#i guess technically i do have friends who are men
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purplecrimson · 2 days ago
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This made me think a lot about my own experience with non-queer people, thank you for both of your posts @genderqueerdykes and @kithpendragon ^^
As a (very) young queer adult who is still hiding from their aphobic and transphobic family, I am really glad I had queer friends who helped me out and comforted me during my childhood and my teenage years.
My experiences with cishet people of my generation were more mixed: while most women (/ girls depending on their age at that time) seemed to genuinely care about me and tried to understand the problems I was facing, I could not meet a cishet man who was an ally; in fact, I heard the most transphobic sh*t while trying to do so, and some of it came from one of my friends, which really hurt me (and I couldn't even stand up for myself, I was too weak...). Therefore, I started growing bitter towards all cishet men, which even resulted in me disliking myself for being transmasc. Online spaces I was in did not help me dealing with this insecurity.
But in September 2023, upon entering higher education, I met a professor - a cishet man - who has been making a difference in my life, by being kind-hearted, compassionate and thoughtful. Some gushing incoming :D
He was the first person outside of my friend circle I dared coming out to. I sent him a shy email asking if I could change my name and pronouns without the academic institution telling my parents, even if it was not technically authorised (I was still a minor). He had a perfect reaction, informed all of the other professors and offered his help in case someone decided to be transphobic.
But he did not just treat me decently. He went out of his way (even when he did not have to) to make my life as comfortable as it could be as a trans person, ensuring, for example, that I was misgendered in the least possible amount of documents. And when I was feeling scared or sad, I knew I could talk to him about it - he would always listen. Heck, he even called me during last summer holydays, even if he is not my professor anymore, when he somehow learnt that I was depressed and ready to quit my studies.
And of course, he is a brilliant, charismatic, motivating and captivating professor - everyone loves him. I ended up realising he made me want to become a researcher or a professor in his field, which gave me back some hope and energy. And I often come back to his classroom to chat or ask him for some advice - his door is always open. He is also rather skilled in reminding me that I should be more self-confident!
One could say he saved me, without knowing it. I don't think he has any idea how much of an impact he's had on my life. I am still trying to find a way to thank him, to tell him how much I admire and look up to him before I move to a university far away. I can't even begin to word it.
Weirdly, the fact that he is a cishet man has been sticking in my head too. Now, I understand why: I guess he gives me back hope from a more political point of view too, and makes me feel less shameful to say that yes, I am transmasc (even if I still have to work on this...).
i feel like the entire online queer community collectively forgot, or rather pretends that queer allies don't exist. like. we literally have a term and even a flag for queer allies. they exist. assuming every single perisex cishet person hates queer people isn't the way to go. allies are a very real and important part of our community. allies challenge the status quo by saying, i'm not queer, but i support what you're doing. they exist. they're out there- and yes, many of them are cishet men.
please don't forget this, or pretend that they don't exist: allies are an extremely important part of our history, community, and safety.
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ihavebeesinmybrain · 8 months ago
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it’s so confusing to me when people are friends with a man
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idkwhatever580 · 4 months ago
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Holy Shit!
Pairings: G!P Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Prompt: During the ceremony for Y/n and Natasha’s wedding, all of Y/n’s and Natahsa's bridesmaids/men slip Polaroids of Y/n's boudoir shoots throughout the night which leads to a hard time for Natasha.
Warnings: slight mentions of family trauma I guess (not having a dad), SMUT, P in V (Natasha has a penis), rough sex, boudoir pictures, unusually dominant reader (it mentions that nat is usually top), toys, teasing, swearing, praise, orgasm denial, degradation, wife kink sort of?, mommy kink, let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: I hope y'all like this one! I've been thinking about how to approach it for a while now and I think I'm ready. Also, this is going to be my first time using my laptop to write so if it is a little weird, I apologize, I'm still figuring out everything from the switch. I'm sorry for the random pov switch. I was all mixed up, but I'm too lazy to fix it. :)
Sidenote: -Y/f/i = your first initial -Y/n/n = your nickname -Detka= baby - Dorogoy= darling
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Natasha and I just had the most amazing night of our lives, we got married! but the fun is not over yet.
I have devised a plan that has been in the works for a few months. Honestly, I knew I wanted to do this for Nat even before we proposed to each other. Although I only started truly planning it out after we got engaged.
I went to a boudoir photoshoot. Naturally I needed someone to take pictures. I didn't want Nat to be mad that someone else saw my body, so I asked Wanda, my best friend who has seen my literal everything (one time she literally had to pull my tampon out because I broke both my arms and Nat wasn't home to help), and she helped me get the best pictures ever. Then, I moved onto the second phase of my plan, recruiting.
Natasha and I already had our list of bridesmaids/men in place, so I made sure to use all of them. Natasha had four and I had five.
Natasha's bridesmaids/men are Clint as her Man of Honor, and Yelena, Tony, and Steve.
My bridesmaids/men are Wanda as my Maid of Honor, Kate, Bucky, Carol, and Thor (even though he doesn't quite understand "earthling" weddings yet.)
They all thankfully agreed, even Yelena which was surprising, and I picked out the best photos and put them in order. So, my plan was set and now all I need to do is trust our friends to get the pictures to her. Which I don't even have to worry about that, Wanda has the list and all of the pictures, so she is going to hand them to the set brides' person at the set time and they will deliver it secretly to Nat.
She's gonna be so hard by the end of the night, which is technically my plan. Of course, we've had sex before, and we already plan on fucking later, but she definitely is going to fuck hard tonight.
We are getting to our venue for the celebration after the wedding now and Nat and I have been together the whole car ride, which wasn't that long, but we went for a ride together in the limo so that everyone could get there before our grand entrance.
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You step out of the limo carefully and walk hand in hand to the building. Even though you have already seen the inside and all the decorations, you are still blown away by the beauty of it all.
You and Nat have a planned entrance where she walks in first and then you walk in and "fall" into her to the song Fallin' for Ya.
Everyone cheers for you all, and you both stand together to talk to people. You lean over to speak in Nat's ear so she can hear over the noise the second you see Wanda slip the first photo to Thor, who remembers exactly what to do, thankfully. "Nat, I'm going to talk to Wands real quick are you okay to stay here for a sec?"
She nods her head and says back, "Of course detka, don't keep me waiting too long now"
You smile and nod your head and leave to Wanda, but not without giving Nat a soft peck on the cheek. Thank God for Lip stain, you think, or else both yours and Nat's lip color would be all over your faces by now, especially from that limo ride.
You walk up to Wanda and say "oh my gosh, I'm so scared! What if something goes wrong?"
She giggles at your stressed face knowing there is nothing to worry about, and says, "Hey! Deep breath. Don't be scared, Thor has practiced many times, he is going to get it right."
You nod and keep talking beside Wanda as you subtly watch your wife engage with her friends.
Thor finally walks up to Natasha and casually slips her the first polaroid, and you can't wait to see the look on her face. All of the people Nat is talking to are part of the plan so they know what is happening.
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She furrows her eyebrows when she looks at her hand to see that Thor has given her a polaroid upside down so she can't see it. She looks up to ask him what it was, but he was already long gone, so she flips it over not suspecting a thing. She takes one look at the picture and her eyes go wide. She immediately presses the picture to her chest and looks up to find you smiling at her innocently as if she didn't just get handed this.
You send her a soft wave and go back to "talking" with Wanda, and Natasha checks to make sure nobody is behind her and looks again. She smirks at the picture and slides it into the hidden pocket in her dress that was made for a gun in case she needs to protect you, but now it holds something even more valuable to her.
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It has been about fifteen minutes since Nat received her first "gift" and even though she asked about it, you acted stupid and didn't tell her anything saying, "What picture? I didn't take any pictures other than the ones after the ceremony with all our brides' people."
You are now about to cut the cake which is when the next picture is going to be given to her. You decided that every time she gets a pic, the next one is going to be even better than the first. It will really rile her up you think. So as you two walk over there, hand in hand, you walk by Tony who hands her the next polaroid as she passes by him. This time she knows not to look until she is at the cake table where nobody is behind her.
She has an arm around your waist and she sneaks a peak at the next photo.
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This one makes her huff out a breath, and she looks over at you who is "oblivious" to the thing she just saw. She squeezes your side as she slips the photo, once again, into her pocket, and you smile slyly at her. She leans over to whisper, "You know what you're doing Y/n."
You both pick up the knife and you say, "Doing what? Cutting the cake?"
She rolls her eyes at you and you both cut the cake and feed each other a slice. Then you both go back to the table that only you and her sit at, and you add, "Of course I know what I'm doing, why else would I do it?" Then you go back to eating your slice of cake acting just as innocent as before.
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You just had your first dance, and it was beautiful, the song you both picked together was a testament of your love and it brought tears to everyone's eyes.
Then, you decided instead of a father daughter dance, to have a Maid/Man of Honor dance. You danced with Wanda and talked and laughed, while Natasha and Clint did the same.
It was beautiful really. You had decided to do this because, even though Natasha has Alexie, you wouldn't have been able to participate since your dad is no longer in your life. The dance with your best friends meant infinitely more than a dance with your fathers would have anyways, and thankfully Alexie wasn't hurt by this. He realized he wasn't a good "dad" in the beginning of her life, and it wasn't his position.
As the dances concluded, Clint smirked at Natasha, and he reached into his suit pocket to pull something into his hand and slipped another polaroid into her hand.
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People start joining on the dance floor to have some fun and Nat looks down at the photo and says, "Holy Shit!" maybe just a little too loud making her blush. She shakes her head as Clint laughs and walks off to his wife and kids, but not before Nat punches his shoulder softly, and then she glares at you.
You smile cheekily at her as you walk to her for another dance. You start slow dancing together and say, "Hey baby, whatcha doin?"
She smiles softly at you and says, "Thinking about my beautiful wife and what she and I are doing later tonight."
You make a fake surprise face in the shape of a soft 'o' and say, "Is that right?"
She giggles into your neck, and it is the most beautiful sound you could hear and hums, "mhm"
You smile as you spin her around the dance floor and say, "Well thank you for the compliment baby, but whatever you're thinking is going to have to wait. We promised each other we wouldn't leave earlier than we planned, remember?"
She groans and nods her head in slight defeat mumbling, "I know we did."
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You are now both talking to Natasha's family about what is next for you both. Melina starts out with, "So, when am I getting some grandbabies?"
You and Nat both exchange glances and look back at them and you say, "Well... I uh-" You freeze not knowing what to say.
Thankfully though, Natasha is there for you and says, "Y/n has decided she does not want to give birth. I obviously can't give birth given my situation, and I won't be disrespecting my wife's wishes, so we are going to take it slow as we weigh our other options."
You smile softly knowing that you picked the right girl to be your wife. She literally always has your back. Finally, having composed yourself you cut in as well and say, "We also have decided that we want to live our lives together before we settle down. We want to have the right parenting mindset you know."
Melina and Alexie nod their heads and smile Melina replies, "Well I don't care how or when it happens, I just want a grandbaby." As she is speaking, Yelena inches closer to Nat and then she 'holds' her hand briefly, but in reality, she is slipping the next picture into her hand. Nat's smile widens at the thought of another picture and Yelena walks off to go find Peter and bother him.
Natasha feels like she needs to look at this picture, but she can't if her parents are standing right in front of you, so she smiles when a song she knows comes on and says, "Mama, Papa listen, it's your song! Go dance!" She ushers them off and then turns to you to look at the photo.
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This one makes her giggle, so you quirk an eyebrow and say, "What's the problem? Don't like it?"
She widens her eyes a tiny bit and shakes her head so much that you laugh and say, "Alright calm down, you'll mess up your hair"
She smiles and says, "I love it so much, I was just laughing because you could totally be wearing this under your dress since it's white."
All you do is smirk at her and it takes a second for her to process, but she gets it and her mouth falls agape just a bit. You simply walk off and Wanda comes over to say, "Come on! It's time for the flower toss!"
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Both you and Natasha agreed on doing a flower toss, only one is for the guys, and one is for the girls. Your reasoning being that the girls can get a little rough and you wouldn't want any of the boys to get hurt or anything like that. The boys can be very sensitive. ;)
So Natasha does the first toss to the boys, which includes Valkyrie as well since they are feeling more masculine today. (Like a king should). Thankfully nobody got into any fights since they're respectable people. After a bit of laughter, Clint comes out victorious and says he and Laura are simply going to renew their vows. Then he hands Laura the bouquet, and she smiles kissing him softly earning an aww from everyone.
Your toss is next and Loki decided to join in on the girls side since they are feeling more feminine. (Queen shit). The girls didn't get in any fights but they were definitely more aggressive than the boys. Scary, but the one who comes out with the bouquet is surprisingly Carol, who looks over at Val and smirks.
While your toss is happening though, Bucky walks up to an unsuspecting Natasha as she watches the girls' chaos enfold and he gives her a sly smile. By now she has caught onto him and says, "You too?"
He nods his head and says, "You never know which one will be the last." and then he slides the polaroid into her hand like a drug dealer and walks off like nothing happened.
The toss ends right around the same time that her exchange with Buck ends, so you're already making a b-line for her to see her reaction to this photo. She shields herself with your body to look and she swiftly turns the photo.
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She groans as she slips yet another keepsake in her hidden pocket. You smile as she leans her head on your shoulder, which to anyone else would look like she's just cuddling up to you, but you know better. So you lean really close to her ear and whisper, "Are you hard baby?"
She simply nods her head. Thank God she fell in love with a decently poofy dress that doesn't show the contours of her dick. Especially since most people don't know about her little friend down there, not that it's any of their business, but they don't know because she always tucks it for events and missions. However, most of the main Avengers know, having all walked in on you two at least once. So, you walk to your table and sit down so she can have a break. You giggle at her when she's taking a few breaths and say, "What? You act like you haven't seen me naked before."
She glares at you and says, "No, it's not that. It's the fact that my lovely beautiful wife keeps catching me off guard, and might I also add the fact that she is so incredibly hot that I can barely handle myself?"
This makes you blush softly, and she smiles at you. You two share a sweet moment even through the dirty part.
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Thankfully Nat has had a few minutes for her... stuff to calm down, because Wanda picks up the mic and starts speaking, "I'd like to make some toast please."
You both giggle at the joke she stole from Agnes in Despicable Me 2, one of the movies that brought both you and Wanda childlike comfort during hard nights, while everyone else quiets down for the speeches. Wanda continues, "We are going to start our speeches now, so could Melina and Alexie please come up?"
Both of Natasha's parents stand by you and Melina starts, "I was not in Natasha's life for a very long time, so I don't feel like I am in a position to give a grand speech about yada yada this and that, but I do want to say, from the moment I saw you Natasha, I knew you were good. I knew you would become successful, and I knew you would excel in life. I am so happy that you have found love with Y/n, because you two are the perfect match, and I could not be more honored to be your mother-in-law Y/n."
She passes the mic to Alexie who, up until now, has had a stern face on. "Natasha, Melina already said all of the words I had for you, but she did not speak on this. Y/n, when I first met you I thought that you were never going to marry my daughter. I didn't think you were worthy of such a woman as Natasha, but as you got to know me more, my view on you changed. You kept pushing with her family even when you could have lost hope on us. You proved that you are willing to do anything it takes to get her, and I now see that you are more than worthy of Natasha's love."
He turns into a sobbing mess before he can finish anything else, and their words make you cry, but you try to keep from sobbing since you spent so much on your makeup. Then the speakers continue to go up and give their speech, make you cry, and then move on.
Clint gets the mic eventually and he takes a big breath and then starts, "When I met Natasha, I was on a mission to eliminate her. I was about to take the shot when we made eye contact, and something in me said no. I just could not pull the trigger, because what I was told I was going to be killing was an assassin, a robot, a tool. What I saw that day was anything but those things. I saw a girl who needed out, who was hurting, and that day turned into one of the best days of my life. We hid in vents for so long making sure that she was safe from the people who had her. We did nothing but play tic-tac-toe, rock paper scissors, and plan. We planned on how I was going to tell Fury that I did the exact opposite of what he told me to do. In reality I was actually more scared of Agent Hill, she's very scary, but I digress... All I really need to say is, as an archer, whenever people ask what the best shot I ever took was, I am honored to say it was the one I didn't take."
When Clint hands the mic over, there is not a single dry eye in the whole venue. Clint goes to Nat, and she hugs him so tight you think that he might die from lack of air. When they pull away, she kisses his cheek and whispers something in his ear, while he wipes her tear away and nods his head. He goes back to his seat and Wanda steps up to start her yap session.
"Y/n/n, when we met at the compound, there was something about you that was different than everyone else, you seemed so familiar, and I just could not pin it. We became great friends, but it took me about four months to realize why you seemed so familiar to me. One day when I was hanging out in your room, you opened your jewelry box in front of me and showed me a bracelet. It had little beads on it that said W+(Y/f/i). I burst into tears when it hit me. This girl,"
She points to you before she continues, "Was the girl that saved my life. We were friends from way back when we still lived in Sokovia. We had made these matching bracelets the day that we lost our families. It was also the day I lost her. Or so I thought. We were all hanging out in the living room together when it happened. Y/n felt shaking from the first few bombs and she told me and Piet to hide under the bed while she went to find her parents and make sure they were safe. Then the bombs went off. I thought we lost her. So we mourned both our parents and my best friend that day. It wasn't until I found out it was her all these years later that I knew she was also safe from the bombings but was taken. HYDRA took her from our lives, but the universe brought her back to us, and I could not be more grateful for her. I owe my life to her, and I have made sure she knows how deserving she is of happiness as her best friend, and now it is Natasha's turn, as her wife, to take what I have done and take it a step further."
This time it was you who is bawling; Wanda goes to hug you, and she whispers into your ear, "I'm so, so proud of you." Which only makes you want to cry more, but you pull away and take a labored breath as Wanda cleaned up your face.
All of the main avengers and people in your lives have gone except for Steve, who is finishing up.
Steve hands the mic to Wanda and walks to you and Natasha to "hug" y'all, but in reality he is actually slipping yet another polaroid into Nat's hand.
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She rolls her teary eyes at him and you both, and takes a glance at it before having to look away knowing her erection will just come back.
You smirk at her and say, "Ooh that one was fun, but you'll like the next one even more."
She groans and says, "There's more?"
You giggle softly and say, "Why of course there is more my love."
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Wanda decided to add a little fun into the night and do the who knows them better game. What you do is you sit on a chair and Natasha sits with her back to you and you both have a shoe that represents one or the other, and whoever did the thing first you raise that shoe to see if you know each other.
So, Wanda starts with the first question on the list she made, "Who said 'I love you' first?" Both of you raise your shoe and they all 'aww'
Wanda passes the mic to Tony who asks, "Who is the clingiest."
The crowd is surprised when both of you raise Natasha's shoe. The mic is passed to Yelena who says, "Which of you is the most romantic."
This time, Natasha raises your shoe, and you raise hers, which makes everyone giggle a bit. The game continues to entertain the crowd, and Kate has the last question, "Who loves Halloween more?"
This one is tough since you both love Halloween so much, but you ultimately decide on Natasha, and Natasha puts up both shoes to signify it being a tie.
The game is finished now, and you both tell Kate, that the Halloween one was probably the hardest to choose. Though, you know it is about to be Natasha.
Kate laughs and hugs Nat and pats the next picture into Natasha's chest before walking away casually. Natasha's face heats up at the mere thought of your next image and she secretly takes a look at this one.
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This Picture has her jaw on the floor. She loves the scream movies entirely too much, and the image of you in a sexy cosplay is seemingly never going to leave her mind. She can feel her cock spring back to life, and it almost hurts at how hard she is.
Natasha seems to snap and can't take it anymore, so she grabs your hand and starts taking you to the bathroom without trying to raise too much suspicion which is exactly what you knew would happen, so you look over at Carol and nod your head to begin her mission.
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Nat pulls you into the hallway and can't even make it to the bathroom before she has her lips on yours. You kiss her back softly but push her away before she can go too far. "Natty baby, what do you think you're doing?"
She tries to kiss you again, but you push her off of you again, "Detka, I don't think I can make it much longer."
You fake pout and say, "But you promised! You pinky promised me we wouldn't leave early."
She stomps her foot throwing a bit of a tantrum and says, "I promised before I knew you were pulling this shit!"
You smirk and say, "Come on baby, only thirty more minutes, you can make it. Just think, if you wait, the reward is going to be so much better, yes?"
She grumbles under her breath and Carol comes in right on queue saying, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything ladies."
Both of you shake your heads and Carol comes by to say, "Y/n, Wanda is looking for you."
You smile at her and thank her before kissing Nat on the cheek and leaving swiftly. Natasha and Carol stay behind and chat a bit. "You knew about this bullshit?"
Carol smirks and says, "What bullshit?"
Natasha groans and then Carol says, "Of course I am in on the bullshit, I hope you like this one." She pats Natasha's shoulder and then says, "Oh, lighten up, at least you have something to look forward to when you leave tonight.
Natasha already has her hand out ready for the next picture of you and Carol carefully puts it into her hand before swiftly exiting the hallway.
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After Natasha sees this one, she thinks she might burst. She can't help but stare right into the eyes of the most beautiful person in all the multiverses. But she also stares at your body as well.
A thought pops into her mind and she thinks, the bathroom is right there and I still have a few minutes...
but ultimately she shakes her head knowing that if you found out she jerked off before your honeymoon, you'd surely not let her cum the rest of the time, so she walks back into the reception.
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Most of the people have left by now, only a few stragglers, the avengers, and close family are left. You both decided to keep the drinking on the low for this night, not wanting any unplanned things to happen.
Both of you are very big on consent, and the fact that you can't consent when under the influence. You also both know that you want to remember tonight in a good way.
You're having a few slow dances with some of your friends and Wanda is the last one before the last dance with you and Natasha. Wanda spins you around one last time as the song closes out, and Nat is waiting for you to be handed over to her.
Wanda smiles at Natasha and goes to hug her, while they are having a sweet moment together, she smirks and says, "I hope you're ready for this one, I had so much fun taking these pictures."
Nat rolls her eyes and lets Wanda slide the last photo into her hand, but not before saying , "So you're the side hoe?"
Wanda giggles and nods her head, "Did you expect any less?"
Natasha sighs and shakes her head, "I'm glad it was you and not some random person."
Wanda smiles and nods her head saying, "She definitely saved the best for last."
Raising her eyebrows suggestively at Nat while she walks off, you walk up to Nat and hold out your hand saying, "You ready for our last dance?"
"Oh, I'm more than ready, just let me see this last one."
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Natasha almost can't tear her eyes away from this one, she is immediately painfully hard, and you have to take the polaroid and put it into her pocket yourself saying, "Natty, people are watching, we have to dance one last song so we can leave."
Nat nods her head and stars slow dancing with you, but you know exactly what to do. You rest your head on her shoulder and make your bodies slightly uneven so that your thigh/hip area is slightly pressing into Natasha's hard on, making her whimper into your ear.
You can't deny it, you're incredibly wet right now, but Natasha has had a much longer night than you, and you're only going to make it seem longer. You lean close to her ear and whisper softly. To everyone left, it looks like you're just saying something cute to her, but you know better. "Baby, when we leave, we are not having sex in the limo. It is our wedding night, and I don't care how hard you are, we are waiting the ten-minute car drive, got it?"
The way you speak is so soft and tender, yet it is firm and leaves no room for complaints. So Nat lets out a soft whine, but she ultimately nods her head and says, "Okay."
You smile and continue to feed words into her mind, "You're so hot, it's hard to not just jerk you off right here baby. I swear when we get home, I'm letting you do whatever you want to me."
Natasha's knees almost give out, but she somehow manages to keep dancing with you, and you both spin each other around. You two have a sweet moment again, temporarily ignoring your hunger for each other, dancing around the floor until the end of the song where you start waving goodbye to everyone and you head off.
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The ride to the villa you're both staying at before your flight tomorrow to your honeymoon destination is full of teasing and groping. You start massaging Nat's cock through her dress, and she moans softly and whispers at you with pleading eyes, "Detka, I- I thought you said no sex in the limo?"
You smirk and say, "I said no sex. I didn't say I wouldn't touch you, but I guess if that's what you want."
You take your hand off of her with a knowing smirk. She widens her eyes and huffs at you, "I don't know which is worse, you touching me, or not touching me."
You chuckle at her and shrug your shoulders, "You wanted to play by the rules. I don't make them, but I do listen to you... sometimes."
Nat snorts at your quip and you guys laugh a little, being a cute couple. Then, the limo pulls into the beautiful villa where all your things were previously put for your weeklong honeymoon, and you nod your head at Happy, who in turn, smiles and says, "Have fun! Wear protection!!"
Both of you laughing at him, and Nat starts puling you toward the door. You open the door and go to walk in, but Nat's hand pulling you backward makes you fall into her. "Nat what are you doing?"
She smiles and picks you up bridal style, and carries you carefully inside, closing the door softly before setting you down and she abruptly shoves you against the door, her lips immediately on yours. "You don't know how bad I need you right now dorogoy."
You smile into the kiss letting her have a moment of dominance before you take it back. "Come on dear, let's go upstairs and get these damn dresses off."
You both carefully undress with each other's help, soft touches here and there, before hanging up your dresses knowing you'll be too tired to do so later.
All Natasha can do is stare at your body, the white lingerie making the experience even better. You grab her face to make her give you her attention, and you give her a dominating stare and a contrasting soft toned voice, "Be a good girl and lie down on the bed please baby."
She quickly leaves your hold as you go to the closet and grab the things you set out for her. She usually takes charge, but sometimes you like to have your fun. This special occasion has you feeling dominant.
You saunter over to her with a set of ropes and a new toy she has never seen before. She furrows her eyebrows before you shush her, reminding her not to worry, your tone taking a temporary softness. "Alright dear, you know we have safe words. I know they were originally set up for me, but you know that you can use them too right?"
She softly nods her head at you with excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of what you could do to her.
You smile softly, running your fingers softly along her torso. "Can you remind me what they are, so I know you remember?"
She nods her head and recalls your safe word system. "Red is stop completely, yellow is slow down or need a break, and green is go."
You nod at her softly and say, "Good job dear, now can you tell me a color?"
She smiles softly and says, "Green. So, very green."
You chuckle softly tilting your head back and say, "Okay, I'm gonna tie you up now, is that alright?"
She nods her head with quick, "yes" to follow.
You sit just below her hard cock while tying her arms to the bed, knowing she is staring at how close you are. You lean forward a bit and bump it softly on accident, but ignore it otherwise.
Once you're done tying her arms up you move to her legs and start explaining what you're going to do. "I got a new toy just for you tonight, I know you've already seen it, aren't you excited?"
She nods but softly says, "What is it?"
You finish tying her leg and look up at her with a devious look in your eyes. "You're going to find out soon, but first..." You crawl up to her member sticking up so high, and you smirk with your lips so close to it, "I have to get you ready."
You lean down and softly lick her tip, knowing she likes that, and then you slowly take her whole length in your mouth. Gagging at how far back she reaches, which in turn, makes her twitch in your mouth. You bob your head on her for a bit longer before pulling away. A string of saliva and precum goes from your lips to her tip and she whines. You slap her thigh and harshly say, "Quit your bitching, I've barely started and you're all needy for me."
She goes to defend herself, "But you were teasing me all night.'"
You glare at her and say, "oh yeah? If you want me to stop teasing you, then i suggest you listen and stop whining."
She nods her head almost letting a whimper out, but she composes herself while you reach behind you to grab the new toy you mentioned. "Natty, I got you this, it's gonna make you feel so good."
You hold up a fleshlight and she widens her eyes knowing it will feel good. You start to rub her prepared cock onto the opening and say, "Are you okay with this darling? Do you want me to make you feel good?"
She nods her head but quickly corrects herself with a "yes ma'am" when she sees your eyes.
You slide the fake pussy over her shaft and she tightens her fists as she feels the tightness overwhelm her. Moans start pouring out of her when you start sliding it up and down with a slow pace that picks up quickly.
After only three minutes of silent torture, she feels the knot in her about to explode and she says, "Y/n please, can I cum?"
You look at her with an evil smile knowing this is exactly where you wanted her. "Oh baby, is this making you feel good? You need to cum so fast?"
She nods her head aggressively and you almost groan at how submissive she looks right now. "Oh, does this make you feel so good? Better than me?"
She widens her eyes knowing she is in a trap now. Your hand still moving the toy up and down her dick. "N-no! Y-you."
You cut her off mocking her, "y- y- you what? You want to cum so badly because the toy is making you feel better than your wife ever could?"
Her hips jerk when she hears you say 'wife' and she moans out a no, but you're relentless, slowing down the toy to make the pleasure unbearable, knowing this slow pace won't make her cum.
You lean close her her and say, "If you want to cum so bad then do it, but remember, if you cum now, you won't get to cum in my pretty little pussy for the rest of the week."
Tears prick in her eyes at the thought of going a whole week without being able to feel you around her and she says, "No! Please no! I need you!"
You smirk and say, "Then don't cum until I say you can slut."
You pick up the pace again making her moan and jerk her hips, you know she can only last so long without exploding, but you're testing her limits tonight. She suddenly gets another overwhelming urge to cum again so she is trying to do anything to get you to let her or stop. Words start flowing out of her mouth desperate for either a release or a break, "Please! I need to cum so bad! I'm begging you. Please mommy! I've been so good, I just want to cum!"
You frown and slow down a bit while tucking some of her sweaty hair behind her ear, knowing that Natasha only calls you mommy when she is feeling really submissive, so you check on her a bit, her whining at the pace decreasing, "I know darling, I just need you to honestly give me a color."
She quickly blurts out, "Green! Please mommy!"
You smile at her confirmation, and pick up the pace once again, "Oh baby, mommy is just making you feel so good right now, isn't she?"
Natasha nods her head but lets out a yelp when you slap her thigh, "Wring answer. It's this toy making you feel good. You love the thought of fucking this thing. You're just such a dumb little slut because you want to cum so bad into it. It's like you have your big cock in another girl's pussy. You want that? You want your dick in another girl and not your wife?"
She shakes her head again, words spewing out of her at a thousand words per minute "No mommy! please I need you! I need your pussy so bad! I'm so close!"
You glare at her and pump harder slightly squeezing the fleshy toy when you see some precum leak out the hole in the top so that she feels it tighter. "Then you're going to hold it like a good girl. I know you can make it a little longer baby."
She finally lets tears fall from her eyes at the pain of having to hold back to listen to you, but after a little bit you soften up and decide to swiftly pull the toy off of her, which in turn makes her raise her voice at you crying for stimulation, "No mommy! Please not again! I can't take it! I can't!"
You hush her getting into position slightly hovering over her red-hot dick. "Shh shh honey, I know I know, Mommy's right here baby, she just needs to adjust to you really quickly and then we'll keep going alright?"
You sigh as you take her whole length into your pussy, Nat whines and her hips jerk involuntarily, making you moan softly. You lean down to kiss her softly and then start bouncing up and down making a lewd noise come from Natashas throat. You chuckle and say, "You like that baby? Is it better than the toy? Come on don't be shy now, tell me baby."
She nods her head, trying to find the words in her mushy brain, "Yes mommy," she huffs out with an exasperated breath, "I love you so much detka, you're so much better than the toy, I only want to make you happy."
You pout at the fact that even though she's so terribly desperate for you, she still wants the best for you. You also notice the lack of the word 'mommy' and it instead being replaced with 'detka' indicating that she is slightly more in control and less submissive now.
You continue to bounce and thrust you hips into hers which makes moans rip out of the both of you. You can feel Nat twitching inside of you a clear indicator that she wants to come so quickly, her last orgasm having been torn from her grasp. You tilt her head down from it's thrown back position to have her look at you. The look of pure love and need in her eyes making you swoon. "Hey darling, you're doing so good for me, I'm gonna keep going, okay? You can cum inside me at any time."
She pouts at your tone, and says, "Can you please be rough with me? I liked it."
You smirk at her confession, you became tender when you thought she was done with it, but apparently, she still has some in her. So, you nod your head and whisper seductively, "Okay, if you want rough then you're gonna have to beg me to cum."
Excitement reinstalls in her features as you start to almost jump up and down on her cock, and she groans saying, "i can't hold it much longer, please let me cum!"
You moan when she hits a spot in you, honestly, you're quite impressed with how long she's made it. You're already close which means she made it at least double if not triple the time you thought she would. So you smirk down at her and shake your head. "Not good enough baby, you've got to do better than that
Your words being broken up since you've started moaning so much. She goes to beg again but you untie her quickly and keep talking, "Touch my clit baby, be a good girl and help me out please."
She immediately starts rubbing circles on your clit, ignoring her sore wrists, bringing you to the brink, which makes you clench down on Nat. This sensation makes her stutter, but she persists, determined to make you proud. "Please, I- you- ugh... You feel so good squeezing me; I feel like I'm gonna explode."
You nod your head to let her continue, "You're so fucking tight and warm, nothing could compare to you. Nothing, nobody could make me feel as good as my wife can."
This makes you clench extra hard and a guttural moan slips past your lips which sets Natasha off. She empties her seed into you, and this triggers your orgasm. All you hear is a weak, "I'm coming" fall past her lips and you feel her ejaculate into your pussy.
The feeling of euphoria surrounds the both of you as you both ride out your highs. Eventually you slip off of her, falling beside her trying to catch your breath.
Natasha, however, is so blissed out that you come back to earth and untie her before she can even see or think again. The first thing she says is, "Wow, just wow."
You giggle and cuddle up next to her saying, "You did so good for me baby, I'm so proud of you."
She smiles and turns on her side saying, "Thank you baby."
You smile as she leans in to kiss you. After sharing a soft kiss, she tries to deepen it, and moves to get on top of you, but you softly push her away saying, "You don't have to do another round baby, I pushed a lot of your limits today."
She sits up and glares at you saying, "It's our wedding night, not just mine. So, of course I'm going to take care of you baby. You must be crazy to think otherwise. I'm not just going to let you sleep without coming."
You giggle at her and she quirks a brow at you saying, "What's so funny huh?"
You smile and say, "I guess you were so out of it that you didn't even notice."
She frowns and says, "Notice what?"
You smile giving her a soft peck on the cheek, "Natty, I already did cum. In fact, I came so hard that I even squirted a bit onto you."
You point down at her abdomen which does, in fact, have your essence all over it. This realization making her blush, "Oh... I guess I was really out of it huh?"
You laugh at her timidness and say, "I don't know about you, but I can't walk..."
She smiles and gets up to go clean herself before coming back with a washcloth to clean you as well. Her tender hand making sure to not hurt you or make you uncomfortable from being so sensitive. Then she comes back to cuddle with you on her chest, and you whisper into her ear, "You did really impress me tonight, you know?"
She smiles and sighs, "Really? How so?"
You look into her eyes and say, "You lasted way longer than I expected you to, especially after the whole night of teasing."
She smirks and says, "Maybe I've leveled up since I have a wife now..."
This time it is your turn to blush, and say, "I guess that could be true."
She smiles as she settles into an almost sleep state, "Yeah, definitely true. My wife makes me a better person, in every way. I love you."
You smile and whisper an 'I love you too' back to her only to find that she is already asleep. Before you drift off to dream land you smile softly, thinking about her words.
"My wife."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Holy shit indeed. this thing took forever. I actually have no idea how long it is or how many words but I do know that I am done with this finally T-T... College is kicking my butt already, so I'm sorry if I post less. Please tell me what you thought of this! it makes my day to see people liked my work.
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Comment if you want to be added to the taglist!!! I hope you had a good time reading :3
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lullabyes22-blog · 3 months ago
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Real talk because you are THE resident Silco expert and all your headcanons are 100% correct: why does fandom think Silco would be good in bed? (Or good at sex at all?)
I've seen headcanons about him being a giver, and about his dick game being fire, and while he's a sexy, charismatic man, I feel like he's too... selfish, insecure, and just not a romantic guy. He's also a very bitter, lonely, and angry dude. Idk, it makes sense he would have some kinks but I feel like he'd be too much of a bitch to care for anyone else in bed. I guess he'd want it rough, and I've read some fics where he's a sadist, but I feel like it'd just be a quick fuck to satisfy himself, not a slow, passionate, sensual thing.
idk, do with this what you will.
I agree - with nuance 💗
Silco - at least as I write him in FNF - is principally a headfuck. If he's demonstrating an interest in you, then he wants something from you. If he's nice to you, there's a bottom line. No act of generosity comes without strings attached, and every small kindness comes at a terrible price. That aspect of cold-blooded calculus is never far away from his base nature, which splits the world into assets and liabilities, and his own actions into a transaction of cost versus reward.
With that in mind, he excels, not at sex, but at getting his partners to do what he wants them to do. For him, it's one of the many fluid ways of expressing power, and demonstrating his mastery over the subtleties of the human body and mind.
A few readers have noticed that he comes across as very detached and controlled during FnF's sex scenes - and that they read as weirdly voyeuristic. That always delights me, because it's an intentional choice. He doesn't really see his partner as anything beyond a medium to his goals, so his focus is entirely on their physical responses and his own actions. His narration is distant, observational and impersonal, because he doesn't experience sex as something that involves an emotional or empathetic connection. Rather, he's gauging how his target's responses play out on a physical plane, and he's calibrating his own actions to maximise their impact.
To give credit where credit is due, he's very intelligent, patient and observant. There is also some realistic backing to the running gag that Good D is invariably attached to Bad Men. More specifically, Bad Broke Men. Silco has not grown up in a position of privilege or wealth. He has been forced to make use of every available resource. He has survived by the skin of his teeth on a constant knife edge of deprivation, hunger and fear.
He's a scrapper. He's a survivor. He's an opportunist.
And to be any of those things, you need to know your way around people: their wants and weaknesses. That's the foundation for the idea that he's good in bed - that he can anticipate his partner's desires, and respond accordingly. The difference is, his actions have no romantic underpinning. It's a matter of pure pragmatism and self-interest.
In terms of technical skill, he's likely very good at finding his partner's pressure points, both literal and figurative, and exploiting them. But if it were up to him, he'd find a way to turn the thumbscrews with nothing more than a well-chosen word and a cold look. The sex is just a generality, and his enjoyment a function of their compliance.
When it comes to actual intimacy?
My friends, he'd be spectacularly bad.
Not just bad, but skittish, hostile and hopelessly inept. He'd feel like an accomplished stage actor who has to step out onto the boards for an improv class. He hasn't got the right lines, he isn't dressed for the part, and he isn't even sure what role he's supposed to be playing. He'd be so awkward, he'd actually have trouble looking his partner in the eyes. The sum total of his sexual ouvre would devolve into the following comedy of errors:
"What the fuck is this?"
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Don't touch me there."
"This is going well, right?"
"Why can't I get it up?"
"I can't do this."
"Leave me alone."
"Where are you going?"
"Don't leave me."
"They always leave me."
"Why does everyone leave me?"
And he'd only spiral deeper into self-loathing and isolation. To submit to intimacy is to open oneself up to the mortifying ordeal of being known, and the constant risk of rejection. To Silco, it is anathema. Actual emotional vulnerability during sex would be not unlike attending his own public execution.
But.
Silco is not a one-note villain, much less a one-trick pony. He has a human history riven in deprivation, bloodshed and betrayal. He's remade himself from a 'weak' man into the premier kingpin of Zaun, but that predatory bracing still hides remnants of the soft-natured idealist he once was. In fact, he's the product of a deeply embedded internal conflict between two distinct versions of himself. The one who seeks to burn his enemies, and the one who seeks to save his city. He's also, as demonstrated by his love for Jinx, capable of profound devotion, loyalty, and a deep-seated longing for companionship.
That means the potential for romance exists. It's just buried deep, deep, deep down beneath years of abuse, neglect, trauma, and self-imposed barriers. If he meets someone who can dismantle those barriers, or bypass them altogether and earn his trust, there is a ray of hope.
Sex would still be frightening and uncomfortable, and it'd involve a lot of trial and error. But it'd also have the potential to be deeply healing. Not because Silco would become a better man, but because his partner would make him want to try. He'd also bring the same intense focus, intelligence, and determination to the task that he applies to his criminal empire - which means that, once he does have his sea legs, Silco would have the potential to become a truly giving lover.
It's all about context.
And the context is always: will he take the gamble when he has nothing to lose, and everything to gain?
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kyri45 · 4 months ago
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✹ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 12/09✹
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Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
@snsp6 I really hope that this won’t change MK’s view on his bio dads :( Anonimo Hello! Wanted to ask or more so I am wondering, will MK start seeing Wukong differently after finding out he literally killed Mac and even after seeing their past and how close they were, dam the trauma, anyhoo I love your art and the Shadowpeach bio parent au! Keep up the great work! >:D
Oh it will. (In a good way? a Bad? that's for me to know and for you to wait a week to know)
@hopefulbelievertimemachine Imagine if MK found someone who recently found out that they were a demon and he comforts them cuz he had a similar experience.
Oh that would be sooo wholesome!!! It's one of my fav trope when there's another character who go throught the same exact thing as another character and the two of them bond over this.
@zammy357 Hello, hope your day/night is going well. I wanted to ask since me and a friend like your bio parents blog and wanted to know if we can use it for an arc? Our blog is called @amnesia-wukong-au. We wanted to ask before we started doing it.
Hi!! Yeah sure as long you tag me and the masterpost of the shadowpeach au
Anonimo Wait what is a glamour (in context of Sun Wukong and Macaque)
A glamour is a magic spell that changes/cover your appearance. Like in the show macaque should technically have 6 ears. for animation purposi I guess they are not drawing all of them, but we say he uses a glamour also for covering his scarred eye.
@clueless-simp ha chiesto: What if PIF, BDK, Sun Wukong, and Macaque (and most definitely Mei) did a "parent trap" tactic to get MK and Red Son together? Setting things up, getting them alone together, pretending they are all busy, and the only option is for them to spend time together under the sunset XD XD XD
Oh no that would end bad. like-comically bad.
@honeylavender27 ha chiesto: Imagine red realizing mk doesn't know about court napping and just invites him over one day. Red son: so I'm sure your wondering why I invited you here.. Mk: yeah it's kinda weird you didn't want Mei to come. Is everything ok? Red: perfect actually, I'll explain everything just enter here first please. Mk: oh ok -walks into the prepared courtnapping room and gets locked in-.....uh red? Redson: consider yourself courtnapped...
Ahah poor MK. I think they would make a disastrous courtnapping that would be the equivalent of the phrase "task failed succesfully"
@artgurusauce ha chiesto: ARGGGHHHH, they're SO CUTE! I love your bioparent AU so much! Altho I am wondering: When MK turns back to normal would he retain some subconscious paternal attachment to our ol boys here? Maybe he even calls Macaque "Mom" without realizing it...
@blazerratbluefire-blog ha chiesto: Plot twist of the century for the oblivious monkey men. MK remembers ~everything~ when he was a cub! I'm not sure if that is what is planned, but! It would be really funny! Especially if he just calls Macaque 'Mama' all casual and just walks away. While Macaque EXP. has crashed and is rebooting. Gosh, that would be so cute! I absolutely love your artwork, by the way! It is so adorable!
Can't answer yet. He does NOT have memories, but he will remember ONE thing...
@daniellemarvel4 Hi, fist off I love your work and can't wait to see what you do next! I was wondering who is more protective of MK when it comes to Red Son? Whether that would be Pigsy, Wukong, Macaque, or even Tang (mabye Mei but I don't think she could stay serious long enough). Also, can we see what Sandy's doing?
mmmmmm---- I think Wukong. Freenoodle is pretty chill with the DBK family after everything that happened. Mac is also quite alright since he was always in good relationship with them. I would say Wukong would just want to be sure his kid doesn't get hurt by the fire in any way
Anonimo I've been squealing, grinning, and kicking my feet going through the Shadowpeach Bio parents AU. Baby MK has been SO CUTE and fun. I wonder if he's going to remember or be embarrassed about it. Another part of me hopes that river is still in play so Sun & Mac can fall in and suddenly MK and everyone has 2 chaotic super-powered Baby Monkeys to take care off 😭 😭 😭
Anonimo ha chiesto: I almost cried they are sooo cute. I hope that we get more sweet family content. Loving the comic thanks for making it 💕💕💕💕
Anonimo ha chiesto: I don’t want the cure to work ! Or could it be like that: MK is such a powerful being that the Dosis Pif gave them, just wasn’t strong enough. Instead it only aged MK up a bit so now he is a small kid or a teenager but not a grown ass money man again. I am not ready to leave the monkey family stuff behind đŸ„ș
unfortunately the river has been close untile further notice. (dw this wont be the end)
@cutvdo ha chiesto: Mei bribing Red Son with baby MK pictures
@luciferapollyon ha chiesto: I hope Mei, Red Son, Macaque and Wukong all got pics before they turned MK back
Anonimo ha chiesto: DHJSJDJDH LIL BABY BEAN! I wonder if Wukong and Macaque took any pics of lil MK while he was smol baby? She would keep them and use them as blackmail. (affectionately)
Anonimo ha chiesto: Your shadowpeach bio parent au is just perfect!! Thankyou for feeding the fandom with the nectar of the gods!!! Especially the one where mac slips into the bed after wukong waits all night. Like Mac would wake up in the morning and see him fast asleep and think of Peng asking 'is there anything Wukong could do that would break his hold over you?' and just seeing him at his most vulnerable right now he's like 'no, not when he always gives me a reason to stay.'
MY HEART
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@queen-of-purple-roses Wait if MK is experiencing Macaque’s memories then does that mean that Macaque can experience MK’s? Are they able to dive into each other’s minds?
So the thing is that MK is hearing the past from both POVs. Macaque by definition can hear ANYTHING so yeah he could definitely experience MKs memories. But the thing is-does he want to? I headcanon that his future-present-past hearing abilities are something he only used a couple of times, and because what he heard from them was so traumatic, he decided to NOT use them again (like wukong laser eyes)
@sillygothpartykid ha chiesto: I know everyone is asking you to make the gay monkeys kiss but I actually like how you are developing their relationship. You letting them work through their problems and feeling first giving us that sweet, sweet slow burn! Love your art btw!❀❀❀
awwww ty!!!! yes pls slow burn for life.
@kraytherandomchick ha chiesto: Hey, love your ShadowPeach AU! (Started rereading it after crying from the season 5 finale hehe :'D) But there's always something that's kinda stuck in my head, if MK's no longer immortal, would Macaque or Wukong get sad at the thought of getting older and forced keep going without him?
So- *sigh* technically, we don't really know MK immortality status. it's a grey area for now. Because on one side, he's a stone monkey, who, by nature like Wukong, can perfectly age and grow like a normal monkey. On the other hand, he's technically died already, and by the time he was created by Nuwa, both his biological fathers were already immortal (Wukong bc yes, Macaque because he's a demon, and he can die from wounds and illness, but can't age)
So to answer: we don't know yet what's with him. we will see (I promise that)
@lmk4ever ha chiesto: I LOVE THE SHADOW PEACH BIO PARENT AU SO MUCH!! Mk boi is so lucky to have a artist like you and fathers like them. I want to ask, will shadowpeach ever get into a fight out of anger in front of Mk? Or did they moved on from that phase?
If they will fight it will be more of like- the 2 dads grounding MK. If they need to fight they learned that they need to go on another mountain to do it so they don't bother their child
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we get a traffic light trio ship?
Probably not, but I'm all for dragonfruit/spicynoodle and having MK and Mei NOT dating each other at the same time.
@yuk1yun ha chiesto: If lmk season 6 isn't like your au, then I don't want to watch it
BRUH THAT'S THE NICEST THING I HEARD ALL WEEK
@conniescialla ha chiesto: HIIII!! ok scusa l'italiano ma letteralmente trovare artisti italiani ispira sempre quel momento patriottico alla YES ONE OF US MUAHHAHAH Scherzi a parte, il comic Shadowpeach bio parents Au Ú meraviglioso, si approva soprattutto l'hurt/comfort ;p
Tanti kudos!!<3
AAAAHHH CHE BELLO UN ALTR* ITALIAN*!!!!!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I really wanna see jelous wukong!!!!!! I dunno maybe some random demon trying to flirt with emo monkie or something and wukong is like oh hell no!! He is mine!! I think it would be so cute
he would become incredibly possessive and start hissing and growling like a tiger. NOBODY TOUCHES MY SOFT PILLOW
Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so cute if Wukong would take care of sick Macaque! It would show Macaque that Wukong changed and is no longer like he was before. I wonder if Macaque got sick, would MK help or would Macaque be too stubborn to let anyone know.
I know everyone says Wukong is this great sage with incredible abilities in every field (and he is) but I would like to imagine that, since he needs to do these thing for Macaque specifically, he's so stressed over the fact he needs to do them perfectly that he fucks up lmao.
Like, he would try his best to take care of him and almost burn the kitchen in the meantime, while Macaque was only hoping the two of them could just stay more in bed cuddling each other
Anonimo ha chiesto: im just imagining Mac getting anxious becouse he cannot find baby MK and Wukong is there to calm him down
@shadowpeachera ha chiesto: Heyy I absolutely love your shadowpeach bio au, the drawings, the text its perfect! Did Mk every run off or get into trouble now that he’s a cub or even play games with Wukong and Macaque like hide and seek? That would be really cute. I can imagine them playing hide and seek while Mk discovers he can make shadow portals, meanwhile his parents are stressing and scared as they have no idea where he is.
i think both of them would freak out.
WAIT I HAVE THE PIC I HAVE THE PIC
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I'VE BEEN SAVING THIS PIC SINCE 2017
@nyx-daughterofchaos98 ha chiesto: Hi! For LMK, I watched a nature documentary on Monkeys the other day and a lot of monkeys correct each others behavior by doing something called “Disciplinary Nips” or “Discipline Bites” (This isn’t a sexual ask I promise) I think it would be absolutely hilarious, if Macaque and Wukong are napping together, and for whatever reason, Wukong keeps moving around, unable to get comfortable. And in his sleep-riddled state, Macaque gets annoyed and bites him. đŸ€Ł Like; I’M TRYING TO SLEEP! KNOCK IT OFF! đŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł And when Wukong does stop moving, Macaque does actually fall asleep. Even better is if Macaque wakes up and has absolutely No Idea he bit Wukong because he was half asleep at the time. Or he thinks it was a dream and ensue the shenanigans when he realizes it wasn’t.
OMG THAT'S SO CUTE AND SILLY AAHHHH!!! EVEN BETTER: what if they do this without noticing BEFORE they are like-actually romantically back together, and someone sees the mark bites AND THEY START TO ASSUME CERTAIN THINGS BRUH.
@tabs-tabi-tabby  Can Macaque help with MK’s clones? Or would that be Wukong’s area?
MK can't make the same clones macaque has. He can control a little bit his own shadow, and use that as a clone. so as long as it's his own shadow, it's more Mac area, if it's his own hair clone then it's Wukong's
@startdustmonkie ha chiesto: Does Mk and or Wukong know about Savage and Rumble? (If so how did they find out about them?) — (also: do Savage and Rumble see Mama macaque as a parent?)
@mushrum-soup ha chiesto: Hi just wanted to say I absolutely adore your shadow peach au it's literally the highlight of my week 💖I was wondering tho are rumble and savage just shadow clones in your au or similar to their Lego counterparts :O?
Yes they know about them. No they aren't his kids let's say. My own personal headcanon for the Au (or the show in general) is that they are both Macaque shadow, like- clones with a little bit of personality just like MK clones represent specific parts of his personality. He has 2 of them because he lived 2 lives, one before and one after he was brought back to life.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Just read the latest Shadowpeach bio kid comic, and i cant help but giggle a bit at how MK’s chirp woke Wukong and Macaque up lmao just the “and they snoozing- OH SHIT BABY CHIRPING WHATS WRONG-“
HE IS BABYYYY
@hellobur ha chiesto: Did you base when mk was reaching fr macaque after he was walking away because mk called him mama after this or was it a funny coincidence (mk also doe the pose but I can't find it lol)
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Also I absolutely love this story and your art your work is incredible! ^^
Omg LMAO NO I DIDN’T BUT NOW IT’S 100% MORE FUNNY
@dragonaboni-blog ha chiesto: Hi! First off, I love your art and your Shadowpeach AU, it's the reason I'm reactivating my own Tumblr account lol One of my favorite tropes in this story is "A gets sick and B takes care of him" so I'm wondering
 What would that trope be like in the AU? What would the monkey trio be like when they got sick? Do any of them sleep through their illness? Or are any of them extremely dramatic like "These will be my last words
"? CoughcoughWUKONGCoughcough
Aaahh I’ve seen a lot of asks asking this one but honestly I don t know If I’ll ever draw that trope. Maybe bc Wukong should technically have canonically too much knowledge about general illness to be worried about normal daily life illness. If it was something more life-threating. Maybe yes, but I still have to cook.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Counterpoint: wukong can't handle spicy foods because he has no impulse control and his monkee brain wants him to only eat fruit and peaches
Ouch. Yes that seems about accurate for him lmao
Anonimo ha chiesto: About the lmk bio au.... we have seen that MK can manipulate certain parts of his body in the 72 transformations... so..... Wukong and Macaque could technically have children.
I’ll be 100% honest I have no idea if stone monkeys are
fertile?
Anonimo Hey there! I am in love with your art. LMK is something that came into my life recently and damn I love it so much! Love your AU, and I can't wait to see more of it. Funnily, since the baby MK incident I imagine this later on becoming a somewhat spark of many funny arguments later on. What I mean is I see baby MK has a favorite parent (*cough-cough* MacCRACK *cough-cough*) [Sorry with the name joke, couldn't help myself]. XD. And I imagine Wukong be a bit jealous at times and go 'Anything you can do I can do better XD' Also see lovely Redson have a thing for MK, and then I imagine him ask his parents about advice on pursuing his crush. "So who is the lucky girl?" "Well, you already know him-" *Spits out water* "You got yourself a husband?" "What, no I haven't yet-!"
Aww I don't think MK would have a favourite but definitely there are times where he wants one parent more than the other (play time with Wukong, nap time with Mamacaque)
Anonimo ha chiesto: Yknow what they say
 like father like son! In the sense that they’re all gay /j
Oh yeah absolutely it's genetic/j
@wolfasketch ha chiesto: Mac being on the sunny side and Wuwu being in the shadows
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I know I'm looking into it too much but- AHHH!!!
That was unintentional but HOLY SIT U R RIGHT
Anonimo ha chiesto: Poor Red Boy never got to see baby MK! Imagine him just staring at the adorableness that is baby MK and being like 'I hope our future children look just like you OH MY GODS YOU'RE ADORABLE'. Baby MK: :3
Their child will literally be Kai from Ninjago so I guess THEY ARE RIGHT HE WILL BE
Anonimo ha chiesto: And then MK will wake up back to normal, confused, but proud that he managed to get them even closer?
100% yes
@drowning-in-webnovel-chapters ha chiesto: I can't imagine how the monkey dads are gonna try to go back to sleep after that, oof. Also Wukong definitely knows all that from when he used to help Macaque through visions, right?
Yup! He does indeed!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I’m guessing MK is getting a mini version of Macaque’s “can hear the past/present/future” thingy, did he managed to hear it accidentally or was he trying to learn more about his powers/Shadowpeach’s past ?
Yes, he was just wondering since last time that he found the sleeping cuddling with him, what exactly happened for them to rift away. Guess curiosity killed the cat
@aurabooboo ha chiesto: So. I'm rewatching season 5, right? I noticed that they almost had a yelling match with MK right in the middle. Would Wukong apologize to him for that?
These 3 have so much to talk about
 i wont draw everything, but they definitely apologised offscreen.
@elianaroselight ha chiesto: It is quite telling how Wukong immediately knew what to do to help calm MK, but also, Macaque coming in with the perspective of having gone through it himself. The need for them to remain close by and wait until Mk is asleep before trying to leave. This means Mac has been through exactly what he is telling them not to do and knows the pain, sorrow and trauma that comes from feeling abandoned like this. They may be facing their past hurting their own kid through proxy and try to help him fight against the trauma. Luckily they have good people to help when they themselves can't. *looks at Freenoodles*
Yup! Their response is exactly related to what they do to calm the other!
@thenerdycupcake ha chiesto: So, does MK’s gold vision combine with his hearing sometimes so that he sees some of what he’s hearing from the past?
Oooohhh i guess he does! So he can literally see and hear the past!
@frogsfandoms ha chiesto: Omg why can I see after MK wakes up he thinks that it isn’t the past he’s hearing and that it actually just happened. Rushing to see if Wukong and Macaque are hurt and or trying to stop them from fighting 😭😭😭
Oohhh our baby still doesn’t want to believe it actually happened :(
Anonimo ha chiesto: Adult MK: OH MY GOD A SPIDER *desperate scared monkey noises* Baby MK: what's this? A 5 starts meal? *Tries to chomp said spider* He's gonna be sooo disgusted when someone tells him he tried to eat one fkdkdlfmfl
Oh poor MK. He’ll be teased about this for the rest of his days.
@sailera ha chiesto: Hello I have question about you Shadowpeach bio dads au- How would Pigsy react that his only employee turned to a baby? And hadn’t answered his phone in few days? Also love your art!! And your ISAT comic got me again interested in playing Sky ✹
Mk only became a baby for like- 20 hours. Mei told him that he stayed at FFM because he was ‘tired after training’. As of now Pigsy didn!t found out
---------------
That's all for this week! Thank you a lot for all the asks!
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crustaceousfaggot · 4 days ago
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Relationships in The Terror (2018) I think would have been fun to see explored onscreen if they'd had more than 10 episodes:
Gibson & Jopson (You and the coworker at your customer service job who is objectively annoying but also the only other gay person on staff, so I guess you're friends now)
Bridgens & Goodsir (I know you're not a proper doctor but I see that you are trying and you are full of so so so much love and care and we are the same in that way)
Peglar & Hickey (Hickey sees this friendly doe-eyed gayboy and assumes he'll be an easy mark, Peglar gently informs him that his husband is over on Erebus and he's not interested in mutiny, thank you very much)
Bridgens & Fitzjames (Fun fact: a steward can also be a father figure if your abandonment issues are bad enough!)
Jopson & Little (Joplittle girlies I am trying to understand your culture but this is one of the most Men Standing Beside Each Other ships I have ever seen)
Hickey & Darlington (I just want one scene where it's established that Hickey is kinda shit at his job and his boss hates him)
Fitzjames & Le Vesconte (I know they technically interact but c'mon I need more Dundy in my life)
Gibson & Hodgson (Okay this one I'm actually insane about. Hodgson who likes to think of himself as chill and friendly with the lower ranks vs Billy who wants this guy to shut up so he can do his job. Someone on Discord compared it to when customer service jobs make you wear a name tag - customers try to be friendly and address you by name, but it just feels jarring and a bit violating because of the inherent power differential. And then when their dynamic is swapped, when Billy is the Lieutenant to Hickey's Captain and Hodgson is a decorative piece of meat? Bro. And, like, Hodson ate the flesh of this man who had made his bed and shaved his face for the past 3 years. Did that affect him differently than if it had been a random AB? I'm losing my mind over here.)
Armitage & Tozer (he wants that Marine cock sooooooo bad god bless)
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minimomoe · 4 months ago
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How to Train your Demon
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Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader
Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.
Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (but it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....
Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. (completed)
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Rule no. 9: Make Sure Instructions are Explicitly Clear
When you came back to the kitchen, Uraume was still there. In fact, upon further inspection of your kitchen, the place looked cleaner than before. Cleaner than the first time you moved in. You were grateful but felt strange. You didn’t ask them to tidy up but Uraume did it without your request. You came back before leaving to set the record straight because you didn’t need nor want a housekeeper. 
You eyed the empty plate that laid in front of Sukuna with disdain. It was practically clean, the greasy streaks from the meaty meal painted the white porcelain.
“Uraume, you don’t need to do all of this,” you gestured around to the house. “You’re a guest here. Please, take it easy.” “You’ll confuse them,” Sukuna said gruffly. “But as of today, Uraume will not be confined in the house.” 
You cocked your eyebrow at Sukuna who stood up from his chair. You already sensed that whatever today’s agenda held would get under your already itchy skin. 
“You will take Uraume with you to work.”
Ah there it is. The start of a headache right behind your eyes because of his overbearing protection. “There wasn’t a question mark in that statement.” 
“I was not asking,” Sukuna crossed his arms over his chest with a heavy finality. “Uraume will go with you.” 
“I don’t need a babysitter,” you gritted out. “If anything, it would be better for you for Uraume to stay with you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to get to.”
On your way out of the door, you found Uraume holding your work bag along with your tumbler cup filled with your favorite drink. You awkwardly took it out of their hands while muttering thanks. “And you do not have to come to work with me. Take a break,” you added before you left the house to your coworker waiting for you in her car. 
“Finally. I thought I was gonna have to drag you out of there myself,” Jess joked when you buckled yourself up in the passenger seat. 
“Sorry about that,” you laughed weakly. You eyed your house, your face barely able to hide your forehead scrunching up in a wince. 
“Is something wrong? Is Cleo still sick?” 
“What? No, she’s fine
 just fine
”
Jess nodded but did not believe you. “Okay. Let’s try this again but this time don’t be as cryptic. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
You were unsure of how much of your situation you should reveal to your coworker. You were close enough to call her a friend, she’s the one who even offered to take you to work for as long as you needed until your foot healed, but you didn’t know just how deep that friendship was. You decided to test the waters with a very generic situation. 
“I’m just having
 relationship issues.”
“Shut up, since when?!” Her eyes lit up even as she kept them on the road. “You know after Toji I didn’t think that you would be interested in men anymore. Are you still dating guys? Or are we talking about a lucky woman this time around?”
“Worse,” you snorted under your breath. 
“Huh? I can’t really hear you.” 
“I said it’s still a man. I just– I think I’m in over my head here. He wants to get
 married.”
“Oh,” she said quietly. “He proposed to you?”
“God no,” you quickly corrected. That was technically true. No proposal but apparently soulmates. “He keeps on bringing marriage up. He’s very serious about it.” 
Jess tilted her head side to side, carefully preparing her next set of words. “Getting married is a serious matter. I mean, it’s not permanent. It’s messy, but you could always get a divorce if he switches up on you.” Jess gave you a quick glance from the corner of her eye. “But you never mentioned wanting to be a wife before. Don’t let him rush you.”
“I’m not,” you promised. “I never thought about it, but
”
“But what?” Jess prompted. The car was stopped at a redlight so she could fully look at you. You sat with your hands in your laps, palm up, tracing the lifelines over and over again. 
“I don’t know. I don’t hate it? He gets on my nerves like no other. He’s old fashioned, bossy as hell, kinda sticks out like a sore thumb,” you listed off with knitted eyebrows.
“So what do you like about him?” Jess snorted. Your face uncharastically softened. Jess wondered if you knew how much affection for this mystery man you held in your body.
“He’s not ugly, for one. I happen to like his face a lot,” you admitted. “There’s also a sense of understanding that comes with him. And, we have
 history with each other. Don’t worry, I’m not getting caught up in the nostalgia, but it does make things complicated.” 
You hadn’t realized it but you and Jess made it to the library already. She parked the car and shut off the engine, plunging the car in silence. You both stared out the windshield, watching your other coworkers mill into the building. 
“How long have you known him?”
You shook your head. “If I told you that you’d think that I’m crazy. I’m talking straight jacket and padded walls crazy.”
“Alright then. Keep your secrets. I’m not telling you this because I want to be a bridesmaid for your wedding, but I do hope you guys work it out. Fully commit yourself like you are a married couple and see how it feels. I mean, you’re only dating right now, so you can always back out.” 
If only it was that easy, you thought to yourself. Still, you appreciated her help. “You’re right. Thanks, Jess. I really needed to get that off of my chest.” 
Jess beamed at you and you couldn’t help but to smile back. “I can’t wait to meet him once you feel comfortable. And if he does break your heart, I will break his legs.” 
The thought of Jess, who was smaller than you, taking a crowbar to Sukuna’s knees tickled you deeply. The image made you laugh loudly and Jess was happy to see you back in high spirits. You both climbed out of the car hand in hand, giggling all the way to your work stations. You separated, leaving you to hobble over to the front desk for your shift and you prepared the desk. Suguru would not come in until a few more hours, but you watched the door like a hawk for the return of the book Sukuna came from or Suguru. You were only interrupted from your task when a small voice coming from the other side of your desk called out your name. You peered over to find one of your favorite patrons with multiple books teetering in his hands already. 
“Yuuji,” you crooned. “You’re here early.”
“Good morning! We’re going on a road trip so Dad said we have to run ear-rands! I chose the liberry first!” 
The pink haired boy grinned up at you with a smile full of missing teeth that warmed your heart. 
“A road trip right before school starts. Lucky you,” you nodded. You reached over to take the load out of his arms and began to scan them. “Do you think you have enough books to keep you busy?”
Yuuji nodded furiously. “I really like this series.” 
You inspected the book you checked out and saw that it was a fantasy book about dragons that was the latest craze with kids. It had amazing illustrations along with a simple but captivating plot. You gave Yuuji a thumbs up. “This is a good choice. You gotta tell me how it ends when you come back.” 
Once again you were given a bright flash of teeth from the young boy. For a second you had a bout of deja-vu. You’ve known Yuuji since he was in diapers, but you had a strange feeling that you have seen his face somewhere else before. The thought was gone as quickly as it came by when Kento Nanami came up with his own set of books to check out. 
“Good morning,” he greeted in his velvety voice that slid in the air like jazz. He gently placed his stack on the desk and lifted Yuuji from the floor to rest on his hip. 
“It’s always a good one when you stop by,” you winked. You spied Jess shelving books from across the floor but her gaze was firmly stuck on the blond man. You bit back a giggle from the way she was missing the shelf multiple times from staring too hard. 
“You know, since Yuuji likes fantasy so much, I would recommend a knight story over there where Jess is standing. It would be right up his alley,” you offered. Nanami craned his neck to your point and Jess ducked below the shelves to hide in record time. “Well, she was standing over there,” you scoffed. “Yuuji said you’re taking a trip?”
“Yes, it’s last minute,” Nanami mused. He looked almost disappointed that he didn’t see your friend in the section you directed him to before he turned to face you with a soft smile. “I’ve been so busy. I want him to have at least one fun memory besides the activities held here.” 
“I hope you two enjoy yourselves,” you said earnestly. Just as you were printing out the receipt for the books you saw a familiar swish of white hair disappear behind the nonfiction section. You have only seen it once but you were sure of who it belonged to. 
“Thank you. We will,” Nanami promised. You helped him pack the books in his tote bag without putting Yuuji down and fixed it on his other shoulder. “We’ll see you soon.” 
“Of course,” you waved, but your attention was already drawn elsewhere. You had enough patience to make sure there was nobody else in line that you needed to help before stomping wobbly over to where you saw Uraume. They were not-so-subtly stuffing their face in a book larger than their head to hide their identity. 
“Uraume,” you said in a low warning tone. They slowly dropped the book and looked at you head on. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? I thought I told you to stay at home.” 
Uraume skillfully only responded to your last statement. 
“Lord Sukuna insisted that I come and watch over you. He’s worried over your condition.” 
“He should be worried about his condition when I get my hands on–”
“Did Kento say anything about me?” Jess said behind you, scaring you out of your body. You put your hand over your chest to calm your frantic heart and Jess apologized. 
“Oh I didn’t know you were talking to somebody. I love your hair,” Jess complimented Uraume and they blushed. 
“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool or whatever,” you grumbled, pulling her away from Uaraume before she got a better look. You would have to deal with him later. As you were walking Jess back to the front desk she repeated her question. 
“He would’ve, if you didn’t do that little disappearing act.” 
“I just didn’t expect to see him,” she groaned. “Nobody should look that fine so early in the morning.” 
You found Uraume moving from section to section, seemingly not concerned with your whereabouts but you knew better. You were very annoyed, practically seething internally from Sukuna’s blatantly sending Uraume even though you had said not to. There was no getting through to him. 
“Aw man,” Jess sighed, looking down at her phone. You looked at her expectantly and she turned her phone to you. “Suguru’s not coming in today. One of his daughters is sick.” 
Fucking fantastic. “Poor girl,” you said instead. 
“Yeah, he said she got a nasty fever. I hope it’s nothing serious.” 
You already zoned out from the conversation, trying to come up with ways to work around his absence in relation to your demon issue. You slumped down into the nearest empty chair and spun around despondently. 
Jess poked your shoulder. “Lighten up. You don’t have to take on his shift, somebody else already took care of that.” 
“That’s great,” you mumbled without any real conviction. 
All you could do is hope that the universe was still on your side and you could get the journal back with or without Suguru being around. 
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Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx
Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.
M.list || Twitter || Ao3
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athenamikaelson · 7 months ago
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Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 3
Word Count- 2.7
Warnings- swearing, canon violence, spoilers obvi, puking
“I really think this is a bad idea,” I tell Elena and Rose from the backseat of Elena’s SUV. Earlier this morning Elena called me and asked if I would go with her to one of Rose’s friends to learn more about Klaus. I had originally going to tell her no, but then remembered Theo had been trying to get me to take him to some football game upstate and I needed a reason to say no. I may hate the supernatural, but not as much as I hate packed arenas filled with drunk older men. 
“Everything will be fine, Y/N. We’re just going to ask Slater some questions and we’ll be on our way back to Mystic Falls before dinner,” Elena sends me a reassuring smile from the front seat, “Besides, Slater can be trusted. Right, Rose?” She questions the pixie-haired vampire who sits silently in the driver’s seat. 
Rose nods along to Elena’s question, “I’ve known Slater for a long time he’s the only person I have fully trusted other than
” Her face falls into a solemn look and I presume she’s thinking about Trevor, her now headless friend. Elena sends her a sad look while I try to find interest in my hands. Dealing with other people’s emotions has never been my strong suit. 
“The bottom line is, we can trust him. If anyone is going to know anything about Klaus and ritual it’ll be him.” 
I sigh and lean back into my seat, staring out the window. I watch as we drive by countless people going throughout their days. Normal-average-looking people doing mundane things, walking strollers, going to work, and school. Now that I know about the supernatural though questions swarm my mind if the people I’m watching are actual people. I mean I’m going to guess that baby in the stroller wasn’t a vampire
well. 
“Do vampire babies exist,” I ask aloud. Elena turns to look over her shoulder at me and Rose just lets out a deep sigh as she flips the blinker on.
“Vampires can’t reproduce, so no,” She responds solemnly to which I shake my head, “No I mean like can babies be vampires?”
This question gains Rose’s attention as she turns over her shoulder and looks at me with an “Are you serious” look. Elena just looks from me to Rose, then back to me before shaking her head.
“No,” She pauses in thought, “At least I don’t think they can be. I mean technically maybe they could be but I don’t think an infant would be able to hunt for blood.”
Elena and I nod together as we come to the final conclusion that babies can in fact be vampires. 
“Baby vampires don’t exist,” Rose states annoyed.
“Why not,” Elena turns to Rose who looks like she’s close to turning this car around or driving it off a cliff. 
Rose is quiet for a moment as if she is actually going to give the question an answer before she shakes her head and sighs.
“They just can’t,” She turns the wheel into a parking spot in front of an industrial building, “We’re here.”
—
“Well, looks like he’s not home. Better come another day,” I’ll tell them as Rose’s knocks are met with no response. I twirl around on my heel and climb down a step but halt when Elena’s hand grabs the sleeve of my jacket. 
“Mmn, no. We didn’t come all the way out here for nothing,” She says as she motions at the door to Rose. Rose just rolls her eyes as she breaks open the latch on the door. Impressive. Rose motions for us to walk in and I begrudgingly follow behind Elena. 
Slater’s apartment is large with brick walls. My gaze catches odd-looking artifacts that line the bricked walls, along with artwork that appears to be mid-century. 
“I don’t think he’s going to be much help,” Rose’s voice comes from the living room. Elena is already walking towards her when she lets out a gasp making my spine lock up. I slowly peek my head past the door and choke down bile as I see the veiny corpse of who I’m assuming was Slater. 
“Shit.”
—-
I’m sitting on the couch of the dead guys' apartment as Rose and Elena look through Slater’s stuff. I wrap my sweater around my tighter as I watch them get stumped by the password-locked computers. I listen to Rose tell Elena we should just leave since we don’t have the password when a rustling comes from the room behind us. 
“Is the dead guy alive,” I whisper as I kneel on the couch and barely raise my eyes over the top of it to try to look at the door? Rose walks to the door and clutches my sweater tighter to me as she opens it up and stares out. 
“Alice,” Rose’s voice questioned.
“I thought the dead guy's name was Slater,” I whisper-yell to Elena as she just shakes her head. We both whip our heads to Rose as a dark-haired girl runs into her arms crying. So not Slater. I slightly cringe at her high-pitched cries and lower myself back onto the couch as Rose tries to soothe her. 
—
Ten minutes later Rose, Elena, and I are in Slater’s kitchen making Slater’s “widow” tea. I had felt a moment of sympathy for the black-haired woman about losing her boyfriend until Rose enlightened Elena and me on her real reason for being with Slater. She had wanted to become a vampire aswell. 
Rose and I watch from the kitchen as Elena tries to get the passcode out of Alice. It doesn’t seem to be going well until Elena promises Alice that she’ll get Rose to turn her if she helps us. Unsurprisingly that changes Alice’s dark mood and she skips over to the table of monitors. She puts in his password as Elena and Rose watch from over her shoulder. I haven’t changed from my seat in the kitchen though, just silently sipping the spare apple juice box I found in the fridge. 
My ears perk up as Alice tells us his password was Kristen Stewart and how predictable Slater was. I pull myself off my bar stool and walk into the living room sipping my juice.
“What about that one? “Cody Webber, THey exchanged dozens of e-mails about Elijah,” Rose asks Alice pointing out some emails.
“I could call him,” Alice tells her. 
Elena hands her her phone, “Tell him that we’re trying to send a message to Klaus. The doppelganger’s alive, and she is ready to surrender.”
Elena’s admission shocks me so much I drop my juice box onto the floor, “What the hell?” 
Elena doesn’t look at either Rose or me as she tells Alice to get the message to him and she walks out of the room. Rose and I just stare at each other for a moment in shock before we rush after Elena. 
“What are you doing,” Rose presses Elena.
“I’m getting Klaus’s attention.” Is all Elena says as if it’s not signing her own death certificate. Last night after I’d gotten home from picking Theo up Elena called me and filled me in on everything about this ritualistic sacrifice with this old guy Klaus. That’s the reason we had been taken. So why she wants to get this old guy’s attention now is beyond me. 
“Well, no shit Elena! We got that part. What we want to know is why would you want to,” I throw my hands up at her in exasperation. 
“If Klaus finds you he will kill you,” Rose looks at Elena as if she’s grown a second head and then comes to a realization, “which is what you wanted all along.”
Elena shakes her head, “It’s either me or my family.”
“So this whole charade was some suicide mission so you could sacrifice yourself and save everyone else.” Rose shakes her head at Elena’s actions as the sound of heals and the smell of Victoria’s Secret perfume enter the room.
“Cody is on his way,” I side-eye Alice, “And he really wants to meet you.”
—
Rose and I watch silently as Elena walks back into the living room, to wait for the Grimp Reaper named Cody. 
“Ok listen to me,” Rose calls my attention as she pulls out her phone from her jeans, “You’re going to use my phone to call Damon and get him here no matter what. Do you understand me? I’ll go distract the suicidal one.” Rose shoves the phone into my hand and speeds off into the living room. I open her phone to find Damon’s contact and hope he picks up.
“What,” Damon’s annoyed voice comes from the other end.
“Um, hi. This is Y/N.” 
Damon’s side goes quiet for a moment, “Who?”
I roll my eyes at his annoyed tone, “Y’know the girl that got kidnapped with Elena?”
“Elena gets kidnapped a lot you’re going to have to be more specific.”
I sigh deeply, “The one that smelled like vomit.”
“Ah, that one. What do you want Pukey, and why do you have Rose’s phone?” His tone has a sense of suspicion in it that makes me unnerved.
“Well long story short Elena made Rose and I take her to this dead guy's apartment,” I stop for a moment, “Well technically we didn’t know he was dead but..”
“Pukey spit it out I don’t have all day.”
“OK fine, sorry. Anyways, long story short Elena’s planned some suicide mission to give herself to Klaus and we need you to come to the dead guy's apartment to help us get her out of here.”
Damon lets out an annoyed growl from the other line, “Send me the address.”
“Ok, great I’ll send that-,” The dial tone cuts me off, “Ok then, rude.” I send Damon the address and pocket Rose’s phone hoping that he’ll get here in time. 
—-
I try to focus on the coolness of the new apple juice in my hand as I watch the door from my spot on the couch. Elena’s pacing can be heard from behind me which is almost as noticeable as the scowl on Rose’s face. Elena’s pacing stops, gaining my attention as I move my gaze from the door to her.
“I’m just going to get a drink,” She tells me as she walks towards the kitchen. Rose and I share a look of discomfort as she exits. Elena’s gasps catch our attention though and my stomach drops expecting the worst as I rush to the kitchen. My guard drops slightly though as the familiar blue-eyed vampire, who I’m 89% sure is in love Elena stands in front of her. 
“What are you doing here,” Damon questions Elena.
“What are you doing here,” Elena’s voice comes out breathy and she turns around to look at Rose and me. 
“You called him,” She exclaims earning a small shrug and pursed lips from me, and a frown from Rose. 
“We’re sorry, Elena,” Rose apologizes for us both.
“You said that you understood,” I go to chime in that I never said that but Damon speaks first. 
“She lied.” Elena turns and I can only guess glares at him, which seems to be something she does a lot when it comes to Damon. I groan deeply as I get another whiff of that fucking perfume.
“Damon Salvatore,” Alice exclaims as she enters the room acting like she and Damon are old friends.
Damon tells Rose to get rid of her without breaking eye contact with Elena. As Rose leaves the room with Alice and my nostrils are free from the assault I stand awkwardly behind Elena and Damon as they argue back and forth. Elena tells him that she’s not going anywhere and Damon tells her the exact opposite. I try to sneak backward to escape this awkward situation but my back hits a shelf behind me knocking a vase of it and I watch with a scrunched-up face as it shatters against the floor. 
“Whoops.”
Damon shoves Elena into a chair, “You sit down, and you,” Damon’s attention turns to me, “just don’t touch anything else.” I raise my hands in surrender as I keep my hold on my juice.
Everything’s going fine until the front door slams open causing me to spill some juice onto the top of my shirt in surprise. I can’t bother to clean it up though as I watch in fear as three bulky men enter the room. Where Rose, Damon, and Elena stand up to face them I slink further into my armchair with my comfort juice. I would help but I don’t think I can hold a candle to three vampires. 
“We’re here for the doppelganger,” the blond one in the middle says.
“Thank you for coming,” Elena attempts to step forward but is grabbed by Damon. He tells her something but I’m too far away to hear it.
Damon turns back to face the men, “There’s nothing here for you.” 
I jump in my seat when the man in the back falls to the ground. That turning feeling in my stomach from days ago returns as I see the man who is supposed to be very dead standing VERY much alive. Elijah. His brown hair is parted down the middle and a deep scowl is plastered on his face. Just like the other day, he’s dressed in a fancy button-up and slacks with shoes that probably cost more than my car. 
Elijah speeds forward to the other two men, and I find myself involuntarily inching forward in my seat. I freeze though once I realize this movement has captured Elijah’s attention and the dark look from before has lessened into something that makes something deep in my chest flutter around. What the fuck Y/N? I’m frozen in place as Elijah’s eyes move across my face and down to the apple juice I’m now constricting in my hands. I watch as for a moment the corners of Elijah’s lips perk up.
“I ki
“I killed you, you were dead” Damon accusingly says to Elijah. Elijah's gaze slowly slides from mine and towards Damon.
“For centuries now,” Elijah’s nonchalant voice has me swallowing down a snort as I cover my mouth. Elijah’s eyes slide to mine for a moment making me realize he must’ve heard.
The burly man from before is the next to speak, “Who are you?”
“I’m Elijah.”
This revelation has the two men instantly dropping their alpha male acts, “We were going to bring her to you
for Klaus. She’s the doppelganger. I don’t know how she exists, but she does. Klaus would want to see her.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. It’s kind of obvious she’s the doppelganger buddy. Elijah doesn’t glance at the man once.
“Does anyone else know that you’re here,” As Elijah says this I get a sickening feeling in my gut just like before when I watched him decapitate a grown man. Elijah’s eyes pan to mine and then he glances at the window next to me. I look away from him and focus on the outside world beyond the glance since I feel what’s coming. 
“Well,” Elijah continues, “then you have been incredibly helpful.” Gasps are the next audible thing as I clench my eyes shut and listen to two bodies drop to the floor. 
—-- 
Elena’s hands are holding my hair back as I puke up my guts in the apartment parking lot. Damon who is already in the car is sighing so loudly I can hear him over my gags. Asshole. 
“Just let it out,” Elena brushes back my hair soothingly, “Everything’s ok now.”
I whip my head back to throw her a, “are you serious” look. To which she responds with a shrug. I lift off my hands and knees and wipe my lips. Elena guides me to Damon’s car as I slide into the back seat. Elena’s door isn’t even fully shut before Damon hightails us out of the parking lot. 
“I thought Elijah was dead! You guys told me he was dead! Why isn’t he not dead,” I exclaim from the backseat.
Damon’s fists tighten on the leather steering wheel, “Great question Pukey. It’s almost like no one else was wondering it.” His sarcastic remark and the unflattering nickname have me glaring at him.
“Damon enough,” Elena backs me up, “Y/N is right. Why is Elijah alive and why did he just leave us there alive?” 
We sit in silence for a moment pondering the truth of Elena’s question. 
“I’m not sure,” Damon glances at the side of Elena’s face, “But I’m going to find out.”
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patricia-taxxon · 16 days ago
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re: your last ask about feeling threatened by transmascs, as someone who technically i guess counts as transmasc, im sorry that others similar to me have made you feel unsafe. im not the same anon im just scared to post publically since im also a poc and plural and i know theyd love to rip me a new one if i spoke in opposition to them lol. im seeing them in the notes already jumping to conclusions and saying you were "thinking before speaking" and crying infighting, but how come that is the first response to seeing a transfem express very general discomfort or fear, after publically and repeatedly facing abuse and mistreatment from transmascs? the same people who try to socially murder you every time they disagree with something you say are mad that you dont like being kicked down anymore and feel apprehensive to interact with them. genuinely some white guilt level of sensitivity going on. i dont feel safe around white transmascs either at this point. other transmascs reading this post i genuinely need you guys to examine WHY she (and other transfems, especially on this platform) does not feel safe instead of immediately feeling butthurt. "infighting" is not "i have a rational fear after experiencing firsthand relentless online harassment specifically by transmisogynistic transmascs", patricia is not saying that she hates them anywhere or is causing a divide by expressing her fear. the same way that cis women are not "infighting" with men when they express fear after being abused. the people who ARE infighting are the transmisogynistic transmascs, that is who you need to call out. assuming otherwise is completely missing the point, but i have low hopes for people on this platform to examine their gut responses and biases.
ending this on a nice note, i hope this wasnt out of line and i didnt say anything wrong, i just woke up and got really mad that someone baited you with that ask and now the exact transmascs youre afraid of are about to do it all again. whoever asked that wanted this response to probably make some gotcha. love your music and im wishing yall the best with your plurality 🙏
Thank you for the kind words, but I don't think I was baited. I was emboldened by close friends to speak up instead of just deleting the ask, and I've been further emboldened by both the negative and positive responses. The instant not-all-men-ism and telling me to get offline because misogyny doesn't exist in real life and immediate typecasting as an angry man-hating feminist in proper 2014 reddit fashion, it's sobering, I guess. It's nice to see others having that same sober response, though. I never know how to respond to these long asks that are just people voicing agreement.
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dearsnow · 1 year ago
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ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)
- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)
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word count: 2,647
a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!
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It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.
“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.
Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know for sure. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.
You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.
“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.
Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.
He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.
He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”
You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”
“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.
He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.
It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.
Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.
“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.
“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”
Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.
You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.
He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.
He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.
“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”
Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”
He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.
You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?
“Yeah. That
 I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.
“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.
It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.
By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.
You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.
“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.
You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but
 I’m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.
You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.
“What do you think about Y/N?”
Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”
There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”
Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”
Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”
“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They’re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”
“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.
Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.
After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.
He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”
You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.
Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.
“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.
“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”
Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.
“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”
For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.
You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”
“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.
“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.
He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just
” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.
He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.
“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.
When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.
Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.
“Can I kiss you?”
You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“
He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.
When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.
“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”
He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”
You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”
“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”
“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.
“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”
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starlightkun · 1 year ago
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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 cafĂ© 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 cafĂ©, 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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wannaeatramyeon · 11 months ago
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Seong Taehoon x Reader: Military Service
Final chapter spoiler! G/N. Fluff.
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Your presence slips into stories with other troops. Places you visited together, things you both experienced, time spent side by side.
"Did you used to hang out at the arcade on your own?" A fellow soldier asks Taehoon.
Taehoon thinks of your face lit up in the artificial glow, his battle victories and KO reflected in your eyes. He responds to the question with a shrug.
It used to be true, after Do Woon, then it wasn't true at all once he met you.
.
.
"Are you stupid? Of course Haeundae beach is the best!" A voice pipes up amidst the mess hall chatter.
"Boring." Someone else dismisses, "Everyone always goes there. Overcrowded."
Overcrowded. 
That's one way to put Taehoon's time with you and the Yoo Hobin Company at Daecheon beach, another well known tourist spot.
He spent most of the time annoyed on the train journey, irritated on the sand, shoulder barging people on the pier, and growling at men ogling you for too long.
But then you two ended up drinking on the pier alone that night; you swaying from drinking too much and Taehoon stone cold sober-
"You're really bad tempered you know," you narrow your eyes at Taehoon, who whips his head round at your slurred speech and scowls, "and your personality is definitely something. You're abrasive and mean and hotheaded." 
Taehoon’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline at this unprovoked attack.
"How you have any friends I don't even know. It's like people are attracted to you being an asshole. I suppose I can't talk." You tap your chin, deep in thought and oblivious to how much he looks on the brink of storming off, "Though... I guess you're sweet in your own way. You're cute too. Especially when you pout. I don't pout!" You taunt, in a tone eerily similar to his and you cackle at your own hilarious impression.
Taehoon subtly stops his bottom lip jutting out.
"And you look after me. Even if you also deny that." You direct a drunken grin his way, and don't notice that he doesn't look mad anymore. You didn't even realise he was mad in the first place. "Your disrespect for my personal space is sometimes infuriating too but often hot." You take a swig of your beer muttering, "I don't know why I'm telling you this." 
Taehoon smirks, leaning into your space, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilting you up to face him.
"Hot, huh?"
"Asshole," you breathe. You don't know whether the rush of blood to your cheeks is a result of the alcohol or something else.
Taehoon arches an eyebrow, incredulous at your audacity. "I'm the asshole? After everything you just said? You want me to beat you up?"
You huff, looking anywhere but him. "I don't really think you're an asshole. Most of the time. I think I just... I really like you."
You had your first kiss that night. 
You always tell everyone you don't know who kissed who, and Taehoon is surprisingly gentlemanly enough not to say. 
But you remember leaning in first, feeling his gasp-turned-chuckle-turned-sigh on your lips.
.
.
His lungs are on fire, heart thumping in his ears, sweat dripping down his face 
Put through his paces with an 80lb pack on his back, paying for his cocky attitude in the first month to his superiors.
He feels their eyes, impressed though lips curled, as he finishes the 6am drills first yet again. 
"Shit!" Taehoon turns to see a private finishing behind him, a good minute slower, before dropping to all fours and dry heaving.
"H-How the fuck are you so fast? Who did you train with?"
Technically his dad. Taehoon gives his answer, clipped and curt.
What he doesn't mention is you sitting in the dojo all those evenings and nights and early mornings too. In the corner on your laptop, surrounded by books, half falling asleep. Or simply - watching.
What he also doesn't mention, nor has he ever confessed, is that your presence spurs him on to work harder, kick harder, punch harder.
If just for the way your face lights up, mouth forming an 'o', the occasional applause when he's been particularly impressive.
He calls you cringe every time.
Yet he has never mentioned how his chest puffs with pride at your praise, but he thinks it may have been obvious anyway.
.
.
Taehoon spots you, back to him, gently swaying to the music on your own. No doubt eyes on Rumi and Wangguk’s first dance as husband and wife, like everyone else.
Your hair looks longer, though of course it is. It's been months.
Self consciousness creeps in. Taehoon wonders if you mind that he hasn't had time to change, his bomber jackets untouched for so long. He wonders if you will like his hair, short and natural, military standard.
Most of all-
If you will still feel the same. After all, young love is fickle, flighty, fleeting.
He swallows down his nervousness and ignores the fluttering in his stomach.
.
.
You feel an arm curling round your waist. The weight of the hand and the heat of the embrace you've dreamt about for nights on end.
"I've been waiting for you," you whisper.
Taehoon kisses you. It feels like the first time, on the sun bleached pier, all those years ago.
Except, he leans in first. 
The softness of your lips just as he remembers, and tonight, he feels your pleased sigh ghosting his skin.
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bisexual-horror-fan · 4 months ago
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"The Test." Part One. Sugar Daddy AU. Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Sugar Baby Reader.
Okay! OKAY! SO! Do you all remember this, from Kinky/Do-Over-December back in the day? A Stu Macher sugar daddy AU I was fucking around with? This is set in that AU again, in said fic, I mentioned a little beach house weekend getaway with some breaking and entering Ghostface role play, this? Is that! Fully realized, or at least, partially realized for now. This thing is long, I have been working on it on and off for over a fucking YEAR! I started it shortly after I met Matt and Skeet last summer at fan expo, (can you guess why I was feeling inspired?) So because this is so long, (12.6K as of right now) I figured, why not break it up into two parts? And if you guys like it a lot, I might do some more! This is meant to be a three day weekend and this thing when it is done will be just the first night technically, so hit me up and let me know what you think!
PART TWO NOW HERE!
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Rating. Explict. Length. 7.6K. Billy Loomis/Stu Mach/Sugar Baby FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Age Gap. Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Sex Work Is Real Work. We Respect Sex Work. Talk Of Sex. Vaginal Fingering. Talk Of Threesome. Extreme Role Play. Mask Kink. Breaking And Entering. Masturbation. Chase. Predetor/Prey. Stalking. Voyeurism. Restrained Reader. Knife Kink. Dirty Talk. Threatening And Possessive Behavior.
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Initially, it wasn’t something you put much stock into. I mean, it was one of those things that sounded too good to be true, you make a profile, you meet up with men, if you click, and they like you, they pay you to spend time with you. They take you out on dates, and buy you things and sure, they fuck you, but still you could do that? Get paid money to be good company, attractive and a great sexual partner? You think you could at least attempt it. So you figured why not, after some serious online research and looking into other people who had been successful at sugaring you decided to give it a go. You find one of these sites, you spend a good two days on your profile before it goes live and then, you wait. 
When you got your first message, it was honestly pretty exciting, even though you never ended up meeting with said first person, it got you more sure about the process. After some more interest, you end up starting it in earnest. 
You meet up in a public location, the first meeting is always feeling each other out, the next one, if there is one, is getting to know each other better, and then the next is talking about expectations on both sides. You have some real duds here and there, but over time you cultivate some good and regular clients, you make friends on your sites of choice as well as while working, a lot of the guys who look for girls like you tend to keep similar company. Regularly you go to parties or work events or the like and come across another girl just like you and begin to form relationships with them, some becoming good friends because they got it, understood what you went through because they were in it themselves. 
The guys you saw were overall good, you didn’t even have a sexual relationship with all of them, not everyone who seeks out girls in your line of work even want that, a lot just want company, to be heard, or to have someone to show off, and you made for very good arm candy.
You’d been doing good, barely had to do any regular work, still had a part-time job, but most of your lifestyle was paid for by the guys who you saw and entertained and the quality of your life had improved massively at that. You had experience and a good reputation, so when a regular client dropped off, as they sometimes do, he moved too far to be able to continue to see you as he liked, you needed someone to fill the gap. In no particular rush, still fairly comfortable, you were able to be picky about who you accepted into your life. When you got the message from him, it wasn’t this huge defining moment, it was plain and perfectly average, but aren’t most things that end up being fantastic? 
After some regular chatting back and forth together, you and he agree to a meeting, lunch out at one of your favourite spots for testing out a new potential client. 
To say that your life totally changed after that lunch would be incorrect. It was more of a slow burn. Stu Macher was significantly older than you, attractive, had some job pertaining to finance, runs in the family apparently, and had money to toss around. You are not the first girl he’d had in an arrangement like this but, he told you, he has some particular qualities he is looking for in a long term set up. He was up front and honest, he wanted to see you more, he liked you, thought you and he got along well, and you thought the same, but he wanted to test you out. 
“Test me out how?” You asked, and he said, “Like we see each other for a few months and see how it goes, if this can be what I’ve been looking for.”
Interesting. You appreciate his candour if nothing else, you can get behind someone who is explicit and clear about what they want, especially in this respect. “Can I ask what it is that you are looking for?” 
He has this smile that is dripping in undeniable charm before he speaks, “No need to rush, right? Let’s have some fun and not stress.” You assumed that is what will tell him if this, and by extension you, are “right.” 
You could do that, could be fun and easy and go with the flow. What did you have to lose?
Stu is a fun guy, he works hard and is desperate to have a good time and de-stress, you take that want seriously and he takes notice. You do all manner of things together, mostly he plans dates, but you suggest some once you get more comfortable, and he likes that, it not being all up to him, more of a joint effort after a certain point. You clean up amazingly well, he can bring you to any event he wants to, and you slot right in. As for the physical aspect, you didn’t rush into it, but once you got there, it was kind of hard to stop. It became a very frequent thing, you did not mind at all, especially because it led to a slow shift, Stu wanted you around more and more, other clients got in the way of that. 
It was the afternoon, you’d been with Stu since the previous evening, you were trying to leave because you had to go get ready for an event someone else was taking you out to, and he didn’t want you to go. You were sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get your boots on, getting the rest of your outfit back on thus far had been a total fight, he was currently holding you. Arms were loose around your neck as he was leaning into you, “Come on, stay. Let me take you out to that dinner spot you like, the one that we hit up last month, the rooftop place that does the pasta thing-” 
You cut him off with a grin and a laugh, “Stu, I can’t, I have to go. I’ve already stayed way later than I was supposed to but I gotta go home, shower, change
” His arms had slipped down, hands rest on your arms near your elbows, he was laying some kisses along your neck, and you let out a groan with a roll of your eyes, “Knock it off.” You try to let the smile drop off your face as you complain, but you fail.
“I don’t know why you have to go.” He sighed, sounded like he was pouting, his head leaning against yours, and you tell him as you zip up your left boot, “Because I have other people to see.”
“See, that is what I mean! I don't know why you have to see anyone else.” 
You shake his arms off of you and stand up, you turn to see him, sheets are pooled around his hips, and he is shirtless looking up at you. It is a sight that is all too welcome, one you seriously wish you didn’t have to leave. Instead of telling him that, you say, “They help pay for my life, this is my job.”
It is true. Stu had become such a regular that in combination with him and your other clients you were able to quit that shitty part-time job, able to do this full-time. The past couple of months with him were great, you felt good about shifting gears to doing this all the time, thankful he was able to help make it happen.
He looks thoughtful, something is weighing on him, it is as if you can see him turning over the thought on his mind and as you are collecting your bag and coat he says, “What if I gave you more money?”
“What?”
You glance at him over your shoulder, and he says with a shrug, effectively repeating himself, “What if I give you more money? Then you wouldn’t have to go, could stay here with me.” 
Your eyebrows raise as you deadpan, “Stu, please. Don’t joke about that.”
“Who says I’m joking? Does it look like I’m joking?” He asked, and you respond, “You are grinning like you do when you are joking.” 
“What can I say? I just look better with a smile on my face.” You had to agree, but you don’t verbalize it. He speaks again before you can, “I mean it, though. What if I give you more, then you can have more time for me.”
Was he for real? “It would take like a lot more.”
“I have a lot more to give.” He challenged. Searching his eyes, you could tell he meant it. You said, “I need time to think on it.”
His reply is immediate. “Why?” 
You bite the inside of your cheek, you don’t want to offend but you and he could be open, honest, and you appreciated that about your set-up, so in the interest of continuing it, you told him, “Because like you said this is meant to be a more casual thing right? You are testing me out, I don’t wanna burn bridges with great clients I copped before you came into the picture if you are gonna leave soon. What am I supposed to do if you bail out?”
It’s tense for a moment. You are staring at him, and he is staring back. It was true, what were you meant to do if he leaves? You could seriously struggle until you build up a good clientele base again. 
“You trust me so much.” He teases, the tone is light and affectionate, and you let your shoulders fall back down, happy he didn’t take serious offence to what you said, “Stu, I do, but seriously, this isn’t a choice that can be made quickly, give me some time to really think on it?”  
“No, no, you’re right. You are just being careful, it’s smart, responsible. I respect you for it.” His smile drops, he says it earnestly, and you believe him as he adds, “Think it over.”
You walk to him, bag over your shoulder, coat folded over your arm, your hand comes out and cups the side of his face, you lean down and kiss him. You linger in it, he lets it be what it is, doesn’t take the opportunity to try and entice you back into his bed, even though if he tried hard enough, he probably could. 
Once you pull back, you tell him, “I will.” You leave him slowly, fingers caressing him, your thumb passing over his cheekbone as you go. “See you Stu.” 
You didn’t bring it up the next time you saw him and neither did he, you think he was waiting you out, seeing when you’d say something. You think about it the whole time, but you just aren’t sure if it is right. Things aren’t weird between you both, if anything, it gets even better and so you at last initiate the conversation, or rather, you are going to, but he starts a different one with you first. 
“Are you busy on Sunday morning?” It was Thursday, you were having lunch, you tell him honestly, “As of right now, no. Why?” 
“I was thinking we could go out to brunch. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.” 
He’d introduced you to lots of people, but usually it was when bumping into someone while out and about or at a party or some other thing he dragged you to. You had never been asked to some specific date to meet a particular person. You asked, “Oh, and who’s that?” 
You had heard a lot about Billy Loomis. Stu had told you a ton about him, shared old stories and made frequent mentions of the times they hung out over the past months you’ve been in Mr.Macher’s life, he even showed you some pictures. One evening a month into your arrangement, he showed you a picture from back when they were in high school. You take it from his fingers with a grin as you exclaim, “Oh my God! So you’ve just always been hot, huh?” 
You don’t comment on it at the time, but you thought his lifetime best friend who was sitting next to him on the fountain in the photograph was pretty hot too. When Stu posed the idea of you meeting him? You jumped at the opportunity, a passive thought at the back of your mind wondering if he aged as well as Stu had. 
It is quarter to eleven o’clock when you stride into the place with Stu. You have your hand on his arm, and you are caught up in something he is saying, looking up at him until you see his gaze catch something, original thought and sentence abandoned as his grin widens and calls out, “Hey man!” 
You follow where he is looking and eyes fall on who is unmistakably who you are here to see, yeah he was of course older than he was in the picture that you saw but no doubt it was him. He gets up as you both approach, a polite gesture and one that isn’t necessary, but the fact he did is telling, it resonates. You like that. 
He is also very obviously checking you out, you also like that. 
Seeing how Stu interacted with him first hand is a total treat. The greeting and how they touch shows a friendly familiarity, both leaning into the hug like it was the most natural thing either of them had ever done. You knew they were still in touch and spent time together regularly but witnessing it all in real time is a different story. They get along well, a clear history and investment between them both. He asked you questions and genuinely listened, seemed interested, he also responded to your questions too.
“When did you and Stu meet?” 
“He didn’t tell you?” He asked with a smile, and Stu cuts in, “She never asked!”
“What am I gonna do with you, man?” He sighs the sigh of the world-weary and put upon yet still with a smile on his face he next imparts, “Let me tell you how it happened since he apparently won’t.” 
They’d known each other since they were kids, well before high school, longer than you’d anticipated, lifetime best friends indeed. You thought it was nice, a friends forever kind of deal, the fact they’ve remained close so far into adulthood and still made time for each other was honestly kind of touching. The conversation even went into some stories of their friendship while they were growing up, excited recollections shared over crĂȘpes, eggs benny, coffee and fresh fruit juice.
It was a good time, you were glad you agreed to come, and after you ate but before the check you excused yourself to the bathroom. 
As soon as you were out of earshot, Stu was staring at his friend as he asked, “Soooo?”
Billy looked away from your retreating form, and more in particular your ass, and instead back across the table to Stu, “Soooo what?”
He scoffs with a roll of his eyes, “So, what do you think of her?”
“Oh she’s great. I totally get what you mean when you’ve been talking about her, funny, cute, lively, a real good time.” He admits with a half shrug and Stu sighed, “But?”
It hangs for a moment before the response comes, “But I dunno if she is right for what we want to do.” 
“There it is, I fucking knew it!” A light hit of his hand on the table that made the dirty plates jostle slightly, a quiet rattle before he goes in on Billy. “Why isn’t she good enough?” Stu is leaning forward on his crossed arms as he presses, and Billy says, “It’s a serious thing, man, it isn’t for just anyone.”
“You think I don’t know that? I wouldn’t bring her if I didn’t think she was right. I’ve been seeing her for months and really, Billy, she is something else.” Stu insists, and Billy sighs, “So you keep saying.”
Lowering his voice next, he responds with,“You helped pick her out, remember? You liked her first, and I put in the effort to do this.” 
“Don’t act like it’s a chore, you and I both know you don’t hate the selection process or the ‘trying them out’ either. You’d be seeking out these kinds of arrangements even without my hand in it, this is just a bonus for us both, one that doesn’t need to be rushed into either.” Billy told him and Stu said, “I am not saying that at all, of course I like it dude, and I am not rushing this, I am just saying, what do we have to lose by trying this and by you trusting me?”
The small staring contest across the table lasts less than a tense silence filled minute before Billy speaks, seemingly surprised, “Shit, you really do think she’s right.”
“Duh, that’s what I’ve been saying. Listen to me, I’ve been careful, I’ve played, pushed the boundaries and I think she is the best we could ever hope for so.” The pause isn’t long, but it doesn’t need to be before the real question is posed. “Can I ask?” 
When you came back to the table, the brunch lasted less than twenty more minutes before the bill was paid and you and Stu parted ways from Billy. Warm goodbyes and waves, and promises to do this again sometime soon. 
Naturally, on the way back to his place he is asking what you thought of it all, and you admitted that you thought Billy was cool, enjoyed getting to know him and were looking forward to next time. That real question was asked with you spread out on his couch, him leaning over you, hand between your legs and two fingers curling just right inside you, his mouth lifts off your neck as he asks, “What are your feelings on the topic of threesomes?”
An indulgent smile crosses your face, a deep breath as you ask, “Was this what pushed you to introduce me to him today?”
Another flex of his fingers makes it hard to breathe normally, and he says, “Answer the question.” 
You nod shakily and tell him your stance on threesomes over the wet sound of his fingers working in and out of you, “Pro. Very, very pro.”
That answer was just what he wanted to hear, but it didn’t end there. “You’d be into it then, hm? You wanna fuck my best friend?” 
You were helpless to do anything else but moan your consent as you clenched around his fingers. “Yeah, you want it. Want to get split open from both ends, totally used.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact that you completely agreed with. You did. The more he talked about it, the better it sounded. More words shared, more dirty talk, hopeful ideas posed, and you were clearly eating every last bit of it up. Soon enough your legs were around his hips and he was as deep as could be, hands on your back and asking low in your ear, “We were thinking next weekend, you’d like that?” 
Holy shit, yes you would. 
It wasn’t just a threesome he, or rather, they wanted, it was a little more complex than that. He outlined what he wanted in full, when you weren’t actively fucking, and it was so clear, so precise, it was impressive. Clearly, they both had wanted it for a long while, he seems very excited when telling you about it, and it got you excited, the whole thing sounded so hot, you readily agreed, you trusted him, the plan was made. 
You could hardly contain your excitement for the next week, but soon enough you are in your rented car, driving yourself to where you’d been instructed to for this weekend’s plan. The drive is a good one, relaxing, it’s summer and mid-morning, the radio is playing and you are feeling good.
Upon arrival and getting out, you place your sunglasses on top of your head, staring up at the multi-level beach house you’d be residing in for the next three days, it’s massive for only one person and stunning, well maintained. Bags gotten from the back, you don’t waste time on the driveway and make your way inside. The outside didn’t even do it justice, looks even better inside, big windows, lots of natural light, the living room is comfortable, the kitchen is gorgeous, the back patio looks like the perfect place to have lunch later. 
You scope out the rest of the place, drop your bags in the bedroom upstairs, and you spend the rest of the day however you like. A trip into the nearby town, you get some good food, plan out what you are going to make for dinner, when you are back you have that lunch on the patio and the rest of your afternoon? After you change, you head down to the beach and spend it in the water and on the sand, relaxing with some music and a book. 
It’s hours and hours later. 
Dinner was fantastic, you’d made one of your favourites, indulged in dessert and drew a bath that you soaked in for a long time before finally pulling yourself out of it. Fluffy robe around yourself, you make your way back to the bedroom and take advantage of your very relaxed state at the moment, you hadn’t even bothered to tie the robe up, flopping back onto the bed. The robe was open, mostly just looped around your shoulders at this point, one hand slipping down your body and intent on working up a sweat, adding to the moisture on your already damp skin. 
You put on a very good show. 
They’d let you arrive first, but had been casually watching from afar for a while. They didn’t tell you when they’d arrive, they’d showed up when you had been cleaning up from lunch and then got changed for the beach. The pair had brought their bags in while you were in the water, hid them in the basement before really watching you, too far down the beach for you to recognize them, looking like just two average beach goers. This was fun, the casual stalking, the clear thought and intention, building anticipation for later that night. 
Stu opens the cooler upon his friends’ prompting, passing him the cold can, “How long have we wanted to do this?”
Billy exhaled as he accepted the beer, “Fuck man, years, don’t ask me how many, but years.”
A small beat before Stu asks, “Think it will live up to it?” 
“I’m trying to keep my expectations
” He hums as he cracks open the can, he takes a sip, leaves Stu hanging before finally saying, “-Realistic.”
“Come on, don’t act like you aren’t excited.” Stu nudged him before opening up his own can and Billy shifted in his comfortable beach chair, he was half hard watching you coming back out of the water, totally unaware of them. He was excited, really excited but again, talking about it and experiencing it are different, he isn’t trying to get his hopes up too high. 
“I’m into it, I swear, just again I dunno how it’s all gonna pan out.” 
“Your lack of faith is staggering.” Stu deadpans and Billy proceeds to defend himself, a gesture of his hands trying to communicate his point more strongly, “Listen, I am being open, I’m just not convinced.”
Receiving a harsh look, Stu’s mouth a flat unimpressed line is what makes Billy add on, “Yet.” 
Billy’s smile makes Stu smile too, and he says, “I’ll make you eat those words.” 
A small shake of his head as he brings up his drink for another sip,“I honestly hope you do.” 
The conversation on the beach was hours ago, their own shared meal eaten outside in the dark, hidden, watching you through the window as you sat at the table and indulged in what you made. After that, while you were bathing, they busied themselves with getting geared up in the garage, they’d stowed the outfits there earlier and had let themselves in through the side door. 
The excitement permeates the space between the pair. 
There is no talking at this moment, but both are thinking so loud, it was as if they were having a full-blown conversation, memories of previous times and feelings of exhilaration over what new stories to recall could be made tonight. Boot laces tied tightly, and robes over street clothes, masks on making breathing sound so much deeper and gloves pulled onto hands, over itchy fingers desperate to do all manner of depravity. 
It starts the way they always wanted it to, the only way that it should, with a phone call. 
Your phone on is on the nightstand, and it rings, your head lolls back, a look over, nose scrunching up wondering who is calling at this time. You roll onto your stomach, you scoop up your phone with one hand before rolling back over, you look at the screen, unknown number, but you shrug and answer it anyway, what have you got to lose? You swipe and bring the phone down to your ear and say, “Hello?”
You hear a laugh, small and a tad surprised, before the greeting is returned, “Hello there.” 
Curious, now why would the person on the other end be laughing? It prompts you to ask, “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.” Interesting, you ask, “Sorry, so, uh who is this?”
“Awfully inquisitive, aren’t you?” He asks, and you ask in turn, your hand that wasn't holding the phone is up in front of your face, you are looking at it as you speak, “Am I?”
“All you’ve said so far are questions, from greeting to now, can’t it just be enough that I am a
Curious party.” You spread your fingers, they are still wet from your earlier activities. You are still soaked, aching, throbbing, thighs rub together restlessly as you ask further, “A curious party?”
“Yeah, just someone looking for some good conversation on a lonely Friday night, desperate for someone interesting to talk to, and you seem very, very interesting.” 
You spread your fingers again, watch the creamy strings of arousal break apart from the action, you ask, “Really? I seem that interesting that I am your best option to spend your time with on a Friday evening?” 
“What’s wrong with that?” Whoever he was asked, your hand comes down without thought, you suck the mess from your fingers, the taste is tangy and salty, thoroughly you, delightful. You pull your fingers back out of your mouth as you respond wetly into the phone, “Nothing terminal, it’s just a tad
”
You swallow it down and then finish your thought, “Pathetic.”
The voice sounds almost offended on the other end, shocked as he asks, “Pathetic?”
“Just a little! Like you don’t have a hot date or plans to see a movie, you are just, what? Cold calling strangers in hopes of someone to talk to? Kinda screams pathetic.” You are smiling, damp fingertips linger on your bottom lip and the voice speaks, once again curious as if still in disbelief over your assertion, “I’m pathetic?”
You roll your eyes and say, “Half-pathetic, is that better? C’mon, don’t get hung up on it, we were having fun, weren’t we?”
“Seems you were having more fun before I called.” He bites, and it’s your turn to laugh, “What makes you say that?” 
The question was genuine, how did he have any idea what you were up to before he called?
You got your answer very quickly, “As much as I am enjoying this conversation, I think you were enjoying having those fingers buried in that pretty little cunt a Hell of a lot more than this back and forth we are having at the moment.”
Heart drops, stomach tightens and your thighs still, hand dropping from your mouth, silence overtakes, how the fuck did he know that? 
It’s heavy for a moment until he breaks the quiet, “Oh you got nothing to say to that? Now who’s pathetic?” 
Your mouth opens and closes, tongue runs nervously over your lips as you try to find the words to respond, attempting to conjure up an adequate response but none springs to mind fast enough because he cuts in again, he sounds a mix between dangerously venomous and utterly amused, “You really are struggling! Did your brain leak outta your skull, hmm? No blood flow between the ears, it seems, it’s all pooled between your legs.” 
You sit up, mouth having fully fallen open, the words trying to soak into your grey matter as you bite back, “I have a brain!” 
The response from the receiver is sharper in tone than the edge of a fucking knife. “Act like it.” 
Holy fucking shit. 
You still have not spoken, so he continues to, “Because right now, you just seem totally fucking brain-dead, can’t even string a single sentence together. Is your mind elsewhere? Do you want to keep putting on a show for me instead?-”
He can see you. He has to, how else would he know what you have been up to, he is fucking talking, again,  “-I bet you do. Go on, go ahead, get those fingers back in that tight looking little hole, I’m waiting.”
You were not about to do this, were you? There was no fucking way that you would give in so easily, no you weren’t about to start masturbating for this freak on the phone, you were going to do something far more productive, track the son of a bitch. You are sitting up, looking around, the still wet hand closing your robe over your chest while your other hand held the phone to your ear. 
Get your body covered, get up off the bed, make sure the doors are locked, make it, so this freak can’t get in, go, go, go- his voice cuts through your train of thought once more, “Oh you are so cute! You are not going to find me that easily.” 
He might be right, but that doesn’t mean you were going to give up that easily, you are out of bed, robe is closed, and you are across the room, hand on the door knob, you twist, pull, the door opens, and it is revealed that you are in fact not actually alone in this beach house. 
“Surprise!” 
A tall figure clad in black hooded robes, a bleached bone white mask staring down at you, black eyes and mouth twisted open in a permanent scream, it makes you want to do that yourself. 
Instead, what you do is react quicker than you ever thought you could, you drop the phone, your hand comes up, and you move, slamming the door closed, one hand on the wood and the other still braced on the knob moves, you click the lock closed. Backing up, hands held up, bare foot brushing against the discarded cell abandoned on the floor as if on a cue the phone starting ringing when you made contact with it again, you jumped and vowed not to answer it. The pounding on the door is loud and incessant, he’s strong, he can get in here if he really wants to, and it sounds like he really fucking wants to. You think fast, you look around the room and make a choice that you can’t stay in here, you have a place you can go, but it’s risky, you have to be careful. 
You turn on your heel and move, abandon the door and still ringing phone and as you leave both sounds gets a little quieter, you enter into the ensuite bathroom, you close its door and lock it too before you hurry to the window. Cinching the robe’s belt tighter around your waist, you double knot it, and then you open the window, the breeze rolls in, fresh air on your face feels nice, soothing and calming, a slight balm to your currently frayed nerves and overactive mind, the smell of sea salt is strong. 
Fingers deftly roll your sleeves up, folding them, so they rest around your elbows, and then you set to your plan, you start to climb out the window. This place had a slanted roof, at a small angle, one you’d have to be cautious walking on, but you could walk on it all the same. You were going to hold on for dear life and make your way to the guest bedroom window, creep in quietly and then be able to hopefully get downstairs and out, away from this freak who wants to do God knows what to you. 
Doing this barefoot, is it smart or stupid? You find you can’t decide as you carefully step on the rough tiling, you have one hand on the top of the windowsill, and soon you are out into the open air, you keep one hand up, and slowly you start to move, hand braced on the roof, fingers passing over as you shuffle and move. You feel like a bit of a cliché’ as you keep thinking, “Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down-” 
You manage to make it after about a minute of mindful manoeuvring, your hand grips onto the window’s ledge and your other hand forces the window open, thank the Lord it wasn’t locked. The want to throw yourself inside is immense, but you have to be careful, instead you ease yourself in, ears strain to listen, you don’t hear the pounding, did he give up? You have to check. You creep to the door and peek out down the hallway towards the bedroom you’d been staying in, the door is open, and he is nowhere to be found, shit. 
No point in lingering, you have to make a move, or he will find you, quick and quiet feet carry you through the door and to the top of the stairs, your hand grips the railing, and you are about to start your descent when your periphery catches it, a flash of black fabric. Your heart seizes, and you swallow thickly, stomach dropping you don’t wait to confirm it, sure your mind might be playing tricks on you in your heightened state of terror, but why risk it? 
Down you go. 
You think that outside is best, try to make it down the dark beach under the cover of the night to the next beach house, ask for help, the robe you wore is white and not exactly the best for sneaking around, “Beggars can’t be choosers-” you muse as you pad down the hallway and towards the kitchen. You make your way through and were headed to the doors at the back leading out to the patio, so close, you’d be outside again and could hopefully make your escape. 
You have sincere hope. 
That same hope was short-lived. It died when the door swung open before you could reach it, when that same figure from earlier in that same outfit stepped inside. Tall and imposing, the air carried in from outside smelt like the beach usually does, salt tinges the air, you can hear the faint crash of the waves outside. The fragile and glass like pane of your now clearly false sense of security, that bubble of unearned cocky confidence that you could do this, get out, unscathed? It burst, popped, lays shattered at your feet that were currently trying to go backwards again. You don’t turn, try to back up as the one your eyes are locked on is advancing, the door had been closed, it’s too quiet, black boots on tile as he approaches, and you back up into something solid, firm, warm. Eyes look up, head tips back, a second figure, another mask, ah yes, of course. 
There are two of them, after all. 
No chance to move, hands settle slowly on your shoulders, a squeeze that is firm and felt through the plush material of the robe. The feeling of another hand on you makes your head snap back down, leather clad fingers trace down your chin and neck, “You did better than I thought you would. You mighta got away with it if it was just him, if I wasn’t outside watching, I saw your little stunt on the roof. Impressive honestly, real brave.”
His hand is moving lower, fingers dipping into the split in the front of your robe and something in you snaps, you don’t want to give in or give up yet, so you, once again, move. You pushed, both hands land on his chest, and you shove him backwards, the action is fast, it catches him off guard, perhaps he was a little too confident himself, assuming his accomplice having his hands on you would root you to the spot in fear alone. It is not enough, the other man’s grip was loose and with an elbow thrown back right after, catching him in the stomach you are off the second his hands slip away. 
You go to the left and try to pick up the pace as fast as you possibly can, you can still make it out of this intact, but you didn’t account for a few things. The floors are tile transitioning to hardwood, you are barefoot and sweating from fear and adrenaline, and how far they can reach, the minor moment it takes to recover after partially slipping is more than enough to give them the edge they require. 
You had made it a whole five pathetic steps before the hand is locked firmly onto your arm and yanking you back, hitting into the solid wall of his chest. You feel the touch of cool plastic from the mask he wore on the side of your face as he breathes out, “Aweee, too fucking bad.” 
The grip is unyielding as you are moved against your will, dragged towards the kitchen table, you struggle the whole way even though it is futile, helpless to the point it pulls a laugh out of them. 
“Such a try-hard!” Croons the one hauling you over hardwood, your toes barely skimming the smooth surface as you try to kick and wriggle away, “It’s adorable.” Calls the other, you can hear his smile behind the mask, following behind at a leisurely pace. 
Soon you are right in front of the table, and you are turned, ass pressed against the corner, there are hands-on your wrists, holding your hands behind your back, the grip painfully tight by the figure behind you. Yet you don’t give in, not bothered by the unusual angle of the edge of the table that between you and him. The table is heavy and thick wood, even the smallest part of it combined with his hands make your continued attempt once again laughable, no way you can have enough strength or leverage to budge the piece of furniture. You are still struggling, but the other one steps forward, his hands lock onto your shoulders. “Knock it off.”
Held by them, the multiple points of contact, the support of the table, you are thoroughly fucked. The bright flame of hope of escape inside of you dims, but the part of you that is acutely aware that this is a game, that under these masks are the men you know, one who you trust immensely, Stu, and the other his best friend Billy, and that thought? Instead, makes arousal spark in terrors place. You can truly allow yourself to feel everything, can give yourself over and into the game they set up.
“Seriously, you’ve lost. Accept it honey.” The last word is spoken with a particular spine-chilling bite that allows a tinge of fear to remain, you let it fuel the want further. 
You were just in this position. Your eyes flick over the few feet where you were bracketed by them both, totally boxed in, you had not been able to get away, no match for them. One hand is off your shoulder, the leather clad hand is gripping your face, it makes your eyes snap back to the mask staring you down. “Your eyes should always be on us, understood?”
Which one was this? You thought you’d be able to tell because of all your experience with Stu, but you really cannot nail it down, you are intimately familiar with Stu’s touch and his voice, but they sound different, not at all familiar. Not in a bad way, the voice they’ve adopted somehow is more than working for you, deeper, smooth yet still rough around the edges; the timbre of it resonates deep within, makes you think if pressed to bone it could vibrate you from the inside out, shake what makes you, you from your very body, separate spirit from flesh.
You’d have to ask later how they were doing it. 
Right now, you respond to what he said, a small nod as you confess, “I understand.”
“Good.” He all but purrs as his hand pats your cheek, condescendingly. 
“Ready for us to start having some real fun? Make that lame little conversation we had on the phone seem dull in comparison?” The one behind questioned and the one in front seemed all too enthusiastic. 
“God yes.” Came the response, “Watching her on the beach earlier was a total tease and I could barely get a good look at her in bed, I need to see this body up close.” 
No chance to react to the knowledge they were watching you on the beach, they probably were stalking you all fucking day without you even realizing it. Hands grip and your robe is pulled open and pushed down, your arms are locked to your sides by how the material bunches and sits, your tits fully out and on display. 
“Look at her.” Gloved hands are on you, touching you, palming your chest, groping, thumbs pass over your nipples lightly making you inhale a hair harder. You feel the mask on your bared shoulder, the assailant behind you also taking in the view and the slow, easy touches of leather encased fingers on delicate flesh.
“She’s not made of glass, you won’t break her.” The encouragement makes the treatment get rougher, a pinch of the sensitive peaks makes you tense momentarily from the jolt of pain. 
They take notice. Amusement is back as the one currently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers says, “Oh, we are gonna be a lot rougher than that, but, don’t worry, you can take it.” 
As if to punctuate what he said and prove he can make good on his promise, one hand abandons toying with you and smacks your breast. The pain is different, sharper, it gets a bigger reaction, you squirm, body bows, and he hits again, another rock of your body, another hit lands. You exhale sharply, and you can feel the energy between the pair, it’s light and giddy. 
“Can’t wait to see all the reactions we can pull outta her. Get her on the table.” 
“In a minute.” Calls the one behind you. He lets go of your wrists, confident you are too distracted to do much of anything in the midst of your tit torture session. He unties the robe’s belt around your waist and pulls it behind, using it to bind your wrists, he twists and twines it, wraps it around, knots it tightly, with the thick material still bunched around your elbows, your arms are effectively useless. 
“There.” The one behind says before he hooks his fingers in the expert knots and pulls hard, your back hits the table, your tied hands rest in the small of your back, your weight on top of them will make them fall asleep you are sure of it as you groan. Between them both, you are adjusted, your head is hanging off the edge of the table, legs half hanging off the other side. You are exposed totally now, the robe is barely on and has fallen to the sides, neck, chest, stomach and lower all bare.
One of the chairs next to your head is pulled out, leg raises, black boot on the seat of the chair in plain view of you, and you watch as the knife on the ankle holster is removed. The knife is large, you’ve seen it before, in a movie once, the name flashes through your mind, bowie sounds correct. 
His boot moves, swings down, connects with the floor again and in a swift movement you feel the edge of cold steel against your throat. Your eyes go wide, a harsh swallow and the knife is held closer, if you attempted this action again you are sure that your skin would break, and you would bleed, a frightfully exciting concept. 
“This here is what we like to call incentive.” He all but purrs and the one at the other end of the table, currently standing between your legs, pipes up, “That’s a big word, you might want to spell it out.” 
A shared laugh, “Good point.” The flat of the blade taps, and he expounds, “This is here to make sure that you do every filthy, fucked up thing that crosses our minds, understood?” 
You had no option but to comply, to play nice and play the part of the good pliant fuck doll. 
The next move couldn’t be clearer to you. Eyes flick up and meet his hidden behind that mask, you tilt your chin up, holding your head with confidence, leaning into the blade, not shying away, not fearful and asked, “What’s first?”
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archangeldyke-all · 11 months ago
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OMGOMG i love baby mommy sevika, but i keep thinking
. what would sevika be like with a kid who isn’t technically hers? like, reader had a child with someone else before even meeting sevika, and she always thought she hated kids and that it was a total dealbreaker for her, until she meets YOUR kid.
i can imagine the awkward first time meeting, tea parties in the living room while you’re making dinner, guarding that kid like her life depends on it when you all go out somewhere, letting them crawl into bed between the both of you when they have a nightmare :(( baby fever is a crazy thing fr.
AWEEEEE
men and minors dni
sevika's obsessed with you. it's pretty obvious.
she's always got her eyes glued to you from where you work behind the bar.
when you talk to her, she's always got a sweet little smile pulling up at the side of her lips as she listens, a sparkle in her eye each time she makes you laugh.
so, you aren't surprised when she asks you out.
you're just... a little hesitant.
"i'm sorry, forget i said anything, this was so stupid of me..." she sulks, turning away and rubbing the back of her neck. you squeak and reach over the bar, grabbing her wrist.
"i'd love to!" you say. she blinks in surprise. "it's just... i have a kid." you say. sevika blinks again.
"what?!" she asks. you laugh and nod.
"...yeah." you say. "i know you aren't really the 'kids' type, so... it's okay if you don't want to go out anymore." you say. sevika blinks again as she takes in the new information.
"since when?" she asks. you laugh.
"she's three and a half now." you say.
"what the fuck? why'd you never tell me?" she asks. you shrug.
"you're always talking about how you hate kids, i figured you wouldn't really be interested in hearing about mine."
"those are other kids, this one's yours! of course i wanna hear about her!" sevika shouts. you grin, then pull her across the bar to kiss her on the lips..
when you pull away, she's blushing.
for your first few dates, it's just you and sevika. you don't want to introduce your kid to anybody until you're certain they'll be around for a long time. she understands. and she absolutely loves spending some one-on-one time with you.
but, the more pictures of your kid you show her, the more stories you tell her about the little girl, the more sevika gets excited to meet her.
and then, about five or six dates in, sevika tells you she's in love with you. and your babysitter has a family emergency, and calls you half way through the date (while you're riding sevika, the both of you moaning 'i love you's against each other's lips) to tell you she's coming back to your apartment with your daughter in tow, and she'll be there in ten minutes.
you don't really get to prepare for any of it-- all you have time to do is pull your pants up and hide sevika's strap before your daughter is bursting through the door with a loud "ma! i'm home!"
at first, sevika's nervous as shit.
but you watch all her hesitation melt when your daughter lights up at the sight of a new friend in her home and starts lobbing her with question after question.
"what's your name!?"
"sevika."
"how old are you?"
"thirty eight."
"woah! that's so much older than me. i'm four!" she exclaims, waggling four fingers in sev's face. sevika chuckles.
"i thought you were still three."
your daughter groans. "i'm three and nine tenths, that's basically four!"
"you're right, i'm sorry." sevika says.
"what's your favorite color?"
"purple?" sevika guesses.
"me too!" your daughter gasps, clambering into sevika's lap. you cringe as you watch it happen, knowing how clammed up sevika gets when it comes to physical affection, especially from kids, but you're shocked when you watch sevika simply wrap an arm around her waist and help her adjust in her lap.
"what's your favorite animal?" sevika asks. your daughter grins.
"rhino!" she says. "it's like a unicorn and a dinosaur had a baby." she says.
"that's a good point." sevika says, smiling sweetly down at your daughter.
all your fears of the two of them meeting evaporate.
from that point on, the two of them are besties.
every time sevika comes over, she immediately searches for your daughter. when you've got her at the sitters, sevika pouts, complaining until you shut her up with kisses.
"i thought you hated kids." you complain one night as you watch sevika play dollhouse with your daughter. (she was supposed to be eating dinner with you on the couch while the two of you watched a movie.)
"yeah, 'cause most kids suck. you've got a real good one here, babe." sevika says, ruffling your daughter's hair, making her giggle.
sometimes, sev will come over to keep your rugrat occupied while you clean or cook or catch up on household chores. she's fucking amazing with her.
you've caught her with various clips in her hair and glitter on her eyes and lips as your daughter plays 'beauty salon' on her. sevika just grins and shrugs, then holds up her nails, all messily painted rainbow, for you to examine. "like my new look?" she asks. you snort.
"you might need some touch-ups, but you're really rocking those bobbles babe." you say, pointing to the little bobbles decorating the tiny ponytails in her hair.
sometimes, you'll catch them playing 'dinosaur', which is just sevika crawling around as your daughter straddles her back, cackling when sevika sits up on her knees and roars.
sevika quickly becomes your daughter's favorite person. when she doesn't come over, your girl pouts, asking you 'where your lady friend' is tonight.
and when she finally moves in with you, sevika becomes the designated 'storybook reader' at bedtime. apparently, she 'does the voices way better than you, ma.'
your daughter calls her 'babe'-- since it's what you're always calling her.
sevika's such a sucker for your girl, always sneaking her candies and eating her veggies off her plate for her, shooting her a wink each time.
and when you're out in public, sevika's always got your girl on her back, giving her a piggyback, and shooting nasty looks at anyone who does a double take at the sight of sevika toting around a squirming, laughing little girl.
one night, the two of you are curled in bed and sevika sighs.
"i never thought i'd love a kid like this." she says. you smile.
"you love her?" you ask. sevika nods.
"so much. it's insane. like... i'd die for the little shit in a heartbeat, y'know?" she asks. you grin and nod, pressing a kiss to her head.
"'s called being a mom." you say. sevika blushes, and you kiss her again.
over time, your girl starts calling sevika 'step-ma sev' or 'silly sevy' or, most commonly, 'stinky sev.'
sevika never complains about her, either. not once. not when she's on a sugar high and screaming while she runs laps around the house, not when she paints on the walls of your and sev's bedroom, not even when she interrupts you and sevika mid-sex to crawl in bed beside you, scared of the monster shaped shadows in her bedroom.
before she proposes to you, she asks your daughter for permission to join your little family. your little girl gives it gladly, but, her being five and all, accidentally ruins the surprise for you.
"'s sev' gonna propose to you when i'm there or is it just a special ma n' sevy thing?" she asks one morning as you're whipping up breakfast.
sevika freezes where she's pouring a glass of orange juice, and you burst into laughter.
"i dunno, baby, do you think you should be there?" you ask your kid. she nods.
"duh! i wanna see the fancy ring!" she says. you giggle.
"you wanna see a fancy ring huh?" you ask, ignoring sevika's stuttering beside you. "come with me." you say, waving your daughter to your bedroom.
when you return, sevika's still frozen in place, and your daughter is giddy with excitement, her hands behind her back.
"stinky sev!" she exclaims. sevika blinks down at her.
"y-yeah?" she asks, nervously.
your daughter thrusts the tiny velvet box in front of her, flipping open the lid, revealing the ring you'd picked out for sevika a few months ago.
"look what my ma got you!" she exclaims.
sevika blinks up at you with tears in her eyes and you shrug, gently taking the ring from your daughter's grip and sevika's hand in yours.
"you wanna be mine forever?" you ask. sevika blinks, tears quickly falling down her cheeks.
"you fucker, i wanted to do it first!" she complains.
"that's a dollar in the curse jar!" your kid exclaims. you both laugh.
"i should warn you before you say yes, though, i'm kinda a package deal with this brat." you say, ruffling your daughter's hair. she giggles.
"hey! i'm not a brat!" she exclaims. and then, when sevika laughs and swoops in to kiss you, "ewwwww!" she cries as she runs away.
sevika chuckles against your lips and you pull away with a smile.
"is that a yes?" you whisper. she nods, her voice too shaky for words.
from the living room your daughter calls for you. "did she say yes ma?"
"she said yes, babe." you call back.
"fuck yes!" she screams.
you and sevika both turn your heads to glare at her for the word.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki
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apomaro-mellow · 9 months ago
Text
I wanted to write church fucking again but it turned more into church love-making
Steve was long past caring if anyone heard them. The only thing on his mind was taking Eddie deeper and deeper. This place was built with Eddie's money anyway. And it wasn't really a building to practice any religion known to man. As Eddie had put it, the first and only thing being worshipped here was them and their love.
And to Steve there was honestly nothing more sacred.
-------------------
"Do we really need to do the separation thing?", Eddie asked. He didn't whine. He definitely wasn't whining as Steve packed his bag.
"We're only doing like 5 traditional things for our wedding and this is one of them", Steve said, zipping up a duffel bag.
He gave Eddie a kiss on the lips, one that was too short considering he wouldn't even be seeing him for another twenty-four hours, let alone kiss him again. He chased after Steve's lips only to have his beloved pull back.
"You're going to make me late. Robin's already honked once", Steve said.
"Mmm, she can come up and rip you from my arms if she wants you so bad", Eddie said, pulling Steve into his hold and falling back against the bed.
"You know she will. And she'll have the spray bottle and everything", Steve warned, but doing nothing to stop Eddie from groping his behind.
Steve was able to break away before Robin got pushed to that point and leave to stay at her place until the wedding. Eddie let out a sigh that was equal parts dreamy and forlorn. He did his best to keep his mind off of not being around Steve and his friends had the ultimate bachelor party planned. But he couldn't help but think at times how much nicer it would be with his Stevie there.
"Technically we're both bachelors, so we could've had the same party", Eddie reasoned.
The others wouldn't hear it and kept him sufficiently busy until they all passed out around 3 am. At 5 am, Eddie woke up walked over to the church. He took out his key and unlocked the door. Inside was completely empty. But Eddie had saw to the renovations himself to make sure it was up to par.
He sat in the first pew and let out a sigh. In just a few hours, he and Steve would be standing in front of this altar, vowing themselves to each other. Eddie would have done it anywhere, the courthouse, a friend's backyard, their sacred bedroom. But Steve's upbringing wouldn't allow him anything less than a church. Thankfully, Eddie had enough 'fuck-you' money to find an abandoned one and have it built back up just for the two of them. And perhaps any other queer that wanted an unofficial ceremony.
Eddie himself rarely looked to Jesus for answers and was just about to ask what he was even doing here when the doors opened again. And who should walk through it but the answers to any question he ever had.
"Eddie? What are you doing here?"
"Awaiting salvation. And here you are", Eddie smiled. "What are you doing here?"
"Searching for...well, for you, I guess", Steve said as he walked down the aisle and took a seat in the same pew as Eddie. But at a distance for polite friends and not two men who were getting married in a few hours and already knew each others bodies.
"Why are you all the way over there?", Eddie smirked. "You think we need a chaperone or something."
"I came to get a moment of peace and quiet before the storm today is going to be", Steve said. "And you are anything but peaceful and quiet."
"You just said you were searching for me?"
"I meant that sometimes searching for one thing can bring you another." Steve smiled as he shook his head a little, a memory coming back to him. "My mom always said 'when you ask God for patience, he doesn't give you patience. He gives you a situation where you need to be patient'."
"You sure your mom wasn't praying to a genie? Or a monkey's paw?"
"I'm just saying that I came to a church for peace and instead, I see my fiance."
Eddie scooted closer to Steve. "Sounds to me like His Mighty Heavenliness is throwing down a challenge. Can you be quiet around me Steve?"
Steve knew he couldn't. And Eddie knew he couldn't. Nor would his fiance's big ego even allow Steve to even attempt to be quiet. Eddie wouldn't stop until this place was filled with his echoes. But he held steady.
"There's not even a comfortable place to do it", he said.
To which, Eddie jumped up and went over to the altar, normally it would have a cloth draped over it, but when Eddie pressed down, there was a bit of give, like it was cushioned. Steve didn't even have the presence of mind to ask why because Eddie was already palming himself through his pants, beckoning Steve over with a finger.
Let it be known that marriage didn't stop Steve from being a slut. It was just reserved for his groom-to-be.
So he loved on Eddie and let Eddie love on him, in an embrace that felt more rapturous than any praise he'd given in a church. This was what ecstasy was. Steve knew deep in his soul that he was born for this, to share this with Eddie.
Hours later, dressed to the nines and promising themselves to each other in front of an audience, Steve couldn't stop thinking about his body draped over the altar. Eddie had said more than once that he worshipped Steve's body but the same was true for him. When Eddie slipped the ring onto his finger and kissed him, Steve felt like he was being smiled on by Heaven.
A man like this loving and promising eternity, how could be anything less than a blessing?
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preciouslandmermaid · 8 months ago
Text
I’m thinking about Amy Pond this morning and how Moffat didn’t give her any identity outside of The Doctor (and Rory).
Like series 5, we go through this whole thing where Amy “gets her parents back” and we literally NEVER see them again. And then Amy’s childhood friend, who we had never heard of, is revealed to be tied to the Doctor as well.
She’s shown to be a successful model during series 6, but that fact doesn’t go anywhere. We don’t see her friends. We don’t even know if she HAS friends.
River Song also has a similar problem—her story is intrinsically tied to the Doctor. And although Amy and River are technically mother and daughter, we don’t really get to see that, like does River come around and visit her parents when not traveling with the Doctor? What do they talk about ??
And on the note about children, iirc, Amy can’t (?) have any more children due to what her kidnappers did to her. But, on the same hand, it was never said that Amy wanted children or was upset that she missed out on the opportunity to raise Melody (it’s literally never mentioned again).
All the of NuWho companions, save for Martha, wanted to travel with the Doctor forever and ultimately their stories end in tragedy. I get that.
But then other companions, like Rose, Martha, and Donna - they all had people OUTSIDE the Doctor, which grounded them, tied to their humanity, to their earthly humanness.
I love Amy, but she is subjected to some poor writing choices. I know the viewers can fill in the blanks - we can assume she and Rory have lives outside traveling with the Doctor. But without seeing these people, it’s hard to connect when let’s say Earth is threatened. When the cyber men were trying to take over, Rose was concerned about her mum ! And we were too! Because we saw her mum and saw how much Rose loved her.
I know Amy’s arc ultimately ends with her “choosing Rory” (I guess because idk this wasn’t made clear when she married the guy idk).
But, consider this, consider how much more impactful her story would’ve been if she had like - I dunno - a sweet grandma who would tell her bedtime stories. The grandma gets some quips in about The Doctors fashion choices.
Rather than the Doctor realizing the Ponds are getting older (Amy’s glasses), it’s Amy realizing that her grandma is getting older, and the allure of traveling the stars is fading. She realizes that she wants to have her own child to tell stories to. And she wants her grandma to be alive to share in those stories. Hell, maybe she still finds a love for writing and becomes an author.
Amy makes the choice (much like Martha did) to leave the TARDIS. Rory comes too (I do think Moffat disliked Rory but that’s another topic). The Doctor is welcome to visit.
And when he does, he sees a slightly older Amy Pond, carrying a child that looks just like her, towards her grandmother in a wheelchair in the garden.
They let each other go. Unlike Rose and Ten who simply couldn’t let go because of the deep love they had for another.
The Doctor and Amy (or maybe it’s just Amy) have “grown up”. Amy has made a choice FOR HERSELF. After everything she’s seen, endured, all the trauma and suffering and grief - she creates her own happy ending.
It’s 8:00am right now - so who knows if this makes sense.
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