#khh scenarios

[j0nginxz]

☆ ͡ ݂ 𝖽𝗉𝗋 𝗂𝖺𝗇 : 𝗂𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌

✶ don't repost my work or call it yours

[nirvanawrites111]

Set My Wings on Fire (DPR Ian x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're smitten by the love of your life, Christian Yu and he's being painted as a dangerous person. But, you don't care cause that's your man and you're going to stick beside him. You're pretty much in love with a villain, but he's super sweet to you. Non-celebrity AU.

Pairing: DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral sex (male rec), mentions of murder, praise kink, good girl, unprotected sex, creampie

This is part of a NEW SERIES called Duality. It's all about embracing switch!energy. Part 1 will be sub!reader and Part 2 will be dom!reader. Some of the stories will be 2 idols x reader, and some will be just 1 on 1.

Smut below the cut.

"You need to leave him alone," Your best friend voices as they stare at the large television on your wall. The dim glow casts a shadow across your living room.

You press your lips together and cross your arms. A tightness crawls up your chest. This is the last thing you want to hear right now. You are tired of hearing this comment right now. You feel around your couch for the remote. You can't bother to listen to the news channel any longer.

"Look," you begin, forcing yourself to meet their gaze. "I know Christian very well. The media is trying to make up stories about him. He's not the monster they're making him out to be," You speak up and express your feelings. You twist his ring that he gave you a year ago, and you decide to wear it as a necklace.

You know Christian better than anyone. Everything he does has a meaning and purpose behind it.

You stare at the image of his picture plastered on the television. His usual neat dark brown hair is a mess, and his eyeliner is smeared. Underneath his picture are large red letters "WANTED" that contrast against his pale complexion. Sure, he might seem dangerous to someone else, but to you, something magnetizes you to him.

"The man is a killer, Y/n. If he comes here, you need to turn him in. You don't want to go to jail for housing a fugitive, do you?"

"He isn't a killer. I don't care what the media is saying."

You pick up your phone off the couch table and see that he texted you five minutes ago that he was on his way. You quickly text back and tell him to wait until your best friend leaves.

"This man has brainwashed you. Hopefully, you realize the truth before it's too late." Your best friend raises their hands in defeat and stands up. "I gotta go. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"He's not, but thanks for stopping by," you reply, trying to smooth things.

Your friend stands up and hugs you. You're glad they are leaving. There is nothing that will convince you that Christian is a bad person. Even with everything you know about him, you would never turn on him.

You walk with them to your front door, and the soft patter of your bare feet echoes against the polished hardwood floor.

Once they leave you close the door only to be slightly pushed open, revealing Christian.

There he is.

The only man that can make you melt to your knees. You want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you.

"Beautiful," Christian, your accented lover, whispers your favorite nickname. He steps into your home. His words allow you to fall to your knees and please your man. But, you don't want to act too thirsty.

He removes his hood with both hands and reveals his hair in messy, shoulder-length loose curls. The two of you stand in your foyer, and your eyes connect.

Christian has such a dark energy around him that it attracts you to him for whatever reason. It pulls you in so closely, like a moth to a flame. Regardless of what others say, you can still see the good in him. He's been nothing but kind, patient, and loving to you. So, really, that's all that matters to you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

Christian removes his sweatshirt, and your eyes trace over his tattoos. You run your hand over the one tattoo over his heart, your name.

"I'm so much better, now that I'm with you."

"I'm sure you know they're looking for you."

"I know," Christian sighs. "I'm also wanted for something. What is it this time?"

"Murder."

Christian stares into your eyes, and he can heart your heart beating fast. No one has ever cared about him more than you. Your unwavering loyalty is something he's searched for many years. Now, he's found exactly what he needs within you.

"Do you think I'm guilty?" Christian asks you.

"No, but if you did it, I know there was a reason."

"Good girl. You know your man oh too well," Christian praises you. He knows it's exactly what you need to hear in this moment.

Your lips curl into a smile, and you haven't looked away from him. He knows that nothing about him scares you. He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he knows he can trust you.

"I do. My best friend was just running their mouth talking about how I need to leave you alone. But, they don't know you like I do."

"Do you need me to handle that?"

"No, never that."

"We have some catching up to do. Don't we, angel?"

"Yes."

***

You turn on the shower and step into it first. Christian follows behind you. He presses you against the shower wall from behind. "My angel.. so pure. So innocent," he whispers into your ear.

Christian runs his hand down your back, enough to give you chills. You've missed feeling his touch against your skin.

"You know I'm far from innocent."

"Compared to me. You're a saint."

Christian attacks your neck with kisses. This instantly sends a warmth throughout your body. You've missed the way his lips feel against your skin. You don't care what happens when he's out of your sight. Because this man adores you, he'd do anything to protect you.

"Sweetness, tell me.." Christian pulls away from you and turns you around to face him. His gaze penetrates your eyes, searching for something unspoken. "Do you really love me?"

His eyes are full of emotions, and you can see the pureness in his question. But, at the same time, why would he question you this way? You've always supported him no matter what.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I had to leave you for a bit?"

Your breath quickens, and you can feel your stomach churn. Is he going to up and leave you? Does this mean he's going to end things with you?

"Where are you going?" You twist your necklace.

Christian picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as the warm water cascades down the two of you.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm leaving in 48 hours."

"Because of what I saw on the news?" You try to piece everything together. Did this mean that it was true? You didn't want to ask him what happened because you trusted him.

He promised you he would never do anything that would jeopardize his time with you. He stated that from the beginning. But, now, it felt like things were going differently.

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hell no. I will get this sorted out. I will come back for you."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Angel?"

"Yes."

"Don't I always come back for you?"

"Yes.. but."

"No, buts. Listen, you have to trust me. I will come back for you, okay?"

You nod. But, your fear is he's going to leave you.

"Angel, don't look so sad. I wish I could take you with me. It's going to pain me to leave you."

"Well let me taste you for the last time."

"Of course, angel."

Christian releases from his arms, and you get down on your knees. You look up at him.

He strokes your face and looks at you in such a loving way.

You hold your hands behind your back and swirl your tongue around his dick until he's halfway in your mouth.

You hum your favorite song and move your mouth up and down his length. This could be the last time you taste him, so you want to savor the moment.

You close your eyes and move faster and hear him moan. You love hearing him vocalize his satisfaction for you.

"Go deeper for me, angel," Christian instructs you, and you have no problem following instructions.

You take him deeper into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head. He's moving with you to the point where you two are rocking as one.

At this moment, you are breathing through your nose because you only want to please him. You live to serve him. You are hopelessly devoted to him.

"Fuck.. just like this," Christian groans. "Don't stop, angel. God, you're so beautiful like this."

"Mmmhm," you barely manage to say because you have your mouth full and wouldn't want to have it any other way. Tonight has to count and hold you over.

"No one else can suck me the way you do. You're so amazing, angel," Christian continues to praise you, which encourages you to keep going because you know he's so close.

"You want this nut don't you?"

You nod without missing a beat, and both of his hands are on the back of your head. He's practically fucking your throat at this point.

He cums down your throat, and you swallow all of it.

Christian pulls you up to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth and kisses you. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but run your fingers along your pussy only to find that it are dripping for him.

"Thank you for that amazing blow job, angel. You're always amazing."

"No problem."

Christian wraps his arms around you. "Mhmm.. I'm ready to feel all of you now. You want that, baby?"

"Yess.."

"How do you want me?"

"From behind.. like this." You turn around, place your hands against the shower wall, and arch your back.

Christian places his hand against your lower back and moves his dick along your entrance. "You know I love taking you from behind. Do you want me here or do you want back door."

"Here.. I want to feel you deep inside me. I prefer anal when I'm pegging you."

Christian kisses on the side of your neck. "I know baby.. next time when I come home. We can celebrate with pegging." He sucks on your neck and inches himself into you.

Feeling him inside of you feels like home. There's nothing like having him deep inside of you.

"You're so tight for me, angel," Christian whispers against your neck, kissing gently against the spot he just sucked on.

You moan out his name and enjoy him being inside of you again.

The feeling is euphoric, and you get lost in the moment of being one with your lover again. His hands cover and clasps with yours as he strokes into you.

You hope you celebrate with him, but you want to enjoy this moment. You arch your back a little more as he increases the pace. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. It feels too good. You deserve to experience this type of heaven on earth.

Christian holds you in place as he slows down with each backshot he gives you, and he reaches from behind and runs his hand down the front of your love nest. He moves to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesss, baby! I love when you rub my clit," you moan out.

"I know you do." Christian continues to rub it while you tighten around his dick. "My baby is close. Are you going to cum on my dick?"

"Mmhmm," you moan. But, at the point, you're already trembling from the combination of his teasing your clit and being buried inside you. The sensation is perfect. It's a feeling that never gets old. No matter how many times he gives you an orgasm, it always feels as good as the first time.

"So, be a good girl and cum for me."

"That's it.. baby. Cum on dick." He instructs you and talks you through it. You obey him easily. You release onto his dick. He's right there with you as he pumps into you until he cums inside you.

"Mmm.. thank you, baby," you say, trying to catch your breath.

"No, thank you angel. You were wonderful as always. I can't wait to celebrate with you when I come back."

If you enjoyed this please reblog. It helps other find my work.

Part 2

[retrievablememories]

one of these nights | dpr ian

word count: 1.1k warnings: kissing. and some suggestiveness/sexual tension. a/n: finally conjured something up. hooray for me breaking a nearly 10 year dry streak of never completing a single fic of this guy?

i'm finding that i'm in no mood to write anything explicit lately (cherry bomb wore me out ok), so this will probably not be what a lot of folks are looking for, but… this was written more for my own self-indulgence than anything else. 🤓 please don’t jump me about a part 2, i don't know whether there will be one or not

divider from here

"i'm tired," you say, crossing your arms and leaning your weight against the brick wall behind you. you blink slowly, trying to placate some of your exhaustion and rest your eyes. it's not the most comfortable resting spot, but it's all you have for now until you're back in your heated apartment and in your own bed.

"it should only take him a minute to find his wallet," christian reassures you as he settles himself on the wall opposite to you, knowing how eager you are to get back home. he can't blame you, as the long night is beginning to catch up to him, too.

"i can't believe he lost it in the first place; who the hell does that?" your friend had dashed back in the direction of the restaurant once you all had gotten halfway down the block and he realized he didn't have his wallet. now you are just waiting for him to find it and come back, having ducked into this alleyway to try to get some shelter away from the winter breeze. you wouldn't have gone anywhere near this dim, narrow alley if you were with anyone else, but you trust christian to keep you safe if anything happens. it feels unusual but comforting to be able to trust someone in that way.

christian chuckles lightly and shakes his head. "y'know, i think he was a little too preoccupied flirting with the waitress to keep track of it."

despite your tiredness, you break into giggles at the remembrance of your friend's corny attempts at flirting with lines that seemed to come straight from a poorly-rated romcom.

even after your laughter dies down, your insides pleasantly warmed by the amusement, christian's eyes stay on you—intently watching. when you realize this, you meet his gaze again with a question beginning to form on your lips.

your eyes only have seconds to remain interlocked with each other's before christian is stepping forward in one long stride, his body heat filling your space and his lips capturing yours.

it's completely unexpected. what's more unexpected is the flash of scalding heat that it sends through your body, and the quiet, surprised moan it pulls from you. his lips are warm and unaffected by the cold of the outdoors. strands of his hair tickle your face, and his nose presses against your cheek, the solid metal of his nose ring disrupting the soft touch of his skin on yours.

there are the ghosts of his hands—one at your hip and the other somewhere between the nape of your neck and the side of your jaw—but neither one fully makes contact with your body, just brushing by like he's decided he can't touch you or it might overwhelm him. his mouth parts, and there is the tip of his tongue gliding across the seam of your lips. you are just about to invite him inside, but then there is nothing more.

the kiss ends before you can fully get your bearings within it. christian separates from you and a trail of spit is the only thing left connecting you both, which breaks when he backs away.

"maybe i shouldn't have done that," he says, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. "i'm sorry." you don't know what to say to that.

the unruly breeze is back, changing directions and flooding into the narrow alley, and it makes your lips even colder than they'd otherwise be from the new moisture on them. your entire nervous system feels like it's vibrating within your body—trembling with the desire for more. you want to cross those few feet of space and go to him, meld your bodies together, crush your lips against his, scratch your nails across his back over the smooth leather of his jacket.

you might even like it if he picked you up and pressed your back against that rough brick wall—if you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed his slender waist between your thighs—if you felt his fingertips sink into the flesh of your thighs while his tongue sunk into your mouth.

but your feet stay planted right where they are.

"sorry? you don't have to be sorry. but why did you do it?"

"i just wanted to—for a while now. that's pretty selfish of me, but...fuck." he flips a hand through his hair like he always does; he does it so frequently that sometimes it distracts you from the conversation at hand. in those moments, all you can really think about is the softness of his hair as it slides through your fingers, the few times you’ve touched it before.

now, all you can think about is grasping it more firmly and controlling his movements, bringing his mouth back to yours so you can taste him again.

lost in his thoughts, he bites his lip. the vibrating of your nerves intensifies.

"well, do it again. you could be selfish with me, christian."

there's an expectant pause as you both size each other up, a mutual understanding and desire developing in the silence. christian approaches you again, but slower this time, like he's trying to gauge if you're serious. in seconds, he's right in front of you and breathing your air and staring at you like he is hungry for something only you could give him.

quietly, you reiterate: “take whatever it is that you want. i want you to do that.”

“darling...” his voice sounds deceptively gentle, teasing even though he doesn’t mean for it to be. he whispers to you as if you’re a glass figurine that could disintegrate if he speaks too loudly, even as his tattooed hand presses against the brick beside your head, already enveloping you. leaning in, his eyes flicking down to your mouth and staying there, he says: “do you really want me to—”

"hey! i found it."

you abruptly turn away from christian, looking at your friend who's standing at the entrance of the alleyway and holding his wallet up with triumph. "what are you two doing?" your friend looks at you cluelessly, though realization immediately dawns on him with an embarrassed smile he tries to tamp down.

the moment is shattered; christian's expression breaks into an awkward smile that matches your friend's, and once again the space between you is wider than you'd like for it to be, his arm back at his side. "dude..."

you give a heavy sigh and roll your eyes, suddenly remembering how tired you are. "...nothing. let's go home."

[eureka-its-zico]

Kiss Me and My Bones Turn to Ash

Synopsis: You get introduced to Mito in the worst way possible.

A/N: I love AU’s like this. This was a long time coming, but finely, this WIP is seeing the light of day after some long months. I tried to make it 5k words or less, but apparently, 7.3k is the smallest I can do. I hope DPR fans (and even nonfans) enjoy this little one-shot of mine. As always, much love, Jenn 

Pairing: DPR IAN x Reader

Genre: Demon!Mito, Demon AU, 

Word count: 7368

Warnings: dark themes, sacrificial themes, light BDSM, smut, blood, light gore mentioned, there is some dirty shit in here y’all. Mentions of drug-use

Your throat was raw and your skin ached. 

Raw from screaming and attempting to struggle out of the many hands that gripped your arms and legs. Your one last shot at freedom echoing between cypress trees and an endless midnight sky. Multiple hands stripped away every last shred of dignity from your body until there was nothing left but tears that flowed freely down makeup smeared cheeks down to naked skin. 

You were defenseless as these intrusive hands came by the dozens - yanking and pulling you down dirt paths deeper inside the forest. 

It didn’t matter how your voice rose in a crescendo of despair; the fear worming its way deeper inside your gut. The small hope you’d held onto that someone - anyone - would save you died the minute your bloodied back met cool stone. 

You continued to give them a fight as they spread you like a star across the midnight stone of their altar. You wouldn’t make it easy for them. While they treated you like something disposable, you knew your life meant something to you with all the moments you’d never see flashing wildly behind frantic eyes. 

It wasn’t until the ropes cut painfully deep into the skin of your ankles and wrists that you felt the last grain of hope die in your chest. The prayers to whoever was listening, cracking one last time and washing out to silence as a wolf howled somewhere off in the distance. 

No one was listening to the sounds of your prayers - or so you thought. It wasn’t until later you’d learned he’d been walking beside you, as they dragged you through dirt and rocks that cut into your skin. He watched and listened as you thrashed and cursed them with your own hatred bubbling molten hot beneath muscles and bone.

He watched and waited for the perfect time to peel free from the shadows and find his new home inside you. 

Cloaked men came together to form a tight circle around the altar. Their arms raised up along with their voices in a deep chant that you swore made even the branches on the trees tremble. Was it Latin? Aramaic? The only ones who knew were the voices of the men and whatever god they were praying to. 

You were trying to catch a glimpse around the edge of the hood of someone’s clock - was that Devin from microbiology? - when a knife started to carve shallow lines across your stomach. 

A fresh wave of screams rose from your throat. The sound was lost inside the ominous chanting of men with hidden faces and the night. You knew your thrashing was pointless. You weren’t miraculously going to develop superhuman powers and Hulk your way free from your restraints. 

So, with each descending cut down your abdomen you snarled, “Fuck you!” In their direction. Your fear was bleeding away into something carnal - something worthy of savagery. No longer did you want them to see you weeping for a God to save you. If you were dying, it would be with defiance in your eyes and skin in your teeth. 

Another seething retort was flaring to life on your tongue when you noticed him, and that was when your world completely shifted. 

You had to be hallucinating him. A sadistic trick of your own mind to find comfort in…what? He didn’t seem real. He couldn’t be. But there he was. Over the shoulders of these hooded men, at the backdrop of the forest, he paced around them. His eyes pitiless and empty except for what looked like a blue spark of flame. His thumb traced the bottom of a pouty lower lip with the top of his Cupid bow curling into something sinister. You were watching him - you’d seen him and for some reason it brought him joy. He seemed amused, whoever he was, and that amusement sent that blue spark into a flame that lit up the entire iris of his eyes. 

He was handsome. The kind of handsome Roman sculptors looked for as a muse when carving into marble. You were willing to bet that there were dozens of odes and poems written just about him. Dark long hair framed his features and somehow made the pout of his lips more exaggerated. The edges touched the collar of his black trench coat that framed wide shoulders. Shoulders that spoke volumes of muscles that rippled with power and seduction: that left thousands begging for forgiveness for following any that wasn’t him. His jawline was razor sharp and the bones of his cheeks raised high. A part of you wanted to call him Apollo, but deep down you knew if he was a God he could only have one name. 

Hades. 

The chanting came to an end and with it the carving. You didn’t want to turn away from him - your lord of the underworld - but your curiosity took hold. You wanted to see what these bastards had done. 

You didn’t yell or scream when you saw the drizzles of blood that ran like heavy syrup down your sides. The crudely cut shape of a pentagram carved into the soft flesh of your abdomen. 

He could’ve done better. 

It felt fucked up to think that way but you were all out of tears and if you were going to die you at least wanted it to look better than resembling a carved-up Christmas ham. The enter situation began fucked up from the minute you woke up inside a cell and only worsened with each passing hour. If only you hadn’t accepted that stupid invitation maybe then you’d be home in your room eating discounted Oreos and on to your next Netflix binge. 

The regret built thick and thicker on your tongue until it made it impossible to swallow past the growing rage. Or maybe your throat was just raw from all the unanswered pleading you’d done - you were done crying. If you were going to die you refused to let it happen with fresh tears in your eyes. 

You took in a heavy breath and let yourself grow rigid -  hard and hollow - ready to curse them and show them your defiance. It didn’t matter if it was a pitiful last attempt at acting like you had any semblance of control. You weren’t going down begging. 

“Fuck-“

You. That’s how it should’ve finished. 

Instead, one of the hooded assholes - Jisoon from economics, it looked like - let out a gasp. If you were under better circumstances, you would’ve made fun of him. 

“It’s you! Oh, my lord!”

His body collapsed down to his knees. His arms out in front of him in what he must have thought resembled reverence. In actuality, he looked more like he was afraid. 

Groups of hooded heads turned to see what made their brother fall to his knees. Your own head included. You weren’t entirely sure why you needed to look. You knew he was there. 

You’d felt him long before your eyes ever gazed upon him.

He manifested from darkness. The shadows cast down by the moonlight from trees, bushes, and rock slithered to create his form and once he was made he stepped out into the clearing. The second the group of eyes fell on his darkened figure they followed down on their knees. Their faces buried in the dirt where their praises fell from their lips to the soil. 

“What are you praising? The dirt? Fuckin’ idiots,” you snarled. 

If you’re going to worship something - someone - you look it in the eyes. Let them feel your devotion like a plague. 

One of them looked at you then. His hatred was evident on his face. If he could, you were sure he would’ve spit on you. If you could, you would’ve strangled him with the rope he left you to die in. 

“Dark lord - foul one - we bring you the offering that you have desired.” 

Besides the long dark coat he wore underneath was a graphic shirt that reminded you of a Rorschach painting. Black designs flooded the white material until it took on different shapes. It was tucked inside black denim that hugged his thighs and dove inside black combat boots. 

If he really was a demon he was not only the most ridiculously good-looking one out there, but self-consciously stylish. 

Your head dropped back against the stone. Your wrists and ankles are still tightly spread and trapped by the ropes that hold you bound in place. You want to keep looking at him. The desire to look at him was overwhelming, but your body was too weak to fight the exhaustion of holding yourself up. 

He walked calmly into the circle they created with you at the center. His eyes took you in and you swore you could feel the trail they took along your body. You felt a need so violent suddenly flash under your skin your wrists jerked against the rope. A whimper of urgency to plead with him to touch you almost escaped your lips, but you caught it and swallowed it back down. 

A sexy smirk played across his lips. As if the son of a bitch knew what he almost made you do in a sacrificial circle with you as the main star. 

Fresh anger brewed in your stomach and you were ready to spit it out at his feet when you blinked and he was just there. His hand clasped tight to your cheeks in warning as his obsidian eyes of flame met yours. 

“I wouldn’t do that, little lamb.” 

You would have told him to shove it if he wasn’t holding on to your face so painfully tight.  

“Is this all you brought me?”

Well, that was fucking rude. 

“Lord Mito- “

One of the hooded assholes from earlier began to rise from his knees. This guy makes himself the preverbal leader of this merry band of idiots. He was on his way up from a one-knee position when Mito stopped him. His only other free hand halted him in place. 

At first, you thought it was nothing more than a gesture. He was staying still because his master instructed him to do so. It didn’t hit you that it could’ve been something else until you noticed his pale complexion begin to darken to crimson. The other hooded assholes now looking around in uncertainty and - something you truly enjoyed - fear. 

“You come to me - like your parents - to make deals for your Ivy League tuitions with riches and recognition and you come bearing fruit from only one tree. You ungrateful roaches.” 

With each word he spoke the boys began to writhe on the ground. Their identities exposed to you the way they’d exposed you to their treachery - naked and alone - to a demon for slaughter just so they wouldn’t need to try hard at life. Some of them you’d thought were your friends. 

“We have more! We can get you more!”

“There are tons of these drunk bitches back at the house.”

More drugged women they meant. More women like you who were dumb enough to take their betrayal as friendship. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted revenge. It stoked the dying fire of rage that was left in your gut and made it new. 

For a moment, you blinked, and your entire world evaporated into darkness. A part of you screamed as you tore your face free from his hands to stay put - to be a good girl. 

What had being a good girl ever got you but sacrificing yourself until you end up on some fucked up altar in the woods. 

You were surprised when Mito didn’t turn his grip tighter to hold you in place. He didn’t try to keep you in place and was willing to let you go. Your defiant eyes staring up into his that flashed with mirth. 

“I have a better offer for you.”

Your voice was hoarse. Hours of begging for your life will do that to you. Now it felt like its own premonition. Maybe to begin again all of what held you back needed to be stripped away in fire and blood to show you what you were capable of becoming. 

“Shut up, you whore.”

It was Carl - sweet coffee shop Carl - who lashed out at you then. His words full of a frantic need to keep you quiet. Mito’s head tilted in his direction giving Carl only a sideways glance before a hand moved into view. His middle and ring finger making a swift motion up sending Carl up into the air. 

When Mito spoke the rich baritone of his voice grew darker. The night itself shifted back as if whatever words he hummed in Latin were more terrifying than what resided inside it. You watched as Carl tried to scream as his body contorted in an ungodly way. Blood pulled from the corners of his mouth and eyes with unspoken words gargling out his agony. 

“I don’t expect any further interruptions, children” Mito snarled with Carl dropping in a twisted - and very dead - heap on the forest floor. “I smell a deal coming. Please, little lamb, continue.”

Your tongue flicked across your cracked lips. Your hesitancy dying off as soon as you watched his hungry eyes follow their movement. 

“I offer you them.”

A crescendo of yelling rose as a wave around you. The men who sought to end your life with brutality did not seem to enjoy losing their lives the same way. How funny.

Mito made a swift turning motion with his hand and pulled it close to his chest. In the span of the same heartbeat it took to do it all the screaming stopped. He’d stripped them of their voice. 

“If I wanted them I would have them.”

You shook your head hard once to deflect his claim. 

“That’s not true. If that was the case, they would already be dead. Especially Carl. You’re stuck in some weird servitude thing. I bet you can’t even leave this area.” An unnatural cold wind rushed over your skin. It involuntarily caused your hands to grab at your bindings as a shiver ran across your body igniting it in goosebumps. “I can offer you all of them. All twelve of them along with my servitude and the release to feed freely as you wish until I’m dead.”

Everything appeared to grow still as his eyes searched your face. Was that excitement in his eyes? You couldn’t tell at first but realized the growing flames that seemed to leap up endlessly past his iris wasn’t because of anger. It was the thought of new prospects. A freedom to feed in a way he’d been denied after however long he’d been summoned.

Mito began to slowly lean down towards your face and you struggled not to turn away. The fire in his eyes created the illusion that you were falling further into hell and, maybe you were. Strangely enough - for him - you were willing to burn. 

“You’ve got a deal, little lamb,” he breathed across your lips just before he crushed his mouth against yours. 

You shouldn’t have thought of it as a kiss. It was visceral - every part of you fought against your ropes, digging the thread deeper into your flesh just to feel his pouty lips envelope over yours. The tip of his tongue moved across your lower lip, asking for entrance, and you gladly gave it. 

You opened to him without hesitation and Mito deepened the kiss. He used his tongue to open you up further; cracking your lips and smearing it against his own. At the first hint of copper on your tongue Mito let out a moan that made you strain against your bindings. The sound was pure sin. It was the promise of pleasure and pain - of being torn apart and made anew. 

When he tore his mouth away from you in a snarl, you almost screamed out in frustration, but the twelve hooded assholes who you’d offered up did it for you. 

You couldn’t see all that well what was happening in the clearing around you. The sounds of screaming resonated back inside the night sky once more, but this time it no longer was yours.  You listened as some ended abruptly while others gurgled around throats full of blood just before their end. The sound of flesh and thicker things landing with a plop on the dirt made your stomach flip. Splashes of blood rained down on you and you squeezed your eyes shut tight. 

It felt like an eternity before the screaming stopped abruptly after the sound of a boot crunching the bones of someone’s neck. You could hear the wind move across the leaves and scatter them over objects - maybe bodies, maybe rocks - and branches. It became so eerily quiet that you wondered if the whole thing had been a dark part of your imagination. 

Maybe you’d open your eyes and find yourself back inside the party. Your friend handing you a warm beer as you danced to a remix of some song that you didn’t know half the words too. It was a good thought - a great one, actually - but one you knew wasn’t going to be true. 

When you opened your eyes a hurricane of emotion billowed up in your chest and threatened to release from your lips. Mito was floating above you, his eyes completely consumed with the flames that earlier had only shown like dying embers. Now, the fires were completely stoked by the souls of the corpses littered around you. 

A devilish smile showcasing perfectly white teeth raised his lips as he watched you swallow down your fear. You could’ve sworn they all looked very sharp and pointy, but just like his eyes you watched as they all but disappeared. The only thing left to show for what had happened was a naked torso covered in tattoos and streaked with blood. 

“Are you afraid?”

You licked your lips as you tried to think of how to answer and watched as hungry eyes followed the movement once more. 

“It depends on what you mean by afraid,” you answered him softly. “Am I afraid of being in your debt? No. Am I afraid of you? Yes.”

His finger dragged along your cheek and followed the curve of your face. You thought he would stop there and gasped as he traced it further down to your throat, over your chest, and to the curve of your breast. 

“You’re smart to be afraid of me,” he replied huskily. His body was no longer floating above you but was now being held up by his own weight. “But I promise to take good care of you, little lamb as long as you promise to do the same for me in return.” 

His head dipped to the curve of your neck to press a soft kiss just below your ear. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t something you’d prepared for. You’d expected him to be brutal; to take without remorse. Instead, Mito pressed his lips softly against your skin as if to tell it a secret. 

It didn’t seem possible, but as his lips glided down your throat and to the hollow of your collarbone an ache began to grow hot and molten in your blood. He placed one last kiss between your breasts before his tongue dragged a hot line down close to the carved flesh of your stomach. 

You were aware of his hand as it crept up your thigh. Mito made sure he took his time with every inch his fingers took - tracing over the dips in your hip and over the mound of your pussy. Constantly he teased you - getting close and pulling away - and never let you have an inch of relief. 

A whimper was rising in your chest. Your hands no longer docile as they struggled to loosen the hold of the ropes at your wrists just so you could lace your fingers roughly in his hair. Mito’s tongue ran over the top point of the pentagram causing a hiss of surprised pain to rush past your lips. You wanted to move away from his wandering tongue as it continued to explore the open wound, but a strong hand held you in place. 

Mito worked his mouth over the botched grooves of your stomach - cleaning up the last remnants of your fucked up night. A growl was growing louder deep within his chest, humming against your skin, just before he shoved his tongue brutally into the open wound. 

The pain tore the air from your lungs. The scream you would’ve unleashed was stolen by silence and two thick fingers pushing themselves past your folds until they were knuckle deep inside you. 

You wish you could say that your body fought him - your thighs had clenched shut around his arm or your hips made it impossible for him to enter you. That he didn’t find your pussy dripping and eager for him. None of that would be true, however. 

Your body accepted him like a zealot to a newfound religion, and his fingers pushing past your folds to fuck you had your hips rising up to meet him with devotion. 

“Please,” you hummed. 

You didn’t care that you were begging. You were ready to shout for him to go further - deeper - when he inserted a third finger. The feeling of your pussy stretching followed by the overwhelming sense of fullness caused you to buck against the rock. The movement forced your stomach up into his hungry mouth causing his tongue to go deeper into the cut. 

The stinging sensation should’ve been enough to bring you back to your senses - a warning that this was fucked; you shouldn’t be enjoying this - but Mito made your body crave his pleasure through brutality. 

His wrist began to pump his fingers in deep, curling and stretching you until you came impossibly undone. Every time he pulled back - his fingers entering you anew - he went impossibly deeper. His fingers curl enough to hold the breath in your lungs and tear it free when his thumb curved up and pressed down on your clit. 

A wet squelching noise began to rise up around you. It was lewd - complete filth that mixed itself together with the sloppy sounds of his mouth hungrily cleaning up the dried blood surrounding the pentagram. Your cheeks would usually burn red hot with embarrassment at the sounds being made, but when Mito’s thumb began to apply pressure as his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, fingers still fucking you, you couldn’t find a reason to care. 

With a thick pop, Mito removed his mouth from your wound. Fresh blood - your blood - outlined his puffy lips. He made no move to go back to your chest or do anything. His fire filled eyes did not stop from watching as you writhed beneath him. 

“Tell me: I want you to tell me to whom you belong.” 

His voice was sin. It was sex - something ancient and primal that blossomed inside you like blood on a white shirt. It made your body needy as his thumb stroked in time with his fingers as they pushed inside your cunt. 

“You - fucc it’s you.” 

“You’ll do what I ask of you. No questions asked.”

His curled fingers touched something deep inside you. Something that clawed a mewling sound out from between your lips and made your body struggle anew against your restraints. You knew Mito wanted an answer. The irritation was creasing that pretty brow of his and making his hairline drop to greet them. 

The same irritation stoked the flame in his eyes from cobalt blue to crimson. Mito thrusted his fingers one last time into you before he removed them. If he was trying to punish you he was too late. 

That last thrust - with the hard rub of his thumb against your clit - sent you barreling over the edge. Your orgasm hit you violently and fast and you found yourself wetting the front of his chest. 

“Dirty girl,” he huffed. “You got me all wet.” 

He moved along your body until you were eye level. Your body was still trembling underneath him when his fingers laced themselves at the base of your scalp and pulled. A yelp leapt out of you as Mito’s free hand took hold of your jaw and held your mouth open. 

You watched as he accumulated salvia at the edge of his lips. Your brain barely registered what he was doing until he spit it inside your open - waiting - mouth and forced it closed. 

“Swallow.”

The demand was fire. A promise of punishment if you disobeyed. You wish you could’ve said it was disgusting. The taste of blood - your blood - and brimstone staining the inside of your mouth and coating your throat pissed you off. That you fought against him and told him to fuck off. In all actuality, it only made your cunt clench down on nothing. 

Once you swallowed it you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue out just to show him you’d been good. Done as he asked. The gesture alone sent a devilish smirk to curl across those pretty lips. 

“Good girl. Now let me hear you say it.”

Oh. Right. “I’ll do what you ask of me, Mito. No questions.”

“I expect you to hold up your end of our deal tonight, little lamb.” 

“I always keep my promises.”

You were trying to sound cheeky. Instead, it simply came out breathless. Mito was still staring down at you like you held the world he wanted to destroy and fuck if it wasn’t making it hard to think past the growing heat between your legs.

Slowly, Mito lowered himself closer to you and only stopped when his lips hovered a mere inch above yours. 

“That remains to be seen.”

The baritone of his voice whispering against your lips sent your body into hyperdrive. You were ready to beg him to fuck you when he dropped the last inch and placed a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth. 

The sheer softness of it startled you. Your eyes went wide as he pulled himself off of you and finally your makeshift altar. He was moving around you carefree. His movements slow and careful as he picks up his shirt and jacket out of the viscera and carnage he’d strewn across the fall leaves. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little lamb.” 

This asshole! Now your eyes were wide for another reason. You reached your arms up as high as you could raise them before giving the ropes at your wrist a shake. 

“Ugh, hello? Are you just going to leave me like this in the woods?”

Mito stopped at the edge of the clearing and regarded where you were like you were complaining about being in a five-star hotel. His shrug only set a fire to blaze in your blood. 

“It did cross my mind.”

“That’s gonna be a huge no for me.”

“You mean, you don’t like being tied naked to a rock in the middle of the woods?” He teased, with an eyebrow cocked. 

“Tempting, but no. Not in the slightest.” 

“Very well,” he shrugged. “See you soon, little lamb.”

Mito disappeared back inside the darkness he was born from, and you were ready to scream. To threaten to take your deal back when you threw up a middle finger at his exit and realized the rope was gone. 

Thank god - whoever - for spooky favors. 

You weren’t a smoker - still weren’t - but if offered you took one. From curious bartenders, frat parties with social smokers, and the ever-present sleazy drunks who assumed you must be a whore pressed so close to the shadows of the brick buildings Mito liked to frequent. 

The only whore you were was his. 

Of course, you were sure the only reason you let the toxic trash touch your lips was the same reason you drank in excess when he was gone. You weren’t entirely sure when you first noticed it. The emptiness you felt at small pleasures you used to enjoy became a distant memory. 

When was the last time you truly enjoyed a milkshake? A damn good Lumberjack-style breakfast or a warm cup of coffee? These days it seems you need multiple milkshakes to really taste the sweetness of the cream or the artificial flavoring of candy. You need dozens of pancakes and a mountain of syrup to even begin to feel full. 

No. When Mito was gone there was no fulfillment in anything. You were a bottomless pit of wants and craving and the only thing that could ease the burden of that unfashionable emptiness was him. 

At first, you didn’t want to believe such a thing could happen, but the more he stayed away the more you felt the black hole of longing begin to brew inside your gut. You wondered if anyone else could see it; the desperate way you tried to fill it. No matter what you tried nothing could ease the ache of nothingness until he reappeared. Your knight in his all-consuming darkness. 

When he would simply appear from the shadows or come up quietly from behind you while you sat on a bar stool, his hands covering your eyes and a devious, “Guess who?” cascading down your senses, you felt whole again. Complete. A fucked up missing puzzle piece finally fitting back in its rightful place. 

Maybe this is what it meant to be soulless. A hollowed-out version of who you were that only knew relief by the hands of the devil. 

You spent weeks since that night at the party - from your little adventure in the forest - before you saw Mito again. When he finally re-emerged for the first time that night with his hands hovering over your eyes you didn’t need to hear the husk of his tone to know it was him. 

Your skin had become feverish with a desire so deep it felt like you’d taken a sledgehammer to the gut at just the heat of him pressed against your back. All the life you’d felt slipped out of you day by day, everything you loved and that made you-you suddenly was coming back with blaring clarity. 

The second Mito’s warmth retreated from your back, your legs were swinging the bar stool around to follow him. He was moving to sit in the empty stool next to you. His feet barely touched down on the grimy linoleum floor before you were on him. 

You secured your arms around his shoulders and, to his apparent surprise, used the momentum of your body rocking into his to pull him towards you. You weren’t giving him a second to speak or deny you any longer. With a hand secured at the nap of his neck, and the other twinning inside the soft silk of his shirt, you crashed his pouty lips down on yours. Your tongue darting to trace a request for him to open up to you. 

Mito didn’t make you wait long. 

As suddenly as you’d taken hold of him Mito took hold of you - trapped you - in his arms. His kiss devoured you; ate and tasted up every whimpering plea his tongue stroking over yours coaxed from your chest. 

You felt alive. You felt whole again. 

Every sinew - every nerve of your body crackled with electricity, and as Mito’s hands glided up the back of your thighs you swore you could’ve become a storm. 

The both of you had stumbled into the bars’ back bathroom. The door held together by makeshift locks letting you know the entire place heard every moan he’d torn from you as he fucked you. When his cock bottomed out - so incredibly deep - between your folds and left you coming all over the edge of the bathroom sink, you knew that the whole entire bar heard.

Later that night, Mito made two deals with two grimy-looking fucks. They weren’t into specifics of the deals they tried to make, and that was the thing about demons. Specifics. They were wordy bastards - great at mind games and twisting phrases and promises around until it sounded like a sweet deal, but the fine print was always missed. Needless to say, the two men had made their own separate deals that night. Neither one of them made it to see the sunrise. 

After that night, Mito allowed you to travel with him. When you made yourself useful and found him unsuspecting souls full of grief and gluttony and, Mito’s personal favorite, rage. He particularly enjoyed the souls that looked sweet on the outside; soft and sincere sounding with their crosses around their necks. Underneath all of that tried-hard smile was something sinister; something Mito claimed to be the sweetest flavor of sin. 

You weren’t sure how all of his deals were struck. You were positive the women, and some of the men, probably asked for the deal to be sealed with a kiss. Sex. Not all of them prefer a handshake and words of good faith. One guy, in particular, wanted the deal to be sealed with a little flame, making Mito do a weird magic trick of using his finger like a candle. 

Yeah, that was a weird one. 

None of them made it past a week. Some - if they were lucky - got a few months. 

That’s how you ended up backstage in a band’s dressing room. You’d met the lead singer at a club they’d been performing at. He’d sauntered up to the bar pressing the crotch of his jeans against your ass and tried to play it off like he was just leaning against the bar - waiting for a drink just like you.  

The dislike for him was instant. 

You allowed yourself to listen to him ramble. His pickup lines were incredibly atrocious. He thought being in a band made him instantly fuckable. 

The only way you saw out of your predicament was to play into it and invite him to meet Mito. There were four other members in their group - four other people to come along for the ride. It didn’t take long for you to excuse yourself to their dressing room so Mito could do his whole song and dance. 

Show them he’s a demon and did his best not to freak them out. He was out there buttering them up. Five fresh souls for the taking. 

Whenever he made a fresh deal Mito liked to fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a fresh soul, or a fresh kill when a particularly delicious sinner sat down at his table was too good to pass up (here is where the word games came into play). Whatever it was, he came back to you in such a euphoric high the tattoos that painted his skin writhed like a living thing.  

You weren’t complaining, not really. Your only complaint - if you had one - would be on those days when he’d made multiple transactions in a day. You cared very much when your overstimulated body threatened to rip in half as his cock pushed back inside your bruised walls; fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His teeth leaving impressions in the mounds of your breasts.

There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to come back in one of those highs. He’d warned you to stay put and that taking one foot outside the room meant punishment. 

Mito wanted you close and easy to find. You, however, were growing impatient. 

You hated how easy it became for him to read you, especially during sex.

There were times you enjoyed playing hard to please and Mito? Well, he enjoyed playing into it just to tear you apart and turn you into a crumbling mess beneath him. It was his way of reminding you that he owned you - mind, body, and soul - and while you continued to play your little games, it was only because he allowed the facade of freedom to dance like little sugar plums around in your head.

But there were moments he stripped those sugar plums from your head. 

The first night he’d marked you had been in the dressing room of someone famous. It’d make you nervous to be around them not because of who they were - you would have cared less about their money and a false sense of infamy. No, it made your skin crawl to watch these people negotiate deals with Mito as if they were making a setlist. They were too stupid to realize they needed to read the fine print; to know that fine print was open to change whenever Mito saw fit. 

You tried to wait like he’d asked, just like now, but the place made your skin crawl. You’d grabbed your bag and had just made it to the door, your hand on the knob twisting and swinging it open when - like Houdini - Mito was just there. 

An itching sensation began to grow between your shoulder blades. One where you couldn’t tell if it was a warning, you just being antsy to flee, or an actual damn itch. Whatever it was, maybe you should’ve listened to the first part, but just the memory of being left alone - again - inside another dressing room left your brain pleading with you to flee. 

Mito be damned. 

You slid off of the couch and your chunky boots made a resonating thud inside the empty room. 

Yup. Time to go. 

The second your hand wrapped around the doorknob and pulled the door towards you flashbacks of that night replayed through your head at warp speed. 

He didn’t seem surprised at your attempted departure. Instead, with an arm draped against the doorframe, Mito seemed like he was actually waiting for you to open it. A flurry of thought erupted in your head on how you could explain what you were doing - what he was seeing. You could easily tell him you’d sensed his presence at the door and were just trying to make it easier for him to enter. You knew, however, when reflecting obsidian eyes glanced down at your bag clutched tightly in your hands the jig was up. 

“And where, little lamb, do you think you were going?” 

“Mito I wasn’t-“ 

“And don’t lie to me,” he continued. His words over saturating yours as if he wasn’t finished talking to begin with. 

His body immediately encompassed what small space was left between you, him, and your attempted exit. His pitiless eyes were still staring down at you - waiting for a response - while he closed and secured the door behind him. 

You already knew the minute you saw him at the door you weren’t going anywhere. Now that he’d locked you in, sent your pulse racing with excitement or fear you weren’t too sure which was which. Lately, the two seemed to blend together. 

He was pushing you back farther into the room; your feet backpedaling into a moment of peace before you knew what would happen. 

“I was tired of waiting for you to get back. I was going out for a smoke.”

“I told you to wait here,” he growled. 

“And I wanted a smoke.”

You wanted to sound unmoved by the fluorescent gleam of rage billowing up in his eyes. At any minute his left could wash over to the bleak white that promised he was minutes from breaking. The facade of playing a mere mortal man bleeding away until all that stood before you was Death. 

You were so hyper-focused on him that you weren’t aware he’d backed you against the built-in makeup counter until your lower back came into painful contact with its edge. Just as a sharp gasp huffed from your lips Mito’s hand struck out - fluid and snake-like - to wrap around your throat. Constricting just enough to remind you it was there. 

“Little lamb, I told you what would happen if you didn’t listen.”

He did. He’d told you many times. Mito even embellished his warnings like a tiny little nightmare meant to keep children from adventuring out into the woods. 

Don’t go out there children. That’s where the wolf resides and he’ll tear you to bits. 

You always were a whore for things with sharp teeth. 

“You did, but I can’t help it,” your words gasped around his tightening grip. “You know I love to see if you’re a demon of his word.”

You watched intently as his eyes scanned your face. The Smokey trundles of white that began to billow up inside his left eye as his nostrils flared. A part of you felt victorious. A matching smirk was seconds away from sliding the corner of your lips upward until it was cut short. 

Mito released his hold from your neck, his body moving back just enough to allow space for him to turn you around to face the mirror. His hips closed the few inches he’d given while he kicked your feet apart. 

“You love being punished so much, don’t you, little lamb. Always testing your limits and one of these days you’re going to push too far.” As he spoke, his words curled at the base of your spine brimming with a threat that sent your heart thundering in your chest. “You’re so gluttonous for my punishment, let's see how you handle this.” 

The reflection in the mirror showcased your uncertainty. Your brow creases with the weight of unspoken questions as to what Mito could possibly mean. For a split second, ice-cold fear encapsulated your mind that maybe this was it. Maybe your deal was done and he was finished with you. 

That thought was ripped from your mind as Mito pushed your skirt up to your hips and a sharp smack of his hand against your ass brought you back to the present. Looking in the mirror, you could see his right eye was brimming with fire while the other had been completely consumed with white. 

He pressed up against you to keep you trapped between his body and the counter. Mito’s eyes watching as you watched him begin to remove his jacket and then the colorful shirt that had lived underneath it. 

No matter how many times you’d seen him naked, Mito never ceased to catch the air in your lungs. Your body forgot to register to breathe as you drank in the caramel tone of his skin and the museum of art that now slithered against his flesh. His muscles bunched and flexed as he tossed his clothes aside, and already you could feel the fabric of your underwear become soaked. 

He dragged a hand from the base of your spine and slowly moved it up until his hand laced in your hand. His fingers twinning in its strands and pulling back hard enough to tear a scream from you. 

With his free hand, he spanked you hard on the same cheek. The sting dulled out the momentary pain you’d felt.

“Tell me. Let me hear you say what you want.” 

“I want you.”

Another hard smack against your ass left your hands scrambling for something to hold you up; anything at all.  The only thing you logically seemed to find was the mirror itself. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, little lamb. I know you want me. You’re soaking my clothes.”

Licking your lips, you caught his gaze in the mirror and held it. Your chest heaving as you struggled to get out the words you knew would ruin you. 

“I want you-I want you to fuck me, Mito. My lord. My master.”

You threw in the last for fun. You knew he loved it when you used pet names for him. One that reminded you both of who - what - he truly was. 

“As my slave commands.”

You weren’t about to correct him, because you were. You knew without him you were nothing and when he dropped to his knees in front of your cunt with his tongue pushing between your folds, you knew Mito worshiped you too. 

_____________

Comments and reblogs are always welcome. Thank you for reading! XoXo

[yoonia]

Chance Encounter | 06

⟶ Title | Chance Encounter

⟶ Summary | Sometimes your fangirling can cause you a lot of problems. Add alcohol and your clumsy thumb into the mix, followed by waking up to an accidental DM getting sent on Instagram, and your life changes forever. The entire mess leads you to an odd form of friendship with the man who you had always admired. But what happens when your two worlds collide, blurring the lines between reality and dreams? Will you be able to return to your real-life once this is over?

⟶ Pairings | Christian Yu ( DPR +IAN / Yu Barom ) x reader ⟶ Genre | Teacher’s Aide!AU, College!AU, Fluff, Future Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature theme and upcoming smut chapters; Mentions of alcohol consumption, sexual tension, flirting, accidental text messages with revealing pictures ⟶ Word count | 9k words ⟶ Story Masterlist: Chance Encounter | ⤎ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Music Playlist | Ko-fi ⟶ Cross post | AO3

⟶ Author's note | It's finally here! After a long wait, I have finally returned with this story. I think this would be the perfect time to reveal the reason why I haven't been updating this series in a while and that is...*drum roll*...because google docs lost the entire files for the rest of the chapters lol I'm back, though, and I have every intention to finish this series because I still have a ton of ideas to share featuring this amazing man. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Six

“Are you guys still at the mall? Seriously, did you have to take so long to pick your—bathing suit?” 

Pressing your hand on your mouth, you muffle the sound of your laughter while Christian continues fuming on the other side of the call. “Bathing suit? Damn, you sound older than Momo’s Dad,” you almost choke as you tease him, unable to stop yourself from laughing. 

“Okay, bikini, swimsuit, whatever,” he says, grumbling on the phone, causing you to laugh harder. 

“It’s not that we lost track of time because of the bikinis,” you answer him with your voice lowered, not wanting to draw any more attention from the people roaming around you when you had already drawn enough eyes on you just by giggling to yourself. Having people glancing your way is already making you feel uncomfortable enough, even more so when it feels like you are hiding a big secret from the world and you have an irrational fear of getting caught growing on you. 

Speaking to Christian like this makes you feel that way. It feels like you are keeping an important secret from the world. Although you have to admit that this is exactly what he is—a wonderful secret that you want to keep to yourself for a bit longer. 

Thinking about this puts a smile on your face. One that stays with you when you cheerfully add, “We just had a little detour while shopping, that’s all. We’ll be back on track and finish things up in no time.” 

Just as you are saying these words to him, you cast a glance towards the other side of the store where you currently are. There, you see Momo leaning over one of the glass showcases lined inside the store with rapt attention, eyes glowing over the collection of expensive branded watches lined up properly on display. Right beside her, Em is basically doing the same, and it is almost comical to see their expressions mirroring one another, with the bright lights coming out of the glass display reflecting on their faces to make them shine. And neither of them is even bothered by it, too mesmerised by the flashy collection that they have been eyeing on. 

“Is ‘detour’ a code word for saying that you guys are getting carried away at the mall? You’re not trying to buy everything you see on display, are you?” Christian speaks on the phone again, and you are forced to stifle your laughter as you listen to what he is saying. Even without seeing him, you can already picture his pouty face and the curious frown that he normally gives you when he is trying to understand something that he couldn’t get a good grasp on, which often happens when you share some of the things that you do when you are not with him. You turn to look at the watch counter, watching silently as Momo is helping Em choose between a couple of watches that the storekeeper has personally picked out for them. 

“No, it’s an actual detour. We sort of encountered some kind of—distraction.” A smile comes to your face when you recall what had happened. To remember the reason why you and Momo had ended up in the exclusive watch store with Em, the last person on earth that you would expect to be hanging out with. 

It was quite awkward at first to have Em join your shopping date, when you barely knew anything about her except for what you have learned through the few cordial encounters you had with her, especially after the cryptic comment she made about the gift she is looking for. 

But you are thankful that you had Momo here with you today, as she managed to defuse the situation, knowing exactly well about your habit to overthink and worry about the things that you don’t fully understand. Once Momo jumped in to break the ice, you finally gained enough information to not be as wary as you were when you first met Em earlier. 

“What kind of gift are you thinking of getting?” Momo asked her while the three of you were browsing through the shops and did some window shopping before making any decisions about where to go, and Em—having no knowledge of the turmoil happening in your head at that moment—nonchalantly answered, 

“Something that would give a nice message as a congratulatory and send-off gift.” 

Momo stole a glance your way then before asking. “Send-off? Is it for a friend of yours?” 

“Yes,” Em said, looking at the two of you with a bashful smile that told you more than any spoken word could. “He’s a really special friend of mine who is moving to the States sometime next month. He got this terrific offer that would allow him to make more music, which is basically a huge upgrade to what he’s been doing here lately,” she explained, then she turned to you with a request, “He’s also a good friend of Rome. I mean, Christian. Since they’ve been spending time together quite often lately, would it be okay if I ask you not to say anything to Ian when you see him? I don’t want to spoil the surprise too soon. We’ll be leaving for the States together once the date is set, but my friends and I are planning to have a send-off party the weekend before. I’m thinking of giving the gift to him then.” 

The smile that came to your face was almost spontaneous. The relief that you felt must have been palpable, yet you couldn’t get yourself to reel it in. Though you did manage to control your composure when you promised her, “Your secret is safe with me,” while you tried to qualm the feeling of guilt for having suspected the relationship that she has with Christian. 

On the phone, Christian gives you a sarcastic scoff and says, “Riiiight—” 

“It’s not what you think, I promise.” 

“No, I get it. Those discount sale offers can be quite intriguing,” he says, obviously having the wrong assumption about what you are truly up to. You wish you could explain, yet this is just another secret that you would have to keep from him. At least until the end of the month, when Em would finally be able to reveal her surprise gift for her special friend. “Look, just go ahead and have fun with your friend. You deserve it,” Christian adds, though his voice sounds lighter, no more of his feigned annoyance is heard. In its place, you can hear his smile, which only draws your own to appear. 

“Thank you,” you say to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be busy right now?” 

“Yeah, I’m in the middle of a break, but we’re getting back into it in a minute,” he says, already sounding a bit distracted just as the noises behind him start growing a bit louder. “Call me when you’re back. Maybe, you know, you can give me a little preview—” 

Knowing where this is heading, you quickly cut him off before he could say the words, “Goodbye, Ian.” 

He chuckles on the phone. “See you later, baby,” he says, before ending the call, all while your heart is racing so violently in your chest for the endearment that he had just given you. Immediately, your face grows hot, and your mind seems to be swirling up to the air with the joy blooming inside you. 

Still feeling as if you are on cloud nine, you almost miss it when Momo turns to call you over, “I think we’ve found the perfect one. Come here and take a look at this, try to see if you like it too.” 

Putting your phone away, you rush towards your best friend and your new shopping companion, Em, who appears just as giddy and excited as Momo is to show what they have found. Seeing their combined reactions, you cannot help but share the same sentiment, and it adds a bit of pep to your footsteps as you come to join them in finding the perfect gift for Em’s secret crush. 

“How about this one?” Em asks you as she shows you yet another pair of bikinis that seems a bit too revealing compared to what you are used to. You make no comment about her choice of outfit as she hands the delicate pair to you, choosing to take a good look at the piece to appreciate her genuine effort in helping you to find the piece that might fit your taste more. 

Ever since the three of you came into the store, both Em and Momo have been assisting you to find the perfect pair for you to buy, as they took notice of your indecisiveness right away. Everything you are seeing in the store has been lovely that it is making it impossible for you to choose, yet the two girls have only been of little help to you. Because when Em keeps choosing the most revealing and extremely daring ones she could find in the store which makes your face burn each time you try to imagine yourself wearing them, Momo has been choosing the ones with the brightest colours and flashy frills that you would never be able to wear without getting your face burning in embarrassment.

This time, however, the piece that you are holding in your hand seems to have caught your eye. It is a solid coffee-coloured triangle set with beaded strings, and a halter top that covers just a bit more skin compared to the previous ones she showed you. The piece sure looks like a major upgrade from the small black piece that she showed you earlier with the top which barely covered your boobs and the thin strip bottom, and while it looks revealing, it seems a bit more appropriate to wear at Momo’s house this weekend—where some or any of her family members might be present—compared to the other ones she has shown you so far.

“You know what? This one actually looks quite nice,” you say to her, acknowledging her taste in style and suddenly believing that you might actually look good in something that seems quite daring. 

Your comment seems to please her as her face instantly brightens. And for some reason, it makes you just as happy to see her getting excited for you. This new feeling is quite—odd. Not more than an hour ago, the air of awkwardness that was present had made it hard for you to start a conversation with her without Momo’s help. You cannot deny that the underlying doubt that you felt about her relationship with Christian had made you feel inferior while being around her. Added with the way she looks and dresses and how she wears her confidence so openly, something that is quite the opposite if compared to you. 

But that feeling is no longer present now when you have finally gotten to know her a bit better, and once you got to see her bubbly personality that seems to fit your and Momo’s energy perfectly.

Once that bridge has been crossed, you begin to see and understand why she is able to get along with Christian and his friend group. The more you spend time with her, the more you are able to see how kind and friendly Em really is. And that despite her pristine appearance, she could be quite—clumsy. 

Much like you are.

Perhaps knowing that you aren’t completely different from one another has been the reason why you are beginning to feel comfortable hanging out with her without anyone else’s helping you.

“Great! I knew you’d like it. The set comes with a cover-up too,” she says, plucking the thin piece of coverup from the rack that appears to be a part of the set for you to try on. “Here, try them all on together and see if it’s something you’d like. Oh, and try the black one too,” she insists, quickly snatching the similar set in black before handing them to you along with the coffee one. She looks at the sets you are now holding and sighs dramatically. “I still think the previous one was hotter, though.” 

“Oh, no,” you quickly say to her, shaking your head when you recall the one she mentioned. “The black one you picked for me was not a bikini top, those were nipple patches.” 

Your comment makes her laugh. “Yeah, I admit, those were more daring than the rest. But I have a couple of them at home and they’re really comfortable. And I bet you’d look really good in them.” 

You almost grimace as you try to picture yourself wearing those tiny things, though you hide it the best you could, knowing that Em has rocked those types of bikinis perfectly and is evidently loving them to bits. You know this because she has shown you a few photos of her wearing them from her social media, and you have to admit, she does look good wearing all the daring pieces you saw that you almost feel envious of her confidence.

Em leaves you be as you make your way to the fitting room at the back of the store, only to suddenly return before you can get there so she can slip a couple of new items into your arms to add to the pile that you are about to try on. 

“Here, try on these too while you’re at it. Can’t hurt to know how they would look on you, can it?” she says, while you only roll your eyes and laugh at her.

“Fine, if it makes you happy.” 

Sliding into one of the vacant booths, you finally get to take a look at what you have gotten with you so far. Aside from the two complete sets that Em got you earlier, you also find the black top which you classified as nipple patches among the pile. This one is adorned with gold chains tying the top up to hang around your neck, making it look a bit more classy compared to the ones that Em initially found when she first started helping you. 

Shaking your head and chuckling at Em’s sneaky antics, you put the tiny thing away to have a look at the others. Other than a new pair that looks similar to the black and coffee sets that you liked earlier, you find another bikini set which Em managed to slip in. This one looks just as revealing as the other ones, if not just a bit more, with a brighter colour that makes them pop in your eyes. You hold up the red halter bikini top which comes together with a thong-like bottom that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Although, there is a sheer long skirt that comes with the pair, what seems to be a coverup that looks to be sufficient enough to cover the bottom half if you need it. 

Surprisingly, you find yourself liking this piece as well. Just when you are pressing the pieces against your body just to imagine how it would look on you, you hear a knock at the door before Momo speaks to you from the other side. 

“Em told me that you’re in here. So, have you finally found something you like?” she teases, while you can only shake your head and laugh. 

You look down at your stash with a sigh. “Will you be patient? Perfection takes time.” 

A scoff is heard from your best friend, and you can almost imagine her rolling her eyes at you. “Or you’re just being too picky. Hurry up and try them on, then come out here so we can see it. Em already approved the ones I picked.”

You smile at your reflection in the mirror when you recall Momo slipping into a fitting booth with an arm full of bright-coloured bikini sets. “Why should I show you mine if I didn’t get to see what you’re buying?” 

“You’ll get to see them later when we’re paying for them. I only want to see yours to make sure you’ll look hot in my jacuzzi,” she says, making you laugh. 

“Okay, let me try these on. Now leave me alone.” 

You hear nothing from Momo other than a simple, “Okay,” and you start choosing the ones you want to see yourself in. Surprisingly drawn towards the red bikini set, you immediately pick that one to try first. While you can never possibly imagine yourself wearing it this weekend, you want to see if it would be something that you could wear sometime in the future. 

The thin fabric feels like silk on your skin, but they are surprisingly comfortable. You are originally not one to wear something this revealing, always have been choosing the modest ones whenever you could, yet you can definitely see yourself in this set even if it may not happen for a while. 

“Which one are you trying on now?” you hear Momo asking, and you absentmindedly answer her while admiring your own reflection, turning left and right to see yourself from every angle, making sure that the piece actually works for you before you can buy it. 

“It’s the red one that Em found for me.” 

“Really?” you can hear Em squealing from outside, excited to hear that you are trying out the piece that she seems to like. It makes you stop to hear her voice, realising that she is also out there, crowding the front of your booth with Momo. 

“Seriously? Are you guys actually standing out there together waiting for me to show these?” 

“We just want to see them,” Momo whines, while Em chimes in curiously,

“So? How do they look? Do you like them? Don’t they look gorgeous?” 

They actually do look gorgeous, and it makes you look more appealing while wearing them. You feel the sudden urge and excitement to show them, especially Em, just to make her happy to see you trying this on. Yet, thinking about stepping out of the booth right this minute makes you feel a bit insecure. 

“Um—do I have to step out and show you guys? They’re really—well, I feel exposed,” you hesitantly admit, feeling every bit self-conscious about stepping out of this booth.

It is one thing to wear this on a beach or while you are lounging in a fancy jacuzzi. It is another thing to be flaunting it around while being in the middle of a mall. With strangers around you to see. Momo seems to get this when you hear her snickering from the other side of the door.

“Then take pictures of them and send them to me so we can have a look.”

“Ooh, good idea!” Taking out your phone, you start taking pictures of yourself. Posing right in front of the mirror, you find the best angles that would be able to show the set that you are wearing, before covering your bottom half with the sheer skirt and taking photos of yourself wearing the complete set as well. “Hang on, let me try out the others before sending them to you.” 

You barely hear Momo’s response as you quickly change out of the first bikini set, then repeat everything again as you try out the other two which you liked earlier—the coffee and black ones that you would feel more confident to wear. Feeling cold, you rush to quickly send all the pictures, adding a short comment for the coffee-coloured one in the message, ‘I’m getting this one for the weekend.’

Once you are done, you place your phone aside and change back into your clothes as you wait for Momo’s reaction to the pictures you sent. When you hear nothing from them, you simply figure that they might be still looking through the photos and think nothing of it and focus on sorting out the pieces you tried on before taking them with you. 

But then Momo calls out to you from outside, getting you confused when she asks, “What’s taking you so long? Did you take the pictures yet?” 

You stop in the middle of tidying yourself up. “What do you mean? I sent them all to you already.” 

“Really? I’m getting nothing on my phone though.” 

Wondering what the hell went wrong, you pick up the phone to see what happened with the messages you sent her. Only to have your stomach dropping once you open your message app, finally realising what you have done. Because you already did send out the messages and the pictures, except that you had not been messaging Momo the entire time. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” you curse at yourself when you see Christian’s name and his profile picture on top of the message thread. Panicking, you quickly begin deleting all the photos, even though deep down, you know that it would be no use. Minutes have gone by since they were sent out, and while Christian would often take a while to check on his phone whenever he is busy, you can already see that he had seen the pictures already, even if it had only been mere seconds before you started deleting them. 

A sharp gasp and a desperate cry leave your lips as you drop down to the floor, feeling like your legs are giving up on you, drawing Momo’s concern when she can hear everything from outside. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” 

Covering your face with your palms, you groan defeatedly before answering, “Nothing’s wrong. Just give me a minute.” 

With a deep breath, you pick up your cell phone again to call Christian, who answers the call within the first ring, confirming your suspicions that he has been holding his phone the entire time to witness your shenanigans. The photos showing off the outfits you were trying on wouldn’t be such a big deal if you hadn’t been showing that much skin, or the funny and sultry poses you did to show off the sets which were originally meant for your best friend, or the fact that you have not even been dating this man for more than a day for you to be showing him—all of these things together. 

“Did you open the text message? Please tell me you didn’t get it,” you immediately question him even before he could finish saying hello.

“Mhhmm—” is the only response he is giving you. 

“That wasn’t supposed to be for you,” you continue blabbering, hoping for any slight chance that he might have not seen them and you had been quick enough to delete them before he could. “I’m so sorry. I was too shy to come out and show them to Momo when she asked to take a look so I took the photos for her instead.” 

“Mhhmm—” 

“What does that mean? Oh my God, you’ve seen them,” you worriedly question his lack of response and groan deeply when you realise what had happened. Though knowing that he had no doubt seen the photos only makes you grow more concerned about other things. “Oh no, you’re still working, aren’t you? Did anyone else see it? Is someone there with you?” 

Christian chuckles softly on the phone. “Yes, I’m still at work. Don’t worry, Dabin had just stepped out of the room when I opened your text.” 

“Okay—” you softly answer, though your voice fades to a muffled groan as you sit back against the booth and hug your folded legs as if it can help you hide from the world, which is clearly not missed by Christian. 

“What’s wrong? You sound funny.” 

Sighing, you refuse to raise your head as you answer, “Nothing. Just trying to figure out how to bury myself so I would stop feeling embarrassed.” 

While you are busy covering your burning face, you can almost hear the smile on his face when Christian speaks again, “I guess I have to get used to this, huh?” 

“To what? What do you mean?” 

Chuckling softly, he answers you with a teasing voice, “Getting stray messages coming in when least expected. I don’t mind it, though.” 

Burying your face deeper into your folded knees, you let out another groan. “Please stop. God, I wish I was at least drunk.” Thinking of how often this has happened between the two of you, you can only sigh to yourself. How could you have forgotten that you have been messaging constantly with Christian while you were out the whole day? “Fucking stupid. I should’ve paid more attention.” 

Your comment makes him laugh, though he quickly tries to console you by saying, “Hey, it’s fine. The messages are gone on my part too. I was just about to ask you about them when you finally noticed and they started disappearing.” 

“Thank God I was quick enough, though,” you say with a sigh. “I’m sorry again. Please forget that this happened.” 

You hear him chuckling softly on the phone. “Forget? Hah—Now, that would be a bit hard to do,” he teases, making you smile. It is quite funny how easily he makes you feel calmer, when you were so close to crying over your own stupidity merely moments ago. 

“Ian, please.” 

“I’m just teasing you, baby. Don’t worry about it, okay? Besides, no one else had seen them and they’re no longer on my phone. Although, I wish I had saved them—” 

Your cheeks have been growing warm with how gentle he is when speaking to you and calling you with this new endearment that he has chosen for you, but that quickly changes with his teasing that you roll your eyes. “Really?” 

He laughs. “I’m joking, baby. I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, I can always keep them in my memory—” he says, while humming softly as if he is closing his eyes to recall the photos again, “—or wait for a chance to have you showing them yourself for a private preview.” 

“Hah, we’ll see about that, Mister,” you scoff at him, making him laugh. But as you find yourself feeling better and feeling less like an utter idiot, you cannot help but whisper to him, “Thank you, Ian.” 

“Anytime. Now go on and continue shopping with your friend. Don’t mind me while I’m here trying to work and not think about those photos. I’m going to be dealing with a ton of stuff here anyway, so I probably won’t remember any of them by the end of the day,” he says, drawing a smile to your face. You feel grateful for the way he is able to help you qualm your trepidation and dread simply with his gentle voice and comforting words. 

Yet, in a typical fashion of his, Christian reminds you of his mischievous ways as he teases you for the last time before ending the call, “Hey, babe? I think I liked the red one the best on you.” 

Past the entire shenanigans happening during your shopping spree, followed by the busy week where you had to go through classes and assignments while Christian was keeping up with work, the weekend finally comes. 

There was nobody home when you arrived at Momo’s house in the morning, as her family members were mostly out for the weekend, so you and Momo got to enjoy the entire house to yourselves and hang out in the new jacuzzi for as long as you like. While lounging in the hot water during the afternoon, the two of you talk about the day you spent at the mall. You share with her your apprehensions about Em and how your feelings changed after spending time with her and getting to see what kind of person Em truly was. Then Momo shares her curiosity about the secret crush that Em harbours and who it might have been directed to. 

“Could it be Dabin?” she curiously asks you after chugging down her cold beer, while you shake your head. 

“Not sure. She only said that it was one of Ian’s music producer friends, and Dabin has a lot of projects coming up with Ian so I don’t think it would make sense for him to leave,” you tell her, to which Momo groans softly. 

“Yeah, that would be hard to figure out then cause we know Christian has a ton of friends, and I doubt you’ve met every single one of them already.” 

Hearing this makes you smile. “You’re right, he does have a lot of friends and connections.” 

“Speaking of Ian,” she suddenly says, turning to you with a sly grin on her face. “Are you excited about tonight?” 

Your eyes grow wide, and you immediately feel your nerves spiking when you are reminded about what is happening tonight. After having only met Christian in person twice the entire week and only during classes, with both of you being so busy with your daily schedules, he finally called to propose taking you out on a date once he is done with his project this week. Once you found out that Momo has another plan tonight after hanging out with you, both you and Christian agreed to set the date for tonight, once he is done with the day and after Momo drops you back at your place when she leaves at sunset. 

“I’m more nervous than excited, to be honest,” you admit to her, while Momo waves her hand at you. 

“It’s fine. Everything’s going to be just fine,” she says, consoling you in her own way. “You’ve gone out with him before, so it’s going to be nothing different than those times, right?” 

You ponder about it for a moment, and it only makes you frown just to think about seeing him tonight. 

Because, no, absolutely not. It wouldn’t be anything like the times you shared with him previously. 

Because this time, it would be a date. A real date. Not just a simple meet-up at the coffee place like the times you had to meet him after class to discuss about the class assignments, or when you came with him to the work party, or the night you joined him and his friends for drinks. This is different. It would be just the two of you—no friends, no assignments, no other people around that he has to meet up with as he is handling his business. It would be just you and Christian doing whatever it is that he has planned for you. 

“I don’t think there’s anything for you to worry about, though. The guy likes you, and you like him too. I’m sure things will be great. Just like how it’s always been. Both of you are similar in a way, so I’m sure he’ll make it comfortable for you instead of making things awkward for a first date.” 

You rest your back against the side of the jacuzzi, with the hot water bubbling against your sides, massaging your toned muscles and rubbing away the tension you have in your body. You relish the pleasure you are getting while taking in what Momo is saying. She wasn’t completely wrong. Things with Christian have been flowing so easily. You have always been so comfortable when you are near him, while he seems to have always been able to sense your mood, always keeping up with your pace instead of going about things in a more rushed and lavish way. 

Perhaps the only thing that makes you worried is the fact that things have also been proceeding the way you had never once thought they would. How everything that is happening now feels like a dream, and there is a deep fear haunting you that once you are with him, once everything between the two of you changes to a new direction, you would be forced to wake up and face reality, to see that nothing is as beautiful as what your mind keeps telling you to see. 

Just like what happened back then with—

Shaking away your worries, you tell yourself that things are different now. Things have to be different. Because you have no idea how you would be able to deal with it if things turn the other way around once again. 

“You know what? Maybe you’re right. I’m worrying too much,” you finally say to Momo, making her smile with relief, not realising that you have also been consoling yourself by saying this.

“Good. That’s the spirit. Just enjoy everything and have fun with him. I’ll help you get ready if you want to and we’ll make sure you’ll be knocking him off of his feet once he sees you tonight.” 

Closing your eyes, you try to relax and give in to the comforting warmth around you, trying not to overthink and let your agitation takes over when you are supposed to be having a good time. Both now, as you are lounging in this fancy jacuzzi without having to spend a single penny, and later, when you are about to see the man who has always managed to cause your heartbeat to race wildly in your chest. 

You remain in the hot tub only for a while later, stepping out just as both of you start feeling more relaxed and you are ready to continue the lazy afternoon pampering each other and relaxing on her cozy pool-house. It isn’t until sunset when you are finally ready to leave, with Momo dropping you off before she heads out to where she needs to be. 

“Remember—” she says, once you stepped out of her car, “Don’t be so nervous and relax, enjoy your night with him. You won’t be able to have a good time if you’re worrying too much.” 

“I know. Thanks, babe,” you answer her gratefully, somehow finding yourself believing in your own words this time.

“Anytime,” she says, before quickly adding, “Oh, and wear something sexy!” 

“Goodbye, Momo,” is all you say to her as you shut the car door close, and you soon watch her car rolling out of the parking lot, leaving you all on your own to get ready for your first night out with your new boyfriend. 

[06.58 PM] From Christian: I’ll pick you up around eight. Will that be okay?

[07.03 PM] To Christian: I’ll be waiting ;)

[07.04 PM] From Christian: I can’t wait to see you :)

Just when you had thought you were ready for your fateful first date, the text that Christian sent you only makes you feel on the edge. Once again, you feel tense. The tension that you feel as you are reading his texts may not be as daunting as it was before, when your imagination kept running wild and your insecurities kept taking over with still many hours left before the date happens, yet it doesn’t mean that you are not nervous enough about tonight. 

The thought of meeting up and being alone with him tonight seems nerve-racking. But just like how you managed to get over your worries earlier, you keep repeating the same comforting words in your head like a spell as you continue getting yourself ready to see him. 

Everything is going to be okay. 

You continue reminding yourself of this as time continues to pass. The clock is ticking, your heartbeat keeps racing, and your feet would not stop pacing each time you try to relax. You can barely able to get yourself together with nothing distracting your running thoughts, but by the time eight o’clock rolls around, you have gathered up enough composure to stop pacing around your living room and pulling at your dress as you wait for him to arrive. The long trails of discarded clothes that you left behind in your bedroom when you couldn’t decide what to wear would have to wait until you return home. Right now, all you can think of is how you are going to keep it together once he is here.

A knock comes at the door, and it makes your heart do funny things even before you get to see him in person. After giving yourself a brief pep talk while shaking your trembling hands to make them calm, you finally open the door. Your heart begins doing that funny thing again, skipping a beat and rushing at the sight of Christian standing right in front of the door, waiting for you, wearing his dashing smile on his face while being surrounded by an air of confidence that makes you look at him in awe.

Stunned speechless, you say nothing to him, giving him a chance to take the sight of you in. His eyes trail down on you with an appreciative look. Going from your face to your dress, and it makes your skin grow warm under his perusing gaze. Seeing that you are still unable to speak, a smile expands so subtly on his face as he greets you first, “Hey.” 

“H-hey,” you stammer in response, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“You look great,” he says, making your cheeks burn even hotter. 

“Thanks,” you chuckle softly. “You too.” 

Christian laughs softly at this. “Are you ready? I have an Uber ride waiting for us downstairs. I hope you don’t mind. I figured if we were both going to have drinks afterwards—” 

You look up to him as he speaks and feel an instant sense of relief. Because it suddenly becomes quite obvious to you that he might be just as nervous as you currently are when you notice him rushing as he speaks, and he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands when he keeps slipping them in and out of his pockets or running them through his immaculate hair. 

“I’m set to go. Thanks for thinking ahead,” you quickly reassure him before he could continue with his rambling, and a visible look of relief appears on his face. 

“After you,” he says as he steps aside to let you join him once you have your jacket and purse with you, locking the door behind you as you leave for the night.   

It is a warm night, so the two of you decide to have the ride drop you off a block away from your destination so you can enjoy the short walk there, with the sight of the city’s main river accompanying your walk. As you walk side by side with him, his hand entwined gently with yours to keep you by his side and the conversation flowing slowly as you talk about your day, you find yourself steadily getting more and more comfortable. The tension that has been following you the whole day soon fades, while the familiar ease that you have often felt when you are with him starts coming back to you. 

It doesn’t take long before you finally reach the restaurant that he had chosen for tonight’s date. Situated right at the end of the boardwalk that you have been walking on and not too far from the clear river is a quaint pizza place, partly hidden from the main road but still open to the view around the neighbourhood to allow you to enjoy the comfortable atmosphere around you. He finds a table for two outside, quite a distance away from the sidewalk that you can have your own space without having to worry about the passing crowd. A soft tune of music is playing from the restaurant, giving you a pleasant welcome as you both begin perusing the menu. 

He makes a suggestion to order their signature dish, the cheese pizza, which you are completely fine with, while you choose the appetiser and one of their pasta plates to share between you two. As he hasn’t been drinking alcohol as often lately, Christian chooses a glass of their special draft beer to taste and a bottle of soda to go with his dinner, while you order a glass of cheap wine that costs nearly the same as his orders. 

This is all happening so fluidly—how you talk about the menu without worry and choosing what the two of you would like to have and share—that it feels almost natural to do something like this. There is no hint of awkwardness existing between you, helping you to forget that you are on an actual date instead of casually hanging out with him, even if the feeling lasts just for a brief moment. 

Your stomach has been in knots since you left home with him. While the short walk here and the conversation that was shared from then until this moment have helped a little to put you at ease, he would constantly bring back the tension either with his gestures or by being particularly flirty. Each time his fingers come brushing gently against your hand, sparks instantly start flying in the air around you. Your skin would tingle when you are talking to him and he leans closer to listen with rapt attention, and your chest would feel tight when his eyes are looking deeply into yours. 

And then he reminds you the reason why you have always been so captivated with him and how you began to harbour a deep crush on him, as he shares with you about everything that he has been up to lately—of the long hours he spent filming with his crew and the long nights he spent working on post-production, and also about how he is slowly diving back into making his music again. It is the moment you look into his eyes when the flutter in your chest returns, when you get to see the clear sight of his love and passion for what he does, the look that is so captivating to see that you are once again lost for words. 

The waiter returns to your table just then, setting down the drinks that Christian ordered before pouring the red wine into your glass. Once he is done, Christian leans forward to get closer. 

“So—how about you? You said this week has been busy for you,” he inquires so suddenly, sounding genuinely curious to know what you have been up to this week while he has been busy with his own thing and you haven’t seen each other after attending his last class. 

“Oh, just the usual,” you answer with a shrug. You tell him everything about the classes you went to this week and all the mundane things you would usually do during the day. But then as you begin sharing with him about your assignments, and the exciting things you do during your part-time job in the night, your excitement grows. He should be able to notice it from the tone of your voice, or the way you keep twirling the wine glass in your hand as you speak. Either way, there seems to be no way Christian would miss the way you are enjoying these things, as he keeps his eyes on you the entire time, looking deeply at you as he listens, taking in everything you are sharing with him. 

“Speaking of your work—” you hum, suddenly recalling the day you joined him during filming. “I kind of missed being in that environment, to be able to see you work and see how you handle things in the set. Your crew seems so fun to work with too.” 

Hearing this makes him smile. “You’re right. I’m lucky to be working with a group of talented people. Working with them has been fun,” he says, before he suddenly tilts his head and you see him getting curious about something.

“You know, I’ve been wondering—” he starts as he leans closer over the table to gently ask you, “How did you get here?” 

You raise your eyebrows. “You…picked me up. At home,” you answer him, feigning innocence, even if you have quite an inkling of what he is trying to ask. 

“I’m not talking about being here,” he chuckles softly. “How did you end up studying film production? Have you always been so interested in making videos and movies?” 

You bite your lips. Not feeling sure how to answer him at first. “It’s quite a long story,” you finally tell him. “And a part of it might be a bit embarrassing to share.” 

Christian gives you a reassuring smile. “I got time. And I won’t laugh, I promise.”

Sipping your wine slowly, you try to decide where to begin. Once you gather enough courage, you finally admit to him softly, “Actually, I could probably say that I got interested to dive deeper into this because of you.” 

Christian’s eyes grow wide in shock, obviously not prepared enough to hear this. “What—?” 

Chuckling softly, you begin to tell him everything. “When I started college, I knew I was either going to study art or film, but I have to admit that I had no direction to know where to go. I’ve always loved movies and old films, and I loved the artistry behind creating music videos. I’ve also been drawn to documentary videos for a long time, but I never knew if I would be able to take up the challenge to dive into that world. And then I remember stumbling upon your videos during that time—” you stop briefly as you recall finding his raw videos before his crew grew into what is known today, but it was seeing him sharing those raw videos and making the process behind them seem like such a fun thing to do that got you so drawn into the entire process and finally getting to love it as well. 

“I tried to see if I would like it, so I started by learning and doing photography while saving up to buy my own camera set. Then you started sharing your travel videos and your post-production process online, and it got me interested in learning more about photography and film. And I was right about it being so much fun. I found the kind of challenge I was looking for in film major.” You stop for a brief moment and cannot help but smile as you recall those days when you finally had your mind set on it. “Let me just say that switching from art major to film production was the best decision I’ve ever made in life.” 

You turn to smile at him just then, realising that you finally get the chance to do the one thing that you have always wanted to do. That you finally get to do what you had always imagined you would be once you meet him in person. “Thank you for inspiring me, by the way,” you say to him with a grateful smile, before adding playfully, “And if it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t end up taking the post-production course to finally meet you in person.” 

Christian has been in such awe as he listens to your story that he seems to be lost for words. You feel worried that you might have been oversharing with him and that you are making him uncomfortable with your confession. A part of you is relieved that you get to say all of this instead of keeping them to yourself, but another part of you is afraid that he might feel burdened by the admiration you have for him, and you are worried that it might only push him away. 

But seeing him getting flustered makes you feel intrigued, curious to know how he feels about what you had just said to him. Clearing his throat, he rubs a palm over his lips to cover his bashful smile, though you can still see the crimson shade materialising on his skin. 

“You’re flattering me too much that I have no idea what to say,” he says with a nervous chuckle. Noticing your silence as you are waiting for his response, and perhaps noticing how shy and tense you seem to be feeling, Christian scoots his chair closer until he is within inches of you and reaches for your hand, once again igniting the sparks between you as he takes your smaller hands between his larger ones. 

“But I’m glad that finding my videos was what led you to me,” he gently says as he rubs his fingers against yours. “Or else, we probably wouldn’t be sitting together like this tonight, and I wouldn’t get to know your amazing personality and talent.” 

This time, you are the one who is flustering in the middle of what was supposed to be an innocent conversation. With his hand on yours, his deep eyes looking intently into yours, and his presence being so close, you are not only feeling sparks rising between you, but also heat simmering in the air that you start feeling a different kind of tension. The kind that gets your chest filled with delicate flutters and your body growing warm. 

The food arrives, granting a short moment of reprieve from the rolling tension as he finally leans away and the two of you soon dive into the beautiful meal while the conversation between you lightens.

“So,” he says while eyeing you expectantly as he slowly devours his food. “Tell me more about your, um—little adventure at the mall.”

You immediately laugh at this. “There is nothing more to share. If any, I think I may have already overshared with you by accidentally sending you those photos.” 

Christian softly chuckles, and he glances at you with a sly look dancing in his gaze. “I have no regrets of it happening,” he says, while you can only shake your head. 

“I’m sure you don’t,” you taunt him in return. 

Despite playing along, he probably suspects that you are still feeling uncomfortable about the mishap that happened that day. He reaches across the table to once again cover your hands with his. “Don’t worry, nobody else saw those photos, I promise. And you deleted them from both devices already so you won’t be able to find those photos anywhere on my phone, I’m sure,” he says, reassuring you. Though it is hard to feel immediately relieved when you see the playful grin growing on his face soon after. “Lucky for me, I have quite a good memory, so I won’t have to look for them again to remember everything. Like the coffee-coloured one that you said you were buy—ow! I’m kidding!”

Rubbing his upper arm which had just become the victim of your reflexed slapping, Christian laughs, pleased to see your reaction. You tease each other a while longer while you continue enjoying your meal, with his hand occasionally reaching out to you at every chance he gets, from brushing against yours to entwining his fingers between yours whenever he likes it.

When casting your gaze down on your joined hands, your heartbeat would start racing rapidly. Everything still feels like a dream that you want to pinch your skin so badly to see if you would wake up from this, yet you can still feel his warmth through your entwined fingers, letting you know that this moment is real. 

Then you would look up to see his face, to see his smile from up close and listen to his voice as he chats with you, and you realise that he is real. 

Instead of allowing your nerves to take over and have yourself be intimidated by his presence, you choose to savour this moment. Because the more you open yourself to him, and the longer you are together with this man, you finally realise that the infatuation that you feel growing between you isn’t simply a figment of your imagination. That it is truly there, and it is just as real as the two of you, present and blooming steadily even without any of you realising it. 

Once dinner is done, Christian takes you to another walk just to have more time with you. This time, he chooses to make a stop at the small dessert spot not too far from your place and start from there. 

You can feel his eyes on you while you are slowly licking at your ice cream, savouring the taste and this serene moment you have together as you walk on the side of the street, with nobody paying attention to any of you. 

“Have you been enjoying the night so far?” Christian suddenly asks you once you arrive at your place and he is now walking you to your door. 

“Do you hear me complaining?” you question him, drawing a smile to his face. “I had fun. I think it was the most fun I’ve had in a while, to be honest.” 

Chuckling softly, Christian nods his head. “Same with me. I always love being with you,” he admits slowly. “You always make me feel—” he sighs, as if having trouble finding the right words to say. “Comfortable with myself, if I have to describe it with words, and that’s not even half of it.” 

Soon enough, you are standing right in front of your door, with your hands entwined and he is not showing any sign of letting you go. Deep down, you also feel like you are not ready to part ways with him. Your chest feels heavy as you are not ready for the night to end this soon. 

So you turn to him, smiling as you nervously ask him, “Do you want to come in?” 

His smile grows, and there is something showing in his gaze that looks quite unfamiliar to you when he says, “I would love to.” 

He follows you as you walk into your warm home, still with your hands interlaced with one another. The moment the door is closed right behind him, Christian reaches out to you and pulls you to him, before he finally does the one thing he seems to have wanted to do all night long, as he soon leans down, capturing your lips in his to a deep, long kiss that takes your breath away. 

And the heat that has been simmering between you the entire night erupts into flame.

— © 2018-2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[seokstrivia]

Written In Pages

Summary: Sometimes, it’s for the best, 

Work!AU | KHH M.List | Word count: 2.4K

Boss Christian Yu x Writer Reader - angst, old feelings, exes, new love vs old love, drama(?)

After slamming your laptop shut for the umpteenth time, you groaned in irritation and took the last sip of your wine.

Your dream job was to write articles for a magazine, specifically inspiring stories about everyday life situations. You disliked writing about new cafes and hotspots to visit in Seoul, South Korea on a hot summer day. Your boss, Christian Yu, was someone you despised.

You let out a sigh as you leaned back on your couch, feeling exhausted from working for long hours and staring at a bright screen. Despite the fatigue, you were able to enjoy the peacefulness of your apartment which was quietly enveloped by the sound of light rain tapping against the tall windows that offered a view of the brightly lit city at night. The cityscape was a sight to behold, with buildings and cars stretching out as far as the eye could see, and you found it captivating.

It felt surreal.

You struggled with the idea of writing this article for a while, but now, as it is almost 3 am, you just want to finish it and move on, without having to worry about it anymore.

You worked tirelessly on your article all night, only the clicking of your keyboard keeping you company. As the sky began to lighten just before 5 am, you finally completed your 12th and hopefully final draft. After sending it to your boss, you collapsed into your bed, exhausted.

—>

“Wow, you look like shit.”

“Shut up, Dabin,” you scowled while you pointed a pen at him, almost as if threatening to hurt him if he said another word. “I was up late working on an article.”

“Again?”

As you nodded your head, a yawn escaped your lips, but Dabin didn't seem too impressed. He was aware of your writing skills, and he knew that Ian, his best friend, also recognized your talent. Despite this, Ian never allowed you to demonstrate your best writing abilities.

It annoyed him.

“Do you want me to speak to...“

“No,” you cut him off knowing exactly what he was going to ask. It was his favourite question. “It’s fine.”

Dabin suspiciously leaned over you, face a lot closer than you were comfortable with, and stared into your eyes as if they had a different answer to the one you’d given him.

It made you laugh.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” you genuinely smiled as you pushed his face away from yours.

The two of you discussed where to go for lunch and what you were in the mood for, which varied daily.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?”

The sudden voice behind you caused you to drop the smile on your face. You quickly locked eyes with Dabin before shifting to see your boss standing behind you.

Ian didn't give you time to respond to his question since he was already on his way back to his office. His strides were long and swift as you hurriedly followed behind.

A sigh escaped your lips as you thought about all the terrible things he might say about the draft you sent just a few hours ago.

Christian's office exuded a sense of sophistication and elegance with its predominantly black theme. The black furniture and décor complemented the black walls, creating a sleek and modern atmosphere. The aesthetic aligned perfectly with Christian's personal style, which is characterized by his sharp black suits, crisp white shirts, and multiple decorated tattoos. Overall, the office was a reflection of Christian's impeccable taste and attention to detail.

There’s no denying that he was a handsome man. 

“Do you enjoy working here?”

His voice was firm and almost intimidating, but it was nothing that you weren't accustomed to.

“Ye—“

“Answer me honestly,” he interrupted.

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips as he once again failed to listen.

It was annoying. 

You gazed out of the window, avoiding eye contact as the rain poured heavily over the city. It was ironic that you had just written an article on what to do on a hot summer day.

“Y/N—“

"Ian," you sighed, interrupting him as he had interrupted you earlier. "I don't hate working here, and I want you to know that. I genuinely enjoy the people and the work that I do. But it feels like you never give me a fair chance to show you how good I am, or how much I love being here."

As you stood up, your eyes met Christian's dark and mysterious ones. You never really understood him, as he always kept his distance. Even when you were dating, he never let you get too close.

His eyes reminded you of the heartbreak you felt when he told you he needed to focus on work and being a boss. There was no sadness or remorse in his expression. He was emotionless.

You subconsciously took a step back as he took one towards you, both caught off guard. You were afraid of falling for him again, especially after the pain he had caused you.

“I think maybe I should find another company to write for.”

“No.”

“Ian—“

“Y/N,” his voice was stern. Cold. “I said no.”

A deep chuckle reverberated in his office. You stepped back and crossed your arms, "It's not up to you. I can do what I want."

He knew you were right, but he didn't want you to leave. He had already given you up once.

Here's a clearer version of the text:

"Will you stay if I let you write your own story?" he asked, trying to offer a bribe.

"Why?" you questioned him, catching him off guard. He had hoped that you would just say yes and leave it at that.

There was an uncomfortable silence as he stood his ground, looking at you intently, but he didn't offer an explanation.

He was being stubborn.

After a while, you looked away from him and said, "I'll stay. See you around, Mr. Yu."

Christian watched as you left his office. He let you walk away.

Again.

—>

It was another late night in the office. Ian had finally given you the green light to write your own story - something exciting, new, and inspiring. However, you were struggling to come up with an idea. You didn't have any unique experiences to discuss, except for your own heartache and the pain you had gone through, along with the emotions you had felt.

It had been more than a year since Ian had broken up with you. Now, you were in a much better place emotionally, and seeing him around the office didn't hurt as much as it did when the wound was still fresh.

Your experience of getting over a breakup could serve as a source of inspiration for many individuals out there who may be going through the same thing. You could write about how you coped with the situation and be honest in your narrative. The idea is to make your readers relate to you and feel that they are not alone in the world and that going through a breakup is a common experience that everyone faces at least once in their lifetime.

As you were lost in thought, a voice interrupted you, asking "How are you getting on?"

You glanced up to see Dabin holding a box of fried chicken and a pack of four beers. You couldn't help but smile as your stomach growled in hunger. You were grateful for your best friend's arrival.

"Thank god for you," you exclaimed, feeling much better now. "I'm starving."

The two of you were quick to get settled into the couches in the staff room; away from computers and cubicles and depressing grey walls.

"This is delicious," you moaned as you took another bite.

Dabin laughed in return, "I'm glad I can help during times like this."

Dabin was a really good friend.

"So, how's your writing coming along?" He asked.

"Fine."

Nodding his head, he asked, "what's it about?"

You took a sip of your drink before turning to face Dabin. It was obvious what he was doing.

"You can let Ian know the article's content will be revealed in my final draft, okay?"

"How did you know I was asking for him?"

You lay back on the couch, sighing as your eyes stared at the plain white ceiling. Dabin followed suit, resting his shoulder neatly against yours.

It was quiet.

There was nobody else in the building except for the two of you. Normally, nobody stayed back late. However, you enjoyed staying late because of the peaceful and quiet atmosphere. The lights would turn off automatically on a timer, leaving you with a breath-taking view of Seoul from above.

Being on the top floor definitely had its perks.

"He didn't want to end things with you, but he had no choice. He misses you," Dabin finally spoke.

You avoided eye contact and stated, "Everyone has a choice."

You were in a three-year relationship with Ian before he broke up with you. As time went on, your love for him grew stronger and you were convinced that he was the one.

But no.

On a frigid winter night, he arrived at your doorstep and broke up with you. Declaring that his work was his priority and that he wanted to become a boss his father could be proud of.

So, he married his job instead.

It was a horrible experience that left you feeling utterly shattered. A heavy weight seemed to sit on your chest, and no matter what you did, you couldn't shake off the feeling. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and dealing with the aftermath was so difficult that you had to take a month off work. Seeing him again was too much to bear after feeling so broken.

"I thought he was the one, Dabin," you expressed. "But after he broke up with me, I realized that I didn't really know him. He never let me get close to him, and he never opened up to me. I was blindly in love."

Dabin looked at you with sad eyes; it was the first time you had openly talked about your breakup.

->

Saturdays were your favourite day of the week. You could sleep in as long as your stomach allowed before getting too hungry. You didn't have anything on your to-do list. It was a day just for you to relax, unwind, and not think about anything or anyone for that matter.

However, on this particular Saturday, instead of being awakened by hunger, you were awakened by the doorbell.

You were confused as to who was turning up at your apartment this early on a Saturday. You quickly got out of bed, grabbed your slippers and dressing gown and headed to the door.

You didn't think to look through the peephole before opening the door.

"Hey."

His voice was deep.

"What are you doing here?" You blurted out before thinking.

Ian.

He ran his hand through his hair.

Then sighed. Deeply.

"Can we talk?"

You stared at him, completely gobsmacked. What the hell was he doing here?

"Ian, please go home," you declared, your voice quavering. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

He didn't allow you to close the door as he barged in and let it slam shut behind him.

"Please," he begged.

You witnessed an unusual display of emotion in his gaze, something completely foreign to you in all the time you'd known him.

This was new, and you were in shock. It was so unlike him to do this.

"There's nothing to talk about," you declared, finally breaking the silence.

Ian sighed again, except this time, he sounded annoyed, "just give me five minutes of your time. Please."

Upon not wanting to argue, you silently nodded and sat on your couch, wondering what he wanted to discuss.

"Dabin spoke to me," he began. "He told me about how I made you feel."

"Okay? And?"

"Do you hate me?"

You scoffed. Was he serious? This is what he wanted to ask you?

"No, Ian. I don't hate you," you said honestly. "But I don't like you either."

He rolled his eyes, and you smiled smugly.

"Ian, please get to the point," you stated, your annoyance palpable. He was ruining your favourite day of the week.

"If I proposed, would you have married me?" Ian asked as he sat next to you on the couch.

The shock in your eyes didn't go unnoticed.

You let out a nervous chuckle and moved away from him. He was sitting too close to you, which made you feel uneasy. It had been a year since the two of you had been this close to each other, and you didn't like it.

"Ian, we're not a good match-"

"But would you have said yes?"

As you felt your heart beating harder against your chest, you began to feel nauseous and the sensation of wanting to throw up arose.

Why was he asking you this all of a sudden?

"Y/N, would you have said-"

"Shut up!" you snapped, taking a few steps back as you stood up. "You always have to have your own way, win arguments- even need to get the last word in. God forbid anyone says anything to you."

You were pacing the room, but he was listening for once.

He was actually listening.

"We were together for three years, I loved you unconditionally and fell more in love with you every day. It wasn't until you broke up with me that I realised I'd been dating a fucking rock."

"Y/N, I'm so sorry" he apologised as he stood up.

"Save it," you sighed.

His eyes searched yours, seeking answers, searching for any sign of love.

"I would have said yes. Of course, I would've" you told him honestly. His lips curved into a smile, but faltered when you added, "but not now."

He didn't say anything except, 'sorry' before leaving, making sure to slam the door shut behind him. Except this time, he was the one who was walking away and you were the one who let him.

That night you decided to quit your job, there was no way that it was healthy for either of you to go on like this.

He didn't question it this time or stop you, he didn't even look at you. Your words had hurt him just like he'd hurt you. This wasn't what you wanted, but realistically what else could you do?

It just wasn't written in pages for you two to be together.

And maybe, that was okay.

->

A/N Pls go easy on me with this, its my first time writing since being on my long ass hiatus, but I hope you still enjoyed <3 xoxo

[yawnzzznnn]

A collection of a few of my favorite pics of Ash Island

[azaprocky]

┃ pairings ➣ 〔 ❛ ash island x soloist!reader❜ 〕

┃ summary ➣ 〔 ❛ in which 4th gen's most successful soloist reveals her long time boyfriend who nobody ever expected.❜ 〕

┃ face claim ➣ 〔 ❛ somi (kpop soloist) ❜ 〕

┃ warnings ➣ 〔 ❛ none ❜ 〕

(your.username) posted a new video!

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SOOMPI

The Korea's 4th gen Princess is now off the market!

Just a few hours earlier, The Soloist had posted a TikTok revealing that she is now happily in a relationship, a TikTok with a caption "the only exception" showing (your.stagename) posing lovingly with a mystery man.

The tiktok had taken over the internet quite like a storm, k-netz even international fans has been searching who might the mysterious guy be, some people say it might be BTS' Jungkook or even come far as mention that it may be non celebrity.

But it turns out someone no one had ever expected, it was Ash Island a 23 year old south korean rapper first gaining limelight after being a contestant at Mnet's High School Season 2, Ash Island is currently signed under the label Ambition Musik.

A few days later, HYBE (Your Stage name) officially released a statement confirming the relationship between the two artists that's been running for over 5 years.

Just only a few hours later after the confirmation of the relationship, (Your Stagename) and Ash Island was seen at Hallansan National Park (©️Dispatch Korea)

a source says that they had a country home rented nearby and was in a date when the photograph was shot.

We wish nothing but great happiness for the couple, we fully support the new it Couple of Korea!

remember to respect their privacy and not send hate to the couple.

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your.username‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Privacy sign on the door, and on my page and on the whole world, Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours. 💕

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ash.island added to his story!

[dreamperfectarchives]

Sweet Silence

Summary: Dabin makes a bet with his friends without thinking about the consequences and gets into trouble.

Or boys will be boys, Ugh.

Bet!AU | M.List | Word Count: 1.6k

DPR Live x Reader: Angst, fluff, miscommunication, your friends with other khh artists. drama. arguments, men are dumb!

A/N sorry, it's on the shorter side but please enjoy!

How it started;

"If you accept this bet, y/n might not speak to you ever again."

Dabin rolled his eyes.

"He knew you better than anyone, and he believed that you wouldn't break up with him over a bet. Especially since he would explain everything in detail once the bet was over and he had won, proving those guys wrong.

“Okay, you have three days to complete this whole game, so that means no sleeping and no texting your girlfriend,” Ian smirked as he explained the rules to Dabin. “We’ll come into your flat to make sure you’re fed and hydrated, so you don’t die.”

Your boyfriend had a smile on his face, feeling thrilled at the idea of proving his friends wrong and winning the bet. However, he got too caught up in the excitement and forgot to inform you beforehand that he would be gone for three days while the dare was taking place.

“Bring it on, guys!”

He didn’t think that the outcome, in the end, would be so… terrifying. 

How it went; 

“You know what’s weird?” you said as you grabbed a drink out of your fridge. “I haven’t heard from Dabin since last night.” 

Hoody sat comfortably on the floor, intently flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine. Meanwhile, Sohee carefully painted her nails with a deep and rich shade of red.

“He’s probably just hanging out with the guys,” one of them answered. 

The other simply hummed in agreement. 

"Oh, that's a nice colour," you complimented Sohee before sitting next to her on the couch, being careful not to disturb her. "You're probably right, but, weirdly, he's taking so long to text me." 

Hoody closed her magazine over, before grabbing her drink off the coffee table, “you know what you need?” She suggested after taking a sip. “A girls night with us! We can invite Lee Hi and DeVita too.” 

You let out a sigh, the idea did sound like fun. It had been a while since you all hung out together and had a good time. Besides, maybe Dabin needed a break with his friends, just like you needed one with yours.

“Okay,” you agreed. “Let’s do it, but we’re staying in.”

Sohee laughed as she closed the nail polish bottle, “we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The evening was a relaxing and enjoyable one, filled with laughter, good company, and indulgences like wine, face masks, and friendly chatter about relationships. We rearranged the furniture to create a cosy space on the floor, where we could lounge on blankets and pillows and fully unwind.

The thought of your boyfriend not messaging you all day, even after you texted him to ask how he was, was unsettling. It was unlike him to go this long without responding, even when he was with his friends. It just didn't make sense to you.

Was he mad at you? Did you do something wrong? 

A sigh escaped your lips as you finished your drink. Hoody was the only one who stayed after everyone went home. It had been a lovely night, full of laughter and endless fun, but now you were getting annoyed.

You sent another text.

An hour later, still no response.

It was almost 3 am and Hoody was sitting on the couch, scrolling through channels, hoping to find something interesting to watch on TV. As time passed, you seemed to become more and more irritated, letting out a sigh which Hoody took as a sign to turn off the TV and encourage you to go to bed.

While watching Hoody remove her makeup, you asked, "Do you think he's breaking up with me?" as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“That boy is completely in love with you,” she scolded, looking at you through the mirror. “Don’t be stupid.”

You laughed at the scowl on her face, “Sorry, it’s just unlike him, you know?”

She nodded. “If he doesn’t text or call you tomorrow, you can be as angry as you want, and I’ll be just as angry with you. Deal?”

“Deal!”

->

After Dabin failed to message or call the next day, you and Hoody sulked and complained about inconsiderate men. She was just as angry as you, she’d promised she would be the night before, you were so thankful for having a friend like her. 

“How can you go two days without messaging the love of your life?” She shouted, throwing popcorn at the TV as the protagonists kissed in the rain. “I’m so pissed off right now.”

You laughed at her sudden outburst, “It’s okay, I've decided to give him the silent treatment until he apologises.”

Hoody seemed to like your idea, and let you know she was only a call away if you needed her before she left as she had work the next day. 

Now, it was just you and your thoughts. 

The day had passed by quickly, as it always did when you were hanging out with your friends. However, now you’d found yourself unsure of what to do. You couldn't even talk to Dabin, as he wasn't talking to you in the first place. Besides, you didn't want to speak to him until he apologised. 

A sigh parted your lips as you stared at the multiple messages you’d sent the night before, how annoying, you thought. 

You started typing out a message, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard as you let your thoughts pour out, you wanted him to know how he made you feel and what you were going to do about it before muting his messages and tossing your phone to the side. 

On the other hand:

Dabin was clueless about the impact of his actions on your feelings. He was engrossed in his video games and consuming the food that his buddies had brought for him. He convinced himself that he only had to endure one more day, and then he would see you and clarify how he had won the bet.

However, the happiness he had been feeling vanished as quickly as it had come when he saw your recent message. The message read, 'I'm not sure why you're not talking to me, but I know I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this. If this is your way of breaking up with me, then so be it. But at least say something instead of going cold.'

As he tried to call you, the call went straight through to voicemail, and his heart fell through his stomach. You thought he was breaking up with you, and he was now panicking. He couldn't bear the thought of never speaking to you again, and he realised that Ian was right.

This bet was not a good idea. 

He moved quickly, leaving a mess behind as he shoved his shoes on and grabbed his keys to make his way over to your place. The bet wasn't worth winning if it meant losing you. This whole situation was stupid to begin with. 

He arrived at your apartment just before midnight, panting heavily as he knocked on the door, praying for you to answer.

When you opened the door, you appeared annoyed. Your expression grew even more irritated when you saw him standing there. He watched as you crossed your arms and visibly became smaller under your glare.

“What do you want?” You argued. 

He quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him, saying, "I'm here to apologise. It's not what you think."

You stepped back as he tried to reach out to you. "What is it then?" you asked.

“It was a stupid bet–”

"Excuse me, what?!" you interrupted, feeling angrier. 

"It was Ian's idea. He provoked me by saying that I couldn't go three days without texting you or sleeping, and I wanted to prove him wrong," he rambled. "I know it was stupid, and I'm so sorry for putting you through this."

"I can't believe this! Did you really put me through all of this emotional turmoil just for a bet?" You unfolded your arms and settled your hands on your hips, staring at your partner in disbelief. You let out a deep sigh and collapsed onto the couch, feeling defeated. "I honestly thought you were going to break up with me."

Dabin knelt in front of you, taking your hands into his. He kissed the back of each hand and gazed deeply into your eyes. "I am so sorry for what I did," he spoke in a soft tone. "But I promise you, I'm not breaking up with you. Ever! I want to marry you one day. I'm so in love with you."

He could tell you were still upset with him, but the faint smile appearing on your lips told him that the two of you were going to be okay.

“You’ve got a lot of making up to do,” you told him to which he nodded in agreement. “Also, Ian is in a lot, and I mean, a lot of trouble.” 

Dabin laughed at the mischievous grin on your face before jumping onto the couch next to you and pulling you into his arms, “god, I missed you.”

How it ended:

“So, you failed,” Ian smirked.

Dabin shrugged as you walked into the room where he and Ian were sitting, then smiled at you.

“Ian, you are in a lot of trouble,” you said, watching the smirk fall off his lips. “I’m not sure why you’re sitting there so smugly.”

Ian appeared visibly frightened as he contemplated the severity of his situation.

Let's just say your friends had a lot to say.

[milkybonya]

ketchup_sdh

!: nothing but fluff because my heart is always soft for big naughty boi

#: rapper boyfriend!big naughty x (gn)reader, a lil studio date vibe <3

[💌: idk why but suddenly im just like my biggest fear is Donghyun somehow finding my fics about him and being like ew blockedt ,, he is a child of the internet lowkey im scared LOL I SHOULD SLEEP]

you knock on the door to Donghyun's studio. not hearing a response, you open the door just slightly to find your boyfriend sitting at his desk, headphones on and probably producing music.

carefully, you walk towards him and once you're close enough, you draw a heart on his back. immediately, he knows it's you. it's like your secret little signal for each other: if someone draws a heart on your back with two fingers, you know it's Donghyun, and he also knows it's you if it ever happens to him.

he removes his headphones and turns around with a smile he just can't hide despite trying to. he doesn't wanna seem like he's absolutely head-over-heels in love with you but he just is.

"y/n?! when did you get here?" he asks, hand over his mouth as he hides his smile.

"just now," you reply, kissing the back of his hand.

he jerks it away from his mouth and whines, leaving you laughing.

"is producing going well, big baby?" you ask, patting and stroking his head. he looks adorable under your touch and you melt.

"mhm."

"i'm not interrupting, am i?" you ask, suddenly worried.

he shakes his head and says, "no, i was just about to take a break anyway!"

he pulls you onto his lap, letting your legs rest on the seat inbetween his own legs. you relax against his chest and he takes hold of your hands, slowly swivelling from side to side in his chair as he basks in your warmth and scent.

"did you eat?" you ask Donghyun.

"was gonna," he replies quietly, hoping he wouldn't worry you.

"shall we order some delivery?" you ask.

he giggles in agreement, but also because of the way he can hear your voice vibrating through your body and onto his own chest, which you still lay against.

you pull out your phone and scroll through the different restaurants, Donghyun watching behind you and humming in approval as you show him the options. eventually, you both decide on something and as you wait for the food to arrive, Donghyun plays some of his unreleased songs for you.

he has you sit in his seat as he stands up and gives you a half-live performance, singing and dancing along to his self-produced beats. seeing you crack up as he twerks makes him laugh, too, and you both get butterflies seeing each other in such a happy state.

once the food arrives, you both sit on the floor to share the meal, Donghyun playing whatever movie or youtube video you both decide to watch in the moment. he shares his food with you and you do the same, smearing ketchup on his nose and calling him rudolph.

"ahhh y/n you can't do this to me! right when i'm about to eat? all i have is soup in front of me, i can't even defend myself... unless i pour it on you, but it's scorching hot!" Donghyun complains.

you shrug your shoulders at him, sticking out your tongue until he quickly bring his face close to yours. his wet, ketchup-y nose gently touches yours, spreading the sauce onto your own face, too.

"now there's two rudolphs," your boyfriend points out.

you lean forward this time, cleaning his nose with a single kiss. Donghyun scrunches up his face and balls up his fists while whining the whole time, but he's blushing when you pull away, hiding his face.

"a-are you obsessed with kissing me today or something?" he stutters.

you stick your tongue out at him again, trying to return to what's playing on the computer screen when Donghyun kisses the ketchup away from your nose, too. you immediately feel warmth bubbling up from within you, your nose tingling from the contact.

you both stare at each other for a few moments before laughing it off, properly wiping the ketchup away and tucking into your meal.

at some point, you both end up laying on the floor, using Donghyun's arms as pillows: one went beneath your head and the other went beneath his own. side by side in your food coma, you listen to Donghyun as he hums a song.

"we should probably walk the food off instead of laying here.. it'll make us feel worse," you point out.

"but i prefer laying here with you," Donghyun whines, turning towards you and snuggling into your side.

your fingers automatically come up to run through his soft locks, and he almost sounds like he's purring as you caress him.

"okay, Donghyun-ah... let's stay here," you say, quietly.

his breathing evens out and you think that your pretty boy has fallen asleep while laying on the ground by your side. you turn to gently kiss his chin, since that's the only spot you can reach, before starting to fall asleep, yourself.

you don't notice the way Donghyun smiles brightly to himself, having been awake and still reeling from the way you tenderly petted and kissed him.

[justlissy]

Holly the cupid

genre: fluff

artist: pH-1

a/n: hello there! I don’t know if this will be read but if you do read thank you! I would like to keep writing for my khh fellas so please let me know if I should keep writing or not 🦀

Also if you have any requests please send them through!

'Holy come here', whispered Harry in vain as the cute puppy made its way to you. Holly hopped on your lap during your photoshop making you grin.

'Yes perfect!' complimented the photographer as she snapped multiple pictures, taking advantage of the fact that Holly was posing ever snap she heard.

Harry froze not knowing what to do, he wanted to go to you and bring Holly back but he could only focus on you. From your round brown eyes to your curly hair, to the dimples that appeared every time you would smile. How could someone be so… beautiful? Before he even realised he was smiling at the sight of his cute puppy playing with a cute girl.

𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸?

‘Harry!’ Woodie shouted, getting Harry’s attention and he saw the others waving at him waiting to start the shoot.

‘𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵, 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺.’ Harry thought. He jogged towards the other members, after looking back at you one more time.

‘Okay and… we’re done!’ everyone started clapping while you stood up and thanked everyone for their hard work. Then you crouched down to Holly’s eye level grinning at her cute little outfit.

‘Now who do you belong to pretty baby?’ she tilted her head to the side making you melt at her cuteness. You grabbed her into your arms, looking around to see if there’s anyone looking for her. The other artists were busy doing their own shoots so you decided to look for the owner yourself. You asked around to see if anyone knew whose puppy it was but no one seemed to have a clue.

‘I think she’s from someone of H1ghr Music’ a member of staff told you and you thanked them, happy to see that your long walk was coming to an end. At the end of the hallway, you saw a sign saying ‘H1ghr Music’ and looked down to smile at Holly to find her fast asleep. You knocked on the door and peeped your head first to find everyone staring at you.

‘Hi, sorry to bother you guys but I think I have something that belongs to one of you.’ You said nervously, fully entering the room and their looks then fell onto Holly. A guy with a mustache tapped on the shoulder of another guy with a orange beanie, making him turn around. He was holding a bag of gummy bears, one already entering his mouth when his eyes locked with yours slightly widening as if he was surprised to see you. His eyes quickly fell onto his puppy, who looked way too comfortable on your arms. Harry stood up quickly making his way to you with a little awkward smile. You also started walking his way, not really knowing how to act.

‘Hum hey thank you for bringing Holly back, she ran away out of nowhere and found you and even disrupted your photoshoot. I didn’t want to get in the way of it, so I just left in the hopes that she would come back but it seems like she had other plans.’ Harry quickly said making you smile at how flustered he looked.

‘It’s fine, Holly made the pictures even better so I’m the one who should be thanking you…’

‘Ph-1 or you can call him Harry since he finds you cute’ you were interrupted by the moustache guy as he carefully took Holly away from your arms and winked at you.

‘Minsik I swear if you don’t shut your mouth’ Harry hissed, making you giggle at their interaction.

‘Then thank you Harry, I hope I didn’t worry you much’ you say apologetic.

‘Why would you make Harry worry y/n-noona?’ says someone with super long hair wrapping his arm around you.

You look to see who’s talking to you so casually to realise that it's your favourite maknae.

‘Haonnnnieee’ you say in a baby voice, turning to pinch his cheeks that no longer had the baby fat that you remember.

𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵- 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘠/𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘢? 𝘏𝘢𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘦? 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺.

⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏ ⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏ ⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶

Hey cupid why you hiding

(Shoot on and shoot on)

날려줘 빨리

My cupid where you at right now

(Shoot on and shoot on)

[eirianna]

I need some goopy ff like c’mon 😭 look at him

Important

[lovesick-gxrls]

CONFESSIONS

november 12th 2022 10:48pm

pairing: millie kim x code kunst, millie kim x aomg

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing, smoking

description: millie and sungwoo finally acknowledged how they feel

word count: 1.4k

a/n: thank you all for the support, i don’t really speak on this account much but i really appreciate it 🫶🏻

“HONESTLY ITS AS IF I HAVE ANOTHER DAD sometimes” millie laughed loudly nodding her head sideways towards kiseok who just wrapped his arm around her shoulders squeezing her tightly. the others stood around the high table laughed with them, however, sungwoo could only smile. he watched millie and kiseok interact, the constant bumping shoulders or the small inside jokes they had. he couldn’t help but feel a pit of jealousy in his stomach.

sungwoo knew that the pair were not remotely romantically interested in each other which annoyed him even more that he was so jealous. millie and kiseok were joint at the hip at these sort of events ever since he signed the girl to aomg. she was alone in korea when she joined the hiphop agency with her family still living in canada, so kiseok took it upon himself to take of the young artist and make sure she was living well.

the venue they were currently at was slowly becoming more busy as the party began, the atmosphere becoming busy and hectic whereas before it was calm. sunghwa stood across from millie and next to sungwoo, who had noticed his friend looking like a lovesick puppy when he watched millie talk. she was a quiet person usually but when she was around company that she felt comfortable with, she could talk for days, which was another thing that code kunst attracted millie to him.

sunghwa and wonjae knew all about the little workplace romance that was blooming between the producer and rapper. millie had drunkenly confessed to sunghwa of her attraction to cokun and wonjae had to sit and listen to his friend complain about how they will always be stuck as friends. as much as the pair wanted to interfere and make the oblivious friends realise that they share the same feelings they were both apprehensive of meddling.

millie took a small sip of her drink, her eyes meeting sungwoo’s. her heart felt as if it skipped a beat which she tried to ignore. he quickly averted his eyes and her heart dropped but she did well to hide the disappointment. “i’m gonna get another drink,” she muttered towards kiseok, he smiled rubbing her back slightly before she walked away. sungwoo’s gaze was now back on her, this time he was the disappointed one.

sungwoo stood watching her sadly causing wonjae to scoff and nudge him with his elbow. “you gotta talk to her hyung, before she gets with someone else,” he muttered. sungwoo sighed, at war with himself on what to do.

after squeezing her way through the crowd she made it to the busy bar. she waited, tapping her fingers against the table to the beat of the music. however her attention was soon on a familiar face standing a few feet away from her. junhoe was standing, scrolling through his phone, her stomach twisted the sight of her her ex-boyfriend. he was the last person she wanted to see tonight, especially since sungwoo was here.

unfortunately for millie, junhoe noticed her and smiled before walking over to meet her at the bar. “hey millie, didn’t know you’d be here,” he said awkwardly. millie laughed a little, “yeah i’m here with some of the guys,” she replied nodding towards where she was previously standing. junhoe looked over seeing some of the aomg guys at the table and how code kunst was watching the pair carefully. “ah i see,” he muttered. there was an awkward pause, the old couple hadn’t seen each other since the breakup which is what mille wanted but now here he was.

the pair spoke for a few more minutes with junhoe even offering to pay for her drink once she had finally ordered but millie declined. the conversation was strained and millie found herself laughing awkwardly most of the time trying to ignore the suffocating feeling. “i’m gonna get some air for a few minutes,” she told him not letting him reply as she left to quickly to hear it, but his attention quickly moved to someone else thankfully.

she made her way through the drunk crowd towards the front door - grabbing her jacket on the way out, in need of some fresh air and a cigarette. she wasn’t a big smoker but after she had a few drinks or felt overwhelmed with stress she would usually have a few. it was bad habit that she had been trying to kick since she was a teen, but to no avail yet.

outside the bar was quiet thankfully, a little group stood to one side of the door all smoking and laughing together. millie stood on the other side leaning against the brick wall while she began to rummage through her bag for her own pack. unfortunately she only found her lighter, “fuck,” she muttered, before checking her jacket pockets, she looked towards the door debating whether just to go back inside. as she continued to search of her pack, a hand appeared in front her offering a cigarette.

millie stopped a few seconds after registering what it was, her gaze lifted from the ground to meet sungwoo’s. “thanks,” she mumbled taking the stick out of his hand and placing it in between her lips. cokunst leaned on the wall next to the shorter girl, a silence settling between them. she quickly lit her cigarette and took a long draw, before exhaling the thick smoke. sungwoo stole a quick glance of millie who was staring at the nights sky admiring the stars she could see.

“i thought you were quitting,” he finally spoke, millie hummed at his words taking another puff. “i remember using the word trying,” she murmured, tapping off the ash. the silence came back.

“done ignoring me now i take it?” millie asked trying to sound as nonchalant as possible but there was still a hard edge to her voice. the words came out before she had realised what she had actually said, the rapper was usually quite good at hiding her jealousy or annoyance towards code kunst but the tension between them was becoming increasingly more apparent. millie was sick of feeling like a lovesick teenager around sungwoo, constantly overthinking every little detail of their relationship.

sungwoo cleared his throat awkwardly, “i.. i wasn’t ignoring you,” he stuttered out. millie rolled her eyes in annoyance, finally turning to look directly at him. “you have sungwoo, every time i looked at you you’d look away or if i came up to you in there you’d find an excuse to leave, what have i done?” millie rambled angrily suddenly she was thankful that the group who was next to them had gone back inside a few minutes earlier leaving the pair alone. “i’ve been trying all night to talk to you, but you’ve been with that ass for the past half hour,” sungwoo argued back and millie scoffed loudly.

of course that was why sungwoo had all of a sudden decided to leave her alone. it angered the girl more that sungwoo thought she wanted to be talking to junhoe for the full night. that he hadn’t made the effort with her. sungwoo had watched the two exes together at the bar, laughing and to him looked like millie talking excitedly while junhoe grasped her hand. they looked very happy to see each other and sungwoo was jealous to put it plainly. “so what? we we’re catching up. it’s what people do,” she exclaimed. sungwoo’s gaze hardened as the argument became more heated between the two.

“sorry for not wanting to interrupt you with someone you clearly still like,” he huffed pushing himself off the wall. millie scoffed in disbelief watching the taller guy with her eyebrows furrowed, muttering “you’ve got to be kidding me,” to herself. she stomped out the end on her cigarette with her boots, taking a moment to reply. without thinking her words left her mouth quickly. “i don’t fucking like him like that anymore we ended it… it’s you i fucking like,” suddenly it went very quiet between the pair. the only noise that could be heard was the loud music coming from the bar.

the tension could be cut by a knife as the pair stared into each others eyes, millie breathing heavily after her sudden confession. “please just say something,” she said just above a whisper, feeling like she could cry at any moment. instead of replying, sungwoo cupped her face and brought her in for a deep kiss. startled by the kiss, it took millie a second to register what was happening but soon relaxed. her eyes fluttered shut, her arms hanging around sungwoo’s neck.

sungwoo grasped her waist gently while they moved in sync. millie pulled away, smiling to herself as she tried to hide her face in his chest. “i like you too by the way,” he murmured softly.

millie m.list | masterlist

[a-fence]

An Exploration

Exploring Mexico City and you (M)

“Are you sure we can’t stay another day to explore?” Ian asked.

“I can’t possibly explore Mexico City in half a day!! There’s so many sights to see!” you protested.

“And food to eat,” Ian added.

“And a bajillion museums to explore!”

Scott was flustered with your arguments. He was like a father debating with his children. “Even I would like to stay but we can’t derail the schedule. Our fans have been waiting long enough,” he said exasperatedly.

“We tried,” Ian sighed. He put his arm around your shoulders and kissed the crown of your head softly to console you.

You held the hand that was dangling by your shoulders and leaned on to his chest. “We’ll have to narrow it down to one to two places.”

The two of you always set aside time to explore in each stop of the tour. You tagged along the tour for work and to travel with Ian, which basically killed two birds with one stone. But time was always of the essence and you were always limited to visiting spots that were either near your hotel or the venue.

Ian thought about it as the two of you watched Dabin go through sound check. “We can still go to Coyoacán,” he suggested.

Coyoacán was home to The Frida Kahlo Museum and the National Watercolor Museum which were some of the museums you wanted to visit, and Cineteca Nacional which was on Ian’s list. It was also quite near the venue.

“The museums will be closed by then,” you groaned.

“A lot of places will be closed by the time the show ends,” Ian countered.

“I guess we can still walk around the neighborhood then maybe catch a movie at Cineteca Nacional. And then plan on when to come back so I get to visit all the museums I want!” you exclaimed, quickly recovering from the thought of not being able to visit the places you wanted.

“We always say that in every stop of this tour,” Ian said which made both of you break into laughter.

You broke away from Ian and proceeded to work. John took the videos and you took the photographs and the two of you were also in charge of uploading these contents into the social media pages of DPR.

The meet and greet photos were also taken by you and you loved how Ian doesn’t just smile at the camera, he’s smiling at you. It made you feel giddy inside but you had to keep it professional at all times.

During the actual show, you shuffled between the front of the stage and on the actual stage to snap photos, which was a workout in itself.

After the show, the boys took a quick five just to quickly hydrate themselves before going out to do the encore.  The boys usually took showers after the show and everyone ate dinner after while waiting for the crowd to dissipate before leaving the venue.

You and Ian excused yourselves and made your way to Coyoacán via train to get to feel more of the city. As you alight the station, you pulled up the maps app for directions. The two of you headed first to the Frida Kahlo museum so you can “cross it off” your list of places to visit as it was already closed. Then you walked further down the street to take pictures of the colorful houses before walking back towards Cineteca Nacional.

You settled on the last showing of one of the indie films that was being shown so you can also explore the outdoor forum of the Cineteca. You browsed the stores until it was time for the movie to start.

The movie had no English subtitles and you had to rely on the tone of voice and the acting to understand what was happening and you made a mental note to look up the movie later on to see if you understood it correctly.

“That was an experience,” Ian declared as the two of you exited the cinema.

“I’m still confused as to what actually happened in the movie,” you replied as you search for the plot online on your phone.

Ian grabbed your hand as you walked. “Where to next?” he asked.

You tuck your phone away. “Back to the hotel I guess? Unless you want to go for a quick drink? But we have an early flight tomorrow,” you reasoned.

“You’re right. Anyway there are other things I can explore,” Ian said while eyeing you suggestively.

“What exactly?” you asked despite already knowing what he meant.

He turned you to face him, and he cupped your face with his hands and placed soft kisses on your lips. “You,” he said in between kisses causing you to giggle.

“Stooop! We’re in public!” You whined as you playfully slapped his arms away.

Ian dropped his hands and grabbed yours as he headed to the street and hailed the first cab he saw. He behaved himself in the cab and so did you. You were in a different country and you were afraid to potentially disrespect the cab driver. However, he still found a way to tease by squeezing your thigh once near your knee and again closer to your crotch. He smirked as he saw you bite back your gasp, knowing well what his touch does to you.

He held your hand as you exited the cab and made your way to the lobby. The elevator was empty when it opened and you quickly pressed on the close button and your floor to make sure you got the elevator all to yourselves. Ian was latched on to your lips as soon as the doors closed, pulling your head up as he tugged on your lower lip, causing you to whimper at the roughness of his actions. He placed a hand on the back of your head to prevent you from hitting it as he pushed you against an elevator wall, grinding his hips against yours as soon as your back hit the wall. He moved to kiss your jaw then your neck, each kiss becoming sloppier than the previous. You gripped his sides as he kissed you then you circled your arms around his waist, closing the gap as much as possible as he grinded against you.

The elevator dinged, causing both of you to stop and check at which floor it stopped. It stopped just a floor below yours and the two of you had to compose yourselves as a group of people heading to the rooftop filed in. You instinctively stood in front of Ian to cover his budding erection.

You reached your floor and you pulled Ian along as you exited the elevator. You ran to your room once you were away from the elevators, Ian just behind you. You stood against the door as Ian fumbled his pockets for the keycard. He opened the door and he pushed you inside and pinned you against the nearest wall then kicked the door closed.

“Where were we?” Ian asked.

“Here,” you mumble against his lips. You cupped his face as you kissed him, Ian deepening the kiss immediately. You dragged one hand down his chest and abdomen, down to his crotch and you stroked him over his jeans causing a low moan to escape his lips. You continued stroking him as you held him by the shoulder with your other hand and turned him, reversing your positions. He let you unbuckle his jeans and drag it down to his ankles. You knelt in front of him and pulled down his boxers exposing the his entire length.

You ran your hand down and up along his length and your thumb traced lazy circles around his tip. He tipped your chin up and you were looking up at him as you placed kisses along his shaft before you enveloped him with your mouth, his breath hitching at your actions. You held his shaft with one hand and you took him by the mouth slowly at first then you began to increase your pace.

“Just like that, Y/N. That feels so good,” Ian groaned in satisfaction.

You continued bobbing your head while you hand pumped the base of his shaft, taking him deeper each time, obscenities leaving Ian’s mouth. Your hand rested on his pelvis as your index finger and thumb supported the base of his shaft and you took his entire length in, a low growl emanating from Ian. You released him and you wiped away the drool from the corners of your mouth. Ian bent down to kiss you and helped you stand up.

He took a condom from his jeans pocket and put in on then discarded all of his clothing. He carried you bridal style and laid you on the bed. You unzipped your jeans and pulled them down, letting Ian pull it off the rest of the way as you removed your shirt.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” Ian said as he admired your body. He climbed into the bed and on top of you, one hand cupped your face as he kissed you deeply while his other hand unhooked your bra. You pulled it off and Ian took one nipple in his mouth, circling it with his tongue before sucking on your perked nub, his hand palming and pinching the other.

He trailed kisses down your stomach and when he reached the waistband of your panties, he pushed your legs back and knelt in front of you. He pulled the crotch of your underwear aside, exposing your glistening core. He looked at you and maintained eye contact as he licked your entrance before sucking on your clit.

You reached for his head and pushed it lightly, encouraging him to continue what he was doing. You threw your head back against the mattress in ecstasy. “Oh god – Ian! The things you do with your tongue!” you exclaimed.

Ian grinned at your satisfaction and proceeded to slide a finger in between your labia, lubricating it before slipping it into your entrance. He pumped slowly at first then returned to lapping at your clit. His pumping became quicker causing your hips to buck against his mouth.

Sensing you were close, he released you and took off your panties. He climbed back into the bed and positioned himself along your entrance. He placed his arms on your waist and he bent his head down to give you a kiss, which you returned.

You guided him to your entrance and he started thrusting slowly, allowing you to adjust to his length.

“You good?” he asked as he brushed the stray hairs away from your face.

You nodded and Ian placed his hand back on your waist and started to quicken his thrusts. You held his wrists as you try to move your hips in time with his thrusts, pleasure building in your lower abdomen.

“Ian, I-, I’m close,” you whimpered.

He rested his forehead on yours as he continued his unrelenting pace to push you over the edge. You placed your hands on the back of his neck, cupping it as you leaned in for a kiss. You felt your walls tighten around him and you shuddered as you felt the oncoming waves of your orgasm, crying out Ian’s name in pleasure.

“Fuck Y-Y/N,” he screamed when he felt you tightening around his length, reaching his orgasm right after you and spurting his seed into the latex. He slowed down his thrusts before pulling out from you.

Ian cleaned himself up and returned to bed. He held you and nuzzled your forehead. You looked up at him and smiled, “How was your exploration?”

“You are my best adventure,” he declared causing a blush to creep on your face.

You gave him a peck on the lips and you made yourself comfortable in his embrace and you felt yourself slowly drift off to sleep.

[eureka-its-zico]

Winterfall

Synopsis: When you thought of your life, Glenview Psychiatric Hospital was the last place you thought you’d end up. What could be weirder than calling a place like this home? Finding people who remind you that, sometimes, the messiest parts of who we are can be the best parts of us too.

Pairings: Christian Yu x Reader x Jay B x Reader (It’s a love triangle, y’all) 

Series: ongoing 

Word Count: 5186

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mental health issues, mental disorders, slight violence, sexual themes

A/N: This is a hard one to post. I’ve had this in my WIPs for over seven years. I’ve rewritten it multiple times. Consider if this was a series, I was willing to share. As someone who suffers from BPD II and PTSD, it felt strange to dive into mental health. In a way, I felt like I needed a safe place to get it out. To share. This fic isn’t meant to be sad. It’s meant to be about growth. The journey of mental health can be a messy one, but it doesn’t have to hinder our own growth. Our sadness does not define us. If I ever miss anything in the warnings for chapters, please let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP! This fic is loosely based off of one of my favorite films, Girl, Interrupted. And remember, if you you ever need to talk: Im here.

Shout out to my bestie @deadneverlander for always being the better half in our clownery. I wouldn't be able to do half of this without you.

There was something about the bleakness of winter that seemed to make countless people’s bones ache for the warmth of summer. Their loneliness is somehow made more apparent by rain clouds and negative degrees, turning thoughts into reminiscent scenes of a doomsday film. 

You’d always claimed that fall was your favorite season because the vast spectrum of your sadness didn't match the heat of summer. Sure, you loved the possibilities of hot cocoa, warm fires, ridiculous horror, Christmas films, and the first sight of snow. Somewhere along the way, however, came the anxiety of holiday dinners. Where the comfort you’d found in overcast skies turned sinister with repeated looks that reminded you that you were the black sheep; the odd man out with another year of nothing to show.

Fall no longer meant binges on shows and breaks from the endless routine that was work and school. It meant laying in the snow until your body heat forced it to melt underneath you, seeping into the fabric of your clothes to leave your nerves numb and transparent like ice. Your mind silently hoped it would be enough to extinguish the agony that blossomed in your chest. 

Jackets were no longer marked for warmth, but strictly to hide your struggle to feel anything past the chasm that’d grown in the past couple of months: to bleed out the parts of you that didn't belong. It wasn't a surprise it's what landed you a one-way ticket to the cozy room inside a psychiatric hospital. Maybe that's just what happens when you're found unresponsive with a belly housing a fifth of rum. The marks on your skin lay like a map to follow on how you got there; only being found like a frantic afterthought. 

Glenview Psychiatric Hospital, or GSH that was strategically labeled in bright crimson above the pocket of your prison-inspired sweatshirt, had been home for three months now. It was meant to be a place of healing, among the basic mood stabilizing and therapy sessions everyone held in a day. You felt further away from that concept with every group activity the doctors forced you to take part in. Your social anxiety becoming apparent each time it lands on you to speak, either to close the circle, or to be a part of the ridiculous game activities. The last time you played volleyball your face saw more action with the pleather ball than your arms ever did. 

It was currently 12:47 p.m. The clock giving you a false sense of hope that the time wouldn’t just creep by to leave you stranded the last thirteen minutes until you’d earned your freedom. There was, however, the off chance if Dr. Thompson wasn't hearing what he wanted; the hour-long group activity would be extended. 

You scanned the other six faces that made up your group: the huddled mess of piled sweaters and huddled blanket of Soomi a fleeting moment of comfort. It only took your eyes adjusting on her figure to know she didn’t have one. Her tiny body composed of thick layers of clothes to portray a false sense of shape. Her anorexia becoming so severe her family had no other option but to put her here, or watch her die. Jason’s endless finger taps on every surface he could touch the only giveaway to his OCD until he removed himself from his chair. Sejun with his alcoholism and Yuna with her acidic imagination that the wind whispered her deepest secrets out into the world. 

All this ending with your gaze narrowed on the statuesque figure of Jaebum who comically sat opposite of your current position. The two suicidal inmates that shared in the anxiousness of sadness but little else, and the usual reason why your group never seemed to end on time. 

You couldn't say it was a shame to be stuck sitting dead center of someone so attractive; as shallow of an observation as it was there was no denying how ungodly true that statement was. He held a silent attractiveness that resonated in the solitude he kept around himself, and Jaebum was indeed a solitary creature.

He preferred books over people. Usually moving away from anyone who got close to his latest reading perch without ever glancing up from his current book. Jaebum’s favorite place he’d reserved to get lost inside his fiction the seal of the window that looked out the expanse of the institute’s backyard. The entire estate currently covered in the dead burgundy and gold of a forest of oak tree leaves. 

It wasn't like you were laying avid amounts of your attention on him or anything. You didn't pay attention to how broad his shoulders looked in his old man sweaters that you could've bet money smells like mothballs. How his features seemed sharpened to match the fierceness that lived inside his eyes. The only thing that exposed his softness was the speck of a mole that dusted itself on his left eyelid. 

Jaebum just held a presence that demanded to be noticed. Whether he himself liked it or not. 

“Jaebum: do you have anything you’d like to add to the session?”

Dr. Thompson’s question made the both of you jolt in your seats. Youwere too busy staring down at your nails while you plucked away at the cuticles. Jaebum's head turned, unbeknownst to you, from looking at you to the good doctor. It was enough to make your cheeks flush hot. 

His crossed arms gave a soft shrug, and you hated how your eyes stayed captivated by the movement. You were willing to blame it on the charcoal-worn cable knit sweater he favored. It really did smell like moth balls and age making you willing to bet it wasn't his to begin with. 

“We talked about this guys. Shrugging is not an adequate substitute for an answer.”

His tone showing his frustration more than anger at his need to repeatedly inform the group. Dr. Thompson looked at each of you individually until he stopped on Jaebum, who didn’t seem the least bit moved. 

“I have nothing to say.”

A sigh escaped from Dr. Thompson’s lips as his head shook softly. His eyes averted down to the tin clipboard momentarily before they resumed their previous position. 

“And what is it exactly you would like me to add, huh?” You felt your body tense against the chair. Your hands grasping at its edges like it would be the only thing to keep you stable against the oncoming rage that was Jaebum’s agitation. “We do these pointless sessions over and over: again and again. For what? Do you think it “saves” anyone?”

Your eyes diverted from the safety of your knees; counting every frayed piece of cloth on your jeans that hung loose from torn holes. No part of you needed to acknowledge that he was standing. The room did that well enough with the tension his power caused. The room itself swelling with anxiety that made fidgety Sera begin to rock violently against the back of her chair. Her head shaking hair into her face, like a curtain to hide what she feared was coming her way like the abusive hands of her father. 

The orderlies were already beginning to circle his chair, but Dr. Thompson held up a hand of warding. He reminded you too much of an irresponsible ring handler at a circus. Unwilling to recognize his own tiger was about to maim him. 

“No, no that’s fair enough. I see you have an issue with the way we try and help our patients.”

“Help?!” Jaebum snarled. “Is that what you call it? Like you helped Simon remember all the things he wanted to forget! Is that what you call endless therapies until he killed himself! You consider being helpful with the way you handled Ian?”

Dr. Thompson regarded Jaebum quietly, but his eyes were focused and searching the young man’s face. You watched in helpless awe as one stood like a calm in a blazing storm, while the other raged so furiously you thought the walls would come down. No longer was his voice a strong current, but now thunderous words that hurled like lightning bolts were being directed at the man before him. 

Jaebum was right. Sometimes, the doctors picked and picked a part at you until you were left bare and raw. And if their words didn’t do it their physical methods picked up where they lacked. His anger was justified, because deep down so were you. But you didn’t have the towering strength like he did to stand up to anyone. Your fear of the seclusion rooms kept you prisoner: locked in your chair as a simple flick of Dr. Thompson’s hand sent the orderlies rushing to Jaebum’s side. 

“I think that’s enough for today’s session.” 

In the back of your mind you knew that Jaebum was right. In part. Who were counselors and psychologists to tell the broken mirrors of people how to put their pieces back together? Only to end up with more blood on their hands from struggling to put sharp pieces in place. They studied people like you, Jaebum...people like Ian who were features in their college books. They themselves barely ever one to experience it themselves. 

Healing, even if unconventional, was still healing in the end. There was no right or wrong way to get there, but here, with people like Dr. Thompson, their textbook solutions were the only solutions. Maybe that’s why it backfired so terribly with Ian. 

So for once, you wanted to stand up with Jaebum. To call out the injustices of treatments forced on patients, like Ian. Treatments they’d placed on patients that only wanted to forget, because no one wants to remember traumas and everything that makes them feel like failures. 

You knew, however, if you took that chance to be brave for once you would end up like Jaebum. Uselessly struggling against orderlies who came prepared with syringes to make you complacent and an endless day being locked for god knew how long inside seclusion. 

It was cowardice that kept your mouth shut. All of you stayed quiet as an orderly you aptly nicknamed, “The Bull,” grabbed at the neck of Jaebum’s sweater. That was all it took for him to react violently. Jaebum’s elbow flew back with such force it dislodged The Bull’s grip, which only seemed to make it worse. 

“Jaebum, please do not struggle.” Dr. Thompson’s voice didn’t sound as soothing as he probably imagined. Obvious agitation outlined every word; the struggle forcing all of you up from your chairs and away from the fighting. “Everyone out. Now.” 

A part of you hated listening. For not firmly digging your feet in to stand for something you agreed wasn’t right. It was an odd thought. Since Ian was the usual instigator of the chaos of how these ended. Never Jaebum. Maybe he just felt like in Ian’s absence he needed to take over for him. 

“You play god with everyone’s emotions and leave them to drown alone in the aftermath. You are the reason Christian keeps escaping and Hyujin is gone! It’s you! It’s all of you!”

Jaebum’s rage became more apparent with each sentence and broke as his throat formed the words of his former friend. Former because he’d found himself as one of Dr. Thompson’s experimental new treatments. A treatment that brought back too much Hyujin couldn’t cope with - was forced to confront - before he was ready. 

The ward still felt hollow - missing in the sound of Hyujin’s laugh. 

You would’ve been impressed with the way Jaebum was laying into the doctor. He was holding his own against the orderly at his arms until the Bull snuck behind him and brought him falling down to the cold concrete floor. 

That was the last you saw of Jaebum as you were ushered outside the doors. You faced them for a long time. No one questioned why you stood at the entrance as Jaebum’s yelling dulled to nothing. It was too late for you to run back and play the role of knight in shining armor and standing in front of the door would only make the staff assume you were waiting to cause a scene. 

Turning on your heel you headed towards the living area. Your mind racing heavily with indecision and not paying attention to the overcrowded chairs and couches. You bypassed them all to head to your favorite window seat. It was opposite to the one everyone knew as Jaebum’s; reading a new book every week during free time. It was so engrained to the fabric of the facility that no one tried to take it from him. Not even Ian. 

You folded into yourself as soon as you sat down on the window seat. Your chin pressed into your shoulder so you could get a better look outside. The vibrant colors of changing leaves reminding you that fall was coming. Maybe they would let you work outside if you were good? You were tired of doing bathroom and kitchen duties, but because of Ian’s latest stunt no one was allowed outside. Not until the fences were made higher with wire curled along the top. 

If thoughts could be breathed into existence, you were positive you alone would be deemed responsible for Ian walking, right then and there, through the facility's double doors. Of course, Ian could never simply enter a room quietly.

Christian entered every room like a force. Wild and unpredictable. Mother Nature couldn’t compete with his massive hurricane personality. No one could come close, because underneath all that unhinged nature was a magmatism that far outreached just good looks. 

Was Christian good looking? Devilishly so. It was his way with words, however, that left many people reeling. Not just fellow patients, but staff as well. He was painfully charming and, if you weren’t prepared for his wide-set smile directed in your direction, you were going to find yourself in trouble. Deep, deep Christian-flavored trouble. The staff had even labeled him with a warning of “verbal jujitsu” - you had to stay miles ahead of the conversation or you’d find yourself like the recently fired psych tech who’d handed over the ward keys without a second thought.

Seriously. That’s how Christian escaped this time. All the other times, well, the man could be considered the second coming of Houdini. 

“How have you been, Bob? Are your feet still giving you grief, Margo?”

It was impressive how he acted like it wasn’t a big deal he’d magically reappeared. The guard and orderlies awkwardly keep watch over the double doors he’d come through like he’d disappear back into thin air. 

You hated how happy you became hearing the richness of his voice. The way his accent reminded you of the battle of wills on what was the proper way to say, “water,” and the teasing you gave him about constantly saying, “Naurr”. 

“It’s Margaret, jackass,” the older psych tech mumbled in reply. She didn’t even bother to look up from putting a new bandage on Bob’s hands.

“Missed you too, babe.” 

You watched his reflection in the safety of the glass of the window. You didn’t want to show how eager you were to see him - or to find out that every time he left the ward became almost too much to bear alone. 

In the safety of the window, you could pretend the call to freedom was what kept your eyes hypnotized. Not the sleeveless tee he’d tucked inside the waist of skinny jeans that hugged to the muscles like paint or the layers of tattoos that covered honey skin. He wasn’t tan when he’d left. Where had Ian’s adventures taken him this time? 

You would get the chance to ask him yourself. 

When his eyes caught sight of your huddled frame curled in the window seat his trajectory changed completely. He didn’t think you’d noticed him yet, but it didn’t stop his infamous megawatt smile from brightening up his features and the butterflies he’d left trapped in your gut instantly springing back to life. 

The only downside? You were more than positive Ian saw you only as a sister. If he’d thought of you in the past as anything else you would’ve definitely known by now. As much as Ian was known for his charisma and whirlwind energy, he was also known for slipping into the janitor’s closet with more than a few now-fired staff members. 

In a matter of seconds, he left the mirage of the window to become real beside you. The smell of cigarettes and his preferred cologne enveloped you, instantly turning the space intimate. You tried your best to ignore him. Ian would receive nothing but the side eye from you after the latest shit he’d pulled. 

He let out a heavy sigh as a finger playfully poked into your side. He wiggled the digit in a weak attempt to tickle you thinking it would be enough for you to finally look at him. Fat chance. Using your elbow, you pushed down with just enough force to dislodge him from your side. The act forced a heavy sigh to flare his nostrils as he leaned back against the window. 

“Come on, ‘Roo. You can’t be that mad at me?”

Of course, he would use your nickname. The nickname you earned one night when he’d tried to tickle you until you couldn’t breathe. To be honest, he thinks you’d kicked him accidentally in the chest because you might wet yourself. The truth? Ian had gotten dangerously close. A few times it felt like his lips were just a few sharp breaths away from landing on yours, and that night you’d felt hollow. So hollow. All you wanted was to burn and Ian…he was so full of fire and life and for once you wanted to know what it felt like to be filled with something other than emptiness. 

You wanted to catch fire too. 

So you’d kicked out at him in panic. Hence how you became his Kangaroo. His ‘Roo. 

“Actually,” you began, biting out the world with each syllable. “I can be upset with you and I most definitely am.”

“Don’t be like that, ‘Roo. I know you missed me.”

“No, I didn’t. It was rather peaceful while you were off on whatever antics you decided to get into.”

A tsk sent his bottom lip into a pout as he crossed his arms. His shoulders lean further down the window and slightly into your view. 

God, why did he have to be so heartbreakingly handsome? 

You refused to make eye contact with him. Don’t do it. It’s a trick. You knew it was a trick. A sneaky ploy and yet…you looked. One look was all it took and Ian knew he had you.

“I missed you.” His voice caressed your skin like velvet causing it to erupt in goosebumps. “So, I know if I missed you that can only mean that you missed me.”

A snort of disbelief left you as you finally gave him what he’d been asking: your full and undivided attention.  

“Is that how it works, Ian?”

“Ah!” He beamed. “She finally looks at me.” 

You couldn’t keep your eyes from rolling as you tried to face away from him, but Ian wasn’t having it. 

“I shouldn’t even do that.”

“Where is all this hostility coming from?” He pouted. “Did you experience another one of Dr. Thompson’s riveting group circles?”

“It’s not funny, Ian. You always leave.” You hated how your voice betrayed you. The way it cracked before you could glue it back together. “You go and leave me here, without you, all the time. One of these days you may not come back.”

All the playfulness slowly drained from his features. The sly smile wilted to a grimace as deep brown eyes scanned over your face. Calculating your words with the body language of guarded arms and saddened eyes. His hands gently grabbed at your elbows to loosen your arms before turning you to him. His head dipped down just a bit to make sure he had you at eye level. 

“Hey, ‘Roo. I’m sorry. I come back for you, you know that right?” You knew he was lying, but try telling that to the butterflies fluttering around like crazy in your gut. “These assholes could never catch me if I didn’t turn myself in, and I only turned myself in to get back to you.” 

You didn’t know what you would’ve said at that moment. Maybe something he wanted to hear or maybe - finally - you’d have the guts to call him out on his bullshit. Luckily for you, the muffled sound of Jaebum’s screaming slowly grew louder until his struggling body was brought through the double doors from therapy. 

“Let me go, you assholes!”

You’d never seen Jaebum fight so fiercely before. The way he flailed his arms to find a way to get them released along with his legs kicking out like a madman. They practically dragged him down the hall towards seclusion. For a split second, in his struggle, his eyes landed on you. His gaze held yours for what felt like a lifetime until the spell was broken. It felt like slow motion as his face turned to see Ian on your right and all the fight drained from his body. 

Did he think he was fighting for Ian? Himself? Jaebum was never much for acting out. That was usually Ian who created trouble. Maybe that was why he looked so shocked seeing Jaebum being dragged down to seclusion. 

“Oi! What the fuck is this?”

Ian was up off the window seat in seconds. A couple of orderlies were already coming out from behind the nursing station to meet him halfway. Whatever they were saying, you weren’t all too sure. Ian was doing his usual of screaming and shoving causing the orderlies to prepare for a fight. The patients closest to all the commotion desperately trying to get out of the way. 

It was all chaos. All classic Ian. The only non-classic thing was Jaebum looking at you in a way you’d never noticed before. It created a row of questions that sat heavily on your tongue and ones you weren’t sure he would ever be willing to answer. 

It wasn’t until everything had settled down again that you snuck inside the room that held group therapy. Your eyes instantly homing in on Jaebum’s chair and underneath it one of his grandfather’s books. 

Before you dared to push all the way through into the room you gave one last cautious glance to the recreation room and slipped inside. You made sure to hold the door so it didn’t click into place. There was no denying if you were caught sneaking in somewhere you weren’t meant to be you’d be joining Jaebum in your own seclusion room. 

The sterile room with its egg-white walls was most definitely not your favorite. The only way to add your own source of color to its walls was to display your thoughts - projecting them out like a fucked up home movie that you’d rather forget. 

You made sure to cut across the room silently. Your legs bending at the knee to swoop down to grab the worn-down cover and secure it to your chest. 

You couldn’t explain why as you made your way out of the room towards the upper floor that held the seclusion rooms what made you want to do this for him. It’s not like he would thank you, but you weren’t looking for that. 

It wasn’t hard to notice the way Jaebum cared for his late grandfather's things. From the sweater he wore daily that was meticulously cleaned and laundered to the few books Jaebum was able to keep from his collection. He coveted them the way others valued trophies but it wasn’t praise that Jaebum found secluded inside their pages: it was peace. 

You didn’t know much about him. Jaebum wasn’t much of a sharer. He was reserved. The only way to know him was by the pages you held close to your chest. So, you weren’t terribly sure why you were doing this for him except for the fact you believed no one should go without something that they loved. 

Just as you were about to round the last corner to the hallway that held seclusion rooms 1 through 3, you caught a flash of an orderly speaking to a nurse. From the brief moment you’d caught before you found the safety of the opposite wall, they were more than likely flirting. 

Ted. That was the name written on his uniform. He’d called Ian a “Psycho,” a handful of times. You wondered if Ted knew the nurse he worshiped spent the same handful of nights sneaking inside Ian’s dorm. 

“Do you maybe want to go get breakfast in the morning?” 

Breakfast?! You mouthed to yourself before you snuck another peek around the corner. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Ted. I might have plans later.”

If your eyes could roll back any harder you would’ve seen brain cells. You knew exactly what her supposed plans were. You could already hear the moans that echoed down the halls like a haunting. The only thing haunted here would be you. 

You didn’t have to see Ted’s expression to know he was defeated. He was probably wondering how someone could refuse breakfast or maybe he was finally growing tired of being told no. The mystery of the unknown in this love triangle would sadly (not really) remain a mystery. You didn’t really care if they had breakfast together or hunted Easter eggs. You just wanted them to finish their awkward conversation and leave the damn hallway. 

A few more strangled pieces of conversation later and you could hear the shuffling of feet. Quickly, you moved inside a linen closet and quietly shut the door. Your ears straining - waiting - to hear a pair of feet move past your location so you could finish what you came to do. 

Every second you were out here and not inside your own dorm waiting for the nurses to come in and check you were there was one second too many in a chance at punishment. After a few more minutes went by and the coast sounded relatively clear, you creeped out from the linen closet and dashed towards the seclusion rooms. 

“Jaebum!?” You half whispered half yelled. “Jay!”

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

Ah, there was that condescending voice you’d grown accustomed to. Following the sound of his voice, and with the help of his fingers hanging out of the small seclusion window, you darted towards the back of the hall. Your arms still securely held onto his grandfather’s book and only began to loosen as you got closer to the door. 

“I wanted to bring you something before they placed it in lost and found.” 

With another cautious glance down the hall, your fingers wrapped around the edges of the book's spine. You offered it up to him and gently started to push it through the small window. Jaebum hadn’t spoken since he noticed what you held in your hands. His fingers overlapped yours as he took it from you. His arms immediately brought it inside with him with the sound of pages flipping while he made sure each page was still accounted for. 

“How did you-“ he began, but his words quickly died out. 

“Can you believe it ladies and gentlemen? For once, he was too stunned to speak,” you teased. 

Jaebum’s eyes narrowed in on your face. His hands wagged the book as if he was going to hit you over the head with it. Who knows, he might have if there wasn’t a 30-pound door stationed between you. 

“I’m serious. You came all this way to give me this?”

You shrugged his words off like what you’d done wasn’t a big deal. Both of you knew it was. So many factors that could lead you to where he was, or worse, if they believed you were trying to steal someone else’s property. Which, they one hundred percent would even though kleptomania wasn’t part of your conga line list of disorders. 

“I remember how much his things matter to you. I didn’t want Bull or Kojak The Great Dick to get a hold of it. I know they wouldn’t have respected it after today.”

You’d expected a lot of things to come out of this exchange. The main one? At least a thank you. All you were getting now felt like the cold shoulder that featured a very unnerving stare. With every second you were feeling more self-conscious and it took everything in you not to shout, “Boo!” in an attempt to get him to blink. 

You couldn’t take the awkwardness of the exchange any longer. Your feet were already backpedaling as your arms swung, thumb extended out, to indicate your exit before you spoke. 

“Great well, this was a fun chat-“

“He lies to you, you know.”

Jaebum’s words took you by surprise. You were sure that was the point. His face was set in deep lines of determination as if what he needed to say was something you needed to adhere to like the gospel from the Bible. 

“Okay, Jay I’ll bite: who is he?”

“You know who I’m talking about. Ian. It’s who he is. He doesn’t know how to tell the truth, and you always set yourself up for failure with him.”

Maybe Jaebum thought he was being helpful - calling to light all things you were aware of but couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. You must have seemed too weak - gullible - in his eyes for him to believe he needed to say these things. 

You eyed him coolly through the window. Your tongue rolled around inside your cheek trying to decide what exactly you should say at this moment. Did he want recognition that you knew you were an idiot? What did it matter to him if you knew Ian didn’t give two fucks about you. 

So, the only thing you could settle on was the beginning of a long sigh before you spoke: “I know I might look like a love-sick puppy to you, Jay, but I know my place.”

He tried saying your name to stop you. You just ignored him as you shook your head and allowed yourself to begin to move back down the hall towards the safety of your own dorm. 

“It’s alright, Jay I get it. Take care of your grandfather’s things better, okay?”

You didn’t wait to finish your sentence before you were already turning to head down the hallway. The bottom of your feet itching for you to sprint in the opposite direction. Your mind raced over Jaebum’s words and matched them with the growing chasm in your chest.

So lost in your head, you barely caught the sound of his parting, “Thank you,” as you bolted around the corner. 

[yoonia]

Chance Encounter | masterlist

⟶ Title | Chance Encounter

⟶ Summary | Sometimes your fangirling can cause you a lot of problems. Add alcohol and your clumsy thumb into the mix, followed by waking up to an accidental DM getting sent on Instagram, and your life changes forever. The entire mess leads you to an odd form of friendship with the man who you had always admired. But what happens when your two worlds collide, blurring the lines between reality and dreams? Will you be able to return to your real-life once this is over?

⟶ Prompt | Inspired by the infamous DM mishap which happened to me sometime ago, so I decided to just write the whole thing down as a cute reminder.

⟶ Pairings | Christian Yu ( DPR +IAN / Yu Barom ) x reader

⟶ Genre | Teacher’s Aide!AU, College!AU, Fluff, Future Smut

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; appropriate warnings will be applied on each chapter whenever necessary.

⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: chapter 6 (August 12th, 2023) — 59,130 words of n/a words

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

⟶ Cross post | AO3

⟶ Chapters

⇢ Chapter 01 ✓ ⇢ Chapter 02 ✓ ⇢ Chapter 03 ✓ ⇢ Chapter 04 ✓ ⇢ Chapter 05 ✓ ⇢ Chapter 06 ✓ ⇢ Chapter 07 ✎ (coming soon)

⟶ Music Companion | Alina Baraz - Pretty Thoughts (FKJ Remix) — DPR Ian - Ballroom Extravaganza — Anfa Rose - Tangier — benny maine - Bounce — Billie Eilish - Lovely (feat. Khalid) — Prismo - Pretty Stranger — blackbear - idfc — DPR Ian - So Beautiful — Eden Project - XO — dvsn - You Do — Chris Brown - Under The Influence — FKJ - Better Give U Up — DPR Ian - Nerves — July 7 - Talk To Me — Portugal. The Man - Feel It Still (Lido remix) — DPR Ian - Mood — Bjork - Jóga

Listen on Spotify

— © 2018-2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.