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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

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The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,510

Warnings: Minor Angst, Mentions of Semi- Forced Prostitution, Manipulation, Ketch is a HUGE douchebag, Anxiety, Sickness, FLUFF!

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Are you ready to hate Ketch more? Happy Sunday!! As always, I love hearing your thoughts on this story!! Only two parts left after this!! Happy reading!!

Finally!

You were free.

You walked out of the building with your head held high. You had just finished your last final for the semester and you had a great feeling about it. Not only was it your easiest exam, but it was also your longest. It was a simple essay about the things you had learned in the class throughout the semester and how they are relevant to your life outside of the class. It was simple and you finished it in record time. Now you were free until next semester. You had all of Christmas break to relax and spend time with your boyfriend.

It was your turn to pick up the groceries this week. Dean had wanted you to grab him some shampoo, and a stick of deodorant. That was all he needed. You on the other hand needed a bunch of things. You were out of tampons and running low on pain meds for the monthly visit from Mother Nature. The fridge was practically empty, and the freezer was no better.

You grabbed a cart before entering the store. It was pretty empty for just after one in the afternoon. Everyone was at work, which was going to make shopping a little easier. You went about your usual routine. Starting with fruits and vegetables. You had certain things you needed in order to make dinner. Dean liked to have lettuce in the house at all times because of how useful it was. Tacos, burgers, salads. So many purposes. You picked up some carrots, onions and celery too, knowing it was going to get cold. It was always good to have for soup.

You turned down the aisle you needed the most, grabbing a box of tampons off the shelf, along with a box of pads, just in case. Your cart was getting pretty full with all of the stuff you threw in on your way to this aisle. You headed straight, knowing that Dean’s shampoo would be at the other end when you hit something.

“Y/N,” the female voice breathed out. Your eyes darted up, not believing what you were seeing. The last person you wanted to see, well, one of the last people you wanted to see anyways. Hell, you were surprised she spoke.

“Jo,” you scoffed, taking your cart to move away from her.

“Y/N, wait,” she called out.

“What? What do you want Jo?” you rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up in defeat. Her stomach was huge. She had to be seven months along by now, at least. You had to admit to yourself, it was a little funny to see her in this situation.

“To apologize,” she frowned. “Can - can I take you out to lunch, please. I promise, one lunch and I’ll leave you be.”

“What’s the point?” you sighed.

“We were best friends at one point,” she sniffled.

“Were,” you pointed out.

“Please. I just - I want to explain things,” she shrugged. “Please. You can hate me all you want after. But I’d really like to tell you everything.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “One lunch.”

“I’ll meet you at Benny’s in twenty?” she told you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

You went about the rest of your groceries. Your mind was reeling over what just happened. What could she possibly have to say to you, especially after all this time? She had Ketch, and she had a baby on the way. She was wasting her time, and quite frankly, so were you. There was nothing more she could say to make amends for all she did. She had proven she didn’t care about you long ago.

You paid for your groceries and headed back out to your car. Thankfully, you didn’t buy anything frozen so you could afford to sit for a little while without things melting. You didn’t think this lunch was going to last long whatsoever. You had visions of you storming out on her. Or worse, seeing Ketch there with her. You really didn’t want to do this. Why did you have to be a good person? Why did you have to listen to that tiny voice in the back of your head that was telling you to hear her out.

You pulled into the parking lot at Benny’s, taking the first available spot around the side of the building. You swallowed hard, knowing full well you should have ditched and headed home. You held your head high, willing yourself to stay confident. You didn’t want her to see you were weak or hurt by this. You were over this now. You were over Ketch and you had moved on. Your life was going better than it had been for a long time. You weren’t about to resort back to how things were before.

Jo was sitting in one of the booths that the group of you used to sit in late at night when you were drunk. They served the best of everything in this diner. It was a shock that you and Dean hadn’t eaten here yet. He’d like everything here, you thought to yourself. She had her hands out in front of her, linked together. You could see she was nervous. She had every right to be after what she had done to you.

“Hi,” you greeted her. Her head flicked up, her eyes meeting yours.

“Hi,” she swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I’m a woman of my word,” you said plainly, taking a seat in front of her. You kept your expression emotionless.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, for everything,” she breathed out. “Words can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you.”

“You’re damn right,” you scoffed. “There is nothing you can say that is going to make up for two years of it, Jo. Nothing. I don’t know what your intentions were when you wanted to talk, but if you thought I was just going to forgive you and we’d be best friends again, then you are stupid.”

“Y/N, I’m not expecting your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted you to know my side of it. I should have told you about it. I really should have, but I was in trouble,” she began. “I- I was running out of money about two years ago. My mom only left me a little bit of money, the rest had to go towards paying off her debts, and everything else. I needed a job, so I asked Ketch if he could get me a job somewhere. A waitress at the country club, anything! I was desperate. I had nothing. I was about to be kicked out of my apartment. He told me he had a job for me and to show up at his place at nine. I thought I was helping with a party or something. Turns out he was offering me money to sleep with Mick. So I did. I made a couple of grand for a couple of nights. I thought that was it. I had enough to keep my apartment, and I got the job on campus like I told you. Then he told me that he’d pay me more for a threesome. I figured the extra cash would help so I agreed. I didn’t know it was him until after the fact. He’s been paying me to keep quiet about it and to keep sleeping with him. He didn’t want to screw things up with you. He does love you, I want you to know that that part wasn’t made up. He was pissed and heartbroken when you didn’t show up for the wedding. I found out I was pregnant a few days after the wedding-”

“I’m sorry, but he didn’t love me if he was sleeping with you,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry that things turned out that way for you, I am. But I wish someone would have told me I was wasting my time on him. I could have been happy with someone else. I was going to marry him! Why didn’t you stop that? Why weren’t you my friend? Why was he more important than that?”

“You’re right. I realize that now. I’m nearly eight months pregnant with his baby; a baby he doesn’t want. I screwed up my life. I know he’s not going to stick around when I have her,” she admitted. “But I want you to know that he’s not over you. He’s convinced that he’s going to win you back. He’s just giving you space.”

“I’m with someone else now,” you shared. “Ketch is dead to me as far as I’m concerned.”

“Good for you. I hope this one treats you much better than he did. You deserve so much better than Ketch was to you. He controlled you too much. You look happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. You haven’t messed your life up like I have.”

“It’s not completely your fault,” you shrugged. “You didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“I had choices, I just made the wrong ones until I couldn’t get out of them,” she swallowed hard. “I’m glad you’re okay after all of it. I’m glad nothing happened to you. You deserve a better life than what was given to you.”

“It took me a long time to be okay,” you admitted. “I - I wish you the best with your life, and your baby. Congratulations on the girl, by the way. I hope for your sake, he sticks around to help you. For once, he should pay for his mistakes.”

“Who knows with him,” she whispered. “His parents are being more than supportive. Makes up for him.”

“Good. I’m glad,” you nodded.

“I should let you go, get back to your boyfriend and your life. You’ve got groceries,” she reminded you. “Thank you for coming.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Good luck with everything.”

“Can - can I call you after she’s born?” she questioned.

“Sure,” you agreed. “Take care.”

You hopped back in your car, peeling out of the parking lot to head home. There was a part of you that felt really bad for her. It all started because she needed money. All because her mom died suddenly and she couldn’t handle things on her own. She made bad choices after bad choices and ended up in an even worse situation with a monster. You understood where she was coming from. You were happy you sat down with her and learned what you did. Ketch was an asshole, but then again you already knew that. It just sucked it took her this long to come forward. It didn’t matter to you at this point. You were over it.

You pulled into the driveway, finding Dean’s car still sitting in it’s usual spot. Was he home from work early today? It was rare for him to be home early. You managed to take all the bags inside in one go. The front door was already unlocked for you, and quite frankly, you couldn’t wait to see your handsome boyfriend when you walked inside.

“Dean, I’m home,” you called out as you shut the door. Pure silence. Not a single sound from the house. You shrugged it off as you kicked your shoes off, taking the grocery bags to the kitchen.

You began unpacking them, putting everything on the counters before putting them in their respective places in the house. It looked like a lot more in the cart than it did when you had it on the kitchen counter.

“Hi,” his deep voice called out. You smiled, turning around to face him. Your face dropped when you saw him. His nose was red, his eyes a little puffy. He looked exhausted standing there in a green henley and pyjama pants.

“Hi handsome,” you cocked your head to the side. “No offense babe, but you look a little under the weather.”

“I caught a damn cold,” he pouted. Your heart melted at how adorable his pout was. He could get you in a lot of trouble with a face like that.

“Poor baby,” you frowned. “I can make you some soup if you want?”

“Would you mind? I feel like shit - no I feel worse than shit,” he admitted. “My nose is stuffy, my head is pounding. My throat is killing me. The worst part is that I can’t even kiss my girlfriend when she gets home from finishing her last exam.”

“Come kiss my cheek,” you smiled. “I’m not afraid of your germs.”

He slowly stepped over to you, a smile creeping up on his lips. You reached your arm out, your heart rate picking up as he grew closer, slipping into your hold. His lips pressed against your cheek, lingering a little longer than you anticipated.

“How did your final go?” he asked you, moving to sit on top of the counter.

“Aced it,” you grinned. “As you can see I went grocery shopping. Any kind of soup you want?”

“Can you make tomato rice?” he pleaded, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

“Anything for that face,” you beamed. “I want you to go into my bathroom, the drawer on the left. There is some dayquil in there that should help you feel a bit better. I’ll give you the nyquil before bed tonight.”

“Thank you,” he muttered. “I’ll take these with me.” He grabbed the two boxes of yours off the counter before heading to your room. You smiled as you watched him walk away.

You managed to get the rest of the groceries away without a problem. You felt bad for Dean. Having a cold was the worst and he sounded like he was suffering. You could only hope that the dayquil helped him, along with the soup you were making. You didn’t like seeing him sick.

“Y/N,” he called out, his voice coming out raspy.

“Hmm?” you cocked your eyebrow, glancing over at him.

“I would help but-”

“Go lay down. I’ll bring your soup in for you in a little bit. I’ll hold you later, play with your hair the way you like it,” you assured him.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he muttered the best he could.

“Nah, that’s me,” you winked.

You pulled out the supplies you needed to make his tomato and rice soup. You couldn’t have been more thankful for the vegetables you picked up. You had everything you needed to make it. You just hoped it was good. You hoped it made him feel a million times better. You didn’t like seeing him sick like this. He looked miserable.

It took about an hour to get the soup done. It looked and smelled delicious. You couldn’t wait to try it for the first time. You placed two bowls on a tray you had tucked away in a cupboard, along with two glasses of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers.

You walked over to Dean, seeing him curled up on the couch with a blanket covering his body. He was exhausted. You just wanted to hold him until he felt better. He had what looked to be Snow Day, playing on the tv. Not that he was paying attention.

“Babe, time for some soup,” you whispered, nudging him awake. He let out a groan, shifting from his lying position just a little.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “tired.”

“I know,” you frowned. “I’ve got your soup, and some crackers. I hope this makes you feel a little better.”

“Me too,” he let out a dry laugh. “Thank you for making me this.”

“‘Course, boyfriend,” you giggled. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will,” he nodded, taking the spoon off the tray. The steam coming off the soup was still pretty strong. You took a spoonful, blowing on it before taking your first bite. The flavours hit your taste buds instantly. It was delicious. One of the nicest soups you had ever made. Dean looked like he was enjoying it. “This is delicious, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you beamed at him. “Fingers crossed this makes you feel better.”

“Just seeing you makes me feel better,” he shared with you.

“You’re such a sap,” you giggled. “I love that about you.”

“I gotta make up for not being able to kiss you for the next couple of days,” he shrugged.

“You’re cute,” you smiled softly. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he shrugged. “How was your day anyways?”

“Interesting,” you started. “I uh- I ran into Jo in the grocery store. She asked me to have lunch with her.”

“Did you end up going?” he questioned, taking another bite of his soup.

“Yeah, I did. We didn’t eat lunch or anything, but I heard what she had to say,” you began. “She told me about what happened between her and Ketch. How it all got started. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it at first. But I was kind of glad she told me. She was having money problems after her mom died, and Ketch offered her money to sleep with his friend. It ended up that he was paying her to sleep with him and to keep it quiet after that. She told me that he loves me and all that jazz. He’s apparently heartbroken that we’re over and he doesn’t want anything to do with her or their kid.”

“That really doesn’t surprise me all that much,” he admitted. “Did she apologize to you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “She did. But we’re never going to be friends like we were before. Or even acquaintances.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be either. I’m glad she apologized to you though. She owned you that much. It's a little sad it took her this long to do it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I told her that part of my life was over and I had moved on with someone pretty great.” you nudged him. You looked over at him, seeing the smile appear across his cheeks. You liked seeing him smile like that. You knew you did a good job of making him feel wanted and that was something he needed.

“I’m not that great,” he shrugged. “Better than Ketch in some ways-”

“Dean Winchester, one, don’t you dare compare yourself to someone like Ketch, ever! And second, you are the best person I know,” you argued.

“Y/N, I can’t give you what he surely could have. I’m not rich or have connections like he does-”

“And I’m not asking you to,” you assured him, letting out a breath. You glanced over at him, seeing the sad look in his eyes. That same sad look he wore for a little while when he moved in all those months ago. He had the same look he had from time to time when he didn’t feel so great. “Dean, that’s not really the problem is it?”

“I just- I’m having an off day, and I’m not sure I deserve you.”

“C’mere,” you muttered. He placed his half eaten bowl of soup on the table in front of the couch, you doing the same. There was no way you were letting him feel like this. He shifted closer to you and you opened your arms up for him to move into. He rested his head on your shoulder, melting into your hold. You pressed your lips against his heated forehead before resting your cheek on his head.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You know that,” you stated. “Ketch isn’t half the man you are. He may have more money than he needs, and connections to a lot of people. That’s what my mom wants. Not me. I don’t care how much you make, or what kind of job you have. I care about you. I care about the person you are, and the relationship we have. Nothing materialistic matters to me. Not in the same way it does to everyone else I grew up with. As far as I’m concerned, this is exactly where I want to be. You’re exactly who I want to be with. My best friend.”

“Me too,” he nodded.

“Good,” you smiled softly. “I’ll always be here for you. Whether it’s when you’re dying from sickness, or your head’s not okay. I’ll always be here to make sure you’re okay, Dean.”

“Goes the same the other way around,” he sniffled before clearing his raspy throat. “I love you, you know that?”

You swore, your heart was going to leap out of your chest. Dean just muttered those three words to you. He said them first. He had a fever of one hundred and something, and you knew he was high on cold medication, but he still said them. Your lip curled upwards, tugging him closer to you before you placed another kiss to the top of his head.

“I know,” you nodded. “I love you too.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice going a little higher than normal.

“Really,” you stated. “My poor sick boyfriend.”

“Is it okay that I said it?” he mumbled. “It’s not too fast?”

“Not too fast,” you whispered. “Thank you for saying them. Means a lot to me that you do.”

“Means a lot that you do too,” he said lowly. “I’m pretty sure I took nyquil.”

“I’m pretty sure you did too, babe,” you giggled. “Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

“Mhhh good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your responses and comments are what keep me sharing stories like this one!

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winterrose527 · 3 years

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Now i must know - does your mom cook and, if so, what does she make for you when you go home???

My mother is such a wonderful cook. Her love language (or one of them anyway) is also cooking for people. She makes her own ice cream (which is really more like gelato in the best ways) and bread and 1,000 things in between.

I actually didn't cook for a long time because I found myself so intimidated (and still hate to cook in her kitchen). She's such a warm, supportive, loving mother who fawns over anything I've ever made for her, but I find it harder to cook for her than anyone else.

Basically two weeks in advance (or longer depending on how long it's been since I've been home) she starts asking me what I want to eat. You know I don't have the best relationship with food and my mom basically makes every single thing she can imagine will entice me as she has literally zero patience for it.

My absolute favorite dessert in the world (which is really saying something both as her daughter and as a girl with a sweet tooth) is her pistachio ice cream. It's to die for, so there's typically some of that in the freezer.

She and I both really love Indian flavors and she makes a wonderful - and healthy - vegetable curry that I'll usually request. Though don't ask me for the recipe, because she doesn't use one (which I find infuriating).

When we are feeling bad she also makes this lemon pasta with crushed toasted pistachios (noticing a trend here?) with a salad of Boston Bibb Lettuce (the absolute best lettuce in the world, no I will not be taking questions at this time) with homemade (and rotten for you) poppyseed dressing (the recipe for which goes back to the 1950s or something).

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #424

“got no superspeed, but i’m running this town”

What is the first line in the song you are currently listening to/last listened to? "I’m running out of time; I hope that I can save you somehow.” Are you an easy lay? Not in the slightest. What was the last reason you cried? Life and how inexplicably I'm failing at it. What’s hurting you right now? More like what isn't. Do you remember important dates? Only some. I'm awful with numbers. Do you own anything with the Playboy Bunny on it? No. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever played Gamecube? At a friend's house. Have you ever played with toy cars before? Yeah, with my nephew. He LOVES monster trucks. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh, definitely. I loved picking them up as a kid. What is your favorite kind of salad? Just plain 'ole iceberg lettuce with ranch, really. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? Holy hell no, I SUCK. What was/is your high school mascot? A firebird. Can you make cute little animals by folding paper? God no, I'm awful at origami. Like, I have zero concept of how to do it. What kind of music do you like? Various types of metal and rock. Do you like apple juice? Yeah. Do you like to draw? It's funny, like I do love it, but I barely ever do it because I get frustrated when I can't get what's in my head onto paper. What do you put on your french fries? Generally ketchup. How many people can comfortably sleep in your bed? Two. Do you want to have a big family in the future? I don't want kids, just pets. Probably a lot of pets. Is Vegas one of your must-see places? No. Pet rat: yay or nay? I've had multiple pet rats and I adore them. I've come to find I'm not the best at keeping rodents because changing the bedding so much sucks ass, but nevertheless they are fantastic pets for people who don't mind the maintenance. Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? Yes. I haven't written in a while, though. I just have absolutely zero motivation to RP. Are you good at reading people's body language? I probably overanalyze it, really. Ever threatened somebody and actually went through with it? I don’t threaten people. Does holding newborn babies scare you? Extremely. I feel like they're made of thin glass. Piercings: yay or nay? I LOVE piercings. They add an interesting touch to your appearance and to me just (usually) look super cool. There are very few piercings I don't like. Do you have a collage of pictures in your bedroom? No, but I want to make a motivation board very badly. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Were video games better in the 1980s, 1990s, or the 2000s? Why? '80s games bore me honestly, but I love some '90s and many 2000s games. I've got to say ultimately newer games win, because of graphics increasing immersion (no, I do not whatsoever believe graphics are everything or always make a better experience), voice acting improving immensely, etc. Have you ever watched The Beverly Hillbillies? Yes! Mom loves it so I used to watch it a lot with her as a kid. I'd still watch it. Did your mother ever sing lullabies to you when you were younger? Yes. Are you ready to get out of this town? I HATE THIS TOOOWN, IT'S SO WASHED UUU-UP, AND ALL MY FRIENDS DON'T GIVE A FUUU-UUUUUCK god hell yes get me the fuck out. Do you know anybody that is pregnant right now? Quite a few. What are you listening to? "Superluv” by Shane Dawson. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. Does your father have any facial hair? Yes. Did your grandparents teach you anything? My maternal grandmother, the only one I really ever knew, taught me I'm a disappointment, pretty much. And a bitch. Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? It'd be nice to have one, but I don't, and I'm not pursuing it again. I've wasted enough of my parents' money. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favourite? Not seriously, but I enjoy them well enough. I like Spider-Man. What did you have for dinner last night? Mom ordered Mexican. I had two shrimp and cheese quesadillas and rice with cheese. Do you think you look similar to your siblings? No. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? Yeah, it's fun. Do you know your best friend’s middle name? Yes. Are you close to your father? I am. Have you ever had a serious conversation with your dad? Yeah. Would you rather have long or short hair? I enjoy having short hair way more. Who did you go/plan on going with to prom? I went with Jason twice. Have you ever been to a debate and speech tournament? Hell no, and I never would. Arguing makes me cry lmao. Are you someone who enjoys stand-up comedy? Yep. What’s one thing that scares you about living alone and being independent? A lot of things do, but one thing in specific that I fear is that I let the house become cluttered and messy. I'm so shit at cleaning, especially when I'm depressed. It's why my own bedroom isn't even fully decorated, and we've lived here since I wanna say last November. If someone offered you an all-expenses paid trip to one European country, where would you go and why? Germany, 'cuz I enjoy the culture and would love to try some foods and visit places. Have you ever won anything on the lottery? No. Are you interested in the World Cup? I couldn't possibly care less. What’s the longest time you’ve ever been on a plane for? Idk. Do you let your hair dry naturally or do you towel-dry it or blow dry it? I use a towel to dry it some, then let it really get the job done naturally. How many of the Harry Potter books have you read? None. Who last gave you their number? When I posted on Facebook about going on a mental health hiatus, my good friend Alon messaged me her number if I ever needed to talk. I was really thankful. Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Honestly yeah. I'm slow to grasp a lot of things. Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? Never gotten or given one. Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes to both. Are you mad right now? I'm annoyed, but not mad. Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? No. Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No. Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Yeah, I love milk. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? It is EXTREMELY sensitive. What was the last situation to upset you? I'd rather not talk about it. Have you ever had an online argument? I have been heavily active on the Internet since I was like, 11. Maybe younger. I have been in plenty. Are you at risk for any medical issues? A lot of heart problems run in my family. I'm also suspicious I may develop diabetes, which also runs very heavily in my family. What were you doing at 7:00 a.m.? Surprisingly, I was asleep. Do you own a robe? No. What would you consider your life to be? A wreck. What is your favorite mark of punctuation? I like question marks. Who knows your biggest secret? Nobody. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Probably not. How do you know? I just doubt it. I'm so unlikable right now. Could you go a day without eating? I don't think I could. I do not react to stomach pain well, and that includes when I'm hungry. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None. What’s your favorite drink? Strawberry Sunkist, but I don't allow myself to have it. I will DESTROY a can or five of it. Who was the last person that texted you? My mom. What are you craving? Nothing really right now. What was the first thing you ate today? An everything bagel. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. Have you taken any medication today? Yeah, I take some prescription meds in the morning and at night. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but that'd be cool. Do you know anyone who has diabetes? My mom, for one. Have you ever made a boy cry? Sadly. Who are you talking to? Nobody. Do you think you’ve ruined your chances with someone? Absolutely. Your parents split; would you want to live with your mom or dad? My parents are divorced, and I stayed with Mom. Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color/racial background? I couldn't care less. For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy? For others, absolutely. It's your right. For me myself, it's possible, idk. If I was God forbid raped, I probably would have an abortion. If I accidentally got pregnant in a healthy relationship, I'd probably have a "too bad, so sad" outlook where I'd suck it up and go through with the gestation because having sex and risking pregnancy was my own decision. Even if I'm pro-choice, I think I'd feel too guilty aborting, especially with the child being someone's I love. Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other (via phone, text, in person, whatever)? IF I had an s/o, no. I like to, but sometimes you just want space. Are you fetish-friendly? I'm not gonna lie, some fetishes are just too fucking weird for me. I TRY not to judge, because I doubt you can actually help fetishes, but I inevitably do sometimes. If you're asking would I engage in fetishes because my s/o liked them, possibly, but it would really depend on what it is. Have you ever cosplayed? No. I think cosplay is really cool, though. Do you support the exploration of outer space? If yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet? As creatures who crave knowledge and understanding of our universe, I do support space exploration, but I do NOT believe we should be spending as much money as we do on it. Taking care of the planet we're actually on is far more important imo. I wouldn't personally go to outer space. Is it okay for men to wear makeup? What’s your opinion of male crossdressers? It's totally okay! Guys with makeup can be super attractive. Crossdressers, too. Go for it. You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners. Does that sound like a lot to you? For me personally, yes. I don't even know if I'd date someone with 14 past sexual partners, honestly. I would admittedly question their loyalty. Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity? No. If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” would you know the answer right away? I would. What is your opinion concerning strip clubs? Not my scene at all, but so long as you respect the dancers, whatever. You do you.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''superluv'' by shane dawson

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heejayy · 4 years

Text

Being on a Diet

╰ Pairing: Hip-hop Unit x reader

╰ Genre: nonsense, crack

╰ Warning: Strong Language

╰ Word Count: 720

a/n: sorry for any grammar mistakes I reread it but I could’ve missed something. Also if anyone wants to request anything you’re more than welcomed! Enjoy!! ❤️

Seungcheol (승철)

You randomly woke up in the middle of the night starving you were suppose to be on diet so you could lose weight for your wedding, but you were so hungry you just said fuck it and went to the kitchen to feast on junk food. 10 minutes later your fiancé Seungcheol came in and seen you. He just couldn't help but tease you.

"Um babe I thought you were on a diet?" He questioned leaning against the door frame. You jumped from being startled and turned around with a donut in your mouth. You finished eating it and muttered a whiny "leave me alone" he chuckled walking over wiping the glaze from the donut off the side of your mouth. "It's ok eat as much as you want my beautiful babygirl" he whispered kissing the top off you head.

Wonu (원우)

Yeah you were suppose to be on a diet but like ok? It doesn't matter anymore you like food and that's that.

While Wonu was upstairs showering you decided to make a quick healthy snack. You got some oranges, apples, bananas and cute them up and put them in a bowl and threw in some grapes. You munched on that for a while while scrolling the TikTok on your phone. After a few minutes your stomach started to growl and that's when you realized this diet isn't it! You put away your fruit and grabbed the brownies Chan made last night.

You took three and placed them on a small plate and went to town. You haven’t had something sweet in forvever it tasted like heaven "Mmmmmhh this tastes amazing!"

"Oooh Ms. I'm on a diet!! Cheating already?" Wonwoo taunted grabbing your last brownie. Swear you didn’t even hear him come down stairs "Piss off!" You warned sending a glare, he laughed not taking you seriously "it's okay love bug eat all you want" he kissed you cheek walking out of the kitchen.

Mingyu (민규)

You wanted to go on a diet because you thought you were gaining too much weight, plus if you wanted to compete with the women who wanted Mingyu you'd have to step your game up.

Mingyu knew you weren't going to stay on it long, but not because he didn't believe in you he supports you 100% but you've tried to eat healthy many times before but you didn't have a plan nor anyone to guid you to eat healthy so it didn't work. "Mingyu" you whispered poking him. "Hmm" he hummed turning around with his cute bed head. "Um I'm sorry to bother you when your sleeping but I'm hungry..." you mumbled looking around your dark bedroom.

He let out a raspy chuckle "you want me to make you something?" You nodded smiling. He slid out of bed not bothering to put on a shirt. “You know you don’t have to go on a diet to look beautiful. You look beautiful with your little pouch and your thick thighs” he confessed giving your butt a slap walking pass you. “Thank you” you giggled walking up behind him and giving him a back hug.

An hour later you had some delicious cheese tteokbokki in front of you. "You know I could've settled for some ramen right?" You muttered mouth full of tteokbokki. "Shh don't speak with your mouth full" he shushed you holding his chopsticks up to your mouth. “Just enjoy it babe”.

Vernon (버논)

You were out on a date with your beloved boyfriend. He just ordered all this delicious food and now you were regretting getting a plain salad. Vernon could tell you didn't want it because you were picking over it. "You hate it don't you? Told ya not to get it" he laughed while filling his mouth with big piece of juicy steak. You stared at him for a minute "Shut up" you retorted rolling your eyes sticking a piece of dry ass lettuce into your mouth. "You want something el-" "yes please" you blurted out before he could finish his sentence. He laughed shaking his head calling the waiter over.

Not too long after you were enjoying Chicken Alfredo with garlic sticks. Vernon just watched as you enjoyed your food. "You shouldn't have to go in a diet your beautiful the way you are" he smiled petting your head. You returned the smile blushing. "Thank you baby".

Part 1, 2, 3

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lu-undy · 3 years

Text

Chapter 88 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mh, now I'm no expert on wines but that's a good one, I like it!" Mike said as he put his glass back on the table. "C'mon, boys, help yourselves to the nibbles, otherwise I'll eat everythin' and Caroline will tell me off…!"

"As I should!" She answered. "But yes, please, Lucien.. Micky, push the olives to him, dear."

"Sure…" Mundy obeyed.

"I am glad you like the wine, Mike. Madame Caroline, what are your impressions?" Lucien asked.

"Very good too, not too sweet and not too fruity."

Lucien nodded and smiled.

"So Mundy got his impressively delicate palate from you, Madame?"

"Oh?" She answered. "And please, call me Caroline."

"I shall. But oui, Mundy is gifted when it comes to tasting." Lucien went on and Mundy's cheeks turned pink.

"Well… Uh… I don't know… I mean…"

Caroline chuckled.

"Well, he is my baby after all, aren't you Micky?" She pinched his cheek and he smiled.

"Château… des… Graves?" Mike deciphered with his English pronunciation.

"Château des Graves." Lucien corrected. "Made where I come from."

"Where's that?" Mike asked.

"The region around Bordeaux, in the South-West of France."

"Bordeaux…" Mike repeated. "Isn't that the region famous for its wine?"

"Oui, the red kind in particular although our winemakers are getting better with white and rosé these days." Lucien commented as everyone snacked on between two sentences.

"So what's your story?" Mike asked. "Micky told us you were French, and if may say so, I can quite hear it in your voice, eh."

"Oh yes, charming accent!" Caroline added.

"Merci." Lucien nodded politely.

"So yeah, how did you end up in Oz of all places? What were you doin' back in France?"

"Well..." Lucien started. "I originally destined myself to the world of the stage."

"You were an actor?" Caroline asked excitedly.

"Almost," Lucien answered. "I was a singer."

"Ooh!" She exclaimed, even more enthusiastic.

"Back then, I was barely a man. But the war struck and as a young and capable man, I was drafted into the resisting forces of my country."

"Ah, sorry to hear that, son." Mike said. "I've had some mates go to fight and not return."

"I lost a lot of my brothers in arms too." Lucien said.

"But you survived, eh?"

"Oui, I did, and it was hard at first."

"Excuse me, I'll bring the salad." Caroline said.

"Hold on, Mum, I'll help." Mundy went with her.

"Y'know, Lucien, " Mike looked his guest in the eye. "I understand that. Used to have a mate who made it back but could never really live normally again."

"Indeed, it is typical among soldiers. But I didn't leave the army, I moved ranks and services."

"Oh, so you stayed there?"

"Oui, I did, all the way until my life flipped."

"Here we are with the salad!" Caroline entered. "Micky, put the chicken and potatoes on the side, thank you, sweetie."

Mundy did as he was told.

"Lucien, please?"

"Oh, but of course." Lucien passed his plate and Caroline served him. When all the plates were filled, she sat down and they all started digging in.

"Bon appétit." Lucien said. "And thank you very much for all of this effort."

"It's nothing, it feels nice to cook for Micky and his friend."

They all had a go at the salad.

"The lettuce's really fresh, Mum. Reminds me of the farm…" Mundy said with nostalgia.

"It comes from the garden, sweetie."

"Does it? Hold on, you have a garden?"

"Yeah, we do, son." Mike answered with a chuckle at Mundy's surprise. "Got a few things goin' on back there, you can have a look after dinner if you want."

"Sure!"

"Lucien, ya like gardenin'?" Mike asked.

"Oui, very much. I find that nurturing nature is fulfilling in an almost spiritual way."

"Well said, son, well said…" Mike nodded. "People now all want fancy jobs in cities, with fancy suits and ties - uh…" Mike stopped when he realised that Lucien was in fact wearing exactly that. "No offense, eh?" His eyes darted to his wife, a bit ashamed, and Caroline glared at him.

"None taken," Lucien answered with a smile. "I see perfectly what you mean."

"Yeah… Well they all want that and look at farmin' like it's dirty jobs. Let me tell you, it's honest work, honest pay, and you're helping yourself and the community… Makin' a positive difference, y'know what I mean?"

"But of course."

The concerto of cutlery on plates went on as they moved on to the main course. Caroline had prepared a roasted chicken with baked potatoes and roasted vegetables. Mike stood up to cut the chicken.

"Wanna do it, Micky?"

Mundy raised his eyes like a child. He was shocked by his father's question as much as he was honoured.

"Uh, I mean, really?"

"Yeah, you're a big boy now, c'mon, do it…!" Mike handed him the large knife.

"Right…" Mundy stood up and got busy with it, under his father's keen eyes. The Aussie looked at his mother with excited eyes for a second and she nodded, proud of him. His cheeks turned pink. "What bit d'you like, Lu'?"

"Lu?" Mike repeated and Mundy blushed beyond his ears.

"Y-yeah, it's uh…"

"It is a nickname." Lucien explained. "And of all the ways Mundy could have called me, he chose the name of a famous French biscuit brand." He chuckled and Caroline followed him in his laughter.

"Really?" She asked.

"Oui! They are everywhere in France and equally successful. So each time he calls me that way, I remember my childhood. But oui, Mundy, a bit of the breast please."

The Aussie obliged.

"Dad, still the thighs?"

Mike smiled.

"You remember?"

"Course I do." Mundy smiled and cut the chicken thigh. "Wings for Mum… And bits of the rest for me… There."

"Thanks, sweetie." Caroline got busy with the roasted vegetables. When she finished filling the plates and resumed her seat, the conversation started anew.

"So Micky told us you helped him…?" Mike started.

"In what aspect?" Lucien asked.

"With… That bloke."

"Oh," Lucien nodded. "Indeed, I did my best. I had some business to settle with him and Mundy has provided a critical helping hand." Lucien and Mundy exchanged a grin that was taken for a friendly smile.

"Why were you after'im?" Mike asked.

"Mike, that's personal…!" Caroline said.

"Non, please." Lucien answered. "It is all fine. I am happy to answer." He wiped the corners of his mouth and took a sip of the wine to clear his throat. "As Mundy may have told you, I lost my fiancée and son because of that man."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, son…" Mike answered, shaking his head.

"Merci. After that, I quit my job and rented a small flat in Paris. Similarly to Mundy, I couldn't bring myself to do anything, so I just waited to heal."

Caroline and Mike were listening carefully between the bites of food.

"How old was your son?" Caroline asked.

"Fifteen…"

"You had waited fifteen years with a kid to get married?" Mike asked.

"Mike…!" Caroline glared at him.

"What? I'm just askin'!"

"It is alright, Caroline, thank you." Lucien answered. "Oui indeed I did wait a long time. If I am truly honest, I should say that the news of my then partner being pregnant shocked me beyond belief. It made a man out of me instantly, if that makes sense."

"Oh yeah it does…" Mike answered. "Same when we got Micky."

"Suddenly you don't live as two free adults, but as the trunk of a family tree. You have to be sturdy enough to support everyone and you have the responsibility of the most fragile being in existence." Lucien added. Mundy noticed his dreamy eyes as he stared into Mike's eyes. It looked like Lucien was in fact looking in his own mind.

"Well said, son, well said."

"When Marie gave birth to Jérémy, she stopped working. I pursued my career, still climbing up in responsibility and honor until Jérémy was old enough to perhaps understand my position in the army. Unfortunately, I had to travel a lot and missed their company, and Jérémy's growth sorely."

"I'm sorry for you, son…"

"So am I." Lucien answered. "Marie hated my job and spent her time begging me to quit. She hated the risk that I put myself into everyday and she feared that if Jérémy learnt about it, he might want to join the army too."

Caroline nodded.

"I was on my last mission when the accident happened." Lucien frowned. "As Marie and Jérémy exited the house, in Boston, I was watching them from the window. It happened too fast but to me, it lasted ten years. They crossed the road when a 4-by-4 took a turn, drifted on the asphalt, and hit them. I saw Marie tackle Jérémy to try and put him to safety but she took the hit first. Both were then ejected away."

Lucien paused and put his fork down.

"I ran to them, barefoot in the street, as I saw their bodies fly; that of the woman of my life, and my son, my flesh and blood, my angel. When I reached them, Marie was still holding Jérémy in her soft limbs while his eyes were shut. The ambulance arrived and Marie smiled with a last tear before shutting her eyes."

All the forks had been put down and the silence weighed on everyone's shoulders. Lucien took a deep breath.

"After that, my story is both very similar and very different to Mundy's. I locked myself up both figuratively and concretely. I quitted my job and stayed in a small flat in Paris. Oddly enough, my isolation lasted as long as Mundy's, ten years."

Caroline and Mike's eyebrows jumped.

"We're really sorry for you, Lucien." Caroline said and Lucien raised his eyes to her, a distraught smile on his lips.

"Thank you." He nodded slightly, still quite moved.

"Go on, dear." She encouraged him. He took a deep breath and went on.

"One day, I came to learn that the man who took Marie and Jérémy away from me was here, in Australia. So I jumped in the first flight and landed here."

There was a moment of silence around the table before Mike dared speak.

"Micky said you also knew Maurice…?"

"Ah, oui, indeed I do. He is an old friend, from my military service days." Lucien answered.

"That's quite incredible!" Mike said. "I've known Maurice for decades now and I'd never have guessed he spent some time in France!"

The concerto of cutlery on plate resumed.

"Oh but he did. And having ears and eyes everywhere in the city, he helped me track down that man until I met with Mundy."

"How did you meet exactly?" Caroline asked.

"Well, I am not sure such a story is for feminine ears…"

"Aw, please! I killed this chicken myself!" She answered and Lucien's eyebrows jumped. He chuckled at the enthusiasm of the old lady.

"In that case," He cast a glance over Mike who seemed as eager to know as his wife. "I had in mind to be caught by his… Well… employees and find a way to make it to Duchemin directly."

"Dew what?" Mike asked.

"Duchemin, Arthur Duchemin was the name of that man who took everything from you and me." Lucien explained. "The first part of my plan worked beautifully and I found myself tied up to a chair by his goons."

"Oooh!" Caroline's eyes were shining in excitement.

"But I underestimated Duchemin and didn't realise he could have me killed then and there. I was blinded by my will for revenge and ignored the possibility that I could end up dead."

"So what did you do?" She asked, buzzing on her seat.

"Me? Nothing. But in an instant, the guards around me started falling one after the other. I did not understand what was happening but it caused enough of a distraction that I managed to free myself."

"Ooh, what happened?"

Lucien gave that lopsided grin that could make flowers bloom.

"Mundy tranquilised them all and saved me that day."

"W-well… I saw a bloke takin' a beatin while being tied up. And you weren't wearing their uniforms so… Heh…"

"Why were you there?" Mike asked.

"That hangar where Lu' was, that's where the alligators I was after were." Mundy answered. "There were two trucks. One empty, one with the 'gators. I got closer when I made sure all the guards were shot asleep. I opened the first truck, it was empty. When I opened the second one, I found the 'gators and Lu'."

They exchanged a conniving glance.

"Indeed, that is how we met." Lucien confirmed. "And we each considered the other like an enemy, or competition at least. In the end, we realised that we needed each other to do the job, so we teamed up."

Everyone grinned around the table.

"And so now you live together, eh?" Mike asked.

"Oui, we do. In fact, we work together too. Mundy helps with his many talents. I only take the responsibility of teaching children and teenagers."

"That's really nice of both of you." Caroline said.

"As Mike said," Lucien answered. "We try to work to make a positive difference around us."

"Yeah, honest work, and good souls." Mike said. "So you do the teachin'?"

"Oui."

"Ever done that before?"

"Oui, in the ex-colonies, a few decades ago."

"Whereabouts?"

"Northern Africa."

"Did you like it there?"

"Oui, I did. Beyond the sunny weather and warm temperatures, people's mindset and customs were and still are considerably different from ours. I learnt a lot from their simpler way of life."

"Sounds like you did an awful lot of things in your life, eh? Singer, soldier, teacher…?"

"Oui, and many others." Lucien nodded. "But please, enough about me…"

"Yeah, Mike, stop interrogating the guest…!" Caroline added. "Sorry, dear, we haven't had visits for quite a while."

"I'm just curious, Caroline!"

"Exactly!" She answered.

Mundy and Lucien chuckled at their banter.

"I am glad you survived." Lucien said as everyone was finishing their meals. "When Mundy told me the news, he was restless!"

Mundy blushed. He guessed Lucien wanted to insist on the impact that Mundy's parents' survival had on him. He smiled at his lover, hoping that Lucien would read "thank you" on his lips.

"Aw, Micky is such a sweetheart. You know Lucien, he might seem tall and strong, our boy, but he's very sensitive, very compassionate." Caroline said and held her son's hand.

"Oh, trust me, I know very well."

"Really?" Mike asked.

"Oui, he rescued a black cat and I saw the respect with which he treats him."

"Back in the days, we used to have a few dogs." Caroline explained. "They loved Micky and were so excited to be around him…!"

"I can very well see why."

"You rescued a kitty too, eh?" Mundy said to Lucien. "She's snow white, with long hair, she's gorgeous! He got her when she was a kitten and raised her. Mum, Dad, you should see them one day, the cats."

"Aw," Caroline grinned sweetly. "You can bring them next time."

"Sure. Oh and Lu' didn't tell you but he trained his cat to wait at crossroads!"

"Seriously?" Mike asked. "You can train a cat to do that?"

"Yeah, he did! And I trained Sooty boy to do the same."

"Sooty boy?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah, the black cat, he's called Soot, and the white princess is Pearl."

"Do they get along well?" Mike asked.

"More than well." Lucien answered with a smile.

"They got kittens together!" Mundy added.

"Oh bugger! That's great!" Mike said. "How many?"

And the discussion went on about the cats and the kittens.

"But what about you guys? What have you been up to?" Mundy asked.

"We got the garden goin' on at the back." Mike answered. "It's more than enough for us so we have the surplus sold. We go to the market on marketday and have a little stand there. We usually sell everything, not that it's much, but it helps pay the bills, eh?"

"Oh, that's great!" Mundy answered.

"All the veggies and potatoes you had today come from the garden." He added.

"The chicken too!" Caroline added. "By the way Micky, d'you want some more?"

"Nah, Mum, thanks, I'm full. But you have chickens? Like before?"

"Nah, not as many, just a few ones. But come on, Micky, just a bit more chicken…? A little bit…? You won't even feel it!"

"Mum, please, I wanna save some space for dessert…!"

"Fine, alright." She turned to Lucien. "And what about you, dear? You liked my roasted chicken, yeah?"

"It was exquisite, Caroline." Lucien answered. "But like Mundy, not tasting your dessert would be an insult to your culinary talents."

"Well that's some very nice way of putting it…!"

Caroline stood up and started to empty the table. Mundy helped her and in no time, Caroline was back with tea and dessert.

"And here we are…"

"Oh, Mum, is this your chocolate cake?" Mundy asked excitedly.

"Yes it is!"

"Yes!" Mundy exclaimed. "Mum, you have no idea how much I like that…!"

"Of course I do!" She answered. "Now, be a sweetheart and give everyone some tea while I cut the cake, yeah?"

"Sure."

Both got busy while Mike and Lucien leaned back on their chairs.

"So you guys continue farmin'? That's really good."

"Yeah, keeps us busy." Caroline added.

"And you, you ended up livin' together, eh?" Mike asked.

"Oui, after the events with Duchemin, we… lived separately for a year."

Mundy blushed beyond his ears. He was uncomfortable with the idea of lying to his parents. Hiding Lucien's true identity was a big enough lie but now, the Frenchman was also not talking about the period of time where he was supposedly dead. Mundy wished he could be brutally honest and just burst out with all the truth. But of course he couldn't. No, not now, and maybe not in a million years. Now was the time to get along with his parents again. He would think about telling them the truth about Lucien later… or maybe never. Gosh…

Everyone started with their dessert and Lucien couldn't hold back a smile seeing Mundy roll his eyes in bliss while eating his mother's cake.

"We were both coming back from the nerve-wrecking experience of dealing with that man." Lucien went on. "And after a year, our paths crossed again. Mundy was already working for Maurice and I was looking for something to keep my days busy, and provide Perle with everything that she needs."

"Back then, I was still living in my van with the cats."

"The cats?" Caroline asked. "You had other ones?"

Mundy blushed.

"Uh… I mean…"

"He was also feeding the strays." Lucien jumped in to his rescue. "A very compassionate soul he is, and the best of friends."

Again, the gaze that Lucien gave to Mundy, with heavy lidded-eyes, spoke much louder to the Aussie than to his parents. And then Mundy realised that if Lucien managed to remain unfazed it was because for him, it was routine, or it had been routine for decades, with him being a spy…

"Maurice's pay isn't much, but with the two of us, we can afford the bills." Mundy said. "And well, I knew Lu', he knew me so the housemate choice was quick and easy."

"Aw, that's very nice… I can't remember the last time Micky brought a friend home to be honest." Caroline said.

"And he chose one with great taste for his wines at least, eh?" Mike added with a smile.

"Many thanks, I am truly honoured to meet you." Lucien nodded his head like a bow.

The dinner went well and as the dessert plates were now all empty, the discussion naturally came to an end.

"Thank you again for your delicious dinner and for having me to share it." Lucien said at the door while Caroline gave him his jacket. "Oh, thank you."

"You're very welcome, boys." She tapped his arm and Lucien smiled. "You'll be safe on your way back, yeah?"

"Yeah, Mum, don't worry…" Mundy kissed his mother on her head.

"Right, right, be safe, boys, eh?" Mike added as hugs were exchanged and hands were shaken.

"We will, Mike." Lucien answered.

They made their way to the motorcycle and Lucien motioned Mundy to drive. The Aussie hopped on, and Lucien behind him.

"Come back and visit soon, Micky, eh?" Caroline asked.

"I will, Mum, don't worry."

Both slipped on their helmets and Mundy started the engine.

"See ya!" Mike and Caroline waved at Mundy and Lucien who flew away in the street.

"Aw, such good boys they are… And Lucien…! Very polite, eh?" Caroline said as Mike and her made it back home. They cleared up the rest of the table and chatted about their dinner again.

"Really seems like our boy Micky is a man now, eh? Only thing missin' is a good sheila and boom!" Mike said.

"Aw, yeah… Can you imagine? Micky with a girlfriend…?" Caroline answered.

"Can't really, he never brought anyone home before. It's the first time in… whew… Can you remember the last time he brought a friend home?" Mike brought more plates to the sink, where Caroline was washing the dishes. "Caroline?"

He found her staring emptily in front of her and frowning.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"There's something that doesn't add up…" She answered.

"What?"

"It's his jacket."

"Micky's?"

"Nah, his friend's…" She put a hand on her hip.

"What about it?"

"They said that they moved in together to afford the rent, right?"

"Yeah, and?"

"How come the brand of his jacket is Lemercier?"

"Le-what?" Mike asked.

"Lemercier, it's the expensive tailor in the old centre, he only does custom-made stuff…"

"Bah, he might've got that at work with Maurice." Mike answered. "Y'know how rich folks can throw anything in the bin, Caroline."

"Yeah…"

She resumed her washing of the dishes and Mike helped her. Their conversation fell silent, and as Mike glanced at his wife again, he saw that her brow was still furrowed.

"Not buyin' it?" He asked.

"No, I'm not. There's something that's missin', Mike."

"Ah, women…"

"Mike, I am being serious." She raised her eyes to her husband and pushed her glasses back with the back of her hand. "Lucien is polite, nice and all, but there is something we're missing."

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy #SBT

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

You Know You Love Me, Chapter 6 (Branjie) - Kiki

A/N: Chapter 6 is here! I really liked working on this chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it too, chapter 7 should be up at the weekend!

Summary: Brooke Lynn Hytes returns to New York City after being shipped off to boarding school and her ex best friend, Vanessa Mateo, isn’t too happy about it…which would be bad enough but add in the fact that they’re lowkey in love with each other. (Gossip Girl AU)

It was an unusually warm Monday in Autumn when Vanessa Mateo’s life was changed forever.

Brooke Lynn, Vanessa, Silky and Akeria were sitting in the cafeteria of their school. Of course, they were sitting at the centre table due to the fact that they were always the centre of attention. They were all eating salads (even though Vanessa hated salads) and they were all having a pretty normal day.

Brooke and Vanessa had spent the weekend together just hanging out and Vanessa realised how much she missed spending time with Silky and Akeria as well. She missed their shady comments and how they could make her laugh in any situation. She missed her girls and she knew they missed her too.

“Thanks for finally including Silky and I in your plans, ladies. Have you seen anyone else other than each other these last few days?” Akeria asked sarcastically as she raised her eyebrow at both Brooke and Vanessa. Akeria meant the comment purely as a joke because no one knew what was really going on between Vanessa and Brooke. But Vanessa immediately stopped the conversation in its tracks.

“Shut up, Akeria. Maybe if you guys were more interesting then I’d wanna spend time with you.” Vanessa said as she winked at Akeria to let her know she was joking. It was true that Vanessa had missed her best friends recently. But they didn’t need to know that. Everybody at the table laughed at Akeria and Vanessa slightly roasting each other and Vanessa was just happy to be with her friends, even if she was eating salad.

“Shit!” Brooke exclaimed as she looked at her open planner in front of her.

“What’s up?” Silky asked, trying to peek into her planner.

“I forgot about my history homework, it’s due in like thirty minutes.” Brooke explained.

“Of course you did.” Vanessa replied sarcastically, never surprised when Brooke’s mind forgets all about her academic work. Akeria and Silky laughed at Vanessa’s response as they were also not surprised. Vanessa was feeling smug as even though she had spent the entire weekend with Brooke, she had managed to get all of her homework done whereas Brooke hadn’t even touched her school supplies.

“I’m gonna go get it from my locker, you guys better be ready to help me write about the renaissance.” Brooke said seriously as she packed all of her stuff up and ran to her locker as quickly as she could. Vanessa rolled her eyes and Akeria opened her phone up ready to text the latest boy she was interested in.

Simultaneously, all of the cell phones in the cafeteria beeped with the same noise and that could mean only one thing: a Gossip Girl blast. Everyone had been on edge when she had posted that there was some big news coming and lots of people had been extremely worried that it would be something about them.

Vanessa ignored her phone as she did for most blasts. She didn’t care about Gossip Girl at all, it was always stupid rumours that either never turned out to be true or they were about people she didn’t care about. Sure, she made it onto the site quite often but not for anything bad. It was usually just people reporting where she was, who she was with and what she was doing. But this time, she wished she had opened her phone immediately so she could have made it out of the cafeteria faster.

Everyone at the school was glued to their phone screens, their mouths hanging open in shock. They were all looking at a close-up picture of Brooke Lynn and Vanessa kissing under a bridge in Central Park. And there wasn’t just one picture, there were four, all from different angles.

Vanessa could see that a lot of people were looking in their direction so she assumed the blast must be about either Silky or Akeria because they were also staring at their phones in shock.

“What’s going on?” Vanessa asked, stabbing her fork into a piece of lettuce and putting it into her mouth.

“What’s this, V?” Silky flipped her phone screen around so Vanessa could see and what she saw made her stomach flip.

“Oh my God…” Vanessa whispered in horror. She looked up at the people around them and realised that they were not staring in the direction of her table, they were staring directly at her.

She could feel her chest tighten and she was struggling to breathe. All she wanted to do was run but it was like her feet were glued to the floor and she couldn’t move. Her hands started to shake and her vision was going slightly blurry. She was having a panic attack.

Akeria reached her hand out and placed it on top of Vanessa’s and asked her something, but Vanessa couldn’t hear what she said. She just knew that she needed to get out of there immediately.

She pushed Akeria’s hand off of hers and grabbed her things and ran. She had never run out of a place like that before and she never wanted to experience it again. Everybody was staring at her and she felt ashamed of herself. The thought of people discussing her private life was making her feel worthless, like nobody had any respect for her.

She couldn’t believe that her secret was out and that she wasn’t the one who got to reveal it. She felt absolutely violated. She never wanted to return to school again. Akeria tried to get up and run after her but Silky stopped her saying that Vanessa probably wanted to be alone right now.

That was when Brooke returned back to their lunch table.

“What’s happening? Where did Vanessa go?” Silky and Akeria couldn’t do anything but stare at her with sympathy in their eyes.

—

Vanessa ran into her apartment with the same speed she had when she ran out of school. Tears were still streaming down her face and usually she would have been embarrassed at the thought of someone seeing her in that kind of state, but she had way bigger issues now.

She wished Brooke was there when it had happened. Maybe she would have been able to calm her down or they could have left together but in that moment, all eyes were on her and she couldn’t handle it.

She ran straight to the couch and collapsed on it which caused a very worried Dorota to come and sit beside her. Dorota hugged her while she cried and asked her what happened. Vanessa couldn’t physically get any words out so she just handed Dorota her phone and showed her the pictures.

“Oh, Miss Vanessa, I’m so sorry…” Dorota said sympathetically. She had always had her suspicions about Vanessa and Brooke’s relationship but of course she never assumed anything or brought it up with Vanessa. She knew better than that. It was much easier to get Vanessa to talk about something if she was the one to bring it up and Dorota had learned that a very long time ago since she had been looking after Vanessa since she was a child.

“Everybody knows, Dorota…I didn’t even get to come out how I wanted to.” Vanessa said in between sobs and Dorota’s heart ached in her chest for Vanessa. Dorota was worried about how this would impact Vanessa’s life in the future so she decided to reassure her.

“I will always love you and support you, Miss Vanessa, and I’m sure other people will too. It’s just a scandal, it will blow over soon.” Vanessa had stopped crying but her eyes were very red and swollen.

“You didn’t see how they looked at me, Dorota. I can never go back there again.” She replied with an extremely hoarse voice. At that moment, her mother walked into the room with her phone in her hand. She held the phone out in Vanessa and Dorota’s direction and the picture of Vanessa and Brooke was pulled up on the screen.

“Would you care to explain this please, Vanessa?,” Mrs Mateo asked directly, with her hand on her hip. Vanessa was yet again frozen in shock. She didn’t anticipate having to have this conversation with her mother so soon as she usually got home from work pretty late in the evening. She was hoping she had at least another couple of hours to mentally prepare for dealing with her mom but apparently not. “Come on, answer me!” Her mother asked, her voice getting louder as she spoke.

“Mrs Mateo, I don’t know if now is the best time—” Dorota began to try and get her to realise how upset and fragile Vanessa was in that moment but Mrs Mateo didn’t seem to care.

“Dorota, get out. This is between my daughter and I.” Mrs Mateo replied, pointing to the door that lead into the kitchen. Dorota got up and quickly walked out, but not before squeezing Vanessa’s hand and whispering that it would be okay.

“Mom, please don’t be mad…” Vanessa whispered, her voice was barely able to be heard by her mother.

“Please don’t be mad? I don’t know what to think. Why didn’t you tell me any of this? I don’t even recognise you anymore.”

“What do you mean you don’t recognise me? I’m the same person that I always was.” Vanessa replied, her voice also getting a lot louder now too.

“I’m not so sure about that.” Mrs Mateo replied quietly with a disappointed look on her face. She walked out of the room as quickly as she had come in and went into the elevator. Vanessa couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that her mom didn’t support her liking girls. She had always been afraid of it happening but deep down had always thought that her mom would support her no matter what…and that clearly was not the case now. She started to cry again, not able to stop the sobs from coming out.

The elevator doors opened again and Vanessa jumped to turn around and see who it was, hoping that her mom had changed her mind and had come to apologise. But it was Brooke Lynn.

“Hey…I just saw your mom leave, are you okay? What happened?” she immediately walks over to the couch and wrapped Vanessa up in her arms, her hand stroking her back in an attempt to soothe Vanessa as she cried.

“She hates me.” Vanessa stated and Brooke’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Mrs Mateo had seemed perfectly normal to Brooke when they ran into each other in the lobby of Vanessa’s building.

“What do you mean?” Brooke asked.

“She doesn’t support me at all. I don’t know what to do, Brooke…” Vanessa whispered the last part and immediately started sobbing again. Brooke could feel her shirt getting damp from Vanessa’s tears.

“I’m so sorry, Nessa…” Brooke whispered back, placing a light kiss to her forehead. She didn’t know what to do to support Vanessa other than be there for her and listen to her. She wished she could make it all better but she didn’t know how. Vanessa took a few large deep breaths in and out and pushed herself out of Brooke’s embrace.

“Can you go? I don’t wanna be around you right now.” Vanessa avoided looking into Brooke’s eyes as she spoke.

“What? Why?” Brooke asked in confusion, not knowing why Vanessa wanted her gone.

“Well, it was obviously Kameron who sent those pictures to Gossip Girl.” Vanessa stated.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking…” Brooke agreed. She had assured Vanessa that she didn’t think Kameron would do that to her and Vanessa had believed her. Of course she felt a little bit guilty about it but she hadn’t lied to Vanessa. She truly didn’t believe that they would ever be in this situation.

“This is your fault, Brooke…you’re the one who brought Kameron into my life.” Vanessa argued.

“Seriously? That’s not fair and you know it!” Brooke was surprised that Vanessa was trying to blame it all on her but she knew how emotionally fragile Vanessa must’ve been in that moment so she tried not to take it personally.

“So you’re not gonna leave?” Vanessa asked impatiently.

“No, I’m not gonna leave you right now.” Brooke replied, trying to at least be there for Vanessa in a friendly way.

“Then I’m gonna go. I need to go on a walk to calm down,” Vanessa grabbed her jacket and her purse and Brooke immediately started to do the same. “I need to go alone.”

“Oh…okay then, if that’s what you need then that’s fine.” Brooke replied, trying to give Vanessa what she needed. Vanessa nodded and strutted out of the room, leaving Brooke alone sitting on her couch in her apartment. Brooke didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Dorota came in to offer some well needed advice.

“Sorry Miss Brooke, I couldn’t help but hear everything.” Dorota smiled sheepishly and sat down opposite Brooke.

“It’s okay, Dorota, don’t worry about it.” Brooke smiled a small smile back to Vanessa’s housekeeper.

“You know, Miss Brooke, I have been looking after Miss Vanessa for a long time now. I know she didn’t mean what she said, didn’t mean to blame you, she’s just stressed and upset and needed to find someone to take it out on…usually it’s me.” Dorota said with a laugh at the end of her sentence.

“I know…I just want her to be okay.” Brooke said quietly.

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest, Miss Brooke? This “scandal” is affecting you too, you can talk to Vanessa later.” Dorota suggested and Brooke nodded in response.

“Yeah, okay, that’s a good idea. Just please call me as soon as she gets back, okay?” Brooke pleaded as she started to put her coat on.

“Of course, Miss Brooke. I’ll see you later.” Dorota assured her and Brooke walked out of the Mateo’s apartment and back to her own house where she crawled into bed and tried to fall asleep.

—

After trying to sleep and failing for three hours straight, Brooke decided she might as well go to the Mateo’s apartment and wait for Vanessa to return. Dorota still hadn’t called her so she assumed that Vanessa still hadn’t come back from her walk.

Brooke got a taxi to Vanessa’s apartment and got there relatively quickly. She paid the driver and raced up to Vanessa’s floor, hoping that maybe she would be there. She exited the elevator and found Mrs Mateo working on her laptop on the couch that she and Vanessa had been sitting on earlier.

“Mrs Mateo?” Brooke attempted to make her presence known. She didn’t want to interrupt Mrs Mateo but she also didn’t want her to think that someone was breaking into her home. Mrs Mateo turned around and had a warm smile on her face.

“Oh, hello, Brooke Lynn. Come sit down.” Mrs Mateo replied kindly and Brooke walked over slowly, sitting down awkwardly.

“Is Vanessa home?” Brooke asked immediately. She didn’t want to sit and catch up with Mrs Mateo right now, she wanted to make sure that Vanessa was okay and be there for her however she could. Mrs Mateo closed her laptop and put it on the coffee table in front of her.

“About that…so I’m sure Vanessa told you that I didn’t react to her news in the best way possible,” Mrs Mateo said with a guilty look on her face. Brooke nodded which prompted Mrs Mateo to continue. “Well, we had a long conversation about it and I apologised. Of course I support my daughter one hundred percent, she’s the thing I love most in this world. I was just brought back to when her father told me the news and didn’t react how I should have reacted, which was selfish of me. But we talked it out and everything is okay between us now.”

“That’s great, Mrs Mateo,” Brooke said cheerfully, happy that Vanessa had her mother’s support. “Is she upstairs? I really want to talk to her.”

“Here’s the thing, Brooke…all of this information being public knowledge is really new to Vanessa and she’s just not sure if she can handle it right now. She can’t take everyone judging her and talking about her life all the time. So she’s decided to take a little break from school and go to live with her father in Paris for a while. She left about half an hour ago,” Brooke felt her heart stop. Mrs Mateo immediately noticed Brooke’s reaction and felt awful for her. “Brooke, it’s only for a little while, I promise. I’ll want her back as soon as possible too.” Mrs Mateo tried to joke to lighten the mood but it didn’t work well.

“What airport is she at?” It was as if Brooke didn’t hear anything Mrs Mateo had said once she said that Vanessa was leaving. She didn’t need to. She already knew what she was going to do. She was going to go and stop Vanessa from leaving. Mrs Mateo told her what airport Vanessa was flying out of and also tried to tell her that she was wasting her time because Vanessa’s mind couldn’t be changed.

But Brooke didn’t care. She raced out of the door and immediately hailed a taxi. She was going to get her girl back.

—

Brooke’s taxi pulled up onto the runway at a small airport for private jets in New York. She sighed a massive sigh of relief when she noticed that Vanessa’s plane hadn’t taken off yet. There were people loading her luggage onto the plane and Vanessa was just getting out of the car, about to get on board.

“Vanessa!” Brooke called out as loudly as she could, wanting to be heard over the noise of the loud engines. Vanessa’s head snapped back to the direction of Brooke Lynn’s voice and Brooke could tell by her face that she was in complete shock that Brooke was there.

Vanessa walked over to where Brooke was standing. It was a cold night and she was huddled up in her big winter coat with a scarf and hat on as well. Her eyes were red and puffy and it was clear that she had been crying again.

“Who told you I was here?” Vanessa asked.

“Your mom…why are you leaving, V?” Vanessa could hear the sadness in Brooke’s voice and it made her heart ache, but she knew leaving was what she had to do.

“That’s a dumb question, Brooke. You know why I’m leaving,” Vanessa replied, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “You don’t understand what this feels like for me. It’s ruined me.”

“No…maybe I don’t understand what this feels like for you. But what I know is how you felt when I left without telling you,” Brooke took Vanessa’s hand in hers and Vanessa avoided eye contact with her. She knew that if she looked into Brooke’s eyes, she would be convinced to stay. “Vanessa, please…stay. Don’t let some stupid rumours make you run away like it did with me. Like it does with everyone in our world.”

“Everything’s horrible, Brooke. My whole life has fallen apart.” Vanessa mumbled while looking at the floor, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. Brooke took her hand and gently held Vanessa’s chin, moving it up so they were making eye contact.

“So rebuild it. You’re a Mateo, remember? People don’t tell you who you are, you tell them. Stay. I’ll be by your side the entire time. And if anyone tries to make you feel bad, they’ll have me to deal with.” Vanessa couldn’t hold her tears in any longer and Brooke wiped them away softly.

“I’m so embarrassed.” Vanessa stated, holding onto Brooke’s hand and shivering because of the cold.

“So what? Start over. It can be done. We can get through this together.”

“You promise?” Vanessa asked in a quiet tone of voice. Brooke Lynn nodded and wrapped her arms tight around Vanessa, letting Vanessa rest her head on her chest.

“I promise.” Brooke whispered in her ear. Brooke also had a few tears running down her face, mostly from relief due to the fact that she had convinced Vanessa to stay. They stayed hugging for a couple of minutes because Vanessa just wouldn’t let go. Eventually, she did and turned her attention to the people on the steps of the private jet waiting for her to get on.

“Stop, guys…I’m going home.” She yelled over to them, making Brooke grin with satisfaction. They got back into the taxi that had brought Brooke to the runway and went home. Brooke got her girl back.

—

One good scandal deserves another. Who’s going down next? Everybody, if V has anything to say about it. You know you love me. XOXO, Gossip Girl

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #gossip girl au #rich girl au #high school au #you know you love me #kiki #submission

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tastesoftamriel · 5 years

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Ooh! Speaking of obscure elves, what do you think sea elf cuisine would be like, and what do you think their most hated food would be? :0 I love your blog so much btw!! It's the only one I have notifications turned on for lol

Thanks so much for the support and sorry for the late reply! I'm no expert, but I've put together a little of what I know about the Maormer and their food for you!

Of all the non-Tamrielic races, the Maormer have left the most comprehensive records of their food, and in certain areas have even influenced local cuisine over centuries of invasions and settlements, especially throughout southern Tamriel. Our best source of Maormer cuisine comes from the little island of Kenarthi's Roost, off Elsweyr. For some time during the 2nd Era, the Maormer held an embassy there as the local government had made a treaty that extended protection to the island by the Maormer pirates. The embassy of course had its own kitchen, and today we can find copies of some of their cookbooks in the Imperial library or the College of Winterhold, as well as in several lucky personal libraries throughout Tamriel.

As you probably expected, Maormer cuisine is heavy on seafood of all sorts, but also sports a number of fresh tropical fruits and vegetables on the side that really bring out the flavours. Extremely fresh raw seafood (which they call sashimi) is extremely popular, and includes the finest delicate cuts of ocean fish, squid, and shellfish. My personal favourites are firmer fishes like quillback, tuna, and salmon, and I also enjoy sweet shrimp and scallops most! These dainty bites are also fantastic when quickly licked with a hot flame for a bit of char on the outside (magic skills are a must for this technique). Sashimi is best served on its own, but popular sauces include citrus-based dips with sesame oil and seeds, fish or prawn roe, and a bit of fresh chili. It's extremely refreshing! (You can see the recipe for my Maormer-inspired Sea Viper Poke Bowl here if you'd like to give Sea Elf cooking a go!)

For people who are a little more squeamish about eating raw seafood, there are plenty of tasty grilled options too. The Maormer taught the Khajiit to use coconut husks to grill their seafoods and meats, which give a fantastic smokey flavour quite unlike a traditional charcoal grill. Crab and lobster are favourites, but whole fish like snapper are also popular. These are served very simply, with a good sprinkle of sea salt and a squeeze of lime juice. While we're not sure if the Maormer grew rice on Pyandonea, they certainly consumed a fair bit of Tamrielic rice with their food when on the continent, and served steamed it alongside almost every meal.

Other notable foods are a sweet-and-salty seaweed salad made of several types of cured seaweeds, which make a great accompaniment to other foods or on its own. It is sometimes mixed with land vegetables like lettuce and rucola, avocado, and garnished with citrus and coconut, as well as tiny dried salted fish or shrimp like whitebait (which keeps very well for long voyages by ship). According to logs, they also brought along staples for their voyages like seafood sausages preserved in sea snake skins, cured or salted fish, tapioca, and lots of dried fruit like mangoes and banana chips.

And the Maormer are NUTS about coconut! Coconut water is probably their most consumed beverage, as fresh coconuts kept sealed on ship journeys keep very well and are also full of tasty juicy flesh which is eaten on its own or mixed into fruit salads with other tropical fruits like mangosteen, citrus fruits, sweet palm fruit, watermelon, and mangoes.

As for their most hated foods? I'm not entirely sure, but I have a feeling they wouldn't be too fond of the things landlubbers like me enjoy, especially foods that are overly processed. Chances are they aren't too fond of eating many land animals or their byproducts, as we don't see any records from their embassy for products like cheese or salt meat (especially beef or pork, which Tamrielic peoples generally consume lots of). They also don't seem to eat much in the way of bread either- whether that's because they don't grow wheat on Pyandonea or if they don't like it is up for speculation.

Overall the Maormer diet may possibly be healthier than any of the Tamrielic races, and it is a shame that they're horribly hostile and don't come to Tamriel as much as they used to, as I would love to learn more about their cuisine! ~Talviel

#worldbuilding #Maormer #Sea elves #Tes #The Elder Scrolls #Lore

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and-i-uh · 4 years

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6? 22? Any other number you wanted to answer?

6- i dont have any stim toys, ive never really delved into that stuff, i was never really given the chance to explore stuff that would help me out with stimming and such. I also dont think i would like stim toys? Maybe i just have to try some but idk.

22- idk any specific songs i stim to. But ive stimmed while listening to mcr, and honestly i just stim to alot of the general songs i listen to. I really like singing along, i think thats a stim of mine, and some songs just listening to them is like stimming (anything with drums and/or guitars)

2- i like blankets a lot. Even if im hot and dont really need one, ill subconsciously grab the blanket on the couch and put it on my lap, and on my bed. There was one day i grabbed a pocket-sized beanie baby and put itin my hoodie pocket, and just knowing it was there made me happy. Also when i was with my friends one of them stuck their hands in my pocket and i panicked and like moved it out of their reach bc i was scared to get made fun of lol, it ended up being fine. I sleep with stuffed animals a lot. I think thats it

3- my school experiences were,,, not fun at all. Theres a lot to unpack there. My schools all had this thing called a “504 plan” or whatever. And it’s supposed to help people with certain disorders/disabilities. Mine only acknowledged my adhd as far as i know. Maybe my anxiety too. Some of the things that were supposed to ‘help’ were moving me to the front of the room, i got extended time to complete stuff (supposedly), extended time on certain tests (which i only saw on the act, literally i got no other extended time to do anything else. And after i got extended time on the act my scores shot up. Imagine the potential if i was given my actual extended time shit) and the meetings were hell. They started to have meetings with me in middle school, sixth grade i think. Having an administrator there, and my parents, and at least one teacher was terrifying to me. I think i cried every meeting. Honestly it felt like an interrogation to me, esp with all the damn eye contact and shit. My dad asked me if i wanted to continue it this year and i was immediately like fuck no nuh uh not happening. And whether or not I actually needed to be in the front of the room depended on the class, teacher, the people in there, but a lot of the time i would just be moved to the front and i would hate it. In eighth grade my math teacher moved me from the back of the room (a favorite seat in that class) to the front of the room in the middle of class for like a week. It was honestly humiliating and the only time i was eventually able to express my opinion on the 504 shit. Actually my freshman math teacher did that too. Ahaha moving on now before this gets too long.

4/5- three negative and positive things about being autistic.

Pros-

(1) i dont really have a chance to not have a hobby. Ive always got an interest to keep me entertained and i like that.

(2) stimming is nice, i like it, im not afraid to let myself stim. Makes me feel better.

(3) im unique and shit. I have a different pov than other people and that allows me to have different ways of thinking. I think outside the box ig. I also have this weird version of confidence and objectivity that I appreciate in myself

Cons-

(1) its hard to feel like i belong somewhere, bc im so different. Im getting better at it but im not good at getting close to people.

(2) i also like,, dont have certain permanence? Like object permanence? A lot of the time i dont really miss things/people unless im somewhere that reminds me of them. Idk if it’s negative really but its something,, even a spin, like bts, i dont really miss them that much until i do. Theyre still very important to me but yeah

(3) people dont really get me the same way other people get other people. And its hard for me to explain it to people. And theres certain people i get more than others. Its weird.

7- people need to give autistics a chance to be heard. Apply the accommodations you “give” them. Dont put them in the spotlight and give them space when needed. We are what you might call “picky” too. Eating, learning, socializing, we have our own things we need to be able to do shit. Learn them. Let us stim. Encourage us to learn about ourselves and remind us that youre there for us. But dont try to help us unless we ask or we actually need help. Dont trigger meltdowns on purpose, stop using the r word even in passing like its not a big deal. Be more than aware of us, accept us, appreciate us. Dont be a bystander.

8- i dont have much experience with meltdowns? I think? If i have i didnt have chances to recover. I had to go back to class or something. Idk how to recognize them in me either.

10- showering. Thats a big thing that even though i kinda need i forget to do. Except during school. I had a whole routine in the morning and i was super punctual. If i didnt shower i would be late, miss the bus, forget something.

12- meat. The way it feels. Disgusting. How do people eat it and not feel like dying? Same with lettuce. Spinach is fine but every time i try to eat lettuce I almost throw up. Bell peppers, pickles, vinegar, mayo, eggs usually, cheese sometimes. Just off the top of my head. One time i tried putting lettuce on my burger, was feeling adventurous, and after biting down i had to just take the lettuce off. Another time, my stepmom (newly married to my dad) made slads for us, and i was skeptical. There was white stuff all over the salad and she wouldnt tell me what it was. I tried eating a little carrot stick thing and almost vomited. Thats when she learned I cannot eat mayo. Even if idk that its mayo i still cant fuckin eat it. She forced me to eat bell peppers one time. Didnt go well at all. At all.

(Not gonna do the spin one bc ive already talked about them and if i do again itll be too long)

15- yes! I only do big stuff(?)(like yelling n shit) when im completely alone. Like if im home alone. Bc i get so loud. Sometimes ill hum in my room or sing to myself in my room though. Its so fun. As for phrases i repeat, ill repeat anything i find interesting. In a movie or song, or even something a friend said. One time my mom said the phrase “tough titty said the kitty but the milks still good” and i went around the kitchen repeating it until she got annoyed. Also sometimes something in the room will have a constant sound and ill like think a phrase to that sound repeatedly. Idk how to explain it lol. Idk if thats echolalia either

16- rocks. Typical i know, collecting rocks. But i just cant help it. I see a rock i like, i pick it up, take it home. I used to collect sticks. And when i was in elementary school, i used to pick shit up off the playground. Beer bottle caps was a favorite. Apparently the school called my mom about it bc they found my stash and thought it was from home and my parents were drinking excessively. 😬 oops

18- introverted?

19- kinda depends. Idk. I really cant tell wow. I would probably say hypersensitive. Just cause i have a ton of sensory issues and a lot of stuff bothers me. Like types of clothes. And how things are resting on my body. Yeah i guess i am hypersensitive.

20- i used to struggle with self love a lot. And sometimes i still kinda do. But in the past few years ive really started appreciating myself and trying to learn a lot about myself. Its going well id say.

21- empathy. Hmm. I think im very empathetic, actually. I can always tell when someone is feeling uncomfortable in a situation. And when i should tell people to back off of them if they wont say it themselves. And im very uncomfortable when theres secondhand embarrassment. And bullying, in something im watching or reading. Yknow, I actually cant watch mean girls. I just. I tried, i had to walk away bc I couldn’t take it. It also kinda triggers me so theres that. Bc of the bullying. But yeah im very empathetic. Otherwise socially im not good at that.

23- nope. Ive got like no support system other than tumblr and online friends. Apparently my dad refused to acknowledge im autistic and hes my favorite parent. Thats his big flaw though. And if i “came out” to him and said it myself he would probably come around. I know hes not completely nt either. My Opa has ocd, so nuerodiversity runs in the family ig.

While making this i got distracted and went on insta for like an hour oops lol

24- steampunk cosplay? Or college dorm tips? The steampunk one was freshman year, and the college dorm one was fifth grade. It lasted well into sixth grade and seventh grade.

#actually autistic #autism #autism acceptance #special interest #ask #spin #spins #autistic

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midorikawa-lettuce · 4 years

Text

i have an incredibly detailed plot line in my head for a blueberry salad canon compliant slow burn w/ trans girl!masaya that follows all three of them separately just a while after the events of a la mode and it goes something like this

tw for internalized transphobia mention

Ichigo’s part: my life is perfect, i have a job, i’m doing well in school for once, the earth is at peace, i have great friends, i have a boyfriend i love to absolute pieces and i can’t wait for him to come back home from England and we talk every single night and i’m still in the honeymoon phase and i think i will be forever

but i have

a problem

and that problem is that Lettuce Midorikawa is suddenly the most beautiful girl i have ever seen in my life and i feel really flustered around her all of a sudden and i’m having some very confusing dreams??

i really still love masaya so much but i’m so confused

i’m also very repressed and have never considered once the possibility of being attracted to girls and it has taken me months to realize that i have a crush

can you love two people at the same time??

are having these confusing dreams cheating???????

Masaya’s part: getting to study abroad and get away from my parents for a while is so much more freeing than i thought it would be especially after finding out my whole life was a lie made as a front for an alien invasion; i’ve spent so much of my life Being Perfect so as not to be a burden/to be worthy of my adoptive parents but now after the Deep Blue bullshit I am just so happy to finally figure out who /I/ am and I’m so incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful supportive girlfriend who is literally the reason for my chance at living life as ME

except there are some confusing things happening all of a sudden that i don’t know how to deal with

living on my own has given me the chance to start to realize i think i’ve been repressing some things

one of my study abroad flatmates got me to wear a skirt for a stupid dare and it?? felt actually really good??

i think i bought another skirt

as soon as I am back in Japan it is back to Repression Hours!!!! No One Can Know I Have Feelings

if Ichigo finds out will she hate me??? oh shit. I don’t know who to talk to. I’m friends with the other girls but I don’t know who to talk to. If I talk to someone before I talk to Ichigo is that cheating on her??

Lettuce keeps ending up hanging out with us on dates and it kind of calms me down because it gives me a little bit of a buffer to figure out how or if i’m going to ever talk to Ichigo and maybe she won’t notice i’m acting weird if Lettuce is here too

hanging out with both of them is. really nice. actually.

Lettuce is so sweet maybe i could talk to her about it???

hang on wait

do i have feelings for lettuce

or do i just want to look like lettuce

oh god no do i actually love ichigo or do i just want to be her

do i love both of them??? can you love both of them??? i don’t know i have too many other worried feelings about how much I want to be a girl and to love them both as a girl and oh no something is so wrong with me

HUMAN FEELINGS ARE TERRIBLE SOMEONE TAKE THEM BACK PLEASE

Lettuce’s part: hi i’m just figuring out that i’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with both Ichigo and Masaya for a while now but they’re dating and they’re happy and there’s no way I can possibly come in between them or ruin their relationship and it’s not like I could date BOTH of them hahahahhaa i’ll just be the supportive friend and cheer on their relationship from afar!

except i think Ryo found out at least part of it

because he’s making some really not subtle hints at me

and he keeps putting me and Ichigo on shifts together

and when Masaya comes back for visits we all end up hanging out together and i think i just fall in more love and i don’t know why Ichigo keeps inviting me along on what I think are supposed to be dates?? Is their relationship okay??

and Masaya just sent me a panicked 2am text about how to tell Ichigo something important and he doesn’t know who else to talk to but he won’t tell me what it is

Pai is not helping me he just keeps telling me he doesn’t understand relationships much less human relationships except that his only rule is Don’t Talk To Kish About It

That is not a difficult rule to follow

MAYBE I SHOULD FIND A WAY TO DISAPPEAR FROM THEIR LIVES SO I DON’T RUIN THEIR PERFECT LOVE

and yea the other mews start to catch on and after some of their own soul-searching and figuring things out they just all start to get annoyed with the obliviousness but Ryo has to scold them because it’s not anyone’s place but the three of theirs to talk about things like this (he should know he has a huge gay repressed crush on Akasaka)

anyway eventually Ichigo and Masaya both sit down and have an awkward, interrupting and then apologizing for interrupting conversation about everything and at some point Lettuce gets involved again and they slowly start to navigate their new and confusing relationship and it gets fluffy after that because i’m a sap

anyway yeah. blueberry salad rights!

#blueberry salad #text #from the menu at cafe mew mew

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caiuscassiuss · 6 years

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Paradiso | Richkid! Jaehyun (M)

Description: Escaping to Italy and having a torrid fling to escape your pushy father sounded like a good idea, but the man you were screwing? Yeah, well, he was, erm... married.

Genre: Rich Kid/ Summer Vacation AU angst | fluff | humor WC: 15.3k Warnings: graphic smut (semi-public sex, dressed, hardcore dirty talk, unprotected ), profanity, cheating/ infidelity, mentions of mental illness

NCT Writer’s Prompt: You’re traveling around Italy this summer, hoping to escape from the ‘worthy men’ your father keeps setting you up with. It wasn’t your plan to fall in love with the rich, handsome bachelor that you met at the winery, that’s just a plus. (yeah yeah I know i’m tweaking it a bit)

(A/N: ⚠️ This story contains an extremely problematic scenario (i.e. infidelity). I do not condone the actions of the reader nor Jaehyun. ⚠️ Also, this fic contains real places that I may have written wrongly, as I haven’t visited Italy. It also contains the brand names that I do not own ⚠️)

“My daughter has been so excited to meet you! Weren’t you, dear?” you father smiles at you over his wire-rimmed glasses, a sharp edge to the curve of his lips and a cautionary glint in his eyes. The crunch of the iceberg lettuce in your mouth sounded a bit too loud as you finished chewing it. It went down your throat like a square through a circle slot, but you forced it down and beamed at the boy in front of you. His carefully unbuttoned Brioni silk button-up and the Hermés loafers on his feet were as pretentious as the boy himself, but adequately fit the sophistication of the private lunch club your father had invited him to. The Metropolitan Club sat high atop the skyline of New York, giving its well-heeled patrons an unmatched view of the Big Apple while discussing the returns of their blue-chip stocks. Munching on their light salads and seafood platters, chatter ran light and easy throughout the club full of glittering chandeliers and tasteful Louis XVI-themed decor. However, you couldn’t find it in yourself to admire the crystalware frosted with 16th-century French artwork when the company sitting in front of you was quite the contrary. His name, Nicholas Hadrian Alexander the III sounded just as inflated as his ego; his superiority complex trumped his pretty cheekbones, unfortunately. Nicholas smirked at you, giving his best attempt at bedroom eyes while twirling his fettuccine alfredo around his fork slowly. You personally felt second-hand embarrassment after he started biting his thin bottom lip. “Certainly, father. It’s so nice to meet you Nicholas,” you grinned, showing too many teeth. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N. You’re just as beautiful as your father says, even more so,” Nicholas replies slyly. Cringing, your fingers bunched up the soft fabric of your burnt-orange, hand-dyed silk dress. Booming laughter resounded to your left, and you observe Nicholas’ father, Thomas Alexander, clutching his chest in laughter across from you. “Oh, Sebastian, to be young again!” Thomas shared a conspiratorial glance with your father, who smiled wholeheartedly back. “I remember how I had to chase my wife across the damn globe before getting her to marry me. Those were the eighties, you know. My, we’re getting old, Thomas! Either way, my wife and I have been happily married ever since,” your father reminisced. “Indeed we are! I met my dear Claudia through a friend and all it took was one smile and I was long gone.” Thomas added, taking a bite of his lobster dish (He certainly could use a salad, however.) “Speaking of marriage: Nicholas, Thomas keeps telling me you haven’t found a nice girl to settle down with? For a proper lad like yourself, I’d imagine you’d have better things to do than endure the company of these old fogies.” you father chuckled at Nicholas, sipping his nice Château de St.Cosme Gigondas from his wine glass. Ah, so we have decided to stop pussyfooting around, you mused, stirring the straw around your raspberry lemonade. You had to admire your father’s skill in maneuvering conversation, steering the conversation to the port of his agenda. Unfortunately, his silver tongue was not ripping some poor man to shreds, but being used to affix you a new beau. Nicholas, in particular, was chosen because he stood to chair a private defense company once he came of age. If you married the poor sod, your father would be able to proudly boast a lucrative defense contract with the U.S. military supplying whatever hardware they needed. Well, marriage was never explicitly stated. You could easily read between the lines, however; it was hard not to when father dearest started dragging you along to countless places where some attractive young man happened to be. Whether it was at gala or park or luncheon like this one, your father just had to introduce you to a man that had greed in his eyes. As objectified as you felt, you knew that your father had your best interests at heart. Once, in a moment of uncharacteristic candor, he had told you that he wanted to see you well-taken care of after his death. He really had tried to give you the best he could with what he had; you had never needed in your short life. You were given the best of material luxuries, sent through finishing school, then to an Ivy League college for the best education. Your father wanted that to continue. Still, the lemonade went bitter down your throat. “Oh, no, it’s not like that, “ Nicholas blushed, and exaggeratedly did his best to look bashful. “I just haven’t found the right girl, you know? Too many in for it for the fame or money, but…” he conspicuously slid his eyes over to you. You’ve heard that one before. “Oh, my darling Y/N is the best one could find among our kind. She went to Harvard, you know…” you father rambled on. As he went on, the glazed looks of Nicholas and his father did not go amiss to your careful eye. You grimaced. They didn’t really care what you were, only who you were. They had already made up their minds and decided to cast their gauntlet for your hand, as medieval as it sounded. Lunch went by in the same fashion, filled with superficial conversation in between bites of lobster and salmon. Nicholas sent ridiculous overtures towards you, while Thomas and Sebastian did nothing but goad him on. You did your best to stay engaged in the conversation, even if you wanted nothing more than to dump wine over their suits and leave. You reluctantly exchanged numbers with Nicholas, and everyone mutually agreed it was the best time to depart. Nicholas tried his best to draw you into a hug when departing, but you carefully evaded his hands without seeming impolite. The frustrated set to his brows almost made you laugh. As your father and you clambered into his grey Jaguar (his day car) in the valet parking, you stayed silent and buckled your belt. “How was Nicholas? Wasn’t he nice?” your father asked while revving up the engine, a purr eliciting from the car as he did. “I hated him,” you pronounced succinctly, resting your cheek on your knuckles to look out the tinted window. “He… he couldn’t have been that bad, Y/N! He even said he liked history, and you like history, right?” “Father, I asked him about his thoughts about Machiavelli to which he replied “he liked that castle” and then proceeded to fling another ridiculous innuendo at me,” you dead-panned. “He was still very polite!” “And I still want to fling him over a cliff in San Sebastián.” “Damn it, Y/N!” His sudden increase in volume surprised you, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him clutching the steering wheel very hard. “I have introduced the best of the best to you, the cremé de la cremé of society, the premier men with the means to support you yet you still reject ever offer! Are you not grateful to me? Everything I have done is for you!” he frustratedly grit out, the creases on his forehead growing more pronounced in his anger. “Have you ever thought I am not interested in chaining myself to someone? Not interested to shackle me to men who are so pretentious and self-absorbed they see nothing but bags of money when they look at me? Because I am most certainly not!” you seethed, boiling in the pit of your frustration. “I want to see you treated like a queen, Y/N! Because when I am dead and gone, who will take care of you? You might have your fund and inheritance, but who can really take care of your wants and needs?” The unanswered question preceded into silence, which draped over the car like a heavy blanket, and the two of you sat in tense silence. “Dad, let me make a deal with you, in terms you understand,” you calmly asserted. “Let me take a break to somewhere, like Positano or Monte Carlo for a while, and I will be more open to the… options you have given me.” Your father stays pensive for a while, navigating through the streets of Manhattan. You have never seen him older than he seemed at the moment, stroking his clean-shaven face in deep thought. You knew he couldn’t reject this. What were a few hundred thousand dollars spent on vacation compared to an advantageous marriage? “I’ve taught you too well, huh?” he chuckles. “You sound like your old man. Very well. Take your break to where you want to go and I will cover all expenses, then come back here in 2 months.”

The mimosa you were sipping was very refreshing to your taste buds, and you applauded your friend, Sul He Ra, on her choice of beverage for the morning. Today, you were adrift on her private yacht off the Amalfi coast. Hearing you were in town, she had immediately dragged you from your hotel room in Le Sirenuse and onto the 3-story mega yacht her father bought for her (equipped with 3 staff and a swarthy, Greek captain). The morning sun beat against the decks of the luxurious wooden decks, the seagulls cawed and the waves beat gently against the side of the boat. The clear blue sky and the colorful facades of the buildings behind you set up a perfect backdrop for your late morning brunch, just like those postcards in tourist shops. You were shielded from the sun by your straw hat, and the sea breeze passed pleasantly through your tan linen dress. Hera, lounging on a leather couch across from you, wore a nice Calypso St. Barth jumpsuit and a black, wide-brimmed hat. A crew member set down a tea caddy of pastries, which you both thanked as she ran off towards the kitchen. “You saw my captain, right? Alessandro? Whew, what a man!” Hera fanned her face jokingly. “Why yes, I did. He was the one who led us onto the craft,” you uttered wryly. “Semantics, semantics,” Hera waved off. “Anyway, did you see those biceps?! What I would give to have a night in bed with him!” “Are you telling me Sul Hera did not immediately fuck him in his tight Navy uniform?” you sniggered. “I don’t think that would’ve been appropriate at the first introduction. My father was there, and I’m not really into that, you know?” The two of your burst out in laughter, holding onto the sides of the couch to stay upright. Hera’s scandalous escapades never failed to amuse you. “I felt like I haven’t seen you in ages, Y/N! Where have you been for the past year?” Hera cried in mock outrage, throwing up her hands in the air. You smiled. Hera has been one of your best friends since you met in finishing school, one of the few people you could stand in the midst of overly snobby young girls. She was apart of the London-Dubai-Shanghai set, making it hard to keep up with her jet-setting lifestyle, but you still were up to date with her. “Wouldn’t you know it, I’ve been holed up in New York and London for the past few months,” you replied dryly, taking a bite of the wonderful croissant laid out for you. “I thought you hated such boring cities?” she quoted you, raising an eyebrow. “I do,” you said tersely, tearing off a piece of the flaky, buttery pastry with your fingers “Well, why then?” You turned your head to face her, a noticeable scowl on your lips. “My father and his matchmaking scheme.” Hera winced and daintily sipped at her mimosa. While her mother and father were strict, they surprisingly gave her the choice to pick her partner. Perhaps there was the factor she had 2 older brothers and another sister to marry off, but it was still highly unusual. The Korean girls you knew from boarding school were married as soon as the ink dried on their diplomas. “Oh dear, we’re now that age, aren’t we? What has your father done now?” Hera asked, twirling an ink-black lock around her pointer finger. “I’m only 25! This isn’t the middle-ages, I’m not going to be on the shelf for christ’s sake! Over the past 8 months I have met at the very least 50 men, all hand-picked by my meddlesome father and politely pushed to tie the damn knot!” you ranted. Grabbing the stem of your mimosa flute, you downed it in a few angry gulps. “You sound like a damsel in distress,” Hera laughs. “Oh my god, what am I to do Hera? All these men— they’re fucking pigs, only worth a few million dollars,” you bemoaned. “The only reason why I’m here and not in Canary Wharf is that I made my father a deal. I now have 2 months to do whatever I want and as soon as you know it, I’ll be in a white veil.” Hera sighed sympathetically and bit into the oozing cinnamon bun in her well-manicured hands. She chewed pensively for a while, before swallowing and turning her coal-black gaze to you. “My advice for you: enjoy it. Get dicked down, get drunk, sow your wild oats before you’re pawned off.” She leaned forward, giving up her comfortable incline on the cushions. Hera fiddled with the strings on her jumpsuit in doubt. “I hesitate to offer this up, but when you get married, you could always, erm, have someone on the side...” “I... I don’t know. God knows that most of these men visit a brothel every other month, but could I?” you agonized. A contemplative silence spread between the two of you, only the sound of the bird rocking and seagulls cawing heard. “You know what? This is such a somber mood. Give me some gossip, Hera!” you demanded, perking up from your slumped posture. The bright girl perked up immediately at the thought of sharing juicy scandals. “Well, I heard that this bank manager’s wife found out he had 5 mistresses, all holed up in separate suites in the same complex…”

A yawn escaped your lips, and you opened your eyes to the pleasant view of the Italian countryside, going by in gentle, rolling hills dotted with trees and charming houses. How idyllic. You asked Hera to accompany you to Tuscany and go on a road trip through the region, giving you the chance to catch up for all the missed time. The girl happily agreed, citing that she was trying to escape her ex-hookup from London (some Japanese bloke named Yuta? Kuta?) and had all the time in the world to travel around with you. Plans were made, a train ride was taken, and the two of you arrived in Florence. However, when you said “road trip”, you thought it was just going to be the two of you in a Range Rover or something. Hera, however, arranged for a driver and a silver Mercedes G-Wagen to be idling in the pick-up lane outside the terminal. You shook your head, mouth curving up in a slight smile. That girl… Despite the misconception, the two of you traveled in peace. Hera insisted you have the classic tourist experience of taking various wine tours throughout the region, bringing you to her favorite places. While you were only half-interested in the wine, you gleefully took pictures of the historic structures these wineries and vineyards were housed in. As you traveled south, you visited Albola Castle and the Fattoria di Montemaggio, sipping fine vintages of wine in between lavish lunches of traditional Italian cuisine. It was an enjoyable existence, but you couldn’t help but feel restless. Like, you could be doing something somewhere but what was something and where was somewhere? “Ma’am, we’re soon approaching,” the driver spoke up. Hera, her head slumped on the car window, jolted up from her light nap. Her eyes adjusted to the sun coming in through the windshield, and she yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Thank you, Sungmin,” she replied. “So where did you say we were going, Hera?” you asked. “Brolio Castle, which houses the Barone Riscoli winery. You know, it’s the oldest winery in Italy!” “Really?” you gasped. “Really! It was founded a thousand years ago. They created the Chianti Classico wine— hold on, doesn’t your dad like that wine? I think my dad gifted him some during a club outing last year,” Hera mused. “I should get him a bottle. Something to placate him before he sees his credit card bill go through the roof,” you smirked. “Hell yeah!” Hera cheered and high-fived you. As the car traveled along the rocky pavement, you stared outside to see the extensive vineyards and the jutting ramparts of the historic property. Your mouth slightly gaped at the grandeur and beauty of the red-orange castle surrounded by carefully-manicured trees and shrubbery. You couldn’t imagine how it felt like to see this in the first century as a mere peasant, something so impossibly beautiful yet still entirely real. The pair of you hopped out of the car as the driver parked it, stretching out your stiff muscles from the extended car ride. She led you imperiously to the check-in desk and stopped to talk to a young Italian woman with her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. “Sul and Y/L/N,” Hera said. The receptionist nodded and looked down at her desktop, clicking, and typing to search for your reservation. “I booked the private tour for us,” Hera whispered conspiratorially in your ear, and you nodded in approval. “Ah, yes. Booked for the Privilege Tour at one o’clock,” the young woman said in a slight accent. She handed you two wristbands and checked her desktop, frowning as she looked at the screen. “Ladies, I’m afraid you have may have another group joining you in your tour. Their guide sommelier has had to cancel last minute and your guide is the only available one to conduct the Privilege tour. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” the receptionist said somberly. “No, no, it’s alright! The more the merrier, right Y/N?” Hera grinned at you. “Of course, of course! It’d be lovely for us two lonely ladies,” you reassured and Hera laughed. You could see the Italian lady breath out a nearly invisible sigh of relief, glad that the rich-looking ladies weren’t going to put up a fuss at their private tour being intruded upon. She led the pair of you to a slightly balding middle-aged man, wearing a slick black vest and black bowtie while perusing over some pamphlets. “Signore, Miss Sul and Miss Y/L/N will be apart of the tour you will be conducting today,” the receptionist hurriedly said and bustled off to assist with other guests. “Ah, welcome to ‘ze Barone Ricasoli! I am Matteo Giordano, ze guide cum sommelier for you today! Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said jovially, tortoiseshell glasses slightly slipping off the bridge of his nose. “Buongiorno, signore! We’re very excited to taste some great wines today,” Hera greeted. “Not to forget exploring the castle grounds,” you interjected. Mister Giordano looked delighted. “You will see plenty of both today! As you might’ve read, we will…” The two of you chatted for a few moments, immersed in conversation. When you were about to inquire about the residents of the castle, the sommelier looked over your shoulder at something. “Ah! I think ‘zat is the rest of our merry band, no?” Mister Giordano grinned. Hera turned faster than you to greet the incoming guests, but as soon as she did her eyes widened comically. “Jung Jaehyun?” she gasped. You turned your body to see an incoming group of 3 people walking towards you, but the man at the front made your heart rate quicken. He was the classical definition of tall, dark, and handsome; your ideal type. Brown, mussed up hair framed features that were as fine-boned as a model on a Vogue editorial, all sharp angles and symmetry. Clad in a navy Brunello Cucinelli sports coat that fit nicely along his broad shoulders and hinted at defined musculature, the man’s long legs strode leisurely towards your frozen self. Slowing down, the man’s brows furrowed in confusion while staring at Hera. “Sul Hera?” She gasped and opened her arms for a hug, which he bent down and returned politely. God, you hoped he wasn’t one of her former lovers. “Oh my, it’s so weird I ran into you here! How are you, how are your parents?” Hera gushed. “Very well, business is doing pretty well these days. My parents? They’re still alive,” he smirked, and goosebumps rose on your arms. Hera laughed, the delightful soprano ringing along the stone walls of the castle. Jaehyun smiled and turned his attention towards you, his black eyes piercing. “And who is this gorgeous lady next to you?” Jaehyun asked, staring into your eyes. It made you want to wilt, but you straightened up, reminded yourself no handsome man was going to ruin you, and returned the favor. “Goodness, where are my manners? Jaehyun, this is Y/N Y/L/N; she’s been one of my best friends since finishing school! Y/N, this is Jaehyun; his parents know mine pretty well back in Korea.” Hera gestured towards you, her Cartier tennis bracelet twinkling in the dim light. Oh, thank the lord Jaehyun wasn’t one of her hook-ups. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jaehyun,” you shyly smiled. “The pleasure is all mine, Y/N,” he grins at you. He steps slightly out of the way, and you finally take notice of the two men behind him. They were both very handsome in dapper clothing, but they went unnoticed because, well, Jaehyun was kind of a visual wall. “This is Johnathan Suh the II,” he points at a man with black hair in a yellow polo shirt. “He goes by Johnny, and he’s from the US.” Jaehyun points at another man in a dark green sports jacket, sporting blond hair and looked really lean. “This is Dong Sicheng, he goes by Winwin. His dad is a party member in China.” Winwin smiled cutely and waved at you. “Nice to meet all of you!” Hera chirps. Mister Giordano took this as a cue to step in and start the tour. “Well, zat is everybody, so welcome to the Privilege Tour of Barone Ricasoli, the oldest winery in Italy! Established in 1141…” As he led you through the various corridors of the castle and talking about its history, you found yourself at the back of the group with none other than Jung Jaehyun. Giordano stopped and went into a storeroom to retrieve something, and Hera struck up a pleasant conversation with Johnny and WinWin, who were standing slightly behind her. The silence between Jaehyun and you were slowly beginning to turn awkward, and you fidgeted with the clasp of your straw bag. “So, what made you and Hera come here to Tuscany?” Jaehyun asked, breaking the silence. “Oh! Uh, I’m here for the next 2 months so I decided to go on a road trip with Hera in the Italian countryside,” you beamed up at him. “Road trip? Did Hera include a driver and at least 3 suitcases?” he queried humorously, lips lifting up in a smile. You chuckled. “Yeah! Right on the spot. I swear, that girl…” you stared at Hera with affection. “You’ve been friends with Hera since finishing school? You seem to know her very well,” Jaehyun queried, stuffing his hands into his pockets. You nodded fondly. “Yup. She was one of the only people I actually liked in school at the time and we’ve been good friends ever since.” Jaehyun’s reply was interrupted as Mister Giordano came back, 4 white parasols in hand. “You might’ve known zat we were going to go to through ze gardens today! The Mediterranean sun, however, does not stop for anyone so I procured some parasols for all of you!” He beamed. You all thanked the man, and as soon as you reached to get one, Jaehyun gently grabbed it from the sommelier’s hand before you could take it. “Erm, Jaehyun? May I share with you?” you asked timidly. He chuckled a low tenor that sounded like melted Marchesi chocolate to your ears. “Of course.” He offered an arm which you gingerly took, and the two of you strode into the bright sunlight. The two of you pleasantly chatted through the tour of the beautiful gardens, the private chapel, and the small museum, mind only half-focused on the expensive tour you signed up for. You found out Jaehyun was here for a friend’s birthday yesterday in Florence but decided to take a little detour through the countryside with friends. He was surprisingly knowledgeable about a number of things, discussing various subjects like art or literature to your surprised self. Jaehyun himself was the VP of the North American branch of his family’s prestigious clinics. You mentioned you had graduated with your Master’s from Harvard (“Really? That’s amazing!”) and was currently working as a private manager for a bank, right now on extended vacation. Briefly, the topic of your father’s meddling came to light, but you quickly averted the subject in front of the handsome man. After going through very fine vintages of wine in the Ricasoli Armory, the group of you got up and parted ways with the jovial sommelier, walking back to your cars. You quickly took a trip to the store and shipped 3 bottles of Chianti Classico to your father, adding a small note on stationery. Johnny did the same thing, claiming his mother wanted some for a party she was throwing. Jaehyun hovered near you, perusing the various trinkets advertising the Barone Ricasoli. The men graciously offered to walk the pair of you back to your car, a warm atmosphere hovering around all of you. Before you got back into the car, everyone exchanged numbers and promised to keep in contact while in Italy. Jaehyun’s fingers brushed briefly on your’s while handing your phone back, lingering there a bit too long to be polite. You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you slipped your phone back into your handbag. “Ciao! I better not see any of you doing donuts on some country road!” Hera waved at the group. They laughed and walked off towards a Bugatti and a McLaren parked in the shade a few meters from where you were, nudging each other back. You and Hera clambered back into the G-Wagen, sighing as the leather welcomed your tired limbs into its arms. “You seemed to hit off with Jaehyun pretty well,” Hera mentioned casually. Her eyes told a different story, probing your gaze. “Erm, yeah. He was nice,” you stiffly said. “Y/N, I’ve got to be honest with you, but Jaehyun is married.” “He’s married?” the color drained from your face. “Yeah, to a Chinese girl. You might know her. Carolina Xue?” “Her? He never mentioned it...” you asked in shock. Carolina Xue was one of the brattiest girls you knew from finishing school in Switzerland. Braggadocious and condescending, she constantly paraded the fact her family was listed in the top 50 on the Hurun Wealth Report for China every year as if the girls around her didn’t have equally impressive credentials. She sauntered about every class as if she owned the damned school. A classic fuerdai of the worst kind. “What do you expect? If I was a guy I wouldn’t mention I was married around the likes of you.” Hera laughed. “But poor Jaehyun! Carolina was such a bitch throughout school! I felt so bad for him when the engagement was announced.” “Yeah, very sad,” you murmured absentmindedly, feeling as if the floor was swept from beneath you.

You hoped the wine made it in time to your father’s office because boy, he going to have a heart attack when he saw your credit card bills. No offense, but Milan wasn’t particularly special when compared to Firenze or Rome. The only thing they had going for them was Duomo and Fashion Week, to be perfectly honest. And the quadrilatero della moda. Hera chartered 3 Range Rovers and 5 security personnel for this little shopping trip. Passerby were treated to the truly unique sight of burly men in black suits and earpieces hurrying along the avenue, gigantic bags of top-name brands somehow kept aloft in their hands as sweat dripped down from their buzzcuts. The lead security guard, Davio, mentioned to you that the first and second Range Rover was already full and had to be driven back to the hotel. Hera pouted and shoved 5 more bags from Roger Vivier at him. At the moment, the two of you descended upon Alexander McQueen’s boutique on the Via Pietro Verri, one of the few stores that did not close down for you. However, they did treat you very warmly, serving champagne and some cake while you were perusing their wares. You stared at yourself in the mirror of awfully cramped fitting apartment they had set up for you (you knew should’ve just gone to Valentino!). The black lace minidress hung on your body in all the right ways, clinging your body like a glove. The top half was lingerie-inspired, a black bustier confection compromised of strategically placed flowers and made your breasts look really good. Backless, it cinched at your waist with silk bows and flowed out into the regular A-line design, stopping mid-thigh. Alexander pulled through with this dress, though you would’ve really liked a plush chair instead of some modern stone block in the fitting apartment. “It looks very good, Signora Y/L/N! Very sensual! The men will be falling to your feet if you wear this in public!” the private attendant assigned to you, specifically, flattered from beside the mirror. “Thank you,” you smiled warmly. Nice as the compliment was, the attendant was only looking for a commission, so you needed a true opinion. “Hera?” you called out. No one answered, and you looked behind you to see your finely-dressed friend was not there. You strode across the small room in your black heels you chose from the store and swept back the curtains separating this room from the rest of the store. However, when downstairs into the main level, you did not see your Korean friend scrutinizing the things on sale, but someone else. “Jung Jaehyun?” you blurted out. The man in question, now dressed in a black Tom Ford sports coat, whipped his head up from the ties he was perusing. “Y-Y/N?” For a moment, you could only stare at each other in shock. He, in his dashing attire and a slightly unbuttoned shirt that looked so right, was extra yum today. But damn, he was a married man. You felt naked as his eyes roamed over your body, spending a little time resting at your chest. You felt the blood rush up to your cheeks as he snapped out of his appraisal. Words tumbled out of your mouth. “It’s nice to see you here, Jaehyun! What a pleasant surprise.” Christ, you hoped you didn’t sound too eager. “I-It’s nice to see you too, Y/N. Yes, what an interesting coincidence,” he finally regained the use of his usual suave, deep voice. The two you exchanged hugs and kisses, the Continental style that had been drilled into you since the days of school in Switzerland. The slight smell of bay rum and musk with a hint of Spanish marjoram wafted towards your nose, and god, you just wanted to melt into him. “Y/N I have found the most darling mini shirt-dress— Jaehyun?!” Hera gasped as she walked in from the other showroom. Jaehyun looked up from your face and smiled at the incoming girl. “Figures, if I saw the lovely Y/N here I’d see the likes of you here too.” Hera rolled her eyes and gave him a polite hug. “Oh stop, you rascal. What are you doing here in Milan? We just saw you a couple days in Chianti!” Jaehyun laughed. “I had to take a quick trip to Capri, but I’m actually here for a party at the Palazzo Serbelloni tomorrow night. You know Ten Leechaiyapornkul? He’s holding his photography exhibit there with a few friends of his.” Ten was a good friend of yours from Harvard; he was part of the international expat group you usually hung out with. From what you could remember, he was a talented man with a great sense of humor. “Ten? Son of that famous folk singer? I think I know of him,” Hera mused, mindlessly tapping the supple leather of her Givenchy Antigona. “Yeah, him. He and I were playmates were kids before I went to Cambridge and he went to Harvard,” Jaehyun mentioned, stuffing his hands in pockets. You sent him a surprised look. “How funny! Ten was a good friend from college. He was in the graduating class before me, but we generally hung out with the same group in Harvard,” you revealed. The lace dress you were wearing was completely forgotten. “Oh, right! You did say you went to Harvard,” Jaehyun snapped his fingers. “Say, why don’t you two come to the party tomorrow? I bet Ten would be ecstatic to see his old college bud at his exhibition.” “We would love to! But we wouldn’t want to be a nuisance or anything…” you trailed off. Jaehyun waved you off. “There’s going to be a few hundred guests there, who’s going to care if there are two more? Just give me the word and I can ask Ten to put you on the guest list.” You smiled. “Lovely! Please give Ten my regards, then.” “I’ll text you the time.” He looked at his gold-plated Piguet on his wrist and frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you ladies from your excursion, so I’ll leave you to it.” “Annyeong, Jaehyun! We’ll see you there!” Hera cutely waved. He nodded back and hurried out the glass stores of the boutique. Your friend turned back towards you and inspected the black lace dress on your body. She hummed in approval. “Oooh, yes. I approve. You look hot.” “I like it too. I’ll buy it then,” you acquiesced, waving over the gleeful-looking attendant to get the check. As you changed in the fitting room and went up to the desk, Hera seemed troubled by something. She did buy her shirt dress, along with a few belts and heels, but she frowned as she handed her card in. “Is something wrong Hera?” You asked, buttoning the clasp your Hermes wallet. She bit her lip. “Y/N… I don’t like the way Jaehyun looked at you.” You stared at her in surprise. “What?” you furrowed your brows. She finally turned her attention towards you and lowered her voice. “He stared at you like he would like nothing more than to rip your dress off your body, Y/N.” You scoffed, secretly pleased and apprehensive at the same time. “So? Not to brag, but I’ve had to field more than a few bedroom eyes in my day.” Hera sighed then signed her signature on the receipt with a flourish. “I’m warning you, Y/N. Jaehyun has always had a penchant for the things he can’t have, and I don’t want you to get hurt. He’s a married man!”

The sunset on the horizon as you sped towards the illustrious Palazzo Serbelloni in a metallic gray Jaguar. “Hey, Y/N, did I overline my lips too much? I don’t want to look like a Beverly Hills Housewife,” Hera fretted, looking at her reflection in a compact Lancome mirror. “Hera, you look fine. And you? A housewife? Never,” you snorted, fingering the crystals on your Valentino dress. You had chosen to wear a sleeveless. beautifully-embellished gown to fit the black-tie dress code for the exhibition. Sheer and sunset-golden, it hugged to your body like a glove and the deep v-line exposed your cleavage. You bought it immediately when you saw how beautifully the hand-sewn crystals would glitter in whatever light it was placed in. The bright lights emanating from the vast windows of the palace Napoleon had inhabited attracted your eyes and you looked through the windshield to see the hulking, neoclassical landmark the exhibition was being held in. Supercar after supercar lined the streets leading up to the event, so impressive even you couldn’t resist letting out a gasp. Men strode suavely down the pavement and groups of sparkling women tottered their way on the uneven cobblestone. The paparazzi made its presence known by the blinding flashes of cameras in the darkening streets, careful not to get too close lest they be sued. “We can get out ourselves. We wouldn’t want to trouble you,” Hera spoke to the driver. He nodded stoically and turned his attention forward. A doorman stood imperiously at the brass gate in a pinstripe suit, wire glasses sitting on the tip of his nose as he browsed his tablet. “Good evening, ladies Names?” he said in a British accent. “Y/N Y/L/N and Hera Sul,” you said. He scrolled through the bright screen of his tablet. “Ah! Welcome to this evening’s photography exhibit. I hope you have a night filled with entertainment and amusement,” he nodded. Hera dimpled at the older man, thanking him. As the pair of you ducked into the brass gate, you could hear the sounds of a few girls begging the older man for entry into the exclusive event. “Oh, dear. The nerve of these people. Didn’t they ever learn it’s simply not polite to gatecrash?” Hera tutted and shook her head back and forth, curled hair swinging from side to side. A laugh escaped your mouth as you entered into the central courtyard, decorated to resemble a 1920’s garden party. A helper handed out a pamphlet to you as you perused your surroundings with glee. Tasteful organza streamers hung from the many arches and there were beautiful fountains placed in the middle, seemingly brought in from a museum for this function. “Y/N, Ten did a great job!” Hera exclaimed. “Do you see how he hid those spotlights behind the tropical ferns? You would not believe how many parties I’ve been to and almost been blinded by those damn lights…” You nodded along with her reminiscing, flipping through the glossy pages of the pamphlet detailing the art exhibit. “Glad to know you liked the decorations. Goodness knows most people are here for the party rather than the exhibit, so might as well make it nice,” a tenor came from behind you. “Ten!” you gasped in delight. He beamed, dressed in a dapper Thom Browne suit jacket and black turtleneck, as he nursed a flute of bubbly champagne in his left hand. You quickly reached over the hug the slender man, flinging your arms around him. “Why did I have to hear from Jung Jaehyun sending me a text that you were in Italy? I would’ve hand-delivered the invitation myself had I known you were in Milan!” he laughed, kissing you on both cheeks. “Tennie, it’s so nice to see you! I didn’t really tell anyone I was coming to Italy except Hera here—” you flapped a jewel-encrusted hand towards her general vicinity “ — so that’s why.” “Escaping your father’s cupid service?” he raised a well-groomed eyebrow. Your eyebrows creased. How did he know about that? “Darling, everybody and their mothers know your dad’s search for a husband for his one and only daughter. The dogs have been practically salivating.” Ten rolled his eyes. You rubbed your temples and let out a sigh. “My god, I’m practically a high-class hooker.” “Ten, I hope you're not contracting her services!” Johnny’s familiar voice rang out jokingly as he navigated his way through the hoards of people, easily visible because of his tall height. However, your breath caught as you spotted the man next to him. Jaehyun smirked as he caught onto your gaze, his eyes staring directly into your wide ones as he followed Johnny. Impeccably dressed in his Stefano Ricci suit, he looked like a male model going down the catwalk. Ten’s eyes scanned the interaction briefly and imperceptibly frowned before turning his attention towards the black-haired American man. “Honey.” Ten eyes seemed to soften as Johnny lent down to give Ten a quick peck to the cheek and stole the champagne flute out of the photographer’s hand. You broke your staring contest with Jaehyun as you looked on in surprise at the display of affection. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship, Ten!” you marveled while Ten and Johnny stared into each other’s eyes lovingly. “Yeah, I kind of like this big idiot,” Ten said as he tried to swipe his champagne flute back from Johnny. The American, with his superior height, simply held the glass higher and downed it. The height difference was so cute. “Hello, Y/N,” Jaehyun murmured. “Oh, forgive me for being rude! It’s nice to see you here,” you said as you exchanged hugs and kisses with Jaehyun. His hands slightly touched the sheer fabric at your waist as he hugged you which made your nipples stiffen. He stilled smelled delicious. “Thank you for being our little liaison, Jaehyun,” Hera piped up from the side as she scanned over the hors-d'oeuvres the waiters were scurrying around with. “It’s my pleasure.” Jaehyun waved one of them over, an aproned young teen balancing a plate of champagne flutes. He grabbed the flute of one before turning to you and Hera. “Would you ladies like one?” Hera declined, citing she wasn’t in the mood, while you accepted. Jaehyun handed one over to you with his left hand, right hand unnecessarily grasping your wrist to ensure the transfer of the liquid would be stable. Not to be cliche, but his touch truly felt like electric sparks on your skin, arching up your arm and into your extremities. The conversation lulled as Ten, Johnny, and Hera inconspicuously observed your flustered reaction. “I’ll see you guys later. Please enjoy the exhibition!” Ten called out as he swept away, Johnny following closely on his heels. Hera flipped to the pamphlet and stopped at a particular page. “Now, I think we should—” “Hera!” a voice called out from the entrance. She reacted more quickly to this man’s voice than to a sale at Bergdorf Goodman, eyes widening in plain horror as she spotted a tall man with good-looking features making a path towards her. “Holy fucking fuck, Yuta! I gotta go!” she whispered frantically as she shoved her pamphlet at you and sped off into the Palazzo as quickly as she could in sky-high Louboutins. Yuta (or at least the man you presumed to be) barrelled rudely past you and Jaehyun, only apologizing hurriedly as he walked as fast as he could politely could. Yuta accidentally shouldered you in his pursuit of Hera, and you stumbled back, heel catching on to a crack in the stones of the ground. “Woah there, might’ve crashed into the topiaries,” Jaehyun laughed as he steadied you. You blushed at the close proximity. “Didn’t you know? Lounging in the topiaries is the new trend this season. Health benefits and all that,” you said smoothly, trying to get your mind away from his lips. As always, sarcasm was your weapon of choice. “I also heard thanking your savior from social embarrassment was in season too,” Jaehyun quipped, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, Lord Jaehyun!” you exaggeratedly put a hand to your heart. “I am forever indebted to you, my liege,” you said sarcastically. “Banish the debt by taking a walk with me, my lady,” Jaehyun smoothly slipped in, a wry grin playing on his lips. He extended a hand towards yours. What a smooth motherfucker. Jaehyun led you through the grand exhibits of Ten’s skillful photography, featuring barren landscapes and nude people. From you could recall, the theme of the exhibit was “Bare”. Jaehyun was a gracious host, skillfully keeping up conversation with you as you scrutinized the beauty of the photos. You have met men like him, suave and charming and thought that they were all that, but it somehow works on Jaehyun. That somehow the aura of arrogance and charm fitted him as well as his suits did. You would’ve done well to remember Jaehyun was a married man, a man shackled to that Chinese bitch from boarding school, but it was hard to even think near him. After looking at the photographs of nude men with Jaehyun’s eyes boring into the back of your head, you started to walk out of the neoclassical hall, relieved to get away from such close quarters. As soon as your hand reached out for the golden doorknob, the smell of bay rum and Spanish marjoram pulled you into another hallway. Jaehyun dashed through the velvet ropes cordoning off the hallway, you protesting the rest of the way. He pulled you through yet another set of beautifully-engraved doors and shut them with a resounding bang. “Jaehyun? Where are we? Why are we here?” you asked, alarmed. Jaehyun was silent as a grave as he stared at you from his position near the door, eyes contemplative and dark. “Jaehyun?” He stalked towards you like a big cat who had found its prey, figurative claws out and fangs bared. “Do you know how much I want to rip that dress off your body?” he finally responded, roughly. “Erm… Jaehyun, perhaps this isn’t—” You didn’t think that pricey finishing school in Switzerland quite prepared you for this situation. Damn Mrs. Accola and her leg-crossing techniques because she did most certainly did not prepare you in the event a married man was trying to seduce you. “This damn dress and that one from the McQueen boutique on the Via Pietro Verri; as gorgeous as you look in it, I want to see it on the floor,” Jaehyun softly starts out, voice growing rougher and deeper as he progresses towards you. He corners you into the back of a plush couch, and as you frantically look around you can see you are in a library. Jaehyun is now only a few inches away from you now, so close you can smell his minty breath. You are damn near leaning back into the back of the couch, the hard ridge digging into your back. He raises a hand and strokes your jaw, noticing your hitched breathing. He lets his other hand wander to your waist, his thumb rubbing the spot were the embroidery fails to cover your skin. “Jaehyun, you’re a married man—” “Does it really matter when we kindle to each other’s touch?” he whispers provocatively into your ear. “But it’s so unfaithful—” “Y/N, sweetheart, think about it: we’re both here to escape something. Me from my bitchy wife and you from your pesky admirers. Why not just indulge in one sweet release?” His lips drag across your bared neck when he speaks, puffs of hot air and presses of lips dancing along your skin. It played hell on your nerves. “Agree to me, sweetheart, and you won’t regret it. I promise.” Maybe it was the alcohol in your veins, the proximity of Jaehyun, or maybe your frustration over your suitors, but you did the most foolish thing you’ve ever done. Sense and rationality be damned. You agreed. You feel his lips curl up against your collarbone, and his fingers quickly hiked up your bedazzled dress to your stomach. “Wow, this wet already? See, I was right,” Jaehyun smugly smiled as his index finger stroked your clit. “For as much as I affect you, you affect me.” He guided your hand to his slacks, his erection pushing against the soft fabric violently. Your hand wanders to his belt buckle, and your fingers fumble with it to loosen it. It unbuckles and swings from his pants, as you brush your hand up against his briefs. “This is too slow,” Jaehyun grunts, roughly bending you over the back of the couch. He pulls down your near-ruined Guia La Bruna panties and takes a moment to take in your exposed core, bared only to him. “Fuck, you’re prettier than I imagined.” His penis rubbed slightly against your labia, and you almost buckled from his immense teasing. Seeing the fine tremors in your legs, he chuckled softly and slowly inserted the head of his cock in. “Jaehyun, please!” you cried out, clutching the throw pillows of the couch. His cock twitched against the walls of your vagina as he brutally slammed inside without warning, filling you up contentedly. Jaehyun picked up the pace, his hips slamming a rough and quick tempo better than any vibrator you’ve had. “Fucking slut, you wanted this cock, didn’t you? The minute you saw me at that winery you wanted my dick.” “Yes!” you groan, tears forming at the edges of your eyes. “I jacked off to the image of you in just those damn heels you wore in the McQueen, you know that? You, bent over, just in those damned heels as I fucked you over and over until you were a mess.” You thanked whatever god that was out there that the room was empty and no one was near you, because the intensity of your pleasured moans was loud. Your back arched as you pushed your ass up to meet Jaehyun’s wild bucking of his hips, a lewd slap slap slap meeting both of your ears. You bit your lip hard as your gripped the throw pillows brutally, sure that nail marks were going to dig into the fine material. His thrusts finally hit that spot, and white-hot pleasure almost rocked you to your knees as you had the best orgasm of your life. “Please tell me you’re on birth control, sweetheart, please, I want to come into you,” Jaehyun begs. You can hear him gritting his teeth, and you are 500 percent sure the gripping of your walls has him more shaken than he divulged. “Mmm, yes,” you groan. “SHIT!” Jaehyun’s pace stuttered as he rocked erratically into your pussy, balls quivering with his powerful ejaculation. His cum comes out in spurts or long, drawn-out ropes that fill you pleasantly with a sort of fuzzy warmth. “Yes, take it all,” Jaehyun mumbles, rocking his hips into yours. The two of you catch your breath, aftershocks of your fierce orgasms clenching at your extremities. He pulls himself out from you, and a stream of cum travels down your leg. Jaehyun somehow finds a tissue in the palazzo library and he wipes down your swollen core carefully. You settle the folds of your dress down properly as he adjusts his trousers and crooked collar. “I wonder what Serbelloni would’ve thought if he knew we were using his precious library for coitus,” Jaehyun laughs. Your breath caught in your throat. You just shagged a married man. A married man. A man with a ring on his finger and a marriage certificate on file, a man who vowed to stay loyal to his wife through the best and the worst. You just had amazing, mind-blowing sex with the only man you couldn’t have it with. God, you were such a whore. “This… This can’t happen again, Jaehyun. This is a one-time thing. No more,” you fretted, pacing around the rich carpet of the Palazzo Serbelloni library. Jaehyun stares at you from his perch atop the writing desk with his arms crossed, his eyes glinting. “Of course. The first and last.”

The first it most certainly was, but the last, it was most certainly not. “Oh fuck!” Jaehyun panted as he slammed into your hips one last time. His sweaty chest collapsed onto the white duvet next to your naked body, tired from the exertion. Being holed up in a ritzy resort on Ischia was in your traveling plans, but the man in your bed was an unknown variable. He had chased you all the way from Milan, intent on cornering you on your solo island-hopping trip and having his way with you. This was his 3rd time catching up. You stare vacantly at the tan bed-hangings on the ceiling, deep in thought. You were basking in the afterglow of the various orgasms Jaehyun had skillfully coaxed out of you, but the true implications of your actions hit you. A married man. Jaehyun, sensing you had gone still, turned his head to you and nuzzled into your neck. “Why are you so sad, sweetheart? Do you need me to go down you one more time?” he playfully asked, nipping at your collarbone. You squirmed away from him and sat up. “This is wrong, Jaehyun. Wrong.” “Wrong?” he lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t kid me, sweetheart. This is the fourth time this has been “wrong”. Weren’t you the one screaming my name when I—” “Jaehyun!” you exclaimed, lifting the duvet to cover your naked chest. “I’m just speaking the truth,” he acquiesced, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled at you gently, trying to lure you back to bed. You eventually surrender to his ceaseless towing, falling back into his broad chest. “You know, when my father asked me to look for the right man to marry I don’t it was you he had in mind,” you mused, twiddling with his mussed brown locks. “I’m generally not,” Jaehyun snorted. “What do you mean?” you asked. He let out a breath and wrapped his arms around your waist tighter. “My...wife,” he pronounced the name with utter disgust “ --was caught having sex with my married older cousin. It was a pretty big deal at the time because Sejun was expecting his second child.” Jaehyun nuzzled his lips into your messy hair. “In order to cover up the big scandal, my kind family decided to marry the bitch off to me. The unsuspecting nephew,” he laughed bitterly “--who also looked alike to Sejun. My family is the kind who would sell their souls to protect their reputation, damned be the individual who gets in their way.” “I… I didn’t know,” you breathed out, knowing your father would’ve cut off his manufacturing deal with his family once he got whiff of the scandal. “Well, now you do.” Jaehyun started petting your hair. “Carolina Xue is the worst wife a man could have. My cousin was lucky she didn’t start leeching off of him once she got pregnant.” “I always knew Carolina Xue was a whore. She seemed to be destined as one, even in school,” you laughed. “Did you know she refuses to believe she is bipolar?” You looked back at him in surprise, the late afternoon sun setting on the horizon. It glinted off his hair like an angel. “Her parents refuse to acknowledge their dearest daughter has a mental disorder. Carolina nor her parents think it is real and even think less about getting it treated. I have tried in this fucking marriage to give her some help, given her some of the best doctors from the world, but Carolina believes it’s all a one big fucking joke.”

He gave a great sigh. “I wouldn’t mind if she tried to help herself. Tried to make this marriage work. But no, I have had to deal with her unrestrained mania and drastic mood changes; she constantly screams I don’t give her enough attention, or that I’m too restrictive, or that I’m too this or that—”

You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, silently conveying you accepted him for what he was.

“--Do you remember that time when Anum streaked across the Radcliffe lawn? Her parents got so mad, they were about to move her back to Dubai for good!” Ten and you roared with laughter, tears of joy teeming at your eyelids. Reminiscing with Ten was always a joy. You finally caught up with each other in a hole-in-the-wall cafe on the beachside in Naples, drinking a cup of coffee in the late morning along with finger foods. The seaside wind blew against your tresses and the cute cotton dress you bought at a vintage store, the laughter and chatter of beachgoers emanating from all around you. Ten, clad in a St. Laurent Hawaiian shirt, claimed his exhibition was a good success, and some famous contemporary art exhibits were clamoring to show his photography. Taeyong, his good painter friend, even connected him to some good art dealers to sell his photography. You briefly recalled news of a brief hiatus (GO READ MUSE) Taeyong was taking, but moved your mind to other matters. You sipped at your lukewarm frappuccino, while Ten stirred his coffee thoughtfully. A crease appeared at his eyebrows. “Ten? Something wrong?” He was silent for a moment, before putting his spoon down and looking at you directly. “I need you to completely honest with me, Y/N. Like, crystal clear,” he said somberly. You frowned, anticipation beating at your heart, but you nodded along. “Are you having an affair with Jung Jaehyun?” The aftertaste of the coffee felt bitter in your mouth as you processed his words. Your mouth couldn’t formulate any words to respond. “Y/N.” Ten said seriously. “ ...yes,” you whispered, unable to meet his eye. Silence turned the atmosphere around you into something uncomfortable, the aftermath of such a truth being exposed. You finally had the courage to look back at his face, expecting to see shock or disappointment or perhaps even anger, but all you saw was pity reflected in his black eyes. “Oh, Y/N. Even under all your bluster and maturity, you’re still the wide-eyed girl from college I know.” “How did you know, Ten? If this gets out—” “Don’t worry about it getting out, Y/N. We’re discreet and no one has picked it up on it,” Ten interrupted. He reached to grab a scone from the tea caddy and set it on his plate. “Johnny noticed Jaehyun was disappearing for extended amounts of time, and coming back tanned and way too smug to be innocent. The plane tickets he had were coincidental to places you were island-hopping.” “Oh,” you whispered. “Also, at the exhibition: the looks you two sent each other were way too heated to be of friendly nature. I saw it when he first walked in with Johnny,” He bit into the scone and chewed, before continuing. “The two of you disappeared for an amount of time, so that’s when you screwed, yes?” That… that was our first time,” you mumbled. Ten blinked in surprise, before collecting himself. “Oh? I thought it had been going on for longer. The two of you have terrific chemistry, I guess.” “We met at a winery in Chianti. Wine country in Tuscany. Then we ran into each other in an Alexander McQueen boutique in Milan, and you know the rest,” you admitted tersely. Silence settled over the atmosphere, and you two took your tea quietly. “Look, I’m not going to tell you to break it off or advise you to continue but heed this: be careful, Y/N. I’m not saying this to warn you about the consequences it might bring into your world, but the consequences you might inflict on your own heart.”

Jaehyun was sleeping comfortably next to you in a villa, chest heaving up and down with his heavy breaths. Butt-naked, both of you, and sleeping off some great orgasms. At this point, you couldn’t even try to resist Jaehyun and his panty-dropping smirk. All he had to do was send you a text that he would be at your villa door in Capri at 9, and you just unlocked the door for him. He seduced you with the berries and chocolates provided on the table and romped in bed for a few hours. It was nearing 7:30, and the golden sunset over the azure waters of the Mediterranean sea. The villa you had checked into was settled high up into the cliffs of the beautiful island, in relative isolation from the crowds of noisy tourists that took up the main streets, Capri was somewhere your parents occasionally went to, claiming that the views were nice but the atmosphere was too crowded. You have seen it hailed as the playground for the rich and the famous, it had become way too infested to be anywhere near remotely peaceful. It was risky coming back here, considering the number of people you knew were coming to vacation on the coast, but you couldn’t resist stopping at Capri one last time before you got married off. A glinting object caught your eye from the marble vanity table and you sit up, careful not to wake Jaehyun. You squinted closer, and you realized it was a ring. A Harry Winston, platinum wedding band sat innocently on the marble table top. It was really beautiful from afar, flawless with no imperfections. Yet, it reminded you of everything you couldn’t have. Jung Jaehyun was a married man. You have repeated this in your head hundreds of times, thousands of times, yet none of them were fully realized until you saw his wedding band on a counter. You knew that when you both woke up and left, he was going to put that ring back on his left hand and flaunt it. You knew he was going to fly back home and kiss Carolina Xue with the lips he used to eat you out. And most importantly, you knew he was never going to be completely yours to keep. A terrible aching of your heart gripped at your chest, and it physically felt like your heartstrings were being shredded apart. You gathered up the sheets and wrapped them around yourself haphazardly, more like a sleeveless cocoon than a toga. You carefully stepped out of the bed and onto the Thessalian marble tiles, and onto the balcony. The sun would blind you if you stared at it too long, so you averted your eyes to the glorious gradient of red, orange and yellow as it painted the sky. The cliffs were shadowy, dark masses against the setting sun, and the water glittered like diamonds as it reflected the sunset. So caught up were you in the magnificence of the sunset, you missed Jaehyun padding towards your figure. His hard chest enveloped your bare shoulders, and he stood behind you clad in only a bed sheet wrapped around his waist. “Hello,” he rumbled, swooping down to press a kiss to your shoulders. His voice was still rough from his nap. “Mmm,” you greet. The pair of you stared at the beautiful scenery. Jaehyun rubbed circles into your forearms, soothing and repetitive. “Have you ever thought about leaving her?” you ask suddenly. Jaehyun’s petting stops abruptly, and you hear him stiffen. “Sweetheart, you can’t ask me to do that,” Jaehyun replies beseechingly. “But why?” you turn back towards him, looking up at his chiseled jawline and pink lips. He stares unflappably forward, not even looking towards you. “Babe, there’s too many factors to consider. I can’t just… walk away. My family would immolate me.” “Ah,” you reply shortly, crushing disappointment washing over you like a tidal wave.

The helpers had just left, and now you were trying to desperately stuff heavy jewelry boxes into your suitcases. You had trusted the hotel’s staff to pack up some of the less valuable clothing into 5 suitcases, and now you were on your own trying to fit most of your purchases into unforgiving luggage. “Oooohhh! This is pretty! Where did you get this?” Hera coos as she holds up a fine silk dress. You invited Hera to your hotel, the Hotel Eden in Rome, to help you pack for your trip home but she was less than helpful than you originally thought. “I got it from a vintage store, some resort collection from Altuzarra in the 90’s,” you huff, trying to fit all your shoe boxes in a steel grey luggage. “You have to tell me where it’s from! I’ve got to go there cop some pieces,” Hera mentions as she looks at the mirror with the dress on her front. You look up at her in irritation. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me, Hera? You would’ve made a terrible maid— ” “Sorry, sorry,” she surrenders, carefully putting the dress back in its linen bag. “Besides, what’s the rush? You seem like you wanna get away from Italy as soon as possible.” “It’s nothing. I just… missed London, I guess,” you lie, zipping your 7th suitcase with a flourish. “Missed London?! Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You went on this vacation to escape London, and now you’re leaving 2 weeks early?! What’s going on?” Hera frustratedly gestured. You remained silent, carefully stuffing your handbags into another suitcase. Uncharacteristic, but you refused to air out your dirty laundry. “Y/N!” You pretended she just did not yell at you and continued your packing process on your hands and knees. This could not get out. “I guess I’ll have to figure this out myself then!” she huffs. Your breathing hitched. “You want to leave Italy early and go back to London as fast as you can, so something tells me that you want to escape from something here that is decidedly far worse than your suitors,” Hera muses, tapping a lilac-painted fingernail on her chin. “The only reason that would be worse than your suitors is another person, because what could be wrong with Italy? Virtually nothing. And you, wanting to escape from the flurry of social functions and lunch meetings, have been spending some much needed time alone. So, that leaves a select group of people you might’ve wanted to run away from.” Your fingers trembled as you fidgeted with a key charm, heart pounding in an anxious rhythm. Hera was getting uncomfortably close to your reason to leave, and you wanted nothing more than to leap off the balcony window. “Okay, so let’s list out a group of people. Hm, Winwin? No, he left for Shanghai right after the winery tour, so he’s out. Ten? Mmm no, you’re pretty good friends and I saw your Insta story with him yesterday. Besides, he’s also in a stable relationship with Johnny and something tells me you wouldn’t want to ruin his relationship so Ten and Johnny are out,” Hera thought aloud, nails drumming on the laquered wooden table. “A bodyguard? No, haven’t seen you try to flirt. Some Italian model? Nah, that would’ve been all over the news…” You sigh in relief, Hera getting colder from the truth. “But what about… Jaehyun?” You freeze, the Ferragamo dust bag dropping from your hands. “Jaehyun… I saw how he looked at you. I know what he saw. And Jaehyun… he was always absent from parties the days you were on a solo-trips… Oh my god, why didn’t I see this before?!” Tears are collecting at your lash line, and your lips are pressed in a hard line in an effort to keep yours from bursting out sobbing. Your head hurt, your eyes hurt, and most importantly, so did your heart. “Jaehyun… you hooked up at Ten’s gallery. You continued hooking up when you went island-hopping! That’s why you looked so content on your snapchat!” Hera gasped. “Y/N, tell me this: did you or did you not have an affair with a married man?!” Clothes and shoes and handbags forgotten you pressed the heel of palm to your eyes. Soft sobs escaped from your mouth as you hid your face from Hera. Your silence was enough of an answer for Hera. “Oh, no, darling...” She stepped forward hesitantly like she was approaching a feral animal. “I… oh my god, why him?” Drawn out sobbing filled the hotel suite, as you collapsed on the carpeted floor. The burning feeling of shame, the voices in your head telling you were naive and a homewrecker. But the guilt; oh, it was the worst part of it. You felt it weighing down your shoulder like an anchor and making your head hurt and eyes spin. The voices were screaming, telling you that you were a whore and nothing more. “You… you could’ve picked anyone but him. Oh, Y/N, I see it now. I should’ve protected you, dammit!” Hera pounded her fist on the wall, a loud bang resounding throughout the suite. “Don’t you see, Y/N? You’re too naive for this! And now your heart is broken and you’re being sent back to be married to an arrogant son of a bitch!” Words tumbled out of your mouth like a held-back tsunami, and you told Hera everything. From the night of the gallery to the days spent on the coast, and to the things Jaehyun said to you. Everything. Hera, during this word vomit, kneeled down to you and took your hands in hers. There was a full minute of silence, in which neither of you said anything. “Jaehyun… that son of a bitch. He’s a coward, Y/N, and it’s not that you don’t deserve him; no, it is he that does not deserve you,” Hera finally spat, her grip on your hands tightening. “The next time I see him, I’m going to give him a piece of my fucking mind—” “Don’t, Hera,” you interrupt. “Even if I want to fling him off the Empire State building, I still love him. I want him to be as happy as he can, especially being married to a bitch like Carolina, and I am fine with being the second best. Leave it be, Hera, because I already have.” She looked at you sympathetically. She knew the feeling, being in love and never being able to let go. “Even with your heart broken, only you can still manage to be so kind,” Hera sniffs. “Come, Y/N; let’s pack faster so you can catch your flight and never see the likes of that man again.”

Jaehyun lounged on the balcony of his townhouse in Venice, observing the gondolas passing by on the murky water beneath him. It was mid-morning, so the usual hustle and bustle of the historic city were gradually increasing. He took a sip of wine gifted to him by his coworker, but a frown settled on his lips as he did. His co-worker needed to be fired on his wine-giving skills. He poured the glass out on a potted plant, not caring about poisoning it. He folded the European financial newspaper in his hands and adjusted the Gucci sunglasses on his nose. Jung Jaehyun was bored. And he missed Y/N. He could rectify that. He pulled out his phone and dialed Y/N up, putting it on speaker phone. A momentary flash of guilt ran through Jaehyun when he did, reminding him of what an utter arse he was being by effectively using her. But she was so irresistible, dammit. “Hello?” her sweet voice sounded after the third ring, reminding him of the times they spent in bed talking about the most random of subjects. Her voice was like the tune he heard when his mother sang him to sleep, reminiscent of singers at sleepy coffee shoppes in the Queens. “Y/N, where are you? I want to meet up.” “Hm? I’m leaving,” she responded, sounding harried and short. “Italy? That’s early, I thought you were staying for at least 2 more weeks. Anyway, where do you want to meet up next time?” Jaehyun asked, nonplussed. He put his feet up on the railing and looked at his empty wine-glass. Should he open the one he got from Sicheng now? “Jaehyun, I don’t think you quite get it. I’m leaving you.” Before Jaehyun could even think to respond, the line went dead. Wine forgotten, Jaehyun stared at his phone screen, frozen. “What the fuck?” he uttered aloud. He frantically tapped on your contact once more, intent on asking what the fuck you meant by those cryptic words, but it went to voicemail. He dialed 3 more times, each time still unsuccessful. His heart pounded a tattoo on his chest as he ran through his hair. What did she mean, leaving him? Like, leaving… permanently? Jaehyun called the only person he knew that would have the proper answers. “Ten,” Jaehyun spoke shortly. “Do you know where Y/N is?” “Hm? Why don’t you tell me, Jaehyun? You seem to know that more than anyone,” Ten languidly spoke, sarcasm dripping from his lips. “Ten, I don’t have the patience for this! For fuck's sake, tell me where Y/N is!” Jaehyun seethed. The newspaper crumpled in his hands. “Well, tell me why and I might,” Ten said sing-songy. “I… I wanted to ask her about that ancient book she found,” Jaehyun stuttered. Ten barked out a laugh. “Don’t fuck with me, Jung Jaehyun. I’ve known you since we were in nappies. Also, I know that you’ve been fucking her on the side so tell me the real reason you want to know because if she wanted you to know, you would,” Ten said sharply. “Oh,” Jaehyun said, properly beaten into silence. How did Ten find out? “Well, Jaehyun?” “She...she just told me: “Jaehyun, I don’t think you quite get. I’m leaving you.” and I don’t understand!” Jaehyun exploded, running his hands through his hair once more. “...huh. She’s left earlier than I expected but go her,” Ten mused. “Ten!” “Fine, fine. You want to know where she is? Figure out why. When she said “I’m leaving you”-I hope your Oxford-educated brain can figure what the fuck that meant,” Ten revealed. “Y/N… Y/N can’t leave. It’s probably just a break—” “You and I know that’s not true. Jaehyun, she is leaving you. That means no more secret rendezvous or steamy tête-à-tête’s, no more nights spent in bed or times talking about life.” “How do you know about that?!” Jaehyun breathed out. “That’s not the answer you should be asking, Jae. It’s why,” Ten stressed calmly. “Stop playing your fucking mind games with me!” A loud thump resounded across the line. “Alright, I won’t. I won’t play the games you played with Y/N. Can’t you figure out why, Jaehyun? She’s had enough of the games you’ve played with her and she felt hurt enough to come to me for help,” Ten said chillingly. “We both knew what we were getting into!” Jaehyun defended. “Quite right, Jae. I agree: you are both to blame for your actions. But Y/N? She’s the type to fall in too deep. She is one of the most naive girls in our world, and if you knew her at all, you would see that. What you may have seen as a fun little romp on the side, Y/N took it seriously,” Ten spoke cuttingly. “Like it or not, you broke her heart Jaehyun. She knew this was going to be a fun, illicit affair, but she fell in too deep, so she logically decided to extract herself from it. If you’re just wanting a little action from the side, I don’t see why you’re so concerned about this.” “So this is what I’m going to tell you: if you are not playing for keeps, stay the fuck away from her. Y/N has a bright future ahead of her, and for her own sake she left you to protect herself,” Ten said with a chilly tone, enunciating each consonant crisply and clearly. They stayed quiet for a while, each left to their own thoughts. “The cards have been laid out onto the table, so what will you do?” And with that, Ten promptly hung up. The rich businessman stared vacantly at nothing, deep in thought. Why did he want to know where Y/N was? If what Ten said was true, and Y/N did leave Italy to break off their relationship, then why did it matter? Wasn’t it just what was going to happen eventually?” Jaehyun buried his head in his hands, grasping at the roots of his brown hair. That fucking smile. God, her smile. Why was it every time he saw it on his mind, his hand drifted to his phone to text her? Why was it every time he forgot about everything on his mind when she showed that smile around him? Y/N might have the body of a goddess, but he found himself craving for the conversation they had after sex. The times where they basked in the afterglow, snuggled tightly around each other’s naked bodies, and they said everything that was on their minds. Hours spent in the Italian sun laughing and bickering with each other. But the thought of never being able to feel her head against his collarbone, never being able to candidly chat with her about history and literature and art and everything under the sun… it made something inside of him hurt.

Days passed. You went home. Jaehyun sent you gifts. You denied them. Because you were Y/N Y/L/N, and you would not be bought with cheap little trinkets. Not anymore, because you were a queen.

“Have you put any thought into what you wanted, Y/N?” Your father’s eyes pierced through you. He talked about men as if they were toys that happened to come in different makes and colors, and you had to just decide which one you wanted from the shelves. “I… have not.” You averted your eyes, swirling the wine around in your glass. “I have played your little games, Y/N. You’d best before I do.” Yet, you already chose the one you weren’t allowed to have.

The glare from the monitor hurt your tired eyes after staring at it for hours on end, and you buried your head in your hands. Your fingers probably skewed the neat bun you had forced yourself to comply into, but it didn’t matter. A helpful little assistant of your father’s had compiled you a profile of each potential suitor’s faces and bio, along with additional information. The whole mechanization of this process was so disjointed like you were hiring an employee at the firm. This wasn’t how Austen or Bronte described the process of getting married. This love wasn’t the birth of whirlwind romance that swept you off your feet or the kind of love that gradually crept on you, but it was the love for money that spawned this trip in futility. Your phone alerted you that a new client— interested in opening an account at the bank— was scheduled for a meeting in 10 minutes. The documents, brochures, and paperwork were already neatly organized into piles your mahogany desk, and all they awaited was a signature. The intercom buzzed, and your new assistant’s voice came through the speaker. “Miss Y/N? The client has arrived early. Would you like me to entertain him, or would you like me to bring him in?” You rubbed your temples and quickly minimized the tab with the suitor profiles, and brought up your file for new accounts. You slid an emblazoned folder, helpfully filled and sorted by your assistant, towards the seating side of the desk and kept the other one near yourself. You checked your makeup and rubbed the possible wrinkles on your clothing you may have possibly incurred while sitting down, and took a deep breath. “Please send him, Charlie. I’m sorted out.” “Yes, ma’am.” The folder in your hand only listed the client as Jeffery Jung, a man in his twenties that had a net worth of more than a hundred million. He had listed, through a secretary of his, that he wanted to open a numbered (private) account and was ready to provide the necessary documentation. You needed to identify his origin of income to be certain before you could discuss investment options with him. The door of your cracked open silently, your fresh-out-of-Harvard intern/ secretary bustling through with horn-rimmed glasses and a mass of papers in his arms. “Mr. Jung, it’s a pleasure to…” You stood up, a pleasant smile plastered to your face, only for it to be frozen in place when an uncomfortably recognizable figure strode confidently through the door. Your limbs stiffened in shock when fucking Jung Jaehyun entered your office in his fucking suit and fucking smug smile, not a strand of hair out of place. “Hello, Miss Y/L/N. It’s a pleasure,” he grinned as if the past few months never happened. In order not to make a scene, you gathered up all your dignity (as much as you could for someone who was a mistress) and shook his large hand that was so familiar from the times he ran it over the curves of your hips or the planes of your face. “Pleasure. And thank you, Charlie,” you nodded at your assistant, who recognized his cue for dismissal. Inclining his head slightly, he bustled back to his desk outside. You turned your eyes to Jaehyun, whom you discretely observed under the guise of being polite. He looked good, a bit paler than when you had last seen him in Italy but was as handsome as ever. Jaehyun looked like a proper Wall Street man, clad in a stone gray suit with a navy tie that looked like it was made of charmeuse. You mentally approved. “Would you like any tea? Coffee, Mr. Jung? Perhaps some light snacks?” you said pleasantly, sitting down in your chair. He followed suit, settling his well-built figure into one of the armchairs in front of your desk. You had to be professional. Courteous. Polite. You didn’t know Jaehyun, he was just a client. Just a client. “I’m afraid not, Miss Y/N. I just had a pleasant afternoon tea down the street at Brown’s, and am, as a result, quite full,” he said. His word choice was stilted, more formal than when he had casually spoken to you during... then. “That’s nice, I like their raspberry and pistachio brownies,” you hummed. “However, I wouldn’t like to occupy your time any more than necessary. You expressed interest at opening a private account?” “Yes, I’d like to. For management and investment purposes.,” he replied, staring at you intensely. Unnerved, you averted your eyes from him and stared at a point behind him. “As you may know, the LNBC bank maintains a high level of privacy for our numbered accounts’ holders. That being said, this account requires a deposit of 285,000 Euros and will also garner an annual fee of 2000 Euros. LNBC also only does transactions in euros, so if you have any currency exchange issues, we have individuals on hand who can help with that.” “That’s fine,” he said, running a contemplative eye over your figure. “I will also need your passport to verify your identity plus valid proof to verify the source of your income.” Silently, he pulled a manila file folder out of his briefcase and handed it to you. Seeing all the necessary documentation in it, you proceed to grab the new forms. A moment passed in awkward silence, filled with only the scribbling sounds of your fountain pen on the folder. You could feel his gaze on you but ignored it. “Y/n,” he said. “Mr. Jung, is there a problem?” you murmured, concentrated at the task at hand. “Y/n, don’t be like this,” he said quietly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” you said calmly, not meeting his eyes. The fountain pen was rudely swiped out of your writing hand and your head snapped up, finally meeting his gaze for the first time in months. “Look at me, Y/n.” “I am, Mr. Jung. However, please do refrain from calling me by my first name—” “I can do whatever the hell I want when I’ve seen your naked body writhing under me,” he said scathingly, gripping the pen tightly. Your mouth trembled and then finally settled in a tight line. Your heartstrings physically ached from seeing him here, in your office, smack in the middle of London. Staring at you as if he was a starving man in the desert and he had finally found the oasis. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Jung,” you replied stoically. “Now, with—” “Dammit, stop calling me that!” he burst out, breathing heavily. He calmed down and said calmly, “Do you remember that time when I made you scream so loud the people the next suite over complained? Do you remember that time you couldn’t move a muscle on that resort on Elba? Do you remember that time when I told you about—” “Fine, Jaehyun! I fucking do! Everything, okay? What the hell are you here, you piece of shit?” you retorted, the pent-up bitterness seeping out like an oozing infection. “You said it,” he replied smugly, a strangely content expression washing over his features. “Answer me! Are you here to wreak havoc on my life again?!” you angrily sneered. His lip curled. “Wreak havoc on your life? Ha! Look what you’ve done to me, woman! My life is ruined because of you!” “Shut the fuck up, Jaehyun! You have miss perfect and prissy hanging off your arm like some sad, untrained dog! Your life is absolutely fucking fine while I’m going to be married off to some bastard, cast off like some whore,” you retorted, pitch and tone progressively getting higher. “Is it really, though? How can it be fine that whenever I close my eyes I see your face and hear your voice and I can’t go to sleep, I can’t concentrate!” he clenched his fists, teeth gritting at the force of his frustration. He was on his feet now, eyes flashing with anger. “I told you it was over, Jaehyun, so it’s not my problem anymore. Go do something about it. Don’t come to me.” He was unsettlingly silent for a moment, a lapse in his angry bluster. “You want to know why I came here? I came here to see if I could see you one more time before I could let you go marry another man, after your refusal of my gifts, only to realize I couldn’t when I saw your eyes for the first time in months. Dammit, Y/N, nothing is right anymore!” “You think it’s all about you, huh? Tell me, Jaehyun, have you ever had the sinking feeling of realizing the man that you were falling in love would never return your affections? That he would never give up anything for you because he was too much of a coward?!” you spat, standing up. “You fell in love with me?” he whispered, eyes wide. Your eyes widened at your mistake. You revealed your cards too soon. “Fell. It was in past tense. Just— please leave,” you said striding over to the door, hands trembling. He spryly lept for your wrist and turned you back towards him. “I call bullshit, Y/N. Your eyes have always been so easy for me to read, even if it isn’t for others. You still love me,” he said. Your eyes shuttered. “Does it matter anymore, Jaehyun?” you whispered brokenly. “I refuse to be the woman on the side. Leave this office for me and for you.” “It does matter. It always will for me, because I fall for you every single day,” he whispered, rubbing a thumb over your wrist. You shoved him away from you. “Me? The homewrecker? Go home, Jaehyun. It’s done.” “Come back to me, it’s not over!” “No, Jaehyun. You will forever be under the thumb of your family. How can I give up everything for a man like that? So please, Jaehyun, don’t drag this out and just leave,” you begged. Your eyes were watering. “Fuck, what do you want me to do? Beg? Get on my knees for you?!” You scoffed. Jung Jaehyun? On his knees for you? A laughable thought. The thump of his knees on the carpet echoed around the room, panging in your heart. You snapped your head to behind you to see the prideful, confident, cocky Jung Jaehyun on his knees. The man who seemed to have the world in the palm in his hand on the floor. Head bowed down as if in prayer. Looking utterly defeated. “Jaehyun…” “Y/N… I thought you were just a pretty face when I first met you. I knew I wanted you. But I never realized how much. You… you left me. I quickly figured out I couldn’t function without you. I couldn’t eat. Sleep. You are the only thing I’ve ever really wan— needed. Y/N, please give me a chance and forgive me. I’m sorry, okay? Give me another chance to lay in bed with you under the sun. Another chance to make you laugh with stupid dick jokes. Another chance to make you smile,” Jaehyun begged from his position on the floor “Carolina,” you whispered, trying to stamp down the fluttering feeling of hope in your chest. “I already sent them weeks ago. The divorce documents. Carolina will be silenced. She’s already pissed off too many powerful people.” “Your family.” “Whether they agree with me or not, it doesn’t matter. I can support myself because I am my own person, something you’ve made me realize. I will marry you and have kids and they have a say in it. Not anymore,” he promised. “My father.” “He will accept me, so help me god, I will stage a fucking coup d’etat to get his approval. Anything for you.” You were well and truly silenced, having nothing you could say to him. Jaehyun slowly stood up and approached you. He gathered your trembling figure in his arms. Snuggled into the crook of his neck, you whispered, “Me.” “This time, I’ll get it right. I can’t promise I won’t hurt you, but I can tell you I won’t intentionally hurt you.” He looked down and smiled. “I need you, you know? To keep smiling for me. I love you too much to let you go.” You lifted a hand to his face, thumb tracing over his cheekbones and lips. “Me too, Jaehyun.”

The rising sun came over the azure blue waters of the horizon, casting beautiful red and orange lights in your villa room. You stirred, feeling warm and snug but still feeling the slightly cold sea breeze come in through the balcony doors. A muscled arm was thrown over your waist, the owner’s hard chest pressing against your back. You turned over, the soreness between your legs a bit debilitating but faced him. The man slowly blinked open his eyes, looking at you dazedly before his gaze sharpened. A smile crept over his lips as he tightened his grip around your naked waist. You could feel a mirroring smile playing on your lips too. “Good morning, Mr. Jung.” “Good morning, Mrs. Jung.” It was paradise.

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