Summary: After a long day at work, you get to spend the rest of the day relaxing with Bambam and your four cats.
Oneshot
Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship au
Word Count: 1,262
Bambam X Reader
Requested: I wonder if you can go a lil BamBam fluff :DD Like not over the top fluff but like domestic home fluff? Like reader comes home to a cozy house of BamBam and cats?? Idk, do what you feel is right! Love youuuuuu 💜
[A/n: I did name ½ of the cats. But seriously they can have any name you wish. (One is named King like Bam’s real cat but not an imitation). I don’t write about Got7 too much anymore, if that. I still love them but not enough to write about them. Anyways, the reason I took this is because I’ve known and been friends with this person in real life for many years. On top of having inspiration for it. And today she starts her new job, and I wish her lots of luck. Anyways, love ya too! Hope this is to your cup of tea!]
------
You’ve waited for the weekend to come since the dawn of Monday, wanting to be back in Bambam’s arms. But with you both working different schedules, it was hard to be home together. As you clock out, you can’t help but feel giddy. You race out of the building, barely saying goodbye to anyone before hopping in your car. Your phone rings as if he knew, “Hey, Baby, are you on your way?” You grin, “Yeah, I’ll be home in ten. Do you want anything while I’m out?” He hums and says, “No, just you. I ordered your favorite, by the way.” You thank him and say your goodbyes, and after checking the coast that the was clear, you barrel out of the parking lot, looking forward to a long weekend of cuddling and relaxing.
You can’t help but smile as you see your shared home. Back before you bought a house together, he always felt like home. And now that you’re living together, it felt surreal, no matter how many times you return. You call into the house as you set your keys down, “Babe, I’m home~” He calls back, “In the living room!” You smile and reach the living room and see a precious site. Curled up on his lap are two of the four cats you share. You quickly snap a photo, and then he catches sight of you, “I’m so happy you’re home. I’ve missed you all week.” “I’ve missed you too, Bam.”
That’s when the other two unoccupied cats hear that you are home. You hear their loud meows before you see them. You smile softly as the one comes up and walks between your legs, and you pick it up and kiss it while the other leads you to your shared bedroom. The cats hop onto your bed as you change into your pajamas, waiting for you to finish cleaning up. They follow you back to the living room, where you settle beside Bambam.
He smiles, wraps his arm around your shoulders, and pulls you into his side. Your workday starts to weigh on you as you rest your head against his shoulders. He asks, “You want to tell me about your day?” You shake your head no, and he kisses your forehead, “You don’t have to. I’m glad you’re home.” The two kitties who followed you hop onto your lap, and Bam chuckles, “Seems like they’re glad, too.” You sigh, “This is nice. It’s good to be home.” He nods and lets you have your moments of rest and peace.
Once you unwind from your long day at work, you start scratching the fuzzy gray cat behind the ears, and she instantly starts purring. The other wakes up from the noise and gives you a look, and you let out a light laugh before using your other hand to scratch their neck. The cats on Bam’s lap stretch out and look up to find your home. The one nuzzles into Bam’s chest and asks for pets, which he willingly gives him. While the other, with its outstretched paws, starts making biscuits on both of your legs. Which makes you both laugh as you sit there basking in the moment. The doorbell rings. Bam scoots his cat onto your lap, which causes the one that was lying on his chest to hop off and head to the kitchen to get his food. You both laugh, and he pulls his arm out from behind you and gets up. Once he’s off the couch, the other curls up against your leg where Bambam was sitting.
You smile at the three cats and wait for Bam to return, “Whatcha get?” He grins as he reminds you, “Your favorite.” You give him a small smile, “I thought it’d be a good way to cheer you up.” You agree, and he pulls the coffee table closer to you. He goes to the kitchen, pulls out the utensils, and two drinks for you two. He returns, opens your cans, and hands you your meal so you don’t risk the three cats moving away. But alas, they do, smelling that it’s mealtime. “Did you give them their cans of food?” He nods, “Yeah, but the two here,” gesturing to the ones on your lap, “Didn’t want to eat until you returned.” “And what about Lamb Chop?” He laughs, “She already ate. That’s why she’s so content lying against us.” You laugh, and she moves into your lap after the two who smell pasta hop down to eat their fishy dinners in the kitchen. She rolls over as Bam sits back down and lays across the two of you, “The baby… Always getting what she wants.” He laughs, “Always. How’s our little lamb chop?” She purrs as the two of you rub her belly before digging into your food.
She hops down as you two finish eating. Bam gets up and takes your trash, “Thanks, Bambi.” He smiles, “No problem, Thumper.” You both laugh and after, he throws away the garbage. The two of you go and wash up after your meal. He grabs your hand in his, stopping you in your tracks, “Do you want to watch TV or head to bed?” You think about it before deciding, “Sleep sounds really good right now.” He smiles, brings you into his chest, and holds you, “Okay.” You nuzzle your face into his chest as you sigh. He runs his fingers through your hair and helps you calm down even further. He waits for you to part from the embrace before he asks, “Ready?” You nod, and he leads you both to your bed and lifts the comforter up for you to get under. You give him a light smile as he gets under the covers on his side before tucking you in and wrapping himself around you.
You hear scratching at the door, “Did you let them in?” He groans, “That’s what I forgot!” He clambers out of bed, unraveling himself before opening their mini door. One of them huffs at him, and he sasses, “King, we’ve talked about this. You get huffy with me. You won’t get any treats.” King huffs at him again, and Bam grumbles as he defeatedly makes his way back to bed. You roll over to face him as he climbs back in and gets under the blanket, “You, okay? Did the big bad kitty-cat give you attitude?” He pouts and nods his head. You ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek, “Aw, it’s okay, Bammie. He’ll purr, and you’ll forget all about it.” He nods, and lo and behold, King makes his way between you two and rubs up against him. “All is forgiven, little man. You’ll get your treat in the morning as usual.” You look towards King, then at Bam, then at King, and back at Bam before he gets it. And gently moves King from in between you two and kisses your nose, “Is someone jealous?” You pout, “Bam…” Which causes him to grin, “Your pout is so cute, baby.” And kisses your lips, “I love you, now let’s get some sleep.” You whisper back, “I love you too.” He turns off the overhead light with a command and turns on the lower light so you can rest at ease. He rolls you over, and you both laugh as he drags you into his arms. Your cats find their places around you two to sleep. And for the next two days, you can relax and spend them merrily with him and your four fur babies.
i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you)
Warnings: Uhhh. Not much. Just some v v light angst, and Jackjack being a teeny tiny bit of a dumbass lil shit. Mentions of alcohol and getting drunk fuk yeah no don't do too much alcohol, kids. body and image insecurities, too.
Pairings: Jackson Wang/Reader
Plot: In another lifetime, another universe, your happy ending has always been in front of you all along.
Genre: light angst, eventual happy ending
And I can still see it all (In my mind)
All of you, all of me (Intertwined)
I once believed love would be (Black and white)
But it's golden (Golden)
And I can still see it all (In my head)
Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed)
I once believed love would be (Burning red)
But it's golden
Like daylight, like daylight
Like daylight, daylight
I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you
(I can never look away)
I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you
(Things will never be the same)
I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night
(Now I'm wide awake)
mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1
Oooooooohhhhweeeeeee
This is crazy
So much has happened since I last posted.
i got psychiatric help so guess who's on meds now? yay (not)
i mentioned here before that when I write the mixtape series, it's not necessarily in chronological order. I already have a rough draft in my mind of how it would go, and I am already planning to write the prequel to the first part, but it won't necessarily mean that it will come first. I also have an idea of what will happen for the ending(s?), but I have yet to muster the energy to write continuously right now bc so much has happened irl
With that being said, my next part will be a glimpse of one of the "what-if" endings. If it irks you that my writings are all over the place, I'm so sorry but I rly cant force my brain to write at one linear pace. As I always say, I hope I don't disappoint, and I'm so sorry if I do.
Thank you so much for loving my babies and for giving them the time of the day. Every time I get a notification of likes/reblogs/kudos/bookmarks, it warms my heart bc wtf it is more than I ever hoped for
thank you so much once again! this part is for those who are rooting for my babie jackjack because hey, he's a fuckin sweetheart and i love him to bits
just a little trigger warning for some insecurities because this is kinda self-projecting, i'm so sorry T_T
🌅
Soft morning light greets you when you open your eyes.
You've always relished in these times—the seconds or minutes of blank bliss and silence in between waking up and lucidity. These are times of peace before facing the storm of the day.
You stare at the ceiling of the room, the cream-colored walls, then the photos that line up your drawers.
So much has happened these past few months. Sometimes, you still can't believe that you've survived through it, that you powered through it. You genuinely thought it would end up killing you, and that you'd die hurting inside out.
But you lived, and you're happy now.
You turn your head to the side to find him, still slumbering. You take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your palm, afraid that this will all be a dream, and that you'll wake up with sweat on your forehead and blood on your lips and sheets.
You honestly would never have made it without him.
The one and only constant in your life, your ride-or-die.
Jackson.
He had been there through everything—the treatments, the hospitalizations, the relapses, and the recovery. He was there to see you fall apart at 3 a.m., see you struggle with breathing at random times of the day, there to see you bleed out from the love you had (have) for the other men who were supposed to love you back unconditionally.
He was there through everything, and he never once let go of your hand.
Sometimes, you think how it would be if you ended up with them; what would happen? Would you be happier? How would it be different from how it is right now?
But then, you think, they never loved you the way you wished to, the way they should've until you were on the brink of death. There would be too much resentment, too much guilt, too much pain. You would never be truly happy.
You feel guilty thinking about these things. You are genuinely happy— happier even—than you've ever been. Jackson never made you feel like you have to be someone else, like you have to live up to someone's high expectations. You never have to cry again, except when he goes on tour and you miss him, or when you're so happy with him that tears just can't help but make confetti in your eyes.
But then, you and Jackson both know that it is inevitable, that the love for the seven men who were once the center of your soul would never really go away. And he's okay with it, you're both okay with it. You've both made peace that they will always be a part of your life. All that matters is Jackson is your home now, that he's the one that you'll come home to. He's the one that you will make a space for in your heart, and the only one that will occupy it and stay for good.
Jackson is home, and he always will be.
You reach out and carefully brush Jackson's hair away from his still-closed eyes. Moments like this you miss the most when he's away on tour and you can't go with him. It gets lonely, but his coming home with the biggest and proudest smile on his face makes everything worth it.
He is worth it, and he always will be.
You scoot closer to his sleeping figure, wrapping your arm around his waist. Februaries are always cold, so his body warmth is heaven-sent. It is also one of the things you miss during times apart. You grew up in a non-affectionate household, touch-starved to the point that you became touch- repulsed. But after getting to know how Jackson feels like home, you can never get enough of his touch. You can never go for too long without it, and you can say you almost reverted to being touch-starved.
You shift to wrap yourself around him, slinging your leg lightly over his. You hear him groan as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying not to miss him already. You still have two weeks left before he leaves again for his next tour, but you can already feel the creeping sadness and pit in your stomach.
You're getting separation anxiety again. Maybe it's time to talk to your therapist.
Your fingers find themselves curled on his arms lightly, tracing shapes and absently doodling on his skin.
"You're up early," comes Jackson's sleep-laden voice, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.
"'m not up yet," you grumble, subtly inhaling the scent of his skin. "And it's already seven AM; not early."
Jackson chuckles. "Okay, okay. No need to get pouty."
You huff. "I'm not pouty," an irony as you can actually feel yourself pout more when he says that. "It's really just not early."
It is early, you actually know it. But you want to spend more time with him before he sets off to wow the whole world again while you stay behind and wait for him to come home, so no, it's not really early.
You feel him kiss your hair. "Ah. I'm still here, but you already miss me." He laughs lightly. "What would you do without me?"
You know it's a joke, but your abandonment issues have been seriously acting up for a while now. You have to swallow before answering.
"I'd die without you," you blink rapidly to stop yourself from crying, trying to keep your tone light. "Terribly, so."
"Hey," Jackson tries to push your shoulder gently to look at your face, but you don't want him to see your crumpled expression.
"Hey, don't cry. It's too early for you to cry." You sniff, not wanting to let go of him. "I'm joking. You can never get rid of me at this point."
"But you can get rid of me," you fail to not sound miserable. "You can find someone else and settle down with them, someone whole."
A pause.
"Someone not broken."
"No." This time, Jackson's tone is firm, almost angry. "I don't like you talking about yourself like this, and I won't get rid of you. Is that what you think of me?"
"No, but you—"
"'But I ' nothing '," he says. He sits you both up and he puts his hands on your shoulders. "I fought nail and tooth just so I can have my happy ending with you. I fought with the law, I fought your soulmates, and I will fight all over again just so I can have this until we grow old and wrinkly. Why would I get rid of someone I've wanted my whole life? That's fucking stupid."
Your lips curl in a slight pout, trembling with all the tears that want to escape. You absently touch your chest, used to the phantom pain that came with the soul-scraping before. It's gone now, but all the things you used to do, used to go through, as well as the painful memories are still here.
"I..." You start, voice hoarse. "Sorry, I just don't want a repeat of that, you know?"
"I know."
"And I know you're not like them, but there are so many reasons things don't work out. And not to be dramatic or what—erm—," you clear your throat, "but I won't survive the next time I go through that again." Not if everything goes into plan, that next step you are planning with him. "It'll kill me."
You won't survive another soul-scraping, you just won't.
"You won't. I won't leave, I promise." Jackson presses a tender kiss on your lips, running his thumb on your cheek as he cradles it gently. "As I said, we'll grow old and wrinkly. We'll be that meme on Facebook where we grow old together and play bump cars with wheelchairs."
You snort softly. "If you damage my rhetorical wheelchair, I'm using yours. You crawl on the ground."
He grins, a lovely sight on his pretty face. "I'll always crawl my way back to you," he croons.
Jackson leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand finds its way inside your top and you flinch unintentionally. He tenses, then pulls away.
"I'm sorry," you hurriedly say.
"Hey," he says, eyes searching your face. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry. We don't need to do anything you don't want to."
"No, no. I want to." You pause, biting your lip. "It's just... my scar." You absently trace your myectomy scar. He looks at you, willing you to go on. "It's ugly." Among all other things.
"You will never be ugly." You open your mouth to retort but he silences you with a serious look. "I love you, scars and all. But as I said, we don't have to do anything. I just want to spend my time with you, and I'm good."
God, you think, I really think I'll marry you.
You surge up with a fierce kiss to his lips, taking your top off before you can change your mind.
"Wait, wait." Jackson puts his hand on yours, stopping you from taking your shirt off. "No."
"No?" You swallow thickly.
"No, not like that," he says hurriedly, seeing your mood shift. "Is it a good day?"
You know what he means, and it is not.
"No," you agree in a small voice. "It isn't."
You've gotten far from your insecurities, but they sometimes come back sneakily, like they did yesterday and today, of all days.
"We can keep your shirt on if you'd like?" he offers.
You take one look at him. Yup, you'll definitely marry him.
"Please?" You implore with your eyes.
He smiles softly. "Then we keep your shirt on."
His smile turns wicked.
"Won't stop me from eating you out from under it, though."
---
"Mark!"
"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."
"But—"
"Do you love him?" he asks.
"Yes!"
"Do you want to marry his ugly face?"
"He's not ugly, but yes!"
"Do you want to spend your lifetime kissing his ugly face?"
"Again, my Jackson is not ugly, but yes, I do!"
"Did you change your mind then?"
"Y—no, I did not!"
"Then why are you backing out?!"
"Because what if he doesn't want to?" [Name] bursts out to which Mark snorts impatiently. "What if doesn't want that for life? That's a lifetime of commitment, Mark. I can't undo that shit."
"You think he would want to?" Mark asks, almost angry, his patience growing thin. He rolls his eyes to heaven when he sees you in near tears.
"He wants to marry your equally ugly face," to which you splutter a 'hey!', "he talks, breathes, and sleeps nothing but [Name], [Name], [Name]." He sighs.
"Do you really think he would let go of you now?"
You know at this point that your fear is redundant and irrational, but you can't help it. Not when your own (ex-)soulmates didn't want you. It took you almost dying, and choosing your dignity and self-respect before they turned around. And even then, it was too late. Your soul is having none of it.
Mark softens at your silence. "Did you talk to your therapist about this?"
You nod. "Yeah. He said that I should start forgiving myself and moving forward and that I should believe that not everyone is like them. Not everyone will leave me."
"He's right. We won't leave you. We're stuck with you, just like how you're stuck with us. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay, good. Now, give me my hug because I just got from a long tiring flight because someone didn't want me to ride her private jet." He glares at you.
You laugh. "I told you, I need to fly here earlier than you since you can't cancel your meeting."
"You could've—I don't know—waited for me, maybe?" He pulls you in a tight hug.
Before you two can pull away, however, you both hear the sounds of Jackson's voice and the door opening.
Oh, shit.
You two freeze on your hug. You don't understand why you did but you just feel guilty, like being caught with your hand down your pants. You and Mark pull away from each other quickly.
"What's this? Hugging without me, huh?" Jackson jokes, but you can hear the slight insinuation in his voice, one that Mark does as well.
"Yeah, I'm stealing your girlfriend, Wang. Watch out." Mark smirks lightheartedly.
This bitch!
Jackson's eyebrow twitches. "You wish." They embrace in a brief hug before he turns to you with a soft smile on his pretty face.
Wow. Years in and you still can't get your heart to shut up over his smile.
"Hey," he says softly. "This is a very nice surprise."
"I missed you and the bed was cold," you pout slightly. "So here I am."
"Ah, I knew it. You just want a bed warmer." In the background, you can hear Mark fake gag, and Jackson gives him the finger.
"No, I want my Jackson not an electric blankie, smartass."
"Your Jackson, huh?" Mark fake gags again, and you smile at Jackson's 'fuck off, Tuan'.
"This is not what I signed up for, so I'm leaving you lovebirds to it."
"About time." This time, it's Jackson who grumbles, and you and Mark both laugh. "Shut up."
---
The next few days of the tour see Jackson busier than ever, and so are you. With the tour coming to its end, you scramble to get the last steps of your surprise into place. After all, Jackson deserves the best, and you don't want to give him any less.
This also means that you both get to see less of each other. You miss him and it sucks, and Jackson sometimes gets to receive the burnt of it, unfortunately.
"Hey. It's okay, everything's going to be okay," he says. You are so close to bursting and just saying fuck it, but you can't, so you let out a frustrated growl.
"It is not, stop saying that again and again." It is not. The local producer and local venue producer are being tough nuts to crack for some unknown reason, and are uncooperative. They are the only remaining people you need in on the plan, so it is taking too much time and effort on your part. Not that Jackson is not worth it, but the headache is just a bitch to deal with. "It really isn't so I ask you to kindly fuck off, Jackson. I don't need you patronizing me right now."
"Hey," he says firmly, his jaw heavy set. "I'm not doing anything, so don't take your shit out on me."
Ah, shit.
"Jacks—"
"Is it because I'm taking much of your time?"
"What?"
"Is it because I'm taking your time away to be with Mark?"
Your jaw drops. "Excuse me?"
"You think I don't see how you spend your time with him? How close you two seem to be nowadays?"
Aw, hell no.
"Jackson, no. What the fuck?"
"No, no. It's okay. You don't need to explain, you know? If you want to be with Mark-hyung, it's fine. I'm not gonna stand in the way."
"What are you talking about? Are you saying I'm cheating on you?" you ask in disbelief.
Jackson shakes his head. "I'm saying that if you want to be with him, you don't need to start picking fights just so we can break up." His eyes turn sad. "I'll let you go, you just have to ask."
Your chest hurts at that, stirring up old feelings you thought you'd never be able to feel again. "And you're gonna let me go, just like that?"
Silence.
You laugh humorlessly. "Wow. And you think of me that way, too."
"[Name]—"
"No." You thank whatever fuck there is that you had the foresight to book a separate room to plan your surprise (not that you sleep in it, with you opting to always sleep beside Jackson since arriving) and take your bag from the chair by the window of the suite.
"Thank you for clearing that shit up. At least I know now where I stand."
Jackson grasps your wrist delicately. "Sweetheart—"
You pull your wrist away from him. "Don't 'sweetheart' me, Jackson." He stops at the sight of the brimming tears in your eyes, the hurt painted in it.
"I trusted you with shit, you knew how I abhor those things you accuse me of. You knew how I hated my mom because of the things she did, and yet you dared think I am like her."
"I didn't—"
"Yes, you did, Jackson. Because if you only knew how full I am of you since the day I let those bastards go from my life." You sniff. "It's only and always been you, you, and you. Everyone knew that; everyone knows that."
"I don't—"
"Yeah, you don't. So I'll spare you the time and just leave you be. I never plan to force myself into something or someone, and I don't plan to start now."
Jackson tries to refute that it isn't the case, but you slam the door shut in his face behind you before he can even get a word in.
[ah, these kids. what do i do with you two?]
Jackson looks at the door you just slammed shut in his face, then to the dresser in his suite that you never opened. You two had always been intertwined, but you always gave him his space and privacy. He walks towards it, opens it, and takes the velvet box with the sparkling ring in it.
All I can say is you two are idiots, and everyone will agree with me.
---
"You what?!"
You grumble, shielding your bottle away from Mark. "Please don't shout at me, I'm already having a hard time as it is." You try to pull off your pitiful face, but Mark only makes his own face at you.
To be fair, Mark finds you pitiful, but not in that way. And he kind of wants to punch Jackson in the face right now too because seriously, you and Mark? It's like him and his sisters, what the actual fuck?
He can't blame the man, however. Everyone in the circle knows how Jackson has been wounded by the relationships he was in before, so it's easier for him to switch to defense mode. Jackson has always been prone to leave before he gets left when he feels like the other party is slowly losing interest.
But the dumbass has always been prone to the dumbest dumbassery in the group. And this? This takes the cake, Mark could roll his eyes to heaven.
"And you didn't bother to, I don't know, explain shit to him?" he asks with the patience of a saint.
You pout. You had the audacity to pout and Mark feels the patience slowly slipping away from him. "No. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if I do."
Holy fuck.
"Are you shitting my dick right now?" he mutters. You only snort and Mark pulls away the bottle from you.
"Hey!"
"Listen to me. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if you two break up because there'll be no one to surprise. You know he is a dumbass and you decided to be a dumbass too?"
"Hey! He accused me first! I didn't accuse him anything when he shot that sexy ass shoot with the ashes and stuff—"
"—Cruel." Mark supplies helpfully.
"Yes, that. I didn't do that with the main dancer when they've been cute and friendly and shit off cam, and yet he accuses me with you." You belch and gag, and Mark steps away slightly from you to avoid any impending projectile vomiting. "Like 'ew'."
"I agree with you, but how dare you, bitch? Are you saying I'm 'ew'?"
You level him with a look as much as you can with your drunk face, and Mark has never had the urge to headlock a woman before.
"Anyway," you say forlornly, "at least I know where we stand now." You sniff, and Mark feels bad for you (a little).
"No, you really don't. I thought that by now, you would know how he is."
"You weren't there when he said it!" You burst out angrily. "He means it! Do you know how it feels standing there and being practically told that he knows I'll leave him for other people, and that he'll let me?" You burp loudly again. "Me, of all people? When he knew how I detest that shit. With all the things I went through?"
And then you burst into ugly sobs.
[ah, jackson. you really are one dumbass.]
"Hey, hey, no," Mark says, wrapping his arms around you. "Don't cry. You're not allowed to cry. Doctor Im told you you're still healing; you're not even allowed to drink."
"Yet here I am," you say with a shaky laugh that morphs into another sob. "Again."
You're not sure if you're just talking about drinking or the fact that you're on the brink of losing yourself again over lost relationships. It's tiring, really. But it is what it is, as they say.
"Can you—can you please get my bag?" you ask Mark. "By the door, tossed it earlier," you slur.
You've never really shown Mark the ring you want to propose to Jackson with. Mark assumed that it is flashy, and you're never one for flashy things, so you're embarrassed about it.
That's not it, however. Completely the opposite, actually. The engagement ring is totally simple, a silver band encrusted with small diamonds on top. The only flashy thing about it is the bigger diamond heart in the center and the smaller gems that surround it on both sides.
The smaller gems are the highlights, you think. You took them from the necklace with both the birthstones that were gifted by Jackson to you during your first year anniversary and had them cut delicately to fit the ring you had in mind. On the right heart side are your birthstones, while on the left are Jackson's. You know some might find it too feminine, and Jackson might not be able to wear it that much in his line of work, but the ring is the most beautiful thing you have ever created in your life.
And now, Jackson won't be able to see it. That thought brings you to a fresh round of tears.
"Too girly, isn't it?" You ask Mark, who is silent. "And it should be the other way around—he should be the one asking me to marry him. I still would've asked him to marry me with this, Mark. That's how I don't give a shit. I just wanna marry his ugly face, but now I can't."
"You wanna marry me?" Comes a soft voice behind you and Mark. You jerk away, and Mark gently unwraps his arms around you as Jackson steps forward.
"I'll let you lovebirds talk," Mark says as he pulls away, but your wide eyes (as wide as bloodshot eyes can be) are only trained on Jackson. Mark pats Jackson's shoulder with a low 'we'll talk later', and Jackson only nods. It is silent until Mark closes the door behind him.
"You wanna marry me?" Jackson asks again. "You're gonna ask to marry me, [Name]?"
You can only nod, your eyes shut as your tears don't stop falling.
"Stay here," he only says. It's not like you're going anywhere, so you stay put. However, when five minutes turn to fifteen, then to twenty, you start to think that Jackson has either gone to sleep or gone off to god knows where. Before you can even think about getting up and running after him, the door to your suite opens.
"Come here, stand up." Jackson takes your hand and helps you stand up. He wipes your face with his hand, then with the cold cloth that someone hands him (whom you recognize is one of his staff). Other staff start to fuss over you as someone turns on the overhead lights.
"Wait, what?" you ask as someone starts to powder your face. "What's happening?"
You turn to Jackson, who's being ushered into a suit. You are ushered yourself by the few staff he had roped into helping into the other room to change into a tulle sweetheart dress.
"We're getting married."
---
"So, Jackson..." You hear the host through the speakers start his next question as you wait backstage with Mark. Even with the elopement, you're still going through with your plan.
That other plan.
"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."
Here we go again, but this time, Mark is a little less pissed and more exhausted with your shenanigans.
"No, I'm just saying. Maybe I should do this in private instead? This is the equivalent of putting a girl on the spot with marriage proposals, which, for the record, I absolutely detest because fuck having choice and not cornering them into whatever they want, right?"
"While I do agree with you, he'll pee his pants and probably hump you if you do this than to be put off, trust me," Mark says. "And besides, everything is ready. All it needs is the execution."
Mark has a point.
Before you can wimp out again, you hear your name being called to an uproar of cheers. You're lucky Jackson's fanbase is mostly supportive of your relationship since you two came out a few years ago, though it is not without some minor hiccups and a few outrage from the unsupportive ones. What matters however is you lucked out, and you can never be more grateful.
"[Name] [Last Name], ladies and gentlemen!" You hear the host say as you see Jackson's blinding grin when you step out from the backstage.
Oh, you swoon. My smitten darling [Name].
Steady, girl.
"So, Miss [Last Name]—"
"It's Mrs. Wang, actually." You hear gasps from the audience, and Jackson's blinding grin turns lovelier and wider. "We actually got married in secret, and you forgot this at home." You hand him his ring as you grin mischievously.
"Okay, Peeta Mellark." Jackson rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he slips on his ring. "What a way to break it to them."
"My, my." The host fans himself with a wide smile. "Is this what you meant when you told me you'll be getting me a high rating?"
"I hope so," you say sheepishly. "If it doesn't, then no worries. I still have another trick in my hat. Don't you worry."
You look at Jackson and can't help but laugh inwardly at his clueless smile.
Oh, dear.
The interview goes without a hitch, with it mostly centered on your married life. You were originally nervous about how it would turn out, but it had been so far so good. Nobody threw shoes, and all that happened was a little 'booooo' when asked if you had had your honeymoon yet (which not yet, because you were both busy for a while after his tour).
"So, [Name]," the host asks again with a little waggle of his eyebrows. "What is this other trick of yours you mentioned earlier?"
Ah, shit. Here we go.
"Ah." Your smile turns a little serene, and you see Jackson sit up straighter in his seat. Nobody would notice it if they are not in tune with him, but he practically owns your whole soul, and you'd like to think that you do his, too, so you notice it.
"Have I told you my story about my soulmates?"
The host shakes his head. "Pray, do tell."
"Well, not everyone gets lucky with theirs. Everyone knows that." You smile sadly, the audience turning quiet.
"Yes, of course. A very sad fact that everyone is very well acquainted with." The host smiles sympathetically at you.
"I used to think it was the end of the world when mine didn't want anything to do with me. I kept thinking that something was wrong with me, that maybe I was really not worth their time. That maybe I was meant to suffer and die hurting."
You pause, then you look at Jackson. "But then I realize, I have you," you say softly.
You look back at the host.
"What more can I ask for when I have him?"
Your smile turns happier as the audience lets out a quiet 'aww'.
"I really like doing things unconventional and my way so..."
You bite your lower lip as you look once again at Jackson, who has his eyes trained on you and hanging on to every word you say.
"Would you give me the honor of being my forever soulmate, Jackson?"
It was like a time warp. The moment he said yes, cheers erupted, and everything blurred and warped in your ears. All your fears, all the hurt and pain? It was gone.
This is your happy ending, you deserve it, my dear [Name].
Go live it.
---
Meanwhile, somewhere a thousand miles away, a group of young men smile sadly at what could have been, and what was lost. Their chests perpetually ache with the loss of a piece of a soul they can never get back.
Disclaimer: contains 18+ content; minors do not interact
Day six of kinktober - mark tuan x overstimulation
⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰
“Mark! Don’t stop!” Was all you could whimper out from how amazing your fiance was fucking into you at the brutally fast pace he set. He had you on all fours as he firmly held your waist before pushing your front down to allow for your body to relax slightly.
Mark had decided to take you on a surprise trip to Bali and rented out a private villa on the beach to allow for the quality time the both of you craved. He had been busy with work and reestablishing himself within the music industry, while you were hard at work at your office job. It was a stressful time in both of your lives, but you always made time to see each other at the end of each night and this was his reward to you for always looking out for him and taking care of him when he couldn’t himself.
Mark couldn’t get enough of you and how amazingly tight you felt around his throbbing cock. The two of you had been at this for a few hours now, only letting you have a small break in between before getting back to it as if the two of you were rabbits. You were a whimpering mess as Mark continued edging you closer and closer towards your fifth orgasm of the day.
“You can cum one more time for me, can’t you baby? Be a good girl for me,” He chuckled, still pounding into you from behind as a few grunts left his lips, signalling he was close to his release as well.
“Yes, sir,” You whined out as tears of pleasure rolled down your pink cheeks, closing your eyes as you gripped the pillow you laid on.
He spread your legs wider for him to thrust deeper into your soaked core as his fingers wrapped around your waist to frantically rub messy circles onto your clit. You bit the pillow to suppress your loud moans, but Mark had another idea as he threw it to the side, pulling onto your hair as a loud whimper escaped your lips.
“Let me hear you. Fuck, you know what those sounds do to me,” His pace increased as small moans left his lips, tears of immense pleasure falling from your tired eyes.
Mark continued to pound into you as his cock twitched inside of you, spilling into your tight, warm core. He let a few moans leave his lips as he pumped his cock into you a few more times to rid your highs out as you whimpered from how sensitive you were from your sixth orgasm. He carefully pulled out of you as he watched the huge load of cum drip from your sore pussy. He groaned at the sight before getting up to grab a cool washcloth, realizing that you needed a bit of time to recover before going for another round.
He carefully wiped up the mess as you kept your eyes closed and tried to steady your breathing, “I wasn’t too rough on you, was I baby? You’re like a drug to me, I can never get enough of you,” He grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
You smiled at him, still with closed eyes, “Don’t think you’re the only one who enjoyed that,” You quietly chuckled before gesturing for him to come towards you, “Come here and take a nap with me, then we can resume our activities.”
synopsis: when y/n’s sister is murdered, she’s forced to evaluate everything that she thought she knew.
genre: mystery, witsec au
warnings: the reader is in a club (they’re old enough to legally be there), murder, gore, imagery used to describe the reader tripping over and finding a dead body, probably incorrect portrayal of the witsec program, there’s a mildly disturbing nightmare
rating: pg-17
author’s note: this is part one of the walking on sunshine event! it focuses on summer beginnings. i was partnered with @dreamystuffers, and credits to them for the amazing moodboard! thank you @birbdae and ryan for being my beta readers. seriously, thank you for filling in all the spaces where i wrote blah blah
“I freaking hate Tzuyu.”
You groan, dropping your head in your hands. Sympathetically, the bartender slides a glass of water towards you, accepting the grunt that you emit afterwards as a sort of thank you. You pause in your wallowing to take a long sip of the icy liquid, feeling the pressure in your head lift slightly.
“Rough night?”
The bartender’s smooth, baritone voice carries over the loud sounds of the club’s music, and you wince at his words.
“Something like that.”
The bartender looks as though he’ll say more, but he’s cut off by the sound of a high, feminine voice ordering another drink. You’re grateful for the distraction, sliding a wad of bills over the counter and slipping off of the metal stool. You appreciate the kindness he has shown you, but you really need to start looking for your sister.
Slowly, you begin to weave through the throng of clubgoers, searching for anyone who moderately resembles your sister. You wince as an elbow connects with your stomach and bite back a curse when a heel stabs your toe. Still, there is no sign of your sister.
Pushing your way to the far side of the club, you lean against a wall, panting slightly, and pull out your phone. The LED at the top signals that nobody tried to call or text you while you were struggling to navigate a mob of drunk clubgoers, and a knot of worry tightens itself in your stomach. It’s been over an hour since you last saw your sister. She left you at a booth with a few of your mutual acquaintances to go dance, and you haven’t seen her since. Giving them an awkward smile, you had slid out of the booth to go sit at the bar. You were more polite to them because they were your sister’s friends than anything, and you know you hadn’t been imagining the awkwardness that had settled into the air once your sister had left.
You quickly swipe through your phone, silently praying that Tzuyu will answer and tell you she took a cab back to your shared apartment and she forgot to tell you, or that she’s actually been in the bathroom constipated this entire time.
“Hi, this is Tzuyu, I’m busy right now, which is why I didn’t pick up…”
With a groan, you turn your phone off. Pushing yourself off the wall, you weave your way to the bathrooms, opting to begin your second search there. Unsurprisingly, the small metal stalls are empty. You cringe as your shoe sticks to an unknown substance, exiting the bathroom and mind racing about where Tzuyu’s whereabouts could be.
A cool breeze winds itself around you, tousling your hair gently and you freeze.
A breeze?
You turn away from the rest of the clubbers, following the hallway deeper into the building. The further you go, the darker it gets, and a second chill sets upon you, one unrelated to the cool breeze.
Heart pounding, you turn the corner and see a cracked doorway. The soft light of the night greets you, and you feel a spark of relief. Maybe her phone died and your sister went out this door to leave. You quickly hurry out the door, pushing it open and turning down the alleyway.
You’ve only gone a few paces, pulling out your phone to dial your sister again when your foot collides with something hard. Your arms flail as you attempt to right yourself, but you go down, your elbow colliding with something soft and your chin colliding with the hardness of the asphalt.
Letting out a groan, you try to push yourself up by pressing your hands against the ground on either side of you, but they slip. Something wet and sticky coats your hands, and confusion fills you as you blindly reach around you for your phone. Your fingers connect with the cold metal, and you’ve scarcely turned on the device and activated the flashlight before you’re greeted with the mutilated body of your sister.
It takes you a second to register that the loud noise you hear is your own screaming.
You stare blankly ahead of you in shock.
Vaguely, you hear someone talking to you, but it’s like you’re underwater, all the sounds around you muffled. The image of your sister is frozen in your mind, your fingers trembling as you grip the blanket that someone wrapped around you tightly.
You think back to the last time you saw her, only a few hours ago, smiling and joyous and alive.
If she were here with you right now, she would have something comforting to say. She’d always been the more level of you too, somehow able to keep calm even in situations when you’ve felt panicked. But she’s not.
It should have been me, you think bitterly, rocking back and forth.
“Miss L/N.”
A hand settling on your arm causes you to jump and pull yourself out of your trance. Dumbly, you look at the hand, using it to trace your way up the unknown person’s wrist and arm until you can see their face. Concerned eyes stare back at you, and you force yourself to listen to what the unknown man is saying.
“I’m sorry to say this, but your clothes need to be bagged for evidence.”
You blink, unable to process the man’s words.
“Miss L/N, please. I know you want us to catch whoever did this to your sister, and we’re trying our best, but we need to bag your clothing as evidence.”
The mention of your sister clears the fog that has settled over you, and you nod. Weakly, you stand, following the man as he guides you to a restroom. He hands you a bag and a stack of clothes, instructing for you to change into the new set and bag the old clothes.
Robotically, you do as he tells you to until you’re changed into a sweater several sizes too big and a pair of jeans that cling to your legs tightly. You splash water on your face, staring at yourself hollowly in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, a foreign, hollow look in your eyes. Get it together, Y/N, you chide yourself. You can cry about this later. For Tzuyu.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, you turn, exiting the bathroom with the bag of your old clothes in your hands. As soon as you exit, several furtive glances are sent your way. You furrow your brows in confusion, and a new, unknown man hurries over to you.
“Please follow me quickly, Miss L/N.”
“I don’t understand.”
The man doesn’t respond, hurrying you through the station and down a hallway until you’re stopped in front of a closed door. A plaque centered on the door reads “Sergeant Park.” Not wasting the time to knock, the man pushes open the door, taking the bag from your hands and ushering you in.
“Miss L/N, I’m so sorry about your loss.”
Hearing those words makes your throat tighten again, and you force your feelings down. You look around you, noting the awards adorning the walls around you. Two men stand inside the office, both wearing grim expressions. The one who spoke is seated behind the desk, and he stands, gesturing for you to take the free seat opposite him.
“There’s something we need to talk to you about.”
“My sister was a good person, she wasn’t mixed up in anything — ” You protest.
“That’s not what this is about.” The man opposite you, Sergeant Park, you assume, holds up his hand. “Time is crucial here, so please just listen to what I have to tell you.”
You nod, throat clogging from fearful anticipation.
“The Black Rose is the name of a powerful crime syndicate who’ve been running for the past few
decades. We’ve tried our best to stop them, but they have connections everywhere.”
“My sister — ” You spring to your feet.
“Miss L/N. Please.”
You sink back into the chair, cheeks burning and thoroughly chastised. Once you’re seated, Sergeant Park continues.
“We’re not sure who all is involved with them, but what we do know is that they mark every kill, and they never kill without reason.”
Your thoughts race as you hear the unspoken words. “And my sister was marked,” you deadpan.
Sergeant Park nods grimly, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up within you. It dies instantly at the serious expression on Sergeant Park’s face.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Sergeant Park purses his lips, speaking slowly. “Until we know for sure, we need you to go into witness protection. We promise that we wouldn’t make you do this if we weren’t sure that your life is at serious risk. Mr. Im?”
Sergeant Park gestures to the other person in the room, who you assume is Mr. Im. Until now, he’s been silent, and you almost forgot that he’s here. He gives you a gentle smile.
“Please, call me Jaebum.” His tone is soothing, and you want to trust him. Still, you bite your lip, hesitant.
Sergeant Park speaks again. “Mr. Im will protect you the entire duration of the program. I promise that you’re in good hands. You guys will leave tonight.”
Alarm bells ring in your head. “Wait, tonight? I don’t understand. I still have finals, and what about my life here — ”
“Miss L/N.” Sergeant Park fixes you with a stern look. “I understand that things may seem intimidating right now, but I need you to do your best to do what we say. You could be a key role in this investigation, and Mr. Im is here to ensure that no harm comes to you. I know that this isn’t ideal, but please just let us protect you.”
You look from Sergeant Park to Jaebum. The latter gives you a reassuring smile, and your head still reels from all of the events of the night, but you find yourself nodding.
“Okay,” you breathe. “Okay, what do I have to do?”
“You keep twisting your bracelet.”
Jaebum’s voice pierces through your mindless thoughts and the dull monotony of the journey. You have been driving for the better part of the night, your thoughts still racing as you try to process everything. You look down at the bracelet Jaebum is talking about, and even though it’s dark you know what he’s talking about.
“My sister gave it to me,” you say simply.
“It must be pretty important to you, then,” he observes, eyes never straying once from the road.
“Something like that,” you say, assuming that’s the end of the conversation. Seconds later, Jaebum speaks again.
“Look, Y/N, I know that a lot has happened in one night — ”
“Please don’t,” you whisper, voice cracking. You clear your throat, staring out the window at the dark shadows of the landscape. “Don’t try to act like you understand how I feel. Twenty-four hours ago I was just a college student, and now…”
You swallow thickly, a lump forming itself in your throat.
“You are still just a college student, Y/N.”
“You know, aren’t you supposed to be using my new name?” You force yourself to change the topic, looking at Jaebum out of the side of your eyes.
Jaebum coughs awkwardly. “We aren’t there yet, and I thought that using your real name would make you more…comfortable with me.”
You scoff, but don’t speak. Awkward silence fills the car, interrupted only by the occasional sound of the night from outside your car window.
You remain like that for the rest of the ride. Everytime you think about saying something, you bury it, not wanting to show interest.
After a while, the road turns to dirt. The car bounces along the new road, and you can’t help but feel even further isolated from your old life. Jaebum pulls down a narrow driveway, and then the car stops, bathing a small cottage in the car’s light. Jaebum turns off the car’s ignition, and as you open the car’s door, you can hear the soft sound of waves crashing. Sand crunches beneath your shoes as you take in the sights around you.
You hear the sound of the trunk close, and seconds later Jaebum rounds the car, duffel bags gripped in his hands.
“This is it,” Jaebum says.
“I guess so,” you agree, exhaling nervously. You follow Jaebum up the cottage’s steps, hovering uncertaintly as he unlocks the front door. Following him inside, you squint against the bright yellow lights of the cottage.
You’re standing in a small living room. To your left is the kitchen and what you assume is the dining room, and to the right is a hallway. Jaebum leads you down the hallway, setting one of the duffle bags in front of a plain, unassuming white door.
“This is your room. Mine is right next to you.” Jaebum knocks goofily on the door in front of him, and you let out a short laugh.
“Okay.”
You grab your bag, pushing open the door to the room. You pause in the doorway, unsure. “Good night, Jaebum.”
A moment passes, and then you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good night, Y/N.”
“Tzuyu! Where are you?”
You’re in a meadow, tall stalks of wheat reaching your shoulders. You frown, trying to remember how you got here, but you can’t. Alarm bells ring in your head, and you push through the stalks, searching for your sister.
“Tzuyu! Tzuyu! Where — are — you?”
Your voice is reflected back at you, distorted and garbled. Panic rises in you, bubbling hot like lava, and you begin to push through the stalks around you faster.
Finally, you stumble upon a clearing. A flock of birds takes flight, and your eyes scan the clearing, frantic. A body lies on the ground unmoving, and you run towards it. Deep in your gut you know who it is, but that doesn’t stop the gasp that leaves you as you clearly identify the girl lying there.
It’s Tzuyu.
The sight of her body makes you freeze, and before you can stop it you trip. When you regain your bearings, you’re back in the alley again. You blink, trying to orient yourself, and as you do Tzuyu’s hand shoots out, wrapping itself around your wrist. A scream gets choked in your throat as your sister sits up, smile stretching too wide for her face.
“Why didn’t you save me?”
“Tzuyu, you’re hurting me,” you cry, trying to pry your sister’s grasp from your wrist. She only holds on tighter, other hand shooting out and wrapping itself around your throat.
“Why didn’t you save me? Why didn’t you SAVE ME?”
A scream tears its way out of your throat, and you shoot into a sitting position, clutching the comforter you had admired just hours earlier against you. Your breathing is ragged, and dimly you hear heavy footsteps. Seconds later, harsh light floods your room and you throw your hand against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the intrusion.
Jaebum’s eyes are wild as he takes in your room, the way you’re sitting up, clutching the comforter against you. His muscles relax as he ascertains that you are physically safe, eyes softening at the sight of you.
“Are you okay?”
You nod, embarrassment beginning to seep through your previous horror.
“I’m sorry, had a nightmare.” You force yourself to laugh, the sound an octave too high to be believable. “You can just go back to your room, everything is fine.”
You swallow forcefully, staring down at the comforter and picking at a thread that has unwound itself from the careful stitching. Silently, you yell at Jaebum to leave. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand being mortified, discomfort seeping into the air around you.
After a long pause, you hear the gentle click of your door close. You don’t bother to look up, instead electing to close your eyes, sure that by the count of ten, he’ll be gone.
You’ve just reached eight when you feel your bed dip, and strong arms wrapping themselves around you. You stiffen, eyes snapping open to glare at the offender.
“You don’t have to treat me like a baby, I told you that I’m fine.”
“It’s okay to be weak you know.”
To your immense horror, you feel your eyes begin to well. You blink rapidly, trying to untangle yourself from Jaebum’s presence, but he holds on tightly. Before you can stop it, all of the emotions of the past twenty-four hours hit you, crashing against the gate that you had shoved them behind. The emotions you felt at your sister’s death, the emotional burden of having to suddenly end your old life and going into hiding suddenly become too much, and before you can help it tears stream down your cheeks. You gasp as you struggle to breathe, everything suddenly just becoming too much.
Time goes by without either of you realizing it, and neither of you know how long you remain in that position, Jaebum patting your back lightly as your grief pours out of you. After a few sniffles and swipes across your eyes you let out a groan, pulling away and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes.
“God, I can’t believe I just did that.”
“It’s okay, everyone has to let go of emotions at some point.” Jaebum gives you a gentle smile. “You should try to get some rest.”
“Will you stay with me?” Jaebum’s eyes widen, and you quickly scramble to backtrack. “I mean, you don’t have to — I don’t know what I was thinking — ”
“Of course I will.” Jaebum cuts off your ramble, smiling brightly. “I’ll just bring in a blanket from my room and sleep on the floor — ”
“You can share with me if you want. I don't mind; we both need a good night sleep, right?” You blurt quickly, panting slightly as you finish your question. Jaebum simply laughs, running a hand through his hair. He climbs onto the bed and lays on his side, patting the bed next to him. Shyly, you crawl next to him, laying down and trying not to think about the position you’re in too deeply.
Wrapped in the comfort of Jaebum’s warmth, you close your eyes, focusing on the gentle sounds of your breathing. A sense of tranquility washes over you, and you finally fall asleep.
“I can’t believe Joey has finally brought someone home for Christmas!” Dorine cheered excitedly, bringing down the plates from the cupboard. “Oh to think, all my babies are going to be married soon…”
“Don’t worry, we’ll all always be home for Christmas though.” Tammy smiled, helping bring the plates to the table.
“How did they meet again?” You asked, coming into the kitchen and heading to the counter. Tossing the salad in the bowl, you listened for the answer to your question.
“College, but they reconnected recently.” Grace informed you.
“How sweet.” You grinned. “I’ve never seen Joey like this, he must really like her.”
“It’s definitely serious.” Grace agreed. “Joey dates around but he never brings anyone home.”
“Okay, we’re ready!” Dorine said. “Just bring the salad to the table when you’re done Y/N.”
Dorine, Tammy and Grace left the kitchen to gather the rest of the family at the dinner table.
“Joey and I laid the table.” You heard Mark announced from the other room. He walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and planting a kiss on your cheek. “Hi baby. How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.” You turned around to peck him, before laughing. “But you don’t have to keep asking me how I’m feeling, I’m only 12 weeks.”
“I know but I just want to make sure you’re not over exerting yourself. It’s bad for the baby!”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you handed him the salad bowl that was now tossed. “Okay, okay. Can you take this bowl to the table?”
“Of course.” He smiled, feeling very helpful. Mark took the bowl from your hands and walked away to the table.
You and Mark had agreed not to mention anything to the family until you were past the first trimester. However with Raymond and Grace offering you a drink every other hour it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide.
Sighing, you closed the kitchen light and walked to the dining table where everyone had gathered. Upon seeing you, Mark jumped out of his seat and pulled your chair for you. Smiling, you heard Raymond tap his knife to his glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Hi everyone.” He started, smiling. “I’d like to make a little toast.”
Everyone slowly quieted down, eager to hear the speech.
“I want to thank god for the food and amazing people gathered tonight. And I want to welcome Abby, the newbie this year.” Raymond smiled. “I can’t tell you how much I love having everyone together for the holidays… so without further ado, let’s eat!”
The family cheered as they began to dig into the spread of food laid out on the table.
+++
“So Abby,” Mark spoke up. “How did my meathead brother convince you to spend Christmas with us?”
Flustered, you watched as Joey’s girlfriend looked at Mark. “Oh- uh I was just in town and he messaged to meet up and the rest is history.”
“Ah, I see.” Mark laughed. “He’s not as smooth as he thinks he is.”
Grace chuckled at her brother’s remark before turning to you. “Want some wine Y/N? I think mom just opened up a Cabernet.”
“Oh no thank you,” you declined politely. “I’m good for now.”
“Don’t give your baby brother a hard time Mark,” Tammy winked. “You’re going to scare Abby off.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t run off already.” Mark teased.
“You’re so funny Mark.” Joey rolled his eyes. “Speaking of running off... Don’t you remember Christmas three years ago?”
You bit back a laugh as you watched Mark frown. He was rather sensitive about the situation.
“What happened?” Abby asked curiously.
“Oh you don’t know?” Tammy perked up. “It’s a Tuan family folktale.”
“What?”
“Oh please Tammy.” You laughed. “I’d hardly call it that.”
“It was pretty wild Y/N.” Grace chimed in.
You heard Kylie, Leila and Bailey from the end of the table “It’s really funny!”
“I’d call it straight out of a hallmark Christmas Movie.” Dorine laughed.
“Okay, now I really want to know. What happened three years ago?” Abby turned to Joey.
“Mom had called Mark up asking him about his Christmas plans and who he would be spending the holiday with.” Joey recounted. “At the time Mark was busy, but they cancelled his schedule. It was a fanmeet or something right?”
“A concert.” Mark corrected.
“Anyway, he panicked because he’d lied and said he was seeing someone. So he did what any normal person would do...”
“He admitted that he lied?” Abby suggested.
“Nope! He managed to convince Y/N to fly here and be his fake girlfriend for the holidays.”
“What?!” Abby’s eyes widened. She then turned to you, “is that true?”
“Unfortunately.” You looked at Mark with a small smile.
“So then what happened?” Abby turned back to Joey.
“Well then they actually started to fall for each other… which by the way no one knew. We all just saw them acting like a couple and thought it was for real.”
“Not all of us!” Tammy interjected. “I had a sneaking suspicion that something was up.”
“Yeah right Tammy.” Mark scoffed. “Nobody had any idea, that’s how great we were at acting.”
He held up a hand for you to high five which you did.
“No! Y/N, didn’t I pull you aside and tell you?” Tammy turned to you.
“You didn’t tell me that you thought we were faking it.” You replied. “Just that you thought Mark loved me.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “She did?!”
You nodded with a chuckle.
“Okay anyway can I finish the story?” Joey asked.
“Yes please continue.” Raymond spoke between bites of his food.
“So they were fake dating and then they fell in love for real? Wow…” Abby said.
“You think that’s dramatic? Then Y/N’s ex showed up at our door!” Joey narrated. “A little backtrack to the story, Y/N had only agreed to come with Mark because she’d just broken up with her fiancé.”
“Oh shit! So he showed up?” Abby said, turning to you. “Then what happened?”
“Mark let her go. He let her leave with her fiancé and told us that she had some family emergency.” He continued. “Pretty stupid if you ask me.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, if you love something then you should let it free, because if it really loves you it’ll come back?” Mark asked.
“Yes. And it’s a dumb saying.” Joey replied.
Mark rolled his eyes, letting out a huff. “I just wanted Y/N to be happy and I thought that it meant being with him.”
“Whatever bro.” His younger brother laughed.
“So that was it? Y/N just left?” Abby asked her boyfriend.
“Well… I’m not too sure about the details after that.” Joey admitted.
“I’ll tell you. I dumped the jerk for the second time in the car ride to his hotel. Then I made him drop me off somewhere and I stayed at a dumpy motel until my flight.” You recounted. “I didn’t come back here because I thought your brother didn’t like me and wanted to get rid of me.”
“You thought that?” Mark asked sadly, grabbing your hand.
“What else was I supposed to think?” You laughed. “You walked me straight out of your house and into the car with him.”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed your hand.
“So then after moping around for a few days, mom and dad asked him what had really happened and Mark had to come clean.” Joey told Abby.
“Oh wow…” Abby trailed off, thinking about the story.
“Yeah, Mark had to chase Y/N at the airport and catch her before she got on the flight back.”
“You chased her at the airport?! That’s so romantic.” Abby sighed.
“Well, it was romantic once the security guards let go of him.” You smiled. “They were really trying to drag him out of there. I was afraid they thought he was a hijacker or something.”
“I had to do whatever it took to get to you before you left.” Mark said. “Anyway it paid off didn’t it? Now we’re married and about to have a baby.”
Your eyes widened as you looked at Mark.
“Y/N IS PREGNANT?!” Dorine yelled across the table.
“Oh shit.” Mark cursed, frantic. “We weren’t really telling anyone yet since it’s so early.”
You watched as Dorine’s eyes welled with tears of happiness.
“It’s okay Mark.” You reassured him, looking around the table and smiling. “But yes, I found out a few weeks ago.”
“Oh my goodness I’m so happy!” Dorine cried. She stood up from her seat and hugged you. “This is the best Christmas present ever!”
“So that’s why you weren’t drinking.” Grace mused. “I was wondering why my wine buddy wasn’t having a glass tonight.”
You laughed at Grace, “I’m sorry, I’m going to be out of commission for the next 7 months.”
Pouting, she raised her wine glass “To Y/N and Mark. Merry Christmas!”
“To Y/N and Mark. Merry Christmas!” The table echoed back.
I hope you guys enjoyed this epilogue! I originally hadn’t planned one but I just thought this was a cute way to catch with the Tuan’s and tie the story up.
Society fell when the game came out. It was supposed to be a game for children, where they could let their imaginations run rampant. The game was meant for them to have an escape from everyday life. But then they didn’t stop playing. They spent all day in the game. Nothing else mattered except the game.
The game--the game wasn’t like other games. It was the future of virtual reality. It was a game where you didn’t need to stop to sleep or even use the bathroom. Your consciousness was transferred into the game, putting you in a deep slumber, a coma almost. The only downfall was you had to leave, until you didn’t have to.
The kids turned to the black market for medical IV’s so they could keep playing. Crime began to rise significantly over the mere months since the game’s initial release. The police did their best, but with limited resources and limited money, there was only so much they could do.
Then the adults started playing. In an attempt to save their children, adults entered the game. The only problem was, they never left. The curiosity of what had captured their children’s minds so effortlessly and quietly. Slowly, the adults stopped leaving the game. They followed in their kids’ footsteps, buying IV’s and locking themselves away in the game.
Businesses began shutting down from the lack of customers and the employees seeming to vanish into thin air. Life began slowing down, the only thing thriving in the dying country was crime. The police slowly began to stop doing their jobs, letting the country run rampant with illegal activities.
The worst of it was in the capital. The most powerful people, the socialites, lived there, including the manufacturer of Virtual Paradise-- the game responsible for capturing half the nation’s mind. The game went world-wide, and soon everyone who was anyone had purchased the game. People, desperate to escape their lives, stole the game from anywhere they could get it. The company, Tempestechnologies, had become the company.
However, that was the capital and all major cities of the world. What was really scary was the rest of the country that couldn’t afford the game. Or if they could, they were smart enough not to buy it. With the world and the nation in chaos, the country had been divided into three districts.
The first was the JYP District. It covered most of the coastline and was the mediator between the other two districts. The leader of the District referred to herself as Queenie. As the only female leader, she gave herself a fitting title. While rather small in size, she was a force to be reckoned with. She and her husband had made a quiet, but successful, living working mainly with oversea gangs. She kept the other two districts as close allies.
The second was the SM District. This District covered the northern side of the country. It just also happened to be the richest amongst the three Districts since the Capital fell within their territory. The leader was Leeteuk, a successful businessman turned into an even more successful gang leader. He knew where the game would lead the country from a young age, and he’d been preparing ever since for the inevitable.
The last District was the scariest. YG District was made up of the southern side of the country and what little bit of the coastal region JYP didn’t control. The crime rates were so high, the police had completely given up and worked for the District’s leading gang and the leader. The leader--the leader was so many things, finding one word to describe him was impossible. G-Dragon had done so many unthinkable things, had seen the unimaginable, and he had laughed at it all.
Now while Queenie had aligned herself and JYP with SM and YG, the two didn’t like each other. In fact, if it hadn’t been for her, there certainly would have been a civil war unlike any before. That’s where the story started, at the end of a feud that started before either of them reached double digits.
Queenie sat in one of the clubs in her District. For the best outcome, everyone needed to meet on neutral territory. That meant her territory, which she didn’t mind at all. Her turf, her rules. She smirked, eyes scanning the club, skimming every face she recognized and every face she didn’t. She watched as A, one of her informants, flirted with some random guy at the bar. He wasn’t bad looking, but Queenie knew A was simply biding her time.
“Are you sure they’re going to show?” JB, Queenie’s second in command, sat perched at the edge of his seat. He was staring directly at her, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. His drink sat on the table in front of him, barely touched as the ice slowly watered it down. She smirked, reaching to grab her own glass off the table.
“Have patience. They’ll show up.”
As if on cue, Mandu, JB’s personal bodyguard, escorted four men in. Mandu had dark brown hair parted away from his face. His muscles bulged against his tight shirt, giving everyone a clear image of his strong physique that detoured most people, as long as he kept his mouth closed. Once he opened his mouth, any intimidation the other party felt disappeared. Even with his deep, intimidating voice, Mandu was simply too sweet and kind for his own good.
Leeteuk sat in the chair opposite of Queenie. His pink hair fell into his eyes, making him squint and occasionally toss his head. His suit jacket was undone, revealing the tight, black dress shirt that hugged his toned chest. It was a well known fact that he had quite the fascination with her. Whether it be because of her stunning beauty or the power she held was of little consequence.
Next to him was Suho, his second in command. Suho was to keep himself more put together than Leeteuk did when she was around. His black hair was combed away from his face, and his suit was well-put together, albeit more casual than what he usually wore. They were supposed to be more casual, relaxed, with each other. Hence them meeting in some bourgeois club. And that was strictly on Queenie’s request.
Behind them were their bodyguard, arms crossed over their chests as they eyed Queenie and her subordinates half-heartedly. They never saw her as a real threat. Whether it was because of their alliance or because they truly believed she wasn’t a threat to anyone was unknown to her. But she knew she could handle herself, and should the time ever come, she would show them just how well.
“Gentlemen. Welcome. I hope the journey wasn’t too hard,” she greeted.
“Seeing you again is worth every second,” Leeteuk said, shooting her a wink. Queenie peered over her glass, sparing a glance to Suho who was staring at Leeteuk with a slight scrunched face. He rolled his eyes, taking a prolonged sip from his cup. “I only wish it was under better circumstances.” She carefully set down her cup.
“I think these are the best circumstances. You’re finally putting that silly little feud behind you,” she said. She leant forward, placing a delicate hand just above his knee, giving it a light squeeze. “You know how much I dislike conflict.” He watched her hand with a dark gaze, his leg tensing under her touch. Suho and JB shared an unimpressed look before they both took a sip of their drinks. Queenie pulled back, crossing her legs as she observed Leeteuk.
Leeteuk observed her too, taking in her now short hair, the subtle makeup around her smoldering eyes and luscious lips. His eyes trailed down her body, admiring how the dress hugged her curves and even gave him a glimpse of what the thin fabric was covering. She was temptation. He knew that, she knew that, he knew she knew that, and he was more than aware she used that knowledge to her advantage, yet he let her pull him in. What they knew was of little consequence to them.
“I see they’re just letting anybody in here now.” Queenie and Leeteuk looked away from each other to the three people that had entered the room. DaH, Queenie’s personal bodyguard, had brought in two more people for their little celebratory party. Her long blonde hair fell down her back as she shot a harsh glare to the pair she’d brought in. DaH wasn’t built like Mandu, she was small and petite, but she made up for her lack of bulging muscles with speed and agility. And unlike Mandu, when she spoke, her words were laced with venom.
G-Dragon gave DaH a cheeky wink, to which she replied by narrowing her gaze more. She shot Queenie an unimpressed look before moving to stand behind her. G-Dragon oozed confidence. His hair was a disheveled mess, dark marks covered his neck and most of his chest from what could be seen of his unbuttoned shirt. She gave Queenie a sly smirk as she stood to greet him, a smirk of her own on her face.
“Well we let you in here don’t we?” she teased. G-Dragon chuckled, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek. He shot Leeteuk a wink as he did so, enjoying seeing him get worked up from a small action. Suho leaned over to whisper to Leeteuk, calming him down somewhat.
CL, G-Dragon’s second in command, sat next to Suho. She had at least followed Queenie’s request. Her curled, blonde hair fell over one shoulder, exposing her back and drawing attention to cleavage. She kept her eyes focused between Queenie, Leeteuk, and G-Dragon. She flicked her wrist, glancing down at her watch.
Suho, despite his best efforts to keep a bored air around him, watched CL carefully. He took in her poised posture and the unreadable mask that hid her emotions too well. He took in how her dress exposed her back, letting his eyes trail down the length of her spine. He felt his blood heat up the longer he stared at her back.
“I’m so glad we could have this little sit down,” Queenie said. She watched both men carefully, observing their subtle glances at one another. “I think it’s about time you two put this silly feud to rest.” Both men tensed at the statement, avoiding each other’s eyes. “JB, if you will.” JB cleared his throat, regarding each man and their associates.
“Queenie and I agree that the best way to show peace is to build trust. We’ve talked with each of you separately and from that we’ve come up with a plan. G-Dragon is being gracious enough to send someone to stay in the SM District for one year with absolutely no contact.”
“How exactly does that establish trust?” Suho inquired, leaning forward so his arms rested on his knees. “If anything, that causes more trust issues. One year to gather information to be used against us? I’m failing to see how that works in our favor.”
“Well firstly, the agreement is that our person lives with you for a year without any harm,” CL said, turning to look at Suho. “Meaning if you want to keep them locked in a dungeon, as long as they’re fed and clean, you can do so. Second, we’re not sending just anyone. He’s sending in his only living relative to live with someone he hasn’t gotten along with in years. If anything, that’s the most trust I’ve seen him give anyone.” Suho and Leeteuk both stared at her in shock.
“I wasn’t aware you had any family,” Leeteuk said.
“It’s not something I like to advertise. People like to use them against you. I’m sure you more than anyone can understand that,” he replied. “Now I’m sending them to show my complete trust. If and when they return, as long as they’re in good health and have been treated with respect and dignity they deserve, then I will let bygones be bygones.”
Leeteuk regarded G-Dragon carefully. Something wasn’t sitting right in the pit of his stomach. This seemed too easy. After years of them being at each other’s throats, G-Dragon was going to gift wrap his own blood to him? Leeteuk narrowed his eyes slightly, his fist tightening around his glass.
“I wouldn’t read too much into such a generous offer,” Queenie said. She leant forward, facing Leeteuk directly. “He’s giving you unsupervised access to the closest person to him, and all you have to do is keep them healthy and safe. If anything, I think you’re getting the better side of this deal.” She placed her hand on his knee again, tilting her head slightly and staring up at him with her big, round eyes.
“Unsupervised?” Suho said.
“Yes. One whole year of unsupervised access to them. YG will have absolutely no access to them while they stay with you,” JB said, shooting Queenie a pointed look.
“Don’t mistake me for a blissfully blind fool, Leeteuk,” G-Dragon said, pulling Leeteuk’s attention away from Queenie. “I don’t expect you to trust me or my family. So as a sign of good faith, they’re going in unaccompanied. Even their own personal bodyguard won’t be with them. That’s how you’re going to show me your trust. Return them to me unharmed and in good health, treat them like family, or at least better than the men you’ve so graciously returned to me before, and I won’t murder everyone in your district.” Leeteuk clenched his jaw. Suho leant over, lowering his voice.
“Wait. We can use this to our advantage. How much information do you think our people could get out of him? Who would know his deep secrets better than his own blood?” Leeteuk weighed Suho’s words carefully, slowly relaxing into his seat.
“So you want me to keep them for one year, three-hundred and sixty-five days, and then return them safely?” Leeteuk clarified. G-Dragon nodded, moving to lean back into his seat. Leeteuk drummed his fingers on the armrest, staring at G-Dragon thoughtfully. Something still didn’t feel right, but Suho had a point. His second in command gave him a subtle nod. Leeteuk smiled smugly, tossing his hands up slightly. “I have to agree with you Queenie, I’m definitely getting the better deal.”
G-Dragon smirked, outstretching his hand. Leeteuk grabbed it, giving him a firm handshake. Queenie clapped her hands together, a genuine smile on her face. JB let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Suho and CL shared a knowing look before turning back to the two leaders.
“I’m so happy everything’s worked out,” Queenie said, moving to stand up. “Now, I believe you gentlemen and lady have earned a night of relaxation. My club is all yours to enjoy.” She turned to G-Dragon, a smirk on her face. “I believe A is waiting for you downstairs.” G-Dragon returned her smirk, running a hand through his hair. Leeteuk held his hand up to the two District leaders.
“As much as I would love to, I should get back.” He and Suho, along with their bodyguards, headed towards the door. He paused briefly, turning to look back. “Just one quick question,” he said. “Who exactly is this relative of yours?” G-Dragon smiled, a genuine, scarily normal smile.
