#so yes please feel super welcome to send those ideas my way while i work through my own
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Hello! As a long time Trigun fan, I'm so glad that Stampede has brought some talented writers like yourself into the fandom! Have you written any Independent plant/Knives or /Vash fics before? If so, do you have a tag I can search for, if you ever write any? Reader or self inserts that feature the reader as a plant seem to be rare, in my searches. Thanks again for writing and sharing your work!
Thank you so much!! It’s a fandom I had always wanted to explore, as my wife is a longtime fan of the original anime, but it’s pretty difficult for me to get into older stuff since I’m a creator that thrives on being part of an active fan community—though I’m certain I would have gotten into the fandom eventually, Stampede was a really great jumping-off point for me to explore everything else!
As for the question, I haven’t written any Plant!Reader/Vash or /Knives *yet*, but it’s definitely something I want to explore as a concept because that fuckin slaps. I love writing reader characters as unique or powerful in some way (be it literally powerful or through the Power of Friendship and Love) so like… plant!Reader is right up my lane as something to write about in extreme detail 👀
So like, if you or anyone else wants to toss any specific plant!reader ideas my way, my askbox is absolutely open for all of that 👌
(and when I do write it, the posts will be tagged #plant!reader among any other appropriate tags c: )
#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun x reader#notwriting#ask#i love worldbuilding and especially exploring fictional physiology and cultures#and though i’m a sci-fi nut at heart i do love the original angelic version of plants#and i’m like 👌 this close of just going feral and trying to mash the two together and worldbuild my own stuff from there#THERE IS SO LITTLE INFORMATION ABOUT PLANTS though i feel that is because so little is canonically explored which isn’t a BAD thing#just makes my writer brain to BRRRRRRRRRRR#so yes please feel super welcome to send those ideas my way while i work through my own
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Have An Evil Day
No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’
Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.
But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.
I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.
I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.
I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.
We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.
I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.
And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.
“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”
He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.
“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”
He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”
“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”
“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”
He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”
“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”
He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.
About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”
Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”
“Biohazard.”
“Oh. Class three?”
“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”
He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”
“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”
He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”
I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.
We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.
I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)
By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.
“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”
“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”
“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”
“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.
“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”
“Sir, I know you’re not – “
“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”
I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”
Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”
Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”
I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”
“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”
I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”
“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”
“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.
“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”
Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”
“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”
I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.
It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.
“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”
Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”
Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”
“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”
“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”
Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”
“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”
He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”
“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”
He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”
“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.
I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”
“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”
Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”
Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.
She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”
Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”
“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”
He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”
“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”
Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”
“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”
“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.
“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”
He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”
“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”
He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”
“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”
Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”
“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”
Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”
“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”
He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”
We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”
He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”
“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”
“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”
“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”
“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”
“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”
“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”
His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”
There was a long pause.
“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.
“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”
We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”
“You want me to join the bad guys?”
“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”
“That’s a regular concern?”
“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”
“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”
“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “
Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”
“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.
“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”
Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.
Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.
But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.
Have an evil day!
#welcome to Evil Mart#good is not just good#evil is not just evil#people are complicated#and so is retail#tw graphic#tw gore#tw violence#tw murder#it's a supervillain story#supervillain shit happens#you are now warned
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hello! i am here to request a tommyinnit x reader! where the reader is a smaller streamer who accidentally befriends tommy while having no idea who he is??? they only find out when they see him streaming one day and lose their fucking marbles over how many people are watching him, and proceed to blow up his phone like??? hello what the fuck???? also, they/them pronouns please!
I love this request, mainly because I can totally see Tommy doing this to someone. Befriending them and just accidentally forgetting about his online popularity just to laugh as they freak out over it. I’ve used they/them pronouns as per requested as well, hope you enjoy! :D
Hidden In Plain Sight
You were worried you weren’t going to actually make any friends in your new classes, moving to a whole new school partway through the year wasn’t exactly common practice. So, you had braced yourself for the worst, mentally prepared to eat your lunch alone in the bathrooms even if it was gross, it was better than being eyeballed by your new peers. Approaching the common area with your food now in hand, you felt your stomach start to sink deeper and deeper, yet you kept up your pace determined to not look as downtrodden as you felt.
“Hey, new girl!” You turned quickly, giving yourself a bad case of whiplash that the boy who had called your name definitely noticed. “Uh, yeah?” You raised a singular eyebrow at him, the empty seats around him beckoning you closer. “Nice twitch patch. You stream?” He asked, gesturing to the small purple and white patch you had badly sewn onto your backpack.
You stood dumbly ahead of him, your food held tightly in your hands. “Uh, yeah. I do, I only started a few months ago though.” You grow sheepish wondering if admitting to that could just lead to you getting bullied quicker. The boy’s face suddenly lights up, “Me too! I’ve been streaming for a few years now though.” He boasts a little, obviously taking pride in his hobby. You nod along, “Cool.” A few moments of silence pass, “Are you gonna sit or what?”
The smile that graces your face leaves Tommy a little stunned, “Oh! Thanks.” You quickly sit, shoulders relaxing almost instantly. “I-It’s nothing, I’m Tommy by the way.” He holds out his hand, you warmly shake it giving him your own name with a soft blush. Partly from the embarrassment of your pointlessly spiralling thoughts and partly from how cute this boy next to you is. Tommy happily carries the conversation, cheeks a soft pink as you watch him with intrigue and interest drinking in his words with an attentiveness he wasn’t used to. Tommy listens eagerly when he asks you about your twitch channel, you shyly tell him a little about it.
You give him your channel name and he follows you, you follow back instantly Tommy speaking through the exchange partly to distract you from his profile. It works and you close the app without a second glance, happily listening to the rest of Tommy’s story without a care in the world. Tommy feels relief rush through him, he didn’t want to overwhelm you and he knew that his popularity was likely to have an impact on your friendship. He didn’t want that. He wanted someone to want to get to know him because they found him interesting not because of his following and the ‘clout’ they may receive from being his friend. You didn’t seem like the type to do that but he knew better than to assume, he’d learnt that lesson a few too many times before.
“You normally sit alone?” You breach the subject with little tact, knowing that surely, he’s a popular guy. He’s loud, extroverted and funny, there’s no way he was as much of a social outcast to be forced to sit alone. He sighs loudly, huffing air through his nose. “No! But my lame-o friends decided to join clubs this year and they meet during lunch for extra club time.” He grumbles, arms now gesturing widely around him as he articulates exaggeratedly. “But I know that they’re really just trying to suck up to the girls in the drama club.” He makes a loud gagging noise.
“So, I stay out here and study, that way I have more time to stream when I get home,” Tommy explains with a soft shrug, motioning to his binder nearby, notes scribbled in an illegible chicken scratch. “I might have to start doing that, the workload here is so much more than at my old school.” You groan, gesturing to your own binder chock-a-block with notes, textbooks and spiralled notebooks.
That’s when the two of you hear a distant ringing of bells, “Where’re you headed? I can lead you there, this place is a maze sometimes.” Tommy offers the smile soft on his face. You pull at your folder and point to your next class, “Uh, it’s-“ You begin, only for Tommy to exclaim. “We have the same class! C’mon, Miss will beat our asses if we’re late!” “Miss who!?” You look at him quizzically as Tommy quickly stands grabbing his things and motioning for you to follow. When you stand slowly and grab your things Tommy grabs your wrist, “She might excuse you for being late, but I’ve been late one too many times dude, you don’t even know.” His pace is faster than yours but his hold on your wrist is firm, forcing you to keep up with him.
Days of chatting and befriending Tommy turns to weeks and soon it’s been a few months. You had been happily keeping to yourself mid-stream, your regular viewers making light conversation with you through chat. “Oh woah, we got a raid!” You cry watching your chat, “Aw it’s from Tommy! Hey big man, thanks for the raid of- HOLY SHIT! 300,000!?” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers as you reread the notification several times before finally looking into your webcam looking like a deer in headlights. “U-Uh welcome guys! If you’re planning on sticking around please be polite in chat!” You try your best to gain control over your racing mind, heart beating rapidly against your chest.
A large number of Tommy’s viewers leave, but you try your best to entertain those that stay for another hour or so before you end stream with a significantly larger number of subs than what you started with. Your speed dialling Tommy’s number is unrivalled as you lay back in your chair, eyeing your stream set up across from you. He picks up, “Hey-“ You cut him off immediately.
“Um, so when were you going to tell me you’re some big twitch hot shot!? Or was I just supposed to find that one out for myself champ?” You hold back the urge to screech down the phone line as he laughs at you. “Hey! It just slipped my mind, okay!? A big man’s gotta lotta big things on his mind at the one time!” He cries out in futile defence, knowing you had every right to be at least a little bit furious at him for keeping this a secret.
“Wasn’t the raid fun though!?” He squawks after a couple of moments of silence, “It was… fun, but it was also the most stressed I think I’ve ever been Tommy. That’s a lot of people to just throw at someone.” You huff a little, “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t really think before doing it. I was just super excited to send them over to you, I just knew they would love you as much as I do.” He mumbles the last part of his sentence, but you hear it just fine. “Aw, I love you too Tommy.” A smile finds it’s way onto your face, “I can’t believe I’m actually considering forgiving you.” You throw a hand over your eyes, groaning. “Would a midnight trip to get some fast food accelerate the forgiveness process?”
You hum for a few moments, “Are you trying to bribe me, Tommy?” The blond stammers adorably before huffing, “Uhhh, no?” He offers, “Oh well if that’s the case, then yes.” You grin as his screeches of laughter reach your ears, your own laughter joining his within moments. “Talk later big man, got a midnight meal to plan for.” Tommy groans, “Oh no! You’re gonna spend all my money!” You scoff, “I’m sorry mister millionaire! You’re my walking talking money bags now, get used to it!” You giggle along with Tommy’s chuckles, his voice relaxed. Tommy knew his assumption was right, even on the first day he met you. He knew you were a good person, a good person for him. There’s no one he would rather spend his time and money on.
~Requests are currently open!~
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Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?
Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍
Just say yes
A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!
Not my gif! Credits to the owner.
Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.
Word count: 1500ish
Requests & Challenges
Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee
Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry
Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included in any of these lists ;))
.
As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.
He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home.
Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose.
You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you.
“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”
He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one.
“Oh you look terrible.”
“Thanks I feel terrible.”
Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his.
“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—”
“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went, exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.
“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.”
“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.”
You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry.
“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.
“Yep.”
.
You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead.
.
A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.
“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled.
He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.
Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger.
You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared.
“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date.
“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—”
“Oh that won’t be necessary.”
“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.
“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips.
“So it’s a date Barnes.”
“It’s a date.”
.
Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then.
He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch.
Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven.
Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question.
The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake.
“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off.
“Ah fuck what now.”
Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower.
“Oh God, are you alright?”
“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.
You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you.
A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box.
It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step.
“Bucky…”
“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.
“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.
Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.
“Fucking hell.”
“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously.
“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”
He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.
“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.
“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”
You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways.
“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?”
Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.
“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.
“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations long forgotten.
“Just say yes.”
“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.
“Say it again.”
“Yes!”
.
Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night.
But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader
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Celebrating valentine’s day with the chaotic trio (Itadori, Gojo and Megumi)
Author note : today is very special day. I don’t know if you’re currently dating someone, or if you’re single (welcome please have a sit) I want you to do all the things you love. Don’t be sad because today you’re not dating someone, be proud because you are you, you’re alive and I’m so proud of you. My words won’t probably be enough I’m sending you all the love you might need because you deserve this.
I hope you’ll enjoy this, I realize that in my previous headcanon about JJK I haven’t include any women which is a shame. I’m not confident enough to write about a lot of character : but I’m trying, I’ve started to read the manga in addition with watching the anime. Let me know if you enjoy it.
i promise you I'll write for more characters in JJK
Warning : none it’s short I'm sorry
i do not own those gifs credit to their owner (Itadori’s one come from tenor )
Masterlist
Itadori Yuuji
I love him, I really do he is a sweetheart, an angel whatever but he is a mess.
Seriously it’s canon that he never dates anyone is in his live. How the hell did he manage to have you by side is a mystery.
He is not complete idiot though. He knows what Valentine’s day is, but he never celebrates it, and has never met someone who celebrates it. So he is kinda confused about what he is supposed to do : a date ? Yes but it has to be special right ? Do you expect him to be super creative or just being himself ? Do you expect an expansive gift or something meanful ?
He was confused and let’s be honest he was a bit anxious about it. Cause he loves you and he wants you to feel love and honored.
Let’s be real Sukuna gives him the worst idea (because he just enjoys seeing him struggling what a meanie)
He tried to ask his sensei because Gojo is his sensei so he had to know everything … right ?
He gave up because he was talking about spicy things which makes no sense in his mind
He wanted to talk with Megumi but then he remembers that he is not good with people so he is probably not dating someone
So he went to see Nobura.
Go to see Nobura when you needs idea seriously
She gave him so many idea he had to take notes, she gave him so many advice too like about gift he needs to try something meanful instead of expensive gift. A lovely day would be nice too. As long as he spent the day with you, you’ll be fine
So he planned something simple and yet cute, he finds some cute little restaurant close to a parc where he wanted to walk after that. Then, he took you to his house for some chill time (just an excuse to cuddle because he wanted to hold you so much during your walk together)
Even in his room he thought about everything he even went as far as to buy some fluffy blanket and a lot of chocolates (and borrow some movies to watch thanks Gojo-sensei).
During the whole day until he gave you his gift he couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. And it didn’t help that Sukuna was trying his best to stress him even more. He never had a relationship before and he was started to fall in love with you deeply, he wanted to let you know how much he loves you but he didn’t how to do it the good way.
Of course you’ll notice it, especially because he wasn’t as happy and joyful as usual. So seeing he wouldn’t say anything about it, you decided to confront it about it and he just bluntly explained to you that he was afraid that you might not appreciate his gift.
So he just went for it and gave you his gift.
It was actually a hair grip he saw you were looking after. Seeing him not daring to look at your eyes you decide to just jump into his harm to kiss him.
« Thank you so much Yuji ! I love it so much I love you »
Okay let’s say Sukuna was not only disgust by the whole love love scene in front of him but also disappoint him because he could hear Yuiji being all cocky in front of him
Gojo Satoru
another one that never celebrate Valentine’s Day before
Not because he never dates someone but because his relationship never last enough to celebrate with someone before.
So you were an expection
You might feel lucky but everyone around you would say no (I mean the man is a disaster)
Being in relationship with him would mean to expect surprise every morning because the man can’t stay still even for his own good. Sometimes you woke up with him surrounding by a lot of crisps just because he feels like it.
So you were expecting something like eating a lot with him and probably have some good quality time (hear sex and movie cause he is pretty horny like 90% of the time)
But when you woke up, no one was here even his bed was cold meaning he left a long time ago (or didn’t even come to bed). You just started your day like any usual day checking every second your phone.
You shared some texts with Gojo but nothing that might betray a plan or anything. He even told you that he was pretty busy today and might no be able to go home today.
It made you sad
Not because he wasn’t here today (you understood that he was a busy man) but it’s been a long time since you haven’t seen him and you started to miss him.
You know that Valentine’s Day was commercialized and everything but you couldn’t help but want some quality time with your boyfriend. Honestly just cuddle him while watching a movie would be perfect
But since your boyfriend would be busy today, you decided to spent the whole day going around for some shopping.
During the afternoon after buying way too many clothes, you felt your phone moving in your pocket someone was calling you.
It was Gojo wondering why you weren’t at home ? You didn’t answer at first like How could he possibly know that ?
Feeling that you might be surprised by his comment he just told you that he went home early to spend the afternoon with you.
You didn’t even bother to answer you just run like your life depend on it. He was here he wanted to surprise you.
When you finally managed to be in your house you left everything and just go for a hug.
« Hehe look at you all pouty for me did you miss me that much ? »
« You have no idea how much I missed you »
« Guess I’m just so incredible you couldn’t get enough of me »
« I guess so »
He teases you during 10 whole minutes until someone knocked at your door.
During your run, Gojo called a caterer and a florist to apologize for not being here lately and also because he wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day with you (he won’t tel you that he show off during his whole day at work)
He wanted to take you at a restaurant to enjoy some good quality foods but he discovered from Nanami that you seemed a bit off lately, it didn’t take him a long time before realizing that you were missing him.
So he planned to spend the whole night love you and remind you how much he was into you.
You shared good food together, watched some movies. You were actually very into one action movie until you felt some lips on your neck.
Not need to say you never saw the end of the movies but that’s okay since you were busy being taken care of by your lovely boyfriends
When it came to your gift, he bought you a gorgeous ring. He joked about being a test for when he would finally ask you the very specific question.
This day you never managed to know if he was joking or not
Megumi fushiguro
he is also a disaster but not because he doesn’t know what to do (he has some ideas thanks to social media) but because he doesn’t know how to behave with people I mean he can talk to them. But 99% of the time you’re starting a conversation and he follows
But today is a special day it’s Valentine’s Day and for once he wants to be in charge about your date (even tough sometimes he suggest some place to go you’re just too excited he can’t stop you he doesn’t want to it).
Like Itadori he started to ask Gojo-sensei (since he seemed very comfortable with those kind of things) but didn’t find anything interesting so he just left without letting his sensei showing off about how many people he seduced blabla
So he went directly into Maki which wasn’t a good idea. Not that she didn’t have any idea but she was like « why would you celebrate Valentine’s Day ? Aren’t you supposed to cherish Y/N on every single day ? » which wasn’t true anyway
So he left without any idea and couldn’t manage to ask kugisaki about it he knows he wouldn’t stop hearing about it. So he just looked through social media, Pinterest anything that might interest both of you
He choosed to take you in some place where you can both relax and have some sweets. It was a very romantic place full of books with couch everywhere it was very comfy. He loves it especially because he could enjoy some quality time without being surrounding by people.
Then you insisted on going into your place so you could cuddle since he is not comfortable with PDA in public other than holding hand.
When you were home, you guys just cuddle in his bed enjoying some music together. No words needed to be said, just feeling his hand stroking your hair was enough for you and when it came to him, having you by his side was enough to melt his heart.
As a gift he decided to buy you a book where all of his pages where white. He wanted you to decorate it as you wanted, and you decided to put all of your pictures you take with him like your own made album.
He never told you that actually in the end of the books he writes something for you. It was actually pretty simple but it means everything for you.
« Hi Y/N i just wanted to tell you that I love you so much. I know I should say it out loud more often but you know I’m not comfortable with this kind of things. Thank you for being with me, i cannot wait to see how this book would look once it’s full - Megumi »
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#itadori yuuji#itadori yuuji x reader#gojo satoru#Gojo satoru x reader#fushiguro megumi#Megumi Fushiguro x reader#Megumi x reader#itadori x reader#Gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fushiguro#jjk itadori#jjk gojo#fushiguro Megumi x reader
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MLB x DC Universe Headcannons
I just love the idea of MLB and DC (expecially Batfam cuz Mari is such a Wayne) being in the same universe and crossing over. So one night, I just had an idea overload of different ways the Marinette would know the batfam/be a part of the DC universe. And if any of my shitty ideas somehow inspire or prompt you, then please be my guest. 😊
_
1) “Ladybugs of Past and Present”
Hippolyta, Wonder Woman’s mother, was once a previous holder of the ladybug miraculous. When Fu activated the miraculous and put them in circulation, Hippolyta could feel its magic waking back up. Knowing there must a reason for it to be out, she sent a message to her daughter. Diana searched, finding Marinette and Adrien as the present holders of the ladybug and cat miraculous. She vouched and brought them into the Young Justice program while they also made their own team, Project: Zodiac (or something like that).
[Sometime when Diana takes Marinette to meet Hippolyta]
“Great Hera, Tikki, you have not aged a day” -Hippolyta, cause she does know how to make joke.
“And I would say the same to you” -Tikki
“Mother, you can make a laugh?” -Wonder Woman, honestly a bit confused cause her mom have never not been serious before.
And Marinette is just speechless cause she’s starstruck meeting Wonder Woman’s mom AND a previous Ladybug holder.
_
2) “Rockstar Niece”
Jagged Stone is Marinette’s Sweet Uncle J. During the summers, Jagged Stone would take Mari with him on tour. HIs summer tours are throughout America, so Mari gets to sightsee the country. Jagged’s first tour that he gets to take Mari on (5-ish), he’s also booked for the annual (for whatever reason) Wayne Summer Gala. When Marinette meets the Waynes, they are so enamoured (Dick and Tim couldn’t help it) that they tell Jagged he’s always invited as a guest, Mari of course being added to the permanent guest list too. About 6 years later, Mari is practically adopted, spending the first half of her summers with Jagged, going to the Wayne Gala, then spending the rest of her summer with the Waynes. Overtime, she figured out the secrets of the family and was there to welcome Jason back from the dead (when that happens). Anyways, now 11(-ish?) Mari meets Damian and the two become good friends… after an… impressionable first meeting.
“Tch, let me guess, you’re another one of father’s adopted strays” -Dami
“YOU MUST BE DAMIAN!!! DICK TOLD ME ABOUT YOU!!” -Marinette, who just ignores what he said for a hug.
“hiiiiiiiiissssssss” -Dami, touchy with touch
“...” sprays water in his face since he decided to act like a cat.
“I say, Master Bruce, the children are getting along quite well” -Alfred
_
3) “Pen Pals”
Jon Kent and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are part of an international pen-pal program, starting when they were very young (maybe like 4 or 5-ish, super super young) where they told each other everything (Jon can’t just say that his older bro is a clone made from Superman and Lex Luthor’s DNA, or that his dad is Superman, or that his best friend is Robin, but yea. Lois and Clark probably proofread his stuff until he’s like 9) with pictures and everything. When they’re old enough to get phones & stuff, they call, text and vid-chat along with their letters (love without blood). When Mari is maybe 9-11 (somewhere around there) she starts flying over during the summers to hangout with Jon (and his friends and big brother). While there, she meets Kon, Bat fam, and Clark (some who she already knew, some who she didn’t) & lightly hints that she knows who all they are once she figures it out (it didn’t take her long to do so).
Now whenever she visits and is at Wayne Manor (Jon likes to have sleepovers practically every weekend) while they’re on patrol, Mari subtly messes with their minds (super subtle, they’re the world’s best detectives after all) until they finally look through the cams and see Mari giving them one of those smiles (those shit-grinning cause it’s just so hilarious how it’s gone on for so long) & and a playful wink.
[5 seconds later]
“Mari!” “Pixie-pop!” “Angel!” “Teacup!”
“Seriously, am I the only one with a normal nickname for her?” -Tim
“Ms. Marinette would like to inform you that ‘it took you long enough’” -Alfred (who so knows that the girl has been playing them since the third night she stayed at the Wayne’s)
“Where are my adoption papers?” -Bruce (who is seriously adopting any talented black-haired child)
_
4) “Mari and Mar’i”
When Mar’i is young, Dick and Kori take her with them to see Paris (btw, this would be during the winter). They’re strolling along through a park and lose track of Mar’i who finds Marinette (9-10 ish). Marinette comforts and distracts Mar’i while noticing the young(er) girl is Tameranian (her hair is very warm and she’s wearing significantly less layers than should be worn for a human of that age during the winter, plus that sun-kissed skin tone. She’s seen Kori in her fashion magazines (and, from time to time, on the news as an ambassador) so she easily make the connections). Dick and Kori finally spot Mar’i with Mari who introduces herself to them. Mar’i asks if she can see her “Auntinette” again and Marinette just goes “if your parents are okay with it.” Dick and Kori are totally cool with it (not many are willing to watch her and have the time to do it) so they ask Marinette if she can babysit Mar’i whenever (with good pay of course) if she’s up to it (cause she’s still pretty young). Marinette can’t say no to Mar’i’s babydoll eyes (and she’s so much easier compared to Manon, who’s only 2 rn), so of course, she says yes.
Now Marinette is Mar’is official babysitter and sees Mar’i often whenever her parents drop her off (using zeta tubes to quickly get to Paris and back). Marinette gets treated like an honorary Wayne (cause she’s the most responsible) and gets invited to their family stuff (w/ travel pay taken care of, of course). It doesn’t take her long to realize the fact that she babysits Bruce Wayne’s & BATMAN’S granddaughter, but of course, being the responsible one she is, keeps the secret… while also playing with them via Mar’i.
[One Day]
After Marinette leaves for her plane…
“Uncle Dami!”
“Yes, Spawn?”
“Auntinette said to tell you after she left that Robin’s sut needs a major upgrade & that you look like a traffic light… whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
[Another Day]
“Uncle Jay!”
“What’s up kid?’
“Auntinette said that to let you know that Red Hood doesn’t make any sense ‘cause Red Hood wears a helmet. Not a hood.”
[The next time]
“Uncle Tim!”
Yawn. “yea?”
“Auntie told me to give you this” (pulls out super caffeinated coffee) “and that Red Robin’s cowl is a menace to all things fashion”
[Again…]
“Daddy!”
“Yes, Starshine?”
“Auntienette said she’s proud of Nightwing’s costume ‘cause it’s one of the only in the batfam that isn’t an astro-city to the fashion society.”
_
5) “Marinette, the one who’s always getting chosen”
Before Mari became (becomes(?)) LB, she comes across a different powerful piece of jewelry, from a different order of guardians where her will of mind is not only her shield from being akumatized, but it is also what drives her powers. That’s right, Mari walks past a flea market and activates a GL ring. The guardians pick up on this activity and send Hal (it is his sector) to check it out. Hal finds the ring with Mari but it still needs the light of a GL to charge and fully work.
[During the explanation]
“Look, kid-”
“Marinette.”
“Look, kid, I just need to know why you have that ring.”
“You think I know? I was just walking through the market and all of a sudden, this possessed ring, if that’s even what this is, started following me, then zipped in front of my face til i held my hand up so it can put itself on my finger.”
“Kid-”
“It’s MARINETTE. Get it wrong one more time and you’ll see why I don’t need a possessed piece of alien jewelry.” -Marinette, making sure you get her name right. “Besides, if I stole it, I would remember. I’m a klepto” -Marinette, probably holding his ring too at this point.
Hal obviously doesn’t want the wrath of the Dupain-Chengs (just the kid Marinette scares him enough), so he tells the guardians that JL will take care of most of Mari’s training (once they get her a lamp for her ring, of course) & has her take part in training at Mt. Justice with the Young Justice team and special training with the Bats. Mari does all this under the guise of an international student exchange program for Mari to stay with the Waynes (not yet knowing that it’s the bat fam) and attends G.A. Mari doesn’t do much, but it takes her 24-36 hours to know who EVERYONE is.
[the next week after settling in]
“Hey, Mars,” -Dick, in his Nightwing gear
“Hey, Di-is the GREATEST SHOW!” -Mari, changing the subject(… not really)
“How long did it take you?”
“Not as long as the Kryptonians…” -Mari, going off into a tangent (still trying to change the subject”
[When Marinette meets Tikki]
Back in Paris:
“Sooo… I’m getting powerful jewelry that gives me powers and a suit, needs to be recharged, and comes from some Order of the Guardians? What’s the difference between you and my ring?” -Marinette, who at this point is very confused as to why she keeps getting picked on for this kind of stuff.
“One’s alien, one’s magic” -Tikki, hoping Mari will end it there & lowkey hates that the GL Corp. got to her first.
“They’re both non-human made energy sources” -Mari, cause once you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it all before.
“You can’t heal the Akuma without the miraculous, and there are more than just rings. Yours are earrings, there are hair clips, bracelets, necklaces and more” -Tikki, after having a minute to think
“Fine, only because you said they’re the only way to heal the, what was it again, akuma?”
_
6) “Their Unofficial Official Barista”
Part of Tim’s job as Co-CEO, is to make sure all the branches are running smoothly, sometimes that means he has to fly abroad to manually check in. Tim goes to Paris to check on the W.E. Paris branch. He goes to a nearby Patisserie (Tom and Sabine’s) to see a young Marinette (somewhere from 8-11) drawing in her sketchbook at the counter. She explains that her parents are at a catering event, but she’s there to man the little bakery. Tim asks for a super caffeinated coffee and Marinette makes it with ease, claiming it was on the house with how bad he looks (and how much sleep the man clearly needs). Tim begs for her knowledge and asks if she can teach his butler. Mari’s willing to show him the next time he comes, so he gets the whole fam to go (viz tubes so they don’t waste time) maybe a week later. Everyone gets their own drink (plus a free pastries) and Marinette teaches Alfred her coffee, but it’s just not the same so Tim, using the tubes, goes to get coffee from the girl whenever he can.
Mari is horrible at getting up on time (the life of an insomniac, never getting to sleep even if you want and then barely waking up on time) that she is up super early, makes Tim his coffee (plus a croissant) and tries to go back to sleep (making her inevitably late). Tim would walk up to the pick-up counter where his cup and to-go bag is while Marinette runs out of the house to get to school. Eventually, the rest of the Batfam (as well as the Laegue, TT, and YJ) frequent the place, slowly becoming (Dami too) Mari hides it, but she knew all the batfam the first day they came and she showed Alfred how to make the coffee. When the others start making more regular appearances, she learns the identities of YJ team, WW, GLs, and others. Obviously when LB and CN appear as heroes with HM as their villain, they immediately reach out to help. Because 1. Batfam clearly notices that it’s Mari and they sure as heck won’t let her deal with that by herself, and 2. The JL is worrying too much about their favorite barista (even though she’s not really one), especially with the Gigantitan scare. So, of course LB & CN (can’t make him bad everytime) get inducted into YJ.
[After Ladybug finishes defeating Gigantitan and detransforms]
“Bean! Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” -Tim, being an even more protective older brother than Dick, which shouldn’t be possible
“Yes, I promise. I’m fine” -Marinette, who just accepts the fact that she’s adopted an older brother (and his famliy)
“Tube over, we’ll have Alfred make sure” -Dick, already pulling out the medical supplies for Alfred.
“I-”
“You shouldn’t worry your brothers like that, Marinette. Now come over so Alfred can clear you,” -Bruce, who just happens to overhear the conversation
“I’m sorry, Miss Marinette, they are very adamant that you’re in pitch perfect health before going out again,” -Alfred, who’s not actually sorry
“Fine” -Marinette, accepting her fate of her adopted, protective family.
_
7) “Thicker Than the Blood We’ve Shed”
Why is Marinette so freakishly strong? Because she was trained to be. Before she could even talk, Mari was taught to be an assassin. She and Damian were frenemies, both competing for top spot as best in the League (of Assassins). They often spared together and became rivals who pushed each other (which sounds great in that context if you forget about the fact that they’re killing people and turning it into a competition). When Damian’s care is turned over to Batsy, Mari also comes along for the ride. She implements herself into Dami’s classes at G.A. & watches him from afar. (Damian, not being an idiot, of course knows all this and knows that it’s probably for Mari to give a report to Talia.) When he becomes Robin, Mari obviously knows, but waits to see if anything drastic would happen (his care was given to the Batfam, they had already expected this to happen.) She then heard word of the bounty Talia put on Damian’s head. Marinette knew there wouldn’t be much she could do to help, but she ave Dami a warning about the upcoming situation before fleeing the country.
From there she got to France, changed her name (it wasn’t originally Marinette, it was Shénqí, chinese for miraculous/magical (or something else if you want)), was adopted by Tom & Sabine, and left her time in the League in the past. When she received Tikki, she didn’t want to be a hero because she didn’t think she deserved it after her up-bringing. Eventually, she did become LB (being a trained assassin does help with lucky charms, considering she was taught how to kill with basically every and anything), and life was good for her. Then Rossi came.
[Gotham field trip]
While at Wayne Tower…
“How idiotic are they?” -Damian, who after reuniting with his long-lost sister-from-a-different-mister (yes, Marinette was able to convince him to say it once), can’t understand the stupidity she has to deal with.
“Are you Robin?” -Mari, who is too tired, so just goes straight into the analogy
“Yes.” -Obvious and simply is.
“Exactly” -Mari, who can’t even put a limit to the amount of thought the one brain cell the class shares doesn’t use. I mean please, the so-called “reporter” believed that the first cosplayer she saw was the actual LB when they don’t even have the same hair! And let’s not forget the origins arc, where LB’s first citizen save was Chloe.
#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#miraculous ladybug#no ships stated#but add them if you want#headcannons#maribat#marinette dupain-cheng#marinette x dc#marinette x batfam#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#bruce wayne#hal jordan#nightwing#batman#red robin#robin#green lantern#diana prince#wonder woman#just a bit of salt#jason todd#red hood#koriand'r#starfire#mar'i grayson#nightstar#writing#klepto mari
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Hello! Can i request part 2 for "just a thought"? Where kuroo's s/o finally pregnant and their pregnancy journey until she give birth and gushing over their newborn 😔❤ thank you
JOURNEY • KUROO T.
requests: CLOSED
warnings: none!
word count: 2k
a/n: heyo!! this request is months old but here you are! the baby isn’t born in this but a part three is in the works! enjoy! 🥰
part one
Who knew trying for a baby would be so hard?
Both you and Kuroo sat on the couch, staring at yet another negative pregnancy test, that seemed to mock you from its place on the end table. You turned your attention to your boyfriend who was groaning in frustration. It’s been about three months since you and Tetsuro have actively started trying for a baby. Luck was not on your side. Rubbing his arm gently, you offered Kuroo a small smile. “It’s okay babe. This stuff takes time, no one said it'll be easy” You explained, getting up from your spot on the couch to throw away the test.
“The Sims did! All they have to do is click try for a baby and bam! Eating for two” Kuroo huffed. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit. You weren’t sure if he was joking or if he thought getting pregnant would be that easy. After throwing the test away and washing your hands, you crawled back to your previous spot on the couch. You watched as your boyfriend scrolled through the endless pictures of Koutarou and Keiji’s newborn. “How many pictures did Bokuto send you?” You giggled, placing your head on his shoulder. Kuroo groaned again, “Too many.. but she’s adorable” He sighed. You nodded in agreement and snuggled closer to your boyfriend. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Tetsuro spoke up. “How come Kou and Keiji can have a baby but we can’t? This is bogus” He pouted, shutting off his phone and tossing it to the other side of the couch.
“Well, they used a surrogate but that’s not always guaranteed to work. It’s all about luck baby” You explained, running your fingers through his unruly hair. Kuroo grumbled something that sounded like a “You’re right” before laying on your chest. Suddenly he tilted his head to look up at you, “Wanna try again?” He inquired. Your eyes widened a bit, “Right now?” You asked. He nodded fervently. You winced a bit at the soreness between your legs that decided to make itself known. “Uh, m-maybe later,” You said, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. At that, Kuroo deflated, laying his head on your chest once again.
You knew your boyfriend desperately wanted a baby but the ‘hit it until it breaks’ method doesn’t exactly work in this case. Of course, you knew it wouldn’t happen the first couple of times but you didn’t think it would take this long either. Maybe it was time to come up with a game plan.
Kuroo walked through the door, tired from another day at work. As he placed down his bag and chucked off his shoes, he noticed that you didn’t come to greet him like you normally did. “Y/n?” He called out, putting his jacket on the coat rack. “I’m in the dining room!” You replied. Tetsuro made his way to the dining room, wondering if he should ask you to try again tonight. As much as he wanted a baby, he didn’t want to wear you out, you come first. All those thoughts vanished as he looked at the scene laid out in front of him.
There was a huge calendar sprawled out across the table, with huge red circles drawn over certain dates. On top of that was your laptop, which was opened up to some article he couldn’t see the name of. And not too far from your laptop was a book.. was that a book of sex positions? Kuroo gave you a confused look as you gave him a warm smile. “Welcome home baby” You greeted, going up to him and giving him a quick peck on the lips before going back to… whatever you were doing. “What’s.. all this?” He asked, gesturing to the dining table, still confused about what the hell was going on.
Your face lit up at his question and he couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you asked! Okay so, I was looking at my period tracker, and did you know that it gives you the days you’re most fertile? So I took it upon myself to circle those dates, as you could see here,” You explained, pointing to the calendar. “Uh-huh,” Kuroo responded, starting to understand what you were doing. “Right, so those days are when we’ll try, instead of blindly picking days. And we’ll use the most penetrative positions, which I learned from this book” You said, raising the book. Your boyfriend took the book from your hands and flipped through it, “Oh wow” He breathed, looking at rather.. confusing position that you circled. “Also I was reading this article that said pregnancy tests aren’t always right so we should probably go to the doctor next time” You stated, pulling your boyfriend’s attention from the sex book.
“Babe, this is so extra. I love it” He chirped, hugging you from behind and pressing kisses to your temple. You giggled slightly, “I’m glad you like it, I know how badly you want a baby” You hummed, turning around to face him. “I mean yeah, but you didn’t have to do-“He started. You quickly placed a finger on his lips, “I wanted to okay? I want this baby as much as you do, if not more. So let me help us get to that end goal” You said, holding his cheeks in your hands. Kuroo smiled and sighed dramatically, “Ugh! How did I get such a perfect partner?” He asked rhetorically, kissing your forehead.
“So when are most fertile this month?”
“Today”
You have never seen Tetsuro move so quickly. He hoisted you up by the thighs and carried you to the bedroom, with you giggling into his neck the whole way there.
Today you felt like absolute shit.
It all started this morning when you felt too nauseous to get out of bed. It was so bad that Kuroo had to call your job and tell them you were taking a sick day. Your boyfriend proposed the idea that maybe you were finally pregnant. You dismissed that idea quickly, saying that it only been a week since you guys last tried and that there was no way you would be showing symptoms that fast. Plus, although you felt nauseous, you didn’t throw up. Even though you wanted to, just to get this wave of nausea to go away. So Tetsuro reluctantly went to work (he wanted to stay home with you) and you were laying in bed feeling miserable. Kuroo put a bucket next to your side of the bed just in case you eventually threw up and couldn’t make it to the bathroom. He loved you but he would rather not have to clean up vomit. Around noon, you decided to FaceTime Kiyoko and chat with her a bit.
“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”
She questioned, giving you an incredulous look. You let out an exasperated sigh, “Yes, I’m sure. Tetsu and I just tried last week. People don’t start getting symptoms until two or three weeks afterward” You explained. Shimizu nodded slightly before perking up a bit, “Wait. Didn’t you guys try last month? I remember you complaining about how rough Kuroo was” She recalled, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You blushed slightly, looking at your blanket that was suddenly super interesting. “Well yeah but that was a whole month ago. If I was pregnant from that time, I wouldn’t be showing symptoms this late” You clarified.
“Well better late than never right? Maybe take a test, if not that then go to the doctor” She suggested. You hummed in agreement, looking at your dresser, that had an almost empty pack of pregnancy tests resting on top of it. Slowly getting up you grabbed your phone and one of the tests. “Stay on the phone with me?” You asked, showing Kiyoko the test. She nodded, “Of course hun”.
Now you were sitting on the rim of the bathtub, waiting for the result of the test. You and Kuroo have done this several times before, the result always comes back negative, so why did you feel anxious? Why did this time feel different? Was it because your boyfriend wasn’t with you?
“Y/n relax, worst case scenario it’s negative and you guys will try again” Shimizu reassured, watching you spiral in your thoughts. You took a deep breath and nodded, “You’re right, I’m just super nervous” You stated. “That’s understandable, the test should be ready now,” Kiyoko said. Taking yet another deep breath, you took the test off the sink and flipped it over to see the result.
Dropping both your phone and the test, you lunged for the toilet and finally threw up for the first time that day. “Y/n?! Are you all alright? What happened?” Shimizu’s panicked voice called out from your phone. “I-I’m fine, just felt sick all of a sudden” You explained, hovering over the toilet. “Are you sure? I can come over” She fretted. You shook your head before realizing she couldn’t see you.
“No no, I’m good. Look, I’ll call you back later, okay?”
You couldn’t stop pacing the living room, waiting for Kuroo to come home. This was it, you were pregnant, you and Tetsuro were finally having the baby you both longed for. You couldn’t help but let a few happy tears roll down your cheeks, this was surreal. After months of trying and failing, you were finally pregnant. Holy shit, you were pregnant. The jiggling of keys snapped you out of your thoughts. You clutched the test in your hands and put it behind your back.
“Hey babe, you feeling better?” Kuroo asked, taking off his shoes. You nodded slightly while making your way closer to him, the test still hidden from his view. He bent down and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, “You want me to make dinner tonight? Or we can order takeout if you’re feeling up to it” He suggested, noting how your hands were behind your back. “Takeout is fine but... I do have something to tell you” You stated, guiding him to the couch. “O…kay? Should I be worried?” He asked. You shook your head and sat down, “Nope, now sit down and close your eyes” You requested, patting the spot next to you. Kuroo raised an eyebrow at you, suddenly suspicious of your behavior.
“Come on, please?” You pleaded, pouting a bit. “Alright alright,” He gave in, sitting down and closing his eyes. Putting the test, that you had put in a small ziplock bag, on your lap, you took Kuroo’s big hands into your small ones. “This is something we’ve been wanting for a while, so I hope you’ll be just as excited as I am” You stated, placing the test in his hands. Tetsuro’s face scrunched up in confusion before he opened his eyes. You watched his face intently, trying to take in his reaction. However, that was hard to do since his face was blank and he fell silent.
“Tetsu? Baby?”
Your boyfriend clenched the test in his hands, so much so that you were afraid he would snap it in half. You placed a hand on his shoulder, in an attempt to get him to talk, but you were surprised to feel him trembling. "Babe? I-I know this is a lot to take in, it's.. um, it's fine if you need time to proc–" You started only to jump back as Kuroo pulled you into a tight embrace. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his torso and rubbed his back gently. "I.. I'm so happy right now" He whispered in your ear, his voice wavering. "Aw baby, me too. But you don't need to cry" You laughed slightly, kissing his cheek.
Tetsuro pulled back from the hug and looked at you with hazel eyes, tears just threatening to spill. He chuckled, "Shut up, I'm ecstatic okay? Oh shit! I need to call Kenma!" He exclaimed jumping up from the couch to grab the house phone. You watched in amusement as your boyfriend animatedly told his best friend the good news. You subconsciously placed a hand on your stomach.
This was going to be one hell of a journey.
tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fandom#hq#hq anime#haikyuu anime#haikyuu x reader#hq fandom#haikyuu x bnha#haikyuu smut#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#hq kuroo#hq x reader#hq imagines#hq oneshots#hq fanfic#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu fanfiction#tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsurō#kuroo imagine#kuroo oneshot#haikyuu smau#hq smau#hq smut#kuroo smau#kuroo smut
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Cuffs
Summary: Bucky is guarding / detaining you as a favour to Sharon, unfortunately she gets delayed and the two of you are forced to spend the night together.
Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Fingering, frottage, mentions of light bondage. Spoilers for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier
AN: Set after TFATWS, reader works for Sharon. May be the start of a series. Masterlist
"These cuffs are too tight." You whine loudly as Bucky pushes you into the motel room.
"No they aren't." He grumbles. "In fact you could probably get out of them if you tried hard enough."
You look around the room, to call it shabby would be a compliment.
"Sit down." Bucky says shortly, turning on the TV.
You sigh and perch on one of the beds, wriggling your wrists in the cuffs.
Bucky pulls out his phone and paces between the twin beds as he talks. "It's me. Yeah, I got her. She was being a pain in the ass so I cuffed her. Don't worry, she's fine."
You look up at him. "Let me talk to her." You hiss.
He scowls and shakes his head, the crease between his brows appearing. It's adorable really.
You can hear Sharon ranting on the other end. Oops.
Eventually he sighs and holds his phone out. "She wants to talk to you."
You smile sweetly and take it, holding it awkwardly in your restrained hands.
"Hello?" You ask, apprehensively.
"Tell Barnes to go outside." Sharon snaps.
"Err, can you give us some privacy?" You ask Bucky.
He turns from his position at the window and rolls his eyes. "I'll just be outside."
"We're alone." You tell her, almost dropping the phone.
"I've been calling you." She says, briskly.
"I don't know where my phone is, Barnes kind of abducted me so-"
"You didn't stick to the fucking plan, did you?"
"Technically I didn't, BUT I made it even better."
"You got greedy."
"I did it for us, Sharon. More investment means-"
"Don't drag my name into this. Lucky for you I managed to reason with the people you stole from."
"I didn't steal....the plan was...." You trail off, knowing that it's pointless making excuses.
"The plan was perfect until you went rogue and pissed off all the wrong people!" Sharon yells.
"Sorry." You mutter.
"I'm coming to get you and bring you back to Madripoor, you need to lay low. I promised them you'd disappear for a while."
"Fine." You sigh, grudgingly.
"I can't get a plane until the early hours so just stay put. Barnes will be guarding you."
"GUARDING me?" You splutter.
"Yes, didn't you hear what I said? You pissed off some prominent....personalities."
"Right."
"Just sit tight and try not to annoy Barnes too much."
"Promise." You sigh.
Sharon snorts in response and hangs up.
You tap on the window to indicate that the the call is over, Bucky slips back in and takes his phone.
"Everything ok?" He asks.
"Not really." You mutter, holding up your cuffed hands. "Please can you take these off? I'm obviously not going anywhere."
He eyes you suspiciously before nodding and fishing the key out of his pocket.
As he leans over to unlock you, you discreetly inhale in his scent. You've had a crush on Bucky since the first time you met him, in Madripoor. Then he'd been with Sam and the Baron, you'd only met him briefly but oh, your pulse kicked up a gear whenever he looked your way with those soulful blue eyes. You had crossed paths a couple of times since (he and Sharon seemed to be constantly doing favours for one another) and he always had the same effect on you. Sharon even teased you about it. And it might be (probably was) your imagination but you'd noticed his cheeks turn pinker when he was forced to speak to you, his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren't looking.
"Thanks." You murmur, rubbing your wrists.
He gives you one of his soulful looks and you feel it in the pit of your tummy. "You're welcome." He says, softly.
You had actually been thrilled when he turned up at the bar, and even more thrilled when he said lowly in your ear, "You need to come with me." You had known that Sharon would send someone to get you, but it hadn't occured to you that someone would be Bucky. The struggle was mostly for show, you just enjoyed the feeling of Bucky's big, strong arms restraining you.
"You may as well get comfortable." He says, not looking up from his phone.
"I'm hungry." You say, plaintively.
"In case you haven't noticed, this isn't the kind of place that has room service."
"I saw a vending machine in reception."
Bucky sighs impatiently. "What do you want?"
"Chips and soda? Barbeque and Sprite?" You smile, hopefully.
"Fine. Don't move."
"I've got some change in my pocket." You offer, jutting your hip out at him.
His eyes flicker over you briefly. "I got it." He grumbles.
You need a moment alone to process your conversation with Sharon - you had heard her go off at people plenty of times but her vitriol had never been directed at you. It had been you and her against the world for so long, she felt like your family. She must've gotten a lot of shit from those investment assholes. Like they couldn't afford to lose a few thou, you're surprised that they even noticed.
Bucky returns with your soda and chips, chucking them unceremoniously on the bed, and some salted chips and a Coke for himself. You're fascinated, you've never seen him eat before.
"Thankyou." You say, ripping open the chips. "I'm starving."
He sits on the other bed, his legs stretched out and crossed as he looks impassively at the TV. You can't help stealing glances at him as you eat. He's wearing all black as usual, leather jacket, jeans and boots, his bionic arm concealed. Your cunt aches at the prospect of being alone with him for an entire night, you want to feel his arms around you again, his strong thighs between yours and his mouth, well, everywhere.
"Did Sharon tell you what I did?" You ask.
"I didn't ask for details. I just know that you pissed her off." He says, still looking at the TV.
"She's taking me back to Madripoor." You say quietly.
"I know. Makes sense." He shrugs.
"You and her go way back, right?"
"I've known her for a while."
"How come you and Sam are always doing her favours? You owe her or something? She doesn't like to talk about it." You probe.
"Neither do I." He says, turning his unflinching gaze on you.
You can't help but laugh. "You've got a great poker face, Barnes, I'll have to take you gambling in Madripoor, you'll make us rich."
"I'll pass." He says, crumpling his Coke can in his bionic hand.
You turn your attention to the TV - some garish game show - and feel his eyes still on you. The ache is getting worse, now you're positively throbbing with need. What the hell, you're going to Madripoor in the morning, who knows when you'll see him again? You may as well shoot your shot.
"Sharon thinks there's tension between us." You murmur casually, glancing at him.
"I won't argue with that."
"Sexual tension."
"Oh." He mutters. "You believe everything Sharon tells you?"
"She's mostly right about things."
Not entirely true. Sharon's exact words were, "If you and Barnes don't stop eye fucking each other I'm going to puke." Then she muttered something about 'steering clear of super soldiers'.
"Maybe we should do something about it, get it out of the way." You say, feeling yourself flush and keeping your eyes on the screen.
"That's not a good idea." He replies, but the tone of his voice sounds different, husky almost. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift on the bed.
"I've got a proposition for you." You say, finally, turning to him.
Bucky clears his throat. "If it's an investment opportunity I'm not interested."
"It's not financial, it's physical."
He sighs and looks at you.
"So, what if we kiss." You say, as lightly as you can manage.
"No." He says, flatly.
"Wait, I haven't finished. If we kiss and it's awful, then we forget about it and don't mention it ever again."
"I like the sound of that." He murmurs.
"If it's not awful well, we've got a motel room and a night to figure it out." You say softly, biting your lip.
The pause before he answers is far too long, and you're so embarrased you actually contemplate making a break for it.
"If I say yes will it shut you up?"
You laugh, relieved. "Yes, it will literally shut me up."
Bucky gets up off his bed slowly. "I'm going to regret this, I can tell."
"And I'm going into hiding, for who knows how long. It's the least you can do, Barnes." You say, your heart hammering with anticipation.
Bucky sits next to you, and your mouth starts to water just from his proximity.
"How do-"
You don't let him finish, leaning over and grabbing his jacket, pressing yourself against him and capturing his mouth with yours. It's even better than you imagined; he's slow and gentle but firm, bringing his hand up to grip the nape of your neck, a soft growl escaping from the back of his throat.
You pull away, flustered. Bucky's eyes are wide, staring at you.
You gulp. "Awful, right?"
"Just terrible." He murmurs, his hand tightening on the back of your neck.
"I guess that's it then." You shrug, looking at him through lowered lashes.
"That's it." He kisses you again, and this time it's all consuming. His lips are so soft but insistent and he licks into your mouth, making you groan into his.
You just want to climb onto him, anything to relieve the desperate ache. Bucky pulls you onto his lap with a grunt and you straddle him, your kisses growing deeper. He's so solid underneath you and you rub yourself against him, feeling the bulge grow in his jeans.
"Fuck, you're needy aren't you?" He chuckles lowly, kissing your neck.
You make a noise of agreement, slipping his jacket off his broad shoulders.
Bucky unbuttons your pants, and slides his hand into your panties.
"Is this ok?" He asks softly.
"It's all ok." You tell him and gasp as you feel his fingers opening you up, your hips jerking in response when he finds your clit. He tongues your mouth again as he plays with your pussy, slipping two fingers inside you.
You moan his name as you fuck his hand, rubbing him through his jeans and feeling the flicker of heat blooming at your core. Suddenly Bucky withdraws his hand and you stare at him as he gets up of the bed.
"Get undressed." He swallows, pulling his t-shirt off.
Quickly you strip down to your underwear and sit back on the bed, Bucky stands before you naked, beautiful, his arm gleaming in the lamplight. You can't hide your alarm when you notice he's got the cuffs in his hand again.
"What are those for?" You gulp, eyes wide.
"For when I fuck you." He says thickly. "If it's ok?"
You nod eagerly, pleasantly surprised. It was a first for you but you trusted him and well, now was a good a time as any.
Bucky gets on the bed and reaches for you, pulling you close and kissing you roughly, his hand grabbing a fistful of hair, his dog tags clinking against your chest.
"How come you still wear these?" You ask, running your fingers over the metal.
"Don't worry about it." He murmurs.
Then there was no more talking.
* * * * *
The next morning you wake up, nestled into Bucky's back and feeling sore. Your pussy and your wrists had taken a pummeling the previous night, he had fucked you every way he wanted to and you had lost count of your orgasms. Quite a going away present before you were shipped away to Madripoor. You were contemplating waking Bucky to go another round when his phone vibrates on the bedside cabinet. Already awake, he reaches for it.
"Morning Sharon." He intones. "Yeah, I guessed that. No, she was fine, I made sure that she behaved. Right, ok. See you then."
You groan. "Great."
He turns over. "She just landed."
"But we have time, right?"
Bucky laughs, and gives you a genuine smile. "Time for what?"
Sitting up, you nod towards the bathroom and then touch his bionic arm. "Is this thing waterproof?"
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The Boyz as my University Professors
Disclaimer: Some of my professors are evil bitches; none of the boys are truly evil and I am in no way implying they are or trying to make them look bad! I love the boys and I just thought it would be a fun thing to post :D
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Sangyeon:
the one professor that absolutely loves the topic of his class
super wholesome and smiley throughout the 90 minutes class time
getting super close to the camera (actually to the mic) because he is worried students won’t hear him well enough
always asking questions and encouraging students to interact
not offended when something isn’t clear and therefore students don’t know the answer
reading EVERY. SINGLE. MESSAGE written in the chat (sometimes students have mic problems or don’t wanna speak)
making everyone feel valid and appreciated
being super calm and relaxed
barely doing breakout-rooms cause he knows no one likes them
ending class always a little earlier cause “I know how stressful your life can get.”
just the cutest prof out there
Jacob:
another sweet guy
never holds class at its normal timeframe
just uploads all the files students will need (although attendance is supposed to be mandatory)
“you guys are all grown-ups, I trust you to decide yourself when it is the best time for YOU to study.”
constantly uses smileys and is therefore super popular with students
doesn’t teach many classes, cause which good prof does that? ugh
gets right back at students when they email him their concerns
and no, you don’t get half-assed answers
you get a very detailed answer, which is rare in university life
THANKS STUDENTS FOR SENDING HIM THEIR HOMEWORK!!!!
“Dear [name of stundet], thank you very much! 😊”
offers students to call him by his first name
“I’ll call you by your first name too if that’s okay... creates a more comfortable atmosphere!”
the best <3
Younghoon:
he is a savage professor
his look is hella scary and students fear taking his classes
but he is actually the coolest and most laid back dude ever
the first time class is held, he comes in, stone cold expression and literally throws his bag on the desk - everyone is hella scared
then he says, in the scariest voice ever, “We can have fun here in class, no problem, but i AM YOUR PROFESSOR. NOT YOUR FRIEND. Remember that.”
*everyone scared to death*
“Welcome to class everybody! My name is Mr. Kim and I am very looking forward to teach this class in our summer term! Feel free to ask any question that might come up and don’t hesitate to reach out to me whenever!”
no need to be scared, he is a sweetheart
strict and has high expectations, but won’t overdo it with homework or assignments
constantly jokes around but then switches back to being serious
he creates a nice atmosphere where students want to learn something and do it voluntarily
cares for his students and appreciates their hard work - especially during the pandemic
“I know this is not easy for any of us but I am so amazed by your guys’ work this semester. It was an absolute pleasure teaching you. I hope to see you guys again, but not in this class. Please don’t fail.”
I love him
Hyunjae:
omg, he is an absolute legend
class starts and he is doing his introduction part
the class i about british literature
“Welcome to this literature class, you are in for a long ride!”
so far so good right?
“Let me just say, British Literature is an ABSOLUTE shit show!”
when I tell you, I almost died hearing that (no offense to anyone, pls don’t take my profs words to heart... he lives for british literature 🥺)
he definitely has his students hooked with this one sentence
“the teacher that taught this class before me... what was he even talking about! I mean, british literature is so much more than what he made it out to be!”
basically starts ranting
teaches with so much passion
can’t forget the jokes here and there
also uses smileys which students seriously love (at least I do)
wants students to be informal with him as well
“moving on to this next topic... a little disclaimer before we start: I will go batshit crazy with this topic because I LOVE IT. So please tell me to shut up when I exceed the 10 minutes mark. Thank you!”
A savage legend that everyone loves
sadly only teaches a handful of classes as well
Juyeon:
super laid back and chill
does never check attendance and just trusts his students
usually talks most of the time and doesn’t ask too many questions
is super happy when students contribute though
but he isn’t one to force them
“I know your day has probably been really long, so it’s okay. I’m not taking this personal.”
his class is not based on theory but more on experiences he made
shares funny stories, mistakes he made and what he learnt from them
always gives the smallest and easiest homework ever
“please just share your experiences with these types of situations in our forum”
and he does not want to grade students based on an exam
“I have a better idea. In order to understand a certain topic, I want you to write a portfolio about it. It should be detailed but I won’t give you a number of words. Do what feels right and surprise me! Be creative, nothing will be worth a failing grade as long as you put in some effort.”
does split classrooms
one half is in the main room with him, the others are in breakout rooms, working on a certain topic
super chill and just not as hard as some other classes
but students definitely learn from him!
Kevin:
oh boy, students either gonna hate or love him
he is very kind and nice but he is STRICT
take his class serious and work or you will fail
although he has very high expectations, he will make sure students will be prepared for all the essays, assignments and presentations he throws at at them
no half-assed instructions, you will get the full program (as every student should!)
you have to write an argumentative essay but have no idea how to do that?
Professor Moon (students are allowed to call him Kevin) will explain an argumentativ essay in detail, will show examples and will tell you exactly what to put in it
having trouble finding sources?
Kevin will help you, just let him know!
Also a very empathetic teacher
something happened and you can’t attend class? Absolutely no problem
whenever something serious happens (for us it was a shooting), Kevin will cancel class and spare his students cause their well-being is more important
he doesn’t throw out A’s and B’s easily but when you do get such a grade in one of his classes... dude, you did a really good job
so as I said, he is either your fav or least fav professor... choose your side!
Chanhee:
he is a bitch (not really, but he gives the impression)
at first, he is that nice, bubbly professor
super friendly and kind
and his classes are absolutely okay! no biggie
or so they THOUGHT
his exams and progress tests or whatever ARE HELL
he makes it seem as everything is so easy and not overwhelming at all
BUT nothing is easy and everything is overwhelming
50 pages for a damn progress test two weeks into the semester!
the grading is so strict, you need at least 65% to pass! (maybe I am a baby but 65% is a lot for a passing grade hahaha)
but he confuses students
he is so kind and soft spoken
constantly smiling and in a good mood
but the exams????
are you sure you were the one creating them Mr Choi?
and yes, he is one of those professors that wants to be addressed by his last name (nothing wrong with that)
as I said, he confuses students
they don’t know what to think of him
at the end of the day he isn’t a bad guy
just not the type of professor the students would want in every single class for the rest of their lives
Changmin:
changmin is not your ordinary professor
because he is a big fan of team-teaching
so all his classes are taught by him and his dear colleague Haknyeon!
YAAAAY
I love this duo already
he is the part of the duo that is EXTREMELY motivated
he is is so hyper and so ready for teaching
his classes are always fun but also slightly overwhelming?
juts imagine having too much caffeine in your body
that is changmin being able to teach something he loves
that’s just the passion jumping out of him
he is constantly talking and laughing and throwing jokes left and right
he is having a good time!
super understanding and empathetic
and although everything seems fun and games
you will definitely learn from him!
he has this natural and authentic way of teaching in his body
it comes... naturally and it all makes sense somehow
although the class is packed with inside jokes and changmin teasing haknyeon
haknyeon doesn’t even have time nor the chance to speak
this is changmin’s time to shine!
they love and hate each other
but the students definitely love this iconic duo
Haknyeon:
as I mentioned; haknyeon and changmin are a team
it wasn’t really something haknyeon wanted but... how could you possibly say no to baby changmin? 🥺
so yes, changmin’s cute face got him into this situation
he doesn’t even have to prepare anything for class - his lovely colleague does the talking anyways
he usually lays back and relax
he frowns into the cam cause he tries to intimidate students
but they know he is a soft guy anyways
while changmin is talking, he is chatting to students in the chat
as I mentioned earlier, not everyone wants to unmute themselves and therefore posts in the chat
so he is having chats with students, often not even related to the topic
“Please excuse me, I will be absent for a few minutes - mommy duties” -student
“Don’t worry Miss! I know exactly what you mean... children.” -haknyeon
whenever he tries to get a word in, he has to talk VERY LOUDLY
he literally has to talk over changmin
but changmin doesn’t mind, he just smiles, nods and listens
changmin is super proud whenever haknyeon speaks
and haknyeon thinks that’s very sweet
but that thought passes as soon as changmin makes a joke about him
at the end of the day, they love each other at least to a certain extent and students adore them
Sunwoo:
he is not an ordinary professor either
class time? virtual meetings?
nope, not with sunwoo
again, in the classes the boyz teach, attendance is mandatory
mandatory? sunwoo has never heard of her
he doesn’t require students to attend meetings and homework is also something he does not expect from them
he uploads powerpoint-presentations with videos and audio of him explaining everything in the presentation
but the boy is clumsy
and he is not good with anything technical
so him dropping his glass and spilling his water all over his lap?
well, students will see this in the video
“... and it’s important to- YAAAAH OH NO....”
*awkward silence*
“I spilled my water... if you haven’t seen.”
*more awkward silence*
“Give me a minute”
*the video continues and sunwoo is nowhere in sight*
after ten minutes of an empty chair, sunwoo returns and continues as if nothing has happened
sometimes his kids walk in and dab in the camera without him noticing
“and then - Hey! I am at WORK.”
he loves it though
and he posts these “fail” videos on purpose
“I want to show you, that it is okay to not be perfect and to not be in control of everything! Stuff like that happens, especially with us being in home-office! And don’t worry, if your mom walks in or whatever, in my classroom no one gets judged! This is life and now that we have to do everything from home, the unexpected is unavoidable!”
Another students’ favorite
Eric:
I would love to imagine him as this savage prof I have in mind... but no <3
he is a sweet guy
also super obsessed with the class he is teaching
he is LIVING for it
usually experiences technical problems right before class starts
“oopsie daisy, sorry guys... might take a few minutes *giggles*”
and no, it’s not a creepy giggle but a really cute one, I swear!
constantly has a pen in his hand and clicks it absentmindedly while teaching
students constantly hear the clicking sound... or when the pen falls to the ground.... which happens every five minutes
he constantly forgets to mute himself whenever he wants students to work by themselves and all they hear is him chugging down his water or whatever drink he has prepared
also sends out super sweet emails
but due to him being a young dude, he wants students to call him by his last name
he also calls students by their last name but he does use smileys to lighten the professional mood that comes with honorifics
overall a very motivated but extremely kind-hearted dude
#the boyz#scenarios#kpop#imagines#reactions#headcanon#the boyz as#eric sohn#jacob bae#kevin moon#ju haknyeon#younghoon#hyunjae#juyeon#sunwoo#sangyeo#chanhee#changmin
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Ateez reactions to you walking out in only lingerie
Warning- suggestive & cursing
Summery-your friend is over but you didn’t know about it so you only walkout in lingerie cause it’s your own house duh
Word count-1,953
None of the gifs or pictures belong to me credit to the respective owners
Seonghwa- “are you waiting for someone” you grab a blanket that was near and covered yourself “can you tell me when you’re coming over so I can be prepared asshole” “but answer my question are you waiting for someone” “no I’m not I just wanted to take pictures cause I feel pretty today” “girls do that” “some girls but why are you here” “I wanted to hang out with you but I kinda wanna do something else now” Seonghwa got up from the couch and walk towards me and pulled me closer to him “w-what are you doing” I was blushing hard “well you teased me so you got to finish what you started” he then looked down I looked down as well and saw that he had a boner “take the blanket off Y/n” “why should I you cant tell me what to do” he pulled me closer and whispered in my ear “you have no fucking idea what’s going to happen to you slut” he pulled the blanket off me and kissed me full of lust. The rest is up to your imagination hehe
Hongjoong- ”special occasion” I quickly turned my head just to see Hongjoong so I calm down *sigh* “no just wanted to feel pretty” “you’re always pretty there’s no need to wear lingerie to feel pretty” “thanks Hongjoong but do you think it's pretty” “yeah I think it’s pretty but you look beautiful in anything” I blush lightly and giggle “I’m going to change into real clothes be right back” “no don’t change it don’t get to see you like this often but I wish I did” he walks to me and kisses my forehead “your so beautiful I wish you were mine every day you know that” “no I didn’t but I have thought the same though” “great minds think alike” he hugs me and kisses my neck “will you be my girlfriend Y/n” I kiss him “yes”
Yunho- I automatically feel something hit me I see it was a hoodie Yunho’s hoodie to be specific “cover yourself you shouldn’t just walk out in lingerie” “BRUH if you would have told me you were coming over I would have this is my house after all” “I did tell you I texted you” I checked my phone it didn’t say Yunho texted me “it didn’t come thru so you didn’t tell me” “oh well umm okay sorry” “it’s whatever” “but why are you wearing lingerie” “I going to sell the pictures for money” “WHAT THE HELL Y/N, NO YOU CAN’T DO THAT I CAN PROVIDE FOR YOU DON'T DO THAT PEOPLE DON'T DESERVE TO SEE YOU LIKE THIS” “hahaha I was joking I wouldn’t do that I’m just wearing them I haven’t worn lingerie for some time now so I felt like wearing them and I look pretty in them” “put on the hoodie Y/n and please dont scare me like that” I giggle and put the hoodie on “sorry yunho but will you really provide for me” “of course I care about you so i'll do anything for you” I kiss his cheek “thanks yunho” i wasn't prepared for what yunho was going to say next “i can only see you like this don't let another man see you like this or i'll kill him okay” he gave me light kisses on my neck “okay” he kisses my lips “good”
(this man's going to be the death of me i swear)
Yeosang- “someone's feeling their self huh” “AHHH KANG YEOSANG WTF YOU SCARED ME” “I can see that haha” “why didn’t you tell me you were coming” “there isn’t a need to I come over almost every day” “true but dame dude” “your lingerie is cute by the way” “thanks but of course you do, don’t you have a thing for lingerie” “yeah but that doesn’t mean I can’t compliment you does it” “no it’s just that you like girls in lingerie in general so it doesn’t feel that special to me” “well your the first girl I have seen in person so it is special but also you’re just beautiful in general” I blush a little “well thank you” “your welcome and I know you took pictures can you send them to me” “KANG YEOSANG” “what~ I just wanna have them keepsakes” “what so you can get turned on by them, pervert” he comes over to me and whispers in my ear “no I already have you here so I can do whatever I want to you I just want them to remember how fucking beautiful you are” I felt my heartbeat go down to my pussy i weakly said fuck “ah~ turned on be my words how cute” “y-yeosang stop” “aww but you're the one who ask why i wanted to pictures” i whispered to him “you don't know how bad i want this right now” “i’ll give it to you then” yeosang started to kiss me full of lust and then kissing down my neck and leaving marks and started going lower. The rest is up to your imagination hehet
San- “someone looking like a snack” I choked on my own spit when I heard san “CHOI SAN WTF” I go an grab a blanket that’s on the couch and cover myself “aww why are you covering yourself” “cause I feel uncomfortable now” “sorry I didn’t mean it like that it’s just you look sexy” “thanks but why in the hell didn’t you tell me you were coming over” “I wanted to surprise you but it looks like I got surprised instead” “can you stop san” “you’re getting flustered by my compliments how cute but you should get showered in compliments every day if you look like this” I was blushing super hard and didn’t even want to look at him “look at me Y/n” he lifts my chin to look at him “your so beautiful any man or woman would want you but they cant cause your mine isn’t that right Y/n” “I never claimed myself as yours” I looked away from him “well you’re going to be mine after tonight” he picked me up my blanket fell and I wrapped my legs around him so i didn't fall then he started kissing my neck lightly then up to my lips while kissing he took us to my bedroom. The rest of is up to your imagination
Mingi- ”surprAHHHHHH Y/N CLOTHES PLEASE” “MINGI why are you here” I cover myself with the robe I luckily had on “I wanted to surprise you but as you can see that didn’t work out are you covered yet” “yes you can look now” mingi looks at me with a red face and an awkward smile “hi” “hi you okay” “yeah just wasn’t expecting it that’s all” I just laugh at him “I know for a fact that you’re not innocent you live with 7 boys for crying out loud” “I know but I wasn’t expecting for you to be wearing lingerie cause normally it for a special occasion” “yeah it normally is but I don’t have a boyfriend to wear them for so I wear them for myself and take pictures” “why do you take pictures” “so when I do get a boyfriend I can send them to him” “ah~ so if I become your boyfriend I can get pictures of you wearing lingerie” “hahaha yeah why do you ask do you want the pictures I took hahaha” he scratches the back of his neck “no not really I was just asking” “are you sure you were just asking” i walk closer to him and sit on his lap facing him his eyes go wide “yeah i was just asking your my friend i wouldn't need those photos” “ah~ okay then” i try to get off his lap until he puts his hands on my hips to keep my still “don't move” i sit still like he asked me to he puts his head on my shoulder and i can feel him undo my bow on my robe and take it off me he then kisses my shoulder and looks at me “why would i want the pictures when i have the real thing in front of me” he then kisses me again but on the lips this time and i of course kiss back. The rest is up to you imagination
Wooyoung- I saw that wooyoung was there on his phone not paying attention so I was going to go to my room to put on clothes but the floor creaked when I tried to turn around “nice ass Y/n” I said fuck under my breath “wow thanks wooyoung” “yeah no problem” I turned around to face him “I was being sarcastic” I saw Wooyoungs face go flush “you flustered that I have a nice body” “shut up I just wasn’t expecting you to turn around I thought you were still going to get clothes” “I’m not going to get clothes anymore you already saw me so there’s no reason” “oh okay” “do you want to eat something” “sure” that's when I started my plain I played music and the song that came on was she said by crush feat, BIBI which is a song about sex ironically and started to cook I felt wooyoung intensely staring at me but I just let him but said “take a photo it will last longer” “your such a fucking tease I swear” I heard him get off the couch and walk towards me then I feel his arms go around my waist he whispers in my ear “i already have know need to tell me but it does confused me that you didn't get dressed even when i had saw you are you trying to turn me on” i felt something poke my leg “so what if i was” “your such a fucking slut” he starts leaving marks on my neck and shoulders so i turn the stove off cause i already knew where this was going so i turn around and wrapped my arm around his neck and kiss him. The rest is up to you imagination
Jongho- “well you look cute” “oh hi jongho and thank you” you look down at yourself and saw that you never changed out of your lingerie but you were glad that it wasn’t one of you more revealing ones “umm I’m going to go change” “okay but you don’t have to I really don’t care your not showing to much anyway” “okay well I’m just going to grab a hoodie then” “you can wear mine” he takes off the hoodie he was wearing and hands it to me “thanks” I put it on and of course it was big on me cause I’m a couple of inches shorter than him I look at him and he looks at me smiles “you look even cuter now” “haha thank you” I whisper to myself that I love his smile “can I have my hug I normally get a hug from you every time we see each other” “oh yeah sorry” I go to hug him and he gets up from the chair to hug me too I pull him close to me in a very loving hug then I feel his hands go to my thighs then a second later I was in his arms with my legs wrapped around him “your so beautiful Y/n” jongho kisses me and i kiss back he pulled away and smiled “i love your smile” “i love your smile too but wanna know what i love more” i hum in response “you i love you Y/n” “i giggle “i love you to jongho”
#ateez reactions#ateez imagines#ateez senarios#ateez seonghwa#ateez hongjoong#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#kpop#ateez smut#Ateez fluff
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TAKE CARE OF ME
Request: “Can I request a smutty goodness with daddy Steve and a soft reader? Maybe she wants to take care of daddy for once but he won't let her. Thank you❤❤” @donutloverxo
Pairing: Steve Rogers x (female!)reader
Word count: 2500-ish
Warning(s): SMUUUT 18+
A/N: I’m not the best smut writer, that’s for sure, but I enjoyed writing this while I should have been preparing for my exams. Thank you for sending in this lovely request :) I hope you like it! PS: I didn’t check this, so please forgive any mistakes.
Steve always wants to take care of you.
He draws you a bubble bath with slow burning candles lining the edge of the tub and soft jazz music playing in the background after particularly long or especially dangerous missions that often force the two of you to spend time away from each other.
He cooks you dinner when you’re too tired to stand on your feet on sparring days with Natasha who makes you fight her in little mini skirts, long tight dresses and strappy heels without weapons to make the job easier. He’s not a great cook, but he tries his best for you. Hell, he’s even learned how to work YouTube just so he can watch videos on how to properly prepare steaks, quiches and risottos.
He treats and surprises you with lavish gifts every chance he gets. In his eyes, he doesn’t need an excuse or special occasion to surprise his best girl with diamonds, pearls and designer handbags. The man has more money than he knows how to spend on himself, so he does his best by giving it to you. You never ask for anything, and you cherish every gift he’s ever given you. More often than not, the fact he’s able to pick out items that are just your taste makes your head spin in amazement.
There’s an enormous bouquet of fresh pink roses and white lilies on your dining room table every Thursday, and as long as either of you aren’t away on missions, Friday nights are reserved for dates. Those are typically spent at expensive restaurants that put his own food to shame and they always end in an entire night of passionate, sweet sex in various locations.
You wear the dresses he buys you while dining at those restaurants, low cut and in soft colors that accentuate your glowing skin and that compliment the fiery look in your eyes that you give him when you eye-fuck him from across the table. He started buying his slacks in a larger size just so his throbbing dick doesn’t strain against the luxurious material. Even then, he sometimes doesn’t make it through the night, and more often then not, the two of you end up in the bathroom, your hands pressed against the mirror while he fucks you over the sink. One time, you didn’t quite make it home; you ended up pulled up on the side of the highway with your panties around your ankles while he fucked you against the hood of his car.
He bought you a house so you don’t have to live in the tower anymore, because according to the man whose super hero name seems to be permanently attached to his being, separating work and private life is extremely important. You suspect he bought it so he can fuck you in every room without having to be quiet and afraid of being walked in on, because he loves the way you sound when you loudly moan his name when he makes you cum.
He bought you a car so you can get around easier when he’s not there. He knows you prefer being in the passenger’s seat and prefers to drive, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer when he handed you the key. The two of you fucked on the backseat the first night you got it, windows fogged and air thick with sex. The drive afterwards was the best he’s ever had, right hand rubbing soft circles on your bruised thigh while the breeze coming in through the open window blew the scent of himself on your skin back to him.
He takes you on vacations three times a year to resorts with private beaches so he doesn’t have to share his view of your ass with anyone. He loves seeing you strutting around in mini dresses and skimpy bikinis all day long, and fingering your sweet pussy inside swimming pools with bright blue ripples has become a new favorite past time of his.
You love it when he takes care of you, although for you, it goes far beyond expensive gifts and lavish holidays to exotic places. Sure, you enjoy being spoiled by your boyfriend, but its the idea that you’re constantly on his mind that really makes your heart beat faster. The only problem you face is that he spoils you so much, you hardly find the time and place to do the same for him.
It’s been three weeks since you last saw him. The house out in the countryside that the two of you share feels too empty without his presence, and you can’t wait to see him again. Your heart has been skipping beats since the moment you woke up, and it hasn’t stopped thumping ever since.
Standing in front of the full body mirror in your bedroom, you take a moment to check yourself out. Clad in a new pink satin lingerie set your heart surges, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. The dress you put on over it is one of Steve’s favorites, a figure-hugging number in a light shade of lilac. Something about seeing you in varying shades of pastel always seems to drive Steve over the edge.
Today is the day you intend to take care of him.
You prepare his favorite food well in advance and play his favorite music while you wait for him to come home. You know you could’ve bought him a welcoming gift, but you know he doesn’t care for materialistic things and that he already owns everything he needs right there with you.
You feel nervous and excited at the same time all throughout the day. Butterflies seemed to have blossomed inside your stomach, and they don’t stop fluttering around for even a second. When the front door finally opens, the feeling only intensifies, and you quickly scramble to get the dessert into the fridge to chill before he sees it.
“Y/N?” he shouts, voice straining in order to make himself heard through the entire house at once, “you here?”
“In the kitchen!” you shout back as you straighten out your dress.
Your back is turned to him when he enters, and his pupils dilate when he catches a glimpse of your ass straining against the lilac satin. The familiar scent of his cologne invades your nose, and you can tell he showered in the tower after the debriefing when the smell of his body wash enters your nostrils next.
“Smells good,” he mumbles against the bare skin of your shoulder, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you reply with shut eyes while relishing the feeling of his body pressed up against you, “I made dinner.”
The two of you eat by candle light. Steve tells you everything that happened on the mission in great detail, and in turn you explain to him what you’d been up to while he was away. His eyes never once leave you, and the intense feeling of his gaze burns every inch of your skin.
Before you have time to bring out the pavlova you made, you find yourself pushed against your bedroom door. Steve’s hands are all over you, working their way up the length of your right leg while the other has you by the waist. His mouth, hot and wet, tastes like Asgardian mead on your tongue, and the kisses he trails along your jawline light your skin on fire.
“Tell daddy how much you missed him,” he mumbles in your ear, “sweet girl.”
“So much,” you manage, “I missed you so much, daddy.”
You vividly remember the first time it accidentally slipped out. You were on your knees with him behind you when the word spilled from your panting lips, and you’ll never forget the instant effect it had on him. Steve had never been called daddy before, but the way it sounded coming from you while his dick was inside of you to the hilt nearly sent his senses into overdrive and it stuck with you ever since.
“I missed you too baby,” he says while leading you to the freshly made bed with satin sheets, “let me show you how much I missed you.”
His favorite dress is on the floor not even a minute later, and the sight of what you’re wearing underneath makes Steve’s mouth water more than any food could ever do. The soft shade of pastel compliments your skin so perfectly it’s painful, and he doesn’t waste time getting out of his clothes after seeing you sprawled out on the bed for him.
The kisses he trails from your shin to your thigh make you shiver. Your panties are already wet by the time he plants a kiss on top of them, leaving the color to darken to a deep shade of pink that marks your arousal.
“So wet already,” he muses, “that all for me?”
“Yes daddy,” you moan when he presses another kiss to your clothed pussy, “all for you.”
He hooks his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your new panties and takes agonizingly long to pull them down, inching them down your burning flesh while he peppers more kisses on your stomach.
You take the liberty of unhooking your bra, and it lands on top of the panties he’s already thrown on the floor. Your hands caress his bare chest, fingertips relishing in the feeling of hard muscles protected by smooth, milky skin. Every time you see him without clothes you marvel at how perfectly sculpted his body is, every thing from the broadness of his shoulders to the clean cut v-lines that lead your eyes straight down to his large, beautifully straining cock.
“Oh god,” you mewl when his tongue connects to your already soaking pussy, “Steve!”
He savors the heavenly flavor on his tongue when his tongue dances across your pussy. You’re a moaning mess by the time his thick fingers plunge inside of you and he laps at your clit like a starved man while he slowly pumps them in and out of you. You’re writhing beneath him in an attempt to gain more friction when he doesn’t speed up, and he smiles cheekily against your bud when your muscles contract around his fingers.
“Please,” you can feel your cheeks burning, “Steve.”
“What do you want, baby?” he asks, pausing for a moment.
“Want you,” you pant, “inside of me.”
You whine when he pushes his dripping fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on him while he kisses your cheek and the lobe of your ear. His chest covers your own, and you don’t realize how much you’ve been craving the feeling of his body weight pressing down on top of you until his body is flush with your own.
“I love you so much baby,” he whispers when he lines himself up with your aching entrance, “my sweet girl.”
“I love you-” a sinful moan interrupts your profession of love when you feel his cock sliding slowly between your folds, “I love you too, daddy.”
“I’m gonna show you how much I missed you,” he groans.
You cry out when he finally enters you. The sensation of his thick cock filling you causes your eyes to involuntarily roll back. You grab a tight hold of the sheets for support when he grips your hips to get a better angle. The sight of you beneath him, lips parted and strands of hair already sticking to your face is damn near enough for Steve to cum then and there, but he pushes the urge back down while he takes a moment to get used to the feeling of your walls stretching beautifully around his aching cock.
Your moans echo through the room when he finally thrusts into you, a thin layer of glistening sweat quickly forming on the toned biceps he uses to push and pull himself in and out of your tight cunt. The scent of sex quickly pervades the air, and the sweet slick drips out of your pussy and onto the sheets you washed just this morning.
“Feels so good daddy,” you whine, “please don’t stop.”
Every inch of your skin burns under Steve’s touch and you find yourself getting closer to the edge with each roll of Steve’s hips. The knot buried deep inside your stomach tightens, the coil almost ready to snap. The way Steve seems to know exactly which spot makes your toes curl makes you for a moment believe he possesses some sort of telekinetic powers. The rhythm created by his hips is far more intoxicating than any bottle of Asgardian mead, and the edge you’re threatening to fall down is the most dangerous of all.
“I won’t stop until you cum baby,” he tells you, “I want to see your face when you cum all over my dick.”
Your mind draws blank when his thrusts quicken, the movements of his hips becoming sloppier with each passing moment. You can tell by the throbbing of his cock inside of you and the frown etched in his forehead that he’s just as close as you are.
His voice is muffled between the crook of your neck and the mattress, but you can hear him muttering filthy words under ragged breaths.
“You feel so good baby,” he pants, “gonna make me cum.”
Before you can respond, warmth engulfs your entire body from head to toe. You arch your back, pressing your breasts flush against Steve’s glistening chest. His name leaves your lips repeatedly when you come undone beneath him, and he follows right behind you when the sensation of your clenching walls becomes too much for him to bear.
Steve slowly eases his way out of you and the both of you take a moment to regain your breaths. Your mind begins to wander, and a sudden wave of sadness overtakes you.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asks when he notices the slight pout of your lips and frown on your forehead, “did I hurt you?”
“No,” you say quickly, “it’s just that... well... I wanted to take care of you for once.”
Steve’s heart clenches when he hears the sad sound of your voice and he turns on his side to face you. With his free hand, he wipes a strand of sticky hair out of your face. Then, he takes yours and holds it gently.
“You do take care of me,” he says earnestly, “you take care of me every day.”
“How?” you raise a brow, “you’re always the one paying for everything and stuff.”
“Baby,” he kisses your knuckles, “you know how I feel about money. It doesn’t mean anything to me, and it sure as hell doesn’t define the amount of love I have for you and vice versa. Making sure I take time away from my job is how you take care of me. I’d be a mess without you, Y/N. I’d be miserable drowning in work if i didn’t have you.”
“You make me a happy man every day,” he continues, “you made me realize that I’m right where I should be. I don’t dwell on the past anymore because I have you. I’m happy, because of you.”
You smile and nod, “I love you Steve.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
You’re silent for a moment, enjoying the sound of Steve’s heartbeat against your ear when you lay your head on his bare chest. Just before you’re about to doze off, a single thought enters your brain.
“Steve?” you ask.
“Hmm?” he replies, also on the verge of falling asleep.
“We forgot about dessert.”
#Steve Rogers#steve rogers fic#steve rogers smut#marvel#marvel masterlist#marvel fic#marvel smut#captain america#captain america fic#captain america smut#captain america imagines#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#captain america imagine#marvel imagines#jammywrites#steve rogers fluff#captain america fluff#avengers fic#avengers smut#Avengers#avengers imagine
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Time
Summary: just some fluff between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark’s daughter. Ariana Stark decided to gift Cap. something special.
Warning: Implied smut.
A/N: Hiya! I came up with the idea for this one shot while scrolling through Pinterest. I saw some beautiful pocket watches and I couldn’t help but write something for our very own “Man out of time”. It was supposed to be a really short one shot, but clearly I got carried away! I intend to write more on the same characters. Hope you enjoy it!
Comments, and likes are welcome! :)
Ariana Stark stood leaning against the glass walls of her tastefully decorated office. The spectacular view from the twenty-fifth floor of Stark industries was something else altogether. She had specifically chosen this office for its location and the view it provided. It was small, quiet and situated in the corner, away from the bustle of typically loud activities. Almost like her. Although Tony stark, her father did not approve of her choice, she believed in living up to her reputation of being a recluse. Ariana couldn’t help but gaze at the late afternoon sky. It reminded her of a certain blue-eyed super soldier, warm and golden.
“Martin? What do you gift a man out of time”?
Her personal secretary stopped his work and looked up. “Sorry Miss Stark, what are you referring to here?
She turned to him with a look of despair. “its 4th of July today, Captain Roger’s birthday. Now, I know he made it clear that he doesn’t want a party or even anyone wishing him but then I thought, that shouldn’t stop me from gifting him something”
Martin grinned at her. He knew that Ariana had unknowingly developed a soft corner for the Captain. Over the past year, Martin had quietly been noticing the subtle changes in the behavior of his employer. To put it simply, the girl with the heart of gold bloomed every time Steve Rogers was around her.
“Stop grinning and help me Martin, I have been wracking my brain for a week but I just can’t figure out what to gift him and a regular gift will just not do!” she walked across the room and slumped down on the leather sofa. Ariana wanted the gift to be special, something meaningful. She knew how difficult it was for him fit in with people. Still, he was getting better, the avengers had become a dysfunctional family of sorts. But, what bothered her the most was that while time had sprinted ahead leaving him behind, he was mentally still a part of the 1940s. It wasn’t his fault, no one had bothered to help him catch up with the ravages of time.
Martin squinted his eyes at her and answered, “What could be a better gift for a man out of time than TIME itself?” Ariana stared at him in disbelief. How could she not have come up with this? A watch would be the perfect thing she could give him! Clearly, being one of the brightest minds of the century had not helped her. She began laughing, jumped out of her seat and shook him by his shoulders. “Oh, thank you so much Martin, I know exactly what to gift him now! you are truly the best!” With that, she grabbed her purse and rushed out of her office.
The young Stark walked into the chicest shop in Manhattan, known for selling all sorts of luxury brands. The attendant greeted her warmly and began leading her towards one of the counters. About an hour later, she was surrounded by some of the finest and most expensive timepieces. Some were too flashy and jeweled, while others too delicate and dull. But none of them had Steve written on them. At this point, even the attendant was starting to get anxious. Ariana let out a sigh of defeat and began to wander around the store. She was almost about to give up when her eyes fell on one of the bottom corner shelves of a counter.
She pointed to the shelf and asked “May I see that collection?”
The attendant furrowed his eyebrows “Oh those are pocket watches, they are not…how should I put it? We don’t consider them to be our finest, so I didn’t really think they would be worth your time”
Ariana shot him a cold glare “Why don’t you let me decide what is worth my time and what isn’t? Now would you be kind enough to bring them out?” The attendant quickly lowered his gaze and walked towards the shelf. As he brought out the collection of pocket watches, Ariana gasped with delight. She didn’t even need to see the entire collection because there was one pocket watch in the corner which had caught her eye and she knew this was it. The perfect time piece for the golden boy. Ariana walked out of the shop feeling as if she had found a priceless diamond. “he must have returned home from his mission” she thought to herself. The next stop, his home.
It had been a week since she last met him. They had become good friends over the last 2 years, but the feelings she had for him were far stronger than just friendship. Truth be told, Ariana missed him terribly. She missed his blue eyes that changed shades depending on his mood. With her, they were always the color of the sky on a spring day, soft and clear. She missed the warmth he exuded, the gentle voice he used while speaking to her. With him she could be herself. It was as if time had gifted him to her. It was only when she arrived at his door did she realize how nervous and excited she was to meet him. She quickly opened the small mirror in her compact and adjusted her hair. She knocked on the door and a moment later he appeared. She stood there wide eyed, staring at him with a smile. It was as if Adonis himself had appeared.
“Ana, wow, what are you doing here? Sorry, did I forget something?” Steve couldn’t believe his luck, the only person he had wanted to see on his birthday was this gorgeous girl who had stolen his heart. Steve silently thanked the Gods for sending her to his doorstep.
“What so I can’t visit you unless we have a plan? I’m hurt Captain Rogers” Ariana pretended to wipe tears of her cheeks. Steve shook his head and laughed at her antics. “No, sorry Doll, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting you, come on in” Ariana loved it when Steve called her Doll or Ana, it gave her hope that maybe, just maybe he saw her more than a friend.
As she walked into his living room, Steve couldn’t help but stare. She was one of the kindest souls he had known. What he admired the most about her was that despite being a genius like her father and extraordinarily beautiful, she didn’t have an ounce of attitude or arrogance. Ariana made everyone feel special. She was gentle and compassionate. Falling in love with her was as easy as breathing. It was only because of her that the man out of time began feeling slightly at ease. To him she was perfection. He longed to hold her in his arms, kiss her deeply, and never let her go. But there was just one problem. She was a Stark. The apple of Tony’s eye. Steve knew the fellow Avenger would never approve of “Captain America” falling for his only daughter. Tony already harbored slightly bitter feelings for Steve, the last thing he needed was the Avengers to get affected cause he couldn’t stop himself from falling in love with Iron Man’s daughter. So instead, Steve had chosen to maintain a casual friendship with her. It honestly killed him to have her so close to him and yet so far. He didn’t know how long he could keep up this façade. The captain lead her to believe he was still having a hard time in this century, truth be told, he was. But it wasn’t as bad as when he had first come out of the ice. He was beginning to feel at home thanks to his brown eyed angel. Steve was afraid that if he told her he was doing well, she would stop spending time with him. And that was unacceptable to the super soldier, for all he wanted was to be around her and in her. He had spent many nights fantasizing about her in his bed, against the wall, in the shower and basically in every way he could make her his. He wasn’t proud of his filthy thoughts, she deserved to be treated with all the love and care possible. But, Ariana brought out the side of Steve that no one had seen before. She was everything he wanted, everything he had lost in the past and everything he knew he couldn’t have.
Ariana’s sweet voice drew him out of his thoughts. “Steve? penny for your thoughts?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about the mission, sorry, so what have you been up to this week? Steve tried to change the subject and steer clear of any accidental confessions.
Ariana brought out the elegantly wrapped gift and thrust it into his hands “Well, I know what you said about your birthday but I couldn’t help myself, I hope you aren’t mad at me. Happy Birthday Steve!”
Steve didn’t know how to react. “Ana why? I mean this is really sweet but you didn’t have to get me anything. I really don’t like making a big deal of my birthday”
“Yes, yes, I know, but how could I let you get away just like that? Birthdays are meant to be special and you are special in every way. you deserve the world” Ariana gazed at him with a look of adoration.
Steve stood frozen in his spot. He was overcome by the sudden urge to tuck the loose strand framing her soft features and run his fingers along her arms. He wanted nothing more than to pull her by the waist and press his lips to hers. The ringtone of her phone brought him out of his fantasy. Ariana frowned at the screen. She took the phone call, went to the other side of the room and mouthed a sorry to Steve. It was Tony. Whenever Steve thought about telling his feelings to Ariana, Tony would appear in some form or the other. Steve would curse himself and draw the line again.
Ariana walked back to him with a disappointed look “I’m sorry Steve, but I have to leave right now. Dad wants me back at the tower, he said he needs some help with the new tech”
She looked up at him with a sad smile. Steve internally screamed.
“I was hoping we could have gone out for a walk, but never mind, I guess I’ll open the gift later with you.”
Ariana scrunched her face “Noo please don’t do that. I want you to open it. You can message or call to tell me if you liked it, please I’m really excited. It took me quite long to decide”
Steve lightly chuckled “Ok, Miss Stark I will do as you please” She gave him a satisfied smile.
She picked up her bag and began walking towards the door. Oh, how she wished she could spend more time with her golden boy on his birthday. He wanted to stop her, but he knew there was no point. It was better this way. Before stepping out the door, she turned to him and gave him a warm smile “Happy Birthday Steve! Hope you like the gift. Enjoy the rest of the night, I will see you soon”
“Thanks Doll, I’m really glad you dropped by tonight”
Ariana was contemplating on whether or not she should kiss him good night when suddenly Steve lightly touched her arm and brought his face to hers. Her eyes widened with anticipation and for a moment she actually thought he was going for her lips, but instead, he planted a firm kiss on her cheeks. He didn’t draw away, he lingered for a moment taking in her scent.
Steve knew he was entering dangerous territory, but it was a kiss on the cheek, how difficult could it be? Turns out it was down-right painful. He was having a hard time moving away from her. Her scent was driving him mad with desire. He longed to pull her back into his apartment. Begrudgingly, he drew back. Steve gazed into her eyes and ran his thumb over Ariana’s flushed cheeks “Good night Miss Stark”.
That night, her cheeks remained flushed and her lips refused to wipe the shy smile of her face.
Back home, Steve tore the wrapping paper of the gift and opened the velvet box. And there it was, a gorgeous black pocket watch. The hinged cover had intricate carvings of the sun, moon and stars. Steve opened the cover to reveal a black and golden dial. He turned the pocket watch over and saw that it had an engraving that said “For the timeless moments to come-Love, Ana”.
Steve’s eyes were filled with tears. At that moment, he realized that it was never about the time one was in, it was about the person with whom they shared their time and space with. The timepiece provided him with the strength to cross the line he drew between Ariana and him. He was not going to let her go, for she was the one he wanted to create all the timeless moments with. He would never part with the pocket watch and would carry it around with him everywhere, it would remind him of his brown eyed angel who brought him back to life. And just like that, He made peace with time. They were no longer foes, simply two friends catching up with one another after having waited so long for the right moment to arrive.
#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers imagine#captain america fanfiction#avengersimagine#tony stark's daughter#chris evans#steve rogers#avengers fanfiction#tony stark#captain america fic#mcu drabble#steve rogers x oc#marvel#steve rogers x female reader#marvel fic#captain america
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Domaine de la Romanée | J.JH [M]
Genre: rich kid!au - angst, smut, slow burn-ish, pining, fluff
Word count: 41.2k (i am so sorry.)
Comments: ok.... i got rly engrossed in the plot and world building so i went super buckwild on this. i apologize for that. i worked on this for a whole month + 2 weeks so .... enjoy! i’d love love looove hearing some feedback! also UNEDITED.
Warnings: very, very, very explicit sexual content - rough sex, choking, throat-fucking, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex, dom!jaehyun, sub!reader, overstimulation, unprotected, breeding kink | strong language, various sexual scenes, infidelity(? kinda).
Even the most pure become tainted when their eyes meet his. This was doomed from the start; you knew it was dangerous, you knew it was bad - but all those thoughts left your mind the second he made you feel good.
[ ⚠ ] This piece involves a very problematic scenario (ie. infidelity). Please note that I do not promote nor advocate it. This is a work of pure fiction, involving a plot that is compelling to read and write about. Please read the trigger warnings listed and assess if you are comfortable to proceed - I do not wish to harm or trigger anybody. Adding on, while this work of fiction features real people, I would like to remind you that how I portray them does not, in any way, correlate to how they truly act in real life - I am just using them as characters for a plot. I do not wish to defame or insult anybody, I am just here to practice my passion in writing and entertain you.
Domaine de la Romanée - Field of Romance
You eyed the roses placed within the glass vase situated in the center of the table and wondered to yourself when this monotonous gala will reach its conclusion. The Versace gown that hugs your body has already started to itch at your skin and the corset that your stylists forced you into before leaving for the jubilee eludes you from making numerous rounds to the dessert table, but your mother’s joyful grin and welcoming arms lead you to believe that the night is far from reaching its end. Unable to slouch over in your seat, all you are able to do is sit stiff against the backrest of your plush velvet chair, fingers pinched at the stem of your glass of wine, swirling the liquid of domaine de la romanée-cont.
This gala was all your mother’s proposal for her new Spring collection releasing just a few days prior, ensembles of pastel and bold colours rolling out onto the runway and fostering a flock of people to rush into your boutiques littered across the globe. Your great-great-grandmother was the founder of Decoré, established in the year 1882, and the brand overtook the fashion industry by storm, raking millions and millions of dollars into your family name. She, who passed the company down to her daughter, who passed it onto her own daughter, who passed it onto your mother, were all eager with the idea of leading their own business. Forthwith, in a few years time, it’ll be your own turn in leading this empire - and you couldn’t be more than fervent in finally having the brand in your own two hands.
Of course, your mother thinks the same, as to why this celebration doubles as a matchmaking service for you, her only child.
“(Y/N), dear!” she calls your name, hushed by the constant classical music reverberating from the string ensemble. You turn to meet her direction, eyes automatically moving to the man she was pulling along with her, and for the nth time that night, wished that you weren’t stuck in such a tight corset so you could guzzle up every wine bottle in sight in order to avoid the imminent doom. “There is someone I’d like you to meet!”
Yukhei “Lucas” Xuxi Wong the IV, whom most people know as Wong Yukhei, whom most people refer to as only Lucas. The amount of names that the man holds equates nowhere near the amount of distaste you hold for him; if it weren’t for the grossly iniquitous personality that you have come to know and hear by virtue of the internet, you would have already been charmed by his sharp, dusky eyes and spellbinding smile. Your poor mother, far too oblivious, beams in what you could only describe as acceptance.
“This is Yukhei Wong the IV,” your mother grins as Lucas pulls a chair out for her to sit on. He smooths down his tan Hermés suit before sitting down in the plush seat on your other side, already attempting to send provocative eyes your way. “He is the next in line for the chief executive position of the Wong Institute of Medicine, you know, the beautiful university in New York? Yukhei, this is my daughter, (Y/N)!”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Yukhei.” you say, feigning a kind smile as you outstretch your hand towards the tall, handsome man.
“Please, call me Lucas,” he coquettes, taking your hand and leaning down to press a kiss on your knuckles. For a split second, you are unsure if the cause of the slight taste of domaine de la romanée-cont travelling back up your esophagus was induced by this wanton or if it’s due to your corset digging into your stomach. “It’s very nice to meet you as well, dear. You are just as beautiful as you are in the photo shoots I’ve seen. Even more so, really.”
You throw him a simper as you gently pull your hand away from him, rejection clear on your expression but unbeknownst to him. You’ve read up on countless articles about this man, how doomed the reputation of Wong Institute was going to be once he gets ahold of the company; limitless cheating scandals, a myriad of DUIs, and multitudes of other alleged crimes, you’re almost confused, if not horrified, at how on earth your mother would think he’d be a perfect candidate for you - but the glimmering chandelier that must have cost millions above you is the token answer to that.
“Lucas was telling me about how the last of his father’s inquiries are wrapping up before KIM is being passed onto him. Isn’t that right, Lucas?” your mother urges the man, who looks at you with a type of hunger in his eyes that you’d rather not question him about. “You two youngsters have a chat, I have to go welcome my guests!”
“Yes, of course!” Lucas tears his eyes off your body for the first time since meeting him only seconds ago, sending a kilowatt smile at your mother, who pivots on her heel before walking back towards the entrance hallway. “My father is such an inspirational man, he’s built an empire of medical resources. So many of the world’s renowned doctors graduated from our institute - but, to be truthful, I’m terrified of taking that empire into my own hands without someone I can call my wife by my side to cheer me on.”
You try all you can to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “Is that so?” leaves your mouth in bitter fashion.
Ever since you had become of age five years ago, your mother has been desperately trying to match you with a whole slew of men to wed from her business networks, planning blind dates for you and offering you their numbers. From medicine, to theatrics, you have encountered every type of man possible in just the last few years and yet, none of them come quite close to your savour. Either they were far too goal-oriented for you to envision a loving future, far too dull for you to envision a happy future, or far too… abhorrent for you to envision a healthy future. Perhaps your mother knew of Lucas’ true colours but only considered the business venture and the large percentage of the stock he would inherit from the Wong Institute - but other than that, you are stumped as to why she would even contemplate a marriage between the two of you, fields of expertise far too wide and vast from each other.
“Yes, it is,” Lucas says, eyes casting down as if he were reenacting a monologue of a play. “But it’s hard, you know? I haven’t found the perfect woman to marry yet; they’re either far too childish, or are plain gold-diggers, which, frankly, isn’t really my taste.”
“Hm.” you answer bluntly, taking another sip of your savoury wine.
As he continues to drone on and on about his ideals and morals, none of which you are inclined to believe at all, you find yourself falling short from the wine in your glass, having already drunk all of the liquid.
“Would you like me to get you some more, (Y/N)?” Lucas asks, cocking his head to the side, a gummy smile stretching on his face.
You shake your head. “It’s alright, I’ll get it myself. I’m in need of a refresher, anyways,” you stand, legs slightly numb from where your corset pinched your waist. “It was very nice talking to you, Lucas.”
“Of course, of course,” he says, standing up as well. “Can I see you again sometime?”
You scrunch your nose, and for the first time since meeting him, he flashes a dejected look in his eye. “You’ll have to book an appointment with my manager.”
And with that, you pivot on your heel and head towards the refreshments, leaving a stunned Lucas in your wake, praising yourself for finishing your wine rather than dumping the remnants of it over his Hermés suit. You let out a sigh as you find solace in the classical music, reading the labels of each wine bottle displayed in rows on the table. Finding the bottle for domaine de la romanée-conti, you request one of the caterers to fill your glass, and within seconds, you find yourself standing in the corner of the venue, far from where you originally sat. You studied the decorations adorned throughout the hall, very much in theme with your mother’s Spring collection - fabrics of pastel silk and decorative flowers suspending from the ceiling above, causing chandeliers to look like floweret bulbs and to emit a slight, coral glow.
“Quite peculiar that the great (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is standing in the corner and not conversing with the guests of her mother’s own gala,” a merry voice causes you to look up from your swirling wine, breaking out into your first smile of the night at the sight of your best friend.
Joohyun “Irene” Kim, is the granddaughter of the founder of Bae Institute of Fashion, a very renowned university of design established in the hills of Beverly and Hollywood. You had met her the first year you had gone to school, automatically sticking to each other like magnets. Although she may be a quiet woman herself, she was relatively much more confident than you were as a growing child; she had helped you bloom from your shell. You are an only child, but ever since meeting Irene, you only feel as though you’ve grown with a sister.
“Irene,” you smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Of course I came!” she giggles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How could I miss the unravelling of Decoré’s Spring Collection, especially so, since some graduates of the institute collaborated on the subject. I actually saw you not too long ago, conversing with Wong Yukhei,” she leans against the wall beside you. “Anything juicy?”
“Not so,” you let out a sigh. “It’s just mother trying to get me to meet another man for marriage. Although, I’m not sure why she would think that man is a good choice.”
“Evidently so, last I heard, he splurged half of his institute’s money on a night spent in a hotel in Italy with dozens of women on his arms,” Irene sighs, shaking her head. “Why does your mother insist on you marrying? You’re still a young woman, you have a life to live first - and besides, it’s not like any of the guys she’s found for you are all that interesting either.”
You let out a snicker, shaking your head. “You have no right in lecturing me, Irene, aren’t you engaged?” you quirked an eyebrow at your best friend while she rolls her eyes at you. “Frankly, I’ve never seen you so happy than the night Seokjin proposed. It was quite a sight, really.”
“Oh shut up,” she pouts, lightly hitting you on your shoulder. “Once you find the man you’ve been waiting for, you’ll know the feeling exactly.”
The rest of the night is spent with you glued to her arm, following her around the venue as she greets the people that she knows. Irene has always been just a little more social than you have ever been, and now with an engagement ring on her finger, it only brings more topics of discussion with her. You had the chance to meet her fiancé, Kim Seokjin, as well, proving himself a good and commendable man; he held admiring eyes for only her and had an air of genuinity - you felt the inkling of envy building in your stomach, not because you wished for Seokjin to love you, but because your best friend had found a good man to settle down with, something that doesn’t seem at all possible for you.
As the night continues on, you find yourself seated at their table, watching as individuals adorned in brand names from Vuitton to Marchesa walk past you with high chins and flutes of liquor. The string ensemble has shifted their focus from classical and moved onto jazz, and you’re almost sure they’ve been playing the same measure for the past twelve minutes. Sighing as the couple beside you converse as if they’re in their own world, you continue to look around the room, finding your mother rearranging a pot of decorative flowers to her liking right next to a panoramic window. Your eyes shift to the other side of the window, and you instinctively sit forward in your chair.
Clad in a dark grey suit by Hemsworth and a black tie tucked behind his blazer, a handsome man of tall stature does the same thing as you, watching individuals walk past and interact amongst themselves, swirling cheval blanc in his wine glass. His hair, an ash blonde, a dye job that works wonders for his creamy skin tone, is slicked back messily, a few strands of hair slipping through the layer of gel and hanging in front of his forehead. His face, square in shape, held a juxtaposition of features, sharp eyes, but a soft nose; sharp lips, but a sleek jawline and fleshy cheeks. He looked stunning, far more stunning than the men you’ve met throughout the last five years; he looked as if he walked out of an impressionist painting.
Just before you were about to tear your eyes off of the man, his head turns to your direction, automatically meeting your eyes. For a split second, his gaze tears, only to return boring into yours again, which causes you to gasp slightly. His face remains expressionless as he continues your eye contact, before he surely looks away from you one last time. Your hand bunches up the soft blue silk of your Versace gown before spinning towards Irene.
“Irene.” you grab her hand, diverting her attention away from her fiancé.
“Yes? What is it?” she turns to you. You let out a puff of air before continuing your sentence.
You turn your head again to see if the man is still there, to which he was, eyes back to focusing on the rest of the crowd lining the halls. “That man over there, in the dark grey, next to the window,” you whisper to her. “Who is he? I’ve never seen him before.”
Her eyes follow your line of sight with an expression of joy since at last, you’ve finally found a man you showed at least an inkling of interest in, but once her eyes land on the man in question, her expression falls.
“No.” her voice turns grave, much to your panic. “(Y/N), don’t you dare even think about it.”
You widen your eyes in confusion, searching her face to find clues if she were just joking - but her expression remains serious. “Why?” you ask her. “Who is he?”
“That’s Jay Jung,” she tells you, grasping your hands. “Better known as Jung Jaehyun. He’s next in line for the position of CEO for Jung & Associates, you know, that really famous law firm? They’re a family full of lawyers - they come from old money, (Y/N), they’re extremely powerful. They’re not here to play dress-up like the rest of us.”
You furrow your brows. You’ve heard about Jung & Associates before in fleeting conversations. Always on the topic of them winning innumberal cases and trials, or articles that litter your ears during outings of his father merging with and overpowering other law firms. You recall hearing your mother talking about Jung & Associates on the phone while you sat in the lounging area scrolling through your Twitter feed, just a few weeks ago.
“What? We come from old money as well, Irene.” you urge her on, not quite understanding her rejectful view of the man. The two of you also come from old money, Decoré and the BAE Institute have been established for generations and still continue to stick around by blood lineage, so you were unsure why she seemed so rattled by the man and his family name.
“Yes, but we’re different,” Irene pauses. “Our companies collaborate with each other, because we can, and because our environments and industries are light-hearted enough. Jung & Associates does not collaborate - they purchase the smaller companies, no matter what field of expertise the company aims for, and whether they like it or not.” She glances back towards Jaehyun, who had begun to walk back into the lounging area, walking past the plush velvet chairs. “I know that Jung Jaehyun holds the ego of five men, he thinks of himself as if he is on a pedestal.”
You watch as the man gazes at the decorations strewn across the gallery, a flat expression gracing his angelic features. It’s quite disheartening that a man so attractive as he could possess such alleged revolting qualities - but you aren’t shocked; throughout the years of being taught by your mother on how to pull the ropes of a company as a woman, it isn’t like you’re unaccustomed to men forging their own skills in order to get to the top. You’ve learned that the hard way.
“Why does he look like that? He looks miserable.” you scoff, eyeing him as he continues to walk past an array of your mother’s guests, avoiding their widened eyes and hushed whispers. He looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else but to be present in this gala, which is a feeling you associate with, but you would never say that out loud.
“I’m not sure, he usually has the semblance of a smile on - but that’s mostly when he’s with his brothers,” she says, watching him along with you. “It’s peculiar that he’s here by himself.”
The faintest feeling of apprehension bubbles up in your stomach once more, but you shake it off. This man is still young, the law firm hasn’t been passed down to him yet - he’s probably just here for his own amusement and pleasure, and was wholly disappointed by the lack of fun and the droning jazz music. Whatever the case, you still find yourself unable to look away from him, taking in his beauty, finding yourself wish, just for a split second, that the rumours about him are nowhere near true. He seats himself at a table near the center of the ballroom, and his eyes flashes to yours once again, his gaze lingering on your eyes. This time, you’re the first to look away.
-----
The silk chiffon robe that adorns your body designed specifically for you by Montenero is a price that even your shoes tucked away in their own walk-in closet cannot reach. The hush humdrum of french chatter originating from people passing underneath your hotel balcony is calming to you, having growing used to the booming noises that come with residing deep within a city. October is your favourite time of year to visit Bordeaux, France, as the pesky throngs of tourists finally dwindle away and due to the sun deciding to emit heat much gentler than any other season. Even the staff of Hôtel Le Palais Gallien bear a jolly expression this time of year.
It is occasions like this when you would find yourself sojourned in this city for a breather from your hectic work life, photoshoots and fashion shows demanding your occupancy more than seventy hours per week, the cool evening air kissing your cheek bones as you breath out a blissful sigh. Just on the 7 rue Ferrere inside an old warehouse building built of cobblestones and brick, was an exhibition held by your favourite photographer, John Suh - rather than flashy ornaments strewn over sets and models posing themselves in an avant-garde manner, he always pursued natural lighting, habitual individual quirks; simplistic, comfortable, authentic. You had always wished to collaborate with him on a photoshoot, but his schedule would always turn up booked; you would have to wait years to be able to book an appointment with him.
You smooth down the slightly scrunched fabric of your lilac Rachel Parcell summer dress, leather satchel by Kate Spade in tow as you step out of the sleek black car; you had told your chauffeur to meet you at the same spot in about two hours and a half, wanting to experience the exhibition in full on your own. Journalists and cameramen have already bombarded the entrance, yelling multiple queries for you to answer, ranging from questioning your enthusiasm on the upcoming exhibition or if your mother has any plans releasing a new collection before the year ends. You are only thankful for the Tom Ford sunglasses that you pull down to perch on your nose, blocking the frantic flashing lights of cameras, making your way into the cobblestone building with the help of the doorman.
When the wooden doors close and the yells of journalist cease behind the doorways, your ears are calmed with the sound of classical music, playing faintly along the gallery. It echoes against gravel walls, the effect soothing to you, encompassed in art. The photographs, stuck against large, plain, white boards, lit with dim lighting, is your first priority, slipping your sunglasses off and perching them back on your head. You study each one, carefully, analyzing each snapshot eagerly.
“(Y/N)!” you hear a familiar voice, and you quickly spin around, meeting the cordial eyes of your best friend’s fiancé. Seokjin strolls towards you with a casual gait in his step. “Fancy seeing you here!”
“Hello, Seokjin,” you smile and nod your head towards him. You take note of the wine glass pinched between his fingers, telling yourself to make rounds to the beverages soon. “I never took you as the person to enjoy fine arts.” you joke, watching him chuckle in response.
“I am the grandson of the guy who founded Kim Productions,” he tells you in a light tone. Seokjin’s grandfather is the chief executive of Kim Pictures, a prominent production company known by their several high-grossing films and featurettes; he doesn’t show it on his face nor in his attitude though - he is down-to-earth, which is admirable; men in this environment seem to forget their manners and morals. “However, I’m really just here to support one of my best friends.”
“You’re friends with John Suh?” you question him.
He nods, pressing his lips together which causes his cheeks to puff out slightly. “Yep!” he answers. “We went to the same university together, took the same courses and whatnot. One of the nicest men I’ve ever met. He actually goes by Johnny - he uses John to sound more professional.”
You nod your head in understanding, attempting to keep your excitement under wraps. You couldn’t bare risking your clean repute to be tainted by pestering Kim Seokjin for a collaboration with your favourite photographer. A smile finds their way on your lips before you open your mouth again. “I’m a very big fan,” you tell him. “His pictures are some of the best I’ve ever seen.”
“Really?” Seokjin asks you, lifting his wine glass to his lips and taking a momentary sip. “I never took you as the type to be engrossed in photography.”
“I am a model.” you laugh, using the same tone he had used with you prior.
“You got me there,” he jokes. “Johnny’s actually doing an interview for Aesthetica right now, but perhaps once he’s finished I can take you to meet him!”
“Are you willing to?” you ask him, unsure if he feels as if he’s forced to do so, or if he’s genuinely happy to let you meet his good friend. He nods, an authentic smile gracing his features, and you push back the will to grin in a cheerful manner of excitement, a small, thankful smile finding its way onto your face.
It takes all for you to keep that calm, serene beam on your face though, when you finally come face to face with one of your heroes. He stands tall, taller than you would have ever imagined a person to be, with long brown locks that sway in front of his face and square shoulders that slightly protrude forward due to endless nights of editing his own photos. A knit black sweater by Valentino curtains his body, fit beige trousers covering his endless legs and ending with polished black shoes that you can see your reflection in.
“Ah,” he says, clasping his hands together in excitement. “You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! I’ve seen you in many advertisements and fashion magazines - my husband is a very big fan!”
You are in heaven at the sound of your idol recognizing you, finally letting your excited grin show on your face as you consent to his kiss upon your knuckles. You had heard of John Suh being cheerful and pleasant through many accounts, you are aware of his philanthropic duties, constantly bringing awareness to the troubles around the world. Often does he donate the money that he’s cashed in from his projects to multiple charities - these moments seem to be the chit-chat that takes place around garden parties and other functions frequently. His husband, Chittaphon, who is known solely as Ten, is a prominent model of whom he had met during a shoot with Vogue. You remember their love story being placed on television, articles littered all over your social media; a charming model known for his playboy repute has fallen for a peaceful, relaxing photographer - their love story is something you could only dream about and desire as your own.
“I’m so excited to meet you,” you tell him, face red with enthusiasm. “I'm a very, very big fan of your works - I’ve always wished for us to collaborate.”
He lets out a deep laugh, hand resting on his stomach. “Actually, I’ve always tried to book an appointment with you, but your manager would only tell me of dates years into the future.”
Your jaw drops. “No way,” you let out a laugh. “I’ve been doing the same thing for you!”
The three of you, including Seokjin, converse like old college friends, quickly becoming close as you exchange laughs and slight quips; you and Johnny excitedly make plans for a shoot, promising to clear out the least important schedules in your itinerary. Wholly excited, you’ve got to owe everything to Seokjin, who was able to make this possible for you. As the event nears its end, people beginning to clear out of the warehouse, you find a new friend in Johnny, thankful for the opportunity to make acquaintance with him.
You leave briefly in the midst of the two men’s conversation about their college days to make rounds to the beverages, letting the server pour domaine de la romanée-conti into your wine glass, letting the heavenly liquid attack your taste buds and closing your eyes in delight. The knowledge of your mother not being present with you, having stayed behind in Seoul to run the reigns of the company building thusly not breathing down your neck to keep your eyes open for a potential future husband, is something equivalent to freedom. You listen to classical music playing softly along the gallery for a few seconds, Franz Schubert absorbing into your eardrums, before opening your eyes to find your way back to Johnny and Seokjin.
You only find yourself frozen when your eyes open to familiar ones staring back at you.
His hair is still an ash blond, styled much like the first time you saw him, a few loose strands escaping the net of hair gel and kissing the front of his forehead. His lips, which were pulled into a slight scowl when you had first seen them, had the slightest sight of a smirk, the corner of his lip raised faintly. He’s dressed in a fit, pressed, light grey suit by Ted Baker, Daniel Wellington watch peeking from his exposed wrist when he pulls his hand to his lips to sip from his veuve clicquot champagne. Yet, even with the details of his dress and face, you find your eyes stuck on one feature; his eyes. Never tearing from yours, his brown eyes hold an emotion that you cannot decipher.
It takes you a nanosecond to shake yourself out of your trance, averting your eyes away from his gaze as you pivot on your heel, making your way back through the gallery towards Seokjin and Johnny. You are unsure as to why Jaehyun is here, much like the first time you had seen him at your mother’s galal; you recall Irene talking about his personality and morals, he does not seem like the type to enjoy fine arts. A heat crawls up your neck upon realizing how you must have looked like a deer in headlights upon meeting his eyes, cursing at yourself for being so brash with your staring, feeling the heat cloud your cheeks when you realize he probably must have recognized you from the first time you had seen him - there is no way he will not recognize you now.
“There you are,” Johnny says, raising his glass when you return. “I was starting to think you had gotten lost. I was going to ask one of my guards to search for a short woman in lilac!”
You shake your head fervently, bubbling up a laugh that didn’t sound so nervous much to your favour. “No, no,” you smile, letting out a sigh in attempt to let go of what had just happened. “I just got distracted.”
You will yourself to catch up on the conversation that you had missed while you were stuck staring into the umber eyes of Jung Jaehyun, but it is all that you could think about, finding yourself falling quiet and finding interest in the way the wine in your glass swirls. The two men did not really notice as they were in deep conversation, and you did not mind. Hushed under your thoughts, their voices become familiar enough for you to decipher - until a new voice began to cut through a conversation.
“Brother,” a deep, booming baritone voice sounds, and you grip the stem of your wine glass with tension. You glance upwards, Jaehyun right in front of you now, hand on Johnny’s shoulder, whose entire body has gone stiff. His eyes are cast at Johnny, deftly avoiding yours. Brother?, you wonder. They are related? “Father called, he’s had a flight booked for the both of us back to Seoul tonight. We should get going now.”
“Jaehyun, it seems as if you do not understand that this is my exhibition,” Johnny turns to the slightly shorter man. He seems to visibly relax but his fist that hangs loose on his side is still clenched. “It will be rude of me to leave the guests that came to support me so early. You go on that flight. I can handle my own payments, I’ll catch the next flight out.”
Jaehyun huffed, his jaw clenching. From a distance, he was beautiful, but up close, he looks unreal; his lips much plumper and skin similar to porcelain, spotless. You look towards Seokjin, unsure of how to act, but even the confident, humorous man finds solace in staring into his wine glass. “These are father’s orders,” Jaehyun tells him, voice authoritative. “He wants us home by tonight.”
“And we will be,” Johnny says through a grit smile. “I’ll just be late. Please, Jaehyun; tonight is my night. Don’t let your family business ruin this for me as well.”
You are confused as you listen to them, still reeling from the information that you had uncovered that Johnny and Jaehyun are related to each other. Your family business, you repeat in your head. He words his sentence as if he was not a part of the family, and judging by his body language, it seems as if that is what he wishes. Your thoughts are interrupted when Jaehyun lets out a loud sigh, eyes dark as he glares at Johnny. He backs away without a word, before he pivots on his heel, and in a fleeting moment his eyes lock with yours; you suck in a breath as the nanosecond passes you by. His lips, this time, do not form into a smirk, but are pressed into a thin line. Withdrawing back into the crowd, he is the first to tear his eyes away.
“Sorry about him,” Johnny breathes after a few moments of silence, perching the glass of wine atop a table beside him. He reaches to scratch the back of his neck, grimacing. “My brother is not usually like that. It’s just... he’s stressed about the law firm.”
You nod, listening intently, hoping for Johnny to continue into a discussion about his relation to Jaehyun, wanting to know more about the Jung family, desiring answers to the questions that you have conjured in your brain, but he does not mention it again after that. As the night comes to a close, you have already eased up from the short moment you shared with the enigmatic man; as the night comes to a close, you find yourself exchanging numbers with Johnny, proving him to be a friend you will keep for a long time; as the night comes to a close, the dark, impenetrable eyes that lingers on your form is something you stay oblivious to.
-----
The heat of the Philippine sun beating into your skin is nothing short of pleasant, the scent of salt water lacing its way into your nostrils. The grains of sand that dig into your skin bears no competition to the softness of your carpeted bedroom floors back home You are in paradise; actually, you are in Cebu, Philippines, tanning underneath the blazing sun in Plantation Bay, which is most possibly the closest to paradise you will ever meet. It is after you and Irene had finished volunteering at a children’s center situated in the middle of Cebu City, finding solace in making friends with the children and helping them with whatever you could. Children have always been a soft spot for you, you absolutely adored them and were a natural with handling them, so you jumped at the chance to experience this when Irene father had brought it up in conversation with the both of you.
“There is a live band playing tonight at the Palermo restaurant,” says Irene, voice deafened by the loud crashing of the ocean waves in front of you as well as the clamorous yelling of children and other people staying in the resort around the pool area. “We should check it out. It’s been a while since I’ve heard music other than jazz and classical being played live.”
You nod, agreeing to her plans, before the two of you rest in peaceful silence once more, taking in the heat of the sun. You find yourself hours later, in the hotel room that the two of you shared, placing a Salina crop top by Reformation atop your Burberry printed bikini top, and high waisted denim shorts you had acquired from a fast fashion brand while scavenging through one of the malls. Placing some lip gloss and mascara on before ensuring that Irene was ready, the both of you eagerly leave to head to the ground floor, where the restaurant is situated.
As soon as you step foot into the restaurant, the air is filled with nothing but of music and the smell of savoury foods. You had acquired a taste for many of the dishes, finding it fitting to your tastes, so you were excited to have a full meal and enjoy some music that night. A band composed of four people stand atop a panel, jamming out to local music, people singing along joyfully, which makes you grin in delight. You do not know how to speak in Bisaya, knowing only a few short phrases here and there, but the tune is familiar to you, and so you hum along.
You and Irene sit in one of the tables on the elevated level of the restaurant, just a few more feet away from the band, enjoying a space that isn’t so crowded.
“Seokjin tells me that he took you to meet Johnny Suh at his photography exhibition in Bordeaux,” she mentions to you after the waitress had left with your orders. “Tell me, how did it feel meeting your hero?”
“It was amazing,” you giggled, recalling the feeling of meeting someone you had looked up to that happened just a mere few weeks ago. “We actually became good friends - we have our own group chat and everything. Tell Seokjin I said thank you, he’s such a kind man.”
Irene laughs, waving you off. “Anything else interesting that happened on that trip?” she asks. “Hooked up with any French boys? I heard that the hotel you stayed in proves to be a beautiful place to have sex.”
You roll your eyes at her as you take a sip of your water. “No, Irene, I did not bone anyone,” you tell her as she snickers. You suddenly recollect memories of meeting Jaehyun’s eyes; the mere thought sends jolts to run through your nerves. “However, Jaehyun was there.”
“Really?” Irene asks, wonder on her face, before she let out a gasp, bringing her hands to her cheeks as she grimaces. “Goodness, my apologies, I forgot to mention that Johnny and Jaehyun are half-brothers, how could I forget!” she seems to beat herself up momentarily but then calms. “Did anything happen with him?”
You gulp down the urge to tell her about his intense staring. “Not anything special,” you lie. “He and Johnny got into a heated discussion about going back to Seoul, something about their father needing them back at that very moment. However, Jaehyun left before it could get worse.“ Irene seems to relax in her seat as you play with one of the dining utensils placed in front of you. After a few moments of silence, you open your mouth. “Irene, tell me about the Jung family. I’m curious.”
Irene seems to be taken aback from your question but hums, recalling some facts that she may know of. “From what I know, Johnny is the child of Mr. Jung’s first wife, who had left him for one of their butlers. Jaehyun, and their youngest, Jaemin, are the sons of his second, and current, wife,” she pauses. “Apparently, Mr. Jung is still furious about his first wife leaving him, which is why he promised Jaehyun, his second son, the company, instead of Johnny.”
“Oh.” you whisper, heartstrings tugging at the sad story - spite causes people to make the most hurtful actions.
“Seokjin met Johnny in university, they’re very, very good friends,” Irene continues. “From what he’s told me, Johnny and Jaehyun have always had a strained relationship - he’s unsure why, really. I guess you can tell from the way Johnny still continues to bear his mother’s last name. Anyways, Seokjin told me that it was never Johnny’s dream to run a law firm, and when Mr. Jung appointed Jaehyun as the next chief executive officer, the hateful tension between them raised a little bit more.”
“Why?” you find yourself engrossed in the story, waiting for her to tell you more about the Jung family, but she shakes her head.
Irene sighs. “I’m afraid this is where my knowledge reaches its end,” she says, and you will yourself not to pout, relishing in the newfound information. “Why do you want to know about the Jung family so much, though? Don’t tell me you’ve taken an interest in Jaehyun, (Y/N); he’s devious, please remember that.”
You shake your head fervently, heat rising up your neck. “No! No, of course not,” you tell her, waving your arms in front of your face. “I was just curious as to why he was so snippy. It was quite rude, really, to see him talking down on his brother like that at his own exhibition.”
She hums in response, not quite believing your tale, but your orders arrive before she could say anything else. The two of you enjoy your meal and converse, talking up a storm like the two of you usually do whenever together. When you are halfway into your meal, the calamares fritos proving heavenly to your stomach, Irene stands from her chair with her purse, excusing herself to the bathroom. You nod, letting her go as you continue to eat your meal alone, instead, facing the screen of your phone. Woefully finishing your meal before Irene can return, you take this time to relish in the atmosphere. The music, now traded for a softer sound with velvety guitars and smooth bass, calms the environment, people around you had went from a jovial bellowing to conversing calmly in their circle groups. To your right is a panoramic window that is painted over with watercolour. You study each stroke as you rest your chin on top of your hand.
“Excuse me, miss,” the waitress’ hushed voice catches your attention, and you turn towards her. “Domaine de la romanée-conti, from the gentleman at the bar.”
You nod your head at her in thanks, curiously accepting the glass of wine. She sets it down on the table in front of you, and you are stumped. Domaine de la romanée-conti is your favourite, and although it was commonplace in many wine enthusiasts’ palates and collections, it was very expensive to purchase. You look around the restaurant, hoping to catch sight of whomever had, not only splurged their money on you, but had correctly guessed your favoured vin dus pays, eyes dashing around each individual until you land on a gaze that causes your breath to hitch.
His smirk is more distinctive now, even under the dim lights of the restaurant. His ash blond hair was not slicked back this time, instead swept aside on his forehead in messy layers. He is dashing even in casual attire, Commes des Garçons fit on his upper body, short sleeves revealing the veins that run through his muscular arms and tight black jeans that capture every curve of his thighs. The look was appalling to you, having grown used to seeing him clad in nothing but expensive suits - but even when you bite back the gasp from seeing him in the area, your eyes are still locked on his.
He grabs the glass that he had situated in front of him, filled with veuve clicquot, before standing up from his chair and approaching you. Your eyes never leave his; you still cannot pinpoint the emotions stirring inside them, even when he takes his seat in front of you.
“It’s funny that we see each other so often, but we still have yet to introduce ourselves to each other,” he starts, the voice you had heard almost booming at Johnny’s exhibition a few weeks ago is at a much gentler tone now. He reaches his hand over the table, expecting you to grab it. “My name is Jung Jaehyun, of Jung & Associates.”
You stare at his hand for a few seconds, not knowing whether you should accept it or not. You interrogate yourself in your thoughts, recalling Irene several warnings; but his gaze is far too intense for you to reject it - and even then, you do not wish for sour feelings between the both of you; even if Jaehyun’s moral compass was wrong, you know Decoré would be ruined the day you decide to act antagonistic towards him. You reach your hand over the table as well, taking his and shaking it lightly, memorizing the smoothness of his hands.
“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Decoré,” your voice is kind, sending him a smile. You remember the time you had given Wong Lucas the same tone and face when he thought he could have a chance with you; it’s almost deja vu when you send it towards Jaehyun - almost. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jaehyun.”
“Same to you,” he begins, a charming smile on his face. He has dimples, and you gulp as your breathing begins to falter. “I know that we met at my older brother, Johnny’s, exhibition, and I just wanted to clear up any misunderstandings you might have from my character that night. I’m sure we can try again, right? A friend of Johnny’s is a friend of mines.”
You press your lips into a thin line; when he’s dressed in casual attire, he takes the appearance of a casual, everyday boy, someone you might have met in college, someone in a different social class - someone authentic and normal, yet he still has the same intensity that he holds in suits worth millions by Hemsworth, even in comfortable clothing. “Of course we can,” you tell him, to which he relaxes, a wider grin displaying on his face and urging the dimple on his cheeks to form deeper. “Thank you for the domaine de la romanée-cont, by the way, it’s my favourite.”
“Just a lucky guess,” Jaehyun smiles at you. “I remember that was the drink you held both times we came across each other.”
You ignore the feeling of your heart slightly skipping a beat, gulping down a sip of the wine down your throat; Irene’s voice is booming within your head now. “You have a very good memory, Jaehyun.” you say, taking a sip of the sauvignon, the familiar taste flooding your tastebuds.
“Just the important things,” he says, chuckling to himself as he takes a sip of his champagne. “So, what brings you to the island of Cebu?”
He talks to you so casually, but his eyes drip with intention, staring into your own eyes and unending; it was as if he was mocking you - mocking the lack of power you had compared to him. “My friend, Irene, and I volunteered at an orphanage in Cebu City,” you tell him, setting the glass of wine down in front of you. “What about you, Jaehyun? Are you following me?”
Your eyes widen when you hear the words fall past your own lips, bringing a hand to your mouth in shock as you yell blasphemous words inside your head. You watch his face, waiting for his reaction to your rudeness, but he just lets out a lighthearted laugh, eyes forming into crescents as he bellows out whimsical notes. “I’m actually here for a business venture,” he tells you after his laughter calms down. “But perhaps I should be the one asking that question, hm, (Y/N)?”
His voice is teasing, a smirk playing on his lips; you swallow your words instead trading them for nervous giggles. “Maybe we just have the same mind, and similar thoughts.” you tell him, adding a small smile at the end of your sentence, looking directly into his eyes. He raises his eyebrows for a nanosecond, as if an expression of surprise took over his face, before he lets out a deep chuckle.
“I hope so,” he says with a simper, voice slightly deafened from the sounds of guitars and basses reverberating off the walls of Palermo. Just as you open your mouth reply, his phone emits a loud ringtone from his pocket, causing him to tear his eyes off of you. He digs for his phone from his jeans pocket, glancing at his screen and seeing his face fall for a split second before he stands up. “I’m afraid our conversation might have to end early. It was nice seeing you here, (Y/N). I hope we can meet again soon.”
You ignore the slight disappointment emerging from the bottom of your throat, taking in a deep breath. “The same to you, Jung Jaehyun,” your voice is hushed. He nods once, smile bright but brown eyes concentrated, a juxtapositioned expression. His action is delayed, eyes lingering on your for one more second, before he pivots on his heel and marches towards the doors of the restaurant. After watching his retreating figure through the glass doors walk around the corner, you let out a sigh of relief, looking down at the glass of wine he had purchased for you, the liquid now sitting near the bottom. You question yourself on the emotions you felt while conversing with him, chalking it up as a side-effect of constant travelling and having no sleep.
“Hey, sorry, I’m back, Seokjin called,” your best friend finally reappears, taking her seat in the seats Jaehyun had been in just a few mere seconds ago. Before she turns to hang the sling of her purse on the backrest of the chair, she notices your half-drunk wine glass and eyes you with sharpened eyes. “Started drinking without me, hm?” she quips.
You simply just let out a laugh, fingers twirling the stem of the wine glass as you avoid Irene’s gaze, terrified of her knowing, because you cannot form words. Not when the only image that lingers in your mind is the enigma of Jung Jaehyun’s breathtaking, umber eyes burning into yours.
-----
If you had to pinpoint out the few days you dreadfully loath in a year, you would pick the days Fashion Week is active.
It is not that you dislike Milan; it is an alluring, beautiful, celebrated city, with copious choices of museums such as the Sforzesco Castle, architecture and cobblestone roads rather gothic yet stunningly vibrant and electrifying, and how could you possibly forget the beautiful view of the Navigli and Darsena districts when the lanterns are lit the moment the stars come out, the sight alone bringing back memories of European romance movies and dialogue to begin playing in your mind. It is a beautiful, wonderful city - but just the name being simply uttered, along with New York, Paris, and London, brings flashbacks that you would rather avert.
The warmth of the sunlight spilling through the crème curtains would usually leave you energized and ready for the oncoming day, yet, somehow, it only puts a kink in your attitude as you groan dismally, longing for just a few more hours of sleep. Perhaps it was your alarm tone whose snooze button you kept missing everytime you would reach for the device, the obnoxious tone emitting constantly, or perhaps it was the horde of screaming stylists and the feeling of your manager pulling your legs out of bed, but you couldn’t bare to close your eyes again and instead of the smile you often wear on your risen face, a slight scowl plays on your lips. Sitting up on your plush mattress with knotted muscles, your stylists have already begun to pull you out of bed, along with your cries of lament. You had barely even rubbed your eyes to rid of the rheum that lined your eyelashes from your few hours of sleep before they had forced you down in a makeup chair, pressuring you to look at yourself in a circular mirror lined with LED lights.
Oh, how horrid, you thought.
This years theme was Bridal, much to your mother’s dismay - she had believed in an old superstition that wearing a wedding dress before you even have the chance to get married only brings bad luck in your love life; but after she had seen the paycheck that would be wired into her account after you walk down the runway, her mind seemed to forget about the superstition altogether. You eyed the several pimples that had found their way onto your forehead in scrutiny, knowing that the makeup artist will most likely opt for a lighter look to fit the theme.
“Don’t worry, the pieces you will be wearing will take the attention away from your newfound friends.” a teasing, familiar voice makes their way into your ears as you feel two hands resting on your shoulders. You perk up at the voice and look past your reflection to see Johnny’s friendly face, grinning ear to ear as he laughs at his own joke. Rolling your eyes, you lightly slap his hand on your right shoulder, cracking your first smile of the day.
“I didn’t know you were coming, Johnny!” you exclaimed, turning around to face him. He was clad in a Raf Simmons cropped sweater with black trousers by Helmut Lang, the sense of casual attire yet the prices of the simple looking fabrics were more than ostentatious. He ruffles your unstyled hair with a mischievous grin. You and Johnny have grown closer in the months since the two of you met, constantly texting each other back and forth; it has gotten to the point where you consider him a best friend, right beside Irene. “You should have texted me!”
“That would have ruined the surprise!” Johnny laughs, walking towards the table in front of you and leaning against a spot where makeup wasn’t littered everywhere. As the makeup artist begins their work on your face, laying and spreading out tones of beige and browns and the slightest hints of pink, you and Johnny converse naturally.
“So are you the only one that came?” you ask as you watch the makeup artist brush the slightest of coral toned blush onto the apples of your cheek; you’re unsure if it is Johnny’s presence that helped you become fully awake or if it’s due to the work of the artist, but you are positively impressed with how you look so far.
“No,” Johnny pauses while he digs through one of the bags of makeup opened on the desk. You had solicited constantly to meet Johnny’s husband, Ten, only ever hearing about him through Johnny’s own words and stories - you wanted to meet him, especially since you had heard he was a big fan of yours. You gasp in surprise at his answer, joy setting down on your shoulders when you realize you might be finally meeting your friend’s lover, but it is swept from underneath you in just milliseconds. “I brought Jaehyun with me.”
“Jaehyun?” you repeat after a few beats, to which he nods.
“Yep, you know, my brother,” Johnny says, an unknowing smile gracing his features when he glances at you. “He had actually told me that the two of you bumped into each other in the Philippines; he wanted to come to fashion week to support you.”
“Oh…” you respond, trailing off. “Well, that’s very nice of him.”
“It is,” Johnny confirms, returning the nude lipstick by MAC back into the unzipped bag before digging around again. “It’s quite peculiar, really. Ever since father appointed the chair to Jaehyun, he’s been… quite antagonistic towards me, but ever since his trip to the Philippines, he’s been… alright. Perhaps the merger with PunoLaw went splendidly.”
You ignore the flip that your heart makes in your chest while the makeup artist sweeps streaks of highlight upon your cheekbones; there could be a number of reasons why Jaehyun’s temperament had gotten better - a simple exchange of greeting and a purchased drink of wine means nothing in a business trip to a foreign country.
“Johnny,” you starts off, and he hums in response. “You don’t have to answer, but… have the both of you always had bad blood?”
“I’m sure as someone next in line for the CEO of a company, you have obligations, right?” Johnny lets out a soft sigh, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he patently probes his mind for the correct words. He sets down the lipstick tube that he had been toying with and looks straight at you, a serious expression on his face. “Well… Jaehyun deals with these… obligations... differently. He’s always been a rambunctious man. He grew up thinking that the company would be passed down to me, so he didn’t care much for his own image - so when the news came out that he would be leading Jung & Associates in the future, he just… lashed out, he became slightly more antagonistic to everyone around him. He was never trained for that position, and he still doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Johnny pauses. “He’s just afraid.”
“Ah…” you hum after a short pause, your voice hanging in the air. As next in line for the executive position for Decoré, you are responsible in retaining your clean reputation; you were to be immaculate with your choices, you were expected to stay absolute and virtuous, they wished for you to hold a record that is the epitome of every parent’s wet dream. The constant demanding of these obligations, as well as the constant invariable conversations of marriage and children from your mother, takes a toll on your own wellness daily; you can never say what you truly want to say, you can never do what you truly want to do. You can never underestimate the press when they hone into your every action, words, glances and body language forged into the world with printed ink and a mass of pixels. One slip of character, and it could mean the end of the empire that your great-great grandmother had established. As you stare into the mirror, hairstylist taking over as they brush your hair with a flat comb, you think to yourself; perhaps Jung Jaehyun is just misjudged, perhaps his true reasons for his actions may not be what the media observes. Irene was not the sole heiress to her family’s fashion institute, so she does not know of the demanding expectations that comes forth with preparing for an established company to be in your hands; perhaps she heard of idle conversations of those envious and took their words of spite as gospel.
As time passes, you quickly come to when find yourself lined up backstage along with other models walking the catwalk. The show had just started, the piercing sound of classical piano music blaring through the speakers deafening to your ears as stylists make last minute touch ups on your makeup and dress. You are adorned in a beautiful metallic white dress by Valentino; the top made entirely of chiffon, with a low cut neckline, diamonds formed to cover your chest area. The skirt, made of tulle fabric, is decorated with strewn diamonds, every move you make sending each jewel to swing, making it look as if you had just bathed in a pool of gems. The billowy sleeves are also strewn with diamonds, you can already see the brilliant reflections of light against the harsh LED bulbs above.
Your hair is pulled back into a braided low bun, your veil, attached to the bottom of your bun, trails behind you for meters, acting like a cape.; you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you draw closer towards the front of the line. You suck in a deep breath; you’ve walked countless runways in the past, it’s like a fluent language to you - straight back, intense eyes, just an inkling of attitude - yet, your mind seems to be in a haze, and you can comprehend exactly why. As the last model before you makes her way back behind the stage, you close your eyes momentarily, letting out a puff of hair, before setting off through the doors.
Your fists relax, hands swaying by your side as the bright lights pointed towards the catwalk causes your dress to glimmer in ways you would only predict ever seeing in fantasy movies. You keep your face monotonous, taking in the audience’s gasps of delight and pleasure at the sight of your dress, the familiar sounds of cameras clicking over and over again proving louder than the booming violins blaring through the speakers. Your lips are flat, and expression featureless as you make your way to the very front of the catwalk - this is the dress’s show, and not yours. You see Johnny in the audience, camera in hand as he takes a few shots of your walk, but it is the man beside him that causes your eyes to slightly widen.
He looks far too beautiful, as if he should be the one walking the runway. His ash blonde hair is slicked back but in the way as if he had forked his dry fingers through his locks rather than wet with gel. He is dressed in a suit made of crushed velvet, also by Valentino, trousers highlighting the curves of his thighs, a pure black button up shirt underneath his velvet blazer. The people seated around him were focused on observing him and attempting to catch his attention rather than to give their attention to the piece that you displayed for them; but he - not paying one glance to your gown, not one glimpse to the veil that flowed behind you, not even regarding the rude chatter emitting around him sparked by his presence - keeps his eyes gazing into yours.
The feeling alone is enough to make you lose your breath, the sight of his deep, teasing eyes causing you to open your mouth slightly, urging you losing track of where you were supposed to be. But just as your lips lightly part, you force them closed in panic of feeling your muscles twitch at the movement; you watch as an amused smile plays his lips, before he crosses his arms over his chest. You tear your eyes away from his, pivoting on your heel as you make your way to the back behind the stage - but even through the chiffon fabric of your veil, you can feel the all-too familiar feeling of Jung Jaehyun’s eyes lingering on your form.
The after party is far too congested to your liking, and even though the air was rich with air conditioning, your skin feels moist to the touch after having to weave your way through hordes of people dancing and chatting with each other. You had traded in the wedding dress that you wore for a shorter light pink chiffon dress by Valentino that ended right before your knees, your feet are already sore from the heels that you’ve been wearing the entire day. You wonder if Johnny might be present at this party too, but you aren’t sure if you’re willing to weave deeper into the venue through more crowds nor are you sure if your feet have enough vitality for a couple more steps.
“Leaving early?” a distinctive voice causes you to halt before you can walk through the exit. You turn your head, ready to face impact before facing Jaehyun. He has a small smile on his face, cradling a coca-cola can in his hand. “If so, can I leave with? I lost Johnny in the crowd.”
A smile appears on your lips. “Johnny is over six feet tall, I find it hard to believe that you lost him, Jung Jaehyun,” you tell him, quirking your eyebrow, to which he lets out a chuckle, glancing down at his coca-cola. “But yes, you may join.”
The next few minutes are a flurry of exchanges with the guards at the door and retrieving your coats from the lobby. As you walk through the exit doorways, you can only sigh in content when the cool, December breeze kisses the clammy skin of your neck, sweat accumulated from the overcrowded afterparty. It is twelve at midnight, and the streets house only a few people walking up and down the cobblestone roads. You’re glad that your manager had packed a pair of Tory Burch flats for you in your purse, your heels finally getting the rest they need as you turn towards the direction of your hotel, but the reminder in the form of a person speaks before you could hobble off.
“How long will you be staying in Milan?” Jaehyun finds a pace in walking beside you, hands shoved into the deep pockets of his black Burberry trench coat. You take your arms and pull the front lapels of your tweed coat by Gucci.
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning,” you tell him, looking at the streets in front of you. The stars were on display in the night sky, and lamps have lit up, dimly illuminating the roads. You can feel the heat radiating off of Jaehyun as he listens intently to you; your stomach flips with an emotion that you cannot decipher. “Mother wants me back in Seoul before she begins clearing the pieces for her collection releases by Spring. And you?”
“I’ll be here until Tuesday,” he says, in a tone of dread, the both of you slowing down your walking pace. “Jung & Associates are establishing a branch here, I’ll just be doing the finalizations - then I’ll be back in Seoul.”
You look at him in surprise. “Really?” you question. “How interesting.”
“Perhaps we’ll bump into each other again on the streets of Myeong-dong.” he grins, kilowatt smile spreading across his face causing his dimples to form on his cheeks. You eye them before looking away, feeling your cheeks begin to heat up - you still had to be careful around him, you are unsure as to what his true character is really like.
You let out a hum. “You know what, Jung Jaehyun?” you start off in a hesitant teasing tone, unsure of how to interact with him; you didn’t want to accidentally set him off, in case Irene was actually correct with her hypothesis, however, you weren’t sure if Johnny was telling the truth either, details far too vague for your liking. “I’m starting to think you’re actually following me.”
He lets out an amused puff of air as the two of you round a corner, the Navigli canal coming into view, lit up by the streetlamps that litter beside it; it was breathtaking scenery, it never fails to cause your heartbeat to quicken whenever you catch sight of it - everything about the view is romantic. He walks towards the body of water, strolling to the concrete railing. He halts, growing silent, eyes fixated on the number of stars illuminating the night sky. Even through all the dim light posts, you are still able to see the glimmering spots shining outside of the Earth’s atmosphere. You watch the back of Jaehyun’s head as he shoves his hands inside the pockets of his coat. Hesitantly, you approach him, coming to a pause beside him just as you see the profile of his face; his eyes are trained solely on the stars, the ghost of a smile teasing his lips. Turning your head to look at the stars with him, the both of you stay in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.
“Sometimes,” you’re the first to break the silence, eyes still training on the stars. “Whenever I stroll past this canal, I envision those classic movies filmed in Europe; a confession of love near the body of water, a kiss in the rain surrounded by romantic architecture.”
You are unsure as to why those are the first words that fall past your lips, but you let out a dreamy sigh, scenes of Audrey Hepburn to Marilyn Monroe, recollecting portrayals of old-school love play in your mind. Jaehyun looks away from the sky, switching his gaze towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“You yearn for love?” he questions you, and you giggle softly, crossing your arms over your chest as a chilling breeze kisses your neck.
“Doesn’t everyone?” you question him, eyes trailing along the gothic architecture of the streets of Milan. “I’ve dreamt of it since I was a little girl, but everyday, it seems as if my chance at finding it grows more impossible.”
Jaehyun is silent for a few seconds, you can still feel his eyes lingering on your face. “And what if you’ve already found your love?”
You gulp, biting down on your bottom lip. Your eyes cast downwards towards the body of water before you open your mouth. You aren’t sure why, but your heartbeat bangs against your chest painfully, and your ears are heating up despite the fact that the air is chilly. You let out a sigh, fog of condensation escaping your lips. “I mustn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because my mother will defy the man I choose,” you pause, a pitiful smile finding its way onto your face. “I know that I will be forced to marry someone from her inner circle to ensure Decoré’s future. I don’t have a choice in this matter anyway,” you let out a chuckle before turning to him, his eyes training on yours. “The position comes with disadvantages, and it makes me rethink my options even though I’ve ached to lead Decoré all my life.”
“But that does not mean you shouldn’t live,” he trails off. “Just because your life is led by responsibility… doesn’t mean you should avoid love.”
“There’s no other way, Jaehyun,” you tell him. You extract your hands from deep within the pockets of your tweed coat and press your palms again the concrete railing before you form them into fists. “I’m sure that you understand as well, your company is being handed down to you - you have an image to uphold, right?”
He grows silent. “Yes, I do.”
“Love is a risk that I’d rather not make.” you say. You have dated in the past, once in middle school, with a boy named Jeon Jungkook, a short relationship that lasted for only three days, and your first year in college, with a boy named Kim Mingyu, which lasted deftly for eight months - both relationships, of which, weren’t serious at all. Kim Mingyu was your first kiss, and first time; you remember the crushing disappointment at the lack of sparks that flew between the both of you each time your bodies were pressed against each other. Additionally, your name has been caught in multiple articles since the beginning of forging your model career that articulated dating rumours with you and innumerable celebrities and other of the elite class, all of which had been false. The feedback that you received during those times were immensely painful for you, and you worked hard to keep your reputation clear since then.
“But life, itself, is a risk. Is it not?” Jaehyun’s voice is hushed, but his eyes are not directed towards you, instead training on the Gothic buildings situated opposite from where you are standing, on the other side of the canal. You press your lips into a straight line, furrowing your eyebrows together as you think of his sentence, not knowing how to reply.
As you open your mouth to finally answer, a familiar tone emits through the air. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and grabs his vibrating phone, letting out a sigh when his eyes land on the screen of his phone. Turning to you, he outstretches a hand towards you for you to shake, a gracious smile on his face, dimples in full view, but his eyes are still dull. You take your hand and enclose your fingers around his, deja-vu as you memorize the warmth of his skin around your cold hands, before weakly shaking his fist.
“I have to go,” Jaehyun says, putting his phone back into his pocket, not accepting the call. You find that peculiar, but it is not your business, so you do not press. “I’ll see you when I get back to Seoul?”
You smile at him, nodding your head. “Yes,” you tell him. “I’ll see you then.”
And as you turn to part ways, he lingers his gaze on you only for a second more, before pivoting on his heel. Just outside the doors of your hotel that you stayed in while in Milan, the only image that clouds your mind is of the last gaze that he had given you, almost certain that he held longing in his pupils, and as you think of the lasting image that haunts your brain, you are reminded of your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, this time, accompanied with the slight excitement that rises in the pit of your stomach.
-----
The cool, frigid, January air laces into the studio, entirely made of hard concrete, excluding the various set pieces spread around the area. You lay on top of a long, woven seat, bare legs, hair standing up in defense of the chilly breeze, hanging off the side of the arm rest. You are draped in only an oversized, pure-white shirt, the fabric blanketing your sighs and sleeves barely able to hang onto your shoulder; clickings of camera ensue, underneath the humming bass of the Frank Ocean song blaring through the speakers. Today was the day you had finally scheduled your photoshoot with Johnny, eager for the outcome as you let your head slightly hand from the other side of the woven seat.
“Point your chin just a bit upwards, (Y/N),” Johnny tells you from off the set. Johnny uses a particular method of photography, using natural lighting from outside to create an authentic ambience in his photos - the only window in the studio was a large, panoramic one that had the most beautiful view of the garden. His studio is located on the Jung premises, in its own little estate behind the main house; when you had walked through the main gates you had felt completely intimidated by the domineering aura of the house, much larger than your own - it took up nearly two football fields, and it was then when you realized how powerful this family really is. “Okay, there, perfect!”
The humming of the bass of songs emitting from Johnny’s playlist as well as the clicks of his film camera are the only sounds that emit between the both of you as you try out different poses, boudoir poses come naturally to you. Johnny had given you one of his own shirts to use as clothing, the oversized fabric hanging off you loosely. A break ensues halfway through the shoot, at five p.m., almost three hours since you had begun posing. The sun has already set an hour ago, winter nights a longer span than winter mornings, and you desperately had the urge to pee, having downed an entire bottle of water before the shoot due to your adrenaline.
“Hey, Johnny?” you ask while he reviews his photos. He looks up towards you in curiosity, letting out a hum of acknowledgement. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Oh,” he says, setting his camera down before he begins to use charades as a way to give you the directions. “Down the hall, on the third left, fifth door on the right side. If you want, the lower bathroom is a lot more cleaner.”
“No, it’s alright,” you let out a laugh, before walking out of the studio. When one would say the Jung Estate was big; it was big. Multiple hallways and multiple doors make up the interior of the estate, and it wasn’t even the main house on the Jung premises - this estate was only slightly smaller in size compared to the large castle-like structure that stood before the front gates. It seemed a little silly to you - who needs this many rooms? You were almost sure that Johnny and Ten, who you finally had the fortunate chance of meeting earlier that afternoon, were the only two who resided in this house - yet it’s so vastly empty, not even one inkling of a server or butler.
You follow the directions that Johnny had given you just a few minutes ago to no attempt because before you know it, you are lost in a daze of paintings and golden decals. He said third right, right?, you thought to yourself as you look around. You weren’t even sure which direction your had come from, the diminishing sunlight from outside beginning to darken the hallways. You let out a sigh as you take a chance, figuring that if you were wrong anyways, you’d just be greeted to an empty room and you’d have to force your bladder to not erupt for a few more minutes until you’d finally find the bathroom. You push a large, mahogany door open, the creaking reverberating off the marble walls of the hallway, and then you pause.
“Jesus, Johnny, can’t you knock?” his voice seems aggravated while he’s hunched over a desk, face buried into a stack of paper. “I told you, I’m doing paperwork right now. I’m b-”
His eyes automatically widen when he looks up towards the door, eyes snapping to yours. A plane of glass covers his eyes, entwined with a golden frame as they perch neatly on his nose, ash blonde hair in messy ruffles, obviously having had his fingers run through them numerous times throughout the night. He wears a simple, basic, white button up shirt, with simple black trouser bottoms, the most casual attire you have ever seen him wear; yet, he still looked stunning. However, his eyes are boring right at you, the pen in his hand freezing from writing letters as his pupils begin to slowly move down your body.
“Jaehyun,” you finally let out a breath, stammering as you slowly back away from the doorway. “Sorry, oh my gosh, I’m doing a shoot with Johnny right now and I was trying to find the bathroom… um, I got lost.”
His jaw visibly clenches and you see his adam’s apple bob against his throat before standing up and lightly swipes his hands on his thighs. “Don’t worry about it, I just got taken aback.” he gulps, as he begins to walk towards you, adjusting the glasses that perch on his nose. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”
Your face immediately flushes, eyes, if not already at their widest, widen even more as you let out a gasp. You have never felt a fabric of clothing cause your stomach to explode in your life, yet, for some reason, that was the only feeling you could muster as you feel the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt brush against your thighs. “I’m sorry,” you apologize once more, letting out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t know this was your shirt. Johnny said it was his.”
He lets out an amused puff of air. “The nerve of that man, he still continues to steal my clothing for props,” he shakes his head, tsking. “Here, I can show you where the bathroom is - this house has so many unneeded rooms, it’s silly.”
You follow him through the corridors; the sun had already set completely, the moon now shining above that casts into the hallways through the lined windows. The sound of Jaehyun’s shoes swiping against the floor and the dull sounds of the pads of your feet hitting the marble flooring is the only noise heard in the air between you both, your face still sprinkled with hues of red from the feeling of the hem of Jaehyun’s shirt brushing past your thighs. He walks you into the other hall across from where you had opened the door to his room, and stops right in front of a door similar to the ones around it.
“Here you are,” he says, pivoting on his heel and pushing the door to the bathroom open, the door creaks as it slightly cracks ajar. You let out a sigh of relief, grinning at him. “You just turned the wrong way, but fortunately you found me, or else you’d probably still be lost in the hallways.”
“Thank you, Jaehyun.” you tell him graciously, pulling the front of the shirt you are wearing to make sure that your sleeves don’t slip past your shoulders and show them bare. He gives you a silent nod before he begins to walk back to his study room, but you gasp and grab his hand, slightly pulling him back, to which he freezes, turning towards you.
“What is it?” he asks you, eyebrows furrowed in concern. You are only thankful that the hallways are dim, you can practically feel the heat of your cheeks radiating off your skin.
“S-Sorry,” you stammer; you seem to be apologizing to Jaehyun repeatedly that night.“I didn’t mean to touch you - that was really rude of me. It’s just… can you wait? Um, I don’t know how to get back to the studio and it’s… really dark, and the hallways are slightly creepy.”
His worry sets on his face for only a second longer before his lips form into a small smile, eyes forming into slight crescents as he nods. “Of course,” he says. He rests his back against the wall beside the door to the bathroom. “I’ll be right here.”
You give him a grateful smile before walking into the doors of the bathroom - you first catch yourself in the mirror, face a deep shade of red as you inwardly cringe at how fast the boy had taken you off guard. Slapping your hands on your cheeks in an attempt to calm your heartbeat panging against your ribcage, you let out a few gasps of air. Washing your hands before opening the door again, you only will yourself to keep your stance calm and cool around Jaehyun, but you know that will all crash to the floor the moment you turn the doorknob.
When you step out, you see that Jaehyun is still waiting beside the door, his back pressed against the wall as his thumbs swipe at the screen of his phone. At the crack of light that emitted from within the bathroom, he finally looks up at you with a smile, turning the screen of his phone off with a click and standing upright. You are unsure of what to say, words seem to be caught stuck in your throat every time you look at him.
“I can walk you to Johnny’s studio,” he lets out a laugh as he shoves his phone into the pocket of his trousers before he runs his hands through his hair, ash blonde locks falling onto his forehead one by one. “I never thought you’d be the type to be afraid of the dark, (Y/N).”
Again, you are unsure of what to say, only letting a giggle fall past your lips in response. Fortuitously, your stomach seems to be dashing around in circles as you watch his eyes trained on yours, shadows of the corridor darkening the edges of his face and the pale moonlight from outside causing his cheekbones to come out even more angular. His eyes are darker than ever, as he watches you, and even though it is dim, you are almost sure the corner of his lips twitch upright. Your breath hitches in your throat and in blushing panic, and so you twirl around, hoping for him to simply catch on and lead you back towards the studio - but his booming, baritone voice, much like the first time you had heard him speak at Johnny’s exhibition in October, causes your step to falter.
“Are you going to do something with the way you look at me?”
It’s ironic how the weight of a few words can change the entire dynamic of an established acquaintanceship; merely a pin dropping on the ground and detonating into flames to burn down the walls that had already been put up, built with blocks composed with intimidated hesitance and lethal attraction. The inflection of his voice weaved through the air like a ribbon made of silk before devouring your nerves, sending jolts through your body in ripples, breath becoming hitched in your throat as an all too familiar emotion that you’ve been forcing to push down, that you’ve coaxed yourself into feeling mystified about, begins to rise in the pit of your stomach. His words echo through the long, dark corridors before they come to a halt, silence seducing the air between your bodies, but you stay frozen, and your lips stay unmoving. You hear him step closer, the heel of his shoes slightly clicking against the marble flooring, and it sends waves through your body again.
“(Y/N).” his voice is low, stern, the same voice you had heard the night you had heard him speak at Johnny’s photography exhibition.
Your breath shakes when you finally part your lips. “Yes, Jaehyun?” you stammer.
“Answer my question.” he whispers. He stands close, you can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric that drapes your body. The tension that dances between the both of you is thick, emotions of both excitement and yearning burning in your chest. You feel his breath on the back of your neck, and it urges you to squeeze your thighs together to combat the aching need between your legs.
“I should be the one asking you that, Jung Jaehyun, since you practically fuck me with your eyes every time we meet.” the tone of your voice is surprising to you when it falls past your lips, your hand snapping to your mouth as you widen your eyes - you hear him chuckle lightly behind you just seconds before you feel the pads of his fingers dance on the back of your neck, gently moving your hair onto one shoulder.
“I didn’t know you were capable of speaking like that,” his voice juxtaposes his actions, laced with intent. He presses his warm hands against the white fabric on your collarbone before he slides it down to bare your shoulder, the cool air of the corridors causing your thin hairs to stand up. “Always so polite and careful, I wanna know what other noises fall past those pretty lips of yours.”
He roughly turns you around, as if a switch were flipped inside him - it’s only now when you have taken in how tall he was, even if he were slightly shorter than Johnny, his physique was large compared to yours, and that excites you. His umber eyes penetrated yours as he takes his glasses off and sets them on the top of his head before he uses his forefinger and thumb to force you to look at him, proud smirk playing on his lips. His domineering attitude, and your want for challenge - they both crash together like fire, flames licking at each other to create even larger chaos. As you gaze into his eyes, breath rattling your ribcage, you are finally able to discern the emotion that swam within his pupils, an emotion that had befuddled you since the first time your eyes landed on his. Desire.
“You make me go so fucking crazy,” he whispers before his lips dart to your neck, peppering wet kisses along your jawline. You let out a gasp when he nips at the skin of your neck, the ache in your panties growing stronger every time his tongue flicks out to soothe a spot. He cradles your cheek in his hand as your lean your head back to give him more space, yearning for his touch. You feel the warmth of his hand he had used to cradle your cheek cascading down your body roughly, hovering over your breasts as he continues to lap at your neck. “God, ever since the first time I saw you, the things I’ve been thinking about doing to you - and now here you are standing in one of my shirts, and, fuck.”
You buck your hips, cupping his cheeks as you push him away from your neck to force him to look back into your eyes - his eyes, sharp, cuts into yours, the meager sight causing an aching throb to pulsate through you once more. “Tell me the things you’ve thought about doing to me,” you whisper, tracing your thumb over the plumpness of his bottom lip, you bring him closer to your face - you feel his hot breath on your lips. “Tell me, and then do them to me.”
A sigh escaped his lips before they finally come to meet yours, enveloping yours against his own in a flurry of desperation - you hadn’t realized how much you hungered for this moment until the feeling of felicity settled within you, your longing moan dancing into his mouth. Perhaps it was his own desperation too that had been building up for months leading up to this moment, perhaps it was the sound that escaped from deep within your lungs that excited him, but his hands rush to cup your sopping panties causes a gasp to escape from your mouth. “I’ve imagined you like this,” his voice is a whisper when you pull away at the sensation of his fingers pressing against your clothed pussy. “Whimpering for me, begging for me, trying to keep yourself quiet.”
Short gasps escape from you as he continues to work against the thin fabric, adding more and more pressure as he moves his hands in circular motions. “J-Jaehyun,” you moan, trying your best to keep yourself quiet. You don’t want your whimpers to travel down the hallway and possibly lace into Johnny’s ears - the act would be mortifying to you. “What if Johnny sees us?”
“I don’t give a damn,” he grunts, hand roughly toying with your clothed clit. Your hips buck against his hand, and if it weren’t for how needy you felt, letting this man have his way with you, you’d be ashamed at how wet you’ve already become, soaking through your panties. Slowly, he moves them to the side before he glides a finger along your bare entrance; sensitive already, you shudder. “Fuck, look at you, so fucking wet and ready. You want me that bad, (Y/N)?”
You sink your lips into your bottom lip, looking into his eyes through your eyelashes. Your face is hot, blushing as his tongue flicks out from between his lips to lick them. He continues to glide his long finger against you, eyes boring into yours as he does, watching as every expression of eagerness flashes across your features. His forefinger mockingly dips into your entrance for a fleeting moment, the sensation of him inside you one second and gone the next causing you to mewl out in frustration. He lets out a dark chuckle as you furrow your eyebrows, willing yourself to keep it together.
“I asked you a question, darling.” he mumbled darkly, dipping the tip of his forefinger inside of your sopping heat once again. “Answer my question and you’ll get your prize.”
“Yes, Jaehyun,” you bite back your moan when he dips his finger inside you again, taunting you. Your breathing becomes heavy with every dip he makes, aching for him to do something about the need inside of you, bucking your hips against his hand, soaked with your juices. “I want you so bad, I want you so fucking bad. Please, Jaehyun, fuck, please.”
He lets out a dark chuckle beside your ear before he plunges the fullness of his forefinger inside of you, a gasp escaping you at the sudden entrance. He pumps the single finger in and out of you with ease, spreading your legs wider with his knee; he has large hands with long, slender fingers, the sensation of just one doesn’t meet your fancy, but it’s enough to relieve the itch that had begun to build inside of you. “Fuck!”
“So fucking tight,” he grunts, watching your face contort into pleasured expressions, condescending smirk turning into an enchanted one, lips parting and eyebrows turning upward. He adds his middle finger, spreading your pussy wider as he begins to pick up the pace of his thrusting, arm flexing as the moonlight hits the veins that decorate along his forearms. “Shit, (Y/N), has your tight cunt been fucked before?”
All you could muster out was a whine as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, your mind nothing but a fog of haze while he reaches deeper and deeper into your core, as if he were planning to leave his mark inside of you. You had been fucked before, by your last boyfriend, Mingyu, but not like this - never like this. Foreplay was never on his mind, giving you pleasure was something he had never thought of doing; you barely even remember a time he had given you a leg-shaking orgasm, which, if Jaehyun continued to reach inside of you like that, you’re sure you’ll have your first one by tonight. “So fucking tight, all for me, isn’t that right, darling?”
“Fuck, Jaehyun!” your voice is thin, still attempting to keep yourself hush, not wanting the immoral act to be known to your friend just a few doors down the hall, still waiting on your return from your break - but you’re almost sure that the lewd, wet noises of his palm slapping against your wet cunt that echoes against the pillars and golden framed paintings that line the corridors may prove your wish hopeless. Jaehyun’s fingers brush against the spot that causes your legs to shake, and with a knowing glint in his umber eyes, he continues to brush against it. “Jaehyun, shit, right there, fuck! Fuck, yeah, just like that!”
He heeds to your words, the tips of his fingers grazing against your g-spot repeatedly, and you feel yourself unravelling. It takes all for you to not let your eyes roll to the back of your head, screwing your eyes shut as you focus on his fingers stretching your walls out in a steady, rough motion; walls beginning to clench around him, you feel your desired orgasm coming. “You’re gonna cum, (Y/N)?” he questions you as your walls quiver around his digits. “You’re gonna cum just from the use of my fingers alone? Dirty girl, tell me who owns this cunt.”
A hot sigh leaves your lips, barely focusing on his voice due to the yearning of your release. Whining, you open your eyes again to look into his, begging with your pupils to get him to continue, but his face is monotonous. “J-Jaehyun,” your voice is weak. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Answer my fucking question, (Y/N), or else I won’t let you cum at all,” his tone is dark, which gives you all the more to whine as he picks up the pace of his fingers, sinful noises filling your ears. The act alone causes the knot in the pit of your stomach to unravel just a little more, and Jaehyun leans down to bite the skin of the crook of your neck. “Fucking tell me who owns this dirty little cunt, (Y/N).”
“You do,” you whimper, voice juddering with every thrust his fingers make. “You do, it’s yours, it’s all fucking yours! P-Please!”
“It’s all mine?” he taunts you, he’s panting now as well, digits flashing in and out of you at a speed you weren’t even aware that a human can make. “What is? What’s all mine?”
“Fuck, Jaehyun!” you whine in aggravation. The aching need to orgasm causes the strain you’ve put on your words to escape, voice loud against the marble walls. “It’s yours! This cunt is all yours! It’s fucking yours! It’s yours to fuck and, and, it’s yours t-to… fuck! I’m coming!”
It hits you in waves, the feeling of pleasure enveloping your body as you feel your pussy pulsate against his hand. You crane your neck back as he continues to lap at your neck, leaving memoirs of his presence in the form of soft-red markings across your skin. As the orgasm leaves your body, you are left with quivering legs, barely mustering the energy to hold yourself against the marble walls, much to the man’s amusement. It’s obvious what the two of you had done; his hand glistens with your juices against the light of the moon that travels through the planes of glass across the hall; the fabric of the shirt that he had adorned was wrinkled from your pulling and clenching of fists; your lips, that had been painted a deep shade of red prior, were now a lighter red, and Jaehyun seemed to have the same shade on, and the lingering fluid that escaped from your cunt during your orgasm lines across your inner thighs.
As you come down from your orgasm, his lips find their way to pressing against yours once more, gentle in touch this time. Your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him close, closer than you had ever thought of him being. You feel pricklings traveling through your nerves as his tongue enters your mouth, and you find yourself yearning for more just before he pulls away, panting heavily. As he parts his lips to speak, you hear footsteps walking down the hall, and you gasp, pushing him off of you and adjusting your attire and hair, letting the hem of Jaehyun’s shirt fall past your thighs to cover the residue of what had just happened. Jaehyun watches you with an amused smile on his face, wiping his hands on the back of his trousers and grabbing the glasses that stayed atop his head and perching them back on his nose again, carelessly brushing his pure-white sleeve against his lips that causes the dark lipstick that you had stained his face with to rub off.
“(Y/N)!” you hear Johnny’s familiar voice call just before he comes around the corner, the flashlight of his phone dashing around the corridor. He turns to the corridor you and Jaehyun both stood in, jumping in shock for only a second - possibly thinking he had come across ghosts - before visibly relaxing and walking towards you in his confident gait, his phone still flashing in the darkness. You squint, terrified that he might be able to deduce what happened between the both of you with the torchlight. “God! You were gone for so long! I heard yelling! What happened?”
“She got lost trying to find the bathroom, and I scared her.” Jaehyun lies with ease, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. You eyed him for a few seconds, gaze lingering his body - he seemed so casual, as if what had just happened sprung only in your mind, but you are still able to detect a trace of your MAC lipstick on the side of his lips and the messy waves of his hair that your hands were entangled in. Yet, you were still appalled at how easy the lies fell past his lips. “She started yelling at me, it was really funny.”
“Jaehyun, you bastard,” Johnny sighs, sending him a sharp eye before turning around and patting your hair down. For a second, he squints towards your lip, and you fear that he found the first clue of what the two of you had been doing, but he seems to ignore it, eyes flashing back up to yours. “If you want me to beat my brother’s head in with my camera, I’ll be happy to do it.”
You open your mouth to answer but Jaehyun’s voice interrupts you. “Hey, if it weren’t for me, she would still be lost in your stupid winding corridors,” he gruffs, crossing his arms over his chest; the action highlights the muscles underneath the thin fabric of his shirt but you will yourself to look away. “She’ll just have to owe me. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”
His voice has a hint of amusement in it, tone lighthearted as he sends you a smile with crescent-shaped eyes, and your heart jumps in not lust, but with something else you have yet to figure out - but you’re aware of the hidden connotations of his sentence, the feeling that Jaehyun had reached into your core slightly coming back at the thoughts that race around your mind of images of him. You only nod, throat going dry, before smiling simply.
“Yes, Jaehyun,” you heed his words, and for a fleeting second, an amused smile on his face shone with a lordly flame. “I owe you.”
-----
The night that you laid in bed trying to daze into slumber after your first encounter with Jung Jaehyun proved a sleepless one, one that kept you rolling over and over again in your plush bed, constantly flipping your pillows and kicking your duvet out of sheer frustration. The memories of Jaehyun’s sinful words and breathy grunts, recalling his fingers flashing in and out of you, brought back the itch inside of you like no other; you only fell asleep after finding solace in your own fingers, and even they couldn’t cause you to reach the heights Jaehyun had shown you.
You do not tell Irene; you couldn’t tell Irene, and you shouldn’t tell Irene, because you are certain that she will blow a gasket the moment the man in question’s name leaves your lips because you did not listen to her. You have never lied to your best friend before, nor have you ever kept a secret from her - but it is for the best for the situation. Besides, you and Jaehyun were only using each other for each other’s body, to let desires that shouldn’t be exhibited in public out - at least, that’s what you believed, and your best friend doesn’t have to know that. Yet, each time she walks to your side with an indication of concern in her brow, you find it hard to keep your secrets locked within your lips.
“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?” asks Irene, her voice muffled underneath the soft chatter of a high-end lounge she had invited you to. You stare down into the liquid of your tonic water, choosing something non-alcoholic in order to keep your honesty and deceit under control. “You’ve been really quiet lately. Is there something troubling you?”
“No worries, Irene,” you muster a small smile, genuine enough to see her body relax as you swish your water in your glass. It’s grating to know how effortless it was for you to lie to her. “Nothing is the matter. I’m just a little tired from my schedules lately, I’m really sorry if it’s been making you uncomfortable.”
She pouts slightly, not quite believing your tale. “(Y/N),” she tells you, grabbing your hand. You felt guilt shake through your nerves at her touch - but you cannot tell her about you and Jaehyun, even if your life depended on it. “Don’t worry about me, okay? If something is the matter, tell me, okay? I’m your best friend - your sister - for a reason.”
“Of course, Irene.” you say, the fib falling past your lips and disappearing into thin air. She nods once, a concerned gaze lingering on you for only one last second before she tears her eyes off of you to look back at the menu on the bar in front of her. Irene had invited you to accompany her at a new lounge that had opened up in Myeong-dong, apparently owned by a good friend of hers named Lee Taeyong. Seokjin was due to show up in a few minutes after a scheduled meeting, and according to Irene, may have in tow a friend of his that ‘you may be interested in.’
As she turns her attention towards the menu, you find yourself gazing back down at your tonic water, watching as the liquid swashes against the clear collins glass, soon becoming bored with it. Your eyes then find themselves exploring the sight of the lounge in front of you - you and Irene sat right in the middle of the lounge, at the bar, the sleek black marble table rounded as baristas around inside the circle juggle around alcoholic drinks and other platters to deliver to their patents. Outside of the circle, there are multiple seats with tables, occupied with several gentlemen in suits and ladies covered in Dior. The extravagance of it all was very familiar to you, for having grown up in an environment much like it, regardless; you would be lying if you were to say you hadn’t grown tired of it.
“Oh, they’re here!” Irene’s voice causes you to snap out of your daze and look towards the entrance in front of you, Seokjin’s familiar face coming into view as he hands one of the servers his Burberry coat; behind him is a man not much shorter than him, jet black tufts of hair and sharp observant eyes. For a second, you feel your heart race in your chest - whoever Seokjin had brought is definitely a beautiful man, and perhaps Irene was right about taking an interest in him, however, you shouldn’t jump before you had talked to him.
“Hello, darling, hello (Y/N),” Seokjin embraces the two of you before he stands out of the way to pull in the man following idly behind him. Upon closer inspection, his facial features are some of the most sharpest you’ve ever seen - his eyes, obviously sharp from a distance, are cutting up close, jawline whetted and embracing against his sleek lips. You feel as if you’ve seen him before, but you can’t pinpoint where. “This is Kim Doyoung, he’s currently filming a movie under Kim Productions right now.”
The familiarity hits you like a train as you recall seeing his face on your screen many times - he’s a very celebrated actor in South Korea, especially so since he had broken into the Western film industry. You weren’t much of a big fan of movies, finding yourself falling asleep no matter the genre or amount of stars the movie acquired, but you know a famous face when you see one. After he greets Irene with a kind smile, you stretch your hand outwards to address him, a gracious simper on your face. “It’s very nice to meet you, Doyoung. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”
You and Doyoung are quick to become close, letting the engaged couple next to the two of you converse to themselves. As the night drones on and as people in identical Brunello suits and Dior dresses pile in and out of the lounge, you and Doyoung share stories of your childhood, finding out that he wasn’t born into the world of money like you were, instead having to find his way up and through the industry by making sacrifices. You discover that he has an estranged relationship with his parents, instead finding familial solace in his brother who is also an actor, named Gongmyung. You learn of his hobbies, that he enjoyed singing and reading, and find out that before he had pursued the world of acting, he had thought of heading into the direction of law and government.
For an hour and a half, you find yourself delved into the person that is Kim Doyoung, realizing that this is discussion prevails information of most people you know other than your two closest friends. In the middle of a conversation on the topic of college, you begin to abandon the lingering memories that had been taking up your mind by the man who had left remnants of himself in it. Perhaps, you spoke too soon.
“Kim Doyoung,” the familiar voice sends jolts through your body as if it were an involuntary impulse. You tear your eyes from Doyoung’s sharp, yet friendly gaze and let them sink into Jung Jaehyun’s soft, but intense ones. He is dressed in a plain black button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows as he cradles a glass of cheval blanc, arm adorned with his Daniel Wellington watch, hand deep in the pocket of his black trousers. His hair is slicked back but to the side, few strands swaying against his forehead. A smirk plays on his lip, and the sight of it makes your thighs clench in response. “It’s been a while since we’ve last met.”
“Jung Jaehyun, long time no see,” Doyoung’s voice holds restraint when his eyes meet Jaehyun’s, a look of revolt flashing in them before he stands to his feet to bow. “I heard that Jung & Associates will be under your command soon. Congratulations.”
“Yes,” he concurs, taking a sip of his champagne as he pulls up a chair next to Doyoung. He has not looked at you once since arriving into the conversation, but something about his tone of voice leads you to think he is blatantly aware of your presence, such as you are of his. “And I heard that you starred in a film that was nominated for an Academy award? How delightful. It was the one with the zombies, right?”
Doyoung sets his glass of sauvignon blanc onto the bar, gulping down the liquid. “Yes.”
“Well, congratulations to you.” a haughty smirk guised as an amiable smile makes its way onto Jaehyun’s face before his eyes finally land on you, training on your face for a few seconds before they begin to slowly make their way down your form clad in a tulle minidress by Marchesa. “(Y/N), a pleasure to see you here.”
“Jaehyun.” you nod once, tightening your fingers around the stem of your wine. “It’s nice to see you here too. The two of you know each other?”
Doyoung looks up from his glass, towards you. “The two of us were in multiple classes together during college, before I dropped out to pursue acting,” he explains. He seemed apprehensive, and you acknowledge why - the presence of Jaehyun is far too strong to bear. “We are very close friends. I see the both of you are close, as well.”
Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he says anything. “Actually,” you say, correcting him. “Jaehyun and I are just acquaintances - we know each other through his brother, Johnny.”
“Ah, I see.” Doyoung nods, before he begins occupying himself with sips of his wine. Through the awkward silence, you turn your gaze to Jaehyun, whose eyes train on you with an emotion you can only decipher as need, a knowing glint in both of his pupils. Flashes of his fingers disappearing in and out of you play through your mind, and you cross your legs together to combat the growing feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“So what brings you here, Jaehyun?” you ask the man after he orders himself another glass of cheval blanc; Doyoung, in between the two of you, stays silent.
“I just finished a meeting with Park & Kim Law, and was about to head to the exit when I saw you and an old friend conversing, and I thought, why not?” he says, leaning forward on both of his elbows to direct his gaze fully onto you without the diversion of Doyoung’s head. You quirk your eyebrow for a nanosecond at the fleeting thought of a law firm meeting taking place at a lounge, but you let it go. “And you, (Y/N), what brings you and Doyoung here? A date, perchance?”
His voice is soft, but with the slightest inkling of venomous jealousy, quirking his eyebrows as the words leave his mouth. “No!” you find yourself saying far too quickly, an amused smile making its way onto Jaehyun’s face. “Doyoung and I actually just met, we’re here with Seokjin and Irene.” you turn around to face the engaged couple who were sat next to you, deep in conversation as if they were in their own world. You turn back towards Jaehyun, whose eyes were not looking at yours, but are now gazing at someplace lower. “Actually, I was just about to leave. I have a schedule tomorrow morning.”
“I see,” Jaehyun hums, his top teeth sinking down into his bottom lip as he listens to you. He turns to Doyoung, resting his jaw against his fist, almost taunting him. “Will you be accompanying her, Doyoung? Drop her off at home?”
Doyoung lets out a sigh as he takes another swing of his wine, looking up towards you, the nervousness behind his eyes since Jaehyun had arrived replaced with a flame. “I’m afraid I still have business to discuss with Seokjin,” he says apologetically, straightening his back and turning his body fully around to ignore Jaehyun’s presence. “If I could, I would gladly drive you home - the streets aren’t safe this time of night.”
“It’s alright, Doyoung,” you let out a laugh, setting a hand down on his shoulder - as you do, you feel Jaehyun’s eyes burning through your hand. “I’ll just call my chauffeur, which, speaking of calling, may I ask for your number?”
He complies, and you let out a shaky breath as you feel Jaehyun’s gaze lingering on your skin growing stronger and stronger; just as Doyoung hands you your phone back with his newly added contact, Jaehyun stands from his seat. “I can drive you home.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise before a slight smirk makes its way onto your lips. “You don’t have to, Jaehyun, really,” you tell him, letting out a breathy laugh. “I’ll just call my chauffeur - they are always on duty.”
“No, I insist,” Jaehyun speaks, far too quickly to save face. The tips of his ears are red, much to your pleasure; he’s jealous. “Doyoung is right, the streets aren’t safe this time of night, and I think it would be better for you to come with me considering that we already do have an established knowledge of each other - plus, it’s what Johnny would want for me to do. What’s your address?”
You simply quirk your eyebrow at him before standing up from your seat and collecting your things, reciting your address as Jaehyun puts it into a GPS app on his phone. As you turn towards your best friend, deep in conversation with her fiancé, you apprehensively tap her on her shoulder. Irene turns towards you in the middle of a sentence with a look of wonder on her face when she sees you ready to go. Searching for the will to lie to her face once again, you force your shaking breath to calm. “Hey, Irene, I have a really early schedule tomorrow - I’ll be leaving, alright?”
“Oh, is Doyoung taking you home?” asks Irene, eyes flashing to the jet-black haired man still seated on his stool, staring into his glass. You shake your head.
“No, Jaehyun will be taking me home,” your voice is nonchalant enough to not raise suspicion, but Irene’s eyebrows raise in disturbance the moment his name slips from your lips. She leans forward to spot Jung Jaehyun on the other side of Doyoung, already throwing on his tweed coat as he sends her his usual gracious, kilowatt smile. She leans back to you and parts her lips to ask why he had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, as well as why you were so casual in leaving with him, but you cut her off. “Don’t worry, Irene. If anything happens, Johnny will beat him up. It’s fine, don’t worry.”
“Are you sure, (Y/N)?” Irene is wholly worried, grasping your forearm as she pulls you forward, closer to her, speaking in a hushed tone. “Seokjin and I can drop you off instead.”
“Irene, I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I don’t want to ruin your night, okay?” You let out a sigh, straightening your back again and giving her a radiant smile of deceit to tell her that you will be alright. She lets out a huff of air in defeat, nodding her head. As you pivot on your heel, you keep your head turned towards Irene as you begin to walk towards Jaehyun, hands already buried in the pockets of his coat. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Of course.” Irene says with a tight lip. Your eyes flash towards Doyoung, who watches you with eyes filled with an emotion you cannot decipher, before you flash him a smile.
“Doyoung,” you nod your head. “I hope to see you soon, as well.”
“Of course.”
The cool January air obnoxiously hits your exposed legs the moment you step out of the lounge, the VIP parking lot littered with snow as you trail behind Jaehyun’s large form. You hear the jingling of his keys and the tone of his car beeping not too far ahead; he was quiet, and it caused a tension to seduce the air between the two of you. He opens the passenger side of his sleek noir Mercedes to let you climb in before rounding to his side, slamming his door closed. The purr of the engine is smooth as it glides down the city streets, flashes of flight originating from the tall buildings above decorating the skin of your thighs. A few moments later, you’re the first to part your lips.
“Jaehyun,“ you start, voice calm, but your intentions are clear; teasing lightly laces your words.. “Is something the matter?”
He takes a few seconds to answer, you see his jaw clenching before he opens his mouth. “No,” he simply says. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” you can’t bear to keep the growing smirk off your lips. You play with the hem of your Marchesa dress, the tulle thin between your thumb and forefinger. “It just seems as if you’re… angry. A little tense.”
“I’m not,” Jaehyun’s voice is calm, harmonized by the low purr of his engine. “Just a little confused as to why you seem so interested in Kim Doyoung.”
You quirk your eyebrow as you listen to his tensed words, as if he were keeping himself contained within his body. You let out a scoff. “I’m not interested in him,” you trail off, watching the city pass you by as Jaehyun begins to near your estate’s territory. “I’m just… a little curious.”
“I can promise you, (Y/N),” he mutters. “There is nothing about that man you should be curious about.”
“Really?” you challenge him, turning to look at him again. The lamp posts that litter the streets highlight his facial structures in a way you have never seen - sleek cheeks cut from his high cheekbones, warm brown eyes cast shades darker; you never really noticed how long his eyelashes are, kissing his under eyes. “The way you jumped to steal me from him leads me to believe that there is.”
You watch as his lips slowly curl into a wry smirk, letting out a huff of air as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Are you presuming that I’m jealous, darling?” he lets out a chuckle, eyes turning into crescents but his tone is sinister. You press your thighs together. “Is that why you were suddenly so pursuant in flirting with him in front of me? You want to make me jealous? Because I saw you moments before I arrived and you were merely chatting with him like a normal friend - it wasn’t until I sat on that stool when you began to feel his arms through his blazer.”
An amused smile plays on your lips as you look back out the windshield window, seeing that he has arrived to your gates. The guard that mans the metal doorways only wakes up from his slumber to press the button that opens it, Jaehyun slowly driving his Mercedes through your gateway.
“The fact alone that you had been watching me and analyzing the touches I gave him says a lot, Jung Jaehyun,” you say in a hushed voice as he pulls up at the front of your house. The lights of your home were all turned off, signifying that your mother isn’t home, and neither are any of the maids - it is a Saturday after all. You turn to him, a teasing smile on your face, seeing that he had already been gazing at you. “But if you’re not jealous, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll let him fuck me until I can’t walk.”
When Jaehyun’s lips mesh into yours in a flurry of desperation, the words that you had let fall past your lips fly out the window, his hands on the back of your neck as he pulls you closer towards him over his console. He unbuckles his seat belt before he turns his entire body to you, lips parting as his tongue enters your mouth; you let out a moan as he does, combing your fingers through his ash brown locks.
“Not here,” you whisper, pulling away, his eyes opening before he looks at you in worry. “I want you to fuck me in my bed.”
The seconds it took for you and Jaehyun to climb out of his car, walk up your marble stairs, fish for your keys inside your purse blindly as the two of you continued to kiss each other before finally unlocking the door proves worth it as the rashness of his actions heightened the moment you shut the door behind you; he presses you against the whitewood and attaches his lips to yours again, hands set on your hips as you ring yours around the back of his neck. He smells of saffron and jasmin, slightly quiet moans escaping from his throat.
“Fuck,” he says, playing with the hem of your dress, trying to pull it down your body but the handmade strains deem too sturdy. “Get this shit off.”
“It’s Marchesa.” you pout, his eyes lingering on your lips, plump from kissing his own.
“I don’t give a shit what it is or isn’t,” Jaehyun grunts. “I want it off of you. Now.”
You heed to his word, reaching for the zipper on the side of your waist as you connect your lips to his again, the neckline of your dress relaxes, and as his tongue dances with yours, he slowly begins to slide your dress down your form. He pulls away to look at your figure, wearing only a lace black bra with matching panties, and he lets out a grunt.
“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, hands travelling up your body to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. His lips are close to your ear before he begins to kiss spots on your neck, tongue moving languishly against your skin. “God, I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”
His words cause you to suck in a breath as you tighten your thighs together, and he seems to notice, a deep chuckle forming from his throat. You lean your head to the side to allow him more space to your neck, your hands travelling from his broad back to the front of his chest, trailing down towards his jeans. When you feel how stiff he is through the denim material of his pants, you pull away from him. He looks at you with wonder, your hooded eyes and smirk ringing clear to him as you slowly begin to push him towards your staircase, having him sit down on one of the carpeted steps while your knees touch the cool marble flooring of your entrance hallway.
“You said it yourself, I owe you, don’t I?” you whisper as you unbuckle his belt. He watches you as you do, enchanted with the way your fingers moved to free his cock from their strain. When you finally release his stiff shaft from his underneath his boxers, you practically salivate at the sight - he was long and thick, the tip of his head pink in desperation. When your lips wrapped around his cock, he sinks his upper teeth into his bottom lip to keep a moan from escaping his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as your tongue slicks around his throbbing tip.
You keep your eyes trained on his face, taking in every sinful expression that makes way on his angelic features; it should be a sin to look as angelic as he is but have the most sinful sounds fall past his lips - but the thought excited you. Ever since you had first seen him, Jung Jaehyun had looked like nothing else but like an art piece from the Romantic era had come to life ; with his gentle yet captivating umber eyes, to the way his lips curl as if he was always hiding a secret - to see him in such a filthy, obscene circumstances caused you to yearn for more. Even as you begin pumping your mouth around his cock, you yearned for more; for him to bury himself deeper into your throat.
“Fuck! Yes! Yes, fuck, that’s it, take my cock into your pretty little mouth,” Jaehyun grunts, raking his fingers through your hair to form a makeshift ponytail, holding your head steady against his crotch. He begins to slowly rock his hips up and down, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, lewd noises emitting from the back of your throat; you look up at him through your eyelashes with pleading eyes. He fucks into your mouth slowly, making sure he doesn’t hurt you, but deeply, hissing at the feeling of your throat spasming every time the tip of his cock grazes against it.
“That’s it, darling, fuck, your throat feels so good.” he grunts as he does one long thrust, feeling your mouth around the entirety of his cock, burying it deep in your throat for a few seconds. As he keeps it there, relishing in the spasming of your tongue and the swishing of your saliva, your gag reflex threatens you, and you clutch at the flesh of his thighs for support, screwing your eyes shut. He slides out, strings of saliva connecting your plump lips to the base of his cock as you cough out in strained breaths; your eye makeup has already began to run down your face. “Such a good girl aren’t you, letting me fuck your mouth?”
Your eyes are trained on his when he stands up from his seated position, keeping your position kneeled down on the marble floors; biting your lips stained with saliva and lingering droplets of Jaehyun’s pre-cum, you nod meekly which causes a smirk to spread on Jaehyun’s lips. Your eyes trail down to his cock again, wanting it back in your system, but he seemed to have other plans as he hauls you to stand up by your hair. His other free hand makes its way to your clothed pussy, pressing against the moistened fabric, taking in the way your eyebrows furrow in hunger.
“Look at you, such an eager whore,” He chuckles, hot breath pressing against your ear as his middle finger slides against the thin fabric pressed against your sopping heat. Your hips buck against the teasing single digit, and he lets out an amused laugh at your desperation. “All this just from my fingers? All this because I fucked your throat? Who made you this wet, darling?”
You only focus on his finger sliding against your clothed folds, your eyes hooded as you clutch your hand against Jaehyun’s forearm. It’s when he tugs on your scalp again, forcing you to look into his eyes, when you realized he had asked you a question, dark eyes burning into yours. You open your mouth, breath shaking at the little contact. “You did, Jaehyun.”
“Shit,” he grunts. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“Upstairs, left, very last door.”
He wastes no time in sweeping you off your feet, letting out a light gasp as he effortlessly carries you up the stairs, following the directions that you had given him, your legs dangling while you wrap your hands around his neck, lips attaching to his skin. He kicks your bedroom door open, and throws you on top of your blankets. When your back hits against your familiar plush mattress, you spend no time in recognizing the comfort you had grown up in as Jaehyun quickly pulls your panties down your legs, getting onto his knees on your carpeted floors.
The moment you feel his warm tongue glide through your wet folds, you gasp out his name, throwing your head back at the unfamiliar sensation. Your toes curl as Jaehyun’s tongue circles around your clit, nub sensitive causing you to buck your hips forward; your fingers make their way into his hair, grabbing at his ash blonde locks to bring him closer. Your ex-boyfriend, Mingyu, had never given you this type of pleasure before, your few times together only ever resulting in a quick blowjob and dull sex that would only last for a few minutes - you have never been on the receiving side of oral, nor have you ever felt your body ache with pleasure at the most bare minimum things. Every touch Jaehyun puts on your skin spreads through your body like fire, and you want it more and more.
“Fuck, baby, you taste so sweet,” Jaehyun peppers the inside of your thigh with memoirs of his lips in the form of deep red bruises, the tip of his middle finger slowly tracing over your slit, coating his digit with your juices and of his saliva. You shudder at the familiarity of his fingers against sliding through your folds, having yearned for them inside of you again since your own couldn’t reach as far as he could - and when he eagerly slipped two fingers inside of you, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. He grins as he hears the sinful sound. “Jesus, so fucking tight.”
He leans forward once more, reattaching his lips to your pussy, his tongue sliding against your clit in circular motions while begins to move the digits in and out of your slit, already having found a certain spot that led you whimpering his name. “J-Jaehyun,” you breathe out in short gasps, furrowing your eyebrows together as the sensation of his long fingers spreading you out racks your mind. “Fuck, Jaehyun, right there.”
He continues to fuck you with his fingers, tongue flashing past your clit in lewd motions - his hand travels up your body, goosebumps adorning your skin with each touch before he pulls down your lace bra, your nipples hardened against the cool air. He rolls your nub with his free hand, eyes trained on your face and taking in your expressions as the pleasure overtakes your body. He continues to graze the pads of his fingers against your spot, and your back arches off your mattress, sucking in a sharp breath.
“Are you gonna cum, darling?” he pulls his mouth away from your pussy, but his fingers continue to fuck into you. He looks up at you with taunting eyes and the sight only brings you to the edge further. The sight is enough to take you over the edge, the pads of his fingers grazing over your spot just one last time before your orgasm rakes through your body, your hips bucking against his still moving fingers - you mewl at his presence in your sensitive core. “That’s right, cum all over my fingers, just like that.”
Your breathing is faltering, but Jaehyun wastes no time before he kneels onto your bed, the mattress dipping as you attempt to catch your breath. He peers down at you with a soft smile on his face, juxtaposing the lingering remnants of your juices and his saliva that frames his plumped lips. You only find peace for a fleeting moment at his tranquil expression before you feel his throbbing tip slide against your slit, the expression on Jaehyun’s face transforming into a teasing one.
“Look at you, you’re a mess,” he taunts you, sliding his tip against your pussy, coating his head in your juices. You shudder at how close he is to finally plunging deep inside of you, but still being so far away. You whimper as he continues to do it, and although you’ve already had your orgasm, the aching need that had occupied the pit of your stomach since you had left your first encounter forming in your stomach again. “Jesus Christ, what will become of you once I give you my cock?”
“Fucking hell, Jung Jaehyun, just fuck me already.” you let out a frustrated whimper, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck to pull him closer, his body falling on top of yours as your lips move against his. He chuckles against them, before he positions himself against your slit, slowly pushing in. You pull away from his lips when he enters you, a gasp falling from your slacked jaw as he stretches you open.
“Jesus fuck, (Y/N), you’re so fucking tight!” he grunts when the base of his cock hits the mound of your pussy. You can do all but speak, eyes screwed shut as you clutch onto his forearms on either side of you. You’ve observed that he’s large before, but he stretches you out so well - he slowly begins to move his hips, and the slight pain begins to subside, transforming into pleasure. As you relax your body, you let out short gasps every time he thrusts back into you again. “Shit, you feel so good around me.”
You hear Jaehyun’s baritone voice, but it seems as if it’s located a million miles away, you floating bliss as you relish in the sensation of his cock sliding against your walls repeatedly. Each time he thrusts all the way back before slams inside of you again, you let out sharp gasps; his cock reaches into your core even further than his fingers already had, and it feels so, so good.
“Look at you,” Jaehyun breathes as he picks up the pace of his hips, rutting into you at a faster speed, his arms pinned on either side of you. Your hair, usually styled and perfectly placed around your face, is splayed out in messy fashion against your cream sheets; your face is flushed with excitement and lust, jaw slack as profane noises fall past your mouth and into the hot air between both of your bodies; your eyes, usually so focused and attentive, are glossed over with desire, hooded as your tits bounce with each thrust Jaehyun drives into you. “So fucked out already. Doyoung could never fuck you this good, right, darling?”
“J-Jaehyun.” is all you are able to whine as he continues to fuck into you, hard and deep; the sounds of skin slapping against skin harmonized with the sound of the both of you breathing heavily is what occupies the space between the two of you. He pulls your hips higher, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to fuck you even deeper - the sensation of the tip of his cock grazing against you sensitive spot causes your nails to sink into the skin of his forearms.
“Tell me again, darling,” ask Jaehyun, his hand moving towards your throat and gently wrapping his fingers around your neck. As he continues to drive his cock into your tight pussy, his voice comes out in strained grunts. “What did you want Doyoung to do to you?”
“F-Fuck,” you could barely form a word, each thrust he gives you causes all your thoughts to melt into obscurity, sentences jumbled into whines and moans. His clutch on your throat tightens and you’re almost sure your eyes are about to roll to the back of your head in pure bliss.
“I asked you a question,” he growls, slamming into you again and again. “I expect you to fucking answer me.”
“I-I wanted him to,” You manage to squeak out a few words. “Fuck m-me until I c-couldn’t walk.”
“And tell me, darling, who’s the only one who can do that?” he ruts his hips even faster than before, your bed squeaking as your mattress moves with every push he makes into your pussy. At this new angle, his the tip of his cock hits your spot perfectly, over and over again, a sensation that induces you to scream his name as you arch your back off the bed.
“Jaehyun! Fuck!” you yell, hearing your voice echo against the walls of your bedroom - he doesn’t stop though - as you scream his name, laced with foul words, repeatedly, his cock continues to drive deep inside of your pussy, making sure he leaves a mark inside of you that only he can give.
“Fucking tell me,” he pulls his hand away from your throat to grab onto your face, forcing you to look at him. Tears of pleasure have began to spring against your waterline, falling past your lower eyelids and staining your bedsheets; your face is streamed with marks of your mascara and eyeliner, your lips plump from biting into them to refrain yourself from screaming his name. “Tell me, (Y/N), who’s the only one who can fuck you? Who does your tight fucking cunt belong to?”
“Y-You-” you whimper out in a quiet voice only to scream again when Jaehyun moves your hips higher, his cock driving into your deeper and harder than before. His grip on your waist is tight as he moves his hips; you’re sure to have bruises the next morning but all you could focus on at that moment is your nearing second orgasm. “Fuck, Jaehyun! You! It’s yours! Only you can fuck me, shit!”
“That’s right,” he leans back, yet another angle racking over your body, his throbbing tip hitting your sensitive core rhythmically. Sweat begins to drip from his forehead, his face glistening in the dim lighting of your bedroom - even now, even through the indecent circumstances the two of you were in, he is beautiful. “Your pretty little cunt is mine, only mine.”
“Y-Yes, Jaehyun, it’s yours,” you whimper, clutching at your bed sheets. What had started as a lonely night had quickly become one filled with the sound of slapping skin and a creaking bed, Jaehyun’s deep grunts music to your ears as you feel your walls spasm around his cock. A knot had formed in the pit of your stomach again, a sense that only Jaehyun had ever given you, and you feel your mind haze over. “J-Jaehyun, fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”
“Cum for me baby,” Jaehyun whispers, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head as the feeling rakes your body, sending goosebumps over your skin - you hear Jaehyun’s moans becoming louder as you cum but they are muffled with the stir of your pleasure, seeing stars in the darkness behind your eyelids. Your body goes numb, core sensitive, but Jaehyun continues to fuck into you through your orgasm. “Fuck, baby, are you on the pill? I need to cum inside you.”
You only simply whisper out a yes, voice shaking and broken from the screaming you had done all night, still caught in a daze from your orgasm, before feeling Jaehyun’s hips falter as he lets out a low groan. His thrusting slows and his jaw becomes slack, eyes directed downwards, at his cock connected to your pussy, ash blonde hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks flushed with both lust and exhaustion. He fills you up with his cum with shaking breaths, it is when he pulls out when you feel the warm liquid slip out of you.
He wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you again, lips molding together as if they were meant to be pressed against each other - his hands, now gentle, caressing your hair and your hands cupping his face. The two of you have left memoirs of each other on the other’s body, and although you aren’t sure what the two of you quite are, the tranquility that fills the air when you look into his eyes after he pulls away from your lips, a gentle smile making its way onto his face before he pulls himself beside you against the plush pillows if your bed, only brings you an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time.
“You’re so beautiful.”
That night, when you fell asleep in Jaehyun’s warm embrace, as his heaving breaths slowly transition into a soft, rhythmic snoring, you are happy.
-----
Jung Jaehyun, to put it simply, is like a drug to you. If his presence is elsewhere, your body aches for him, almost begging for company even without your knowledge, and he knows it. The haughty smirk that you had grown used to ever since the first time your eyes laid on him had grown wider now, even more when his name is all you’re able to say whenever he drives his cock into your core. You’re selfish; almost every single night is a night spent with him, with your bodies pressed together in a dance between the sheets of your bed, or his bed, or whatever environment the two of you occupy.
There was one time, only a day after the first time he had fucked you, when he had picked you up from your home - your mother believed that you were leaving for Irene’s house to pay her a visit, but she was awfully incorrect. You and Jaehyun never made it to where he was planning to take you, having parked deep in a bundle of trees, somewhere far where no one could find the both of you, before fucking you in the backseat of his noir Mercedes. His windows were tinted and the steam that had accumulated on the glass would prove it difficult to look through if anyone were able to find his parked car, but the rocking motion of his automobile probably would have proved your theory wrong.
There was another time, a week after the first time he had fucked you, when you visited the Jung & Associates tower deep in the heart of the city during the evening, when almost all of their employees had left. That night, he bent you over his mahogany desk and drilled into you ruthlessly, his necktie disposed of, wrapping it around your neck to keep you on your knees on top of the table, your soaked panties shoved into your mouth to muffle your whines and screams in case a few employees loitered around the office on the other side of Jaehyun’s door.
And another time, your favourite time, when you had a flight to Los Angeles to oversee a branch of Decoré’s boutiques and their dodgy revenue, when a knock reverberated on the door to your penthouse, and upon opening it, you were greeted with the familiarity of Jaehyun’s lips on yours. He promised to fuck you on every surface, eager to see you coming undone on top of each piece of furniture laid out in your penthouse. You could barely remember that night; having had innumerable orgasms, each memory is a blur of lust and pleasure - but you can recall being pressed against the panoramic window that blessed you the view of all of Hollywood as he fucked into you from behind, deep voice reminding you of your blasphemy while people went on about their day below the two of you.
Your life is filled with responsibilities and expectations - you are expected to have a beautiful posture, a graceful expression, careful movements, and wise words; never to have a cuss word fall past your lips, never to have a revolted expression grace on your face. If you were to make one wrong move, the future of Decoré may be in peril - but with Jaehyun, as obscene as your actions with him are, you feel as if you are truly yourself. With his throbbing cock pumping in and out of your core, all your thoughts of maintaining your prim and proper reputation are pushed out of your mind, instead focused on raking your fingernails down the skin of his back.
Today, your hands are occupied with tugging on your Hermés scarf that you had wrapped around your neck, concentrated on cloaking the marks forged on the skin of your neck that Jaehyun had left with his lips the night prior. Today, there was yet another gala that you were invited to, some politician that your mother is acquainted with. To be excited is nothing close to how you really feel, knowing of the dull and tediousness that the rest of the night will consist of - you’re only thankful that your stylists didn’t force you into a corset again. You aren’t even sure why you had to attend, having no connection to the point of the gala except for your mother - you would much rather be at home, perhaps reading a book, watching a movie, telling Irene to accompany you, or perhaps texting Jaehyun to come over once again.
Your prediction for the night proves correct when you find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the venue, against the royal blue crushed velvet chairs as you stare into the liquid of your wine glass. You are adorned in a pure white dress by Elie Saab, and you were far too afraid to drop any of the desserts on it in fear of a stain, so you settle for just a simple drink instead. Tchaikovsky drones from the weary looking orchestra at the top of the stairwell, and you’re almost sure you’ve memorized each flat or sharp were located in the flurry of notes. Your mother, the social bird, is off conversing with other people that she’d acquainted herself with, a large, yet fake, smile on her face - it seemed as if no one your age was present, so you were grateful at the fact that her matchmaking business for you will be closed for the night.
You let out a sigh as the night drones on, the conclusion for the evening seemingly never arriving. You are unsure as to how the people around you seem to be enjoying themselves - Do people enjoy boring things as they grow older?you think, but you would never say it out loud.
“I like your scarf.”
The tone of voice automatically causes you to sit up straight, turning your head towards the direction it originated from. The man in question pulls up a seat next to you, a kind smile on his lips before sitting down on the crushed velvet padded seat. You quirk your eyebrow in surprise at his presence - you’d assume that he’d be someplace else, enjoying his night, but as you thought more about it, the environment fit his field of expertise.
“Thank you - it was a last minute choice, considering the circumstances.” you quip, setting down your glass of wine to tug at the scarf wrapped around your neck, careful to not expose the hickeys that dance against your skin. You’re unsure on how to act around him in public, you’re so used to letting your desires with him known that acting in your usual grace is unnatural for you. “What are you doing here?”
“Actually,” Jaehyun cocks his head to the side as he smiles, a dimple forming in his cheek, quirking his eyebrow as he lifts his champagne glass to his lips to take a sip. “I have a reason to be here, darling; the man who constructed this gala is a client of Jung & Associates. I should be the one asking you that.”
“Really?” you ponder on his sentence for a few seconds as you twirl the stem of your wine glass between your fingers. “Hm, first time I’ve heard of someone’s lawyers attending an event that their client hosts.”
“Well, he’s a very corrupt man,” Jaehyun says, turning his gaze towards you. Even just his stare causes you to feel a lustful desire - you cannot comprehend how much power he has over you. “You didn’t hear this from me, but he’s evidently guilty in a case of embezzling money and drugs underneath the guise of his campaign.”
Your eyebrows slightly raise in shock, gasping lightly. “Oh my gosh, really?” you ask, before furrowing your eyebrows in wonder. “Why have you accepted him as a client knowing that he’s guilty?”
“I was not the one who accepted him, darling,” he says, resting his cheek against his fist. His stance is relaxed, but his tone of voice seems to hold weight that you cannot pinpoint. “My father did - they were college buddies back in the day. Plus, you know what our kind desires - we all just want money, right?”
Your eyes slowly trail from his eyes to your drink, pondering on his words. “I guess you’re right.”
“Speaking of my father,” Jaehyun’s voice is hushed now, and uncharacteristically panicked. “Here he comes. Try to act casual, can you do that for me?”
“Of course.” you whisper back, getting ready to put your front on again, lifting your gaze just in time to spot the tall, broad-shouldered man walking towards your table. It’s a little jarring, really, seeing Jaehyun’s father for the first time; it’s as if Jaehyun had aged several years and had gone bald - the image in your head causes the corner of your lips to quiver humorously but you contain your laughter.
“Jaehyun, I’ve been looking for you since we entered this gala, there are people who would like to congratulate you.” his father’s voice is gruff, evident of experienced smoking. He barely pays attention to your presence, his eyes set on Jaehyun only, and the man beside you, whose gait is always dripping with confidence, seems to wane. You gulp as you look between Jaehyun and his father, the tension in the air appearing seemingly out of nowhere - bad tension.
“I’m talking with a friend, father.” Jaehyun’s voice, all the stern that you have grown used to since hearing it for the first time, is softer. His father finally tears his glare at his son, his pupils snapping towards you, and suddenly, you understand why Jaehyun was acting menial. His father squints his eyes at you, observing you with scrutiny, and you let out a shaky breath before parting your lip.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jung.” you outstretch your hand over the table for him to shake, and the older man simply glances at it before setting his eyes on your face again. Your front almost falters, your hand retreating back into your lap as you burn with humility.
“Who are you?” he asks you, voice imperious.
“She’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Decoré,” Jaehyun answers for you. His tone of voice recovered slight dominance but his stance stays humble beside yours. “I’ve told you about her, remember?”
“Oh yes,” Mr. Jung answers, jaw square as he peers down at you, familiarity in his eyes. “That fashion brand. How is that going?”
You’re confused at his question, having never met him in the past, but you answer anyway. “It’s going alright, thank you.”
He nods once, finally tearing his weightful glare from you and returning back to his son. “Come now, Jaehyun,” he says, turning his body as a way to signal his leaving, waiting for Jaehyun to follow him. “There are people I’d like you to meet before your birthday next week.”
You turn your head to Jaehyun in surprise. “It’s your birthday next week?”
Jaehyun slowly stands from his chair, eyes slightly irate and training on his father, but his voice is gentle when he answers you. “Yes, on Valentines day.” He finally looks towards you, gaze softening when they land on your features, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion - why is he acting like that? “I have to go now, (Y/N). I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Of course.” you nod once, lips pressed tightly together as you watch Jaehyun’s form walk towards his father around the table. He gives you one last glance, a look that you cannot decipher, once again, appearing in his irises, before he turns his entire body from you, leaving you to sit alone.
As you watch his retreating form, you think of the newfound information that you had uncovered about Jung Jaehyun, of his birthday, and you realize that, although you know of Jung Jaehyun, that you know of the rumours surrounding him, and know of his body and what he’s capable of from the nights you’ve spent with him for the past month, you don’t sincerely, truly, know him.
-----
Jung Jaehyun does not talk to you soon; after the gala reached its conclusion, your phone remained silent for the following week, aside from Irene’s text messages as well as your mother’s phone calls to ask you how the house is going while she’s on a brief New York visit to oversee one of Decoré’s branches. Even Johnny, who would usually spam your notifications with the latest of internet memes, has been silent. For the following week, you wake up every morning to see if Jaehyun had contacted you, met with disappointment when you’re unable to find his name in your notifications, and you head to bed every night, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d text you before you fall asleep. You are reluctant on whether you should worry or not - perhaps he’s busy, he is taking the clutches of his company from his father’s grasp, but it’s on his birthday, when you greet him with a text only to be met with a notification that he’s read your message, when dread begins to pool your stomach.
“Is there something the matter?”
Irene’s voice causes you to snap out of your daze while you stare at the screen of your phone. It brings you a case of déja vu for only a second before you finally look up at her, a strained smile on your face.
“Hm? No, nothing’s the matter,” you act nonchalant, setting your phone back down in your lap as you cross your legs over each other. The two of you are seated in your bedroom, Irene splayed out on your bed as she hugs one of your pillows, and you at the stool of your vanity. “I’m fine, Irene. Why?”
“(Y/N),” Irene sighs as she sits up, putting the pillow she had been cuddling down against your plush mattress. “You’ve been acting different since your visit to Milan.”
“Have I?” you continue your front. It’s disgusting how easy you lie to her. “I feel fine, though.”
“Look, (Y/N),” Irene lets out a sigh, and you inwardly cringe - you know that she isn’t buying your words. “It’s fine that you don’t want to tell me, I don’t wanna pester it out of you because it’s your business. However, just know, no matter what it is, I’m here to talk to you, okay? If you told me you killed a man in Milan, I will back you up. I’m basically your sister, I’m here for you always. Please remember that.”
Her words eat at you with guilt, and you tear your eyes away from her, suddenly finding solace in your hands folded in your lap. “I know, Irene,” you whisper, voice shaking. “When the time comes, I’ll tell you. I promise.”
“Okay, now put your phone down,” Irene hops off the bed, a grin on her face. “It’s Valentine's day; you’re single, and my fiancé is in New York. Let’s go eat ice cream and watch romance movies.”
The rest of the night is spent lounging on the large couch in your sitting room with your best friend, nostalgic scenes of love confessions and innocent touches playing on the screen of your large television. Your mouths were filled with spoonfuls of ice cream, giggling and squealing at the scenes, as if both of you hadn’t already memorized every line from watching it repeatedly since your early teens. When the main character finally melts into the kiss of their love interest, Irene grabs the cushion next to her and doesn’t hesitate to hit you in the shoulder with it, whining at how romantic the setting was, and you giggle loudly as your spoon falls from your bucket of ice cream onto the floor, the metal clanging against the marble tiles. For a few moments, you forget about your lingering thoughts, phone abandoned in your room upstairs, sitting on the cold wood of your vanity’s table.
“Oh gosh,” Irene jumps to her feet when she looks out the window after the two of you finish your third movie. The rain pangs against your window pane harshly, coating the glass in thick rainwater. “It’s raining so hard, I should call my chauffeur.”
“Just stay over,” you tell her, still seated on the couch. Your home is like her second home, and her home was your second home; the two of you grew up surrounded by each other’s childhood, so her sleeping over isn’t anything new. “You can call in your chauffeur tomorrow, it’s raining really hard.”
She lets out a sigh. “I know, but I have to get up super early tomorrow in time for my bridesmaid’s gown fittings,” she takes a hand through her hair as she fishes for her phone in her pocket, hitting the contact for her chauffeur on her screen. She holds it to her ear, and apologetically, asks for them to pick her up from your home. After apologizing profusely and thanking them through her phone, she ends the call and lets out another sigh, grabbing her coat that she had splayed over the arm of your couch. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
You frown, but nod, standing up as you grab the empty buckets of ice cream on the coffee table and push your feet into your slippers. You head to the kitchen to dispose of the garbage and to wash the two spoons before putting them in the rack to dry. Your maids weren’t home, as it is a Saturday once again - you favoured cleaning your home though - although it was rather large, you find it relaxing. As the few minutes pass by, Irene’s ride has arrived at the front of your doors; she gives you a warm embrace before she takes her leave.
“Remember what I said, okay?” she reminds you of her words in your bedroom, to trust her with anything, and you nod once.
“Of course,” you tell her. “Have a safe drive home, alright?”
When you close your door, you let out another sigh as the silence of your home overtakes your presence. The juxtaposition of the hustle and bustle of the nearby city, hearing honks of cars in the distance, is ironic to you as you head back to your kitchen; you felt as if you were isolated from the outside world. Having grown sheltered, with only a few close friends in order to protect your reputation, you’ve naturally become a homebody - when you’re not travelling for your own interests or for affairs pertaining to your job, you’re almost always found at home, sitting in silence.
You sigh as you take out a nearly empty bottle of domaine de la romanée-cont from one of the cupboards in your kitchen, pouring just a little into a glass that you’ve found in another cupboard. Your mind flashes back to Jung Jaehyun once again, wondering if he’s enjoying his birthday, if he’s enjoying his Valentine’s day, pondering on why he hasn’t contacted you since you last met. You think, perhaps Irene’s words at the beginning were correct - he’s had his fun with you, and now he’s left you to pick up what he’s left behind; you quickly push the subject from your mind. After downing a sip of your wine, you dispose the glass into the sink, not bothering to wash it, opting to do it tomorrow, your mind occupied with getting ready for bed. Just as you turn into your entrance hallway to walk up the stairs towards your room, your doorbell rings. You let out a hum - Irene must have forgotten an item of hers before leaving. Your fuzzy slippers swish against the floor as you walk towards the white door, unlocking the latch before pulling the heavy door open. You part your lips to greet Irene, but what comes falling past your lips is a gasp instead, the sight of Jaehyun standing on your porch a shock to you.
His ash blonde hair is doused with rain water, droplets falling from the wet strands and kissing his shoulders, adorned in Saint Laurent that clings to his skin tautly. He’s panting, as if he had ran all the way to your house, and at the sight of his chest rising and falling rapidly, you believe that that’s exactly what he did. He steps into your home, his frigid, wet hands automatically cupping your face before he pulls you towards him, your lips crashing into his cold ones in desperation and ache. For only a fleeting moment, you melt into his kiss, but quickly regain your composure, pulling away from him.
“What are you doing here?” you question him, pushing his wet hair away from his face. You look into his eyes, they seem red and swollen - like he’s been crying.
“I came to see you.” he answers you, voice aberrantly frail - his breath is shaking with each inhale and exhale he takes. “I missed you.”
“Jaehyun, what’s wrong?” you whisper, wondering why he’s acting this way - it’s his birthday, he should be happy, yet he seems so desolate, so crushed. “Have you been crying?”
“Darling, please,” his voice is hushed, cold hands still cupping your cheeks as he searches your eyes. “I… I can’t tell you yet.”
“Why?” you urge him on, desperate to know more about what he’s feeling, about what he’s thinking.
“I… I just can’t,” for the first time, he’s unable to come up with an answer to your questions - the doom in your stomach pools even deeper, but you hold onto the last lingering hope that burns in your heart. “Please, I just need you. I need you right now. I need you badly.”
It’s humiliating how simple words that slip past his lips could cause you to obey so quickly, pulling him in for a deeper kiss as he closes the door behind him. Your lips crash against each other in a flurry of teeth and tongue while he grabs your ass, urging you to jump, before wrapping your legs around him. In haste, he carries you up the stairs, memorizing where to go after having been in your home several times in the same circumstances, before throwing you onto your bed.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, kissing down your neck while he undoes the lace that ties your silk robe adorning your body. He unclasps your bra quickly, and you let out a sigh when he uncovers your chest, his tongue kissing the valley between your breasts before slowly enveloping his tongue around one of your nipples. “So fucking beautiful, so fucking innocent, so fucking good to me.”
You run your fingers through his drenched locks, brushing them back away from his face as his tongue flicks over your sensitive nipple repeatedly, his other hand doing the same to the other one, rolling the nub with the pad of his thumb. The sight in front of you, Jaehyun’s dark eyes boring into yours while his lips are occupied with your breasts, is breathtaking; your thighs press together intuitively, but once his free hand lets go of your breast, he gently pushes them apart.
“Jaehyun.” you whisper when you feel his hand slip past the waistband of your shorts and panties, middle finger toying with your clit. He continues to lap at your nipple in circular motions, the sensation of his touch against your nubs causing you to breathe heavily. Slick with your juices, he dips a finger into you, watching your face when his middle finger penetrates you core. You let out a whine, an aching desire for his girth not met by his single finger, but it grazes against your spot which causes your whine to break into a whimper.
“So sensitive, always so fucking tight,” he pulls away from your breast, taking off his drenched shirt before kneeling lower to position his face in front of your sopping heat, slowly beginning to pull your shorts and panties down. In just a few minutes, you had already become drenched with lust underneath Jaehyun’s touch, heat rising in your cheeks when you feel his lips peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs. “I’ll take care of you tonight, darling.”
You still haven’t grown used to the pleasurable sensation of his tongue against your folds, finding yourself gasping in shock every time you feel him lick a strip against your opening. Your hands automatically find their way enlaced in his wet locks, bucking your hips against his face when his tongue grazes your clit. He pushes your legs further apart, lewd noises emitting from his mouth and your sopping core, hushed by the heavy rain hammering against the walls of your home.
“Jae!” you let out a sharp gasp when you feel his tongue dip inside you, your fist clenching his hair to bring him closer as a low chuckle emits from his throat. Usually, he’d pull away and taunt you for being so eager, and continue to tease you by barely paying attention to the spot you needed him the most, but tonight, he continues to fuck his tongue into you, grip on your thighs to spread your legs apart burning. “Shit, that feels so fucking good!”
He replaces his warm tongue with two of his fingers, coated in a thin sheen of saliva before he pushes into you, tongue lapping at your clit. He knows your body so well, he knows what to do to push you over the edge and now, in just a few minutes, he’s already got you on the brink of your first orgasm.
“Jaehyun, fuck!” you scream as he rapidly fucks his fingers into you, tongue violent against your clit. You spasm around his fingers, tugging at his scalp as your hips begin to tremble. He continues to fuck you, eyes casted downwards towards your fucked cunt, focused on bringing you over the edge. He pumps his fingers in and out of you at a quick speed, his digits disappearing inside of you one last time before you scream once more. “Shit, I’m cumming!”
He slows his fingers down as you come apart around his digits, finger fucking you through your orgasm. As you let out one last sigh, he pulls his fingers out, wet with your lust, before climbing back up to your face to kiss you, lips wet with saliva and your juices. He moans into the kiss, hands needy as they knead your breasts, his tongue entering your mouth hotly. You flip your bodies over, you on top of him now, his hands moving down your waist to cup your ass.
You lean back and he watches you with adoration - your heart flips in your chest for only a moment before lust fills your mind again when you feel his stiff cock against your thigh through his jeans. You move down, your turn to kneel on the floor in front of him as you begin to undo his pants. He watches you with his teeth buried in his bottom teeth, brushing your hair away from your face as you pull his cock from his boxers. You let out a breathy giggle at how pink his throbbing tip is before circling your tongue around it, earning a hiss from him before you fully engorge it into your mouth.
“Fuck, yes,” he grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better view of you wrapping your lips around his cock, raking his hands through your hair. “Yes, just like that, suck my cock just like that.”
He goes crazy at the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the sight is enough to nearly push him over the edge - your innocent eyes, your hands that clutch at his every time you pump your mouth into him deeper, the way your eyebrows furrow when you gag on his tip. “So beautiful,” he whispers, his thumb caressing your cheek, a sweet act that juxtaposes the situation. “Just like that, your pretty mouth takes my cock so well.”
You continue to suck his cock, your hands pumping the parts you aren’t able to reach - you can almost feel how desperate he is every time his tip hits the back of your throat, the throbbing clear. You weren’t used to Jaehyun being needy like this, being so gentle, taking his time - but the thought made you excited.
“Shit,” he grunts when you pull away from his cock with a pop, moving your head lower to pay attention to his balls before licking a strip up his shaft. Just as you are about to wrap your lips around his cock again, he sits up, cupping your face. “Fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that.”
His lips find yours once again and this time, he’s the one to flip the both of you over. He rids of his jeans that had pooled around his ankles before he climbs into your bed, hovering above you as you spread your legs open, aching for him to finally be inside of you. You had waited for him for a week, you yearned for his presence all those days - and now you were finally being filled by the man you wished for.
He slides his cock deep inside of your cunt before he begins to move his hips slowly, leaning forward to attach his lips to yours. You could never get enough of his cock, it was as if he was made to fit inside you just right, his tip grazing against your g-spot repeatedly as his tongue dances with yours. You moan into each other’s mouths, your bedroom filled with obscene sounds of saliva and skin slapping against skin.
“Mine,” he whispers against your neck when he pulls away, hips gently rocking against yours. His cock hits you in just the right places, whines emitting from your lips as he continues to speak. “I want you to be mine.”
“I am,” you answer, wrapping your legs around his hips in an effort to get him to thrust deeper. He nips at the skin of your neck as he ruts into you. “I’m yours, Jaehyun. I’m all yours.”
Jaehyun doesn’t answer, only responding in deep groans, as he leans back to grab your legs, pulling them over his shoulder to find a better angle in fucking you. When he leans back, you’re almost certain you see tears formed in his eyes, but with you hips slightly lifted from your bed, the angle proving perfect as his cock hits your g-spot even more accurately, you find your thoughts slipping out of your mind when your muffled whines to turn into louder mewls.
“Jaehyun!” you gasp loudly when he begins to pick up the pace, fingers gripping onto the skin of your thighs so hard that you’re sure they’ll leave marks the next day. You feel your walls begin to spasm around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your vision slowly begins to turn into a blur. “Jaehyun, I’m going to cum! Fuck!”
“Don’t cum yet, baby,” he says through strained grunts. “I want to cum together. You’re on the pill right?”
You let out a meek yes as you attempt to hold your orgasm under wraps, finding it hard to do so as the tip of Jaehyun’s cock hits your spot over and over again - your body felt numb and all you wanted to do was to let go, your blurry vision suddenly becoming decorated with stars. “J-Jaehyun, I-I can’t hold it.”
“Yes you can, darling,” he cooed, bringing a hand down to draw circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. The action has your legs trembling, breath hitching in your throat at the overpowering sensation takes your body. “Hold it for me, you can hold it right? You’re so fucking good to me, that’s why.”
“Jaehyun!” you let out a ripping scream, loud enough to hear it reverberate out your opened bedroom door and down the hallway. Tears begin to form on your waterline at the frustration of your waning orgasm as well as the desperation to let go, letting out a sob as he continues to fuck into you savagely. He drives into your pussy with full force repeatedly, pulling all the way out and snapping back in, and you find it so hard to keep your orgasm under control. “Jaehyun, please!”
“Fuck, baby,” he moans loudly, feeling your walls spasming around him in a frenzy. “Fuck, I love you so fucking much, fuck, cum for me. Cum for me, darling.”
And you do as he says, finally letting go of your built up orgasm, the sensation ripping through your nerves and causing you to see an entire galaxy behind the darkness of your eyes. The tips of your fingers and toes burnt as if flames kissed them and your body is both sore and numb but with the greatest pleasure. Through the fog, you feel Jaehyun continuing to thrust his cock into you before stalling deep inside your core, spurts of his cum shooting into you and filling you up before he pulls out, streaks of white pouring out after him.
The both of you come to, panting heavily, before his lips fall onto yours once again, bringing you into a passionate kiss. His lips are familiar to you now, and you cannot even begin to think of a time where they didn’t belong to you. He wraps his arms around you to bring you closer, head resting against your plush pillows before he pulls away. There’s a stray tear that falls from his eye, and you are unsure why it is there.
“I love you, (Y/N),” he whispers, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.”
“I love you too, Jung Jaehyun,” you whisper, a smile forming on your face, kissing his forehead. The words feel right when they leave your lips, as if they were meant to be said by you and to be heard by him. “Happy birthday, my love.”
You press your lips against his for the final time that night, the electricity clear through the air when he relaxes into you. He smelled like roses, he felt like warmth, and he moved like honey. When you pull away with a gentle smile formed on your face, your thumb wipes away his stray tear, unknowing of the burning pain that had formed them in the first place.
——-
Waking up to the absence of Jaehyun’s warmth, the bare sheets holding nothing but the outline of his form, is nothing new to you to start the day with - often, after your affairs at night, the moment sunlight cracks through the night sky, Jaehyun would rise early to sneak back into his own estate in order to avoid a quarrelsome conversation with his father. Instead of waking up with his arms wrapped around your form and kisses against your forehead, you’d only be met with the kisses of sunlight that slips through your creme curtains grazing against your skin, and although you can’t deny the slight disappointment that brews in your stomach at the sight of his absence, you wholly feel a bit relieved every time you’d come to find a note that he’d left you just before taking his leave.
Recalling your memories of the night prior isn’t an activity that you’re new to, either; you rejoice in the ghost touches left by their former presence as you reply the scenes of pleasure in your mind - Jaehyun’s lips against yours, tongues dancing together like wild flames, his hips rocking into you and fervent as if he wanted to become one with you. As your memories of the night before come to an end, your heart beat waned slightly upon remembering the way Jaehyun had acted. You recall the sight of tears lining his waterline, eyes red and movement filled with desperation and longing. You had fallen asleep before you were able to ask him about it, and he had left far too quickly for you to ask him after waking up.
When you tossed your legs over the edge of your plush mattress, the pads of your feet meeting the carpeted flooring, you had glanced towards your bedside table to see if Jaehyun had left you a note that morning, excitement bubbling in your stomach; the notes that he’d leave for you to read in the morning would range from the most romantic poetry, nothing but sweet nothings written on the page, to the most obscene, filthy string of words, degrading scenarios that he wishes to act upon the next time he sees you which would usually cause a throb to emit in your core early in the morning. Upon looking at your table that morning, though, your bedside table was empty; nothing but your usual reading lamp and phone resting atop the wood. You had furrowed your brows together in confusion at first before pushing the thought out of your mind, deciding not to ponder too much about it. Instead, you eyed your sleeping phone on the table, the device rousing awake with a text notification that had you reaching for it automatically. You had hoped it were the man in question that had occupied your mind since waking up, but you were met with a mere sigh when you see that it’s just your manager, reminding you of the day’s itinerary.
Another day, another gala that you had to attend, and although this gala may prove to be important to your rise to the head seat of Decoré, you couldn’t help but feel tired of the constant jubilees you had to go to. Since returning back to Seoul from your short trip to California to overlook your boutique’s Los Angeles branch for your mother, you had delved into the planning and designing of your first few clothing pieces - you were excited, you truly were, since you had notebooks upon notebooks filled with your sketches and ideas for clothing pieces that ranged from gowns to the most simplest scarves. Yet, nervousness and apprehension is what eats at your stomach when you realize that your first ever piece, a gown the tone of lavender made entirely of tulle and lace, strewn with colourful flowers as if the sheer fabric had been dragged through a garden, is making its debut tonight. You were unsure what the event is for, only having heard from your mother that it reigns important for the history of Decoré; you knew what she really meant - it brings the company vast amounts of money. Even now, when you sit in a rounded table in the venue with Irene by your side, who had accompanied you for your own encouragement, you can’t seem to stop your fingers from twirling the glass stem that holds your wine.
“Irene,” you concur to your best friend, gulping down vast amounts the liquor Irene had fished for you. Your other hand was preoccupied from fisting at the Christian Dior dress that adorned your body, the strewn golden pendants that hung against the noir silk digging into the skin of your palms. Irene’s hands find their way to yours, snaking her fingers through yours for comfort as she looks at you worriedly. It isn’t that Irene’s presence doesn’t give you a sense of peace, because she’s been slightly successful at her attempts of giving you comfort since the night had started, but perhaps if your mother was here you’d feel a lot more at ease - but, evidently, the weather in New York seems to disregard your feelings, cancelling your mother’s flight back to Seoul that morning. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Yes you can, (Y/N),” Irene says in a hushed whisper, careful that other patrons that attended the jubilee won’t bear witness to a future chief executive going through a mild breakdown. She rubs the back of your palm with “You’ve dreamt of this all your life, and you worked so hard on creating this dress. Once the dress is revealed, your weariness will go away, I promise.”
You let out a deep breath at her words, genuinely thankful that she’s there by your side to help you. As you gulp, you nod at her. “Okay,” you huff. “You’re right… you’re right. I can do this.”
The gala itself is nothing different from other galas you’ve been to - men dressed in their uniform fashion of black and white suit and ties, ladies dressed with the most expensive fabric that sweeps against the floor coupled with their moussed hair and glamorous eye makeup. Unlike most events that you’ve attended, the people that sit around different circular tables housing wine glasses in their palms are unfamiliar to you - you grew up in a social network underneath your mother’s doing, Irene is a part of it, Lucas, who you had met formally several months ago by virtue of your mother, is also a part of it; each and every gala you have been to were filled with people you or your mother knew of - so the unknown characters around you right now, coupled with the unrevealing of your first ever design, ultimately terrifies you. You can pick out a few faces; Irene, of course, your manager, who had been gracing the dessert table for the past hour, and two of your stylists who continuously kept an eye on your hand that had gone back to fisting at the fabric of your dress, weary at wrinkles.
“(Y/N)?” a familiar voice rings which causes your ear to perk, turning your head to the direction of the tall jolly man who lugs his shorter husband around, and another boy, a much younger boy, follows behind the both of them. Johnny has a quizzical look on his face, as if he were pondering the reason on why you were present - you must have had the same expression too, because he lets out laughter. “It’s peculiar to see you at an event such as this.”
“I should say the same to you, Johnny.” you say, hand relaxing in Irene’s clasp. She relaxes her fingers and lets your hand go, consequently wiping her hands with a napkin as she makes a teasing quip about how clammy your hands are. You let out a pout at her comment before turning back around towards Johnny - this doesn’t seem like an event he would usually attend as well; he’s more of a youthful socialite gathering type of man, even more peculiar that he’d bring his husband along as well. “Ten, nice to see you again!”
Ten rings out a smile to you as he leans down to give you a hug, before taking a seat at your table. The younger man who follows behind the two of them is a little awkward in stance, but he doesn’t fail to give you a warm, dashing smile, a calming grin stretched out on his face.
“I’m Jaemin,” he introduces himself, reaching his hand out for a handshake. “You must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N) - Jaehyun and Johnny talk about you a lot.”
“Is that so?” you let out a laugh, quirking your eyebrows at Johnny who gives you a deadpan look, causing you to giggle. “But it’s very nice to finally meet you, Jaemin!”
The five of you drown the droning sound of classical music through small-chatter, catching up with each other from the past few weeks. Jaemin is a kind boy - charming, but level-headed and mature, he seemed wise beyond his years, and his manners were prim and proper. For a fleeting moment, you had wondered where he had gotten his personality from, seeing as Johnny is a loud, silly man while Jaehyun was more enigmatically rambunctious, but you push the thought out of your head. You think about what he had said when introducing himself to you - Jaehyun talked about you to him?
“So, when is the wedding, Irene?” Ten asks as he sinks the teeth of his fork into a red velvet cheesecake, sliding the fragment it into his mouth before setting his fork back down on the plate.
“You’ll find out through the invitation cards,” Irene gives him a kilowatt smile, her eyes softening at the mention of the future event. “But it will be next Spring - we have yet to decide where the venue shall be, but when we do, like I said before, you’ll find out through the invitation cards.”
“Oh, to be married,” Johnny cooed teasingly, as if he weren’t sitting next to his husband. “What a wonderful thing to imagine - finally becoming one with the love of your life during a beautiful ceremony. One can only dream.”
“Johnny Suh,” Ten deadpans, causing you and Irene to let out giggles. “I will not hesitate to shove this entire cake down your mouth, if that’s what you’re trying to hint at.”
Johnny lets out a loud laughing, bringing his husband close for a hug as the shorter man, pouting, takes another bite out of his cheesecake. “I’m just joking,” Johnny says. “Being married to you is like a dream for me every single day.”
You watch the couple with admiration as they slowly begin to begin to chatter into their own world, gentle smiles and soft gazes exchanged between them; you’ve grown used to seeing the people around you amorous with their partners, but you still cannot deny the feeling of envy that creeps up in your stomach every time you were faced with a happy couple. It’s not that you want them to break up, because you would never wish for a beautiful pairing to split, no matter who they are, but it’s because you’ve still yet to find the one who could bring you into your own little world. You tear your gaze away from them to let them have their own privacy, bringing your attention to your fingers decorated with rings that range from Daniel Villegas to Swarovski, but an emptiness pools in your heart when you realize none of them truly holds a significant meaning to you.
For a fleeting moment, Jaehyun’s face flashes in your mind, but you push it out of your thoughts as quickly as it had arrived.
You quickly come to when you hear the dull tapping of a mic blare throughout the grand hall, a hush falling over the attendees as they redirect their attention towards the front of the venue, towards the mini platform that had housed the mini orchestra. Two men stand atop the platform, each clad in a dark grey suits by Johnston; you squint your eyes just slightly in order to make out their faces against the harsh spotlight that had shone onto them. One man seemed familiar, his hair greying and thinning, wrinkles of age outstretching the skin of his face, and you identify him as Mr. Jung, whom you met at the politician’s event last week. You are quizzical as to why they are here, wondering if this was a gala hosted by the Jung family. As you wondered, your eyes turn to the man beside him, only to find his eyes already on you.
You gasped slightly when you see Jung Jaehyun, the ash blonde tone of his hair long gone and replaced with jet black locks, slicked away from his forehead and styled much like the first time you had seen him - he stands tall, as he always does, hands firm at his side and facial features juxtaposing each other as if he were modern art, but his eyes, the eyes that you’ve grown used to seeing desire, confidence, and adoration, are instead filled with nothing but alarm. He stares at you with widened eyes, his jaw visibly tightening as he seems to stop breathing for a fleeting moment, and at his unusual gait, a sense of doom rises in your stomach.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight,” Mr. Jung’s gruff voice blares through the speakers while he holds the microphone close to his mouth. “Today is a very, very special night for Jung & Associates; a very special night for my beloved son, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun finally tears his eyes from yours to look at his father, flashes the audience a kilowatt smile, as if he hadn’t looked at you with such alarm just mere seconds ago.
“As we all know, my time as CEO of Jung & Associates has already come to an end, and I figured, with one last bang, why don’t I announce my son’s rise to the chair with a celebration?” he turns towards Jaehyun, whose lips are pressed tightly in a line. “I know that he’ll prove to be an amazing chief executive; he’s responsible, articulate, and intelligent - he is the son I have always dreamt of, and he is everything Jung & Associates has aimed for in our empire.”
You see Johnny‘s jaw clench from beside you against the dim lighting, and on the other side of the table, you see Jaemin gulp, and you couldn’t help but frown at how much pain their own father’s words must have caused the both of them. You reach out in an attempt to squeeze Johnny’s arm as a sense of comfort, as he is much closer to you physically, but a voice that causes your nerves to run wild inside of you blares through the speakers, causing you to pause mid-action and look back towards the platform.
“Thank you, father,” Jaehyun says when the older man gives him the microphone, he toys with the wire before clearing his throat, looking back into the audience. “I’m very excited for the journey I’ll be taking with Jung & Associates; this has been my dream since I was a child, so I’m really happy to be here today.”
There is a pregnant pause in the air, and he takes a hitched breath. “As well for another announcement,” Jaehyun continues. “I’m very excited to announce a new era for Jung & Associates - we have merged with Kim & Park Law, an honour as we move into a bigger empire. Helping people is what both of our firm’s prioritize, so it only felt right.“
An applause breaks out in the crowd, and politely, you clap too, although you are unsure as to what was going on. You wondered how your design was going to be shown, when it will be revealed; you should have inquired your manager before arriving - this doesn’t seem like the correct environment for a revealing.
“That being said, I have one last announcement. I’m sure all of you are wondering just why I’m talking about the future of the merge between Jung & Associates Kim & Park Law, when we’ve merged with plenty other companies in the past. Well, it’s due to the fact that the worries of the future does not only pertain to the company, but to my personal life as well,” he pauses, and he looks around the room for a fleeting moment, but when his eyes land on yours, it seems as if the moment had lasted for years. A woman, a beautiful woman of tall stature with glowing blonde hair and skin kissed slightly by the sun walks up to the platform to stand next to Jaehyun, and adorned on her form is your design, with its lavender fabric that shines against the spotlight as if it were painted onto her skin, whose flowers decals swept against the floor in youthful, yet graceful, wonder. When Jaehyun finally tears his gaze from yours to look at her, she gives him a smile filled with love, and Jaehyun, with his dimples carved deep into the corners of his mouth, smiles back.
“Chaeyoung Park, the beautiful daughter of one of the co-founder of Kim & Park Law, is to be my wife. Tonight, I am announcing our engagement.”
The doom that had been brewing in your stomach for the past few days had penetrated into your heart when the words absorb into your eardrums; the sinking feeling inside of you and the twisting pain that had erupted in your chest drowned out the applause and cheers of duress that had taken over the sound waves of the hall, your breath hitching in your throat as you wish only for the ground to swallow you whole. Johnny and Ten turn towards you, their eyes widened in horror as they open their mouths frantically, but you are unable to hear what they are saying. Irene, beside you, grabs your hand once more and rests her other one atop the back of your hand, and when you turn towards her, when you meet her heartbroken, pitiful gaze, when you realize that you and Jung Jaehyun, the man who had not only taken your opportunity of glory by taking away the attention from your first ever design, had also decided to tear your heart and soul apart in the most painful fashion.
The last thing you had remembered before your eyesight became a blur was forcefully standing up, the screeching of the legs of your chair hushed by the audience’s celebration, and walking out of the hall with Irene running after you as you will yourself to not let the tears spill past your waterline.
You come to when the moonlight that casts down into your dark bedroom causes your interior to glow ethereally; perhaps, if it were your usual day, you would stop to admire the setting - but even the most extravagant view is dust to you now as you wreak broken sobs of dismal into Irene’s comforting arms.
“He’s not worth your tears, (Y/N),” Irene comforts you, motherly hand caressing your hair as she lets you sob. She hums soothingly as she does so, your body trembling in ache. “He’s just another ignorant, immature boy. He’ll bring the end of this stupid law firm while you’ll continue to reign with Decoré.”
“It hurts so much, Irene,” you sob into the fabric of her Elie Saab garment, guilty that you’re staining the silk with your heartbroken tears. “My heart hurts so much, he told me he loved me just last night and I told him I loved him back. I should have listened to you, how could I have trusted him? How could I be so thoughtless?”
“Shh,” Irene’s voice is soothing as she pushes you back to look at your face. “I will say, I did warn you. However, you can’t control your curiosity nor who you love, (Y/N). And yes, although you fell in love with a man of whom I want to do nothing else to but murder, you were not being thoughtless. You just did what you thought was right.”
“Nothing I did was right,” you wipe the tears that streamed down your face. “If I did what was right, then I would have never caught sight of him that first night, then I would have never met Johnny, then I would have never kept running into him in different countries, and I would have never fallen in love with him.”
She tucks a hair behind your ear before wiping your tears with her thumb, smearing some of your mascara and eyeliner underneath your red, swollen eyes. She smiles with a bittersweetness. “Everything happens for a reason, (Y/N).”
You change out of your dress, hem stained by grass and dirt marks from walking carelessly through the front garden towards the entrance when you were leaving the gala, and Irene stays outside your door as she informs Seokjin that she’ll be staying over at your home. She doesn’t tell her fiancé what had happened, deciding to keep it a secret between the two of you, and Johnny and Ten. You let out a sigh as you remember the two men’s shocked faces when they had turned to you, anger and denial clear in their faces; were you and Jaehyun not as discreet as you had thought? Your stomach twisted in pain when you think of more options; had Jaehyun lied to you about keeping it a secret?
“Irene?” your voice is meek when you reach out to her arm as the two of you lay beside each other in your plush bed hours after your sobbing had calmed down. She hums, flipping her sleeping mask away from her eyes as she looks at you. “How did you know about Jaehyun and I?”
She waits for a few seconds, as if pondering on what to say. “The tension between the two of you was claustrophobic,” she says after a few seconds. “You also both held these... certain gazes towards each other. Gazes that I gave Seokjin when I pined for him, and gazes that I still give him now.”
Your stomach twists once more as tears spring against your waterline. Perhaps asking wasn’t the correct decision. You sniff, in an attempt to calm your emotions. “Oh.”
“It’ll be okay, (Y/N),” Irene sighs, her hand on top of yours in an effort to comfort you, acknowledging your shaking voice. “It will be hard, but you can find a better man. A better man than Jaehyun had ever been.”
“Of course.” you whisper. “Goodnight, Irene.”
“Goodnight.”
Later that night, when Irene’s soft snoring emits from her form beside you, you reach for your phone that slept against your bedside table. When you rouse it awake, a dull pain seeps into your heart at the sight of the notifications that lined your screen; all of them were from Jaehyun. A tear escapes your eyes as you unlock your device, willing yourself to not read the countless messages he had sent you, almost enraged at his ignorance for even thinking of doing such a thing - was it his goal to mock you, to taunt you of how your body was under control of his lips?
You think back on his actions towards you for the past year you’ve been aware of his existence, filled with aching eyes and desired touches, small exchanges of soft smiles and slight smirks. Had that all just been an act, for him? Had he looked at you with lust, only to go back home and give his girlfriend, his fiancée, the same ones - only this time, with authentic emotions? Had he spent the last year making it seem as if he were the one pining after you, when in reality, you were the one that had those feelings? Had he doused the three words he said on your last affair in a brew of lies before letting them absorb into your eardrums? Had wickedness glowed in his heart when you uttered the same three words back?
Because, as you continue upon thinking more about the situation, late that night, you realize that his fiancée was not the one that hurt you - she probably had no clue about all of this, just as you had been.
You were the other woman.
Your heart clenches in your chest sending a wreck of pain through your nerves, biting your lip to muffle back a broken sob as thoughts fly into your mind at a pace you had never encountered before.
Jung Jaehyun knew you; he knew all your secrets when you uttered them in his ear when you would lay next to him in bed, he knew of your quirks that would slip out when trying to keep your relations discreet in the public eye, he knew of the facade that you would put up after stepping past the gates of your house, he knew what your body liked and craved and how to get you to slip over the edge when he would fuck you, he knew of your goals, he knew of your wishes, he knew of your desire for love and marriage - but you knew nothing about Jung Jaehyun.
You swallow once in an attempt to calm the increasing regret that begins to fill your stomach before tapping your screen one final time that night, the block button that sits underneath his contact emitting a light blue before his number finally disappears from your device, deleting your text conversations, erasing every lingering retention of Jung Jaehyun.
-----
The plain taste of water fills your mouth and you think to yourself, perhaps you should have ordered a much more tasteful drink to accompany the savoury meal in front of you, of different breads, seasonings and pastas. Your shoulders are straight as you sit in the chair of crushed velvet, corset at a comfortable tightness as you keep a watchful gaze on the people around you. A sigh escapes your mouth when you spot a lovely couple seated a few seats away from you, hands outstretched and on top of each other against the wooden table, love full in their eyes as they gazed at each other in admiration.
Perhaps coming here was the wrong idea.
Three years ago, you were brought to the chair of Decoré after the sudden passing of your mother, a tragic event that graced headlines much to your grief in utter remembrance - the year of her death was an ache to you, every person you turned to would bring it up, which would only spark tears in your eyes and pain in your chest. Becoming used to the chair was not an easy task at all either, having to give up the modelling career that you had forged from a young age in order to focus fully on the company’s strings - and you didn’t have your mother to help you either. As the years went by, you formed into a different woman; long gone was the girl who put a mask in front of the public in order to keep her reputation spotless, long gone was the girl who calculated her movements in order to keep an outrage from sparking - however, sometimes, when all the lights in your lonesome penthouse are turned off and all you can hear is the distant buzz of the streets below, you would silently cry to yourself, wishing like a child that everything hadn’t changed so drastically.
You and Irene are still in contact, as close as ever, and you had the will to have invited you on your trip - but due to her growing family and growing pregnant belly, she was most likely unable to accompany you on your planned rendezvous’ these recent days; Johnny, ever the positive man, also continued to contact you as well, albeit sparsely - but the incident that had happened caused a strain to form on your friendship - he treated you like a ticking time bomb, careful with his words in order to not let a memory spring in your mind. Last you heard, he had adopted two little twin girls with his husband. You, on the other hand, admittedly have had your nights of pleasure, hooking up with random men dressed in fancy custom suits that you’d meet at random lounges and events, but they were never serious. They would always leave right after your affair ends. Your ring finger bears no band, and you’re unsure if it ever will.
Presently, you sit at a lounge, someplace in Milan, celebrating the opening of a new boutique in your favoured city, lonesome. In due fairness, you were planning to ask your secretaries and closest employees to accompany you, but after the hard work they had put into opening the new branch in a foreign country, you opted to give them the rest of the day off instead. As crowds of people chatted amongst themselves in duress, all you can do is sip hesitantly at your water and pick at your food, regretting the idea of coming here alone. It seems as the universe is mocking you, as well, decorations of hearts and and cupids littered against the walls of the restaurant, as today is Valentine’s day - everyone around you is on a date, perhaps their first or one of many, and you are sitting there, alone, completely out of place.
Yes, coming here was definitely the wrong idea.
Yet, you couldn’t bear to let the food you had ordered and had people put their backbone into making to go to waste, so instead of standing up to retrieve your tweed coat hung on the backrest of your chair, you continue to eat quietly, by yourself, underneath the guise of being distracted by your phone screen. As you ponder about the what-ifs, thinking about having ordering room service from the comfort of your hotel room instead, a waitress props a tall, skinny glass of a familiar liquid in front of you.
“Domaine de la romanée-cont, Ms. (Y/L/N),” she greets you with a gracious smile, bowing her head slightly. “From the gentleman at the bar.”
You furrow your eyebrows together in bewilderment at the glass before thanking the waitress and sending her on her way. You study the flute intently, gazing at it’s red liquid that seemed to glow against the yellow lighting of the restaurant, before wrapping your fingers around it to take it towards your lips. The bitter taste of domaine de la romanée-cont graces your taste buds when the liquid engulfs your mouth and you think to yourself, perhaps the theory of a maturing palate is true, you do not favour the taste of the wine that you would eagerly look for at events when you were younger and in your old household - but it also brings another memory to you, a distant recalling, eyes that you have not looked into for the past few years embedding into your brain when the taste hits your tongue.
Jung Jaehyun is a distant name to you now, the taste of his name slipping off your tongue becoming a foreign feeling as each day passes, fingerprints he left on your skin slowly eroding away through time. Often, you’d see his face on the screen of your television, read his name on front pages of magazines that they’d display at those corner stores you’d idly pass by, or hear his name in hushed chatter from people around you engrossed in their own conversation - but as quickly as he had nearly ingrained himself into your life once more, you’d change the channel, or flip the page, or tune out of the conversation. Although no parts of you hold no bearing of the memoirs of Jung Jaehyun, sometimes, you’d find yourself laying awake at night, wishing for the memories that still lay in the cavities of your brain to come to life once again, to feel his fingerprints burn into your skin much like they had five years ago - but as a chief executive at the age of twenty-seven, all you can do is tell yourself to grow up, and force yourself to do paperwork instead of wishing for something that will never come true.
So when you spot Jung Jaehyun sat at the dark mahogany bar after looking for the man who had paid for this drink, with his umber eyes boring into yours, you are unsure on how to act.
He is as beautiful as the first time you laid eyes on him, his facial features a stunning juxtaposition as the dim overhead lighting of the bar accentuates his sleek cheeks and soft jawline, his sharp lips and soft, brown eyes. His hair, remaining a jet-black, much like the first time that you had seen him, is brushed over his forehead messily. He wears a simple white button up shirt, the first two buttons undone, tucked into a pair of black trousers adorned with a belt. On his wrist, as he cradles a glass of champagne as he watches you, is a golden watch from Louis Vuitton, His mouth is pulled into a straight line, and in his eyes, hold observe, as if he were waiting for how you would react. Even now, when he approaches you and sits in the chair opposite from yours, his eyes still hold a deep meaning.
Upon meeting his eye, it seems as if all the memories you have buried deep into your brain becomes uncovered, images flashing before your eyes in montages like an old film movie; his eyes gazing into yours with desire, fingers pressing into your skin as to leave a crater of himself on your form, lips ghosting the crook of your neck when he used to roll his hips into you - the act alone is enough to make you gasp from both shock and hurt, tears slightly beginning to tease your waterline, but you take note of the environment around you and decide that you shouldn’t act out.
“Jung Jaehyun,” you finally speak, keeping your tone unwavering. “It’s been a while.”
“It has.” he speaks, setting the bottom of his glass against the white cloth. Jet black strands fall past his eyes and he brushes them back, before meeting his eyes with you again. “I hope you have been well, (Y/N).”
“I have.” you answer him, switching your gaze back and forth between his eyes - what was his goal in speaking to you like this; you do not hold an inkling of care for him as you once did, was his plan to taunt you of your old affairs? You decide not to thank him on his greeting, nor return it, and continue to speak venomously. “Why are you here?”
He seems taken aback from your blunt answers, stilling for only a fleeting moment before parting his lips again. “I’m here to oversee the Milan branch,” he answers you in a strain. “I was just enjoying a night out when I saw you, and I wanted to greet you again.”
“Alright.” you simply give him a simper, setting your fork down before you push the avoided glass of domaine de la romanée-cont towards him. He watched your action with puzzled eyes. “I don’t like the taste of this wine anymore; you should have just kept your money in your pocket.”
“Oh,” is all he could say. “I’m sorry.”
You don’t say anything, instead, you begin to pack up your belongings into your purse, quickly arranging the utensils of the finished meal in front of you to help the waitresses clean your table easier for when you leave. You avoid his gaze when you finally stand up, taking your tweed coat hanging off the backrest of your seat and sliding it on, brushing your hair out from being tucked into it.
“Goodbye, Mr. Jung.” you tell him, still not attempting to hold his watchful eye as you turn on your heel and walked towards the exit, not wanting to hear any words slip past his lips. You are appalled, could a man really be so ignorant, to attempt to mock you in front of your face, even years later? Perhaps he still held himself in high regard from the past, and though a small part of you wreaks with hurt, slight tears springing to your eyes when the February air kisses your cheeks as you walk past the doors, anger still continues to move through your nerves.
“(Y/N),” you hear his voice following after you as you walk through the cobblestone walkways, the calm waters of the Navigli canal that was located right at the exit juxtaposing the emotions that stir inside of you at the sound of his voice. “Please, I just want to talk.”
You continue to walk away from him, hearing his fast footsteps a few meters behind yours. “You had the chance to talk to me years ago before that night.” you simply say, pushing your hands into the pockets of your coat from the cold air. “I’m afraid you’ve lost your chance.”
“(Y/N),” he sighs, and you hear him begin to jog to your side, and once he comes into view, all you can do is bump past him in a fit of aggravation. “Please, listen to me. Just let me talk.”
“I don’t have time to talk. I run a company. Don’t you?” you say in a hard tone. You hear his footsteps come to a stop and you let out a relieved sigh at the thought - you just wanted to leave past him and never see him again, just as he had done to you all those years ago; his voice causes you to halt, just seconds later.
“I do not.” his voice is a few meters away from you but the tone of his voice causes your step to falter, and you widen your eyes at the discovery.
You furrow your eyebrows together before pivoting on his heel to face him, finding his form closer to your body than you had anticipated. “What do you mean?”
“Jung & Associates isn’t under my command anymore. I gave up the position to my youngest brother, Jaemin, who was more ready than I ever was,” he tells you, eyes dark, voice genuine, but the wall that has built before your heart causes your form to stay rigid. “Have you not seen the articles going around, (Y/N)? I did this nearly two years ago. I want no responsibility of the sort - father nearly kicked me out of the family for my choices, but I’m just Jung Jaehyun now.”
You weigh the options of believing him and avoiding his words for a few seconds, opting for the latter as you let out a scoff. The calm waters beside the two of your forms stays moving in slow waves. “Don’t expect me to believe your lies, Jaehyun.”
“I’m not lying.” he says. “I have never lied to you.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” you spit, and a sense of hurt flashes in his eyes - you want to slap him, how dare he feel hurt at your words when he’s caused you greater hurt than you’ve ever felt. “How can you expect me to believe you when everything we’ve ever done together was based on false words?”
“Don’t say that, (Y/N),” he says, reaching out towards you but you slap his hand away - retracting his arm as more pain pools into his pupils. You feel the tears finally begin to tease your waterline the moment you had touched him, letting out a soft cry. “What we had was real, and you know that.”
“No, it wasn’t.” you tell him, attempting to keep your tone unwavering. “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me again, Jung Jaehyun. I was the other woman, and you never had the audacity to tell me. You never had the audacity to at least give me the chance to end whatever... we were.”
“(Y/N).” he says, simply, but you only tear your eyes off of him, letting out a sigh of annoyance as you look at the calm waters of the canal beside you.
”Please, just leave me be. Don’t you have a wife to take care of?”
“I don’t,” he tells you, and his words cause you to look at him again with puzzled eyes. He parts his lips again to speak. “Me and Chaeyoung were engaged under business terms - it was never real between us, I couldn’t bare marrying a woman I didn’t love, nor could she, so I ended the merge and our engagement, which cut my ties to the chair.”
You let out a breath at listening to him, eyes falling downcast to the ground, attempting to keep the tears from slipping down your cheeks, but you fail, the streaks hot against your face against the cool air.
“Why would you do that?” you ask him in a hushed tone.
He whispers back. “Life is a risk, isn’t it?”
Silence seduces the air between the two of you for a few seconds, the only sounds heard is the distant soundtrack of cars moving past the roads and the slight sloshing of the bed of water beside the two of you. His shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath, and then he parts his lips open.
“The first time I saw you,” he says, taking a step towards you before bringing a hand up to wipe your tears from your face, his presence so close to you. “It was at your mother’s gala, that one spring. I was there due to my father’s orders to coax your mother into having us buy Decoré. I knew who you were, after researching the revenue of your company - but when I saw you... I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I came home that night, my father was angry that I couldn’t go through one task he had asked me to do - and he gave me a choice. Buy your company, or merge with another company by marriage.”
You keep quiet, letting his words pour into your ears as you listen intently, every syllable hard hitting to your chest as you feel your stomach begin to pool with trust.
“I remember I kept bumping into you in different cities,” he lets out a soft chuckle, juxtaposing the tears that are welling up in his eyes. “Bordeaux, Cebu... I remember butterflies going wild in my stomach when I saw you at the resort in Cebu, but my mind was set. I needed to talk to you, and so I ordered you your wine, and I finally was able to.”
You let out a shaky breath as you continue to listen to him, your mind swirling with thoughts but becoming silenced when he cradles your cheek in his palm.
“And that night in Milan,” he pauses, his hands cupping your cheeks now, an action burning into your skin much like the first few times he had done it long ago. “When I saw you walking down the runway with that wedding dress, walking towards me at the end of the runway… it all just made sense.”
You gasp lightly, widening your eyes at the realization of his words, and it is at your reaction that causes his tears to finally fall from his own eyes, staining his red cheeks with wet streaks. It is an action that causes you to recall the last time you had been entangled with him, wiping his tears away as the both of you whisper the three words that you’ve become so scared of uttering.
“Do you want to know the reason why I held such detest for Johnny, all those years ago?” he asks you, and you do not answer, continuing to look at him in bewilderment. “It was because I was jealous that he could live a life freely while I could not. It was because I was jealous that he could start his own career from what he favoured to do, and I had to take on the responsibilities of the family. It was because I envied the fact that he could marry whomever he wanted,” he paused, only for a brief moment, but it felt like millennia when all you could feel at that moment was your nerves exploding at his words.
“And that I could not marry you.”
His lips are like home to you, warm against yours and sending a frenzy through your nerves, and you realize, perhaps you never really did forget the way his lips meshed against yours, and how it felt to feel his presence burn into your skin. Even as tears streamed down both of your cheeks as your lips mold into each other with both yearning and passion. You are unsure of how many moments you stand like that, still, hearing the water move beside the both of you quietly, the stars above you twinkling in their delight much like the lamp posts that litter the street, lips dancing against each other. Your hands are tangled in his hair, each strand brushing against your fingers and palms in a familiar dance, as his hands cup against your mouth - and you realize why you have grown to dislike the taste of domaine de la romanée-cont, the wine you use to favour - it’s because you have found your favourite taste in Jaehyun’s lips.
You find your hands having a mind of their own when you pull him by the collar of his coat, bringing him closer to you, and within seconds you are hastily leading him through the walkways towards your hotel. Your lips are still molded together at the front of the hotel, at the entrance of the lobby, the warm yellow lights that emit from the chandeliers inside spilling out to your forms. Perhaps, years ago, you would never do such a brash act in public - but at present, you could care less for the possible paparazzi loitering around the area, you could care less of the stares that the both of you attract when you drag him through the lobby towards the elevator shafts, stepping in, never once moving away from each other. When you pull away with panting breaths, he presses his forehead to yours, his eyes closed as his tears calm. His hands are still placed on your waist, unwilling to let go, and the both of you relish in each other’s presence for a moment, letting silence overtake you; slowly letting the other settle back into their life, dwelling themselves in the space that they had used to take.
“I want you,” he whispers, the ghost of his breath brushing against your nose as you let your hands fall from the strands of his hair and onto his cheeks. One of his hands make it on top of yours, warm against your skin. “I want you so fucking bad.”
“You have me now,” you whisper, hands trailing from his cheeks towards the hardening member underneath the fabric of his trousers. “So please ruin me.”
Both of your bodies deem impatient when the bell sounds with a ding!, announcing that the two of you had arrived to the floor of your penthouse - you are only thankful that the immediate first step from exiting the elevator is already your lounge room, discarding your coat onto the ground as you swiftly push Jaehyun further into your penthouse. His hands have transitioned from gentle touches to rougher grips, arms wrapped around your waist now, letting you lead the way as his slick tongue slips past yours. He moans into the kiss as you push him down towards the suede black couch that decorates your lounge; your knees are on both sides of him, straddling him, never once breaking your kiss. You run your fingers through his hair as he leans back against the backrest of the couch, fingers tracing down your clothed spine and then cupping your ass through the fabric of your noir Dior dress. You pull away from his lips slightly to let out a moan that had been building up since you had last seen him - you hadn’t realized how much your body ached for his touch.
“So eager...” he whispers as you pant out, his lips attaching onto your neck, reminding your skin of what his tongue had felt like. He slowly moves his hands underneath your dress, rolling the tight fabric up over your bottom, your bare-skin now exposed to the cool temperature of your penthouse. His hands are warm against your flesh before he raises his hand to smack your pad of skin lightly, the contact causing a sound to ripple through the air as you let out a soft gasp. You feel him smirk against your skin. “You like that, darling?”
The nickname that slipped past his tongue causes your core to throb, having not heard those words from him in so long - it’s laughable really, how you were still underneath Jung Jaehyun’s five years later, even after you swore never to pine for him again. Your cheeks heat up as he continues to smack your ass, leaning back now to watch your facial expressions, a smug smirk on his face. “Look at you. You like being spanked, darling?” he taunts you, and your core throbs once more.
You bite down on your lip to suppress a moan as you nod your head, his hits slowly begin to turn harder, pain burning into your skin - but you love it all; Jaehyun puts his mark onto you again, this time, they’ll never fade away. He spanks you sharply, and you let a yelp emit from your lips. “That’s it,” he grins when he hears your whine, his black hair brushing past his eyes. “Let it out, darling. Make the entire hotel know what I’m doing to you.”
You find yourself rocking your hips slowly after every spank, rutting your wet panties against the swelling hardness in Jaehyun’s trousers. You hadn’t realized what you had been doing until he lets out a low groan, craning his neck backwards at the sensation of your clothed heats grinding into each other. He grips his fingers into the flesh of your ass as you continue.
“You’re so fucking hard already,” you whisper, the outline of his cock against your core causing shudders to rake through your nerves. He bites down on his lip as his eyes flutter shut, causing you to smirk; you rut your hips faster. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone sensitive, Jaehyun. It would be such a bummer if you cum so early in our affair.”
He seems to snap back into reality at your sentence, eyes opening and craning his neck straight to look towards you, umber eyes turning a shade dark before one of his hands find their way against your clothed heat. “You’ve gotten brave,” he says in a hushed tone. “Just because I haven’t fucked you in a while doesn’t mean you can take control. That’s not how it works, darling.”
“I can take control over you whenever I wa-“ you start, but your sentence is cut short at the feeling of Jaehyun pushing your thin panties to the side before harshly pressing his long fingers into you, causing you to lean forward at the sensation that you have yearned for so long. In the corner of your eye, you see him smirk in arrogance, but you cannot say anything - not when he’s already began to fuck his finger into you. “Fuck, Jaehyun!”
“Finish your sentence.” he whispers calmly, as if his digits weren’t doing something so obscene. “You know how much I hate it when people don’t finish their sentences. You can take control of me? Is that what you were gonna say?”
“J-Jaehyun!” you mewl, legs buckling as you lose your balance on top of him, your hips having a mind of their own as you begin to rock your hips against his fingers. He moves you swiftly, so that your back is against his chest, legs spread with the help of his own, his fingers pushing in and out of you so deliciously.
“Answer my fucking question, slut.” he says, baritone voice deep in your ear.
The name causes you to gasp, sinful words and the sensation of his long, thick digits spreading you apart after so long already having you see stars in your eyes. “J-Jaehyun,” you whimper, voice wavering with every pump he fucks into you. “I was w-wrong. Y-You have control over me. I’m yours.”
You feel him smile against your ear. “Good.” he praises you, the pads of his fingers brushing against your sweet spot that causes your toes to curl and for you to let out a sweet mewl. “Now tell me how good of a whore you are and if I should let you cum or not. Did you let other people fuck your cunt while I was gone?”
You bite down on your lip as his digits pick up the pace, moving in and out of your hole with sopping sounds; the room is filled with a sinful soundtrack of Jaehyun’s dirty words, your breathy whimpers, and the sound of his palm slapping against your cunt. He brushes past your spot again, which causes you to buck your hips, letting out a louder mewl. He pushes your waist down with his free hand, wrapping his legs around yours to bring them wider, fully having you encompassed in his body. His fingers do not stop though, they ram against your sweet spot repeatedly, earning high-pitched moans to emit from your throat; all that you are able to say, is his name. “Don’t you fucking listen?” he growls into your ear, digits ruthless as they continue to fuck into you, stretching your walls out the way you like. “Tell me. Did other people fuck your cunt while I was gone?”
You bite onto your lip and weigh your options, whether you should tell him the truth, or not. Throughout the past five years of not wanting to face Jaehyun, you have accumulated quite a list of men that you had hooked up with for the enjoyment of one single night - many of them left you unsatisfied, but anything was better than you being left to your own devices. Tears begin to spring your eyes at the doubled speed Jaehyun was going now - you had forgotten how ruthless he is in bed, just the way you like it.
“Yes.” you decide to tell him the truth, although, you come to regret it when Jaehyun pulls his wet fingers out of you and slaps your cunt, your sensitive clit hit with dull thud of pain before he plunges his fingers deep into you again.
“Dirty whore,” he spits, but you’re unable to answer at the amount of pleasure overtaking your core. “Who? Who fucked you while I was gone? Tell me all of them or else you won’t get to cum.”
You tighten your walls around his fingers when he brushes past your spot for the nth time but he pulls his fingers out of you before you are able to be pushed to the edge, the built up high slowly fading just slightly before he plunges them back in again, a mewl emitting from your lips when realizing that your orgasm has to be built once again. “Jaehyun!” you whine, bucking your hips in aggravation against his ruthless hand, but he tightens his grip on you.
“I fucking said, tell me who fucked you,” he says through grit teeth. “Or else you won’t be able to cum at all.”
“N-Nakamoto Yuta,” you whisper. Your walls spasm around his fingers again, when he brushes the pads of his digits against your spot. You let out a moan as the pleasure rakes through your body, but you continue to power through, aching for your orgasm to rip through your limbs. “Kim Taehyung, L-Lee Minhyuk,” his fingers seem to bear no ending as they continue to fuck in and out of you while you recite each name that you are able to recall under the circumstance, but all that comes to and end when you utter the last name. “Kim Doyoung.”
He pulls his fingers out of you and hastily grabs your hair, forming it into a makeshift ponytail as he pulls your head closer to him. His grip on your scalp is tight and you let out a cry of pain as well as annoyance at your ruined orgasm - yet, you wanted more. He slowly moves you to the side, standing up from the couch and setting his feet in front of you, towering over your form, and you feel your heart sink in both fear and excitement.
“Kim Doyoung?” he chuckles lowly, slightly tugging on your hair harshly before redirecting your gaze to his belt, and your breath hitches in your throat at the realization of what he wants you to do. “So tell me, darling. Did he fuck you until you couldn’t walk, just like you wanted?”
Out of all the men that you had found yourself in bed with, often random strangers who believed it would be a stepping stone towards achieving your empire by your side, Kim Doyoung was one that you were not expecting. After running into him in a jazz lounge in New York City; the both of you caught up on what the other had missed, apologized for not staying in contact - and as each glass of liquor passed by the both of you in blurs, you quickly come to when both of your forms were barely able to make it to his bed, having bent you over the kitchen counter of his penthouse as he drilled into you from behind.
Just like Jaehyun, Doyoung was ruthless - he left marks on your skin that you had to cover for almost a week before you were certain they weren’t to be seen by the media, and for the entire day after the ordeal, you had deemed too sore to walk, having to call into your headquarters to inform them that you would be working from home that day. However, unlike Jaehyun, you held no connection with Doyoung - his gaze, though filled with lust and desire, held no longing and yearning for who you really are; his touch, though pleasurable and able to bring you to the edge, did not light fires against your skin.
As you pull Jaehyun’s pants down, his throbbing cock slapping against his stomach, the memories of that night are pushed out of your mind at the expense of your desire. You quickly wrap your hands around his shaft, thick and large - your core twitching at the thought of his cock stretching you out again. You part your lips before you swirl your tongue on his pink tip, the sensation of your slick tongue slathering around him letting a low groan emit from his throat. “Shit, baby,” he groans, relaxing his grip on your hair, pushing stray strands away from your face to get a better view.
“Fuck, I missed your pretty little mouth so much.”
You had forgotten how big he was when you attempt to take all of him into your throat, a gagging sound reverberating off the walls of your penthouse, which causes him to groan louder. “Shit,” he hisses, and he begins to rock his hips slowly. “Yeah, that’s right, choke on my cock like the dirty little whore you are.”
His throbbing tip hits the back of your throat in repeated beats, tears springing into your eyes as your gagging causes more saliva to flow out your mouth. He slowly begins to thrust faster, craning his head back at how good your throat feels around him; the grip he held in your hair tightens once again, keeping your head in place as he fucks your mouth. “Mmm, shit,” he grunts. “So fucking good. Such a whore, letting me fuck your throat, hm? Fuck! I missed you so fucking much.”
Obscenities fall from his lips as he continued to rut into your mouth, lewd noises of saliva against flesh emitting throughout the room; tears stained with mascara line down your face but you keep your hands trained on his hips as support - you’re almost sure that your sopping heat has begun to stain the fabric of the couch you sat atop. He thrusts once more, slowly this time, a guttural grunt sounding from his chest as he stuff your mouth - the tip of your nose tickles the base of his cock, and you screw your eyes shut to combat your gagging reflex, before he pulls out, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock.
“Please fuck me,” you beg him, leaning back into the couch as you desperately spread your legs apart, inviting him to your wet pussy. You pout at him through teary eyes, not bothering to wipe the saliva that lines your mouth, not bothered at the saliva that had stained your expensive dress, wanting nothing more than to be fucked already. “Please fuck me, I need you so bad. Please, Jaehyun.”
“Such an eager whore,” he chuckles as he moves in closer, positioning his cock against your pussy before he reaches to the top of your dress. He uncovers your chest roughly, you’re almost sure you can hear the slight ripping of fabric when he does, but you don’t care - not when his cock slides between your folds like that, barely attempting to plunge in. “I thought you were busy running a business? Looks like you have plenty of time to fuck.”
“Jaehyun, please...” you whine each time his tip passes by your entrance, but he continues to slather your lingering saliva and his pre-cum all over your pussy. “Please just fuck me, Jaehyun. Please.”
He smirks in arrogance before he drives into you with no warning, knocking the air out of you as you barely have time to readjust to his size before he begins to slam into you repeatedly, causing your voice ripping through the air as you scream his name repeatedly. “Jaehyun! Jaehyun!”
“You’ve become such a slut while I was gone, darling,” he grunts as he grabs onto your legs for balance as he stretches out your cunt, spreading your legs further. You are certain your body will never forget this sensation now, just as delicious as the first time he had done it, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Did you forget who your cunt belongs to?”
You are unable to form a sentence as each push into you just continues to knock the air out of your lungs, mewling in pleasure at his cock sliding against your slick walls. His hands gripped at your waist roughly, watching you bounce underneath him in your glory; your hair splayed around your face as if handpicked like fresh daisies. You feel your orgasm nearing, but Jaehyun seems to have no qualms for stopping, continuing to pull out of you entirely before snapping back in even as he feels your walls quivering. “Cumming already?” he growls, voice strained as he rocks his core wildly. “What a fucking slut.”
Gripping at the sheets is all you could do in that moment to keep your sense of self occupied, your orgasm finally ripping through your body, arching your back as his name emits through the air that you’re sure the hotel’s inhabitants would hear from the first floor. “Jaehyun, I’m cumming! I’m fucking cumming!”
He doesn’t stop though, if anything, his hips move faster and rougher against yours, the only sound accentuating your screaming are his hips slapping against your cunt - even as you come down from your orgasm, your body numb as you settle, he continues to fuck into you, face contorted into pleasure. Your legs tremble with each time he brushes against your spot, hips bucking wildly each rut he pushes into you. “Fuck, you’re still so, so, fucking tight,” he grunts, voice deep and filled with need. “I missed you so fucking much. Are you on the pill, babyl?”
“No,” you moan into his ear when he pushes into you deep and rough. “I don’t care. I want your cum inside me, please. I want it so bad.”
He groans at your words, his hips beginning to roll faster, holding you in his arms and burying your face in your neck as he does. “F-Fuck,” the vibrations of his voice tickles the skin of your neck. “You want my cum, baby? You want me to fuck a baby into you? Hm? Is that what you want? Get you pregnant to prove to you who your cunt really belongs to?”
“Yes!” you practically beg, hungering for your second orgasm. At this point, you are unable to even comprehend what slips past your mouth, your voice a montage of lewd noises and gibberish as his hips snap against you. Your sight has darkened, all your senses have gone numb, all you are able to focus on is his cock driving further and further into you over and over again, and his voice that seemed miles away even while he whispers the most sinful things into your ear.
“Mmm, fuck! I’m gonna c-cum, baby, fuck!” he groans loudly, reverberating off the marble walls as he leans back; his hips begin to stutter against yours, feeling him twitch inside you as he fills you up, moans of your name and other crude words slipping past his tongue. You let out breathy pants as he slowly pulls out of you, his cock coming out of your cunt as his cum follows soon after, the fluid warm against your abused skin - he takes his long fingers and swipes up some of the drip before plunging his fingers deep into your cunt again, causing another moan to rip through your throat.
“Oh my fucking god, Jaehyun,” you squeal, reaching down to grab his arm to keep his fingers from pounding into you again, but the overriding sensation has already taken over you nerves, your pleads of mercy turning into moans of pleasure. Your toes curl as the lewd sounds of his fingers pumping his cum back into you reaches your ears.
“Take it,” he grunts, watching your red face, hot with gratifaction. “Take all my cum, baby. So, so pretty carrying my baby. You’ll be glowing, so fucking precious and beautiful. And everyone will know that I’m the one who got you like that, yeah? Right, baby?”
“Y-Yes, Jaehyun,” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel your third orgasm of the night approaching, his fingers relentless against your cunt, making sure none of him leaks out. He brushes past your spot one last time, sensitive and numb, before you throw your head back into the cushions of your couch, final orgasm ripping through your nerves, unable to do anything else but moan quietly at both the plain and pleasure. “O-Oh my god.”
When your orgasm finally settles, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes progress from the darkest you have ever seen them back to their normal, soft umber tone, leaning up to kiss you softly. You have tears in your eyes from what your body endured, and you’re far too sore to move your limbs, but you kiss back, relishing in the feeling that you have missed for so long - he picks you up from the couch, your legs hanging in the air as he holds you close as he successfully finds your bedroom. He lays you down on the plush mattress and reaches to the bedside table where a box of tissues laid, wiping your body down, his actions mellow and calm, as he utters sweet nothings to you. “You’re so, so beautiful. You’re so good to me. You’re my entire world.”
When he finally finishes cleaning the both of you up, he wastes no time in getting into the other side of the bed, holding you close against him. Your breathing had finally calmed, your chest rising and falling in tranquil beats. You lay your cheek against his chest, relishing in the still environment that occupied the space around you.
“Jaehyun,” you utter, after a few moments of silence. “You won’t leave, this time, right?”
“Never,” Jaehyun assures you, his hand running through your hair. “I have never left in the first place.”
A soft smile makes its way onto your lips as you close your eyes, delighting in the thudding beat of his heart in his chest. His fingers continue to play with the strands of your hair, his breathing calming to your ears, lulling you as if it were a lullaby.
“Please talk to me,” you whisper, just a few seconds before sleep overtakes you. “Tell me about yourself. I want to hear your voice.”
He takes a few moments of pause, before you hear him breathe in. “My name is Jung Jaehyun,” he starts. “I am twenty-seven years old, I am the son of Jaejin and Shinae Jung, I have three brothers, my favourite colour is white, I love spring, I like to sing,” he pauses again, and you feel him press a tender kiss against the hair on the crown of your head.
“And I am in love with you.”
-----
The rising sun is warm against your face as you gaze at the gradient sky above you, hues of purples turning into deep oranges before coming together into a light blue. The clouds move laggardly against the beautiful sky; in the distance, you can hear the ocean waves crashing against the shores of the Amalfi coast, the scent of salt-water calming to your nerves as you take in a deep breath. The sky drenches you in an orange hue as you wrap your satin chiffon robe around you tighter, the slight breeze that blows against your form causing the foliage decorated on your balcony to dance in groups. You hear the sound of the door that separates your balcony landing from your hotel room, and a smile teases your lips when you feel strong arms wrap around you from behind.
“You’re up early,” his breath his warm against you ear as he holds you tightly, eyes gazing at the view alongside you. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just enjoying the view.” you reply, resting your head against his as he slowly begins to sway you back and forth. Your hands snake around his arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers ghosting over the wedding ring wrapped around your finger. “Are the kids still asleep?”
“Yes,” he whispers, his arms secured around your form. He chuckles lightly against your ear. “The two of them were snoring before I walked out here. It was adorable, actually.”
“How cute,” you coo, smiling fondly. “Maybe we should take them to the beach today! It’s been a long time since I’ve swam in the ocean.”
“We should; for now though...” he answers, voice turning low. “The kids won’t be up until a few hours.”
“Oh shush, you pervert,” a giggle passes your lips as you lightly hit his arm, which only causes him to chucke once more before tightening his hold on you slightly. “Let’s just enjoy this beautiful view for now.”
“This view is nothing compared to you.” he teases you, amusement clear in his voice as you feel his smile against your ear.
“Goodness, Jung Jaehyun,” you tsk. “You’ve gotten so corny.”
To wake up every day to the sight of Jung Jaehyun’s face is something that you would have only thought of as a dream years ago; to feel his hands wrapped around you in safety as sunlight pours in every single morning is a sensation you would have never thought to have. Gone were the early mornings of his absence, acknowledgements and memoirs only left behind with a crude or romantic note, traded with the blessing that adorned both of your ring fingers.
The wedding was held at a small, humble chapel, held only a month after the both of you had found each other again. Guests of those who are important to the both of you attended with their valour and blessings - Irene, at first, was shocked with what had turned out, but after conversing with your now-husband and realizing that all that she had heard was nothing but false words, only tears of happiness lined her eyes when she saw you walk down the aisle. Johnny and Ten were there as well, joy clear in their demeanours as they congratulated the both of you - you had also discovered that both Johnny and Jaehyun had mended their brotherly relationship, laughs and kind gestures traded between them at the following reception. You had wished for your mother to be there as well, perhaps to show her that you really were able to find love that isn’t fake, as she had believed, or perhaps to see her bear tears for your happiness.
And although your wedding was rushed and deftly planned, a few quirks showing up throughout the ceremony and reception, you couldn’t ask for anything more. Especially the moment when you finally sealed your love with a kiss at the front of the altar, the sensation enough to drown the sounds of your guest’s cheering in front of you.
And as the years passed, you only found yourself falling more and more for Jaehyun, the same excitement gracing your nerves every day you were to hold his gaze, to point a smile at him, and to press your lips against his. Even now, after becoming parents to two of the most beautiful children, another one on the way; even now, when the slightest of crow’s feet line the sides of your eyes, and the first inklings of gray hair are beginning to grow from his scalp; even now, when you’re so used to waking up to his calm face in the early mornings - you still find yourself falling ever the more in love with him.
Jaehyun chuckles slightly, the vibrations of his voice tickling the skin of your neck as he presses tender kisses against it, his hands slowly ghosting over the slight bump that began to protrude from your stomach’s form.
“Only for you, Mrs. Jung.”
And as you stand there, relishing in the view of the beautiful golden sky whose ocean underneath casts a reflection that is enough to make your jaw drop as well as the warmth of the man whom you love and loves you just as dearly back, you feel an emotion that you haven’t felt in years; an emotion that you know will stay with you for a long time.
You are happy.
FIN.
#pls dont hesitate on sharing ur thoughts!! im always open to feedback<3#jung jaehyun#jaehyun#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun smut#jaehyun angst#nct 127#nct#nct u#nct dream#wayv#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct smut#nct jaehyun#nct angst#nctwriters#heartau
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I'm risking sounding terribly egoistical by sending a public ask about my own url here but I'm doing it!!!!! I need the super graphic-details
Your ego is my ego, dearest nharidy. There's a reason the doc is named after you hahaha
[ 👉 My Wips ]
OK so the Absolvisti sequel's been sitting in my head since well, the week after I published it lmao. But I never got around to writing because I wasn't sure if it was being too self-indulgent (I'm feeling more confident about it now that I know you'll be pleased by it!). Also because I was having trouble deciding on a pov: should I continue with the Tatiana 1st person pov as always? Change it up to Martin 3rd person? or surprise: 1st person Don Juan?? Should it be a new chapter or new fic? (def. open to suggestions here!) Also I think it'd be Iconic to publish a story in the Dies Irae universe with our new cat profile pics.
Graphic detail time :D Prepare for a SUPER LONG answer LMAO. Most of the things I mentioned here and here will make their way in, with maybe a bonus ns/fw chapter from Martin or Andres' pov. The main story is SFW however, and there's like a hilariously high amount of hurt!Andres, who doesn't have demons to rely on anymore but still carries all the permanent damage the demons left on him:
It takes place some months after Absolvisti so Andres is doing better, but not fully well yet. He's not actively dying anymore but he does faint a lot and isn't exactly making a full recovery. Because I wanted to make things harder for Martin. Because he's not a young man anymore, the wounds were super extensive, and this is the result of years of accumulated damage + a form of "withdrawal" (the shadows/demons that used to feed on him were also the things that kept him alive so it's one big cycle that his body isn't leaving that easily).
This means every time Martin plans something nice for him like seeing a play or going out for a nightly walk, Andres can't go through the whole thing without feeling unwell. (Martin: "I over-exerted the love of my life. I am so SELFISH. what does Andres see in me??" Andres: "I disappointed the love of my life. I am the WEAKEST. what does Martin see in me??" Tatiana: feed me, bitches)
They manage to sit through one play though (not sure if I want this at the beginning or end of the fic LMAO). It's the one Bogota wrote, The Necromancer's Lament, a "biopic" about Andres' life. And it's every bit as terrible as Martin expected. Bad special effects, bad acting especially from Martin's actor, Andres' actor has a beard, and Tatiana looks like this:
Andres thinks it's the best play ever. Martin hates it and demands a refund. Tatiana hates it too but Don Juan's like, "mi amor, you are still beautiful to me, even as a deformed puppet."
Martin's 120-page complaints aside, Bogota runs the theatre troupe with his partner, Nairobi/Agata, and they're both going to start teaching performing arts at Santa Catalina because the last drama professor died lmao
Meanwhile, Santa Catalina has a new bad girl student, Tokyo/Silene! Sergio took her in as a charity case after some dark and mysterious events in her life. But Tokyo being Tokyo can't stay away from trouble, and she becomes obsessed with finding the demons that Andres expelled. Some bizarre possessions start happening again and the school's sponsors force Raquel to keep it under wraps. (Raquel: maybe if you increased funding, we wouldn't have so many problems!!)
In the meantime, Martin gets that letter from a long lost relative asking to meet him. Not sure about the order of this either. Anyway, Martin was planning to ignore the relative, but Andres insists he go. Either Tatiana or Don Juan accompany him. Martin learns that he's the sole heir of his dead parents across the sea (the will: “we forgive you for being a heretic, a freak of nature, and the alchemist of Palermo. also no hard feelings for leaving you to die as a baby xoxoxo”). There's one (1) condition though: he has to end his partnership with the necromancer. Martin: NO THANKS.
So while Martin's dealing with this unexpected drama, Sergio decides to call in Andres' expertise TM again because it's also a good excuse to talk to his brother. Martin is Very wary about this and rejects him. But Andres insists that it'll be fine. Plus, maybe he wants to turn a new leaf and help Santa Catalina for nothing in return this time. Not everyone gets a second chance at life and he doesn't want to be a bad person anymore uwu (Tatiana: "Andres was a pretentious piece of shit, surprising no one." Martin: "Nobody deserves Andres, not even me, and I'm like, the most amazing person in the world.")
Andres comes to do the exorcism with the random priest the school hired. And they discover there aren't any demons- it's just some ghost fucking around (maybe I'll make it the spirit of Gandia or Alicia since they haven't shown up yet lol). Anyway, it doesn't go very well but Andres gets rid of the creature or whatever. Not before it punctures a hole in his side though. Then Martin loses it, just full-on screams at Sergio for almost getting Andres killed again, makes a lot of threats against the school, etc. etc.
Raquel, being more useful, plugs up the wound. But the priest accidentally provokes Martin more by asking Raquel if he should mop up Andres' blood with holy water or something. What if the necromancer's blood is cursed?? And now it's all over the floor, so disgusting :/
Martin, already in a very bad mood, beats the priest up.
They go home. Martin's in a really sour mood and he just doesn't understand why Andres isn't mad at Sergio. Martin: "It's really emotionally damaging to me if you don't give a fuck about yourself." Andres makes him even angrier by bringing up the Berrote family will and having the audacity to suggest Martin leave him for money. He makes a huge case about how he literally has nothing to offer Martin except a body that barely works and a terrible reputation. Martin: "I lost a fucking eye for you??"
They fight and Martin storms away, and also kidnaps Don Juan, his honorary new soulmate who would never betray him like Andres.
A while after this, the Spanish Inquisition local clergy arrests Andres for "questioning." Because the shenanigans at Santa Catalina are still going on and that one priest suspects him of being behind everything just because. Raquel's the one who bails him out. She may not like Sergio's brother, but the way everyone else treats him is ridiculous.
Andres limps home, hoping Martin's still away. Surprise! Martin felt guilty and came back. And it's pretty obvious that Andres has just been tortured. Martin: "Say no more. I'm going to kill some people."
Andres gets Martin to not do anything stupid by dropping the thing with the will. He admits he was wrong for saying those things to Martin and he selfishly, genuinely wants to stay with Martin forever. Martin: "I'm still going to kill your brother. You may appease me with a kiss."
Does it end here? No! Because the shit at Santa Catalina is still happening. Andres and Martin solve it for good though. But it's all very dramatic. I'm vaguest about this part, but maybe Nairobi's injured saving Tokyo, and this gives Tokyo the wakeup call to move on from whatever baggage that got her into this mess in the first place. Then Andres' solution for saving Nairobi is to ask Martin to work that alchemist magic and transfer her wounds onto himself (at this point, we're just going overboard with the Andres whump but asdfasdf why stop??). Raquel: Sergio, tell your brother to stop dying. That's a bad example for the kids.
It takes a lot of convincing, but Martin relents in the end, only because he trusts Andres. At this point, Andres has been through so much that he physically cannot take any more damage. Like, he just can't lmao. So the whole process puts Andres into a coma or something. But we don't need him anymore because now we can revel in Martin's angst!
Martin spends the rest of his time crying and angsting and guilt-tripping Sergio, and just being very loud in general. He also writes back to his family and tells them to fuck off.
Once we indulge in enough of Martin's pain, Andres finally wakes up. Still very bad off but he's alive and not showing signs of dying any time soon. So that's good enough for Martin. They have a nice heart-to-heart, and idk, maybe Raquel comes to see them because Sergio's too embarrassed to. Until Andres insists, because he loves hermanito unconditionally uwu. Martin: "watch your back, Sergio. I might murder you in your sleep (:"
Then at the very end (I have no idea how long this story is LOL), there's some kind of family photoshoot between Raquel, Sergio, and Paula. Everyone's raving over this new invention called the "camera." Andres is admiring it from a distance until Raquel's like, "get over here. what part of FAMILY photoshoot do you not understand!?"
Andres is shocked pikachu face because good will towards him for once?? he's being included in something?? people want him around?? what is happening??
Martin's happy for him though. Then he's admiring from a distance until Raquel's like, "I said FAMILY photoshoot. Get over here, Martin!"
Tatiana didn't want to be a part of it, but Paula saw her favorite talking cat and like, grabbed her lmao. Don Juan photobombs it because he can't be excluded from an activity with Tatiana, especially when his former rival Andres is in the photo too. (His current rival is Casanova, an unworthy white cat vying for Tatiana's affections)
Sergio proposes to Raquel. The end! Yes, the kitty love triangle is also a central theme of this story LMAO Hope that satisfies you, nharidy! And I welcome any and all suggestions!
#nharidy#wip meme#asdfasdf this got so long omg#as you can see I thought a LOT about this sequel and have it all written... in my head rip#but if I know it will please you then that's enough motivation for me to get it on a document#kinda want to keep it tatiana's pov since she's what holds the dies irae universe together#also because Martin's pov would be 'andres never did anything wrong in his life he is so perfect'#andres' pov: 'everyone loved Martin and I because we are so beautiful and humble and amazing'#'someone threw an apple at me yesterday- a gift from another adoring fan obviously'#adfasdf so many shades of delusional and insufferable
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Hiii ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Could you write something about the boys finding you completely plastered in a bathtub? The POV: you were waiting for them but they were running late so you decided to have fun on your own 😆 And could you please add me to your tag list? 💕
Yes! This was my interpretation of your request. I hope it's what you were looking for.🤞I hope you enjoy it and keep sending in your requests! Also, I'm so sorry it took so long to get finished. I had a crazy day. I hope the content makes up for the lateness. ❤️
Javi was counting the minutes until he could get out of DEA headquarters and home to you. He had been chasing his tail all day trying to get a radio signal from Escobar and came up empty. Around midnight, Messina came out of her office to tell him and Steve to go home for the night. He was beyond grateful to be done, grabbing his leather jacket and hopping in his truck. When he stepped in the door of your apartment, he called out for you. "Y/N! I'm home! Are you still up?" He didn't honestly expect an answer so when he heard your voice coming from the bathroom he immediately went to join you. What he saw was far from what he expected. You were laying sprawled out in the bathtub, eyes half closed and several empty beer bottles strewn out on the floor. "You're home! God I mmmissed you. Why'd you take so long?" He walked over to the tub, sitting on the rim. There were a few dissipating bubbles and the water was cold. "Well, looks like you had some fun." He adds and you gasp. "I so did. Oh my gosh, you have no idea." As you continued to ramble, he picked up the beer bottles and threw them away before reaching into the tub to drain the water. "Hey! I was using that. I thought we could have some fun together." You say suggestively as Javi helps you out of the bathtub and grabs a towel to pat you dry. "Let's go, you need to go to bed. You're too drunk to have that kind of fun tonight." You protest but let him lead you to bed where you hop in, not bothering to get dressed. He goes into the living room, grabbing a beer for himself and turning on the tv. He was undeniably disappointed since he had been looking forward to seeing you tonight, but he knew that he needed to take care of you first. He quickly decided to join you in bed.
Oberyn had been gone all night for advisory meetings with his councilors. While you waited for him, you cracked open a bottle of fine Dornish wine that was gone before you could blink. When he had finally finished up and made his way to your chambers, he was surprised to find that you weren't in bed. He wandered into the bathroom to find you in the tub, half asleep. It made him smile that you had waited up for him, craving his presence before you went to bed. He chuckled, waking you as he approached. "Hey!" You would try to get up, failing miserably, as he poured more warm water into the bath and took off his robe. "Are you gonna get in with me? We should have sex." You whispered the last sentence, making him laugh again. "No, not tonight, my dove. I think you've had enough fun for one night. And I will not take a drunken yes as proper consent. I'm just going to sit with you." Very clumsily, you made room for him in the tub. Oberyn nestled in behind your back, pulling you warmly into his chest. He sat there with you for a while, resting his chin on your head. His hot flesh against yours made you tired very quickly, so he helped you out of the tub, dried you, and brought you to bed where he curled close to you until you both fell asleep.
Maxwell had tried to finish up his work as quickly as possible. You had been sending him suggestive photos all day and he couldn't wait to get home. He would come through the front door, immediately making his way to your bedroom. When he saw that you weren't in the bed, he ran towards the bathroom, hoping to find you there. Sure enough you were slouched in the tub, a few bottles of champagne empty on the floor. "Oh my god, Maxie!" You would shout as he approached the tub taking in the sight. "Are you drunk?" Unable to help the anger that crept into his voice, he put his hands on his hips. "Maybe just a little bit." You hiccup. "Look at how selfish you are. You couldn't wait long enough for me to get home? You're such a naughty girl." The water sloshed as you squirmed around at his words. "Does that mean you're going to spank me?" He reaches down to drain the tub, grabbing a towel. "No, it means I am going to put you to bed because you are too drunk to think." It was impossible for him not to want you, seeing you dripping wet and begging for him, but he knew it would be wrong to take you while you were so plastered. You pouted as he dried you off and led you to bed. "Are you mad at me?" You would ask, already snuggling into your pillow. It was times like these that Maxwell felt were perfect for being honest about his feelings, knowing you wouldn't remember in the morning. "I just really missed you today and I wish you had waited for me. I know I was late, but I thought you would have put in an effort. I did everything I could to get home to you but you were too impatient." With that, he made his way to the guest bedroom, deciding to wait until you were sober to get into bed with you. Even though you were drunk out of your mind, regret crept into your heart. In a brief moment of sobriety, you promised yourself you would make it up to him in the morning.
It seemed like every time Max tried to leave, someone else would come barging into his office with something "urgent". When he was finally able to sneak away, he drove home as quickly as he could. He was praying that you would be awake to welcome him home. When you heard the front door open, you immediately called out to him. Max smiled brightly, following your voice. However, this was not how he expected to find you. Your legs were over the side of the bathtub, half the water on the floor with a beer in your hand. "Welcome home!" Max would walk over to you, picking up beer bottles along the way. "What's all this?" You hiccup before explaining. "Well, you weren't home for a long time so I thought I would have a few drinks without you." Rather than being upset, Max felt bad for keeping you waiting. He wished that he had called to tell you he would be late so you could have gotten some sleep instead of getting hammered in the tub. "I'm sorry I was late, sweetheart. Here let me help you get to bed." You whined, making grabby hands at him. "I don't want to go to bed! I want you." He helped you up, steadying you when you got to your feet. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Let's see how you feel in the morning, okay? But you don't have to go straight to bed. Why don't we just sit and watch a little tv?" You liked that idea, letting him pull your t-shirt on over your head. The two of you stumbled to the living room where you laid in his lap as the tv played, passing out within seconds.
Jack was supposed to be back from his mission hours ago. He had told you it would be a super quick bust, but as the clock hit midnight you decided to get started on the fun without him. By the time you heard the door unlock, you were too far gone. Jack's boots thumped through the hall as he tried to find you. "In here." You'd holler, causing him to step into the bathroom. You were sitting with your legs crossed, hands in your lap smiling up at him. "My cowboy's home!" Jack would light up at the sight of you, taking notice of the large amount of empty containers of alcohol nearby. "Well, don't you look too damn cute. You couldn't wait to start without me, huh?" All you could do was giggle as he sat on the rim of the tub. Jack couldn't help but admire how sweet you really did look, cheeks all flushed and those pretty lips curled up into a smile. "Come on, get in!" You would insist, but he shook his head. "I think I'd rather get in bed, wouldn't you?" As you tried to get up, you would begin rambling about anything and everything, Jack listening in amusement. As you continued to talk he got you dressed and helped tuck you into bed. "How did I get into bed?" You would ask, causing him to chuckle. "Get some sleep, hun." He would say, turning to leave. "Wait! Don't leave." You would whine. Jack would happily climb into bed with you, stroking your hair as you both fell asleep.
Tags: @pedrosdoll @nopeforyou @readsalot73 @gamingaquarius @roxypeanut @talesfromtheguild
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