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madamegemknight · 7 months

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I've finally watched the Muppets 2011 with my dad, and it was a blast!! I love its sense of humor (seriously, that Muppet man joke had me CACKLING), and it's so heart-warming in its simplicity and having a good time despite the trials the Muppets went through... I feel like I can't wipe this smile off my face (ehe)

Do you have any other Muppet or puppet media you'd recommend? I thought I'd ask you since you're the resident puppet expert, and I've been wanting to get into more puppet-related stuff :P

OH YAYYYY I’m so glad you liked it!!

And I do have other Muppet/puppet media I would recommend, thank you so much for asking (and gosh I am incredibly flattered you consider me the resident puppet expert). This is going to be LONG (sorry about that in advance), so under the cut it goes!

First off, I’d recommend the sequel to Muppets 2011, Muppets Most Wanted! It’s about the Muppets going on a world tour after getting back together in the previous movie, only for a criminal mastermind named Constantine (who looks exactly like Kermit) to hijack the tour, sending the real Kermit to prison and pretending to be Kermit so he can hide from the law and use the tour as a chance to steal the Crown Jewels. It’s a really great comedy heist that’s also an INCREDIBLE musical, and it has the same humor and sense of heart that Muppets 2011 has. I haven’t seen it in a while, but I have incredibly fond memories of watching it with my sibling when we were younger, and I think you would really enjoy it.

I would also recommend the original Muppet Show! I haven’t finished watching it yet (I’m on season 4 of 5 at the moment) but it’s a really fun show that serves as a love letter to old vaudeville theater and is just consistently entertaining. There’s no overarching plot and you can pretty much watch any episode in any order, though I would suggest that if you’re interested in checking it out, you watch the Harry Belafonte episode first - it’s regarded by a lot of fans (including me) as being the best episode of the series, and gives a very good idea of what the rest of the show is like.

(Also I HIGHLY recommend you watch the pitch reel for The Muppet Show, which you can find on YouTube here. It’s not essential viewing by any means, but it’s very funny and gives a bit of context for what the field of entertainment was like at the time the show was pitched)

The original trilogy of Muppet films are also absolutely stellar. The Muppet Movie is the story of how the Muppets got together, The Great Muppet Caper is essentially an AU where Fozzie and Kermit are brothers working for a newspaper and trying to prove Miss Piggy innocent of a jewel robbery, and Muppets Take Manhattan is essentially an AU where the Muppets were all friends in college and are trying to put on a show in New York. The original trilogy films are really fun in my opinion because they play fast and loose with what’s real and what’s fake; Kermit admits at the beginning of The Muppet Movie that it’s only an approximate retelling of how the Muppets actually got together, and the other two movies in the trilogy are telling completely separate stories than the main Muppet timeline, with The Great Muppet Caper even having an entire song devoted to telling the audience that it’s just a movie and that it isn’t actually canon. They all have INCREDIBLE soundtracks, too, the songs from these movies are some of my favorite Muppet songs ever.

Fraggle Rock isn’t really considered a piece of Muppet media anymore, since when Disney bought the rights to the Muppets they didn’t bother buying it as well, but it was originally a Muppet production and all of the stuff I watched as a kid referred to it as a Muppet production, so I’m counting it as a Muppet production still lol. Fraggle Rock is an absolutely amazing show on all levels; the puppetry is great, the songs are all stellar, the characters are so well-written, and despite being a show aimed at kids it never talks down to its audience, handling serious issues like death and prejudice with the respect they deserve. It’s probably best to go into Fraggle Rock as blind as possible (unlike The Muppet Show, there is an overarching story, though you don’t really find out that there is one until towards the end of Season 1) so all I’ll say is that it’s probably one of my favorite Muppet productions ever and that the finale, without exaggeration, made me cry for 30 minutes straight. There’s also a Fraggle Rock reboot called Fraggle Rock: Back to The Rock, and while I personally don’t think it’s as good as the original series, it’s still REALLY amazing and you can tell that the team working on it really cares about the og series. If you do end up watching Fraggle Rock, I’d recommend the reboot as well!

Getting into a bit more obscure territory here, but Tales From Muppetland: The Frog Prince is very near and dear to my heart. It’s a Muppet retelling of the Frog Prince fairytale, with the twist that the princess has been cursed by the same witch that the frog prince has been cursed by! The relationship between Prince Robin and Princess Melora is really cute, and it’s clear that the two of them really care for each other. I love the changes that it makes to the original fairytale, too; I mentioned the twist of Melora also being cursed, which gives her and Robin the chance to bond and leads to a very sweet song about finding someone who understands who you are and what you’ve gone through, but the story is also altered so that Robin explains why he needs Melora to kiss him instead of hiding the fact that he’s a prince from her - she doesn’t believe him, but I’m glad they made that change regardless. The witch is also a really fun villain! She’s reused from a previous Muppet production (Tales of The Tinkerdee) that was meant to be a pilot for a planned show but was never picked up, and I’m really glad she got a chance to shine in something that was actually officially released.

Sam and Friends is the first ever Muppet series, debuting in 1955, and while most of it is unfortunately lost media there are a couple episodes you can find online! I really like Sam and Friends (I have a book all about the making of the show), and I would recommend it both as a way to look at how far television puppetry has come and as just a genuinely very entertaining show in its own right - plus, the episodes are only 5 minutes long, so you can get through all the available episodes pretty quickly. My personal favorite episode is “Powder Burn,” a parody of the show Gunsmoke.

Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas is probably one of my favorite Christmas specials ever, despite me only watching it for the first time this past December. It’s a very earnest and emotional story about a family (Emmet Otter and his mother Alice Otter) living in poverty after the death of Emmet’s father. Both Emmet and Alice want to be able to give each other a good Christmas present, so they both enter the local talent contest on Christmas Eve in order to win the cash prize without telling each other. The soundtrack is done by the same man who did the soundtrack for The Muppet Movie (Paul Williams), and is just GORGEOUS - it manages to be silly and heartfelt at the same time, and does some really interesting stuff with the instrumentals, like having a kazoo solo during one of the more somber songs which somehow actually works! Like Fraggle Rock, it it isn’t afraid of tackling serious issues like death and poverty, and like Fraggle Rock, it made me bawl like a baby.

Finally, I would recommend both the documentary Of Muppets and Men and the Jim Henson Hour episode “Secrets of The Muppets” (I sadly haven’t watched enough of The Jim Henson Hour to give a proper recommendation, but from the little I’ve seen it’s very good). Both of these tackle the behind the scenes of working on the Muppets, with Of Muppets and Men being about the making of The Muppet Show specifically and “Secrets of The Muppets” being a general overview of the stuff the Muppets had done up to that point. I completely understand if you don’t want to see the behind the scenes workings of the Muppets (my mom doesn’t like seeing that kind of thing either and I get why), but if you do want to see it I can’t recommend these two enough. They do an excellent job at introducing and highlighting the skills of the troupe of Muppet performers, detailing specific tricks of puppeteering, and showing how everything comes together.

There’s definitely more Muppet media I want to recommend, but if I did so we’d be here FOREVER, and I still haven’t gotten to the puppet media recommendations! This list does serve as a pretty good starting point though - if you like Frog Prince and Jug-Band Christmas you’ll probably like the rest of the Tales From Muppetland specials, if you like one of the original trilogy of Muppet movies you’ll probably like the others in the trilogy, if you like Sam and Friends you’ll probably like the Muppets’ appearances on shows like the Ed Sullivan Show or the Jimmy Dean show that they made during that period, etc. Most of this stuff is on YouTube or the Internet Archive, but if you’re looking for something specific and can’t find it, let me know and I’ll do my best to locate it 👍

AND NOW AFTER 50 MILLION PARAGRAPHS WE ARE ON TO THE PUPPET MEDIA IN GENERAL RECOMMENDATIONS

I have to start this list off with my favorite movie of all time, The Dark Crystal. It’s a fantasy epic done entirely with puppets, and it is utterly gorgeous. All of the puppets are so detailed (I had the absolute blessing to see some of them when a local museum held a puppetry exhibit and the sheer amount of tiny details you can’t even SEE in the film are incredible), the world is so richly developed, the soundtrack is absolutely top-tier, and the amount of innovations in puppetry that this film causes are mind-blowing. There are traditional puppets, people in suits, radio-controlled puppets…the list goes on! I cannot recommend The Dark Crystal enough, it means so much to me and is probably the reason I’m so obsessed with puppets in the first place. It also has a prequel on Netflix called Age of Resistance - like the Fraggle Rock reboot, I don’t think it’s as good as the og, but it’s still absolutely stunning and the team working on it clearly cares about the world of the original film. Sadly, the prequel was cancelled after only one season :( I still recommend it if you like the film, but just go into it knowing that it’s gonna end on a cliffhanger.

The Little Shop of Horrors movie has an absolutely AMAZING puppet in the form of Audrey II, the film’s main antagonist. There are multiple Audrey II puppets, as the character grows throughout the entire film, and the biggest one required over 50 puppeteers to operate. There are no opticals or blue screens used for Audrey II (except for one scene at the very end of the film that they had to reshoot), and the effect is mind blowing. Little Shop is an absolutely incredible film overall, too, and thankfully doesn’t use Audrey II as a selling point or a gimmick - the puppet is incorporated very naturally into the film, and you appreciate the puppetry much more as a result.

I haven’t watched Labyrinth, but my sibling has and they really like it! From what I’ve seen of the puppetry, it’s really well done, and the movie seems very fun. Sorry I can’t give a better recommendation than that lol.

If we’re counting stop-motion animation as a form of puppetry (which I personally do considering the models are typically referred to as puppets), then I absolutely recommend checking out the work of LAIKA, which includes productions such as Coraline and Kubo and The Two Strings. I also highly recommend Wendell and Wild, made by former LAIKA supervising director Henry Selick, as well as Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio. All of these films are stunning, and they absolutely deserve the hype that surrounds them.

This one is a bit more preschool-centric, but when I was very little I was OBSESSED with Johnny and The Sprites, and having watched a bit of it again recently, I feel it still holds up somewhat for older audiences. It’s a show about a musician named Johnny who moves to a house in the woods in order to focus on his music only to find that the house is next to Grotto’s Grove, where a species of fairy-like beings called the Sprites live. The series is focused on Johnny teaching the Sprites about human stuff and the Sprites teaching Johnny about Sprite stuff in turn. It’s a very cute and charming show :3

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum is Mystery Science Theater 3000, a show about a man trapped in space with 4 robot companions and forced to watch bad movies as part of an evil science experiment. It’s very goofy and very immature at times, and 99% of the time you need a guide to understand the stuff they reference, but it’s great regardless, and despite being very simple the puppets are really well-designed. Unfortunately, one of the characters is named after the ethnic slur used against Romani people in the show’s original run; it wasn’t done out of any intentional malice and the creators changed her name when the show was revived and viewers expressed their concern, but if that sours your opinion on watching the original show I completely understand.

Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared is a classic, and for good reason - both the original webseries and the tv show riff off of and play with the stereotypes of traditional children’s puppet shows, while still clearly respecting the art of puppetry and giving it their own unique spin. It’s definitely on the spookier/gorier side of things, so MASSIVE content warning if you want to check it out, but DHMIS is very good and I adore it.

And with that, this very very very VERY long list comes to an end. I definitely didn’t mention everything that I wanted to - there are some excellent pieces of puppet media, like Starkid’s Starship, that I just haven’t gotten around to watching and thus can’t properly recommend - but like with the Muppet section, I’d suggest using this as a starting point. There’s a TON of puppet media out there, and this is just scratching the surface!

I hope this list helps, and that you find something on here that you enjoy :D

#I am SO SORRY for how long this got akabwkrnsalsk once you get me talking about puppets I cannot stop

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powderblueblood · 4 months

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some options for the makes sense/compels me matrix:

-carolacy

-what do u think of ronance? like robin and nancy? as well as jancy/stancy?? i'm curious your take on nancy in general tbh!

-actor steve and meeeeee (that one is a joke you don't have to answer that)

-what do you think of the two college boys in alfred hitchcock's "rope" if you've watched that movie?

-eliza doolittle and professor higgins from my fair lady/pygmalion! personally i don't like the professor very much and i like ending the movie right when he tells his mother she left and she responds "yes, dear. what did you expect?"

-gregory peck and audrey hepburn in roman holiday

-nihilism vs optimism

-elizabeth munson and lacy's mom whose name i'm forgetting, mrs. doevski

-beadie, the oc from your actor steve au and her fast talking best friend

i think that's all i can think of right now

carolacy

makes sense, compels me - i am endlessly compelled by the dual end fascination that carol and lacy share with each other, carol obsessed with lacy because she's not easy to manipulate and seems to exert control over people with few if any words (stoicism makes you sexy! it also makes you terrifying), and lacy with carol because she's barbed wire in the form of a girl, so angry and so jagged yet still accepted. but they exist like this - carol is a dead end in a small town and lacy has a world of possibilities at her fingertips. lacy will squeeze carol for all she's worth, ignoring the fact that this thing between them feels like real kinship until she doesn't have to acknowledge her anymore and carol will waste time resenting lacy in public and yearning for her in private. but, of course, it isn't really that simple. you can't really put two alphas in the same enclosure together, they'll tear each other's throats out eventually. even if they love each other.

putting the rest of this under a read more because it got LONG LOL

ronance

makes sense, (kind of) doesn't compel me - so i'm willing to get annihilated for this but ronance makes sense to me mostly in the context of i know in my heart of heart of heart of hearts that nancy wheeler is a Woman Kisser. there's no way that girl is straight. her first kiss and many subsequent others was with barb holland. this i believe like absolute gospel. as far as ronance goes, i am really only interested in the way everybody else seems to think is a thought crime, and that is in its messiest form, like nancy and robin getting into a whole thing and steve feeling betrayed by it on both sides. yadda yadda yeah, they don't owe him anything, but how juicy! i think the sheer guilt of it would break robin's brain whereas nancy's kind of like... so what? which further supports my aromantic nancy wheeler agenda. but i digress.

jancy

makes sense, doesn't compel me - trauma bond hetero compliant relationship. i do think their friendship comes from a place of real and true affection though and i'd like to see more of that.

stancy

makes sense, doesn't compel me - the picture perfect guy you date before you realize you are GAY you mean??? i think nancy and steve are doing insane projections on both sides. steve with his whole six kids bullshit (my man, get a hobby) and nancy with bouncing from steve to jonathan to whatever the fuck, just trying to make something heterosexual stick.

nancy wheeler

makes sense, compels me - could not be more compelled by the ballad of nancy wheeler, frankly. that girl was simply meant to be the best investigative journalist at a mid-tier chicago newspaper, instead she's sawing off shotguns in a field. i want to crack her head open like a fucking walnut and examine it under a microscope. what is she thinking? how is she feeling? what happens when she finally completely cracks? on the one hand, i need her to get so far away from hawkins and the people she knows there, move to seattle and start listening to k.d. lang but on the other, you'll never leave hawkins alive.

actor steve and YOU!!!!!!!

makes sense, compels me, you are going to help him overthrow the tyrannical rule of jack warner of the warner brothers studio

goddamn motherfucking leopold and loeb you mean???

makes sense, compels me - now to be fair i have not seen rope in many years (but may very well watch it tonight, ty for the idea!!!) but those two little fuckers were of course obviously and explicitly gay as hell but god, the whole thing about using the ubermensch theory about proving your superiority over others by killing someone and getting away with it OH BROTHER i love the moral decrepitude of that shit! realizing now that that may also have inadvertently inspired the dynamic i created between al munson and ray doevski. feeling normal

professor higgins can eat shit and die

doesn't make sense, doesn't compel me - man i just watched my fair lady at christmas again and i really can't get on board with that guy. eliza should have killed him.

greg peck and aud hep in rom holi

makes sense, compels me - slamming my fists ON THE TABLE, god i love roman holiday. and while they're so cute together, i do kind of dig that they don't end up together because it's ultimately about ann's exploration of autonomy and having a fun girlie time. but yeah they should have kissed too

nihilism vs optimism

makes sense, compels me - i think as a notion, implicit optimism would be nice but by dent of living under late capitalism etc, it's much easier to slide into nihilism. but nihilism doesn't have to be all bad. the reframing of nothing matters 😒 to nothing matters 😃 has been revolutionary for me personally as a person living in the world. this is not a blanket dismissal on like serious issues, but it's moreso the idea that one day we will all fucking die so we might as well try to have a good time while we're here. at all costs, in fact.

elizabeth munson vs gloriana doevski

makes sense, compels me - the way i've been staring into the middle distance thinking about them so much the last while. i think ray has extremely defined boundaries when it comes to running business with al that he's never entertained the thought of holding a fucking family barbecue or anything, elizabeth and gloriana sitting in deck chairs in a stilted silence with sangria getting warm in their hands. al's more the type to be like, "let's get the family together!" and ray looks at him like he just smeared human shit on his windshield. the streams between these women do not cross, but when they do, when they see each other in the grocery store, elizabeth can't exactly understand why gloriana looks at her with this seething rage barely concealed under her curt nod. but i can tell you; it's because elizabeth has a husband that loves her (you can see it, even when al is a bombastic asshole, he loves that woman with a fervor that is real. she's not a bauble to him). gloriana is a bauble to ray, once an entry point and now just a pretty thing to parade around. part of the polish he's painstakingly created. he takes care of her well. he's never hit her. but he's never really there. and has she ever actually wanted him to be? gloriana takes the easy route and looks at elizabeth like she's trash. elizabeth looks at gloriana like, what's this chick's fucking problem. ain't we supposed to be on the same side?

beadie pike and pidge sterling

makes sense, compels me - i think what compels me the most about beadie and pidge's relationship is that beadie moves into the boarding house that they live in in hollywood fresh out of the church circuit. pidge is this trigger-happy workaholic with the substance intake of man twice her size and yet, wide-eyed beadie ends up being the wildcard of the two because she has this streak of concentrated violence and pent up aggression running through her after spending a life never being able to express herself when all she's ever wanted to do is express herself. pidge is the sound and beadie is the fury.

#powder room talk #procrastinationprincesses

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thrillridesz · 3 years

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heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs + @ickjun

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 years

Note

COLLEGE AU!!! I think it would be more of an Ivie league school since they're ✨rich kids✨

Cece and Cherie are roommates

Anthony, Elias, and Simon are roommates

Balls = parties (like the tame ones) The chaos that would ensue.

Pierre and Cherie meeting in like a French class, proposals could be people asking eachother out, that would be interesting.

Lady whistledown is the schools gossip either blog or newspaper, getting all the teacher, relationship, drama ext.

LOVEEEE OMG I AM SCREAMING!? 😱❤ This is such an amazing idea, you're so talented and I AM SO EXCITED THANK YOU!😱😍

So I have so many ideas for this-

First of all, the roommates YES😂😍 Lady Whistledown as the gossip blog?! It would be so good!😂

So Cherie would one hundred percent have the biggest crush on Anthony😏 And Cecily and her would be walking to class and Cecily would be like,

"Are you coming to the library after this?"

"Hm?"

"We said we would go to the library to study?"

"Wait we- Cece I forgot! I'm sorry, I just...uh, I have this thing I need to talk to Elias about."

"Right. So you will drop by their place and hopelessly try to catch a sight of that manwhore-"

"I don't do that!"

"Of course you don't."

"I don't! I just need to talk to Elias about the spring break plans because my mom is unstoppable at this point. And if I happen to see Anthony, that's completely coincidental."

"I seriously can't believe you. He hooked up with two different girls at the same party!"

"Where did you-"

"Whistledown wrote it. So back to my original statement, he's a manwhore and you deserve better."

"It's not like he ever asked me out or anything so, don't worry about it."

#enamored hc

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quarantinevibes2020 · 3 years

Text

LoveDrug

Summary: That trope where someone's eyes dilate when they see someone they love. That's it. That's the whole fic. OR Virgil and his accomplice play matchmakers for some literal star-crossed lovers.

Word count: 2198

Pairing: Romantic Roman/ Logan (college AU)

Warnings: drinking (not underage), other drugs mentioned but no one uses any

Yes this happened to me. Hush and let me project

AO3 Link

Roman was going to murder his roommate. Or at least shave an eyebrow off in his sleep.

He had been trying to navigate a small apartment decorated in polaroids and newspaper paintings, crowded with people he didn’t know. He had done his best flitting around from group to group: parties weren’t exactly a foreign entity to him and usually he would relish in the chance to make new friends. However, he had been looking for a particularly stormy visage among the sea of people.

He locked eyes with his target: Virgil Kross, aforementioned roommate who had dragged him here in the beginning of the night and told him to stay close before uncharacteristically darting off.

The get together was for everyone in Virgil’s physics class and when Roman found him, Virgil was propped up against a wall and sitting on some steps, swirling around a cider and talking to someone in square glasses and an almost comically over-formal button down.

Virgil caught his eye and lifted an eyebrow. Roman shook his head in a restrained don’t you dare Virgil I swear sort of way. Virgil either didn’t see it or outright ignored him. He waved Roman over, made some sort of excuse that Roman didn’t hear, and left the two alone.

Roman was going to fill Virgil’s pillowcase with popcorn kernels. He was going to tape his toothbrush to the ceiling. He was going to hide his socks in the freezer. He was going to-

“Roman?”

Roman sucked in a breath, litany of threats against his horrible, no good roommate suddenly coming to a halt.

In front of him sat Logan Nova, Virgil’s study partner from when he had taken astronomy a semester ago and also, less important, the person Roman had been pining for ever since Virgil had dragged them on their fieldtrip in September. The class was supposed to map out the stars they saw, identify them, and measure their distances or something. Roman didn’t really keep track of the details. He wasn’t even too interested in looking at the stars, coming from a city where they were mostly blocked out by the light pollution.

And sure, they were pretty in the open sky, but not prettier than the wide eyes that drank them in, than the elated expression that same face had when Roman asked him a question about the class since Virgil was off probably shotgunning a beer with their professor and Roman was bored out of his mind. Logan had shown Roman his star maps and pulled out a worn out textbook with tenderly placed bookmarks of his favorite constellations. Roman had been fascinated by the stories behind them and the two spent the night going through the book, cover to cover.

By the end, Roman was sure he never thought the stars were beautiful until he saw them reflected in Logan’s eyes.

Virgil continued to bring Logan over, even after their astronomy classes had ended, sometimes completely unannounced, before flouncing off to run some errands with his art major friends (how Virgil managed to double major never ceased to amaze Roman, especially given that both those majors were so hard). And for the past six months, Roman had gone from crushing to something close to besotted. It wasn’t something very easy to hide so the next time Roman caught that spider he was going to put ice down his back and-

“Um, there aren’t anymore seats. I can move if you’d like?”

Logan’s voice brought Roman back to the present. He took an extra swig of his drink, hoping that Logan wouldn’t notice how he almost downed it for the courage, and shook his head.

“Scooch on over, Specs, we can share,” Roman said, the burn behind his sternum fueling his words.

Logan laughed, a little bubbly and Roman guessed that his cup was full of something with a similar texture, and moved for Roman to balance on half the seat.

Roman took another sip, looking out over the room of people.

“So this is what you physics people do on a Friday night, huh?” Roman asked, a little teasingly, “not bad.”

Logan bumped him and Roman barely kept his heart from fluttering out of his chest like a frantic dove.

“Did you see how drunk half the class got at the Meteor Fields?”

Roman snorted, “Fair. We almost had to carry Virgil back to the room.”

“You almost had to carry him. I did carry him.”

Roman made a noise of offense, “Excuse me! I am a knight in shining armor! Not a carriage!”

Logan laughed and Roman finally turned to look at him, startling when his face was much closer than he had anticipated.

“I don’t appreciate that I am the carriage in this metaphor,” Logan said with a faux-pout. Roman wanted to quip something back, but he had something of an elephant-sized lump in his throat. Logan tilted his head before leaning in. Roman just barely managed not to squeak.

“Goodness,” Logan said, “your eyes are so dilated!”

Roman blinked, taking another sip of his drink and trying to will a blush down.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Logan exclaimed back, leaning in even more and woo-boy was he close.

Roman looked to his drink slightly, not able to hold Logan’s wide eyes for a second without turning cherry-red.

“It’s pretty bright in here, they shouldn’t be,” Roman said, trying to ‘science it out’ like Logan loved to do. Logan, mercifully to Roman’s thundering pulse, sat back a bit: considering.

“Well. Quite a few things can cause one’s pupils to dilate. Lack of light. Opiate withdrawal. Looking at someone you’re attracted to. Love. Parasympathetic activat-”

“Coke,” Roman nearly choked out. Logan paused in the list he was rattling off and blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Coke. I did coke. Just- whole line of cocaine all in one gulp.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t drink cocaine, Roman. Furthermore-”

Roman didn’t hear the rest of Logan’s sentence. He pushed off the wire seating, sputtering out something about refilling his drink, and made a beeline for the back exit.

When he got to the balcony, he nearly slammed his head into the corner of the railing.

Well Roman thought miserably better for him to think you’re on drugs than hopelessly in love with him. Really dodged a bullet there.

The thought didn’t help. Roman let out a groan and let himself slump. He poked his legs between the columns of the balcony and swung his feet. Above him, the sky was hazy. The moon was barely visible as it peeked through a curtain of clouds. Not a star in the sky. A part of Roman thought that was rather fitting given how royally he had just messed up.

A door opened and closed behind him. For a moment, Roman thought it was Virgil from how quiet the footsteps were and was about to get up and tell him he was heading out when he turned around.

Logan Nova, adorable wavy black hair and now slightly-crumpled but still endearing button down, was staring back at him. Clutching his drink a little as he moved to sit next to Roman. He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then-

“Whoever your dealer is, I don’t think they gave you cocaine,” he finally said.

Roman swiveled around to meet his eyes. Logan’s eyebrows furrowed even further.

“Your eyes are dilated again. And while that is a symptom of its ingestion, your behavior otherwise does not indicate its use.”

Something bubbled out of Roman’s throat. For a horrifying moment, Roman thought it was his drink trying to take revenge, but no- it was laughter. Croaky at first, but rapidly devolving into full-bellied howling.

“Perhaps I misjudged?” Logan said after Roman’s guffaws continued, Roman shook his head, trying to stop the shake in his shoulders as Logan, obviously more than a little concerned at Roman’s ‘illicit drug use’, got more and more worried by the minute.

“I didn’t do any drugs, Logan,” Roman finally got out between heaving breaths. Logan stuck out his bottom lip a little.

“But you said..?”

Roman waved at him, he must have misjudged the distance because his hand caught Logan’s shoulder but Roman didn’t feel like moving it.

“I know what I said,” Roman said, laughter trickling, “I know, it was stupid, I promise though. I haven’t had anything besides this crappy beer and,” Roman took in a breath, now or never he guessed, “maybe a little love,” he finished quietly, not sure whether he should thank the alcohol or curse it for letting him say it.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up, “Lovedrug? Like ecstacy?!”

“What?!” Roman shot back, looking incredulous before rubbing his face, “NO, not- not lovedrug you-UGH- how are you smart but so dense??”

Logan only blinked in return. Roman supposed he deserved that.

“Lo,” Roman said, taking his legs out of the balcony and setting them in a lazy kneel, “what were the things you listed off for making someone’s eyes dilate?”

Logan’s nose scrunched, “Em. Parasympathetic activation?”

“Keep going,” Roman said, exasperated but woefully fond.

“Ecstasy would certainly be on the list.”

“Logan.”

Logan huffed, “Ah. I believe I also said looking at someone you’re attract-”

Logan stopped. His expression almost sent Roman into hysterics again but he didn’t give in because if he did he might have ended up crying.

“Oh,” Logan said in a small voice.

“Yeah, oh” Roman echoed softly, “sorry I lied, I kind of just. Panicked. A little.”

“So you led me to believe you had taken a bad strain of cocaine?” Logan replied, voice strained but still shocked out of emotion.

Roman squirmed. “Yee. My bad, you don’t- you know. Have to say anything though. I know you don’t- I just wanted you to know since you seemed a little freaked that I was having a bad drug reaction.”

“You know I don’t what?” Logan asked suddenly as he spun to face Roman. Roman looked down and scratched his nose.

“You don’t-ugh. Don’t make me say it dude, you know what I mean.”

“Roman, look at me.”

Boy, Logan was not making it easy. But he supposed if he was going to get rejected, he should look at him straight in the eyes. At least he’d retain some of his dignity then. Roman lifted his chin.

“What color are my eyes?”

Roman blinked, a little caught off-guard from the question. Was it that obvious that Roman had been waxing poetic about Logan’s eyes in his own mind from the moment he had met him? How they caught the light and sucked it in, like two galaxies swirling in his irises. How his lashes curled naturally, almost touching his brow bone when they were alight with wonder. How it didn’t even matter now that he couldn’t see a star in the sky because they were all caught in Logan’s eyes. They were a force of gravity pulling him in and everything else with them.

“…black?” Roman said, tamping down on his raging thoughts. Logan cocked his head.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

Roman almost would have been offended if Logan hadn’t chosen that moment to tug Roman’s chin towards him.

“Look closer,” Logan said.

Breathe, dumbass Roman’s brain said. He listened to both as he squinted.

There were still the swirling galaxies in the middle. The soft gaze did nothing to curb that, but there- Roman tilted his head as he saw something else. Like the sun brimming over the earth, a honey brown at the very edges. Logan must have seen Roman’s expression as he realized it.

“My eyes are amber, Roman.”

There was something in Logan’s voice, it was the same one he used when he was helping Roman with his GenEd calc class. Like he was trying to lead him somewhere. If Logan’s eyes were amber, then his pupils must have been massive because they took up the majority of the…oh.

“But-I-I don’t,” Roman stuttered.

“What were the reasons for someone’s eyes to dilate?” Logan pushed.

“Didn’t take you for a coke guy,” Roman said, trying for cool but bordering on watery. Logan huffed, his face was so close that Roman could feel the breath.

Then, Logan’s lips were on his own and suddenly Roman could care less about eyes.

“Logan,” Roman breathed, smiling when he pulled him forward into another kiss. He turned to pepper more along his jaw bone. Logan giggled. Roman tried to stamp the sound into his brain.

“You’re amazing, you know. Amazing, smart, beautiful, so beautiful,” Roman whispered, half out of his mind as he tugged on the hair at the nape of Logan’s neck.

“Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking?” Logan managed, though it came out a bit garbled.

“Nothing can addle my brain more than your beauty already has,” Roman replied instantly, pulling Logan in again.

Behind the window of the balcony, a blue sweater clad boy adjusted his round glasses and gleefully took a five dollar bill from a pouting spider.

“I told you all they needed was a little push,” whispered the glasses boy.

“Fucking finally,” replied the spider, not missing his five dollars all that much.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logince #ts roman #ts logan #fluff #all the fluff #only fluff #I did my boy Logan dirty in the last fic so #I wrote this

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jeonqukie · 4 years

Text

PLAYING CUPID / 01.

SYNOPSIS / Consistently overshadowed by your older sister, you expect your days in high school to be filled with plastic smiles and apathetic peers with hidden intentions. Everything changes when four of the most popular guys in school join you and your best friend for lunch on the first day of school.

FEATURING / Kim Namjoon; appearances by Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES & TAGS / high school au, freshman reader, senior namjoon, student council president namjoon, best friend jungkook, lots of fluff, and some angst.

WARNINGS / Graphic and mature language, slight age difference/gap (to clarify, oc is 14-15 yrs old and namjoon is 17 - first part is rated pg); list will be updated as fic is updated accordingly.

WORD COUNT / ~10.3k

NOTES / I am a day late in posting this and I want to let you guys know that this is... not edited at all and I will be looking through this every now and then to correct any errors. But I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I wasn’t expecting this to be relatively long, but it was all to set up the characters dynamics and the history behind the reader and Namjoon’s relationship. Any feedback is appreciated. To repeat, I’m so sorry this was super late. Please expect part 2 to be up in ~2 weeks. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

All rights reserved © jeonqukie (formerly known as aiscka). All (or portions) of my work may not be reproduced, redistributed, reclaimed, translated, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“You’re Sena’s little sister, right?”

You’d be a damn millionaire if you made a dollar for every person on campus tried to break the ice with you. It was a severe understatement to say that your older sister was known around town. She was vice president of the student council, president of the debate club, and the best player on the varsity volleyball team. All of the teachers and faculty adored her, every girl wanted to be her, and every guy wanted to be with her.

For the longest time, you assumed your sister was a celebrity on campus.

You were so wrong.

It was because you never met him. You’ve heard his name so many times whenever your sister had sleepovers with her friends or when she was on the phone with a friend, whispering so softly into the receiver, afraid that someone would find out about that she had a crush on him. You were perplexed because you thought your sister was a very forward person; she had so much confidence talking to so many guys who desperately wanted her attention yet somehow her palms would sweat over him.

“Hey, you know who Kim Namjoon is?” You would sit at the cafeteria for the first time with your best friend, Jungkook, who had devoured half of his ham and cheese croissant sandwich. He looks at you and he would raise one brow.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s obsessed with hyung.” But Jungkook sees the genuine confusion form on your face. You catch a glimpse of your older sister who sat on the other side of the cafeteria, thumbing a reply on her phone while her friend nudges at her when she sees the notorious posse that every girl swoons over.

It was a scene right out of a movie.

At that time, you had the faintest idea who they were, but you were quick to find out why they were so well known around campus. Jung Hoseok was the senior of the group; he was a dancer and was featured in numerous music videos by well-known artists and he had an extensive list of choreographers willing to work with him. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin were inseparable; they were juniors who ran the school newspaper and the school yearbook – Taehyung being in charge of the photography while Jimin being in charge of the organizing the yearbook staff. Meanwhile, there was Kim Namjoon; student council president, valedictorian of his class, member of the honor society and numerous organizations on campus.

“Wait, you know who Namjoon is?” You were curious whether Jungkook knew of him, not exactly knowing the guy.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s been my next-door neighbor for god knows how long. His folks and mine go out for golfing twice a month.” You just nod to his answer when you are shoving a chocolate moon pie into your mouth.

But your mouth instantly goes dry when the four guys appear right across from you and Jungkook are seated.

“Gukie!” Hoseok exclaimed at the sight of Jungkook still devouring his croissant. “Look at you! Finally, you’re with the hyungs in high school.” The tease made Jungkook’s ears go pink and you feel your own face get hot; not because of second hand embarrassment, but because you can see everyone’s eyes on you – the two freshmen who had no right to be sharing a table with, what you can only assume, the four most popular guys on campus.

There were many times where people would only want to get to know you because of your sister; girls wanted to get close to you because you were had a cool older sister and boys wanted to be with you because they were so eager to come over to your place and obsess over Sena.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had no interest in her. As a matter of fact, you met Jungkook when you were in middle school and took a swimming class and later found out that you two were in the same class and bonded over your competitive nature in swim class.

“Who’s this? You got a girlfriend on your first day already?” You and Jungkook exchange a look of disgust with each other and create a sensible amount of space for each other to establish that you both see each other as friends.

“Oh my god, wait – you’re Sena’s little sister, right?” Hoseok corrected Jimin who had made the assumption you and Jungkook were an item. Jungkook can see the way you scrunch your nose from his periphery, and he decides to answer for you instead.

“This is YN. She’s… literally been my best friend since middle school.” Jungkook introduces you to the four people right across from you. “YN, this is Hoseok – well, I call him Hobi-hyung. This is Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung. I’m pretty sure you know Namjoon-hyung because –”

“ – school council president.” You interrupt because you didn’t want Jungkook to reveal that you had been inquiring about him earlier. “I remember because you made that welcome speech this morning at the assembly.”

Namjoon is rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and you resume eating your packed lunch, despite losing all appetite because you are surrounded by so many people did not know. They weren’t terrible people, but you weren’t mentally prepared for such strong personalities and dynamics to be introduced all at once. You felt like an intruder – a fly on the wall – because everyone carried on with their normal conversations; Jungkook and Hoseok were talking about plans for the weekend and then Jimin and Taehyung were already drafting out ideas for the yearbook. Meanwhile, you sat in silence as you ate your tuna salad sandwich, reading a new book you were gifted over the summer by your parents.

“Let me know when you’re done.” A voice catches your attention, and you stop all chewing. “The book, I mean.” Namjoon clarifies and he sees that you are already halfway done with it. “I read it a year ago and I’d like to hear what you think of it.” He offers you a heartwarming smile and you nod once, returning the same grin.

“I started it a week ago. I really like it so far.” The conversation is light and drowned out by the loud voices beside you.

You never really pinned him as a reader.

“So, how’s your first day so far?” He inquires and you honestly thought that the conversation was… over. Normally, that’s how all the conversations go when people find out your Sena’s little sister. They feign their interest in you and instantaneously ask about her.

“It’s… nothing special.” You admit, smoothing your fingers on the pages of the book. “Most of the classes I have before lunch, Guk’s with me. Now –”

“Now, her large, wrinkled brain is going to abandon me and get into those advanced program and honors classes.” You are rolling your eyes at your best friend who whines that you decided not to take the same classes as him.

“We literally have homeroom, social studies, and PE together and then we see each other for breaks and lunch. I think you’ll live.” The group laughs which earns quite a bit of stares from outsiders, but they seem to be completely unfazed by it. Everyone turns back to their own conversations and, usually, your social presence isn’t necessarily sought out by people.

It wasn’t until you hear another inquiry fall out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“What do you have right after lunch?”

“Biology.”

“Honors biology, by the way. Can’t you spare just one regular class for me? Or does your GPA really matter that much to you?” Jungkook complains and you are left ignoring his comments.

If there was one thing that your older sister taught you (something you actually agree with) is that colleges love a good GPA and joining as many clubs as possible. You even remembered how she’d phrase it for you; college admissions officers will cream their pants when you score that 4.0 GPA and do something out of the box from the rest of your peers.

“Or just get smarter, Guk.” Hoseok poked fun at Jungkook, earning a shrug from Jungkook. Namjoon, on the other hand, is smiling from ear to ear at the dynamic between the elder and the youngest of the group.

“Let me see your schedule.” Namjoon urges as he spots your clear binder which has your printed schedule on the cover. You push over your binder to Namjoon who is scanning your binder; he reads through your name, your birth date, the list of teachers you had for the semester and the classes assigned to you.

You feel indifferent about the sudden attention on you, especially from Namjoon; a mere stranger who everyone obsessed over was so piqued by you. You observe the way the corner of his slips curve into an impressive smirk as he glances over at Hoseok.

“Guess who we have for calculus at the end of the day?” He slides over your binder where the rest of the group examine the rest of your schedule, only for Hoseok to find a coinciding class with you.

“How the fuck are you in a senior’s class? Are you some math whiz or something?” Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sight of an advanced calculus class on your schedule. It was one of the things you were proud of you; you were good at math – it happened to be Sena’s worst subject and your parents often joke what she lacked; you had gained immensely.

“Yeah, YN’s cracked, hyung. I don’t understand. I remember in middle school they had to make arrangements for her to get into a pre-caclulus class or some shit like that.” Jungkook finishes his fruit cup and gathers all of the trash on site to toss over to the closest garbage bin.

Namjoon is sliding your binder right back at you, brows raised at you with the same grin he had on. He stares at you for what seemed like a long time – to you, it seemed like a long time and he is glancing back down at where your fingers brush against each other and he pulls away, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I – um, saw that you were taking orchestra too.”

You nod and chew on your cheek, self-conscious all of a sudden about your appearance because you are very much aware that Namjoon is examining every aspect of your face.

“Yeah. I mean, I already know how to play the piano, so I might as well learn how to play another instrument, right?”

“No – yeah, you’re right.” He stammers and he folds his hands together only to be interrupted by Jimin tossing over a bag of pretzels at Namjoon.

“Bell’s about to ring. Pretzels was all they had left. We need to head to physics soon.” Taehyung and Jimin are swinging their bags over their shoulders. Hoseok is too busy on his phone, showing Jungkook a video of his new choreography.

Suddenly, you are receiving a plethora of notifications in the depths of your jean pocket. Your fingers unlock your phone only to reveal a series of text messages from your sister.

Sena [12:29]: Did you just spend your entire lunch with Kim Namjoon?

Sena [12:32]: Earth to YN?

Sena [12:39]: GUK IS FRIENDS WITH ALL 4 OF THEM.

Sena [12:41]: You have officially made a fucking impression to this school. I’m so proud of you. You’re sitting with us at lunch tomorrow.

“Guess I’ll see you later, YN.” The bell doesn’t descend you back to reality. Instead, it was his voice that brings you to pack up your things into your bag. “You might want to sit at the back for Mr. Lu’s biology class; he’s a spitter.” Namjoon swings his backpack over his shoulder. “He reuses the same lesson plan every year. If you need any help with them, you know who to look for.”

As you’re swinging your own bag, Namjoon leaves you with a wink as he is exiting the doors of the cafeteria into the school hallways.

Now, you understand why the entire world was obsessed with Kim Namjoon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Mrs. Kang, your calculus, is a middle-aged woman who didn’t look like she had aged past thirty. You found it incredibly hard to believe the woman was nearly in her mid-forties who had three kids of her own. She looked like a stern woman but had a good heart from what you remembered; she only wanted what was best for the class even though it meant tormenting them with a shit ton of homework. “I don’t need to go over the syllabus with you bunch. As you can see, this is a much smaller class than a regular class because not a lot of people pass this class.”

Silence fills the room from when you had first arrived. You were one of the last few people to find your seat because your class was all the way on the other side of campus. It seemed like everyone in your class were juniors or seniors. There were so many of them who knew each other from previous classes; they were all huddled in their own designated spots in the class, so you sat at the front of the class because all the seats at the back had been taken and it may help that you’re at the front because it’ll force you to pay attention.

“There’s a lot of material to cover and there’s only so much I can do. Since we’ve implemented the new block schedule, we’ll only be seeing each other for an hour and a half every Wednesdays and Fridays. First thirty minutes will be on new material, next thirty minutes will be spent on practice problems, and then the last thirty minutes will be working with your partner on getting your homework started. I’ve figured getting a head start on the homework for the last thirty minutes will be helpful just in case you or your partner are lost, you have me to ask for assistance.”

Someone’s hand raises up in the air out of your periphery.

Mrs. Kang points to them. “Yes, Namjoon?”

“How do we determine who are partners will be?”

“Please tell me we get to pick our partners.” Mrs. Kang is already turning her back to the class as she searches for a box that had been hidden behind her computer monitor only for her shake the contents of the box.

“The last time I gave the students the opportunity to choose who their partner was, I’ve written a disciplinary notice for academic dishonesty twice a week.” Mrs. Kang prefaced, and the room goes silent. As she continues ruffling through folded papers inside the wooden box, you are already aware of how the partner system is going to work.

Everything was going to be randomly assigned.

“We have 26 of you total which means there will be 13 pairs.” Mrs. Kang announces, and she walks around the class starting from the left where the person is picking a folded paper out of the box. Each person who had unfolded their paper sat patiently until Mrs. Kang had completed distributing the paired assignments around the room. She is fetching a pen and paper as she sits on her desk.

“Alright, our first pair is –” Mrs. Kang looks up to see two people raise their hands; it had been Hoseok and a girl with the prettiest bangs named Mimi. Mrs. Kang continued jotting down the pairs until you scanned the number on your own paper; a large 12 inscribed on your already tattered paper.

You hear Mrs. Kang’s voice as she calls out for the twelfth pair and you raise your hand. You don’t see anyone in your periphery raise their hands, so you turn your body around to search for your partner.

Your body turns cold and still, but you can feel your cheeks get warm at the sight of Namjoon seated down at the back with Hoseok with his hands raised, revealing that he had pulled the same number as you. The thumping in your heart is loud and it beats hard as each moment passes.

Both your hands lower and you are trying to turn your attention back to the front of the class where your teacher stood, but you can feel his eyes on you. You remembered scolding yourself, unaware of why you were so nervous and so shocked to be his partner – he saw you nothing more than another classmate; someone to help him with his assignments.

“Perfect! Since we have our pairs, everyone will be sitting next to their partner from now on; I don’t care where it’ll be. I just need you to sit with them, so we’re not scrambling at the last thirty minutes of class to find them.” Mrs. Kang says sternly, clearly not wanting to waste time in this class. “Shall we begin?”

“How do you already have so much shit to do?” Jungkook laid comfortably on your bed, shoving down salt and vinegar potato chips that your parents had bought from the store last weekend. “Do you like never take a break from reading or what?”

“It’s just a really interesting book.” You say as you flip through the next page and bite into an apple.

You two laid on your bed, basking in the afternoon sun. Normally, you two didn’t have this much down time. Last summer, you two volunteered to be camp counselors to lessen the boredom you two would endure. It was either that or spending every goddamn weekend on the golf course with Jungkook’s parents and yours.

“I was thinking of trying out for the track & field team.” Jungkook informs you and you resume reading. “Namjoon-hyung tells me that the team runs right after school and it sounds fun. Events are early though, and we all know I’m not an early riser.”

The mention of Namjoon urged you to reminisce back to your last period that day. Mrs. Kang mentioned that she wasn’t going to let the class immediately sit right next to their homework partner – thank god. You just wouldn’t know what to talk about with him; you don’t really know what to talk about with people because they always somehow led the conversation back to your older sister.

But, at the end of class, he did manage to keep up with you as you hastily packed all your items into the bag before you darted outside of the classroom. You planned on walking home with Jungkook and you two would meet at the front of the school. Namjoon, somehow, caught up to you in time.

He had grabbed your arm and greeted with you with his million-dollar smile. “Hey,” He breathes, and you stop to offer him a meeker and shier smile.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“You’re meeting with Guk?”

You give him a single nod before he hands you two pieces of paper. You’re curious as to what they are, and you see the words parent’s consent form along with the health forms to give to a doctor – for a physical.

“He’ll know what they’re for.” He reassured you and you hold onto the forms. “Thanks for that. I have to go; I have a meeting in five minutes with the student council.”

“I’ll be sure to give it to him. Was there anything else you wanted to tell him?”

He shakes his head, and he starts reversing his steps, clutching onto the straps of his bags. “I – um, I’m really looking forward for calculus – you know, the whole partner thing. I must be really lucky to be partnered with a cracked, math whiz like you.”

Now, you’re blushing because you weren’t really sure if you were supposed to be flattered or offended.

And he read you so well because he is suddenly panicking but he hid it. He stops his reverses, and he takes one step closer to you.

“I’ll see you and Guk at lunch tomorrow, if that’s alright?” He hums; his voice sounded so soft and clear to you – no one can hear a single thing he had said to you, but you heard him bright as day. Suddenly, you feel a grin creep up to your mouth and you nod once. You had regained some of your confidence back and Namjoon can see it. “Cool, well, I’ll see you ‘round, YN.”

“Earth to YN.” Jungkook snaps at you and you pay attention to your friend who is lying next to you. “Did you hear a single thing I said?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. I dozed for a couple minutes.” You admit and he scrunches his brows, dismissing your moment of silence.

“I was asking how it was like to be in a class of seniors.”

“There’s no difference, honestly.” You begin your thought. “It sucks just because I don’t really know anyone, and everyone knows everyone.”

“Yeah, but you have Namjoon-hyung and Hobi-hyung.” Jungkook reassures you. “They’re basically your friends now because we’ll be hanging around them a lot.”

You weren’t sure if you were looking forward to or nervous to be spending a lot more time with the older guys. They made a good first impression on you though; they’ve probably only mentioned your sister’s name once. Granted, it was only thirty minutes spent together, but it was so much better than most of the conversations you’ve had with everybody else.

“That’s true. I have Namjoon as my homework partner, so I’ll… definitely need to get along with him.” You chuckle under your breath as you read through each line without comprehending a single thing. Your mind had been so clouded with the idea of Namjoon and you weren’t sure why.

Jungkook decided not to stay for dinner that evening even though mom made two pans of lasagna to feed a village. However, he did help you and your mother prepare it. Your mom was pretty insistent on it, so you promise that you’d be giving him some leftovers for lunch the next day. Your dad arrived home next; it was a typical evening – he beelined to your mom, planted a kiss on her cheek and patted your back before he hastily moved to the office to continue working. Sena arrived home from school at a later hour than usual before she was already setting the plates on the dining table.

“Alright, Guk, final offer.” Your mother says as she is pulling out two piping pans of lasagna out of the oven.

“No, thanks, Mrs. LN.” He respectfully declines before he is swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Mom’s expecting me home right about now for dinner. I’ll definitely ask YN to pack me up some leftovers though.”

“Alright.” She waves him a goodbye before you are showing him to the door. “Walk home safely.” She bids him a goodbye softly as she pulls the foils off the pan.

“Pack me an extra serving, please.” Jungkook pleads and you roll your eyes before he already made his way out of the door.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!”

“You did not tell me Jungkook was friends with Namjoon.” Sena settles herself on the dining table and you sit right across from her, waiting for your mom to begin serving everyone a slice of lasagna.

“Quite frankly, I didn’t know Jungkook even knew Namjoon either. I’d say I’m just as surprised as you are, but I really don’t know what the fascination is with Namjoon.” You lied through your teeth as your mom serves herself first (she called dibs on the corner piece) and you decide on getting the smallest piece since you weren’t so hungry that evening.

“Are you talking about Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s son? Is this the same Namjoon we’re talking about right now?” Your mom’s curiosity is evident in her tone, taking small bites out of a side salad she had prepared.

“Yes, and Sena is hopelessly in love with him.” You shove the lettuce into your mouth as you wait for your lasagna serving to cool down momentarily.

“How can you not be in love with him?” She breathes out hastily. Your dad has his brows raised in disbelief; his daughter talking endlessly about her crush.

“He is a nice boy; responsible, kind, gentle, polite, seems to get things done, really cute too.” Your mom lists his never-ending advantages, and you stray away from their eyes because you hate the admit that you find him incredibly cute.

“Can we please talk about something other than this boy?” Your father is already exhausted from listening to you talk about Namjoon and you don’t blame him, really. “How was the first day for you, dear?” He refers to you and you are still chewing on your dinner.

“I have three classes with Guk. I like all of my classes so far; I can already tell calculus is going to be… a lot of work. We have a test every week and we mandatory study sessions after school for the exam to qualify for college credits. Thankfully, I have a partner to work with just in case I don’t understand anything. There’s also –”

“Who’s your partner? Maybe I know them.”

Your silence is defeating, and you look at your dad who is waiting for his answer and you dart your eyes back at Sena who is piecing the puzzle in her head, so she drops her mouth open, gasping at your lack of a response.

“No fucking way!”

“Language, please, Sena.” Your mom scolds.

“I mean, you’ve been in the same classes as him before! I’m sure you’ve been in a group project with him or something. You guys are in the same clubs. I don’t understand why you haven’t asked him out.” You weren’t so sure what motivated you to blurt it all out because your sister was definitely a good catch, but the obsession with him was getting way out of hand.

“That’s ridiculous, YN. I would never ask out a guy. I don’t even know he likes me that way.” Sena is taking small bites out of her dinner and you sigh to yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “If there was only a way for me to find out. It’s not like I have a sister who’s partners with him in a class – oh, she’s also best friends with his next-door neighbor! How convenient.”

She eyes at you where you decide to focus on your meal, but her eyes are pleading and desperate.

“I… am completely eliminating myself from this predicament, Sena. If you want to ask him out for yourself, you should do it. Besides, who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing.” Your voice is sincere and genuine, and you hope she pushes all of her fears and insecurities to the side to do something about her feelings.

“It would just be so much easier if I knew if he thought I was cute or something.”

“Everyone thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s not the point, YN. Listen, how ‘bout this? You don’t even have to drop my name in there; just ask what his ideal girl is like or something… or let Guk do the work! I’m sure he already knows the answer. Just help a girl out, please, YN.” You sigh defeated because your sister was really good at convincing.

It wasn’t really hard to figure out what type of girl Namjoon was interested in or… if he was interested in girls. All of this was easier said than done and you were going to rely on Jungkook a lot on this.

“I’m not going to prioritize this.” You surrender and she is giddy in her seat.

“YN, you are the best sister anyone could ask for.”

Several weeks have passed since you had last had your conversation with your older sister. You made an emphasis that you weren’t going to prioritize delving into Namjoon’s personal life. You were purely on a calculus homework and best friend’s next door neighbor relationship with him. But you finally get an idea of what Namjoon likes in a girl when he had to leave early for calculus to get pep rally ready for the first football game that Friday.

Unknown [14:34]: It’s Namjoon. Got your number from Guk.

For some reason, you feel your heart leap out of your chest at the text message. You’re still seated in calculus class working on the first few problems of your homework without him. You look up to see that Mrs. Kang is too busy assisting other students confused with the problem. Honestly, you were confused too and were unsure with your methods, but your mind had been too focused on your cellphone the entire time.

Namjoon [14:35]: Should’ve gave you the heads up about this. Sorry about leaving you alone to work. ):

You [14:36]: It’s no big deal. Seems like everyone’s confused, tbh.

Namjoon [14:36]: Fuck, mb. It’s the first game of the night, so I’m kind of required to be here. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

Namjoon [14:37]: I have some down time after setting up. Maybe we can work on it then?

You [14:37]: Just tell me the time and place, I’ll be there. (:

Namjoon says that he had somebody covering his duties for the student council before the game began. You see him rushing inside a computer lab that remained open for students to use. You had reserved a table at a secluded corner because you wanted to be away from prying eyes. He spots you trying to reread your notes and erase the umpteenth method you had tried for a word problem you were stuck on.

He admires the way your brows knit together; lips pursed as you began redoing your method on a separate piece of paper. He keeps standing, not taking his place on the chair right next to you – too afraid that you would interrupt your flow. You feel a presence right next to you and he nearly gives you a fright and you realize just how tall he is.

“You scared me.” You inform and he chuckles softly at how endearing it was. He takes the seat right next to you where he is already pulling out notebook and pencils from his bag.

“I left my book at my locker. Do you mind if I share your book with you?” You look at your open textbook and nod at once pushing the textbook closer for both of you to see. “Thanks.” He scoots much closer than you had intended and when he strips his hoodie off of him, you can smell his cologne and how good it smelled on him.

You ignore your thoughts and scurry back to the problem you’re on.

“What problem did you end on?” He inquires and you point to the exact word problem you had been staring at for the past thirty minutes in class.

“It’s been bugging me. I didn’t want to ask Mrs. Kang because I wanted to figure it out myself.” You were so stubborn, he thought to himself. You had only completed a total of eight problems when there was so much more to do for the weekend. For some reason, you decided to stay stuck on that problem for god knows how long and Namjoon found it adorable – one of the few attributes he liked about you.

He reads the word problem and begins trying to solve the problem on his own. After several tries, he had figure out what you had done wrong and he so desperately wanted to point it out to you. Just when he was about to open his mouth, you turn to him and shake your head, covering your ears with your hands.

“No. I refuse to let you tell me what you did wrong. I can figure this out myself.” You whisper harshly. Namjoon can’t help but respond with silenced laughter because this is exactly how your homework sessions have been going; just the both of you refusing to let the other correct each other until the other figured it out themselves.

“Can I give you one clue?”

“Nope.” You popped your ‘p’ to accentuate just how persistent you were. You stuck out your lower lip as you examined the word problem again and he looked at the glossiness of your mouth and the softness of your cheeks; how he desperately wanted to lay his own petals right on yours as his fingers crawl to your face.

“So, I have a question.” He starts.

“And I can try to give you an answer depending on what it is.”

“Are… you and Guk by any chance – y’know?” His question is vague, but you definitely know what he is asking you because lots of people were never really used to the idea of a boy and a girl ever being best friends; for some reason, people assume they always end up dating and never talking to each other again.

“God, no. I love him, but I don’t love him like… I’d date him.” Your cheeks were fully flamed, and you weren’t so sure why you were so embarrassed to discuss this with Namjoon. All the times you had to clarify people on your relationship with Jungkook, you were almost disgusted and quick to reassure people that you two were nothing more than friends.

“Well, is there anyone you were willing to date?” Namjoon is pushing the boundaries here and he knows it very well. But he feels like he has gotten to know you well enough in the past few weeks to ask such a question.

“Not that… I know of really.” You try to remain composed when you respond to his question, but you feel his eyes burn into your soul, so you’re doing everything you can to avoid his stare. But Namjoon continues to stare right into you. He really can’t take his eyes off of you. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced what it’s like to be attracted to –” Just when you had mustered the confidence to look at him, he is quite literally staring so deeply into your eyes that it is taking your breath away.

He is making you eat your words right now; you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to…?”

“I don’t what it’s like to be attracted to someone.” You sigh softly; your breath fanning him. “On the contrary, I don’t think anyone’s ever really been attracted to me.” A chuckle comes erupting from your mouth, shaking your head. “Fortunately, that’s not really my goal in high school.”

“You don’t know that.” He quips.

“I don’t know what?”

“If someone’s been attracted to you before.” You shake your head in disbelief, chewing on the inside of your cheek knowing fully well that he was doing this because he wanted to seem like a dick for not disagreeing with your self-deprecation.

“Well, what about you?” You pose the question to him. “From what I understand, most girls and guys I pass by swoon every time you pass by.” He is chuckling to himself this time and he is very much aware of his desirability among his classmates. “You have plenty of choices; I’m sure you have the opportunity to date someone you must really like at this very moment.”

“That’s what I’m hoping on. I’m just not quite sure how she feels about me.” You feel like you were unraveling his darkest secrets and you were happy he considered you close enough to reveal who it is or give an inkling to who it is.

“Do I know her by any chance?” You’re hoping that you can narrow down who he is interested in. Because you barely knew anybody, you knew this would be a piece of cake.

“Yes.” He replies simply and he is staring at you. “You know her very well, YN.” He sighs, hoping you would finally understand what he is alluding to.

“Is she in my grade?” You were really hoping that the answer would be no or else you’d be breaking some terrible news to Sena that evening after the football game.

Namjoon nods slowly and he can see how you are not picking up his hints. He sees the slight disappointment in your face for whatever reason. Suddenly, he is perplexed because, in his eyes, he has made it pretty clear who he was interested in from the get-go. Many people should make the assumption, too, considering there was only one person he had his eyes on – only one person he was giving his attention to.

“Is it… that girl in Guk’s class who –”

As you are trying to list out the girls in your class who has interacted with Namjoon, he is in complete disbelief that you have not figured it out at all. How much more clueless could you get? He is sighing now because is frustrated. He admires your persistence when it came to solving difficult word problems in calculus but it’s frustrating when you are unaware of his feelings for you.

Just when is about to confess his feelings for you, you are greeted with another presence calling for both your names.

“So, this is where you two have been.” Jungkook ambles hastily towards your table and you grin from ear to ear when he is taking out his algebra textbook. “YN, one last chance, please. I didn’t pass my last quiz which brought me one letter grade down and my dad’s going to make me quit track & field if I don’t –”

“I told you I’d help you over the weekend, dumbass. I’m busy getting shit done with Namjoon.” You breathe softly before he is hugging you on your side and you grunt at how much stronger he has gotten. “But you’re buying me coffee for a week.”

“Sick.” Jungkook simply replies before he begins unpacking some of his homework. “You excited for the football game, Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook queries and Namjoon is baffled because the moment is gone. One interruption from his next-door neighbor and the moment’s lost.

“Fuck yeah.” Namjoon replies and he sees that you’ve suddenly lost interest in the subject. You were subconsciously listening on their conversation while you are back to resolving the complicated word problem right in front of you. “Will you two be going to the game?”

“I’ll go, but YN won’t go because she hates crowds and, honestly, she doesn’t know how the game.” You exhale in response to Jungkook’s statements. Namjoon observes that you decide to move onto another problem, wanting to tackle the word problem at a different time. “Everyone you know will practically be there. Why not give it a shot?”

“We usually have half of the bleachers reserved for the student council since we’re in charge of tickets and concessions, so it won’t be that big of a crowd.” Namjoon attempts to entice you with modifications to appease your concerns. “Plus, we’d all get to hang out with each other; no homework, no calculus talk – just… us.”

Jungkook is stunned to see you agree.

The night was a lot more enjoyable than you thought it would be. Namjoon waived off the entrance fee for the game the moment he mentioned that you and Jungkook were volunteers. Taehyung was already on the field taking photographs of the football players and cheerleaders while Jimin took photographs of the students on the bleachers. You even passed by your own sister who was busy with her own group at the entrance entertaining friends, families, and alumni into the bleachers. Meanwhile, Namjoon was overseeing every single aspect of the event; he was mainly at the concessions, not wanting to create so much traffic around it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You offer your assistance before he notices that you have your hair all tied up. “I’ve washed my hands if that helps.” Namjoon can’t hide his smile and he offer you a pair of food safe gloves.

“I’m usually one to decline help, but we really need it. Let’s see – Yuqi really needs to go use the bathroom, so you can be in charge of the drinks and chips right now.” You take your station at the drinks and chips stations. It was going faster than you had expected; people ordered too fast or too slow – there was no in between. There were people who were very certain with their order which you appreciated. Then, there were the people who were very fickle with their order and you can’t help but stand awkwardly to wait for them to decide.

“I can’t believe you roped me into helping.” Jungkook grumbles under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t rope you into anything.” You take the five-dollar bill from the student and offer them back their change.

“Yeah, but you made me seem like a real asshole sitting there not helping.” You can’t help but laugh at Jungkook’s pout because you knew just how much he wanted to just spend his time on the bleachers, watching the game with his hyungs. But he was stuck here helping out the student council while most of them were on their bathroom breaks.

“Once someone’s back from their bathroom break, you can go back to your game.” You soothe him and the chaos outside the booth is starting to die down. Less and less people were coming because they’ve all satisfied their craving and the game was building up – it was pretty close, so you understand why Jungkook was in there sulking with you. When you turn to look at Namjoon, hoping to convince him to let Jungkook off the hook, you don’t see him there.

You look out the window to hear your sister’s pretentious giggle. She laughed so differently around him – acted so differently around him. He stood right next to her with the rest of the council members, giving them a big pep talk. She looked at him like he was an angel who fell from heaven. Their conversation ends and the rest of the council members disband except Sena and Namjoon. They are having a personal conversation and you can’t read mouths, but you can’t tear your eyes away from their beaming faces.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You clear your throat, speaking so softly so only Jungkook can hear you.

“I’m all ears.”

“Does – does Namjoon have a type?” You say out of curiosity. Jungkook raises a brow at you, curious as to what motivated you to ask the question.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never really heard hyung talk about any girls… or his type, to be honest.” He hums and he is staring at you stare at your sister and Namjoon. “Why’d you ask?”

“It’s… for Sena.” It was the truth, but your own curiosity was definitely a motivating factor. “She’s been obsessed with Namjoon since… as long as I can remember.” You breathe out, hoping no one else can eavesdrop on your conversation. “She’s been talking a lot about him more since she found out I knew him, y’know?”

“Huh,” Jungkook leans on the table and folds his arms. “Why doesn’t she just tell him?”

“Apparently, she needs some sort of confirmation that he thinks of her that way too, so she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

“Why don’t you just ask him then?” Your silence is clearly something Jungkook wasn’t expecting because you never actually considered it once. “He’s a pretty easy-going guy; just ask him and he’ll be honest.”

“We’re not on that level of friendship yet, I guess.”

“Well, I consider you guys close enough to ask that kind of question.”

“Then, he’d just assume I’m being friends with him because my sister was using me.”

“Well, are you?”

“No.”

Your own answer stuns you almost. Just a couple weeks ago, you knew nothing of Namjoon and, suddenly, you are on a level of friendship where you think you can confide him in anything. Perhaps, now, you really understood why everyone obsessed over him; why everyone wanted to be friends with him, why everyone wanted to date him, why everyone just wanted to be noticed by him.

“Then, feel free to ask him yourself.”

You hadn’t really worked up the courage to talk to Namjoon about his dating life. You repeated to yourself that it wasn’t really a priority to delve into what goes on behind the scenes with Namjoon. You were in a consistent state of going to school, doing your homework, reading books, and retraining your body to try out for the swim team next semester.

But the time came when you got sick for an entire week and missed so much material, especially calculus material.

But you were eternally saved by Namjoon himself.

Namjoon had requested to drop off the homework sheets and printed copies of his notes over to you. Everything was so detailed, and you were impressed with how organized everything seemed to be. You didn’t know what motivated you to reach for your phone on your bed and dial in his number. Maybe you felt like it deserved a personal thanks rather than a typed one.

“YN?” His voice on the other line sounded so surprised and there was so much noise on the other end. “Give me a second.” He excuses before you hear him move to another location, somewhere much quieter.

“How many times do I have to thank you for being an absolute saint?” Your voice sounded so stuffed. The flu was getting to you really bad, but you were recovering well. But he chuckles into the receiver and you are flipping through each page he had printed before you fall onto your bed, sighing blissfully. “I’m serious, Joon. I’ll say it a million times if I have to.”

“You’ve pulled my weight when I was off doing council work so much. I’m sure if I got sick, you’d do the exact same thing. It’s what partners do.” Namjoon is smiling from ear to ear; he was glowing, and no one was there to really witness it. “I – um, did you see my note attached at the back?”

You are now flipping through the pages frantically until you see a handwritten sticky note that read: “We have a quiz on the Monday you come back. I’m free this weekend if you wanted to study with me.” And there was even a little smiley face attached to it and you are experiencing a whirlwind of emotions.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” You can feel the panic starting to bubble in the pits of your belly, but you were trying not to let it show. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t rob you of your weekend. It’s just – It’s just too much.”

“I’m happy to do it, Ace. I promise.” The guy deserved everything in the world because he was too generous for the world and you weren’t so sure what you did to deserve such kindness.

“Ace?”

He chuckles embarrassingly into the receiver, chewing on his cheeks. “I – uh, it’s a nickname. I hope you don’t mind.” Suddenly, butterflies erupt from your stomach and there is a glow on your cheeks that you are very much aware of and you are curling into your bed with a shit eating grin on your face.

“I – I like it.” You sigh and Namjoon leans on the wall as he observes the rest of his friends and council members enjoy slices of pizza, taking a well-deserved break from preparing for the pep rally event coming up next week.

“So, is that a yes to a study session this Saturday?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and hesitant because it feels like you’re doing something wrong when you were just having a quiz session with your calculus partner.

“Great. My place or yours?”

Namjoon insisted on coming over to your place because you were still recovering. Coincidentally, your parents had the weekend trip away with your dad’s work colleague for a wine tasting event. You debated whether you wanted to tell Sena that Namjoon was going to be arriving in an hour, but you soon realize that she was out with her friend’s house for a movie night session.

You had the place all to yourself and you were relieved and frantic all at once.

You busied yourself the entire day to make yourself look decent; brushed hair, brushed teeth, clean face, and fresh clothes. You throw used tissues into trash bins, changed your sheets, and kicked all of your dirty laundry into your hamper that had fallen on the carpeted floors. As you are jogging downstairs, you discover you have no food in the fridge, so you’d probably have to order a pizza or something to share with Namjoon.

Immediately, you question why you are so desperate to make the place and yourself so presentable when this was a mere tutoring session with your calculus partner?

The doorbell ringing prompts you to peek through the peep hole and you see him; he is wearing a regular white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He has his hoodie thrown over his shoulder as he begins texting a message on his phone, waiting for you to open the door for him.

When you unlock the front door and open the door for him, you smile timidly at him.

“Hi,” You greet him nervously.

“Hey, Ace.” He waves before he examines how you look. Despite your red nose and tired eyes, he missed seeing your face for a week; he really did. You stood awkwardly fiddling with your fingers and he can sense just how anxious you are, so he decides to tread lightly. “May I come in?”

His tone is so polite which effectively allows you to open the door wider for him to enter. You are nodding and you close the door shut behind him, ensuring that you have locked them. “I – um, I can’t really offer you anything to eat since my parents are out of town, but we can order pizza, if you want. It’s what my sister and I usually do.”

“I’m more than okay with pizza.” He permits and you nod and begin walking to the living room. “Will we be working here?”

“We can work anywhere.” You announce. The conversation is so light, and you hate how quick yet reluctant you are to your responses. “I – I can get you a glass of water, if you’d like. I’ll just get my things from upstairs and bring them down to the living room.” You inform him and he nods as he is making himself comfortable on the couch.

You are scurrying off upstairs to go get your materials and catching your breath because you think you were holding your breath the entire time. You’re stalling because you’re making a check list of every single thing you need for downstairs to avoid seeing him or talking with him. Just when you are about to exit, you see him at the bottom of the stairs. He is examining each family portrait on the wall.

Your face is hot because you can only imagine how terrible you looked like a child, so you jog downstairs with your study materials to gain his attention. “I never really realized how much Sena looks like your dad.” Namjoon comments and you stop in your tracks, only to examine the portrait he is looking at. “Exact same nose and smile.”

You purse your lips into a thin line because you are reminded once again that he is probably only interested in getting to know Sena – there was always that possibility. You were so familiar with this feeling of discussing your sister with other people because – yes, she is absolutely beautiful and intelligent and there was no denying it.

“But you are like your mother.” He comments as he takes a closer look at your mom who seems to be so much more youthful. “The way she’s smiling here looks so much like the way you smile.” He describes and you allow him to explain more by staying silent. “When you smile, your nose kind of crinkles and the corners of your eyes creases and your dimples are a lot more –”

Your throat seizes because you’re flattered and aware that he has perfectly examined your appearance and all the features in what he sees. He grows silent and he is chuckling nervously, scratching the back of his hand to distract himself.

“Sorry that was… super random.” Namjoon clears his throat, and you are shaking your head before you point towards the living room.

“I – I’m ready now.”

Now, you’re desperately hoping Sena doesn’t come home too early from her friend’s house.

Hours have passed since Namjoon have gotten you caught up with all of the materials and have assisted you through last week’s homework sheets. Namjoon was impressed with how you can keep up despite your recovering condition. One minute, you were sneezing and wiping your nose clean and, the next minute, you have your lips pursed and brows furrowed as you are writing equations down on a separate piece of paper.

“I got a question for you.” Namjoon begins and you are still too busy piecing everything together for a specific word problem you wanted to master.

“Shoot.”

“Are you always this focused?” You are typing things into a calculator before you are erasing things on your paper and you turn to look at him, showing him the calculator.

“Is this the right answer?” You ignore his question for a moment.

He nods and you grin at him before you proceed onto the next word problem.

“If I’m a week’s worth of lessons behind, yes, I’m focused all the time.” Namjoon is shaking his head and he is in awe at how you are so quick at writing all the information; he notices how neat your handwriting is too. Namjoon checks his watch and realizes just how late it has been and he clears his throat as he looks out the window to see the sun has gone completely down.

“Will your sister be coming home tonight?” Namjoon notices that you stop writing – you stop solving the word problem that you are tackling because you, suddenly, realize that he is asking about your sister.

“She’s probably still at a friend’s house or something.” He senses the atmosphere has changed and you shift your mind back to the practice problem right in front of you. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason – well, I honestly thought she should be taking care of her recovering sister.” You snicker at his statement.

“She’s a great sister, but she’s not that great.” You quip, biting your tongue at how ridiculous he sounded. “I think we can all agree that she’s smart, charismatic, and ambitious. I will admit she’s a really considerate sister too, but she thinks caring for her ill sister is a parents’ job – not hers.”

“Okay, okay, I get it she’s amazing but not… amazing.” He raises his hands to surrender and his words coming out of his mouth urged you to inquire about his relationship with her.

“If you think she’s amazing, why don’t you date her?” The words came spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably. Maybe it was the meds, you thought. You see the grin disappear from Namjoon’s face into utter confusion and he tilts his head for further clarification. “What I mean is that… you’ve known her and worked with her for so long and she’s a great girl – I’m obviously really biased considering she’s my sister, but you two would make a… great couple.”

You didn’t believe that you were talking about this to Namjoon. You didn’t think you would have the guts to discuss this with him, but the opportunity came up and you took it. But you are faced with such an unfamiliar emotion. True discomfort arises at the pit of your stomach as Namjoon’s brows furrow together and he is shaking his head with the same boyish grin he always flaunted to the world.

“Ace, she’s great, but I… honestly see her as a friend.” He isn’t so sure how many times he’s reiterated those words before. Because little did you know, so many people have asked the exact same thing. Peers and colleagues in their class were very much aware of Sena’s not so little crush on Namjoon for quite some time.

“Well, I mean, isn’t that how all relationships really start? Becoming friends and then possibly developing feelings for each other? Most people always see each other as friends until one of them is aware of the others’ feelings, right?” Your tone was so quizzical. You were treating this conversation like it required rationale and logical reasoning to tackle the issue at hand.

But this wasn’t a problem the mind can solve.

“That’s the usual circumstance, yes.” He admits and he sees that you resume back to the worksheet. “But I’ve known Sena’s had a thing for me and, quite frankly, I’ve been interested in someone else for a while, remember?”

“Someone far more interesting than Sena?” You are in disbelief. You are trying to eliminate other people in school who is on the same social standing as your older sister. “That’s… not possible.” You breathe.

“You’re wrong.” You stop writing because you are retracing your steps on the word problem you are solving. He finds it so endearing how you can’t seem to understand that he is utterly into you, but you are so lost in numbers.

“No, don’t tell me, Joon. I’ve told you this hundreds of times –” You lift your head to look at him to accentuate your reminder; you didn’t want to know what you wrong, you wanted to solve the problem yourself unless you demanded the assistance yourself.

Normally, Namjoon would comply with your request. It was so rare for him to point out your mistake, but he figured this was the perfect time to do so.

“You’re so stubborn.” He breathes before he dives in.

You don’t complete your sentence. Because when you turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes, you are met with his pillowy petals on yours. Your cheeks heat instantaneously, and you can feel your heart leap from your chest.

His kisses were soft and slow. You don’t realize that he has already cupped your cheeks. You’ve never kissed anyone ever before but, for some reason, it was like you knew how to move your mouth against his. He was gentle but there was a certain control he possessed. You pull away momentarily to breathe and, suddenly, you feel the heat of his tongue swipe on your lower lip. A shuddered whimper leaves your mouth before you are regrettably pulling away from addiction.

“N – no, that’s not possible.” You’re still in denial from the events that occurred. “Sena – she’d be so… betrayed if she –” Your brain is glitching and it didn’t help that you can taste the mint of his lips on yours.

“Listen, Ace, for one moment stop thinking about Sena and answer me honestly.” Namjoon positions his body to look straight onto you. “Do you feel the same way I do or not?”

“I don’t – I don’t know.” You shrug before avoiding his eyes. “I – I shouldn’t like you.” You sigh defeated and you are covering your face. You were ashamed not because you like him, but because you didn’t understand what you were really feeling, and you didn’t understand what you wanted to do. “Why – why do you like me?”

“You’re hardworking and incredibly intelligent.”

“I know plenty of other girls who are… exactly the same.”

“Your tastes in book are impeccable. You’re selfless to a degree that I can’t quite comprehend. You keep to yourself, but when you speak your mind, it leaves a lasting impression. Listen, YN, I can keep going, but you can’t… keep doubting my feelings for you.” Namjoon justifies and it was a tough pill to swallow.

You were too stunned to say anything. Too many emotions flooding your brain and it took too long for it to process, so you remained expressionless. Namjoon found it incredibly difficult for him to read your face.

“Ace, it’s really hard to tell how you’re feeling right now.” He points out and you understand just how awkward you sat there; head spinning with so many things to say but very little coming out of your mouth.

“I – I don’t know what you want me to say.” You admit. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting out of me with a confession like this. If I don’t feel the same way, what would’ve happened? If I do feel the same way, what – what was I supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, do you actually feel the same way as I do?”

“I – I do.” You croak to respond to his inquiry. “I – I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to myself either, but… I think I like you.”

A wave of relief washed over Namjoon, but there’s a bit of relief for you too. It’s out in the open now, and you know that there’s nothing really you can do about it. There’s a very content grin plastered right across his handsome face, but it slowly transforms into a frown as he realizes that, despite your feelings for each other, nothing will change between the both of you.

“Namjoon, we can’t be anything more than friends.” You realize the unfortunate circumstances the both of you were in. “It’s not fair to my sister. I don’t think it’s very fair to make me choose between you and my sister. I – I don’t think it’s very fair that… you’re in this position.”

Your heart swelled just moments ago, and you can feel it crumble into pieces as the words come spilling out of your lips.

“I understand.” He agrees softly and you perk up at his acquiescence. “I’m not going to force you to be in that position, Ace.” The reassurance softens your tense form, and his fingers cradle your chin, lifting up to be at eye level with you.

“But when you’re ready to reconsider... us, I’ll be waiting.”

↪ Please stay tuned for the next part!

#namjoon fic #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader

200 notes · View notes

tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Old Money and Brooklyn Babies

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Summary: “Those summer nights seem long ago. And so is the girl you used to call The queen of New York City. But if you send for me, you know I'll come. And if you call for me, you know I'll run” - Lana Del Rey (Old Money)

Genre: Modern/Realistic Au, Angst, like Fluff if you squint, rich people au??

Warnings: Yandere-ish themes, LANGUAGE, drinking, sexual tension (but no smut!), unhealthy relationships, heavy topics, maybe at the end if you think about it maybe depression?, Pathological liar (s?) are involved, your brain has been warned #trust no one.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 7.3k Words

A/N: Ahhh this was such a challenge for me to write but I hope you guys enjoy it! PS I’m sorry. And I’m really nervous to post this because I don’t know how it will turn out askldfhsalkdfh

Other: Masterlist

Loving him was intense, a whirlwind of emotions that could only be compared to a hurricane, a tornado. There was a time when loving him was explosive, a train on its way to be wrecked. The feeling hadn’t disappeared.

You knew it when you saw him standing on the staircase, a new love around his arm. You felt the room buzz when he saw you. Now, standing in this bar of sweat and alcohol where you could barely pay for your next drink, you wondered how things went so wrong.

Just a few weeks ago, you were the queen of New York City, the heiress everyone was talking about, and now you were a nothing, just another nobody in a sea of other nobodies.

Did he see it in your eyes? Did he see the desperation? The same look you had given him a few months ago, the kind of look that he had described as beautiful and exhilarating. Now he turned away in disgust. You tightened your grasp on your glass.

It was your fault.

You had ruined it all. Like you always did.

Six Months Ago

1 A.M. wake up.

Obsess over what you were going to do for the day and plan it meticulously in your mind.

3 A.M.

Get out of bed.

make yourself a cup of coffee and stare in the mirror for a while.

You stood tall, you knew you were a beautiful woman. After all, everyone had been telling you this since you were little. You could easily pass for royalty, that’s what you always thought and you wore it well.

You jutted your chin out, running a hand along your jawline. Then you made sure to put every hair in place, perfectly positioned. The mirror had a small crack in the corner, you made a mental note to buy a new one.

You put on your dark shades sunglasses so that you could barely even see inside. Nonetheless, you stumbled around your apartment like a model, refusing to look unfashionable even in the cold abyss of your living room. Who knew if someone was peering through the windows? That’s why you kept it as dark as possible.

You tripped over the couch. Since when was that there? You asked yourself angrily, as if you hadn’t been living here for the past year, a pretty bubble world built up carefully over a year of work and dedication.

Reality couldn’t catch you here. You stumbled around blindly for a while and then found the door handle.

5 A.M.

With a decisive click, your day had begun.

Astteria Jewelry, a company your father had invested in dearly when he visited the states. You hadn’t been there, but you’d heard a lot about the visit from the newspapers.

“Hello?” You cleared your throat, tapping on the top of the glass counter until someone came over, looking a bit annoyed. The woman’s face was twisted uncomfortably before she plastered a kind smile on her face.

“How may I help you?”

“Yes, yes, I need to try those on.” You pointed to the chunkiest rings in the case. They were encrusted with large and small diamonds, all glittering beautifully.

The woman shot you a skeptical look. You just peered down at her through your dark shaded glasses. She was really straining for that pleasant smile now.

“Of course.” She said tightly and reached under, unlocking the case, and bringing the rings out.

“Ah, I quite like this one.” You gasped happily. The rock on your finger was hard to even hold up, but you liked it well enough. “I’ll take it, as you probably know, my father will be quite happy with this gift.”

“That will be $247,000.” The woman pursed her lips as she removed the ring and placed it back in a box.

“Perfect.” You declared.

“I need your card.”

“Nonsense! Do you even know who I am?”

The woman shook her head, her irritation visibly growing.

“That’s quite alright. You know, my father is a great friend and investor in this company. He has often bought for my mother from this very fine store. I think he even gave us a discount at some point?” You said casually. “My father is the chairman of Sinopec, I think you know it?”

The woman stilled then she looked suspiciously at the door and back at you. “I’ll give Mr. Betta a call.”

“You better.” You snapped back, your patience wearing thin. You were the daughter of Sinopec’s chairman. Everyone knew you, obviously.

The dial tone was especially loud in the quiet store. A few rings and he picked up.

“Yes?” You heard the muffled voice.

“Sir, there’s someone here claiming you gave her family a discount?”

“Who?”

“From Sinopec.” The woman turned away, whispering furiously. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Okay okay, I will.”

“Well?” You turned to her, looking every part the agitated socialite,

“Mr. Betta seems to be under the impression...that you should be allowed this ring and we’ll charge your father.”

“Of course.” You said quickly, taking the box out of her hands and striding out of the store.

Your heart was racing. You felt a weight on your chest and it wasn’t the ring.

Heather was rich. You knew her to be Old Money, everyone did. You always expertly placed yourself next to her in class. She didn’t seem to mind. She was beautiful, maybe even more beautiful than you, but you would never allow that thought to come to fruition.

Heather held herself like a commoner, to put it lightly. She got her morning starbucks, waited in line, ordered and waited patiently, got on a bus, commuted to school and got to class early. You realized a big part of being a ‘normal’ person was waiting around.

“Heather, I was also at that party the other night.” You said to her as she scrolled through her photo album.

“Oh? Really?” She chewed on gum, the sound smacking across her lips. You felt an itch of irritation, but pushed it away.

“Yeah, really.” You drawled.

You carefully placed your ringed finger close to her line of sight. She glanced down for a second then back at her phone, then back at the ring. She put down her phone.

“Where did you get that ring?” She inquired, suddenly very interested in you. She picked up your hand and surveyed the ring from several angles.

“Astteria.” You said nonchalantly. “My father is a good friend of Simon Betta.”

“Who’s your father?” She glanced upwards with a confused look.

“Zhao Dong.” You said easily.

“The chairman of Sinopec?” Heather looked up, confused. “I’m surprised I didn’t recognize you! You’ve changed since I last saw you.”

You smiled and nodded at her words.

“I know. I spent some time away.” You looked nonchalantly at your nails.

“Well you look great, Y/N.” She continued with a small smile.

“Thank you, I know.” You tossed your hair. “Tell me, Heather, are we close? Would you consider me a close friend?”

“I…” She stuttered awkwardly. “N-not close close, but I know your father and...your mother?” She interlaced her fingers and looked away, embarrassed. “Truth be told, I haven’t been keeping up with Sinopec as of late.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” You assured her. “Now, I’ve been looking for a charity to donate to. My dad has been bugging me about the yearly donations.” You said the words so easily, like water out of a waterfall.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, I was wondering if you know any because...well, I know you’re into those charities and non-profits.”

The sound of pages being turned filled the room and you turned back to your work. You didn’t even bother reading the page or taking notes, you had another mission at hand. Heather turned back to her work and after a while, she cleared her throat slightly.

“There’s actually...a gala for an organization that helps fight for LGBTQ+ rights. Would you like to come? I could get you an invite if you just send me your address.” She lowered her voice.

You glanced around. Everyone was focused on their work so you nodded.

“I’m really into helping out when I can, you know? Here I’ll give you my number-” you stopped, thinking it over. “Actually, give me your number.” You prompted.

“Oh? Alright?” She recited her number and you typed it into your phone. You felt her heated stare on the old phone in your hand.

“It’s a friend of mine’s old phone.” You said. “My father has yet to send me the latest one.”

“I see.” Heather narrowed her eyes and went back to taking notes.

You sent her a quick hello and smirked, going back to write down notes. Columbia College had been quite pleased to hear about all the non profit work and extracurriculars, not to mention your straight As in school. It was what you deserved.

“Y/N!” Heather waved you over and you descended the stairs with a smile.

There stood Heather in the middle of this grand ballroom. You tried not to look impressed.

“Heather.” You greeted her with a smile.

She pulled you into a quick hug and then grabbed two champagne glasses. Gold rimmed and bubbling with clear yellow liquid, she handed you a glass. The room was decorated lavishly with red drapes covering dark alcoves and chaise lounges positioned in the corners. These lounges were occupied by men and women all dressed to the nines. This type of luxury was what you deserved.

“You look gorgeous!” She complimented as she took in your appearance.

You had borrowed a dress from your much richer friend, though you personally believed that you pulled off the look better than her. You were the most beautiful after all.

“Ah, thank you. You look exquisite as well.” You brushed a stray hair from your face.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You turned to the voice and were met with a familiar face. You were shocked to even see him at a place like this. He hadn’t struck you as this kind of person.

You had first met Park Jimin in a club. The lights were dim and you could barely make out his face, but you knew he was beautiful, just like you. The club was a world of beautiful people, all pressed against each other and sweating.

“How old are you?” He asked, looking you up and down as you sat at the bar. You smiled slyly, swirling your drink to the pounding music.

“Probably too young for you.” You shouted over the music.

His hands went to his hair. “Listen! My hair looks gray but I can assure you I am a 25 year old man in good standing!”

You laughed. He seemed nice, genuine. It was a breath of fresh air. His entire aura screamed that he was important, yet his personality quite opposed this notion. You looked him up and down.

He was a man of stature, standing tall and proud amongst the crowd, his hair was a silver gray, his eyes of a similar shade. Jimin was either high society or had no idea how to have fun. You were a perfect match.

“I believe you.” You replied happily, setting down your drink. “Want to get some fresh air?”

He smoothed down his coat and you wondered why he was dressed so formally to go to a nightclub.

“I’d like that very much.”

“Jimin.” You greeted him happily. He gently took your hand in his and kissed the back.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He said cordially, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“And you.” You bowed your head gracefully.

The music of the gala swelled and Heather cleared her throat. Her eyebrows were raised as high as the bronze arches that hung above you.

“You two...know each other?” She asked, eyeing Jimin.

Jimin nodded. “Yes, we met, achem, a little while ago.” You were grateful he didn’t mention the club.

“Well, Jimin is actually performing tonight, aren’t you?” Heather turned to him expectantly.

“Oh? Performing?”

The man seemed embarrassed by the sudden attention on him. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ah, yeah, well, I’m just singing-”

“Jimin is an excellent singer.” Heather nodded and you followed suit.

“I’m not that great. My mom just had enough money to bribe the manager.” He joked and you chuckled along.

“Yeah, I get that.” You agreed. “But I’m sure you’re an amazing singer, Jimin.” You looked him up and down, a smile growing.

“He is!” The other girl chimed in before Jimin could protest. The clock chimed 8:00 P.M. and you glanced upwards.

“I think that’s my cue to go.” Jimin announced, waving off a waiter who offered him a glass.

“Alright! Best of luck, Jimin.” You bowed your head politely and he did the same.

Heather watched the interaction intently. Once he was gone, she started laughing which caused you to look over at her sharply.

“You guys really just eye fucked each other for a whole five minutes. I didn’t think it was possible after seeing Anna’s reaction to him. At least it was mutual this time.”

“Anna?”

“Yeah, the daughter of the guy who made Adobe or whatever.”

“Oh, of course, I remember her.” You said easily, grabbing another glass of champagne.

You were going to need a lot of alcohol to make it through this night, but these luxuries were what you had always wanted.

“I would be careful, though, Y/N.” She glanced around. “He doesn’t have the best track record with women, though he attracts them like bees to flowers.”

“Oh I see.” You followed her eyes. “But from the way you look at him, I can assume you’ve been one of those women?”

She narrowed her eyes and then chuckled, though the sound was a bit strained.

“Me And Jimin? No, no. I can admit he is handsome, but we would never make a good pair.” Heather was quiet for a moment and then she crossed her arms, her gaze growing distant. “He’s too caught up in himself. You remind me of him.”

“I beg your pardon?

“Forget I said anything.”

The music began to swell and you looked up from your conversation as the curtain on the stage began to lift. The din of the room died down. A man with a rainbow pin and black tuxedo stood center stage. He held himself with confidence.

“Thank you, everyone, for attending this charity event for the Audre Lorde Project. Today, we are so grateful to be able to present Mr. Park Jimin as our entertainment for the night. If you donate, he will sing a song of your choosing!” The MC leaned in. “Just don’t be inappropriate, folks.” He winked.

“Now presenting….Park Jimin!”

You watched as the familiar man walked on stage. He looked quite dashing, sporting a rainbow tuxedo and white shoes. You were sure they must have cost a fortune. His rings alone must have cost at least $21,000. Then his shoes, oh, his shoes. They were perfectly clean, so white they could reflect the dim lighting.

People were quick to go up and pay for a song. The songs started at $1,000 and you pursed your lips, checking your wallet. Did you have enough? Yes, of course you have enough, you’re the daughter of Sinopec.

You set your mind on deciding a song. Heather began chatting to you about school, but you were hardly paying attention. You started drifting towards the box that held the donations. Heather moved along with you, unknowing to your next move. You straightened, holding up a hand, which quickly silenced Heather, and zeroed in on the box.

Withdrawing your money, you wrote a quick check for $1,000. Then you haphazardly tossed it into the box. Then you wrote your song on the sign up sheet and went back to the center of the room. You waited, tapping your foot impatiently. You wanted everything now, but you could try to be patient for once.

Heather continued talking about...whatever she was talking about. Halfway through her rambling, a familiar tune began to play. Your eyes shot up from where they were resting on your drink to the stage. You could feel Jimin’s heated stare.

“I think I'm too cool to know ya. You say I'm like the ice, I freeze. I'm churnin' out novels like Beat poetry on Amphetamines.” He sang and his voice was a perfect tune.

You felt your toes curl pleasantly as his sweet voice tingled your eardrums. Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey. You eyed him up and down, taking note of a particularly expensive looking Rolex watch.

As you made eye contact with him through the crowd, your heart thumped an untimely beat. Mine.

Jimin left hand in hand with you. What a sight to see. A couple that no one had expected, one out of the blue. You giggled, shifting over in the back of the cab to Jimin’s place.

His hand slowly inched its way over to your thigh and gave it a light squeeze. Your eyes stayed trained on his face. The dark city streets casted eerie shadows over your figures, but you felt calm nonetheless.

Your hand reached out and touched his cheek. A wordless communication. May I? To be answered with you may. And he leaned in, diving into your arms, melding his lips against yours like you were meant to be. You both gasped for air, but it was a battle for dominance and neither of you were about to back down.

You bit playfully at his lips, devouring his strawberry lip balm like it was your last meal. He pushed against you so your back thumped against the door. His hands found your hips and he pressed into you tightly.

Your hands gripped his hair and you refused to part from his lips, the cold metal of his Rolex dug into the fabric of your dress. You wanted that watch.

The taxi slowly pulled up to the apartment complex and you both hurried out. Jimin haphazardly overpaid the driver and you both took a break to get your bearings before walking into his high end apartment building.

“Hey, let’s try to look like we didn’t just make out like animals, okay?” Jimin patted your arm.

So you went about smoothing down your hair, pulling down your skirt a little lower, and patting your cheeks gently to try and, in vain, dispel the light flush.

You both stumbled your way inside, laughing drunkenly. He helped stand you upright, a strong arm wrapped around your waist. There was a jingle of something falling to the ground, but you paid it no mind. He helped you all the way up to his apartment where you leaned against the wall while he searched for his keys.

“Shit!” He cursed, sinking down beside you, his back thumping against the wall. “I lost my keys.” He grumbled.

“Ah, that’s fine.” You laughed, “Just my luck.”

“You seem pretty lucky, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky, I guess, but I want a lot more than luck, you know?”

“And what do you want?”

“You.” You answered quickly.

And that was the first time a lie had registered in your addled brain. Because that wasn’t true, no, not at all. Jimin was wonderful, handsome, smart, but you wanted something more material than these flimsy emotions.

You wanted money. As you watched his expression melt into a lustful haze, you flexed your fingers and clenched them over and over. You could play his game of emotions, you could do it. You thought as he went in for another kiss.

It was a cold morning. Jimin had black out curtains. You could hide from the world very nicely here. You were awake at 1 A.M.

After a long night of searching and making out, the searching part of which you found far more enjoyable, you found his keys. He had dropped them in the lobby on the way in and the desk attendant had grabbed them. You went through your routine, replacing yourself with a pillow in his arms.

“Huh. I always thought that only worked in movies?” You tilted your head and went back to your routine. After a while of getting ready, you sat beside the bed, watching him.

He breathed steadily. You glanced around, finally deciding to explore. You stood, picking up discarded clothes and observing his apartment. It was big, bigger than yours.

There were expensive things everywhere. You could guess he was old money. A glint of gold in the morning light caught your eye. You walked over, carefully not to disturb the floorboards. On his bedside table was the Rolex watch.

“You can keep it.” His gruff voice said. “It’s not important to me, but you’ve been eyeing it all night.”

“Why would you give this to me?” You asked, lifting the watch to look at it in the slim sliver of light that cracked through the curtain. You wanted to applaud his awareness and observation skills.

“There’s something about the desperation in your eyes, Y/N. It’s exhilarating, beautiful, new. People are so...complacent, so okay with their situations nowadays, especially when you’re in positions like you and I. I’m giving it to you as a promise that this wasn’t just a one night thing. I’m serious about this.” Jimin rolled over in bed. “I like people like you, Y/N. I fall in love with people like you.” His words were soft, his expression was stone cold.

And you knew what game he was playing at with extravagant promises and carefully chosen words, you were playing the same game. So you simply let him win.

You could do that, for him, because as much as you were using him to help yourself gain a boost, your heart was beginning to lead you astray. And you could not let that happen. Still, that scent of cinnamon and the taste of strawberries would likely always remind you of him.

Perhaps it was obsession that took you back to his place over and over again. It wasn’t so much him, but the idea of him. Maybe it was the idea that he was rich, that he had money, that he was handsome, but all that aside, you were perfectly incompatible.

Jimin was old money, old money that was long gone. For as long as Jimin remembered, his father had worked very very hard to run his company into the ground. Whether it be with the drinking or the extravagant parties, his money was gone.

He had an unquenchable thirst for money. Some could call it an unhealthy obsession. So when he met you...oh boy. You exuded this confidence, the kind only old money could have. He wanted it.

Call him cruel, but he didn’t mind stepping on a few toes to get where he needed to be. He didn’t mind crushing some woman’s poor dreams. He really didn’t mind. You were another stepping stone. You were supposed to be just another tool for success.

In his alcohol induced state, probably drug induced state as well, he came to the conclusion that you two would make quite a pair indeed, a power couple. But he needed you to become more powerful. It would be a mutually beneficial relationship.

“I don’t know, Jimin, I can get pretty nervous at interviews.” You had told him in response, but there was a gleam of excitement in your eyes, he didn’t read too much into it.

“I think you’ll be fine.” He patted your back with a smile.

Looking back, he never should have gotten you that interview with the New York Times. It was a poor decision on his part. Maybe if things had gone better, if he still remained ignorant of his situation and drank himself into debt like his father, he would be able to continue living his fantasy world. However, this would not be the case. He was not someone who was afraid of getting his hands dirty. And oh how dirty they were to become.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N, for joining us.” The reporter settled down across from you.

“Ah, it’s a pleasure.” You smiled. The woman smiled back and prepared her notepad.

She was a hardworking woman. She wore flats and a nice outfit for this interview, but as you analyzed her posture and position, you knew she would most likely prefer something more comfortable. She slumped ever so slightly, her lipstick was well applied but her nail polish was cracking and half peeled.

“I’m Anna and I’ll be interviewing you.”

“Anna? As in Anna, Adobe Inc’s daughter?”

“Yes!” She nodded happily. “I’m glad you remember me! You know, I only met you once really and we were children so I’m not surprised to see you’ve grown into a beautiful woman. Let’s see here…”

The interview began.

“What was it like, growing up with Zhao Dong as a father?”

“Well, Anna, he was absent a lot.” You said without a second thought, thinking back to your childhood sadly. “But he tried his best. I think I get a lot of my outgoing nature from him. He’s really a role model for me.”

“And do you have the same goals and aspirations that he has for the company?”

You chuckled lightly at the question.

“Oh dear, oh no.” You said, like it was some preposterous question. “Honey, he is all about the money. I am nothing like that. I’m all about human connection.”

Anna seemed pleased by this. Her eyes lit up and she hurriedly went to write down notes.

“You seem like such a nice, down to Earth, person, Y/N, how do you get this mindset after being raised so...well, rich.”

“I’ve gotten used to a lot of luxury, yes, but this does not take away from the fact that my father was always strict on discipline. He put a huge emphasis on respecting others and respecting situations we cannot comprehend. It is a valuable lesson I take to heart.” You nodded seriously, your hands gently folded in your lap.

Anna was, once again, pleased by your answer. You seemed to be telling her the right things.

Soon enough, your face was on the cover of every newspaper. The rich heiress to Sinopec is here in New York City! Or Y/N Dong, the future of the wealthy and elite.

You could bathe in the attention all day. In fact, you bought about 15 copies of the story and spread them around your apartment. You meticulously cut out each and every sentence that called you beautiful, complimented you, or even mentioned you and pasted them to the blank walls of your home. Even bad press was still press. After you were done with your hard work, you collapsed on the sofa.

“Knock knock!”

You jolted upright. You looked around your apartment. The curtains were drawn over the windows, just like they always were. You looked around. Your apartment was a mess.

The floor was littered with pieces of paper, the fridge stood open and there were expertly placed scissors just lying on the ground waiting to be stepped on. You blinked wearily. It was a disorientation akin to being hungover but not quite.

“Knock knock?”

Your neck almost snapped with how hard you looked at the door. Shit. You immediately stood up, groaning in pain as you ripped your hand from the couch. You had somehow managed to glue your fingers to the fabric and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

You started madly sweeping the paper, quite literally, under the rug. Then you threw open your windows and were reminded of why you kept them closed. They faced a brick wall. A lovely sight to see.

You frowned, but rubbed your eyes and carried on in your cleaning frenzy nonetheless. The knocks sounded once more and you finally answered.

“One sec-” You cleared your gruff voice. “One second!”

You tripped over the coffee table and you withheld a scream of frustration. Instead you threw your hands up in anger and let out a silent shout.

“Everything alright in there?”

“Yup! Just- give me- a moment-” You held your stubbed toe and every curse you knew flew through your head.

You then ran to the mirror and quickly brushed through your hair. Finally, you made it to the front door, looking as presentable as possible.

When you opened the door, two familiar people shoved their way in.

“Ah, this place is smaller than I expected.” Heather announced, setting down a gift bag, Jimin entered after her with a shy smile. His face conveyed Heather’s words.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s only temporary. I used to live down at Wall Street but then there was a pipe problem with my neighbor and you know...water damage is a real problem.” You clicked your tongue unhappily and they nodded sympathetically.

“That’s completely understandable.” Heather said, moving to get a closer look at your walls. “Interesting decorations.”

“I like words of affirmation to hang around my apartment. It helps build self confidence.”

“Looks like you already have enough of that from the article I read.” Jimin chuckled, fingers brushing over a sentence plastered on the wall.

“Oh, you read that?” Your cheeks heated up. “It was nothing, really.”

“You’re practically everywhere, Y/N.” Heather pointed out. “It’s like knowing a celebrity.”

“But I’m no celebrity.” You said humbly. “I’m just a normal person.”

“My normal person.”

Possession. It was a common theme in your growing relationship with Jimin. You quite liked it. Your heart would always thump. A smile grew on your face and you gave him a quick kiss, one he returned gladly.

“You guys are disgusting. Get a room.” Heather huffed. “Anyway,” She turned and grabbed a gift bag as you and Jimin parted. “I’ve got this gift for you. Call it a congratulations for being on your first ever cover. I was only 15 when I was on mine, but whatever.”

“You didn’t have to.” You exclaimed, but happily took the gift. You threw out the tissue paper like an animal. “Oh! Earrings! I love them!” You exclaimed, surveying the expensive earrings. You assumed they must be at least $30,000.

“Well, it’s just a little thing. Also, I forgot to mention it, my birthday party is next week and I’d love for you to come! I’ll send you the invites!” Heather interlaced your fingers with hers and you shot her a wry smile.

“Of course, we’ll be there.” Jimin answered for you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Oh! I forgot to ask, has your father seen your article?” Heather inquired, it was a simple ask, one that had you twisting your hands nervously.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he has.” You said softly. “But he’s very busy as you know, so he just hasn't gotten in touch yet!” You assured her and when she nodded, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You didn’t want to know much about Jimin besides his family, his money, and how he looked. You just wanted him to be yours.

Jealousy. Yeah, that was definitely the green monster, as green as a freshly mowed lawn at bucking-fucking-ham palace. This feeling in your stomach was definitely jealousy. You told yourself you couldn’t feel jealous of Heather.

Heather even explicitly said she’d never fall in love with Park Jimin, but that was a real trick, a trap, because everyone fell for Park Jimin. There was something about the way she held onto his arm that had you transfixed, how she casually brushed his side when reaching for something.

You were seeing green and red. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her fucking hand for one second, even when other people were trying to get your attention. The party was high caliber, celebrating the birthday of said woman. But you could care less that it was her birthday, that man was yours.

You were like a predator, stalking the perimeter before swooping in for the kill. You puffed out your chest and walked straight into their little conversation.

“Jimin, Heather.” You greeted them with a warm smile, but inside you were screaming. It was a primal urge.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could make it!” Heather pulled you in for a hug and you both balanced your champagne in one hand while doing the awkward one armed move. “Jimin and I were just discussing the latest actions of the Audre Lorde Project.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” You smiled slyly, all teeth and no glimmer of joy in your eyes to be found. “I just wanted to personally deliver my gift to you.” You thrust out the package.

“Oh no no, you don’t have to! Besides, if you do, then suddenly everyone will want to come over and I just want to talk to you guys for now.” She lowered her voice and smirked.

You nodded, though your fingers clenched around the handles tightly. You trudged over to the gift table and haphazardly threw the bag among the other gifts.

It wasn’t anything special, just the ring you had gotten from Astteria. You had wanted to get rid of that old thing anyway. You glanced at the two, still talking. You gritted your teeth and stormed away to the bathroom.

You and Jimin did many things together. You learned his favorite color, his mother’s name and her favorite song, you learned about his life, his backstory. However, your favorite thing to do with Jimin was to make out.

Now, this might seem shallow, but making out with Jimin was like heaven on Earth. He knew how to move his lips, touch just the right spots, to get you melting.

He was the sun in a New York City heatwave and you were a popsicle melting below. It was truly a sight to behold, although Heather would disagree. As your hands would play a game of untying ties with his suit, your mind played a different game, a far more deadly one.

“I love you.” You reeled him in. He followed you like a moth to a light. “I love you a lot.” You declared and he simply fell away under your grasp.

You had always enjoyed the sight of people falling beneath you as you stripped away their exteriors to find what made them tick.

“You’re mine, Jimin, all mine.” You breathed heavily, gasping for breath as he moved to your neck.

He made quick work of the clean skin, littering it with purple marks, delicately crafted by his skilled lips. His teeth grazed your ear, making you suck in a breath. Your, his, rolex watch pressed into his warm skin.

“Tell me, Jimin, tell me you’re mine.” You said desperately and he groaned in delight.

“I love it when you talk to me like that.” He peppered kisses along your jawline. “I love that sound, begging for me like a dog.” He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer, but you didn’t mind. “I’m yours, baby, but only if you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours.” And he dove back to your lips like an animal.

“I’m madly in love with you, Y/N.” He murmured. “And you’re all mine.”

It was a perfect fairytale, but all fairytales need a villain.

I have no idea who this woman is, posing as my daughter. She is an imposter for sure, or delusional. The subtitles on the T.V. read as you flipped through the article that just landed outside your door.

You seethed, feeling your heart sink as one by one, the article undid your many lies. You almost wanted this destruction, because with it came release.

The release of pressure on your chest, from the weight of all these lies. They were carefully built, framing you in the perfect light, but you didn’t want everything to be undone.

“What’s going on?” He picked up the phone. Your hands were shaking. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

“I-I...don’t read the news, meet me outside my apartment door.” You said quickly, your voice quivering. You heard him roll out of bed.

“Okay. I’ll be right there.”

You sent the same sentiments to Heather. You needed to explain this before they found out. You needed Jimin to understand your side of the story. Jimin was yours. No one else should have him. Ever since you’d set your eyes on him, you had known he was to be your newest obsession.

“Y/N?!” Heather’s screeching voice echoed up the stairs and you knew it was too late for her.

“I know what you think about me, Y/N, but I don’t feel the need to flaunt my riches. I may seem like a real stupid bitch, but I’m not.” Heather snapped, slapping the newspaper down in front of you while you waited with Jimin. He picked up the paper before you could stop him.

“Y/N? Is this true?” He asked cautiously, his eyes scanning the page.

“Y/N? How could you?”

“Y/N?” Y/N Y/N Y/N. The chant was dizzying. Everyone wanted a piece of you, damn it.

“Shut up! Shut up!” You cried, breathless.

They both stopped. Heather’s eyes were pure anger, but Jimin looked confused, lost. He abruptly stood and you went along with him. Heather turned on her heel, storming out.

“Don’t talk to me again, freak.” Heather said, her words bitter as she exited into the cold morning air. Mornings were always cold it seemed.

“How many things have you lied about? Are you even Y/N? Is that even your name?!” He questioned, the buzz of anger growing.

“I can’t...I can’t tell you that.” And you couldn’t. You’d lost track a long time ago.

“Jimin! Jimin please! Wait!” You grasped his hand desperately. He turned around furiously, sharply.

“What do you want? You wore your little disguise so well and I, like a fool, fell for it.” His voice cracked.

“I know I’ve lied about-about a lot of t-things, but I know one thing that’s the truth,” You pleaded. “I love you.”

His gaze hardened. “How do I know that’s not a lie?”

And you couldn’t tell him that either.

A pathological liar. Your mother would have been heartbroken by the label placed upon her precious daughter. You would have been offended as well if it weren’t for the objective truth.

Even when Columbia University expelled you for not only lying about grades and extracurriculars, but also just for being an awful person as they tried to lightly put it, everything still hadn’t hit home.

You were beautiful, fit for a queen. It was such a shame, then, when people also found out that you had no money. It made you hungry for the stuff. Now, the trick was to make sure they didn’t find that out.

Your mother had always been a good woman, but your father had easily gambled away all the money saved. Perhaps you got this carefree, flamboyant personality from him?

A narcissist. Not what you had expected as a new label either, but if it was in the papers, it must be true. In the end, all your little escapades had gotten you in a lot of debt, but the banks had just kept loaning you money. You had no idea why. Maybe it was like Jimin said, you had worn your disguise so well.

“Wow, a narcissist, huh?” You studied yourself in the mirror.

Your apartment was always dark, but you felt a particular chill today. You spoke to yourself, everyone else having had abandoned you.

“I don’t think that’s right.” You argued back to no one. “I’m...Y/N...the daughter of Zhao Dong. that’s me.” You said over and over, but you were no longer convinced and deep down you knew it was all a sham, a lie.

One thing had built on another and another until all the lies piled up and you could no longer dig yourself out. Your head was often spinning trying to remember everything everyone had ever told you.

But the thing was, at a certain point, it had no longer been a fib, a disguise. You had become Y/N, the daughter of Sinopec’s chairman Zhao Dong. At a certain point, you had become someone else, and that was all you had ever wanted.

Then you started laughing uncontrollably before sweeping your arm across the counter, sending various beauty products tumbling to the floor. Your body shook.

“No, no, no. It was all a lie.” You giggled. “It was just a lie, you’re just Y/N Y/L/N from a goddamn backwater town.” You slapped your cheeks, hard, as if that could erase all that was done.

It seemed that you were the villain of this fairytale, but you couldn’t quite believe it. As you looked in the mirror, the darkness of the bathroom slowly closing in around you, you could see yourself clearly.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were the evil queen and there was no snow white, just you and your shitty castle. And you were alone. Not even Jimin wanted a thing to do with you, having called your reckless actions disgusting. You had assured him you weren’t a psychopath.

You remembered the conversation on the phone after calling him several times.

“I’m sorry, how can I make it up to you?” You had asked. He had simply laughed bitterly and shifted his phone .

“You’ve already stolen everything from me, Y/N, and I fully intend to take back most of it, but you can keep the watch.” and then he hung up.

1 A.M. wake up.

Obsess over what you were going to do for the day. Fall back asleep.

3 A.M.

Get out of bed.

make yourself a cup of coffee and stare in the mirror for a while.

5 A.M.

Take a deep breath.

Start your day.

You didn’t have a home to return to. You didn’t have anyone who loved you and you most certainly didn’t have a reputation. With your face staining every front page of a newspaper, you had nowhere to hide, but you were just one person. You needed some fresh air, and where to best do that except at the top of the Empire State Building?

You were surprised to brush past Jimin on the way up to the top floor, but you should have guessed. You supposed his mother worked there. Either way, he followed you, asking if anything was wrong. Like a fucking psychopath.

“STOP!” You cried, turning to him as you reached the top floor. There had to be roof access somewhere up here.

“I want to know if you’re okay?” His eyes were kind and you were reminded of how everything had been before.

But you had already hurt each other, the past was past, there was only forward in this meaningless space of nothing.

“Haven’t I hurt you enough?!” You shouted, tears finally making their way down your face.

He pulled you back as you started to search the top floor, which was deserted save for two workers filing out for the night.

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered.

His eyes were furious, a volcano, a matchstick ready to ignite. It caught you off guard.

“Because, even though I hate you right now with every bone in my goddamn body, I would stop you from doing something stupid, like what I think you’re about to do, over and over again. No matter what.” He stopped, words stuttering, jawline clenching as he searched for the words.

“And maybe that’s what makes me the fool.”

He stepped back into the elevator and the doors slowly closed. You couldn’t bring yourself to join him, simply standing in shock at his declaration. And then he was gone. You saw him once more at a club with Heather on his arm, and after that, you never saw him again.

You would sometimes think you saw him; the flash of his silver hair, his figure ducking into a shop, the smell of him when you woke up, the taste of strawberry on your lips but he was never there. You didn’t need the money anymore. You realized...you had just wanted him.

Loving him was electrifying, like a hurricane at times and calm waters at others. You were a train on its way to be wrecked, and you had finally...run off the rails.

Fin

Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine Cashmere, cologne and hot sunshine Red racing cars, sunset and vine And we were young and pretty

Taglist: @thereaderstea , @sadboibts, @ditttiii

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drewexe · 3 years

Note

I really liked Fairy Lights. Could you do something similar with Ten or Hendery? This is my first request, sorry if it's vague.

Preview!

Pairing: ten X fem!reader

Genre: rivals to lovers, fake dating, college au

To be published: 07/11

Includes: yangyang as side character; cameos by sicheng, louis and leon later on; mc and ten being at each other's throats a lot; tiny specks of fluff; maybe slow-burn; more to come when the full thing is published!

Summary: being in the college newspaper club was amazing. writing for the university newspaper was a dream come true. except when it came to your lifelong rival, ten lee. you hated the guy with your whole soul. and yet somehow you ended up pretending to date him. you now officially also hate liu yangyang.

Author's note: hello there, i just wanna say thank you for enjoying fairy lights and for the request! i hope that you will enjoy this as well and i do hope that it won't be too far from what you were hoping for! i chose ten for it mostly because i have this problem where i like bullying pisces men; i know this preview doesn't give much but i felt bad for leaving the message in my box for so long and i am almost ready to publish it so please stick around!

“Why is it so hard to find some interesting gossip in this goddamn college,” your best friend Yangyang whined for maybe the 16th time this week. “I have less than a week to come up with something or I’ll lose my spot.”

“Yeah, well better get digging then,” you said, empathy absent in your voice. It’s not that you didn’t really care, your mind was just a little too occupied with the article you were working on yourself.

Both you and your best friend were part of your college’s newspaper club. Yangyang had the gossip page which meant that every month he had to find the most interesting useless pieces of information that the student body could care about and make them sound important. And you, on the other hand, kept a record of the academic achievements of anyone and everyone in your college.

The piece you were working on at the moment was about the science club. There had been a competition recently and sadly they had lost, so now it was your job to report about it in the next edition of the college newspaper. At the moment, you were working on the closing paragraph and you just didn’t seem to be able to make it sound good.

“Can’t you be a little more considerate and helpful?” Yangyang whined once again, breaking the fantasy that you had built in your head of him not disturbing your work. “Come on, you’re basically famous, there must be something you have heard?”

“Whatever made you think that people would come and share their problems with me?” you raised your eyebrows at him in question. “How do you usually find what to write about?”

“I have a large network of spies who provide me intel about people’s dirty business,” he grinned and you would have smacked him if he wasn’t on the other end of the large table in your club room. Instead, you glared at him. “Okay, I just overhear stuff most of the time and then go around asking until I have enough information. But I haven’t heard anything good enough recently”

Your only response was shrugging as you focused again on the document in front of you. It was quiet for a while longer and you managed to finally write your paragraph. Not ideal, obviously, but it was enough for now and you could go back to it if you came up with something better. Once again, you had almost forgotten that your best friend was in the room. Until he spoke up again.

“You’re a terrible best friend, Y/N. Ten would have offered to help me.” You froze in your spot and slowly looked up at him again, death glare on your face.

“What did you just say?” you asked quietly, tone dangerous as if you were giving him the opportunity to fix his mistake before it was too late.

“Ten would have just shown a little more sympathy, you know?” he went on though. “He would also offer to help me find something, he wouldn’t blow me off like that”

Ten Lee, another member of your newspaper club, was nowhere nearly as nice as your best friend implied. In fact, he was a little bitch that would laugh in Yangyang’s face if he heard him complain about something like this (and you could say this from personal experience). You were very aware of the fact that what the boy was doing was manipulating you for his own gain. You were smart enough to know that. But not smart enough to resist.

“Give me three days and you’ll have something to write about,” you said through gritted teeth. The grin that spread on Yangyang’s face made your blood boil. You hated the fact that he could control you that easily. But you wouldn’t break your word.

“You’re the best!” he cheered, shutting off his laptop as if the fact that you agreed to help meant that he had no more work to do. Infuriating.

“Remember that for the next time you decide to compare me with Ten, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes, adding a barely audible “brat”.

"Of course, of course!" he said cheerfully. "I gotta go meet up with Hendery now, but I'll text you later, okay? Let me know if you find anything good!" he said as he packed his things quickly. You hummed in response and waved at him weakly as he rushed out of the club room.

Three days, of course you could come up with something until then. You were an experienced journalist after all.

#nct #wayv #nct ten #wayv ten #ten imagines #ten x reader

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twinkboimler · 2 years

Note

I’ve got a lot of stuff to ask with that fanfic ask game lol

📚🤔💻💭🍰🖊📥👀😈

📚 Do you read your own fic? If it's been months since posting I do occasionally, but not often! I think I write so many drafts and do so many edits on my writing that I don't have much interest in reading them once they're published because I know exactly what happens.

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic? STARTING. Like, in a perfect world, I'd be writing 1000 words a day. But it's so hard to get myself to focus enough to start writing, even though I love it.

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done? GOD. The funniest part is this scene got cut so I spent hours researching shit I didn't even use, but initially in Postscript, Postspace there was gonna be a scene in the first few chapters with Mike using a microfilm reader at the library to look at newspaper articles as the way he found out that Joel was on Earth. I've never used one, so I did a lot of reading up on how they work, and then I sorta. realized how unnecessary that scene was. SO, a lot of research I've had to do is on how to use technology that's just a little too old for me to have used it- stuff from the 70s-90s.

I do too much research. But at the same time, the research part is fun! I love planning fics, and that plays into it.

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work? Less of a headcanon and more a fact about my writing: these works (unless listed as a series) are all separate from each other. I emphasize this because, in the case of Mike's parents, I might have multiple fics that have them as characters, but they're not the same people to me (his mom in even a worm will turn is a completely different version of that person than the mom in Postscript, Postspace). Each work is a new, separate try at these characters as I work with new themes and play with new concepts.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave). I assume this means my own work lol. I think Overjoyed is one of the most self-indulgent, "I am projecting so hard" fics I've ever written, but it was something I needed to get out. I don't think it's especially good if you aren't me but I'm still happy with it.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP. From the college AU- a flashback to high school:

It is brutally hot and Mr. Stevenson refuses to let them take a break even though they’ve been learning drill for nearly an hour. Jonah’s throat is parched and his back is killing him, and he wonders which way he would fall if he were to pass out, wonders whether it would hurt less to fall on his back with the tenors still strapped to his chest or to fall onto them, his face planting into the dirt. Either option sounds endlessly appealing as the minutes tick by, the sun beating down on him and the rest of the poor bastards in the band.

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on? even a worm will turn is one of my favorite things that I've ever written and I love hearing people's thoughts on it. like. I let my DAD read it. I'm so proud of that fic.

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about? I mean, yeah- I've got some old fics that will never, ever get posted even though they may be nearly finished or long. I've got like 30k of a TERRIBLE ST:TNG Riker/Troi fic I wrote in 2016 that's going to the grave with me.

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate? love angst, love hurting characters so much. having a lot of ideas for star trek fics right now that are just going to be the most painful, tragic stories- unfulfilled love stories, that type of shit. I LOVE a sad fic.

#thanks!!!!#asks #ask game #long post #phebs speaks #phebs writes fic

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svtxsoju · 4 years

Text

00. prologue | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 2.6k words ღ Binu’s Note: hi to anyone who is reading this!!! i’m super excited (and kinda nervous :0) to post this bc i’ve been working on this project for a while now. aaaa i hope there are at least some people who can enjoy it! this is a relatively short-ish chapter but it’s p dense with exposition lol but anyway if ur reading this, thank you i love you!!!

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ Navigation ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Introducing The Front ’s New Romance Advice Columnist: Miss Soju!

We all have an ideal: an ideal type, an ideal first date, an ideal relationship. The problem is love isn’t ideal at all. And sooner or later, we find ourselves sitting on that plastic chair in that tent on the side of the road with an ache in our chest. You’re hurt, confused, and kind of going crazy-- all the tell-tale symptoms of heartbreak are there. And the only cure? Soju, of course!

Finding a decent partner and maintaining a healthy, sustainable relationship is difficult enough as it is. Then layer it with the culture shock of university, where you’re experiencing actual adulthood for the first time without mommy and daddy to hold your hand. It’s enough to make anyone lose their minds! Sure, you could always turn to your friends for support and advice, but in all honesty, they’re even more of a mess than you are.

That’s why Mansae University’s affiliate newspaper, The Front, will be reviving our romance advice column this fall! Each week, Miss Soju will be answering all your burning questions, and that means all of them. Her expertise touches on topics as simple as explaining to that one guy that your love is fated because you passed each other at Yuhaeng Quad, like three times, and extends to more extreme situations that require an anonymous veil, like how to confess to your new boyfriend with the furry fetish that you’ve been severely allergic to animals since you were three and you have no idea how any animals act, let alone… Yikes.

It’s true, college is full of new and bizarre experiences, some we must go through and some we’d much rather avoid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life here. But it’s okay to admit that you need a little guidance through the mystical and confusing world of college dating. Miss Soju has got your back, and she’s not afraid to hit you with that real shit. As she always says, good advice is like taking a shot: sweet on the lips but burns your throat as you swallow it down.

Monday, June 3rd, 2019 3:07PM

“Jihoon, I don’t know if I can do this.”

Name: So Joohyun. Major: Journalism major with a minor in communications. Estimated graduation year: 2021. Desired position: World News Journalism Intern. That was what she had put on her application for The Front’s junior internship program. She had made sure to attach her published articles and to emphasize her interest in-- no, her passion for-- reporting compelling stories on an international scale. Not once in her application did she indicate that she was an expert in love or sex, let alone qualified to give others advice on the subjects! In fact, she was probably the least qualified person on campus for this position, which was probably the most perplexing aspect of the whole situation.

But despite all of that, there she was, sitting in Yuhaeng Quad with her best friend, reading the promo piece she had written for Miss Soju. Jihoon had been ecstatic when he had thought of the nickname back in high school. She had snuck bottles of the alcohol over to his house one night after finals week, and he had drunkenly claimed that the name was doubly clever since So-ju were also the first two syllables in her name. When the newspaper had told her she needed an anonymous pen name, it was the only thing she could think of, mostly because creating a secret identity had made her in desperate need of a drink. She changed her mind. Having a secret identity was equally as perplexing as pretending to know how to spice up people’s sex lives. It was like she was some kind of Love Spiderman. She was not ready for that kind of great power or the great responsibility that came with it!

“‘I don’t know if I can do this’?” Jihoon repeated her words slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order. Can I take your picture? I need to commemorate this moment.”

“Can’t you see that I am having a crisis?” she whined. “The integrity of my career is on the line because I’ve never bothered to go on a date!”

“When are you not having a crisis?” Jihoon laughed. He sat up from lying down on their picnic tarp to give her full view of his smug grin. Originally, he had dragged Joohyun outside in hopes that the perfect summer weather would help relieve some of her stress from the past week. He even found her favorite spot under the shade of an ancient tree that overlooked the stretch of green field. But Jihoon could not call himself a proper best friend if he passed on an opportunity to rub all of this in her face. “This is what you get for chickening out on all our group blind dates! I could have scored that hot bassist girl with the thigh tattoo, but nooo, you always had to put your career first.”

“Sue me for having priorities!” she huffed. Leave it to Jihoon to chalk this all up to karma. Now that he mentioned it though, she couldn’t help but feel like a higher power was taking a piss on her life. Or maybe it was just the shit-eating smile on Jihoon’s face that had her on edge. Joohyun tried to avert her focus to a couple of boys tossing a frisbee around instead, but somehow that irked her too. The idyllic weather, the carefree students, everything that was pleasant seemed to mock her sour mood. She pouted at the ground in defeat, and continued, “You are the first person to know that if I was told that dating and fucking around were going to be crucial to my journey to becoming South Korea’s top journalist by the time I turn 25, I would have become a hoe long ago.”

“Woah, are you gonna start your thot phase for this? Are we gonna have a hot girl summer?” The boy began to bounce excitedly. Joohyun felt it was high time to give him the finger, but she also felt a small smile tugging at her frown. “Easier said than done, though. Remember Jessi from high school?”

“Yeah I remember,” she said with a sigh. High school romance had lured so many of her friends into its clutches, with its enticing promises of sweet chocolates and stuffed animals, and she had helplessly watched from the top of the class as they forsook their grades for boys who didn’t even know what deodorant was. She only shuddered to think of the state of their grades after a nasty break up. It was then that Joohyun had decided that her future was not worth risking over a boy’s attention. “Which is exactly why I never got involved in all that mess in the first place.”

“This must be the gods telling you that it’s time to.”

“What kind of fucked up god sets up a virgin as a love advice columnist?” she asked the sky loudly. If she had known there was anyone listening, she would have insisted that her question was rhetorical and was not in need of any type of response! However, the gods cared not for grammar technicalities on the mortal plane. They just couldn’t resist the chance to respond to someone so openly questioning their decisions with some good ol’ spite. Honestly, with the way things were going for her lately, Joohyun probably should have expected the frisbee flying merrily towards her face, even if she hadn’t just challenge the universe.

“Oh fuck!” Joohyun jerked out of the way and felt the frisbee thunk against her shoulder instead. “Ow.” At this point, she didn’t even have the capacity to be annoyed; she just braced herself for whatever misfortune life threw at her next.

“Sorry about that!” A boy called out, jogging up to them. As he came into clearer view, she noted that he looked far from misfortunate, and also had to remind herself that staring was rude even if someone was unnaturally handsome. His features were soft yet striking, like he had been carefully sculpted from cotton candy. Or maybe a fluffy rain cloud? Joohyun shook her head a little as if that would get her to stop staring so shamelessly. She speculated whether it was the sun that made it look like his blond hair was a glowing halo. Okay seriously, stop staring! He gave Joohyun a sweet smile when he reached them. “My friend got a bit distracted. Now that I’m here, I can’t say that I blame him. Hope we didn’t do too much damage!”

“Uh,” was her captivating reply.

Jihoon, never one to miss such a ripe opportunity, piped up beside her. “She’ll be fine. This is Joohyun, by the way.”

His smile widened at Woozi’s introduction, and Joohyun could swear there was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I’m--”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” They all looked towards the call. The ethereal boy let out a startlingly loud cackle at the sight of his friend, who gave the two strangers a sheepish wave before continuing to gesture for Jeonghan to return. Joohyun must have been put in a staring mood, because she didn’t miss how his friend’s big ears were a shade of pink and how they bloomed into a cherry red when they briefly made eye contact. She caught herself wondering if all the boys at Mansae University were always this cute.

“I guess I better go,” the boy named Jeonghan shrugged. Joohyun felt his fingers brush against hers when he took the frisbee from her hand, his eyes glinting mischievously. Now she was sure she was seeing things. “See you two around!”

They both watched him retreat in an awestruck silence. That was certainly… unanticipated. Even long after Jeonghan and his friend were out of sight, the brief encounter left a blanket of fogginess lingering over them. Had she not felt his fingers on hers, Joohyun would have easily believed that it had all been in her head. At the same time, she was pretty sure that she wasn’t bold enough to conjure up someone that looked like that on her own. As she continued to fathom how a human being could glow, Joohyun felt the fog dissipate into the warm summer air. She felt like she was waking up from a disorienting dream, and she blinked to hasten the process. To her growing bewilderment, she found that her heartbeat was steady as she came back to her senses, her mind seemingly devoid of the panic and doubt that had plagued her all week. It was a gasp of fresh air.

Jihoon, on the other hand, had long broken free from the strong impression that the blond boy made. He noted the dazed look on his best friend’s face and rolled his eyes. Who knew that a pretty boy was all it took to make her shut up a bit? He nudged Joohyun impatiently, so that she could pay attention to him while he roasted her for totally flubbing her chances. “You thinking of risking it all for that guy?”

In an instant, Joohyun slammed herself back into reality just to shove Jihoon away from her. “That is so not happening,” she said a little too indignantly. Before Jihoon could reassure her that the guy seemed interested enough even though she had only said a single syllable to him, Joohyun suddenly turned to him very seriously. “Do you really think I can do it, Jihoon?”

“What, bang that guy? I can try calling him back here if you want,” he snickered.

“You know what I mean!”

“Okay sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Jihoon replied, his grin now melting into a familiar smile, the one that could put her at ease on her lowest days. “I just don’t know why you have to ask. You and I both know that you kick ass at writing. You’ve written about stuff like natural disasters and the student protests, no problem at all. It’s not like you have a PhD in environmental science or politics. How is this any different? ”

Joohyun scrunched her face as if Jihoon had just suggested that chocolate milk came from brown cows. “Dude, they’re completely different. Those articles were reporting on facts. I did research, I conducted interviews!”

“That’s what I’m saying, Joo!” Jihoon exclaimed suddenly. As smart as she was, he couldn’t help getting a little giddy whenever he thought of a good idea before her. “Why not treat Miss Soju like any other of your other projects? I mean, love is probably one of the most well-documented experiences throughout history, and people are still going through all the same shit. There’s probably thousands of resources for a man simping on a hot chick alone. You can even take your pick, like movies, songs, books, weird couples on Youtube?You don’t need to have experience, because you can just do the research! ”

“Research?” Joohyun repeated. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was doing the work. From the moment she had decided to become a journalist, everything she had done was a strategic move to get her closer to her end goal. She had spent sleepless nights perfecting the details of her writing, countless hours reading through endless archives of old articles. Hell, she even restricted herself from dating for years just so she could focus on keep her grades up. It was almost too easy of a solution. Maybe she was meant to do this after all.

Another couple of months of research would simply be another hurdle on her way to the finish line and she was getting closer and closer. Finally, she felt a smile spread across her cheeks, a real, genuine smile. “I… I can do that.”

“Now that,” Jihoon said as he took her hand in his, pulling her up to her feet, “sounds like So Joohyun. Or should I say Miss Soju?”

She laughed as she dusted the grass off of her butt. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea to include the first part of my name in my anonymous persona. It makes it so obvious that it’s me.”

“Yeah, I mean it would be obvious if people actually knew who you were in the first place,” Jihoon scoffed, narrowly dodging a kick from her. “That’s a good thing for you! Anyway, let’s get out of here, I have a couple of tweaks to make to my song before releasing it tonight. Could you listen to it by the way? I need to know if it’s too cheesy.”

“Oh, the song you’re writing about your mystery muse?” Joohyun hummed playfully while packing up their blanket. She followed after her best friend as he began the short climb uphill. “I don’t know if I want to, you’ve been pretty out of pocket today.”

“Hey!” he said defensively. “First: I don’t need a muse for my songs, I just have a very vivid imagination and my talent does the rest. Second: I literally just stopped you from giving up on your lifelong dream of becoming a journalist, so I think you owe me one. You’re just jealous I can write love songs without having an existential crisis.”

“See, that is what I mean by out of pocket,” she paused for a beat. “I may be willing to listen to your song. For a small price, of course.”

“Okay, deal,” he agreed without hesitation, missing the way Joohyun deviously smirked beside him. They reached the concrete pavement at top of the hill and headed in the direction of his nearby apartment. “What is it this time, Ms. So?”

“Well Mr. Lee, thanks to your lovely suggestion earlier, I have been inspired to begin work immediately. So we shall be watching Twilight on movie night,” she said all too gleefully, mostly for satisfaction that Jihoon’s twisted face of disgust gave her.

“Do we have to?” he groaned.

“It’s for my research!”

#seventeen #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #pour.up #dj.woozi #mu.eros #soju.queen

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lideria · 4 years

Text

Chaos. | Johnny

➥ request: can I ask for a fluff fic wherein popular johnny and introvert y/n shares a love for photography and bonds over it

➥ pairing: johnny x gender-neutral reader

➥ genre: fluff literally only fluff, college!au bc i miss it

➥ warnings: none other than a few swear words i think? as always, there might be errors because english is my second language!

➥ word count: 3.3k

➥ summary: it’s awkward all around, but somehow you get a friend and a model out of an encounter.

➥ author’s note: this is so late and so bad, i’m sorry. i literally struggled with this so unnecessarily much and i don’t even know why exactly, because this is such an interesting concept. please excuse my bad writing in this and my lack of knowledge in photography, i have done some research but i know it probably isn’t enough. i hope the anon is still around and sees it! have a great time lovelies, and i hope you enjoy this little.. chaos heheh 💕 (i hate it here i do)

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

The room was scorching hot, and you were just trying to leave.

The club’s meeting had started around three hours ago for the last meeting before the big competition. One that was international and people had taken their sweet time getting ready for; a few months of preparation to potentially take the photograph that would grant them money, a lot of press, an opportunity to photograph the cover of a photography magazine and overall pride. Members had been taking about possibly restarting commission work and whether the club should do commission work as a society, free of the school, so that they could have a chance at getting better coverage from local blogs and newspapers, and requiring better payment for their work.

Nothing about the competition, really. Everyone was talented, and everyone was confident. They did not make a big deal out of it. Sure, they had been preparing for months on end as well and they had taken countless potential shots that would end up in the competition— but at this point they had long selected the one.

So when Johnny, the club president (who everyone on this campus that is home to thousands of students knows and has conversed with one way or another) stops you instead of them, the ones who could actually use words of encouragement and what not, it feels kind of weird. You stop before you can go out anyway, instead of pretending not to hear him. “Uh, sure. What about?”

Johnny makes eye contact with you when you turn around, and smiles apologetically before lifting a finger up signaling one second, and moves to close the door. He starts talking before he can come back to his place in front of you, where he had ben leaning against a desk. “I was looking over the last submissions for the competition and I couldn’t see your name,” And he is back, leaning against the desk again with his hands on either side, and a straight face. “You really won’t participate?”

Oh, so he had noticed. You thought nobody would, because you thought it probably would not matter if anyone decided not to take part in it. It would be a weird move to do so, yes, but considering free will and everything it was not undoable. “Ah, it’s just,” You shrug. “I don’t have a camera right now? It outlived its lifetime, and a couple months ago it thought it would be the right time to say farewell.”

He looks at you, crosses his arms on his chest, and furrows his eyebrows a little before lifting one up. “You could’ve just asked someone for a camera.”

“Yeah, except I couldn’t.” You chuckle, which prompts Johnny to look at you more questioningly than anything. So you explain yourself. “I didn’t want to be an inconvenience to anyone— plus, I don’t think most people would want to help a rival.”

“Well that’s just jumping to conclusions.” Despite how his words sound, he smiles. “You could borrow my camera if you’d like.”

“Johnny, there’s like a week before submissions start. I don’t even know if you have the equipments I need, or if the weather’s in my favor.” Upon your words he laughs slightly. “I know for a fact you’ve seen my astrophotography. You were looking at them last semester in the gallery,”

He then nods, just once, reassuringly. “Just look at the forecast. I wouldn’t mind.”

That had been the end point, really.

You went ahead and protested further saying you did not even know if what you wanted to appear on the photos were aligned and visible anytime soon, but Johnny had protested back saying you could just find something else to photograph; just take his camera and do something with it. When you asked him why he only told you that he liked your photography and somewhat and somehow related to it— which was a little mind boggling, considering you were not friends. Only acquaintances, and he could still compliment you and tell you something somewhat vulnerable looking into your eyes just like that and wholeheartedly, coming from his chest.

It got you thinking: maybe that was why everyone seemed to like him. He just meant things he said, and he did not really hold himself back from saying things.

He lets you use his computer to check the alignments and the forecast and the cloud formations for the upcoming days and surely enough, the day after the next the sky would be something you could work with. Not ideal, but better than nothing. “Where do you want to shoot the thing?” He asks over your shoulder, perhaps a bit too into your personal space than you are used to with an acquaintance, but it does not feel weird somehow. Probably because you know that he is not a creep that is peeping over your shoulder.

“You know the little beach at the lake?” He nods. “There.”

“Okay.” You close shut his laptop, and get ready to hand it to him, but he stops you midway. “Where do we meet?”

Wait. “We meet?”

That makes him chuckle. “Unless you want to shoot the sky in the dark all by yourself.”

In all honesty, that is what you usually do. Is it fun to do? Definitely not, because the quiet of the dark can get incredibly boring especially when you are not really seeing what you are shooting. The Milky Way was so hard to spot— it would take at least half an hour of your eyes adjusting to the dark before you could see any of it, and even then it would just be a mess of dark purple, blotchy gas with stars sprinkling over. Without any exposure and brightness it was not the most exciting thing, although it still held its magic to it.

The planets were, yes, definitely more visible than the Milky Way could ever be but again: they basically just bigger stars without proper effects. And considering the shoot usually went as setting the camera up somewhere, turning on all the necessary settings and toying with them until the view looked right enough, and leaving it for hours on end by itself and only getting up and taking stills a few times throughout the said hours; looking at and sitting under the night sky with naked eyes all alone proved to be very boring at times.

“Just give me your phone number.”

What you actually end up settling for is meeting at the lake because you realize you are living much farther from each other, at least compared to what you would have expected. You have to use different buses to be able to meet, and unless there were campers on his bus, he was also one of the only people that would take the bus to the lake at the dead of the night. Dead of the night being literally 2 AM in the morning.

When he arrives you are already there sitting on the sad excuse of what must be sand but is more of a weird mush, looking at your phone, checking the forecast last minute to make sure everything would be as what you expected throughout the night. The beach was fairly small and you were the only one there, except for the couple of abandoned beer bottles that had not been thrown away in the trash most likely out of laziness and lack of respect for the environment.

Johnny sets the camera bag down next to you before he drops down as well, setting his other bag next to him. “Hello there,” He greets you, and you mumble a greeting in return. “Getting here was so hard, why don’t you shoot at the hike trails? There’s a clearer view of the sky.”

“Mm, light pollution’s worse there. I can’t deal with that.” You still mumble and shake your head slightly, biting at your hangnail as you look at your phone. Johnny does not like that, the fact that you will not look at him and that biting a hangnail is often a nervous thing for a lot of people— it nerved him, made him think he is somehow unapproachable even though that is the last thing he would want to seem as. “Let’s set up the camera?” He suggests in hopes that it will get you moving or looking at him.

Which it does, because you lock your phone and look at him. It is a bit hard to see you in the dark, but he does not mind. “Thank you for letting me use your camera, Johnny.”

It is not what he expects. But he takes it as the reason of your seemingly nervous antic. “I forgot to thank you for it before, so.”

A smile plants itself on his face before he can even realize it. “It’s no problem. Now, come on.”

Johnny helps with setting the camera up, letting you fiddle with the lenses and the lights while he deals with the tripod and the height. He lets you walk around with the camera in your hands and waits for you to find a reasonable place where the sky can come out good and the environments can enhance the shot, and it happens to be a few feet away from where you were first sitting. He secures the tripod right then and there, and watches you deal with the settings for a good few minutes before he can catch somewhat of a smile.

Though, he knows that it will take a lot more than just a few minutes to find your ideal settings, and it does. You fiddle with the buttons and the settings, take a few test stills, go back and middle some more, bend your back and stretch since you are leaning down the whole time and it is hurting your hips a little, take a few more stills and… It takes a lot of time before you can actually start your time-lapse. Throughout all of it, he waits for you in silence.

And when you are done, he smiles at you. “All done?”

“Yeah,” The relief is both audible and visible as you breathe out. “There’s Saturn and Jupiter tonight, looks super nice. I just hope I can get good stills out of this.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to.” He clears his throat before continuing with his words. “I brought a few snacks, if you’d like some.”

You look out at the lake a little and frown at how it is wavering a bit, presumably because it would make it harder to take stills later. He hears you huff for a short second. “Sure.”

He does not necessarily like the way your voice sounds when you are supposed to be agreeing to his suggestion, but you walk around the camera and go sit down with him next to his bag anyway. Johnny takes the snacks out only hoping you would like what he has, and takes some napkins out, thinking you would need them if anything melts in your hand and everything gets a bit sticky.

An idea strikes him then, something he had learned from his friends way back in high school when he was in yet another photography club. After handing you the snacks and a napkin, he holds out the pack of napkins again. “Take another one.”

“What for?” He shrugs and pushes his hand further to emphasize. “Just take one.”

You do, and do not think much of it because you turn to your bag and take a thermos out, taking the cap off and filling it with the liquid inside. The grey trail of steam and scent makes its way to his nose; it is coffee.

Johnny just about becomes friends with you when you hold the cap out to him. “Thought we could use this to stay awake.”

“This is a saving grace,” He chuckles, and does not hesitate to take a sip. A dark and heavy brew, the way he loves it. “Thank you. Now, do me a favor and tear one of the napkins up.”

You chuckle a bit as you take your own sip, which results in you choking up a little. “What, why?”

But Johnny does not answer that question of yours. It prompts an awkward silence, both of you sipping your coffees once more. It proves to be unbearable, though, so you end up doing what he asks of you. Even though it sounds extremely weird.

When you are done with tearing the napkin up, there are dozens of unusable pieces in your hand and it feels somewhat dusty. “What am I supposed to do now?”

He looks at your hand for a brief moment, and lets out a laugh that sounds like a puff because of the way it is stuck between his lips. His shoulders shake, although not violently. “Well,” He starts. “You’re supposed to say a truth for every piece you have, it’s kind of a game.”

Your face must have morphed into such a shocked and taken aback mimic that Johnny actually bursts into laughter this time. “I’m not telling you this many truths, the hell?” Because, in all honesty, you do not think you ever told anyone that many truths in a game before. All of the truth-and-dares combined.

Johnny does not care about that a whole lot though, so he just shrugs. “Better start telling me. You can just stop when you get bored with it, I guess.”

With a huff, you start.

At first it is just you admitting doing sets of embarrassing things in your childhood and teenage years, how you wasted two semesters in the debate club dreading absolutely every competition and club meeting since you are more of an introvert, how you are most definitely going to fall a couple of classes but it is okay since you had taken extra credits last academic year, how although loving photography you do not want to do it for a living, how the coolest thing about it would be you starting a blog that thousand of people would follow— just for your astrophotography.

After that point it turns into a mutual conversation about photography. You tell him how astrophotography never fails to be amazing even though the things in the sky never change, and how every time you take a shot it will look just like the others but so much more different which is what pulls you into it when he asks you why you do it in the first place. Johnny also asks you if you should be doing a simple sky shoot for such a competition, and you answer saying you are not really aiming for first place already; you know for a fact that while looking at the submissions, people will stop scrolling the website just to look at your shot and that is what matters. Because they will find it so interesting, even though it will be just like any other night sky shot they have seen before, and it will be so interesting because it will be something far from what they can see with their naked eyes. They will try to memorize everything about that photo before moving onto the others.

And that is what matters to you. The fact that they will pay attention means much more to you than getting first place.

He, although jokingly, calls you a true artist. It somehow feels true to you.

Then, you proceed to compliment Johnny on his astrophotography, because some of his shots are in your all time favorites. There is a way in how he lets the light spill in his shots, how he links the city and the sky together that you respect so much, and you really wonder if it is all camerawork or also a tonne of editing. “It’s mostly camerawork,” He says with a smile on his face. “I can teach you someday if you want me to.”

You take up on his offer, of course, because you can grow with every bit of knowledge— plus he was fun to be around. The conversation just seemed to flow.

The conversation seemed to flow so fluently, in fact, that you almost did not realize that the lake water was about to drag the tripod away and tumble it down if it was not for the waves hitting your shoes after the wind picked up.

Both of you made a run for the set-up, but one of you were not all that lucky to be able to make it.

Johnny slips when he runs and falls backwards on the mushy, weird mix between dirt and sand, sending you into a hysteric laughter as you hold the camera. The laughter doubles you over probably because of your sleepiness (no, the silhouette as he fell in his clumsy moment was too funny to not howl over it), but you make it a point to ask in proper etiquette. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” He stands up, laughing just as much himself. “But I’m muddy all over.”

“Just go in the water.” At that he looks at you as if you are crazy, so you argue further. “You can either be wet, or muddy. It’s up to you.”

Johnny runs into the water and properly dips in this time, sending the two of you back into your fits of laughter.

Considering lake mud is the worst type you can get stuck on your clothes, you think he does the right thing. While he cleans up, you take some more stills— not caring too much when he walks into the frame at some point while making his way back to his bag.

Well. You actually take rapid photos of him at some point because you get a potentially great idea, but you would never admit to doing that. He would learn about it if it worked your way anyway.

You wait for him to squeeze his clothes so as much of the excess water is out as possible, and do him a favor and take the set-up down all by yourself, taking the memory card and putting it into your wallet as well. The footage is way shorter than how they usually are for you, but considering it is nearing five o’clock in the morning and Johnny would be freezing if he stayed more, you decide it is whatever. Any still would do the job according to your policy.

What really proves to be hard, though, is finding a taxi for Johnny. There are at least a few of them that pass by before you can convince one to take in your ‘drunk’ friend, telling them the address Johnny had told you for the second time after deciding on this little plan for him to be able to go home. Unlike him, taking the bus back is much easier for you especially after the sky ever so slightly starts lighting up, giving you the prettiest view to watch with your headphones blasting music, craving sleep.

Both of you do not really hear from each other until the next week, with you being too busy editing the still you had chosen trying to get it to be splendid, and him simply too busy with seminars and classes and the last bit of feedback he is giving on people’s submissions. You can only text some nights, but that is about it.

That is, until he calls you less than five minutes after you send him your submission. “Why this?”

You look at the laptop in front of you and the still you have just sent him— the silhouette of Johnny and his hair being flicked, sending droplets of water everywhere; because of his tall stature perfectly on and in between the stars, capturing the purple of the sky and the silver and red and green lights of the stars, and some of them just shine like how water does. Saturn and Jupiter are at the tip of his nose, and somehow his silhouette emphasizes them. Again, somehow in this weird state of him just walking away from the frame and the weird state of his arms and overall body, everything looks merged well together.

Chaos above in the sky, and chaos just down on the ground. “Well it’s pretty, isn’t it?”

#nct-writers #nct imagines #nct scenarios #johnny #will it post i am NOT hopeful anyway this sucks bye

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Note

Hello love, I’d love to request an escort lady!reader with Alfred modern AU with the prompts 24, 32 and 38, please? That’d be lovely! 💕

WARNINGS: Snotty Families, Escort! Reader, Slut-Shaming, Harsh Words, Unprotected Sex (WRAP IT UP, LOVELIES!), Slight Teasing, Dirty Talk.

Many people judged your choices.

But back then you hadn’t had many, finding yourself barely legal and with an enormous college loan to pay.

And nobody wanted to hire a college student, so you hadn’t found much except part time jobs that wouldn’t pay much and would surely reduce you in a stressed mess.

So, when you had heard of the ‘modelling agency’ a fellow roommate had been working at, you had wanted in, soon discovering that it wasn’t much more a cover for an escort company.

Nothing scandalous enough for Olivia Benson to be called, since you’d be paid simply to appear by the side of wealthy men and women, smiling gently by their arm, as they pretended that you were their latest conquest.

Most of them used you to cover up their true relationships or sexual preferences, and some others used you as a ‘revenge partner’ after they had broken up with ‘the love of their lives’.

It never went further than a simple image coverage, although many had offered you more, and sometimes you had been into it, because you had found them attractive and you felt like you had an itch to scratch-

In the end, it wasn’t anything improper, if you thought that you simply acted a role, as in movies.

Still you hadn’t told anybody of your job on the side.

It had been enough simply telling them that you’d sold a few pictures of yourself to a modelling agency, getting the immediate ‘do you have an Only Fan account?’.

And it had also fucked up your entire dating schedule, since many guys would consider your job cheating and none of them were honestly worthy quitting, mostly when you were so close to solving your student loan.

So, the small event you were supposed to attend on Saturday was the last job you’d ever take, glad to finally have lifted off the debt from your shoulder and more than glad to be able to drop this job for a bit.

It might have seemed all glamorous and cool, but it was emotionally and physically draining.

It wasn’t simply getting on with the clients and acting perfectly, but you’d have to make sure to check up with every client, what kind of services they wanted.

Hence that was what you were doing Thursday night, as you picked up your phone, calling your future client.

He hadn’t said much to the agency: he wanted the best one on the market, somebody who was discreet and definitely not tacky.

Somebody who could easily pass as his girlfriend at a family party.

The agency had suggested you, not because you were the ‘best-seller’ but instead of the other girls you had a relatively more low-profile, hence you were suggested in cases of faking a ‘more genuine relationship’.

You still called him in order to check what he truly wanted you to be on Saturday, as you reread the profile form he had left at the agency.

His name was Alfred and although he had taken the family business after his grandfather, he had said he still enjoyed music and played it regularly, although he didn’t publish it, which hinted you that he was a rather shy and meek soul.

It was confirmed by the soft voice that answered the phone.

“Hello?”.

“I am (Y/N)” you presented yourself, trying to be more direct than you could be, since many clients were pretty busy and preferred if you went through your work with your mouth closed “… the girl from the ag…”.

“Oh yeah yeah” his voice was so flushed that you could already see the color of his cheeks, as you pictured the photo you had been given, softly blushing.

He had a softness to his appearance that made him delightfully adorable, and you wondered whether he simply wasn’t interested in girls or all the girls in your generation were blind, for him not to have a ‘girlfriend’ yet.

“… is there anything wrong?” his tone questioned, and from the background rumors, you could hear that he was fidgeting with his hands and decided to put him out of his misery.

“No, don’t worry, Mr. York” you replied, but you were immediately interrupted by him.

“I’d prefer it if you called me simply Alfred” he mumbled, and then he proceeded to explain rushing through the words, as if he thought he had offended you “… I just… I think it’d be more fitting”.

“I am paid to follow every desire of yours, Alfie” you teased him, making your voice lightly sultry as you heard him take a sharp intake at your nickname “… but as I was saying… I am only contacting you to ask if you wanted to program better Saturday’s event”.

“What do you mean?” he asked, as he gulped down loudly, and you couldn’t help but imagine yourself lightly trailing kisses down his Adam’s apple.

“I mean… would you prefer to be casual acquaintances? Or would you prefer to set up a story to follow in order to seem properly engaged?”.

More easily, did he need you for coverage? Or did he need you to convince somebody?

“The second”.

You grinned at his tone, as you softly licked your lips, and were unable to stop yourself from thinking about how sweet he’d have tasted.

From the photo his lips definitely look deliciously soft.

But you had to stay professional.

“Then, Alfie…” you dragged out softly the nickname “… tell me all about yourself”.

You had been extremely surprised when Alfred had told you, he’d be picking you up, on Saturday morning.

It was against the rules, since you were supposed to avoid approaching your client in a closed space or alone, for your own security, but you had doublechecked Alfred York, and the worst sin he had committed so far, was that moustache he wore and the fact that he had cut his long hair.

Gosh, wouldn’t it have been a luxurious experience to pass your hand through them…

Again professionalism wasn’t something you could simply forget, mostly if you thought about how shy Alfred had sounded over the phone, although you had seen many videos and interviews of him, where his shyness completely regressed, making him a strong and powerful man.

You had been ready half an hour before the appropriate picking-up hour, because if there was something else that you had gathered from your phone calls and Alfred’s behavior, was that he certainly didn’t appreciate lateness or imprecision.

And you were known for making your clients happy and satisfied.

He had arrived also early, excusing himself with you for the nervousness and you had quickly met him in his car, because although Alfred didn’t seem a creep, you still wanted to avoid a client knowing where you lived, so you had given him appointment at a small private parking lot.

Not secluded enough, because as you lightly knocked on the expensive car, Alfred almost banged his head against the steering wheel for the surprise, making you giggle, as he immediately got out of the car, to open your own door, as he greeted you stiffly.

And there he took a quick look at you.

He certainly hadn’t expected an escort to look that good.

You could tell it by his face.

You had chosen a simple assemble, since Alfred had informed it’d be a family gathering mostly, informal, but yet ‘rich informal’.

Hence you had worn an oversized coat, with a vintage look to it, whose light color matched the dusty pink dress you had rented, solely for this event, matched with some glorious high heels that were already making you swaddle, but you had stuffed in your care bag a pair of more comfortable shoes.

You usually took a care pack wherever you went, with a change of clothes, comfortable shoes, and panties.

Because that day you weren’t wearing any, due to the tightness of the dress.

You enjoyed the look he regarded you with, a genuine fascination with you, before he lowered softly his eyes, a light blush on your cheeks.

“… glad you liked it Alfie” you mumbled softly, as you slipped inside his car, thanking him with a soft smile, deciding to spare the poor boy, who looked close to overheating.

“I am sorry, for… ahem… I just…” he stammered, evidently at unease.

And if you were good at one thing, it was making your clients feel at ease.

“Don’t worry” you calmly replied “Thank you for picking me up actually, I really appreciate it”.

It definitely seemed to ease Alfred, who finally raised his eyes to meet yours, and you couldn’t help but be fascinated by the light orbs that had the same shade of the clear sky of that day.

“... thank you for doing this” he said, as he gently offered you an hand, and you were surprised by it, but gently clutched his hand, more than happy to adjust yourself in the comfortable seat of the car.

Usually clients weren’t so respectful, treating you as nothing more than ‘a dress to show off’, so you were honestly surprised by his gentleness.

But welcomed it.

He seemed the pristine and proper boy, who got a lot of repressed issues, from what you had been able to gather.

So, if he wanted to act like a gentleman, you wouldn’t have gone against it.

“Anything for you, Alfie” you smiled, as you tried not to think about the fact that you were doing this mostly because you were paid.

Another thing not to do with a client was talking about money.

“I thought we could go through our ‘plan’ “ he asked softly, and you could see that he wasn’t solely shy, but also nervous and this time it was you who reached out for his hand, as he sat down beside you, and you were more than happy to feel again those blue eyes on you “… if you obviously…”.

“We have met a month ago, that is why we have been very private” you recited the part you were supposed to play, surprising Alfred and you smirked at him, gently gripping his hand to bring his attention to your words “… I work at a local newspaper and you were profoundly surprised by an article of mine, and I was profoundly charmed by your looks…”.

“We didn’t talk about this” he mumbled, as your other hand lightly went to his tie, adjusting it and you took in the elegant Tom Ford’s suit, bringing out his elegant image.

“Well… you are quite charming, Alfie” you teased him, as you lightly pulled on his tie, making him face you, as he raised his shy eyes “… and you have asked me to come to meet your family, to try the step further, because we are very much in love, and don’t think that we are rushing in anything”.

“That’s… Gosh… that’s amazing” he commented, sincerely and you couldn’t deny that his genuine charm made you hot and bothered.

“Well the agency didn’t promise you anything less than the best” you replied, winking lightly and this time you didn’t catch solely shyness in his eyes, but also uneasiness, and noted to avoid talking of your true profession.

“… your favorite color is red and you like sunflowers” he commented, after he had calmed himself and you couldn’t help but be surprised that he remembered, since usually clients, even the most respectful like him, didn’t seem interested into getting to know you “… and you are still studying but you have an internship at the newspaper”.

And yeah, then you were brought back to your work.

“Perfect” you mumbled softly, trying not to let your disappointment be heard.

“Are you ready, then?” you were grateful that he asked, and nodded softly, as you moved to use the belt, adjusting it around your body.

“As ready as I’ll ever be”.

You had had many rich clients, but you still weren’t used to the opulence of their homes.

Dresses and cars were something that could be rented, alongside pretty girls for their arms.

But homes… they were less difficult to fake or to rent, even more when Alfred moved through it completely at ease, parking the expensive car, beside a line of vintage cars you couldn’t help but appreciate.

Again he came to you to help you out, mindful of your high heels, as he gently got your bag for you, so that you could adjust yourself on your feet, as he tried not to look at you, but you soon brought him to gently do it, again pulling on his tie.

Getting him much closer than he was used to, because he became tomato red, all over his face and he tried to push himself away, but your grip tightened.

“Remember… we are madly in love” you uttered, releasing your grip, and he seemed to understand it, keeping his eyes on you and you were the one who was hit by the intensity of it, eventually faking to fasten a strap of your high heeled shoes.

As you got out of the car, finding yourself in a driveaway as big as a park, Alfred gently grabbed your hand, although he sent you a soft look to see whether he could or not.

You’d have to certainly compliment his mother on his impeccable manners.

Judith, his mother, was one of the main reasons why he had chosen to confront an agency, he had informed you over the phone a few days before.

She continued on trying to match him up with the daughters of her friends, but every time he’d try to have a relationship outside of her reign, she’d just ruin it.

‘And I don’t really want to date…’ he had added in the car, driving definitely easing him into being more talkative.

‘Can’t blame you for that’ you had huffed and he had sent you a small side-eye look, to try to get you to talk more, and you couldn’t help but feel at ease with the young boy ‘… my line of work doesn’t exactly allow me dating’.

And you expected him to go like ‘oh yeah, I wouldn’t allow my girl to basically prostitute herself’.

But he had simply replied:

‘… I do think that there is always a story behind everything’.

And you couldn’t help but agree more, happy to have found somebody who would have dug deeper than the surface.

But again, Alfie was your client.

No matter how charming he was.

As you arrived at the door, Alfred seemed to have tighten up and you gently brought him closer, hugging him loosely in what looked like a cute attempt to calm a nervous boyfriend, and it succeeded since as the maid opened, she smiled at you both.

“Mr. York, it’s a pleasure to have you here” she welcomed you both inside, asking for your coat and you did your best to smile and thank her, as Alfred lightly reached out for you, almost naturally to lead you in the sitting room, where the family was waiting for the brunch to start.

It was a small celebration for Alfred’s father’s birthday, since Aethelwulf wasn’t a man for much celebration, but it was a also way to get all the family around, since as of late it was rather difficult.

And you were more than happy to be lead gentlemanly by Alfred, who set an hand right on the small of your back, stopping before entering with a look that said ‘I can’t do this’.

“You’ll do amazing, sweetie” you mumbled softly, comforting him as you lead him closer, loosely bringing your arm around his neck and he kept your gaze, before you lightly gave his cheeks a kiss, swiftly moving away and opening the door for him.

There weren’t as many people as you had been expecting, but you had also arrived quite early.

Alfred definitely seemed reassured in only seeing his grandfather and a few more distant relatives beside him.

Still all their eyes were soon on you and you dashed out a charming smile and immediately an older man approached Alfred, coming forwards with open arms and a smile, as he shouted happily.

“Alfred! My favorite grandchild” he smiled, as he brought Alfred in a bone crushing hug, using it to spy you over his shoulder and sending you a soft look “… and you brought a lady friend”.

“She is my girlfriend, grandpa” he mumbled proudly, and for a moment you were surprised that he had managed to be an even better actor than you “… (Y/N), may I present you my grandfather Ecberth?”.

“It’s so so nice to meet you (Y/N)” offered you an hand Ecberth, as his eyes inched on you, taking in your appearance “… Alfred must be a truly lucky guy to have such a beautiful girl, by his side”.

“Ah it’s an honor, Mr. York” you replied softly, as you tried to appear the type of girl, he had taken you to be “… I am glad to finally meet you”.

“Oh, sweetheart” he sent a small look at Alfred “… you have no idea how glad I am to finally meet somebody who makes my grandchild heart beats faster! He is always alone, and I am always worried he isn’t taking proper care of himself”.

You blushed gently, as you feigned innocence and shyness.

It almost seemed as if you and Alfred had changed your roles.

“… we wanted to take it slow, we have been together for only a month but…” you shot an exaggerated happy smile at Alfred, who gently gripped your hand as if it was natural “… Gosh, we have just felt so well together”.

Alfred gently brought you closer, softly delivering a kiss to the crown of your head, and for somebody who had been that nervous before entering the household, he was doing amazing.

“Oh, and you look amazing together!” spoke Ecberth, as he shot a look at Alfred “… where did you two meet?”.

“She writes on a local newspaper for a college internship and I was simply so so interested by her article…” he explained, and you barged in to back him up, joking and giggling.

“… I do think that he was more interested by the picture beside it”.

“Can you blame me?” he retorted, and you almost sighed dreamily at his soft blushing look “… and then I found out she is an amazing writer and honestly so so smart”.

The look on his face spoke almost of a real infatuation.

Ecberth seemed honestly moved by your ‘genuine’ tale and congratulated multiple times his grandchild about ‘finding such a perfect match’.

“… grandfather, where are my parents and my brother?” Alfred shifted away the discourse, since an awkward silence had fallen down onto you.

“Oh, your parents had a little delay, and about Aethelred…” Ecberth’s eyes spoke of an annoyance that you were glad hadn’t been directed towards you “… won’t you give her a tour of the mansion, Alfred? Be a gentleman and show her around, while we wait! You certainly don’t want her to stick with all these mummies?”.

And you were more than happy to be dragged away, mostly when Alfred huffed out a long breath of relief as you were far away from his relatives.

“Gosh, that was…” he mumbled, as you lightly laughed at his confused face.

“… fun?” you completed, as you both erupted in laughter, the sound echoing in the huge rooms you had hidden yourself “… your grandfather seems pretty active for his age”.

“Believe me, he almost comes daily at the offices to know whether we are doing a good job or not”.

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, Alfred had certainly relaxed himself and you were glad for that because it’d make your job easier.

“… won’t you show me around, then?”.

And he did lead you through the wondrous room of the mansion as you discovered it was even bigger than it seemed.

But it definitely put Alfred at ease, as he shared soft stories with you, and you couldn’t help but picture him as a small and loving kid, running around those enormous rooms, as he imagined stories of knights and warriors.

As a dreamer yourself, you understood his stories.

“Gosh I must be so annoying…” he mumbled, as he lowered his head.

“No, no I don’t mind it” you urged him to continue as you sat down at the small table that was set up in what looked like the fourth sitting room you had passed, particularly curious about the chess pieces set up on it.

Alfred didn’t waste any time in joining you.

“Do you know how to play?” he asked, a small smile signaling he did.

“I took a small course during middle grade” you mumbled, as Alfred set up the pieces properly, brushing away a bit of dust, as you set up a phone timer for the time.

“Ecberth taught me how to play chess” he explained as let you open the dances “… he said it’d help with the business thing…”.

“And little me who thought it was simply moving pieces around” you joked, as you immersed in the game, exchanging information about the other, mostly Alfred talking since not only it was your job to listen, but you didn’t want to let out too much personal information.

Then arrived the fateful question.

You had been talking a bit about the fact that you weren’t lying when you had told Ecberth that you studied in college.

And although Alfred didn’t utter it, you understood from his face that he was asking what, an instructed and smart girl was doing as an escort.

“I took the job at the agency because I had to pay off a ton of student loans, since my parents couldn’t afford my college” you explained, expecting either misunderstanding or pity, but Alfred seemed almost… ashamed.

“I am sorry to hear that” he seemed speaking genuinely and you smiled tightly at him.

“I still managed”.

“… doesn’t it get…” ‘scandalous’ or ‘dirtying’ “…tiring?”.

You couldn’t hide the surprise, because to everyone who had asked you, your job was a fantasy something to transform in dirty and to be used as their own fantasy, but Alfred was genuine in his curiosity.

And you found yourself nodding.

“It is sometimes tiring to carry not solely your trouble, but also others’” you explained, as you dragged a pawn ready to be eaten by his tower, and you could see that he was quite ready to taste his victory “… to act happy when you aren’t, truly and to pretend you aren’t feeling anything”.

He seemed honestly hit by your talking, and raised genuinely his face to meet your eyes, in order to let the message through more easily.

“You don’t have to fake with me, ok?” it was the first time you had ever heard such beautiful words “… if you feel uncomfortable you just let me know, and we can go”.

You were honestly surprised, not knowing how to react at such a lovely gentleness, and were simply able to nod your head, before your usual sultry tone got you out of this mess.

“… you have made me feel nothing but welcome” you softly mumbled.

“I bet you say that to all the boys” he muttered, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“Just the pretty ones” you retorted, as you moved your queen to eat his king “Checkmate”.

He seemed shocked and you couldn’t help but giggle as he looked at you almost offended.

“Not used to losing?” you teased him, as you light pushed yourself closer to him, enough to feel his soft breath on your face as his eyes lightly dropped to your lips, wanting to do what you had solely dreamed about since you had first seen those plush lips.

“Not used to beautiful women”.

“Charmer”.

“Alfred!” came the voice of Ecberth calling you and ending your spare of wits “… come! Your parents are here!”.

And you were more than welcome to stop the idyllic moment.

Because if rule number one was ‘don’t talk of money in front of clients’, the second was ‘not to fall in love with them’, even more when you wanted nothing more than quit with that life.

As you walked back in the sitting room, you were joined on the threshold by a stern couple, and hadn’t Alfred told you they were his parents, you wouldn’t have certainly guessed it, even more when the woman turned to you with a stern and reprimanding look in her eyes, whereas the man was definitely calmer although his look was almost nostalgic.

“Here are the lovebirds” called out softly Ecberth and you were sent an even more burningly hateful look from you assumed would be Judith “… my beloved grandchild and a beautiful girl”.

You blushed graciously, trying to appear meek as Aethelwulf seemed shocked, whereas Judith looked like she couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

“… what?” she asked softly, as if she hadn’t heard right, and you pushed it further.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. York” you offered her your hand as you took a step forward.

She seemed confused and sent a pleading look at Alfred who had lightly lowered his face, as if to say ‘please don’t involve me’.

“It’s lovely to meet you” gained points Aethelwulf, immediately accepting your extended hand “… I am Aethelwulf, Alfred’s father”.

“I can see where he got his charm”.

Certainly not from the woman by his side who looked at you as if she could stab you with just the right intensity.

And you were thankful to Ecberth when he suggested you just moved to the brunch, since his stomach was grumbling, but Alfred pulled a halt, asking seriously concerned.

“What about Aethelred?” in fact his brother was missing, and his father was the sole one who looked seriously concerned.

Rule three: don’t get in the family troubles of your client.

“He isn’t coming, I think” mumbled a disgruntled Ecberth, eyeing his expensive watch “… it’s pretty late”.

Alfred didn’t look too convinced, but he wasn’t able to do much, as Ecberth moved in an enormous dining room, followed soon by Judith who kept her eyes trained on you, and you smiled sickly sweet at her, going as far as to lightly kiss Alfred’s cheeks, in front of her.

“… it’s strange…” Alfred whispered softly as you were close, after the small kiss “… Aethelred isn’t one to come late or … not come without a message to explain why”.

Alfred had told you that his relationship with his brother was strained, since he had been chosen as the leader of the family corporation, whereas Aethelred had remained stuck in an inferior (but still pretty successful position).

You couldn’t help but see a truly genuine worry on Alfred’s face, although you had to identify also a bit of guilt in his eyes.

It didn’t seem certainly easy to take on the place which had been destined for another.

“Some people just surprise us, sometimes” you tried to calm him, sitting beside him, as he helped you with the chair, before you softly joined your hands under the table, more to reassure him than as a show for his family.

Alfred didn’t look too convinced, but soon his worry was focused on a particular petty and noisy Judith, and whereas Aethelwulf had insisted you just used a less formal tone with them, Judith didn’t hesitate to make you feel at unease.

To the point where every phrase she muttered seemed a backhanded insult.

And you were almost grateful at the distraction that brought everyone to focus their attention away from you, when the maid rushed in.

Something honestly worried in her eyes and soon Ecberth got up to see what this mess was all about, but the maid was promptly joined by another presence: Aethelred.

And whereas Alfred had this soft and almost feminine charm to him, his brother had the typical trait of any white man, broad shoulders and arrogant look comprised.

He also didn’t seem properly… able to stand on his own, as he shifted on his feet as if to find his balance.

He was obviously drunk.

There wasn’t much to be said.

“Aethelred!” tried to attract his attention Ecberth since his gaze was shifting anywhere except a precise point “… you are here!”.

“And you started without me” commented the drunken man, shooting all of you a skeptic look “… what a nice family I was born into”.

“Son…” tried to attract his attention Aethelwulf, who had also gotten up from his chair “… we were sure that you wouldn’t have come, you were….”.

“I mean… of course you didn’t wait for me…” he mumbled as he came forward, having some insecurities on the stairs, with his feet as he tried to remember which one went first “… your precious golden son is already here”.

He had spat out the words with so much poison that although you weren’t the person they were sent to, you couldn’t help but be annoyed almost hurt, as Alfred also got up, feeling himself called in the situation.

“You are drunk, brother” Alfred muttered, his tone filled with more surprise than judgement “… you shouldn’t be here…”.

“And you should lead the offices?” he retorted back “Why?”.

“It isn’t the right time to talk about this…” tried to usher him Judith, who hadn’t lowered her judgy iron gaze from her older son.

“Shut up, mother, we all know that if it was about you, you would have gladly thrown me out of the family business”.

A heavy silence fell onto the table as Aethelred inched closer as he took in every reaction to his awful speech, and stopped as he saw your face…

… and most importantly your hands linked with Alfred.

And he erupted in laughter.

“Little Alfie brought a girl over!” he exclaimed, before his tone turned to be dark and grimy “… how much did you pay her brother?”.

Alfred honestly faked perfectly the offended expression that flashed on his face.

“Don’t speak to her like that” he hissed through gritted teeth and you couldn’t help but be amazed by how much strength he was putting in making his brother back off of you.

But he certainly wasn’t doing it because he wanted to protect your ‘honor’ (or what remained of it).

“… little brother we all know that you couldn’t pick a hottie like her in a thousand year. You might be mommy’s favorite, but with girls…”.

“I don’t think that you should talk to your brother like that” you muttered, honestly a bit irritated by Aethelred’s speech.

And to show Alfred that you could hold your own battles.

But Aethelred hadn’t had enough.

And he turned his attention to you, licking his lips as he ranked his eyes over your body, before he grabbed a glass of wine and drank a bit gulp from it, some of it dribbling away from his mouth, as he moved to speak to you.

“How much do you want to ditch my brother and get on my own cock? I can promise it’d be a better experience”.

Alfred looked to shocked to reply and before you could add anything, Ecberth thundered.

“You drunkard! Don’t even try to continue that speech!”.

“I am not for sale” you added, as you turned softly to Alfred.

But Aethelred hadn’t had enough, and under the watchful eyes of everyone in the room, he threw the rest of the glass wine at you, effectively staining your expensive rental dress, and a bit of your exposed cleavage.

You honestly had gone through pretty everything thank to your job, and being thought as a prostitute certainly wasn’t the worse, but you couldn’t help but be extremely disappointed by Aethelred’s act, who seemed to have suddenly sobered up, as Alfred sent him the meanest look that had ever graced that angelic face.

“… sweetheart” he spoke softly to you, as a rageful tone, promised to rain down on Aethelred “… go to the bathroom, I’ll join you in a few minutes”.

You honestly wanted to stay, because you weren’t no frail damsel in need to be rescued and you thought that to see Aethelred being ripped up to shreds by his brother would have been an interesting experience.

But not only the wine was starting to stick on your expensive rental dress, but also on your skin becoming quite annoying.

And Alfred’s voice didn’t ask for any protest.

You wouldn’t have thought that the shy boy would have held such a domineering tone.

It made you lightly aroused, and you were more than happy to hide yourself in the bathroom, although you stepped behind the huge doors to the dining room to overhear the spar that would be going on.

“… Alfred” tried to catch his attention his mother, but he had had enough.

“Maybe you should think that this is the reason why I don’t bring girls here!” he shouted, honestly exasperated.

“Alfred” tried to call him his brother.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God” screamed loudly Alfred, pointing a finger at him “I honestly don’t give a single flying fuck about the fact that you are drunk! You just fucking called a nice girl a whore! And you don’t even know her…”.

But that wasn’t enough.

Judith moved to calm down her child, but Alfred honestly sent her a look identical to the one she had been sending you the entire day.

“… and please don’t try to act all innocent, as you basically made her feel all uncomfortable with your awful questions” Judith fell in her chair, as Aethelwulf immediately came to check on her pulse and Alfred didn’t deign her of a look, as he moved to exit the table, passing Ecberth and excusing for the situation “… I’ll see how she is feeling and then bring her home”.

And as soon as he move to the door, you rushed in the first bathroom you found, lightly trying to brush away the stains, unable to even fathom how much you’d have to pay to get it replaced.

“… I am sorry you had to witness all of it” Alfred’s voice startled you as he walked in, taking in the shameful mess that your dress was “I’ll buy you a new one”.

“You don’t have to” you mumbled softly “… and believe me… I have seen worse”.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better” he crouched closer and also grabbed a towel as he softly sent you a light look to ask if he could help you and you nodded, surprised of this soft! Alfred after everything that you had witnessed.

And you didn’t know which version you liked more.

“I don’t lie and I never fake” you joked softly, as you light dipped your neck to the side to let him clean it, as you dabbed your chest, seeing Alfred becoming all red as he accidentally took a look at it “… and don’t worry, you can look”.

“I don’t….” he honestly looked close to choking on his own saliva and you were honestly missing the self-assured Alfred you had met in the dining room “… I wouldn’t want to offend you”.

“You wouldn’t” you promised him, as you decided to give the boy a little treat for the way he was acting so adorably.

And for having defended your honor.

You lightly opened your legs, as you lured him inside them when he came closer to dab at your chest over the fabric and you brought him closer and you softly linked your arms around his neck.

“You don’t have to fake anymore” he stuttered lightly on the last part, and you smiled viciously at him.

“I said I don’t fake anything” you mumbled gently, as you grabbed one of his hands, making him drop the wet towel and pushed it onto your upper leg, to make him feel the smooth skin there “… this isn’t on the contract”.

“I am not…” he seemed honestly on the verge of passing out and you did a step further.

“When was the last time you kissed a girl, Alfie?” you asked him, as you brought your lips closer to ears “… when was the last time you wanted something?”.

He tried to avoid looking at you, but you knew from some other ‘evident’ proof that he wanted you, and it surprised him as you wrapped your legs around him, lightly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants, as he tried to hold onto your legs, making you giggle lightly when you both lost your balance and fell onto the ground.

And Alfie joined your laugh.

“I thought you were a professional” he shot you a light look, but you didn’t let him shift the attention away from you.

“Oh, I am” you promised him, before you shushed any protest, pressing your lips against his.

And this time you were the one who was surprised as Alfie reciprocated the kiss hungrily, and you had your answer for your first question.

He hadn’t kissed somebody in a long time.

But he certainly hadn’t lost the technique, as his hands traced softly your cheeks in a soft grip, meanwhile he moved gently his lips against yours, at first your upper, lightly tickling it with his tongue, and then the lower one, biting onto it, making you yelp out.

And slowly one of his hands had threaded in your updo, lightly pulling on the elastic in it, letting your hair fall down your shoulders.

And before you knew it, he pushed one hand in the mess of tresses falling down your face as he brought you closer.

And joined your lips in another kiss.

And his hand on your thigh slipped further.

Apparently, he was either a natural learner or he was lying to you.

You didn’t know which would have sounded more outrageous for the perfect prince charming Alfred had presented himself to be.

As Alfred broke the kiss, you found him looking at you with wide eyes.

He had made a rather scandalous discovery.

“You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?”.

“The dress was just too tight” you spoke softly, as you lured him closer to you “… do I scandalize you, Alfie?”.

And a dark look was shot at you, as you realized that you had definitely awakened something inside of him.

And it wasn’t in the slightest something a prince charming owned.

He quickly pushed your hair as he lightly made you move on his lap, as he hiked your dress past your hips, to expose you to his hungry gaze.

He made little effort to get himself out of his expensive dress, discarding the jacket, since it was stopping him from moving freely.

And then he lightly unzipped his boxers, as you tried to catch a small look at his member, but weren’t able to catch nothing more than a simple glimpse, because he gripped again your hair, effectively bringing you to smash messily your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss, as he teased the tip of his fingers against your slit.

Teasingly mapping you out, as his lips tried to gain your attention.

But your mind couldn’t focus properly, on anything.

“… does a professional do this?” teased you Alfred, as he slipped the tip of his fingers inside your wet warmth, testing your wetness “… will you charge me more for this?”.

You couldn’t help but surprised by the Alfred’s transformation and didn’t dare to question it.

“It depends, if you can last pretty boy” you smiled and he smirked back dangerously at you, and before you knew it, he was brushing his blunt tip against your entrance, in a slight ask for consent which you granted lightly battling your fluttery eye-lashes.

And you hadn’t been wrong about the fact that he was quite impressive.

He still let you adjust to its length, as he also moved you closer, meanwhile his legs went to give support to your back, as his hands moved from your hair down, trailing softly till your back, where he sank them down as you teasingly gripped him tighter, signaling him to start moving.

And he didn’t need to be told anymore, starting a languid pace as he pushed inside you, making you feel every inch of him, as he retreated almost completely, slamming with a brutal trust and exiting you damnably slowly.

Leaving you in a state of ecstasy that made you almost brace Paradise, but…

He pushed you to look at him in the eyes, lightly moving your back more upright as he made you face him and those beautiful blue eyes lightly were darkened by lust, but nothing else in him would have signaled the sinful act you were doing.

And Gosh… those perfectly blushing cheeks, reddish enough to make you want to bite at them as ripple apples.

And his lips had swollen due to the constant kisses, making them plumper.

Gosh you wished you owned such lips!

He kept on teasing you, till it got too much also for him and he started fucking you in the earnest, completely changing your positions, as he pushed you down on the cold marble of the bathroom, overcoming you as he came on top of you.

A pleasurable oppression.

And it managed to hit you even deeper, as he lost himself in you.

But it wasn’t enough.

And you tightly grabbed his angelic face, making sure, this time, he was the one who looked at you, as you spoke slowly.

“Aren’t you downright scandalous, Mr. York?” he stilled his hips, sheathing himself deeply against you “… you look like a fucking angel, all good preaches and sweet smiles, but you fuck like a downright sinful devil”.

This seemed enough for him to understand what you wanted.

He pushed himself in with much more strength, no teasing anymore.

“I bet this this is why you don’t keep girls around…” you whispered in his ear as he moved to make your chest meet, between you, closer than it was possible “… they are all little girls that don’t know how to make you feel. You need a woman to make it feel better, don’t you”.

Your teasing seemed to work, because he basically pounded you against the floor, and you were sure you’d have bruises on your lower back.

But you weren’t feeling a single ounce of pain, as you reached your edge, gently helped by a finger of his, that had found again your pearl, attaching to it roughly, as he pushed you into coming.

He lasted a few more thrust after you, but you were solely able to focus on your pleasure, as you arched against the cold floor, meeting his boiling chest.

Both spent, you separated.

The combination of the stickiness of the wine still on your body and your own sweat didn’t make for a pleasurable sensation and you were more than happy when Alfred passed you the wet towel, which it hadn’t fallen down far away from where you had finished your coupling.

“… I came into you” the memory of it, shook Alfred to the core, as he moved to turn to you, catching the glimpse of his seed falling between your legs as some kind of satisfaction filled him, but worry didn’t leave his face.

“I am on the pill” you mumbled “… since I was sixteen, helped with my period and certainly makes this funnier. And don’t worry I am clean”.

The last part of your affirmation didn’t seem to worry him in the slightest.

And as much as you didn’t mind the messy situation down there, actually enjoyed it as you brushed the wet towel over your oversensitive puffy lips, you were struck with another rule broken for Alfie: don’t leave any trace of you.

But it was worth it.

That animalistic and downright outrageous part of him made him definitely one of the best hook-ups you had ever had.

The best, definitely.

But you wouldn’t have told him, or it’d got to his head.

Mostly with the way, after his worries were eased, he told you ‘he had indeed lasted’.

“Yes yes, I can feel that” you reprimanded him.

And you were broken apart from the idyllic memory (and the opportunity for another round) when Judith’s voice called out your names and moved the door as if to enter.

“Mom, stay away!” screeched nervously Alfred, as he shielded you with his jacket, and his mother strangely followed his order, immediately closing the door “… we’ll clean up and maybe join you”.

You shot him a slight look as if to say ‘what do you mean with maybe’.

And he answered it as soon as Judith left, simply mumbling ‘of course’.

“We could ditch this boring party and go to my house” he mumbled, and although he tried to shift his face away from you, you caught the redness of his cheeks.

Do find yourself a man that will fuck you like that and then blush at the sole mention of doing it again.

“Behave” you muttered, as you pushed your dress back to cover yourself “… get me my change of dress in the car, and then you can have fun ripping it off me, once we get home”.

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