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gilverrwrites · 5 months ago

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Man, I need something with Jason's big hands, so big that one hand can cup your entire sex...

He will smack your clit, cup your sex, you'll grind on it and he will do something while cupping your lady bits.

I can live off of your body heat

Jason Todd/Reader, 2.4K

AN: I've actually had mutiple req for Jason and/or Dick slapping and pinching the readers clit which is like so specific, but I get it. Like I feel yall so much. I know Jay being a giant is fanon thing, but goddamn my 5'4 ass wants to be crushed by his hands so bad. CWs: Mentions of Jay's scars, swearing, size difference, Dom!Jay, teasing, Jay being really rough, nipple play, clit pinching, clit slapping. Petnames: Baby, babe, babygirl, good girl, Name-calling: Filthy girl, bitch, slut. Recommended listening: Body Heat - Kate Nash

There’s a scar on his chest. Actually, there are many scars on his chest. However, there’s one in particular that stands out; a long taut piece of skin that stretches from his left shoulder blade, right down to his sternum. Its pale sheen stands out against his tan skin and begs you to trail a finger along it.

Despite the temptation, you don’t.

Jason hasn’t slept this well in weeks so you daren't risk waking him yet. Instead, you watch the gentle rise and fall of his torso under the mellow light of the morning sun until the need to move is too great.

Your feet have barely touched the ground when a pair of sturdy arms close around you, enveloping you in the warmth of the very body you’d just been admiring and pulling you back into the bed. Or more, pulling you on top of his body, primarily by his choice, partially because there isn’t enough room for you both to lay without some overlap. Every time you mention buying a larger bed, Jason vetoes it; says he likes the close proximity. That feeling your body against his helps him to relax and you can’t really argue with that sentiment.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” He asks from the spot in the crook of your neck he loves to nuzzle into. He peppers the side of your neck with sleepy half-kisses.

It would be endearing, were his hands not already under the oversized Red Hood tee you’d stolen from him to sleep in.

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hum, hands wrapping around his wrists, purely for additional skin-on-skin contact. You couldn’t stop him from ghosting his calloused fingertips up your body if you wanted to. It’s strange, and arousing to think that he can, and has trapped both of your wrists in with just one hand.

“You don't know?” He’s rousing properly now, amused by your answer.

“Probably just to shower, make a coffee, maybe read a book until you wake up.”

“I’m awake now.” He reminds you, rolling his hips to emphasise his double entendre. The heat of his mourning wood grinds against your backside, and at the same time, one of his wandering hands finally settles on a target. He cups the underside of your breast, and you can’t help sucking in a breath as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already so brutal, despite the slow, sensual way he’s been exploring until now.

You sigh in relief when he lets go, allowing just enough time for the blood to rush back before he clamps down again, this time in a twisting motion that has your hands shooting up into his hair. “Jay!”

He seems unaffected by your attack on his scalp, chuckling into the tender spot behind your ear, and causing a chill to run down your spine. “Yeah, baby?”

“You should be asleep.” You’d intended to deadpan for comedic effect, but it comes out in short, strained breaths that only serve to make you sound needy as hell.

It’s at this point you hear a snapping sound, followed by the light sting of your underwear’s elastic waist snapping against your skin, drawing your attention downwards just in time to feel Jason cupping your entire sex in just one of his hands. All the while he never stops the assault on your now raw tits.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions. At the same time, he palms your folds through the fabric of your underwear, pressing the ball of it against your increasingly aching clit.

“Feels nice.” You sigh, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, allowing him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck which he eagerly accepts, honing in to suck and nibble, sloppily leaving marks in his wake. You don’t want to back down, but God, you do not want him to stop.

“Come on baby, I need a real answer. Do you want me to go back to sleep?” He eventually circles back, lips barely leaving your flesh as he speaks. Distracting you from the erotic sting of your nipples and the heat between your legs as his rugged fingers push all the right buttons. “Or do you want me to keep playing with your cute little pussy?”

“Fuck, Jay please- “ You’re ready to give in but as you speak he hooks two fingers under the crotch of your underwear, and the resulting, embarrassingly wet squelch that sounds out as he presses them between your folds has you hissing.

“Please what?” He goads, now upping the pressure. He’s doing it on purpose, cause he’s a fucking tease. “Please stop?”

“No! Please don’t stop touching my cunt!”

“Your cunt? You’re fucking filthy, girl. You know that?” He plants a quick, hard kiss on your cheek and, as if you weigh nothing, lifts you by your pussy, repositioning you for his own ease until your legs are stretched wide, his own wedged in between to keep you in place. The speed at which he moves is enough to give you whiplash. You barely have enough time to gasp at the retraction of his hands before they’re on you again, settling in new positions. With one hand he completely pulls aside your panties, exposing your hot, soaked folds to the tepid air. The other pulls your tee over your head before cupping the back of your head, forcing your gaze downwards. “Don’t move. I want you to watch everything I do to you. Can you do that for me, baby”

Shit. You think your heart might beat out of your chest. All this vehement energy so early in the morning. “Yes, Jay!”

Immediately contradicting yourself, you turn your head to admire his handsome profile. The determined squint of his eyes, the bed head, the morning stubble, you really lucked out with him you think as you lean closer to kiss his cheek. Before you can make contact Jay's grip tightens on the back of your head, sharply turning you back to watch as he dips two long fingers between your slit. Your clit practically twitches at the sight of them; long enough to span from top to entrance in excess.

You try your hardest to watch as he repeatedly strokes your lips in short, lazy motions but it’s a challenge not to close your eyes and get lost in the moment. It’s even harder not to throw your head back and scream when he suddenly sinks his fingers around your clit and starts pinching, it. Tightly rolling the sensitive bud between two curled fingers.

“Shit, Jay.” You pant through gritted teeth. “That hurts so good.”

Just like with your nipples, what feels even better is the rapid return of blood flow when he releases it. He repeats the process twice over, laughing every time you flinch or whine. Whispering in your ear about how you’re his “good girl”, how “you can take it” every time you dig your nails into his arm in an attempt to relieve the pain.

“Help me out here babe. Spread your pussy out for me.” He instructs, playfully gasping into your ear when you pull back your lips to reveal your now dark and swollen core. You’re too turned on to care about the sight of it. Happy to expose yourself, certain that the moment he starts kneading you with care, you’ll cum in seconds.

Jason must be thinking the same as he dips one finger into your entrance, just enough to coat it with your arousal before returning to your puffy clit to rub around it in circles. Even at twice the size, your clit is smaller than the tip of his finger.

“Ohh, I’m gonna cum soon.” Before you’ve even finished your sentence Jay retracts his hand, ripping a distraught weep from you in the process. You’ve been here a hundred times before, splayed out for him, gasping, and begging for his touch, but the red-hot shame at your flagrant desperation never eases. “What the fuck, dude!?”

“Dude?” Without warning, Jay comes back down. Hard. Your whole body shakes under the intensity of the vicious slap he delivers to your clit. “Who the fuck are you calling dude?”

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he smacks your open folds again. Flipping the switch in your body from heady to adrenaline-filled arousal.

“Say my name.” He barks as he dispenses a third slap.

“Jay!” You don’t have it in you to say his full name, but it seems to satisfy.

“Say it louder.” His words are punctuated by the lewd echo of sharp, stinging strikes. “I want the neighbours to hear what a dirty fucking slut you are. Want them to know who you belong to.”

“Jason. You Jason!” You close your eyes and throw your head back, crying with everything you can muster, not caring how raunchy or pathetic you sound. Ignoring the pain of your own nails digging into your flesh. “Jason. I’m yours, Jason.”

“That's better.” He growls. Finally, his arm falls slack. With no friction from your dripping, wanting walls, Jason glides two fingers into your entrance and you tremble, your whole body tingling, ecstatic to finally feel him inside you. It’s just two fingers, two impressively strong, thick fingers that make you feel so full. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Abashed by his sudden gentleness you open your eyes once more, positioning yourself to look at him as best you can. He’s one to talk. You’re always telling him he could be a model if he decided to quit being a part-time crime lord, part-time crime fighter.

You’re unable to concentrate on him for long, however, as he starts pumping in and out of you in torturously slow thrusts. After all the excitement, it quietens your mind and eases your muscles. For the first time since he’d repositioned your bodies, you notice the pressure of his cock, pulsing against your lower back. The rigged hardness of it makes you feel fuzzy and content at his equal levels of arousal.

You stay like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying the calm as Jason gently massages your insides until it’s not enough. You need more, your body yearns, your core practically twitching for his touch on your clit again. An orgasm is approaching steadily, but you’ll get nowhere without it.

The heel of his hand is so close, so sturdy, you don’t even think about what you’re doing, you just start undulating your hips, rutting up against him in unstable motions. He doesn’t stop you; in fact he curls his fingers and brings his palm down closer, letting you use him to chase your orgasm.

“That's it, baby. Hump me like a bitch in heat.” He coos so softly in your ear that it would set your pulse racing if it wasn’t already running at a mile a minute. “Remember I'm the only who does this for you, the only one who can make you feel so full and cock drunk on just my hands.”

He's right, he's so fucking right.

“Keep that up, I might just cum too.”

“Fuck me.” You breathe, affected both by his words and the reminder of his throbbing dick squeezed between your bodies.

“Not until you cum on my fingers.” He’s only half joking. “Can you do that for me baby, cum all over my finger like a good little slut?”

Fuck yes, you can. You want to say, but all your energy is focused on riding his hand, fucking yourself on his brawny fingers, and gyrating against his palm like it's your job. His groans and rasps become a motivational mantra as you keep bucking your hips.

“You’re nearly there.” He comments, able to feel your walls tightening around his digits, convulsing uncontrollably as it hits you. It takes all your strength to ride it out; to keep going as you topple over the edge but fuck it’s worth it for the full extent of your release. “That it babygirl, cum for me baby, fucking soak me.”

Worth it for the explicit sound of your wet cum streaming against Jason’s hands, for the rush of ecstasy that bleeds through your body, and especially for the unexpected heat that spreads across your lower back in spaced-out intervals; Jason's own ejaculation seeping through his boxers and dispersing on your skin.

Simultaneously, you both grow limp, breathing in time with each other until the rapid movements of your chests begin to ebb back to a steady pace.

“You were so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” Jason praises as he rolls your bodies onto their sides, never releasing you in the process, but allowing him a better ability to press a smattering of kisses to the side of your head, lingering along your jawline. You're grateful for his sweet words, but still too fucked-out to speak, but you coo when he lifts a hand to run his thumb along your neck, presumably checking out his earlier handy work. You arch to get a better look at him, and given the subtle, but smug smile on his face, you’re certain he’s left quite the mark.

“Let me guess.” You find your voice. “It’s not just the neighbours who’ll know who I belong to?”

“Hmmmm.” He tilts his head and puckers his lips in mock consideration. “I think you should donate all your scarf.”

“Jay!” You punch his shoulder, and he has enough decency to play along, briefly leaning back as though you could even make a dent on his towering frame. “Is it really bad?”

“No. No no no.” He’s lying through his teeth, snickering as he leans in to crush your lips with his own. His skin is slick with sweat you realise when you reach up to gently grasp his other shoulder and guide him closer to you. His morning breath is frankly kind of gross, but yours probably is too. Nevertheless, it’s a price you’re willing to pay for his affection.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks when he pulls back from your mouth, continuing to press kisses down your neck, along your collar, and slinking closer to your chest with each brush. He asks some variation of this same question everytime you fuck. Letting you direct how much you can take from him in one go or what kind of aftercare you need.

“I don’t know.” You hum, imitating your earlier indecision, as you stretch against the mattress. “Shower, coffee, and a book still sounds good to me.”

“Sounds very good. Mind if I join?” He’s not actually asking, that much is evident as he lifts you in his arms and cradles you against his chest as he stands. You’ll both be grateful to get your sticky, cum soaked underwear off. You’ll be even more grateful for the chance to lather and massage your boyfriend up in soapy bubbles, to really get your fingers on those pretty scars that call to you. Maybe you can convince him to take a nap later when you’re curled up on the couch, reading together.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Jay.”

#gilverrwrites #anon #dc #reader insert #jason todd #jason todd/reader #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood/reader #x reader #f reader #/reader #imagine #divider by @anitalenia #1k

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valeriianz · 3 days ago

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Mega Popstar Dream and Hob, his extremely non-famous celebrity crush: THE FIC!

for @cuubism! based on this incredible post! Sorry it took me like, 6 months to write :') 5k later, here we are!

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“Alright, plans for today…” Lucienne plops down on the sofa across from Dream, a tablet in her hand and a cup of tea waiting for her on the coffee table.

Dream is still in his sleep clothes; the pants of a mulberry silk, midnight black pyjama set, forgoing the matching long sleeve buttoned top for nothing but his favourite cashmere cardigan that is a size too big on him, draping over his shoulders elegantly and hanging open to reveal his bare, hair-free chest. He’s curled up on the corner of the couch with an old acoustic guitar in his hands, idly strumming away while a notebook sits waiting for him by his side.

Matthew, one of his trusted publicists, would sarcastically quip about how “work never stops,” but it’s more like “inspiration never stops.” Words and melodies are constantly floating around in Dream’s head, and if he doesn’t at least have a pen and paper with him at all times, they will drift away as soon as they come.

Dream listens as Lucienne goes over their itinerary. Awards season is upon them and these days a lot of Dream’s time is spent in appointments with designers and agents for campaigns and endorsements, even media training, still, at Dream’s level in his career. He still has the occasional gaff when speaking in anything that isn’t a practised interview. And, although Dream has gotten better at red carpet events, where a microphone is spontaneously shoved in his face, that coupled with all the flashing lights and overlapping chatter has made him dissociate more than a few times.

Dream nods along when Lucienne pauses to make sure he’s paying attention. He is. And she knows his quirks by now; that he needs to be constantly moving when taking in information. His fingers fluttering along the neck of the guitar, producing quiet blooms of sound that quickly fade away in the space between them.

“And then after lunch is the YouTube appearance…”

Dream stops playing.

“The what?”

Lucienne looks up at him over her coke-bottle glasses.

“The interview with Centuries, the up-and-coming YouTube channel. We discussed it back in August.”

Right, Dream vaguely remembers the name. He doesn’t watch much YouTube… unless it’s interviews or clip compilations of Robert Gadling from his TV show, Prophecy. He’d be more ashamed of his search history if everyone on his team didn’t already know about his absurd crush.

Dream merely nods, trusting Lucienne and his team by now to handle trivial things like interviews or guest appearances. If he had needed to do any modicum of research beforehand, he would have by now.

But now Dream’s imagination starts to wander, thinking about the video he’d watched before going to bed last night, his phone clutched in his hand while he took in a behind the scenes feature of the stars of Prophecy going through their period typical wardrobe and makeup, replaying Robert Gadling’s part over and over again. The way the hairdresser had combed her fingers through Robert’s hair, pulling it back to reveal his forehead and bushy eyebrows, expressive as ever, lifted up as he smiled widely in the mirror, the skin around his eyes crinkling with it.

Or the set’s costume designer taking Robert’s measurements, revealing the man in a thin white henley and boxer briefs, the camera only panning down for a moment to capture his tan, corded thighs just thick with hair and taking Dream’s breath away, squirming under the sheets of his too-big California king-sized bed.

It was bad… Dream’s infatuation with Robert. His team had been worried at first, knowing the gossip columnists loved it when Dream got into a new relationship, shamelessly publishing questions of how long this one will last? And going down the timeline of Dream’s past lovers, all heat and passion at first, before inevitably getting snuffed out by their own intensity.

Despite Dream’s track record– or maybe because of it– many people, male and female, had tried to capture the performer’s attention. Willing to endure the heartbreak at the end because, as nearly all Dream’s partners had attested to, Dream was an excellent lover. And perhaps, to them, the high was worth the pain.

But Dream had set himself on a firm break from romance. His heart couldn’t take it, so instead he pined, though not from afar. If media outlets were to take him seriously, they’d have a real story to invest in.

Perhaps newsmongers thought it was a joke, the way Dream was so candid about his interest in Robert. In past affairs, the public would just suddenly see Dream cozied up with a new paramour– no need to speculate when Dream would always just go for it.

Dream is surprised, too. His listeners are usually so quick to judge Dream’s suitors and even his relationships. Perhaps it is because Robert Gadling is barely a celebrity, in the eyes of Hollywood.

Prophecy is a BBC program, one of those low budget, historical dramas where romance doesn’t propel the plot, so unfortunately the series hadn’t garnered much success. Which Dream was boarderlined annoyed by. The writing was fantastic, the acting– superb. And Robert Gadling specifically…

If Dream’s staff noticed how often his mind would wander into daydreams, a woebegone sigh escaping his lips, they didn’t say anything. Leaving Dream to write vague love songs that his fans speculated which ex it was about.

Despite his maddening crush on Robert Gadling, Dream refused to act on it. Not only because he was on a self-imposed break, but he truly was so terrified of rejection. Or worse, dating Robert and having things fizzle out, like they always did.

Dream knew he wouldn’t survive it if Robert and him were to ever cross paths. So he made sure to steer clear of any events where they might overlap, even going so far as to inform his staff to keep their distance.

Hiring a friend like Lucienne to be Dream’s manager had one downfall though; she knew him better than himself at times. And she was devious.

-----------------------------------------------------

Hob tugs on his ear as he sits in a chair at the table that’s been set up for his surprise meeting with Dream. The crew is still hovering– even after bustling around and getting everything set up.

It’s not that Hob is regretting this… but it is starting to feel awkward, waiting for Dream to arrive, to surprise him. What if the show’s producers were wrong? What if Dream took one look at Hob and turned right back around?

Though Hob had done some research of his own, after his agent had called him and offered the opportunity to him. Because that’s what this was… an offer— a favour, of sorts. He was barely getting paid for his time here, this was basically just for fun, and “exposure,” a word YouTubers loved throwing around.

He’d heard of Dream, obviously, despite Hob’s lack of social media and smartphone. You’d have to be living underground to not have heard of Dream, the mega rock-star phenomenon that had risen to fame a short five years ago and was only getting more and more popular, especially as he began adding pop elements into his music.

Hob wouldn’t call himself a fan though. He knows the hits that played on endless repeat on the radio, what he hears in coffee shops and what his co-workers talk about. Hob doesn’t dislike the music, it’s very catchy and he can clearly hear why Dream is so popular. He is one of the few currently dominating the charts because he has actual talent. Dream writes and composes his own music and isn’t tied down by a label (anymore), it’s incredibly impressive.

Hob took the time to get into his music before this meeting. Dream’s lyrics are truly stunning, his arrangements unique and reflective of the words he would croon into the mic. Interestingly, Hob found himself enjoying the more dismissive tracks on Dream’s albums, the songs that weren’t mainstream, especially from his early records.

Hob took on the task of learning more about Dream like he would going into a new role. He liked falling into wormholes about a trade or language he had to learn, and he always put 100% of himself into anything he did. So it was inevitable that he would wind up discovering more and more things about Dream than he had originally intended. Becoming more and more interested and, unexpectedly, attached.

While he had been knee-deep in his music, Hob also watched plenty of interviews with Dream, finding the man to be more withdrawn and selective with his words. He was allusive and coy, and extremely awkward. Watching the way he would interact with TV hosts or answer random questions at red carpet events became endearing. When Dream was caught by surprise, this little lopsided smile would creep out and he would stammer over his words.

It was endearing, and surprisingly… cute.

Hob only had about a day to question if Dream really had a crush on him, like the producers of the show claimed. It didn’t take long before Hob found a late night interview with Dream where the host had pivoted to TV shows and casually asked Dream what he was currently watching.

Dream’s eyes lit up. He shifted to be more on the edge of his chair, and even leaned forward a bit.

“Prophecy.” Dream had said with full emphasis on every letter. “You watch it too, yes?”

“It is growing on me.” The host had admitted, similarly struck dumb by Dream’s entire switch in demeanour.

And Dream goes on a tirade about how good the show is, the story, the set design, the costumes. How he’s not an actor, has never been on a TV or film set, but he can see all the detail and love and hard work poured into the show and is admittedly obsessed with it.

“And Robert Gadling…” Hob’s heart had leapt in his throat at the way Dream nearly moaned out his full name. “... he’s just so… passionate in his work. His face is so expressive and it’s like he becomes Ser Gideon.”

“Big fan, then?” The host smirked conspiratorially.

“Oh yes,” Dream admitted, crossing his legs and lolling his head to one side, getting comfortable. “I discovered him while watching Prophecy, and fell down a rabbit hole of his previous work. He mostly does stage, you know. And I’ve always admired live art, the theatre. And God– he does it so splendidly. He acts with his entire body and it’s just–”

“Sounds like you have a bit of a crush.” The host cuts in, his smirk sharpening as Dream throws a glare at him for interrupting.

But then Dream smiles, a tiny thing at the corner of his mouth and his eyes fall. The crowd erupts into a chorus of cheers, goading Dream on and encouraging his embarrassment.

“Well,” Dream pulls his head up, resting it in the palm of his hand. “He’s very dashing, wouldn’t you say?”

Dream’s fingers on his other hand drum along his knee, his gaze gone wistful and distracted. It’s adorable, and maybe could be seen as an act, if not for the answer he gives the host after the next question.

“Have you ever told him of this? I’m sure Robert would be very flattered to hear he has such a notable fan.”

“Oh no. I could never,” Dream withdraws slightly. “If I were to ever see his face in person I’d probably die.”

The audience laughs good-naturedly but Dream has a pretty pink flush spreading up his neck now.

It’s all downhill from there, Hob discovers. Apparently that had been the first time Dream had admitted to his little crush on Hob and after that, the subject would be brought up again and again, sporadically throughout the course of (if the timestamps on the YouTube videos could be believed) over a year.

Over a year of the very famous Dream proclaiming openly his very serious attraction to Robert Gadling and Hob had somehow never known of this.

Until the day his agent called him, a couple months ago, and asked if he wanted to be on this show. The gimmick was– typically– people (read: fans) meeting their celebrity crush. But for this new season, Centuries had a twist: celebrities meeting their celebrity crush.

Hob had no idea what to wear. For Dream it would be a surprise, unless his agent instructed him to dress a certain way, Hob could only assume the man would show up in casual attire. So that’s how Hob opted to present himself. He wore a forest green jumper, the sleeves pushed up in the warm cafe, and a pair of simple blue jeans. His hair had gotten pretty long, at the director’s request for the next season of Prophecy, so he’d pulled that up into a small bun that struggled to stay in place. He opted to put in his contacts, though Hob was starting to regret it, wanting something to fidget; his hand kept unconsciously lifting to touch frames that he wasn’t wearing.

Hob tried not to think too hard about his look today. He knew Dream (shockingly, unbelievably) liked him, but for some reason didn’t want him to be disappointed in what he saw. What if Dream took one look at him and realised Hob wasn’t what he thought? What if the real thing didn’t compare to whatever Dream was making up in his mind? And why did Hob care at all?

Perhaps, because… Dream was. Well. Dream.

Hob wasn’t blind. Dream was beautiful. Hob was sure the lavish lifestyle Dream undoubtedly lived in helped, what with top of the line skin care products and a dietician to make sure he stayed healthy and youthful. Whatever other products Dream used in his hair, on his straight, perfectly white teeth, even down to his nails– clean and pretty, cuticles invisible, usually covered in varnish that matched with whatever expensive outfit he was wearing that day.

And Hob. Well.

Hob wasn’t shy, he knew he was conventionally attractive, the attention he used to get even before his appearance in television clued him in on that. But nothing about him really stood out. Just another face in the crowd. He didn’t have any outstanding features, no connections in the industry, he was a very private person who… sometimes regretted accepting his role in Prophecy. Into Hollywood.

Hob didn’t have social media. It’s something his manager had admonished him about, early on in his career. It would help connect with his fan base, his manager had said. Would be good for connecting with others in the industry as well, and building a social media following was just something everyone did. But Hob had refused. He’d always been a private person, even before he started acting. It was the one thing he refused to give up: his confidentiality.

How could someone like Dream, who had limitless options, countless people fawning over him, find Hob in a sea of faces and latch on like he did? How was he able to know so much about him, when Hob had been so careful to not stand out? It was enough to make Hob skeptical, flattered– a swarm of contradictions but mostly… curious. Hob was so curious.

It was his best and worst trait.

The entire coffee shop, a locally owned one that perhaps was easiest to rent out for a couple hours, is barren of customers, only the crew of the YouTube show present as well as Hob’s small entourage and several of Dream’s agents, as well as a few of the cafe’s staff, patiently waiting behind the counter.

It’s a little awkward, to say the least.

After Hob has drained his second glass of water and traced every grain on the table’s surface, someone announces that Dream is finally arriving and it’s like a switch is flipped in the room. Everyone either goes ramrod straight, or twitchy with nerves. It’s enough to break the tension in Hob, replaced by amusement, momentarily distracted and wondering if he’d ever cause such a reaction just by the sound of his name.

And now Hob, for his part, doesn’t know what to do.

The producers had informed him to just act natural, be himself, that this was essentially a blind date. But calling it a “date” only made Hob sweat. This definitely was not a date. He looked around at the camera’s pointed at him and at the door, a little red light on them blinking to indicate that they were recording. Hob sighed, slouching a little in his seat and taking steady breaths in through his nose and out his mouth, his hand out on the table’s surface and drumming his fingers. Christ, there wasn’t even music playing, all was quiet in the room.

At last, the front door to the cafe opens with a jaunty ring of a bell and Dream steps through. He halts as soon as the door swings shut behind him though, his gaze imperceptible behind a pair of dark Ray-Ban shades, but his head swivels around, visibly confused before a woman out of sight of the cameras (Lucienne, she had introduced herself as, Dream’s manager), catches his attention and nods with a smile.

Why is everyone so quiet? Hob bites his lip, he’s bursting to say something, even a simple hello, but had been told to remain silent until Dream initiated contact. But Dream is clearly uncomfortable, stepping cautiously, like a cat in unknown territory.

“What’s this?” Dream speaks, mostly toward Lucienne. His voice sends a pleasant shudder up Hob’s spine, despite how caution colors his tone. It’s a lovely voice. Smooth like chocolate, clear and deep, commanding attention. Hob had heard it countless times through his headphones, singing or giving an interview, but the full force of it in person made Hob’s heart jumpstart in his chest.

And he’d only spoken two words.

Hob is tucked away into a corner table, next to a window with a deep burgundy curtain drawn over it. It’s perhaps why Dream only spots him only once he’s fully in the center of the room, his head turning and his entire posture freezing up.

It’s a little silly, to see how Dream still hasn’t taken off the sunglasses, but even more so that Hob is somehow able to tell that Dream’s gaze has found him, draped over him like a physical thing.

Hob waves, putting on an easy smile, afraid to spook the man further. He also– fuck these producers– speaks first.

“Hello,” Hob swallows his nerves, keeping his voice soft. “Would you, ah– would you like to sit?”

Hob gestures to the empty seat across from him.

It takes a moment, and Hob’s smile grows as Dream just continues to stare. He’s suddenly grateful for the shades, certain that if he had to experience the full force of those eyes on him, Hob would be just as– if not more– nervous than Dream.

And it’s the obvious fact that Dream is nervous that somehow manages to calm Hob down a little. It’s also doing wonders for his ego, if he’s being completely honest with himself.

Dream swallows, and the movement catches Hob’s attention, watching how his throat moves and the way the snow white skin there begins to flush a pretty pink.

Cute.

Dream at last takes a step forward, then another. His focus zeroed in on Hob, which kicks up Hob’s calming heartrate, his breath coming out in shorter intervals because– fuck. Dream is dressed to kill.

A fitted black jacket with narrow labels, open and revealing a black, smoky, intricately woven sheer top with subtle ruffles that drape down the collar like a scarf. He’s wearing a silver watch on one wrist and a mess of silver bracelets on the other. The pants match the jacket and they go on for miles. Hob licks his lips as he feels his mouth drying. The black boots Dream wears reveal a red outsole, the flash of color barely perceptible with every step.

Dream’s lips part, expression otherwise unreadable, when suddenly he walks full on into the back of a chair.

The sound of the collision is like a balloon popping in the quiet room. His hands fly up to grab the chair, steadying it but his legs continue on, stumbling and causing the chair to scrape loudly on the hardwood floor. Hob makes to stand and help, just as Dream topples forward, one hand attempting to latch onto the table for support and taking that down as well in a noisy crash.

Hob vaults upwards just as the room tenses around them, frozen with uncertainty, and a camera comes in close. Hob barely perceives it, wanting nothing more than to shove the man operating it away, but his focus is on Dream, laying in a heap on the floor among the table and chair.

He hears some muffled jittering and sends a glare up in the general direction, catching Lucienne’s worried expression– she’s taken a few steps forward as well– along the way.

Hob collapses to his knees at Dream’s head just as the camera arrives and Hob can’t stop himself from waving the man away, shooting him a disgusted look, before looking to Dream again.

“Hey, you okay? Anything hurt?”

Hob’s hands spread out uselessly, wondering if it was okay for him to touch Dream. His glasses are askew and he’s lolled his head to the side, nearly knocking them completely off. Hob could see his eyes squeezed shut, his ears beet red.

“Just my pride,” came a small, miserable response.

Hob smiled, huffing a short laugh as he chanced to reach out and gently swipe his fingers over the top of Dream’s head, pulling hair out of his face.

Dream’s eyes open and peek sideways. Hob, again, felt his breath catch. Blue. Like the clear ocean, glinting from the sun’s rays. Or like gemstones– sapphire, sharp and bright. Wow.

“Wow…” Hob hears himself speak and blushes, heat spreading up his neck.

Dream’s eyes widened, turning to flop on his back and letting those expensive shades fall from his face and Hob was struck by the full force of those blue eyes.

They’re just as captivating as he’d imagined, even more so, up close and in person.

Hob almost forgets they are surrounded by a camera crew, almost lets himself touch Dream again, imagines putting his hands on either side of his face, just to feel how warm his skin must be, tinged pink. It’s so endearing… and such an attractive look on him, only making the blue of his eyes pop so much more.

But at that moment someone coughs politely and Hob comes back to reality, blinking and clearing his throat. The sound startles Dream, who flinches, still on the floor, and looks side to side.

Hob helps him up, slowly, his nerves singing as Dream’s hand lingers in his as he manages to stand to his full height. There’s a moment of corporeality where Lucienne finally approaches Dream, as well as someone else on his staff, double checking that he’s in fact, okay.

Dream nods and mumbles something to them, his gaze continuing to swing over to Hob, as if checking that he’s still there.

The irritation and distrust that Dream carried on his shoulders when he’d entered the room have vanished, replaced by awkward tension and acceptance. He’s still obviously embarrassed by what happened, his hand rubbing the back of his neck and his lips pulled in to form a thin line, eyes focused as he’s mic’d up, understanding now what kind of position he’d been forced into.

Well, maybe not forced. He looks at Hob again, who’s taken his seat again at the table. Not forced, tricked maybe. Dream probably thought this was an interview of some sort, there must’ve been a reason he was dressed up so well.

Eventually, Dream sits with him, drinks are brought to them (a coffee for Hob and a tea latte for Dream), and they take a moment to sip the hot beverages.

It’s good coffee, at least. Hob looks into his drink as he sets the mug down, thumbing over the lip of the ceramic cup. He lifts his lashes to watch Dream, who’s also studying his drink, dunking the tea bag over and over again in the liquid.

Hob nibbles on his bottom lip, his fingers now tapping on the mug, his brain sifting through a thousand ice breakers, a thousand things to say, before sighing and leaning back as casually as he can.

“I know you didn’t plan this” Hob starts, falling back on an old charm he hopes will break the tension. “But this is the strangest way to get a man’s attention.”

Dream snorts into his drink and Hob laughs as it sprays foam over the table’s surface.

Hob wipes the mess with a napkin while Dream hides his mouth behind his hand, flustered all over again. Hob smiles. This Dream is so unlike how the man presents himself in public. Poised, professional, god-like. Dream wielded his star power well, it commanded attention and intimidation, only faltering enough to garner his loyal fanbase, to give himself human qualities that listeners could connect with and fawn over.

Like the rambling during red carpet interviews. Or talking about Robert Gadling… talking about him.

But Hob had never seen… this. The stumbling, the blushing, the insecurity. It made something warm and incredibly fond well up in his chest.

Dream finally collects himself, taking a breath and dropping his hand back to fiddle with the handle of his cup.

“What about your attention?” Dream tilts his head to one side, eyes gone playful but still with a hint of nerves behind them, uncertainty.

Hob’s smile hesitates before he laughs softly, shaking his head in delight.

He had not anticipated that Dream would flirt.

“I think all you had to do was look at me,” Hob murmured softly, ducking his head a little, letting himself be honest because– how could he not?

Dream’s lips parted, his face gone lax.

And that pretty blush crawling up his neck again, making Dream drop his head slightly, a tiny, shy smile peeking through, making something take hold of Hob’s heart and give it a squeeze.

“You can’t just say that.”

“I’m not. Just saying it.” He wants to say more, actually. Hob gets it now. He gets it. Why Dream has half of the fucking world at his feet.

Suddenly, Hob wishes he was the only one. The only person to worship Dream, to know his smiles and his voice, how easy it was to make him blush and stammer.

Hob takes a long breath and realizes, oh God, I’m gonna fall in love, aren’t I?

Dream nearly squirms in his seat, meeting Hob’s gaze again like he can’t help it. Like he’s amazed Hob’s here at all, before he blinks and casts his gaze to the side, at the large handful of people in the dining room. Hob looks too– just a quick glance. He’d forgotten for a moment there that they had an audience.

So Hob hums thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on his cup before propping an elbow up on the table and resting his chin in his palm.

“So,” Hob grabs Dream’s attention, thinking it best to divert the conversation… for the moment. “... when did you know you wanted to become a singer?”

They relax again as the conversation turns casual. They share their history, from childhood to now. Dream admits he never entertained the idea that he could perform professionally… he liked to sing and play at open mic nights, but the idea of fame scared him. But it was all he knew how to do, he said. Play guitar and write poetry.

Hob shares that sentiment, but with acting. He’d loved the stage and figured he’d be happy doing that forever. Auditioning for a small part in a film was just for fun, and then it’d snowballed from there. Prophecy was his first major role, but already he was making headway, catching attention (mostly because he was so private) and rejecting offers from other major studios. Hob did enjoy acting in front of a camera, it was fun, in a different way. But for now he wanted to stick with indie stuff and small roles. Unsure if this was the life he wanted for himself.

Dream had gone quiet again, at that, his gaze faraway. Hob wondered what he was thinking about, but before he could ask, Dream changed the subject, asking about Hob’s favorite plays.

Then Hob asks about Dream’s favorite poets, writers, what book he was reading right now. They discuss music and the cities they’ve lived in, sharing embarrassing stories that crack Hob up and make Dream laugh out loud, the atrocious sound unable to be hidden behind a hand.

Hob stares and stares and wonders what he’d been doing his entire life.

Dream has this aura about him, his own gravitational pull, and Hob is powerless to its charm, getting sucked into the point where Hob never wants to leave. He could get lost in the blue of his eyes, his shy smiles. Hob is smitten. And probably a little bit in love.

Before Hob is ready to let Dream go, someone announces that it’s time to wrap up. The spell is broken and the two men fall silent once more.

The director instructs them to say some final lines, some awkward dialogue that apparently is traditional with this channel’s gimmick, and then the shoot is proclaimed to be finished.

Like a dream, everyone is already chatting amongst themselves, scattering about, though the cameras on the tripods remain on. Lucienne walks up the table, thanking Hob for his time and energy, shaking his hand, before turning to Dream.

Hob’s head spins. The illusion is shattered, and Hob has a fraction of a second to wonder if it was all a setup.

But that thought is squashed as Dream’s face sours at something another man says over his shoulder, trying to encourage him to stand and make their way to their next appointment “... already 8 minutes behind schedule…” and Dream looks desperately towards Hob.

Hob stands at the same time as Dream, his mouth working uselessly as he scrambles to say something– anything, to keep Dream here. To borrow him in private for just a moment, just a second!

Hob is only reminded how Dream is an international celebrity by how quickly he is escorted away from him. Despite how well they’d gotten along, despite how they’d run over the shoot time because no one wanted to disturb them. Because there was something there, Hob knew it. And now it was being ushered away from him.

Frantic, Hob asks to borrow a pen from one of the staff members, hastily scribbling down his phone number on a napkin. He turns his mic pack off, and, with a quick glance around, spots Dream standing off to the side as his manager speaks with the show's producer, likely just saying goodbye to them as well.

Hob tries to school his expression into something that’s not insane as he marches up to Dream, catching his attention immediately and holding out his hand.

Dream takes it, a flash of curiosity and wonder– still– at the sight of Hob before him.

Hob clenches Dream’s cool, bony fingers in his, pressing the napkin against his palm.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Hob says, very aware that there are still cameras around them.

“Likewise,” Dream says, his chin tilting down, a secretive smile curling his lips as he certainly feels the napkin in his hand.

Hob smiles, too. He swallows before leaning in close, bringing his free hand up to cover Dream’s lav mic, just in case it’s still on, and brushing his lips against Dream’s ear.

“I’d love to see you again, without cameras.”

A quiet gasp tickles Hob’s eardrum and he grins as he pulls back, elated at the spark of mischief in Dream’s eyes.

“I would like that…” Dream whispers, his low voice cutting Hob straight to his core and knocking the wind out of him.

Hob can only nod, feeling dizzy, as Dream’s hand closes around the napkin and they separate.

Dream nods too, smiling as he’s finally turned away and out of Hob’s sight.

(stay tuned for part two! in like... another 6 months to a year lol)

#dreamling #hob x dream #celebrity crush au #omg omg thank you for letting play around with this concept haha #this is severely unedited and sometimes British. sometimes not #i forgot that Dream was supposed to pass out too whoops lol #he's fine he's fine #my writing #also lol did anyone catch the T Swift reference?#le cringe

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slut4daviii · 1 year ago

Text

character(s): g.tomioka

pt(s): 02/02

cw: (i think) praise, slight marathon sex, overstimulation

summary:

a/n: this had plot. i swear. and I’m writing this on five frappes, three cups of coffee, and 30 mins of sleep so……

title: birthday/anniversary sex

w/c: 1300+

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Giyuu squirmed, his back pressed firmly against his porcelain sink in a sickly sweet manner, pleasure beginning to overlap pain.

he swallowed a gasp, bringing his palm between his teeth to muffle his own… indecent noises. “ffhugk!! s—stop t—teasing… please.”

a chuckled reverberated from above him, followed by a slick noise that made his leg twitch in anticipation. they shook lightly, adding to the overflowing strain in his muscles. he gripped your bicep, nails digging inward to keep himself from falling. “[n—name]!!”

you chuckled, moving your fingers further apart to insert a third, “yes, Mr. Tomioka?”

his eyes rolled slightly, walls tightening around you, almost as if he didn’t want you to move. as if… he wanted you inside of him forever; in front of his husband, in public, with his family, at work, everywhere.

you smiled at him, pulling your fingers to his rim, circling the pulsating muscle before lightly tapping your fingers against it.

his legs again faltered, shaking as his fingers left scarlet streaks lining your back. “p—please…! I need you, need your cock— mfmgh… mmm…”

you kissed him, wrapping both hands around his lower back to left him from the sink. he quickly responded, wrapping his trembling legs against your waist, grinding harshly against your still covered dick.

you smirked into the kiss, pressing against him for a second before pulling away. he reacted quickly, bringing his hips down to meet yours, sending electricity flying gracefully between the two of you.

you broke the kiss, panting lightly. “Giyuu,” he arched his back, dick rubbing between your abs as copious amounts of pre-cum leaked from his tip. “aw, c’mon, you called me, remember?” you chuckled, biting his lip before continuing, “c’mon Giyuu, I know you want it…”

he nodded desperately, dick twitching violently. you looked at him, drinking each one of his features — he was so beautiful. how could his husband give up any of this? “god, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” he blushed, turning the same color as his tip.

“you know how to really thank me?” you paused, wrapping a hand around his tip, “cum.” at your tone, Giyuu panted, thrusting into your palm endlessly—

“I—I can’t! ne… need your co—cock! please!”

“you can do it. c’mon, Giyuu, show me how much you want it.”

you undid your belt, reaching into your pants to roughly jerk yourself off, rolling your neck at the instant pleasure. “fffuckk! Giyuu! I wanna show you all the things your husband can’t, but… you gotta cum for me.”

Giyuu gulped, your tip, not even fully erect was already touching his back. he felt pleasure run along his veins, a burning sensation at the base of his dick.

placing his face into your neck, he inhaled your scent, the aroma slightly musky from your previous work on his other sink. his eyes almost completely disappeared into his head, hips thrusting warmly against your abdomen.

“yeah, you got it… cum for me.”

at the praise, Giyuu moaned shamelessly, the borderline screams echoing through his house and into the neighbors. it was obvious that he’d abandoned all shame long ago, only worried about his, and your, pleasure.

he bit his tongue, toes curling as he felt your tip enter his body— “[name]!”

you, reaching disparity, slammed him down, your tip embedding itself into his womb. you moaned into his shoulder, feeling utterly complete as his warmth slowly surrounded you.

Giyuu was blissed out, body unable to comprehend any other sensation but the thick ropes of semen erupting from his quickly emptying tip. it was amazing. after a month of masturbating to your image, he finally had you. and it was better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

he was still cumming, eyes blank with pleasure as you began moving him along your dick— the feeling of your tip, even at his entrance, still burning in his stomach.

you we’re holding onto what little composure you had, shallowly thrusting into him to keep yourself grounded, not wanting to… ruin him.

every thrust, every glimpse of contact, every second of Giyuu’s walls pulling you back in, swallowing every inch of your cock so graciously… it did something to you. pulling you further and further into his web of sex, love, and desire.

“mmmhh…”

even you were speechless. unable to form sentences, let alone, think about anything else in that moment. “fuhgggkk…”

Giyuu shuddered with pleasure, limp in your arms as he fell from grace. his breathing was rigid, faltering flat of what it should’ve been. his throat was parched, coaxed in a layer of invisible sawdust. “[n—name]?”

you’d stopped moving, breathing quickly to stop your still approaching orgasm. back against the wall, he placed his hands on your biceps, both trapping him against you. he moved slightly, walls again clenching around every inch of your dick. “n—nghm…”

that was the last straw.

the last whim of patience in you.

your final whim.

you moved your hands, one coming to Giyuu’s lower back while the other moved to lift his thigh above your shoulder, giving you better access to his body.

“[n—name]…? what’re—AHNK!! nmgh!! fuhhh—ck!! [n…name]!! sl—slow do—wn!… ghmhnn…”

you only panted, your eyes shut closed with pleasure— head tilting back as your orgasm quickly climbed towards its boiling point.

Giyuu screamed around your cock, hands sliding down the wall as you continued to slam into his swollen hole, hands gripping his soft, milky white thighs. oh… his thighs. you were in love.

“nghk! s..so— oh my god… so good! you—your… mgh!! [name]!! plea—se!! keep— please keep g—ghouing!”

oh, you were falling in love. his moans, his thighs, his tearful eyes that seemed to gleam under the flourishing florescent lights.

he was so perfect.

so so perfect.

you pressed closer to him, your tip throbbing endlessly. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you pulled out, lifting Giyuu’s other leg, “you— ngk, fuck!” your tip was beyond sensitive, flushing a shade deeper before you plunged back into him, biting his neck at the same time.

your orgasm rang through your entire body, a deep groan echoing around you before a high-pitched moan from both you and Giyuu belting out. your legs shook lightly, head tilted back to another angle. “fhhuggk, Giyuu!!”

he also came, legs endlessly shakin on your shoulders, “[n—name]!”

“I love you.”

you slightly hesitated, looking down at the blissed out male, smiling at him, “happy anniversary, baby.”

#dom male reader #gay #seme male reader #top male reader #gay smut #giyuu x male reader #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #demon slayer x male reader #demon slayer x top male reader #demon slayer smut

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yanchive · 7 months ago

Text

Tsundere turned Yandere?

Listen, I reaaallly don't like tsunderes, I find the concept to be annoying, having someone essentially treat you like shit because they can't grow a pair and accept their feelings for you.

But, the concept of a tsun going yandere sounds pretty interesting.

Surely, after dealing with so many snarky comments and polarizing experiences, not knowing if they genuinely enjoy your presence/friendship or if their just tolerating you because you two share an overlapping social circle. There's only so much you can take recieving gifts from them only for them to turn around act like it was burden to go all the way to the store to buy you it even though you never asked. Like, who does that? Gets mad at YOU for giving YOU gifts...?

It makes you stressed. The contradiction of verbal abuse and caring, affectionate actions leave you confused and annoyed. Eventually, the only right thing to do for your sanity is drop them as a friend. Yeah, you'd probably have to drop the other couple friends that are part of each of your social circle, but if it meant not being overwhelmed with gifts, affection, and berating comments, then so be it.

You break the news to them after another encounter. They had called you stupid for being cold one day(it was the middle of winter, why tf wouldn't you be cold!?). They began dragging you to the nearest café for a cup of hot chocolate, but you pulled away and confessed how your feeling. You wanted to do it as cordial as possible, but that uneeded insult had you being a little harsher than you liked it to be.

To be honest, it made you feel bad for a second, when you saw their resting bitch face melt away, their eyes going wide as they flinched away from you when you raised your voice. A look crossed their face that you couldn't quite discern, but you can tell it fell under the line of surprise and sadness. Heartbreak, maybe? But why would they be heartbroken? They've been nothing but a pain in the ass to you.

You fled before they could shake themselves from their shock and respond. They called after you, but you can tell by their fading calls, they were not following after you.

You blocked them on everything, and explained the situation to your friends before leaving all groupchats that had the little brat in them, and took the week off to settle your nerves and hide away. Not because you thought anything bad would happen, but just to hope whatever possible attempts at contact would wash over when they'll eventually(hopefully) give up. You knew a few times you got them coming to your door, but you never bothered to respond.

Once the week ended, and you decided to enter back into society, the first few days went by smoothly. Only to be awoken one morning to barrage of texts and missed phone calls from an unknown number.

The texts started off tame. A wave of apologies and begs of forgiveness. Confessions of love and compliments, telling you how they never meant to hurt you. How they were terrified of you finding out they were in love. The fear of rejection was so bad that they completely overlooked how their actions would affect you. It got more and more incoherent and unhinged until it was nothing but a massive load of photos taken of you throughout the past few days. Distant photos. You're in a grocery store in the first few photos. Going down multiple aisles. You're getting milk and eggs in one, chips and soda in another, deodorant, and body wash in these one. At the checkout lane in the last.

You're at a gas station in the next. Someone was taken the photos from within their car. You're stepping out of your own. Heading into the station. They're zoomed into the window, getting your blurry silhouette at the register. And dozens of you just standing at the pump filling your car.

They have you at your workplace, on a walk, at a restaurant, and a coffee shop. They put little quips of how amazing you looked in the photos, how you made them feel. They talked about wanting to snap the neck of the waiter who took your order when they made you laugh.

Voicemails were them alternating from having straight up mental breakdowns, sobbing uncontrollably as they tried to plead for forgiveness between each gasp of air. Others were just straight rambles, detailing their stalking and reiterating the same affectionate compliments found in the texts. They went on about how they dream of dates with you, how your wedding would look. It was such a 180 from how they used to be. Did that one argument seriously have them snap this bad?

You told them off before blocking their number, attempting to continue your day, albeit so much more paranoid that you liked it to be.

It was terrifying. No matter how much you looked over your shoulder, studied every single person in your vicinity, and tried to blend yourself in the crowds, you could never catch a glimpse of their face, nor shake the unnerving feeling of eyes burning into your body.

Gifts would start showing up at your doorsteps and workplace. Almost every day you were continuously blocking new numbers to try and get them to stop sending you messages and photos of you with no such luck.

You were at your wits end. None of your friends could help. Hell, several of them just seemed to disappear. They just quit contacting you. Police were only minor help, actually taking it a little bit seriously until they came back and told you they talked to your alleged stalker and determined it couldn't possibly be them and that you should contact them when this alleged stalker began getting aggressive. (Hello?? You have voicemails of their fucking voice what do you mean its not them!? You knew this town was shit...)

Though, one good thing came out of contacting the police. It seemed to have scared them enough to halt their harassment. All phone calls and texts came to an end. No more gifts. You could finally breathe.

This continued for a couple weeks. Life returned back to normal. So normal, in fact, that you finally felt safe enough to attend a bar party with a few coworkers one night, just to celebrate what you thought was your new found freedom.

Its just... such a coincidence you weren't the only one invited. Not that you knew. No, not until the next morning after a horrendous hangover. A hangover you weren't expecting. You had one drink, didn't you? Why does it feel so much worse than a hangover? And why can't you move your body? When did you have so many photos of yourself in your room?

And why is their a familiar face looking down at you with that unsettling grin?

#yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagine #tsunder yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #gn yandere #ill only accept tsuns if you can turn em yandere

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thedevilrisen · 2 months ago

Text

Concrete Impressions

Quinn x Reader!oc

Word Count: 1.3

Authorial Note: I hope you like it! This is basically the precursor fic to Cradle Me! I am making this an au, this is a little bit on how Quinn and Cookie meet! I will be making a part two to this fic!

TW: Not edited, swearing.

The day Quinn encountered you was the day he knew there was no one else for him. It was a warm autumn day on campus, though there was a significant breezing blowing with a spiteful chill. Your brown hair was tucked away in a neat plait down your back, a brown wide- ribbed sweater overlapping your dark patterned jeans which were rolled up over the top of your sneakers. You were waiting at the coffee cart, behind half-a-dozen people in line for their daily sustenance as well. Quinn watched from a table where he was placed, surrounded by a large group of his friends... well of some them were, other acquaintances, such as the sophomore girl who was trying desperately to giggle her way under his skin formed the majority of the numbers in the group. As you inched closer to the little counter at the front of the cart a blonde man, clearly impatient bumped into you. Quinn watched with wide eyes as you toppled over, books in hand spilling onto the dirty brick footpath.

Quinn had watched the young man who, essentially bumped you from your place in the line, stepped up to the vendor and ordered his drink. It troubled Quinn deeply that this young man had little to no regard for what he had done, or who he had done it too. At this point in time you didn't even know Quinn existed, or that he had singlehandedly decided that he need to know you, know if you could be the one. Because as he watched you part your hair from you face, tucking the unruly strands behind your ears as you pulled yourself and your books up from the ground, brushing the debris off your knees, Quinn knew that he needed to be the prince in your fairytale.

"Quinny! Where are you going!" the blonde girl, previously wrapping herself around his arm, nuzzling into his shoulder whined. This drew some attention from other members of the group, the watched as Quinn peeled the girl from his arm and quickly half walked, half jogged to where you were still trying to fix yourself up.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Quinn crouched down next to you, when you looked up at him, wide caramel eyes and a charismatic smile on your face he swear he almost melted.

"Oh! Yeah.. yes." you puffed out with a small laugh, "Just a bit of a topsy terby morning!"

Quinn was amazed at your optimism, it seemed like you were going to let the little situation upset the rest of your day. "Could I buy you a coffee?"

"Oh! You do not have to do that, I was purely just trying to get a small caffeine hit before my next class." you spoke, slinging your bag onto your shoulder, "Maybe even one of their amazing double fudge brownie cookies."

Quinn's lips tipped up in a small smile, "Don't ya think all of that chocolate is a-"

"Bit sweet?" you cut him off and Quinn nodded, letting out a breathy laugh, "I know. I love it though, especially when they heat it so the inside is all gooey!"

"I take it you like sweet things?" Quinn asked.

"You could say that!" you giggled back at him in response, stepping forward in line to the front, Quinn following beside you as you turned to the barista who was holding a cup and nico pen ready to take your order. "Could I please have.. a dirty chai on almond? Would you like anything?"

Quinn was surprised when she turned and asked if he wanted something, he stumbled out, “I’ll have a flat white.. two shots, two sugars please.”

Quinn smiles to himself airily, ‘she’s as gracious she is courteous.’ After shaking off his daze he spoke, “Didn’t you also want one of those… death by chocolate cookies?”

“Oh yes! Could I please have one of your double chocolate brownie cookies?” you asked, “Could you heat it up too please?”

The barista nodded and turned away to make your coffees and to retrieve the fabled cookie. Standing there Quinn realised he didn’t actually know your name, nor what you were studying. Just that you liked cookies and had a killer sweet tooth.

“So Cookie, do you have a name or am I gonna have to call ya that?” Quinn stated, breaking the ice.

“My name is Y/N, but you can call me Cookie if you would like stranger.” Y/N smiled back, eyes gleaming with humour.

“My name is Quinn.” He corrected. “You mentioned having class soon? Can I ask what you have?”

“Well Quinn.. I have modern history next.” You spoke, quietly thanking the barista as she passed over the two coffees and the box holding chocolate lava-y goodness. Together the both of you gravitated away from the cart, moving back in the direction of where Quinn was originally sitting. The group still crowding the tables.

“With Professor Ryan?” Quinn questioned hopefully, he had modern history next as well, was this his lucky day?

“Yeah! In the Carsledine building!” You took a sip of the steaming beverage in your hand, the other still holding the cookie box to your chest.

”I have MH too! Would you want to sit together in his lecture?” Quinn leaned over and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, exchanging a Quick handshake with a mate of his.

“Sure! I don’t normally sit with anyone but.. I guess things can change.” Y/N smiled, walking alongside with Quinn through the campus courtyard, taking note of the amount of female attention he received.

Quinn let Cookie slide in the door before he did, holding it open for her as she stepped into the expansive lecture hall. He followed her small frame as she nimbly weaved her way through the rows of fold up chairs. Cookie approached the the left side of the lecture hall, the wall was interrupted by a humongous window, offering an extensive view over the rest of the campus. Rain clouds hung low today, dew covered the bare branches of the deciduous trees. Quinn sat down next to her, he admired her gorgeous face as she pulled her iPad out of her bag. Quinn noted the way she meticulously set up her note taking page with her screen pen, placing in all the text boxes and writing headings out. She pulled a keyboard attachment out of her bag, navy coloured too. Being around you Quinn's gaze sharpened and his body longed to know every detail he could, like the fact that navy appeared to be a favoured colour. The glasses that you had delicately slid onto the bridge of your nose were a deep shade of navy blue with gold arms. The scrunchie you were tucking your long shimmering hair into a ponytail with. Your phone case, iPad case and keyboard as well as the colour of the ink she wrote onto the digital page with were all the same blue.

"Do you like sports?" Quinn had one channel of small talk he could always revert back too, and he was damned sure he was going to use it.

"I don't mind sports!" Cookie replied, looking up from the screen she was writing on, "I like skiing, cross country specifically none of that moguls business. I also run too, cross country as well!"

"Are you on the track and field team?" he asked, curious.

"I am! I captain the track team!" Cookie looked over at Quinn again, waving silently to the professor who had walked in. "What about you?"

"I play Ice Hockey." Quinn spoke, he wished to play his cards right. If he did so, maybe he could get her to a game. "I'm projected to draft in the first round of the NHL entry. I fly out to Dallas with my family in about a month and a half for it."

Cookie smiled, a little bewildered, "That is seriously awesome! Congratulations!"

For the first time Quinn didn't get that rolling feeling in his gut after telling someone where he was projected to go. Y/N took it with so much grace, she didn't pester him about it, she didn't instantly try to suck up and seduce him. She just accepted it. Congratulated him and seemed like she genuinely cared.

Holy fuck. Is this what being in love feels like?

#risen rambles :d #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nhl players #vancover canucks #vancouver canucks #Cookie Hughes #Cookie’s Universe #Quinn x Cookie

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sopiao · 1 year ago

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könig who is absolutely head over heels for you.

talks about you so much that you’re surprised when his comrades knows quite a bit about you when you drop in for a brief visit.

goes on various and long tangents and rambles about you, sometimes he just forgets he’s talking to other people and just continues his ramble in German.

which leaves his comrades and teammates confused but not wanting to disturb his babbling and just leave him to talk to himself at this point. it’s not until later, in the middle of the night, that he realizes it.

most of his mates can’t even believe him whenever he talks and describes his lover, how sweet they are, the funny interactions and moments they have, and just how drop dead gorgeous you are.

König gets slightly offended but understands that sometimes not even he could believe it that he has such and amazingly beautiful and wonderful partner.

“Know what? I call them right now”

and when you pick up, replying on you laptop that’s sitting on your bed next to you while laying down in nothing but a black tank and his grey sweats (that you love to see him wear), their jaws drop.

“Hallo, leibling!”

“Hey, Ko!”

not only are they just stunningly gorgeous, their voice is just so comforting and energizing to hear. they all just stay quite and witness the conversation between the two.

in the middle of the conversation he just forgets that he called them for the sole reason to prove to his friends that you’re real, and he just skips himself to his room and plops himself on his bed like he’s on cloud nine.

i like to think that this 6’10, pure muscle of a man lays on his stomach and kicks his feet in the air when he talks to you or when he hears you talk, maybe even twirl a lock of hair in his finger.

when you drop by the base to go give him a quick visit before you have to leave for engineering college, both plans overlapping, so you won’t be available when he gets out.

he’s happily waiting by the entrance, rocking himself back and forth on his heels with his arms behind his back, as he bounces with excitement.

when your large truck parks and you hop out of the car, not even bothering to turn off the car, as you run up and meet König in the middle in a snake trap of a hug. tightly snaking his arms around you, as he spins you around. Price and Soap laughing at the very visible height and size difference between the two.

when the large Austrian man let you down back on the gravel road.

you barely reached his chest.

the 141 found it cute and quite wholesome that you had to pull him down by his vest and you pushing yourself up on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the nose.

when König finally formally introduced you to his teammates, you were very much like him, shy and introverted. König was quite comfortable with them so he was happy to be your voice to them.

the rest of the boys were stunned and slightly nervous as well. hands shaking or face blushing when you individually shook each of their hands, but they still gave you a warm and inviting welcome.

even when their in the common room, either talking or planning their next plan of action for an upcoming undercover mission.

but of course König was more occupied with you, of course, there were no other seats (lie) so you had to sit on his lap, his hands either wrapped around your middle or resting on your hips.

when you both thought that no one was looking or paying attention to you two, you would look up at your boyfriend and he’d cover both of you under his sniper hood to give you a quick peck on the lips and a nuzzle his nose against yours.

omfg

when you sit normally back on his lap and he looks back up to his comrades, and sees all of his friends staring that their with a teasing smirk or a ‘really?’ face. They both covered their face in embarrassment, showing how similar they both are.

no doubt that Soap and Price are teasing the two when they both sleepily walk into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, König walking in shirtless instead it’s on your sleepy figure. jokes and jabs are thrown at the sleepy couple as König just waves them off as he leans against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee as he wraps his arms around you while you lean your back against his chest.

they didn’t really mind you being there, they were happy to see their teammate so happy and energetic, much different from how quiet he is.

when you do leave since you can’t stay for long, he stays on call for you all night while you drive, wanting to make the most of it. he knows he’ll be tired in the morning. but for you? worth it.

by the time it��s 3:52 AM he’s on the verge of drifting off into deep sleep, muttering and mumbling responses, 90% of them not even being in english or coherent german.

you called him to try and keep you awake during your drive, but just knowing he’s there on the other side of the line is enough to keep you content. it’s all about quality time.

#call of duty modern warfare #konig cod #konig fluff #konig headcanons #konig x reader #konig fanfiction #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig imagine #könig mw2 #könig headcanons #könig my beloved #cod fanfic #cod men #cod mw2 #kortac #hes such a cutie patootie #konig acting like a puppy in love #task 141

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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No Sugar Tonight 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The evening shift is quiet. You don’t mind the low din of the atrium. The cafe offers the only light to the empty lobby. Hours ago, it was a rush of bodies and voices, now, the shops have closed down and the sign above you remains lit as the sole beacon in the business plaza.

The slower hours are more routine than the frantic mornings filled with early risers desperate for their first dose of caffeine. You did a few weeks of that before you hopped on the evening’s rota. It gives you time to read between baking and cleaning.

The front doors open and close, echoing through the space. It’s eerie this late at night but you it doesn’t bother you as much as it once does. The footsteps that follow add to the unease of their approach. You recognise the man by his silhouette.

The marquee glow limns his harsh features, the stubble on his jaw adding to the sharp angles, his dark hair and brows give him a sinister slant. You smile as you stand from the stool and pour him a black coffee. You ring him up before he even gets to the counter.

“Evening, sir,” you greet him. You still don’t know his name. All your other regulars like to chat. He doesn’t. “Black.”

He flicks a card up between his index and middle fingers. The stamps across the rows add up to a free drink. You take it, brushing his calloused fingertips as you do.

“Oh, a free drink. Exciting.” You cancel the transaction and slide his cup forward, “enjoy.”

He grumbles and takes the cup. He moves to the other end of the kiosk and grabs a lid and sleeve. As he walks away, you bid him a good night. He never says much, if anything.

You go back to sanitizing the frother. The work isn’t so dull when you have nothing else to do. The night wears on as the sky softens through the glass walls of the atrium

Dayani arrives just before five to take over. You hand her the keys and balance the till before you go. She sends you off with the dread of the shift ahead.

Out on the street, the lull remains. Not for much longer. The bus routes will pick up and the daily commuters will clog the streets. Your trek home is five blocks but not too bad considering. You share a loft with two other girls but you rarely run into them. You all work different shifts in different borroughs.

Your room is at the rear of the old brick building. The legislated fire escape crosses your window and casts a shadow through the sheer curtains. You undress and unwind in your single bed. The room is small and not exactly worth the cost but it’s a roof over your head.

You sleep until just after one. The city had you waking in spurts at the honk of an angry driver or the shouts of rowdy pedestrians. You eat the stale scone you claimed from work and have instant coffee to wash it down.

You go through the usual. You wake up little by little and drag yourself out to the shower. You catch a glimpse of one of your roommates. Lottie barely seems to notice you as she carries a basket out the door.

When you’re done washing up, you pull on your sweats and a loose tee. You waste some time watching TV on your phone then plug it in so you have some juice left when you leave. You eat a microwaved tray of pasta and change into your uniform. You do up your hair and face, nothing too much, and count the minutes until you’re due to leave.

As exciting as the city can be, you can’t afford that part of it. You work, you sleep, you get by.

Xander has an hour overlap with you before he goes. He tells you about all his midterms and the party he wants to ditch his studying for. It’s only an elective course anyway. He leaves in indecision.

You never finished school. You did one year and dropped out. You did well enough but you couldn’t afford it. Not even the local community college in your hometown. Funny, you still came all the way out here to scrape pennies.

The last rush of the day passes through. Those on the way to their own overnight shifts; security guards, hotel clerks, and all others.

The silence sets in. You play around on your phone. The battery dies a lot quicker lately so you make yourself quiet the matching game and put it in your pocket. You pull out the novel you keep hidden behind the till and read until the door opens and closes.

Same time, same man. His black hair swallows up the light of the sign above as you pour his coffee. You get him a new card and stamp it, handing it over with your usual smiling nicety. Still no response. He goes to grab his lid and sleeve.

You wait patiently. He doesn’t march off like usual. You peek over as he strides along the counter. He drops a bill in the tip jar. You thank him. Still no answer.

He walks off and you look in the cup. You can’t believe it. You snatch up the bill and push through the door at the side of the kiosk. You hurry after his shadow.

“Sir, sir, I think you made some mistake--” the door closes heavily and his figure passes outside the glass panels. You can’t go that far without locking up. Oh well, he’ll be back tomorrow and you can let him know.

You walk back to the cafe stand and dip back behind. You unfold the hundred dollar bill. Maybe it’s not real. Maybe it’s a joke. Looks pretty real when you hold it up to the light.

#brock rumlow #dark brock rumlow #dark!brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #series #drabble #no sugar tonight #au #marvel #crossbones #mcu #captain america #avengers

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libbyfandom · 1 year ago

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Let’s take a look inside Modern!Mizu’s Camera Roll! Featuring Reader and BES Characters (Companion Piece)

Screenshot of an undercut with long hair.

Screenshot of a wolf cut.

Picture of her tv screen showing her new high score at a video game. (To rub it in Taigen’s face that she beat his)

Her hand cupping the back of a pretty neck covered in hickeys.

Akemi death-gripping a trash can with her face buried into it as she hurls. The rollercoaster Mizu forced her on is in the background.

Selfie of her and her adoptive father at a baseball game. (She couldn’t get him to smile. He only hummed, which made her laugh)

Video of you asleep on her, your head on her shoulder and your hand curled up on her chest. Her fingers are gently brushing the side of your face for a minute, before your eyebrows pinch in sleep. You make a soft, stressed noise unconsciously. Her lips press to your temple for a long moment. “Shh shh shh.” Your expression relaxes again, and she goes back to gently stroking your cheek.

The full moon.

A video of Ringo coming up silently behind you and Akemi while you're standing in line at a coffee shop. You two turn around and nearly jumps out of your skin when you sees him. (He's always so silent)

Screenshot of a quote “How do we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not become? -Doc Lubel”.

Her torn up jeans and bloodied outer thigh as she sits in the grass along the road, her crashed motorcycle in the background.

A video of her holding your wrists down in bed, oh so slowly pressing kisses all over your chest where she yanked your top up to your collarbone. Every once in a while she bites into your skin without warning, gripping your wrists tighter when your body arches and tries to twitch away with broken whines. She waits each time for you to stop moving, staring intensely up at you with your skin between her teeth, before she licks at the bite to soothe it away and restarts the cycle.

Video of her sitting on her bed practicing knife flipping.

Her hand holding a book titled "Waiting by the Front Door: Children of Parents with Addiction".

A close up of the price tag of the book "Waiting by the Front Door: Children of Parents with Addiction".

Saved selfie Ringo sent of the two of them on a hike.

Screenshot of a dinner reservation confirmation for two at a new restaurant downtown.

Video of Akemi in the middle of some rant in Mizu and Ringo’s living room. The darkness outside the window suggests it’s very late into the night. She gestures wildly at something off camera. “-and Taigen pees in the fucking shower-!” Taigen’s voice comes from somewhere off camera, loud and offended. “I aim for the drain!” You sit in the background behind Akemi, looking disturbed and distressed.

Screenshot of piercings. (For the wish list people are asking for)

A gif of a character going “Some god damn peace and quiet”. (For the wish list people are asking for)

The ocean.

Saved video Ringo sent of you two at the beach bonfire. You’re cuddled up into each other while sitting against a log, your legs overlapping hers. You’re both staring into the fire, absentmindedly playing with each others fingers where you’re holding hands on your lap. She’s never looked more relaxed.

You and Akemi in the backseat asleep on the drive back from the beach.

Saved photo you sent her of her and her adoptive father playing chess. Her brows are furrowed as she thinks over her next move, sitting properly with her hands in her lap. This is instead of how she usually plays with one leg propped up on her chair and elbow leaning on her knee when she plays with Akemi.

The one nice photo of just her and Taigen, posing in a big mirror at a dark, more upscale restaurant wearing suits.

Screenshot of receipt for two concert tickets on your birthday.

Ringo laying head down on a pile of finals notes in defeat at the library.

Screenshot of a text you sent of a grocery list.

A video in her “Hidden” folder that is 37 minutes long and requires a password that only she and you know.

Screenshot of the word “Bitch” in Barbie pink font.

You curled up on the couch fast asleep, wearing Mizu’s oversized college sweatshirt.

Saved photo Ringo sent of Mizu standing in the bathtub making a peace sign with one gloved hand as the other holds Akemi’s newly dyed and wet burgundy hair while Akemi is seen leaning over the tub so Mizu can rinse out the excess dye.

A picture of her hand holding an engagement ring nestled inside a green velvet box. She wanted Akemi’s opinion. So she’ll stop having an anxiety attack over what she picked.

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #blueeyesamurai #mizu blue eye samurai #modern mizu

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tayfabe75 · 9 months ago

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hi. Just wondering if you have seen the last couple of concerts that were streamed and what you think about Matty feeling quite down. Do you still think there is any hope for him and taylor to be back together

I'm going to preface this (probably) controversial take by first explaining that I think Matty is someone who, while touring, is lucky to be utterly surrounded by loved ones. From his bandmates to his manager, the personal friends he's enlisted to handle the merch, lighting, stage production, etc, even the security guys seem quite close with Matty. If the man was truly struggling with poor mental health, he has a giant support network at his fingertips. Trust me, if you can tell Matty is upset from a grainy livestream, the ones on and behind the stage can, too - and they care, even more than me or you! Because they know him, truly know him, in a way that fans never could, no matter how many times they listen to his albums or watch his interviews. He's good! Or, if he's not, he will be soon, because he's got his boys!

All that said… I'm going to draw attention to something else Matty said while on stage:

"Even in an earnest moment, you should always be suspicious."

And so, I remain suspicious! If Matty appears upset on stage, it's either one of two things: 1) tour is ending, or 2) he wants to appear upset. He once said this about ATVB:

"It's a show that feels pretty loose, but it's actually very, very tight. It's very, very well-rehearsed."

I know the generally accepted fan take is that Matty is just too ADHD to follow through with anything and gave up whatever his plans for the show were supposed to be... But what if the plan was always to make it look like he was really going through it for the duration of SATVB? Upset, distracted, struggling. He even preemptively warned of this emotional shift:

"If you see me sliding over the next six months, I appreciate it, but don't worry about it."

Of course, if Matty has truly been experiencing mental turmoil in his personal life that has since spilled into his professional life, I wish him all the best and hope he finds time and space to heal, but I trust that he's in very good hands if that's the case. After all, he assured us that the boys (his chosen family, if you will) would die for each other if it came down to it!

But, if all is as it seems and Matty truly lost Taylor last June… and if his upset during the last handful of SATVB shows was somehow connected to that loss all these months later… I would point you to the 'Oh Caroline' video, which shows what will become of him if he gets the ending he had hoped to avoid… (ie: if he got it "wrong")

He still ends up with his boys! That's not so bad, is it? Do you happen to know how many folks out there dream of growing old with either Ross, George, or Adam? A whole bunch. And all three? Matty, you lucky dog!

For me, the more likely explanation is that absolutely everything has been orchestrated from start to finish. The tour may have concluded, but the show must go on. So, yes! I would bet money on Matty finding his way back to Taylor. And by the time he does, I even suspect the tides will have turned in his favor following whatever devastation awaits us in TTPD. We'll see!

But... how curious that a pair of artists who have both romanticized star-crossed love stories... should end up in one of their own! Luckily for us, Taylor didn't like the ending of Romeo and Juliet, so she changed it. Thanks for the ask! 🤍

#answered #speculation: ttpd #overlap: coffee cups

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an0nymousmessenger · 4 months ago

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When the Sun Rises Again

Five Hargreeves x Reader Synopsis: In which you see a familiar boy with a mannequin at a park after saving the world. Word Count: 2.7k tags. Fluff, Comfort, s4 epilogue continued, more than friends less than lovers A/n: A little continuation of the epilogue of when you see Delores in the end credits with an unidentified person ao3 link

On August 8, 2024, nothing out of the ordinary occurred. It would be no exaggeration to say that this day was completely normal. The sun was shining, and the weather was the best it had been in a long time.

The wind blew gently, rustling the nearby trees and bushes in this small sanctuary.

It was a nice afternoon in August, perfect for people enjoying their outings at a small, lesser-known park. Picnics dotted the grassy areas, and people strolled together, enjoying each other's company.

Laughter filled the air as children chased each other in a harmless game of tag. A couple walked their dog, deep in conversation. Nearby, a man led a meditation session among a group, while a woman sat with her daughter, braiding her hair.

The moment seemed fragile and almost unreal, at least to the eyes of the newcomer. It was a tranquility you weren’t quite used to, and you found yourself struggling to take it all in. Still, you continued forward, focused on one main objective.

You passed the meditating group, the mother and daughter, and many other familiar faces you didn't dare acknowledge. Everything seemed to slow, as if memories from a past time were beginning to overlap.

In the midst of all this, by a rather old but beautiful tree, a few gentle marigolds grew from within the ground, sprouting out enchantingly, showing off their petals to the world. They shined golden, and perhaps with a little magic too.

You took your hands in the pockets of your light jacket as you walked casually with your new sneakers through the grass.

Eventually, you stopped in your tracks, and stared at a specific pair, glowing in the summer’s light. You hesitated, your breath caught up in your throat as some unfamiliar feeling began to bubble in your chest, threatening to overspill.

You wondered if it would be okay to disturb them, questioning whether you should just stay still and take in the scene a little longer. Just for a while. After all, time was on your side this time.

You squinted, fighting against the bright summer glare.

You looked onward, afraid that if you closed your eyes even for a second, the scene in front of you would disappear—that the feeling of the wind and sun had been just your imagination. That the boy sitting there with a gentle expression, one you’d only seen a few times in your life, would vanish with the wind. Fleeting, and brief.

As if he were never there.

A sweet but deceiving dream.

Even if it were a dream, you would be satisfied because, to you, everything was fine. Everything was as it should be.

But alas, the tangy summer scent was real, and the reality you were currently walking through was undeniably real.

So incredibly real.

It was terrifying.

The sun’s warmth shone generously on the pair—a boy who seemed to be in his teens, accompanied by a rather unique mannequin that only had its upper body. They sat at a plain table, enjoying each other’s company.

The boy held a newspaper in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other. Another cup sat by an empty seat, while the mannequin rested by a nearby tree.

At first glance, it almost seemed as if the two were having a pleasant conversation. The boy looked relieved, his shoulders relaxed, legs crossed in comfort as his dark eyes browsed the weekly news.

It seemed as if he had no worries on his mind, no stress or problems weighing on him. Although his eyes still carried that tired look. It was a look not commonly found in the kids his age. Some would even go on to suggest his eyes give off the feeling the boy was much older than he let on.

But even if that were true, they had nothing to prove such a statement.

You took in this sight with a little sigh, a mental click, as if forcing yourself to capture this moment and lock it away in your heart, hiding it carefully from the world before anything else tried to take it away.

Just in case.

Just for safe measure.

You looked around again before making your way toward the empty seat opposite the newspaper-reading boy. He wore a plain white collared shirt, the top buttons undone, paired with simple dark shorts, giving him a youthful yet old-fashioned look.

As you approached, the boy noticed you and looked up, raising a questioning brow, which greatly amused you.

You gave a small smile before asking in a rather level voice, “Is anyone sitting here?”

“Well, it’s not exactly occupied, now is it?”

A familiar tone of dryness, tinted with a grain of sarcasm, dripped from the boy’s reply.

Your smile grew as you pulled your hands out of your pockets and gestured toward the seat. “Then do you mind?”

The boy, usually armed with harsh and sharp remarks, shook his head.

You sat down and picked up the cup, noticing that it contained your favorite drink, as if the boy in front of you knew something you didn’t. As if he had almost expected you to come and find him.

You brought the cup to your mouth, took a sip, then another, before gingerly setting it down back upon the table, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. Then, you took another look around.

This time, your attention was mainly on the boy in front of you, who seemed a little out of place in such a peaceful setting. The wind gently tousled his hair and rustled his shirt, causing him to clutch the newspaper a little tighter, pretending to be uninterested.

You decided to also pretend you didn’t notice his occasional glances toward you. You pretended you didn’t notice the searching look in his eyes, a habit he tended to have when he hadn’t seen you in a while. A habit of his that you would keep to yourself, hidden away from the dangers of the world.

“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

The boy sighed, looking away while taking a sip of his black coffee. “If you say so.”

You leaned against the table, one arm supporting one side of your face as you put on what he dubbed your ‘shit-eating grin’. “Why don’t you play with the kids over there? You know, kids your age.”

With a sharp, unamused glare, he responded, "I'd rather chew on concrete," his voice flat and unamused.

You huffed in your seat. “Somehow, even on such a nice day, you still manage to make it old and boring.”

"Maybe if you raised your standards, you’d actually appreciate reading the newspaper and having a simple drink while at it. But I won’t hold my breath."

“Prick.”

“Amateur.”

You sat up, narrowing your eyes. “Hey, says the one who looks like a–”

“One more word and I’ll have you up in that tree over there.”

“...”

You smirked, leaning in. “As if you could stand being apart from my charming company.”

He rolled his eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Aren’t we full of ourselves today?”

“What? Can’t I enjoy myself on such a lovely morning?”

He scoffed, glancing away from your teasing expression, and mumbled under his breath, “I suppose some people have to.”

You look at the boy, the way he was looking away from you as the tips of his ears turn a slight red. You twirl the cup in your hands that contains your preferred drink, the one you usually order when out and about, and can’t help but think to yourself:

What a liar.

Though, you guess you’ll cut the boy some slack, he after all has worked quite hard for way too many years to count. You’ll let him have this one, just this one.

And so, instead of teasing him anymore, you rest your hand on your elbows and stare at the scenery of the park, soaking in his presence and the fact that he is finally here with you.

He was here safe and sound.

Ah. You suppose you were both liars.

“You're doing it again,” spoke the boy out of the blue.

You turned towards him with a cheeky smile, “What exactly am I doing?”

“That ridiculous face.”

You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue, “Bleh,”

He gave you a disgusted look as if he couldn’t believe you’d done something so childish, but you couldn’t care less. After everything you’d both been through, you deserved to indulge in such small matters.

Certainly, it was not the end of the world, was it?

He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before muttering, “I can’t believe I somehow have to put up with you…”

And yet, he made no attempt to move. Instead, he seemed to settle even more comfortably into his park chair.

You paused for a moment, taking in his ‘I’m seriously done with you’ expression before adding, “Yeah, and I’m a grumpy teenager who’s emotionally constipated in apparently every timeline.”

The boy shot you an unamused glare. “I'm not.”

"Yeah, you are."

"Idiot."

His retort was lacking in bite, something you’d come to recognize as his way of showing that he couldn’t find anything harsher to say.

“Fine! Then ask her,” you said, pointing at the mannequin beside him.

The boy let out an exasperated sigh, clearly used to your antics, before turning toward the object of your pointing.

“Delores doesn’t think so.”

"Oh yeah? Is that what she really said?"

He put on a sly grin. "Why don't you ask her yourself and find out?"

You turned toward the mannequin, playing along. "Has he been mistreating you while I've been away?"

He took a sharp breath, his voice dripping with mock indignation. "How dare you insinuate such an outrageous—"

“Oh, you’ll live,” you muttered as you took another sip from the cup.

“Prick.”

“Ass.”

“Annoying.”

“...”

You and he shared a small staring contest before you broke into a fit of laughter. The childish insults hadn’t been lost on either of you despite the years. Even with his usual sharp and witty remarks, it seemed that your banter had devolved into a playful exchange, bringing you both back to simpler times.

He looked at you with an exasperated expression, but couldn’t hide the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards.

But of course, you were unable to see this, too caught up in your own little laugh. This also caused you to miss the way he had briefly looked at you, as if he too were saving this moment in his mind, causing his usually sharp persona to soften, if only slightly. He’d never admit it, not in a hundred years.

The laughter died down, and you noticed the silence that settled over you. You looked up at the boy, finding him already looking at you. A comfortable silence enveloped the three of you, including the mannequin, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft smile.

And he looked at your smile, one that he would never tell you that it made him want to look away as a burning feeling crept up his ears. He’ll never tell you he noticed the light in your eyes as you did so, the way your eyes looked at him made him feel some sort of way. He’ll never tell you it was that smile, along with everything else, that had him crawling through time to get back to you, to see it again.

To see you and his family again, alive and well.

He’ll never tell you that he missed that smile, and he often wondered when he would see it again. He would never tell you that he had gone to your favorite coffee shop and bought two drinks instead of one, he’ll never tell you he had been sitting here all morning, waiting.

Instead, you two simply shared the silence in the distance.

Perhaps at another time, you would do something about this silence, you would reach out, and touch upon all the things you two were too afraid to say.

Perhaps one day, this silence would allow the two of you to be vulnerable without hesitation and caution. And perhaps one day, you’ll be able to reach over to take and take his hand in yours, to invite him to dance with you in the late of night or rain. You’ll both wear a smile, perhaps a tired smile, but a smile nonetheless, and you’ll both be listening to the best 90s bangers of the ages on an old record player.

But at least for today, the two of you will take your time.

Because today, you’d enjoy each other’s presence and the trivial banter. After all, you had all the time in the world.

It had been a while since you last bickered with the boy, much less joked and laughed. It was nice.

Really nice.

Was it sad to say that this was all you ever wanted? To sit down, share a drink, and talk about useless and stupid things? That you wouldn’t trade this for the world, that you would fight to keep this moment in your hands.

The boy looked back at you before straightening his newspaper, effectively regaining your attention.

“Stop zoning out.”

“My bad.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines of how he didn’t go through all that shit just for you to start staring into space and feeling sad or whatnot.

Your foot brushed against his for a brief moment. At first, you meant to pull it back, but instead, you left it there to gauge his reaction. He didn’t move his foot away, and you couldn’t tell if he was ignoring it or deliberately letting it stay there.

You stare at him, silently, before a question tumbles its way from your mind and to your lips, “Are you happy?”

The question lingered in the air between the two of you, like an untouched subject that none of you had dared to ask in the past. It was out of reach back then, and there had been much more pressing things to be worrying about.

And maybe, just maybe, that between you and him, one of these days you can truly rest. It’ll be a day just like today, and the distance between the two of you will be like a distant memory, and you can once again lean on him, as you had always done, and he can melt into you, as he had once done before.

The boy looked away from you and into the distance, observing the lively park as the sun enveloped him in the warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Nothing was out of the ordinary—if you didn’t count the teenage-looking boy drinking coffee with his mannequin and the newspaper he was reading in the middle of a park.

He looked down and smiled, the sun gently caressing his features as a genuine smile graced his face, but of course, it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t try to hide it as he answered in a soft uncharacteristic voice, “Yeah…yeah I am.”

You looked at him, seeing the way he was trying to hide his emotions, and rolled your eyes. It seemed no matter the time or place, he was still the same, and for that, you couldn’t have asked for more.

Perhaps, in a way, this meant the future was bright. That a time would come when this tranquility, so unfamiliar now, would become all you know. Even if today was just the beginning.

You took another sip from the cup and smiled.

“I’m glad.”

Extra.

"Hey, you should tell me where you got these drinks."

"What now?"

He rolled his eyes, feigning uninterest.

"Seriously! I know you bought these for me."

He continued flipping through the pages of the newspapers.

"Oh, did I? And what if I said they’re for Delores?"

You held up the drink.

"Delores prefers lattes, not this."

"Does she? How fascinating."

"Prick!"

He set the newspaper aside and gave you an amused look.

“Fine. I’ll take you there next time. Happy now?”

You don’t point out that this was his way of admitting he did buy the drinks with you in mind, but you’re too content to press the issue. You decided to let him off the hook... again.

#five hargreeves #number five #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #umbrella acedmy #number five x reader #number five x you #tua #tua five #tua season 4 #fluff #epilogue #comfort #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #healing from that ending

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Note

I would actually LOVE to read about the proposal! How did it go down? Was Harris there? I think a blurb about that would be really special :)

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: A lazy Sunday morning turns into something much more special, thanks to your two favorite guys.

Warnings: pretty much none, just proposal fluff and a smidge of suggestive language at the end

WC: 1.3k

A/N: The proposal/Harris calling Ms. Sweetheart "mommy" was also requested by @hippiefairy02, @cheesewritings, @enam3l, @peachysink, and a handful of anons!

March 1998

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

Harris’s soft voice doesn’t carry over the sounds of running water and the sponge squelching soap bubbles along the lip of a coffee mug, the remnants of a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. He clears his throat and tries again, tugging on the back of your bathrobe as he shouts.

“Ms. Sweetheart?!”

You jump, pulled from your own thoughts, nearly dropping the cup among the sea of dishes cluttering the sink. Eddie had made scrambled eggs and toast for the three of you; a gesture you’d thoroughly enjoyed until you realized that the clean-up fell on your shoulders.

“Jeez, Har. What’s the emergency?” You catch your breath, allowing your heart rate to settle back to a normal rhythm, and shut off the faucet.

Harris wrinkles his nose, the bridge creasing in confusion. “There’s no ‘mergency,” he says, releasing his grasp and motioning for you to follow him. “I gotta show you something.”

You oblige with a soft laugh, haphazardly grabbing a dish towel to wipe the suds from your hands and wrists, and let him lead you to the kitchen table. Crayons are strewn across it, blues and purples and reds intermingled around his artwork.

“Whatcha drawing?” you ask, hands bracing the back of the chair he’s plopped down on. You peer over his shoulder and smile. It’s a picture of you, Eddie, and him. A full-fledged kindergartener, he’s been adding more details to his stick-figure family portraits: a vase of wildflowers sits atop a sienna oval table, black squares and rectangles above it represent the various photo frames hanging on the kitchen wall. This picture looks different than Harris’s usual set-up; he typically draws himself in the middle of you and Eddie, each of his hands overlapping yours and his dad’s. Today, he’s drawn you, then Eddie, then him. And your hands aren’t linked; instead, he’s used a silver crayon to place something in Eddie’s cartoon palm.

You furrow your brows and gesture towards the mystery object. “What’s that, Har?” It’s better not to guess, lest you say the wrong thing and inadvertently offend him. Just last week, you’d asked him if a small blue object in the sky was a bird, and he was on the verge of tears trying to explain that it was a UFO.

“Can’t you see the alien?” he’d wailed, pointing to a little green dot you’d assumed was a rogue eye.

Now, Harris grins. “It’s a proposing ring!” he announces. “That’s why you’re smiling so big!” Sure enough, the curved line of sketch-you’s mouth extends to both cheeks.

Real-you can’t help but mimic the beaming expression. Just the idea of Eddie proposing to you has you feeling giddy. You’d marry him tomorrow if you could; all he has to do is ask. Though your pulse quickens at the thought, you don’t want to build up Harris’s hopes for something that may not happen for a while. Pressing a kiss to his scalp with a soft giggle, you remark, “A proposing ring? That’s so silly!”

“Is it?”

The unexpected sound of Eddie’s voice has you whirling around, startled for the second time this morning. He’s still wearing his pajamas, flannel pants perfectly complementing your own cozy attire. He bites the inside of his lip, and when he takes your hand in his, you can feel it tremble slightly.

“Sweetheart, I…” he starts, trying to remember the speech he had rehearsed an absurd amount of times. He clears his throat before speaking again. “Sweetheart, I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night grateful for you. Never in my life did I think I would find someone who loved me the way you do; someone who loves my son like he’s their own.” He chokes up at the last part, blinking back the tears so he can press on. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe I landed such an incredible, thoughtful, beautiful woman.”

You offer a small laugh, slightly easing his nerves, and he manages to smile. “You…you’re the love of my life, and my world is infinitely better with you in it,” he continues, pulling a small velvet-covered box from his pocket and sinking onto one knee. With shaky fingers, he opens the box to reveal a princess-cut diamond on a thin silver band. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, my god.” Elation and disbelief simultaneously surge through you, eyes going misty as the realization hits you. Eddie’s actually proposing. He wants you to be his wife, and he wants to be your husband. “Yes, Eddie. Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” You’re laughing and crying, tears streaming down your cheeks; you sloppily wipe them away with the back of your hand.

Eddie stands up, the ring still in its case. You expect him to slide it onto your fourth finger; instead, he turns to Harris with a knowing expression. “Your turn, Har.”

Before you can question it further, Harris takes your hand in his, just like Eddie had. “Ms. Sweetheart,” he looks up at you with wide, exuberant eyes, “will you be my mommy?”

You scoop him up into your arms; he’s almost too tall for you to do it comfortably, and it pangs at your heart. “Yes, I will be your mommy, Harris!” You kiss his cheek with an exaggerated mwah, placing him back on the ground as he excitedly kicks his feet.

With that, Eddie puts the engagement ring on your finger triumphantly, pulling you in for a hug that squeezes the breath out of your lungs. His lips find yours without hesitation, kissing you as long as Harris will allow before the kid becomes impatient.

“Mommy?” The title rolls off of his tongue so easily, bringing with it fresh batches of tears for both you and Eddie. Mommy. You’re Harris’s mommy. The close bond you’ve already developed strengthens in that moment, and you vow to wear your badge of Chosen Mom with pride.

“Yeah, Har?”

“Can we celebrate with ice cream?”

“It’s, like, 9:30 in the morning,” Eddie laughs, scrunching his nose. “I don’t even think Scoops Ahoy is open yet.”

Harris pouts but ultimately relents, on one condition. “Then…can we go when it opens?”

You look at Eddie, who delivers his seal of approval with a quick nod. “I think that can be arranged.”

As Harris cheers, you sneak a glimpse of the new jewelry adorning your finger. It daintily sparkles even under the kitchen lighting, a perfect depiction of your love for one another.

Eddie’s hands snake around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “How’d I do?” he asks with a goofy, lopsided grin. “Is my future wife happy with her ring?”

You turn around, draping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his, desperate for a moment of intimacy. “I love it. And I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“And me?” pipes up a little voice.

“Both of you,” you amend with a giggle. Pleased with your answer, Harris returns to his crayons and construction paper.

Eddie’s voice is a melodic whisper in your ear. “After our family ice cream date, maybe you and I can celebrate a bit more privately?” You can practically hear his teasing smirk at the raunchy implication.

“We can pick up champagne on the way home,” you murmur back, heat blossoming in your belly. You’re no longer just a girlfriend, but a fiancée, a future wife, and there is nothing else you crave more than the touch of your future husband.

And while you and Eddie finish washing the dishes with a plethora of stolen kisses, Harris picks up a green crayon and titles his drawing, just like he’d learned in art class:

Mommy, Daddy, and Harris.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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spideybatsy · 6 months ago

Text

Late Night | Chapter two

Summary: GN!Reader gets a cleaning job working at Wayne Enterprises when a certain billionaire playboy develops an obsession with them. Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader WC: 2.4K Warnings: Although the reader is GN, they have female anatomy. With that clear - female and male masturbation (at different times), a bit of exhibitionism, and a blowie. Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3 I have never written smut before, so I hope it's enjoyable! Masterlist

Working for Wayne Enterprises had been going surprisingly well. Despite originally taking the job to make rent, you feel like you've settled right in. Your coworkers often invite you out on the weekends and you really enjoy spending time with them. Russell, the security guard downstairs, continues to chat you up when your shifts overlap. Even though he’s your type, you just aren’t interested in him and you’re not sure why.

Okay, you know exactly why. It’s the exact same reason why you’re enjoying work so much.

Bruce has been in almost every day you have, always taking the time out of his busy schedule to stop and talk with you. You’ve seen the magazines and tabloids about him but the real man is nothing like they say. Sure, he’s charismatic and incredibly good looking but he’s also hilarious and affectionate.

Like, you haven’t had to bring dinner in since that fateful night a month ago. He either brings you into his office to eat with him or leaves something for you in the fridge. When it started happening you were worried about your coworkers being irritated by the blatant favouritism. Sure, the office was almost empty that late but you didn't want a target on your back. When you brought it up with Bruce, he responded with a simple, “I’ll deal with it.” Meal vouchers have been passed out since.

Coming into the kitchen, you were pleasantly surprised to find Bruce making coffee.

“Interesting,” you comment as you walk in.

Bruce hums, raising his eyebrows questionably.

“I didn’t know you knew how to,” you gesture at him.

“Make coffee?” He sounds borderline offended. “Of course I can. What do you think I am?”

“A billionaire with a butler at his beck and call.” You shrug playfully, “but what would I know?”

“More than most.” His deep voice does something to you.

A smile creeps up his face as he moves closer to you, towering over your shorter frame. You never really noticed how… big and strong he is. Sturdy. You could climb him like a-

Heat rises to your cheeks and you hope he doesn’t notice but he does. He always does. Rushing past him, you look away and start to fill the sink, trying to collect yourself.

“I’m going to the ballet this weekend,” he pauses for a moment, panic flashing through his eyes. “Would you lik-”

“Hey, I’ve been thi-” Emily stops short. “Oh, I didn’t see you Mr Wayne. Sorry.”

“No need to apologise,” Bruce’s business voice rears its head and you can’t help but look at him. He’s not smiling anymore and he looks almost irritated. “I was just about to head out anyway, have a good evening you two.”

His eyes meet yours and for a moment, they soften, his lip twitching up. Then he’s gone, leaving you two alone in the kitchen.

“I don’t think he knows my name,” Emily whispers, bringing her dirty cup over.

“I’m sure he does,” you laugh.

“I’m just saying, he never took me out for lunch.”

You grin as you take the cup from her. “Maybe he was just avoiding you.”

“Maybe he just wants to see the good looking cleaner.”

Your smile softens, as you plunge your hands into the dishwater. “I think he just needed a friend. Someone who sees him as more than Mr Wayne.”

“And you’re that friend?” She stops and looks at you.

“I don’t know,” you pause. “I hope so.”

She glances at you, “And what if he wants more than that?”

“More friends?” You ask mindlessly, hands scrubbing at the cup.

“Don’t be obtuse.”

You take a moment to really think, even though you know the answer. Everyone seemingly knows the answer. You’re not oblivious to the knowing looks that follow you everywhere you go.

Bruce leans on the wall outside the door, the two of you ignorant to his eavesdropping. He’s waiting with bated breath, desperate for confirmation that you feel half as attracted to him as he is to you.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bruce can’t help but grin at Emily’s response. “Do you want to fuck him or not?”

“Of course I want to fuck him,” you blurt out.

Bruce barely holds back a groan as his trousers suddenly grow tight.

“Mmm, he does have the face of a god,” Emily comments.

You hum, continuing to wash up.

“I bet his dick is-”

“As big and bulky as him,” you interrupt.

Bruce can’t contain the sharp breath that leaves his lips, so loud it echoes off the walls. Before either of you can react, he hurries down the hallway and into his office, practically slamming the door.

You drop the cup into the sink, the water splashing your shirt.

“Oh my God,” Emily’s hands are against her mouth. “Do you think that was him?”

“I-I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I hope not.”

“It might’ve been Fox.” She tries to reason, “he’s always here late.”

“He called in sick today.”

Emily swears under her breath, pacing through the kitchen.

“You need to go into his office.”

“Me!” You yelp, pointing at her, “why should I have to go? You’re the one who started the conversation!”

“But you’re his friend,” she throws your previous statement back in your face. “He actually likes you!”

You huff and turn your back on her, thinking through your options. Someone needs to go and talk to him, squash it down before it turns into a big mess. Plus she’s not wrong, you’re definitely closer to him than she is.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I lose my job, I’ll kill you.”

“Deal.” She nervously follows you to the door, the two of you peaking your heads out to look at the ominous office at the end of the hallway. Her hand comes up and pats you on the back “Good luck.”

—

God, he hasn’t been this horny since he was a teenager. Bruce has always had immaculate control, especially over something as trivial as his body.

Yet here he is, fly down and cock in hand as he violently pumps to the memory of your words. You’d said it so quickly, effortlessly even. How often have you thought about his dick? Did you touch yourself while you did?

He’s mid-stroke when he hears the gentle tapping against his office door. He ignores it for a moment, continuing as he replays your words in his head. Big and thick. Was that your preference?

“Bruce, please.”

Your words stop him dead in his tracks. He considers putting himself back in his pants but he’s so swollen it’s borderline painful.

Carefully, he pulls his chair closer to his desk. Now there’s no way you could see what he’s doing under there. Giving his girth one final squeeze, he places his hands firmly on the desk and calls you in.

His eyes immediately catch on the wet spots on your shirt, sticking to the tiniest bits of skin.

“Bruce, I-I’m so sorry-”

“What for?” He cuts you off.

“For what I said in the kitchen, I was just joking.” He can see the blood rush to your cheeks, your eyes suddenly studying his hands.

Your name rolls off his tongue, “Look at me.”

The anxiety in your eyes is palpable as they meet his. Guilt suddenly floods his chest, almost drowning him in the tidal wave. How could he be doing this when you’re so upset? He should be comforting you, not stroking his dick to the thought of you.

“It’s fine, honestly.” He tries a gentle smile. “All you did was boost my already enlarged ego.”

“Y-Yeah?” Your eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Oh yeah, you could say my ego is big and bulky.”

His chest warms at your surprised laugh, “I’m so embarrassed.”

He reaches out for you, making sure to use his untainted hand to hold your own.

“You already have lots of embarrassing blackmail material for me, I think it’s only fair.”

“Thank you.” You smile and take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

“No problem,” he returned the smile and squeezes. “Now get back to work, I wouldn’t want to reprimand you.”

Bruce can’t help but stare at your ass as you walk out of his office, closing the door behind you. Waiting a minute to make sure the coast is clear, he pushes his seat back and looks at himself. His head is red and angry, leaking precum down his designer suit.

As bad as he feels, he can’t endure it any longer. He thrusts into his hand, hips angling until he’s biting back moans and cumming into a tissue.

—

There’s something peaceful about being alone in the office, especially in the middle of the night. Even the bustling city seems sleepy beneath you, everything muffled and far away. You don’t miss the big bat symbol amongst the clouds, it’s on almost every night. Although you hope you’ll never need his help, knowing he’s there always brings you comfort.

Bruce’s office is the only one left to clean and then you’re cleared to go home. You can’t help but chuckle as you remember what happened in this office only an hour ago. It seemed silly to be so stressed, of course he was going to take it in his stride.

But, if you’re being honest, you’re a little disappointed that he brushed it off. Part of you hoped he’d take you words for what they were and make a move. That was just wishful thinking. Bruce could have anyone he wanted, so why would he settle for you?

Something falls out of Bruce’s bin while you’re emptying it, landing right in front of you feet. Without thinking, you pick it up to throw it away. It’s squishy texture catching your attention. You don’t know why, but you feel compelled to open it.

It’s full of pale white goo, it almost looks like…

Warmth that floods through your nether region. This is recent. He must’ve done this just before he left, which was minutes after you talked. Was this because of you?

Your breath quickens and you find yourself sitting back on his chair. Was he playing with his cock in this very chair? Was he hard in his pants while you came in and begged for his forgiveness?

Your hand slowly slides past your waistband and beneath your underwear, fingers rubbing slow circles against your clit. Breathy moans pass your lips as you draw the circles tighter, picking up the pace. Grasping the tissue, you close your eyes and visualise Bruce sitting in this chair, cumming to the thought of you.

You hip rock against your hand, begging for more as you moan out his name. You cum quicker than ever before, hand continuing but softening its movement to draw out your orgasm.

In an almost hypnotic state, you stop and take a moment to catch your breath. You slowly open your eyes, a sense of euphoria coursing through you.

A cock stands to attention right in front of you, it’s head a breath away from your lips.

“Open your mouth, beautiful.” Bruce rumbles.

Your mouth opens as you look up at him through your lashes. His eyes are hooded as he looks back, tongues peaking out to lick his lips.

He hums, bringing his length to rest against your bottom lip.

“I’m going to put my cock in your mouth, baby.” His voice is so deep, you can almost feel the vibration. “And you’re going to suck it like a good little whore, aren’t you?”

You nod, core feeling like molten fire. He smiles, slowly pushing his head into your parted lips. You suck on it, enjoying the taste of his salty pre-cum. His moan echoes through the room, hands fisting at his sides.

He slowly thrusts in and out, inching his way further into your mouth. You’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing but his groans say you are.

Turns out you weren’t far off the mark when you said he was big and bulky. His member is hot and heavy against your tongue.

Without thinking, you reach out and take his hand in yours. His breath stutters before he intertwines your fingers.

“You’re so good for me,” his voice is rougher than you’ve ever heard it. “I’ve been thinking about these lips for months.”

Your mind temporarily notes that you’ve only known each other for a month but the thought rushes away as he pushes far enough to hit your gag reflex. Your other hand automatically comes up to rest on his thigh as you push back. He throws his head back as his free hand comes down to grasp your hair. He pulls at it, yet doesn’t push you any further down. You moan as your scalp burns, the vibration running up his dick.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” Pride swells in your chest, you’re going to make the Prince of Gotham cum. “You want it in your mouth, baby?”

You hum, which drives him even wilder. The sounds leaving his mouth are otherworldly and you can feel your own slick pooling in your underwear. His thrusts come to a stop as his cum rushes into your mouth. It tastes better than you thought it would, salty yet sweet.

You swallow without thinking about it, looking up at him through hooded eyes. His face is flushed, mouth open in a perfect O. You think this might be the first time you’ve seen him dishevelled. You love it.

He slowly pulls back, saliva lines bridging the gap as he does. His eyes are glassy as he tucks himself in and slowly lowers to his knees, his hand still intertwined with yours. His free hand travels up your thigh, coming to play with your button.

“What are you doing?” You murmur, eyes focused on the rapid rising and falling of his chest. He stares down at your waistline, a post-orgasmic sheen coating his gaze.

“Repaying the favour.”

Your free hand stops him, causing him to look up at you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You insist.

Bruce recognises the panic that starts to swell in your chest, immediately pulling his hand away.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is soft, eyes starting to clear.

“I-I-'' you fail to actually say anything before jumping from your seat. “My shift is over, I’ve got to go.”

Bruce says your name as he squeezes your hand. “Please, just speak to me.”

“I need you to leave me alone, right now.” You pull your hand from his before rushing out of the office, leaving Bruce alone on his knees.

Taglist: @so-uncute

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daengtokki · 1 year ago

Text

𝐵𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 9.7k

rating: fluff -`♡´-

Part 1 of 4 5

MASTERLIST

˚☽˚.⋆

The lines around his mouth deepen. His hand jumps up to cover it as his lips finally break open to make way for a tiny laugh. He replaces his hand with his coffee cup, sipping around a shy smile. “Thank you.” But he shakes his head a little when he says it.

You catch a glimpse of the braces he’s instinctively trying to hide.

/ / /

It’s half-past eight and you’re already an hour behind. Work got hectic, and then the surprise meeting really threw you off balance. Tonight is not the best night for a date. A blind date, actually, set up for you with nothing but love and the very best of intentions in mind by your friend and co-worker. And if you’re being honest with yourself, one of the only close friends you’ve made since moving far from home. She’s your best friend, really. Choonhee even helped you find your job here in Korea.

Now that you think about it, maybe this whole date idea was to take some of the weight off of her. The two of you spend most of your time together. She teaches you how to cook all of your favorite dishes, helps you keep your finances in order. She’s always there when things get a little too overwhelming. You don’t blame her for wanting to find you more friends.

You feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket.

“Please please also be running behind,” You mumble to yourself.

Meet him at the cafe in an hour

A sigh of relief. You look at yourself in the mirror. Time to shower. Time to overthink what you’re going to wear.

It’s just a casual thing, she said. No dressing up. Just wear what I’d wear if I were hanging out any other time with any other friend. That really didn’t make things easier, though. You try to remember what she did tell you about your date, but it wasn’t much:

Tall, but not too tall. ‘Taller than you’ is what she said, actually. Nice eyebrows. Kind of a smart ass if you know him well enough. He’s funny…she really emphasized the fact that he has an interesting sense of humor. His hair is currently blond, or it was the last time she saw him. ‘He looks cute blond’, also her words. And ‘he did it for work’.

What does that even mean? You didn’t bother getting any other information out of her. It’s going to be uncomfortable and awkward no matter how much you know, but you forgot to ask how well he spoke English. It doesn’t matter now. You just hope there’s enough overlap in language to make it through an hour or so.

____

At 9:40 (you’re late) you jump out of your taxi and try to orient yourself. You’ve been here before, but not much, and not lately. And it’s busy because of the holiday. You suddenly regret every decision you’ve made today. Maybe it’s not too late to cancel and get yourself back home and under the blankets.

Buzz buzz

Are you there? He’s waiting near the door, but didn’t want to go in without you because it’s a little busy

Oh, that’s kinda nice. At least he’s thoughtful. Or maybe he’s just anxious. Your heart is still beating out of your chest and you can feel how hot your cheeks are despite the chilly air. You start your walk toward the cafe, about a half a block down. There are far too many people loitering on the sidewalk; waiting for rides, talking in tight little groups, phones out and taking videos of friends. You squeeze yourself through until you get to the tables set up outside. Also full of people.

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath. Seven seconds in, five out. Right? It helps a little, so you open your eyes and take a cautious look around. There are so many people that could potentially be him, so you try to filter out the blonds. There are a lot of kinda tall blonds, but only one by himself. And he isn’t really blond. This guys hair is a light soft brown. The way the warm lights bounce off of it does make it look lighter, though.

He’s right by the outer doors of the cafe, back against the wall with one foot flat against it. His raised knee is swinging back and forth like a metronome. He’s bobbing his head a little as he stares down at his phone. It lights up his face, but most of it is covered with a black mask. And then, almost as if he feels your eyes on him, he looks up and right at you. His hair bounces down around his eyes a bit, and he shakes his head until he gets it out.

You hold the eye contact, but you forget how to react normally for a moment. You assume she told him about you and a little about your appearance, so…

He puts his phone in his pocket and waves, a little reluctantly, a little unsure. You’re not the only foreigner here, and definitely not terribly distinctive looking. But you’re certain you’re looking at the right person.

You wave back and smile.

He stands up straight and takes a few steps toward you, hands in the pockets of his jacket now. He takes them out almost immediately, though. Maybe he’s nervous, too.

He nods to you. His hand combs through his hair, but it bounces back exactly how it was before he touched it. “You’re late.”

You blush a little and your heart is thumping again. The mask is making it difficult to read him. That’s not how you were expecting him to greet you, and you really weren’t expecting somebody that looked like him

“I’m kidding…I’m kidding.” Now you can hear the lightness in his voice. It’s almost melodic, the way he speaks. He pulls at his mask a little to adjust it. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”

“Oh!” You try to hold his eyes with yours, but his gaze is a little intense. “Okay good…yeah it’s a little crazy out tonight.”

“It is busy,” he agrees with a little nod. “But we can go inside if it’s not too crowded for you. To get warm.”

His hands are back in his pockets again.

“Yeah, if you’re good, I’m good.”

It’s almost too warm inside the cafe, but it’s roomy, thankfully. The large amount of people are spread out nicely. The lights are turned down low, and the atmosphere is almost bar-like. The biggest difference is the smell of coffee and the soft voices. The music is familiar; something you would listen to in your free time.

He waits for you to catch up. You fall behind without realizing as you adjust to your surroundings.

“It’s nice in here,” he says, “what do you like to drink?”

“Just a regular latte.”

“That’s all?”

You nod at him, and he orders for both of you. It’s a good opportunity to see him in the brighter lights here at the counter. His long legs are in a pair of well fitting (but not too tight) black jeans, cuffed just enough that you see a bit of his ankle peeking above his white and tan sneakers. His jacket is light blue denim, and the hoodie underneath is white.

He half turns to look at you, and his eyes narrow in a way that let you know he’s smiling. It sets off butterflies in your stomach. You’ve barely spoken to him and you haven’t even seen his whole face, yet here you are, feeling like you’re falling.

“They’ll bring our drinks to us. We can find somewhere to sit.” He waves you toward him, and you follow as he leads you to the most out of the way table he can find. You’re thankful for the semi-privacy here.

There’s not much time to start a conversation, but you look at each other briefly. His gaze is a little intense from above his mask, but soft. His eyes are big and shiny, and he doesn’t look away from you. It feels like he’s searching for something to say.

A few moments later, a young girl arrives with two drinks. When she walks off again, he finally takes off his mask. Carefully he unhooks it from one ear, then the other, and folds it neatly into his pocket.

He’s better looking than you were expecting.

The smell of fresh coffee and the look in his eyes makes you feel a little…woozy. You wonder if he looks at everyone like this. It’s getting so warm in the cafe. You shake yourself out of your top layer before wrapping your hands around the warm mug.

Your force yourself to look up at him again. “Choonhee told me almost nothing about you. She didn’t even get your hair color right.”

“To be fair, I change it often.” He lifts his straw to his lips. Iced coffee. “She told me a lot about you.”

“Yeah? What did you she tell you? I may have to correct a few things.”

“No,” he laughs and shakes his head. “She said you were…nice, cute, funny, smart.”

You try not to dispute his ‘cute’ claim. Either he means it or he’s just being nice. Both are fine right now. “She did mention that we have similar personalities, but I don’t know exactly what she meant.”

“I think she must have a type when it comes to friends.”

His English is nice; very smooth. Only occasionally does he make a mistake with cadence. But it’s hardly noticeable. His voice is sweet and soft, and very soothing to your ears. You hope he keeps talking all night. Things will go much easier for you that way.

“She told me you were kind of a smart ass.”

Seungmin laughs at that, throwing his hand over his mouth when he does. “Only if you deserve it.” He drops his hand back to the table and then around his drink

The two silver rings he’s wearing glint a little in the light. One is thin and plain, the other is much wider, and the shape is a repeating row of G’s. You somehow recognize that G. It’s a Givenchy G.

“Is this real or a knockoff?” Gently, you take his hand in yours to get a closer look, and then realize how silly of a thing that was. Sometimes you forget to show restraint. You’re very American.

He doesn’t pull away, though. He doesn’t seem to mind you taking his hand in yours without warning. “It’s real. It was a gift.”

“Silver looks good on you.”

“Thank you.” He drops his eyes from you to your hands still clasped together. He says nothing, just waits until you let go to pull back.

“Oh…gift, that reminds me.” He digs in the pocket of his denim jacket and pulls out something small and white. Before handing it to you, he looks it over and smiles. “It’s silly, but I got you this...”

“You brought me something?”

Seungmin nods and passes it across the table. When you grab it, it’s soft and fuzzy. It’s a keychain. You’re definitely blushing and you’re 100% certain he can see the pink rising up from your neck and into your cheeks.

“I don’t know if you have a favorite, but Choonhee said you like dogs. I like dogs, too. Pochacco is my favorite.”

“Thank you, Seungmin.” You stare down at Pochaccos face and squeeze him. Then you hook him onto the keys hanging from your bag. You keep holding onto him, though.

He smiles again, much bigger than before. And this time he doesn’t cover his face with his hand. You see his braces this time, and it makes you smile. You obviously shouldn’t stare, but it’s hard not to. They look cute on him.

An oooh comes out in a whisper and you didn’t mean it to, but it’s out there now. You can’t take your eyes off of his mouth, and now you’re wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“Oh…uhm.” Seungmin keeps smiling, but now his lips are back together. “Did she tell you I still had my braces?”

“No, she didn’t mention it.” You lean into the table more so you’re closer to him. It’s not a very big table. “She told me very little, I guess she wanted me to be surprised.”

“Hopefully no…bad surprises.”

“Nothing bad yet.”

The smile on his face becomes a little more reserved, but it’s still very much there. “How is your coffee…are you hungry?”

“It’s good,” You pick it up and take a sip. He’s been too distracting…you can’t even remember if you’ve taken a drink yet. “I am a little hungry, but I’m not much of an eater on dates. I’m usually too nervous.”

Seungmin nods, seeming to understand your reasoning. “Please let me know if you change your mind. We can get something.”

You nod back, “so how do you know Choonhee?”

“She used to work with me, where I work now.”

“Oh, where do you work?”

He seems to hesitate for a moment, look around, fidget with his drink. Then he looks at you again. “I work for JYP Entertainment.”

He works at one of the biggest entertainment companies in South Korea. And Choonhee worked there, too.

“I had no idea she used to work there.” You sit back in your chair and fold your arms over your chest. “That’s kind of a big change from what she does now.”

Seungmin nods, “in atmosphere, maybe. She was a tutor. You are a teacher, yeah?”

You nod, “yes, I teach English. Sometimes music, as a substitute.”

The table shakes a little as he moves closer. He can’t get much closer, unfortunately. “You teach music?”

“Not often, but yes. I take it you like music?”

“Yes, very much. Do you sing?

“Yeah, a little.”

There’s a little smirk on his lips as he finishes off the last bit of iced coffee. He shakes the remainder of his ice as he stands. “I’m going to find the restroom, I’ll be back.”

Before he leaves, he shakes himself free of his denim jacket and hangs it neatly across the back of his chair. You nod and watch him walk away. It’s difficult to keep your eyes off of him, but as soon as he disappears into the restroom, you pull out your phone. It’s buzzed three times since you’ve been here.

Have fun!!

Did you find him?

You don’t have to answer these btw, I’ll assume you haven’t answered because you found him and immediately fell in love

You unlock your phone and begin typing a response. “Yes, we found each other.” Send. You think for a moment, but her reply comes through before your next message.

Well!?

“He’s cute.”

You’re gonna fall in love, just give it a minute

From the corner of your eye you see him walk by the table. You look at him; he looks at you and waves, but his mask is back on. You think for the smallest moment he’s skipping out, but he’s only heading to the counter again. You watch him and your phone at the same time.

Buzz buzz

He likes you

Oh, he must have sent Choonhee a message in the restroom. He likes you. You’ve barely known each other thirty minutes, so he can’t possibly like you that much. But you like him, so maybe he does…

He returns with two small plates and sets one of them in front of you. The other is his. “I heard they have very good pastries here, so I thought we should try one.” He removes his mask and goes for a taste.

You pick yours up and carefully tear it in half. It’s filled with chocolate. “Oh, did you get the chocolate one, too?”

As he’s biting into it and making a mess, he nods. The flakes stick to his lips as he chews, and he carefully tries cleaning them off, but it’s a challenge. It’s cute. You can’t help but think of going over there and cleaning him off yourself. But you shake away the thought and stop staring.

——

“Seungmin…” he hands you your fresh coffee and leads the way out of the crowd. It’s dwindled a bit, but not by much. “It’s a nice name.”

“It’s so common, but I guess that’s not really a bad thing.”

“You look like a Seungmin.”

“Oh, is that a good thing?” He laughs.

You mmhmm him through your sip of coffee and purposely brush against his arm. He gave you his denim jacket to wear. You told him you weren’t cold, and it was no big deal, but you’re secretly grateful you have it around you. His scent is subtle on it; it’s nice.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you look up at him, but you can’t see well in the dim light. You can just make out the silhouette of his nose and mouth and chin. He licks his lips after another sip of coffee. “It’s nice here.”

You walked from the cafe and ended up at the edge of a large public park. It’s lit up and cozy, but a little chillier now that it’s gotten much later. There are still plenty of people milling around, though, mostly couples and groups of teenagers, but it’s not too crowded.

There are seats and tables here, so he leads you to a spot under some decent lighting and a working outdoor heater. It’s comfortable enough, but mostly it’s nice having him more to yourself. He’s looking down at his hands as they spin his coffee cup. A hot one this time.

Big dark eyelashes hide his eyes from you. Lips are closed tight like, he’s deep in thought. He looks at you then, as if he feels you watching. The lights makes them look wet, like maybe he could cry at any moment. But his cheeks lift as he smiles. His lips stay closed tight, but the corners of his mouth twitch a little as he fights an even bigger smile.

He feels familiar, but you can’t figure out why. Maybe you’ve seen him before. He’s the kind of good looking you’d see on tv or in a magazine, but he also looks like your cute childhood crush all grown up. So now you suddenly wonder what business you have being in front of him. Did Choonhee really think this was a good blind date?

Maybe for you. Seungmin could probably have anyone he wanted.

“You’re very handsome.”

You catch a glimpse of the braces he’s instinctively trying to hide.

“How long have you been here in Korea?” He asks. He can’t keep them hidden while he talks. Well, he could, but you’re sure he’s aware of how silly it would look if he held a hand over his mouth for the entire date.

“Two years…not very long,” you keep yours eyes on his eyes…or on his hands as they fidget with his cup. “I think your English is better than my Korean.”

“Is it?” Seungmin raises his eyebrows, and his face lights up. He bites down on the corner of his lip, making your eyes wander to the metal glint when he flashes his teeth. “Thanks.” He rubs a little at his mouth, probably fighting the habit of covering it again.

You want to tell him to relax; that his braces don’t distract from the rest of him

Seungmin sits up a bit and looks around. A few people have walked by since you sat down, but not many. There’s music playing from somewhere nearby, but you can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s a soft song you’ve heard many times on the radio at work.

You want him to tell you everything he can about himself, but you don’t want to scare him off. It’s been less than two hours, but you can already feel yourself attaching—falling for him—doing what you always do with anyone who gives you the type of attention Seungmin is giving you tonight. He’s only had eyes for you all night, but occasionally he looks around and gets quiet…a little uncomfortable.. The first date nerves have mostly subsided for you, but maybe they haven’t for him.

“Are you still hungry? We could find somewhere to eat if it’s not too late.” He seems to be searching your face for an answer before he continues. “If it’s not too late to eat, I mean,” he looks down at the time on his phone, “it’s a little late.”

It’s nearly eleven. It is late for you, technically. You’re usually up early, unless you don’t have to be. Maybe he’s an early riser as well.

“It’s not too late, not during the holiday.”

____

Seungmin gets the two of you a ride this time, and you head a few miles closer to the city. There’s so much space between you in the backseat of the car, but he has his body turned toward you as he speaks. He seems to be texting on his phone between your conversation, but it’s the first time he’s been on it all night, aside from getting the car.

“I go here very often, so they know me.”

Pochacco is in your lap. You fidget with him as Seungmin speaks and types at the same time. “I’m glad you like him.”

____

The mask is back on his face as he leads you toward the restaurant. It looks busy from the outside, but the open design makes everything feel calm and quiet. As you’re standing there waiting, you feel his fingers graze against your hand. Your fingers twitch back against his.

A young man, you assume he is one of the hosts, walks over to you and bows. “We have your table ready for you.” He looks at Seungmin, and then to you before gesturing to follow him.

You walk off to the right and a little further beyond the packed bar. There are a fair amount of people in this slightly more private area, but nobody pays much attention as you follow Seungmin and the host to your table.

“What are you hungry for?” Seungmin removes his mask again. “Everything here is very good.”

“I’m not very picky, and I’ll try anything at least once. As long as there are no intestines.”

“Gopchang is not my favorite, but I have a good friend who makes it very well.”

You scan the menu. There’s a surprising amount of dishes listed. “I think I would like to try whatever your favorite dish is.”

“How do you feel about sharing something?”

It’s a cute suggestion and it catches you by surprise. He keeps doing all of the things that make you feel stupid and in love.

“We can both pick something and share them, or share one dish…if you want.” His smile grows a little as he speaks.

You like watching him become more comfortable as the night progresses. Hopefully your calm is making him calm, because you feel much better now than you have the entire day.

“Yeah, let’s share something.” Whatever makes you feel closer to him. One dish between the two of you is the obvious answer. “We should have your favorite.”

“I hope you don’t like spicy. I can’t do spicy.”

“No, I don’t need spicy. Maybe some kimchi, though. I like to try the kimchi everywhere I go.”

Seungmin smiles at you without holding himself back. “Yeah, we should have some kimchi, and Jjajangmyeon as well.” He nods and picks up his tea, but doesn’t take a drink. Instead he looks at you with curious eyes. The edge of the glass sits lightly against his lower lip.

You feel a little flutter in your chest just from looking at him now. “You should smile like that more often.”

“No,” He says it bluntly but playfully. “Maybe in a few months when they’re finally off.”

A little wave of sadness washes over you, but passes quickly. “You can smile for me, I like it.”

The buzzing of a phone interrupts you, but your eyes linger on his softening face for another few seconds. It’s Choonhee needing an update. You don’t want to be rude and you definitely don’t want to be distracted from working on figuring him out—or making him smile more.

But then another text message dings. It’s not you this time. Seungmin reaches into his pocket and glances quickly at his screen. “Should we answer her?”

____

You only reply to Choonhee’s text after your order has been placed and Seungmin excuses himself from the table.

“Yeah, all good still”

He LIKES YOU

You feel goosebumps break out all over your skin when you read her reply.

“He’s a little bit of a mystery. How did you meet him? Why didn’t I know you used to work at JYPE??”

You send the message, hoping you get an answer before he comes back. But a reply doesn’t pop up until a few minutes after he’s returned and food is brought out to the table.

Seungmin begins splitting the food between the two of you. “You can answer her, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m not worried about it. I’ll text her later.”

It doesn’t hurt to glance down at the message, though. All it says is “Kim Seungmin likes you (ง¬᎑¬)ว”

You give the air in front of you an irritated sigh.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin stops as he’s fixing his food. His brow wrinkles a bit with concern. It’s very cute. “Did I give you too much?”

“No no, I wasn’t sighing at you, Seungmin.” You pick up your chopsticks and situate your food in front of you, but wait for him before you dig into what looks like very good kimchi. “I just…looked at Choonhee’s text. She drives me crazy sometimes.”

“She also drives me crazy. She was very persistent about us meeting each other.”

“She wouldn’t let me say no.”

You both take a bite of food together.

“She’s very lucky it’s a holiday and I could get time away, though she probably would have kept pestering me.” He takes another bite, watching you curiously as you do the same. “Did you want to say no? You didn’t want to come?”

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

He’s funny. “I didn’t, only because I don’t really like blind dates. I don’t like going into anything…blind.”

“That’s understandable. I did want to come, but also I didn’t, because dating for me is difficult and sometimes awkward for the other person. But a while ago I told Choonhee I wanted to make more foreign friends. She doesn’t forget things.”

“Does work keep you very busy?” Now seems like the time to really pry. “Is that why dating is so hard?”

“Work is very busy, yes. I feel like I have to be on 100% of the time, and it can be very exhausting.” He takes a big, messy bite of food, then covers his mouth as he tries not to giggle through it. It takes him a few moments before he can speak again. “That’s one reason why it’s difficult.”

“I am glad I came, though.”

“How is your food?” Just as he asks, the server returns to the table with another plate of food. “Oh, I got us something else.”

“More? I don’t know if I can eat what we have here now.” Your eyes widen at the sight of this new plate of food. “Oh!”

Seungmin laughs and serves you a few pieces of gopchang, “sometimes it takes a few tries before you really appreciate something.”

You gingerly pick up a small piece of intestine and examine it. It jiggles weirdly at the end of your chopsticks. “Okay, so I’ve never actually tried it before.”

“Eat!”

You take the bite, hold it in your mouth for a second, then chew.

“No?”

You swallow hard, then shake your head at him. “No.”

“Well, at least you tried it.” He pulls the plate back toward him and takes a few bites. “Eat some kimchi and get the taste out of your mouth.” He laughs at the grimace still stuck on your face.

“It might take more than that,” but you do, and then a long drink of your tea. Your phone buzzes again.

“Tell her that…we have decided to just spend the remainder of the holiday together. And that she shouldn’t worry about us.”

Your face gets hot, even though he’s definitely just goofing around. When you look up at him he’s calmly eating, looking down at the messages that popped up on his own phone.

“I think she’s having fun with us.”

“This time it’s Chan Hyung checking up on me. He is a worrier.”

“That’s sweet of him. Did you tell him you’re in good hands?”

Seungmin nods and laughs, “I did.” His eyes catch the light and sparkle at you as he leans closer across the table. “He will worry until I’m back home, though.”

“Do you live with him?”

“I’m at my parents house for the holiday, but normally yes. Well, nearby. I have three roommates. And the other four, including him, live together. But basically we all live together.”

Each time you ask him a question, the answer makes you a little more confused than if you hadn’t asked anything at all. You sit back in your chair and let out a long sigh, fold your arms across your chest. “That’s a lot of roommates.”

“I’m so used to it, we’ve been together for a while now.”

“I’m gonna run to the restroom, I’ll be back.” You grab your bag and your phone. Seungmin gives you a nod.

Once you manage to find the bathroom, you have a seat on one of the squishy chairs and pull your phone back out. Choonhee’s last text message is still on your lock screen…

Kim Seungmin likes you (ง¬᎑¬)ว

You start typing…

"I can’t seem to figure him out. He’s so sweet and easy to talk to, but why is everything about him so…"

So what? You’re not even sure where this message is going.

"…he’s different?? He’s TOO sweet, too good looking. Help me out here."

Now you wait for a reply, hoping she’s glued to her phone so you’re not stuck in here for too long. Two girls, maybe a little younger than you, walk in while you wait, and both look at you directly as they pass by. One lingers on you and heads to the mirror to fix her makeup, the other disappears into a stall. You keep your eyes on your phone, but you still see her watching you from the corner of your eye.

Buzz buzz

Why are you so paranoid? You better trust me.

You push the call button and wait for her to pick up.

“Annyeeoong!”

“I am not paranoid! You threw me into this and now you’re picking on me.”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pick on you!” She laughs, though.

“Every time I ask him something, I’m more confused,” you lower your voice as the two girls walk by and leave the bathroom.

“Did you google him? I gave you his full name.”

“No, I haven’t googled him. Why would I google him? Is that a joke? Who wears designer jewelry and has seven roommates?” You’re whispering, but trying to convey your irritation at the same time.

She laughs again.

“I have to get back out there before he thinks I got lost.”

“I’m glad you two like each other!”

“BYE”

Now all you can think about is figuring out who he is before you lay eyes on him again. But do you want to know now? Maybe later would be best, well after you’re home safe and the pressure is gone. The last thing you want is to make everything awkward.

But you’re very good at making things awkward.

A few seconds later you pull up the browser on your phone and type out his name. Why is she setting you up with someone you can google in the first place?

K i m S e u n g-

You stop and stare at the screen. No clues pop up in the auto search. It’s a very common name, but…

You finish. You hit ‘go’.

It loads quickly, and the first thing that pops up is his face. HIS face. Seungmin’s sweet face. Only his hair is much darker in this photo. But it’s him. The weird feeling of falling hits; you feel a little lightheaded. You thought he was a little odd and a little too good to be true, but this…

“Oh my god, you set me up with an idol.”

Another person enters the bathroom and you jump. They pay no attention to you, thankfully.

“And he’s five years younger than me.”

A deep breath in, and a long slow breath out. You’re back on your feet and out of the bathroom. Can you even remember where your table is? Yes, there it is. You see the back of Seungmins pretty head…he’s on his phone, texting it looks like.

Another nice, deep breath. Why the hell did she set you up with an idol? You’re not surprised you didn’t know who he was, though. You don’t listen to much pop music; even the kids at school haven’t introduced you to this particular group. The name doesn’t sound familiar, anyway. You have a few confiscated photocards in your desk drawer. You’re sure he’s not one of them, but you can’t wait to get back to school and check now.

You walk back over, calm and cool and not like you were just losing it a little in the bathroom.

“Welcome back!” He smiles as you sit and puts his phone away.

Now you look at him and realize just how good looking he is. Of course he’s an idol, what else could a face like that be? And he’s a main vocalist. He sings. You…kind of sing.

“So, Seungmin…”

He answers with a soft hmm? as he chews his food.

“Do you sing? Or play anything? You said earlier that you liked music.”

He nods and smiles, swallows his bite, “I sing, yes! And I like playing guitar and piano, but I don’t do that as often as I’d like.”

“I would love to hear you sing.” You say it sincerely, because you mean it. His speaking voice is so nice, you’re certain his singing voice is even more beautiful.

“I would love to hear you sing!” He adjusts himself in his chair like he’s trying to get himself closer to you, but there’s nowhere else to go. His face is somehow brighter. “We should do that…we should sing.”

“You wanna sing with me? I doubt I can sing as well as you.”

“We don’t know that!”

You rest your chin in your cupped hands and smile at him. He smiles, too. You think his smile might be your favorite thing about him. “I do know.” But there’s so many things to like.

“Oh,” his head cocks to the side a bit. Another thing you really like, and he does it a lot. He’s staring through you and it feels like he’s hearing every thought that’s currently flying around your brain. “You know?”

“What I don’t know is…” putting it into the right words is difficult for some reason, and your tone of voice has accidentally come out a little cold. You don’t want to come off as rude or ungrateful of his company. You like him, but it’s suddenly become a little bit weird, and very complicated. “I just don’t feel like we…” you stop again to think. You suddenly feel really stupid for talking at all. “I guess I just don’t understand why you seem to…like me.”

All of your insecurities have suddenly jumped to the front of the line, and it’s clouding your vision. The things you were so happy about before are now being pushed down by your own stupid, stupid thoughts.

“Hm?” Seungmin’s face falls a little. He’s sitting still, and for the first time, he’s stopped eating. He can really put away a lot of food for being so slender. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize, Seungmin. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just having-“

“Second thoughts.” He says it matter-of-factly; no inflection.

Everything you say now is coming out all wrong. The words in your head and the words coming out of your mouth aren’t matching up. Your heart is starting to pound, and you feel warm, but not in a good way. Not in the cute, blushy way Seungmin was making you feel before.

“Would you like me to take you home? I can get us a car. Or I can get you a car.” He wrings his hands and reaches for his phone.

“No, no don’t do that,” Your chest feels tight and your words almost get caught in your throat. You stop and think about your next words, because right now you’re not doing a great job of speaking. “I’m sorry, I’m really not very good at this. Dating, talking to people, getting my thoughts out properly.”

Seungmin puts his phone down on the table, thinks for a moment… “I do like you. But I haven’t been very honest, so I am very sorry for that. I would like to be honest with you, if you’ll stay.”

You look down at your lap and realize you’ve been squeezing Pochacco the entire time. You release him, run your thumb over him. “Yeah, I do wanna stay.”

His face his confused, innocent, and soft all at once as he stares at you. There’s a little concern there, as well. You can tell he’s wondering what happened in the few minutes you left the table. He also might be nervous about telling you who he is.

He clears his throat and takes a drink, preparing himself to tell you what you already know. You hate making him do this here.

“I know you’re an idol. You don’t have to explain anything.”

Relief washes over his face, and then slowly, realization. “Is that why you’re upset? You left the table…you were okay before that. Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I was just trying to figure you out. And I understand why you were hesitant about it.” You keep your voice as soft as possible, as steady as you can manage. You’re not angry at him. How you could you possibly be mad at him while he’s looking at you like that? “Maybe we can go back to before, when I didn’t know...”

“It’s so hard meeting people genuinely…people who don’t already know who you are.”

There’s a long silence between the two of you, and looking up at him again suddenly feels impossible. You stare down at your blank phone, almost hoping a text message will come through. Something needs to break the tension.

Nothing happens.

You almost feel like crying. Your throat tightens and your eyes start to sting from not blinking. “Can we go somewhere else?” The words finally come out of you. “Somewhere with less people.”

“Yeah, we can.”

____

It’s much colder now. And it’s late; well after midnight. You weren’t expecting the date to go on this long. In fact, you had the night planned for yourself once you got home. A few episodes of the drama you’re currently watching, and maybe a drink or two. Warm, under a big blanket.

But now you’re suddenly starring in your own drama.

Seungmin stands in front of you, blocking the slight breeze. You let out a big yawn.

“I’m sorry I’m keeping you out so late.” He steps a little closer when a gust of wind whips by.

“You’re not,” you try to smile at him, but your face feels a little numb. “I can leave whenever I want to, right?”

“Right.” He nods sharply. “Thank you for not leaving.”

“Would it be inappropriate to ask you back to my apartment?”

“Huh?” His mouth hangs open a little.

“I don’t know anywhere else where we could be alone.”

“Uhm, well, it would be a little inappropriate I guess. But I wouldn’t mind if you asked.”

A car pulls up to the curb next to you.

____

The apartment is not ready for any guests, especially not the celebrity variety. You left a mess on your way out—clothes all over the floor, dishes in the sink. But maybe it’s not as bad you’re imagining. This will strictly be a living room visit. And it won’t be long.

“This feels so strange.” He says as the elevator door slides opens on the 5th floor.

“What does? Going home with someone?”

“Yes.” Another blunt answer. His tone is still playful, even after what you’re putting him through. He follows you until you stop in front of your door and fumble with your keys.

You look back at him as you push open the door, “I won’t keep you here long, I promise.”

It’s not as bad inside as you were imagining. You shake his jacket off and hang it above the not-so-neat row of shoes inside the door. Seungmin slides his off and places them next to yours. “I can make you more coffee if you’d like.”

“Sure, if you’d like me to stay that long.”

“Sit.” You point to the couch and head to the kitchen.

Halfway through your work, you notice him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. He watches silently. You pretend you don’t see him. Above you the fluorescent light buzzes and flickers a bit. It’s the only light in the kitchen right now. The warmth of the apartment and the smell of coffee brewing brings you back down to earth a bit, and you desperately need that before you start talking again.

Seungmin speaks up first, though. It startles you.

“I’m not really allowed to date.”

“What?” You take both mugs in your hands and walk closer to him.

“I mean, I am…but they prefer we don’t. At least not for a while. I would probably get in trouble if anyone recognized me while we were together earlier.” He takes his mug from you and holds it under his nose.

“Why?” Your mind snaps back to the girl eyeing you in the bathroom. You didn’t even think about it until now.

“Well, I didn’t get permission, for one thing. And it helps with keeping the idol illusion alive if we’re not seen with others like that.”

“I don’t want to get you into any trouble.”

He waves his hand at you, pushes away your words. “It’s okay. I get into trouble all the time.”

“Do you?”

Seungmin nods and smiles as he sips his coffee.

You grin at him.

Now that you’re alone together, finding the right words might come a little easier. The tv is on, volume low, just to break the dead silence in the room. He’s sitting back comfortably on your couch with his coffee to his lips, and his legs loosely crossed. You can’t help but watch them as his foot bounces.

Meanwhile, he’s looking at you with soft (maybe a little tired?) eyes. “You have me to yourself now.” His voice is a little tired, too. It makes him sound flirty and…well, you don’t wanna think about that too much.

A nod is all you can manage before speaks again.

“I like this one.”

“You like what?”

“This drama. I finished it recently.”

The silence is a little less tense now, but the room still feels heavy. “Did you really come out tonight to find a new friend?” You’re sweating. The heat is probably up too high, you need to open a window or something.

“Did you?” Now he’s sitting up a little and he pushes the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbow.

It’s nice to see more of his skin. “No.” You watch his hands as they rub the denim on his thighs. “I should open a window, it’s a little warm in here.” You can feel his eyes on you as you walk to the other side of the room. It makes you nervous. You push the curtain aside, unlock the window, and slide it up.

The rush of cool air is exactly what you need. Your hear your phone buzz on the side table where you threw it. You pretend you don’t notice it when you get back to his side.

“Choonhee wants you…” he almost sings it. He must know you have no other friends.

You imagine one of the conversations between Seungmin and her; Choonhee would say something to make you sound so great and fun, but you don’t like putting yourself out there and making new friends, so you need little push now and then.

Which is entirely true.

“It’s not her,” you lie, just to throw him off for a moment.

“Oh, is it your next date?” His tone is so flat and dry, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t really think that. Or maybe he’s not sure, and he wants to be sure.

Instead of answering, you just let your eyes linger on his while you pull open your messages.

Well? Are you home yet? Don’t make me worry

”Yes, I’m home. 'Kim Seungmin (ง¬᎑¬)ว' is here too”

Three bouncing dots pop up the second after you hit send. Probably the fastest she’s ever replied to you.

YOU TOOK HIM HOME WITH YOU??!!

And then another…

ԅ(‾⌣‾ԅ)

And more…

( ˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)ε｀●)

◠◡◠(´ ͡༎ຶ ͜ꞈ ͡༎ຶ `)◡◠◡

"OKAY STOP IT", You finally reply

Okay okay sorry but you took him home with you???

”I felt weird asking him, but yes. I also felt weird being out in public when I found out who he was”

OH you knoooow. Okay. Just don’t do anything to him, I kinda forgot to mention he’s a bit younger

”Yeah, I figured that out on my own”

He’s a good boy

”Okay I’m done talking to you tonight”

You throw your phone on the table next to you.

Seungmin readjusts himself so he’s facing in your direction. “Have you watched Hometown Cha Cha Cha?”

There’s far less space between you and him now. His cheeks are pink. It’s still too warm in here.

“I have, yeah. Sorry, I can’t adjust the heat.” You don’t even know why you mentioned the heat. His closeness is throwing you off. You can feel his breath on you.

“I’m okay, this hoodie is just too cozy.” He pushes the sleeves back down and opts for removing it completely. He pulls it off very easily, but the back of his shirt pulls up along with it for a brief moment, showing you a little skin. He catches it quickly and shakes his head to fix his hair.

“I have a song in that one.” He says as he neatly rolls it and places it on the arm of the couch.

“You have a what?” Now you’re distracted my his thin black t-shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders.

He catches you staring at not his face, “a song…in that drama. You heard it I’m sure.”

“Oh, wow…you’re right, I’ve definitely heard you sing, then.” You grab the remote again and scroll until you find YouTube. It takes a stupid long time to load (“you have bad wifi up here” — “thanks, I know”) but once it finally does, you start typing his name into the search bar.

“The song is called Here Always. Your search will be full of lots of other weird things if you only search my name.”

“Oh, how weird?” You search anyway and investigate. “Vlogs…are these official idol vlogs?”

“Yes,” he laughs at that. “I’m filming one right now while on holiday. I didn’t bring my camera with me, though.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t be in your vlog.”

“They’re usually pretty boring anyway.”

You search properly now, throwing the title of the song next to his name. You plan on watching those other videos later.

When you look at him, he has his hands cupped against his cheeks, and he sinks down in the couch a little.

“Are you being shy? You really don’t come off as the shy type.”

“No, I’m fine.” He giggles and relaxes a little.

Now you sit back against the couch, close enough to him that your arms are lightly touching. The video you choose is a clip compilation from the drama, so he at least won’t have to stare at himself as you listen.

Without realizing it, you manage to sink further into your seat as the song plays, and by the time it ends, your cheek is pressed firmly against the fabric on his shoulder. He hasn’t moved, though. So you don’t move. His body is warm and he smells nice, so why should you move? You decide to just stay put and let YouTube choose the next video.

The description says Love Poem, KINGDOM EP8. You can read the names, written in Hangul. Eunkwang, Seungmin, Jongho. You’re pleased with yourself, because your reading comprehension is not as good as it could be.

A soft sigh dances over your ear. You look up, trying not to disturb him too much. Seungmin is sleeping soundly, head back against the couch. You hate to wake him, but he definitely cannot spend the night here.

You want to hear more of his singing, though, so you watch it, and then another, and eventually you lose track of how many Seungmin compilation videos you’ve seen. Group interviews, Seungmin fancams. You almost forget you’re watching videos of the guy who’s sleeping next to you.

But it’s gotten so late. You carefully sit yourself up on your knees and look down on his sleeping face.

“Seungmin…” you whisper. He doesn’t move. His mouth opens a little as he lets out a deep breath, and you can just make out his front teeth against the light pink of his lips. “Seung-“

His eyes open slowly, and he lets out a long, drawn out hmmm before closing his eyes again.

“Hey, you gotta wake up,” you go to place your hand against his forehead, but stop yourself. “Neoneun il-eonaya hae.”

“Your Korean sounds nice,” he opens his eyes again and watches you set your hand back down on the top of the couch. “Say something else.”

You think, not knowing what to say now.” Uh…uhm, neo janeun moseub-i gwiyeowo boyeo.” You speak carefully, maybe a little too carefully, but Seungmin smiles deeply and fully.

And then he laughs a little. A very sleepy laugh. “Gomawo.” He sings out the o at the end little, making it sound even more informal than it should be. “I’m awake. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’m glad you’re comfortable. But maybe next time.”

“Maybe next time?”

“You can stay.”

“I can stay?”

You nod, and a brief moment of boldness runs through you. You pick your hand up again and set it against his forehead, pushing his hair up and out of the way. He lets you touch him without protest, in fact, he seems to relax even more under you.

His eyes close, but after a few second, he opens one a little to look at you. “Well?” He says.

“Well…what?”

“I thought you were going to kiss me.”

Your whole body heats up, and you quietly suck in a breath, but you keep your voice from showing how much that knocked you off balance. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

His head moves back and forth a little like he’s thinking about it, and that forces you hand up further into his hair. “Only if you want to.”

You do, so when he closes his eyes again, you carefully lean in and hover just above his lips. You’re not sure when you’ll see him again after tonight, so you want to take in as much of the moment as possible. His eyes open again, and he stares at you. They slowly move down your face until they find your mouth. You quickly close the space and he returns the kiss eagerly, but very gently.

It lasts much longer than you expect it to. He sits up and cups your cheek in his hand as he finds a better position, but it only lasts a few more seconds after that. He pulls away slowly and wipes at his lower lip as he watches you.

No words come to mind, so you just keep quiet and look at him.

“Was that okay?” Seungmin asks. He’s all braces, and the apples of his cheeks are flushed.

“Yeah, that was okay,” You have to force yourself not to go for his mouth a second time. “I’ve never kissed someone with braces before.”

He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, but he still smiles behind them. “Was it weird?”

“No, it wasn’t.” You lean in, move his hand, and kiss him again.

When you pull apart, he rakes his fingers through his hair and relaxes sideways against the couch so his body is still turned toward you. You quietly look at each other; you wish you could read his mind. All that’s going through your head is that this is it. This is all you get. You probably won’t see him again.

Not that he’d purposely ghost you; he doesn’t look the type. But his lifestyle doesn’t seem to allow for the type of relationship you want. You’re way too clingy for this.

“How often do you come home on holidays?”

“Not often enough,” he looks at you like he now knows what you’re thinking. “I’m sorry.”

You place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. And then a phone goes off.

“Oh it’s me,” Seungmin takes his phone from his back pocket and looks at his screen, “I’m sorry, I have to answer this.”

“It’s alright, go ahead.”

He gets up from the couch and answers the call. You can tell from Seungmins tone and language that whoever it is is older, probably one of his roommates, most likely the same one who texted him hours ago. You try not to pry, but it’s impossible not to listen in this small apartment, and it’s useless to ignore when you’re only getting half of the conversation. Your brain just naturally wants to fill in the rest.

“….mos han geo…mianhae…”

He turns and faces you, gives you a shy smile.

“Na jigeum jib-e ganeun jung-Iya”

A few more exchanged words and he ends the call. He returns to the couch, but doesn’t sit again, so you stand with him. He grabs his hoodie and throws it back on without a word, but he does look at his phone again.

“Do you have a ride home?”

Seungmin smiles warmly at you and steps closer, “yes, I have a ride on the way now.”

You assumed he did. He probably has people ready to wait on him at anytime of the day or night. You assume. Honestly, you have no idea what an idols private life is really like. Except for this date, of course.

“I should head down to the lobby, it shouldn’t take long for them to arrive.”

“Can I go with you? To wait in the lobby, I mean.”

He’s halfway to his shoes when he stops and turns to you, “yes, I would like that.”

____

It’s chilly down here, but it’s empty and quiet. You sit closely together on the sofa while he shows you a video on his phone.

“They always steal my phone for livestreams and videos, so I have so much on here.”

The video was taken by one of the other members in his group, because Seungmin is in this one. They’re backstage goofing off with each other, eating, taking selfies, taking photos of each other.

“When is this from?”

“Three months ago. We were in Busan.” He goes back to his album and pulls up a photo he took of himself and another member. “This is from the same night.”

“I like your makeup here,” you zoom in on his face, and then back out. “You have very pretty eyes.”

He smiles and rubs his shoulder into yours a little.

“Who is this with you?”

“That’s Chan, the one who just called me. He’s our leader, and he takes his responsibility to us very seriously.”

“Well, I’m glad he cares about you so much.”

Just as he locks his phone, a notification comes through. His ride is pulling up in front of the apartment building, and it’s time for him to leave.

“Seungmin…” you stand with him and walk toward the doors. “I know you’re probably very busy, but would it be okay if I kept in touch? And I understand if that wouldn’t work.” You feel very bold just bringing it up, but if he doesn’t, you’ll be left wondering until Choonhee finds out for you. You need to know now.

“I don’t think we’d make very good friends,” he laughs and grabs your arm gently, tugging you a little closer.

You pull him the rest of the way into a hug and hold him there for as long as possible. “We wouldn’t.”

“Goodnight. Thank you for not leaving in the middle of our date.”

You squeeze him a little tighter, thinking about how you’ve never had a first date where you actually had difficulty letting the person leave.

“Wow,” when you finally let him go he stares down at you, “nice hug. I will get your number from Choonhee, and I will text you. If that’s alright.”

“You better.”

“Goodnight.”

He turns, walks through the doors, and disappears into the back of a car. And then he’s gone.

You wait there for a few more moments before heading back up the elevator and into your apartment.

His scent is lingering in the warm room. You close the door behind you and turn to kick off your shoes. His denim jacket is hanging on the hook in front of you.

#skz fluff #skz seungmin #kim seungmin #skz x you #skz fanfic #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fluff

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fashionteahouse · 14 days ago

Text

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: thank you guys for loving up the last twenty parts xoxoxo <<prev >>next

You cried all night. You didn’t even go to sleep because before you knew it, the sunlight was peaking from the sides of the blackout curtains. You had watched the room transition from nighttime to daytime through your tears.

You lay face down in a pillow when a loud knock was heard. You ignored it. You didn’t have the energy to move. It knocked more rapidly and louder. You groaned and kicked your covers off. You swing the door open and Alice looked at you in horror.

“Why aren’t you dressed?!” she says peering at you in a high octave tone. Your wrinkled pajamas was hugged to your body.

You slump your shoulders as she swiftly made her way into your room. Your light was now on and you squint and block the light with your hand.

“You look horrible.” she comments.

“Thanks.” you say sarcastically but quietly because you had no energy left. You even ran out of tears.

She unzipped the plastic bag that held your outfit and laid the handmade clothes on your bed.

“Let’s go. Larry’s not going to stay long.” she says.

After spitting out the toothpaste, you tried your best to wash your face and seen that your eyes showed that you were crying all night. You sit with your arms crossed when you were finally dressed. It fit you perfectly. You crossed your legs since you had on a skirt.

She reaches forward to place concealer under your eyes but you lean back.

“Y/N, you and I both know you look like a zombified mess.” she says.

You sigh as you place your hands on your knee, “I just want to drop this paper off so I can sulk some more.” you say.

Alice does look concerned as she observed your sad face and demeanor. She sets everything down and places her hands on your shoulders.

“I told you it will hurt. You just have to keep pushing. Things are going to lighten up.”

“That’s tough to believe.” you say with a sigh you eventually let her dab on the coverage on your face with her finger.

Alice skips outside with you as you both come out of the hotel. She follows you as you scoot into the car.

“You didn’t have to come.” you say to Edward who is in the backseat as well.

He doesn’t say anything as Alice is now on the opposite side of you, closing the car door shut on her side. His eyes are stuck at what you have on. You decide to stare straight ahead as the driver worked the wheel.

Larry really was only there to stop in, take his messages and leave. He was very pleased to see you as he gladly takes the paper out of your hands.

He tells you with a confident smile, “I think we will be a great team.”

You force a friendly smile and thank him again for the opportunity. As you leave out, you realize it’s been set in stone. There’s definitely no turning back now. You walk in the opposite direction as Edward and Alice.

You just wanted some coffee.

The shop was small and cozy and you were glad that it wasn’t overcrowded.

As the steam rises out of your cup, both hands are placed on either sides of your mug as you peer down at it. Edward chose to follow you, sitting down across from you at the small table, silently. He watched you zone out a bit as you just sit there staring at the brown liquid.

“You’re not going to eat?” he asks as he watched you.

You shake your head.

“You’re beating your body up.” he says softly.

“Good. I deserve it.” you say back.

“You can’t punish yourself.” he says. He places two hands on the table and relaxes them.

“And why not?” you say nastily as you glare at his face. His voice is still calm when he speaks again.

“You did nothing bad.” he says. You don’t say anything.

Some time passed as you take a small sip. You look to your side out of the window. As you shifted your leg to overlap your other one, you noticed his leg was a bit close to yours as he stretched his out some.

You check the time. You were supposed to board your plane an hour ago. You sigh softly.

“Alice canceled the other leg.” he explains as he watched you set your phone down.

“Great.” you whisper out as you continue to watch the window.

You watch as people walk and some even run past. You notice the clouds starting to form with one another, darkening the sky a bit.

You blinked as your eyesight started to fade in and out. You rise up as you start to feel your mouth water.

Luckily the bathroom was for one person, leaving you to fling the door closed. You heaved over the toilet, bending over as nothing came out. You clutched your stomach as it kept pressing itself in, trying to find something to reject. You whimper at the feeling, letting the excess saliva fall into the toilet instead.

You bend your knees, squeezing your eyes shut as you continue to hold your stomach.

You heard a soft knock and a voice following it, “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” you say softly, still trying to focus on not being nauseous, “I will be out in just a minute.”

You rise after some time, you rinse your face with cold water. You were feeling a bit overheated. You dab your face dry with a paper towel and looked into the mirror.

You barely recognized yourself. This was not the person who left La Push. This was not the person who came here with high hopes.

You didn’t know if you were overreacting, but you looked close to being dead. Alice’s placement of the concealer made you feel thankful.

You made sure your legs were steady as you came out of the bathroom, Edward was waiting nearby.

“Are you alright?” he asks again and places a hand on a spot on your back.

“Yes.” you say. You have a seat again.

“You really should eat something. The coffee will only curb your appetite.” he says to you.

You don’t listen as you continue to sip on it, the liquid now being a cool room temperature. You didn’t set the mug down until a brown ring was at the bottom of it.

“It’s going to rain.” Edward says as he takes off his jacket and follows you out the door.

“What a day.” you comment as you didn’t have an umbrella. Just the stylish clothes that Alice had made for you. You cross your arms as you continue to walk.

He raised and wrapped it around you, covering your head perfectly, and in the nick of time, rain fell down onto you.

“You’re going to get wet.” you say to him as he’s walking with you closer next to him.

“It’s alright. I can’t get sick but, you can.” he says with a soft grin.

He opens the car door, you bend down and carefully slide into the car, and he follows in after you, closing the car door.

You lean your head back as the patter hits the windows and the driver works the wheel.

You sit up after some time, noticing the route was not back to your hotel room. You look to Edward. He looks to you.

“Alice had to check you out.” he says.

“I hope she didn’t forget anything.” you say, shaking your head a bit.

“This is Alice we are talking about.” he says and you couldn’t argue with that.

“So…Why are we here?” you ask as the brake screeches in front of the penthouse that stood tall.

“She has your things.” he says and grabs his jacket and holds it for you to come out.

You don’t even feel the rain as you walk in.

Edward unlocks and open the door and Alice is right at your face. She pulls you into the home.

“I know you did something.” you tell her as she smiles.

“I did.” she says in a quirky tone. You flop down on the large couch, “Where’s my things?” you ask.

“In the spare room. Guess what? I got you an apartment!” she says and smiles brightly.

“Alice!” you say with widened eyes.

“Before you freak out, it’s month to month.” she says but you shake your head.

“I was going to pay for the extra time being here at the hotel.”

“You don’t want your own space? I mean the hotel was nice and all but, you’re going to be working and you need your own space to I don’t know..Move around.” she says to you.

“What am I going to do with you?” you say shaking your head.

“Love me!” she says comically and she zips out of the room and comes back in with a blanket.

“Lay down Y/N. Sleep.” she says to you.

“I’m actually not tired anymore.” you say as you blink and don’t feel the heaviness in your eyes.

“I’m not going for that.” she says as you lay down comfortably. The blanket is over your body.

“Me and Jazz are only going out hunting. When you wake up, we will get you something to eat.” she tells you and you nod. She looks up to her brother who standing over the couch.

“Are you coming?” she asks him.

He slightly shakes his head as he comes around the sofa.

“I’m fine, I’ll go later on. I’m good right now.” he says and takes a seat on the opposite side of you.

“Okay.” she says to him. She turns her attention back onto you and places a hand on your forehead, “Y/N. Sleep.”

“Yes, mommy dearest.” you say.

This brings out a smirk from Alice and a chuckle from Edward. She’s out of the room.

“Can I watch tv?” you ask and sit up on your elbows.

“Y/N.” Edward says and shakes his head slightly with a grin.

“Come on, please?” you slightly poke your lip out before smiling.

He fakes a tired sigh before saying, “Fine. But, I’m turning on what to watch.”

“What?” you say as you slump back down.

“I can either turn on a movie or the news channel.” he teases.

“The movie it is.” you quietly say.

The black and white picture comes into view. You watch as a man drives with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with two hands on the steering wheel. An old piano is heard to be playing as the character does so.

“What’s this?” you ask at the clearly old movie.

“Le petit soldat.” he answers in perfect french pronunciation.

“It better not be boring.” you quietly say.

“If it’s boring, you will sleep.” he whispers as he watched the screen.

You continue to watch anyway. Watching as the male character brings out a camera from the backseat of his car, aiming and shooting at the couple who’s kissing in front of a sign.

“Aimez-vous les uns les autres”

You only knew what it said because of the class you took when you were a freshman in high school.

“Love one another”

You began to yawn as he drove away.

The french male narration follows you into your dreams. You dreamed of Paul. You dreamed of his face. You reached out to him and he simply ignored you. You felt like crying but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You moved forward but an invisible glass was blocking you. He doesn’t look up but you yelled but no sound came out and you banged against the glass with all of your might.

You woke up to a dark room. The tv glowing back at you with something else on. You sit up a bit after rubbing your eyes to find Edward taking his eyes off of the television and onto you.

“How did you sleep?” he asks.

“I slept well.” you say, refusing to say alright.

“Are you hungry? The rain slowed up.” he says.

“It’s still daytime?” you ask.

“No. It’s dusk.” he says to you.

You go to move your sock covered legs and feet, only to find them resting very close to his lap.

You knit your eyebrows a bit as you slowly rise up and stretch your arms out.

“I still feel like I got hit by a bus.” you comment.

“Still?”

“Yeah.” you say, “I need an umbrella. Just in case.”

“I have one.” he says as he takes one out of the coat closet.

“Never mind.” you mutter and slide on the loafers that you had taken off earlier.

You slide on your jacket. As you walk into the streets, the drizzle fell over the umbrella that Edward held.

You immediately felt lightheaded. You didn’t know what else to do, so you clutched onto his arm. Edward looked down at you in slight perturbation.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I feel weird.” you say as you clutch his arm a bit tighter. Your vision started to be unfocused again as you started to not see what was in front of you.

You felt him direct you in somewhere, when you sit down you breathed out a small sigh as you rubbed your eyes.

“We got seated that quick?” you ask as you looked around the restaurant.

“I was worried. You really need to eat something. I had to do what I had to do.” he says as he looked at his arm that was resting on the table.

The waitress soon comes over with a big smile, mostly to Edward. Taking a look at her dazed face, you knew what he did. She leaves off to get you a drink and you lean forward, “Did you..?”

He nods. The thing was, he didn’t feel sorry about it in the slightest.

You felt the same feeling from earlier then. You rise up but you had to hold the table to keep your balance.

You felt a cool hand on your hand.

“Y/N?”

“I just need to go to the restroom.” you rush out as you tried your best to rush through the restaurant to find a bathroom.

You couldn’t make it into the stall before you dry heaved again over the sink. Nothing could come up as your body pressed against you. You clutch the sink as you leaned forward.

You take your phone out of your jacket and you so badly wanted to click on his contact. But, you knew that he would tell you to come home. You set it down on the sink and you noticed that the stall doors were open. You breathed out a sigh of relief that you had some type of privacy.

You looked into the mirror and you looked as if you were about to pass out at any given moment.

You hear a loud buzz. Picking it up, you immediately answer.

“Hello?”

“What’s going on Y/N?”

“Sam, what do you mean?”

“Paul won’t tell me anything. I thought you were supposed to come home yesterday.” he speaks out.

“Yeah um..It was a mixture of things. I accepted a real good opportunity which is making me stay here longer. And…I heard about the threat that you guys have to deal with.” you explain.

“It has to be more than that. He tried to test my authority. I didn’t want to but, I had to make him submit all over again.” he says and it was a voice of a man who’s tired.

“It’s my fault. He really wanted me to come home. I..” you say and sigh before closing your eyes.

“Can I speak to him? Is he around?” you ask.

“He hasn’t phased out since yesterday.” he tells you.

“Well…Can you tell him that…I do care about him…I didn’t want to hurt him.” you say sadly.

“I can tell him. I think what really ticked him on edge was that Emily left to see her mother and she was able to come back. He kept saying ‘she left me’ before he snapped.” he tells you.

You felt your heart drop as you knew that wasn’t the reason before shaking your head, “I didn’t leave him. I swear I didn’t. I really will be back soon I just have to work here for a while.”

“What’s a while?”

“A year.” you say after you scratch your eyebrow with one finger.

“A year?! Y/N. No wonder he’s going crazy.” he says with a deep sigh.

“What?” you say in confusion.

“His wolf can’t be away from his imprint that long. He’s right, you do need to come home.”

“Sam, that’s not fair. You of all people should know how much this means to me! I go home and what? Worry every five seconds about whether or not he makes it back safe and alive? This opportunity is the main reason why I didn’t even go to college!” you say as you pace a bit with the phone stuck to your ear.

“I get it. I completely do.” he says stoically.

“No. You don’t. You’re sounding just like him!” you say in frustration.

“You can’t expect normalcy in the supernatural world. It sounds unfair, I know, but it’s just the reality. It’s what comes with it. When you accepted the imprint, you agreed to accept everything that comes with it. I was feeling what he was feeling when Emily was gone as well. You don’t get it, Y/N. The imprint balances the wolf so that means with you away, especially for a long period of time, he can go rogue.” he says carefully.

“I have to do this, Sam.” you say.

“Just think about what I said. Just please think about it. In a situation like this, we really need to stick together. We can’t afford our pack being broken apart over a cold one.” he says.

“I will. I give you respect, so I will.” you sincerely say. He seems pleased with this as he wishes you well and adds, “If anything doesn’t seem right or if you don’t feel right, please, please, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

You agree.

Edward looks at you as you have a seat.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m afraid you’re right. I am beating up my body.” you say in defeat.

“I ordered you something simple.” he tells you.

“I was gone for that long?” you say and put your head in your hands. He nods.

You ate all of your food in one sitting, you felt slightly better. But, not all the way better. You didn’t understand. You had gotten rest, you ate, so why did you feel uneasy still? You, however, didn’t make it known.

“There’s a library nearby. Would you like to go?” Edward offers as you both walk again.

“Sure.” you say with a shrug.

In the aisle of the thriller section, you came to realization.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to make.” you whisper in the quiet setting.

He places a book back onto the shelf, reaching his arm over you as he slid it back.

“How about how you feel?” he suggests.

“What? Sickly?” you ask with a soft grin.

“I mean…..You could play on that.” he says grinning back.

“I guess…I want to do something I’ve never done before.” you mused.

“Something you’ve never done before?” he questions.

“I want to really make something that will have someone think.” you say as you turn the book over to skim the back of it.

“You already do that.” he says and you see a glimpse of white from his mouth.

“I don’t know.” you say with a shrug.

“What about…?” he starts but you stop walking to the next section. You look at him to continue.

“What about love?” he suggests.

“Love is too complex. Do we really know what it is?” you say with a light laugh.

“It’s a spectrum. It doesn’t have to be just…One thing in order to define it.”

“I suppose.” you say and you settle with a greek mythology book.

Edward let you use his address to get a library card.

“I think I want to sculpt something. Like really get hands on.” you say as you both walk back to the penthouse.

“That would be interesting.” he comments.

“After what I saw what Larry displays, I have some serious competition.” you say as the elevator door closes.

“They’re not as good as you.” he comments quietly as the elevator moves up.

“That’s a stretch.” you say quietly chuckling.

“It’s true. You make people stop and feel.” he says as he walks next to you.

He opens the door and Alice and Jasper were home.

“Hey.” you greet them both. They greet you back.

You felt a hand be placed on your shoulder, you look.

“I will be back. I need to hunt.” he says to you. You nod.

“I’m going to my ‘for now’ room.” you tell Alice as you start to walk and she guides you to the spare room.

It was grand. You didn’t expect less from them. Your suitcase was standing proud. You peered into it and Alice did make sure to grab everything.

You flopped on the bed after closing the door. You still felt incredibly exhausted. Your mind started to race as you stared up at the ceiling from the bed.

You sit up with a wince and a gasp. It felt like your body was smacked into something hard. You roll off the bed and onto the floor as you hold your sides. It hurt too much to feel embarrassing.

Alice rushed in, kneel at your side, “Oh my god, are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” you say as you wanted to cry. Jasper stands behind her. You felt the pain starting to ease up, but you knew something was wrong.

She helps you rise up and she takes a long look at you, “It feels like you’re burning up.” she comments to you.

“I think… I think I need to lay down.” you say as your vision start to blur. You put one knee on the bed before you land forward on the soft bed.

You don’t know what happened next, but you woke up to Edward sitting in the chair in the corner of the room.

You groan as you turn over. A blanket from the bed was over you and you push it off the upper part of your body.

“What’s wrong with me?” you whisper into the darkness.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“No. Paul will freak.” You say as you blink at the dark room.

“Should I get Carlisle?” he asks. You think for a moment and nod, you hearing his footsteps let you know that his eyes could still see you in the dark.

He stands as he exits the room.

Alice comes in right after he leaves and placed a hand on your forehead while sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Did you see this? In your vision?” you ask.

“No. I wasn’t looking for your future, the traumatic event as it was your choice to go home, hit at me so strongly.” she admits.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” you comment.

“Carlisle will be here soon.” she reassured you and hold your hand. The cool hand noticeably contrast in your fevered hand.

“When can I go home? It feels like….It feels like I’m dying.” you say with a whine at the last part.

“It’s going to be some time before Victoria is dead.” she says to you.

“How much time? I miss Paul. I just want Paul.” you say as you squeezed your eyes closed, you didn’t want to cry but you were on the verge of tears. She then rubs your shoulder.

“I know.” she says softly with a hint of compassion.

She sits with you until you hear the door open again. She stands up as she says hello to the father figure.

Carlisle felt your head with his hand as he peered down at you.

“You do feel very hot.” he says.

“She hasn’t been taking care of herself.” Edward says as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Edward, not now.” you say with annoyance.

“He’s a bit right. It’s important for you to get plenty of sleep and to eat. Now, I don’t understand why you were pain. What did it feel like?” Carlisle asks you.

“Like something smacked me hard. It just smacked me out of nowhere. My vision goes in and out to where it’s a bit hard to see if front of me at times.” you explain.

“She said she felt like she got hit by a truck when she had woken up earlier.” Edward adds on. Carlisle takes a worried glance at you after hearing this.

“You should take it easy.” Carlisle says and then looks to Edward without saying anything. It was evident that communication was happening. Edward rises and leaves the room immediately.

“It seems like you’re experiencing a sudden drop in blood pressure. As for the pain, do you feel sick?” he asks.

“No. I don’t feel sick.” You say as Edward hands you a glass of water. He made the effort to hold the glass as you drink in little by little. You sighed from the refreshment and lay back to find find yourself fluffed up with pillows . Alice puts a pillow under your legs.

“How will I work? I need to get better.” you say.

“Don’t rush it.” Edward tells you.

“I have a lot I need to do.” you say as you start to droop and close your eyes.

“Just let her sleep.” Carlisle says to Edward. Edward stands as he peered down at you. Your chest began to rise and fall slowly.

“Edward.” Carlisle says to Edward, who was still peering down at you, to get him to let you be.

As much as he didn’t want to, he turned and leaves out of the room.

You woke up to it already being the next morning. You rub your eyes as the bright light shined through the curtains.

You reached over and seen that Paul did call an hour prior to you waking up. You immediately get out of bed and get dressed.

After checking your email, you find out you have to fly to LA the next day. The duration was for two days. This was the tightest deadline you’ve ever gotten.

After brushing your teeth, Alice is in your face with a muffin.

“Eat.” she says.

“Thanks.” you say with a smile.

Alice takes your arm and you’re in the living room. Carlisle was still there. You smile at him as he smiles back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better.” you say as you do. You then turn to Alice, “After I eat, I need to go to get art supplies.”

“Okay! I know where we could go.”

You look down while chewing and you swallow.

“Um…I was thinking I go alone. I won’t be long.” you say and she doesn’t feel down about it as she grins and nods.

As you walk, you call Paul. He answers on the first ring.

He doesn’t get hello out before you ramble on, “I’m so sorry, Paul. I promise I do care about you. I didn’t leave you, I swear I didn’t. I do miss you. Things are just so complicated. I promise I will come back home.”

“I miss you too.” he says quietly, you had to strain to hear him but you still smile.

“I talked to Sam.” you tell him.

“I know. He told me.” he says in the same volume.

“I have to….” you say and close your mouth.

“What is it?” he says not bothering to speak louder.,

“When I tell you I love you, I want to tell you it because I feel it.”

“Okay.”

Silence follows after.

“I’m going to LA tomorrow.” you tell him.

“Okay.”

You searched for more to say as you felt sad that the conversation was nothing like it’s ever been before.

“I gotta go.” he says.

“Booo.”

This makes him break out a chuckle.

“Wait, Paul!” you say before he could hang up.

“Yeah?”

You wait for a moment to ask, “Can I call you..Tonight?”

“Of course.” he says and hangs up.

You knew what you were going to make.

You come in with a bag and Alice jumps up with excitement.

“Do you want to see your place?” she asks.

“Yeah.” you say with a low energy smile. Edward stares at you.

You were grateful. It was a spacious apartment and you definitely had an entire free room to do all of your artwork. You turn and hug her tight with a smile.

“See? I knew you would love it!” she says. You chuckle a bit. You looked up as Alice unwrapped herself from you to see Edward with his hands in his pockets, looking at you and his sister.

“Okay. Let’s go. She has a project due in like two days.” Alice says to her brother.

“Do you mind..If I stay?” he asks you. Alice looks to you for an answer.

You got nervous, “Um….I work better…Alone. I never have people around me while I work. Ever.” you admit.

“That’s okay! Come on, Edward.” Alice says.

Edward takes his time to follow his sister out.

You let out a breath when you know they’re both out of the building.

You were happy you weren’t feeling so weak. You start to sketch out the idea before implanting the details.

You worked until darkness came. You munched on takeout as you called Paul from your bedroom.

He answers and you’re surprised.

“Hey, you.” you say.

He rubbed his eye as he says, “Hey.”

“Do you want to see what I’m making so far?” you ask.

“No, let me see it when you’re done.” he says and he squints a bit, “Where are you at?”

“My apartment. I got put up.” you say.

“Oh.” he says and you watch as his face falls.

“It’s not a yearly lease. It’s month to month. I can still leave when it comes down to it.”

He nods slowly as he looks down a bit, “But you won’t.”

You look to the side.

The silence was thick. You didn’t know what else to say to him. He just looked at your digital entity.

“Why did….Sam make you submit? What did you do?” you ask after some time of looking at each other.

He shrugs, “I was going to come get you my self.” he admits.

You didn’t know whether to be serious or laugh at the thought.

“I kind of…Wish you did.” you say quietly.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah….I feeling so horrible. Sick even. I felt like I was dying.” you admit.

“Was it the day you talk to Sam?” he asks. You nod.

“Hm..” he says.

“Why? Were you feeling like that too?” you ask.

“A bit. I just know I was more hostile than usual. Last night, as we were chasing the leech, I smacked right into Jared as she juked out of my reach.” he says.

“Oh.” you say you say a slight frown.

“Shit was crazy.” he says as he rubs his eyes again.

“I think I felt that.” you whispered.

“Felt what?”

You shake your head slightly as you start, “I remember being in so much pain. It felt like my body was smacked into something.”

“Are you serious?” he asks, looking more alert.

“Yeah.” you say.

“This is why you need to be home.” he says starting to bring the level of his voice up. You don’t say anything as you already knew what was holding you back from going home.

You instead, take him with you to throw your trash away.

In a way, he got a virtual tour of what your apartment looked like.

“There’s no way you paid for that.” he comments.

You set him on the counter as the trash is dumped into the kitchen garbage.

“I didn’t. I told you I got put up.” you say with a sly smile.

He was about to say something but he stops as he sighs as he says, “Alright. I gotta go. That was Sam.”

“Okay. Be safe…” you say in a somber.

“Always am.” he says.

You flop backwards on the bed as you are content. It was finished. The buzz at your door made you confused, you’re even more confused when the morning light is shining bright at you.

Looking at the same clothes that you’ve had on, the knocking hits your door again. You press the talk button with furrow eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“Are you ready? You have to get to the airport.” Edward says. You look at the project that sat strong and finished as you realized you didn’t even sleep.

You hide your gasp as you blink at the sky before admiting,“I didn’t wrap my art yet.” you say as you rub your eyes.

“I will have it wrapped and in the car before you’re even dressed but, you seriously have to go.” he says.

As you got dressed in your room. Edward greedily looked at what you made in the other room. He was careful but still quick to live up to his claim.

Your jaw was sore as you kept covering your yawn with your hand in the car. You wiped the stray tears that were collecting in your eyes from the yawning sessions.

Your mood was better, Paul called you before you had to leave. He praised what you made, he was genuinely blown away.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” Edward asks with a slight frown.

“How would I sleep in order to finish this?” you asked as you held the sturdy hard-sided container. His eyes flickered with a dash of excitement as he looked at it and you.

“It does look amazing.” he comments as he stared down at the covered work.

When you touched down, you were glad to be alone. Larry had someone pick you up from the airport and brought you to his house.

He introduced you to his girlfriend, who was also an artist.

You were relieved that you could be somewhat comfortable.

“I can’t wait to set this up.” he says as you unwraveled the protection around the piece. He had a glass box that was ready to for it to be placed in.

“It is beautiful.” she says with a smile and her hands together, “What inspired you?”

“Have you ever experienced heartache so bad, that you don’t want to be inside of your body anymore?” you ask her.

She couldn’t bring out an answer as she looked at it earnestly.

“Not like this, but it definitely makes me feel like I have before.” she says while nodding as she intently mused at the fiber art.

You stayed in the guesthouse. You didn’t know whether or not to feel bad, but you felt happy that the Cullens weren’t around. The weather was going to be sunny, Alice letting you know that she and Edward weren’t going to chance coming, she also seen no faulty events for the two days you were going to be gone. You were glad in a way because you had time to think.

You really were glad you finished because you didn’t know that Larry was having the gallery on the same day as you came. You sat in the car heading to his gallery in Beverly Hills. New wave of pieces were debuting tonight and you were nervous. You didn’t know if your stuff would hold up to the expectations of the other artists.

The lights were bright as you saw your piece set up, with your name showing everybody that you were responsible for the artistic decision.

People oo’ed and ahh’ed as they walked around, they asked you questions as they huddled around the art piece that you made. Most of them being high profile, you just breathed and chanted in your head to be yourself.

You tried your best to force a smile but you wanted a certain person to come. Pictures were taken and Larry looked proud as people gushed about what you made.

Things were dying down as people mingled and talked about what to do afterwards. You were looking down, staring off to space as you were thinking about heading back to the house.

“Did you get beat up or something?” a voice says to you that made your heart beat wildly.

You saw a pair of familiar shoes. You immediately look up to see the person who you wanted to see.

“Oh my god!” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you close to him. He sways you as you both didn’t care that people were looking. He grabbed your neck so you could look at his face and pulled you in with a kiss.

You didn’t care that you couldn’t breathe, he also didn’t care either. You both pull back and smile at each other.

He pressed his forehead to yours as you pant.

“How? How did you get here?”

“I ran here.” Paul says.

“Sam didn’t order you to stay away?” you ask in surprise.

“He didn’t say I couldn’t go to a gallery.” he says with a smirk.

Your arms were around him and you frown a bit, “You lost weight.”

“You did too.” he says with the same expression that you displayed on your face.

“I’ve been too stressed to eat.” you admit.

“Me too.” he admits as well.

“How did you bring clothes?” you whisper with a smirk.

“My wolf doesn’t have a big mouth for nothing.” he says and emits a happy laugh from you as you pull him in close to you and he then says in a somewhat annoyed but light voice, “Looks like someone wants you.”

You pull away and you look to see Larry standing there with a supportive grin.

“Oh, hey.” you say sheepishly as you forgot that you were in a public setting.

“Oh, I was waiting for you to get it all out.” He jokes as you look down with a smile. Paul puts a heavy arm around you shoulders and pull you close to his side.

“This is Paul. My boyfriend.” you introduced to him and Larry shook his hand and you had to look away to stop yourself from laughing because Paul had a strong grip on his hand.

“You have a talented one right here.” Larry comments before someone is now in his face speaking to him.

Paul steers you away from and you both walk around.

“So, where are you staying?” he asks in your ear.

“You won’t like it.” you say with a grin.

“Why?” he asks.

“At Larry’s guesthouse.” you say and you watch Paul’s face drop and you say, “He has a girlfriend.”

He gives you a look that screams, “Like that has stopped anyone before.”

You interlace your hand with his, “The bed is huge.” you whisper to him with a gentle smile and you watch as his mouth twitch before losing the battle of finally seeing his face soften up.

You feel your phone buzz and he feels it too. You pull out your phone as he watched you.

Alice.

He looks to you. He was expecting you to simply explain.

“Do you want me to answer?” you ask him.

“What are you going to do?” he asks seriously and plainly. He actually watches as you just answer under his arm.

“I can’t see your future! It’s gone black! Are you okay?!” Alice’s high trilled voice makes you squint and both you and Paul wince away from the phone.

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay.” you say with glee as you look at him. He’s then goes to grab your hand. He’s listening to everything that’s being said.

“I’m scared Y/N. Are you safe? Are you still at the gallery?” she asks.

“Yes. And yes. Don’t panic. Look, I have to go. It’s my turn to speak. I will call if anything happens.” you promise.

She’s not convinced but she agrees and hangs up.

You’re tugged by surprise and you look up to Paul peering down at you.

“When are you going to be done with right here?” he asks in genuine curiosity as he looks about for a bit.

“I literally don’t know.” you say as you couldn’t find Larry. You hear a chuckle that’s deep as you looked around and you look to the source.

Displaying a relaxed grin, “Aren’t you supposed to show me something?” His hands were firm around your waist. His gaze made you glad he was holding you up because you felt shaky.

You nod and he then brings you in close to his side. You slug next to him as you both stroll out of the door.

Larry was outside leaving himself.

“Are you coming to dinner with us?” he asks you after he got in a car. He leans over a bit as the car door was open.

“No-“

“Yes.”

You look at Paul.

He shrugs, “I’m hungry.”

Larry chuckles at this as he looks at his girlfriend who is also displays an amused smile.

A driver opens the door for you and Paul as you grab his hand and hop in the car with him.

He keeps a hand on your jaw as he worked his lips on yours, you fell under it like a spell as you were slumped again him, chasing his kisses. The driver following the car that’s in front. Your mouths told each other how much you missed each other.

Larry liked Paul. He found him to be quite charismatic and laid back. He had questions for you, however.

“How come you didn’t come to New York?” Larry asks Paul.

“I had work. I came here to surprise this one.” he answers and doesn’t take away the hand that was resting on your knee under the table.

“Have you thought of modeling or anything?” Larry’s girlfriend asks him, she took a good look at his face and Paul shakes his head, not really wanting to be in that scene.

“So, when is she able to come back home?” Paul asks and you look to him, surprised that he popped out with that question.

Larry chuckles quietly, “She can go home whenever she wants to. It’s just that when I need her here for business, she has to come. Sorry but, she’s the money maker.”

Paul looks to you and nods, he proceeded to ask the next question without taking his eyes off of yours, “So, when is she due back?”

“I have some meetings set up for next week. I’ll know the definite direction we are going to be moving in but uh..Yeah. Y/N, when the time is needed, you’ll be in New York right?”

“Yeah…I am…But, the thing is..” you say and look down with your heart racing, the table is quiet as they wait for your response, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to stay there instead being jet lagged all of the time?”

“Yeah. But, if you want to go home, you can. Hell, I’m back and forth from New York and LA so, it’s doable.” Larry encourages. Paul grins at this and rubs your knee.

Larry’s girlfriend got Larry’s attention and started talking to him about an offer that she received and that’s when they started talking in their own conversation.

“Don’t you leave tomorrow?” Paul asks you as fidget with a napkin on the table, you ate as much as you could before getting full.

You nod and you felt a warm hand on your back.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble with Sam.” you say quietly, worried about his consequence.

“There you go, worrying.” Paul says with a smirk.

“I’m serious.” you say in a quiet but captious tone at him. He doesn’t take it to heart but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in and asking in your ear, “What’s with you?”

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m just tired.” you say quietly. He’s not convinced but he lets it be the answer.

Larry’s girlfriend sees someone that she knows, gets up and gives them a hug. They move from the table and talk and catch up, happy to run into each other. Paul tells you that he has to use the bathroom. When he walks off, Larry takes a look at you.

You try to ignore it but he’s still looking at you.

“That guy, you were with at the symphony, he wasn’t your boyfriend?” Larry asks you quietly. You shake your head while saying no politely.

“He isn’t like your manager or anything?” he asks again.

“No. He..He was a friend of a friend.” you say.

“Oh...”

“What made you ask?” you ask with an amused look.

“It was the way that he handled everything, taking control over the situation. He was a bit intense.” he says as he thinks back and holds a defensive hand up before continuing, “Look, I’m not looking to get in your business but I’m getting in your buisness.” he comments before getting up and going to where his girlfriend was. His girlfriend’s friend opened her mouth into a happy gasp as she shook his hand and he carried the conversation like a casual stroll.

As soon as you and Paul came into the guesthouse, he stripped of his clothes.

“I mean, this place is huge.” he says as he’s in nothing but his boxers. You don’t say anything as you sit on the bed and look down.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he stands in front of you.

“I’m too scared to come home.” you say lowly.

“Why?” he asks and you still don’t say anything.

“Because of the leech?” he asks again. You nod halfheartedly.

“When I leave here, I’m going back to the city.” you tell him. His face hardened.

“Now, it’s like you’re trying to piss me off.” he says.

“What?” you say dismissively as you don’t take what he’s saying seriously.

He throws you a look, not in an angry way but as if he’s thinking.

“It’s not because I don’t want to come home but, come on Paul, I’m scared.”

“And I have always protected you. I always have. Nothing bad has ever happened to you because I don’t let it.”

“Don’t say that now because what if something does happen?”

“I won’t let it happen.” he says in finality. You two hold each other’s gaze.

“I have to tell you something.” you say, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“What?” he encouraged.

“I don’t know if Old Quil has told you but, Alice Cullen can see the future of someone’s decision making and the real reason why I stayed was because I was supposed to come home from the airport with Bella. Alice told me that Emily and I’m guessing Kim as well had to be told not to go anywhere for safety which made me decide to call Bella to pick me up, I would’ve…”

“You would’ve what?” he asks flatly and he’s back close to you.

“I would’ve died or been…One of them. And it was because of the vampire that you and the pack have been trying to kill. I wouldn’t have even made it to La Push. ” you say.

He doesn’t say anything but he stared at you deeply. So deeply, that it almost made you uncomfortable.

“So…You lied to me.” he states.

“Is that what you got from this?” you say in frustration.

“Yeah…That’s exactly what I got from this…You lied to me and it took me to come to you to get the truth out of you. If I was still home, I would’ve still been thinking it was Larry who was making you stay here. Unbelievable.” he says as he shakes his head.

“What’s unbelievable is that you would’ve still told me to come home.”

“But, you don’t know that. You didn’t give me the option!” he says back to you.

“You don’t understand-“

“I don’t understand how if she told you this, don’t you think if let’s say, you told me this , mind you, we talked the night before you were supposed to leave. We would’ve strategized on following you, making sure she didn’t attack you.”

“I didn’t think about that.”

“You’re right. You didn’t.” he says with a grin but it wasn’t friendly at all.

He then nods after looking to the side a bit, “Is that where the Cullens are? Is that where they left off to?”

“What?”

He bends down a bit to meet your eye level as you look at him.

“Are the Cullens in New York?” he asks as he felt that he knew you heard what he asked the first time.

“Where is this coming from?” you ask and he laughs a bit without a trace of humor as he felt that he caught you.

“Just say it. The real reason you didn’t want to come home, was because the Cullens told you not to come home. I find it real suspicious how they left on the same day that you did.”

“They only warned me! Not told me! I didn’t know that they would come to where I was. I swear!” you say to him. He doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t want to get turned or die. I would have rather for you to have been mad at me for not coming home than me becoming… one of them.” you say in a calm tone as you couldn’t look at him in the face.

He cupped your jaw with one hand, it’s not an aggressive grip, and makes you look up at him as he stared down at you.

“Do not lie to me. I don’t lie to you so don’t do it to me. Do you hear me?”

You nod.

“You’re coming home with me. Tomorrow. Right?” His fierce gaze burned your eyes.

It took you some time before you eventually nodded. After you did, your face starts to twist as you tried to hold back tears. Tears of fustration.

That’s when his face starts to soften up, “I mean it. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

You nod again as you take in a breath. When he lets go of your face, you rise up to a stand.

He takes his hand to the nape of your neck, his lips are now to your ear as you’re now close to him. You jerk a bit from the fluttery sensation of his lip’s touch on your ear.

He takes his hand to make you feel the front of him, his quiet groan vibrates in your ear that shot right to the lower pit of your stomach. Your breath began to become more shallow as he makes your hand pull his boxers down a bit, causing his boner to spring out at you.

That’s when the two sets of lips meet, you both sigh out in each other’s mouths as he makes you stroke him, his hips slowly flowing forward in your hand.

Your clothes fall onto the ground as if they were leaves. You lay back as he makes you spread your legs for him, taking your underwear off in the process. You forgot how to breathe a bit as you watched him lick your center as if you were the last source of water to a quenched man.

You held the back of his head as your eyes fall closed and you sigh out in a high octave as he worked his tongue in a lewd manner. He was loud with the noises he was making as he held your legs open, preventing you from closing them. Your hands meet the center of his hair as you arch back, whining out his name. You felt more sensitive than usual as you squirmed, it felt like it’s been so long. He felt like it’s been so long.

He watched as your hooded eyes looked down at him as he rubbed his flesh against your sensitive entrance, his hands caressed the perked up breasts that rose up and down from your breathing.

He guided himself in as he sunk in you and you both groaned. You reach out to him as you wanted to feel every inch of him.

He scooted you down until you were at the end of the bed, keeping you open as he worked his hips to meet yours. Your hands tried your best to grab whatever to catch a tight grip. Your legs were already shaking as he coos to you in a rasp.

He picks up the pace as he keeps moving into you. You shuddered as he takes a thumb to circle your nub and you came while groaning out his name.

You noticed he kept going, you gripped the sheets beside you in a tight grip as he drilled in you. He leans forward to press himself against you, you clutch onto this back, your nails making indentations. He didn’t mind as he groaned encouragingly in your ear, you close your eyes again as you whine from the second small orgasm coming.

Your mouth latch onto his neck as he circled his hips. You bit down gently without breaking skin and let go and he grunts out, “Do it again. Come on, do it again.” Your mouth latch back onto him and repeat the action. The thrusts however wouldn’t let you do for long.

You were out of your mind as lays an open mouth kisses on your ear, to your neck, before capturing your mouth. Your eyes were closed with your head to the side. You take in breaths as you then feel transfer the breaths into a high sigh, feeling firm and wetness sensations sleek in the center of your legs. You just had to look and you find the most lewd sight. You felt ashamed that you enjoyed the sight. He teased the entrance, you immediately want to know what it feels like, you missed him so much. One deep thrust had you cooing at him but he didn’t change the slow pace. He pulls out and you see the white coating around his still hardened erection. Your eyes widened a bit as he flipped you over, he sinks into you from behind.

You chant his name as he snapped his hips forward. He held onto you tight as he hooked his arm around you, bringing you up with him. He snaked his hand in front of you and rubbed your nub in circles. You placed one hand on his arm and one on his thigh as you belt out the noises of pleasure.

Your hips lurched as he could now easily pump himself out of you. The noise drove the both of you into a different high. His hand had a feel of the tender breasts that moved with his movements. He then slid it up to cover his now moaning mouth with your mouth. Tongues dart out at each other before the lips could glue onto each other.

He came, you flop forward as your body felt extremely tired.

The next morning was warm. That’s all you felt was warmth.

You didn’t want to get out of bed but, you knew that you had to. While Paul was sleeping, you slid out of bed to use the bathroom.

You were glad that your face didn’t look miserable as it did when you both had been separated.

You hear Paul’s voice call your name and you make your way into the room. He hands you your vibrating phone.

“Hello?”

“I’m in at the tennis court. We have to talk about something.” he says but it’s airy and you have a slight idea that it’s good news.

You look to Paul and he seemed to be fine with it.

“Sure. Thanks so much.”

You thank him again before hanging up. You hurry getting dressed. Paul was still naked under the changed blankets that he put on overnight while you were sleeping and you couldn’t help but to lean and kiss him goodbye. He tried to pull you down, even tugging at some of your clothes but, you were able to win by sliding his hands off and stepping back before his grips became more tighter.

Larry was bouncing the tennis ball and tossed it to you and you catch it with a smile. He was obviously happy about something. You eyed him carefully as he handed you a racket.

You both played a game, if it were a game, Larry winning most of the scores. As you get the ball that went over your side of the net, your eyes were taking in the lime greenness of the tennis ball.

“Your piece sold.”

Your smile was big. You turn around to face him and he matched it.

“Who bought it?” you ask in disbelief, it literally happened overnight.

“Come see. They left a number to call for you. Your money is in my office.”

The spacious room in his home felt like heaven as you waited with anticipation.

He let you sit in his chair as he dialed the number onto the phone and hands it to you. As the phone trilled in your ear, the white paper with numbers was sliding towards you in your peripheral vision.

“Hello?”

You swallow.

“Thank you for buying my piece.” you say to the voice.

“You’re welcome.” he says the laconic statement.

“Edward?” you ask.

“Yes?”

“Why did you buy it?” you ask as you took in shallow breaths.

His voice was calm as he bell out an answer, “It was simply extraordinary.”

You groaned softly to yourself with pursed lips.

“We definitely have to talk.” you tell him.

“Okay. I’m the one picking you up from the airport tonight.” he agrees.

“I’m not going back to New York.” you tell him.

“You’re staying in LA?” he asked in confusion.

“No. I’m going home.”

“Y/N, you can’t.” he says but it’s patient.

“I have to.” you say.

“Did Alice’s vision mean nothing? I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“Paul will make sure nothing happens to me. I can’t accept this. We’ll talk soon.” you say and hang up. You slump back in the chair.

“You can’t accept what?” Larry asks as he blows out his cigar smoke.

“This.” you say with your hands pointing down at the check.

“Why not?” Larry asks with a wry smile.

“There’s something attached to this. I know it. He’s didn’t buy it because he thought it was ‘extraordinary’.” you tell him.

He puts his cigar out.

“Well he bought it. He’s not going to be the only one buying your stuff. Last night so many people were asking me what was the next thing that you were making. People that would pay more.” he explains.

“Larry, you’re a guy,” you say as you play off of what he told you the previous night, “What if your girlfriend was in this position?”

“She has. Plenty of times. She knows how to play the game and leave her feelings out of it. Leave your feelings out of it. This is business. We’re here to make money.”

You walk back to the guest home and Paul was getting dressed when you came in. He pulled you to him in a kiss.

“We don’t have to leave until later on.” you say to him.

“Jared’s been calling. I think Sam knows.” he says. No words were said for a moment as his jacket is slid on, he didn’t bother bringing a shirt.

You walk over to the window and stare out of it in thought.

“What happened? Was it bad news?” Paul asks.

“No. Well…I don’t know….Edward Cullen bought my piece. For a lot of money. Larry’s ecstatic.” you reveal.

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“This puts me in a situation.”

“Don’t take that fucker’s money.”

You shrug in defeat as you look back at him.

“Larry represents me. He will lose out if I say no. But, Paul we wouldn’t have to face a struggle in our lives.” you say. He steps close as he looked down at you.

“We never struggled before so why would you think we would now? All money isn’t good money.” he says with disagreement.

“It’s a situation to where it’s a win win. If I’m able to pull in revenue for him, I make him hot for his business. I get his connections and more.” you say as you look down.

He huffs out with frustration.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I have to take it.” you say in a small voice.

“You don’t have to do anything. All you’ve wanted to do was make art. I feel like this is going to your head.”

“If I fuck this up, it’s going to make my name bad. Yes, I love art but it’s 90% business…Hell it’s probably more than that. At the end of the day, it’s whether or not I can make these people money. I helped him score. Do you know how much of my ass he’s going to kiss?” you reveal.

“Let me talk to him.”

“No.” you say in defeat but he pressed, “No, let me talk to him.”

You follow him out and you call out to him, “What are you doing?” you run and grab his arm. He turns around.

“Do you even know what you want?” he asks bluntly.

“I do! I want to be successful. I always told you that this is my life.” you say.

“I’m also apart of your life.” he states.

“I know. You are.” you say to agree with him.

“So, don’t you think you should incorporate me more? I’m always the last to know about things, you lie to me, it’s like you really don’t give a fuck about me at all. I feel like I’m the only one trying here and it’s not fair at all. You’re about to accept this leech’s money!” he says to you as you both now stand on the huge lawn.

You sigh and look down, “I’m sorry. I just want to do this right. Even before you, I dreamt many nights to be in this position in the first place.”

He grabs your face, “It will come. You don’t think many more people in the future will purchase from you? He’s not the only one. Get that through your head.”

“The man in the office is not thinking like that. I signed a contract agreeing to work business with him. He doesn’t know that Edward’s a…Vampire.” you say.

He shakes his head as he lets go of your face.

“I’m going home. If I don’t see you tonight, I will just know what it is.” he says and steps back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. He keeps stepping back before turning around. You follow him and roughly grab his arm, it of course make him turn around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask him again, stabbing him with your eyes.

He raised a finger and tapped your temple gently but enough to make you blink a bit, “You’re a smart girl.” He takes a look at you before giving you a sneer.

You call his name but he doesn’t turn around, he continues walking.

Closing the door, you stomp to your room. Your phone buzzes, you ignore it. You didn’t want to talk to Alice right now. She didn’t seem to care. The phone continues to ring.

“Alice, I don’t want to talk.” you say feeling upset. You felt like you gained something but also lost something.

“We have to. I didn’t know Paul went to where you were. I seen Victoria follow the scent of a wolf and you have to leave. Now!”

“I can’t. My plane doesn’t leave until tonight.” you say as you felt scared all over again. Your stomach dropped as you rise up and peak out of the window.

“That’s okay. Just pack your things. Larry’s going to call you soon to let you travel on his jet.”

“Alice…” you say to her, “I have to go home. If I don’t, I lose Paul.” you say.

“Now’s really not the time to deal with relationship problems. This is your life we’re talking about here!” she says.

“Why did you let Edward buy my piece?” you question.

“What Edward wants to buy is his choice.” she says.

“Yes but, this caused a huge situation. I..I can’t accept it.”

“Y/N, do you really think you can tell the man who took an investment on you that you can’t accept the money that’s been thrown at you. Talk about blackball.” she says.

“I need to think Alice, I’ll call you back.” you tell her and hang up before she can talk you out of it.

You quickly call Jared and hope he answers. You make a small jump as he answers.

“Sorry I missed your call, I was dealing with something earlier.” you tell him.

“Yeah right. Ignoring my calls.” he jokes and you crack a smile.

“What do you want?” you ask him.

“I was just telling Paul to get his ass back here, I’ve been covering for him but Sam is not stupid.” he says.

“Yeah. He left.” you say and he picked up the tone in your voice.

“You alright?” he asks.

“No. I’m not at all.” you admit.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks.

“I just don’t know what to do Jared. Tonight I’m supposed to come home but, Alice Cullen, the one who can see people’s future, told me it’s still not safe. The vampire you all been tracking down is following Paul’s scent. I’m so in a sticky situation.” you say.

“Hm.. Shit… I’m not the best person to ask for advice from.” he says.

“It’s alright..Do you think one of the guys can pick me up? Or at least follow me home from the loose cold one?”

“Yeah…About that..There’s more than one.”

“What..”

“I had to sneak back here to call you and Paul but, Paul doesn’t even know.”

You put a hand on your forehead.

“Jared. Please tell Paul. Please let him know that I really care about him and he thinks I’m leaving him if I don’t come home.”

“I will tell him. This leech is teasing us. I chased her last night and Embry chased another one. Oh! Did Paul tell you about our new member Embry?”

“Yes he told me. What happened?” you say to rush him.

“Right, so Embry was chasing another one while I got reallly close to getting her. Embry told me before he finished off the leech, they kept screaming this name. Victoria. My guess is that they were with her. There’s probably more that we don’t know about. This shit gets deeper and deeper.” he says.

You don’t say anything as your head is in your head, feeling stressed out at the news.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yes.” you say in a small voice.

“I gotta go. But, whatever happens, I know you will have good intent.” he says.

Alice told the truth when Larry invited you on his jet to ride. You looked out of the window as you sat in the sky, to look down to the sight below you. Your stomach fluttered with nervousness. You just really did hope you made the right choice.

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