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Falling For You (Robert Fischer x OC)

Summary: A city girl’s life as a waitress can’t improve, can it? Wrong! As fate would have it, one woman catches the eye of Robert Fischer and he offers her a job as his escort. Why choose someone from low society for such an elegant position? Will this employment stay platonic… or will their feelings for each other start to bleed through? Warnings: Inappropriate language (nothing too extreme), hinting at intimacy

“Leave me alone!” I shove the man’s hand off my shoulder and attempt to escape into the city crowds.

Talk about a rainy day. Literally. Not only am I being pursued by a sketchy customer but it’s also raining buckets. Somehow I knew today was going to be a downer. The train broke down so I had to walk to work, nobody felt like tipping, and my boss wants me to do overtime over the holiday weekend. One day at a time, living the full city life as a waitress. And now one customer is getting too attached for my taste.

“We’re not through-!” He grabs my arm again and I kick him in the shin.

“Yes we are! I’m not interested!”

His eyes go feral and before I know it he swipes his foot under my feet and I’m falling backwards to the wet pavement. “You bitch!”

“Ah!” My head’s going to split-! “Oh my God!”

A pair of new hands grab my arms just before I hit the ground. I’m not dead.

“Are you alright?” a gentle but serious voice asks from above.

I look up to see my savior: a lanky man in a business suit with a spiffy tie and suspenders underneath a navy blazer. Not everyone can wear suspenders but he pulls them off well. Is my heartbeat speeding up because of the fall or because of the man’s incredibly handsome face? A familiar face, like a celebrity. Clear blue eyes, cute haircut, sharply-sculpted cheekbones, and soft lips. A rich man, no doubt.

“Hey, money bags. Leave the bitch to me and scram!”

Oh. I forgot the jerk was still here. The rich man, still holding me, doesn’t seem to care. He helps me stand up and takes his time to respond after giving the jerk a look-over. He’s not impressed.

“You will never bother this woman again, or you will regret it.”

His words are steady but hold a threat with new meaning. Both the bully and I know what he’s talking about. This man has half the city in his pocket and could make any death an accident. Thank God! The brute gets the hint and sprints off, leaving me flustered to still be clinging to the rich man’s suit.

“What’s your name?” Even his voice is attractive.

Before I answer I pull away and wipe off what water I can to make myself presentable- although it’s hard to in a rainstorm.

“Margaret Chillinger.”

“Here, let’s get out of this,” the man says and leads me to a nearby restaurant. When we get inside he offers me a seat at a corner table and we both sit. People are already staring and I know what they’re thinking. Why would someone like him be in this low-rate place with someone like me?

The man ignores the stares. “Do you know me?”

Once the rainwater is wiped off (no doubt my makeup is smudged now) I nod my head. “I know who you are. Anyone who reads the papers knows who Robert Fischer is. I’m so sorry to hear about your father.”

Earlier this week I saw a headline claiming that Maurice Fischer, head of Fischer Morrow, one of the biggest energy companies of the world, had passed away. What are the chances I come across his son Robert Fischer? But I don’t feel as odd because Fischer is acting odd as well. Did he whisper ‘not dreaming?’ Why is he even in this part of town anyway?

“Looks to me like you’re in need of a job. A better job,” Fischer observes. “How about considering working for me? Not as a secretary. One that’s more… sociable.”

A new job? Me? Working for a multi-millionaire? A handsome multi-millionaire? What’s the catch?

“Are you saying you are in need of an escort, Mr. Fischer?”

“I need a smart and attractive woman who’s not ditzy enough to trip on her heels.” Fischer never looks away, still with the same no-kidding expression. “Someone the press can admire.”

A showgirl. That’s what he needs. “You obviously come from money. I imagine you already have a large arsenal of pretty girls to parade around with.”

Fischer chuckles. “Looks can be deceiving. What if I told you that I’ve never officially had a hired escort? Only a few temporary employees.” His expression changes. “Will there be any jealous boyfriends I should be aware of?”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Looks can be deceiving. Bold of you to assume I have one. You saw how my last encounter went and he wasn’t even my boyfriend.” I arch a brow. “You rich guys usually don’t come here to associate with lower society. Why choose me?”

“Because I take you as a woman who’s bold enough to not be afraid of authority.”

So he needs a girl with guts. “I don’t fear authority, I respect it. Also I kinda owe you for saving my head from becoming a split melon. You need my street smarts, Mr. Fischer.”

The man’s smile brightens at my diagnosis and he pats my shoulder. “You’ll do just fine. How does ten grand sound as a starting wage?”

Ten grand? This is one Hell of an interview. There has to be a catch. “How deep would the… physical details of the job venture?” I ask slowly.

Fischer is quick to explain. “Basic hand-holding, conjoined arms, the occasional kiss on the cheek. Nothing more.”

Wow. This is not what I expected. How is a man this rich so- so… kind? “Could you maybe-?”

“I will put it in writing,” Mr. Fischer finishes for me. “And I always abide by my contracts, Ms. Chillinger.”

I’ve never had a contract before. Ten grand… Ah, Heck. Why not? It’s better than my crummy waitress job. I can pretend to be an escort. Especially to such a generous employer.

“Ok. So when do I start?”

“You started 20 minutes ago. And you’re doing a brilliant job.” Mr. Fischer notices my confusion. “See those men there?” I look to where he’s pointing and spot two men wearing sportcoats, each occasionally looking over at us. If they’re trying to be discreet they’re doing a terrible job of it. “They’re reporters. They’ve been taking pictures throughout our whole conversation.”

That’s how popular this man is. This is how public my job is going to be? I need to alert my family so they don’t die of embarrassment.

Mr. Fischer scribbles something on a business card and slides it across the table. “Here’s my personal number, just so when I call you will know I’m not a stranger.”

“But you don’t have my number.”

He simply tilts his head in consideration. “I have my ways. I’ll send over some supplies for your job.” Supplies? “Your first session starts tonight. I’m flying out to Los Angeles and need you to come with me. You’ll be given a private hotel room.”

Los Angeles? Just how much does-? But before I ask Mr. Fischer gets up from the table and gives a proper goodbye before heading back into the rainy streets. Well done, Margret. You’ve moved up from being a waitress at a greasy spoon to being an escort for a millionaire. A very handsome millionaire. How is a city girl supposed to pull this off?

Well. The question of pulling it off is answered. Outside my apartment door are bags and boxes of unknown department store goods. What’s Fischer done now? I quickly push the pile into my apartment before the neighbors can get suspicious. What is- Oh.

The packages contain every woman’s dream. Gorgeous dresses, elegant evening gowns, classy heels, designer bags, expensive makeup brands. This is the supplies Mr. Fischer was talking about. Something to clean up my image. Clean up his image.

It’s not for you, Margret. He could have picked any woman to dress nicely. Remember that everyone is driven by fear, survival, worry, and anxiety. If Robert’s going to survive the corporate world he needs a woman by his side to show off. The rich man’s world is crazy.

I shower and scrub my skin raw to get rid of the dirt and grime covering me after today’s shift. It doesn’t take as long as I thought to get dressed. I have no idea what event Mr. Fischer is flying to so I choose a simple but classy black dress paired with gold heels. I look the part, now it’s time to test it. Downstairs I find a very sleek limo waiting out front.

“Are you Ms. Chillinger?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, that’s me. Did Mr. Fischer send you?”

“Yes. He instructed me to drive you to the airport. Do you need help with your bag?” I politely shake my head and climb inside, making him look surprised. “That’s the first time a girl hasn’t asked for special treatment. I’m Daniel, by the way.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Daniel. Do you know why I’m here?”

“I have a good idea. My advice? If you want to look legit then you need to pour everything you have into looking confident and rich. Very rich. The cameras love a rich smile.”

Even Fischer's chauffeur is nice! Maybe this job won’t be so bad after all.

“Thanks, Daniel. Now let’s not keep Mr. Fischer waiting.”

“Good evening, Mr. Fischer. Ready to fly?”

Even my voice is different. I take Daniel’s advice and attempt to hide my laid-back city accent with a posh tone. It seems to please Mr. Fischer, who’s wearing a different suit that’s a sharp black with a navy blue tie.

His pleased smile is good praise. “I thought that dress would look nice. Do you like it?”

“It cost more than all of my belongings. You have good taste, Mr. Fischer.” I look across the runway and see a giant white jet approaching. “Private jet? Fancy.”

Fischer shrugs. “This is what a business empire gets you. Now follow closely.”

Right. Time to go to work. I grab my simple carry-on bag and Fischer offers an arm for me to take. I must say it’s not as uncomfortable as I thought. He’s gentle but still tense, something expected from a stressed businessman. He leads me to the plane and immediately the stewardess rushes out to greet us- Or him, specifically.

“Hello, Robbie! Looking handsome as ever-! Oh.” She notices my arm linked with his and her smile stiffens. “Who’s this?”

“Tiffany, meet Margaret. She’s my newest employee,” Fischer answers smoothly.

Aw, that’s sweet. He introduces me as an employee instead of the specific title. Though Tiffany seems to catch on to what I really am because her gaze tells anything but friendly terms.

“Oh. Robbie, what’ll it be? Whiskey or Scotch?”

Tiffany desperately tries to lure him away but to no avail. Mr. Fischer holds his place next to me and we both start climbing the stairs to the jet. His business behavior precedes him. Does he ever break from it?

“Feel free to sit anywhere,” Robert says and takes his own seat next to the window. “Have you flown before?”

“No. But I’m not afraid of it.”

“Before we begin, here is the contract you requested.”

Fischer pulls out a small stack of papers and slides them onto the tray table. How did he draft that so quickly? It looks… surprisingly thorough. ‘I, Robert Fischer, pledge to abstain from physical and mental harassment in favor of one Margaret Chillinger. This includes unconsented kissing, groping, and sexual intercourse.’ There’s also a bulleted list of more restrictions. He’s thought this out well. And my half looks just as laid-out. ‘I, Margaret Chillinger, pledge to carry out the position of a lady escort to one Robert Fischer. This includes appropriate presentation, etiquette, and attire, attending required social events, and consenting to public press.’ Impressive.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Fischer,” I reply and sign my name on the dotted line. “Pleasure to be in business. Would you like to discuss the details of tonight’s event?”

“Robert!” Tiffany’s back. And she’s holding a tray with a hot towel. “I’ve prepped your flight necessities! Oh.” She makes a dramatic performance to see me sitting across from him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Robert would have a plus one. So there’s only one towel.”

I wave it off to show no offense. “I can handle not having a towel. Thanks anyway.”

Tiffany’s eyes flash and she retreats back to the employee lounge.

“She’s pretty,” I nod to where the stewardess just stood. “Why not use her instead of me?”

“Because she’s a scatter-brained harlot.”

My eyes nearly pop out at his blunt language. Fischer just laughs and continues.

“The only reason she works here is because her mother is the head chairwoman of the airport. Just watch.”

We wait a few minutes and sure enough the stewardess walks by again. This time she’s carrying a tray with a bottle of blue liquid and a single glass. Zero hospitality skills. Even if I hate a customer I always give them my best service. But that job is behind me now.

“Tiffany, what drink is that?” Fischer points to the bottle.

The smiling woman holds it up. “A type of liquor, I think. It was in the cabinet next to the winerack.”

“Tiffany, that’s windex.”

It’s-? Oh my God! I have to look away to keep from laughing at the big mistake. Robert’s right! How on Earth is this lady qualified to work here?

The poor girl tightly grips the tray and stiffly walks to the back.

“See? Completely hopeless,” Robert stifles a laugh. “Now about the event…”

The rest of the flight goes uninterrupted by Tiffany. Robert explains that the event we will be attending is a charity gala held for large companies. It’s a good thing I chose this gown instead of a sundress. He tells me that I’ll be free to wander as long as I don’t leave the building. That, and I’m not allowed to associate too closely with other men.

“That’s no problem for me. Your society is far from my own.”

“Yet you still agreed to work for me,” Robert points out.

“Not every rich guy is a s nice as you, Mr. Fischer. By the way, thanks for treating my job professionally.”

“You’ll do your job well, Ms. Chillinger.”

The jet lands and another luxury car is waiting outside. I could get used to L.A. The evening weather is gorgeous! As we’re driven through the bright streets I can’t stop staring at the many marvels all around us. And it gets better! The building we stop at is, quite frankly, a fortress. Far more wide than tall to accommodate the earthquake regulations, yet still breathtaking.

“Impressed?” Mr. Fischer asks from behind.

All I can do is nod. It’s not until he offers his arm again that I snap back to reality. Get it together, Margaret. Do your job.

“Mr. Fischer! Over here!”

Oh boy. The press. Just like Robert said. And they look hungry for good newsfeed.

“Follow my lead,” Mr. Fischer whispers. “Just smile. That’s all there is to it.”

He starts walking and we do quick work to strut by the photographers, each offering smiles for whatever articles they’re writing. God, I hope it’s not too humiliating. Fischer hires new mistress? Rags to riches? Street trash becomes gorgeous gold digger? As far as I know nobody knows who I am. The public must assume I’m just any ordinary escort.

Inside the building are dozens and dozens of more rich men. Most of them are over 50 but there are a few like Robert who are still young. Aside from looking rich the only thing that most have in common is their escorts. All around me I see women being paraded around like a dog show. Once again I give a silent prayer to Robert for buying me a dress that is classy and appropriate. Some of these girls’ dresses wouldn’t even apply as shirts in my book.

“You look stunning tonight, Mr. Fischer!” A fellow escort compliments.

Now her employer joins the conversation, a shorter man with thinning hair. “And this young lady of yours is gorgeous! Where’d you find her?”

“Actually she found me,” Fischer replies with a smirk. “Margaret is a remarkable person to have around.”

The man lets out a gut laugh and winks. “Not just for social calls, I hope.”

“You have no idea.”

A sick feeling tugs at my stomach and I suddenly want to inch away. You knew this was coming, Margaret. These are business sharks. Not saints.

“Why don’t you go stretch your legs?” Robert’s voice offers an escape. “I’ll meet up with you later.”

Thank you, Mr. Fischer! I make sure to give him a grateful smile and then hightail it to the back. Maybe I can hide here-

“Well hello there,” a new voice lurks in the corner. A tall man in a cream Italian suit struts over with a devilish look in his eyes. “And who might you be?”

Stay strong. “I am Mr. Fischer’s escort. May I take a message?”

He grimaces at the mention of Robert. “Ah, Fischer. You know you could do so much better than him. What does he pay?” He creeps closer and I feel myself getting cornered to the wall. “I can make it worth your while.”

“I’m afraid that is out of the question,” I say firmly and slink past him. “If you have a problem with Mr. Fischer then I’d be happy to arrange an appointment.”

This is where the ten grand comes from. I wouldn’t be surprised if some women charge higher. I sneak around a corner and find a balcony. Good. I can use some fresh air. Outside the familiar noise of the city brings comfort to me.

“There you are,” Mr. Fischer greets and joins me on the balcony. “Doing alright? I saw Nicklson corner you earlier.”

“I will never understand how you can willingly associate with them, Mr. Fischer. They’re scheming, perverted monsters. I’ve met bums in the city who have more morals than them.”

He walks up next to me and puts his hand over mine. It’s not a gesture of business. It’s more comforting, more personal.

“You’ve done brilliantly, Ms. Chillinger.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Au contraire. Ever since we walked in, every guy here has been looking at you. I just closed a very profitable deal that was once impossible all because of you. Some men here are attracted to intelligence, and you’ve delivered most pleasantly. So, ready to call it a night?”

I… I did it. My first night as an escort and I nailed it! I just need to get over this sick feeling.

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” my city slang slips through but Robert doesn’t seem to mind.

When I first told my old boss I was quitting he thought I was joking. After handing in my official resignation, signed by Mr. Fischer himself, he nearly passed out. A few days later my first payment got transferred to my account. Turns out I can stretch ten grand very thinly. That and once every few days Robert will have me run a few errands for some extra cash. Picking up dry cleaning, scheduling doctor appointments, mailing packages.

Four months go by. The pattern I’ve grown used to is simple. Every Friday I need to wear either a sundress or cocktail dress to a company meeting. Every Wednesday is an evening gown for publicity outings. Sometimes Robert lets me pick the place for dinner, other times he surprises me. Before each meeting I practice smiling in the mirror. After a few weeks of escorting I began seeing myself in the papers, even on TV. No surprise there are a few negative reports, with some saying I’m only seeing Mr. Fischer for his money. But for those who have gotten close enough they report differently. ‘Margaret is a delightful person to chat with.’ ‘Sometimes I even forget she’s an escort, she’s so funny!’ ‘Margaret can carry a conversation with a drunk Scotsman.’

The news eats me up with no problem. My family, on the other hand, sees things differently. My father was very proud to see me move up in the workforce. My mother was appalled to see me being towed around by Mr. Fischer on TV. My brother saw the upside with the paycheck but offered to cut off Fischer’s hands if he ever violated our contract.

The contract that Robert has never tested even once. Only simple gestures, nothing more. Just as he promised. The first time he gestured for me to kiss him it came almost too easy. It certainly helps that he’s easy on the eyes but there’s something else about Mr. Fischer. It feels natural to kiss his cheek, to let him hold me for pictures. After a while I can’t help but start to wonder what real love feels like. How it would feel if someone like Robert actually loved me-

“Robert! Margaret! Over here!”

Today’s event is the opening of a new theater. Both of us have a liking for performing arts and decided to attend the opening night of the first show. Of course there were photographers in the theater with us so I turned on the charm. Hold Robert’s hand, lay my head gently on his shoulder. Pretend to fall asleep. They loved it.

Now that the show is over we’re faced with the sea of reporters.

“Margaret! That new dress is dynamite!”

“Mr. Fischer! Mr. Fischer! Stephanie from Playboy. Would your escort be willing for a photo shoot?”

That last one nearly makes my jaw drop but Robert blocks me from her sight.

“Right this way, Mr. Fischer.” The theater owner shows us to the back of the building, where Daniel is waiting.

“Pedal to the metal, Daniel. These people are going crazy.”

I go to pull the door open but Mr. Fischer beats me to it and lets me in first. What a gentleman.

“Good job, darling,” he sighs in relief when the car starts driving.

“God help my poor parents. I’ll never hear the end of this.”

“It’s all a charade. They know that.”

I shake my head and take the time to scratch my hairspray-filled hair, messing up the classy hairdo. “It’s still humiliating. When you go out everyone practically bows because you’re… you. With money. I can hardly walk to my apartment without my neighbors teasing about how I’m your “squeeze for hire.””

I was right to assume that this job wouldn’t be as easy as it seems. After almost a week of starting as an escort my nosy neighbors finally spotted me coming home in clothing that is way too extravagant for a waitress’ salary. They put two and two together once they saw the news.

“Then let's work smarter, not harder. Come live at my place.”

What? I turn to face Robert too quickly and he takes my surprise as hostility.

“You’ll have your own room, of course,” he stutters. “This way our arrangement will be more civilized.”

Our arrangement. If this gets any deeper then people really will assume we’re together. But he’s right. If no one sees me outside of work then they can’t make up stories. Right? Still… It feels wrong to take advantage of his hospitality.

“You’ve already done enough for me. I don’t want to impose-”

“You won’t be,” Robert interrupts. “I have more than enough. Too much, actually. I need someone to share it with.”

“Maybe it’s different in the rich world but in my world it’s not polite to live off riches you don’t earn. I feel wealthy enough with how much you pay me already.”

He doesn’t seem to be taking no for an answer. Mr. Fischer reaches across the seat and takes my hand. “You are earning it, Margaret. You’re working for me.”

It’s a job. It’s… a job. A job hiding in Fischer’s house. “By playing as your happy homemaker?”

Robert’s eyes show he’s thinking. He gets like this when he’s playing chess, trying to think ahead. “More than that. I- I’ll explain later.”

We’ve arrived back at Fischer Morrow, where a group of more business officials wait inside.

I frown at the gathering through the window. “Mr. Fischer, what’s this? I didn’t think we were hosting another dinner until next month?”

“A last-minute party, I’m afraid. Only for board members so it won’t be too big.”

Wonderful. The excitement of the previous show at the theater is fading because now I have to deal with these people. It’s so much easier when it’s just Robert and I posing for pictures.

“Good luck, Mr. Fischer. Ms. Chillinger.”

“Thanks, Daniel,” I say and wave goodbye.

Robert holds out an arm and together we make our way to yet another social gathering. Oh! Here comes Mr. Browning. Mr. Fischer’s godfather is still skeptical of him involving me with so many events but every time the subject comes up Robert always argues in my favor.

“Good evening, you two.”

“Good evening, Mr. Browning,” I greet politely. “Would you gentlemen like a moment alone?”

“That would be very appreciated, Ms. Chillinger,” the man nods.

I pull away from Robert (does he look disappointed?) and slip inside the lobby. My favorite place is the fountain. Why do corporate buildings always have fountains? None of them compare to the Fischer Morrow fountain. Its main attraction is a center sculpture of a bronze Earth with different jets and currents giving off water displays representing earth, wind, fire, and air. Around the edges are real vines and other plants that give the fountain an extra finishing touch.

“Mind if I join you?”

It’s Jolene, Mr. Wallman’s escort. She’s nice.

“Hello, Jolene. How’s the water here?”

Her makeup-heavy face shows a look of warning. “Calm before the storm. The men here could use your pizazz right now. Care to start a conversation? I’ve tried everything.”

“Maybe try to talk about the new member of the Atomic Energy Commission?”

Jolene’s eyes widen. “I forget you’re still new to this. Hon, you never discuss work with your employer. We’re only here to please them and the reporters. If I tried to talk about Mr. Wallman’s work he would be very upset.”

Upset? Mr. Fischer never mentioned anything about avoiding work topics. Does he just assume I won’t talk about it? I’ve never thought about it before.

“There you are, dear.” Speak of the devil. “Would you mind joining me over here?”

I take his arm and resume my smile. “Of course, Mr. Fischer.”

He shows me over to the other side of the lobby where three men are waiting. Jolene’s right. They look bored and uninterested. If Robert needs to sell any new business pitches I need to liven them up.

“Hello again, gentlemen. You know Margaret, I assume?” Mr. Fischer introduces me.

“Ah! Of course! L.A.’s favorite sweetheart.”

“You do know how to pick ‘em, Fischer.”

I take my cue and fish for topics. “Did anyone hear the story about the youth development charity?” All I get are blank smiles. They must not like hearing an escort talk about this, like Jolene said. Time to distract. “On another note, you’ll never guess the dilemma I had last week. I chose a black dress for the New York Stock Market gala, and Mr. Fischer chose to wear navy blue! I had to find a last-minute dress to match him.”

Now all the men laugh at my error (even though both Robert and I went through miscommunication in the predicament) and partake in examining my current outfit.

“You make up for it, Ms. Chillinger. That dress you have now can do no wrong.”

One man continues to lecture me about his water plant and in the corner of my eye I see Mr. Fischer talking business with the others. My plan works because there’s no denying they're distracted now.

“Thank you, gentlemen. It’s been a productive night, but now Ms. Chillinger and I must be heading off.”

“Go easy on her, Fischer. Can’t afford to lose a pretty face like that.”

Those bastards! I swear one of these days I’m going to snap and let out my city side. I wait until Robert walks us outside before letting out a heavy groan.

“I know, I’m sorry. But you did your job well,” Mr. Fischer assures me. “I’ll give you an extra grand, if you want.”

“It’s not about the money, Mr. Fischer. You can’t buy dignity. The only reason I’m still in this is because you’re the best boss I’ve ever had.”

He doesn’t say anything. If he does have a comment he keeps quiet. We keep walking down the sidewalk and there’s still no sign of a pickup car.

“Daniel’s not coming. I thought we’d walk for a while. Is that ok?” Robert asks, almost sounding nervous.

Why would he be nervous? Probably because he’s not used to this part of town. It’s almost near where I live- or where I used to live. Now I have to think about moving to Robert’s place.

“I’m always up for a stroll outdoors,” I try to sound optimistic. “Have you always lived indoors?”

His brow furrows. “Doesn’t everyone live indoors?”

I let out a laugh. “No! I mean, yes people do. But have you always lived in a penthouse? Ever gone outside for the heck of it?”

“Oh! Um, sort of. When I was younger. Now I don’t really think about it too much-”

“Hey!”

A new hand shoves me away from Fischer and I see a new threat, only this time it’s not a corporate shark. It’s a mugger. He’s definitely a rookie because there’s no gun or knife, as if he expects for Robert to simply hand over his money.

“Take out your wallet!”

“C-Calm down. Here, here it is-” Mr. Fischer gives in and slowly pulls out his wallet. Is he serious?

“He’s not giving you anything,” I argue and step in front. “Touch Mr. Fischer again and the hand comes off.”

The mugger scoffs. “Don’t tempt me, bi- Ow!”

I grab his wrist and give it a hard twist, then give him a kick to the groin. He crumples to the ground and with my sharp heel I step straight on his wrist for good measure. He’s taken care of but we can’t stay here for long if Fischer’s going to surrender so easily to someone like that.

“Thanks for that,” Robert says when I pull him away from the groaning victim.

“I don’t kid around. Never let them see that they get to you.”

“Should I hire you as my bodyguard as well?” Fischer half-jokes.

I roll my eyes and can’t hold back a smile. “You definitely still need my street smarts.”

Why did I do that? My job is to look pretty for the cameras, not defend Fischer from threats. It was out of the goodness of my heart. Only that, right? Not because I feel sorry, not because of- something deeper. I’m doing it to be nice, because he’s definitely been plenty nice to me.

I move into Mr. Fischer’s home the following week. ‘Home’ isn’t the right word. More like an empire. He still owns his father’s penthouse downtown, along with a large mansion on the outskirts and a cabin in the mountains. I choose the mansion so I’ll be close to the city but far away from prying eyes. Of course Robert hired workers to help me move, all of which were surprised by how little I own.

“This is it?” The head mover asks.

“This is it,” I shrug. “Please be careful, some of this is fragile.”

“Are these musical posters really signed?”

“Yes. I’ve had them signed, which is why they’re special.”

In a matter of three hours my possessions are moved to the house and I’m already settling in. Robert has a meeting so he can’t show me around in person, but he still left a note.

Feel free to take any room. My quarters are on the second floor. Thanks for being flexible. -Robert

Flexible. That’s what I am now. Following my employer around like a hooker pursuing a money trail. But I am not that. I am a lady. And Mr. Fischer knows that. The other thing that catches my attention is how he signed it as Robert, not Mr. Fischer. Interesting.

I decide on the west wing upstairs, next to Robert’s rooms. The full bathroom, bedroom, and walk-in closet feels like a small house all in itself. What captures me most is the view. Half the room is made of windows that look out onto the woods behind the mansion. This ‘work smarter’ plan might not be so bad.

After I’ve unpacked and done some exploring I discover the kitchen. Another note promises that a cook will be over to prepare dinner but I can’t wait. I’ve been too busy to eat and it’ll feel good to make my own meal. In the refrigerator there’s some precooked chicken and raw vegetables. Perfect! One big skillet and a little olive oil later, I’ve made a fairly good dinner if I do say so myself. I may have grown up poor but I can still cook.

Is this what it’s like? To have a normal life? A wife cooking and upkeeping a house while the husband is at work? No. I am no wife and this life is far from normal.

“Margaret! Are you here?” Robert calls from the hallway. He walks in and does a double-take when he sees me eating. Instead of being angry he seems surprised. “What’s this?”

“Hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t wait for dinner. You’re welcome to have some.” I hold out the skillet and Robert takes a deep smell. “I know it’s not the type of fancy cuisine you’re used to but-”

“That smells amazing. You really made that?”

He likes my chicken? “Umhm.”

A new set of footsteps alert me to the door and Mr. Browning joins us. “I thought tonight’s dinner was pasta?”

“Margaret made dinner,” Robert explains with a hint of pride. “Almost makes me forget the day’s chaos.”

“How did the meeting go?” I ask without thinking. Damn it, Margaret! You’re not supposed to talk about business!

“It was… tough.” Huh? “Mr. Walker’s trying to get me to partner with his oil company because it’s losing money. He’s a friend of my father’s but I’m not sure I want to accept.”

Mr. Fischer’s letting me hear about this? It sounds stressful. Maybe I can help.

“I don’t know about energy. But I do know about business.” I take a bite of chicken and run through Robert’s words. “Seems to me like this is a scam.”

He looks up from staring at the counter, still running a hand through his hair. His eyes search mine for any hesitation but finds none. He seems to have made up his mind about something.

“Come with me to the meeting. You can point out if it’s a fraud.”

Me? In a board meeting? I’ll be cooked alive. I’m a waitress-escort, not a business expert. I won’t last ten minutes-

“Robert, I’m not sure if she’s qualified-” Thank you Browning!

“I trust her, Browning,” Fischer determines. “She’ll do fine.”

That closes the subject. He is the boss, after all. Since he trusts me with this then I can only bring what I can to the table.

“That’ll be all.”

Robert dismisses his godfather, who’s still looking skeptical, and turns back to his dinner. I see now how the day’s been tough on him. He downs the chicken like there’s no tomorrow and there’s dark circles under his exhausted eyes.

“You look tired. Something wrong?”

Robert catches me looking and tries to shake his drowsiness away. “I don’t sleep too well.”

Between balancing his father’s expectations and the mantle of CEO it’s not unusual.

“Ever wonder what is real?”

Oh. It’s that kind of insomnia. Who knew Fischer’s thinking went that deep?

“Sometimes,” I reply after consideration. “I try not to think about that too much, otherwise I fry my brain.”

“Are you satisfied with your lodgings?”

I flash him a wide smile. “Is that a joke? This whole place is gorgeous, Mr. Fischer.”

“I’m glad you like it. You deserve it,” Robert grins. “The press loves you.”

They love me. But what’s the point of being loved by hundreds of strangers when I can’t even have the approval of my own family?

“You don’t know my parents. They will never accept this.” I gesture between him and me.

“You never met my father. I’d say we’re even.”

The distant way he says that labels deeper father-son issues. It’s no secret that they didn’t see eye-to-eye when the elder Fischer was alive, and Robert doesn’t seem to have let the guilt go.

“Did you hate him that much?” Don’t pry too deep.

“He… was a businessman,” Robert mutters. “Being a father came second, despite my efforts to please him. I don’t hate him, Margaret. I know he loved me. He just didn’t show it until he died.”

Sometimes I forget how young Robert was when he lost his father. Something like that isn’t easy to cope with, especially if they didn’t make amends.

“Your mother is dead too?” I ask softly.

He walks over to the wine rack and nods. “Died when I was 11. That young, and my father did nothing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Everyone has their own way of grieving. His must have been denial. Did you two ever recover?”

Fischer pops a bottle open. “Not exactly. He never wanted to talk about her again, so I just clung to what memories I had.” Out of the blue he sets the wine down and I see him disappear up the staircase. After a few moments he comes back panting and holding a picture frame. “See this? This was taken when I was 6. It’s my favorite memory.”

The picture Robert holds up shows a child and an older man, each with the same dark hair. The boy is blowing a handmade pinwheel on a bright sunny day. There’s something innocent about Robert’s young face- before he began trying so hard to earn his father’s approval.

“Before he died, all I could make out from his last words was how he thought I’m a disappointment,” Robert mutters in a distant tone as he pours a glass of wine.

“That’s not true.” Escort or no escort, I’m not ignoring this. “You are not a disappointment, Mr. Fischer. Anyone who spends a day in your shoes would agree.”

“But I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Everyone expects me to be just like my dad, but… Nevermind.”

Don’t ask further, Margaret. He doesn’t want to talk-

“What?” Stupid stupid stupid!

“You’ll laugh,” Robert waves it off.

“I promise I won’t. And if I do, you can subtract it from my salary.”

The man eyes me with a suspicion but doesn’t reprimand me. He sighs heavily and toys with his glass. “Something… Something in a dream told me that I shouldn’t try so hard to be like my father. Maybe it’s right.”

“Why would I laugh at that? Premonition and epiphany come to us in many different forms, Mr. Fischer. Call this God’s way of saying you can be your own person.”

Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad! But instead of scolding me for prying Robert takes in my words gracefully.

“Would you like a drink?”

Drinking with my boss? Normally people might call this inappropriate but then again my job isn’t exactly traditional. A small glass won’t hurt.

“Yes, please.”

Mr. Fischer pours another glass. “Um, you don’t have to stay up long. Since, you know, we’re not getting mobbed by the press right now. I won’t force you to follow me around my own home.”

Wow, this is good wine. I understand where he’s coming from. This situation of living with my boss isn’t traditional either. Am I on the clock now or is this just a social call? I have free time to myself, and yet- This doesn’t feel forced. I’m actually enjoying myself. And judging by his nervous body language Mr. Fischer is too, he’s just too scared to admit it.

“I don’t mind. I’m up for some wine, no payment required.”

Robert’s eyes do little to hide both his excitement and slight fear. “Really?”

“Really. That is if you don’t mind the company, Mr. Fischer.”

He downs the rest of the drink and pours another glass. “I’ve played mind games before. Not a fan. I don’t let just anyone into my life.”

I’m not ‘anyone’ to him? A few months ago any pedestrian on the street would define me as ‘nobody.’ I only knew Robert for a mere ten minutes before he offered me a job. Either he’s quick to judge or his judgment is poor. There’s no half-assing it now. I’ve somehow proven to him that I’m a worthy escort, now I need to stay sharp for his business.

“Me neither. I will do my best, Mr. Fischer.”

He seems confused. “At the…?”

“At the meeting, yes.”

Recognition hits him and he nods, looking at the floor. Of course the meeting. What else would there be? I’ve got serious work to do if Robert is this shy during business meetings.

Last night’s sleep was… serviceable. The first three hours I spent tossing and turning, trying to ignore the eerie echoing of the giant empty house. City life always provides noise so the new atmosphere isn’t as comfortable as it seems. Finally I got fed up and searched for something to make noise and was blessed with a box fan hidden in a broom closet. Ten minutes later and I slept like the dead. However my beauty rest better hold up because so far I’ve hated every second of this meeting.

When Robert walked into the room with me in tow half the men waiting for us laughed. Once they were told I was here as a consultant they laughed even harder.

“Does your consultant do house calls?”

“I’d let her whisper in my ear.”

Disgusting. Relax, Margaret. You’re here to help Robert. It’s all business… right?

“As I was saying,” a Mr. Walker continues. “Walker and Co. has been losing funds for months now and my board agrees it’s best to partner with you. There’s just no oil left in our New Mexico drilling sites.”

New Mexico. Where did I hear that before? Oh! It was Justin! Last week, during my errand to the dry cleaners, he stopped to say hi. What did he say? Something about a new job… For Walker and Co.! There’s no way the company’s going bankrupt.

“Excuse me gentlemen. Mr. Fischer, there’s a call for you in the hall.”

Robert gets the hint and begins to stand-

“He can answer it later,” Walker interrupts. “This cannot wait.”

That bastard! “Very well. Sir, may I speak to you for a moment?” I grab Robert by the tie and pull him to the corner despite his strained protest.

“That’s not true,” I whisper and jerk my head towards Walker. “I’ve heard there’s plenty of oil in those parts.”

Mr. Fischer’s eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

“Word travels fast in the streets. People want jobs, they go to where the money is. In this case it’s oil. Walker’s mentioned to have a whole row of jobs lined up. I know because one of my friends just started working for him. He’s lying.”

Suddenly I hear someone get up and passive-aggressively pull me away. “Not now, honey. The adults are talking.”

My jaw drops but Robert is quicker to react.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” he barks with murder in his eyes.

Walker scoffs. “Why even have her here, Robert? She’s just a hooker-”

I lurch forward but Robert blocks me with his arm and jabs a finger at the jerk’s chest.

“Absolutely not! She is here for official business, and I will not allow you to talk about Ms. Chillinger that way.”

Now the rest of the men start jabbing at me.

“Do you like that, hm? Using your boss for prime luxury like this?” One man leans in with an accusing sneer.

“Get outta my face!” I shove him away.

“Oh-ho! There’s still some street talk in this one!” Walker snickers. “You like it rough, Robert.”

My eyes narrow and I make a performance to pull out my phone. “Do not tempt me. I could destroy your image in half a day.”

My threat hits him square in the chest but he doesn’t back down. “Oh really?”

I arch a brow. “Really. Ever heard of Phineas Brockowski? He’s a personal fan of mine and would be willing to die for an interview with Mr. Fischer. I could let it slip that a certain Mr. Walker makes weekly visits to strip clubs. Would your wife enjoy hearing that on the evening news?” I strike a nerve. A look of horror slips onto the man’s face and I smirk. “I didn’t think so. Now, it’s been quite a time having you here-” I push Walker away and herd the others to the door. “But I’m afraid it’s time for you gentlemen to leave. Anything to add, Mr. Fischer?”

Robert’s still glaring with a stern frown. “I refuse your offer. And for the record, if you ever insult her again I’ll see to it nobody ever does business with you again.”

The men try to re-appeal to our sympathy but I slam the door shut anyway. Immediately Robert lets out a groan and collapses in his chair, rubbing his temples.

“Margaret, I- I am so sorry. I thought bringing you here was a good idea-”

“No, it’s my fault sir. Mr. Browning’s right. I’m not nearly qualified-”

“No, no! You were perfect. It’s them. It wasn’t a good idea because- because…” He trails off and I see him trying to discreetly look me over. I look presentable, don’t I? I chose a blue blazer and knee-length skirt.

“They don’t take me seriously, do they?” I hang my head to hide my disappointment. “It’s alright. I’ll stick to galas and publicity stunts.” That’s what my job is originally. Why did I ever think I could do something more?

“No, wait. Margaret, I don’t want everyone to think you- you’re not dumb, you’re not an ordinary, um…”

Obviously he means hooker but is too shy to say. God, this man’s innocence is adorable- Cut that out, Margaret! It’s those kinds of thoughts that do turn you into a dumb hooker!

“I know I’m not that, Mr. Fischer. But it’s alright if not everyone else does. Now, would you like something to drink? I know I do.”

I make a beeline for the minibar in the corner but Robert makes no requests.

“Alcohol doesn’t help. I need to keep my mind clear,” he mutters, still rubbing his head.

“How about painkillers? Meditation? Exercise?”

“Painkillers make me drowsy, meditation is too boring, and exercise makes me pass out.”

Hm. I’ll keep grasping at straws. “Maybe you need other methods of… coping with stress.”

This gets his attention. “Like what?”

“Um… Other escorts tell me some men prefer physical means of stress release.”

“Like a hand job?” Thank God I don’t have to elaborate on that.

“Yes.”

Surprisingly Robert still declines by shaking his head. “I don’t work like that. Besides, I'd never ask you to do something like that.”

I almost choke on my martini. My pulse snaps and I need to regain my thoughts. It’s just a misunderstanding, Margaret. “I didn’t mean for me to do it. I meant that you would hire a professional.” A real hooker.

“That’s out of the question.” Huh? “Like I said, I don’t let just anyone into my life. You’re all I need, Margaret.”

I- I am..? He really does appreciate what I do. Even if he does pay for it. Golly. It feels nice to feel wanted. That’s what’s causing the fluttering in my stomach. Get a grip! He’s your boss. You wouldn’t be doing a good job if he didn’t want you around. You’re supposed to look pleasing. You’re an escort! Stop thinking about what it might be like to- Just stop!

I down the rest of the drink and the alcohol’s sting snaps me back. “Will that- ah!”

I spin around too fast and trip over my feet, colliding with Robert and crashing to the floor. As if my heart wasn't racing already, it flies past the speed limit when I realize I’ve landed on Robert’s chest and his face is inches from mine. He’s much sturdier than I expected given his lanky build. His mouth is agape as well. We both freeze stiff as a board, completely unsure how to react. Those crystal eyes stare unblinking, almost daring me to go further.

“S- Sorry,” I stutter and hastily roll off so we can each breathe.

“‘S… It’s alright,” Mr. Fischer mutters, each of us still shocked.

I get up and help him stand, brushing off the accident as if it was nothing and start dusting off his coat.

“W-What are you doing?” he stiffens but doesn’t try to move away, trying to avoid my eyes.

“Can’t have the CEO of Fischer Morrow walking around like he just stumbled through a wind tunnel,” I speak smoothly and adjust his tie. A tie that I could use to pull him- Knock it off, Margaret! “Will that be all, Mr. Fischer?”

Robert’s still staring down at me. “Hm? Oh, yes. That’s all. Thank you.”

“I will return home-” I catch myself. “To your home, and prepare for tomorrow’s brunch.”

“Very good. I’ll be home shortly.”

Before I leave I give him a sincere look of worry. “Don’t overwork yourself, Mr. Fischer.”

A few hours later I notice an extra five grand in my bank account. God, Robert. I feel bad enough taking your money while you’ve also let me live in your house rent free.

Spring cream suit, brown loafers… Will Robert look better with a blue or green tie? Blue, to go with his eyes. Now I just need to check the reservation-

“What are you doing?”

I flinch and nearly drop my clipboard. Jeez, this house is quiet! I didn’t even hear Robert come in. And… he’s caught me looking in his closet. It’s a very organized one, I’ll give him that. The other thing I didn't expect was for him to be a fan of building models. All over his room there’s shelves and shelves of miniature models. Cars, planes, everything. I didn’t mean to intrude but he can’t blame me for planning ahead!

“Well, um… I wanted to make sure my dress matched your suit so I-”

“So you decided to pick out a suit for me,” Fischer finishes.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly and lower my head. “Please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to pry, I swear.”

He sets down his briefcase and walks over. First I crash into him, now he thinks I’m snooping in his closet! He’s going to slap me-!

“I’m not mad, Margaret.” Huh? “You don’t need permission to come in here. I think the suit you picked is perfect.”

“R-Really? I thought it was appropriate for the flower display we’ll be sitting by.” Relief floods through my veins. This man would never hurt a fly!

“A very good choice, Margaret,” Robert compliments as he examines the attire I’ve laid out, looking up with those gorgeous eyes and somehow getting caught in mine.

No, not again. Keep this professional. He’s your boss! He pays for you! For whatever reason my face is good enough for ten grand, so that’s why I’m here.

I’m the first one to look away, gripping my clipboard tighter. “Will that be all, Mr. Fischer?”

The man blinks and shakes his head, seeming to clear himself from a deep thought. “Yes. Yes, Margaret.”

I slip past him and gently close the door. “Goodnight, sir.”

His soft eyes don’t leave mine. “Goodnight.”

God, this job is getting to my head, I pray as I shed my blazer for a comfortable sleep shirt and shorts. I don’t care what others’ say, no expensive nightwear compares to a worn sleepshirt. And it’s no use buying things like lingerie anyway. I never understood that. Why would girls pay hundreds for scraps of fabric that men will rip off anyway? If anything a simple nightdress can be just as attractive. Not that I have anyone who would care.

Robert might care… If it goes with my dresses, that is. Would he? Would it be assuring to know that I can upkeep appearances under the hood as well? No. It’s not worth getting my head wrapped around that puzzle. It’s for the better that I save up and… Then what? Apart from my employment with Mr. Fischer I have nothing. Once I thought that maybe I’d see the world after I’d saved enough but now there’s no point. Robert’s business has flown me to all corners of the globe. Ireland, Greece, Australia, Japan, Mexico. In the past four months he’s given me a lifetime of an adventure. Since that’s crossed off the list… I don’t know. I suppose I’ll just keep working for him until I get too old to be a worthwhile escort or he gets married-

Thump!

The noise jolts me from my half-asleep state. That’s not normal. This house is quest enough to hear a pin drop. Would anyone try to break in?

I slip out of the covers of my giant king-sized bed and creep over to look out into the hallway.

Thump!

That came from Robert’s room!

I throw away all manner of caution and sprint down the wood floor, heaving the heavy door open. Thank God it’s not locked! Now where’s Robert? He’s not in his bed. There’s no sign of a break-in. Where could he-?

“Margaret?” A small voice comes from the floor.

My head snaps around to find the man huddling on the floor next to his bed.

“Mr. Fischer! I thought there was a robbery! Are you ok?!”

I kneel down and search for injuries. There’s no physical sign of distress but Robert’s frantic behavior paired with how he’s shaking leads me to believe something isn’t right.

“C-Can’t sleep- Nightmare.” He tries to wave me off. “J-just go.”

That’s the end, Margaret. You can’t help if he doesn’t want it-

“No wait!”

I freeze midstep from walking away, my heart clenching at his choked up words.

“Stay? Please, please… stay,” Robert says softly. Is he asking or ordering me to? Would this be part of my job?

“You know the terms of our contract-”

“I know. Just- just need someone to…” His frightened eyes silently plead and I know this isn’t business.

He doesn’t need an escort or any other employee. He needs someone who cares. Someone to chase away whatever demons he’s seeing and provide comfort.

“Calm down,” I take Robert’s shaking hand and help him get back into his bed, choosing to sit on the edge. “I’ll stay here, just relax.”

Robert finally closes his eyes and lays his head on the pillow. “Thank you… thank you…”

This doesn’t seem to be covered by the job description but I can’t leave him. What kind of person would I be if I left him like this?

“I- I’ll pay for your time-”

I shake my head and put a hand on his chest to stop him. “This is off the clock, Mr. Fischer. Money’s not important right now. You need to sleep.”

I can’t let the CEO of Fischer Morrow get sleep-deprived. Not only as an employer but as a friend. Yes, a friend. Nothing more.

In the dark his eyes open again and I see the tension in his face melt away. “Call me Robert. Since it’s off the clock.”

Then he falls asleep. His hand goes limp in mine and he finally starts breathing steadily. He must be really tired to fall asleep this fast. That was too close. Too close, Margaret. You’re letting your heart get you in over your head. Robert must still be processing memories of his father. He needs a proper therapist. That’s what I’ll suggest to Mr. Browning tomorrow.

Robert shifts in his sleep and half-pulls me into the bed with him. Uh-Oh. As much as I want to fulfill my promise I also don’t want to leave us both in what might look like a compromising position. Maybe- Bingo! I grab the extra pillows and create a makeshift barrier between us. A better look at Robert shows me his own sleep attire is only shorts and a loose tank top. Guess we both have similar tastes. As sleep looms over me again I can’t help but notice my heart skip a beat every time Robert squeezes my hand.

“He had another nightmare?” Browning asks the next morning.

“Another?” I look up from the eggs I’m cooking. “You mean they’re consistent?”

Mr. Fischer’s godfather nods and sips his coffee. “Even before his father passed. And he let you stay with him?”

My cheeks flush and I keep my eyes focused on the eggs. “Yes. I assure you I had no hidden intentions. Mr. Fischer didn’t want to be alone. He should talk to a therapist about these if they’re not going away.”

He’s still sleeping and it’s already 10 a.m. I slipped away without waking him and decided it was best to let him sleep. That brunch meeting can afford to be postponed.

“It may not be my place to say this, but it’s in Robert’s best interest.” Mr. Browning pauses. Here we go. “I’m glad he chose you.”

I blink in confusion and fold the eggs onto a plate. “Um, thanks?”

The older man doesn't look away, continuing to analyze me with consideration. “You may not be the politician wife his father hoped for, but he loves you. Robert is happy with you.”

Love? In my surprise the plate slips from my hands and shatters across the floor. Oh no, no.

“Sir, he doesn’t love me. He’s a very nice boss, but that’s all,” I stutter and make haste to find a broom. A politician wife?

“Ms. Chillinger- Margaret, surely you’ve noticed that Robert can be a complicated man. He’s been less stressed since you started working. Robert has always been afraid of pleasing people. His father, the press. He never let many women into his life.”

“Then why did he look for an escort?” I whisper and clean up the rest of my mess, my heart racing and tears beginning to blur my vision. What’s happening?

“You know as well as I that half of this business is playing the game of show,” Browning explains. “Showing the cars, the suits, the women. Robert knew he would need a woman to keep up with appearances. When I offered to find him a professional escort he denied and was determined to choose one himself. The next day he came by with you.”

On my knees I keep my head hung and try to piece together anything logical. “I- I’m not even a real escort.”

“You’re not a traditional escort, no. But that’s a good thing.” I hear the godfather get up and walk over to kneel next to me, not speaking until I look up to face him. “He told me about how you protect him. Not every woman does that. I’m glad he found you, Ms. Chillinger. Robert is in good hands.”

We both stay like this for a few minutes, each exchanging a silent understanding. I’ve done what every woman’s dreamt of. At the same time I’ve earned the godfather’s blessing and the heart of Robert Fischer.

“Everything ok?”

We both look up. Robert’s awake and is looking down at the broken glass. He put on a light robe over himself but its loose knot still shows part of his toned chest underneath the tank top.

“I- It’s my fault, Mr. Fischer. I was careless enough to drop a plate,” I speak as evenly as I can while trying to not look away.

“Her eggs make up for it. Definitely a keeper.” Mr. Browning backs me up and I see him give me a wink.

This flies right past Robert, who’s still waking up. “What time-? Oh God!”

“Relax, relax.” My nerves get thrown out and I switch into business mode, putting my hands on his shoulders to calm him. “I called ahead and postponed the meeting. Your sleep is more important.”

He looks down at my hands and his eyes tell me he remembers last night. “Um, th-thanks. For, um, yeah…”

“Don’t mention it, Mr. Fischer. What matters now is that you’re rested. Now eat.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Robert digs into my plate of eggs like it’s his last meal on death row. Browning and I exchange looks as if to say ‘he needs a break.’ The godfather excuses himself without a word and exits through the side door. Is he leaving us alone on purpose? He mentioned the word wife. Is that term used lightly or should I be concerned?

“So- what else- is- going on today?” Robert asks between bites.

“There’s a press meeting at the park.”

“Nah.”

I look up and do a double-take. “Excuse me?”

Robert takes another bite. “What else?”

He’s never turned down a scheduled event. “Um… that’s it. Unless there’s a last-minute call from New York-”

“It can wait. What do you want to do?” Robert asks once he’s done eating.

My eyes widen and I point to myself. “Me? My vote doesn’t count, Mr. Fischer. If this is to bribe me for not telling about the nightmares it’s completely unnecessary-”

“It’s not exactly that,” Robert replies, setting his fork down and looking over at me. “I- I want to thank you, properly. For doing that. What would you like to do today? Anything. Anything at all.” Anything…

“You’ve already helped me knock so many things off my bucket list,” I think out loud. “Well… There’s something, but it isn’t a normal request.”

Robert takes my hand and I can’t help but look up at his hypnotizing eyes. “Anything.”

Today is officially marked as one of the best days of my life. My unusual request was granted unquestionably by Robert and he seems to have enjoyed it just as much. I got to see my top favorite band! Not just to watch, no. I got to meet them! I’m still not sure if it was real. The only thing reminding me it was real is that Robert was with me.

“Thank you, Mr. Fischer! Thank you so much!” I say for the billionth time as we ride the jet home.

“So you’ve mentioned!” The dark-haired man laughs as he pours out some drinks.

“I’m serious! That was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me!”

He takes a sip and looks at me with content. “It’s cute to see you so passionate about something.”

The term cute almost flies past me but my overstimulated mind still catches it. Robert must have too because he looks away and busies himself by checking his phone. We fall into a comfortable silence and when the plane lands Daniel is waiting for us once again. Back at the mansion it doesn’t seem so empty now that Robert’s laughter rings through the halls. Browning’s right, he’s much less stressed now than when I first met him.

It’s late but I feel no urge to retire yet. We reach the kitchen and suddenly I’m blinded by two hands over my eyes.

“Mr. Fischer! What’s going on?” I giggle pathetically like a schoolgirl.

Behind me I hear him breathing through a smile as he leads me over to the grand living room. “There’s one last thing I wanted to give you,” he says mischievously.

God, Robert. There’s only so much I can take from you, only so much until it’s too much. What else can he possibly-?

“Ta-da.” Robert pulls his hands away and I’m facing the living room. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary… “Check the cup holder.”

His words draw my attention to the couch cup holders. I peer down and-

“Oh Robert,” I breathe. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

The silver key feels cold against my hand, a simple keyring with the Rolls Royce logo etched in blue. So small and yet so thoughtful that I almost drop it.

“You mentioned that you’re not used to being driven to work. Now you can drive yourself instead of relying on Daniel. Be more independent, as you would say. And you’ve talked about always wanting a vintage Rolls Royce.”

“Rob- Mr. Fischer, I cannot accept this.”

His face falls. Did I do something wrong? Shouldn’t he be glad I’m not draining his money?

“I’m- sorry if I offended you,” Robert says softly. Offended me?

“How could you offend me? You don’t understand.” My hands start shaking and I feel everything bottling up from the past months start to spill. “I don’t come from money, I- I’m not used to just pulling out a plastic card to pay for things like this. A freaking car?”

Despite my frazzled outburst Robert remains calm. “I know.”

“Then don’t take offense when I decline these things, Mr. Fischer. This job? This house you let me live in?” I gesture to our surroundings. “That’s been more than enough for payment.”

“I wanted to make up for having to put you through it. The job.” Robert approaches me slowly to show no harm with hidden guilt in his eyes. He must be disturbed by my job but still needs me to keep up appearances.

I take a deep breath and use a gentler tone. “That’s no problem anymore. I have a thick skin, I can handle it. What I can’t handle is seeing you unhappy when those bastards try to push you around. That’s why you need me.”

That came out wrong. I know I struck something because Robert’s soft gaze has been replaced with a look of provocation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks in a low voice.

“I- You, um…” How do I break it to a grown man that he needs more confidence?

“Go on, say it!” Robert taunts in a slightly shaking voice. “I need a spine, don’t I? You think I don’t know that?! I know I’m helpless without money! If I was tossed to the streets I’d be dead in a week, if that.”

I’ve backed myself against the couch. This is the first time Mr. Fischer’s raised his voice to me. Why is he so upset about this? I’m trying to help him! But if he’s not going to accept it then I can’t make him.

“I’m not a secretary and I’m not a therapist. If you need one, hire one,” I speak in a low warning voice and move around to edge towards the door. “Don’t pile this on me.”

“You aren’t a secretary, and you’re more than just an escort.” Robert clutches his head and stutters what I think is an explanation. “I needed- I need someone to keep me in check with reality. And it’s you.”

Good heavens. I’ve seen Robert look intimidated before but never heard him sound this affectionate. My legs turn to stone and I give in to ignore the urge to run away as Robert walks closer, reaching his arms out to gently grab my shoulders. I could drown in those eyes forever… He steps closer and our chests meet. I’ve been held by Robert dozens of times for publicity. This time is different. It’s intimate, more… softer. And… I like it. Is that wrong?

Lost deep in this thought I hardly notice Robert leaning his head in. It’s not until his soft lips ghost against mine that my body goes even stiffer. My lips. We’ve never kissed on the lips.

“You can leave if you don’t feel comfortable,” Robert whispers, lips still leasing mine. “This isn’t a part of the contract-”

“I’m not thinking about the contract.”

Strength returns to my arms and before I can control myself I push him to the wall. We both stare unblinking at each other for what seems like eternity; silently arguing with ourselves about this contradicting matter. Out of nowhere a hidden feeling that’s been building up inside me sparks to life in my eyes. Robert sees it too and finally closes the gap.

It’s instant energy. As if on instinct I push harder and feel his arms wrap around my waist. Robert Fischer, you’ve been hiding in plain sight. All this time I’ve been escorting him and this is what I’m missing… He may look shy but Robert is a brilliant kisser. Soft and slow and yet full of desperate fire and passion.

“I want this- Oh God.” What am I doing?!

I pull off and jump away as if being doused with ice water. What have I done? I just kissed my boss!

“This isn’t supposed to be real,” I stutter, shaking my head trying to convince myself this isn’t right. “This is supposed to be professional.”

But Robert does not see my attempts at logic. Instead his sad face looks as if I just slapped him. “You’ve been a wonderful- a fantastic escort. And I- I want more…”

My nerves quelch. “If you’re suggesting prostitution-”

“No!” He answers quickly.

“So… a promotion?”

Robert shakes his head and his eyes squeeze shut. “God Margaret, I’m in love with you.”

Love. There’s that word again. The spoken word binds itself into my heart and my head is spinning.

“You never took me for a man who falls in love… I don’t fully understand the concept of love.” I chuckle at my own confession. “I’ve had offers, I could have been married at this point. But I wanted to do what I wanted in life without having a relationship to hold me back.” I scoff and look down at myself, a complicated mix of frustration and sadness swelling through my chest. “And now look how far those dreams got me. I’m an escort.”

Robert approaches once more. “You’re my escort. You’re even more to me than that.”

“But you paid me to do it! Money can’t buy love.”

“Then explain why you just had me against the wall with the biggest erection I’ve ever had in my life.”

My jaw drops. I-?

“You could have left at any time. There’s something you feel, I know it.” Robert grabs my hand and puts it to his chest. “I feel it too, Margaret. I have for a few weeks now. I love you.”

His words cause tears to sting my eyes and I try to stay strong. “How can you be sure? How do you know it’s not just your testosterone talking?”

Despite the instinct to look away I keep Robert’s gaze as he pulls me back to the couch. Those soft eyes have grown determined. He’s not bluffing.

“This isn’t a one-time thing, Margaret. I know because there is no other woman who’s made me feel this. You’re the only woman I want in my life, for the rest of my life.” We both sit down and he’s still holding my hand. “Do you want me to prove it?”

Prove. Have these past months not said enough? All these gifts? Or was it all a transaction? Maybe some proof is in order-

“I need you to tell me,” Robert interrupts my thoughts, his face inches from mine.

I don’t hesitate again and nod. “Yes.” God, yes.

And he does prove it. Not through his kind words or affectionate actions but through something I can’t quite explain… Like an unseen energy. Robert’s soft touch lays me back on the cushion and peppers sweet kisses down my neck. All I can do is lie still and stare up at the high ceiling.

“How can you fall in love with someone like me?”

“Huh?” Robert pants to catch his breath.

“We both come from very different worlds, Robert-”

“If you’re trying to say I can’t love you because you’re not rich, that’s a complete lie.” He hugs me close and can’t seem to stop looking at me. “God… How are you real?”

“You paid for it, you tell me,” I half-joke. But Robert doesn’t see any humor in it.

“If finance was off the record would you still love me?”

I pull on his tie and don’t blink. “Without question. I never want you to think my love for you comes with a price tag.” Now it’s my turn to press a kiss to his soft lips. “This is me, Robert. Loving you.”

“I want this,” he breathes, his eyes closed in bliss. “I want us.”

“Then you can have me. Or at least what’s left of me. I’ll be yours, Robert.”

Boss or no boss, I love him more deeply than any man I’ve ever met. Everything I’ve imagined seems possible. What it’s like to kiss, to feel loved…

Robert slides lower and nuzzles his head against my bust, using my chest as a pillow. No man’s ever done this to me and I don’t want him to stop. If I’m the rock he needs to stay sane then he’s my own as well.

“God, you’re here…” Robert’s voice is muffled by my shirt.

“And I’m all yours,” I speak for him, running a hand through his soft hair.

This gets a moan from him. “You’re all mine… Good thing I was there to catch you when you fell.”

All those months ago. In the pouring rain.

“I did fall for you, Robert. I’ve been falling for you for a long time, and I was completely oblivious to it.”

When he looks up at me again his face is painted with unquestioning devotion. I’ve never seen him smile so wide. Just looking at his happiness would give any person a reason to live for.

Another thing he said clings to the back of my thoughts.”Did I really make you go hard?”

Immediately Robert’s face goes bright red but he muscles through and nods. “Absolutely. I- I fell for you too. And, in the possible near future, if you ever feel like falling a little harder…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” I smirk.

His eyes nearly bulge out and his body starts shaking. “Really? Oh, Margaret. Th-thank you!”

I smile sweetly down at him and shake my head teasingly. “You are such a simp.”

“Hey!” Robert shows mock offense and rolls us over on the couch so he’s on the bottom. “You know I’m a people pleaser.”

“Yes, you definitely are,” I giggle.

“Well then-” Suddenly Robert wraps his arms around me and hoists me up. “How about now?”

My breath hitches. “N-Now? I- Um…”

Robert’s face falls and we both blush. “We don’t have to- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-”

“No, no,” I groan and bury my head in his chest. “It’s not that. I’m just not… too experienced. I can pull off an escort charade easily but don’t actually know much about… you know. Whatever you might expect me to do I’m not sure I can.”

I feel Robert’s warm hands gently rub my back and pull me closer (if that’s even possible).

“Margaret, I don’t expect anything. I just want to love you. Want to show just how much you mean to me. I-” He swallows nervously and I slowly look up to reach his eyes. “I don’t know too much either.”

How can a man this sweet exist? Never did I ever think a man would be willing to care this much. He needs my street smarts. Now it’s time for both of us to learn something new.

“Then let’s learn it together,” I whisper and his grip on me tightens.

“Yes- Please. Please.”

In one swift motion I’m lifted up and carried bridal-style through the drafty halls. Through the kitchen, up the stairs, down the hall. To Robert’s room. Laid down on the soft sheets. When I look up Robert’s adorable face is smiling down at me. Nervous, but excited.

“R-Ready?”

I feel underdressed (or overdressed?) for the occasion in my plain gray slacks and red blazer. But that doesn’t matter now. I meet his eyes again and give a determined nod.

“I’m all yours, Robert. Always have been.”

Wake up…

My eyes fly open and I burst awake. Where am I? Someone’s next to me-! Oh.

Even in his sleep Robert looks absolutely to die for. Apparently the nightmares haven’t plagued him tonight because he’s sleeping sweet as an angel; breathing softly and clinging to me like a human pillow. How can I squeeze out-?

“Hm?” Robert begins to stir.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. I was just getting up-”

“No you’re not.” Robert sits up and pulls me back down, kissing my ear. “Not yet.” We lay for a few seconds in comfortable silence. “Last night… How was…?”

Last night. My body’s still aching from the memory, one I want to relive over and over.

“Robert. Last night was magnificent.”

He sighs in relief and gets a naughty smirk. “So there may be a chance for a follow-up?”

I grin wickedly. “It’s already in the books.”

“Oh really? So when is it?” Robert asks, playing along.

“Anytime you want, Robert.”

This surprises him and his eyes widen. “Wha- Really?”

“Yes. If each time is going to be like last night I don’t want to waste a second.”

“Well then-” He pecks my lips and rubs a thumb across my cheek. “Round two?”

“Robert!” I chuckle. “We can’t stay here forever.” A new thought hits me. “Oh no. When’s the-?”

“The first meeting isn’t until ten,” Robert replies and rests snugly against my chest. “We can stay here for a while longer.”

I roll my eyes. “Alright then, mister clingy. What time is it now?”

He lifts his head. “Shit! It’s already nine-!”

He jumps as if he’s been electrocuted and tries to scramble out of the twisted sheets.

“Calm down.” I pull him steady and make him face me. “I already pressed your suit, it’s laid out in the bathroom. I called Daniel last night and told him to pick you up this morning. He’s on his way.”

“God, you’re an angel!” Robert praises and stands up. “Thank you, sweetheart!”

“No trouble. What I need from you is for you to stop stressing yourself out. I can’t fight all your battles.”

Something about Robert’s face tells me what I said has him thinking. This is not the time for thinking.

“Get going before your brain catches fire,” I shoo him off. “There’s leftover egg casserole in the fridge. Will you need me for any events today, Mr. Fischer?”

That sounds off. We both think so. We each stare at each other, trying to decide how to proceed. When do I acknowledge him as my boss? Will this relationship be made public? God, I hope not. Then all the tales spun by the media will have come true.

“Y-You’re going to be late,” I finally break the silence. “Better get cleaned up.”

“Right. Yeah…”

Robert walks to the bathroom, still looking confused, and gives me the cue to go find my own outfit for the day. Things are just getting started…

“I’m home!” Robert calls from the door.

I look up from reading American Prometheus and rush down the stairs. All day I haven’t gotten a call to come in so I’ve been trying to find things to keep myself busy. A maid already came in to clean and there’s enough prepped food, so the only thing left was reading.

“How was the office?” I ask after pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Boring. It’s far better when you’re there.”

“Then call me in,” I shrug. “That’s partly why I’m here. For the business, and you.”

“Right. That. Um…” Robert grabs my hand and looks around. “I should- Let’s talk in the living room.”

I don’t question it. We both can feel the unanswered questions clinging to the air. Robert leads me to the couch and sits me down, never taking his eyes off me.

“By now you know how my life works,” he starts.

“Yes.”

“And you know that somewhere down the line I need a wife.”

Just like Browning said. A politician wife.

I nod. “Yes.”

Robert copies my nod and runs a hand through his hair, getting more and more shaky. “I was just- planning ahead. And, um, if you might refuse I understand that you wouldn’t want to keep working for me if I was married-”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Robert. I will marry you.”

The man doesn’t speak. He just keeps staring at me with his mouth wide open. I’m incredibly frazzled myself. God, I hope I didn’t misread the situation. Was that the answer he was looking for?

“That is what you’re asking, isn’t it?” I ask hesitantly.

Robert, still staring, slowly nods his head. “You’d want to marry me? Be my wife?”

His wife. Mrs. Margaret Fischer. The title of being wife to the CEO of Fischer Morrow doesn’t stand out. It’s the title of being Robert’s wife that catches me. To be the one he trusts, the one he turns to during sleepless nights. To see his sweet face every day until I grow old.

“I love you so much, Robert.” I cup his face in my hands and we both try to ignore the tears in each other’s eyes. “I would love to be your wife.”

By now we’re both shaking. Not from distress or fear but bubbling happiness. He asked me. Of all people, me. To be his wife.

“I know this is all very sudden,” he whispers. “So if we want to ease into doing anything…”

“Yes, that- That’s the logical thing to do.” Finally! My brain is working again. “Would- Do you want the engagement to be made public? Or wait until after the wedding? Oh God. My parents are going to faint-!”

“Hey, hey.” Robert takes my hands, a smile growing on his face. “This isn't something to stress about. This is a happy thing, Margaret. The happiest moment of my life!”

My own smile spreads across my lips and I lean up to kiss him again. “That makes two of us.”

#robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #inception #cillian murphy #robert fischer x oc

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short-black-diamond · 2 years

Text

The other woman. (part 2)

Previous: part one

Next: part three, part four- Izuku’s end

Heya, I am doing part two, no idea how it’ll go, but uhm, yeah.

Warnings: suggestive content-but nothing really happens, cheating, lots of angst for izuku, hate-love, you slowly fall out of love with Deku, Izuku feels guilty and shit, timelaps, suicide thoughts, you feel a little guilty, but not too much, LONG CHAPTER

summary: As Izuku thinks about how he should tell you and admit how he cheated on you, you are finishing your last preps to completely break him. Now, all he can do is think about where you might’ve headed off to.

Also: Did I write this all with a resting bitch face?

Yes.

Word count: 4k words

Have fun reading!

...

{...Last time : }

You gently pushed him away from you, his heart breaking at the sight of you avoiding body contact with him. you looked at him with a sad and dissapointed expression and looked away, going to sleep in the guest room. Now that the young man was alone, he thought about your behavior.

You and him didn’t really spend time together, the last time being him and you fucking last night. Before that, you were busy looking for evidences of a new case you could work on alone since you got your promotion.

...

He thought about you real hard then. You were always there for him. Always. You always stood up late at night to greet him. You oftentimes came to his office and brought him lunch, which then ended in a hot make-out session or even a quickie in his office.

You often talked about kids, how many you’ve wanted, how you speculated on what they’d look like, what they’d become afterwards.

You weren’t a person of words, but of action. you kissed him at least a hundred times more than he did, you held him oh so delicately whenever you could. you were always gentle, soft, comforting for him. I mean, you could be rough when he wanted to, but you preferred a soft and calm relationship.

He...

He didn’t deserve you.

...

In the guest room, you took a look at your phone. This time, the unknown person wrote a message.

‘Why are you still hanging onto that cheating bastard?‘

You smirked. You didn’t really know who that person was, and if you’d sent the wrong text, then they could do whatever they wanted with it. So, you played dumb.

‘I think you are mistaking him with somebody else. He would never do something like that! I know my husband better than anyone else!!‘

The person didn’t take long to send something back. A voicemail? Let’s check if it’s a man or a woman...

“Well sweetie...guess I’ll have to show you myself...meet me at musutafu train station. Next saturday. 4 o’clock. Dress up for me, pretty. A’ight?“, the stranger said, having a voice changer and you couldn’t tell the gender.

Then, the messenger went offline.

You didn’t have time to ask who they were or why they wanted to stop your relationship with Izuku so bad. But, you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts when Izuku knocked on your door. You had to think of something to answer.

SHITSHITSHITSHIT-

“D-darling...?“ He was met with the sound of whimpers and crying. Izuku felt like killing himself.

...

The next few weeks, you felt like shit, but it was because of your pregnancy. luckily, it was summer, then fall, and then winter, so you could put on more and more sweaters or large shirts to hide your growing stomach.

You went to the doctors regularly to get some meds, and when they asked you if Deku knew-you shook your head no with a mischievous smile that they only interpreted as a surprise.

...

Izuku didn’t feel any better. He looked like he hadn’t slept in months, his hair was messier than usual. He had a days-old beard, and if he wouldn’t have cheated on you, you’d latch onto him and fuck him until next week.

The guilt of cheating on you was plaguing his mind so much that he even forgot to eat. He forgot to take care of himself. When he roamed around the city, he didn’t tell the villains to make a better person out of themselves with a smile on his face like he normally would.

No.

He used them as a punching bag and beat them up with a monotone expression. He felt like really committing suicide.

The idea became more and more interesting as he noticed more and more things in his every day life that he didn’t think of before. Once he even drank a little bleach, but he vomitted out his entire dinner that he had with you.

The dinner was a complete disaster.

In that dinner, he tried to try it again, tried to talk with you. He noticed that you were covering up more and more. you also looked a little more chubby to him. You didn’t really eat anything, only looked to the side with your arms crossed.

Also, he couldn’t touch you how he liked anymore.

You didn’t let Izuku touch you because he cheated (but he didn’t know that you knew) on you and also because if he would’ve touched your tummy, he would’ve guessed that you were pregnant right away. Who knows? He might even be relieved that you wanted to hide that surprise from him.

But you didn’t let him come closer to you than arms length. And he was only allowed to hold your arms and hands or your head and face. Not more.

Izuku thought of that distance as your dissapointment towards him. He knew that you didn’t want to make love with him. But he didn’t know for how long. and honestly? It was snapping every single heart string of his.

Maybe he’d get a broken heart syndrome and die already. But his prayers went ignored as time went by.

He felt numb.

Then he went numb. But you didn’t really care. It was his fault, after all.

...

The brown haired woman, Uraraka, has tried to contact him more than a few times everyday, but he blocked her. Izuku felt like a traitor-which he was-but he felt much more than that.

You didn’t deserve such an ungrateful bastard like him. He felt like a whore. He took you for granted. He was fucking another woman behind your back. He was kissing another woman. In another bed.

When you should be in Uraraka’s place. When you should be the one he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. When you should be the one he’d meet at the end of the day. Not her.

Uraraka was the other woman.

But she was a woman who didn’t care if her target was taken or not. She didn’t care that you and Izuku were theoretically inseperable. She tested that theory.

She found out that the theory was wrong. Or only temporary.

She broke a perfect relationship with a devillish smirk.

Uraraka is a bitch.

...

You met up with some music and model agencies. You gave the music agency some of your music for when you were younger. Songs about love. Breakup. First date. Arguments. Everything. Nothing.

They accepted your music. You even gave out your most recent song, but you wanted to sing that one. It was about cheating. About you, Izuku, and the other woman. And you even mentioned your two months old baby in your tummy in it. You’d sing it after your son, daughter or baby would come to the world, not sooner.

if some other person, no matter if man or woman, would sing it, and Izuku would hear the lyrics, then he’d know that it was your song. You loved mistery, but also being simple and obvious. He knew that. so, you’d sing that song and the whole world would know about your and Izuku’s relationship being over before it could actually really blossom.

The head of the music agency was thrilled about your plan and loved it. She even organised a concert for you to sing on. Live. And Izuku would be your guest of honour.

In the model agency, you gave the people some of your old modeling photos. Now you’d be a model for pregnant ladies. They also accepted. But, you insisted on cutting of your face in every pic, but only digitally. When you’d give birth to your child, then could they publish your photos. and Izuku would see how much he’s fucked up.

...

The case was finished. It seemed like the burglar was actually a group of middle school kids that had fusing quirks which they used to form into a thief and steal important or expensive stuff.

After that case, you got another one. You had to find a mysterious person who likes to stalk people. It could be your internet friend who sent you the videos of Izuku and the other woman.

Today was saturday. Time to meet the stranger. You contacted one of your close friends for safety reasons and made your way to the station. Your stomach got heavy with each week passing by. Now, your stomach was a little bigger than a basketball, but you could cover it up perfectly with one of Izuku’s hoodies.

Yes, you still used them. Only to let him think that you still wanted this...whatever it was the two of you had. Now, you passed half of the path you had to take when Izuku called you.

“Hey sweetie, where are you going?“

“Huh?“

“I’m up here.“, he whispered and you looked up. You saw him standing on a low rooftop, gazing down at you with a smile only a real lover could have. Too bad he wasn’t your lover anymore.

But, you noticed his growing beard and hair, his eyes having big, dark circles under his eyes. He also looked like he could eat something. He should eat...

You smiled. “Aren’t you coming down? I don’t feel that safe right now.”, and just after you’ve finished that sentence, he jumped and landed on his feet next to you. He tried to be subtle, but you pretty much aknowledged the pained wince his left eye had when his feet met the ground.

You smiled again. “Thanks.”

You put your mobile away, and took his hand, swinging it around a little. That made Izuku uncomfortable, and you knew that. “N-no problem...where are you going anyways?”, he asked, giving you a curious look.

No need to lie, right? “Well, there’s this person who began texting me, and I thought they’d be a nice friend, so I’d agreed to meet up with them.”

Izuku looked at you for a few seconds before squeezing your hand. “would you like me to come with you?”

Don’t you have other bitches to look at?

“Don’t you have patrol?”, you asked instead, biting your tongue internally. He shrugged, looking at you with a sly smirk. “I can always come a little late.”

‘I can always come a little late.‘, my ass! He probably said that to that other bitch he’s fucking!

You looked at him with a resting bitch face before you looked straight ahead. Your phone began ringing as you went. You stopped in your tracks and took your phone out.

The unknown number. You wrote ‘MY BESTO FRENDO!! <3’ in the contact list so that your poor excuse of a husband wouldn’t suspect a thing. “Oh, ‘my besto friendo?’ Isn’t that from Jujutsu Kai-” “Heyyy~! Where are you?”

Oh. O-okay..

Izuku visibly deflated when you interrupted him by picking up the phone and went ahead and pulled your hand away from him. He felt shitty.

“huh? over there? Ah, I see you, you can stop waving now, hahaha...yeah, okay, I’ll come now! Bye!“, you said after you ended the call. You then looked at the man whom you’d swore to never leave. But you would. In less than a year.

“You can go now, Izuku. I can take care of myself.“ “I can still accompany you-“ “There are your fans, I don’t want them to come closer than they already are. Bye Izu.“

And without smiling at him, giving him a kiss, touching his shoulder, or cheek, you turned around and went into a nice caffee. Izuku lookes after you with a look of longing. He missed you.

With a sigh, he turned towards his eager fans who questioned him about everything that had happened between you two. With each question that involved you - which was every single one the six kids asked him about - he felt more and more like crying, screaming, or throwing himself into a nearby river.

“I-I’m sorry kids, it was nice talking to you...!“, he croaked out before he took off and dissapeared.

...

“Huh, so, you’re the one sending me those videos.“, you mustered the handsome but tired looking male in front of you.

He had nice purple hair, eyebags of tiredness, and a sexy smile.

“Shinsou Hitoshi.“ “Aren’t you an underground hero?“

He looked at you with surprise evident on his face. “How...?”

“You think I don’t know about people like you? I am a detective in that area. I know everybody here. And now tell me; Why did you send me these videos?“

He furrowed his brows. “Do I really need an explanation? You are living together with your CHEATING husband, isn’t that enough?”

You smiled coquettishly at him. “No, why do you think that this is going to change anything?”, you scoffed, ”Do you think I want to leave him?”

He hesitantly nodded, which made you giggle sweetly. “Dear Underground hero, I am not planning on divorcing my husband. He may have had come slip ups there and there, but don’t we all do mistakes sometimes?”

“I...shouldn’t you be hurt by his actions? How can you still be so...carefree?“, he murmured, sizing you up. To him, you looked like a completely normal citizen, but he still questioned your relationship with Izuku.

“Say...are you happy in your relationship?“

If you were taken aback, you didn’t show it. You were a mistress when it came to faking your emotions around other people now. You sighed.

“I wish I was...I am still a little mad at him for spending some nights with another woman, but he promised that he’d never do it again.”, and you had a sad expression on your face, but it was real in this fake relationship.

Shinsou nodded, giving you the illusion of the conversation dying down. But, you were wrong. Deku just had to break your heart more, didn’t he?

“I’m sorry for...putting my nose into your business, but Izuku’s been meeting up with the same woman over and over again until it suddenly stopped.”

You stopped breathing for a second. You don’t have to tell me that, you idiot-

“And I really want to know why-like, don’t get me wrong or something! I am questioning your...husband’s...moves right now.“

“Please, Shinsou. Leave it. Okay? I’ll try and talk to Izuku about it, all right?“, you only answered with a bittersweet smile.

He didn’t look like he’d believe you and you wouldn’t even believe it yourself, but here you were, lying to people who only want the best for you.

“I-just...ugh. Let me tell you, that I will be there for you when you need help, all right? Also, it’d be the best if you’d leave him already.“

You sighed for the last time before standing up, thanking him for the nice time, and walking home, with thinking about how you should approach your nearly final step.

...

“Phew. Onto the next step.“

Carefully, you put out some wine glasses with some bottles of beer and other drunk-making potions for your plan for tonight. Since it was sunday, and you had free for today, it was the perfect chance of taking it into action.

You had prepared some nice dinner, candles and other romantic stuff and with your quirk, making plants, you let plenty of flowers bloom from the walls of your shared house.

“I’m home...“, you heard your “husband’s“ tired voice. He was later than usual and he looked like he’d need a bath-right now. Luckily, you let in a nice warm bath for him with plucked pectorals from some flowers an put them on the nice-with bath bombs and soothing bathing salts filled- bathwater.

Now, as Izuku was stripping down to his underwear, you prepared the most important part: The divorce. You needed his signature, after all.

You then put on his oversized hoodie-an all might themed one, of course- and went over to him, ignoring the stomach ache your growing child gave you. “Hey, Izu.”, you smiled softly at him, spoiling him with your tender, fake love.

He looked at you surprised. “O-oh, hey...”

You giggled. Okay, something’s wrong here. Why were you all happy and shit right now? With him? Even though it was nice to hear your happiness, Midoriya felt like something was completely wrong.

“C’mon, I made dinner, and the bath is also not waiting for you.“, you ushered him into the bathroom, which was lit up by the numerous candles and gave him a nice vibe. He stepped into the bathroom and groaned. His muscles relaxed after what felt like forever and he felt like taking a nap. That was what he was really missing.

Meanwhile, your core still responded to his touch and you cursed your body for still aching after the cheater who was having a good time in the bathtub.

Your hand on his scalp brought him out of his dreamland and he sighed. Still, things were nagging him. “Hey...are we...are we good?”, he asked cautiously, testing the waters with you.

Your smile faded. “I wish we were, Izuku...it’s actually my fault that I neglected you, you know? You’re so busy, with saving everybody...and helping people when they need help...”, you trailed off, talking about all the times you longed for his touch, his voice, his warmth, him.

And with each word falling from your lips, he felt like drowning himself into the bathtub. “I just...I wished we could...you know...try again?”, you asked, a hopefull glimmer in your eyes.

Who was he to deny you.

Who was he to even think about answering that question.

Who did he think he was for even looking you in the face after all the time he has spent countless times in other women’s places, blowing their backs over and over again?

“Yes. Let’s do it.“, he instead answered, a determined expression on his face and you smiled seductively at him. “Okay, Izu. But I am hungry, so we’ll eat first, okay?“

...

“Ya wan’ me dodo *hiccup* wha?“, he only asked, his mind far too gone, but he tried to seem like he’d know what you were talking about.

You held the divorce papers in front of him, smiling devilishly down at him. “It’s so that I can get more money, sweetie...”, you whispered, grinning happily when he signed off without another care.

“averythin’ for’ya, swee...anythin’“, he called, his red face making him drowsy and soon, he fell asleep.

He didn’t even see you taking your clothes and leaving. He didn’t see you putting your wedding- and engaged ring into their respective boxes and placing them on the dinner table, where everything was left the way it was after you two ate and drank. You onlay drank water but he mistook it for whitewine and said cheers before drinking full-on.

He thought about having to become confident before rearranging your gut again, but he never got to do that; with you talking about how you solved the case, your friends having kids, you solving another case and him having to get better at saving people again.

He never got to touch further up your arm than intertwining your and his fingers and gazing into each other lovingly. He never saw you again after he signed the paper. But what was it again?

It was morning as he threw up all the bile from yesterday, even your delicious food, and the expensive liquors. He felt miserable, and when he called for you, you didn’t answer.

As he kept calling your name, he noticed that something was wrong, again. All your belongings were gone. Your clothes, lewelry, but only the ones that you personally owned-not the ones he bought for you. Your shoes, also only from your own credit card, were gone, and so was your entire presence.

Sure, there were still the parfumes and other belongings of yours that Izuku purchased for you, but you? You were nowhere to be seen. Izuku got scared that something might’ve happened to you.

He searched for his phone and found it on the uncleaned dining table. There were two boxes, dangerously equal to the ones where he had his engage and wedding rings in, and to his horror, the rings were inside the boxes.

Underneath was an envelope. He opened it and read a letter which you wrote for him.

“Dear Izuku Midoriya.

Dear Izu, Zuku, Mido, Midori, sweetheart, love, handsome, sweetie, darling.

Dear Deku,

As you might have noticed, I have vanished. Am I going to tell you where? Out of your life! Now, you can fuck as many women as you want.

But-”

Izuku flinched as if he heard you say those words. Your words, and you found out he cheated on you. How long?

He looked down again, and continued.

“But, you’ll surely try and stalk me or investigate where I have gotten off to. Well, spare it. You’ll never find me.

I do have some questions though.

Why did you cheat on me?

Was I not enough? Not sexy enough for you? Not pretty enough for you? Not tidy enough for you?

Too lazy? Too brat-ish? Too much attitude? Not enough confidence? Not enough attention? Not the best looking woman? Not the best cook? Not the best lover?

Tell me. why did you cheat. and why did you stop? Exactly after the night when you fucked me?

Did a lightbulb go on over your head and you thought, ‘wait, I’ve adtually got a spouse, I don’t need a side chick!’?

Whatever your answer might be, it’s over.

that...paper you signed yesterday. It was our devorce. and we are leaving. who do I mean by “we”?

Well, me and my son of five months.

I hope that he’ll never see you and become like you, Izuku Midoriya. I’ll raise him as a real man.

Until never,

Not your lover anymore.”

You were pregnant? A son? And you didn’t tell him, he also doesn’t know where you are.

I mean, sure, he broke you, but you broke him back, you guys are even...right?

As tears ran down his eyes and his sobs echoed in the now empty and cold appartment, void of your nice and warm presence, the pro hero unlocked his phone, only to be bombarded with news and questions from all sides.

Japan news! - Deku’s bride divorced with child, what happened to our sweetest...tip to read more

Kacchan - the fuck did you do?! Your girl left you while pregnant?! Did you cheat on her...tip to read more

Uraraka - Are you okay? should I come come over? We can talk about it if you want...tip to read more

+ Notifications - tip to read more

His phone trembled when he listened to Katsuki screaming his ear off, the news reporting about how you modeled for numerous model companies and released tons of relatable and heart wrenching songs, with an invitation to her freshly divorced ex- Izuku to be a gust at her upcoming concert.

then, he listened to Uraraka’s voice. calming, soothing, comforting.

Bullshit.

He blackmailed Uraraka, blocked her, and then tossed his phone away, thinking about where you might be.

...

It was cold at this hour, but Izuku didn’t want to fakk asleep after two o’clock. You heaved your luggage down the last stairs of the house you’ve lived in for the past few years.

Now, you were ready to leave it all behind.

Shinsou, your chauffeur, packed all the suitcases into the car and let you sit in the passenger seat. Only then he noticed your noticable bulge.

“You-you’re pregnant?!”, he yelled, eyeing you with owlish eyes. You winced from his loud voice and shushed him.

“I fucked him a few months ago and now I’ve got the baby. Now drive me away from this shitty place. Please.“

After some while, you felt Shinsou trying to say something and you sighed before urging him to tell you what’s been on his mind as he drove you into your new house-but...could you even call it a house?

It was...so much more than that. (I’ll explain it later.)

“Well, i think that after you two had sex did he stop meeting that other woman. what was her name again? Uraa- Uraka-“

“Uraraka Ochaco. And you’re the person who’s fitting perfectly in my case. Please, Shinsou, for the love of god. Register yourself and tell your underground-hero friends to to the same or my job will only consist of tracking down my own collegues. You guys are taking that whole “underground-hero” thing way too seriously.“

“A-ah..shit, sorry.“

[to be continued...]

...

HOW DID Y’ALL FIND IT?!

was it angsty enough? Because I am still bad at it I think

please comment on my posts so that I can improve my writing and make better stories in the future...PLEASE!

Taglist: black-bhabie-2000

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murphyoclock · 2 years

Text

Murder For Hire - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part One

Summary: Hired by her cousin Oswald Mosley, (Y/N) has one challenging mission to accomplish: She must kill Thomas Shelby.

"You've done this many times before; why does it feel different this time?“

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

A/N: I'm really excited about this one! However, this story will contain mature content, including: violence, language, misogyny, smut, (mentions of) death, angst, drug and alcohol abuse... basically the whole package PB has to offer lol...MDNI. I'll put specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Please comment, like and reblog, ily! xx

Warnings: language, smoking/ drinking, mentions of death

......................

The cobblestones beneath your feet clatter as you make your way out of Birmingham's train station; looking for the car that's supposed to pick you up. The fog is laying low today, embracing the city in a grey and uninviting hug like you've never seen before. You jump over a large puddle and head towards a dark alley, occasionally making sure no one is following or seeing you. Your ride is parked next to a dimly shining lantern and before you enter the car for good, you take one last look over your shoulder. You aren't necessarily expecting someone to follow you, but being aware of your surroundings is one behavior you've internalized at this point.

"Look who we got here, the infamous (Y/N)," Oswald smiles as you get seated next to him in the car's back, "welcome to Birmingham, the biggest shithole England has to offer."

You ignore his provocative words and place your bag on your lap, pulling out a mirror to check if your lipstick is still in place. Oswald Mosley isn't really the kind of man to welcome someone wholeheartedly, but you for sure don't want to put up with his self-centered sarcastic demeanor. Realizing you aren't in the mood for jokes, he rolls his eyes at your behavior and finally takes your hand to place a welcoming kiss on the back.

"Welcome to Birmingham, (Y/N). I can't believe my favorite cousin's finally here," he tries again, this time sounding less sarcastic than before.

"For someone in desperate need of my help you still sound like an asshole," your words mock.

"For someone supposedly not being interested in fucking Thomas Shelby you do look like it," he laughs, pointing at your outfit and make up.

"Just trying to make a good impression here."

Oswald and you've been in a love-hate relationship ever since you were kids. He wasn't the empathetic older cousin you badly needed back then, but he was the only male cousin that would let you play with the other boys outside. He always accepted the fact that you preferred wrestling in the mud or playing with wooden swords. Sadly, he'd been the only one who accepted you for who you were: a tomboy whose biggest wish it was to become an undercover agent. And when you'd moved to Germany to live with your mother, he made sure to use his political ties to get you the job you'd always dreamed of. So when he contacted you last month and explained he needed help with some pretentious gypsy gangster, you didn't think twice. It's the least you can do.

......

Once you arrive at Oswald's large mansion, he escorts you to the guest room you'll be staying at. You take a deep breath, admiring the space's little details. The walls are painted in your favorite color and the furniture must've been chosen by someone with an eye for antiques (definitely not your cousin).

“(Y/N), darling, I know you’ve been doing this for a while, but I must remind you that Thomas Shelby isn’t your usual target,” Oswald expresses, lighting a cigarette before he speaks again, “that man is some wicked son of a bitch. Not smarter than us, but pretty close. You can’t underestimate him and his animalistic brothers.”

Lighting a cigarette as well, your mind wanders off for a while, thinking about how people literally pay you to seduce and kill men. Some would say you don't have any morals, but the truth is that most of your male victims deserved the fate that was awaiting them and Thomas Shelby will be no different.

“One thing all men have in common, no matter if intelligent or not, is that sooner or later they will start thinking with their dicks instead of their brains,” you smile devilishly, taking a deep drag from your cigarette.

Wrinkling his nose, Oswald warns, “You’re right about that. However, if there's one thing Thomas Shelby loves more than fucking women, it would be fucking money and gaining power. It’ll take a while to get close to him. I just want you to be careful and not too pushy with your intentions.”

"Don't worry," you reply, "now excuse me, I'll need to freshen up a bit."

As you're getting ready for dinner with Thomas Shelby and Oswald, you realize that your cousin hasn't told you much about your target. You're aware that he's involved in many criminal activities and that Oswald doesn't trust him at all. According to Oswald, Mr. Shelby is just pretending to be on his side, waiting for the right moment to bring your cousin's political career to a downfall; but other than that you don't even know how what he looks like or what his own political agenda is about.

You fill a glass with whiskey and down it quickly, trying to shake off the nervousness you're suddenly feeling. You've done this many times before; why does this feel different?

.......

"Why can't I just shoot him at point-blank range or somewhere in the streets?" You ask, sitting down at the massive dinner table.

"No, that's not part of our contract," Oswald sighs in annoyance. "I need you to get as much information as possible from him. Just stick to our plan. Once I'm happy with your results, you can do whatever you want with him, darling. But make it painful, please."

Your giggles at the macabre comment are interrupted when the dining room's door is opened and a man in his late 30s, maybe early 40s, enters the room.

"Good evening, Mr. Mosley, Mrs. (Y/L/N)," the handsome man remarks with no emotion in his deep voice, heading right for his seat.

He sits down right across from you, immediately grabbing a glass to pour himself some whiskey. Then, he lights a cigarette and leans back in his chair, staring directly at you.

A clump forms in your throat as his mesmerizing blue eyes observe every little move you make, his overpowering energy causing you to feel as vulnerable as never before.

“Mr. Shelby, may I introduce you to my cousin (Y/N). She works in Germany and has great ties to the Führer himself,” Oswald speaks proudly, finally breaking the weird moment between you and Tommy.

"Yes, I remember you telling me about her. Welcome to Birmingham, Mrs. (Y/L/N)," he answers, almost chuckling at your clearly overwhelmed expression. "Have you seen a ghost on your way here?", he adds with a cheeky smile.

"Kind of," you smile innocently, blushing when your eyes meet again.

"Anyways...," Oswald interrupts, giving you a stern look. "We're here to talk business, am I right, Mr. Shelby?"

While Tommy and Oswald are getting lost in their business talk, you take the chance to admire the man you just met. Tommy doesn't look anything like a random street gangster, but rather like a well-dressed businessman who knows how to use his body language to his advantage. All you know is that he's by far the most attractive man you've ever laid eyes on. He intrigues you just by giving you a quick look. Oh boy, he could make me do anything, you think to yourself before snapping back into reality.

"I need to excuse myself for a second," Oswald stands up and clears his throat, letting you know that it's your time to talk to Thomas.

.....

"I'm sorry my cousin is such an unbearable asshole, Mr. Shelby," you mumble, anxiously emptying your whole glass of champagne. You glance at Tommy and wonder if your acting skills will be enough for tonight. It definitely would be easier, if he wasn't this attractive.

"Well, (Y/N), it's business. We don't always get to choose who we're doing business with, eh?" He chuckles, placing his elbows on the table so he can rest his face in his hands. Fuck is he cute.

The heat between your legs seems to intensify with every word he speaks. You desperately try to focus on the mission Oswald has hired you for. After all, you're a fucking professional.

"Mr. Shelby", you almost whisper, "I'm actually not really interested in my cousin's business and political aspirations. I also don't have ties to the Führer. I work as an agent for the socialist party in Germany. It has come to our attention that the communist party has been planning a coup. It is in our sincere interest to possibly support it."

Your hands start sweating immensely as the lies leave your mouth. You've done this many times before: lied, seduced men, and then killed them, but for whatever reason lying to Thomas Shelby just feels different. His facial expression doesn't give you a single hint at what he's possibly thinking; which doesn't calm your nerves at all.

Tommy glares at you, not losing eye contact as he lights another cigarette. He rubs his chin, trying to analyze the situation.

"Why would Oswald Mosley's favorite cousin go behind his back then?", he asks with both eyebrows raised at you.

"It's only business," I smile, "We don't get to choose who's family and who's not."

Thomas smirks at your witty response. Not only does he find you attractive but also smart and mysterious. However, that doesn't stop him from being cautious though.

“I’m not sure about the coup, Mrs. (Y/L/N) but I do have ties to the communist party. Your cousin knows I work as a middleman between the fascists and communists. If you’d like, I could arrange a meeting at my pub.”

"At your pub? Do I get drinks on the house?" I flirt shyly.

A big grin appears on his beautiful face. "Sure, anything that pleases you."

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #Thomas Shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #Thomas Shelby angst #Tommy Shelby smut #peaky blinders smut

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atiny-piratequeen · 10 months

Text

𝓕𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓦𝓪𝔂 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓒𝓱. 𝟑 (𝓟𝓽.𝟏)

𓆩⟡𓆪Summary: Wooyoung is a culinary student and he and two of his best friends have been brought along to Namhae to learn and study the farmers out in the countryside and disconnect a bit. Reluctant at first, he just wishes he could've been back in the city and close to his long-time crush Yeosang. Things change when he lays his eyes on the dimpled country boy staying with them that show them around and teach them more about Namhae's way of life, all with a spine-tingling Satoori.

Maybe things aren't so bad out here in the sticks, after all.

𓆩⟡𓆪Pairing: WooSan + Endgame WooSanSang

𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Non-Idolverse, Fluff, Romance, Humor, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fish Out Of Water Tropes, Au, Mutual Pining, Country Boy San, Culinary Student Wooyoung, Poly Endgame

𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing, Miscommunications, Jealousy, Mentions of Homophobia, Light Instances of Unwanted Advances (from non mcs)

𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: Wet Dreams, Threesomes, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Risky Sex, Biting, Scenting, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Creampie, Cock Sharing, Dirty Talk, Bareback Sex, Riding, Doggystyle, Cum Swallowing

𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)

𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 21k

𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: This is the first of two parts of the final chapter of @schone-lie's commission! Thank you so much my dear and Thank you everyone who has enjoyed this little series. Tumblr did not like that the original document for this was 37k words long. I had to split it up into two parts, but the archive link has the entire chapter all in one. I worked very hard on this, especially given the wait between posting so...If you like it, please make sure to reblog it as well, so that other folks may see my works come across their respective dashes, too. Have a good time zone~

𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld | @kdiarynet | @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (Pt. 2)

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Yeosang snapped out of his daze when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back, smiling at Yeji as she quietly observed him. She and the others had returned a few days ago, clearly enjoying their time reunited with their significant others, if the fresh marks on her neck were anything to go by.

He forced a smile and opened his mouth and she narrowed her gaze suspiciously. He caught the look and lowered his shoulders, rubbing his neck.

“It hurts like a bitch. But it's alright. That’s just how things are. As long as Woo is still in my life, that’s all I care about.”

Her eyes softened and she gently rubbed his back, frowning.

“Do you think…?” He began a sentence and then paused, brows furrowing. Did he want to know the answer? She waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts and his words before he ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back before they fell back into place.

“Do you think he’s happy?” He questioned quietly, thumbing the book in his hands. She looked at him, her heartbreaking gently as she took in the expression on his face.

He…really loved Wooyoung. Just, not enough to put their friendship at risk and potentially lose him forever.

She considered not answering him, but instead, she gently nodded, rubbing his back when she saw him take a shaky breath before exhaling.

“Good. He deserves it.” He squared his shoulders and picked up the other books on the table before them, turning away from him. Yeji’s eyes followed him as he began to walk down the aisle of the bookstore he part-timed in on days he didn’t have school or his training classes.

“He comes home in a month. What will you do then?” She inquired. Yeosang gently slid the books back into their places and turned to her, a soft smile stretching across his lips. His eyes didn’t mirror them, but she didn’t call him on it this time.

“I’ll do what I always do. No matter what, I’m always going to love him and he will always be my best friend as long as he still wants to be. I don’t need to do anything unnecessary to jeopardize that.” His words hung in the air between them before he rolled his neck and found other ways to busy himself.

Yeji sighed and began helping him out, cracking jokes here and there until she could see him smile.

《☆》★《☆》★《☆》★《☆》★《☆》

When San stepped foot into his home that day, he noticed a distinct lack of his favorite (and only) three siblings running up to greet him. He frowned, his shirt splotched in dirt and sweat from the day. It had rained before and he’d taken a fall or two while out in the field.

That's beside the point, though.

“Gahyeon? Eric? Jongho?” He called into the home and heard the sound of screaming and the pitter-patter of feet rushing toward him.

Gahyeon appeared first, her face flushed as she stormed into his space with her hands on her hips.

“Oppa! Wooyoung can’t leave! He has to stay and marry you!” She huffed. San blinked and looked over her shoulder, finding Wooyoung kneeling, cooing to Eric and Jongho as both toddlers threw tantrums.

“If you go away, Hyung is gonna get sad!” Eric protested. Jongho sniffled and held out the chunky dragon plushie in his hands.

“I-I’ll give you Mingi, please don’t go? Hyung doesn’t go to the city, he’s gonna get sad and cry.” His hands shook as Wooyoung gently pet his head, brows pulled up.

“I’m sorry, Jongho. I have to go home but that’s not for another month. I can’t take Mingi from you.” He gently declined. Jongho’s lip wobbled and he held up his plushie higher.

“Take Mingi. And stay, please.” He tried again. Wooyoung looked distraught until a calloused, yet gentle hand landed on his shoulder, drawing the eyes of the two boys.

“That’s not nice, boys. You can’t force someone to do something like that.” He gently scolded before meeting Wooyoung’s eyes.

He looked torn.

San chuckled, kneeling beside him and kissing his nose until he scrunched it up.

“Just trust your big brother, it’s going to be okay.” San reassured. Wooyoung blinked at him before something seemed to click in his brain, his lips parting as an excited look sparked in his eyes.

Gahyeon looked between them before turning to her brothers and smiling.

“Okay, Oppa said it’s going to be okay and Oppa doesn’t lie. We have to find Mama and Papa and see if they wanna watch Pororo with us!” She pointed proudly down the hall and her brothers perked. Eric bounded down the hall and Jongho trailed slightly behind him before looking back at the men, hugging his stuffed animal close to his chest.

“I think…I think Hyungs look happy and should stay together…yeah.” He nodded and toddled down the hall, his bare feet slapping against the tile as his bangs bounced with every step.

Wooyoung watched them go, his shoulders relaxing before he glanced at San. The slightly older man hummed before putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up to stand.

“Wanna go on a walk?” He inquired. Wooyoung looked at his hand as he extended and nodded, rising to his feet and following San.

They walked in silence for a while, though neither of them seemed like they were in a rush to break it. Wooyoung glanced to his left and reached to hold San’s hand, smiling when he felt his fingers lace between his without hesitation.

By the time they finished walking, San had led him to a railing that overlooked the lower level of the village. Night had begun to fall. San leaned on the railing, the wind sweeping his bangs as Wooyoung stood beside him, staring out at the town.

“I wanted to clear my head.”

Wooyoung looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Did the little ones upset you?”

“Not at all. I knew the night you asked me, I’d happily leave this place behind for you.”

Wooyoung’s lips parted in shock. San smiled softly, a fond half-lidded look in his eyes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been up here.”

It seemed like a change of the subject, but Wooyoung liked to think he’d gotten very good at reading San’s body language during their time together, so instead of addressing the first part of their interaction, he put his hand at the small of San’s back, gently rubbing.

Waiting.

San exhaled after a long beat of silence.

“When I was rejected at the festival by the boy I had a crush on, he told me to meet him here a few days later. I never skipped school or anything because of it, but he made a point to slip a note in my desk and ask me to meet him here.” San, rolled his shoulders before standing straighter, his eyes staring out but not focused on anything in particular.

“He told me I was a freak. Asked me why wasn’t I ashamed. A man with another man? What was wrong with me? He told me I didn’t belong here in Namhae.”

Wooyoung’s fingers tensed along his back and San let out a humorless chuckle.

"Ever since that day, this hasn’t felt like home. Once I step foot out of Chae-noona and GD-hyung’s home, I’m an alien alone in a foreign planet.” He drummed his fingers against the pole of the railing and then turned to Wooyoung. He slowly pivoted on his heel, turning his back on Namhae and instead facing Wooyoung completely, holding his hands in his own.

“Then you all came. And I wasn’t looked at weirdly, even after you found out about me.” he continued. Wooyoung didn’t interrupt him, gently rubbing his knuckles as he talked.

Of course, he wouldn’t treat him differently. None of them would. They understood the hardships well.

“When you asked me if I’d come to the city with you with that bet, I already knew my answer. Wooyoung,"

San pressed their heads together, staring into his eyes. Wooyoung let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I think anywhere you are will feel like home to me. If the offer is still on the table, can I live with you back in the city?"

Wooyoung smiled, kissing San as if he was the only person in the world. San smiled and held him close, unbothered by being out and in the open.

Wooyoung laughed in disbelief when they pulled away from one another, wiping his eyes of tears he wasn’t aware he’d shed.

“Of course, the offer is on. Are you sure ? I won’t take any offense if you decide to wait for a bit longer or-”

“Wooyoung. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

San put their heads together, gently rubbing Wooyoung’s cheeks and tilting his head. Wooyoung held his gaze and then pulled him in for a hug, pressing a prolonged kiss to his cheek, right on his dimple.

“You have no idea how giddy I feel right now. I feel like I’m in one of those romance novels or something.” He sniffled. San kissed his head and held him close, tucking him in his arms.

“I think I have an idea. I feel the same.” He whispered into his hair. He looked down at the village as the streetlights turned on and the sun began to set. His apprehension was gone and the fear he had of the great unknown of the city was replaced with an excitement that shook him to his very core.

“I think we should celebrate,” San suggested, holding Wooyoung’s hand without a care in the world as they slowly made their way back to the house. Wooyoung nodded with his head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand.

“How about we make that dish your grandparents used to make? I memorized the recipe and taste when you made it for me.” He offered back. San smiled at him and nodded, unlocking and opening the door.

Three, small heads peeked around the doorframe of the kitchen and three sets of boba-shaped eyes locked onto the two and the honeymoon-worthy smiles on their faces.

“Operation: ‘ Get Wooyoungie Oppa to marry Sannie Oppa’ is a success,” Gahyeon whispered. Eric squinted, tilting his head.

“But they don’t gots the ring like Eomma and Appa do.” He muttered back. Jongho squeezed his dragon plushie and gathered his courage, waddling out of his not-so-subtle hiding place and heading over to the two men as they toed off their shoes.

“-I’ll mince the garlic and you can start prepping the breadcrumbs-Oh hi Jjongie.” San smiled down at his brother and Jongho looked at the two of them with wide eyes full of wonder.

“....Hi hyung.” He wanted to say more, but found his voice failing.

San knew his siblings well, and bent down, picking Jongho up before kissing his cheek.

“Wooyoung-ah is going to be here in Namhae for a few more weeks, Jjongie. Will you help us pack when its time for us to go back to the city?” He inquired. Jongho looked at him, almost seemed upset for a moment before he blinked.

“Us? Both of you?”

San simply smiled, bouncing the toddler on his hip.

“I don’t wanna make Mingi sad, right?” He grinned.

Realization crossed Jongho, Eric, and Gahyeon’s faces, and instantly all three children burst into tears.

Chaerin came running at the sound of her babies crying, stopping short when she found the trio tightly holding onto both San and Wooyoung, bouncing excitedly.

“Will you let us visit? Can we come over?” Jongho questioned excitedly, talking even though San tried to wipe the tears from his cherub cheeks.

“Are you gonna get a race car bed? Do they make race car beds for big kids like you hyungs? WAIT! Hyung!!!! Do you have a race car in the city?!” Eric gasped, pointing at Wooyoung and catching the Oreo-haired man off guard.

Gahyeon twirled and bounced around them, her ponytail swinging as she hummed the infamous fanfare for marriage ceremonies.

“Oppa’s gonna get married~ Oppa’s marrying Oppa~ Oppa’s marrying Oppa, and I’m gonna bring flow-ers!” She sung to the beat. Cherin’s shoulders relaxed as she looked over at the men, finding San and Wooyoung smiling from ear to ear as they humored the energetic children.

“I guess their night walk went well.” her husband’s voice came from behind her as Jiyong placed a hand at the small of her back. She crossed her arms and watched them a bit longer.

“I guess it did. It’s about time he got the hell out of Namhae.” She nodded in approval, looking over to Wooyoung.

“I just hope wherever he goes, he’s happy. He won’t be too far from us, anyway. C’mon, my little rascals. You need to tell us what you three want to be for Halloween so we can start buying the fabric.” She turned and pulled him away, letting the new couple entertain the excited children.

After dinner and washing up, San and Wooyoung found themselves curled up on the couch in the living room. Jongho, Eric, and Gahyeon slept soundly sprawled out in their laps while Changbin watched the screen with rapt attention. Yeonjun played a game on his phone, the screen illuminating his face as his half lidded gaze looked it from top to bottom.

San looked at Wooyoung out of the corner of his vision, his gaze softening as he took in the city man’s kind gaze. He ran his hand through Gahyeon’s hair, adjusted Eric’s arm so he wouldn’t hurt it with his position, and pressed Jongho’s dragon plushie into his arms before he settled himself.

In the calmness of the living room, San felt a smile come to his face.

He’d known he’d made the right decision.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

August 30th

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Okay, do you have all of your things? We can go back and check the house and-”

“Noona-”

“What about your new bank card? Do you have your new bank card? Ji, did you give him his card? He can’t buy anything without-”

“Noona-”

“Oh wait, hold on, I have a basket with some goodies coming, let me just double-check the address-”

“Mom!”

Chaerin paused in her fretting, looking at her eldest ‘son’ as he stood before her, his bookbag tossed over his shoulder and a teary smile on his face. She bit her lip and stood straight, collecting herself as she met San’s gaze.

“I’m going to be okay, Noo-mom. Mom . We don’t live too far from here. If I need anything or missed anything, I’ll call. Besides, it’s not like I'm going anywhere drastically different. I’m going to help out in the restaurant with Kibum hyung.”

Chaerin cupped his face and smiled softly.

“You know, that’s the first time you haven't corrected yourself when you’ve called me Mom. Not Noona, not Miss Chae. Mom.”

San blushed and kissed her cheek, patting her hands.

“You’ve been nothing less than that since you took me in. It’s long overdue.” He whispered as she fixed his magenta bangs.

“Go on. You still have a lot of unpacking to do.” She shooed him off, hugging herself as he waved and jogged back to the car waiting for him on the curb.

Wooyoung bent down until she could see him, sending her a million-dollar smile as he waved at her.

“I’ll take care of him, Noona!”

“You better, if you don’t want my foot up your ass, Jung Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung laughed nervously as San got in the car, taking his hand in his as the Namhae native waved one last time. Wooyoung pulled off, rubbing San’s knuckles as he drove, unable to wipe the smile off of his face.

“I called everyone over to help us unpack. Did you want to stop off and get breakfast first?” Wooyoung inquired after twenty minutes of navigating through the city traffic. San looked around the city with eyes filled with wonder.

“....Maybe some other time. I think it would be nice for me to meet up with everyone and thank them properly for welcoming me….Oh, unless I should get gifts. Hell, I didn’t even think of that-” San began to fret as Wooyoung laughed, turning down a street and watching him out of the corner of his vision.

“I don’t think that’s usually the order of operations, my love. You can give them thank you gifts after you’re settled in.” He told him. San pursed his lips, leg bouncing.

“Are you sure? I want to make a good first impression with the lot of them.” He sighed, sitting back and watching the houses as Wooyoung drove past them.

“What’s not to love about you? Plus, everyone’s heard nice things about you from me and the others already, there’s no need to be worried. You have met most of them already.” Wooyoung cheerily told him. San smiled and rubbed his sweaty palms against his pants.

Right, he hadn’t done anything to make anyone dislike him.

He had a nagging, persistent feeling like he had forgotten something, though.

It was replaced with an overarching sense of anxiety when he noticed Wooyoung pulling into a home where several cars had already been lined up outside of.

The front door opened before he could even put the car in park and a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

Yeji smiled from ear to ear as she locked eyes with the men.

“You were late, so we helped ourselves inside!” she answered the unasked question and put her hands on her hips, looking over at the two of them with a smile on her face.

San stepped out first, his hair lightened over the past month to a soft bubble gum pink.

“Sorry, my mom was fretting and-”

“Oh, don’t apologize. We all know what it’s like to leave the nest the first time. I hope Chaerin-noona is doing well.” Changbin said from the door, stepping out into the warm August sun with the others.

Wooyoung popped his head out of the car, scanning the group before some sort of realization hit him and his smile slightly faltered.

“Where’s Yeosang?” He inquired. Soobin and Yeonjun exchanged a look before Yeonjun piped up, crossing his arms.

“He said things were a bit backed up with the training, so he wouldn’t be able to make it today. Something about there being an influx of new training classes for him to lead and another trainer being on maternity leave.” He told them, shrugging. Yeji sighed quietly, but didn’t say a word.

San couldn’t see Wooyoung’s face, exactly, but he was certain the news wasn’t very favorable to him given the subtle change in his tone when he replied with a simple; ‘Oh, really? That’s too bad, then.’

Chan came around the side of the car and greeted San with a fist bump as he popped open the trunk to Wooyoung’s car.

“We’ve already unloaded the desk and the dressers from the moving van that came by earlier. You don’t have very many items, do you?” He questioned, changing the subject and picking up two suitcases in an instant. San barely had the time to offer help before Chan was marching up the driveway.

“I didn’t wanna take up too much space in Woo’s home. Namhae doesn’t really have a shopping district like this place where you can get all kinds of things and I don’t have like, a huge wardrobe of clothes and such.” San admitted, waiting for Wooyoung to exit the car before the two of them grabbed the last few armfuls of boxes and headed inside.

“It’s your home too, now. I say the first big paycheck you get from working in the restaurant, we go on a big shopping spree for you.” Wooyoung grinned, the bounce back in his voice and step as he lead the way back inside. San laughed, happy the hiccup in his mood didn’t persist longer than a few moments.

“I’m not sure about that, but for now let’s just get settled in. I wanna make everyone a big, hearty Namhae dinner as a thank you for helpin us out.” San muttered. The moment he stepped into the home, the scent of cooking food hit him full force.

“Oh please, did you think we were gonna let you come home on an empty stomach? You can cook some other time. Get settled in, take some time to yourselves and go put your clothes away.” Yeonjun pointed to the stairs and San smiled, taking one of suitcases out of Chan’s arms, while Wooyoung grabbed the other.

When San first stepped foot into what was to be his and Wooyoung’s new shared room, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was so overwhelmingly Wooyoung that he needed a moment to let it sink in.

He was here. This was his home.

Wooyoung rustled about behind him for a few seconds before he felt his arms wrap around his frame, his breath fanning over the back of San’s neck.

He shuddered and leaned against Wooyoung, playing with his hands where they stayed around his waist.

“You did it.” Wooyoung whispered, his lips making the hair at the nape of San’s neck stand on end. San simply purred in response, squeezing Wooyoung’s hands.

“We did it. I wouldn’t have made that step without you.” He admitted, turning in Wooyoung’s arms and draping his arms over his neck. Wooyoung smiled, looking up at nothing in particular.

“I know, I am pretty damn convincing, aren’t I?” He teased. San rolled his eyes and kissed him, bringing the room into a comfortable stillness.

When they broke from each other, Wooyoung ran his hands lower, lightly squeezing his ass.

“We could make the room more ours, if you were feeling daring.” He smiled lazily and San felt heat rise to the tips of his ears.

“Your friends are all downstairs.”

“ Our friends can busy themselves, they do it all the time. Is that a no? Because we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

San looked at the door behind him for a moment before looking back at Wooyoung.

“Nothing that’s too much, I don’t want them knowing.” He cleared his throat and Wooyoung sent him a devilish smile.

“It’s fine. I can find a way to keep you quiet.”

Wooyoung was nothing if not a man of his word.

That’s how San found his head hanging upside down from the edge of the bed, his mouth occupied with Wooyoung’s cock as he slowly rolled his hips. Despite the occasional gag when Wooyoung hit the back of his throat, San was proud of the fact he could take him completely, his arms woven around Wooyoung’s thighs.

Wooyoung’s hands had been splayed across his own thighs, kneading and massaging as he placed contrasting kitten licks and kisses to San’s cock, smiling at the near-desperate way his boyfriend lifted his hips in anticipation.

“You gotta be still~” Wooyoung whispered along his heated skin, licking up a pearl of precum that beaded at the head of San’s cock.

San whined in frustration below him, but swallowed sharply when he felt himself being enveloped with the heat of Wooyoung’s mouth.

Predictably, his hips kicked up at the sudden change, but Wooyoung pushed down on his thighs, surprisingly stronger than before thanks to his time helping out on the farm.

San’s eyes fluttered, trying to keep his noises down as Wooyoung bobbed his head, his hands trailing up San’s thighs as he worked his hips, gradually thrusting faster into San’s mouth.

‘Oh so he can thrust but I can’t?’ San pouted mentally, though his cock throbbed at the treatment, squeezing Wooyoung’s thighs in encouragement.

Wooyoung smirked around his cock, tilting his head and deepthroating him without a single gag, moaning and purring around San.

The muffled moan that had brought forward made Wooyoung lift his head, laughing softly as he stroked San’s cock.

“You gotta keep it down, my love. Who knows who could hear us if you can’t.” He purred. San had half a mind to half-heartedly pinch his thigh at the teasing, but he heard a cap open somewhere between his legs and perked.

“Remember, Sannie. Keep it down for me.” Wooyoung urged, squiring lube into his hand and licking up the length of San’s cock once more. San’s thighs flexed when he felt Wooyoung swallow him down once more, cool fingers rolling against his rim teasingly.

San would be lying if he said the action didn’t make his heart rate increase.

He was the quieter of the two of them, that much was for sure, but the looming possibility of them being found out, even if it was just through the door, made him excited in a way he couldn’t describe.

San was convinced this city boy currently using his mouth and playing with his ass and cock had corrupted him in more ways than one, but there was honestly no place in the world he’d rather be than right here in this moment.

The pink haired man gently moved his roughened hands up to Wooyoung’s ass, encouraging him to thrust faster as his legs subtly inched further apart, welcoming his fingers deeper.

He was met with a purr of approval and Wooyoung curling his fingers ever so slightly inside of him. San swallowed sharply, eyes rolling back as Wooyoung began massaging his prostate with two persistent fingers.

“M-mmfnn- mmnnn-”

Wooyoung held himself down on San’s cock, letting him buck his hips freely as he alternated his fingers between stretching him and toying with his prostate. He was careful not to put his full weight on San as he felt himself getting closer to his climax.

The two came only a minute or so apart from one another, and Wooyoung was careful when he pulled away, immediately kneeling to check on San as the man panted, a dazed expression on his face.

“You alright, baby?” Wooyoung inquired, helping him right himself from the upside-down position. San nodded, drool making a mess of his lips. Wooyoung grinned and placed a messy kiss to his lips before pressing their foreheads together.

“ Welcome home. ” He purred. San smiled at him, opening his mouth to respond before a voice startled both of them.

“HEY! YOU TWO BETTER NOT BE FUCKIN WHILE WE’RE HERE! THE FOOD’S DONE, GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE!” Yeonjun called up to them from the bottom of the staircase.

San blushed and haphazardly wiped his messy face with his own shirt while Wooyoung stomped to the door, opening it and calling down to him.

“NO ONE IS FUCKING, WE SAID WE’RE GONNA PUT SOME STUFF AWAY.”

“IT’S BEEN AN HOUR, ASSHOLE.”

“DON’T RUSH US, JACKASS.”

The two bickered and San laughed behind his hand.

Yeah, he was certainly in his new home.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

September 1st

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“San moved into the house yesterday, by the way.” Chan brought up casually. The sound of feet running on a belt beside him continued, pounding away.

“Is that so? That’s good. Glad it went well.”

“Wooyoung was looking for you.” He continued, eyes watching carefully.

He was met with nothing more than the sound of those feet on the treadmill, running. He sighed softly, watching Yeosang run beside him.

“Yeji said something about you having more classes?””

“Something like that.” Was the brisk response, followed by the beeping of the treadmill being turned up a few more speeds.

“We’re all trying to set up a big dinner or something soon.” He carefully brought up. Yeosang kept his gaze fixed on the wall across from them in the gym, bangs bouncing as he ran. It took him much longer than usual to give him a response.

“I’m really busy. It may be better to go ahead without me for a bit.”

Ah, so that was what was going on.

“Yeosang, are you avoiding going anywhere near Wooyoung?”

Yeosang cut him a glance before looking forward again.

“I just need some time to collect myself. It’s not fair to him or his boyfriend to have me be…like this around them”

Chan sent him a sympathetic look. It had been over a month but the news of Wooyoung not only finding a boyfriend in Namhae for his studies and then bringing said man home to live with had clearly hurt Yeosang more than he originally let on.

“Do you want some company? I can set up something, just us, Yeji, and Binnie?”

Yeosang shook his head, sweat rolling down his brow as he carefully turned the treadmill down, slowing to a stop, putting his hand on his hips as he panted harshly.

“There’s no need to do that. You guys go, have fun. I’m going to be busy with work, anyway.” He sent Chan a smile that was as fake as they came, walking past him after he’d hopped off of the machine.

Chan watched him go and sighed, lips pursed.

He hated seeing his friend like this, but he had no idea where to start. Heartbreak was one of the trickiest things to heal from.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

September 13th

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

San had expected working in the kitchen in Kibum’s restaurant to be one of the most daunting things he’d ever have to do.

After all, a fancy restaurant full of students who spent their college years to get here, now having some country bumpkin come along and encroach on their territory? He thought he’d get eaten alive-

Instead, he was adored as soon as he’d walked through the door.

“San, can you accompany Jiwoo outside? This is for table number three and there’s a full party.”

“One of the waiters called out, San, do you mind helping on the floor?”

“San, do you have any suggestions for a new menu option? We’re workshopping a rotation of some dishes to change things up.”

San wasn’t a religious man, but in these moments, he couldn’t help but to feel blessed. He’d found somewhere he’d fitten in and was not only useful, but able to still be who he wanted to be.

“Hey,” Wooyoung snuck a kiss as he passed him, an armful of freshly washed vegetables in his possession before he rushed to the other side of the kitchen to prep them.

All of this, while working alongside the man he loved. What else could he ask for? What else could he need?

The cool September air helped him clear his head as he walked, pushing a cart of supplies toward the restaurant.

“I should visit mom and tell her about things once we’re done today.” He mused before he heard the sound of wheels on concrete.

They're going…rather fast, huh?

He turned his head to the right, blinking as he watched a man come skateboarding down the block with a giant dog on a leash in front of him.

San was startled. The dog looked huge , like a bear. Without thinking, he pushed the cart faster and swiveled it off to the side, eyes wide as he watched the dog barrel towards him.

“Yunho, heel.”

The dog stopped in an instant, sitting politely with his tongue out, staring at San from beneath a mass of hair as the man on the skateboarding man skid to a halt just shy of colliding with the cart.

San held his chest, looking at the man in surprise.

Oh, he was…well, he was rather attractive , wasn't he?

San felt a panic rise in his chest at the passing thought, unable to speak first. Thankfully, the man did it first

“Are you okay?” he inquired, glancing back and forth between him and the giant bear of a dog looking at him curiously.

At least, he thought he was. He couldn’t exactly see his eyes.

“I’m fine. Sorry about that. Normally there aren’t many people out on this street so late at night. Did anything fall? Are you alright?” the man inquired, looking at the cart San had yanked aside. San looked down, swearing when he saw he’d flung off some of the delicate items sitting at the very top of the cart off with his hurried movements.

“Shit, Kibum-hyung is gonna be pissed.” He ran a hand through his freshly dyed black hair. There was a small look of surprise on the other man’s face before he cleared his throat and knelt down to pick up some of the ingredients. San looked at his side profile, watching as he sighed quietly.

“I’ll go and apologize properly. We were being reckless.” he ignored the confused and concerned noises coming from San’s lips, looking at the dog and offering his skateboard.

“Yunho, hold.”

Yunho took the board carefully in his mouth, standing and following the man as he walked towards the restaurant. San frowned and gathered his bearings, following him from a decent distance so he didn’t accidentally hit the man or the dog.

Something about him was oddly familiar.

“Excuse me, you don’t have to do that, I was the one who dropped it.”

“I was the one that startled you. I’m responsible for this, too. I’ll just apologize so you don’t get in trouble.”

San began chattering in a panic, but the man with the fluffy black hair didn’t respond to him, knocking on the back door of the restaurant. San pursed his lips. He hadn’t gotten much of a look at the man’s face, maybe he was a worker he had yet to meet? He was awfully familiar, though.

“Hm? San, are you back-Yeosang?” Wooyoung looked up in surprise and San felt that last puzzle piece click into place.

So that’s what was so familiar.

“I knocked over some of these. Ask Hyung to send me the bill, it’s not San’s fault it fell.” He told Wooyoung. The slightly shorter man narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger in his direction.

“Where the hell have you been?” He completely ignored the sentence, huffing at him. Yeosang looked at Yunho, seemingly giving him a command with a gesture of his hand before he stepped inside and placed the destroyed ingredients on the floor. Yunho patiently waited outside, sitting politely with his tail wagging to and fro.

Wooyoung followed Yeosang’s every step with his eyes until finally, the older man spoke.

“Working.” Was the simple response. Wooyoung narrowed his gaze.

“Every day for nearly two weeks since I’ve come home?”

“Yes.”

“Yah! Kang Yeosang, are you out of your damn mind?!”

The two bickered, with Yeosang’s voice calm while Wooyoung wore his displeasure on his sleeve. San glanced back and forth between them, unsure if he could (or should) interrupt their squabbling.

“You could’ve stopped by and said hi or something once you got off!”

At that, Yeosang finally broke eye contact, pressing his lips together before he sighed.

“.....You’re right, I’m sorry. I figured I would be bothering you so late.”

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he took a look at the man, gasping and cupping his cheeks, yanking him down. Yeosang hardly blinked, though a small, tired smile came to his face.

He was used to Wooyoung’s over the top fretting.

“Your eyes have bags under them, are you not sleeping?!”

“I’m fine, Wooyoung.”

“You are not, I’m gonna kick your ass, you’re gonna make yourself sick again. Do I have to come over and take care of you again like last time?” Wooyoung half-heartedly glared into his eyes. There was something…sad in Yeosang’s eyes for a moment before he gently took Wooyoung’s hands off his face. He gently set them at his side and sent Wooyoung a tired smile.

“I appreciate you. But it’s alright. It’s a busy patch at work and then once it passes, I can take a vacation or something.”

Wooyoung furrowed his brow in worry. Yeosang never did so unless someone forced him to. The man was practically allergic to taking time off. Finally, San found his voice from beside them.

“How about you come over for dinner?”

Both of them turned their heads over to look at him, Yeosang met his eyes and then glanced away, all while Wooyoung’s eyes lit up as he perked.

“That’s a great idea!” Wooyoung cheered, hooking an arm into a startled Yeosang’s.

That’s how they ended up here, hours later, with Yunho pressed against Yeosang’s side, licking his jowels as he waited for Wooyoung to fish out the extra bowl he kept in his house for the hound’s visits.

San came up to them, softly smiling at the man he’d only heard about through the others. Yeosang turned his gaze from Wooyoung and looked at him as San bowed slightly in greeting.

“Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. My name’s Choi San.”

Yeosang bowed back, running his hand through the fur at the top of Yunho’s head to busy at least one of his subtly shaking hands.

“Kang Yeosang. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

There was a silence that hung in the air, something unsaid hanging in the air after the end of the sentence and San wondered if he’d left a bad impression on the man.

If so, he didn’t mean to! From what San could gather, Yeosang is Wooyoung’s closest friend, and the two had been attached at the hip since elementary school. The whole reason Wooyoung had moved into this particular city was to keep close to Yeosang, after all.

San reckoned this was around the moment some people would try to size up the ‘competition’ or something of the sort. Yeosang was Wooyoung’s first love, San knew this well.

And here he is, standing in front of his current love and boyfriend.

San still felt this odd, mystified feeling looking at the quiet dog trainer. It was familiar, yet foreign, and San combed through himself to see if he could pin down exactly what that emotion was.

“I got it!” Wooyoung cheered, startling him out of his thoughts as he victoriously knelt on the counter. At some point, while they were talking, he must have jumped up onto it to reach a dog bowl with Yunho’s name engraved on it. He wobbled ever so slightly as he attempted to move into a more neutral position.

San startled, jerking to attention.

“Wooyoung, get down!” He moved towards him as Wooyoung tried to dismount himself but Yeosang let out an exasperated sigh and picked him clean up, holding him bridal style with an unimpressed look on his face.

"Now, if you crack your ass on the floor and I laugh at you, I'm in the wrong, hm?"

Wooyoung seemed perfectly comfortable, deadweighting in Yeosang’s arms.

"You wouldn't do that~"

"I absolutely would. After making sure your stupid ass isn't concussed or sitting on the floor in a dead roach position."

Yeosang put him down and then moved around him to set up the bowls for a patiently waiting Yunho. Wooyoung made his way over to San, leaning into his space and startling him into focusing his gaze back on Wooyoung instead.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, sending him a curious look. San glanced at Yeosang as the trainer stepped into the next room to set up and then nodded once.

"Yeah."

Wooyoung caught the glance, though, and the smile on his face flickered.

"Oh…I'm sorry. Am I being too much? I'm always this clingy with Yeosang but I…I guess it's not really appropriate-"

San shook his head and put his hand on Wooyoung’s forearm.

"I'm not bothered. I'm actually really happy you were able to see him. He's your best friend, he's important to you."

Wooyoung slow blinked in surprise, his lips parted. Eventually, he let out a small laugh and wrapped his arms around San, kissing him once as the country-born man wrapped his arms around him instinctively.

"You'd be 100% valid if it did bother you. Not everyone is comfortable with that kind of stuff with their partners and other people…be it friendly or flirty. Are you sure? I wouldn't be upset if you told me you weren't comfortable with it." Wooyoung whispered. San sent him a kind smile. He truly did not mind.

"I don't lie to the folks I love," San told him, tenderly massaging his hips. Wooyoung smiled and stole another kiss from him before both of them shifted away from each other in a flustered hurry as Yeosang came back in the kitchen to wash his hands.

"Sorry-" San began to apologize, but Yeosang shrugged, sending him a small smile.

"It's your house. I'm gonna sit in the living room with Yunho and stay out of the way of you two so you can cook in peace.” Yeosang excused himself without conflict, moving to sit on the couch while Wooyoung rolled his sleeves up.

“C’mon, San. I know exactly what we should make.”

In the living room, Yeosang let his head thump onto the back of the couch, a deep exhale pushing past his lips as he tried to calm the chaotic storm of emotions in his mind.

Seeing Wooyoung was good. He couldn’t keep avoiding him. Yeosang missed him dearly and he felt like a bold-faced liar for telling Yeji he wouldn’t change how he was acting towards his best friend.

But at the same time…Yeosang wasn’t sure he liked the tightness in his chest every time he saw the tender look in Wooyoung’s eyes when they landed on San. He’d felt punched in the gut when he walked in on them kissing. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be around Wooyoung and San yet.

And that was the other piece to the equation. San.

The country boy who had stolen everyone’s hearts with a dimpled smile and a purred satoori.

Yeosang had ignored all the times the pink haired man had been staring at him when he thought neither he or Wooyoung were paying attention. Yeosang had good senses for things like that, especially when being in charge of mischievous dogs when training and preteens trying to sneak into the section of the book store that held the adult reading material.

Even when he wasn’t looking back, Yeosang knew the feeling of being stared at well.

Which begged the question, why?

San had no doubt heard about him while Wooyoung was away. Yeosang’s first thought was that he was being sized up or something of the sort and San took offense to Wooyoung’s particular brand of…clingy affection.

But that didn’t seem to be the case. He’d caught San’s gaze softening several times during Wooyoung and Yeosang’s (many) playful bickering bouts throughout the evening, and if Yeosang didn’t know better, he could have sworn he’d seen San let out more than a few sighs of relief when he seemingly realized the two of them were not, in fact, at each other’s throats for real.

So, why?

Yeosang hadn’t realized his leg was bouncing until a warm mass of fur set itself directly in his lap. He laughed and looked down, running his hand through Yunho’s fur as the mastiff cuddled close to him, clearly resisting the urge to jump on the couch for the full cuddle, if the way his back legs kept shifting were anything to go by.

Yeosang smiled. Yunho always knew when he wasn’t doing to well mentally or emotionally.

The trainer moved himself to the floor, accepting a few kisses from Yunho as the giant canine shifted to make room, seemingly happy with the development. Yeosang nuzzled Yunho’s abdomen, eyes closing as he enjoyed the comfort from his canine best friend.

Resting his eyes, that’s all he was doing.

Idly, he wondered if he would have an easier time with all of this if San was someone he could hate. If he was ugly, if his personality was rude, if he was overly vain, something.

Instead, Yeosang was left with this heavy feeling in his chest and the reluctant realization that Wooyoung’s boyfriend, at least from what he could tell right now, was a good match for him.

Resting…just resting. That’s all. His eyes, resting.

Wooyoung poked his head into the living room an hour later, a hand on his hip and an amused smile on his face as he watched Yeosang. The slightly older man was fast asleep on the floor, with Yunho sitting as still as a statue with his head resting beside Yeosang’s, occasionally lifting up to give his owner a small, grooming lick to his face or his hair.

Wooyoung made his way over, kneeling down after grabbing a blanket that was on the couch.

“You’re not getting enough rest, stupid-” He muttered under his breath as he covered Yeosang up. Yunho lifted his head to sniff Wooyoung’s hand before relaxing, giving him a small lick to his knuckles before closing his eyes. Wooyoung laughed and kissed the top of the dog’s head.

“You be a good pillow for my stubborn ass friend, okay?” He whispered into his fur.

Yeosang stirred slightly, but Wooyoung only pet his head, fingers running through deep conditioned silken locks.

“And you settle down. It’s not time for you to wake up yet.” He scolded the unconscious man and Yeosang ended up relaxing his muscles, the momentary furrow of his brow evening out. Wooyoung lingered for a moment or two longer than he had intended before he finally moved away from Yeosang to finish cooking with San.

They woke him up once they were done, with all three men seating themselves on the couch, watching a comedy to go along with their meal.

“It’s delicious.” Yeosang quietly complimented, eating his chicken with an impressed hum. Wooyoung smiled from ear to ear, settled between the two of them.

“Thank you~ We took back some of the garlic we harvested back in Namhae and San helped me tweak the sauce. I think it tastes a lot better.” He smiled while San shyly rubbed his neck with his clean hand.

“It’s not really much of a change, yours was great already.”

Yeosang glanced at him over the top of Wooyoung’s head.

“....but it does have more of a lingering aftertaste now. I’ve eaten plenty of Wooyoung’s food in our years together. The garlic chicken is always my favorite. I do like your addition to it. Good job.” He complimented with a small approving nod.

San felt a flicker of heat settle in his cheeks as he bashfully nodded and looked away.

“No problem.”

“Yeosang~ Praise me more too” Wooyoung teased, earning him an elbow to the ribs and a half-hearted ‘ nevermind, I take it back ’ from his best friend.

The two bickered for a bit more before settling into a comfortable near silence, only interrupted by chewing and the occasional sip of someone’s drink.

San felt his eyelids getting heavy, and apparently, he wasn’t the only one. Wooyoung’s head had made its way to his shoulder, and he’d cuddled in almost instantly, falling asleep minutes after San put an arm around him.

Yeosang stood, collecting the plates and cups before San could sleepily protest. Yunho followed him into the kitchen, and San could pick up the sound of the dog trainer washing dishes inside.

He finished minutes later, strolling into the living room again and taking the same blanket Wooyoung had draped over him and setting it over San’s shoulders and part of Wooyoung’s body.

San perked ever so slightly, feeling soft fingers brush over his bicep with the motion. He lifted his head, watching as Yeosang hooked his leash back into the loop of Yunho’s harness.

“You’re leaving…?” He drowsily inquired. Yeosang glanced over his shoulder at San, his eyes drifting down to Wooyoung for a moment, and then looking back into the country man’s eyes.

“Yeah. I appreciate you making dinner for me. I’ll lock the door after myself, so don’t worry. You two should move somewhere more comfortable to sleep so you don’t hurt your necks, by the way….whenever you want.” Yeosang nodded and began making his way to the front of the house.

San called out to him as he was sliding his shoes on.

“Come back soon! You’re always welcome.”

He missed the way Yeosang’s jaw tightened, his fingers lacing his shoes a bit tighter than he’d needed them to be.

“Thanks. Have a good night, San.”

Yeosang left quietly, and San looked to his side. Wooyoung had been undisturbed by the movements and talking above his head, completely content with his cheek squished against San’s chest.

San kissed his head softly and shifted, picking him up and carrying him to their bed. Wooyoung shifted deeper into his arms the moment he laid him down and San smiled softly, finally letting sleep pull him under, as well.

Yeosang rode his skateboard down the block with Yunho easily pacing him with long gallops. The wind blew his hair across his forehead and the chill of the night shocked him awake, seeping into his bones through the light jacket he was wearing.

“Come back soon! You’re always welcome.”

Yeosang sighed as he rolled down the block.

Why couldn’t that Namhae guy have been an asshole? Everything would have been so much easier.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

September 15th

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Okay~ So we’re both off today and I think I’m gonna take you out for a shopping spree.”

San squinted at Wooyoung from across the room, fresh, dark red circles littering his neck and chest as Wooyoung began preening in the mirror.

They’d had…a very long and energetic night that carried into the early morning. San was normally the very first to rise out of the two of them, a circadian rhythm carried over from years of early rising to farm.

However , today was different. Today San was tired.

“I’m goin’ back ta sleep.” San grumbled, closing his eyes and letting his head thump back onto the pillow that smelled like a mixture of him and Wooyoung’s preferred colognes.

Wooyoung glanced at him before smiling devilishly.

“Aw~ Is my handsome baby tired?”

“Wooyoung, you made me cum three times and edged me between the second and third time. Yes, yes I am tired.” San grumbled. As muffled as his voice was from the pillow, Wooyoung heard him loud and clear, laughing as he walked up, kissing his shoulder.

“I’ll treat you to coffee~”

San didn’t move for a moment before finally lifting his head, eyes half-heartedly narrowed at him.

“Bribery.”

“It absolutely is. I’ll even throw in some kisses if you hurry.”

“You’ll kiss me anyway.”

“Of course I will.”

San rolled his eyes and got up, kissing Wooyoung’s nose before he set off to get dressed. He appeared half an hour later with a pair of comfortable jeans and an overgrown hoodie, a pair of glasses settled on his nose as he watched Wooyoung rush back and forth.

“Too cold for this…this is faded…. is that a tear? ” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, rummaging through his clothes. San arched a brow and stood, making his way over and extending an arm, catching Wooyoung around the waist one of the times he moved to rush by.

“Just wear something comfortable. You look good no matter what.” He lightly scolded. Wooyoung paused for a moment before seemingly recalibrating, dipping back into the closet and emerging moments later with his pair of comfy jeans, accompanied with a low cut v-neck sweater that showed off his own marks he’d gotten from San in return last night.

“Thank you, darling. C’mon, we gotta get there early. There’s this place I want to take you to specifically.”

San tilted his head, his curiosity peaked, but didn’t ask. He liked surprises, and if the look on Wooyoung’s face was anything to go by, he probably wouldn’t get any answers even if he did ask.

They headed out together, and San realized this had been his first time getting to walk through and window shop in the heart of the city since they came here.

They’d moved and he practically spent all of his time settling into his new job and new home.

Everything here was so… big . It was kind of overwhelming at first. Crowds of people so dense he’d had to constantly shift to and fro beside Wooyoung so he didn’t bump into anyone hustling by to get to their jobs.

Wooyoung laced his fingers into San’s, sticking his hand in his boyfriend’s hoodie pocket and pressing himself close to him.

The tension San hadn’t noticed gathered in his shoulders melted away in an instant. He smiled, running his fingers over Wooyoung’s knuckles.

“So, we’re heading to the mall?”

Wooyoung smiled.

“After somewhere else.”

There it is. San knew Wooyoung had something else under his sleeve. He squeezed his hand and chuckled quietly.

“I’m already up and about. Take me wherever ya want.”

Wooyoung smiled triumphantly and continued pulling him along, making idle conversation about the ins and outs of their kitchen and the upcoming plans for some changes as the holidays began to roll in.

San listened with rapt attention, curious to try some of the food Wooyoung had mentioned. The telltale rumble in his stomach as they stepped into a building reminded him that he hadn’t eaten yet, either.

Before he could voice this, he realized they’d stepped into a building with giant, sprawling murals of aquatic animals, hand painted just behind a smiling and waving team behind the counter in front of them.

San’s lips parted.

An aquarium?

Wooyoung let his hand go long enough to practically skip over to the woman at the middle register, leaning on the counter.

“Two tickets, please. I’d like to include the Orca Diner package, too.”

The woman smiled kindly and nodded, her hands flying over the keyboard in front of her. San appeared beside Wooyoung, looking at the giant sea turtle panting behind her on the wall. Wooyoung pressed his hips back, settling down when he felt San’s solid form behind him.

“You’ve never been to an aquarium, right? I wanted to surprise you. It's early on a weekday, so we don’t have to worry about a big crowd just yet.” Wooyoung explained, smiling as he handed his card over to the worker.

San felt his gaze soften, his hand subtly rubbing his hip.

“No, never. Thank you, Woo. I’m excited.”

Wooyoung looked pleased, taking the card and the two wristbands they were given. He fastened the clasp on San’s wrist before letting his boyfriend put his on. Once done, he led the way down the left hall, a bounce in his step San found absolutely adorable.

“The Orca Diner has such good food and the package I paid for has a special view. I’ve always wanted to go on a date here.” He mused, flashing his wristband at the worker stationed outside. He checked the design on the bands and then guided them to a room.

When he opened the door, San felt his jaw drop.

The room’s ceiling and wall was all glass, and as they settled at their table, they watched as schools of fish and even a lemon shark swam past them. San looked up, the blue of the aquarium water making his face light up as he watched the animals in wonder.

Wooyoung propped his head on his palm, watching San with a smile. He felt warmth bloom in his chest as his boyfriend placed his palm on the cool glass, his eyes darting left and right, up and down, unable to focus on just one creature, smiling so wide it made his dimples pop.

Wooyoung felt his heart flutter, pride welled in his chest.

San had worked hard, he had only wanted to treat his beloved. He was glad it had worked out this way and San was enchanted by the beauty around them.

They both ordered themselves a hearty breakfast meal, and finally San tore his gaze away from the glass to look at Wooyoung.

“Did you plan this date?”

Wooyoung’s lips curled upwards proudly.

“Of course I did.”

San smiled softly and leaned over, kissing him softly.

“Thank you. I’ve never seen anything like this.” San sounded as if he was in a dream, casting glances back at the fish as they swam by, paying them no mind as they went about their aquatic day.

Wooyoung smiled. He’d always wanted to go on an aquarium date. As weird as it may sound, he often found himself getting design and decorative ideas when looking at the more outlandish and flamboyant animals their world had to offer. He found peace going to places like this in his free time-and he’d been here several times, knew this place to be a rehabilitation center for wildlife release, as well-and he’d breathed a sigh of relief knowing San also was enjoying himself.

They’d gotten their food and ate while making light conversation. Wooyoung told him between bites where he’d like to take them in the aquarium. San leaned over, eyes twinkling excitedly as he listened to Wooyoung with rapt attention.

“-and then we finish off with the seals. Seals are my favorite, next to the otters.” He told him triumphantly. San smiled and kissed his nose, setting his chopsticks aside.

“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll follow ya. We should take pictures, I think Mom, Dad, and the little ones would love to see.”

Wooyoung smiled and nodded, standing and heading out after he’d finished paying. The two walked hand and hand through the aquarium, walking nearly in sync as they took in the sheer size of the facility.

Wooyoung always found places like this to feel so much bigger inside than out.

San couldn’t hold back his quiet, amazed ‘woahs’ and ‘wahs’ as he looked around, taking time to read nearly every informational plaque on the animals they happened to pass by.

“Oh, they’re so smooth, seriously, come feel this, Woo!” San gasped as he ran his fingers over the back of a baby ray in the handpool. Wooyoung couldn’t hide the sheer joyous smile on his face as he obliged his boyfriend, running his fingers gently and politely over the ray as it swam past him.

The two took pictures of nearly everything, taking turns on taking pictures of the animals, then each other near the animals, and then them together with the glass walls of the aquarium behind them for a stunning backdrop.

By the time they’d reached the seals, both of them had sore cheeks from the smiles and laughter. They watched as a trainer explained the story of the one-eyed seal they’d had in a particular tank, her rescue and recovery story, all while the excited mammal hobbled about beside her, eagerly patting her own belly and waiting for a fish she was so generously rewarded between the trainer joyously explaining everything.

San looked down at his arms, full of souvenirs and plushies from the aquarium by the time the duo popped out of the facility. Wooyoung grinned and opened the bookbag he’d purchased inside, taking his time to arrange every purchase they made nearly inside before he zipped it up and slung it over his shoulder, sending San a fox-like smile.

“You look so cute, I never would have thought you’d like whale sharks so much.”

“They’re pretty!” San pouted, following him down the block. Wooyoung snickered to himself before he nudged him.

“Don’t get too comfortable, my love. We still have all the other shopping to do.” he reminded him before hooking his arm under San’s and taking off running, both of them speeding off towards the subway.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

October 12th

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

-“Your brother’s birthday is coming up.”

San looked up from the basket of laundry he was folding. He had one of Eric’s race car hoodies in his hands as he peered over it at Chaerin.

“Do you have any big plans? Are we going to do another pumpkin patch thing or go to a petting zoo?” He inquired with a smile, folding Gahyeon’s dress next. Chaerin stirred her food on the stove thoughtfully before she turned to look at him over her shoulder.

“He wants to spend it with you…and Wooyoung. The others, too. He says you all are his ‘bestest friends’.” She hummed. San’s gaze softened as he glanced into the next room, finding his three siblings sleeping together under a blanket Jiyong had sewn for them.

She added a sprinkle of spice to her mix, the chopsticks occasionally tapping along the sides of the pan.

“Eric started kindergarten and we found a daycare that will accept Gahyeon and Jongho, but Jongho is worried about making friends, so he wanted you all to come over. Feel free to tell them to bring their partners, just all of you bare in mind he’s a bit of a sensitive boy.”

San smiled and nodded, finishing up his cleaning before he dried his hands and got to work sending a mass text to all of his friends.

At the very least, he and Wooyoung would be there, he just hoped the others would come along with them.-

“Thanks again for letting us come over, Noona!”

Well, this went…better than expected.

Chaerin put her hands on her hips, watching as Wooyoung and San’s friends filtered into the home, each in pajamas and holding some kind of snack.

Jongho held her hand, his eyes lightening up as he saw everyone setting down snacks and at least one present each.

There were people there he didn’t know, but the comfy pajamas Chaerin had instructed them all to wear for the party helped.

Wooyoung smiled and knelt down, opening his arms.

“Is that my birthday boy? Happy birthday, Jongho!”

Jongho smiled and rushed out, throwing his arms around Wooyoung’s neck and smiling as he peeked over his shoulder.

“Hi..I’m J-Jongho.” He quietly introduced himself, hiding moments later as the other adults smiled at him.

“Hi Jongho! I’m Yeji!”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart. My name is Chris, but you can call me Chan, if you want.”

They went down the line, introducing themselves and handing off high 5s and gentle ruffle’s of Jongho’s hair while passing off their gifts.

San stood off to the side, taking the gifts and smiling from ear to ear while Gahyeon and Eric balanced on his hips.

The very last person to arrive was Yeosang, who stayed close to the door, talking with Jiyong while the others were giving their greetings.

Once Jiyong smiled and nodded, pointing behind him, San saw what they were talking about.

Yunho was with him, a sleeping hat on his head and a set of fluffy dog booties on each of his paws. All three of the children locked eyes on the massive canine and Yeosang stopped, making a motion with his hand and having Yunho do the same.

“Sorry we’re late. This is Yunho and my name is Yeosang. Happy birthday, friend.” Yeosang smiled softly. Yunho’s tail wagged, a bag held in his teeth.

Wooyoung looked at Jongho, checking for any signs of fear. Yunho was bigger than him by a significant amount, after all.

Instead of apprehension or even tears, he found Jongho wiggling trying to climb down, and as soon as he did, he toddled over to Yunho and Yeosang.

Chaerin watched like a hawk, her body tense, while both Eric and Gahyeon wiggled free of San’s grip, coming over to the dog, as well.

Yeosang kept an eye on the situation, kneeling once they got close. Before he got the chance to inform them of how to greet dogs, Jongho looked up at him, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Can…can I pet the doggie, Yeosangie-hyung?”

Gahyeon nodded eagerly, looking from him to Yunho and then back again.

“Is it okay? He’s so pretty!”

Eric was practically vibrating.

“And big!”

Yeosang felt his heart melt. What a good set of kids.

“Yes. How you greet a dog is like this-”His voice was tender as he instructed the children, his hair pulled back into a low, fluffy ponytail while some of his bangs framed his face just right.

Wooyoung couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

San wasn’t much different, watching as Jongho reached his hand out. Yunho sniffed his cherub fingers and set the bag in his mouth down, lowering his head and licking at the birthday boy’s arm while he and his siblings began to gently pet his head and ears.

“Well, that’s settled. Everyone is here so we can actually get this party started!” Chaerin beamed, moving to pour cups of soda for the lot of them while her starry-eyed children asked Yeosang a million and one questions while sending loving glances at Yunho. The canine was patient, calmly giving dog kisses and cuddled whenever the children called to him or offered their hands again for sniffing.

“Here, let me help, Unnie!” Yeji offered. Wooyoung was in the kitchen in an instant, grabbing some plates so he could help pass snacks.

Chaerin smiled and began directing the younger adults while San walked over to Yeosang.

“You can set up a water bowl and food bowl over here. We have sliding doors that lead outside, so if he needs to go on a walk, it can be close…thank you for coming.” He smiled and bowed to him and Yeosang rubbed his neck, noticing San had approached him without Wooyoung at his side.

Part of him was still expecting the man to pull him aside and show him a different side of himself regarding Yeosang and Wooyoung’s closeness.

There was nothing of the sort, and instead, San extended his hand to Yunho, voice kind and eyes soft.

“Hey there, Yuyu. Thank you for coming, too. My siblings seem to love you already.” He beamed. Yunho happily licked his hand and walked closer, nuzzling him to entice him to scratch his neck.

It worked, and Yeosang felt some of the tension he was holding onto relax as he moved to set up Yunho’s little corner by the back door while San scratched his throat and eventually his stomach when the large dog flopped over to the side.

From across the room, Chan watched the two interact subtly, his arm around Changbin’s waist. There didn’t seem to be any conflict, and the man was pleasantly surprised at that.

“Oppa?”

Chan blinked into focus and looked down, finding Gahyeon staring up at him with wide eyes of wonder. He tilted his head and bent down to her eye level, smiling at her.

“Yes?”

“Is Binnie Oppa your boyfriend?” she inquired. Chan laughed, the sound rich and soft as he nodded.

San’s head perked as he looked back to the kitchen, brows furrowing. Usually, his siblings minded their manners when it came to prying into an adult’s life, but they were still kids, at the end of the day, and sometimes they lacked a filter all the same.

“Gahyeonnie, let’s not get all in othe folks’ business-”

“Isn’t Yejie Unnie also your girlfriend? I saw you two smooch.”

Chan blinked owlishly while Changbin choked on his drink above them. Somewhere behind them, a howl of a laugh came from Yeonjun and Yeji snickered behind her hand, more amused than anything, while Chaerin was less than pleased.

“ Lee Gahyeon! You do not ask people that!”

Gahyeon pouted and Yeji smiled.

“It's okay, Unnie. That’s why we let you know before we came. Chan and Changbin are both my boyfriends, Gahyeon.”

Gahyeon looked up at them, lips parted before they began to shimmer.

“You can do that?! Woah!”

Chaerin scolded her daughter, apologizing profusely to the trio while Wooyoung handed Eric his juice and some of his snacks. Eric thanked him and whispered.

“Would you date someone else with our big brother?” He inquired. Wooyoung’s lips parted in surprise and despite himself, his eyes instantly landed on Yeosang, who was looking towards the kitchen due to the chaos.

Eric stared at him for a moment, tilting his head as he noticed Wooyoung’s lack of a response. He went to ask again, when he suddenly felt a ruffle to his head.

By the grace of some higher power, Jiyong appeared, steering his son away with a gentle scolding tone. Wooyoung’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he immediately moved to busy himself with setting up the game console in the living room, unaware of the curious eyes following him.

San’s, Yeosang’s.

Once the two older children got a stern talking to regarding ‘boundaries’, the group migrated to the living room, eager to play the party games Wooyoung and San helped prepare on Jongho’s behalf.

Said birthday boy sat beside Yunho and Wooyoung, big eyes focused on the screen while some of the others took their turn customizing their karts.

“Do you wanna race, or do you wanna watch, baby bear?” Wooyoung inquired. Jongho looked up at him, one of his hands petting Yunho in repetitive, short motions.

“I’m not so good at it…” He murmured. Wooyoung smiled and picked him up, setting him in his lap and scooting closer to Yunho so Jongho could still reach him for pets.

“Your Hyung is gonna win every single match for you, so go ahead and customize our kart!”

Jongho looked at the controller and smiled, gently taking it and fumbling around to get the kart the way he wanted, uncaring of stats.

Wooyoung smiled softly and looked on the other side of Yunho, at Yeosang watching the screen while everyone got settled. He’d already gotten his kart ready in the meantime.

“Thank you for coming, Sangie. I know you’ve been busy with work, so I really appreciate you and YuYu stopping by.” He smiled. Yeosang looked at him and sent him a quiet smile that made his heart flip.

“I see why you insisted so much. They’re sweet kids.” He looked over at Yunho, seeing his companion so comfortable in the environment that he’d closed his eyes, his head on Jongho and Wooyoung’s thigh as he enjoyed the attention.

“And I think Yunho has made some new friends today, too.” he chuckled. Yunho’s tail wagged subtly, an indication he wasn’t actually asleep, and that drew a laugh from Soobin’s lips as he walked by with some trash to discard of.

“This is the best birthday ever.” Jongho muttered, looking at Yunho and kissing his head, between the eyebrow-like markings there. Yunho’s tongue swiped out for the briefest of moments, licking his own nose before he settled back in.

Yeosang’s eyes softened even more, feeling warm and fuzzy at the gentle interaction.

“I’m glad.”

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. Jongho, surprisingly warmed up to all of the new faces fairly quickly, thanking and hugging everyone when he got to open his gifts.

By the time 9pm rolled around, San had two out of three of his siblings unconscious and dangling from his arms, sleeping without a care in the world. He moved to grab Jongho, bur a different hand eclipsed his vision, and he watched as Yeosang came to pick up the birthday boy himself.

“Oh- you can put him on my back, I’m used to carrying these three around all the time.”

Yeosang shook his head.

“I can help out. Besides, all that weight on your back isn't good for you. Just tell me where to go.”

San sent him a grateful look as he told him to follow him down the left hall. It wasn’t a far walk to get them where they needed to be, and the gentle, off-beat sound behind him told San that Yunho was close in tow.

Yeosang helped him open the door to Eric and Gahyeon’s rooms, respectively, standing aside as San tucked them in, giving gentle kisses to their heads and placing their favorite plushie in each of their arms.

“Jongho’s room is across the hall.” San informed him, moving to close Gahyeon’s door and then opening Jongho’s moments later. Yeosang followed his lead, setting Jongho in bed and tucking him in. San handed over Jongho’s favorite dragon plushie and kissed his head, slightly leaning over Yeosang to do so.

The older man didn’t move a muscle, simply glancing up, his breath fanning over San’s neck momentarily as the man tucked his sibling in and then moved away, sending him an honest smile.

“Again, thank you so much for coming. I hope you got to unwind and enjoy yourself.” He sent Yeosang a dimpled smile and beckoned for him to follow him back out.

The two walked in a comfortable silence, joining the others as they helped pack up the leftovers, distributing it in plates to take home and some getting stored away in Chaerin and Jiyong’s fridge.

“You all have my thanks. My babies are going to have to learn how to make friends their own ages, but for now, It's nice to see my family grow.” Jiyong put a hand on his hip as he looked over all of the people in his home.

“As a thanks, you all are invited to a Halloween party I’m throwing later in the month.”

Wooyoung nearly tripped over himself, he spun so fast, eyes lighting up.

“Wait, really?! Is it like, some really fancy, high-end costume party?!”

Chaerin snorted quietly and Jiyong hummed, shrugging a shoulder.

“I suppose it can be considered as such. But its more of a gathering between friends, so think nothing of who else might be there and have fun as you would at any other party.” He instructed, smiling softly as he saw San and the others chatter amongst each other.

“You have some time to think about it. If you’d like to come, just let San or Wooyoung know to tell me and I’ll update the headcount I have.”

They were met with a collection of eager nods from most of the group. Yeosang didn’t respond verbally, using the guise of packing up Yunho’s bowls as an excuse.

It's not that he didn’t want to go and be with his friends, he swore he wasn’t some sort of antisocial person.

He just-

Healing was taking it’s sweet time. He was truly grappling with being able to wrap his head around his own emotions.

That’s what happens when you spend entirely too much time hiding from them, suppressing them, even.

But it was fine, Halloween was on a weekday this year, so he could just make up some excuse, say he had work or picked up a shift from someone and-

“Yeo, are you going?”

If you were wondering, no , Yeosang did not squeak when Wooyoung appeared at his side. He simply…exhaled in a particular manner, that’s it.

Seriously.

Regardless of his status as a squeak toy, Yeosang glanced at his friend, finding Wooyoung crouching, petting Yunho as he held his gaze. The trainer flushed slightly, biting the side of his tongue to remind himself to keep his calm.

Wooyoung was Wooyoung. He was always this close to him. He always looked him in the eyes when they spoke.

Why is keeping his cool such a struggle nowadays?

“I don’t know if I can, I probably have a class and-”

“Can’t Jungkook or Hyunjae take over the class? Just this once? I wanna wear matching costumes!”

Yeosang blinked at him. Once, twice, Yunho’s bowl dangling uselessly in his fingers as he stared at the energetic man, listening as he listed off different outfits they could do.

“Angels…? Hm. Sirens! No, we don’t have enough time for a good quality one and those scales are a bitch to do makeup wise…pirates?...Oh, might workshop that a bit-”

Yeosang watched Wooyoung’s brain take off running down the block, firing off suggestions left and right. Yunho had made himself comfortable, his chin settled on Wooyoung’s thigh.

At some point, a well-worked hand settled on Wooyoung’s shoulder and San appeared, smiling softly down at the two.

“How about some kind of modern animal thing? We can use somethin’ in our closets and just need to worry about the, uh, ears and tail, I guess.” He offered, seemingly trying to save Yeosang from Wooyoung’s active imagination.

Wooyoung perked and stood to his full height, grinning like mad, pointing at each of them.

“Rabbit, Fox, Cat!”

Yeosang blinked.

“Why do I have to be a rabbit? It's the smallest out of the three of those and I’m not even the shortest here.” Wooyoung sent him a devious look.

“Because you’d look cute in bunny ears?”

Yeosang stared at him, jaw slack, and his brows only twitched in interest when he saw San look in his direction, nodding quietly, lips twisted as if envisioning the sight.

Whatever that weird flutter in his stomach was just now needed to stop immediately.

“Well too bad. I want to be the cat if this is what we’re doing.” He cut in, trying to get some of the control back in the situation he was quickly careening towards. Wooyoung pouted, clearly, he’d wanted that one.

“How about you be the fox, Woo? I know you were probably going to make me the cat, but I can be the rabbit. Cats and foxes are super close, anyway, I’m sure ya won’t have to tweak your vision too much, right?”

Two sets of eyes turned to San, then to the top of his pastel pink head, and whether they noticed or not, both of them nodded in unison, clearly agreeing with the idea of a set of rabbit ears situated atop the country man’s head.

Yeosang cleared his throat, cheeks flushed, and stood to his height.

“Right, should I go looking for what this ‘outfit’ should be or should I leave it to you?” He inquired. Wooyoung’s eyes lit up and a devious smile came to his face.

“Leave it to me, just tell me your clothing sizes.”

Oh goodness, this wasn’t going to be a simple closet fit, was it?

San, as if reading his mind, sent Yeosang a sympathetic smile, letting out a small amused huff as Wooyoung began rattling off about matching and not being ‘basic bitches’.

Yeosang cleared his throat and made his way to the door, taking his skateboard out of Yunho’s mouth and zipping up his coat.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. I’m headed out. Thank you again for inviting me, it was nice to be able to hang out with everyone and Jongho looked like he had a lot of fun today too.” He bowed and was met with a collection of goodbyes and waves.

“Hey, call me when you get home, alright? So I know you’re back safe.” Wooyoung called to him one last time, standing a few feet from the door as Yeosang laced his shoes up.

“I’ll text you as soon as I’m home.”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at him half-heartedly.

“ Call me when you’re home so I know you’re safe.”

Yeosang had half a mind to be a little shit and repeat himself, too, but instead, he settled for putting a hand on his hip and nodding.

“Yes, yes. Anything else, darling?”

It slipped, honest. The two of them used terms of endearment with one another all the time before…Wooyoung came back from the summer and it truly was a slip of the tongue-

“I love you, darling. Bye.” Wooyoung met him halfway, grinning once again, his body language a bit looser. San smiled from his side, waving without a care at him.

“Goodnight, get home safe.”

Yeosang cleared his throat and nodded, muttering a quick ‘you too’ before he disappeared into the night with Yunho.

Chaerin and Jiyong watched on from the kitchen island, eventually exchanging a look with one another.

“....do you think they know yet?” She mused to her husband. He snorted, leaning against her.

“Those three goofballs? No, not at all. Why do you think I pulled a Halloween party out of my ass?” He muttered into her ear. She snickered and watched Wooyoung and San move back to the rest of their friends, exchanging hugs and plans to set up upcoming hangouts.

“Think it’ll work?” She inquired, brow arched. Jiyong shrugged.

“Dunno. That’s up to them.”

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

October 18th

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“My love, do you want to plan a picnic sometime?” Wooyoung inquired as he rolled up rice balls. San looked up from the small mason jars he had lined up on the counter, blinking owlishly.

“Where did that come from?”

“Well, you haven’t really gotten to sit down and relax at all since you’ve moved in and I feel bad. We immediately threw you into the hustle and bustle of work instead of letting you relax and explore…” Wooyoung trailed off, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. San smiled at him.

“Is it that much different from when you all came to Namhae? The very next day, you were out in the fields with Hyung and I. Besides, I’m used to keeping busy like this. My only off time was when I was home with my family. We have been relaxing when we’re here. And there was the aquarium date! That was fun!” He reminded him, humored by the pout that settled on Wooyoung’s face, clearly not thinking it was enough.

“Well, it’s not exciting if it’s just the same as Namhae!” He huffed. San arched a brow at him, pouring drinks into the mason jars.

“Then we can set up a date night. How about next weekend? We have a long weekend because of our schedule.”

Wooyoung perked and nodded, smiling from ear to ear, a bounce in his step as he began packing away the rice balls he’d made.

In front of the two, lay a spread of lunch boxes for their friends. San had come up with the idea after seeing how tired Yeosang was the other day and worrying about their other friends in their circle.

After adding a side of veggies and protein and letting Wooyoung customize each little box with a small ‘mascot’ made from the ingredients he used, the two were off for the day, making light conversation as they decided to walk through the city.

“First is Soobin and Chan, they’re the closest. If we’re lucky, we can catch Changbin working out at the gym. He’s not working until later tonight.” Wooyoung brought a finger to his chin as he worked out their game plan. San simply adjusted his grip on the box that held the mason jars, worried he’d drop them.

The two made light idle chat as they walked, eventually making their way to a spacious fitness gym just a few blocks out of the heart of the city.

The receptionist looked up, her eyes brightening as they landed on the duo.

“Oh, Wooyoung~ Good Morning! I don’t think I’ve met you, love. What’s your name?” she smiled at San, leaning on the counter and seemingly sizing him up. The dimpled man blinked in surprise.

“Oh, good morning, Miss. My name is San-”

“He’s my boyfriend, Noona.”

Her smile fell immediately and she sent Wooyoung a flat look.

“What did I tell you about coming in here with ‘off-limits’ cuties? First Yeosang, now him. What’s a girl to do?”

Wooyoung smiled casually, shrugging a shoulder. He seemed to take no offense, though San perked at the ‘off limits’ comment.

Of course, Wooyoung was in love with Yeosang, after all.

“So, does this mean I can bag Yeosang now that you have this cutie for a boyfriend?” She whispered, though San heard her clear as day. She hadn’t been trying hard to keep her volume down.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes half-heartedly.

“Not a chance in hell. Anyway, we’re going to find Chan and Soobin, byeeee.” Wooyoung beckoned San with the tilt of his jaw and San fell in step with him, catching the receptionist huffing playfully under her breath.

“Oh, so you get TWO boyfriends? Life is unfair-”

San blushed and looked over at Wooyoung.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya get snippy with anyone like that in regards to me before.”

Wooyoung hummed, leading him down a hall.

“You’re hot, I can’t let just anyone think they have a chance with you.” He puffed his chest out proudly, grinning when he saw San blush down to his ears before glancing away.

“Wooyoung? San? What are you two doing here?”

The pair looked up as Soobin jogged down the hall to greet them, covered in a light sheen of sweat, though San felt like the man’s kind smile made him glow even more.

“Just one of the handsome men we wanted to see~ Sannie and I made lunches for everyone since we were off anyway, so we figured we’d make sure our lovely best friends are eating properly.” Wooyoung explained, fishing into the large tote he had brought along and handing Soobin a pastel blue bento box. Soobin looked touched, peeking inside and smiling at the bunny Wooyoung had made out of the food inside the box.

“That’s so sweet…thank you both so much. I’ll go grab Chan and Changbin. They only just started their arm and chest workouts, but it’s in Chan’s private room, so I won’t be interrupting too much, I think.” He mused. Wooyoung scoffed half-heartedly and nudged San.

“What did I say? I told you Changbin would probably be here. Yeji not being here means she’s working at the bookstore, so we’ll go there after we make sure her other two-thirds are eating.”

San watched Wooyoung march forward with a soft smile on his face. He really had a way of taking charge in a myriad of situations, and this was no different. San could tell he felt back at home in his own skin since they were back in the city, though.

Wooyoung was, by no means, a quiet man, but being back in the hustle and bustle of the city only made the man bloom fully into what he assumed was his full nature. San needed a bit longer to adjust to his surroundings, and found himself being a quiet observer more often than naught.

Soobin glanced over at the man and gently pat his back, turning up the watts on his smile when San turned his attention back to him.

“How are things doing? Are you adjusting well? We didn’t get to talk much at Jongho’s party about life.” He sent him a genuine smile to ease San, as if reading the man’s wandering thoughts. San flushed and nodded, smiling at him.

“I am. Everyone is so kind. I just hope I’ve left a good impression on everyone.” He adjusted his grip on the box nervously and Soobin looked down the hall to where Wooyoung had poked his head in.

The man had clearly caught Chan and Changbin giving each other ‘reward kisses’, if the teasing was anything to go by as they approached.

“I don’t think you have to try too hard at all. You’re a very likeable and down-to-earth guy, San. I’m excited to spend more time with you and everyone else. Has everyone been welcoming you in well?” He inquired. San nodded.

“Yeah, everyone’s been so kind. I’m looking forward to the party. Wooyoung’s been working hard on his, my, and Yeosang’s costumes.”

Soobin’s smile faltered ever so slightly, seemingly waiting to see if he had a bad experience with the somewhat elusive dog trainer. When San only met his worried gaze with a curious one of his own, Soobin blinked.

Once, twice, then he relaxed his shoulders.

“Oh, is that so? Things are going well?”

San had gotten good at reading people. Soobin was trying to feel out if there was any tension between the two men. Understandable, given the circumstances, but San’s expression didn’t sour in the slightest.

“Yeah, he’s been over a couple of times for Wooyoung to take measurements before he and I get kicked out of Wooyoung’s, and I quote; ‘creative room.’” He laughed softly, though there was a fondness in his voice that caught Soobin off guard.

Yeosang was not, by any means, a disrespectful or confrontational man, so the lot of them didn’t expect him to throw a fit when he was with San, but it was still a surprise to know he had made such an impression on the man who was with Wooyoung.

They all knew how Yeosang felt about their energetic friend.

“Well then, I’m really glad everything is going well for you! If you need anything, please let me know. Of course, friends get free passes to the gym, just let Chan or I know when you’re coming.” Soobin told him before looking into the room.

“I appreciate the bento box, but do you have to be so obnoxious? We were in the middle of working out.” Changbin huffed, standing with his arms crossed. Wooyoung looked back at him like the cat that ate the canary.

“Of course. If no one else is going to give you shit, who will? I wanna know what workout you two are doing that involves so many kisses in the gym~” He teased, yelping and dodging the slap Changbin aimed at his arm.

Chan stood beside the two with a small, patient smile on his face, seemingly more than used to the shenanigans of the two. He looked up when he saw San and Soobin and made his way over to the two while Changbin and Wooyoung bickered.

“Thank you so much for the lunch. It came at the perfect time. I didn’t bring one today because we were running late this morning and I almost called Yeji to ask her if she could stop by with some on her break. I appreciate it.” He bowed to San and took the mason jars San had offered with a subtle lift of the box and a smile.

“Of course. It’s nothin’ too crazy, but I hope it’s at least filling until lunchtime.”

Chan smiled at him and finally cast a look over his shoulder when Wooyoung let out an unruly shriek.

“Alright, that’s enough, you two. Changbin, my love, let him out of the headlock and give me your box so I can put it in the fridge in my office.” Chan scolded. Immediately, the two of them froze, looking at Chan like a pair of deer in headlights before they pouted and pulled away from each other.

“ Anyway, thank you. Both of you. I’ll pay you back next time I have time.” Changbin smiled as Wooyoung fixed his hair and stood to his full height.

“Asshole, do you know how long it takes me to do my hair?” He muttered playfully before picking up the tote.

“Don’t mention it. We’re gonna go head to Yeji now. Have a good day, tell us if you like it. I tried some new things with San’s advice, so I need the feedback.” Wooyoung fixed the men with a stare until they all agreed with either nods or half-hearted ‘yeah yeahs’ (courtesy of Changbin).

Satisfied, Wooyoung stepped out of the room, kissing San’s dimple before he headed down the hall.

“C’mon baby. We need to make sure all of our lovely friends eat. Where would they be without us?” He lamented dramatically. Soobin laughed, Changbin rolled his eyes, and Chan watched the trio leave with a hand on his hip.

The two engaged in light conversation until they came across a cozy-looking bookshop with an hourglass depicted on the blade sign outside of it. Wooyoung smiled and stepped up faster, opening the door and smiling flirtatiously at San.

“After you, my love~” He winked, his chest puffing up proudly at the flustered way San cleared his throat and hustled in.

Immediately, he’s met with the scent of cinnamon sugar and vanilla.

The bookshop appears bigger on the inside, and as much as everyone has told him it was ‘small’, San was still blown away at how many different sections there were to walk through and he almost didn’t hear Yeji come over to them.

“Good morning, Binnie and Chan told me you were coming. You two got here fast, though!”

San and Wooyoung looked over, finding Yeji jogging over to them, peeling some gloves off of her hands.

“It wasn’t too far but uh-what are you doing?” San blinked owlishly as he watched her take off her apron, which had been speckled with all kinda of color smears.

“I was doing some demos for our upcoming arts and crafts day. We’re going to make some spoopy soap for Halloween and give out candy to anyone who stops by in costume.” She grinned, hands on her hips as she watched Wooyoung rummage around before handing her a bento.

“Here’s lunch!”

“Thank you~ You two are like, a pair of house-husband saviors~” She smiled and moved to a counter, glancing over at San when she saw him looking around in interest.

“Go ahead, baby boy. Look around my little shop. Let me know if you wanna check anything out.” She grinned and waved the curious man off. San smiled and nodded in thanks, moving to walk through rows upon rows of colorful books.

There were a few people littered around here and there, but given the time of day, there wasn’t a high concentration of people in the area that would make things claustrophobic.

He ran his fingers over book covers, spotting several books with beautifully crafted covers that drew his attention.

Some of them were a bit larger in size- ’That one Against the Tide thing on the table has like 3 volumes and the small paper sign says its not done?’- while some were significantly smaller. San glanced over to see Wooyoung and Yeji leaning on a counter, talking and laughing as she ate her bento.

San didn’t want to disturb them and interrupt them speaking, so instead, he plucked the closest book he could find, missing the fact he’d wandered into the section of the shop with the more explicit works.

He’d found a spot on a nearby cat-shaped bean bag on the floor and settled in, opening his book.

He was unsure how many minutes had passed, his eyes combing through the pages. He found himself engrossed in the story, though he found a bit early on that he’d grabbed not only a book from the queer adult section, but that it had also contained very vivid material on the inside.

-”Tilt your head up, I want you to look me in the eyes, Hyunjin.”

Minho is met with a slow smile stretching across his love’s ruby-red lips, the lipstick smeared at the corner. Hyunjin obliges, purring as Minho crossed the room, running his fingers through Hyunjin’s silken hair.

Then, his eyes drift down to Jisung, spent and panting, still buried deep inside of Hyunjin, the evidence of their lovemaking making a mess between their legs.

A smile stretches across Minho’s face as he leaned close, stealing a kiss from Hyunjin before he caressed Jisung, kissing him too and reveling in the man’s soft moan as he pressed Hyunjin flush against him in an attempt to feel them both.

“There’s no need to rush,” Minho chuckled, moving to settle himself in a chair just beyond their bed’s reach.

“I'd like to…savor it a bit more. Every beat of your heart, every thrum of excitement in your blood. I can taste it from here. I'm enjoying the show. Continue. I'll join when I'm ready for a bite.”-

San stared at the page slack-jawed and beet red.

Two vampires and their human lover. All of them, sharing kisses and whispers of love, standing by each other in a love story that had been…oddly domestic despite the vampiric nature of two-thirds of the main characters.

Maybe throuples like this are more common than San could have guessed…

"Whacha reading?"

San jolted and nearly hurled the book, clutching his chest with wide eyes as he looked at a mischievous Wooyoung. His boyfriend nearly cackled behind him, covering his mouth to keep himself from laughing as San gave him a half-hearted shove, standing up.

"Don't do that!" He huffed, glaring at Wooyoung. His boyfriend put his hands on his hips, proud of himself.

"Yeji and I are all done babe. We just need to drop Yeosang’s off since Yeonjun is out of town."

San glanced down at the book in his hands and cleared his throat.

"Gimmie a second. I'm gonna, uh I'm gonna buy this real quick." He shuffled along while Wooyoung hummed and moved to peruse the books himself.

"No problem, call me when you're ready, my love."

San nodded and headed off to Yeji, sheepishly putting the book in front of her. She smiled at him, glancing down at the book before humming, her brows going up just a margin.

San felt his cheeks darken even more.

"This is a pretty good series. This is the second one, though. I recommend you read the first one before you continue this. It makes their relationship feel more impactful.” She advised, smiling sweetly at San as she scanned the book regardless of his decision. He shifted from one foot to the other, worrying his lip between his teeth for a moment before he moved back to the section of the bookstore he had been in, coming back once he found the aforementioned first book.

Yeji smiled and added that one, applying an employee discount before she put them in a paper bag with a cat on the front of it.

“If you have any questions on the book or…anything similar, let me know.” She added the last part in a whisper, glancing at Wooyoung before looking at San once again.

“I- N-no it’s nothing like that. I-”

“San, I’m not assuming anything. I’m just saying…if you ever want coffee and to talk about some books, I’m your girl.” She beamed and tilted her head, smiling at him.

San looked at the bag and cleared his throat, nodding.

“Right..thank you, Yeji.” He bowed and headed back to Wooyoung, finding him pursuing the manga. He perked and smiled at San, adjusting his grip on the tote with the last bento and mason jar.

“Got everything you wanted?” He inquired. San nodded, kissing his head as they stepped out of the shop, a melodic chime following them as they went.

They had to walk significantly farther to get to the dog training facility, and San could tell it was after lunch despite their efforts to deliver the food and drink to their friends by the noon hour. The streets, while still bustling in their own right, had less suited men and women rushing to and from food shops, and San had enough room to walk side by side Wooyoung comfortably without worrying about accidentally brushing into anyone.

They still kept their hands unlinked, just in case they needed to maneuver apart as a wayward office worker or a teenager in a hurry came darting down the middle of the sidewalk, but overall, this time of day proved to be more flexible than their earlier runs.

When they finally got to the dog training facility, San could hear a cacophony of barking and yipping coming from beyond a set of heavy, tinted doors.

Wooyoung took the lead, checking first before pushing the door in, making sure no dogs were trying to make any great escapes the moment he did so. Once the coast was clear, he guided San all the way in, and the two walked up to a man and woman standing by the front. The man smiled jovially at them, his piercings shimmering in the light while the petite woman at his side rubbed her belly.

Ah, she must be the one that was heading off to her maternity leave soon.

“Kookie-hyung~ Jennie-noona~” Wooyoung practically sang, smiling ear to ear at the two. Jennie smiled back before glancing at San curiously.

“I can’t ever get you to visit with a dog, but instead, you bring a new friend?” She teased. San blushed and bowed,

“My name is San. I’m his boyfriend.”

Both her and ‘Kookie’s’ eyebrows shot up. They exchanged a look with one another before some kind of silent realization dawned on them, if the small ‘ah’s they let out was anything to go by.

San fidgeted. If Yeosang worked here and they had that kind of reaction, clearly they’d heard of him in some capacity.

“Are you looking for Yeosang? He’s started a class but Jungkook-ah can bring you to the sidelines. Just try not to distract the dogs, okay? He gets really upset when his classes are interrupted.” She advised them. Jungkook nodded and kissed her head before beckoning both men to follow him down the hall.

“Thank you, sorry for intruding.” San humbly apologized while Wooyoung waved, puffing his chest out.

“Bah, don’t worry! Yeo Yeo has a nasty habit of not eating properly when I’m not cooking for him, so we’re doing him a big favor.”

Jungkook only smiled, listening to the two before stopping outside a room with a fox painted on the door.

“Alrighty. Follow my lead, keep your voices a bit down if you can, and try not to distract him, I can see he’s already started in there.” He instructed, guiding them into a room that had a big, circular area in the center with turf. The area outside of it had raised walls so (most) dogs couldn’t get out with ease, and as asked, the two of them silently filed into the area where there were seats, opting not to stand too close to the walls, for fear they’d become a distraction for what was assumed to be a beginner class.

They were far enough that they believed they could eat their own lunches, despite the lateness, so they began rustling about as quietly as they could to eat as they watched Yeosang’s class. Once they were settled, Jungkook left them to their own devices and they watched on as Yeosang scanned the group in front of him.

His long, fluffy hair was secured under a cap and his tanktop was tucked into his pants as Yunho stood dutifully at his side. He looked more like a military drill sergeant than what San had expected a dog trainer to look like.

It was quite…quite an impressive look, if he was being honest.

“When you are here, it is not just the dogs that will be trained. You yourselves, as their owners and companions, will be training alongside them. That is the most important thing here. During my classes, you and your dogs are equals , and I will train you both as such. A dog can be as well-behaved and wonderful as can be, but the moment they are put around reckless people, gradually, over time, that behavior switches. It changes. And it does not take much of a dogs bad behavior before society deems them a risk and I'm sure you all know what happens then." The black-haired man made a gun motion with his hand and Yunho immediately flopped onto his back, tongue out as he stayed still, playing dead,

Yeosang strolled past the dog before he patted his own thigh, giving him a treat as Yunho immediately rolled back onto his paws and appeared at his side.

“The best thing that can prevent a dog biting or fighting incident is proper training of both the owners and their canines. And that’s why you all are with me.”

San watched, chewing quietly as Yeosang walked back and forth past his class. He could see some people listening with rapt attention-he was one of them-while others rolled their eyes, surely thinking the trainer was "over dramatic".

Wooyoung took a sip from his mason jar, leaning on San as he spoke quietly.

"Yeosang really loves dogs. Training is his passion. It pisses me off that some of them think this is a game." He muttered. San chewed thoughtfully and watched as Yunho sat dutifully in the same spot, despite all of the dogs and people in the training ring.

At one point, the giant dog’s eyes move towards them, there is a subtle wag to his tail, but he remains unmoving.

The two watch while whispering, not wanting to disturb the dogs or their owners. Yeosang’s face remains calm, yet authoritative as he trains, never raising his voice over a certain volume, every movement and instruction precise and to the point.

San found himself unable to tear his eyes off of him. Wooyoung is the same.

“Today’s lesson is over. Report cards will be sent out by the end of the day for the lesson’s progress, along with ‘homework’. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any questions between now and our next lesson.”

Wooyoung finally stood as the group began to filter out, leashing up their dogs and dispersing while talking amongst themselves. San is right behind him, though both of them hang back as one of the trainees walked up to Yeosang, smiling handsomely at him.

“I really appreciate your lesson, Yeosang-nim~ With your help, Coco and I will be just as impressive as you and Yunho in no time.” He grinned, holding a pomeranian under his arm. Yeosang glanced and then crossed his arm.

“Remember my lesson about the detriments of carrying your dogs unless necessary, Lee-nim. You do not want to give Coco a complex by always carrying her just because she is small.”

Lee nodded, though he didn’t seem too interested in what Yeosang was saying, rather, his eyes subtly combing over his face, and chest, and even darting down to admire his abs once he stood back up after setting Coco down.

San pursed his lips, a small nagging in the back of his mind as he watched the two.

Agitation.

“You’re the best teacher I’ve seen in this place, Sang-nim. Could I ask you out for dinner as a thanks?” He inquired, his eyebrows going up flirtatiously.

Yeosang blinked, the calm expression on his face shifting ever so slightly to one of surprise before suddenly Wooyoung tossed an arm over Yeosang’s shoulder, dangling off of the man’s side and smiling with a tilt to his head.

“Sorry! We have some food for Yeosangie already. Dinner too, we’ve already made plans for him.”

Yeosang looked at him, his face didn’t betray the confusion he felt, and Wooyoung was grateful, his eyes never leaving Lee’s face.

He could see the way the shorter man’s eyes narrowed subtly before he sniffed, wiping his nose.

“Oh, next time, then, Sangie-nim .” His voice dripped in the untold challenge, and then he turned and headed out of the training ring, his Pomeranian following at his side with hurried footsteps.

Wooyoung didn’t take his eyes off of him until he was out of view, muttering in displeasure.

“I don’t like him.”

“Since when did we have dinner plans?” Yeosang inquired, the neutral expression of his face changing into a more casual, expressive one now that he wasn’t teaching.

“Since just now because that guy is a creep. I mean, who asks out their tutor?” Wooyoung began rambling, never moving from his spot leaning on Yeosang. The slightly older man let him speak, calmly watching him with a smile on his face until San moved closer, drawing his attention.

He held up the box Wooyoung had left behind when he moved to his side, looking Yeosang in the eyes and smiling softly.

“You must be hungry. We made bento boxes for everyone. Even Yunho.” He offered, keeping his hand extended.

Yeosang looked at it for a beat longer than the others had, but then he took it, smiling softly.

“I see. That’s sweet of you. I appreciate it. Yunho-” Yeosang made a motion with his hand, and in a flash, Yunho’s massive form appeared, licking at both Wooyoung and San’s hand before sitting in front of his owner.

Yeosang gently moved away from Wooyoung, making sure he did not lose his balance before he crouched down to set up the food they had made for the canine first.

Wooyoung bent down, petting Yunho and cooing to him, eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah, Yuyu. That guy is stinky, anyway, you don’t want him taking your papa out to dinner either, do you?” He talked to the animal as if he were human. Yunho blinked at him, head tilting before he licked Wooyoung’s hand, as if that were the response to a command he hadn’t quite learned yet.

Yeosang-and San-glanced at him at the comment, yet neither said a word.

"I appreciate you for making a bento for me and including Yunho. Thank you, both of you." Yeosang bowed slightly, sitting with his legs crossed on the ground beside Yunho as he inspected the bento, a genuine, big smile coming to his face when he saw the small character they'd made out of the bento's contents, the floral-themed 'Hethetmon' staring back at him.

Wooyoung smiled triumphantly and watched as Yeosang ate.

"I knew you'd be more focused on training your classes than eating properly-again-so we put extra in yours."

Yeosang chewed thoughtfully, humming.

"I guess I did forget."

San frowned and put a hand on his hip, looking at the man in disapproval.

"You can't forget things like that, Yeosang-ah. Your health is important. Please take care of yourself."

Yeosang’s gaze shifted to him, calm, yet doe-like and for a second, San could swear he felt a sound akin to a fax machine struggling to work in his brain.

He and Wooyoung have such pretty eyes.

San panicked, tripping over his own words as he quickly added; "Besides, who's going to take care of Yunho when you get sick?"

Yeosang hummed quietly before nodding, petting the canine as he finished his dog-safe bento.

"Probably Soobin."

Wooyoung let out a scandalized gasp.

"You didn't even hesitate! What about me!?"

"Wooyoung, I don't trust you with my plants , I damn sure aren't trusting you with my dog."

Wooyoung clung to his chest, falling to his knees dramatically.

"See that, San? We make him a beautiful lunch, and he wounds me! Blasphemy! Gimme back my damn food, then!"

Yeosang smiled, and it reached his eyes, a spark of mischief in it as he started eating noticeably faster. Wooyoung narrowed his gaze and lunged at him half-heartedly, though he tumbled a bit too far forward, falling on top of Yeosang and nearly knocking the food out of his hand as he moved to catch him.

The two lay on each other in an awkward heap. Wooyoung went beet red to his ears, his face entirely too close to Yeosang’s as he tried to gather his bearings.

What San had believed to be Yeosang’s "normal" deadpan calm around Wooyoung’s shenanigans was broken in an instant, his face dark red as he stared at him, mouth agape.

The two stared at each other like deer in headlights, and San was certain neither of them were actually breathing .

Hell, he didn't know if he was.

But he recovered first-naturally, he wasn't directly involved, after all-and he spoke first.

"Are you two okay?"

Wooyoung swallowed thickly, sitting up and clearing his throat.

“Y-yeah- sorry I didn’t mean to knock you over-”

Yeosang cleared his throat, sitting up and speaking quietly.

“I’m okay…don’t worry.” He muttered, eating with his head down. Wooyoung bit his lip and looked at San with an almost sheepish expression.

“We’ll go on ahead. I’ll make a big dinner. You can stop by if you have time. Okay?” he offered, pausing to wait for an answer. He got a small nod in response, as Yeosang found his gaze transfixed on the meal in his slightly shaking hand.

Wooyoung laced his fingers in with San’s, and the countryman couldn’t help but to notice the small amount of clamminess to them.

San waved goodbye, pulling him outside.

The two walked in silence until they got home.

Wooyoung came to a stop before they got to the door, his eyebrows pulled up. San looked back at him.

“Wooyoung?”

“I’m…sorry.”

San felt the heaviness in his tone and turned his full attention towards him.

“Why?”

“I…God, I’m such a horrible boyfriend, aren’t I? It looks like I’m throwing myself at him and I…I swear I’m not trying to be disrespectful to you, I love you, I just-I have these habits that die hard and around Yeosang I-”

“-you still love him.”

Wooyoung’s fingers twitched in San’s grip. He didn’t meet his gaze, but San could see the storm settling on his face. He didn’t deny the statement, and while his gaze was fixed on the ground, tears welled up in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m such a shitty boyfriend.”

San pursed his lips and gently twisted his hand out of Wooyoung’s grip. Wooyoung took the action as a rejection and slumped his shoulders.

San didn’t want the miscommunication to escalate, so he wrapped his arms around Wooyoung, pulling him into a strong hug.

“Please answer me honestly. Do you love me?”

“Of course I do! I-”

San pushed forward.

“Do you love Yeosang, still?”

“.....”

“Wooyoung, I need you to be honest with me. I have never told you a lie since we met, just answer me.”

“...yes.”

San caressed his cheeks as he sobbed, holding his wrists. Wooyoung looked torn up as he stood in front of him, hiccuping as tears ran down his cheek. The empathetic part of San felt his own eyes water at seeing him like this.

The other part, felt relief.

San kissed the top of his head.

“So, what’s wrong with that?”

Wooyoung nearly didn’t hear him. Between his hiccups and sobs, San’s calm voice was nearly drowned out.

“W-what?”

“So what, you love him. You also love me. And I have never doubted that from the day you told me for the first time.”

Wooyoung looked at him, still crying, though he’d been shocked out of saying anything further. San ran his thumb over his eyes, humming quietly.

“A…aren’t you mad?”

“Wooyoung, I have had a lot of time to think about this since we got here, hell, since you told me back in Namhae. And you know what? No. I’m not. It’s not such a scary concept, you loving him as well. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flooded with tears as he squeezed San tight, sobbing into his shoulder as they stood in the doorway of their home.

He felt selfish, he felt anxious, he felt like he was stabbing his love in the back.

And yet, those few words, they calmed the chaotic waters of his mind, a lifted weight from his chest.

Wooyoung loved San. He loved Yeosang. He’d convinced himself long ago that he’d never get to truly share his love with Yeosang as deeply as it ran, but this alone, brought him solace.

San ran his hands through Wooyoung’s hair, kissing him softly.

His boyfriend was plenty overwhelmed right now.

San didn’t feel it appropriate to mention the other thing tumbling around in his mind.

That he also felt a subtle pull he’d felt before.

With the boy he’d invited to the festival, with Wooyoung.

Now, with Yeosang.

The undeniable tug at his heart; yearning.

Instead, he guided Wooyoung into their home, the chill of the October air reminding them that they were, in fact, still outside. He brought him over to the couch, sitting him down and pulling him into his arms once more, just rocking with the man and letting him cry.

Wooyoung ended up laying in his arms, the energy expelled from his episode leaving him asleep in San's embrace, cheeks still red. San carried him upstairs, tucking him into bed with a kiss to his head before he sighed and moved downstairs to cook on his own.

He made a quick stir fry, thankful for all the cooks he had in his immediate circle that he got to study from. San was sure he wouldn't be able to do half the technical things he'd learned to do from them on his own.

San headed back upstairs once he was finished, casting a small glance over his shoulder at the front door.

Yeosang hadn't stopped by.

San pushed back the sadness he felt and instead focused on not tripping with him and Wooyoung’s food on the platter the two of them bought for their home.

Wooyoung perked when he entered the room, the scent waking him in an instant.

"San…? Oh- shit, I fell asleep? I was supposed to help, I'm sorry!”

“Shh, it's not much but it should be enough to get a full, happy belly,” San told him, handing him his plate first. Wooyoung tiredly ate, for once not filling the silence with any animated talking or anything of the sort.

San didn't press him on it, eating just as quietly and cleaning up shortly afterwards.

When he came back to the room for the second time, he found Wooyoung dozing, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. He reached for him, making a small noise as San laced their fingers together and climbed into bed with him.

He stared at San for a while, his blinks getting noticeably longer as his breathing began to even out.

"I love you." He tiredly muttered, finally closing his eyes to rest for the night. San kissed his head and held him close.

"I love you too." San chuckled softly and nosed his hair, just listening to his heartbeat and breathing.

They stayed like that until San felt his own eyes getting heavy, and soon he, too, fell asleep.

Despite the high-strung emotions of the evening, he found that his mind wasn’t quite done running amok.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

. . . . .

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Show me your face, beautiful.”

San moved closer to the bed, cupping Wooyoung’s face lovingly. Wooyoung looked up, lips stained ruby red.

They’re smudged, right in the corner.

Bite marks trail down his neck, and he leans into San’s hand, keening as he kisses his palm. There’s melted love shining in his eyes as he sat up higher on his knees to kiss him. San caressed him, pulling him flush against his bigger body, making sure he felt how excited he’d become in the time they’d spent in there.

Then, another voice.

“Starting without me? You’re really spoiling him.”

San cracked his eyes open, exhaling sharply when his eyes locked onto another’s, a chin suddenly resting on Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“Yeosang,” he breathed, eyeing the man with an undeniable want rumbling in his voice. Yeosang smiled, a calm devilish vibe to counter Wooyoung’s needy squirming and panting between them.

His lips were swollen from kisses, a telltale smear of red on them.

It went without question where they came from, as he got his answer to the unasked statement moments later when Wooyoung turned his head, his neck bared as he kissed him.

It was needy, near desperate, and San felt himself throbbing with need, grinding on Wooyoung’s thigh. Wooyoung moaned into his kiss, flexing his thigh one moment and pressing his ass back the next.

Yeosang broke the kiss and pushed him forward just enough to press him flush against San, catching the slightly younger man’s attention before he pulled him in for a kiss, capturing his lips with the same hunger he did Wooyoung’s.

San felt a spark run up and down his body. His hips jerk and he buck as Wooyoung teased his nipples with his thumbs, mouthing at his neck and creating more ruby-red smears.

He was melting. San felt like he was going to slip through the sheets in a puddle, especially when they switched positions, and suddenly he was in the middle, with both Wooyoung and Yeosang grinding and humping his thighs.

“Sorry for the mess~” Wooyoung half-heartedly apologized, leaving a glistening trail of precum on San’s thigh as he hugged his waist. San opened his mouth to respond, but was met with the sound of his own jerky moan as Yeosang wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking him.

“Oh, I’m not. I’m going to make sure you make an even bigger one.” he promised, looking him in the eyes. San gasped and bucked into his hand before whimpering when his chin was grabbed by the man.

His hair was down, fluffy and wild as he looked him in the eyes.

“Hang on a bit longer, darling. After all, we have to keep you nice and hard for our Woo-ya, don’t we?” He purred into his ear, nipping his lobe as San nearly came in his hand. Wooyoung keened in excitement beside them, trading kisses between both of their chests before he moved to their lips, hovering over them both.

San wondered what it would feel like to share a kiss. It probably would be messy between the three of them.

He wanted it. Found himself leaning in for it.

He’s so close-

“Sannie?”

San jolted, eyes opening in an instant before he hissed and shut them, feeling the sunlight stream directly into them. He groaned and opened them back once he’d raised his arm, squinting to find Wooyoung peering up at him.

His eyes were still puffy from crying, and his face a bit swollen, but San was happy to see he’d gotten some color back to his cheeks.

“Good morning.” San groggily muttered. Wooyoung glanced down between them without saying a word before he looked up at him once more, slow blinking.

“I bet it is. Did you sleep well?”

It took San a moment to realize what he meant. He got his answer mere moments later when he felt the telltale throbbing between his legs as Wooyoung raised his thigh between them.

He went beet red and Wooyoung smiled softly, kissing his nose.

“Do you need a hand? Is it okay if I help?” He inquired. There was a hesitation in his tone that made San sober up from his flushed state for a moment. Wooyoung had certainly been worried still, and it was to be expected.

San didn’t like all the apprehension his boyfriend was beginning to feel around him, however.

Instead, he cupped his face, looking into his eyes. The same ones that always looked at him so full of bold love and mischievous energies now held a worried edge to them as Wooyoung put his hand over San’s, waiting.

“I don’t want to do anything like that while you’re worried about me being mad at you. If we do anything intimate, it should be because we both want to feel good, not because you feel you have to or need to.”

Wooyoung’s lips parted as if he was going to protest the notion before he stopped, thought about it, and nodded. He seemed to think about it in earnest before he scooted closer to San, kissing him gently.

“I want to.”

San fixed him in place with a heated, half-lidded stare, before he pulled him into his lap, stealing a kiss and squeezing Wooyoung’s ass until there was no space left between the two of them.

Wooyoung’s arms wrapped lazily around his shoulders, kissing him with a slow, almost methodical pace. San didn’t mind, nor did he rush, sighing into the kiss and leaning against the headboard. The two of them messily pushed their pajama pants down, haphazardly discarding it elsewhere in the bed.

With freedom of movement now, Wooyoung placed his palm on San’s chest, lightly raking his nails down his pectoral as he kissed down his neck, rolling his slender hips down. He could feel San’s cock smearing precum over his own and a thrum of excitement ran up and down his spine when he chanced a glance up, finding San leveling him with his signature feline narrowed gaze. His jaw locked ever so slightly as big, calloused hands cupped his ass to pull him flush against him once more and control their pace and movement.

Wooyoung held his gaze, though he felt the heat creep up his neck as San tilted his chin up ever so slightly, eyes combing over his frame before landing back on his face, lips quirking ever so slightly at the shiver the simple motion caused in his boyfriend.

“When you look at me like that, I lose my train of thought.”

“I’m more than happy to take over, then. You can sit back and let me do it.”

Simple, it was so simple, yet those words made Wooyoung shudder even more as he licked suddenly dry lips. He rolled them until San was on top, his hair splayed around on the pillow like a silken halo.

San kissed down his neck and torso, pushing his thighs apart and making him hold them open as he fished around for the lube in their nightstand. He made a mental note they needed to buy more later before he coated his fingers, teasing his rim as he nipped his pelvis.

“You're trembling in anticipation.”

Wooyoung looked away, cheeks strawberry-tinted as he fumbled in his attempt to catch his breath. San smiled and got in his face, turning his face so he met his eyes.

“Don’t look away.”

Wooyoung shuddered and rolled his tongue over the inside of his cheek. Neither man said anything and eventually, Wooyoung tilted his head up, lips brushing over San’s jaw.

“I won’t, then.”

He didn’t keep his voice down the second time around, moaning as San meticulously stretched him open, leaving love bites and kisses all over his shoulders and neck.

San stopped when Wooyoung’s hand flew down to his wrist, gripping tight as he shuddered, meeting his eyes as he panted.

“I can’t- I’ll cum-”

San smiled, rewarding him with a kiss, slicking himself up.

Wooyoung wiggled in impatient anticipation beneath him, eventually wrapping his arms around his neck as he felt San finally press against him, both of his palms pressed at either side of his head. Wooyoung nearly bit back the moan of delight that tumbled out of his mouth as San pressed into him. His mouth fell open instead, a moan of wanton abandon rumbling out of his throat as he rolled his hips down, urging San deeper.

The slightly older man fisted the sheets near his head, hips rolling down with slow, practiced motions. He’d knew Wooyoung’s body better than his own in this regard in the very short time they’d had together.

The wicked little devil on his shoulder reminded him of flashes of his dream, a certain dog trainer’s hands running up and down his body as he thrusted into Wooyoung.

Maybe it was heat of the moment, maybe it was the fog of his somewhat sleep-riddled brain, but San found himself slipping up as Wooyoung moaned for him.

“San~ San, faster, please -”

“So fucking pretty for us- ”

Wooyoung looked up at him, blinking in confusion before he choked on a moan as San’s cock curved just right.

“W-what-”

San felt his cheeks growing hot, but he bit his lip, leaning down so Wooyoung’s couldn’t see his face-hypocritical, he knew, but he worried if he held his gaze, he’d falter in his words.

He already slipped, might as well continue letting his thoughts freefall.

“Do you want to know what my dream was about?” He growled, sucking at a yet-to-be-marked part of Wooyoung’s neck. He whimpered and gasped, trying to look at him. San sped up instead, distracting him with every pleasurable brush to his prostate.

“S-San-? Fuck! Wait fuck, I c-can’t think straight if you’re-fucking hitting it so much, shit -”

San slowed to a stop, growling and swearing underneath his breath as he looked at Wooyoung. The young chef panted, eyes glazed over and slightly frustrated at the loss. He looked up at San, searching his eyes.

“What did you d-dream about that was so good you’re bringing it up now?” He huffed, partially teasing him and partially urging him to take the hint and keep thrusting. His hand moved up to cup San’s cheek and instead, he felt him wrap his fingers around his wrist, kissing his palm as he looked into his eyes.

“Yeosang was there. The way he touched both of us was addicting.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, his lips parting as he clenched slightly. San’s eyes narrowed as he ran his teeth over his palm.

“You clenched. Does it turn you on that I had that kind of dream? With both of you in it?”

Wooyoung shuddered, searching San’s face for any signs of dishonesty. Naturally, there were none, and San took the time to resume thrusting, keeping his pace deep and slow so Wooyoung could hear everything he had to say.

“I never…mm, minded you liking him so much but I can see why you do. You two have good chemistry, darling.”

Wooyoung’s fingers flexed along his cheek, his other weaving into his hair as the words made his cheeks darken San’s satoori bounced around his head like a hymn, and Wooyoung felt his mind swirl, a spark of hope and desire in the muddied thoughts.

“Do you think you’d try to hide your moans more or less if he was here too, touching you with me? Do you think you’d try and talk back to him while you kiss, only to crumble mid-way because my cock feels too good and you can’t focus?”

“San, oh my god- ” Wooyoung clenched again, tugging San’s hair to ground himself as San suddenly sped up, growling in need. The bed rocked below them, the headboard hitting the wall at an off-tempo pace as San’s hands ran all up and down Wooyoung’s body.

“Keep moanin’. You sound so pretty like that, baby. You’ll drive us crazy.”

Wooyoung clenched tighter, closing his eyes. The room had begun the spin from how hot he was, his thighs shaking as he listened to San purr his fantasy out to him.

It made him throb, his cock red and hard as a rock against his abdomen as he imagined Yeosang’s soft fingers all over his body, contrasting with San’s rough work-worn ones.

Wooyoung looked up at him, eyes begging, though all that fell from his lips were disjointed and desperate pleas for more.

“S-San-! San I c-can’t, I-I need to cum, please, please- ”Wooyoung’s voice was airy and desperate as his eyes rolled back, the lube making a slick mess between his cheeks. San laced their fingers together and kissed him, claiming every inch of his mouth as he rocked forward, hell-bent on making him fall apart first.

“D-Do you think Yeosang would go wild listening to you moan like this? Mm?”

That seemed to do it for Wooyoung, and he threw his head back with a shaky gasp and moan, thick spurts of cum making a mess of both his and San’s abdomens. San kissed him, languidly mapping out every part of Wooyoung’s mouth as he came inside, purring sweet nothings against his lips.

It took the two longer than usual to come down from the adrenaline of their lovemaking, but when they did, Wooyoung pulled back first, looking up at San with flushed cheeks and a curious slow blink.

“So that was…something.”

San cleared his throat and blushed, looking back down at him. While a moment ago he spoke with a deep satoori purr and a seductive smile, now he was speaking airily and softly as the reality of their encounter sunk in.

“I think I like Yeosang too.”

Wooyoung blinked at him, lips parting.

“...wait that wasn’t just you teasing me?”

San flushed darker and hid his face in Wooyoung’s shoulder, muttering incoherently. Wooyoung combed his fingers through pastel pink locks and kissed San’s jaw, his heart fluttering.

“How about we get cleaned up? We can talk about it when you’re ready…?” He left the sentence open-ended and waited for a moment, smiling and laughing quietly at the small nod that followed a few moments later.

“Breakfast first?” San muttered. Wooyoung laughed, his eyes crinkling with joy.

“Breakfast first.”

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

T a g l i s t

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

@kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @angel0taiyo @jacksons-goddess-gaia @gettin-a-lil-hanse @smallfrye @daniblogs164 @yunhofingers @eversionic @itsatinyworld @unatempesta-dipensieri @lonely10vely @yunhosblackgf @not-majestic-bluenicorn @moonmin-miya @snowstaytiny @delphinium3000 @just-a-starfruit @skmoonchild @allthestarsrcloser @im-what-iam @stayatinyfics @kirisimpma @chaos-ground-writing @stormiestories @billboard-singer @asyamonet22 @perfectlysane24 @drunk-on-hwa @shingisimp @xuxibelle @twistedsiren @dreamyinception-world @justatiredhuman @horizonmoonfics @shymexican @stardragongalaxy @sunny-yourbuddy @eribear23 @seomisaho @spooo00oky

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witchofthesouls · 1 year

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I think we're underutilizing EM fields in TF in general. I mean, we got the romantic and plantonic ways down, but:

EM fields are one of their basic communication skills, so are there differences between age groups and classes? Like newsparks and sparklings with spikey fluctuations and pure, simple emotions; emotional regulation classes/mentoring groups/buddy systems for newbuilds because it must be intense to suddenly come to life and then having to deal with everyone else around you on top of your own newfound feelings; city-states with Rules and Regulations on how, what, and when to interact as well as cultural differences and stereotypes.

(Example: Seekers are considered violent with animalistic tendencies because they mob. You don't mess with one. They group together to stand cohesively. Whereas Seekerkin look down/pity other frames for their loneliness, for how fragility of their social ties.)

We have neutral body language and expressions as well as "resting bitch face" and the "murder walk," so similar ways with fields?

Do certain castes/professions need certain training or Forged mecha have the innate talent to use their EM fields in a particular way that's a boon to their work?

The jarring sensation of someone immediately disappearing from close, personal range

Would Cybertronians find it terrifying to find a space that suddenly became quiet and silenced in every single way?

The immense clash by someone that severely outclasses you, being crushed beneath the wave of their own superiority and dismissal or sucked down in a whirlpool of pure terror (similar to killing intent in Naruto)

#transformers #communication styles #cybertronian language #cybertronian biology #cybertronian culture #my thoughts #my writing #maccadam

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sheriffopossum · 1 year

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Nellie stood in disbelief as Clover walked back into the main room where everyone anxiously awaited. Just earlier she was a cold corpse, bleeding out on the table, still as death, and yet there she was now as though none of that ever happened. Nellie wasn't real familiar with science or medicine, but even she knew that that wasn't normal.

Clover spoke to the group delicately, obviously picking her words carefully. She talked about the charity that night, how it was a test to see if the Darlings would strike, how she risked her own life to see how far they would go. She started to say how she couldn't give any answers which finally burst the dam of questions, filling the room. Nellie watched as Clover raised her hand, quickly silencing the onslaught.

Clover's voice wavered just slightly as she spoke about the reality they were in: the Darlings would hunt each member of their ragtag group without second thought. What she said next though, nearly took Nellie's breath away.

"You can come back, just like how you saw me do it," echoed in Nellie's head repeatedly. Come...back? From death, as though it were some cool party trick? She knew that members of the Darlings had some uncanny ability to do so even after being completely torn to pieces, but she figured there was some strange dark magic at play there. Now the same thing was being offered to her?

"So, are you with me?" Clover asked, snapping Nellie out of her daze.

She gripped her walking cane tightly as she furrowed her eyebrows together. Well, she thought, looks like it's now or never.

"Clover, do you remember the day I accepted your proposal?" Nellie began, slowly taking a step forward. Clover stood still as a statue, her expression neutral as the company's arms dealer moved closer.

"I certainly do, dear," Clover replied wearily, folding her arms across her chest. "You said that I was crazy--"

"I said that you was the craziest, most batshit insane person to go against THE most powerful mob in the city, hell probably the whole country!" Nellie finished for her, her southern drawl honeying each syllable. She stood before the group's leader, looking up as she planted a hand on her hip.

"But, I also said that you gave me hope. Hope that I haven't felt in years," Nellie added, her facial features softening. "I gave up hope in ever getting my brother back from those twisted bastards, just accepting that he was gone forever. But you, YOU ignited that fire back in my heart, that determination to git my Bubba back home, that he's not a lost cause."

Nellie paused, looking deeply up at Clover. Her words were softer this time, as she lifted her hand up to place on her leader's shoulder.

"Family sticks together, and I ain't about to be no bitch and run off with my tail between my legs." She gave a playful wink and smiled.

"Whatever voodoo-hoodoo shit you got cooked up, well count me in. I already got a target on my back for betraying the Darlings like I did, ain't no way in hell I'd be able to outrun them, and I fer sure ain't about to give up the chance to make a difference in this city and everyone who's been fucked by them assholes.

"Ride or die, partner. And seems like you got something to say about the dyin' part." --------------------------- ;AKSJDFLAJS;DLFJALSDKFALSDKF finally finished Nellie's reply to Clover's offer!!! I'm still not 100% happy with how the last panel turned out, but I already redid it at least 3 times so 😩 But yeah, looks like Nellie's on board the death-defying crazy train that Clover's conducting. So excited to see what happens next 💛

Clover belongs to @chimeracarnival Mob!AU belongs to @clownsuu Wonder who that mysterious brother Nellie mentioned is whoooooOoooOooo 👀

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bookishdream · 2 years

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wooden swords

Hi, long time no see :<<. But here I come, after a break, hopefully with some new ideas and a fresh head for sure!

Synopsis: just Kaz being a little annoying bitch, enjoy! CW: none <3

“You’re making it too easy for me, y/n” the infamous bastard of the barrel remarked, when yet again your wooden sword met his. You were out of breath, your lungs felt like they were on fire and every little movement tighten your muscles to an unbearable degree. “Live up to my expectations, love”

“I don’t think your ego fits in this hideous hat of yours anymore, Brekker” you took a step back, preparing yourself for the next hit. Your feet firmly planted on the ground, back straightened and every single muscle tensed. You lift the weapon again, concentrating and trying to foresee his next move.

You had been training with Kaz, Dirtyhands Brekker for quite some time. Your first encounter was a rough one, to say at least. You had been brought up in Novyziem and after your parents had thrown you out, with only the clothes on your back, you’d thought that Ketterdam would be a marvelous idea to start all over again. Little did you know that it was a place the devil himself was scared to visit. Or on the contrary, lived in, you still weren’t sure whether Kaz was The Devil.

When the ship you’d been on finally finished his journey, you’d been more than frightened. Immediately, you’d felt shivers, your anxiety had risen and you’d been off to look for a shelter. After the most tiring wandering, you had noticed a nice clothed gentleman, his attire black, as had been his awful hat. The only sound that could’ve been heard was a systematical clicking of his cane, which also looked quite expensive. Your eyes sharpened, the gears in your mind working quickly, thinking about the most efficient way to obtain some cash, the gentleman looked as an easy target.

You’d followed him for what felt like every single damn street and nook of Ketterdam, when eventually you’d got close enough to slip your palm into his pocket and–

“What are you doing, exactly?” the rough material of his glove had connected with your thin wrist, with only one move he could’ve snapped it in half, leaving you with only one good hand. He didn’t look old, nor did he look young. His expression dark and steady, making you shiver. “Do you think of me that low to assume I wasn’t aware of you following me?”

“Honestly, I found you as stupid as any other merchant in this city” you’d tried to keep a calm face and a steady voice, but your breath had been coming out sharply, betraying your calm demeanour. “Your hat is what makes you look foolish”

His eyes had glowed dangerously at your remark, and you wished you hadn’t spoken a word. Then he smirked. “You have potential, let’s go.” started walking, leaving you alone in the middle of a dark alley. A dark shape had run in front of your feet, making you squeak, and you quickly had caught up with the mysterious boy. But it was a long time ago, almost a year had passed since Kaz Brekker had let you stay with the Dregs.

“Y/n, please, we all know that my hats make you swoon” he smirked, paring his sword with yours. Again. You cursed, pushing harder, which came out as fruitless, since Kaz hit your weapon, making you hiss out of pain and let it fall. “I thought I told you not to play with sharp objects”

“It’s not sharp, you–“ your words cut short, as you felt the tip of his sword on your throat. You swallowed and looked him in the eyes.

“Do not use this language, young lady.”

“We’re the same age.”

“I’m two months older.” his smirk was still on his face, making you really tempted to wipe it off, the sword still unmoving. “Hence, my word is the last word”

He let the sword fall on the ground with a small thud, putting his fallen hat back on his head. Kaz turned around, taking a few steps ahead. You, on the other hand, lifted the sword from the dirty street and aimed it at his back, jabbing him in his very expensive and pricey coat. “Never turn your back, unless your opponent is dead. That was the first thing you taught me.” It was your turn to smile, just a little.

Kaz showed you his profile, his cheekbones were highlighted by the warm glow of the street lamps. A little smile was playing in the corners of his lips. “Good job, y/n. Now let’s go and drink, it’s freezing”

#kaz brekker imagine #kaz soc #soc kaz #kaz brekker x reader #kaz my beloved #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone

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colderdrafts · 1 year

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17: Happy reunion

The Great Assembly, gender neutral reader x monster (male naga). Sfw. Previous Next

Sunday comes around, and Elise drives you and Amren into town early in the morning. It's pretty quiet with only a few pedestrians mulling about for a morning stroll. Elise waves you goodbye.

"I'd hug ya for good luck, but we can't let the bitch smell me on you," she says, and then looks to Amren. "You best do your job here, Mr. Grumpy."

He waves her off, irritably flicking the tip of his tail. "You tend to forget that I'm a trained professional. I know what I'm doing."

"That's because you're not very good at showing it. But good!" Elise turns and walks away before Amren can retort. "Stay safe."

You made sure to part with Elise a good ways from the cafe, and start walking there. The closer you get, the more your feet seemingly starts dragging, hesitating as if walking to the scaffold. You feel a by now familiar knot form in the pit of your stomach, and your mouth feels dry.

"Deep breaths," Amren offers in a quiet voice, sensing your unease.

"No need to be nervous. It's only been a few days. Considering last we met, we - well, I-" he trails off, and sighs. Almost crushed her to death? "She'd be a fool to fight again so soon. We're all still healing."

You nod, swallowing the sour taste in your mouth. "I know. It's just, what if she's got backup too? What if I don't get anything from this conversation? If this goes wrong, I’m not sure what else I can do to help Irwin."

"We don't have resources for what-if's right now, Tiny. Stay in the moment."

It's not exactly helpful to your current emotional state.

The quiet city streets stretches before you, the scent of pavement and fresh morning bread from the bakeries starting today's business lingering in the air. As you walk it gently gives way from the wind and the taste of sea salt as you approach the harbor.

You round the corner of a tattoo shop and into the open, with a view of your destination. Your chest feels like it's caving in on itself.

There she is.

Mira is sitting on a comfortable garden chair in the sun outside the cafe, looking over the boats coming in and out of the harbor. She's enjoying a cup of coffee, looking like the most regular person in the world. She's wearing a large sweater, and you surmise she's hiding some nasty bandaged wounds, courtesy of Amren, under it.

You watch as her nose suddenly dives into the air, and you swear you see her stiffen - before she looks over and spots you.

She waves you over, and smiles like she's genuinely excited to see you.

You don't return it as you cautiously step closer. You feel the comforting presence of Amren hovering right behind you, his body an unmovable obstacle for anything that would try to take advantage of your blind spots.

"Oh, I'm so happy you showed! And right on time!" she greets you warmly, and motions for you to sit.

It's odd seeing her again, considering how things left off in the woods. Her friendly disposition doesn't give any clue of what has transpired between you. Her expressions lack the viciousness she displayed in the forest, expertly hidden away by a relaxed posture and calm eyes.

You glare at her and reluctantly take a seat opposite of her. Amren settles down on your left.

"Where's Irwin?" you ask as a greeting.

"So impatient! At least order some coffee!" Mira laughs. "We wouldn't want to look odd out here, would we? We're just friends having a chat."

Mira waves to someone inside, and a waiter comes out with a notepad. You do your best to seem relaxed, and place your order. Amren follows suit.

Mira politely thanks the waiter, and sniffs the air briefly at their departure. "And here I thought dear Irwin was your partner," she muses.

You frown at her. "What are you on about?"

"Well you just seemed so close at the lodge, aren't you partners?"

"That's really none of your business, is it?"

Mira laughs. "Oh, but it is! I wouldn't want to separate you two, oh no. You're so cute together!"

Your eyes harden. She's playing with you, tugging at your heart strings.

Mira turns her gaze on Amren. "But wow, you really don't waste any time, do you big guy?" she grins. "Worked out quite well for little solitary you, didn't it?'"

Amren regards her coolly, and leans forward, subtly baring a row of sharp teeth. "How are your ribs?" he hisses.

Mira's smile doesn't waver, but she can't hide the guarded snarl in her voice. "Much better."

The waiter comes back with your order, and a jolly "Enjoy!". You politely say thank you, but when you grab your drink you feel the tip of Amren's tail clench tightly around you ankle. You glance down and watch his hand doing a 'waving off' motion under the table.

Don't.

You put the drink on the table without sipping from it. If Mira notices, she doesn't comment.

Mira clasps her paws together. "So, now that we're all settled, how's this: You get to ask me something, and I get to ask you something. Sound fair?"

"Does that guarantee you'll give me a straight answer?" you deadpan.

"Will you?" she counters, sipping her coffee.

"Where's Irwin?" you ask again.

She sighs, putting the drink down. "He's with his new family, waiting for you to come along already. He misses you, you know. Having a bit of trouble adjusting without you. Talks about you when he sleeps and stuff. It's kinda cute."

You feel anger bubbling up inside, balling your fists. Keep cool. "And where does this family live?"

"A-bub-bub, that's two questions, it's my turn!" Mira wags a finger accusingly. "Now. Do you take any prescribed medications?"

Your utter bafflement must have shown, as Mira laughs heartily. "It's so much easier if you just tell me, dear."

"Why on Earth 2.0 would you want to know that?"

"To take better care of you, duh!"

You have no intention of telling her anything, the less she pries about your personal life the better.

But if you don't give her something she won't answer your next question. You settle for something simple. "I take something for seasonal allergies."

"Alright, duly noted," she doesn't look convinced, but doesn't press it. "And to your question, this family lives in a magnificent large house, with a wonderful view to a great open field. They even have their own lake. It's beautiful, and you're gonna love it."

"You say that like I'm going there," you reply.

"That's because if you want to see Irwin again, you will," she shrugs. "My turn. Do you have any hobbies? Something to do in your spare time?"

"What?"

"Hobbies!"

"Yeah I heard you, just - why?"

"Why not! We're just getting to know each other, right?"

"I'm trying to find out what you did to my friend!" you snarl at her.

"And I just told you! He's fine," she takes another sip of her coffee and settles the mug on the table. She looks at you expectantly. "I already know all about your work business, after all. Now. Hobbies?"

Like any regular person you like to indulge in some spare time fun, sure, but why does she want to know? What would that possibly give her?

You decide not to provide her.

"I don't have time for much besides work," you shrug. "It takes up my time."

Mira pouts. "Aw, that can't be true! Must be so boring. Come on, there must be something?”

"You got my reply. It’s my turn,” you assert.

She huffs, displeased, but she doesn’t fight you on it.

You think for a beat.

“Why me and Irwin?” you ask. “You could have targeted anyone, so why us?"

Mira smiles. "That's a good one! Well, put simply, you fit a description for someone my clientele was looking for is all - being a hum the most important part, obviously. Did you know your kind responds to magic differently? It's quite fascinating."

"Magic?" you frown at her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

She shrugs. "That part's not my paycheck. I just figure out who's a good match. Not any ol' hum would do, oh no.”

You cog a wary eyebrow at her, prompting an elaboration. She takes the encouragement, and gleefully continues;

“I saw you getting knocked over by your chaperon here, and when I reached out I instantly recognized the potential. You were so eager to just let bygones be bygones. Friendly, open minded to another person's struggles. Hell, when I watched you approach this jerk-," she motions at Amren, "to apologize after he knocked you down, I just knew. And then sweet Irwin? Glued to your side like a loyal lost puppy, and you just let him? Just an added bonus."

Mira leans forward toward you, and you instinctively lean back to gain some distance. She brandishes her canine fangs in a smile. "Put bluntly? You're so nice."

It’s not the first time you’ve heard that.

The way she says it like both praise and a mockery. It reminds you of how Amren used to talk about Elise, though from him it was general disdain, maybe even bordering on pity. Coming from Mira it speaks of opportunity, of taking advantage. It speaks of picking you up by the scruff of your neck and not expecting resistance. Of taking control.

Something about branding your ability to connect with others as a weakness is almost enough to make your blood boil.

"Oh, but don't feel bad! It's a virtue, really," she continues, smiling at something she sees in your expression. "Something I never want to take for granted, like many others do in this world. You hums are exceptionally good at this, so social. No stepping on anyone's toes now, hmm?"

She turns to Amren for a beat. His jaw is set like he's resisting every fiber in his body telling him to brutally sink his teeth into something.

"You know this too, don't you?" she asks him. "There's no instinct. No overpowering senses, no way to fight. The second they're on their own they're vulnerable."

"Wrong," Amren snarls. "They're highly resilient, and quite good at figuring out who to trust."

Mira barks a laugh. "Sure they are," she mocks. "Which is why they're sitting next to you? How are you handling things with that cute little temper of yours?"

Amren just looks at her unimpressed, refusing to let her get under his skin. Though his grip on your ankle tightens ever so slightly.

Seeing her taunt fall on deaf ears, she casually returns her attention to you. "Most of you are stubborn and sharp, sure, and it may take a while - but you're just not capable of resisting influence in the same way mons are. You only survive because you are so eager to connect. You just can't help yourselves and, eventually, you all break," she explains, gentle like a nurse handling an unruly patient. "I'm just here to help you pick up the pieces."

"And that's why you're taking us? That's so messed up," you whisper through gritted teeth. "This is so wrong. Why can't you see how wrong this all is?"

"Nothing wrong with bringing people closer together, so we can accommodate your weaknesses. Think of me as a matchmaker!"

"What are you gaining from all of this?" you demand. "Why would you ever do things like this? Money?"

You don't really want the answer. You don't particularly care for her monetary gains. But perhaps you just need something to make sense.

Mira nods at your interest. "The pay's good, sure, but that's not all. I also like when people can be happy with where they are. Isn't it so much better to stay in a safe environment with people who care about you? I just love that I can do that for you."

She actually looks convinced. Like she takes pride in all of this.

And you realize there’s nothing for you to gain here.

Why would you ever agree to this? She's clearly out of her mind. You've just put yourself in danger again for no reason. No way would she ever tell you exactly where to find your friend, this was just an opportunity for her to manipulate you again. It's not a trap in the sense of an ambush, but a trap none the less.

You grab Amren’s hand under the table and give it a firm squeeze. He squeezes back.

"We're done," Amren says at once, moving to get up and gently pulling you with him.

Mira looks at him surprised, before her eyes narrow to slits. "And who are you to decide that, you stinky overgrown lizard? You don't know if my friend here has more questions!"

"We're done," he repeats harshly. "And they're not your friend. You are disgusting, and you're lucky we're in public so I don't finish what I started."

"I'm lucky my friend here had the decency to stop you," she snarls at him, and then regards you fondly. "You didn't even think, did you? You just knew you didn't want me to die. You saved my life! How could I not consider you a friend?"

You get up without a word. Your legs quiver as you step over the chair.

Mira gets up too, and steps to the side, watching you mournfully. Amren strategically places himself between you and her as you move, forcing Mira to take a step back, or be in proximity of his deadly grip once again.

You vaguely note you have once again attracted curious glances from people around.

Mira notices too, looking around. She sighs, looking past Amren at you.

"I'm not going to stop you if you want to go again right now. But I do hope you'll reconsider very soon," she pulls out a phone and types something. There's a buzz in your pocket from Irwin’s phone. "Call this number when you're ready to come home."

"They won't," Amren promises, and gently but firmly starts leading you away, hand resting on your shoulder.

"Don't let this snake do the same to you as everyone else," Mira calls after you as you step away. "Don't let him take advantage of you!"

Amren glares daggers at her as you step out. You can feel the tension under his skin as he speeds up, quickly putting as much distance between you two and Mira as possible. You try not to be too bothered by the worried stares of the people you pass by. It must look odd, a furious naga practically dragging a human through the town.

After a few minutes you've gained some distance, sheltered in between the protective walls of a side street. Amren leans down toward you.

"There's no way she or someone with her is not following us," he mutters to you, still keeping up the speed. "We'll have to go somewhere else for the time being. We can't let her know where we've been staying."

"Can we slow down?" you hiss. "My legs are fucking jelly."

He huffs, but slows down to a tolerable pace. "I wanted to put some distance between us. She'll overhear anything otherwise."

"Can you tell if she's close by?" you ask.

He glances around, tasting the air. "Within earshot, I think. I don't know exactly how good coyote audition is, but I'm assuming better than most," he raises his voice slightly. "But she should be aware I will know if she tries to sneak up on us."

You're about to suggest you go find Elise, but close your mouth and shake your head. You pull out your phone instead, and type in a message for him to read. Should we go find Elise?

He takes your phone and types a reply. Not yet. Need to be sure they've gone.

Let's go to my apartment, then. They already know about that, but no way they'll hear us in there.

He nods.

You keep a brisk pace through the city in a somber silence. You do your best to keep your head down, but you still feel like everyone around you is looking you over more than once. Keeping an eye on you. The curious stares makes you want to hide somewhere.

You miss Irwin in moments like these. He'd have some sort of ridiculous quip at the ready to bring you out of the dark thoughts, easy as pie. You glance at your current escort, sharp eyes narrowed and constantly scanning around the area, his general aura suggesting he's ready to tear someone to bits.

It’s a little other than from what you’re used to when walking down these streets.

Though, despite the haphazard situation, and the off-putting hostile look on his face, there's a safety in knowing he's on the offense like this for your sake. You've no doubt Amren can smell your fear, and is responding to it in the only way he knows how.

You put a hand on his arm, and he glances at you briefly.

He doesn't have the resources for emotional alleviation, but he has it for a defensive reassurance. And perhaps that works just as well in this situation.

It seems Mira kept her word, as no one has approached you since the cafe, and Amren has not picked up on anything lurking in the shadows. It's not a guarantee of your safety yet, but it's a reprieve that allows you to calm down a bit as you walk. At a certain point, and at your stern complaint, Amren stops partially dragging you, and starts slithering next to you instead, mumbling a small apology. Seems the brisk pace helped him clear his head as well.

Not too long later you reach the edge of the street where you managed to rent a small apartment when you first moved here.

Entering the complex, you try your best to ignore the intense eye of someone sitting in a car nearby.

You let Amren in the hallway, and hurry toward your door, eager to see your home after quite a while longer than you had first anticipated apart. There's always a sense of relief associated with coming home to something familiar.

As you stalk the hallways of the complex, you realize the house-guest you've brought over is still keenly staring at and seemingly judging the area, as if assessing the integrity of the walls. You suppress a chuckle, and unlock the door for him.

You apartment is a three-room you got lucky with. It's not exactly luxury, but it's a roof over your head and a safe space from the troubles of the world, and the things you mostly wish to forget.

Well, it used to be.

The second you step inside, you note something is wrong. There's a specific stale smell of a place that has not been utilized for more than a week, though you note some of your items are out of place. You hold out an arm to stop Amren before he goes in further.

"Someone's been in here," you mutter, looking around.

You must have looked ridiculously paranoid, seeing as you haven't even been inside yet, but Amren just nods, and gently pushes past your outstretched arm. "Let me do my job, then. Stay put."

He starts quietly wandering back and forth in your apartment, sometimes tasting the air. You hear him opening and closing a few closets and checking the bathroom door. You mentally thank yourself for actually tidying up a bit before you left for the conference.

While Amren stalks around, you look at the items that are misplaced. A vase you received as a birthday gift from the company is on a different shelf - the magnets and papers on your fridge are rearranged - a single clean mug is placed on top of your bookshelf. You look in your bedroom and find to your horror that some of your clothes have gone missing from your closet.

"This is almost getting too creepy," you mutter.

Amren pokes his head in your room with an glum expression. "Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

"You did," you reply, matching his tone. "I chose not to do that."

He rolls his eyes at your quip, and slithers in fully. "I found this in your bathroom cabinet."

He holds out what appears to be a small note. You take it. In a very fine handwriting, the note simply reads:

I'M SORRY

"I'm sorry..?" you repeat, looking bewildered at Amren.

He shrugs. "No idea. But there's no one in here now. And whoever it was, they were careful not to leave anything behind for me to pick up on. It only smells like you in here."

You look around again. "Then why would they leave so many random things misplaced? And why leave a note?"

"It appears someone is trying to apologize. They likely left things misplaced for you to find on purpose."

You cringe at your still open closet. "And stole some of my clothes as well."

Amren's brows furrow, but he doesn't comment.

It's around noon when you sit down with some tea and go over what you've experienced.

"A large house next to a big forest with it's own lake. Doesn't narrow it down much, does it?" you lean back on the couch and stare at the ceiling for a bit. "That's like. Half the upper class population in this town we're talking about. If it's even around this town."

"Irwin must have been handed over before the coyote came to you in the woods. She told you he was already with 'them' by then, right?" Amren asks, watching you.

He's settled on the opposite end of the couch, tail partially crawling over it and partially on the floor to make room for you. Sunlight filters in through a window, and he has strategically placed the tip of his tail to catch the rays.

"It could just be a stop on the way, but it could also mean he's not as far as we may think," he adds.

"She mentioned he was with 'the family' as we spoke – so no matter what, it can't be further than just about a days travel from here," you reply.

“Exactly. Which narrows down our search considerably,” he says, and stretches. He look tired all of a sudden. “Doesn’t mean we can go knocking on any and all houses that might fit the description, however. That's a fool's errand.”

Your phone buzzes, and you look to see a message from Elise.

“Elise is asking if we want to return with her to the house or if we’re staying here,” you relay the message.

“I say we stay put,” Amren says after brief consideration. “Best there’s no option in case someone’s tracking us to figure out what other spots you can retreat to.” He pauses. “Elise will be grateful for the reprieve from the snake smell, as well.”

You snort. “You’re still mad about that?”

He flicks his tongue at you. “I was never mad. But she was being incredibly rude, so if I was mad, I had every right to be.”

The afternoon passes without much incident. You spend some time digging through online articles and newspapers, trying to find a clues of families living in the nearby area, but nothing fruitful shows up so far. You even branch out to see if there are any families with magical connection, but you don’t find much besides some old documents on how things were before the assembly.

Seems it was a little more common, though not all mons could utilize it. Now it’s a scarce rarity, and only very simple magics, such as the lucky golden clover you used, are sights most people are familiar with. There’s not much on why it should work differently for humans, though, but you do manage to find an old article describing it’s simply not as efficient, like your body just don’t take to certain magics the same way a mon’s would. The article ends by acknowledging that without further studies on the topics, and without the ability to actually perform certain magics in succession, it’s going to be hard to pinpoint exactly why that is.

The world is still young, after all.

Eventually, Amren yawns and snaps his laptop shut, eye bleary with strain. You watch as he uncoils himself and heads toward the kitchen space, throwing an offer to cook some dinner over his shoulder at you.

“It’s alright, I can do it!” you quickly say.

Amren huffs at your thinly veiled reluctance and offer to help. It’s painfully obvious you’re reminded of a certain incident involving rare canned meat.

He deftly ignores your qualm, and goes through your pantry and freezer without prompt from your end.

“Well please, good sir, help yourself,” you snort at him from your spot on the couch.

“I intend to,” he grumbles back, opening and closing your cabinets.

You hadn’t shopped for anything before the conference, but he apparently finds you had enough in reserve for him to cook up something.

You watch him filing around your kitchen, cutting up ingredients, only once in a while asking you for direction when he can’t find something in the unfamiliar kitchen space.

It’s relaxing watching him work, he moves about with a sort of focused calmness you haven’t seen much of with other people currently in your life. He always seems calm and collected when he's not being openly hostile, and it's very reassuring to feel he's got a handle on things. Once again, you find the warm brown hues of his scales mesmerizing. Multiple times you have to tear your eyes from him lest he catches you stare.

It's been nagging at you, you realize. Taking all this mess in stride, and defensively sticking to your side like glue through it all, when barely two weeks ago you could have jumped off a bridge and he wouldn't have batted an eye. You realize you haven’t actually been apart since the day you were partnered up at the conference. And you still haven’t actually talked about.. anything. There's just been so much else going on.

Not that you're particularly fond of the idea disturbing this slightly fragile peace - but perhaps now is some downtime to get some things out of the way?

Eventually you yield to the stressors of the researcher's life, and join Amren in the kitchen, plopping up on the kitchen counter to announce your presence. He eyes you.

"I'm gonna ask you something," you state.

He returns his attention to the stewing pot in front of him. "Of course you are."

"Why are you here?"

It catches him a bit off guard judging from the way he pauses. He turns away from the stove to look at you again. The intense golden focus in his eyes makes you queasy in a weird way. "Elaborate."

"I mean – this whole thing with Irwin and me, Mira. It's sort of not your problem. At all. You have every right to turn back and go home. Elise too."

He slightly tilts his head, flicking his tongue. "You want me to leave?"

"Goodness, no!" you laugh, shoving at him playfully. "I'd be dead meat twice if you hadn't stuck around, I'm just worried that-"

"And there you have it," he interrupts with a nonchalant shrug. "I'm a security guard. Keeping the employees alive is what I – we – do."

"At the company," you correct him. "Which is currently closed because of all of this, and people going missing. Technically, you're not at work right now."

"Why is this bothering you so much?" he asks.

Now it’s your turn to pause. You choose your words carefully. "It's not bothering me, I just don't want to drag you into more dangerous situations because of all of this. I shouldn't have asked you to join me today, or taken Elise up on her offer."

"And why not? It's much safer when you stick with us."

You shake your head. "For me. Not for you. Amren, Mira tried to kill you. Hell, you're still injured from that night. And you're just wandering around like that didn't mess with you at all. I feel bad for letting you take part in what’s really my issue. You said it yourself. You didn’t lose anyone."

He just stares at you for a beat, something passing in his expression, his eyes going slightly dim. Eventually, he averts his gaze.

“..but I could have," he mutters.

It's barely audible, but purposely still loud enough for you to hear.

You remain quiet, unsure how to approach that statement.

Amren sighs at your baffled silence, and returns the lid on the pot, calmly putting the spoon down.

"Is it enough for you to know that I'm here because I want to be?" He pauses, but chuckles before you can reply. "No. Of course it won’t be."

You stick you tongue out at him.

He squints at the childish display, and retaliates by sticking his own forked tongue out back with a sneer. You try not to balk at how the thing reaches down well past his chin as he does so.

"Very mature," he huffs. "Listen, you put in effort for me. Since the first time we met, since that pointless hike in the woods, and up until that night we – WE – fought the coyote, you saw everything. All the things I don't want anyone to see. And here you still are, still being an infuriating nuisance like that didn't change anything at all."

"You stuck around because I'm a menace?" you laugh.

He flicks his tongue at you. "You're horrendous. But you didn't leave me behind when I lost control, and you even managed to bring me out of it before I did something that would mildly haunt me for the rest of my life." He looks at you intently. "I won't forget that."

Silence hangs in the air for a bit while his words settle with you. The silence stretches somewhat uncomfortably, so you look for something to break the tension. "Only mildy?" you jest.

He stares ahead with his eyes narrowed, like he's considering it. "I really don't like that coyote."

You snort. "You and me both."

"There's a reason I don't go out of my way to socialize much. You got the brunt of it that night, and I'm sorry," he says sincerely. "The point is, as I said, you put in effort for me, and I'll return the favor. Simple as that."

That's a lot of effort in return for you just trying to be friendly, but you surmise it sticks a bit deeper than what is on the table right now. But you also know by now that pressuring answers on a deep personal level will get you nowhere with Amren, so you decide to shelve it for now.

Besides, there's another question in your mind.

"Does that effort include why everyone's always commenting on me smelling like a snake?" you ask.

He nods. "Yes. It's not really something I think about, it just happens whenever you get close. Pardon if it's uncomfortable," he says, not really sounding very sorry. "It's a way my kind signal to others that we're in that person's corner. It's a deterrent, a warning. And usually a quite efficient one, as Elise not very kindly informed you," he explains, returning his attention to the stove.

You remember vaguely the way Mira stiffened when she caught the scent of you two, and wonder briefly if her relaxing upon seeing you with him means your presence calmed her nerves. You don't know how to feel about that.

But it explains why he's been hovering closer to you on a regular basis lately. It’s quite odd to think he’s grown so protective of you his body apparently just automatically responds to your proximity.

You don't know how to feel about that either.

You haven't exactly noticed any changes, but the people around you certainly seem to have.

"In a sort of weird way, I guess that's kind of nice of you? Though I would prefer if people wouldn't stare at me for it," you chuckle.

He hesitates, and looks like he shrinks slightly while gently stirring the pot. "They're staring at me, Tiny, don't you worry," he replies glumly.

"You? What do you mean?"

He grimaces. "People tend to assume the worst when it comes to monsters like me, and I think we best just leave it at that."

The abruptness at this statement is an unexpected change of tone, and your first instinct is to try and alleviate it - but the bitterness is not directed at you, so you will not be the one to absolve it. And perhaps you’ve already pushed the personal talk a bit much today. You’ll let him have this one. For now.

"Fair enough," you give, ending the conversation.

"Dinner's ready.”

Dinner's quiet, and you sense some tension after that last outburst. You try to fill the silence with small talk, though it seems Amren has retreated to his safe space of silence for now, so you decide to leave him be for a time.

You do the dishes, and settle down on the couch once again. Amren stays at the kitchen counter with his laptop, typing away. You spend some time doing your own work, writing down everything you know so far, and checking up with your contacts.

There's a mail from Mrs. Hansen, updating on the situation. She politely lets everyone know the company is still closed until further notice, and that the police are fully involved and doing a thorough investigation.

To your surprise, there's a mail from your manager Barney as well. It's from his personal mail. It's a short written apology for sending you in the first place, and offering condolences to what happened with Irwin. You close the mail again.

It’s getting late, and it's difficult trying to connect the dots.

"In some way, does the ‘why us’ even matter?" you ponder out loud. "Right now, we just need a location."

"Working on it," Amren replies, to your surprise. "There's quite a few options, however, and going through all of them would take weeks."

"She keeps talking about a family," you offer. "Do you know of any specific histories here? Any grand families making appearances in this town?"

He thinks for a moment. "Not my strong suit. I've lived here all my life, but it hasn't really come up before. Since the Assembly, things also got scrambled. Isn't there anything noteworthy from your side?"

Huh. You haven't thought of that, but you guess the assembly would give just as many troubles and opportunities to the lunatics you're currently dealing with as it did everyone else. You wonder briefly how they've had to adapt – trying to forget the creepy factor of your kind apparently being in 'high demand' these days.

Your internet searches and mapping has brought you no closer to figuring out a specific place where Irwin could be held, and it seems Amren haven't had much luck either. He's tried browsing through personnel files to see if Mira at least is registered, but nothing comes up.

"Maybe we should try approaching Marcus again," Amren suggests with a yawn. He's moved from the space at the kitchen island and is leaning on one end of the couch, tail sprawled politely away from you. "He was reluctant at first, though I got the sense he truly cares about your – Irwin. Maybe pressuring him more would yield results."

You nod. Marcus has promised to keep you informed if he learned anything through his contacts. You've thought about it as well, though on your end it may be due to lack of other options. If Marcus has something to do with all of this, keeping him informed of your thoughts may be risky.

You voice as much, and Amren sighs.

"I'm aware. But he's a definite lead, still," he shifts his position and stretches his arms above his head. "I'm tired. You must be too. We better continue this in the morning."

"It just doesn't feel right leaving things hanging like this," you mutter, mostly to yourself, but you catch the unimpressed look Amren gives you and roll your eyes. "Doesn't mean I'm not going to bed, hold your judgmental horses."

You hadn’t expected an impromptu sleepover in your apartment, though when you go to find a spare mattress Amren gives you an odd look and reminds you he has no need of it. Must be handy to have a body that functions like a bed in itself.

You feel a little guilty for leaving Elise to deal with things herself, but you can be rest assured that she's safe in her own house, and it seems your pursuers aren't aware of her. Maybe it's better like this, and you should be safe in any case now that you’re not here in your apartment alone.

You haven't been alone since Amren apparently made it his mission to keep a deterrent on you.

After a nightly ritual getting ready for bed, you find him in the living room scouting around, presumably finding a good corner to settle in. He’s discarded his everyday shirt and helped himself to one of your blankets, lazily dangling over his shoulder as he moves about.

“Are you alright out here?” you ask, watching him slither around.

“I’ll be fine,” he replies, not looking up at you. “Get some sleep.”

He finds a suitable corner in the space between your bedroom door and the window, and coils up there. You watch, slightly fascinated by how the muscle under his scales work when he moves about.

You move back to give him space. “Goodnight. And Amren?”

“What?”

“Thanks for looking out for me.”

He nods an affirmative, and shifts his torso within his coils, closing his eyes.

You settle into your own bed for the night, and go to sleep reassured there’s someone on guard right outside your door.

#colderwriting #monster romance #gender neutral reader #x reader #monster lover #naga #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #exophilia #have some grumpy boi heart to heart

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