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#i guess the story would be different now since her one of my friends who was also part of the story is now her GF
marriedtobigfoot · 1 year
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Part two of this story, where Robin discovers Steve’s type. A lot of people seemed interested in more, so here you go! 
The conversation doesn’t go quite the way Robin is expecting it. She’s fully prepared for Steve to launch into saying how confused he is because he’s feeling weird pants feelings for Eddie, but how does that work because he likes girls? She’s been mentally preparing herself for that exact discussion since she watched Eddie Munson call her best friend ‘Big Boy’ in the middle of committing grand theft auto. So when Steve starts talking, curled up on the gross linoleum tile of Family Video, she’s taken by surprise. She doesn’t even get the chance to answer his question before he’s throwing her prepared speech out the metaphorical window. 
“That’s stupid, you already told me that. Sharon Parker in the 5th grade, holding hands for Red Rover, blah blah blah, I know that. But like…Have you ever acted different around a girl, and then one day, you realize it’s because you like her? Like, you had a crush on a girl without even realizing it? Does that make any sense?” 
It takes Robin a second to reboot, but the second she manages, Steve throws her even further off track. 
“It’s just, Tommy H came by the other day, and he said some stuff that really has me thinking and-” 
Robin can’t stop herself. As soon as she hears a name other than Eddie Munson, she has a hand out covering Steve’s mouth. He gives her a look, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed. She valiantly ignores him because what he just said has her head spinning, and she needs to put a stop to it right now. 
“Steve. My best friend in the whole universe. I’m here for whatever you need and whatever you might be figuring out about yourself. You know I’m going to support you 100% no matter what happens but…Please. PLEASE tell me that you didn’t just discover you have a crush on TOMMY H! He isn’t even your type, Steve! He isn’t even in the ballpark of your type! He’s so far off it’s honestly kind of laughable and-” 
Now it’s Steve who puts a hand over her mouth. 
“Jesus, Robin! First of all, gross. I’m not into Tommy, okay? Never gonna happen, not in a million years. And second, what the hell do you mean ‘my type?’ What the hell would you know about my type?” 
Robin carefully removes his hand from her face and shakes her head. She has absolutely no clue where this conversation is going, but there’s still a chance it can work its way somewhere good. Somewhere Munson-related. And she owes it to Steve to listen to his crisis properly. 
“Nevermind, forget that. What happened with Tommy?” 
“Okay well, he came over, like I said. He was super wasted, and I guess he and Carol broke up? And he started talking about when we were friends, and how he always used to try and get closer to me. He said he almost asked me if I wanted to practice kissing once? And he talked about like, trying to touch me all the time, trying to make me laugh? Basically saying he had a crush on me, which was super weird.” 
Robin nodded, because really, she had no idea what to say to that. 
“And then he kissed me. Which was kind of gross because he tasted like whisky and he was being all sloppy, like he wanted to eat my face. But…” 
“But?” 
“It wasn’t as gross as I would have expected I guess.” 
“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” 
“I don’t! It just, wasn’t a totally horrible kiss okay? Only a little horrible.” 
Robin sighed and let her head tip back against the wall. 
“Okay, I’m not seeing your dilemma yet. Tommy liking you and kissing you is kind of weird sure, but it doesn’t change anything about you.” 
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a puff of air. He looked small in this bathroom, scared in a way that Robin hated. They had faced down monsters, torture, long shifts with Keith. A conversation with his best friend should never have Steve looking that afraid, ever. 
She reached out and took his hand in her, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“Hey, it’s okay Steve. Tell me what’s going on in that head.” 
“It’s just…Some of what Tommy said. About how he tried to get closer to me, to touch me and make me laugh and shit? I guess I realized that I’m doing that stuff. With somebody else. And if Tommy did it because he liked me then…” 
“You think it might mean you like this person. This…guy?” 
“Yeah. This guy.” 
There it was, the Eddie Munson of it all. Because Robin only knew of one guy that Steve spent his time with and would be trying to be touchy and close with. She had watched it happen with her own eyes, the way Steve would look for reasons to lean past Eddie, to put a hand on his shoulder, his back, once getting brave and putting a hand on his waist. She’d watched Eddie do the exact same things around Steve, too.
Part of her almost just comes out and tells Steve, that she knows who he’s talking about. Except he still looks unsure. He looks like he wants to throw up a little, and Robin has to fix that. 
“You know it’s okay right? For you to like this guy?” 
“I know. It’s just weird, to realize I might like him that way. Normally I can figure out when I’m into someone.” 
“Well, normally you aren’t friends with the people you’re into first. That makes it confusing.” 
“And I’m normally into people with boobies.” 
“That too.” 
Steve lets out a tiny laugh, and it makes Robin beam. Something about Steve is lighter now, like somethings been lifted off his chest, something that’s been there for a really long time without him knowing. She wants to tell him how much she’s loves him. How much she cares about him and supports him. She wants to tell him about all her research, and fully explain to him her findings when it comes to ‘his type.’ 
She wants to tell him that she knows the guy he likes is Eddie. That she thinks Eddie might like him too. 
The ‘ring for service’ bell ruins her chance at saying any of it. 
She and Steve both clamber off the floor, adjusting their vests before exiting the bathroom to greet whoever keeps ringing the stupid bell over and over again. Robin can’t decide if it’s the best luck in the world, or the worst, when it’s Eddie Munson himself standing at the counter. 
She leans towards best luck when she sees the way Steve’s cheeks go red.
A few people asked to be tagged if I did a part 2, so hopefully I do that right! I’ve got a few more parts planned, so if anybody else wants to be tagged let me know and I’ll do my best!
@kaiscove​ @wolfstarlights​  @awkwardgravity1​ @anonymousbandgirl​  @f1ct1onwh0re
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heesdreamer · 1 year
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SUNSHINE
PAIRING ➩ basketball player heeseung x cheerleader reader
WARNINGS ➩ um its super rough smut lol
WC ➩ 5k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ i hate both short works and straight smut but i guess that vlog got to me so here you go NOT PROOFREAD also i don’t like writing the boys completely out of character and i do not think hs would say or do half of these things lol but for the sake of the story
“You might just be the least positive cheerleader of all time.”
You were turning your head to the side to glare at the voice suddenly appearing from your left, sighing and rolling your eyes when you spotted who it was and going back to your position with your arms crossed on the side of the court as the game continued on.
“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all smiley and ‘go team’?” Heeseung was continuing on even though you were clearly ignoring him, something you did every time he attempted to bug you during the games and rile you up enough to get a reaction.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on the court and not sat next to me on the bench?” You were snapping back at him and you quickly glanced at him before looking away when you saw the familiar smirk creeping up on his face.
Heeseung was definitely not a bench warmer, far from it considering he was practically the star of your schools basketball team and he knew you were aware of this. That still didn’t stop him from occasionally allowing the coach to switch him out so he could come and sit near the cheerleaders, seemingly finding a lot of mid game entertainment in you and your cold reactions.
You’d gone to school with him for most of your life but you never really noticed him until high school started and you joined the cheerleading team under the pressuring words of your mom.
She’d been one when she was your age and she claimed it to be the sole reason she loved high school, the place where she met all of her friends and eventually your father when he transferred their junior year. You’d pretty much expected to be forced into it since you were a child and now on your fourth and final year, you were more so just going through the motions.
Your stoic, and borderline aggressive, personality mixed with the image of you in a small glittery skirt and your hair sporting a giant obnoxious bow in your schools representative colors, seemed to catch the attention of the star player and he hadn’t left you alone since.
“When would I get to talk to you if I wasn’t on the bench?” He was leaning sideways towards you and you frowned softly, trying to ignore him and the stupid smirk sticking to his face now. “It’s not like you stop for me in the hallways.”
“Have you tried taking a hint?” You were once again harshly spitting the words at him and you felt a bit frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep your composure like normal, already stressed from an intense workload and the building pressure of graduation as it approached. “Why can’t you go bother your fan club, I’m sure they’d be more than willing.”
Heeseung definitely didn’t have the same concerns as you and you didn’t necessarily blame him. It isn’t his fault he was immediately offered full ride sport scholarships to multiple different schools and as much as you hated to admit it, he worked hard for his success and he deserved it.
That fact still didn’t make it any less annoying that he was constantly bugging you with his quick comments about your attitude or his countless attempts to flirt with you, asking for your number or sending you Valentine’s Day singing grams every year since you’d met, even though you’d stormed into the cafeteria freshman year and dumped his soda on his head for humiliating you.
He hadn’t gotten upset and started to dislike you like you had hoped for, instead he smiled and moved his wet hair out of his face before asking if you liked the flowers he’d left at your locker.
“Why would I do that? You know you’re my favorite, sunshine.” His tone was lower now and the nickname fell from his lips casually, routine by now considering how much he said it despite the fact you told him to knock it off every single time he used it.
You were sparing him once last glare before turning back towards the game and ignoring the fact he was a lot closer to you now, one small sideways scoot away from being off the bench and on the same bleacher seat you were on.
He was persistent to a point that you could almost admire and you’d never be foolish enough to deny that he was almost stupidly attractive but that didn’t change anything for you. You had too many differences for you to be truly interested and it didn’t help that he smelt like sweat almost every single time you saw him.
Plus, you weren’t lying about his fan club and you already had to deal with numerous sharp glares and mean whispers throughout the years and that was without you reciprocating the interest.
You’d long associated the boy with negative things so it was pretty common for you to greet his smiley face with an eye roll or a straight up sneer, trying your hardest to ignore him but typically falling into a small session of half bickering half flirting before he was giving up again and leaving you to sit and seethe. You couldn’t even escape him at home either, something you were especially aware of right now.
It was two hours into trying to get some homework done and your patience was wearing thin the longer the sound of the basketball outside continued on.
You just so happened to be in the universes shit list and you lived directly across from a park in the neighborhood. You’d been excited when you first moved in, being able to play constantly when you were younger and eventually developing it into a nice place to sit and relax after school. You would have solo picnics under one of the big trees or just go and listen to music laying in the grass.
That is until Lee Heeseung also moved into the neighborhood, starting off your sophomore year with a big obnoxious moving truck on the other side of the park and what followed nearly drove you insane.
He was outside nearly every single day after school and practice, no matter if it was cold or hot, rain or snow. What once had been a calming spot for you to unwind was quickly overtaken by the sound of rubber against cement and you stopped going the day he started.
Sometimes he’d wave at you from the court, catching sight of you glaring down at him from your open bedroom window, but he never made any attempts to talk to you or invite you to join him unlike he did in school and neither of you ever mentioned the fact you were neighbors during your little moments of heated conversation. You learned to ignore him over time but you were particularly stressed recently and before you knew it you were letting out an annoyed yell before marching out of your room.
You’d barely processed the fact you were moving as you tugged a hoodie over your head and slipped on your boots, heading out the door and slamming it as you passed through.
Some of your fire had disappeared by the time you were actually pushing out into the cold night air and crossing the empty street, your steps becoming more hesitant as you entered the park and approached the basketball court, realizing you were going to have to actually speak to him. He didn’t look over as you got closer and your frown appeared again at the sweat gleaming from his skin, his neck red and agitated like he was pushing himself past his limit.
“Do you ever go home?” You were asking before you had decided it was a good idea and you were almost as surprised as he was to hear your voice, jumping slightly at the same time he did as he whipped around to look at you.
He looked confused for a second when he saw you standing there on the court with your hands stuffed in your pockets but when he seemingly processed it was you, he was breaking into a small smile.
You watched him as he continued to pant and try and catch his breath to be able to respond to you, sighing in the meantime and taking a few step backwards so you could sit on one of the benches and stare up at him in the middle of the court.
“Almost didn’t recognize you without your pretty little skirt, sunshine.” His response was eventually coming and it immediately pulled an eye roll from you despite the fact your stomach flipped as he took a few steps in your direction, tucking his basketball under his arm routinely and watching you with amusement and interest.
“Yeah well…” You couldn’t think of a good comeback as he continued to get closer and you inwardly blamed it on the cold.
“Did you come to cheer me on?” He was asking in a soft voice but it had a mocking hint to it, not necessarily mean but potentially bitter and you stared up at him as his eyebrow cocked. “My own personal cheerleader?”
You were trying to get a good read on his expression but it wasn’t making any sense to you, his face lacking it’s usual lightheartedness and almost looking conflicted as he watched you and seemingly waited for you to finally think of a witty response. You didn’t have one, thrown off by both his strange demeanor and having a conversation in an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed at your sudden loss for words.
He wasn’t saying anything further and you would’ve sighed in relief if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching you so intensely, eventually sitting beside you on the bench and you tensed up when you felt his thigh pressing against yours.
“You didn’t have to stop playing.” You were eventually muttering and you would’ve been more self conscious about your out of character behavior if he wasn’t already being so strange.
“Yeah I did.” He was sighing and you turned your head to look at him, being met with his side profile as he stared straight ahead towards the court and ignored the fact you were staring at him. “You’re a distraction.”
A laugh was bursting from your lips accidentally, almost a scoff and you cut it off short by covering your mouth and giggling out an apology when he shot you a sideways glare. You were shaking your head and trying to gather yourself before clearing your throat softly. “You see me every time you play, never been a distraction then.”
“Are you kidding me?” Now it was his turn to laugh but it was a lot more dry than yours and almost sarcastic sounding, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. “You don’t think seeing you in that outfit every game is a distraction?”
He was finally looking at you now and your face flushed at how close that made you, nearly touching noses if either of you leaned forward slightly but you stayed perfectly still and scanned over his face as you tried to take in his words. You would’ve thought he was joking around and doing his usual rounds of mindless flirting but his tone was flat and his face remained serious, even as you watched him curiously.
You weren’t exactly sure how to respond and your words felt caught in your dry throat, letting down your guard for just a second too long and being struck with nerves.
“A good distraction?” You were eventually pushing out and your voice lifted in a curious tilt, his serious face breaking into a small smile again at the sound of your soft question and hesitant tone, two things he rarely heard from you.
“Yeah sunshine, it’s good.”
——
You spent the next two days avoiding Heeseung as much as you can, having ended the night in some more whispered small talk before he was resuming practice and you were eventually slipping off back to your house once the cold became too much for your hands and nose.
It was weirdly nice to watch him play in a place where he wasn’t obviously trying to show off and under the pressures of competition, watching the skillful way he moved and the sweat that continued to reflect off his deep tanned skin despite the bitter cold touching on yours.
You still felt awkward for having interrupted him and it didn’t help that you had finally played into his flirting for once, mistakenly letting your guard down once you saw him in a more neutral environment and you felt extremely embarrassed about the whole entire encounter. You were telling yourself it had nothing to do with the fact he made your face flush every time he leaned closer or the way your stomach flipped as he talked about your skirt distracting him.
Sadly, you couldn’t stay away from him for long considering a school year quarter pep rally was approaching and everybody involved needed to come to the gymnasium to practice together, including both the cheerleaders and the basketball team.
You frequented the gym a lot more regularly than other students and were pretty used to being in front of a crowd or performing routines to all of your peers but you could tell some of the clubs who would be involved were feeling nervous, striking up conversation with one of the boys from the dance club to try and ease his nerves.
The conversation was entirely friendly and even a little bit awkward considering you barely knew him and he was a lot younger than you but little did you know, Heeseung was watching you from across the gym and making his own assumptions about the interaction.
You completely missed the way his jaw was clenching as he watched the two of you laugh, you instinctively leaning forward and touching the boys arm as a comforting gesture and giving further reason for the hard glare being sent your way from the other side of the room. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been speaking to him and had went right back to actively avoiding him, he’d been overthinking it and looking forward to talking to you about his worries today since you had to be in close proximity.
So it was driving him crazy that you still hadn’t approached him and even worse, you were too caught up in a conversation with some kid he didn’t bother to place a name to.
Eventually the first round of practice was going to start soon and Heeseung watched as your coach said something to you briefly, stared as you nodded in acceptance and then wandered off to go and gather whatever it was that she had asked for.
He was following behind you without even thinking about it, completely ignoring the calls from his teammates asking where he was going and urging him to hurry up before the run through started. You were heading back towards the storage lockers where there was plenty of extra balls and uniforms, anything that might be needed during a game or an event.
You were barely thinking about the basketball player during this whole time, too distracted with the busyness of the day, but he immediately came to mind when you felt something pressing up against you from behind after entering the storage room that was tucked behind the large indoor bleachers.
“What are you doing?” You were grumbling out to him in your usual annoyed tone even though your stomach was flipping at the fact he was actually touching you for once, something he rarely did despite his constant advances.
He wasn’t fully pressed against you but just enough so that you could feel his clothing near yours, you could sense his large frame looming over you and practically caging you in near the wall you’d been passing when he arrived. You shifted slightly so you could turn your head to look over your shoulder and glare up at him when he didn’t respond.
“Who’s the kid?” He was responding and his voice was lower than usual, lacking it’s typical lightness and humor that came along whenever he felt like teasing you.
“Don’t be jealous of a freshman, it’s not a good look on you.” You were shaking your head and sighing, turning back to look at the shelf and try your best to ignore him despite your alarming awareness to how close the two of you were.
It was only increasing when his hand was finally touching you, snaking forward and resting against your hip in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you lose your nonchalant demeanor for just a split second before you were attempting to compose yourself again. He was just holding onto your hip, his hand large enough that his fingertips were pressing into your stomach.
You didn’t say anything as he touched you and you still didn’t when he was tugging you backwards softly, pulling your bottom half against his instead of fully pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second at the feeling of him but you didn’t want him to see the obvious effect he had over you.
You were wearing a hoodie over your cheerleading uniform and half of his hand was underneath it so he could feel the hem of your skirt properly, bunching up the thick fabric around his arm slightly. He’d only pulled your lower half backwards so you were partially bent over now, barely enough to be noticiable but the implication made your cheeks burn.
“Why would I be jealous?” He was finally asking and his voice didn’t cut the tension at all, if anything worsening it. “Wasn’t him you were thinking about when you put this on.”
A scoff was falling from your lips at his sudden claim, despite how true it was considering you’d stared in the mirror particularly long this morning thinking about Heeseung calling you a distraction. Your careless attitude wasn’t holding too strong especially since he was squeezing your hip bone softly, your body instinctively pushing back further against him and causing your breath to stutter.
You felt slightly dizzy from the feeling of him against you so intimately, mixed with the fact that he had obviously been jealous over something as simple as you having a conversation. It should’ve annoyed you like it normally did but your heart raced slightly instead and you placed your hands against the wall subconsciously.
He took that as a cue to bend you over more, bringing his other hand up to your empty hip and using both of them to tug you fully backwards by the waist so you were flushed against him.
“Why are you wearing this?” He was suddenly asking and you were confused for a second before you felt him tugging on your large hoodie, childish annoyance in his tone at the fact most of your uniform was covered up.
You laughed softly at his whining, your voice embarrassingly affected and breathless. “Didn’t want to be a distraction.”
“That’s bullshit, you like knowing I’m watching you.” He was mumbling again now and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not really caring if you heard him. He was taking another step forward now and you could feel him more now, your head falling forward at the realization he was hard against you. “You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?”
You considered not answering for a second and lowering his ego but he was slightly shifting backwards and releasing the pressure and a wave of panic ran through you.
“Yes yes I would.” You were rushing out and moving backwards to try and feel him again, ignoring the soft chuckle he gave and the way he squeezed your desperate hips in amusement. “You know I would.”
“Always so mean to me sunshine.” His voice was mocking again like it was the other night at the park and you were slightly thrown off by his change of demeanor, not expecting the roughness from the boy who was always big smiles and loud laughter everytime you’d seen him. He was bordering mean at times with his rough touches and provoking voice but you didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs if you were less clothed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mean Hee.” Your voice was high and whiny but you were too turned on to be embarrassed, knowing how pathetic you must look.
“Show me how sorry you are.” He was instructing and you paused for a second, not exactly sure what he meant until he was lessening his hold on your hips. “Fuck yourself against me.”
Your breath was catching in your throat again and you let out a soft whine, one of your hands on the wall sliding down it slightly as you almost lost your balance.
He wasn’t exactly radiating patience and you were beyond desperate so you wasted no time in giving him what he wanted, pushing yourself back against him harder and crying out when you felt that he wanted it as much as you did, almost painfully hard now. His hips instinctively moved forward to meet yours but he immediately froze and stopped, letting you do all the work as you continued to roll your hips against him and try to get some sort of relief.
It wasn’t nearly enough for you, barely enough pressure for you to feel him and imagine how deep he would feel inside you but not enough to actually help you out in your building desperation, overwhelmed with longing for him as your hand fell off the wall and reach back to grab into his wrist.
“Please, I need you to touch me please.” You were begging him and a soft cry sunk into your voice, your head spinning with how bad you wanted to feel him anywhere.
“Fuck look at you.” He was grunting out before caving into your request, pulling you up softly and walking forward so now your entire body was pressed against the wall.
The cement was cold on your cheek and it would’ve been too uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the immediate distraction he was providing, his large hand slipping under your hoodie and aggressively groping your chest. His knuckles must’ve been rubbing against the wall but he didn’t show any signs of caring about the pain, twisting your hard nipple in his fingers and humping himself against you.
Your head was falling backwards to land on his shoulder, panting and letting out streams of high pitched whines as he roughly played with your mounds and thrusted against your skirt covered core.
He was using his free hand to reach over and grip your chin, holding it tightly between his fingers and turning your face so he could sloppily kiss you from where you laid on his shoulder. You were happily humming into his mouth despite the amateurish way you were moving against each other, more combined teeth and swapped spit than an actual kiss.
You could feel it dripping down your chin as he licked into your mouth, completely filthy and dirtier than you ever imagined him being. It was driving you absolutely insane and you’d completely forgotten about where you were or the fact people were expecting you back, the door not locked and accesible to anyone who came looking for you.
“Want you inside me Hee, please.” You were crying out into the kiss and he was only pulling back enough so you could speak, watching you with hooded eyes and parted lips and he tried to catch his breath and process what you were begging for. “I need you so bad, I can’t breathe.”
“Want me to fuck you sunshine?” His mocking tone was back and he squeezed your chest aggressively to emphasize his words, rutting against you in a sharp thrust that sent you harder into the wall again. He ignored your shocked cry and did it again before laying another wet kiss against your mouth. “Tell me baby, go on and beg for me.”
“I’ll do anything please, anything.” You were nearly sobbing now as you desperately tried to appeal to him, rocking yourself backwards into his hard cock to try and get him riled up enough to snap. “Need your cock in me so bad, do anything.”
Your words were slurred and mainly gibberish by now but it seemed to be enough for him, he cursed under his breath as he watched you desperately beg for him and you barely had time to process the fact he was moving before he was tugging down his basketball shorts and pressing your face against the wall again.
You moaned sharply into the cold cement and you were grateful it muffled it slightly considering you only got louder once he was roughly pulling up your skirt, ripping down your panties in one go and not bothering to warn or prep you before he was pressing the head of his hard cock against your entrance.
“Next time I’ll take my time with you, make you fall apart for me slow.” He was muttering in your ear as he lined himself up, pressing forward slightly and covering your mouth with his head when you let out a loud cry. “Can’t wait anymore though, gonna fuck you like the slut you are.”
You were nodding enthusiastically at his demeaning words, the more coherent part of you fluttering with butterflies at the fact he was already thinking about a next time that wasn’t so rushed. You had no issue with him simply fucking you now, feeling like you’d die if he spent another second teasing you or building up to it.
He was finally pushing himself fully inside you and your legs would’ve gave out if it wasn’t for his arm that was snaking around your stomach and his heavy weight pressing you against the wall, practically suffocating you as you lost your breath from the feeling of his complete length inside of you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He was hissing out between gritted teeth and you instinctively clenched around him at the comment, satisfaction rolling through you when he groaned at the feeling. “No idea how long I thought about this.”
“Then show me.” You were snapping out, immediately hearing him laugh as your usual attitude resurfaced for a second, quickly growing impatient the longer he stayed still inside of you.
You were quickly taking back any anger you had when he was pulling out of you, almost all the way, before slamming his entire length back in. You could feel him so deep that you almost couldn’t catch a breath, bucking forward and your mouth parting in a silent cry that was immediately interrupted when he started to fuck into you at a fast pace.
He gave you no time to adjust to his thick size and you were grateful for it, the rough burn of him stretching you being exactly what you needed after years of bickering and teasing with him. It was beyond what you could’ve imagined, all that tension finally bursting into relief as he fucked you so rough you’d surely be coated in bruised by the time the pep rally actually rolled around.
You’d gone completely dumb and you knew he had too, holding his composure just enough to continue his aggressive thrust but losing all ability to tease you or make more comments towards your behavior.
He was holding you tightly against him and you almost wished you were somewhere more private so you could see him undressed, suddenly overcome with the need to feel his skin against yours and be completely covered in his warmth. You tried to ignore the unusually soft thought towards him and focus on how good he was making you feel, the familiar tight coil building in your stomach as he continued to fuck into you deep and rough.
“Please please.” You were begging again but you weren’t even sure what for at this point, your mouth just moving on instinctively so he didn’t stop under any circumstances.
“I know baby I know.” His voice was more gentle than it had been before but still just as tight and overwhelmed, definitely reaching the end rapidly himself like you were and trying his hardest to prolong it considering how good you felt as you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. “Squeezing my cock so good sunshine, you’re so perfect for me.”
“For you, just for you.” You were quickly responding to the casual possessiveness he had showed and this seemed to affect him more than anything, his hips faltering for a second in their assault before he was fucking into you even harder than you thought was possible. He clearly liked hearing you claim yourself as his own and you felt overwhelming dizzy at the realization.
It was a complete blur now as he fucked into you, coming undone faster than you ever had before and blacking out for a few seconds from the pleasure of him doing the same inside of you. You were too out of your head to care about the fact he had came inside of you and you didn’t even think about it.
You were immediately worried it would be awkward once you were coming back to your senses but then you processed the fact that Heeseung was placing soft kisses against your neck, turning you around gently so you were finally facing him and you felt a bit emotional from how kind he was being now after he’d just taken you so aggressively.
You were definitely in some sort of dropped space after the intensity you’d just been through because you were kissing him suddenly, happy you’d had him in that way but now feeling like you’d missed out on seeing him from this point of view.
He was grateful accepting the kiss and tugging you forward by your lower back, the same place he’d been holding but very different context now as he softly moved his mouth against yours and brushed your hair out of your face.
“Are you going to let me take you on a date now?” He was asking into the kiss and you pulled back to laugh softly, laying your head down on his shoulder and feeling the way they lifted as he chuckled at your reaction.
“Yeah hotshot… I’m sure we can work that out.”
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yuyu1024 · 3 months
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Escape
Pairings: Yoongi × y/n
Genre/tags: Arranged marriage
Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence
~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 5.8k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note: continuation of Prisoner.
I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.
(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)
***
Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.
Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.
At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.
But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.
"Excuse me?"
You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.
"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.
"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks
"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest
She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."
You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.
"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."
"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."
"It's fine. I understand."
She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.
"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."
As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.
You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.
You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.
Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.
"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past
"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."
She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."
Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.
'Is she an ex of his?'
'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'
I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.
Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.
"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.
"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"
You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.
You turn around immediately before she could response again.
This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.
You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.
You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.
You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.
"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.
"How... do you know who I am?"
He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass
"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"
He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."
"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"
"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"
You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.
He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.
1. Don't cut your hair short
2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him
3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard
4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)
5. Use the safeword during sex
And etc.
The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.
"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.
After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.
As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.
Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?
These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.
They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.
Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?
Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.
"What are you doing here?"
Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.
He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.
You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?
"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up
"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.
"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.
"You know... you can't drink."
"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly
"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."
Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.
Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.
"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds
Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.
Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.
"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.
That was it?
"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.
"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.
Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.
"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him
***
"Get in." He orders you
Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.
"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.
"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.
We are now isolated.
He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.
"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say
He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."
Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?
Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.
This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.
"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."
"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."
He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.
"Wait..."
He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.
"I'm sorry..."
"What for?" He asks
"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper
Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.
"He might hear us..." you whisper
"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.
***
After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.
"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."
They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.
"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.
Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.
"Y/n..."
You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.
"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"
"Why?"
He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.
"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.
Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.
Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.
"Aren't you getting in?"
You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.
"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.
After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.
Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders
"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.
"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."
"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.
'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.
"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes
You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.
*pings*
The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.
"Where are you going?" He asks
"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."
"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.
"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.
"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.
"W-what? Why?"
He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.
"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.
"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"
Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."
***
[Flashback to Yoongi's side]
(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)
Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.
However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.
"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.
"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.
"I see."
One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.
"Look who's here."
"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.
"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"
"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.
"It is, Sir. By--"
"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."
"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."
She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.
"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."
You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.
"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."
You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.
You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.
Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.
"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."
[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]
*************
"Miss..."
Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.
"Miss..."
You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.
"It's noon Miss..."
"Oh."
It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.
You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.
"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."
"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble
"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.
"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."
"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.
"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave
"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."
"Sure."
You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.
What happened? You don't know.
The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.
Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.
When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.
And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.
"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.
"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.
"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged
He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.
"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"
"Y-yes..."
"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."
"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.
His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.
"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.
You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.
"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.
And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.
It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.
And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.
You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.
"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.
You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.
"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"
You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?
After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.
How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.
"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."
*********
"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.
Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.
"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.
"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie
All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.
"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."
Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"
"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."
"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.
"Twenty."
"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."
"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.
"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."
He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.
"Understood." The man replies
"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks
"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.
"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.
"Nothing, Sir."
"Just spit it out."
The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice
And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.
"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."
"So? What's your point?"
"It's just lately...."
Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.
"What are you implying? Just... say it."
Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."
"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.
*****
"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.
To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.
You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.
"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"
You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer
"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.
"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."
She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.
You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.
It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.
"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.
"The middle one." You says.
You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.
"Ahm, Miss...?"
"Yes?"
"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"
"Hmm... what did he say?"
"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."
"Did he say if he wants to see me?"
The maid didn't answer.
"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."
"Understood." She bows and exists the room.
"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."
Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.
"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."
Part 3 - Twilight
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bitterkarella · 2 months
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Midnight Pals: Dogs
Clive Barker: now everyone i want you all to welcome a real scary story by dodie smith Poe: um clive Poe: is this really appropriate Barker: oh yeah trust me this is gonna be REAL scary Barker: for dean Poe: are you doing this to torment dean Barker: whaaaat Barker: i would never
Dodie Smith: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the woman who kidnaps dogs Dean Koontz: what?! Koontz: you guys Koontz: you know I like scary stories Koontz: but you didn't tell me it was gonna be THIS scary
Barker: ahh poor dean, is this too much for you? Barker: i guess you could just go to bed and leave this one for the big kids Koontz: n-no Koontz: no i can take it King: that's the spirit dean King: you can do it
Dodie Smith: so there's this woman who kidnaps dogs Koontz: that's fine, i can handle this Smith: because she wants to skin them for a coat Koontz: guysssss Koontz: guyssss i hate thisss Barker: ah ha ha Poe: oh really clive this is too much
Smith: so the important thing is there's this guy mr dearly Smith: now the government lets him live tax free for life cuz he solved a really hard math problem King: King: uh King: i don't think that's the way that works
Smith: no no that's legit i checked Smith: that's how we do it in the UK King: King: clive? Barker: That doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about math to dispute it
Smith: so anyway mr dearly marries this woman Smith: and his dog marries her dog Smith: also they both have nannies Koontz: do the nannies also get married? Smith: haha of course not dean they're both ladies Smith: nanny butch and nanny femme are just really good platonic friends
Smith: but there's a problem Smith: the dearlys adopt ANOTHER dalmatian, perdita Smith: and this dog Smith: is NOT married Barker: and that's a problem huh? Smith: OF COURSE IT'S A PROBLEM Smith: you can't just have this dog slutting it up around town!
Smith: so the married dogs, pongo and missus, go on a merry adventure to save their puppies from the insane woman who wants to skin them for a coat Smith: and when the adventure is over Smith: they need to buy a bigger house to home all their 97 puppies
Smith: luckily mr dearly solved another problem to help the government pay its taxes Poe: wait why does the government have to pay taxes Smith: oh we do things differently in the UK Poe: yeah, evidently
Smith: perdita's original owners come back Smith: and the dearlys are afraid that they'll want perdita back Smith: but they're all "oh we didn't actually like her all that much, you can keep her" Koontz: wait someone doesn't like a dog? Koontz: this is breaking my immersion
Smith: but then some other people come by and they have a dog too Smith: and it turns out that this is perdita's dog husband! Smith: and these people are all "oh, i guess you can have this dog" Smith: "you know, since they're already dog married"
Smith: oh also the dearlys get a cat Smith: the cat also gets married Barker: christ why are all these animals getting married Smith: what, you want them living in sin? Koontz: yeah clive you want them living in sin?? Barker: i just Koontz: that would be immoral clive!!! Barker:
Smith: anyway then everyone is matched up in a nice monogamous, hetero-sex pair Smith: just the way it should be! Piers Anthony: yeah yeah now THAT'S the way you end a story!
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starlightkun · 4 months
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❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series
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You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?
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You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.
And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.
Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”
Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?
Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”
“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”
You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”
“Meet anyone?”
“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”
“Oh?”
Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.
The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.
At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”
“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”
“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”
Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”
She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”
“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”
“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”
“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”
At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.
All that was left was to make her proud.
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Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.
Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.
Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.
As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”
“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.
“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”
Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”
“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”
“He doesn’t.”
You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”
“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”
“If that’s what’ll convince you.”
“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”
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When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.
Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”
“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.
You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.
“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.
NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.
It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.
Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”
You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.
“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”
With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”
They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.
Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”
A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.
Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”
“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.
Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”
“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.
The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.
“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.
Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”
“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”
You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.
Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.
When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.
Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.
You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.
He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”
Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”
Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.
“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.
Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”
“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”
You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”
But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.
“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.
“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”
You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.
Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.
“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.
Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”
“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.
While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”
“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.
“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”
“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”
“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”
“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”
“We should hang out.”
“What?”
“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”
“I guess.”
“Then we should start right now.”
Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.
So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.
“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”
“Then tomorrow.”
“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”
“What do you do for work?”
“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”
Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”
“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”
NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”
If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.
“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”
You sighed, “It does...”
The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”
“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”
“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.
“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?
“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”
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[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]
Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.
[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]
[jeno: if that works for you, of course]
[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]
[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]
Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.
“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.
“It's just one person,” you informed her.
“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”
“Lee Jeno, apparently.”
“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”
“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”
She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”
“Right.”
Not a great idea to leave him on read.
[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]
[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]
It was less than a minute later that he replied.
[jeno: here’s my schedule]
[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]
A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.
“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.
“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”
“So far the last one seems most likely.”
With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.
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Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.
Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.
A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.
Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”
“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”
“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.
“I don’t mind—”
You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”
With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.
He didn’t.
The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.
His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.
“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.
“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”
With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.
Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.
Hopefully.
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The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.
It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.
Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.
But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.
Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.
He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”
Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.
You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.
The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.
“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.
The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.
“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.
“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”
“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.
He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”
“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”
“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.
“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”
You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.
“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.
“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.
He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”
You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.
“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.
“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”
Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.
“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”
“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”
Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”
“Hm?”
“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”
You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”
“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”
The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.
“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”
“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”
“And what about the others?”
As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.
Why you?
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Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.
Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.
“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.
“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.
The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”
You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”
He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”
“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.
The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”
“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”
Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”
“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”
“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.
There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.
“Really,” you echoed.
The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.
“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.
“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.
Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.
“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”
“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.
Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”
He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”
And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.
“Wow.”
It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”
Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.
Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”
You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”
“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”
“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.
“So you did give her a hard time.”
Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.
Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.
“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”
He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”
Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.
“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”
“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”
Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”
There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.
The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.
“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.
“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.
Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.
“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.
“Nothing.”
You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”
“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.
Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”
Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”
“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.
“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”
“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”
Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”
You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”
Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.
“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”
You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?
“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.
Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”
Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.
“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”
“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.
Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.
His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.
“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.
Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”
“Where are we going?”
He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”
It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.
“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.
“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.
“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.
“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”
“Okay…”
As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?
“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.
“Done what?”
“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”
This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.
And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.
And you panicked.
Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”
Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.
“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”
That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.
“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.
He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.
You could dream.
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“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”
You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.
Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.
“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.
“I said no,” you deadpanned.
“What?”
“Well, kind of.”
At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”
“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.
“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.
“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”
“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.
“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”
“He’s hot.”
Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.
She snorted, “That’s a problem?”
“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”
“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”
“No, never. I couldn’t.”
“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”
The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”
She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”
Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”
Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.
“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”
“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”
Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”
She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.
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You couldn’t do it.
The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.
Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.
Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.
Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.
As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.
“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.
“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.
You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.
His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”
For now.
Maybe you liked the idea of that.
“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.
“Can I at least tip?”
“Already added that on the receipt.”
“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”
He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.
Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.
And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.
You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.
With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”
Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”
Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.
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The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.
“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.
You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.
“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”
“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”
“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”
She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.
Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”
Oh, another ‘but.’
“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”
You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”
You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.
“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”
Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.
“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”
That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.
Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.
“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”
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Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.
“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”
“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.
Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”
You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.
“And she wants a second part.”
“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”
And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”
You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”
Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.
“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”
“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”
A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.
“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”
You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.
“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.
“Since now.”
You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”
“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”
That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.
Right?
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One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.
Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.
Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.
“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.
“Nothing.”
You frowned.
“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”
He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.
“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”
He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?
Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.
Right?
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On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.
All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.
As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.
But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.
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“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”
Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.
“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”
“Fine.”
“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”
He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.
“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”
“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”
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The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.
Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.
“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”
He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”
Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.
“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.
He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.
“Jeno, look at me.”
At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.
“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”
He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.
Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.
You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.
Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”
And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”
“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ve got plenty of paper.”
Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”
His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?
“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.
Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.
“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”
The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”
You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.
“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”
Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.
“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”
A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.
“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”
“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.
This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.
You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”
Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”
“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”
While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”
“Right!”
Right?
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Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.
You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.
After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.
One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.
The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.
The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.
You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.
When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.
“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.
“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.
“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”
A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”
“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”
“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”
“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”
“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He giggled.
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“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.
“Yep!”
“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”
“Yep!”
“Without a guide.”
“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”
“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”
“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”
“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”
“Now you’re being dramatic.”
You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”
“Let’s go!”
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Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.
Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.
“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.
Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.
“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”
He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”
“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”
“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”
“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.
“There you go.”
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“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.
You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.
Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.
“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.
From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.
A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.
“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”
“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”
You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”
“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”
“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”
As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”
“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.
You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”
Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.
With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”
He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.
Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.
“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.
“Nope.”
“That one?” You pointed to a different one.
“Nope.”
“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.
Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”
He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.
“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.
He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.
“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”
“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”
“A couple more minutes?”
“Yeah, of course.”
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After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.
The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.
You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.
“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.
“Who doesn’t like to travel?”
“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”
“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”
You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”
That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.
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Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”
“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.
It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.
You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.
“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.
Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”
“Yeah.”
You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.
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It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”
You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?
The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.
“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”
“When do you think that will be?”
“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”
“And the latest?”
“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”
You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.
Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.
With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.
Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”
You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.
The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.
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Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.
Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.
The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.
Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.
You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.
“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.
As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.
“Wh—”
You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?
With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.
He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.
When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.
Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”
A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.
Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.
“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”
“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”
“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.
Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”
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The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.
Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.
You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.
“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.
Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”
“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”
You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”
“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”
“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.
“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”
Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”
“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”
It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”
After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”
“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”
“I can wait three weeks.”
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And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.
“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.
“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.
As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.
The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.
At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”
“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”
“Together!” He repeated.
Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.
“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.
“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.
“It took you five days to read it.”
He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.
Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.
But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.
Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.
You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.
With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.
A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.
“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.
“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.
“I have a question…”
“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.
“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”
“Ask away.”
“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”
“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”
“Jeno, I’m sorry—”
“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”
You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”
“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”
“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”
“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”
“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.
“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”
“I love you.”
“Christ, I was joking!”
“I wasn’t!”
You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”
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⤷ blog masterlist
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hugsandchaos · 2 months
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Seeing Double
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.
*bangs pots and pans together* @vixen-uchiha, @starlightcat04, @blueliac, @lenacraft, @admiralwidow, @fuckingfaraway, @little-apricot-orchard, @sithlordchimchnga, @buymeanewlaptopty, @deeterzz, @jaylaxyart99, @phant0mc1d3, @idiosolcrasy, @dehydrated-bread, @rubber-ducky-your-the-one, @randomenglishmajor, @mushroomymoss, I MADE MORE JUICE!!!
For the past few weeks, Danielle had been staying in the Cave. After explaining the full story to Red Tornado, some of the details unknown to them for some reason, and he spoke with Batman, their friend’s clone had been given permission to live there. As long as she trained and or some sort of education. This was definitely acceptable to both ghosts. Danielle had started training, and not just with Phantom, and her brother would teach her a thing or two when they weren’t training.
Most of his lessons consisted of scenarios where she’d need to try to patch herself up incase she needed to, which she apparently didn’t know as well as he did. It was interesting how similar ectoplasm was to blood when it came to wounds. She wasn’t allowed on missions, though. That should’ve been obvious, but it actually surprised Danielle. It took a bit of arguing and convincing from Phantom to get her to understand, but she reluctantly stayed behind. She was bitter for a while and took her training a little more seriously after that. Overall, she was a great addition to her friend group.
At the moment, it was around 8:02 PM and Danielle was helping Megan cook dinner. Phantom was doing some kind of assignment on the couch with Conner sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Danielle moved around to catch the items and put them on the counter as Megan used her telekinesis to pull them from the fridge and pantry. Danielle nearly missed grabbing the glass jar of sauce, but caught it and placed it down carefully.”And, that’s all we need!” Megan said. She turned around and smiled seeing the ingredients neatly placed on the island counter.”Thanks for your help, Danielle.” She said.
The young ghost smiled.”No sweat off my back. Now how is this one made?” She asked. She enjoyed watching Megan cook, as odd as the Martian thought it was, and she hadn’t seen her use this recipe yet. Megan took another look at the tablet.
She used her telekinesis to open a cabinet and pulled a medium bowl out of it. She set it on the table as she also got a measuring cup.”We need to stir the ricotta cheese, 1/2 cup parmesan cheese, and eggs in this bowl and then set it aside.” She said. Both her and Danielle started on that first step.
On the couch, it was pleasantly quiet. Both boys left each other to their thoughts. Phantom had a notebook in his lap and a textbook set on the arm of the couch. Both the textbook and his handwriting were in a language that Phantom just settled on calling “ghost speak” since he didn’t know what else to call it due to the actual name of the language being surprisingly difficult to translate to English. Megan took a really wild guess and said that it could be a difference between being dead and being alive that made the translation difficult.
Right now, he was focused on that while Conner took the time to think. He had some conflicted feelings about the situation. On one end, he was happy. He had someone to relate to a little better. He saw that there were actually people who had good relationships with their clones, even taking them under their wing. He was more convinced that there was a chance that if his original saw the way they interacted, he might do the same.
On the other hand, however, he was jealous. Conner didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, but it was unfortunately true. He couldn’t even relate to Danielle on a level he wished he could because Phantom didn’t practically ignore her existence for her being his clone. It made him feel a little more alone than before. He also didn’t think that letting Superman meet Danielle was a good idea because Phantom was already mad at him because of what he said last time he was there.
He made the room’s temperature drop by around 20 degrees in a matter of seconds and didn’t take his eyes off the league member until he left. It was probably best to avoid both the argument that would undoubtedly happen between them and what he might say to Danielle if he found out she was also a clone.
“Are you okay?” Phantom spoke up. Conner blinked and turned to him.”Are you okay?” The ghost repeated. Conner nodded. This earned a look of suspicion from Phantom.
Oh. Right. The whole “smelling emotions” thing.
Conner briefly glanced back at the two girls chatting away, sharing stories about their experiences on Earth, then leaned in closer.”Are you going to let her meet Superman?” He asked in a hushed tone. Phantom’s gaze hardened.
He shook his head.”Absolutely not. I’d like to avoid it as much as possible.” He whispered. Conner was a little relieved to hear that. He opened his mouth again to tell him that he’d help him do that, but he was cut off.
“Hey, big bro? What happens if Megan eats ectoplasm?” Danielle called.
Phantom immediately shot up from the couch, knocking both his books and his pencil onto the floor.”No!!!” He instinctively shouted. He quickly flew over to Danielle and Megan to see if he needed to snatch anything from them. Megan laughed at him as he checked the counter. Conner couldn’t resist a small smile, either. It was pretty funny.
Danielle also laughed at him as Phantom realized there wasn’t any in the food or in their possession. He crossed his arms.”Ha, ha, very funny.” He said, obviously unimpressed. Danielle calmed down enough to speak.
“I know it’s funny! I wouldn’t actually give her ectoplasm.” She said. Phantom gave her a pretty disapproving look, but her smile didn’t falter.”I just wanted to annoy you.” She said. Phantom’s eyes widened and seemed more irritated than before. Danielle did her best not to laugh at him.
“You have five seconds to start running.” He said. The younger ghost quickly fled the room and Phantom waited, counting down from five out loud. Once he reached one, he went invisible and vanished from Megan’s and Conner’s sight.
Soon enough, they’d hear the pleading screams of a younger sibling being mercilessly chased by their older brother.
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renranram · 11 days
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Maid dress
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nsfw!!
schlatt jerking off to reader while she's streaming, obvi inspired when j bought wenston some maid outfits and people were calling him his sugar daddy lols
a/n ; 886 words :)
reader flaunts herself at the camera, spinning whilst she tries on the maid outfit schlatt had bought her, " chat, do i look pretty? " she smiles as she assembles the outfit
meanwhile schlatt was on the call with her, eyes immensely focused on her live stream, " jesus fuck, you look worse " he mutters as reader glares at him through the camera
" well, you bought this for me, so maybe it's not me who's the problem " she rolls her eyes at him as schlatt chuckles, not taking his eyes off his screen once
the two had been close friends for over a year now, meeting through, shamefully, the dsmp, the duo are very different ccs on their own, reader being more into makeup and gaming whilst schlatt's varies
ever since they first met on the server the two just sparked a connection, coming off as frenemies for the public, a banter of theirs but exactly off camera, it was a whole different story
schlatt is reader's sugar daddy
at first reader would just joke about being broke, " oh my fucking godd it's so pretty but i dont wanna waste my money ", " that's so fucking expensive ", " okay im broke " until schlatt got tired and actually offered her to be her sugar daddy
at first reader thought it was a joke, a silly new banter for them but nope!, every week, new parcels would arrive on the streamer's doorstep with small notes, but chat doesn't know that, chat doesn't need to know that
" fine, ill get you a new one done " he mumbles, as he scrolls through amazon, " anime french maid apron lolita fancy dress cosplay costume furry cat ear gloves socks set " he reads out the title causing reader to chuckle as they wear the stockings for the uniform
" oh it comes in pink " he added as reader smiles, " i like pink " she replies as schlatt scoffs, " of course you do "
as the girl sits down on her bed to wear the stockings, schlatt's eyes linger down on her bare thighs, enjoying the view as he leans back on his chair
" do you need something else too? " he mutters as reader gasps, " oh my gosh! you should buy me that uhm... blaire doll thing " she smiles as schlatt shakes his head, " blaire doll thing? " he repeats her, " the fuck is that? "
reader tries to wear the collar to complete the look, " it's like a doll! " she states as she grabs her phone to show off the picture
" that's an ugly looking doll " he mutters, as he gulps, looking down at his now hard on, unironically finding reader in a whole cat maid dress... hot
" more uglier than you are " she retorts as he chuckles, " guess no more doll for you then " schlatt replies, shrugging as reader gasps, now pouting
" im kiddingggg pleaseee buy me one? " she pleads looking at the camera as her live chat speeds up, " .. fuck.. " he groans out, not loud enough for his mic to pick up, him slowly sliding in his hand inside his shorts
" please please please " she continues, as she reads off the chat, " please jschlatt senpai " she bursts out laughing, mentally cringing as schlatt chuckles, " ..fine "
" yay! chat! we fucking wonnn! " she celebrates as she jumps around the frame, clasping her hands together, " we're the best at this shit " she shrugs, smug, unaware that the man she's in a call with is already jerking off to her
" reader.., think im gonna mute for a sec, gotta do something " he mumbles as reader nods, understanding, " bet, im gonna talk with chat for a bit " she smiles, as schlatt immediately mutes himself
" fuck.. what a fucking whore.. i didn't actually think she'd do a stream " schlatt chuckles, amused as he palms himself, as reader did what she said, interacting with her audience
" what a pretty slut holy shit " he chuckles, clearly amused as he bites his lip, his rough hand playing with his dick
" chat i look so pretty right? " reader asks, fixing her hair as chat spams yes, " you damn sure are " he mumbles, as he grabs the base of his cock, using his saliva for lube
" ah fuck, fucking.. so fucking pretty " he breathes out, his body shuddering slightly as he jerks himself off, his eyes never leaving her
" fuck.. fuck.. " schlatt throws his head back as he leans back on his chair, fastening his pace, " stupid fucking whore.. "
he moans out, lifting his shirt up, as he continues to palm himself at the sight of her, he's never gonna buy her those stupid costumes again
or maybe he'll rain her with more gifts, then maybe a flight to texas so she can show everything off to him... maybe
his lashes flutter, fastening his already fast pace as he continues to moan, " stupid fucking slut, .. shit... pretty- pretty whore " he stammers
he can feel his precum leaking as reader talks with her chat, innocent yet suggestive, that stupid maid dress, if schlatt can immediately fly to london, he fucking would, he'd immediately bend her over, not caring if she was streaming or not and fuck her like some animal
" ah fuck! " he moans loudly, his semen, spurting on his keyboard making a fucking mess, " shit... " he groans out
maybe instead of ordering her a new costume, maybe he'll fly her out instead
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wosoluver · 18 days
Text
Don't get sad, get even.
Part 2/? - previous - next
Patri x reader, Claudia x reader.
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And then monday came. You were all getting ready to go out for training, when Patri came into the locker room. You had never seen her so pissed. You and Clau only shared a look and moved outside.
It was weird. For everyone. This had never happened before. The team divided into two groups to play against each other, after doing gym work and solo drills.
You and Piña were in one team and Patri on another.
Everyone was so confused, but no one dared to ask about it.
Mainly because you and Clau seemed totally fine. But Patri was a different story. She looked like a bull ready to charge at her target.
And she did.
She was competitive, the whole team knew. But that wasn't what she was going in for today.
She didn't care about winning.
She cared about letting out her anger.
The first 10 minutes were fine. Until Patri got a chance to foul Claudia. Pushing her to the ground.
"What the hell, Guijarro" - Said Alexia, who was captain of your group. - "You're a midfielder not a defender. There was no need for that! Chill out."
You looked over at Piña to make sure she was okay, as she nodded at you.
But you couldn't make past another 20 minutes before she did it again. But this time she went in hard. She didn't even aim for the ball, she went straight for Clau's legs.
And she let out a hiss in pain.
You were boiling at this point.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" - you screamed running to check on your friend.
"Oh look who it is!" - You could feel the venom in her words. But before you could say anything Claudia was quick on her feet.
"Shut up!" - She yelled as she pushed Patri's chest - "You've been acting like a baby throwing a tantrum all day!"
"Hey! Hey, cut it out both of you!" - Paredes said raising her voice to try and separate them.
By then coach was already coming in to intervene.
"You two, my office. Now." - Patri followed Piña in with an incredulous face.
"What's going on with the three of you? And don't lie!"
"Ale can we please talk about this later? Please?"
"Fine. But your not running from me."
But you kind of did. Once the game was over, you ran straight to Giráldez's office.
They weren't there so you guessed the scolding was over.
But when you walked in the locker room, there was the two of them, being scolded by Ale, Irene and Mario.
Since they were too busy to notice you, you went straight to shower.
When you came out, they were all doing their own thing.
"Y/N!"
You slowly turned on your heels. Like a child who was caught doing something they shouldn't.
"Can I at least put on my clothes?" - wearing nothing but the towel.
"Not this time."
"We just had a fight. Just best friends' things."
"I don't believe you. I've never seen them go at each other like that!"
"Ale, we just had a disagreement and Patri was angry Piña sided with me."
"I still don't believe you. But you three better sort this out quick." - Leaving to go to shower.
You changed quickly and went to talk to Clau.
"So?"
"We're suspended for the next game."
"Unbelievable."
You guys definitely needed to have a talk.
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I know most of you want a Piña happy ending. But what would that look like for you guys? I'd love to know. I'm still deciding where to go with this one.
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burnednotburied · 19 days
Text
"You're My People"
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AO3 Link
Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader
Synopsis: You and Abby take refuge in an abandoned house to catch your breath and attempt to recover after the encounter with Ellie in the theater.
Tags: slight angst; hurt/comfort; mentions of death and blood; tending to injuries; (mostly) unspoken romantic feelings; reader is a young woman (same age as Abby)
Note: To be absolutely 100% clear, the reader is NOT meant to be Lev or Yara. Reader is a woman (about the same age as Abby) who met Abby on Seattle Day 1 when she was also meeting Lev and Yara. The four of them stuck together. None of this is super relevant for this story. (Just know that Yara was with them, but she was killed just as she was in the game, and Lev is around here somewhere.)
I have a lot of ideas for this character/storyline. It’s likely that I will continue to flesh things out in future fics, so I’ll leave the rest of the story to be explained later.
I put reader in many of the same scenarios as Lev was in the game, sometimes removing Lev altogether for the sake of the story. But reader obviously has a very different type of relationship with Abby than Lev ever would (or should) have.
----------------------------------------------------------------
“Don’t ever let me see you again.”
That’s what Abby had said to that girl – Ellie – before walking away without so much as a backwards glance.
You had quietly followed Abby out of the theater, because what else could you do, but you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel about what you just saw.
Watching Abby incapacitate one man and shoot another in the face without hesitating. Seeing her beat Ellie into the floor while she lay there motionless.
And the other woman. The one who was pregnant…
“Good,” Abby had seethed when Ellie told her. She almost seemed happy about it. Happy to repay the wrong that was done to Mel. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
If you hadn’t called out Abby’s name when you did, dragging her from the haze that was her desire for retribution…
Well, you could guess what would’ve happened.
You were just glad the two of you had decided not to bring Lev with you. That he was somewhere safe.
Neither of you spoke a word as you navigated through the dark streets of Seattle, her leading the way with you following quietly behind, just as you had been doing since you met. Although now you may have allowed for a bit more space between the two of you than you did before, trailing further behind. Lost in thought.
It had been three days since you met, but it felt like so much longer. A nagging voice in your head insisted that you really didn’t know Abby very well, despite how it felt.
She hadn’t given you any reason not to trust her. She had never hurt you. In fact, she had fought so hard to keep you and (more importantly) Lev and Yara safe. She had even turned against her own people, killed her own people, for the sake of protecting you.
No, that wasn’t right.
Those weren’t Abby’s people anymore.
“You’re my people.”
Abby had looked so earnest when she said it back on the Seraphite island just hours before. And you had believed her.
The words left you with a feeling deep in your chest that was hard to describe. You thought it might’ve been… belonging. Something you’d been hoping for but never found. You’d always wanted to truly belong to something.
Or someone.
There hadn’t been any time to dwell on the feelings or what they meant.
And now all you feel is a pit in your stomach.
Why were you so shaken up? This is stupid. You’ve killed before, and you’ve watched Abby kill.
But this felt different. It wasn’t self-defense. It wasn’t necessary. It was dark and angry and honestly terrifying. She was honestly terrifying.
But it was justified, wasn’t it? You could argue that maybe it was necessary.
Ellie had been hunting Abby for days, killing her friends and seemingly anything else in her path.
Ellie killed Owen.
You weren’t sure of the exact history between him and Abby, but you did know how important he was to her. And you had seen the look on her face when she found him dead.
Who’s to say Ellie would’ve ever stopped coming after Abby and the people close to her? Who’s to say she’ll even stop now?
You’re just beginning to arrange your fractured, contradicting thoughts in a way that makes sense when Abby comes to a sudden stop in front of you. You would’ve run into her if she hadn’t stretched her hand out behind her in warning.
“We need to stop. Get out of the rain. Regroup.” Her voice is strained.
You hadn’t really even noticed that it started raining again, harder this time, but you can walk in the rain. Lev is alone, waiting for the two of you to return.
You open your mouth to protest, only to shut it again when Abby turns to face you fully. She’s balancing her weight unevenly, heavily favoring her right leg. A significant bloodstain runs all the way down to her left ankle. And her face…  
The pregnant girl had come from nowhere, attacking Abby from behind. She managed to slash across Abby’s cheek with a knife before you took her down with an arrow through the shoulder. It had been your only real contribution to the fighting in the theater, but it had been unavoidable. Abby had been in danger.
Now she’s standing in front of you, soaked from head to toe, from the rain and with blood, and you have no idea how much of that blood is hers, but there are definitely some significant injuries that need to be tended to.
Abby takes in your silence and your wide-eyed stare for a moment before shifting a little in place and clearing her throat. “Um… we can try in there. Yeah? The houses here should all be deserted.” She gestures weakly to the building closest to you.
You finally find your voice. “Yes, yeah. Let’s—let’s go in there.”
You pull your gaze away from Abby’s and walk past her, toward the small house, pulling your bow from where it rests over your shoulder and notching an arrow in the string. It suddenly occurs to you that you’ve walked all this way without your weapon drawn while Abby was injured and unarmed. For a moment, you’re glad that the Wolves and the Seraphites are too distracted fighting each other elsewhere to be roaming around in this area. Or else you and Abby would probably have been killed by now, both of you practically stumbling through the streets like a couple of vulnerable, mindless children.
You shake your head, silently scolding yourself and promising to be more alert, starting right now with sweeping the house.
The front door is mostly intact and slightly ajar. You approach carefully, painstakingly forcing it further open with your shoulder, fighting against rusted hinges and warped wood. The floorboards creak beneath your boots as you step inside, quickly scanning the entryway for anything or anyone that poses a threat. Abby follows behind you, trying not to visibly limp on her injured leg and holding up a small flashlight taken from the aquarium.
“Come on. You need to sit down,” you say over your shoulder, just loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain outside. For a moment, it looks like she might argue with you, maybe insist that she make sure the building’s clear first, but she seems to decide against it, giving you a quick nod of her head in response.
With your bow still drawn, you lead the way through the first floor of the building, passing a bathroom and a kitchen before arriving in what was once the living room. The room is filled with furniture in various levels of destruction and decay, somehow the most well-preserved among them being an old couch pressed against the back wall.
You point to it. “Sit,” you tell Abby. The fact that she listens and moves toward the couch without protest, albeit very slowly, is further proof of the extent of her injuries and her level of exhaustion. “I’m going to check the rest of the house, okay? I’ll be back. Don’t move.”
Abby lets out a scoff, immediately followed by a second, more pained noise. “I couldn’t go anywhere if I wanted to.” An attempt at a joke, made through gritted teeth. You give her a hesitant, worried look, long enough that she forces a small smile and attempts to reassure you with, “I’m fine. Go.”
She’s lying and you know that, but you don’t have much of a choice. You turn to go quickly search the house.
The second floor is clear of any discernible threats but also of anything that would be useful in helping Abby. On your way back to the living room, you rummage through the downstairs bathroom and a couple of mostly empty coat closets in hopes of finding something. Medical supplies. Even clean cloths.
You find nothing there and move on to your last hope, the kitchen. This room is even more ransacked than the rest of the house, and still, you don’t find what you’re looking for.
“Ugh,” you loudly groan, clasping your hands together on the back of your neck and casting your gaze upward in frustration.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Abby quickly asks from the other room, sounding ready to jump up off the couch and rush to your rescue even in her current condition. It makes you smile until you remember that this is no time to be smiling.
“It’s nothing. The house is clear. I was just looking for some medical supplies.”
“Who needs medical supplies?” she asks, trying her hand at a second joke. This time you let yourself smile for just a second.
“You do, Abby,” you say, “You need medical supplies. Urgently.” You’re still staring up like the answer will be written up there if you just look hard enough, when something in the space between the one of the top cabinets and the ceiling catches your eye. If you’re not mistaken, it looks like the corner of a first aid kit.
It’s too high for you to reach standing, and there’s nothing for you to stand on top of. The countertops are broken, the pieces scattered across the room, and the wood of the lower cabinets is rickety and unstable at best.
You’re grumbling under your breath about damn high ceilings and unnaturally tall cabinets as you reenter the living room to find Abby almost exactly where you left her, left leg now up on the couch and elevated, right foot still on the floor. Both of her hands are hovering over the gash in her thigh, like she’s not sure if she should touch it or not, her face tense and focused. She’s in pain.
You pull your eyes away and look for something sturdy enough for you to stand on, eventually deciding on a mostly intact, only slight wobbly small metal table.
“Do you really think now is the best time to rearrange the furniture, honey?” Abby asks, glancing at you in her periphery. She’s joking again, and you know that, but you can’t help the warmth that pools in your cheeks at her use of the affectionate pet-name.
“I--“ You clear your throat, “I need something to stand on. I think I found something in the kitchen.”
“Aww, you can’t reach the top shelf by yourself?” Abby asks, amused. She turns her attention from her leg to watch as you drag the table out of the room. It squeaks along the floor the entire way, making her laugh softly.
 The fact that she’s being playful with you starts to ease your lingering panic about her many ailments. If she’s cracking jokes, she can’t be that close to dying, right?
“Crazy how you’ve lost like half your blood supply, and yet you still have enough energy to tease me,” you say, your own teeth gritted now. The table is much heavier than you anticipated. “And, for your information, the thing that I’m trying to get is not on the top shelf. It is above the top shelf. On top of the cabinet.”
“Uh huh. Sure… Take your time. I’m just over here, casually bleeding out.”
“Well, I’m no doctor. But I’m pretty sure that if the knife had hit any major arteries, you would’ve bled out a long time ago. So you’ll be fine for another minute. Probably.” With one final shove, you manage to get the table where you want it.
You carefully step up on the table, hoping that some sadistic asshole didn’t throw an empty first aid kit all the way up there just to waste the time and energy of some poor, desperate fool in need of medical supplies. (You, of course, being that poor desperate fool.)
After brushing off a thick layer of dust, you grab the handle. The kit is full.
“Yes!” you shout, nearly stumbling off the table in your excitement.
Abby can tease you all she wants and try to make light of the situation, but she can’t hide the look of relief that washes over her features when she sees what you’re carrying.
And, if you were paying closer attention to her face, she also wouldn’t have been able to mask the way her eyes go wide and her cheek – the one that’s not covered in blood – gets visibly pink when you get on your knees in front of her. “Uhhh hey, you can—you can sit on the couch.”
You raise your eyebrows, confused by her sudden nervousness. “No, the angle will be better this way,” you insist. “Just bring your leg over here.” She concedes, avoiding eye contact as you help her maneuver her injured leg so that her foot is back on the floor, practically between your knees.
There’s already a tear in her pant leg where the gash is. So to avoid having Abby stand up and take her pants off or cutting all the way around at mid-thigh, leaving her with half a pair of pants for the foreseeable future, you opt to just rip the fabric a little more on either side of the tear.
But you have a bad habit of occasionally thinking about something and then doing it, forgetting the often necessary in-between step of alerting the people around you to what you’re going to do first. You take the already-ripped fabric of her pants in your hands and tear, successfully making a hole large enough for you to properly clean and dress the wound.
The sound Abby makes when you do this surprises you. It’s almost sounds like a whimper—a noise that you don’t think you’ve ever heard her make before. There’s a twisting heat in your gut that seems to be a recurring side effect of being close to Abby, which you choose to ignore in favor of focusing on the more urgent (and honestly less daunting and less complicated) task at hand.
She’s quiet as you get to work cleaning the gash. Wincing slightly but remaining still.
The cut is deep, but as you expected it missed the femoral artery. You would have to stitch it up, though, and you told Abby as such. She nodded and watched you carefully as you quickly prepared, hoping to get this part over with as quickly as possible.
You moved even closer to her. Abby’s shin gently pressed against your front as you leaned over her knee, bringing your face closer, your movements precise and intentional.
Abby brings her hands down on either side of her legs, bracing herself. Her shoulders tense, muscles engaged. You have to tear your eyes away. Focus. You look back down at her thigh.
As you work, a strand of your hair falls from where you had tucked it behind your ear and into your face. You let out a light, annoyed huff. Before you attempt to blow the strand out of your eyeline, Abby’s fingers gently brush it back behind your ear. You feel yourself blush deeply, saying a quiet thank you before going back to sewing her up.
When the last stitch is done and you’ve carefully wrapped the wound, you feel Abby’s fingers run through your hair again, this time for no other reason but to draw your eyes up to meet hers.
“Come up here,” she says, her voice low. You stand, bringing the first aid kit with you, and feel the springs in the cushions creak beneath you as you sit on the couch, facing her, closer than is probably necessary. Before either one of you says anything else, you begin gently wiping away the blood surrounding the cut on her cheek, cleaning around the wound.
It's clear to you now that her wounds weren’t quite as detrimental as you had feared. With her leg sown up, her face was the only other thing that required your attention. Most everything else was superficial and would heal on its own. The rain had done a poor job of washing away all the blood, but it seems that much less of that blood had come from her than you had anticipated anyway.
“I can do that,” Abby says in a whisper, watching your face as you carefully and meticulously clean hers.
“I know,” you reply, just as quiet. “I want to.”
A few moments go by in silence until Abby once again breaks it.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” she begins, quickly adding, “Not sorry that I did it, but sorry that you had to… see me that way.” Her eyes are downcast. You know it’s weighing on her. Not just everything that happened today, but the fear that what happened could have a lasting effect on this thing you two have only just started to build. Call it trust or friendship or maybe something else entirely.
You shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad I was there. You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.” Abby nods, but you know it doesn’t do much to assuage her worries.
You still don’t understand what happened back in the theater. Or why it happened. Part of you wants to ask for the history now. How she knows Ellie. Why she wants Abby dead.
Maybe in time she will tell you, but you’ve already decided to trust her. To lean into whatever this thing between you is, and whatever it might become.
So instead, you ask another question that’s been in the back of your mind.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” You pull your hand away from her face, finished cleaning the cut there. It may form a scar, but it doesn’t seem deep enough to warrant stitches. (And you’re not brave enough to try, on her lovely face so close to her eye.)
Abby smiles softly, leaning forward just a bit to bring your faces closer together. “You’re going to have to be more specific, honey.”
That pet-name again. It makes your head spin. Makes you want to close the already shrinking distance between you and press your lips to hers. But you don’t do that. Instead, you explain, “On the island. When you said that… I’m your people.” You pause, hesitating over the last few words.
Abby stops for a moment, almost looking confused, and you start to spiral internally. You realize that it was probably just something she said in the heat of the moment. To calm you down and get you to keep moving, towards safety. You wish you could take your question back, retract your stupid words. Swallow them up and hide them inside you, along with your ever-growing feelings.
Abby finally answers. “Yeah. Of course I meant it. You’re my people.”
“Yeah?” You break out into a grin.
She nods, smiling and sincere. “Yeah.”
It’s that one, small word that makes you close the distance between you. Not to kiss her, but to gently rest your forehead against hers. Abby seems stunned, like maybe she was expecting the other thing, or hoping for it, but she recovers quickly, closing her eyes and maintaining the physical contact. You close your eyes too.
“You’re my people too, Abigail Anderson.” You can feel her laugh quietly and open your eyes, pulling away just enough to see her face again. “So… where do we go from here?”
“Santa Barbara, California,” she says. You remember overhearing part of a conversation about that between Abby and Owen yesterday. You figured that’s where she would be heading; you had just hoped to be given the chance to tag along. But you guess you didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
So you nod your head thoughtfully. “Sounds good… Sunny.”
“Hmm, yeah. That’s what I hear.” You’re both smiling. Happy, strangely enough, given the circumstances.
“Abby…”
“Hmmm?”
“We are going back to get Lev before we leave though, right?”
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Note: If you read all of that, THANK YOU! This is the first fanfic I’ve written—and the first time I’ve written at all in a long time—so this is me dipping my toes in the water.
It definitely ended up being a lot longer and a lot less spicy than I anticipated, but I wrote what came naturally. I hope to continue this storyline, likely backtracking to when Abby and reader met, so we’ll be seeing more of these two. We’ll get to the fun stuff eventually!
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
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Silence can never be bought, only rented.
pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+
picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List
Joel Miller List
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“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.
Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!
Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry
NEXT: PART 3
Catch up on Part 1
-----
It's June in Texas.  You packed your swimsuit this weekend.  You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway.  Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off.  In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.  
-
Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie.  Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does. 
She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail.  She leans over and looks at the screen. 
“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”
You scrunch your face up.  “Gross, he's like 50.”   
“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?”  She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot.  It turns out, you had no idea.  
You sigh,  “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.”  You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't.  You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.
“So why not answer?” 
“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.” 
She looks at you sympathetically.  She knows why you came home this weekend.  You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing.  “I get it,” she says.  “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it.  Then on to the next,” she smiles.  
If only it were that easy.  You really don’t feel like going back and facing life.  Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive.  But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you.  You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears.  You just hate feeling so powerless.  On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend. 
Your phone dings.  Your friend looks at it.  
“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious.  "Oh, shit.  You should really call him. He said Trouble."
"That's just what he calls me."  You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism. 
"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. " 
HOG. . . Hot Old Guy.  She really tickles herself pink with that.  Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.  
Your phone dings again.  She looks at the screen and side-eyes it. 
"What?" You ask 
"You should block Chad." 
You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.  
Chad: miss u already. 
In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.  
"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond. 
-
You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute.  A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable? 
When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note.  It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing: 
You have no idea.  
Your heart races as you look around the street.   How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?
You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back.  Laundry, you guess.  You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts. 
-
Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street.  Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house.  Comically high-security, too.  Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him.   You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back.  The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.  
When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing.  Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis.  You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further.  You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window.  Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear.  Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece. 
When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house.   When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise.  It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.  
You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.
You slather your sunscreen on as he watches.  He doesn't bother pretending not to watch.  You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts.  He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.  
-
Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool.  You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water.  When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.  
“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks. 
“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.
“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.  
He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair.  The glimpse makes your knees weak.  He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on.  He sits down again and crosses his ankles.
You ask, “How’d it go?”
“Oh, about how you’d expect.”
“How long were you fucking her?”
“Does it matter?”
“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”
“Few months.  Look, Trouble, I’m human at best.  She came onto me.”
“Knew you’d say that.” 
“What if I could prove it?”
You don’t say anything.  He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool.  You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees.  You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s.  His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.  
“There,” he says, handing you his phone.  You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.
“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask. 
“You wanna set me up?” he smiles.  “Got any single friends?”
“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”
He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.
You hand his phone back.  
"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window. 
"One what?"
"iPhone pro.  Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using." 
"What do I need an iphone pro for?" 
"They didn't have the regular one in blue." 
Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.  
-
"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”
“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing. 
Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.  
“You’re better than him, Trouble."
You don't say anything. 
"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”  
You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.  
You still don't say anything. 
Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh.  All your blood rushes to your loins.  You don't move.  He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass.  A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.  
“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb.  When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach. 
“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.” 
"Exactly. And he's just a guy."
"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."
If he's still listening, he ignores it.  
-
“God damn.  Look at you.”  He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again:  The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you.  The length of his cock slamming into her when he came.  And now it's right there for your taking.  Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants.  Too bad he doesn't deserve it. 
“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head. 
You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.  
He takes a deep breath and his lips part.  He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand.  You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you.  He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.
"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back,  jutting your tits into the air again.
 "Yes ma'am," he growls. 
He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you. 
"The whole thing." You nod at it.  
He pulls the fabric back. 
"Now take your hands away."
"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.  
Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought. 
"Take off your sunglasses," you demand. 
The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies. 
It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip.  Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base.  You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.
Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own.  He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly.  You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it. 
A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock.  He clenches his jaw.  
“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away.  He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly.  He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.
“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand. 
He shakes his head slowly.  “Yeah, you would.” 
He looks down at himself then back up at you.  His eyes darken.  The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . . 
His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy. 
You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs.  You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.  
“Thirsty?” he breathes. 
“Hell no.  Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.” 
He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.
His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie.  A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.  
“Gross,” you say.  But you ache for him so badly.  “You know, a gentleman always asks.” 
“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute." 
-
You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let  it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone.  He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.”  Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call."  He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled.  Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly. 
You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes.  Half of it is dark with sweat now.  His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels.  You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.  
He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"
"Not this one," he says matter of factly.  He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house. 
-
He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.  
How devious of him.  
You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head.  Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you.  Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear.  He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away. 
-
You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock.  Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away.  Asshole.
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freuleinanna · 6 months
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I'm still confused about Verna.. I thought she was a demon?? Because why would Death be going around making a bunch of deals with people? After Verna told Pym she decided to go "topside" I thought she was some kind of crossroads demon since it implies she came from below (hell)
Oh! I feel you, and I struggled with that a lot too. She does seem a lot like a demon. I'm not saying I'm 100% correct in my thinking either, but here's why I personally think she's Death. Kind of a long post, sorry. I hope I make myself clear, but feel free to follow up!
So, Verna. An anagram for Raven, that much is established. Ravens are wonderful - symmetrical even - creatures. Bringers of death in a wide understanding. Bringers of good luck in many cultures. The duality is amazing. To me, that also leans majorly into the theme of death being a concept of duality: an enemy for some, a friend for others. Each greets her differently. I'm not talking about the characters here, but people in general.
There's a proverb I came across a while ago that reads 'Death is a great leveller'. Meaning, everyone's equal before her. You have no leverage or buffer against death, and it doesn't matter if you're poor or blindly, feverishly, grotesquely rich (like our folks here). Everyone pays the last bill. For everyone, there's a day of reckoning. It's a major theme with the show, at least. Verna also says 'Buy now, pay the bill later' - although it can still read very demonic, I agree.
She's obviously ancient, and I was leaning toward the demon theory based on all of her talking. Yet - she also keeps ranting about Egypt and pyramids and Cleopatras and such. What's the one thing with Egyptians everyone knows of? They honored death. Death may have been a bigger part of their lives than life itself. The Usher Twins' obssession with all things Egyptian, antiquities, jewelry, swords and such, plays a nice parallel here too, because they're just collectors. They have no grain of honor for the real thing, for what these things are tied to. Kind of a nice thought, I guess.
Anyway, back to Verna. She says on multiple occasions how intrigued she is with us, 'adorable little things'. She saw the pyramids, the expeditions, and she wanted to see what else we do, she wanted to see what Roderick and Madeline will do (in her own words). It's all an experiment to her. She makes an offer just to see what we, people, do.
Here's where my beef with a demon theory comes in. No demonic creature I could think of, be it an actual demon, a trickster, or something else, is that sincerely intrigued. Something something death loving life something something.
Demons, in my understanding, are most interested in winning the deal. They come up with incredible challenges, they enjoy torture, emotional or physical, they never let anyone win. Verna has never once expressed this. Quite the opposite. She gives everyone a chance to step back. Even when the ink has dried and everything's decided, each Usher sibling is conditioned to make a choice: push forward, or step back. Neither of them steps back. Neither of them takes a long hard look at themselves (except Tamerlane, both literally haha and figuratively, as she's the only one to have realized how lost she was in her way - just at the end, when it didn't really matter anymore, but still). Verna is kind to those she takes (sincere pet names, regrets of having to do it this way, making sure they know it's not personal, etc). She grieves with them, just before. Grieving - 'The Raven' being about an expression of grief and trauma - ravens as synonyms for death... you get the gist. Oh! Except Freddie - cause Freddie struck a cord. Infuriated her. So he doesn't get an expressed choice. And he would've blown it like coke anyway, so meh.
And then Arthur Pym. Oh, Arthur Pym. I honestly couldn't imagine a demon kneeling and thanking someone who's refused them.
About Arthur Pym, by the way. It's the one story I hadn't reread, and I should have, it turns out! haha Anyway, a few notes about his travels:
In the story, Arthur Pym is expressedly afraid of white color (North Pole, yada yada, white being the absense of colors/life, and the absense of life is death).
Verna enumerates the moments she witnessed of his travels. Someone getting left in Sahara. Someone getting shot in the Arctic. Something bad that was done to an Inuit woman. Why would she follow Arthur so closely? She didn't know him, he wasn't her favorite. I think it's because she came to collect those deaths. If she is death, she would've been exactly there, where people died. She would have also seen Arthur not partaking.
Aaaaaaaand it makes her 'You saw me' line sound better, because he had sure seen death along his travels.
I think the part about a place of out-of-time, out-of-space creatures and hollow Earth was a bit unnecessary, BUT I can try and tie it in this way:
It showed us how Arthur might have coped with what he saw, and he 'saw a lot', even in his 70s it's difficult for him to recall, and it made him think of humanity as a virus, literally;
He might have thought up that ethereal realm simply because he was in an expedition? Exhaustive conditions for both body and spirit? Traumatic experiences? If he saw Death, he might have cloaked it in his mind to cope with it, thus came his stories;
Verna going 'topside' may just mean that she had to go take a look herself, actually be willingly present for the events - to see the brave little humans conquer the earth. 'Topside', as in, 'visible, present, participating'. If Death exists, I doubt it bothers with our boring human realm but lives downunder, among all threads that weave the world.
So that's that on Arthur Pym.
A few other references my mind is too exhausted to tie in nicely:
Death takes Lenore. THE Lenore from 'The Raven' (mostly) and 'Lenore' (secondary). That happened. Also, death talking to a child of life? Regretting having to take her? Not very demonic of dear ol' Verna, in my opinion.
Her mourning veil, her last toasts to the Ushers at the cemetery? Demons don't tend to grieve their players. Demons don't respect and love them enough, and 'what is grief, if not love persevering'?
Death is the last threshold. Before death, we look upon our legacy (major theme with the show), we remember our losses and loves (Annabel Lee!!!!! love the poem, brilliantly done), we get heavy with regrets. We face death as an enemy & fight, like Madeline did. As a friend, like Arthur did. We confess, like Roderick did. All that is too significant to me overall.
And the last thing. It's Edgar Allan Poe. The whole Death tribute is a giant, incredible, thought-through-to-the-bits hommage to his literature where Death, figuratively and literally, takes the throne.
I hope I managed to express myself alright there. Thanks if you read it through, and as I said before, feel free to follow up or elaborate on some ideas. There are oceans to discuss. <3
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number1villainstan · 2 months
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I just saw Dune Part 2 (2024) with some friends so here are some Thoughts i guess
I feel like on the whole these movies are trying to either downplay or cut out a lot of the misogyny/sexism in the book, although Herbert's view of gender roles is so pervasive in the book that it's hard to change without completely changing the worldbuilding (the Bene Gesserit especially) and/or certain characters and getting second-order effects that weaken or change the main plot. But they did a good job at least making it much less in-your-face and offensive than in the book. One of Chani's lines is about how "men and women are equal" in the Fremen, and while I don't really think that's supported by how the movie depicts Fremen I can see and respect where they're coming from
It's still a very male-dominated movie, but it's honestly pretty faithful to the book, and like--what are you gonna do? It's Dune. You can't exactly just genderbend Paul and get the same story, at least not when the Bene Gesserit are still what they are
wait now i'm thinking about an AU where the Kwisatz Haderach turns out to be a trans man. ideally you'd get both the canon critiques of white savior mythos/the Messiah trope and a deconstruction of the sexism and strict gender roles of the society of the Dune universe. also ideally you'd get a whole bunch of other queer characters in the same AU. you could also do an AU where the Kwisatz Haderach/a potential Kwisatz Haderach turns out to be a trans woman, or even nonbinary, but i feel like those would make for very different stories cuz AGAB/ASAB seems to matter like A Lot in the Dune universe
the movies did manage to completely get rid of the homophobic parts of the Harkonnens' characterization though. i did like that
although it was still using disability/deformity as shorthand for Ugly Evil Guy which :/
but enough about the Problematic Elements(TM) let's talk about the actual story
Chani was a lot more politically and generally assertive in the movie than I remember her being in the book, although it's been A While and she was also very much a Main Character who had thoughts and opinions and importance outside of the male characters she was affiliated with (as much as anyone can escape the political black hole that is Muad'dib but) AND! she actively advocated for Fremen self-governance in the beginning! although she didn't keep it up cuz she got sucked into the Paul black hole. this may have happened in the book it has been like two years since i read the first book and it was very disjointed reading cuz College(TM). I also liked the ending part, where it was implied that Chani was leaving, on her own, because she was angry with Paul, which implies More Character Development. (Also they didn't seem to do the Fremen polygamy/concubines thing in the movie, which was a good call, i feel like that part of the book was maybe informed by anti-Arab racism)
Jessica was incredible, of course. Love me a good ruthless woman. Her main character trait/motivation was definitely Paul's Mother but her main personality trait seems to be incredible ruthlessness. there is no madonna/whore complex to be found here no sir
(i may be wrong about that part but eh)
And of course the Harkonnen Blood reveal. the story definitely sets up Atreides as The Good Guys (fair, just, merciful, looking out for and caring about the people under their rule) and the Harkonnens as The Bad Guys (cruel, unjust, power-hungry and traitorous), which makes the reveal that Jessica and Paul have Harkonnen blood an incredible symbol of Paul's corruption arc. He goes from "I must do anything possible to avoid the holy war" (the Atreides way) to "CONQUER ARRAKIS AND ELIMINATE ANYONE WHO STANDS IN MY WAY" (the Harkonnen way) over the course of...technically years, in the book, although that wasn't super well communicated in the movie I feel--in the movie it was only months, cuz Alia hadn't been born yet by the end. And right before we see the worst of it we end up learning that Jessica, his mother, was a daughter of Baron Harkonnen. Jesus fuck.
there's definitely some Not Great elements about using ancestors/blood to determine morality but still
princess irulan was introduced! as an independent character and actor in her own right oh my god! although she still falls prey to the sexism infusing the original material
the dune books (at least the first two) are in this weird state where there are very strict and specific roles/walks of life that female characters are allowed in (domestic/family life and religion) and men dominate Everything Else and nobody every questions that, not to mention the whole thing about how apparently even the very female religion/psychic field is supposed to be dominated eventually by This One Man who can do it better than all the women, and yet all of the female characters are well-developed and feel like people. ykno aside from the complete lack of protest in being shoved into a sexist role
anyways irulan got more development than i remember from the books, i loved that, and that we got her POV too. these movies are really working to uplift and spotlight the female perspectives that were often somewhat sidelined in the books and i love that
also stilgar's (blind?) faith REALLY came through which i liked
overall, yeah, the movie was great. it's very faithful to the spirit of Dune while addressing some of its flaws/datedness--it understands what its message is and what it's saying, and the way it's constructed really hammers home the critiques of imperialism and racism the original was built on
I think this is gonna end up a trilogy, based on only the first book, and it very much seems like the third (and final?) movie is going to specifically focus on the war against the Great Houses after the Emperor falls, which iirc was kinda glossed over in the book/between Dune and Dune: Messiah. I can't wait to see what they do with it
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months
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Omg hey I woul like to request something ! Ken x Reader (male, if possible) where the reader teaches Ken about the real world and they're also very in love. Thank you very much !
When Ken returned to the Real World again, he had a vision similar to Barbie's--realizing his owner was nearby.
Instead of a child....it's you, an adult who (like Gloria) inadvertently projected your own insecurities onto him while looking at an unboxed Beach Ken doll in your attic.
When you were younger, you really wanted to play with it unlike other boys who had action figures and nerf guns...but you were sorta shamed into keeping it boxed, as your parents said it would be more "valuable" one day.
Similarly..Ken had been stuck in a box all his life, trapped in the role of Barbie's accessory until recently.
So there's an instant connection when you two meet.
To make a long story short, you're like "ohhh hey I guess I kinda fucked up your mental stability, bro...you wanna come over and we can talk about it, man-to-man?"
He was very eager to go with you and learn more about your world beyond all the patriarchy and toxic masculinity.
You tell him about using your "male privilege" for good, and one defining example was when a random woman taps him on the shoulder, looking terrified and almost in tears.
"H-Hi, um..this is gonna sound really awkward but can you two pretend to be my friends for a second? This guy has been following me-"
"Of course." You reassure her, before looking to the confused Ken and telling him to go along with it.
The creepy guy comes along and backs off when he sees you two standing there protecting this lady, and once he's gone, she thanks you with hugs before leaving.
"I think I did a good job." Ken turns to you for validation, eyes shimmering. "Was that good, [y/n]? I mean playing pretend is all I've ever done so-"
"Yep. You did great." You chuckle, patting his shoulder. "I'm glad she thought you were a safe person to approach."
He nods and is giddy the whole way back home, especially when you get into your car and show him the different mechanisms, with him clinging to every detail.
These life lessons you're teaching him, however, made him think back to the "Kendom"...and he admits to trying to reinvent patriarchy there and feels ashamed of how he treated the Barbies.
He didn't think he'd open up this quickly to you, considering he never had any "manly" talks with other Kens (besides beach-offs).
But besides you being his owner, there's something about you that just made him feel...secure enough to do so. Like he could tell you anything.
You listen and reassure him that acknowledging his mistakes was a great first step to unlearning those toxic mindsets.
With all of that finally hashed out, you decide to show him the simple pleasures of the real world. Like cooking, watching TV, playing video games, etc.
Just mundane things you regularly do, with Ken picking up on some of your habits/routines as well as having some independence of his own.
You two grow closer as a result over the next few weeks, and you began falling for him and his humor and his charming smiles-
Yeah, you're 100% smitten for this doll who crossed worlds to meet you.
But you're not sure if he felt (or even could feel) the same way, since he was made to love Barbie and was...clearly still getting over his "breakup" with her. So you left it be.
That changes when you show him some emotional movie where the lead male characters showed vulnerability (ie Good Will Hunting or Brokeback Mountain) and he unconsciously holds your hand as he stares at the screen, tears staining his cheeks.
While the credits roll, your heart melts as he looks at you with those pretty blue eyes, his watery smile persistent.
"Th-Thanks for showing me this, [y/n].."
"Of course, Ken. Now you know that us guys don't always have to pretend to be tough. We're allowed to have feelings." You rub your thumb across his knuckles, a sweet gesture which makes him blush.
On the subject of feelings, he realizes that the ones he has for you are...leaning more into romance than "bromance" (yeah you taught him that term and it's part of his vocabulary now).
He becomes uncharacteristically quiet when you ask him what's on his mind, before he leans in to kiss you on the cheek. Purely on impulse.
You're both flustered at what happened, yet he panics internally when you don't say anything, trying to get up to leave so you didn't see him cry over the stupid decision he made-
"Ken, it's okay." You take his hands, convincing him to sit back down. "I had no idea you swung that way, but I'm...actually glad."
"Glad? Y-You're not...mad or anything?" He sniffles.
"Of course not. I....was planning to come out of the closet sooner or later. I just didn't know when or how to bring it up, but....I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, thank god."
"So...does this makes us boyfriend and g....boyfriend?"
"If you want it to be, sure. I wouldn't mind a handsome doll being the love of my life." You wink.
Ken mirrors your smile, relieved to know you reciprocated his feelings.
Then he gets stumped on something and his eyebrows furrow.
"Wait...what closet were you talking about?"
Oh boy.
You just chuckle and give him a kiss on the lips.
Falling in love with a Ken doll from Barbieland certainly wasn't on your bucket list....
But you're perfectly content with that.
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mywrittings · 2 years
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pills / eddie munson
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𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: After a long deep conversation with your friend, she ends up recommending you to a drug dealer who attends her high school.
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 3.8k+
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 18+ only. drugs, usage of drugs, explicit language, kissing, heavily kissing, oral sex, unprotected sex, cum eating... smutty af.
𝒶/𝓃: oh my god. season 4 of stranger things is freaking amazing. but this character. when I saw him... I KNEW I had to write about him. I can't even comprehend how he made me feel so... anyways... hope you like the story! also this is spoiler free!
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‘’I hope I’m at the right place.’’ you say to yourself, as you drive down a dark driveway until you notice a cluster of trailers, dispersed across the area in front of you
You were talking to your friend a few nights ago, and the topic became pretty deep. You expressed how sometimes you just wanted to feel numb due to your preoccupied thoughts lately. That's when she mentioned the drug dealer that attends her high school. She said that he has the best supplies for when you need to take a moment for yourself. Since you were from a different highschool you had no idea what he would look like let alone where he lived so you told her if she would get them for you. Of course she said no so you were left with a paper and scribbled on was the address followed by his name.
‘’Eddie Munson.’’ you say his name as you approach his trailer. You could see there was a light inside, meaning he was home and was expecting you as your friend told him you would be arriving sometime later this evening.
Parking the car outside, you grab your small pouch you had with the money inside. You weren’t sure how much he’d charge so you brought a fair amount just in case. 
After locking the car, you walk up to his front door and knock, hoping you knocked on the right door.
And you did
The door swung open and in front of you was standing a guy with very curly hair, a white shirt that said ‘Hellfire club’ and a leather jacket over it. Silver rings coated his fingers, and a few tattoos could be seen peeping out from beneath his shirt. You knew it was him without him having to prove it, and you thought to yourself, 'Damn he is hot.' 
‘’Y/n? Right?’’ he asks, biting his lower lip, while eyeing at you up and down
‘’That’s me. Eddie?’’ you point at him, and he nods, stepping aside from the door and motioning for you to enter.
Eddie closes the door behind you and moves past, to the table where he pulls a chair out for you and takes a seat across from you. You took a brief second just to look at his trailer. It was nice, cozy and big as well. You wondered if he was the only one here but your thoughts quickly got interrupted. As you sat, you see a variety of strange pills stored in little bags, while others store some kind of white powder. You never used drugs, not even smoked anything. That was never for you and you were always so opposed to it but you really needed something right now. Anything that would help your mind.
Eddie notices the look on your face as you were examining the drugs strewn across the table. He sets one of his hands on it while pointing at different drugs, trying to explain what they do. He assured you that they would not kill you, they would just be enough to calm you. But with so many options you were confused as to which one to choose.
‘’It’s your first time right?’’ he eventually asks, breaking the silence
‘’Yes,’’ you chuckle, as you continue to examine the many colored tablets ‘’I have never seen so many drugs at once.’’
He laughs with you as he leans back in his chair ‘’Yup. That’s why I’m the best of the best at Hawkins highschool.’’ he puts his arms behind his head as you stare up at him
‘’So your business is flourishing?’’ you inquire and he nods, I guess what your friend told you was right; it was worth it coming a long way to get the best this guy had to offer
‘’Have you decided yet which one you want? If you have some trouble, I can recommend this one,’’ he leans back on the table and gestures to one of the tablets in the transparent bag ‘’it’s good for beginners or if you want something a tiny bit stronger,’’ he points to another bag ‘’you can take this one.’’
‘’How do I take them? Like how does it work?’’ it was a silly question; you knew you had to swallow it but you weren't sure whether there was anything you should do to prepare for it in advance. 
‘’Just swallow it.’’ he briefly explains but this time in a different tone. His eyes kept drifting around your lips, before he looked up back at you as he leans back on the chair again.
‘’Well yes but is there anything else I need?’’ 
‘’No. That’s all.’’ he then picks one of the bags and takes one of them out. He puts it in his mouth and swirls it around with his tongue. He shows it to you before he swallows it and the pill disappears from his mouth.
‘’See? Like that.’’ he returns back in for another one and hands it to you, you were confused as to what he wanted but he hastily cuts you off until you could ask
‘’I am not telling you to take it now. That one is free of charge.’’ he says, the pill now sitting in the palm of his hand and you take it but instead of listening you put it in your mouth
‘’Oh.’’ he only manages to mutter as you mimic his moves, circling your tongue around the pill and just as you were about to swallow it Eddie interrupts you
‘’Show it to me.’’ and you stick out your tongue, the pill being at the tip of it
Eddie suddenly moves in closer to you and presses his lips against yours. You don’t pull away; instead kiss him back the same manner he was kissing you. His tongue is quick as he slips it in, molding it around with yours and you feel the pill getting lost in your mouth. Before you know it the pill is no longer there and Eddie pulls away, smirking at you as he shows the pill on his tongue before he swallows it.
‘’I don’t think drugs are for you Y/n. There’s other ways to take your mind off of things.’’ he once more leaned back on the chair, parting his legs a bit and your body flushed. The same second your eyes met his at that front door you could feel some kind of sexual tension between you two.
That’s when you place the pouch on the table and straddle him. Your legs at the either sides of him, his hands automatically finding their way to your waist. He holds you in place as you move closer to his face, brushing your lips against his. A buzz of electricity was spreading from your lips to his but then your entire body was going through that same sensation once Eddie slowly started swaying your hips.
‘’Is this okay?’’ he hums as he pulls away from your lips but still keeps his face near yours but you find it hard to respond with words so instead you plant your lips back on his
Eddie was rocking your body back and forth and soon you feel him hardening beneath you.  One of your hands reaches for his face, while the other one goes behind his neck. You sink your nails in his skin once he picks up the pace. His hands abruptly start moving up where he goes underneath your shirt and you jump in your place once you realize how cold they are. Then he moves back down to your hips, where he grips on them and rests there. 
He takes your bottom lip in his mouth and sucks on it before delicately biting on it, causing a gasp out of you. It was so hard to explain but you were eager for more of him. You were in bliss, Eddie’s kisses made your mind go completely blank with other thoughts. He was all you could think of right now.
‘’Grind on me,’’ he instructs as you moaned out ‘’grind that fucking pussy on my cock.’’  he mutters as you now wrap both of your hands around his neck. You whip your head back as you feel Eddie's wet lips in the middle of your neck. His hands were now traveling up your back before one went down to your ass. He playfully slaps it and gets another moan out of you.
‘’Fuck Eddie.’’ you shakily say, your breathing hitching as he pulls you back in
Eddie glides his lips at the side of your neck, carefully sucking the skin in his mouth before he drags them to your jawline. You couldn’t stop yourself, the feeling was too good as you kept pushing your hips and rotating around his cock. He then comes back up to your lips but all he does is laugh at you as he sees how desperate you were but you didn’t care. You desired him and made it clear how much you wanted him.
‘’Can you feel it, hm?’’ he inches to your ear, gets really close to it as you feel his hot breath trickling down the side of your neck ‘’Can you feel how hard I am for you?’’ you don’t say anything; it was difficult with him on your skin and so near you
‘’Answer me sweetheart.’’ he demands, his voice so sinful, his eyes lustful awaiting for your response
‘’Y-yes…’’ when he hears you stammer, he raises you up and wipes the table with his hand, causing all of the tablets to fall to the floor. He places you on the table, hovering over you as he pecks your lip, so innocently at first. He moves away for a split second only to get rid of his jacket followed by his shirt and you stare in awe. His body was covered in tattoos, the one peeking from his shirt was now fully visible to you and you could see what it actually was.
He comes back in, grabs at the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. You were now resting on the table in front of him, only wearing your bra. He bites his lip just like he did when you first saw him and dips his head in between your breasts. He gives a small kiss in the middle before you feel his fingers sneak behind and he unzips your bra. 
‘’Shit…’’ he grunts as he begins smothering your breasts in his kisses, your hand going to the back of his head while the other one kept supporting you on the table
As he’s kissing you, his other hand goes down to your jeans. He manages to unbutton them, before helping you get rid of them, tossing them on the floor next to your bra. Once he sees you with just your panties on he couldn’t help but to touch himself. You anticipated him to remove those damned pants, but instead he walks to the freezer and pulls something out. You were momentarily puzzled, but then you noticed him holding a little ice cube.
He steps back to you, placing the ice cube in between your breasts, slowly dragging it down to your stomach. It was so cold but at the same time it felt so good. He comes to a stop at your belly button as his other hand twists around your panties and he swiftly pulls them off, you only helping by kicking your legs.
That’s when you felt him going lower until the ice cube reached your pussy. You jolt in your place but Eddie has his other hand now on your hips, securing you in place. His eyes watched as you were melting in your moans, once he pushed the ice cube up your pussy lips. He had a grin on his face and couldn’t stop biting his lips. The scenery in front of him was beautiful.
He then drops his head and before you know it his lips are on your pussy. He slides the ice cube with his mouth around it, until it fully melts. His hands go to yours and he intertwines them together, once you feel his tongue flicking at your folds. You were already soaked from grinding on him, but the fact that you could feel him rapidly glide his tongue up and down made it 10 times better.
He was slurping up your juices, he didn’t seem to stop, he kept increasing the speed. His thumb was caressing the back of your hand as he tried to make you feel comfortable once his other finger plunged inside of you. You moaned aloud, surprised by his action and just like he was flicking his tongue faster and faster, he did the same thing with his finger. He was curling it inside, while his tongue looped around the top of your clit. Arching your back as you close your eyes, unable to control that sensation that was coursing through your body.
‘’You taste so good oh my god.’’ he purrs against it, sucking and fucking your pussy with his tongue
As your other hand was free you went to grab at the table, because it was so hard not to move in your place as Eddie lapped at your pussy, devouring in your juices. 
He then leaves your pussy for a moment, finally getting rid of his jeans and underwear. His cock was right there in front of you, hard and fucking huge. He palmed it in between his hand while his other hand played with your pussy before he smothers his dick with your juices.
Eddie then walks around to the other side of the table and as you attempt to rise up, believing he wants you to do something, he gently pushes you back down and pulls you closer to himself. His cock was now directly in front of your mouth and that’s when you knew what he wanted. Your head was a little bit over the table, just so that he was able to push his cock into your mouth. 
‘’Suck that cock baby.’’ he orders as he begins moving his hips. He didn’t let you do anything else other than to move your tongue around it and kiss it when he’d pull out, the rest was his doing. Your tongue was circling around his tip then all the way down to his balls where he tells you to suck on them as well. You take them each in your mouth, covering them with your saliva as Eddie’s eyes remain on you. He didn't take his gaze away, not even for a second; he wanted to see everything.
His hand went to your neck first but then he slowly pushed it down, to your clit. He feels your skin prickle at his touch, as your eyes flutter once his fingers begin playing around. He was only using the tips of his fingers, teasing you around making you move your body side to side. You clenched your hand around his arm and you were pushing it harder, trying to add more friction because he wasn’t touching you like before. Eddie didn’t care because he wanted to keep teasing you.
‘’You’re such a mess baby,’’ he whines as he sees you dig your fingers into his skin ‘’do you like it when I push my cock so deep in your fucking mouth that you can’t breath huh?’’ he asks, as you feel him go all the way in and when he takes it out you gasp for air. Eddie leaves your pussy and leans down to your lips. He kisses you, with reassurance that you are safe as his hands touch the sides of your body before he comes back around again. 
He lifts you back up and begins carrying you to his bed. He lays you down, hovering over you and you mentally thank him for bringing you somewhere much more comfortable. 
‘’Spread your legs for me.’’ you obey him and open up your legs, Eddie’s hands go to your thighs where he caresses them, while pecking your forehead
‘’Look at me,’’ he lifts your chin up, licking his lips ‘’I’m going to fuck you now okay? I don’t want you to hold back your moans, while I fuck this pussy. Is that okay?’’ you don’t even need to say anything, just a small nod was enough for him to slowly push at your entrance.
His cock slowly penetrates inside of you, stretching you out. He didn’t go all the way in at first as he wanted to help you adjust to him. He remained close to you when he moved in and out a couple of times. You were whining from his cock, as you clenched your pussy around him when he’d find that spot. 
‘’Fuck, keep doing that.’’ he whispers as you clench again, feeling his cock pulsating inside of you
You wrap your legs around him, pushing him closer and he sees that you want more from him. 
‘’Want me to go faster hm?’’ 
‘’Yes.’’ 
‘’Harder? Want me to fuck you harder?’’
‘’Y-yes.’’
‘’Hold onto me while I fuck you harder.’’ he started going faster until he was slamming himself in. He didn’t have a rhythm anymore, your pussy was making him feel way too good to even comprehend at what pace he was trying to fuck you. 
Your hands fly to his back, seeping your nails into him which evoked a groan out of him. He had his hands at either side of your face, while he thrusted harder and faster each time he’d push back and sink his cock back in you. His head goes past your face, burying it in the hollow of your neck as you feel his lips now closer than ever to your ear. He was panting, moaning, grunting from the pleasure of his dick going in and out of your pussy.
‘’You’re so tight fuck.’’ he groans and you scream out his name. The feeling slowly building up inside of you, he was so close to just pushing you off the edge. He devilish smiles into your neck, once you began moaning faster, without any control but he loved it. You were so close to orgasming and so was he.
‘’Are you close hm?’’ he says against your skin as you push him even more onto yourself. He almost collapsed from the last few thrusts he did but he managed to pull himself together. 
‘’Not yet sweetheart,’’ you felt his warm tongue lick at your neck  ‘’I don’t want you to come yet.’’ he licks you again before finally his lips are back on yours and you whine. Your eyes were asking for him to let you cum but he doesn’t let it happen.
‘’I’m going to come first and then I want to you to come all over my face,’’ he lustfully says ‘’while my tongue is buried deep in your pussy.’’ you were so close but managed to pull every ounce of power you had in you to stop yourself from letting go and going over that edge.
‘’Where do you want my cum? Want me to cum on that pretty face of yours hm?’’ he touches your face with his finger, the rings that were so cold grazing your skin ‘’Or should I cum on that pretty ass? Or do you want me in your mouth hm?’’ that’s what you were waiting for, you wanted his cum in your mouth, you wanted to taste him.
‘’Your mouth? Oh such a fucking filthy girl you are.’’ he kisses your lips, pounds your pussy one more time before he pulls out, standing up and you quickly go to your knees, taking him in your mouth. You wrap your hand around his cock and pump him as your mouth bobs around his head. His hand goes in your hair and once you feel him he is about to let go, you close your eyes and feel his hot cum fill your mouth. He grunts as you keep bobbing your head, sending him into orbit. 
‘’Stick out your tongue, let me see that cum.’’ he pulls out of your mouth and you put your tongue out ‘’Swallow it.’’ you do just as he says and as soon as you do that he pushes you on the bed, instantly attaching his lips to your pussy.
‘’Your turn, baby,’’ he licks a strip along your pussy before he starts flicking his tongue ‘’come for me.’’ and that’s when you push yourself over the edge. Your entire body goes numb, the feeling overtook you completely as you moved your hips while Eddie helped to ride off your orgasm. 
‘’Just like that, yes.’’ he encourages you and at last you couldn’t move anymore. You couldn’t feel anything for a moment, only Eddie's tongue that was still lapping around your pussy. Once he feels you come he kisses your pussy and begins kissing your thighs up your stomach until he’s at your lips. 
‘’You’re such a good girl Y/n.’’ he pressed his naked body against yours, moving the strands of your hair away from your face that were stuck due to the sweat. 
‘’Nobody has ever made me feel like this.’’ you giggle, still breating loudly, watching him stare deeply into your eyes as you trace your fingers along his back
‘’See? I told you there is a way to take one's mind off of something.’’ he lazily places a kiss on your lips and for a while just lets them sit there. 
‘’Stay.’’ he suddenly says, as he opens his eyes again ‘’Stay here with me.’’ he begs you, his voice became so soft
‘’I don’t think I’ll be able to let go of you, if I stay here Eddie.’’ and you were telling the truth. As soon as you saw him on the doorstep, you knew there was something about him. Something that your mind wouldn’t be able to just forget. He was that kind of person, that kind of a guy that would just stay in your head and you would think about him, think of different scenarios between the two of you. 
‘’I don’t want you to let go of me Y/n.’’ he replies back, his eyes were serious. He didn’t want you to go home, he wanted you to stay, stay around him, wrapped in his arms.
Eddie stands up and gets both of you underneath the blanket. He wraps it tightly around you and strongly presses your body up against him but still keeps a space between your faces. You don’t say anything, you let him do it, whatever he wanted, you let him do it.
‘’I think I found my favorite drug.’’ he says in a whisper, his thumb caressing your cheek. Every little move he made from that point on was so silky. So soft. He took care of you, made sure you felt safe even if you had just met him.
5K notes · View notes
outsideratheart · 9 months
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Bumped Heads & Bedtime Stories (Alex Morgan x reader)
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A/N: So this wasn’t planned but once it was in my head I had to write it. I hope you all like it.
Alex and Charlie watched on proudly as you took the field with the Matildas for the Semi final of the World Cup. The younger of the two got up from her mother’s lap and stood directly in front of the TV when the camera zoomed in on you as you exchanged pendants with the German captain. 
“Mommy look it’s Mama” Charlie says excitedly. 
Long distance was hard for the two of you when you started dating, more so when you got married but all of that failed in comparison to when you had Charlie. You played for Lyon and had done since you were a 21 years old. Alex feared what your bond with Charlie would be like when you lived half way across the world for the majority of the year but she soon found out she had nothing to worry about. Charlie adored you and the bond you two shared was unbreakable.
“It is and she is wearing a shirt just like yours” Alex replies to her daughter.
“This is her shirt Mama, look” Charlie points the your last name on the back of her shirt.
“But you support America, right Charlie?” Kelley asks the small child.
“No! I support Australia” she didn’t pronounce every letter but it was enough to be understood.
Alex knew this was an argument she could never win. You hadn’t tried to get Charlie on your side, the girl automatically chose you. The two of you asked her who she would support if Mama and Mommy play against each other and each time Charlie said you.
The Matildas were putting in yet another dominating performance just like they had been doing the entire campaign. The advantage they had with it being a home tournament made a huge difference and every game sounded and was played like a final.
You were 2-0 up going into the second half. Sam had scored from a corner and you had scored from a free kick. You were currently the top scorer on the tournament which shocked most people because you were a left back but you were also a set piece specialist. The ball almost always found the back of the net whether it came off your foot or your head.
It’s why when the next corner takes place you are heavily marked but some how manage to free yourself. As you jump for the header you feel your head hit something but it felt a lot harder than a ball, this much is proven when you fall to the floor and can feel your head throbbing in seconds. Your first guess is that you got elbowed so you stand to your feet but then feel a warm liquid running down your face. Yes, you had built up a sweat but it was winter in Australia no way are you sweating this much. It is only when you look down that you see drops of red on your shirt and when you raise your hand to where the pain is your hand is covered in blood.
Alex was unaware of the incident that had taken place on the pitch as she was getting some water from the hotel bar. The first wave of panic is brought on when she hears Charlie shrieking and her cries get louder and louder as she runs towards her.
“Mama’s hurt. Blood” Charlie all but jumps into the Alex’s arms. The child is inconsolable.
Your wife doesn’t know to react. She knew that she had to stay calm if she had any hope of calming Charlie down but right now she was finding that incredibly difficult.
When Alex returns to the seating area she sees all eyes are on her before heads turn towards the TV. 
“How bad is it?” Alex asks calmly.
“Lots of blood” Charlie is the only one to answer her question.
“Can you one you please tell me what happen to Y/N?” Alex begs her team mates.
“It was a corner. She jumped up for a header but one of the German defenders had a hold of her shirt. The keeper came out to punch the ball away and kneed Y/N in the head. She got up almost immediately—“ Kelley tried telling her best friend.
“So she’s ok?”
“She had a cut on her head. Like Charlie said there was a lot of blood. She refused a stretcher and help from the physios because she wanted to play. Sam and Ellie had to help her of the pitch. She looked out of it”
Alex tried to process what she was being told. Head injuries are serious and regardless of whether you used a stretcher or not, the suggestion of one is enough to instil worry. 
“Was it bad?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to the answer.
“No”
“Yes”
Only one player said yes and it was Kristie. 
“Sam refused to play and walked off the pitch with Y/N. I know my girlfriend, I has never seen her look like that and she has never walked away from a game. It’s the semi final. She wouldn’t have gone with Y/N if it wasn’t bad”
Kristie’s statement made Alex feel two things; relief because you had your best friend with you and panic because the blonde was right, Sam wouldn’t have left the match if it wasn’t bad. 
“Charlie” Naomi walks up to the little girl who surprisingly doesn’t shy away from her “do you know how many goals you mama has scored so far? I think it’s 2”
Your daughter reaches of the defender and goes into tell her that you had scored and how you scored them. 
Time after time, Alex got your voicemail. She was about to give up and drive to the hospital that were closest to the stadium but then Kristie got a call.
“It’s Sam” She holds the phone towards the forward “She’s with Y/N”
Alex took a deep breath before holding the phone up to her ear.
“Y/N” 
“Hi Al” you voice was quiet and if she hadn’t already have known she would be able to tell something was wrong “I need to go to the hospital for some checks and stitches”
“Which one? I’ll get one of the cars and be there as soon as I can” Alex was already searching for a member of staff that would have car keys.
“No, don’t come. Stay with Charlie. Hospitals are no place for children and you hate them almost as much as I do. I should only be a couple of hours if I don’t have to stay over. I’ll come to you afterwards”
Alex wanted to argue. She needed to see that you were ok with her own eyes, anything less wouldn’t do. 
“You’re going to come here as soon as you can?” 
“I am” 
The whole USWNT waited patiently, some more than others, for you to arrive to their hotel.  Since you began dating Alex, you had become part of their family. They all watched the incident happen and would feel much better when they saw you in the flesh. 
Hours pass and you still hadn’t arrived, they hadn’t even heard from you since the call with Alex.
Charlie went quiet and Alex knew it was because you needed to see you. The young girl always shut down when she missed you and she wouldn’t return to her normal until she saw you or felt like you were close to her. Because of this Alex had packed several of your hoodies so that they can be a source of comfort your daughter and her as well.
“Kells, will you take Charlie up to get one of Y/N’s hoodies. I’d take her but I want to be here when she—“
“Of course” 
The choice of clothing must have been a hard decision because the pair was gone almost half an hour. The defender returns to the hotel bar.
“Kelley, please tell me you haven’t lost my daughter?” Alex asks when she notices her friend is alone.
Alex walks towards the defender who had assumed Charlie was right behind her.
“Mama!!” 
The word is heard throughout the bar and the giggles that follow lift a weight that had been hanging on each players shoulders. 
When you enter the bar, your daughter in your arms, everyone can see what the accident had done to you. The left side of your forehead is slightly swollen and you had stitches just below your hairline. You welcome Alex into your arms and place a small kiss to both her and Charlie’s temples.
Sam hovers near you. You hear Kristie call her over but she shakes her head.
“Go. I’m fine” you pat your best friend on her shoulder “Thank you for staying with me Sammy” 
“I’m only over there if you need me” Sam gingerly walks over to her girlfriend.
You sit down with Alex next to you and Charlie on your knee. Your daughter inspects your injury all whilst been careful not to hurt you. She presses your stitches a little too hard which causes you to wince.
“Does it hurt?” Charlie asks and you can feel Alex’s eyes burning into you.
“It does but I’m ok” 
“Are you?” It is now Alex’s turn to ask you a question.
“I am. I have no concussion and no major damage”
“Then why is Sam here and why is she watching you like you’re going to pass out at any minute?”
“I lost consciousness a couple of times, I think I scared her” You once made a vow to be honest with Alex and it seemed important now more than ever.
You look over to where Sam and Kristie were sitting and like Alex said, Sam was watching you like a hawk. 
“I’m here because I have her medication” Sam answers Alex’s first question.
“Medication? You said you were ok. If you were ok then you wouldn’t need medication” 
You give Sam a look as if saying look what you’ve started. 
“Sam. Show Alex the medication you were talking about”
Sam holds up a pack of paracetamol earning a laugh from the girls around you. 
You hated taking painkillers but the doctor give you strict instructions to take them every 4 hours. It has been 2 hours since your first dose and Sam had taken it upon herself to make sure you took a second dose, after that it would be Alex’s job.
“Sam wanted to see Kristie without it the girls teasing her for it so she’s using me as an excuse”
Sam couldn’t argue with you on that. The team, you included, loved to tease her about how much she missed her girlfriend. You got just as much stick but you agreed with your tormentors whereas Sam would get defensive.
You took Charlie upstairs to get ready for bed since it was made obvious that the team would be staying downstairs for a bit and one late night wouldn’t harm the child. 
Whilst Alex did believe you when you told her you were ok, she still wanted a second opinion and your best friend her best option. 
“How bad was it?” Alex joins Sam and Kristie at their table. Sonnett, Lynn and Kelley was also at the same table.
“You want the truth?” Your wife nods her head “At first it was really bad. The physios couldn’t stop the bleeding and they didn’t want to go to hospital until they did. Y/N was out of it but she was trying to act fine. Her eyes wouldn’t focus on anything, it was almost like we weren’t in the room with her” Sam tries not to cry but the lump that if forming in her throat was making it difficult.
Alex didn’t share the same need for control. Her tears fell freely as she heard your best friend tell her what happened moment by moment. Turns out she did have a reason for concern and quite a few at that. Looking at the way you walked in you wouldn’t have thought anything had happened but after listening to Sam, Alex realised you had to be putting on a brave front.
When you return with a pyjama clad Charlie Alex tells the group that is is time for the Morgan - Y/L/N’s to go to bed. You saw the look in her eye and didn’t argue.
Once the door had shut Alex started to cry. 
“Hey hey, there’s no need to cry” you pull her in tight and hold her close. You knew that you would have scared Alex so you let her cry.
“You scared us” Alex speaks into your chest.
“I know, I’m sorry” you grab her hand and pull her towards the bed. Once sat down Alex buries her head in the crook of your neck and you hold her tightly again.
“Yeah mama, there was a lot of blood” Charlie walks over to the two of you. Alex pulls away and quickly wipes her eyes. She didn’t want your daughter to see her cry.
You wanted to say wait till they see your Matilda’s jersey which was now more red than yellow but now wasn’t the time for jokes. 
“I know there was but it all got cleaned up and then I got these to stop it from bleeding again” You point to your stitches. 
“I got you this” Charlie climbs onto your lap and holds up a band aid which had Pepper pig on. You take it off her and hand to Alex with a nod of you head. Alex then places the unnecessary band aid across the stitches but makes sure that the cushion covers your stitches.
“Can we watch a movie?” 
“Yes” Alex answers.
“Actually, the doctor told Mama she isn’t allowed to watch any movies tonight”
“You said you didn’t have a concussion” Alex whispers knowing full well what people who have concussions get told.
“I don’t but the brightness makes my headache worse” you reassure your wife.
“Why?” Your child was curious and didn’t understand why you wouldn’t be allowed.
“Because whilst I am ok, I do have a poorly head. What about a bedtime story instead?” 
Charlie happily takes you up on your offer and even gets herself into her bed. 
“What do you think Al, is it time our daughter finds out how we met?” 
Alex rolls her eyes at this. You two had very different sides when it came to the day you met. You were adamant that it was love at first sight, especially for Alex but she didn’t agree. 
“Only if you tell her the truth” 
Once Charlie is tucked up in bed you side on the side with Alex standing over you.
“It started when Australia played America. I had to mark your mommy and she kept trying to take my top off” This earned you a slap from Alex but a giggle from Charlie so it was worth it.
“I did not”
“You ripped it off me remember”
“It was an accident”
“Oh baby, you keep telling yourself that. Do you think it was an accident Charlie?”
“Nope” Charlie agrees with you, of course she did.
You continue telling the story and every so often you would hear Alex scoff at your recollation of events. She saw you as this cocky Aussie but you did catch her eye that first day but she wouldn’t call it love at first sight. Lust would be more appropriate given then you ended in her hotel room that night.
“Then a couple of years later your Mommy moved all the way to France because she missed me and wanted to see me everyday”
“I didn’t move for you. Well not just you”
“Ha! I knew it” you look up at Alex with a smug look in your face.
“I miss you everyday Mama” 
“And I miss you my sweet one”
You continue the story up to the point where you propose to Alex when you see Charlie trying really hard to fight sleep. You end it there and promise to finish it another time.
You get into your own bed, well technically it is Alex’s bed, and with a watchful eye you enjoy the show she is putting on as she gets changed.
“So I’ve been thinking” 
“Are you allowed to do that?” Alex jokes.
“Actually not but just allow it for the time being. My contract is up with Lyon this summer and I have meeting after the world cup to discuss my contract. How would you feel if I request a transfer?”
Never in all the years of dating and marriage had Alex asked you to leave Lyon, not even when Charlie was born. You were one of the best players in the world, Lyon was the team that made you into that and in return you gave them several champions league titles. Sure the topic had been brought up before but you were always under contract so it was hard.
“Are you saying you are ready to leave?”
“No. I’m ready to stop leaving. Charlie is getting older and you heard her, she misses me and I know you do” Alex throws her top at you “You do and I miss you too. I’ve given my life to that club but it’s time I put our family first”
You wouldn’t admit it but today scared you and you knew that it could have been a lot worse than it was. It made you appreciate these moments you had with your family and you wanted to have more of them even if it did mean moving the San Diego.
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merrybloomwrites · 3 months
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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 4)
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Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: After battling the symptoms of touch deprivation for weeks, Y/N sees Harry again in Chicago and he helps her deal with the worst of it.
Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3
Word Count: 4.9k
Y/N POV
“You haven’t had a nightmare in 4 days?” Rachel asks.
“Nope!” You reply happily, taking a sip of your iced caramel latte. You and Rachel both have a free afternoon and decided to meet at a local cafe. You feel so much better than you had for the last few weeks that you felt confident to order a different drink. No tea that reminds you of Sarah, no hot chocolate that makes you think of Harry.
“And you’re not using those coping mechanisms you mentioned?”
“Haven’t needed them in days.”
“And you’re still not going to tell me what they were?” You blush at this question, embarrassed by the truth.
“No, that secret may come with me to the grave,” you joke.
Rachel looks at you, slightly worried and says, “It was safe right? You weren’t like, drugging yourself to sleep were you?”
“Oh God no!” You reply with a laugh. “Nothing like that, I swear.” Though you think to yourself that Harry’s scent in its direct form would probably be so delicious that it would act like a drug to you.
“Okay, I trust you,” Rachel says. “So, have you heard from Harry?”
You sigh, slightly disappointed by the answer you have to give. “Not since the night of the concert. I’m sure he’s been busy.”
“Maybe you should text him first.”
“And maybe you are out of your mind. No way. And before you say anything, it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm the girl or he’s the alpha or any of that sexist bullshit. It has everything to do with the fact that he’s Harry Styles.” You whisper the last part, aware that you’re in public and anyone around could hear the conversation.
“So what if he’s Harry Styles?”
“What would I even text him?”
“You could start with ‘Hi, how are you?’”
“Very funny. I mean, I guess I could. Maybe. I’ll give it a couple more days.”
“Waiting for him to leave the area?”
“Something like that,” you reply.
“Speaking of procrastinating things,” Rachel says teasingly, “have you called your doctor yet? To find out why that alpha knew you’re an omega even though you’re on suppressants and scent blockers?”
“Okay, that I did not procrastinate on. I called her but I can’t get an appointment until November.”
“Seriously?”
“Yea. I mean there aren’t a lot of doctors who specialize in omegas, so they’re always booked. Anyway, she said that my body has probably just developed a resistance to the pills. She’ll try to change my regimen after the appointment and told me to use the spray on neutralizers until then.”
“That sucks.”
“It does. I am so not looking forward to changing meds. It takes awhile to find the right combo and then there’ll be all new side effects. But it’ll be worth it.”
“I wish omegas didn’t have to hide who they are.”
“Me too. But that’s just how it is now.”
From there the conversation turns to lighter topics until you part ways to continue your day.
Another week passes and you still haven’t heard from Harry. On top of that the bad dreams come back, along with the restlessness, and chills. You’ve started using the old coping mechanisms again, which barely work this time around.
The morning after his final show in New York City, your social media is flooded with videos of him receiving his banner at Madison Square Garden. If there was any time to reach out to him, now was it. He said he wanted to be friends, right? A friend would absolutely congratulate him on this achievement.
It still takes you forever to type out the message, and ever longer to find the courage to press send. It’s nearly noon by the time you text Harry, “Congrats on the banner!”
It’s a simple sentence, just four words, and you still find a way to overthink everything for the two hours it takes Harry to reply. You’re taking a walk, grateful once again that you work on your own schedule and can take a break when you need one. And right now, you need one. Because you texted a celebrity and he still hasn’t answered and you for sure made a complete fool of yourself.
You stop dead in your tracks when your phone buzzes and Harry’s name appears on your screen.
From Harry Styles: Thank you! Can’t believe I got such an honor. How are you? What are you up to?
There’s a bench nearby and you sit to reread his message five times before replying.
To Harry Styles: You deserve it! I’m good, just out for a walk. How about you?
The next message comes in much faster.
From Harry Styles: I’ve been doing well. Took it easy this morning, currently enroute to Texas for the next shows.
You can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s no longer just a city away. You know it’s silly, but it was nice that he was so close by.
To Harry Styles: Enjoy Texas!
From Harry Styles: Thank you! Have you ever been?
To Harry Styles: Once, in college. Went to San Antonio with some friends.
From Harry Styles: That’s a great city, love the river walk there!
And so, you and Harry Styes became friends who text each other about random things. You talk throughout his flight to Texas, and sporadically over the next couple of weeks. It never gets very deep, all surface level conversations, but it’s nice. You feel like you’re getting to know the real him, and he’s getting to know who you are as well.
The texts from Harry are the high points. The low points are, unfortunately, very low. The hot chocolate, and roses, and forest smelling candles are no longer helping you. Bad dreams happen almost every night, you’re constantly cold, and there’s an itch under your skin that just won’t go away. The voice in the back of your brain is telling you it’s touch deprivation, but you refuse to admit that to yourself. You’ve never needed an alpha, and you refuse to depend on one now. So no, you do NOT have touch deprivation.
You’re checking your email, and you see that there are still spots open for a job training opportunity in Chicago. You rarely go to these, but it’s been a while, and you think maybe it would be good to go. There are always new types of data software, and you found the last two training courses you attended to be pretty informative.
Looking at the dates you notice the course is the following Thursday and Friday. In Chicago. You also notice that Harry will be doing shows there at the same time. You don’t admit that’s what seals the deal for you, but it totally is.
After registering and setting up your flight and hotel reservation you send a text to Harry. You casually mention that you’ll be in Chicago the following weekend. You’re surprised when your phone starts to ring, and Harry’s name is on the screen.
You answer the phone and he’s first to speak, saying, “You’re gonna be in Chicago?”
“I am!” you reply, matching his excitement.
“Can you come to my shows?”
“Which days are they again?” You ask this to try and seem like less of a stalker.
“I’ve got one Thursday, Friday and Saturday. You’re welcome to come to as many of those as you want,” he answers.
“I think Thursday is an all-day thing, so I won’t be able to come to that one. The training ends with dinner on Friday evening so I think I could make it just in time for the concert.”
“Ok great, and Saturday?”
“I am free all-day Saturday. My flight back home is Sunday afternoon.”
“Wonderful. I’ll have tickets for you for those two shows. That is, if you want to come of course.”
“Harry, I absolutely want to come.”
“Then the tickets are yours. All the details will come from Jada. I’d be a mess without that girl.”
“You paying her well?” you ask jokingly.
“She’s compensated handsomely, I promise,” he replies with a laugh.
“Happy to hear it.”
“I uhm- it sounds like you won’t be able to come before the show Friday, correct?”
“Unfortunately, no. I’ll probably get there right before you go on.”
“Forgive me if this sounds forward, but would you want to hang out after? It would have to be at the hotel, I can’t really be out in the city after a concert.”
“Totally understand that. And yea, I’d love to hang out after.”
“Great! I’m staying at the Nobu Hotel.”
You quickly look it up and see that your hotel is close by.
“No way!” you reply. “I’m at the Crowne Plaza like, two blocks away.”
“Well, that’s convenient. I’ll make sure there’s a car to take you to Nobu after the show Friday if that works for you?”
“Yea that would be great. I’d love to hang out!” You cringe, hoping that didn’t come off too strong.
“I’d love to hang out as well. Listen I have to go to sound check for tonight’s show. I’ll text you soon. And look out for the email from Jada, it’ll have all the info you need.”
***
Harry POV
“You’re extra happy today,” Elin says as Harry bounces around the venue smiling so big that both dimples are showing.
“I am!” He replies. “Thanks for noticing!”
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Sarah asks. “Because it’s definitely not how this sound check is going.” She has a point there. No less than a dozen things have gone wrong since they started, leading them to take a break while the sound techs work out a few problems.
“Just talked to a friend who will be in town next week.”
“Oh I see,” Mitch says. “So Y/N will be here?”
“Yes, and she’ll be coming to the shows Friday and Saturday. I can’t wait to see her!”
“Aw, someone’s got a crush,” Pauli says.
Harry ignores the teasing from his band members and says, “Honestly I’ve been a bit worried about her. I’ve just had this feeling that keeps getting worse.”
“Why do you think it has to do with Y/N?” NyOh asks.
“I mean, I don’t know for sure. But we’ve talked on the phone a couple times, and she always sounds exhausted.”
“I’m sure she’s alright,” Sarah says reassuringly.
“I know, I just can’t help it.”
“I completely get that,” Sarah replies softly, looking towards her mate.
“Fixed it!” One of the sound techs calls out, effectively cutting off the conversation as Harry and the band get back to work.
***
Y/N POV
The next week passes in what feels like slow motion. Every hour drags on. Your apartment building hasn’t switched from air conditioning to heat yet, so you’re constantly wearing layers of warm clothes and burrowing under blankets. The itch under your skin only gets worse, spreading to new areas each day until there’s a maddening tingle throughout your whole body.
Amelia drops you off at the airport Wednesday afternoon. You know she can tell that something is wrong, but you don’t offer an explanation, so she doesn’t pry for details.
You put on your mask before walking into the terminal. It’s a habit leftover from the pandemic, and also a great way to block out the potential strange scents. Alphas and omegas might be rare, but there’s always a chance a few will be around in such a crowded place. You’re extra sensitive to smells at the moment due to the touch deprivation that you’ve finally admitted you have. But it’s mild. Totally manageable. Not a problem.
The plane ride and subsequent train trip and walk to the hotel is exhausting. You stop and grab some food on the way. After checking in you immediately eat your quick meal, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed.
You’re almost asleep when your phone digs with an incoming text. You’ve already texted your family and friends letting them know you’re at the hotel, so you’re annoyed that someone is interrupting your sleep.
That is, until you see who the message is from. Harry’s name pops up with a text asking if you made it safely to Chicago. You practically melt at how sweet it is that he’s checking in on you. You send a quick reply before immediately falling asleep.
The first day of the training session is typical- informative, but boring. Harry’s show is still going when you get back to the hotel, so you watch on a livestream. You’re still exhausted and fall asleep before it’s over.
Waking up the next morning is difficult. Your body feels heavy, like your bones are filled with lead. The chills seem worse than ever and you’re grateful you packed yourself a heavy sweater to wear that day. Not only is it warm, but it covers up the marks from where you’ve been scratching at the skin on your arms due to the incessant itching.
You have trouble concentrating on the training throughout the day. There was one alpha there, and he was somehow in every single session you attended. He didn’t have a bad scent per se, but his presence alone became overwhelming.
By the time the sessions are over, you feel exhausted. You debate skipping dinner altogether but know you at least need some food before you can start your walk to the United Center. The alpha, whose name you’ve learned is Andy, sits next to you at dinner. He seems nice enough, you don’t feel threatened by him, but you still want to finish dinner and get away from him as quickly as possible.
Once dessert is over you grab your bag, ready to escape. Andy stops you before you go, asking for your number. Without thinking you quickly say, “I have a boyfriend,” and hastily leave the restaurant.
You’re not far from the venue, only a few blocks away, and you’re so out of it that you barely notice where your legs are taking you. It only takes fifteen minutes to get there, but you’re on edge the whole time. Glancing at your watch you see that it’s just before 8PM, meaning Harry should still be backstage.
You’re tired, and dizzy, and a little fuzzy, but knowing you’re so close to seeing Harry again has you moving faster than you thought possible. You’ve even built up a slight sweat, and you feel warm for the first time in weeks causing you to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.
As you approach the building you hear your name being called. You turn to see Jada running up to you.
 “I didn’t think you’d be here so early! Glad I was talking to one of the security guards, you walked right past the entrance,” she says.
You smile as she hands you your VIP badge and leads you inside.
“Harry has a few minutes before he needs to finish getting ready. He’ll be glad you made it before he goes on, I know he’s been dying to see you,” Jada says, causing you to blush.
“Well, I can’t wait to see him either,” you reply.
She knocks on a door which opens a second later. The first person you see is Mitch, who gives you a hug as he says, “Hey kid, good to see you again.”
“You too!” you answer, somewhat surprised by the warm greeting.
Sarah’s there too, pulling you in to a hug next. The moment her arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re overcome with a wave of dizziness. Black spots flash in your vision and you blink rapidly to try and clear them.
“You okay, love?” she asks as she lets go and takes a step back.
After a couple deep breaths you answer, “I’m good. Practically ran here from dinner, still catching my breath I guess.”
Harry, who’s been quietly watching you quickly walks to the fridge and grabs a water bottle. You reach out your hand so he can pass it to you, and see his eyes focus on your arm. There’s no way he missed the angry red scratch marks there, but you immediately pull your sleeves back down to hide them anyway.
“Can we have a moment?” Harry asks, causing Mitch, Sarah, and Jada to promptly exit and close the door behind them. He motions to the couch, and you’re reminded of the last time the two of you were in his dressing room together.
Like the last time, you sit next to each other, but he seems to be giving you more space. This confuses you. If he’s so excited to see you, why didn’t he greet you with a hug like everyone else? And why is he so far away now? And why does he seem so serious instead of happy?
“Y/N, I have a question, and it’s kind of personal, but I’d like you to answer honestly,” he starts.
“Okay,” you reply, taken aback by this turn of events.
He’s quiet for a moment, seeming to think of exactly what he wants to ask. Finally, he settles on, “Where did those scratches come from?”
“My arms were itchy,” you reply. Not a lie, though probably not the full truth he’s looking for.
“And the dizziness? Cause I don’t think it was from your walk. You seemed fine until Sarah touched you. Until an alpha touched you.”
You know what he’s getting at. He’s no dummy. Just minutes after seeing you he’s figured out what you’ve been hiding for weeks. Hiding from everyone, including yourself.
He watches you, and you know he’s waiting for an answer. But you can’t think of one to give him. So, he continues, “Y/N, I think you have touch deprivation. Is that fair to say?”
You let out a shuddery breath and nod. “Yea, that’s fair to say.”
“It seems pretty severe.”
You finally decide to open up, saying, “It’s been getting worse the past couple weeks. I don’t think my meds are working anymore, and the soonest doctors appointment I could get still isn’t for a couple weeks.”
“I’m worried you’re close to a drop. Like, any minute now. Or that you’ll go under if I touch you. You realize that you were close with Sarah, right? That if you’d stayed in contact with her, or if she’d released any pheromones you’d be in a full drop right now?”
Part of you wants to snark back, yell at him for going full alpha male and acting like he knows your body better than you. But the problem is, he’s right. It’s been so long since the last time you dropped that you forgot what it’s like. You forgot what the signs are.
But now that he’s pointed out the obvious, you really start to feel it. He sees as you deflate, starting to fold in on yourself. His hand reaches out, wanting to comfort you in some way, but he can’t. He can’t risk sending you into a drop, not when he has a show to do in just twenty minutes.
“You’re right,” you finally say. “I didn’t realize it. I thought I was handling it, that I could make it to my doctor’s visit and get new soothers and I’d be okay. I just don’t know what to do if I don’t have meds that work.”
“I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me.”
You finally meet his eyes and see that he’s completely serious.
After a moment you nod and reply, “Okay.”
“Okay? You’ll let me help?”
“Yes. I don’t know what else to do. And uhm, I trust you. You’re a good person, Harry. A good alpha.”
He smiles at your words before glancing at the clock and saying, “I have to finish getting ready in a minute. I’d still like to hang out after the concert. I think it might be healthy for you to do a drop with me there, if you’re comfortable with that?”
“I mean, I don’t like dropping. It’s only happened to me twice before and I was alone each time, so they weren’t good experiences. But maybe it will be different if you’re there?”
“I can help you through it, if you’ll let me.”
“What would you do to help? Like, how do alphas help omegas through that?”
“It depends on what you consent to but ah, I would hold you, help you get the touch your omega needs. Most alphas will scent the omega. It lets them know that they’re not alone, that someone is there protecting them, keeping them safe while they can’t do so themselves. I’d also release calming pheromones to keep your omega relaxed.”
“Okay. I’m okay with all of that. I’d like that,” you answer. Truthfully you’re a bit nervous. Harry Styles has just offered to hold you, to scent you for goodness sakes. That’s incredibly intimate. But you’ve felt so awful for weeks, and there are still weeks to go before you can get new soothers. And this is kind of a dream come true.
“Do you want to stay here for the concert? You can hang in here or go to the VIP box. Or you can head to the hotel now and take it easy if you’d like,” he says.
“I’ll stay in here if that’s alright,” you reply.
“It’s more than alright,” he answers. “And if at any point you want to get out of here just text Jada. She can arrange a ride back to my hotel and I’ll meet you there after the show. Or if you change your mind she can get you a ride back to your hotel too.”
“Thank you, Harry. For everything.”
“Of course. I know I don’t know you all that well, but I care about you. Anyway, I uhm, need to get dressed so I’m just gonna step into the bathroom for a moment.”
“I can go in the hall for a minute, get out of your way-”
“Nonsense. You’re not in the way. I’ll be right back.”
Harry finishes getting ready, and you make yourself comfortable on the couch. A couple of people come in, touching up his hair and make-up and before you know it he’s heading to the stage.
You watch on the screen in the room for the first few songs. After a while Jada joins you and you ask if you can watch from the VIP section for a bit. It goes well until Harry and the band take a break. You’d been so focused on the music that you were distracted from everything else around you.
But now all you can hear are all the other people, and it’s overwhelming. It becomes difficult to breathe, and you start to see dark spots once again.
You turn to Jada, and she immediately leads you back to the dressing room.
“Do you want to wait for Harry, or do you want to leave now?” she asks.
“I think I should go,” you reply.
“To your hotel, or his?”
“Harry’s, please.”
“Okay, wait here, I’ll get the car and come back for you in a minute.”
You sit back on the couch, seeking out Harry’s scent to calm you, but it’s barely noticeable.
Jada comes back and you follow her to the car. It’s a quiet ride to the hotel, and once there, she goes with you to the suite.
His room is on the top floor. It’s big, basically a full apartment, and you stay in what seems to be the living room. Jada sits on the couch with you, and you say, “I feel like you have more important things to do than babysit me.”
She laughs and says, “It’s not babysitting. I like hanging out with you. And you’re a priority to Harry. Which makes you a priority to me.”
The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence for a while until Jada’s phone buzzes. “Shows over,” she says. “Harry’s just getting changed and then he’ll be here soon. He said you can borrow some of his clothes if you want to get comfy.”
You hesitate and she adds, “I have no problem going through his stuff. I can grab you some clothes if you want.” You laugh at that and nod.
A short while later you’ve changed into a pair of Harry’s sweatpants, as well as a t-shirt and hoodie. They smell like him, and you shamelessly inhale the scent you’ve been craving for weeks. The suite door opens, and Harry walks in, looking incredibly cozy in his own pair of sweats.
“Thank you, Jada,” he says. “Get some rest, you’ve earned it.”
“Night guys,” she says as she leaves the room.
You’re left alone with Harry. It feels different, here in his hotel room, surrounded by his belongings, while you’re wearing his clothes.
“You left early,” he says.
“Sorry,” you reply.
“Don’t be. I’m just worried as to why you left.”
“I was just overwhelmed. Needed some quiet.”
“I understand. Y/N, are you ready for this? You still seem on the edge of a drop.”
“I’m ready.”
“And have you changed your mind about anything? Or is it okay if I hold and scent you through this?”
You pause for a moment, scared at how vulnerable you’re about to be. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want you to do that. I trust you.”
He takes a step towards you. “Thank you, for trusting me. We’ll probably be more comfortable in the bed.”
“Lead the way,” you say.
It’s awkward at first, the two of you sitting next to each other in his bed, backs resting against the headboard.
He turns to you and says, “Can I hold you now?”
You nod, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you until you’re tucked under his chin and resting against his chest.
Everything starts to get fuzzy, and you feel yourself losing consciousness. It’s an unsettling feeling, but you know that Harry is there to help you through this.
The last thing you hear before it all goes black is Harry calmly saying, “I’ve got you. Let go. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Harry can’t describe the helplessness he feels as you go limp in his arms. He doesn’t allow himself to stress, or panic, knowing that his emotions will impact you. Instead, he takes some calming breaths and thinks through everything he knows he needs to do in this situation.
He hears you whimper quietly as you start to shiver, and he doesn’t hesitate to soothe you. It takes some maneuvering, but soon you’re both laying down in the bed. He tucks his nose into your neck and begins to scent you, releasing calming pheromones until you relax.
It continues this way for the next couple of hours. Harry holds you, and scents you, his nose rubbing against the gland in your neck. During one moment when you seem particularly distressed he can’t help but place kisses there to soothe you faster.
Finally, you start to stir. It takes longer than Harry had anticipated, so he’s relieved when your eyes meet his after hours of being closed.
“Hey there,” he says with a soft smile.
“Hi,” you answer groggily. “How long?”
“Couple hours. Your inner omega needed the rest. Now you need some too. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”
It’s the same words he said before you dropped. You wish you could hear that all the time. No one has cared for you before, not like this. It feels good, but you remind yourself not to get used to it. Still, you curl into his embrace, enjoying every moment of contact with Harry that you can get.
The next thing you know, it’s late morning. You’re still cuddling against Harry, and his deep breaths indicate he’s still sleeping.
You feel amazing. You’re nice and warm, your mind is clear, and the constant itch and restlessness are nonexistent. You’re extremely grateful, but at the same time, you’re annoyed that you need to depend on another person just to feel normal. But you don’t dwell on that. Because Harry is starting to stir next to you.
“Hey,” he says when your eyes meet his. “How do you feel? Sleep okay?” God, you could melt at the gravelly sound of his morning voice.
“I’m good. Feel better than I have in a long time. And according to that clock, I slept wonderfully.” The two of you laugh, seeing that it’s nearly noon.  
“I was hoping to treat you to a nice breakfast, but I guess I missed the window on that,” Harry says, continuing to laugh with you. “I do still have plenty of time before I need to be at the arena. Would you like to spend the afternoon with me exploring Chicago?”
“I’d love to,” you reply. His face breaks out in a huge smile before he leans down, once again running his nose along your scent gland. You go limp at the feeling, happily submitting to him.
You don’t think about the fact that this is temporary. That you leave to fly home tomorrow afternoon. That you’ll be without his alpha scent once again.
Instead, you think about the hours you have ahead of you, hours to spend with Harry. Nothing could be more perfect.  
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AN: Thank you so much for reading! This was one of the scenes I imagined when I first thought of the story and I'm so happy that it's finally shared with you all!
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