#two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two
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you know you're busy when your friends say "when can you hang out?" and you answer with specific dates
#i was able to find 5 weekday evenings in the next month that i am free#because i signed up for a p.e. class that i cant be absent from more than twice or i won't get credit#and im missing two of them for rehearsal next week#which starts this friday and runs until thanksgiving#and when im not doing either of those things i have lab#im so glad im not taking a lab next semester#im also going to try to sign up for an earlier p.e. class#preferably one that doesnt involve a pool
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two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more wee
#the countdown to june 3rd has been keeping me alive all semester#airenyah plappert#anyway lol fanfest and more specifically that epic hugeass pirate ship that they just got there. right on stage. has reminded me#of just how bad i want to work in the world of theater#god i feel so stuck at uni#i just wanna go apply for jobs in theater but i feel like i don't have the energy to do so while i'm still taking classes at uni#i need to fucking finish my master's already but it'll be at least another year if not closer to 1.5-2 years rip#and i'm also required to do an internship in translation but as i said#i'd muuuuch rather work in theater instead#unfortunately that won't count tho rip#two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two more weeks until the start of rehearsals two
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ourgejjg
#i am feeling so ill rn for no reason and i need to shower and wash my hair so bad but i can tell if i do it rn it’ll make the#lightheadedness ten times worse and there is a nonzero chance i will just pass out in there 😭#best guess is bc my period started today and yeah the first two days suck but they’re not usually This bad#personal#also this is the last thing i need rn it’s tech week and all rehearsals lately have been going/are going to go till 10 pm and i have no tim#to do all my assignments and my probability prof assigned a lab today that’s due TMRW AT MIDNIGHT? <- we usually get a class period btwn#it being assigned and the deadline and he’s not even giving us until the next class period to do it now like why is it due at midnight#instead of noon the next day… also i have not one but two exams immediately following this weekend and i really want to see my family for#easter but that sounds like such a bad idea im so unproductive at home and i’ll be busier than usual when i go home on top of that bc easte#and one of the exams is circuits for which exams are worth 90% of our grade and im averaging a 74% at the moment which is NOT#promising and. AAAAA#also have an exam this thursday which imnot nearly as worried abt but still. and i have to meet w someone abt a scholarship tmrw during my#free period so i Still can’t work on that stupid lab due tmrw night like. this sucks okay ‼️#the engineering chronicles#the music chronicles#i know it was only a matter of time before musical started stressing me out but 😭 please give me back the joys of saturday’s rehearsal…#oh also there’s ANOTHER probability lab due day after easter and same day as circuits exam and the prof is the same so he knows full well#what he’s doing like. why are you not giving us the usual period in btwn for these anymore fuck you <3#OH ALSO soldering qualification i need to do for like 3 hours wednesday the night before my thursday exam. nearly forgot abt that one i hat#it hereeee#soldering i could reschedule tho which i might do. but ive already pushed it back once so im like :/ do i really wanna do that#idk. still feel sick as fuck and still need to do physics prelab tonight 😭 it shouldn’t take long but i really don’t want to get up and#stare at my computer even more ifeel so awful rn#ANYWAY. sorry that was oversharing even for me i am just 😐 you know.
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across stardust - one (j.yh)
summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you've never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he's so much more than a crush, he's your soulmate. one | two | three | four
note: please enjoy this truly self indulgent romance. will be four parts total, and i'll post each as soon as they are ready to go. happy comeback week, and i hope everyone enjoys this 💖
tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, a lot of fluff and tenderness, love at first touch, shared feelings/emotions/physical sensations, anxiety/stress over what to do, reader's family isn't the best, kq is not the best company for the purposes of this fic!, light smut including - heavy makeouts/grinding, hand kink, size kink, phone sex, sexting, fingering, jacking off, dirty talk, praise, use of good girl, use of pet names like baby/jagiya/sweetheart. basically this fic is an excuse for me to write star-crossed desperate love so i would say it's the literal opposite of a slow burn lmao
pairings: yunho x reader
genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au
word count: 17.9k
It’s eleven in the morning when your day starts, hiding in the green room of a concert venue in Berlin, and the day feels lost already. With Eunji and Dahan ill that only leaves you and Iseul to handle makeup for all eight members and with how exhausted you are from yet another night of little sleep, you don’t know how you’ll be able to keep up. You’re trying to stay awake, but while the members are all out on stage learning their marks and rehearsing the improvisational moments for this tour stop, the green room is quiet and you keep nodding off.
“Bad night?” Iseul’s voice startles you out of one of your dips into sleep and your body jerks up right.
“Fuck,” You breathe, “hey,”
“Here,” She pushes a bright can into your hands, an energy drink, “you need this.”
“I need to be sedated,” You grumble, taking it from her, “the time difference is never this hard,”
“Mm,” She shrugs, “it’s unpredictable,”
“Yeah,” You sigh, “I guess.”
The thumping music outside as they run through another track is starting to give you a migraine. You take a long sip of the drink and then leave the can on the table in front of you, choosing instead to hide your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt and let out another long sigh.
“Girl,” Iseul nudges you, “you look like shit. Your station looks like shit.”
“Thank you?”
“In thirty minutes we’re going to be busier than we’ve been since that Inkigayo stage for Answer,” She points out and you grimace at the reference. Back then it really was just a skeleton staff and one of the makeup artists quit on the spot, too stressed to continue the work and walking out in the middle of doing Yeosang’s foundation.
What a mess those old days used to be. Nostalgia sometimes makes you forget how late those nights were and just how impossibly tired you had been. This feels too reminiscent of that for sure.
Iseul taps your shoulder to get you to lift your face as she continues, “I know you’re tired, but I can’t do this shit on my own. I need you.”
“Okay,” You breathe, scrubbing your hands over your face to jolt yourself awake as best you can, “you’re right, I’m sorry,”
“Don’t be sorry,” She gives you a sympathetic smile, “I get it.”
This tiredness feels different though, so deeply ingrained in your body. Something’s been keeping your adrenaline running like a long, drawn out anxiety attack and you can’t understand it. You’ve been on tour before, you’ve been on planes, you’ve had long days, and you’ve worked with this exact group for years. There’s nothing on paper that should be making you so anxious, but the threads of it are humming in the deep back of your brain even now.
“Come on,” Iseul prompts again, pulling you to your feet, “let’s get you in gear.”
“Right,” You take another long sip of your energy drink and pray it starts kicking in soon and that the effects won’t make you feel crazier, “let’s do this.”
She helps you put your station together with ease and then pull yourself together. Within those precious thirty minutes of calm before the storm you’ve downed two cans of pure caffeine, assembled your station and strapped on your brush belt, and tried to make yourself some form of presentable by slicking your hair back into a smooth knot and adding a coat of lip balm.
As always, the boys have used the ladder game to determine hair and makeup order which means those at the bottom of the list have more time to relax fresh-faced on the couches before getting poked and prodded and wrapped up like presents for thousands of screaming fans. With only you and Iseul available it’s about to be a race against the clock to get them ready.
Their managers hustle them from the stage to the back rooms where the rest of the staff waits, and the members gather around you and Iseul and your makeshift makeup stations.
“Alright,” Iseul says as the members quiet down, “we’re down some staff as you know,”
They nod attentively and you trade a close lipped smile with Hongjoong.
“We’re just going to do the best we can as quickly as we can,” She explains, looking down at their names on a slip of paper, “Wooyoung, Yeosang, Jongho, San,” she recites, “you’re with me in that order.”
You run through the names on your slip, “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, that leaves you with me.”
Iseul nods as you finish your words, “Please be ready to slot in when the person in front of you is finished, and then you can go directly to wardrobe for your soundcheck outfits,”
“We’ve got it,” Hongjoong nods, “and if there’s anything you both need,”
“We’ll be fine,” Iseul assures him, “but it’s definitely going to be cutting it close,”
“We should get started,” You cut in, “if you’re ready?”
Hongjoong jumps to your chair immediately and Wooyoung steps to Iseul’s, and before you know it you’re off.
The room is alight with activity while you both work, only you don’t have a relaxed pace and only two members to perfect. You’re used to working with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, they’ve been your assigned members for as long as you’ve worked with Ateez, but when staff shortages or timing gets tight, it can be a bit of a free for all.
You stay focused and execute each member’s makeup like a well rehearsed dance, and you do your best to ignore the buzzing anxiety in your veins. For a little while, you handle it like a professional.
When Yunho finally settles into your chair, about a single second after Mingi leaves it, the exhaustion careens back into you sideways. It takes you a minute to prep your tools this time, and you’re pretty sure that without the artificial pick me up of the energy drinks you’d be passing out on the spot.
You steady your hands against the vanity in front of you and take a deep breath, and when you look up you catch Yunho’s eyes in the mirror, a tiny crease of concern between his brows.
“You okay?” He checks.
You give him a smile, albeit a tired one, “The jet lag is really hitting this time,” you explain, “but I’m fine,”
He looks sympathetic immediately, “Same for me, I feel like I’m barely sleeping,”
“That’s not good,” You tell him as you prep your stainless steel palette, “you have a long night ahead,”
“I’ll sleep tonight,” He says, “I’m sure,”
“After dancing for three hours I’d hope so,” You smile and pick up your first set of tools before turning towards him.
“Do you have anything you could take?” He asks, studying your face, “A sleep aid?”
“I usually don’t like to,” You admit, “I always feel groggy the next day,”
“And we have another show,” He finishes for you, his lips coming together in a thin line as he thinks.
There’s nothing really for him to do, but it’s kind of him anyway to be so concerned. They always are, this rare group of eight idols who remember staff birthdays, bring coffee on the early morning schedules, and always, always take extra time to clean up after themselves so it’s not left to anyone else.
You take a step closer towards him and glance over his bare face and then it occurs to you, “You know what’s funny?”
“Hmm?” He tilts his face up to you.
“I don’t think I’ve ever done your makeup before,” You smile, it’s a ridiculous thought.
“No way,” He blinks, thinking back, “it’s been… forever, are you sure?”
You nod, “You’re usually with Eunji,” you tell him, “and even when we’ve swapped around, I don’t think so. I think you’re the only member I’ve never done,”
“Wow,” He laughs, eyes bright, “well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
“Is there anything,” You start to ask him if there’s anything he prefers, anything special about his makeup that he gets done with Eunji that he asks for, but Iseul catches you idle as she pats foundation onto San’s forehead and answers for you.
“His skin gets dry,” She jumps in, “don’t use too much powder,”
Yunho grins, a laugh on his lips at the directness of her words.
“And don’t use that oil,” Iseul adds, “that primer oil you like, he’ll break out by tomorrow,”
“Thank you, Iseul,” Yunho says, and you watch San’s face as he stifles a chuckle.
“Noted,” You smile, and you swap out two of the products in your hands before taking up your position by his side again.
You’ve gotten used to working with idols, to working with Ateez and with Yunho specifically, and yet when you get this close a little flutter of nerves rocks through your belly. He’s handsome, and if you’re being honest he’s just your type. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or this weird feeling in your chest that you’ve been dealing with all week, but for the first time in a long time you think about what it would be like to kiss his lips.
“How do you want me?” He asks, breaking your thoughts, and you have to shake off the impending blush at the way his words make you feel. You have work to do, and you had gotten over your silly little crush on him years ago, you need to get a grip.
You recover fairly smoothly though with a quick smile, “Right,” he’s never worked with you before, and he’s looking to you for direction, “head back a bit, please, and eyes closed,”
“Alright,” He follows your instructions to the letter.
“Okay,” You tell him, “primer first. Let me know if anything bothers you,”
“Mhm,” He hums and stays relaxed.
He has the loveliest eyelashes, that’s the thought that echoes through your brain as you start working on him, and you wish it never occurred to you at all because you keep glancing up at his closed eyes. He lets you work, he knows you’re exhausted so he doesn’t push you for conversation, and you’re strangely grateful. You know he’s chatty sometimes in the chair, an extrovert through and through and always keeping Eunji company or talking with the member beside him, but right now he keeps still and gives you respite on a hard day.
You’re patting foundation into his skin with a large paddle brush when Iseul interrupts your thoughts, “Do you have that eggplant liner?”
“Check my table,” You offer, but with how sluggish your brain is feeling there’s no way you remember a single thing on your station without looking.
“Mm,” She pivots around and pokes through the products and tools behind you, and you glance over as San opens his eyes to watch Iseul rifle through things.
“Damn,” She mutters, “how much time do we have?”
“Um,” You glance down at your watch, “twenty?”
“Perfect,” She scoots behind you and disappears into the hall, no doubt to find your traveling makeup case and the liner.
You sigh, chewing the inside of your lip at the idea that you only have twenty more minutes, but you really don’t want to rush and have his makeup melt off on-stage.
“You’re fine,” San assures, his body angled towards you and Yunho now while he waits, “don’t worry about the clock,”
Yunho hums his agreement from below you, “Plenty of time,”
You refocus on Yunho’s skin and notice a long black and white hair from the paddle brush affixed to his cheek, mixed in with the foundation. You take the brush again, wiping off any excess foundation and checking to see if more fibers are loose, and then you work the brush against his cheek in an attempt to free the loose hair but it isn’t coming off easily. Every attempt you make just slides the hair into a different spot on his cheek and covers it with more foundation.
“Um,” You usually don’t like to do this, but you might have to, “can I just…”
His eyes open but his expression stays smooth, “Can you?”
“Sorry,” You shake your head, “do you mind if I touch you?”
“You already are,” He smiles, a small, amused crease between his brows you’ll have to pat out momentarily.
You tuck your brush away and gesture with your hand, “You just have a hair,”
“Oh,” He laughs, “of course, yeah,”
You’re just supposed to touch his cheek, brush away the hair with the pad of your finger and then get back to work, that’s all it is, so you’re completely unprepared for the feeling that rockets through your chest when your skin finally touches his.
Yunho gasps softly as your fingers brush over his cheek, his eyes blowing wide and his expression blanking, and it’s the only indication you have that he feels something too. A tightness wrenches in your chest, like someone pressed something hot and hard directly into your breastbone and your stomach does a somersault. Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest now that it’s started up again.
The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse.
“You,” Yunho manages, his voice shaky and you know for sure he felt it too.
You rock back a step, “I don’t understand,”
“Shit,” Someone else says, and then you realize that it’s San and you’re not alone with the only other person in the entire world, you’re in the middle of work in front of at least one other person and it’s only your existence that just got tilted on its axis. Yours and maybe Yunho’s.
“Oh,” You glance to the side, taking in San’s wide eyed expression, “oh my God,”
“I’m not insane, am I?” Yunho smiles, his focus entirely on you, and you think you might just pass out, “You felt that?”
There’s a noise in the hall and San scrambles up to his feet, “Iseul,” he says heading for the door, “do you need help looking?”
He’s covering for you both, but thoughts are slow to form and all you can manage is blinking at the man in your chair.
“You did, right?” He asks again, eyes soft and hopeful, and then his fingers brush over the center of his chest. Squarely over his breastbone.
He’s yours.
You want to reach out and yank up his shirt, check the tattoo over his heart to see if it’s the same looping knot shape as yours, but you don’t need to see it to know for sure. It’s him.
San says something about forgetting the liner altogether, a little louder so you both know the room is going to get crowded again, and you shake your head to jolt yourself out of your paralyzed position.
“You didn’t?” His hand falls.
“I did,” You rush to correct, “I’m, I don’t know,”
He nods, wetting his lips and shifting in his chair. He moves to reach for you, but reason and sense click back into place immediately and you realize that no matter what your tattoo feels like and no matter what this means, you’re at work and about to have a very private moment in a very public place if you’re not careful.
You shake your head with a glance at his hand and jerk your head towards the door, “Later,”
“Right,” He leans back from you, “of course, right,”
Footsteps to your right draw your attention and Iseul is huffing, checking her own watch, “We’ll do brown,”
“That’ll be fine,” San assures her, but his eyes are glued on the pair of you.
Iseul moves to step around you again and realizes you’re just standing there, “What’s with you?”
“Sorry,” You manage, blinking hard and refocusing, “I just got dizzy,”
It’s not entirely a lie, given that you felt the entire earth shift under your feet thirty seconds ago and your life is completely changed. Dizzy is the least of how you’re feeling.
Yunho’s expression shifts immediately, concern across his face, and he curls his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching out again, from being too familiar.
“Oh,” Her eyebrows raise high, “do you need me to finish Yunho?”
“N-no,” You take a breath, “just give me one second,”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Yunho asks, and in the back of your brain you wonder if his voice has always sounded this good.
“Here,” San cuts in smoothly, cracking the seal on a fresh water bottle and passing it over to you, “do you need to sit a minute?”
San’s hand rests on your upper back between your shoulders as you take a long sip of water, the cold shocking your brain back to reality in exactly the way you need.
“Thank you,” You tell him honestly, “I think I’m okay, just a headrush,”
San nods, and when you refocus your eyes on Yunho, you almost laugh. His gaze is squarely on San’s hand where it sits on your back, and you watch the fast, silent exchange between the two men when San drops his hand and Yunho realizes his own reaction. He blushes, ears running red and he dips his head to avoid both your eyes.
“Iseul,” San steps around you both and distracts your friend, “ready to wrap?”
“Yeah,” She agrees, “let’s finish up. You’re sure you’re okay, y/n?”
“Mhm,” You hardly trust your own voice, but you nod anyway, “I’m good now.”
Yunho tilts his face back up as you step close, and the tension between you is so palpable and so familiar that you can hardly breathe. Your tattoo feels warm and heavy and something tells you that his does too, you can see it in the tenderness of his brown eyes.
“Dizzy?” He asks quietly, keeping his words just for you.
You shake your head, “No,”
“That’s good,” He murmurs, but he lets whatever words he wants to say rest on his tongue.
Your tattoo throbs and you don’t dare touch his bare skin again.
His makeup takes fifteen more minutes and his eyes don’t stray from your face the entire time. You barely finish on time, and wardrobe is standing by to get them into their first outfits of the night, so when you put the final touches on he’s already being pulled out of the chair before you have a chance to say anything.
You want to corner him and ask him exactly when he’ll have time to talk later, but despite working together for the last few years, you and Yunho aren’t that close. You’re friendly, but you’re not familiar enough to casually ask what he’s doing later and not have it seem strange. While friendships between staff members and idols are not discouraged, even between the opposite sex, being overly familiar or suggestive would certainly leave a question in everyone’s minds, and you don’t want to draw attention to yourself that quickly.
This is between you and Yunho, no one else. You don’t want an audience for this.
So he goes, pulled away by wardrobe and his other members, fitted quickly into his Soundcheck outfit. He has his game face on, so do all the members, and you watch him disappear down the hall without a second glance back at you.
You collapse into the couch and press your eyes closed, focusing on the singular feeling of heat and soreness from your chest.
A soulmate.
The tattoo on your chest was one you barely looked at anymore, too focused on living your life to sit in the mirror and wonder about the person who would be your other half, the person that would slot into the gaps in your spirit with a simple brush of skin on skin. But now, it aches. It pulses to remind you that it’s real and that you’ve found him.
Everything in your life is about to change. Has already changed.
On the couch you don’t sleep as much as you disassociate, still stunned, your buzzing brain filtering out everything Iseul says as she cleans up around you and preps both of your brush belts for touch ups. There’s such a small amount of time between Soundcheck and the concert that you barely get to process, you just exist, playing the moment you touched him over again and again in your mind. Despite how utterly changed you feel, the world is just continuing on around you like a regular day.
Once again, you and Yunho miss each other for every brief moment between Soundcheck and stage.
The shift happens in the wings, in the underbelly of the stage where you and the other staff members for hair, makeup, and wardrobe wait for any last minute quick fixes. The eight of them are almost ready, pumping themselves up between rows of technical equipment and stage scaffolding.
There’s so much commotion around you and yet your eyes are drawn to him like a magnet, the feelings you once had for him coming back to you full force in a blurry torrent.
He shifts, stretches, swallows hard, and then looks up directly into your eyes. There’s a question in them that you can’t read, but you manage to smile.
His shoulders relax just a little.
You raise your fist, giving him the gesture for ‘fighting’ and he returns it with a wide grin.
“Alright,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through, the final step of their pre-show ritual as the concert hall starts to roar, “huddle up.”
The eight of them circle up with each other, one leg in and one out.
“We’ve practiced hard,” Hongjoong starts, patting his members on the back, “let that practice pay off, and have fun out there,”
“Okay!” San hypes them up, getting the tension high.
“Let’s give it our all,” Hongjoong continues, a wide smile on his face, “fighting!”
They echo it back, and a tense feeling starts to roll in your gut.
“Alright, one,” Hongjoong starts the count and you feel the tension in your own body rising, enough to make you take a soft step back from the group, “two,”
On three they chorus it, moving their feet in a synchronized step, “Eight makes one team! Fighting!”
They break apart, clapping each other on the back, and your eyes meet Yunho’s for one more fast second before he’s jogging after the rest of the members and finding his mark on the stage risers.
You feel the sensation of his eyes on you even after he’s gone. You have the length of four songs and their opening ments before members start swapping out on stage for makeup touch-ups and technical adjustments. The sound of the audience is intense, the start of the first song keying up, and you stumble back from your post to get a breath of air away from it all.
There’s a bathroom along the hallway two doors down from the green room that’s meant for staff and you blissfully find it empty. With shaking hands you flip the lock and sink down into a crouch, your back braced against the wall as you breathe through the sudden wave of feelings filling your chest.
Adrenaline, that’s what the bitter taste on your tongue is.
Your heart is thumping, double time like you’re running a marathon, and then you realize it. You can feel him, even now with the bond between you unfulfilled you can feel his emotions coming to you like a wave. Adrenaline, anxiety, euphoria, exhaustion, it all roils through you and you brace your hands on the wall to get your composure back.
They say the first time you feel your soulmate link it takes you by surprise, but this is an intensity you couldn’t have imagined. It’s all encompassing and honestly terrifying, and you’re struggling to understand which parts of you are you and which are him. You can’t conceive of how an accepted bond would make this feeling stronger when it already feels like your emotions and his are knit together so tightly.
Anxiety strikes down the link and you realize it’s not stage fright, it’s for you. He can feel your panic and your fear just like you can feel every ounce of his performance and if you don’t get yourself in check you’re going to be distracting him even more than you already are.
You yank yourself up off the floor and collapse against the sink, turning on the cold water tap and taking slow and steadying breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Counting slowly, relaxing your body with every pulse of oxygen through your system. You hope he can feel it, but you have no idea how this all really works. You’ll have to call your sister when this is all said and done, find out what she felt when she met her wife, but right now in this bathroom in Berlin you have to do this by yourself.
You hear the pulse of another song thrumming through the stadium as they keep performing, and you feel the thundering beat of his heart in your chest, but you breathe into it this time and try to keep yourself calm for his sake. You splash cold water on your face, keep breathing low and slow, and eventually you pull yourself back up to standing tall to look at yourself in the mirror.
You look the same as you did a few hours ago, before him, but the warmth in your chest is still present and you wonder if that will ever go away or if that’s just a permanent part of the link.
With shaky hands you unbutton your blouse and pull your bralette down in the center to reveal what you already know is there. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.
The tattoo nestled at the base of your sternum is the only one you were born with. Every other line of ink on your body was put there with intention, but this one you’ve had for as long as you can remember. The maedeup knot is small, but intricate, and until this moment it had always been colorless. Loops of black and gray twining together to make a rounded diamond, unbroken with no beginning or end to the threads.
Now the ink has changed, a deep red against your skin that makes the knotted josephin soulmark look even more traditional, but the skin is slightly inflamed, tender to the touch as you brush your fingertips along it. It feels like a fresh mark, not something you’ve had since birth, but considering how it’s changed, maybe it is new. A soulmark shifting color is common, you know that, but it still stands out so starkly against your skin and your other black tattoos. You can’t look away from it.
A pounding on the bathroom door makes you jump and you fix your shirt, covering the mark back up and buttoning it away. You wonder if Yunho’s mark is the exact same like other couples you know and if it too turned red, if it’s warm to the touch, if he felt you brush against your mark through the link.
“y/n?” A voice comes through the door and you shut off the tap.
“Coming!” You wipe the excess water on your hands onto your jeans and take one last, fast look to make sure your mark isn’t visible, before opening the bathroom door.
Wonshik, one of their many managers, is waiting for you on the other side. His eyes narrow when he sees you, “Are you ill?”
“No,” You assure him.
“You’re sure?” He presses, “We can’t afford to lose any more staff or risk getting the members sick if you are,”
“I know, Wonshik,” You nod, “I promise I’m just tired, jet-lagged. I was putting cold water on my face, that’s all. I’m not sick,”
He exhales in relief, his expression softening, “Thank God,” he says, “I can only take so many surprises.”
A little sickness is nothing compared to a staff member and an idol under a dating ban being soulmarked, but you hold your tongue.
“They’re about to come off,” He says, “Iseul was looking for you, she seems like she might start climbing the walls if you don’t get back to help her,”
“No, of course,” You start back towards the side stage entrance, “I lost track of time, but it won’t happen again,”
“Make sure you sleep tonight,” He adds, following you closely, “no sleep means no immune system, and no immune system means sick.”
“Don’t worry,” You promise, winding your way through the dark backstage, “you won’t lose me,”
“I better not,” He sighs, and then Iseul comes into sight.
“There you are!” She hisses low under her breath, “I was about to have a panic attack,”
“I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m good,” In the commotion, your brain starts to ease into normalcy. You’re used to this pace, the speed of lightning fast makeup touch-ups and assisting wardrobe when things start to go awry with their quick changes. The audience feels none of this, they just see smooth change-outs on stage and cool idols in new clothes, but backstage is a wild flurry and it always puts you on an entirely different plane of focus.
“Here we go,” A stage director starts, gathering everyone’s attention, “four minutes… starting…”
The stage goes dark and in the venue a video starts to play to the crowd to fill the space between costume changes. You prep your hands, making sure your kit is ready to go and you see the wardrobe specialists out of the corner of your eye readying themselves to help facilitate the quick change.
Suddenly they’re here, and the stage director interrupts once more, “Now, four minutes people, let’s go.”
“Mingi,” He gets to you first and he crouches down to drop his face to your height, “stay still one second,”
He says nothing, but he nods as you pat powder across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, checking him over for any other defects. He looks good and you nod, “Go, go,”
Mingi peels off to the left of you and you hear the sound of fabric swishing as he and Wooyoung rip off the top layer of their outfits behind the privacy screens and trade garments with the wardrobe team. It’s a fast shuffle, but you stay focused on who’s in front of you.
“Seonghwa,” You wave to him, pulling blotting tissues out of the pack on your belt, “here,”
He knows this drill well, you’re used to working with him and you have a clean routine down. He blots the sweat off his brow himself and starts to unbutton his jacket while you shift focus to Yunho.
For a split second you almost forget what happened earlier in the buzz of backstage, but the minute your eyes hold on his awareness floods you.
“Hey,” You say, but there’s a time clock shout behind you and you beckon him down, “come here, let me fix things,”
He drops down to your height just like Mingi did and stays steady while you work, but his eyes flick up, “You’re okay?”
“I’m good,” You nod, “don’t worry,”
His expression clears a little and you guess you have your answer about the feeling of the link going both ways.
Hongjoong clears his throat behind you both, “We’re short on time,”
“Am I good?” Yunho checks.
Your eyes flick over him fast, “Yep,”
He’s out of your eyeline a split second later, and you’re grateful for the distraction of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa, otherwise you’re sure you’d dwell a little bit too long on the fact that Yunho’s half naked next to you, privacy screen or no.
“One minute,” The stage director announces, “everyone’s doing great,”
The boys are almost done, flying through the last of their zips and getting their hair smoothed down by that team as they finish. You put the last pat of powder on Seonghwa’s nose and give him a nod before he’s gone too, dropping his jacket as he goes and giving you all a quick flash of his bare back.
You turn back towards the group as they prepare and your eyes zero in on Yunho again. His expression is serious, it’s his game face before he gets back out on stage, and you watch as he corrects the placement of his in-ears and ensures that his mic pack is secured. He runs through his pre-stage ritual and you can’t help but be a captive audience.
“Good work,” The stage director says as Seonghwa rejoins the eight, fully dressed and ready for stage, “fifteen seconds for act two,”
The crowd heats up again as the video starts to fade, and the members do their final checks. Yunho doesn’t look back at you once, his eyes forward and focused as he and the other members find their places on the rising platform that will take them back out to the main stage.
You can see him a little though, in the low light in his white trousers and blue satin shirt. He lifts his hand, adjusting his microphone once again, and then as he drops it back to his side he lets his fingers skim over the familiar hollow of his chest.
Your mark warms, you feel it as if it were your chest he brushed his fingers over, and your breath stops.
The platform rises, the crowd roars, and your heart starts beating to a new rhythm.
He really is yours.
It turns out that later means much later.
You manage to get out of dinner with some of the other staff members, but that just leaves you anxious and alone in a hotel room trying and failing to eat room service. Iseul would be back soon to take up her place in the other bed, and you’re starting to realize that you don’t have Yunho’s number.
Now that emotions are a little smoother, you can’t feel him. Or maybe you can, but it’s so faint that you’re not sure. All you know is that he’s definitely in the hotel, but that’s partially the solid feeling of your link with him and partially the YouTube live being broadcast from Seonghwa’s room where all of the members are.
You put the live on and watch, feeling strangely disconnected from the men on screen. You’ve known them for years, but suddenly with this new truth everything feels foreign and confusing.
You should call your sister, but it’s only six in the morning in Korea and even though this is an emergency of life altering and epic proportions, you can’t bring yourself to wake her on a Saturday.
You try your best to eat the pasta you ordered and watch as the live eventually ends. Your phone dings and for a split second you think it will be him, but it’s just Iseul telling you she’s heading back to the hotel.
A soft knock at the door makes your stomach lurch.
You’re frozen.
There’s another knock, a little firmer this time but then you feel the warm touch against your mark and you’re on your feet, your hand on the door handle before you can think.
He looks tired, that’s your first thought. His face is bare again, and his eyes are rimmed in a little bit of red like he just removed the day’s stage makeup. Despite all that, he smiles when he sees you and sighs, leaning against the door frame, “You’re awake,” he says.
“I waited,” You manage.
He grimaces, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” his eyes flick behind you into the room and he swallows, “are you alone?”
“Yes,” You nod, “but not for long, Iseul’s on her way,”
He nods, “Come to my room?”
“Are you sure?” Your eyes widen.
“We need to talk,” He nods, “can you get away for a little while?”
Iseul will probably expect you to be asleep, but you can’t let this go until morning. If you’re ever going to sleep you need to talk to him now.
“I’ll think of something,” You tell him, “what room?”
“2606,” He answers, reaching into his pockets and producing an envelope from the front desk, “take this,”
He passes you one of his room keys and you nod, “I’ll be up in five minutes, but you should go,”
“Okay,” He breathes and neither one of you makes a single move to step away from the door until a sound down the hallway pushes you into it.
“2606,” You repeat and he nods, swiftly moving down the hall before anyone can see him standing at your door.
You have no idea what you’re going to tell Iseul that would make sense, but you don’t care. You stack up your room service for collection, kick on a pair of slippers, and give yourself the fastest look in the mirror ever on your way out the door. You want to be gone before she gets back, the idea of facing her and lying ten times more difficult than an empty text.
No problem - I can’t sleep, I’m just going to walk a bit. Don’t wait up.
You don’t stick around to see if she’ll believe it.
You try to seem casual when walking to Yunho’s room, like it's yours. You don’t want anyone to give you a second glance and wonder where you’re going, so you keep your head up, smile at anyone you pass, and when his door comes into view you scan the card like it’s any other day.
When the heavy door shuts behind you, you sigh.
“God, finally,” His voice startles you, and you look up to see him pacing, “I’ve been going insane all day,”
Your shoulders drop, you aren’t alone, “Me too,”
He runs a hand through his black hair and finally stops pacing, but doesn’t come any closer, “So, this is real?”
“It feels pretty real,”
“How did we never feel it?” He manages, “I’ve known you for years,”
“We’ve never touched until today,” You tell him, and that has to be the reason, it’s the only thing that makes sense. You’ve been turning it over in your mind all night, and with the exception of bumping into him last week in the hall, it’s all been polite bows and waves.
“How is that even possible,” He breathes, “team dinners? Holiday parties? Work?”
“Skin to skin,” You murmur, “I think that’s what it was,”
“I had no idea,” He swallows, gesturing in the negative space between your bodies, “I always liked you, but I thought it was just, you know, a crush,”
“You what?” Your eyebrows raise.
“Well,” He backtracks, “not like that, it’s not like I’ve been holding a candle.”
Your face stays neutral, but he grimaces at his own words.
“I’m fucking this up,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.”
Your stomach warms, “Yunho, it’s okay, honestly,”
“I just meant I’ve always liked you, I thought about asking you out when our contracts loosened up if you were still single.” He clarifies and then you watch his face blanch, “You are single, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” You nod, “we don’t have to worry about that,”
He nods and you see him searching for the next thing to say, the right thing.
“Your mark,” You cut in, taking a few steps further into the room, “did it change?”
“Completely,” He nods, “did yours?”
“Yeah,” You wonder the right way to ask him if you can see.
“Does it feel,” He starts.
“Warm?”
“Yes,” He nods, “and tender?”
“Like a fresh tattoo,” You take another step in.
“I’ve never gotten a tattoo,” He confesses, “but I’ll take your word for it,”
“Can I,” The words are stuck on your tongue, “maybe this is weird, but I mean, I guess we’re soulmates,”
“You want to see it?” He surmises.
“Only if you’re comfortable,”
His lips quirk, “I’m comfortable,”
Heat twists in your gut and you wonder if he can feel that too. If he does he doesn’t say it, but you watch as he pulls the black t-shirt off over his head.
You’ve never seen his chest. Any inch of his skin except for his neck and arms really, and you guess that was part of keeping his soulmark covered. Idols always do, even when they’re in the most inconvenient locations, there’s always makeup or flesh colored tape or editing to take care of it. The idea that someone could replicate it and try to fake a connection is far too real for someone famous.
He drops his shirt onto the bed and pink tinges his cheeks as he gestures towards it, “Well,”
Your mouth drops, it’s the exact same, down to the size and the placement and every little loop and you stumble forwards to get a better look, “Yunho,”
“Yeah?”
“Has yours always been red?” You reach out, your fingertips hovering just over it.
He shakes his head, “Not before today,”
“Mine’s the same,” You tell him, your eyes glued to his sternum, “just the same,”
You know every centimeter of this tattoo. You’ve studied it a thousand times in the mirror, tracing over every curve with your eyes, trying to find the place where the cord starts and ends. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers brush gently along his mark, and you feel the ghost of the sensation against your own.
“I can’t believe we never knew,” You murmur, sliding your finger along each rounded edge.
“You feel that?” He asks, “Right?”
You’re nodding and moving to tug off your sweater before you can even think it through. He starts to shake his head, to say that you don’t have to, but you’re already tossing the sweater next to his discarded shirt and tugging down the front band of your bralette so he can see the whole mark.
His eyes flick over you fast, but with the matching mark in front of him he doesn’t focus on anything else, “It’s exactly the same,”
“I know,” You reach for his hand, but the minute more of your skin connects with his you feel your chest throb and you drop it like it burns you.
He winces, touching his chest again, “Is it supposed to hurt?”
“In the beginning,” You nod, “I think?”
“Does it always feel like that?”
“I’m not sure,” You admit, “I was going to call my sister and ask, but it’s too early at home,”
He smiles, “Your sister found her soulmate?”
“In highschool,” You smile back, “they’ve been bonded together since they were eighteen,”
“Older or younger?” He asks, and you realize just how little you know about each other despite how long you’ve worked alongside him.
“Younger,” You say.
“I have a little brother,” He replies, “but he’s still in school,”
You nod, painfully aware that this is such a strange conversation to have with your shirts off just standing in the middle of a hotel room, but somehow it’s easier than any date you’ve ever had.
Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mark and he reaches out a hand again, “Can I?”
Your heart quickens and you nod.
His fingertips graze over the edge of your mark, mimicking your touch from before, sliding along the edges of the tattoo. His eyes widen and you know he’s feeling the sensation in his own mark, a mirror image of each other.
“This doesn’t hurt,” He observes, letting his fingers linger.
“I think we have to get used to each other,” You remember that fact from somewhere, “the link has been dormant for a long time, I think it takes a minute to get used to having it,”
“Makes sense,” He murmurs, his eyes still squarely on your mark, “I’ll be honest though, I still really want to touch you,”
“Yeah?” Your voice is thready.
His fingers fall away and he nods, “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” You agree, painfully quickly.
He swallows tightly and takes the smallest step forwards, before offering out his hand, palm up and waiting for you.
Your eyes flick from his face down to his outstretched hand, and you reach for him slowly. You let your fingertips skate over the skin of his palm, down each digit, ghost the pads of your fingertips together. It’s warm, sharp and dizzying even just to brush against each other.
You wonder what more will feel like.
“Can I try something?” He murmurs, his voice nearly a whisper even though you’re all alone.
You nod.
He wets his lips unconsciously and moves a little closer, your bodies now only inches apart. Anxiety, anticipation, thrill, it all runs through your gut like a whirling wind and you shiver at the torrent of his emotions, a grin breaking out over your face.
His smile mirrors yours, “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute,”
“You can feel that?”
“Yeah,” He breathes, grin widening, “this is crazy,”
You laugh, a little nervous, a little elated, and he finally reaches out his hands.
He takes a steadying breath, and then his fingertips brush along your jaw.
You suck in a sharp gasp at the sensation, electric and hot, the feeling rocketing through your entire body. You tilt your face up to his as he continues his gentle touches, your eyes watching him as he studies you. His plush lips are parted, brown eyes wide with awe as he grows a little bolder to brush over your cheeks, down your throat, and back up to your jawline.
“Feel alright?” He murmurs.
You nod into his touch and he starts to lift off but you reach for him, “Don’t stop,”
Your hands land safely on his hips, still covered by his sweatpants and you watch him swallow again at the sudden contact, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Warmth fills the bond, no doubt the first threads of his arousal, and you wonder if he can feel your own. If he can sense how much he’s affecting you with just his fingertips on your face.
His hands settle back on your skin, this time smoothing across you with his palms, one hand cupping your cheek and the other sliding over your shoulder and down your bare back.
You can barely breathe, the room so silent and around you, like the only thing in the universe that exists is the two of you orbiting each other, standing at the precipice of something so catastrophic and wonderful.
Your hands adjust, resting on his taut abdomen as you move a little closer together, and his eyes flutter shut as he breathes through the sensation of your hands on him properly for the first time.
“You’re so warm,” You murmur, your hands softly tracing his abdominal muscles, instinct guiding you to touch more of him, seek out every inch of him as you unconsciously make a map of his body in your mind.
He hums pleasantly, eyes reopening, “So are you,”
He feels so right, so essential under your touch.
Yunho wets his lips softly with his tongue, and a nervous thrill passes through your belly. His eyes flick over you, the pad of his thumb sweeping a line over your lips. You suppress a needy sound, still trying to keep your head amidst the thrumming emotions and steady thumps of your heart.
He doesn’t stop, just stroking your skin slowly, fingers on your back pressing just a little as he sighs.
“Yunho,” You shiver.
“Cold?” He gravitates a little closer.
“N-no,” Your body is all but pressed flush against him now, and you have to lean your face up even more just to see him as he stands tall over you.
“I…” He starts to say something but lets the words die off, like he’s thinking something through, but then he sighs, “forget it,”
His lips are on yours.
Yunho lifts you, wrapping his arms around your back and tugging you up into his embrace. You gasp against his mouth, finding his shoulders to hold onto as one of his arms bands around your lower back.
The kiss is shattering, the world tilting once again, a new frequency humming between your two bodies. It’s hot, your skin buzzing from the contact, but the way you move together is fluid and easy. Your legs part naturally, settling around his hips and his free hand finds your plush thigh as he tugs you into place, slotting your bodies together like they were always meant to be.
“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your lips when he draws in a quick breath, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. His nose nuzzles against yours, and his lips part at the same moment yours do, tongues meeting in the space between your mouths to flick against each other.
“Don’t,” You push closer to him, fingers knotting into the back of his hair as you kiss him back.
He hums, the hand on your thigh sliding up to cup your ass and you shiver as his wide hand stretches across your backside, squeezing your pillowy flesh.
A tiny whimper does leave you then, liquid heat spreading through your body, the combined sensation of both your arousals giving you a headrush.
“So beautiful,” He sighs between kisses, “you’re so beautiful,”
“Yunho,” Your voice is thready, his name a stretched out sound.
He holds you close, nearly stumbling as he moves. You blink your eyes open just as he spins you both, pushing you up against the hotel wall and pinning you in place with the weight of his body. You should slow things down, but nothing in your life has ever felt this good and you find yourself diving back to meet his kiss again.
His arm slides out from behind your back as he pushes closer, your body fully supported by the flat of the wall behind you and his hips under yours and one hand firmly anchored on your ass. With his arm free he cups your cheek, a pleased sound on his lips as he dips you back into the wall and deepens the kiss.
Heat blooms through you, your kisses getting needier, artless and desperate just to get a little closer together. The kind of kissing that sounds as messy as it is, tiny pants and moans muffled between you, skin on skin, tongue on tongue.
“God,” He shudders, his lips breaking away, but his eyes only flick over you for a second before he dives back in. This time his lips travel, hot kisses across your jaw and back to the hollow of your ear, down your throat as he holds you a little higher on the wall for the right access.
You grip his shoulders with one hand and lock your fingers in his mess of black hair with the other, your head falling back against the wall. He pants against your throat, a soft groan as he kisses, and your stomach tightens pleasantly.
“Y-Yunho,” You gasp, arousal rolling through you, and unconsciously you rock your hips, desperately seeking some kind of friction.
He hums low in his throat, kissing back up your neck fast to get to your lips again and his hand slides off your cheek as he crowds you tighter, bracing himself against the wall above your head. His abdomen presses against your core, and even through layers of fabric you feel his heat. Hungrily, you roll your hips again and catch a little pressure, moaning in earnest against his mouth.
Yunho makes a tight sound and then he breaks the kiss, his forehead pressing hard against yours as he takes in slow breaths, his body all but trembling with need as he holds you.
“We need to slow down,” He manages.
You can’t find words, not yet, but you nod against him.
“You deserve better,” He says, “dates, presents,”
You laugh softly, your hand in his hair softening from a grip to a gentle hold, carding through the long locks at the base of his neck, “I don’t need all that,”
He smiles wide, brushing off your words, “Still,” He sighs, still recovering from the heated make out, “I think I have more self control than fulfilling our bond by fucking you into the wall,”
Reality bleeds back in at that. Soulmarks were just that, indicator marks. A way to find your person amidst a sea of thousands, if not millions. All the shared sensation and emotion a precursor to something more permanent and binding, something only sealed together by sex.
You lift your head up, and he leans back to mirror you.
“I lost my head there,” You admit, warm blush in your cheeks, “I didn’t know it would feel like this,”
He smiles, and you take in his expression. His hair is a mess, mussed and disheveled and his face is pink from his nose down to the dark, well-kissed curve of his lips. His bare chest is flushed bright pink and his eyes are bright and warm. You fight the urge to kiss him again.
“Me either,” He shakes his head, “it’s incredible,”
“Overwhelming,” You nod, exhaling softly.
He makes a soft sound to agree and then starts to push back from the wall gingerly, letting you slowly unwrap your legs from his waist and ease down to the floor.
He lets you go when you’re steady on your feet and clears his throat, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants and running a hand through his tangled locks. He’s hard, that much is obvious from the distinct outline of his cock through the gray fabric, but you do your best to look away and not think about how thick and heavy it looked just from kissing you.
“Jesus,” He adjusts his sweats again, “sorry,”
“It’s fine,” You cup your own cheeks with cool fingers, “I promise you’re not the only one,”
His eyes hold yours for a lengthy beat and then he swallows, taking a wide step back and nodding, “Right,” he shakes his head, “we’re supposed to be slowing down.”
“Slow,” You lean against the wall behind you, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to steady your thumping heart.
“I’m going over here,” He grins and walks to the far wall by the door to the bathroom, leaning back and crossing his own arms, “we really should talk,”
A pulse of anxiety flickers through you, and you realize just how quickly you went from his hotel room door to nearly falling into bed. He’s handsome, a kind man, your once upon a time crush, and certainly fated to be a good match for you, but that doesn’t mean you should throw out good sense and rush things. No matter how much your impulses were screaming at you to do just that.
You try to ignore the fact that there’s a bed between you, and you nod, “You’re right,” you finally say, “we barely know each other,”
Yunho’s smile fades just a bit, “I wouldn’t say that,”
“We’re coworkers,” The words tumble out, “I know what we’re both feeling, but,”
His brow furrows as he thinks through your words and he shakes his head, “y/n,” he cuts you off, “do you believe in soulmates?”
“Yes, of course,” Even if you hadn’t before, the way you’re feeling now would be enough to dispel any skeptic.
He takes in a quick breath, the sound sharp as he draws it through his teeth and he cocks his head slightly to the side, “You’re scared,” he massages the top of his sternum with his fingers, and you recognize your own chest is tight with anxiety, “I can feel it, talk to me.”
The instant vulnerability of the bond is startling, and you can feel your own expression crumble. It’s suddenly a bit like being an ant caught under a magnifying glass, too much sharp attention all at once and you swallow tightly, eyes flicking away from his tender gaze.
“y/n,” He murmurs, “I’m not pushing for more, not tonight,”
“Yeah,” Your voice is soft, too quiet for your own liking. Something about the way he sees you so clearly and so quickly makes you feel exposed, nervous and strangely childlike.
“Hey,” He breaks through your little thought spiral, “look at me,”
You straighten up again, finding his eyes.
“I’m just happy I found you,” He tells you, and you feel the truth of it in your gut, “we can figure everything else out together, and at our own pace, okay?”
Relief spreads through you, the knot in your chest loosening, “Promise?”
“Promise,” He nods, raising one hand with his pinky extended, “I just want us to try,”
You nod, extending your own pinky to seal it, “Me too.”
He smiles at that, “Barely know each other,” he scolds softly, “I’m offended.”
“Oh yeah?” Tension bleeds out of your shoulders.
“Mhm,” His expression is full of cheek, “I’m the one with a crush, remember? I notice things,”
Your stomach flips pleasantly and your arms relax from their tight position crossed over your chest, “What things?”
“Let’s see,” He starts, and for a brief moment you think maybe he’s bluffing, but the moment he starts you melt and he holds your gaze as he warmly recites all the little things he’s noticed about you over the years.
“You only wear silver jewelry,” he notes first, nodding towards you.
Your tight hands uncurl.
“You have a ridiculous sweet tooth,” The more he talks the more he relaxes against the far wall, “and you start getting flushed after the second shot of soju, you really are a lightweight,”
“You always pick a Big Bang song for karaoke, and you’re late to work every Monday,” He laughs a little at that and keeps going, “you don’t wear a lot of color but when you do it’s red. We’re both from Gwangju but you moved to Seoul when you were five,”
Your heart starts to beat a little faster, warmth filling you again and you don’t know if it’s your affection or his anymore, but it hardly matters.
“Um,” He takes a deep breath and glances away for a moment and then catches more threads from his memory, “you’re a Sagittarius, you’re a runner, and the last book I saw you reading was Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. I bought it, but I haven’t had a chance to read it just yet,”
“Yunho,” You find yourself smiling, a hand over your surprised lips.
“I’m just saying,” He shrugs a little, “we aren’t strangers. I know this is scary and fast and going to change the rest of our lives,”
Elation, pure joy, spills over unfettered from his side of your new emotional tether.
“But I like you,” He confesses, “I have for a while, and this,” he brushes his fingers along his soulmark, “just changes the timeline.”
He’s yours.
You push off the wall, crossing the room and all but leap back into his embrace, your arms looping around his shoulders again as you push up on tiptoe to kiss his lips.
“This is real,” You murmur.
“Yes,” He cups your cheeks, nodding as he pecks your lips again.
“You’re mine,”
“Yes,” He grins.
“Oh, this is crazy,” You laugh, forehead against his again.
“We’ll go slow,” He assures you again, “we’ll figure it out together,”
“Together,” You nod.
He dips low once more, this kiss more tender, and he separates you both before things can heat up again. “Hmm,” He glances across the bed and makes a small face at the time displayed on the digital clock, “did you eat?”
“I tried to,” You confess, “I was nervous,”
“You need to eat,” He snaps up his black shirt from the bed and slips it back on, and your chest warms. It’s strangely domestic, strangely commonplace like you’ve been in this position a thousand times before.
Yunho adjusts his shirt and then kisses your hair as he passes by you, padding over to the hotel microwave and searching through the assorted snacks and instant meals, “It’s too late for room service,”
“I’m okay,” You pull your own sweater back on and sit on the edge of his bed.
“y/n,” He glances back, a softly scolding tone.
“Really, you need to sleep,” You offer.
He dismisses that thought, “But I’m hungry, eat with me?”
You concede, and while he starts whipping up two servings of ramen, you wonder if this is what he’s going to be like. It makes sense, he’s always been a caretaking kind of person, but having it so tenderly directed at you feels right.
“When we get home,” He says as he pours in the spice packets, “I’ll take you somewhere nice,”
“This is nice,” You smile.
“y/n,” He sets the ramen on a side table and sits next to you, “this is cup noodle from a hotel microwave,”
“The company is nice,” You take the ramen happily though, and tuck into the warm meal.
“It is,”
“Mm, you know,” You slurp back some noodles and softly clear your throat, “you weren’t the only one with a crush,”
He freezes, letting his noodles drop back into his cup, “What?”
“I’ve always liked you,” Your own confession feels easier after his, “I put it aside since we work together, but I guess, I mean, what I’m trying to say is that we both felt it before the mark, you’re not alone in that.”
“I had no idea,”
“I’m very professional,” You tease him lightly.
He nudges you and tucks back into his noodles, “How long?”
“Hmm,” You get more comfortable, crossing your legs and scooting back a little onto the mattress, “I thought you were cute when we first met,”
“God,” He groans, “we were such kids,”
You nod, swallowing another bite, “Mhm, you had that blonde hair,”
He laughs.
“I remember thinking, ‘that one’s trouble’,” You confess.
“Me?” His eyebrows perk up, “I’m perfectly nice,”
“Trouble as in you’re my type,” You roll your eyes, “but I don’t think the crush properly came until later. You’ve always made me laugh, and when I realized how I was feeling I just did my best to keep some distance,”
He nods, face getting a little serious, “I know what you mean,”
That knowledge leaves you both a little quiet. The late hour, the adrenaline come down, all of it barrels into you at the same moment as the next anxious thought. How in the world were you both going to navigate this with a contract as tight as theirs and the public eye always watching?
“Yunho,” You murmur, the last of your noodles left to go cold as you sit with that thought, “Are we going to be able to figure this out?”
“Figure what out?” He looks genuinely confused by your question, “Us?”
“You’re an idol,” You nod towards him, “I’m staff,”
He rests a hand on your knee, “We’ll be fine,”
“Aren’t your contracts,” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks.
“They’re strict, yes,” He nods, “year seven,”
Dating, romance, even the perception of it was more than discouraged by companies in this industry, their artists contractually obligated to be single and available and dedicated only to their fans. Five years would have been the industry standard to prevent any idol from being caught out with a partner, let alone a potential soulmarked one, but seven is excessive.
You blanch, “That’s almost two years away,”
“We will find a way,” He says, “we’re not the first people in the industry this has happened to,”
“Really?” You perk up, “Who?”
He falls short, “Well, I don’t know exactly, but it’s bound to have happened.”
“And then ruined their careers,” You groan, flopping back flat on the mattress and covering your face with a hand, “which is why we’ve never heard of them,”
Yunho laughs, earnestly laughs, and takes the half empty ramen cup out of your hand to discard, “Maybe, but for now, let’s just stay positive. Get to know eachother better,”
You nod.
“Nothing can change the fact that we found each other,” He points out, dropping down onto his side on the bed next to you, “and I’m okay with that.”
“So we just lie to everyone?” You chew at the inside of your lip, staring up at the white ceiling.
“Hey,” Yunho’s fingers tuck under your chin and draw your eyes to him, “I know you’re anxious,”
You sigh, letting his softness calm you again.
“I know,” He repeats, “I am too, but we don’t have to decide anything tonight. We’re both tired and it’s been an emotional day,”
“Okay,” You nod, “okay, yes, you’re right,”
His thumb strokes over your cheek again, and you watch him exhale and sink further into your touch, “Will you stay tonight?”
That wakes you up.
Your eyebrows raise, “Stay?”
“Just to sleep,” He assures you, “I just… I don’t want to be without you yet,”
“I need to get back before Iseul wakes up if we do that,” You note with a grimace.
“What time?” He glances back to the clock.
“Seven,” You say, “her alarm is set for seven-thirty,”
“We can do that,” He grabs his phone off the side table and sets an alarm, “we’ll get up,”
The pull between your bodies is so strong you’re fairly sure you would have stayed no matter the consequences, but you nod, “Then I’ll stay,”
He grins and pushes himself off the bed, “I’ve got clothes, if you want to get comfortable,”
“Sure,” you sit up and wait for him to find things in his still packed suitcase.
“Um,” He pulls a pair of black sweatpants from the bag, “these should work, and if you get cold,”
You smile as he grabs a gray hoodie and comes back to you.
As you start to pull off your sweater again, he turns around and leaves his back to you, “Sorry,”
“Thanks,” You chuckle, making short work of changing. You’re swimming in his clothes, but his sweatshirt smells like him and you just want to bury your face into it, “you can turn around now,”
His shoulders relax as he turns back, and you watch his lips part as he takes you in.
“What?”
“You look cute,” He clears his throat, shrugging off his reaction.
You smile and ease back onto the bed, “Oh, I get it,” you laugh, “is your guy brain on fire because I’m wearing your clothes? Is this some kind of… you won the competition, ownership thing?”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes, kneeling on the bed to shuffle closer, “No competition when you’re literally fated for me,”
“Right,” You let the word drag out on your tongue to tease him.
“But I like taking care of you already, and now you’re warm and comfortable,” He collapses next to you onto the mattress with a sigh, “and I know I don’t own you, but you are mine, just like I’m yours now. I won’t apologize for liking you in my clothes or in my bed, for liking when you look like my girlfriend,”
Warmth blooms in your cheeks and you duck your face into the sheets.
“Now come get under the covers,” He maneuvers the duvet, “it’s late, you were dead on your feet today,”
His voice is so warm and familiar, and you slide into the covers beside him.
In bed you keep a little distance, and despite the number of times both of you say that you should go to sleep, your conversation is almost impossible to stop. Yunho holds your hand in the middle space of the mattress between your bodies, and in the dim lighting of the hotel room you whisper thought after thought back and forth. A million things coming to mind you need to tell each other so suddenly now that you’ve found each other.
As you talk his fingers travel, restlessly stroking your skin, up and down your arm and tapping out patterns. When his palm slides back and forth over the sharp lines of the tattoos on your upper arm, and you feel the question slipping out of your lips and revealing more about yourself than you intended before you can catch it.
“Your parents,” You blurt out, “will they be happy?” He’s spoken about them so much over the past hour that you can’t help but ask him that question point blank.
“So happy,” He responds with ease, a laugh on his lips, “they always worried me being an idol meant I’d never be able to find the one and settle down, they’re going to love this story,”
You smile at the easy way he calls you ‘the one’, but the question you really asked still remains unanswered and you exhale softly, “But,” you manage, “will they be happy with me?”
Yunho stills, reaching across the bed to hook his finger under your chin and draw your eyes up to his again, “Very happy,” he says, “just like I am.”
Your muscles relax, his words a soothing balm, and you adjust your position on the pillow beneath you, “Just checking,”
“Mhm,” He studies your face, “jagi, why wouldn’t they be happy with you?”
The endearment slips off his lips with ease, and a burst of warmth spreads through you. You’ve never needed pet names and softness like this from a partner, but from him it makes your heart quicken.
The momentary elation fades though, and his question comes back into your mind. You take a deep breath, you owe it to him to tell him now, “My family won’t be happy,”
“With me?” His eyebrows raise.
“It’s me,” You shake your head, “my parents have difficult ideals, and I’ve never pleased them. It wouldn’t matter who you were, they… they’ll find a way to not be happy for me.”
His eyes soften, and his thumb strokes along your jaw, “I’m sorry,”
“It is what it is,”
“Are your parents soulmates?” He asks softly.
You shake your head, “No, they don’t really believe in soulmarks,”
You watch his eyes widen in surprise.
“Unless,” You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “the match is ‘fortuitous’,”
“For status?” He surmises.
“Status, money,” You shrug, “connection. But I think I could marry the next president and they’d still find a way to be disappointed in me,”
His jaw flexes tense for just a moment, before his expression smooths over again.
“Anyway,” You clear the bad thoughts away as quickly as they came, “my sister and I never went along like they wanted, like my cousins and the rest of my family, so we are the great disappointments. It’s not… it’s fine, but, I guess you should know before we, you know,”
He smiles, a bit of amusement in his expression that you can’t place, “Did you think having bad parents would scare me off?”
“It could,”
“No,” He slides a hand under your side and tugs you across the mattress to press a fast kiss to your lips, “it never could.”
“But I’m,” You start, all the reasons why a partner might care ringing in your ears.
“Beautiful?” He cuts you off, “Just my type? If it’s anything else I don’t want to hear you say it,”
Your stomach flip flops hard and you push lightly against his chest to get him to stop.
“The thing is,” He brushes your hair back from your cheek, “my parents are soulmates. I grew up in a house full of a lot of love, even when they were being strict and scolding us.”
Your smile at his warm expression.
“So I know they’ll love you,” He explains, “they know what this feels like, what it means. I have plenty of family for us both,”
Your throat constricts, tears threatening for a moment.
“Your sister, though,” He grounds you out of the bad thoughts without even thinking, “you two are close?”
“Very,”
“I’d like to meet her,” He smiles.
“You two would get along great, my sister and her wife both, actually,”
Yunho nods, listening attentively, “Do they have kids?”
“Not yet,” You groan, “but I’m dying to be an auntie,”
His thumb drags a comforting line across your cheekbone, his expression warm and affectionate, “Cute,”
You sink into the pillows, a yawn creeping up to your lips, “She’s going to lose her mind when I call her,”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” You huff a laugh, “she thought that when I started working here I should have found an inconspicuous way to bump into all of you to test possible bonds. She’s going to be riding the ‘I told you so’ train.”
“She’s funny,” He smirks.
“Very,” You sigh, unconsciously cuddling into his warmth.
“Has it been a while since you’ve seen her?” He asks softly, adjusting his arms around you so that you’re cradled against his chest with the pillows at your back.
“Mhm,” You yawn again, the warmth of his body settling the last of the adrenaline inside you, “a while,”
“Let’s find a day off after the tour,” He tucks the duvet around you.
“Yeah?” Your eyes feel heavy.
“Yeah,” He kisses your forehead.
“Yunho,” You yawn again, dipping your forehead into his chest, “God, I’m so tired again,”
“Mhm,” He yawns too, “me too, jagi,”
You hum softly, fingers slipping under the edge of his shirt just to feel a little skin, “I like that,” you murmur, “I like you,”
“I like you too,” He chuckles, “now go to sleep,”
A piece of you wants to protest, wants more time cocooned in this day with him, but something about his body feels so right. After a week of sleeping poorly, your body tight and anxious and heart fluttering for no reason at all, when he touches you, your mind goes blissfully blank.
Your muscles relax, your breath dropping low and soft in your chest.
Nuzzled against his tattoo, you drift.
You’re supposed to wake up to an alarm. Early enough that you could slip back into your hotel room and your own bed to yawn and stretch next to Iseul and make her believe you were there the whole night. That’s what was supposed to happen.
Instead, you wake to the heavy sound of a hotel door and Seonghwa’s voice, Yunho jolting awake beside you.
“Oh my god,” Seonghwa says for what sounds like the third time to your fuzzy sleep-addled brain, “oh my god?”
“Hyung,” Yunho pushes himself up, his arms unwinding from around you, “hey, don’t freak out,”
“Don’t freak out,” Seonghwa’s eyes blow wide, “are you fucking kidding me? Hongjoong is going to kill you,”
“You don’t understand,” Sleep is still heavy on him and he shakes his head to try to pull himself away.
“I understand plenty,” Seonghwa counters, “how long have you been lying to us?”
His reaction surprises you, and you ease yourself up to sit next to Yunho. You’re not sure what to say or not say, you don’t know what they’ve discussed in the past when it comes to dating and relationships, but by Seonghwa’s outburst you can guess it’s honesty at a minimum.
Yunho’s face falls, “No, it’s not that,”
“I can tell you what it looks like,” Seonghwa lowers his voice to what amounts to a stage whisper.
“Hyung,” Yunho rubs his eyes, running a hand through his mop of black hair.
“It looks like you’ve been sneaking around,” He continues, “how long have you two been fucking?”
“Hey,” Yunho’s voice sharpens, and his hand crosses your body to anchor on your opposite thigh.
Seonghwa’s eyes track it and he shakes his head, “This is so stupid,” he steps back in surprise, “you’re both being so, incredibly stupid.”
Yunho gives you a squeeze and opens his mouth to reply but Seonghwa keeps going.
“Naive is what it is,”
Irritation bubbles in your gut and you can’t stop yourself, “Seonghwa, will you shut up for one second?”
He stops in his tracks, mouth falling open, “What?”
“Can you please,” You hold his gaze, “please, just listen to Yunho for a minute before you jump to conclusions.”
He shifts, taking a step back and crossing his arms, and then he looks to Yunho.
Yunho finds your eyes quickly, silently asking, and you give him a nod.
“Okay,” Yunho runs a hand through his hair again, “I’ll just say it.”
Seonghwa waits, his expression completely neutral except for the irritated corner of his lips.
“y/n is my soulmate,” Yunho squeezes your thigh again and you slip your hand into his to twine your fingers together, “we didn’t know, but now we do.”
Seonghwa’s brows go high, shock filling his features.
“We’re not hiding,” You add, “we just… it’s just,”
“How long?” Seonghwa manages.
“Soundcheck yesterday,” Yunho says, “we haven’t known long enough to lie, hyung.”
“You’re sure?” He looks between you both, and you know what he’s thinking. How could it be possible to know each other for years and not know.
“We’re sure,” You answer confidently, calmly, “I swear,”
“It’s real,” Yunho’s thumb strokes across knuckles, “it’s very real.”
Seonghwa swallows, taking in the news and sinks back against the hotel dresser, “Well, fuck,”
“Yeah,” Yunho laughs.
“You were off timing yesterday,” Seonghwa points out, “and distracted,”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Yunho grimaces.
“No, but,” He shrugs, “I know you and you’re never off time.”
“It wasn’t easy to focus on the show yesterday,” Yunho admits.
“I’m sorry,” You nudge him with your shoulder, knowing a huge portion of that must have been the panic flooding his side of the link.
He shakes his head, “There’s nothing to be sorry for,”
When you look back up, Seonghwa is smiling and he sighs, “Oh, you’ve both got it bad.”
“Obviously,” You hide your face in your sweatshirt sleeve.
“So, what’s the plan?” Seonghwa asks, “Because you can’t act like this around anyone else,”
Your mouth feels dry.
“We don’t know,” Yunho answers, “we have to figure that out, for now I think we just try to keep things normal.”
Seonghwa nods and then leans forward, “Listen, I know you’re not asking for my advice,”
You both wait.
“But you're my brother,” Seonghwa says unequivocally, “so I’m going to give you some anyway.”
Yunho nods.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Seonghwa points out, “and I’m sure it will be hard to act like acquaintances in front of everyone, but you have to do it, at least until you make a plan.”
“Yeah,” Yunho’s cheeks are a little pink and he squeezes your hand.
“No one fires the idol for things like this,” He reminds you both, “so for her sake, put it away for today.”
“He’s right,” You nod, “today we go back to coworkers,”
Yunho draws your clasped hands up and kisses your fingers, “Okay,”
“You’re lucky I offered to check on you,” Seonghwa sighs heavily, “if any of the managers came in,”
“Check on me?” Yunho perks up at that, “Hwa, why,”
Things come into focus for you at that moment, how bright the hotel room is with sunlight, how well rested you really feel. You twist in the bed and look at the digital clock, “Oh no,”
“You were late,” Seonghwa explains, “we figured you overslept, I offered to use the spare key to get you up.”
“Fuck,” Yunho curses.
You both slept straight through Yunho’s alarm.
“Iseul is going to fucking kill me,” You roll out of bed, your hands breaking apart as you scramble for you phone, “what the hell am I going to tell her?”
Your phone reads nine-thirty. In thirty minutes you’re supposed to be packed into a van and on the way to the venue and when you look at the collection of notifications your stomach churns.
Three calls from Iseul, and a lengthy string of text messages.
Did you already get up and get ready?
Your work bag is still here…
Not funny, girl, where are you?
Did you make it back last night?
Can you answer me??
I’m getting worried. I haven’t heard anything - You haven’t even read these?
You better not be dead in a ditch, I’ll kill you myself.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hands are trembling as you tap out the fastest reply - Alive, be right there.
Yunho’s a whirlwind behind you, stripping out of his sleep clothes and yanking on whatever outfit is at the top of his suitcase, “It’s fine, it’s going to be fine,”
“Sure,” You search the floor for your jeans and dart into the bathroom, “my best friend is going to murder me though,”
You change at lightning speed, swapping his sweats for your jeans and then tying up your hair into a messy bun before pushing back out into the main room.
“Everyone’s downstairs,” Seonghwa offers, “you shouldn’t run into anyone on the way back to your room.”
“Good, okay, good,” Your heart is pounding, “where’s my room key?”
“Here,” Yunho darts forwards and finds the little envelope, passing it to you, “take a breath,”
“I have to go,” You manage, “I have to think of something,”
“Don’t kiss and tell,” Seonghwa offers and he’s being funny but it’s vaguely helpful.
“Wait,” Yunho grabs your hand and tugs you back, snapping your phone out of your hand.
“Yunho, I don’t,” You start to say but he waves you off.
He types fast, adding himself as a contact in Kakao Talk, “My number,” he explains.
Seonghwa huffs a laugh.
You take the phone back and tuck it into your pocket, “I’ll message you later,”
“Good,” He dips forwards and presses one warm, tender kiss to your lips, “now get out of here,”
You kiss him back, just once and fast, a little shred of self indulgence before you have to act like he’s just another guy, and then you’re darting out of the room, shouting back a thank you at Seonghwa as you go.
You navigate the halls fast, and opt to take the stairs to get down one floor faster and more inconspicuously. You take a deep breath when you get to your hotel door, and then you dive.
“So you are alive,” Iseul’s waiting, just like you thought she might be. She’s sitting on your still made bed, her phone in her hands and a tense expression on her face, “I was just about to tell the managers you were missing,”
“I’m so sorry, seriously, I didn’t mean to worry you,” You take a few steps into the room.
Her eyes flick over you, and you realize at the moment her eyes widen that you’re still wearing Yunho’s hoodie, your sweater still discarded on his bedroom floor.
“You hooked up with someone?” Her voice spikes, “Are you kidding me?”
Thankfully the hoodie is plain, just a heather gray with no identifying attributes that scream his name, but you’re still swimming in it and it’s clear you’re rumpled from bed.
“Listen,” You hold up your hands, “I didn’t mean to not text you, I just fell asleep,”
“With some guy?” She stands.
“Yes,” You settle on some version of the truth.
“Who?” She flounders, “We’re supposed to text each other,”
And you always did, when either one of you went home with someone there was always a little preemptive safety report. A name, an address, a shared location, something so that you weren’t completely alone in the world with a strange guy.
“I’m sorry,” You say again.
She studies you, and it’s like she’s looking through you.
“Oh my god,” Her eyes widen, “we know him.”
“Iseul,” Your cheeks heat.
She points at you, “I’m right!”
“It’s not a big deal,” You skirt around her words.
“The only reason you wouldn’t text me is if you were with someone we both know,” She narrows her eyes, “so give it up.”
“I can’t,” You press, “leave it,”
“Why are you being so weird?”
“Iseul,” You sigh, avoiding her gaze, “I just woke up in a panic, and I have like fifteen minutes to get showered, can you give me the third degree later?”
“I’m not letting this go,”
“Yeah,” You pull off Yunho’s sweatshirt and head to the bathroom, “I know, but we have work.”
“Work with a coworker you slept with,” She stands in the doorway while you start the shower, and you realize her tone isn’t so much as angry anymore but probing.
“I didn’t sleep with him,” You groan, “well, I guess I did, but we didn’t have sex, okay?”
“That’s awfully cozy for a one night stand,” She crosses her arms, “unless you’re seeing someone? Are you seeing someone?”
“No,” You test the water heat and unbutton your jeans, “I swear I’ll explain another time, but can you just drop it for today? Or do you want to stand here and watch me shower?”
“Fine,” She concedes, “you will tell me?”
“I swear,” You nod, “I want to tell you, but I’m not ready yet, okay?”
Her eyes soften up at that, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” You nod, “but I’m having big feelings about it and I need to work it out,”
“Oh,” In all the years you’ve known her, she’s never seen you in love or even close, and she just blinks, “got it,”
“Can I shower now?” You gesture towards the running water.
“Yeah,” She steps back, “yeah, but I’m still mad you didn’t text me.”
“Okay,”
“And I’m still going to guess who it is,” She smirks.
“Fine,”
Her smile widens and she rolls her eyes, “I bet it’s one of the BB guys, isn’t it? You always like a dancer,”
She turns the corner before she can watch you blushing harder, so nearly on the money with her guess, but you put it all out of your mind for now and focus on your day. You’re late, and it’s about to be another long one. You’ll have time for everything else later, if you can just keep your cool.
Work is bizarre to say the least. You and Yunho both do an excellent job of not looking at each other except for when he’s in your makeup chair, and you’re getting better and better at ignoring both San’s and Seonghwa’s nervous glances.
This time you start the makeup early, less time pressure with the schedule adjustments, and the night goes off without a hitch. Soundcheck to stage to VIP benefits, it’s a whirlwind and you’re grateful for the distractions everywhere you look.
You can still feel him, emotions from his side of the link ebbing and flowing throughout the day, but the sharp intensity of yesterday has dulled a bit after your night together. In quiet moments you find yourself thinking about his lips, or the way his hands held you as you tumbled into sleep, but you push it down and stay professional.
As the show ends, Iseul ropes you into team dinner, desperate to observe who you interact with and how, still on her quest to find your mystery bed partner, but the boys aren’t there and so there’s nothing for her to really see.
Later, with Iseul passed out from one too many shots of soju, you slip back into Yunho’s hoodie and cuddle into the warmth of your own bed. You need more sleep, you know that, but your brain isn’t cooperating. You toss and turn in the sheets, body feeling like a taut cord, and all you can think of is him.
You miss him.
It’s not even two days of having him in your life like this and you feel nervous and achy without him. There’s no way you’ll survive two years of this.
Over an hour passes as you sigh, changing positions again and again, and then your phone finally buzzes. You scramble to see if it’s a message from him, nearly dropping your phone in the process.
Can’t sleep? - He must be feeling your restlessness.
Not at all - You reply, chest feeling warm at the contact.
Little bubbles pop up immediately to indicate he’s typing and then another message pops on your screen - You’d think after last night we’d both be exhausted.
So you’re as awake as I am?
Just can’t relax. I liked having you here last night. - He confesses.
You roll over in the bedding onto your front and push the pillow under your chest before you keep texting - I liked it too. I’d come up except Iseul wouldn’t lay off guessing who I was with this morning.
Oh? Did she guess correctly? - You can practically see the smirk on his face.
Nope - You tease back.
Was she upset? - He asks.
At first, but I told her I would tell her soon I just needed some time - You reply.
That’s good, honest. - His message makes you smile.
How was Seonghwa? - You tap out.
Fine…. stressing and acting like a hyung, you know - He says.
You smile and type out another message - Is he keeping this to himself for now?
Yes - Yunho’s message comes in, and then another - For now, he knows we need to decide things first.
That’s good - You send back.
Things lull for a moment, and you try to think of something more to say, but Yunho swoops in with a question that makes you bite your lip to keep from laughing - Who did Iseul guess you were with? Was I even on the list?
I thought you’d be happy she didn’t guess - You reply.
Bubbles appear immediately, then another message - I’m a little offended, I’m the obvious choice.
Why’s that? - You tease him.
You feel something warm in your chest, and his next message flies back - I thought I was your type?
You stifle another laugh - You are, she’s not very observant.
So who did she guess?
Your belly flip flops and you hide your face in the pillow for a moment. His obvious jealousy, even just to tease you, is making your heart quicken and you can’t stop yourself from making it harder on him.
You take a breath and reply - About half the BB crew and a few of your managers.
The replies don’t come for a moment, and you nervously refresh the chat.
Finally a message comes in - I’m trying to think of something funny to say, but I’m actually just irrationally jealous.
She was just teasing, no need to be jealous - You smile into your hand.
Doesn’t matter - He says - Now I’m just here alone wondering which of our coworkers Iseul thinks you have chemistry with
He is jealous. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the swooping sensation in your belly and press your legs a little tighter together. If you close your eyes you can feel the echo of his hands on you from last night, and all you want in the world is for him to come down here and kiss you hard like that again.
With a slow exhale you return to your phone - Don’t be jealous, Yunho. We both know I’m yours.
Yeah? - His reply comes after a beat - No need to be jealous then.
Exactly - You reply.
I bet you like it a little though - His message flies in as yours sends.
You feel warm all over and you run a nervous hand through your hair before replying - No, I don’t.
Jagi, you forget I can feel how worked up you’re getting.
Your stomach clenches, drops and twists. He’s going to be the death of you and you’re still just flirting.
You work up the courage and finally send your reply - You’re the one that pinned me to the wall last night.
I’ve been thinking about that all day - The message reply is fast.
You smile and bite your lip, snuggling further into the mattress and trying to ignore the growing pulse between your thighs - You did seem distracted during rehearsals.
You feel warmth in your chest, and you know exactly how much your flirting is affecting him. Another text pings through and you shiver when you read it - How could I not be distracted with you there? All I could think about was the way you said my name last night.
Your thighs press together - Yunho?
Yes, jagi?
Or more whiny, was it? Yunho-ya? - You type it out fully, emphasizing the extended sound, knowing exactly what he wants to hear from the way he gripped you last night.
The room is suddenly hot, and your heart beats faster to sync with his.
It takes a moment for him to respond, bubbles popping up and then receding again and you wonder how he’s lying in bed. If he’s hard already, if he’s palming himself? You wonder if he sleeps naked when he’s alone and youre core clenches, arousal pooling in your gut and you know he can feel the threads of it. When he finally presses send on his message you have to cover your mouth to keep quiet.
Feeling needy? Are you squirming around in that hotel bed wishing for me, sweetheart?
You feel that message from your top to your toes and you steal a fast glance at the bed next to you. Iseul is sound asleep, turned away from you and snoring softly, and you let out a relieved, shuddering breath.
You could pump the brakes here, tease him and find a way to say goodnight, but you simply can’t. Need and arousal overwhelms you and you tap back your reply fast - I’ve been aching all day.
Do you have headphones?
The question catches you off guard, but you write back - Yes, airpods.
Put them in - He says, and you swallow tightly, reaching for the little headphone case on your bedside table.
Your fingers are shaking as you take them out of the case and put them in, making sure they’re connected before you reply - Done.
His call lights up your phone, ringing in your headphones and you swipe to answer with a panicked glance at the bed next to you, but Iseul sleeps on, none the wiser.
“y/n?” His voice is so rich and quiet, a little raspy edge after singing all night and you nearly moan.
“Hi,” You whisper as soft as you can, “I can’t,”
“Don’t talk,” He soothes you, “don’t wake Iseul up, I’ll talk to you and you can text me back, okay?”
You minimize the call and open your chat back up, sending him a quick emoji to acknowledge his words.
“Perfect,” He laughs softly, “this is way easier than texting. Listen, I know we said slow, but I’d love to help you relax if you want that. If not, I can just say goodnight, it’s up to you.”
You exhale softly, a needy thrill in your gut - Let’s relax together.
“Oh,” He sighs pleasantly, “yes, I’d love that.”
You want me? - You ask.
“You can feel how much I do,” He responds, “I’m sitting here convincing myself not to come downstairs and get my hands on you.”
You hum softly, shifting in the sheets and relaxing deeper into the pillows.
You hear his own breath, the way he parts his lips with a wet sound, “Can you tell me what position you’re in?”
You tap out the reply - Lying on my front, on my stomach.
“Hmm,” He sounds pleased, “I bet you look so cute, all twisted up in the sheets and blushing,”
I was tossing and turning.
“I bet you were,” He groans a little, “I tried everything. I hit the gym, cold shower, did some deep breathing, but you have me so keyed up I can’t sleep,”
You send him another emoji, the blushing face.
He laughs, the rumble of it too deep and warm in your ear with your headphones in.
You tap out another message - What position are you in? Trying to picture it.
You hear him shift around in the sheets, “I’m on my back,”
Wearing?
He chuckles, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking what you’re wearing?”
I asked you first.
“Fair,” He shifts again, and you picture him restless on his back in the bed you shared the night before, “just boxers,”
A heavy sigh passes through your lips.
“And you?”
You wish it were sexier all of a sudden, but that just wouldn’t be practical in a room with your friend so you tell him honestly - Pajamas, the button down kind, they’re gray.
“God, you’re adorable,” The covers on his end shift again, “wish you were up here with me.”
Me too
“This is probably better,” He says though, “I don’t think I could hold myself back for another night.”
Me either - You confess.
“y/n,” His voice warms, low in his chest, “jagiya, can I help you? Can I tell you what I want you to do?”
Your hands are shaking and you type the reply so fast there’s a typo that you have to fix - Pfease - Please.
He chuckles, “Alright, get comfortable, just listen to my voice, okay?”
You message him one last thought - What about you?
“I’m… I’m, uh,” He lets out a shaky breath, “I’m already stroking for you,”
You press your lips together to keep from making a sound, dropping your forehead to the pillow in front of you.
That’s so hot - You text him quickly when you hear him say your name, probably a little nervous he came on too strong.
He hums, “Good,” he says, “then don’t worry about me, just listen to my voice.”
You set your phone to the side, snuggling into the mattress and the pillows just like he asked for, sparing one more glance at Iseul to confirm she’s still completely out of it.
“Comfy?” He asks when you stop shifting around.
“Mhm,” You murmur in a whisper.
“Good,” He sighs, “now slip one of your hands under your cute little pajamas, between your thighs.”
You slide your arm down, tucking it under your body and into your sleep pants.
“Under your panties too,” He says, his voice a little husky.
“Mhm,” You murmur again, following his words.
“Tease a little for me,” He instructs you, “not too fast, just your fingertips on the outside,”
You breathe low and slow, gently passing the pads of your fingers over your slit, just barely ghosting against the hard nub of your clit.
“I bet you look so pretty right now,” He groans a little and you hear the sound of sheets, “you make the cutest faces when you’re feeling good,”
You make the tiniest noise of acknowledgement, fingers still brushing your cunt.
“Can’t wait to see you fall apart for real,” He confesses, a strain in his tone as he sighs, and you picture him. His long legs spread wide in the bed, stretching from corner to corner, his boxer briefs pushed down and his hand fisting his cock.
You’re going to lose it when you finally get to touch him again.
“You can touch now,” He murmurs, getting your attention back, “are you wet?”
You push your fingers through your folds and sigh when you feel just how slick and swollen you are. With your other hand you find the phone nearby and tap out a quick message - So wet
“That’s good, that’s so good,”
Your fingers start to circle on your oversensitive nub and there’s no way he won’t have you coming in five minutes or less with it feeling this good and his heavy breath in your ear.
“R-rub your clit for me,” He pants and your eyes roll, you can hear the sounds of the sheets rhythmically swishing as he pumps his cock harder, “get your fingers nice and wet,”
You whimper into the pillow, biting down hard on your cheek to keep yourself in check.
“Oh, fuck,” He groans, “sound so pretty,”
You rub harder, faster, your legs stretching wide under the downy comforter to give you better access.
“Baby,” He gets your attention with that, “push two fingers inside yourself, imagine I’m there with you,”
You shift, hand slipping lower and body arching to slide your middle and ring finger as deep as they’ll go. You stay mostly quiet this time, but your breathing is heavy and you’re sure he can hear it.
“Close your eyes,” He murmurs, “picture my fingers,”
You gasp softly.
“Grind,” He tells you, “grind your pussy on my palm and feel my fingers fucking you,”
You bite back a moan, only the slip of a soft sound into the microphone as you start to rock, rolling your hips and working your clit against your hand as you sink into his fantasy. You always took him for soft, the romantic type who’d blush at saying the word ‘pussy’ let alone talking you through what’s bound to be the headiest orgasm of your life, but you’ve never been so happy to be wrong.
“Yes,” Yunho moans and you shudder, “I can hear you moving, you’re doing so good,”
Pleasurable stars burst behind your eyes and you grind harder into your slick palm.
“So good,” He groans and you hear him roll in the bedding, his voice changing to something lower and breathier, and then the rhythmic rock of sheets from his side of the phone tells you all you need to know. You can almost see it, Yunho braced on his forearms, hips thrusting to drive his cock in and out of his hot fist, his face buried in the pillow you slept on the night before.
Heat melts through you, your body alight, and you grapple to find the phone again - Close
“Already?” He says in a flushed exhale, “You’re so hot, that’s so hot,”
You need him to talk to you, you need him to tell you what to do, and you whimper into the bedding as you work your body faster up to the peak.
“You gonna come for me?” He murmurs, “Yeah? Hmm?”
You drop the phone and press a hand over your lips, stifling the threat of a real moan.
“Let go,” His voice is so low in your ear you can practically feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, “come for me,”
Your legs are trembling, knees digging into the mattress and sweat gathered on your brow, and you feel the pressure start to crack open inside you, “Coming,” you whimper into your fingers so he knows, and then it breaks.
“God, good girl, yes,” He groans, “I’m coming with you, fuck,”
Your body curls into itself as you release, locking up in pleasure as you feel wave after wave of heat. You bite down on your knuckle to keep from making a sound, silently falling apart, dimly aware somewhere in your gut that half the heat you felt was his, that part of that pleasure was his own.
Yunho moans in your ear as you ride the sensations, panting and cursing and you can’t wait to feel him pulsing inside you while he sounds this good.
You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover, but when your brain starts to connect again you realize you’re panting against the cool flat of the mattress and both your phone and pillow are nowhere to be found. You swallow hard and pop your head up, but Iseul hasn’t moved an inch and you thank god for her liberal use of melatonin while traveling.
In your ear you register the sound of Yunho’s breath and the end of a sentence, “still there?”
He must have been talking, and you try to focus in on the sound of him now as you slip your hand out from between your sticky thighs.
He exhales slowly and you hear him shifting around, “y/n, baby, are you there?”
“Uh-huh,” You manage.
“Sleepy?” He murmurs, misreading your sound, “That’s okay,”
You make a tiny noise of protest and search the bed for your phone.
“Baby?” He’s confused and you grin at his sleepy sated tone.
Sliding off the bed onto nearly boneless legs, you find your pillow off to the side and your phone underneath. You snap it up and send a message quickly - Wait
“Wait?” He breathes, “Sure, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here,”
You tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as you can and then shut yourself behind the heavy door, flicking on the light and collapsing to sit on the closed toilet lid.
You disconnect your earbuds and bring your phone to your ear, “Hey,”
“Hey,” He murmurs, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” You smile, still a little breathless, “Hiding in the bathroom for a sec so I could actually talk to you,”
He hums, a quiet, lazy laugh, “Ah,”
“Are you okay?” You find yourself asking, a little nervous tumble in your gut.
“Me?” He says, “I’m incredible, you’re incredible,”
“Yeah?” You draw your knees up, wrapping your arms around yourself and smiling into the phone.
“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He checks, but you still hear the sound of him calling you ‘good girl’ and you shiver.
“Not too much,” You sigh into the phone.
“Good,” He hums, “I thought so, I was trying to pay attention to how you were feeling, but it was a little,”
“Hard to focus?” You offer and he laughs.
“Yeah,” He sighs again, heavy and sated.
“I can’t wait for this tour to be over,” You confess, “I just want to be with you,”
You feel a pang in your chest and listen as Yunho rolls in the sheets, “I know, I want that too,”
A little lump forms in your throat and you breathe through it, “Yunho,”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Have you ever felt like this before?” Your thundering heart has started to slow, and you let your eyes close as you murmur the question.
“Never,” He murmurs, “but I felt this way before we touched,”
You feel his tenderness wrap around your heart as if he were in the room with you, and with a small smile you whisper, “I thought you said you weren’t holding a candle?”
“I lied,” He says softly, “it’s been you for a long time,”
He doesn’t say it, not in so many words, but you feel the way he loves you through the link in a wave. It’s as good as any confession to you, just as honest if not more so.
“I wish I could come upstairs,” You manage, tears pricking your eyes.
You hear him swallow and breathe a slow breath through his nose, “Soon, I promise. We’re going to do this right,”
“I know,”
“Are your headphones still in?” He asks
“No, but I can switch back,”
“Put them back in and go get back in bed,” He softly instructs, “it’s late, but I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, okay?”
“Okay,” You swap back over to your earbuds and adjust them.
“Get back to bed,” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“Yunho,” You interrupt him, “thank you for staying with me,”
“Always,” He says, and for the first time in your life when someone says they’ll be there, you believe it.
“I’m going back out,” Your voice drops to a whisper, “good night,”
“Mhm,” He listens as you slip back into bed, “just get comfortable, just breathe. I’m right here with you, jagiya, I’ll be right here.”
He murmurs to you softly until your mind is sinking into darkness, body finally unspooling and letting you drop off into sleep. It’s not the same as his arms around you, but it settles you more than any meditation, his voice a steady whisper through your dreams.
In the morning when you wake the call is still connected and the first sound you hear is his slow breath and the steady beat of his heart.
#yunho#jeong yunho#honeyhotteoks fic#yunho x reader#yunho fic#yunho ff#yunho smut#yunho fluff#ateez#ateez fic#ateez ff
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summary: your friendship with Rudy began naturally and fluidly, but when his girlfriend's jealousy begins to interfere, tensions arise
warnings: nothing (?)
word counter: 5049
author's note: english is not my first language, this is fiction, don't take it seriously
From the moment you stepped onto the Outer Banks set, you felt that unmistakable energy of a team completely in sync. But even though everything seemed to click, it was Rudy Pankow who you instantly connected with. It wasn’t something you could plan—it just happened naturally.
Your role wasn’t easy. Playing Isabella Cameron, the middle Cameron sibling, meant bringing depth, charisma, and a hint of rebellion that contrasted with Sarah and Rafe but still shared a certain sensitivity with Wheezie. Even though Isabella wasn’t a Pogue like JJ, her connection with him promised to be one of the season’s most interesting twists.
On your first day on set, the nerves were real. This wasn’t your first acting gig, but something about joining a cast with such strong chemistry was intimidating. Rudy was one of the first to approach you.
“New Cameron?” he asked, with that grin of his that always seemed ready to crack a joke.
“The one and only,” you replied, trying to hide your nerves.
He burst out laughing.
“I like it. I’m Rudy, but I guess from now on we’re calling each other JJ and Isabella.”
The conversation flowed like you’d known each other forever. From that moment, it became almost a tradition for the two of you to find each other between takes to talk about scripts, crack jokes, or improvise ridiculous lines just to make the rest of the cast laugh.
One afternoon, during a scene where Isabella and JJ were supposed to argue about something involving Sarah, the directors decided to let you two improvise a bit to explore your characters' dynamic. It was a mess… in the best way possible. Your quick comebacks and Rudy’s ability to keep up with sarcastic remarks had everyone on set laughing. After calling cut, Jonas Pate, one of the show’s creators, came over.
“You two have something special. I think we’re gonna lean into that.”
It wasn’t until weeks later that you understood what he meant. In one of the season two episodes, Isabella and JJ would share an unexpected kiss—a moment that would completely shift their dynamic.
“A kiss?” you asked, stunned after reading the script.
Rudy shot you a playful look.
“What? Not excited? I’m a great kisser.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Your sarcastic tone made him laugh, like always.
Filming that scene was… interesting. Even though you got along great off-camera, you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous. But Rudy, ever the charmer, made sure to ease your nerves before the take.
“It’s like we’re mocking the cliché, but with style,” he said, adjusting JJ’s jacket.
The scene turned out so well that the director asked to shoot it from multiple angles. After every take, Rudy would wink at you, making you smile despite yourself. The funny thing was, even though JJ and Isabella’s kiss wasn’t originally meant to happen again in the series, the on-screen chemistry between you two led to more moments like that.
Still, the main storyline for Isabella revolved around Barry, the character who was supposed to be her big love interest. Barry was different, but his relationship with Isabella brought an emotional depth that fans quickly adored.
Even so, every time you and Rudy shared a scene, the vibe on set shifted. There was something contagious about the way you interacted, both on and off camera. It wasn’t uncommon for the other cast members to watch you two during breaks and joke about your 'explosive chemistry.'
“You two would be absolute chaos if they let you,” Chase said one day, watching you rehearse a particularly intense scene.
And he wasn’t wrong. Despite Isabella clearly being paired with Barry, you couldn’t deny that working with Rudy was one of the most fun and genuine parts of the production. That connection eventually led fans to start shipping Isabella and JJ, even though the show’s narrative had other plans.
The on-screen kisses quickly became a recurring topic among the cast and crew.
Everything was going perfectly fine between you and Rudy until the fans started noticing what you and the rest of the cast already knew: your on-screen chemistry was undeniable. Comments on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter exploded as soon as the first kiss scene between Isabella and JJ aired.
'Does anyone else think JJ and Isabella should be endgame?'
'Barry has nothing on JJ-Bella tension. Sorry, not sorry.'
'The way JJ looks at Isabella when she walks away… CHEF’S KISS. I need more of them.'
'I don’t care what anyone says, Rudy and Isabella HAVE to be together, ON and OFF screen.'
At first, the comments didn’t bother you. After all, most of them were about the characters, not you as actors. Even the more insistent ones were easy to brush off. But things changed when fan theories started crossing the line.
'Have you guys noticed how Rudy is always around her in BTS? 👀'
'I refuse to believe there’s nothing going on between them off-screen. Look at their interviews.'
'Sorry, but Rudy’s girlfriend doesn’t hold a candle to her. Stay with Y/N.'
That last comment felt like a trigger. Suddenly, the presence of Rudy’s girlfriend, whose relationship with him had been private and mostly unknown to fans, became glaringly obvious. She hadn’t been around during the first few months of filming, but now she showed up on set often, always quiet but clearly watching everything.
At first, you tried to be friendly. She wasn’t part of the cast, but you understood her wanting to be near Rudy. However, the tension started becoming noticeable when she stopped hiding her discomfort around you.
“So, this is the famous Isabella Cameron?,” she said one afternoon during a break. Her tone was sharp, even though her smile tried to mask it.
“Yeah, I guess that’s me.”You smiled, trying not to let it affect you.
“Well, I hope you don’t take everything the fans say too seriously. Rudy and I have something real, not like those fake kisses you share with him.”
You were caught off guard. It wasn’t like you cared about what she thought, but her comment made it clear she didn’t really know where the line between fiction and reality was. From that moment on, her little digs became more frequent.
One day, while scrolling through your social media, you saw a comment she left under one of your photos promoting the show. It didn’t say much, but the sarcasm was obvious:
"Wow, working with Rudy must be the highlight of your career. You must love it."
Fans, as expected, picked up on it right away. ‘Why’s Rudy’s girlfriend so passive-aggressive towards her?’ was one of the top comments on your profile. You laughed it off, but the whole thing left a bitter taste in your mouth.
The tension hit its peak during one of the more intense scenes between Isabella and JJ, where the two characters had to share an intimate moment in the middle of an argument. You and Rudy had rehearsed the scene, and everything seemed fine until you noticed his sudden change in attitude.
“Everything okay?” you asked him before shooting.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” His answer was short, distant, and not like him at all.
You couldn’t help but think his girlfriend had something to do with it. She was sitting in a corner of the set, arms crossed, watching you both. She wasn’t doing anything obvious, but her presence was enough to throw him off and, by extension, ruin the dynamic you two usually had.
After the scene ended, you confronted him.
“What’s going on with you? We never had problems before, but now it’s like you don’t even want to be around me.”
“It’s not that.” He avoided your gaze, confirming what you already suspected.
“Then what is it? Your girlfriend? Because if it’s about her, I need you to tell me now if we’re going to keep working like we used to or not.”
Rudy sighed, running a hand through his hair. You knew he didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was necessary.
“She just… doesn’t get it. And I don’t want things to get messier than they already are.”
“And what about our work?” you asked, more frustrated than you intended to sound.
He didn’t answer, but his silence was enough to tell you that, fair or not, things wouldn’t go back to the way they were.
After that, Rudy started pulling away not just from you, but from the rest of the cast too. The jokes between takes became less frequent, and the fun improvisations you both used to enjoy practically disappeared. No one said anything, but it was obvious something was wrong.
Social media wasn’t helping. Every time you posted something about the show, fans kept fueling the drama with their theories and comments.
‘Rudy’s girlfriend is definitely behind this. They’re not even in interviews together anymore.’
‘It’s so sad that JJ and Isabella have such good chemistry, but off-camera, it’s a mess.’
You tried to ignore it, but some nights you couldn’t help feeling frustrated. Not because of the comments, but because you missed how things used to be. Rudy was one of the best co-stars you’d ever had, and now it felt like you couldn’t even be friends.
And the worst part? He wasn’t doing anything to fix it.
When the fourth season rolled around, the news hit like a bomb. During a cast table read, the producers announced that JJ Maybank’s arc would come to a tragic end with a heroic death. While everyone murmured in shock, you could only look at him. Rudy sat in silence, arms crossed, eyes glued to the script, avoiding eye contact with everyone—especially you.
“What does this mean?” you asked Jonas directly.
“It was Rudy’s decision,” he replied, with a tone that made it clear he didn’t want to elaborate.
You couldn’t believe it. You’d heard rumors that Rudy wasn’t as excited about continuing on the show, but you always thought they were just that rumors. But now it was clear he’d made the most drastic choice possible.
That night, you couldn’t stay quiet. You found him outside the set, sitting on one of the service stairs, like he was waiting for someone to confront him.
“What the hell are you doing?” you blurted out. He looked up, surprised by your tone, but said nothing. He just shrugged.
“I’ve got nothing left to do here. I’m done.”
That lit a fire in you.
“Done? Are you serious? Rudy, your character is one of the fans’ favorites. JJ still has so much potential, and you’re just letting him die because… what? Because your girlfriend can’t handle us doing our jobs?”
He frowned, clearly annoyed.
“This has nothing to do with her. It’s my decision, and it’s final.”
“Of course, it has to do with her. Ever since she started coming to set, you’ve changed. You’re not the same anymore. You can’t even joke around with me like you used to. Now you’d rather run away than face things.”
Rudy stood up, defensive.
“And what do you expect me to do? Ignore everything? Pretend like I’m not losing my relationship?.”
“You’re not losing your relationship, Rudy. You’re sabotaging your career. And along the way, you’re throwing away everything we had, our friendship, all of it. Why can’t you see that?.”
“Because it’s not as simple for me as it is for you,” he said, raising his voice. There was frustration and pain in his tone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“It means not everyone can separate things like you. Do you know how hard it’s been for me? Everyone assumes there’s something between us, like there’s more… And she sees it, the fans see it. No matter how much I deny it, someone’s always pointing it out.”
The intensity of his words caught you off guard, but you weren’t about to back down.
“So what? You’re just going to throw it all away? Let her control every decision you make? That’s not professional. It’s childish.”
He shook his head like your words couldn’t break through the wall he’d built.
“Do what you want, but don’t expect me to stay quiet while you ruin something that meant so much to all of us,” you said before turning and walking away.
From that moment on, things went downhill fast. What used to be a natural and fun connection turned into pure tension. Arguments became frequent, both on and off set. Something as simple as a rehearsal could turn into a battleground, and it wasn’t long before it started affecting the whole team.
In scenes where Isabella and JJ had to interact, the tension was so obvious that even the directors began to notice something was off. After weeks of trying, they decided to use doubles for the shots where the two of you shared the screen.
The rumor spread quickly among the crew. People whispered behind your backs, some blaming Rudy, others blaming you, but most were just confused. It wasn’t easy to explain how one of the cast’s most beloved dynamics had turned into something so unsustainable.
By the time the last scene rolled around, the atmosphere on set was heavy. That day, JJ’s final scene was being filmed—a moment that would mark the end of an era for the show and the cast. While everyone tried to keep the energy upbeat and positive, all you could feel was an overwhelming emptiness.
It wasn’t just about JJ leaving; it was because Rudy was leaving too. Even though your relationship had deteriorated to the point of being unrecognizable, you couldn’t help but remember how things had started: the laughs, the improvisations, the jokes that even got the directors to join in. Now, none of that was left.
The scene you were filming was heartbreaking, probably the most emotional one of the entire season. JJ sacrificed himself to save Isabella and the other Pogues, dying heroically. You, as Isabella, had to hold him in your arms while he said his final words.
When the director called action, you threw yourself into character completely. Isabella was desperate, her hands covered in blood as she tried to hold back tears.
“No, JJ, don’t do this to me,” you said, your voice breaking. The script called for you to cling to him, as if you could stop the inevitable.
Rudy, as JJ, looked at you with a weak smile the same one that had always defined his character, even in the darkest moments.
“Don’t cry, Bella. You always knew I’d do something stupid like this.” He coughed, mimicking the character’s weakness, but there was something else in his voice something that felt way too real.
“Don’t say that!” you screamed as Isabella, feeling a knot in your stomach that went beyond acting. Tears streamed down your face, and for a moment, you wondered if they were yours or your character’s.
“Take care of them... all of them.” He tried to laugh, but his voice faltered. JJ’s eyes closed, and the camera captured your devastated face as you hugged him one last time.
“Cut!” the director yelled.
The set erupted in applause. The crew, the cast—everyone knew they had just filmed something unforgettable. But you couldn’t move. You kept holding onto Rudy, trying to steady your breathing, because even though the scene was over, the emotions were still there.
“You were incredible,” someone said, but you didn’t register who. You barely heard Rudy mumble a “thank you” to everyone as he stood up and walked off set.
As soon as you snapped out of character, the real tears came. You weren’t one to cry in front of everyone, so you slipped away from the set and found a quiet corner where you could be alone. Sitting on one of the folding chairs, away from the lights and noise, you let the emotions take over.
“Are you okay?” Madison asked, approaching cautiously.
You looked up at her and tried to smile, but you couldn’t.
“Yeah, just... haven’t gotten much rest.”
Madison nodded and stayed quiet beside you. You knew she didn’t want to push you but was still worried. After a while, she gave your shoulder a squeeze and went back to the set, leaving you with your thoughts.
Later, when everyone was gathering to say goodbye to Rudy, you couldn’t bring yourself to go near him. You watched from a distance as he was surrounded by hugs, encouragement, and smiles. He seemed happy—or at least relieved. But to you, it all felt like a façade.
You knew you’d eventually have to face him, but you were too angry to do it now. Every time someone asked if you were going to say goodbye, you just answered, “Maybe later.”
The anger you felt toward Rudy had become constant. No matter how much you tried to justify it or make sense of it, it always led back to the same thing: he acted like none of this mattered. Like losing his friends, his job, and everything you’d built together meant nothing.
But what bothered you most wasn’t just his apparent indifference it was how, deep down, you found yourself wanting him. You hated yourself for it. You tortured yourself with thoughts that if things had been different if his girlfriend wasn’t in the picture, if he could see things the way you did—you wouldn’t be here now. But you knew he wasn’t that kind of person, which is why you’d always tried to give him the best advice, even if it hurt.
The night before Rudy officially left the set, he came to find you. You had just finished packing up your things and were walking to the parking lot when you saw him waiting by your car.
“Can we talk?” he asked, his expression unfamiliar. He looked exhausted, almost desperate.
“What for?” you shot back, crossing your arms. Sarcasm had become your go-to defense. “To have one last argument? That seems to be all we do lately.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t want to argue. I just... I need to explain myself.”
You were caught off guard by that. You hesitated for a moment before tilting your head toward the passenger seat.
“Talk.”
He leaned against your car, staring at the ground before finally speaking.
“I know you think I don’t care about any of this. That I’m just walking away because none of it matters to me. But that’s not true.”
You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your disbelief.
“Oh, really? Because it sure seems like you don’t care. You’ve distanced yourself from everyone, didn’t even try to fix things, and now you’re just leaving. What do you expect us to think?”
“It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just... I don’t know how to handle it,” he admitted, with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in him for a long time.
You stared at him, trying to figure out if he really meant it or if it was just another excuse.
“Rudy, we’ve all tried to help you. Madison, Chase, even the directors. We all wanted to help, but you wouldn’t listen to anyone. And you can’t blame us for being upset when it seems like all you care about is keeping someone happy who doesn’t even understand what you do.”
“It’s not as easy as you make it sound,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t ask to compete with fans, theories, or with you.”
“With me?” you asked, stepping closer to him, feeling anger boil inside you again. “Are you seriously saying this is my fault?”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, but it was too late.
“Listen, I never tried to make you choose between your career and your relationship. In fact, I always told you that you could have both if you just took a second to put things into perspective. But you didn’t. You chose to pull away, not just from me, but from everyone. And now, you’re leaving. So tell me, what else do you want me to do?”
For a moment, he didn’t seem to have an answer. He just looked at you, his lips slightly parted, like he was searching for the right words.
“I want you to understand that this wasn’t an easy decision,” he finally said. “And I want you to know that I never wanted us to end up like this.”
You laughed, though there was nothing funny about the situation.
“Is that it? You want my forgiveness? Or are you expecting me to sit here feeling sorry for myself because you decided to throw everything away?”
He took a step toward you, but you stepped back.
“No. I’ve had enough. Do what you have to do. Go live your life, but don’t expect me to sit here waiting for you to realize you made a mistake. Because you did. Not just with me, but with everyone who cared about you here.”
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue. He just nodded slowly, like he was accepting your words.
“Goodbye,” he said, with a sadness he hadn’t shown before.
“Goodbye, Rudy,” you replied.”
After that night, Rudy disappeared from your life. No immediate messages, no attempts to reconnect—at least not in the first few weeks. You didn’t reach out either. You’d made everything clear that last time, and you didn’t want to go back to a cycle of arguments that never seemed to end.
But as the weeks went by and the Outer Banks team started gearing up for the promotion of the new season, something inevitable happened: contact between you two. The first time you saw a message from him, you were going through emails, looking for info about the upcoming red carpet event.
It was simple, almost casual.
Rudy: “Hey. Hope you’re doing okay. How’s everything going?”
You read it a couple of times, trying to decide if it was worth replying. You knew he’d probably written and rewritten that message several times before sending it, but you still weren’t ready to fully open that door again. Finally, you typed:
You: “All good. You?”
It took him days to reply. When he did, it was just as brief.
Rudy: “Good too. Thanks for asking.”
It didn’t seem like much, but for someone like Rudy, who always avoided uncomfortable conversations, it was something. The messages continued—spaced out, always short. He’d ask how work was going; you’d reply politely, sometimes returning the question, other times leaving the thread hanging. It didn’t feel like a conversation between friends, more like an attempt to hold onto something that wasn’t really there anymore.
When the first promotional event for the new season rolled around, you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw him. The whole cast was there—except Rudy—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up. Even though he wasn’t actively part of the show anymore, his character was still important, and the producers wanted him there to honor that legacy.
The anxiety hit days before the event. Even though you’d managed to respond to some of his messages neutrally, the thought of seeing him in person made your heart race. You didn’t know how you’d react. Would you ignore him? Act like nothing happened? Talk?
The day came quicker than you’d hoped. You got ready in your hotel room, surrounded by stylists and makeup artists doing their thing while you stared at your reflection in the mirror, lost in thought. You wore a stunning dress, something that screamed strength and confidence, but inside, you felt more vulnerable than ever.
When you arrived at the event, the usual chaos of red carpets consumed you—flashes, photographers yelling, rapid-fire interviews. Everything seemed to be going as expected until you saw him. Rudy was on the other side of the carpet, talking to a group of reporters. He wore a simple but sharp suit, and while his smile was polite, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite figure out.
Madison, standing next to you, nudged you lightly.
“There he is,” she murmured, not needing to clarify who she meant.
“I know,” you said, trying to keep your composure.
You knew you’d eventually have to cross paths with him, but you avoided it as much as you could. There were interviews to do, group photos to take, fans to greet, and you stayed as far away from him as possible the whole time.
The red carpet premiere was everything you’d expected—flashes, shouting fans, excitement everywhere. But for you, it all felt distant. Rudy and you barely glanced at each other the entire time. It was like you were both in your own worlds, aware of the crowd but completely detached from everything else.
There was an awkward tension in the air, one you couldn’t ignore. The pain from the past months was still there, but it wasn’t something you were willing to show in public. The press team and photographers fired off quick questions, and while the flashes lit up everyone’s faces, you responded just enough, smiling when necessary. Still, Rudy’s presence, even from a distance, made you feel shaky.
Every now and then, your eyes met his—brief, almost fleeting—but always heavy with something you couldn’t name. He didn’t approach you, didn’t try to break the ice. He kept his distance, and everything between you stayed frozen, like time had stopped. The laughter and chatter around you felt mechanical, as if all your emotions were locked away in a room neither of you wanted to enter.
It wasn’t until you moved inside the venue for the screening that things shifted. The photographers were still snapping group photos, this time with the entire cast. A bunch of people surrounded you, and among them, somehow, was Rudy. You didn’t even notice when he got closer, but when one of the photographers gestured for everyone to squeeze in, Rudy slid in beside you. Without a word, he put his hand on your waist, stepping closer to position himself next to you. The move caught you off guard.
The photographer, clearly waiting for that moment, shouted instructions.
“Closer, please!” he called as flashes started going off again.
Instinctively, you leaned into Rudy, the heat of his body almost too much, a reminder of everything you’d once shared. The closeness made you uneasy, but it also surprised you how natural it felt for him. Like nothing had changed. Like everything was fine.
The flashes kept coming. Then, in the middle of it all, Rudy leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible over the chaos of the cameras.
“Just for tonight,” he murmured, with a faint but genuine smile, like he was trying to ease the tension.
You froze for a second, staring at him. Annoyance bubbled inside you, but you knew this was part of the job. It was a moment neither of you could avoid, no matter how much you wished you could.
“Just for tonight,” you repeated, more to yourself than to him, taking a deep breath as you forced a smile onto your face.
The photographer kept directing the group, asking for different poses, more smiles, more closeness. A part of you wanted to pull away, but another part knew that would only make things worse. So you went with it, doing what was expected, perfect smile, flawless posture, all while Rudy’s hand stayed on your waist, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the photographer signaled that the shoot was done. Rudy’s hand dropped from your waist, but he didn’t step away. He looked at you, his gaze holding too many unspoken words.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low, meant only for you.
You looked at him, feeling the words catch in your throat. There was something ironic about that question. You knew the answer wasn’t as simple as “yes.” Everything between you two was so tangled, so complicated, that words seemed pointless.
“I’m fine,” you replied, though it didn’t feel true. The answer came out more robotic than honest, but you weren’t willing to give him more than that.
Once again, the distance between you both became tangible. Rudy didn’t push. He gave you one last look before turning back to the group, rejoining the rest of the cast. You, on the other hand, stayed there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.
Even though you’d had to interact with him for work, the frustration lingered in your chest.
The night went on, and you knew you’d have to face him again at some point. The red carpets, the events, the interviews—it was all part of the job. But at the end of the day, all that was left between you two was the weight of a past you still didn’t know how to let go of.
#rudy pankow#rudy pankow x reader#rudy pankow x y/n#rudy pankow x you#fanfic#oneshot#imagine#x reader#jj maybank fic#jj maybank#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj obx fic#jj obx imagine#obx4#obx x reader
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Midnight rain
pairing: Lando Norris x reader
summary: Lando wanted a family, but you weren’t ready. Three months after your breakup, he's still in love with you, and now it's your turn to decide whether or not to give him a second chance.
“You’re exhausting,” you groaned into the phone.
It was well into the morning when Lando’s name flashed on your screen, which wouldn’t have been so surprising if you were in the same time zone. But you were in Singapore, six hours ahead of Belgium, which meant it was around three in the morning over there. When he spoke, his speech was slurred, he was obviously struggling to form coherent sentences, but he sounded hell-bent on talking to you right now.
Since you were almost at the stadium for rehearsal before tonight's concert, you didn't feel like keeping up the conversation, but the way his voice broke made you listen. You knew he hadn't been in the best state of mind since the breakup, but the fact he still felt so miserable made you sad.
“We would have beautiful babies, you and me. Why don't you want to see them? A mini you, or a mini me, maybe a mini mix of us… So cute,” he said, at least that’s what you managed to understand from his mess of a speech.
And he giggled. You could imagine him lying on his back, one hand holding the phone while the other hugged a pillow to his chest. Rolling your eyes, you thought about what to say to this. It was always the same story, he would call you, tell you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how he wished you would marry him, and how much he wanted to have a child with you.
The same things that made you break up with him in the first place. He told you about his vision; a big wedding somewhere remote, then the two of you would travel together, preferably with you coming to his races as a good luck charm, and soon you would welcome your first child who would be spoiled rotten.
That's not what you wanted. You wanted to focus on your career, you wanted to go on tours, you wanted to make more albums, you wanted to do so much before becoming a wife and a mother. Lando didn't seem to understand this, he kept telling you it would be okay, that there were many singers who could return to where they'd been before, but you didn't buy it.
“Go to sleep, Lando,” you told him calmly, hoping that gentle parenting would work.
“No, I won't sleep until you're back to me. I'll stay awake and–Don’t touch my phone, Osc!” he protested suddenly.
You heard some bickering in the background, which was followed by a long sigh. “Hey, it's Oscar. I'm sorry, we stayed with him and have been trying to keep him from calling you, but he somehow snatched his phone back from Max. You okay?”
At least he was in good hands and under supervision. “Yeah, sure, thanks for staying with him. Good race for you two by the way,” you said with a smile.
“You watched it?”
“Well, I checked the results and saw the highlights.”
There was a short break which made you wonder if he was still there, but then he spoke up again. “Listen, I don’t want to be involved in this, but I’m worried about Lando. You broke up three months ago and he’s still a mess. I get it, you don’t want marriage and kids yet, but maybe he would understand your reasons and agree to wait if you just sat down to discuss it.” You didn’t know what to say to that, but apparently Oscar was also a bit hesitant. “Do you still love him?”
“I don’t know if it’s love, but I care about him. We were together for over three years, it’s not gonna disappear from my life in a blink of an eye,” you explained. “But… I don’t know, I’m just afraid he would be back at it in a matter of weeks, once again trying to convince me to start a family with him.”
“And if we talked to him when he was sober? If we made sure he understands what you’ve been trying to tell him? Would you give him another chance?”
You took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Would you? Would it be worth it? You were on tour right now, but after the next four concerts you would end the Asian leg and have a few weeks for yourself. You would have time to figure things out. “I would talk to him, and maybe I would be willing to try again. Once last time. The moment he’s back on his bullshit, I’m going to leave him for good,” you added.
You could hear the soft laugh from Oscar’s side, and you could see him glancing down at his teammate with a smile. “I’m sure he would like it. I’m not sure how long he’ll be knocked out once we convince him to sleep, but I’ll tell him to call you at a reasonable time when he’s finally sober again, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for everything.”
He said goodbye and left you with your thoughts, wondering if you made the right call. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be with him, because the years you spent together meant a lot to you. He was one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, a ray of sunshine, really, in stark contrast with your sometimes gloomy personality.
But who knew, maybe his friends can talk some sense into him.
Lando knew he only had one chance at this. All his friends were very clear about this, Oscar especially, since he had been the one to talk to you. During that one phone call a week ago, you agreed to come to him in Monaco, visiting his apartment so you wouldn’t have this conversation at a public place. It was something between the two of you, there was no need for strangers hearing even snippets of it.
When you arrived and his eyes fell on you again, every single thought left his brain. He was just standing there in the door, utterly speechless, surprised that he didn’t start drooling at the sight. After all those months spent looking at photos of you at your concerts, seeming like you had the time of your life on the stage, it was so nice to see this you, the one without the sparkling dresses, the down-to-earth girl he loved so much it hurt.
“Can I come in?” you asked him hesitantly.
He blinked a few times before realizing he had been staring for a little too long. “Sure, sure, come in,” he said as he stepped out of the way. “Can I bring you anything?”
Shaking your head, you sat on the couch and patted the empty space next to you. Like a well-trained puppy, Lando sat down and turned to look at you, taking in every little detail as if this was the last time he saw you. Because maybe this was the last time, maybe you would end the conversation with the decision that this relationship couldn’t be revived.
After several painfully silent minutes later, you finally stopped fidgeting with your ring and let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to start a family yet, at least not the way you want it. Marriage is one thing, but… You expected me to spend my time following you around. I have my own career to nurture, Lan, you need to understand that. Sure, one day I’ll be ready for it, but not yet,” you explained kindly, your eyes examining his face for a reaction.
But Lando knew better than to let his disappointment be visible, he fought hard to keep it away from you. So, when he spoke up, his voice was also kept neutral. “But you wouldn’t be against it one day, right? Starting a family with me, I mean,” he said, deep down hoping there would be a dazzling smile on your face as you replied.
You smiled, but it was more of a polite, maybe little uncertain smile. “Yeah, one day, although I can’t tell you when, I can’t give you a deadline. Maybe in our early thirties, maybe sooner. You would have to wait and see. Do you think you can do that?”
He couldn’t hold back a sad laugh, mostly because you didn’t really give him the choice to negotiate. You told him what you had to offer, and it was a take it or leave it situation. And he wanted you back in his life, he wanted to be by your side every step of the way, he wanted to be your biggest fan, and he needed you to support him. “I can. For you,” he added seriously as he reached out to take your hand.
#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic
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Hi! Would you ever consider do anything that was Aaron Taylor Johnson x reader? (his celeb self I mean.) Maybe something like they’re working on a movie together (y/n is younger) and get to be friends and then something transpires between them? Ahh!!
Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Fem!Reader (Young Actress Reader - Request)
My Materialist
warning: claustrophobia, age difference, dirty language, nickname, divorce, coworker, action scene, car accident, creep, expectation.
summury: You're doing test shoots for action scenes with the lead of your new movie. You always thought you were like a sister to her until you find out that he is now a single man.
(2632 word)
Ask for permission before quoting or translating!
Hope you like it sweetie, I try the write as soon as possible :) @smallmarvel
It was one of the new weeks in your new project. The reading rehearsals had been over for a few days. But post-production had taken a long time. Or maybe it's because it's your biggest project and you've never experienced this kind of crew and work discipline before.
The cast had been in camp for months and all of them had been working out constantly to change their bodies for their roles. In the last days you have been working on your choreography. Your screen time would be about fifteen to twenty minutes, but the opportunity to work with such a cast made it all worthwhile.
You had two fight scenes, one big and one small. Although it wouldn't be right to call them both fights. Generally the bad guys were chasing you and our hero was there for you, but there were still moves you had to memorize.
When you first read the script, you thought that since it was an escape scene, it wouldn't challenge you and you would just run. But it wasn't like that. You had to jump, jump, sometimes crawl and even fight one-on-one. To make the scene more realistic, you were choreographed to fight for your life. At first you hated it, but once you learned the moves and started doing them much faster, you started to enjoy it.
Today was the day of the test shoot.
It was the first time you and the rest of the crew would act out the scenes together. Of course you had all met each other. You had rehearsed readings, the director had organized some nights for you all to get along better. One of them was a movie night where you watched some of the old crappy horror movies. It was a milestone day when you couldn't be afraid to laugh and you started to feel comfortable around each other as a team. Another night was a silent movie night. It was through events like these that you formed good friendships.
Aside from being friends with the crew and spending time together, today was the first day you were going to be in front of the camera. And it was for the fight scene. You were the last name in the cast and you were the least famous of them all. In direct proportion to that, you were not the main female character of the movie, but all your scenes were with the hero of the movie, the leading male character. Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who is going to save you from the bad guys in today's the test shoot.
Aaron was a very funny and kind man. He would come to your workouts to make you feel comfortable, give you feedback and often praise you on how well you were doing. In addition to these interactions, he was usually quiet on set. He would share a laugh with certain people, but he was very kind to the whole set and the staff. A true English gentleman.
When you arrived on set, you put on something comfortable. Leggings, a sports bra that covers your breasts and makes the whole action scene easier for you, and a loose t-shirt with the logo of your favorite band. Since it was a test shoot, you were wearing air force sneakers. You were determined to at least make this test as comfortable as possible until the main shoot.
Aaron came into the field right behind you. He was similarly dressed in comfortable clothes. He arrived in gray sweatpants and a basic t-shirt. They rocked back and forth with their hands in their pockets, talking to the director about the scene. You'd have to be blind not to notice the movement of his muscles with each sway…You reminded yourself that you were a married man and tried to focus on your scene.
After he finished talking to the director, he came up to you and said, “Good morning, baby.” He pulled you into a hug. You knew he gave you that nickname because of the age difference. You reminded yourself that there was nothing to be excited about and accepted his hug.
When he pulled back, with an energetic smile on his face, he asked, “Are you ready for today?” His smile must have been contagious because you were smiling back. “As much as I can,” you replied, shaking your legs - in a pose as if you were about to run a marathon.
His grin was still on his face. “We'll try not to push you too hard today, but we still want to go through all the scenes. But if there's any scene or movement that makes you uncomfortable, we'll definitely stop shooting,” he explained with great care. You had to admit that you were very lucky to be working with someone so kind and understanding. “Thanks Aaron, I really appreciate it, but I don't think we'll have any problems, we've been rehearsing these moves for weeks.” You reassured him. “Honey, the shot might feel different though, remember to stop if you have trouble.” He insisted. “I promise I will stop the scene if it feels uncomfortable,” you reassured him. All the while trying not to get hung up on the new nickname...
The first test shoot went quite well. The more complicated scene was next, but you decided to do it tomorrow. Or rather your director decided so. This decision was made because he wanted to shoot tomorrow with full make-up and clothes. Because it is necessary to decide whether the costumes in the movie will cause any problems in the scene and choreography and what precautions should be taken if necessary. So tomorrow you will enter the set as if you are shooting the first scene of the movie. Lights, camera, makeup, hair, costume… Everything you can think of will be prepared. To be honest, you're very excited about it.
But this was tomorrow's subject, today's subject and a new movie night. The leading lady of your movie had invited everyone who was doing a test shoot today to a movie night at her house because her house was quite close to the set.
You decided to change at the set before going back to the hotel and go with Aaron. Because he had arrived by car and you didn't want to waste time looking for a taxi.
The ride was peacefully silent until the sound of Aaron's cell phone connected to the car filled the air. “Excuse me, this is important. If you don't mind-” As soon as I saw the word lawyer appear on the screen, I said, ”No, no, please. I don't mind at all.”
When he picked up the phone, the loud, booming voice of the lawyer on the other end filled the car. “Hey, buddy, how you doing?” Aaron's fingers were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. His grip on the steering wheel was tighter than it had been since he'd called the lawyer. “Please give me some good news Kev,” his lawyer, Kev - you probably think it was Kevin - noticed Aaron's nervousness and started to chuckle. “Relax man, you're a single man now. Sam accepted the deal and signed all the papers. Congratulations man, enjoy your new life.” Aaron let out a deep breath at the sound of the phone hanging up. “I'm sorry this is really-” before you could finish the sentence Aaron's laughter filled the car and you heard him say something like 'oh shit' but you didn't dwell on it. His happiness was contagious and the awkward silence in the car was gone.
You couldn't say the same about movie night, though. They had chosen a really terrible movie this time and you were constantly screaming and disturbing the whole crew. One or two people who were really enjoying the movie were a bit annoyed by this, but the crew was having a lot of fun with your reactions.
When the lead role was finally placed alive in the coffin, you felt your breath catch in your throat. “I think I-” the incoherent words came out so quietly that no one even realized you were about to have an attack of claustrophobia. As soon as you started to fidget on the couch, an arm grabbed you around the waist and pulled you towards him. You couldn't see who it was in the dark room. With one hand still on your waist, he grabbed your neck with his free hand and held you against his chest. You immediately inhaled the familiar scent. You relaxed yourself in the safety of the warmth. “Shh, calm down doll, I'm here.” His low voice and the sound of him moving around your waist were enough to calm your nerves. But his lips barely touching your ear sent a shiver down your spine. You were about to remind yourself that this was wrong when you remembered that he was now a single man.
When you arrived on set, you went straight to your trailer for makeup. While you were lost in the memories of yesterday, your makeup was finished and your hair was being done.
Shortly after the movie ended, you and Aaron said goodbye to your friends and left. You were staying in the same hotel, so you went on the car ride together again. He made fun of you a little during the ride and finally you agreed to watch a comedy movie together. When you arrived at the hotel, he insisted on escorting you to your room even though your rooms were not on the same floor.
After opening the door to your room, you wished each other good night. Before you parted, you shared another hug. It was the longest hug you had ever shared. Sure, it was a minute hug, but it usually lasted no more than a few seconds and no, every time you hugged Aaron you didn't calculate how long it lasted. “Good night, baby,” he whispered in your ear as his hand circled your back. Then he left after leaving a vague kiss on your burn.
While your hair was being done, you were drowning in memories. You told yourself you were exaggerating, after all, he always called you baby. You were like his little brother, that's what you had been telling yourself for weeks, except you didn't know then that he was about to get divorced and that he was now a single man. Yes, there was an age difference, but it wasn't twenty years. You were just a couple years younger.
You came out of your daydream with Aaron's voice. “Hello baby,” he winked at your image in the mirror. ‘Good morning Aaron,’ you smiled. When you were called from inside to put on your costumes, you waved “See you in a minute” and headed towards the cabin. After changing your clothes, you took one last look at your image in the mirror and went to the set area. It wasn't a superhero movie so there were no weird tights and uncomfortable costumes. It was a chase scene where you would be chased by the 'bad guys' after you left work and then it would take place on the streets of the city. He was wearing tight fabric pants, a white shirt and stilettos. When the scene first started you would run in heels. Then you could switch to sneakers because they would not be visible in the camera angles. But neither the shoes nor the shirt made you unhappy. The only thing that bothered you was the lacy bra. You were looking for the comfort of your sports bra from the day before.
On the director's orders, you started the test shoot. You came out of your model building, realized you were being followed while walking down the street and jumped into the first taxi you saw. The team chasing you rear-ends your taxi with the car they are driving and you get stuck in the vehicle. At this moment, Aaron arrives and performs the fight scene with the men chasing you. After he rescues you from your trapped position, you take him by the hand and run together. At this point you were planning to change your shoes but you didn't want to stop shooting and you wondered how long you could go on.
After all, it was a test shoot. If you failed, you wouldn't try something like this next time. As you ran hand in hand, your heel caught on some fake stones. As Aaron checked you were okay, you gave him a sign that you could continue. As you continued your scene, you realized that the shoe was hurting you now. And the more you stepped, the more it hurt. But you were still shooting and you didn't want to give up on the first try.
You squeezed the hand that Aaron was holding. Immediately he turned to you and a low whimper of “Aaron,” escaped your lips. He immediately checked you with his eyes and tried to figure out what was wrong. “I don't think I can go on in these heels much longer,” As he was about to signal the director to stop the scene, he shook his hand once more and said, “Please don't stop the scene, we are almost finished. I don't want it to be cut because of me.” As you were quickly looking for a solution, the camera was coming towards you from the backstage area.
As you wondered what to do, you felt yourself being swept off your feet. As you let out a little scream of surprise, you could tell that your director was enjoying the moment and was pleased with the image that was being captured on camera. Aaron embraced you bridal style. And he was running towards the area where your final scene would take place. “What are you doing!” you whispered after your astonishment had subsided a little. “I couldn't let you writhe in pain Y/N,” she said, giving you an angry look. “Oh, I thought you would enjoy watching me writhe in pain…” you snapped.
When you got to where you needed to be, he took you off his lap and you did the moves you had memorized for your scene. With the fake explosion planned on the set, you ducked down and crawled together to where you were supposed to hide. The camera went back to filming the extras fighting. You had time to lie down for a few minutes.
You tried to forget the pain in your feet as you lay on your back where you were crawling. You were a little stressed by the narrow space you were in, but your breathing was regular.
As the shouting and explosions continued in the background, Aaron crawled to where you were. Since you had decided to lie on your back, he was now standing over you, leaning on his elbows. He never took his eyes off your eyes for a moment. “I enjoy you squirming Y/N” he said, and you realized that he had returned to the previous conversation. “But I'll make sure it won't be in pain.” Your breath began to betray you as his gaze slid to your lips. He leaned in even more, closing the distance between you a little more. “But I will also show you that we are away from the cameras,” his words sent a shiver down your spine and a warmth to your core.
He immediately noticed when you involuntarily squeezed your legs together. He leaned down until his lips touched your earlobe before leaving his spot for his scene. “I knew you were made for me, baby.” He said. And he left his location to continue shooting. Leaving you there to daydream with all your wetness and anticipation.
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#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aarontaylorjohnson#aaron taylor johnson#atj x reader#atj fic#Aaron taylorjohson x femreader#sergei kravinoff x reader#sergei kravinoff fanfiction#kraven x reader#sergei kravinoff#pietro maximoff#pietro marvel#pietro maximoff reader
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i miss you (Park Jihyo x Reader)
Angst with happy ending , smut
Was going to post this yesterday but I got sick again (or well I got worse after I felt better) but here we are! That being said I wrote this in a sick ish blur so if it’s not good I’m so sorry it was a fever dream writing it.
Your girlfriend Jihyo wasn’t always distant, even with her busy schedule of performances and recordings she still found a way to make time for you, more time than she had probably but then her solo debut came around and that changed.
Missed texts, calls, dinners, pretty much everything was met with a “I’m sorry baby, practice is running late”. She left the house before you woke up, and got home after you were in bed most days, though she was attentive and caring the few times you see each other, constant affection as usual.
Tonight was no different than the last how ever many, it was seven in the evening and you had cooked dinner for the two of you as she had promised she would be home in time and she was so stressed, it’s the least you can do for the love of your life.
Of course you trusted her words when she said she’d be on time, even if that was the naive thing to do, but now she was an hour late than she agreed to and you were sat on your couch drinking the wine that was meant for dinner. Then you get a phone call.
*Incoming call*
Hyo❤️🔥
You sit up fast, placing your wine glass on the coffee table before answering.
“Hyo, is everything okay?” You answer, “where are you?”
“Hey baby.” She starts, you can tell it’s not good news from her tone, the way she putting fake happiness in her voice.
“You’re not coming, are you?”, Disappointments laced every one of your words.
“I’m sorry love, they want to extend rehearsal for a couple hours.” You can hear the guilt seeping into her apology, “I have to stay since it’s you know my song, so I’ll have to miss dinner and I’ll be back late.”
You let out an amused huff, figures, how could you think tonight was any different than usual.
“Right.” You pause, looking at the made dinner on the table that is now cold and her wine glass that is still full, a couple candles scattered around, flowers sitting in the center waiting to be gifted to Jihyo,tears welling up in your eyes.
“I’m really sor-“
“It’s fine. Really.” Your voice breaks slightly, almost unnoticeable except for the fact that Jihyo knows every little thing about you especially when you’re not okay.
“You don’t sound fine.”
“Jihyo it’s okay, I’ll see you later.”
She knew it wasn’t okay, from your shaky voice to the fact that you called her “Jihyo” instead of “Hyo” or some other sweet pet name but she decided not to push while in front her band members.
“Okay, I love you-“
Jihyo can barely get the words out before you hang up, teary eyed glancing once again at the set dinner table with full plates, the sink with dishes from your couple hours of cooking.
Deciding to leave everything where it is, you head back to the couch and pick the wine glass up once again, sitting there until your girlfriend got home which was about three hours later.
You hear the door unlock and close, her keys being thrown onto the table by the door, and her heavy bag hitting the floor before she walks into the living room you’re in. She finds you sitting, watching some movie or more so dissociating while staring at the screen, empty wine glass in hand with the bottle on the table not empty but close to it.
“Baby..” she says, it’s quiet like she’s scared.
You don’t answer you just look at her, eyes watery and red from crying, tears stained your shirt.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.”
No answer again.
“Let me make it up to you.”
The only noise you make is a little chuckle, a familiar promise of her making it up to you that she has been making for weeks but never followed through.
“Did you eat?” She asks, quieter than before if possible.
“Does it look like I did?” You bitterly ask while waving your hand at the dinner table in the other room.
Jihyo’s eyes follow your hand, seeing the full untouched plates with a full wine glass, then she see the flowers and candles which causes her eyes to fill with guilty tears.
“Oh..” it comes out as a choked whisper, “I’m so sorry.” She finally walks over to you, getting on her knees in front of you and placing her hands on your knees, “I really wanted to be here, but rehearsal-“
She can’t finish her sentence before you’re pushing her hands off of you and standing up to go into the dining room.
“Can you stop making excuses Jihyo?” It comes out louder than expected, as you speak you start picking up the plates to throw the food away but she puts a hand on your wrist before you can get to the trash can.
“Don’t throw it out.”
“Really? You’re going to eat the dinner I made 5 hours ago? now?”
“Maybe, if it makes you feel better.” Jihyo can feel herself getting irritated after the long day of rehearsal, she knows she shouldn’t be seeing as she’s the one hurting you.
“I don’t think it will.” Before you throw the plates in the trash, admittedly harder than necessary, the both of them shattering when they land.
“Hey! can we just talk? Instead of throwing things” she says exasperated at the new angry behavior of yours.
“Jihyo, I’ve been wanting to talk. For weeks. And you were nowhere to be found.”
“I’ve been here every night.”
“Yeah when I’m already asleep. And then you leave before I even wake up. When should I talk to you during those times? Huh?”
“Baby you know how my job is, the schedules-“
“Yeah i do. And I know i agreed to dealing with it but… I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
“You do know me, I’m the same person as I’ve always been.”
“No, Jihyo, you’re not.” A pause. “When’s the last time we went on a date?” Tears filled your eyes again.
“I-I don’t know, a week ago?” She stuttered, taken aback by the sudden questioning.
“3. 3 weeks ago. When’s the last time you ate a dinner I made you while it was still hot?”
“I- I don’t know.” She looks at the ground in shame.
“Exactly.” You try walking to the door.
“W-“
“No. I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.” Turning back to face her.
“Please, baby. Let’s talk about this.” She goes to grab your hands which you quickly pull away as you walk in the other direction, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Go ahead. You have 5 minutes.”
“Wh- are you serious? 5 minutes?“ The shock leaves her face as she sees the serious look on your face, “I know I’ve been distant, and truly I am so sorry. I know my job isn’t an excuse but you have to understand I can’t exactly say no to staying longer or canceling schedules.”
“That’s not ev- the problem is that when you don’t have a schedule you’re nowhere to be found.”
“Because I’m tired, y/n. It’s exhausting sometimes to do what I do.”
“Too tired for me?”
“That’s not what i meant.”
There’s silence as you look as her, contemplating your next words.
“Maybe we should break up.”
“Wh- what? N-no.” Panic fills Jihyo as you speak, nausea taking over her body.
“Hyo, I don’t know if I can do this anymore, barely seeing you when you have a comeback and when you don’t, you’re on tour.”
“But-“
“You’re losing me Jihyo. You being gone all the time, it hurts. I just want you to be around more but you can’t do that.”
“I’ll do better. I’ll make them cancel some rehearsal days, bring you on tour with me, anything. I mean I’ll even take a hiatus.”
“You’d do that?”
“If it meant keeping you.” She was genuine, in all the years you’d known her you had grown to distinguish when she wasn’t being truthful, “Please, give me another chance.” She grabs your hands, this time slowly but you don’t pull away this time which ignites a hope in Jihyo.
“Fine. Maybe not a hiatus but-“
She cuts you off with a kiss, hands going to your face, it was soft and sweet, her love being translated through it.
“I love you.” Her eyes staring into yours, hands still on your cheeks, “I’ll do better. As a matter of fact, I’m going take tomorrow off.”
“Can you even do that?” You ask shocked, but a smile returns to your face.
“I mean, I am the idol, what are they gonna do without me? And they can’t fire me, I’m too valuable.”
You push her away playfully at the last part but she’s quick to grab your hands and pull you into her.
“How can i make it up to you?”
“Well, in general a lot, but just tonight? You can start by doing the dishes and then maybe joining me in the bedroom?” Your eyes are mischievous and suggestive as you look at her.
“Can’t we just skip to the bedroom part?” She pouts as she looks at the dishes in the sink and on the stove from the day.
“If you don’t do them, there will be no bedroom part.” You answer as she push her off you and towards the sink.
“Come onnnn”
You keep walking as she pouts heading to your shared room, deciding on skin care and changing to waste the time.
As you’re standing in front of your dresser, only wearing a pair of sweatpants, a voice from behind you appears.
“I think putting on clothes is kinda pointless.” Jihyo rasps out, as you meet her eyes in the mirror on your dresser they’re dark with blown pupils and staring directly at your bare chest.
“I have eyes you know.” At which she shifts her gaze up to make eye contact, a playful smirk on her face. But you do slide your sweatpants off onto the floor causing your girlfriend to smile.
“And I love those too.” She says walking behind you to wrap her arms around your waist, head on your shoulder with her mouth next to your ear, “but.. I’ve just missed touching you so much.” You feel her lips press into your neck and leaving a few marks as her hands glide up to squeeze your chest, fingers pinching your nipples, lips moving down to your shoulder before making eye contact with you, “Why don’t you go lay down for me pretty girl?” A soft dominance wafting off of her, you of course follow her orders immediately laying on the bed and spreading your legs slightly to show the growing wet spot on your underwear. Jihyo just stands at the end of the bed, staring at you with her lower lip between her teeth, eyes slowly moving from your face down your body almost lost in the sight of you, a minute passes before you speak.
“…Hyo?”
“Hm.”
“Are you going to stop staring and join me or?”
A blush spreads across her face before a smirk takes over.
“Sorry for admiring my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend.” She teases as she finally gets on the bed and climbs up to hover over you, hers eyes shining with love and once again staring you down as she studied your face for the millionth time in your relationship. You try interrupting her stares by leaning in to kiss her but she playfully pulls away, “I’m not done looking.” A hand goes to rest on your cheek.
“Hyo, I love you so much, but if you don’t touch me after today then I’m making you sleep outside.”
“Going to kick me out of my own house that I pay for?” She smiles but that goes away when she sees the quirk of your eyebrow that tells her you’re dead serious, causing her to capture your lips in a passionate kiss her tongue swiping at your lips begging to be let in which you part your lips letting her tangle her tongue with yours before pulling away and biting your bottom lip bring it with her before letting it go saliva still connecting you and looking at you, eyes darker than before.
She moves her lips to your jaw leaving light kisses, moving to your neck where she starts leaving marks. One hand squeezing your thigh, the other sliding from your hip to your chest.
“Hyo.” You whimper out.
“I know baby, let me take care of you.”
The kisses and marks move down to your collarbones and chest, she wraps her lips around your nipple while her hand attended the other one. After your chest is littered in purple marks and little bites her hand goes to your underwear feeling the wetness and rubbing you through the fabric making you gasp and rut up into her.
“So needy. You’re so wet baby, miss me that bad?”
“Please.”
Her kissing continues down your stomach until she reaches the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly making sure to leave a feathery kiss on every inch of new skin that showed, worshiping your body with her loving kisses. Reaching your knees she finally pulls your underwear all the way down and throws them to the floor, returning to her original place her face hovering over yours and you can feel the light touch of her lips on yours as she speaks again.
“I’m going to use my fingers first so I can see how much you missed me, okay?”
“Whatever you want.”
Her hand that rested on your thigh moved to your center, rubbing small circles at first. Small whimpers come out of your mouth as you close your eyes, truthfully you hadn’t really had sex that wasn’t a quickie in a green room for a performance in weeks so even her light touch had you close to finishing.
“Wait.” You say which causes her to stop and worry, “You know, you’re fully clothed…”
“Uh huh..” she says a smile on her lips, her fingers going back to making small circles on your clit now that she knows you’re not uncomfortable.
“And I am not. I don’t think that’s fair.” You can barely talk as she moves her fingers, but you get out the words even if they’re shaky. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason you wanted her clothes off is because you loved the sight of your nail marks and scratches on her back the next morning, you would trace them with your fingers as she laid down or in the shower.
Jihyo makes a show of sitting up on her heels and pulling her baggy shirt over her head, too slowly you think, her abs showing from her countless hours of rehearsals and her earlier workout. Then she unclips her bra and takes it off just as slowly, she leaves her sweatpants on though as she settles herself back, two fingers immediately going back to where they were but soon slid down to enter you agonizingly slow and were unmoving when fully inside, her thumb working circles on your clit.
“Don’t tease” Your voice is breathless and almost a whimper as you look at her heavy lidded eyes, “please.”
“Anything you want baby.” Her fingers move inside you as she speaks, the pace going from 0-100 almost instantly, after all she did promise to make up for her behavior so who was she to deny you, your playful threat of leaving her in the driveway for the night for not listening to you still present in her mind.
“Fuck.”
“Feel good pretty girl?” Her lips brush on your ear, and her warm breath causes shivers down your spine.
“So good.” It’s more of a whine than actual words.
The feeling of her fingers inside of you is dizzying, vision a bit blurred, all of your thoughts consumed by her.
“You’re doing so good. Taking my fingers so well.”
The words alone makes you tighten around her, wetness dripping onto the sheet below. You thought you were already close but then she angles her fingers up just right and it feels like you’re on fire, you hands grip her back nails digging into her skin dragging down to her waist where you pull her closer to you if possible.
“I’m so close.”
“Let go baby. You deserve it.” She whispers before kissing you but pulls away as you reach your orgasm, she just can’t miss the noises you make for her.
Your vision is white as you reach your peak, back arching off the bed and into your girlfriend’s chest, nails digging into her skin again as you moan loud enough for the whole world to hear. Jihyo’s fingers don’t stop moving inside you until you whine and put your hand on her wrist. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until she speaks again.
“Breathe baby.” A light chuckle falling from her lips while she strokes your cheek with her thumb, “are you okay?”
“More than okay.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
“Actually I think you might have to do a redo on that apology.”
“Oh yeah?” Jihyo’s eyes shined as she looked down at you
“Mm.”
“I think I can do that.” Before she retreats underneath the blanket with her head between your thighs.
She ended up apologizing about 3 more times that night before you were satisfied, but Jihyo didn’t mind as long as she had her girl.
#kpop imagines#twice jihyo#twice x reader#twice#twice imagines#twice x fem reader#jihyo x reader#park jihyo x reader#jihyo imagines#jihyo smut#park jihyo#park jihyo smut#park jihyo x fem reader
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˚⟡˖ when you are both idols — RIIZE | hyung line.
shotaro, eunseok, sungchan, wonbin
ᡣ𐭩 masterlist
note! hi hi! i want to start doing also one shorts of individual members, so if anyone has an idea or an scenario to write about let me know! ♥
genre fluff
pairing idol!riize x idol!reader
click here to see maknae line ver.!
ᯓ★ SHOTARO
You and Shotaro already knew each other before he debuted, since both of you have been dancers from a young age, and you had taken dance classes together more than once
When he debuted, you didn’t lose touch and continued talking through messages
Everyone around you knew how close you were—you even congratulated him on your Instagram stories for his debut!
Just a few months after Shotaro debuted, the company you were with decided to add you to the next group that was set to debut, and you finally debuted at the end of november as the main dancer
You and Shotaro would often meet up whenever you had the time
Since it was the end of the year, you were able to meet several times at year-end award shows and festivals, and you even had to practice together because you had a collab stage together.
Oh my god, everyone could sense the tension between you two.
You just weren’t officially anything, or rather, you had never talked about it.
After the collaboration, people started shipping you two. too much
And then screenshots of the stories from your old account surfaced, and people began to speculate whether you were a couple
Neither of the companies said anything, and you both continued acting as usual
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
You met because you were both chosen to be MCs together on a music show.
You couldn’t help but be surprised by how handsome he was in person.
At first, both of you were quite shy, but during the rehearsals for the special stage you had to prepare, you started talking more and becoming closer.
In truth, you had a lot in common, so it was pretty easy to find things to talk about. You wouldn’t stop talking until they called you back for practice.
After a few weeks as hosts, people began to notice how good your chemistry was, and you even started joking with each other during interviews.
It was no surprise when you won the award for Best MCs of the Year.
But after a few months, the contract as hosts ended, and your last day as hosts had arrived.
You were quite sad and even started crying during your final speech.
When you returned to your dressing room, you were still crying, so Eunseok came over to try and make you laugh, saying some joke as he always did, which worked.
“You know we’re going to keep seeing each other, right?”
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
You had heard that Sungchan from RIIZE was tall, but when you saw him in person in the company hallway, you didn’t expect him to be THAT tall.
He had debuted recently in RIIZE, but you had already been an idol for a few years, so when he saw you, he greeted you with a slight bow.
You found him too cute to just see him in the company hallways, so one day, you asked some mutual friends to give you his number so you could talk to him.
What surprised you was that you didn’t need anyone to give it to you, as you received a message from him just before you could send one.
“Thanks for the snacks you sent us! We enjoyed them ^^!”
A few weeks later, you were already having dates inside the company, in hidden spots so people wouldn’t catch you.
But the secrecy didn’t last long, because when asked in an interview who your ideal guy was, you didn’t take a second to perfectly describe Sungchan.
“I like tall men, very tall. And ones who work out regularly. But not serious ones, they have to make me laugh and have an angelic smile.”
Although there were some rumors, no major news broke out.
Whenever you were promoting at the same time, you always visited RIIZE’s dressing room to give them gifts and cheer them on, as well as to see your boyfriend.
ᯓ★ WONBIN
oh wonbin... Among all the idols, Wonbin is famous for his looks.
And that’s exactly what you did when you saw him in person for the first time.
You had to do a challenge for your comeback together, so you met in one of the hallways of the music stations to film it.
Wonbin had a very soft voice and was very respectful, and you could tell how ambitious he was since he didn’t mind recording as many times as needed until both of you were satisfied.
You couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him whenever you could.
But you refused to ask for his phone number—it was too embarrassing.
After finishing the recording, you simply said goodbye and went back to your respective waiting rooms.
To your surprise, you bumped into him again at the cafeteria.
And what surprised you the most was that as he left, he placed a piece of paper on your table.
His number.
Oh, your face turned red, and you couldn’t help but smile.
You didn’t hesitate for a second to text him, and to your surprise, you got along quite well.
It didn’t even take a week before you arranged to meet up to learn some dances together since you both loved it.
He was the perfect dance partner!
click here to see maknae line ver.!
#riize#riize imagines#riize scenarios#riize x reader#riize sungchan#riize shotaro#riize anton#riize reactions#riize wonbin#riize smau#riize sohee#riize seunghan#riize eunseok#riize fluff#2amriize#riize one shot#riize one shots
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Don't break my heart again - Megan Skiendiel
(non-idol) Megan Skiendiel X Reader
Synopsis - You've buried your feelings for Megan, or you've at least tried.
Genre – I don't know how to classify, but it has smut at the end non-idol au (request)
Warnings – semi-public sex? They almost get caught
a/n - I honestly don't think it was one of my best works, but here it is.
You waited, minutes passed and every second more that the clock ticked you wanted to leave Sophia and go home alone. Leaning against the hood of the car, you looked once again at the time on your phone, all the students had already been released, and as far as you knew, there was no reason for Sophia to take so long to leave the doors of the building. When you saw your sister finally coming towards you, you wished you'd left her behind when you had the chance.
Sophia and her friends walked towards you, laughing and being loud, as always. In the middle of the six girls, one of them caught your attention, leaving your shoulders slightly tense. You weren't a big fan of Megan, everyone said how much the redhead liked to play with people's hearts, you never cared much, until it happened to you. You didn't have to go to parties, but that day, Sophia wouldn't stop talking about how much you needed to go—She just needed a ride home—and you agreed, just to get her to stop filling your ears.
The party was boring, you didn't know many people, and your friends weren't there, what happens is that you ended up drinking something very strong, meeting a Megan, also drunk, in one of the hallways of the house. That night, you grew very close, every second making you forget that Megan had already broken the hearts of all your friends. You had drunken and surprisingly deep conversations, laughed at antics, badmouthed people, and kissed.
You hadn't told Sophia, but you remembered everything. You remembered how soft Megan's lips were, and despite the taste of the alcohol in her mouth, you could also taste the strawberry taste of the redhead's lip gloss. You hugged for the rest of the night, sitting on the roof of a stranger's house watching people fall drunk and vomit on the lawn. You thought everything was fine, you never saw Megan do anything like this to anyone. But the other day, when Megan didn't even look at you, you felt strange, your heart seemed to have shrunk, it seemed to have withered and broken into a thousand little pieces.
After weeks, Megan started acting like nothing was wrong, she flirted with you constantly, like you had never been intimate in your conversations and in your feelings. The fact that she ignored everything you went through that night, to continue with her games, made you furious, you didn't understand Megan.
"Where were you? I was here for half an hour!" You said, looking at Sophia like she's crazy.
"I had to wait for the girls, they are going with us, we are going to rehearse for a competition." Sophia said, if you paid more attention, you'd see a Megan looking at you with curious eyes.
"Whatever, get in the car, you've made me wait long enough." Turning around and settling behind the wheel, you started the car, finally driving towards your house.
All the way there, the girls were talking at an extremely high volume, making you want to jump out of the moving car. Your ears were grateful that Daniela and Manon had gone in the Latina's car, or you could do something crazy.
Megan was quiet in the back seat, you had taken a look or two in the rearview mirror, seeing the redhead looking out the window with a very thoughtful face, that explained why she hadn't said something stupid to you yet. Every time you looked at Megan, something went up in your chest, all you wanted was to get as far away from the girl as possible, when at the same time you wanted to take her by the shoulders and ask what was wrong with her.
Parking the car in the garage of your house, all the girls left excitedly, running towards Daniela's car, which was right behind yours. With a sigh, you walked into the house, the lively energy of the girls wasn't doing anything for you. When you closed your bedroom door and threw yourself on the bed, you let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding, the feeling of heaviness on your back relieving itself almost instantly. You had never given up, but deep down, you knew how Megan left you.
Loud music throughout the house made your eyes open, the sleep you didn't even know you needed doing wonders for you. Looking out your window, you could see the darkness of the night beginning to take over the sky. After gathering your strength, you got up from the bed, crawling downstairs, instantly seeing the six girls dancing to a well-crafted choreography. Suddenly, your gazes crossed Megan's, the redhead missing her steps, but quickly composing herself and continuing the choreography.
Heading towards the kitchen, you decided not to disturb their business, even if the urge to yell at all of them hit hard when you arrived at the kitchen and saw countless plates and glasses scattered on the kitchen counter. Deciding to wash all the dishes they had left, you started your work, mumbling profanities under your breath, until you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. You didn't turn around, but even so it was impossible not to know who it was, her perfume plagued the whole kitchen. Megan opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and leaning against you, drinking the water silently.
Peeking out of the corner of her eyes, you could see the sweat slightly accumulated on her forehead, you also caught a glimpse of the water droplets that ran down her chin and fell down her neck, making their way between the redhead's breasts, it was almost as if everything around you was teasing you.
"It's ugly to face." Megan said, putting the bottle down and turning her head towards you.
"You're very conceited if you think I'm staring at you." You were.
"If you haven't noticed, I'm kind of busy with the mess you guys made." You continued, raising your hands, showing a soapy glass in your hand.
"I realized, it sounds like you're pretty good at cleaning up other people's mess, doesn't it?" Megan said, approaching and running her hands down your back.
Moving away quickly, you looked at the redhead, who now had her back against the counter behind her. The look on her face said something you couldn't identify, and for a moment you thought about running away.
"What are you talking about, Megan?" You asked, glancing angrily at the girl in front of you. God, how you wanted to shut her mouth (with your lips).
Hearing Megan sigh and look back slightly, you were confused, and before you could start theorizing, the girl began to explain.
"You know, what I did after the party, it was kind of dumb." Megan said, crossing her arms.
"Wait a minute! Do you remember the party?" You asked, your body tensing, the anger rising higher and higher and you were ready to send Megan to hell.
"Look, I'm sorry. I panicked, I didn't know what to say, you're my best friend's sister, even though I like you I couldn't just start dating you." Megan said, as if everything was obvious, as if you were complicating the whole situation.
"And what did you want with all this, Megan? If you knew all this would happen why didn't you tell me before? You just left me in the dark this whole time!" You said, getting closer to the girl at the counter.
"I'm sorry, I'm just afraid Sophia will find out." Megan said, her approach making the girl nervous. "But I really like you, we could keep it lowkey."
"And what? I'd be another one of the idiots who stand behind you. No chance Megan, I don't want to be another one of your little toys." You said, ready to leave the kitchen, when the redhead pulled you close to her again.
"You're not one of them, I really like you. I was scared too, I never felt that way for anyone, and everything gets worse when I remember that Sophia would kill me if she found out that I had something with her little sister." Megan says, putting both hands on her head, you could clearly see that the girl was about to panic.
"Hey, Megan, calm down. I like you too. I was sad when you ignored me, and I was angry when you just started acting like I was just another one of your toys. I didn't know how you were feeling, so I told you you should have told me. I know Sophia wants to protect me, but I'm not a little child, I can decide what I want or not." You said, grabbing the redhead's hands, gently holding yours.
"And you want to be with me? Even after everything I've done? Because if the answer is yes, I promise to be better than I've ever been, seriously, I haven't spoken to anyone since the day we kissed, I'm not interested in anyone but you..."
You interrupted Megan, kissing the redhead's lips passionately. After all, if what she said was true, you would try, you knew Megan wasn't exactly the easiest person to deal with, but you were willing to try. Your hands were on the waist of the shorter girl, while her hands wrapped around your neck. The kiss was good, Megan's lips were soft against yours and tasted like strawberries, your bodies fit perfectly, looking like they were made for each other, and when Megan finally walked away, the words that came out of her mouth drove you crazy.
"Please, Yn... I need you, now!" The redhead said.
You couldn't resist any longer, the pout on her lips, those prickly eyes, her voice practically begging for you. As much as you didn't want to fall into Megan's trap, you knew you wouldn't resist. And in one swift motion you kissed the shorter girl again, your hands on her hips. The teeth of both of you chattered and your tongues competed for the command of the kiss. Finally coming out of the trance, you took the redhead in your arms and glued her to the counter.
"Since you're so afraid of Sophia, watch the door. You don't want her to come in and see what I'm going to do to you." Megan was surprised, and very afraid that one of the girls would come through the door, one of them in particular.
Megan was dressed in a skirt and a light blouse, she looked very hot, and although you try not to notice, of course you did. Lifting the redhead's skirt, you spread kisses on her thighs, biting and sucking from time to time, leaving marks that will be difficult to hide. Megan brought her hand to her mouth, trying not to let any sound escape, turning her head towards the door, the redhead made sure once again that all the girls were still in the living room, Megan was praying that none of them would miss her.
"Yn, please, quick." Megan says, pushing your head towards her pussy.
"You were asking for it, so you can take it." You said, finally sliding Megan's panties down the girl's legs and tucking them away in your back pocket, you saw how wet she was.
Without further ado, you finally attacked the redhead, licking every ounce of excitement that oozed from her. Her taste was wonderful and you swear you could stay there for the rest of your life. Meanwhile, Megan struggled, trying to look at the door and getting distracted by you between her legs.
"Please, Yn. Someone can come in at any time." Megan said in a trembling voice, you had never seen her like this, and you loved it.
Stepping out of between the redhead's legs, you took her in your arms, lowering her off the counter. Without letting her leave your hands, you turned Megan's body, leaving the girl facing the kitchen door, pressing her front against the counter and your front against her back, leaning in to whisper in her ear.
"Okay, now all you have to do is not let those pretty eyes close, okay, baby?" You asked, your right hand traveling from Megan's abdomen to her pussy, placing two of your fingers inside the redhead's pussy.
When Megan made mention of moaning, you were quicker, raising your left hand and silencing the shorter girl.
"We have to be quick, and you have to be quiet, can you do that for me?" You asked taking your hand out of the redhead's mouth, Megan turned her head slightly to try to look at you.
"Yes, I can. Please, I need you so badly, baby." Megan said with watery eyes.
Rushing in, you began to move your fingers inside the girl in front of you, not fully trusting her and taking furtive glances at the door from time to time. You were putting kisses and hickeys on her neck, while you felt her pussy swallow your fingers. Megan's hand was anchored to her mouth, as if she would scream if she took her hand away.
"Baby, I'm going to cum." Megan said, finally taking her hand out of her mouth and trying to look at you.
"Come on, baby. Cum for me." Speeding up your movements, you turned Megan's head with your left hand, reaching the redhead's lips making her moan inside your mouth.
When you felt Megan's liquid sliding down your hand, you quickly took your hand out of her, turning the girl to face you and kneeling in front of her. Placing one of her legs on your shoulders, you licked all the redhead's liquid, her taste flooding your taste buds and making you feel in heaven. Megan calmed down from the orgasm and ran her hands through your hair, her breathing slightly returning to normal as she watched you between her legs again.
You were snapped out of tranquility when Megan heard footsteps approaching the kitchen, pushing you lightly, making you stand and turn quickly toward the dishes — which had long been forgotten — in the sink. Megan lowered her skirt in time for a Sophia to enter the kitchen, changing her happy face to a suspicious expression.
"Were you here the whole time?" Sophia asked, your sister's steps slowing as she looks at you and Megan standing strangely in the kitchen.
"Yes, we were talking, you know. Just by updating us on things." Megan says, her legs still shaky from the wonderful orgasm you just gave her.
"Hm, okay then. Yn, can you leave the girls at home?" Sophia asked as she opened the fridge, making you drop the dishes you pretended to wash and turn towards the older girl.
"Urg, how long will it take for the mechanic to fix your car? I swear that if I have to take you anywhere else, I'll throw myself off the bridge." You say, passing your sister to get out of the kitchen, but not before taking a look at Megan, making the girl wink at you.
You didn't know how it was going to end, but all you wanted was not to have your heart broken.
I just had the worst day ever, but since I have a "schedule" of when I can write (so as not to interfere with my business), I had to get this out today or I would mess up my entire schedule.
I think I could have done better, but my brain is almost short-circuiting. I don't usually go to bed early, but I think today will be like that.
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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 11
Series Masterlist | Previous | Next
ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI
Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed
Sorry for the wait, had a stupid meeting Sunday evening until 10:30 having already worked a full opening shift that morning after a closing shift Saturday night. Then was dead tired Monday that my brain wouldn't fully let me write. But I got it done.
Chapter 11
“Binnie.” Felix walks up to the alpha hugging him as Jisung hugs Chan, Y/n sitting on the stool at the kitchen island watching.
“Channie.”
“What did you two do?” Changbin eyes the two omega like betas.
“We didn’t do anything.” Felix places a hand on his chest for being accused.
“What is it you two want?” Chan questions, pulling away from Jisung to look at the two of them.
“What makes you think we want something?” Jisung pouts.
“Because you guys always want something.” Changbin gives them a look making the omega laugh as she watches it all happen.
“And yet you guys never say no to us.” Felix smiles. “But anyways, we do want something.”
“Shocking.” Chan rolls his eyes giving Y/n an unamused look.
“Can we go on vacation?” Jisung gives the two alphas puppy dog eyes.
“Vacation?” Changbin looks at the two confused. “Where do you want to go on vacation?”
“And when?” Chan pulls his phone out. “Bin and I were already thinking of spending the holidays in Australia so that Y/n can experience it.”
Felix’s eyes light up at the thought of going to his home country with their omega for the holidays. “That sounds perfect… but we were also thinking of a small vacation with her here soon.”
“You know.” Changbin looks at the head alpha. “With all the stress we’ve had recently, I think we all could use a good vacation. And get to spend some time all together.”
Felix and Jisung both smile widely that they got one of them to agree and look for Chan's permission as well.
Chan sighs looking at his two younger mates before turning to Y/n. “What do you think, baby girl?”
“I think a vacation sounds nice. I would love to spend time with everyone as a pack. It would probably help with a lot of things.” She agrees with the other three. “But what about work for you guys? And for Min at the studio?”
“We run the company, pretty girl.” Changbin smirks. “And the company is all about family and packs, meaning if someone is needing to do something for their family or pack, then they should prioritize that. And this will help our pack bond, so it’ll be fine.”
Y/n nods in understanding, glad that they run their company like that.
“And Min’s just teaching summer classes.” Jisung speaks up for the second oldest alpha, who’s currently at work. “It's more just private one-on-one and some of the advanced classes but he doesn’t have like a set schedule he sticks to at the moment. Just uses this app where his dancers can put in the days they can be there this summer and he schedules classes weekly based on that.”
“And Seungmin won't be starting baseball tryouts until the very end of the summer so I think we’re all good.” Chan nods. “Where was it you guys were thinking about going?”
“Jeju Island.” They say at the same time.
“Should’ve known.” Changbin rolls his eyes.
Y/n giggles watching all of them lovingly as Chan messages Minho about not scheduling any rehearsals next week. Changbin takes the younger two and hugs them, making them pout as he rambled about no one being able to deny the two.
“When does your brother want to meet up with us?” Chan looks up from his phone at his omega.
“Ummm… he said any weekend is good, to just let him know.”
Chan nods before looking back at his phone again. “Do you wanna tell him we can meet him in the city on Saturday, have dinner or something and then we leave for Jeju island on Sunday?”
“I’ll see if he’s good with that.”
“Wait.” Jisung gasps. “We’re meeting your brother?”
“Yes we are.” Chan confirms, and raises a brow at the two younger ones. “So everyone needs to be on their best behavior.”
“Why’d you specifically look at us for that?” Felix eyes his alpha back.
“Because you younger ones are menaces.” Minho comes into the kitchen having just gotten home, poking Jisung in the ass causing him to pout and move away from the older male.
“Hyuk won’t care as long as you guys are truly yourselves and see that I’m safe and happy.” The omega reassures them.
Felix suddenly rushes over to the kitchen island and eyes Y/n a little before brushing her hair away from her neck, gasping and looking at Chan.
“Hyung?”
She realizes what he noticed and places her hand over her neck blushing as the other three in the room look at the two omegas confused.
“What’s wrong?” Minho immediately goes into caring alpha mode walking over to Y/n and pushes her hand away from her neck to see the mating bite over her scent gland. “Oh.”
Jisung and Changbin looks over too and the elder smirks at their alpha and Jisung pouts. “Who said you got to bite her first?”
“What?” Jeongin yells from the other room before you hear him run to the kitchen. “Someone bit Y/n already?”
Jisung points to the girl's neck showing Jeongin as he speaks. “Channie did.”
“Hyung.” The younger alpha joins Jisung in pouting.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that.” Chan crosses his arms. “I’m pack alpha, I get first claim on our omega, just like I got first claim on all of you.”
The two start to blush causing Chan to grab the two and wrap his arms around them cooing at how cute they are when Y/n’s phone goes off.
“Hyuk said that Saturday is good for him.” She reads her phone. “And sent a restaurant address, it looks like it isn’t too far from your guy's office.
Y/n shows them her phone and Changbin takes note of where the restaurant is. “I’ll go ahead and call to make a reservation for ten of us and see if my family's rental house on Jeju island is available.”
Y/n just gawks, unable to believe that Changbin also has a rental house on an island. What else do they have?
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Y/n stands in her room staring at her nest once again. Her omega instincts have kicked back in fully and she’s been feeling the need to nest all day. But no matter what she does it just doesn’t feel right and she’s not satisfied with it.
“UGH.” She growls, frustrated, and grabs a bunch of the blankets and pillows, throwing them out of the nest.
“Woah.” Seungmin walks in, wide-eyed, having heard her growl. “What happened in here?”
She looks at the beta, tears of frustration ready to spill as she drops to the floor, placing her head in her hands. “It’s stupid.”
“Hey.” Seungmin kneels down in front of her, grabbing her hands to move them away from her face. “What’s wrong, pup?”
“No matter what I do, the nest just isn’t right.” She cries, looking at the mess she’s made.
“I can go get Lix. He can come help you.” He tilts his head trying to get her to look at him.
She shakes her head no and huffs. “I need to figure it out myself.”
He looks at all the blankets and frowns, noticing that everything is the nesting materials Felix used to create her original one and not the new supplies he and Jisung got that they put in everyone’s rooms to get the packs scent on.
“I think I might know what your issue is.”
“What?” She finally looks at him.
“Why haven’t you gotten any of the blankets or pillows from our rooms?” He grabs one of the discarded blankets, it only smells like her from being in her nest since Felix had put it there.
“Umm…” The omega looks around before sighing. “I didn’t want to take anything from you guys or invade your guys’ rooms.”
“Baby.” Seungmin gently grabs her chin to make her look at him. “We keep an abundance of pillows and blankets around specifically for you and Felix to take and nest with. We want you guys to be comfortable in your nests with our scents, knowing you're safe.” He rubs her cheek with his thumb a bit. “If we’re needing more in our rooms we’ll just get some from the excess amounts we keep in the rest of the house. And we know eventually they stop smelling like us so you’ll switch them out for new ones from us. We don’t mind, we want you to do that.”
“Are you sure?” She still seems hesitant so he stands up grabbing her hands to pull her off the ground too.
“Go pick stuff from each of our rooms that you want for your nest.” He ushers her into the hallway and watches as she slowly walks into Jisungs room first.
She looks around unsure at first before a certain pillow caught her attention making her want it for her nest. She didn’t want to take it at first in case the beta gets upset that it’s missing but tries to remember what Seungmin said and quickly grabs it, leaving the room before she could talk herself out of it.
She does this with the others' rooms, taking a blanket or pillow that caught her attention. She took both pillows and blankets from Chan’s, Felix’s and Minho's rooms. And she’s lastly hesitating in front of Hyunjin’s door having just finished in Seungmin’s as she knew the oldest beta is in there.
“Just knock, pup.” She listens to Seungmin and waits for a reply from the oldest beta before opening the door:
“Hey princess, what’s up?” Hyunjin looks up from his sketchbook, where he’s sitting on his bed.
“C-can I…” Y/n mumbles, looking down at the floor. “… take some stuff for my nest?”
“I didn’t catch that, baby.”
She sighs. “Can I take some stuff for my nest?” She speaks a bit louder.
“Princess, look at me.” He waits for her to look up from the floor and his heart melts when she makes eye contact with him. “You never have to ask me to take stuff for your nest, I want you to have my scent if that’s what you're needing.”
She nods and looks around the room slowly as Hyunjin goes back to sketching. But the only thing she’s wanting is the blanket he’s currently using. She sighs, deciding to just leave empty handed not wanting to take anything if he’s using it.
“Didn’t find anything you wanted?” Hyunjin notices her heading towards the door.
“N-no.” The omega mutters causing him to frown at the fact she still stutters sometimes around him. “I did, but…” She looks at the blanket over his lap but shakes her head.
“Is it this blanket you’re wanting?” He starts to lift the blanket off of him to give to her.
“No, no. You don’t have to give it to me.” She puts her hands out to stop him but instead the beta rolls up the blanket a little placing it in her arms. “I don’t want to take it if you’re using it.”
“Baby, take the blanket. I can get a different one.” He pushes the blanket further into her hands, walking her out of his room before she tries to put it back on his bed. “Go add it to your nest.”
Seungmin smiles as he sees the two come out of the room and moves to the side to let Y/n go nest as Hyunjin joins him and they walk down the stairs to join the rest of their mates in the kitchen.
“You two okay?” Felix asks, noticing them first as he’s baking brownies, the others sitting in the living room look over too.
“Y/n’s finally giving in to her omega tendencies and is nesting.” Seungmin explains, taking a seat at the kitchen island.
Felix’s eyes light up. “That’s great.”
“Except she didn’t want to take anything from our rooms to nest with so she was using the old materials you originally had used to make her first nest.” Seungmin sighs. “Found her crying in frustration because she didn’t know why she couldn’t get it right.”
“You told her she can get whatever she needs from our rooms right?” Jisung sit’s forward as if he’s ready to go upstairs and tell her himself.
“Of course I did.”
“She came to my room last, was afraid to ask for anything.” Hyunjin sighs, grabbing a blanket from the large basket of them in the corner of the living room. “She almost left without anything because she wanted the blanket I was currently using, had to force her to take it.”
“I’ll talk to her.” Chan stands up. “Remind her that this is her home now too.”
The alpha goes up the stairs quickly, walking towards the omega’s room and stops in the doorway. He watches her for a few minutes as she nests. He’s always enjoyed watching Felix nest and waits until either she notices him or she finishes. He watches her, carefully choosing which pillows and blankets to put where, smelling them occasionally to decide how she wants her nest set up. It isn’t until she sits back on her knees looking around the nest satisfied with the outcome that he knocks on the doorframe causing her to turn.
“Hi Channie.” She smiles as he comes in and he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Hey baby girl.” He watches her as she crawls closer to him and he puts an arm out for her to slot herself into his side. “I see you managed to build your nest by yourself.”
“I did.” She beams, snuggling into his side. “Minnie had to help encourage me a bit.”
“I heard.” He looks down at her. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Oh?” Y/n looks at him a bit scared that she’s in trouble for taking stuff from their rooms. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, none of us are upset.” He reassures her, putting out calming pheromones. “I wanted to remind you that you don’t have to be afraid to go around the house. This is your home now too, ya know? Yes we have some rules for you outside of the house but here, you’re free to do what you want. And we want you to take whatever you want for your nest. We just want you to be comfortable, okay?”
“Okay.” She mumbles. “I’ll try to be better about it.”
“I’m not asking you to do better, baby.” He lays his head on top of hers. “Just don’t want you to feel like you have to be cautious around us or walk on eggshells.”
“I guess I’m just used to doing that.” The omega sighs leaning heavily into his side.
“I’m sure you are.” He pulls her closer. “But we’re gonna help you not feel like you have to do that anymore. This home is different from your last one, you’re free here.”
The omega nods in understanding, taking comfort in his words. “Thank you.”
______________________________________________________________
A/N~ now that the pack knows their omega has been claimed by their alpha, who do you think is next to do so?
reminder to keep an eye on the series masterlist of dates for future chapters posting as they get written.
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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 5 (18+)
Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.
Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!
Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut
Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, drinking, makeout
Word count: 4.4k+
Taglist requests are closed.
Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog
A/N: Finally!! They are kisssssinnngggg!!!
Main Masterlist
Chapters:-
Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale
Jungkook should have headed home.
He knows he should have received Jiwon’s calls and replied to her messages at least once to confirm that he is alive.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn't think of anything else after seeing you with another man, the man that you referred to as a special client earlier. He knows he has no right to invade your personal boundaries now, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be curious or worried about you.
What if you are wasting your life away trying to move on from him, what if your client (that didn’t look like only a client) is a pervert?
He should be there for you. you are, afterall, much more than just his ex-girlfriend to him.
That’s exactly what brought him to your (once shared) apartment. Even though the decision is induced by two bottles of soju and three cigarettes in a row, he doesn't regret.
Jungkook rehearses his lines again and again. He drew a mindmap of what conversations to initiate with you once he charges straight up to your door. But even before he could head near the entryway - he sees you getting out of the same car that picked you up from Jimin’s.
And it’s the same man that had touched you in a way he doesn’t approve of.
He lights another cigarette as he watches the scene upfolds one after another in front of him. That man says something, you reply to him, he takes a step towards you, you take a step back, he leans down and you don’t stop him.
Jungkook’s blood starts boiling. He throws the cigarette away and surges forward to stop whatever is going on but the car window slides down and if he is not wrong then it’s a kid who talks to the man standing with you.
Are you flirting with a married guy now? Are you that desperate to move on? To forget him?
Before he can understand anything, he sees you bidding them goodbye and walking away. The car leaves a little later.
Your face still feels hot.
For a moment you believe that all of it is a dream. There is no way Hoseok said it’s impossible to fall out of love with you. There is no way he admitted that he could do anything to make you his. There is no freaking way he was seconds away from kissing you!
All of it is happening too fast. It’s been roughly four weeks since you met him. And it’s been a month and half since Jungkook broke up with you.
Aren’t you moving on too fast? Are you really attracted to Hoseok or is he just a suitable rebound to you?
These questions plague your mind. You grip your hair out of frustration.
Hoseok can never be a rebound. That won’t be justified to him or to the kindness he has been treating you with.
But the way you felt nervous and breathless around him a few minutes ago, the way his dark eyes managed to make you want him shamelessly - not all of it was because you desperately want to move on from your ex-boyfriend, is it?
The doorbell rings loudly in your empty apartment and you realize you are still sitting on the couch and you haven’t even changed.
The clock says it’s 7:40 pm and you frown at that. You wouldn’t have visitors on a Saturday during this hour. So it might be your grocery that you placed an order for just this morning.
Getting up from the couch, you take slow steps towards the door and the bell rings once again. The delivery guy must be in a hurry, so you scream a little “coming” as you take the doorknob in your hands and open the door.
And your head starts spinning all at once.
“What are you doing here?” You ask the man standing at your door. The same man who broke your heart six weeks ago. The words come out with less surprise and more anger.
“I- uh- I need to pack rest of my stuff…” he pauses, visibly struggling with his words, “can I come in?”
You sigh, a long one, as you open the door wider for him to come in.
Today is indeed a bad day. You wanted to avoid him once and you ended up coming across twice.
Shutting the door loudly enough, you look at Jungkook. He looks restless. He is still wearing the same clothes you saw him in earlier, so he might not have headed home since then. The strong smell of soju and cigarettes highents your suspicion.
He looks back at you, with big, doe, glossy eyes. Once you felt unbelievably weak for them but now you feel numb. The moisture in those dark orbs does nothing to worry or unsettle you.
You wait for him to say something or to head inside your (once shared) bedroom and pack up whatever stuff he had left behind. But he does nothing. He stands there staring at you as you do the same.
You sigh again, “as far as my knowledge goes, you have nothing left to pack. But you can check again, or whatever you please.”
You divert your eyes from him and walk towards the kitchen to pour him a glass of water.
“I know that. I know there’s nothing left.” he finally speaks up, making your head turn towards him through the open space of the kitchen.
You feel anger growing inside you with every passing moment. If he knew then why the fuck did he come? What brings him here at your apartment on a saturday night right when you feel way too much troubled with your feelings and emotions?
But you control it. You are trained to control your emotions during these kinds of situations. So you take in a deep breath and open your mouth to speak again.
“Then may I ask what brings you here, Jungkook? That too in the state of intoxication? If this is about the apartment itself then let me remind you that the lease is in my name and I have already wired you the share you had paid up until the breakup.”
He walks towards you. Standing on the other side of the kitchen counter he says, “I just wanted to see you, Y/N.”
A sarcastic chuckle bubbles in your throat at that.
“We don't really share a relation to see each other frequently, don’t you think so? Besides, you just saw me this afternoon.”
This time Jungkook laughs. Just like yours, his laugh, too, is punctuated with sarcasm. But you don’t know how he can be sarcastic. He is the one who left you, he is the one who has a girlfriend waiting at home for him while he is here at his ex-girlfriend’s house and he is the one who should be guilty, not you.
Suddenly you feel a strong urge to throw the glass full of water on his face. But you calm yourself down again.
“Well, you didn’t even look at me properly. You were so eager to entertain your special client that you basically ran out of Jimin’s place.”
The insides of your mouth taste sour at how Jungkook emphasized the words special client.
“I don’t get it.” your head feels heavy, squeezing your eyes shut tight you continue, “I don’t get why are you here at this hour, having an unnecessary argument about my life?”
“I am not arguing with you.” Jungkook frowns as he manages to protest.
“Okay.” you resign. You know stretching the matter any further will only complicate things and you don’t want that to happen. You don’t want him inside your home or within your 10 meter radius ever again.
Feeling Jungkook’s constant stare on you, you stand straight and try to put an end to whatever is happening right now, “Jungkook, you are drunk. Let me book a cab-”
“Who is he?” your ex-boyfriend cuts you off.
“Who are you talking about?” you can sense jealousy and possessiveness in his voice. And this is something you never liked even when you were together. So, seeing him jealous now because of whatever reason, when he is the one who left you, makes you even more furious.
“That guy you almost kissed a few minutes ago?” the words leave through his gritted teeth, triggering something venomous inside you.
“Does your pretty little actress girlfriend know that you have been following your ex-girlfriend and keeping records of the guys I meet?” you actually grip the glass now, ready to throw the water on Jungkook’s face if he says another word out of line.
“You didn’t answer me, Y/N. Who was he?” Jungkook stands his ground, stubborn to show his non-existent rights on you.
“That’s. None. Of. Your. Business.” The words come out low but coated with anger. You fail to recognize yourself.
Jungkook comes closer to the kitchen counter and lodges himself between the stools. Only the thin kitchen island is separating the two of you.
Two months ago, you yearned to have him at this proximity at least. Ironically enough, now you hate it.
“It is. It is my business if you are flirting with a married guy just to move on from me! I should.. I should step in.”
And that’s it. That was the last nail in the coffin.
You pour the water on his head without waiting for a second more.
He closes his eyes with a visible tick in his jaw as the cold water runs down from his hair down to his face, gradually wetting his clothes.
“Come out of your dream, Jeon Jungkook. The world doesn’t revolve around you. My life, my choices, my decisions - nothing, you impact nothing! You aren’t worth my thoughts or my tears anymore. Do you get that?” you spat at his face.
Jungkook stands still. The change in your level-headed demeanor took him by surprise, it seems. However, his gaze softens, jaw relaxes soon. Maybe it’s the cold water or maybe his conscience decided to make a comeback now.
Running a hand through his now dripping hair, Jungkook tries to establish his point again, “Y/N, I am sorry. I am just worried about you. That guy has a kid-”
“I will give you two minutes to leave, Jungkook. If you fail to do so I am going to call your manager.” You garb a kitchen towel and throw it on his face, “or worse… the paparazzi.” with that you leave him hanging awkwardly at the dining space making a beeline for your bedroom for some solace.
“Jungkook! Where have you been? Have you checked your phone? I have been texting and calling you? Are you alright? Did anything happen? Why are you soaked? Jungkook? Fucking answer me!”
Jungkook’s head pounds more and more with every single word that comes out of Jiwon’s mouth.
He is still processing whatever happened tonight. But the alcohol level in his blood makes it almost impossible to form a coherent chain of thoughts. Jiwon, too, keeps throwing questions at him, pushing him towards the edge of losing his cool.
Somehow managing to get out of his heavy boots, he trudges towards the couch and flops down, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s questions and presence.
“Jungkook, please tell me. Did something bad happen? Where were you all day?” She sits at the end of the couch, by his leg, her voice is slightly less hyper than it was a minute ago.
“At Jimin’s” Jungkook whispers briefly as he covers his face with one of his forearm. He needs to rest. He needs to provide his mind and heart with a break after everything those went through today. But as soon as he closes his eyes, your face is what he sees.
He has never seen you as angry as today. In those three years he spent with you, there were fallouts and arguments but never once you were as furious as you were today. You used to be either silent or passive aggressive before, but today you attacked him directly. There was fire in your eyes and venom in your voice. You even poured cold water on him.
He knows he was unreasonable today. He knows he pushed all of your buttons. But what he doesn’t know is why he is hurting.
He fell out of love with you. He, now, loves someone else.
Then why on earth the prospect of you dating another man hurts him this much. Why couldn't he stop himself from acting unreasonable today? Why did he show up at your place and make a scene when it shouldn’t be his business to interrogate who you are dating.
Jiwon shakes his body and he realizes that his sleeves are now wet with his tears.
Fuck! Why am I crying? Jungkook thinks as he tries to sit up.
“You weren’t with Jimin. He said you left after lunch. And it’s 9 pm now.” sniffing carefully, Jiwon adds, “and you are drunk.”
“Yeah. I went for a drink later on.” Jungkook sighs.
“Okay. But how did you get wet?” Jiwon throws her next question.
“Can you please shut it, Jiwon?” the shout comes out of his throat involuntarily, so much so that it even takes himself by surprise. But he does nothing to conceal his bubbling annoyance, not even when he sees Jiwon’s eyes growing glossy.
“I am sorry. I was just worr-”
“I am sorry, too, Jiwon! I am sorry for not responding to your calls and messages and for shouting at you now but-” he sighs, feeling defeated, “but can you please leave me alone? I need to rest.”
“Yeah, alright.” Jiwon gets up from her seat and walks towards the bedroom.
Jungkook can feel her stopping in the middle of her tracks, turning towards him.
“But if it’s about her, then… you need to fix yourself as soon as possible.”
Jungkook doesn’t answer that.
Sunday and Monday go in a blur.
You somehow feel way better after kicking Jungkook out of your apartment. A little, angelic part of you regrets being rude to him, especially for pouring cold water on his head.
You could have handled the situation better, like the adult you are. On top of that, you are a psychologist. You should have acted more wisely.
But the bigger part of you is satisfied.
You accepted everything when he said he fell for someone else. You did let him go knowing that there is no point of holding someone on when their heart isn’t with you anymore.
But you couldn’t accept his unreasonable possessiveness or the way he shamelessly showed up at your place and especially the way he talked about you and Hoseok.
So in conclusion, Jungkook deserved it.
And you feel good about it.
After a while everything seems to be falling in place. You are starting to heal, you are getting attracted to someone very appealing, you had only two clients left, one of which just had her last counseling with you today.
Another one is Sua, and you have a very good feeling about her too.
Tonight you decided to treat yourself a little. Lightening a lavender scented candle and choosing an over-expensive sheet mask to pamper your face, you lie down on your bed.
For once you decide to think about absolutely nothing. You want to let your mind float and see where it lands.
Your eyes close. The wet, cold sensation from the sheet mask feels too good on your face and you try to focus on that only.
But bam!
As soon as you let your thoughts flutter, those decide you paint a particular face with heart shaped smile, dark, warm and mysterious eyes, and a lithe body that you want on yours-
And your phone rings.
An annoyed groan leaves your lips!
“Why the fuck did I leave it on ring?” grabbing the phone from the night stand you scream at yourself.
But your annoyance dies as soon as you see the intruder's name on the screen.
It’s Hoseok.
You gulp, smoothing your voice that went hoarse with the scream, and then you pick it up tapping the speaker icon.
“Hey, Y/N” his smooth voice fills your ear. A smile creeps to your lips without your knowledge, “Is this the right time to talk to you? I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
His unsure voice cut through the little bit of hurt that you have been feeling after experiencing radio since from his side after whatever happened on Saturday.
“No, you didn’t. Tell me what’s up? Is Sua alright?” You try to keep your voice professional. And professionally he shouldn’t call you past business hours if it’s not an emergency.
“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s better actually. We went grocery shopping yesterday and she was a lot more talkative. Thanks for everything.”
“Eh. I’m not going to discount you even if you keep thanking me.”
He laughs at that, making you feel lightheaded with the sound.
“I have a favor to ask, actually.” hoseok says, as the laugh dies down.
“Yeah. Tell me.”
“Sua’s homeroom teacher has called for a PTA on wednesday and I have decided to let her know everything. But I don’t think I will be able to handle the situation wisely since I can’t keep my anger in check when it comes to her. So….”
“So?”
“So, could you please join me? Since you are her doctor you will be able to do it better.”
You stay silent. The idea of joining Hoseok to his daughter’s PTA meeting feels too intimate. Even though you know you are going just as her doctor.
“It’s totally alright if you don’t want to. I know this might not be under your responsibilities and I am sor-”
“I will join you. You can text me the time and address, right?”
“Yeah sure. Sure, I can.”
You can feel his smile on the other side of the line.
It doesn’t take you a minute to spot Hoseok and his luxurious sleek car. And you feel your breath caught in your throat yet again.
How can a man be so attractive? He is handsome indeed but the aura of authority that he exudes knocks you off your socks each and every time you see him.
When your eyes meet, he is still on the phone. For a moment you wonder, if it’s the woman Mina or not.
“Hi… Thanks for coming.” Hoseok voices, cutting the call. His dark eyes bore into yours. You can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he quickly checks you out from head to toe.
Fuck! Did you overdress yourself?
“Again, hoseok, I get paid for doing this.” you add a little playfully making him chuckle.
This time, you check him out.
He has chosen to wear a black turtleneck today, tucked inside tight black slacks, along with a black blazer.
Miraculously enough, you have chosen to wear a black wrap dress. And you two look nothing short of a grim reaper couple today.
You chuckle to yourself at the thought.
“Do I? Do I look funny?” Hoseok asks in surprise.
You wave your hands desperately to dismiss his thoughts, “No no. It's just that we look like a grim reaper couple today. Dressed in all black.”
“Oh” hoseok laughs lightly, “but a couple regardless.”
You lose both of your mind and heart at his statement.
The meeting went smoother than you expected it to.
Obviously, the homeroom teacher couldn’t find her voice when you handed her Sua’s counseling reports.
Even though she once tried to defend herself when Hoseok told her that she should have focused on Sua better, that she should have monitored her behavior and informed him if she was being quieter than usual. But she acknowledged her carelessness when you pointed out all the behavioral changes that were easy for a teacher to spot.
She decided to talk to Jaemin and her parents personally and let you and Hoseok know of the outcome. And she also promised to take special care of Sua and transfer Jaemin to a different section to keep him away.
“Do you think that kid and his parents will understand his mistakes?” Hoseok asks as you two walk through the corridor.
“They should but that depends a lot on what kind of people they are. Since Jaemin is as old as Sua, it’s impossible for him to develop the concept of an illegitimate child by himself. He must have heard that somewhere, most likely from his mother. Even though it’s just my assumption, if that’s the case then his parents need to be schooled as well.”
“Then we will need to meet them personally.”
“Yes, if that kid refuses to leave Sua alone, we will have to meet them personally. And I will try my best to make them reflect on their mistakes, don’t worry.” you add briskly, stepping out of the school building. “I’ll take my leave now, bye.”
“No wait.” Hoseok holds your forearm, even though you haven’t moved an inch or tried to walk away from him.
The foreground is full of parents but it seems like no one is paying you any attention, so you try to relax yourself at his touch.
Hoseok eases too and lets his hand fall by his side, “do you have any plans for this evening?”
“No. I don’t.” Your heart starts beating loudly. Is he going to ask you out or something?
“It’s almost 3:30 now and I assume you have had your lunch already. So, why don’t you have dinner with me and Sua? I am gonna pick her up from noona’s place on our way home.” Hoseok proposes.
You think it through for a while. Dinner? At his place? Will you be alive by the end of the day?
“I don’t think-”
“Please, Y/N? Please?” Hoseok pleads, stepping towards you.
“Okay then.” you let your resistance fall limp on the feet of your emotions.
Hoseok is not a good cook but he knows how not to mess simple things up. So he sticks to the basics - Kimchi fried rice and samgyeopsal, accompanied by all the banchan his mom and sister send him every week.
He knows he needs to focus on the vegetables while chopping those but he can’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you.
You look so bold and beautiful today. The black wrap dress is perfectly professional yet too sexy. He wants to undo that tie and let the dress fall on your feet to discover whatever wonders you are hiding underneath.
You giggle with Sua. Both of you are coloring something while you engage her in a casual conversation.
Hoseok’s heart warms at the scene.
This is what he always wanted. A small family, a mother-figure for sua and a partner for himself. But he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Why would you want a single father like him when you could have bachelors lining for you.
But then again, you didn’t stop him when he was about to kiss you that day. You accepted his invitation even though Namjoon mentioned you to be strictly professional. And now you are at his house, sitting in his dining room, playing with her daughter as he cooks for the three of you in the kitchen.
Is he being too greedy?
“You have got a beautiful balcony here.” You mutter staring at the sight ahead.
“Really? Thank you.” Hoseok comes to stand beside you, handing you the glass of wine.
“Yeah. your house, too, is very clean and organized, which is very rare for single parents, especially single fathers. It tells of the fact that you are, as a person, very sorted out.” You complete before taking a sip from your glass.
Hoseok’s eyes are fixed on your side profile. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at how gorgeous you are.
Then you turn your face towards him, giving him a lazy smile, you say “What? Am I wrong?”
“No. Not at all. About cleanliness though, Sua helps a lot. Even though she is only seven, she knows how to keep things at their places. She’s truly much more mature than the kids of her age.” he smiles at the thought of her daughter.
You smile too, remembering how she fell asleep keeping her head on your lap earlier.
“Sua is very tired today.” you whisper.
“Yeah she is. She never slept before having her dessert. She is definitely very tired today.” Hoseok nods in agreement.
“Do you know why she is tired?”
“Why?”
“Because she played around after a long time. She told me that she became friends with her hoobaes and taught them how to play red light, green light.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah. She is getting better, Hoseok.” you finally turn towards the man fully and find him way too close to keep a respectable distance between two bodies.
Hoseok, though, is loving the proximity. He wants to have you close, right now… forever.
“And a lot of credit for that… goes to you. You are such an exceptionally great dad.” You smile up at him. Your heart is wilding inside your rib cage and you want to know if Hoseok is feeling the same.
“What about me as a man in general?” Hoseok whispers, starting to lean down. You are irresistible and he doesn’t know how to control himself anymore.
“That’s not under my diagnosis. I need to find that out personally. But my work ethic won’t allow me.” you let the words out of your mouth. But your body completely deceives you as you close whatever distance your bodies had left in between.
The moment your body touches his, your eyes meet his pair, which are now hazy with lust, Hoseok loses it.
“Fuck ethics” you hear him curse before his mouth crashes yours. His free hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer. You kiss him back instantly.
Two pairs of lips mold perfectly against each other.
Hoseok kisses you relentlessly, as if he has been hungry for your lips for a long time now. His hand holds you tightly to keep you in your place.
Your free hand grabs him by his neck, kissing him with just as much urgency.
He sucks your lower lip as you do the same with his upper one. Soon his tongue finds its way inside your mouth, testing every corner.
You moan in his mouth when you feel his hands diving down to your ass and giving it a pleasant squeeze.
“Stay the night?” Hoseok whispers parting for a bit, as a string of saliva connects both of your lips.
Taglist 1:-
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika
Taglist 2:-
@llallaaa @mikrokookiex @parkinglot-nights @hiqhkey @diamonddia-mond @00frenchfries00 @koalasandcuddles @superchamchi88 @ttanniett @coralmusicblaze @multiasf @kookscumrag @sumzysworld @knjjjk @xtrataerrestrial @survivalistghost @kelsyx33 @aann95 @btsffreader92 @jjk174 @dragonflygurl4 @xwniazx
#bts angst#bts smut#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#hoseok angst#hoseok smut#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#hoseok x reader#bts fanfiction#jungkook fanfic#hoseok scenarios#jhope angst#jhope smut
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Paring: Lestat de Lioncourt x reader
Synopsis: sick and tired as you are of Lestat’s treatment you decide to put your situationship on hold, until he comes for you. Inspired by the SDCC trailer.
Warnings: toxic relationship, kissing, p in v sex, blood drinking, biting, choking, clit pinching, edging, violence, butchering of the French language.
A/N: reader is AFAB. They/them pronouns used, but French is a gendered language, which forces me to decline the adjectives as feminine whenever Lestat uses them when referring to reader.
The bustling in the dressing room is doubled by the fact that there’s no space to move; the concert is due to start in no time and you are all still running about, trying to prepare the man of the hour, the rock star the people in the arena are cheering, whose name they’re screaming at the top of their lungs: The Vampire Lestat. The one and only.
NSFW and 18+ only please!
Your current walking, not breathing headache. The undead man you’re trying to ignore with all your might.
You had asked a colleague to do his hair and makeup these last few nights, even though you’re supposed to be his personal stylist, and threw yourself into working with the rest of the band as a revenge for the way he’s been treating you lately; you know you’re on borrowed time, that he’s letting you give him the cold shoulder that, if he truly wanted, you’d be still working on him, whether you liked it or not.
You almost crash in one of the documentary crew people: they swarm everywhere and are always in everyone’s general space, filming and asking questions. You try to lay low, do your job and then hide until the next concert, yet you feel like the journalist, Daniel Molloy, has his eyes trained on you behind his tinted glasses, and you don’t like it: Lestat has a rabid fanbase, if anyone had the inkling he’s fucking you (because to call whatever it is what you two have a ‘relationship’ would be an exaggeration), you’d have no peace.
Lestat has been a menace, more than his usual self, during rehearsal and in his dressing room, unhappy with the various options for the Halloween concert, changing his outfits too many times and now your colleagues are in a hurry to prepare him, hence why you’re here instead on your perch backstage, ready to do touch ups in between songs.
You ignore his stunning eyes as you bend to finish applying the last layer of powder on his forehead and nose.
“Ma choue.”
You can hear is deep voice in your head, almost snapping the small brush in a half in annoyance: he knows you hate it when he calls you ‘my cabbage’, it makes your blood boil that it’s supposed to be a term of endearment; who, in their right mind would call someone at least dear to them ‘cabbage’? Might as well call them ‘lettuce’ or ‘ tomatoes’!
“Tu me manques.” He continues, his face not betraying any emotion, while his hand moves sneakily to caress the inside of your tight; in your head his voice has taken that low timbre of when he’s deep inside of you, fighting his orgasm.
“Would that be all, Mr. De Lioncourt?” You ask, coldly, moving away from his grasp. “You don’t look like you need me.”
Your words echo his when he dismissed you, not longer than a week ago, right before the first day of shooting.
As used as you are to his mercurial moods, that day you were already angry with him, his careless words were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back and made you decide to put whatever the two of you have going on (“Still better than Twilight” a voice in your head keeps telling you) on an indefinite hold or, as indefinite as he’ll decide it’s going to be.
Before leaving for the backstage, you let one single thought ring through your mind, positive as you are that he’s listening:
“Fuck you Lestat! The only thing you miss is my blood!”
To everyone else his face betrays no emotion, you’re used to read in between the lines with him and the twitch of his mouth tells you there’s going to be hell to pay: you’ll burn that bridge when you’ll get there, if ever, now it’s your time to be an asshole, and have fun while you’re at it.
You run into the dressing room swearing under your breath: how in the name of all is holy and sacred you forgot one of the foundation sponges here? You didn’t even use it on Lestat!
In a hurry you start rummaging through all the crap and garbage your colleagues and Molloy’s crew have left around: between your crazy work hours and the concerts dates being so close to one another, you don’t have the time to buy a new one and you find yourself hunting for this stupid one that’s finished God only knows where.
“Looking for this, ma choue?”
You turn around too fast, whipping the muscles of your neck painfully to look at Lestat, who has closed, and locked, the door behind his back and is leaning against it, pink sponge in his hand.
You know he’s fresh off the stage after the third encore, the pinkish red of perspiration is staining the dying makeup and collar of his elaborate shirt.
“I should have known you had taken it.” You growl back.
“What should a man do when he’s been ignored?” He says nonchalantly. “You left me with no choices, ma belle.”
Instinctively you start looking for a way out of the small room, knowing all too well there’s only the door, and that he stands on your pathway out of here and towards the safety of your hotel room.
“Perhaps, a man, should ask himself why he’s been ignored.”
You square your shoulders, yet your insecurity is betrayed when you start pinching the inside of your right arm, where he’s first bitten you.
The wound has healed nicely, the scar remains, too small to be truly noticed if not for the constant redness of your picking at the skin there.
You remember when he first drank from you, so many months ago when you still believed the whole ‘Vampire Lestat’ persona was just a stage play; he had looked at you with those eyes, mesmerizing, whose color you couldn’t truly name, making you feel like a lamb would in front of a hungry wolf, right before gently grabbing your uncovered arm to bite the delicate skin and drink enough blood to make you feel dizzy on your feet.
“And what did a man do?” He asks, advancing like the predator he is, as if he owns the room hell! The entire building.
You try to stand your ground, shoulders squared, legs firmly planted on the floor: the bridge is here, you might as well go down swinging.
“Oh, I don’t know, treat me like a blood bag and demean me in front of the cameras?”
Two days before your personal bombshell, he had complimented the taste of your blood, and responded a second too late, when you had bluntly asked if he looked at you like he would a steak, then the whole ‘Do I look like I need you?’ incident had happened: the proverbial icing on the cake.
To be absolutely clear, you don’t expect anything from him that is not great sex (narcissist or not, he knows how to show you a good time and not having to breathe to live helps when you’re going down someone) and a bit of consideration.
“Oh, that.” He stands in front of you, impossibly tall, cutting off any escape route. “Would you like me to apologize publicly? Perhaps in front of the crowd tomorrow?” He mocks you.
And you fall for it: hook, line and sinker.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” You growl, invading his personal space, as if you’d ever pose a threat for him.
In a second you find yourself against the wall, arms stretched over your head, your work bag on the floor.
“What would you do, ma choue, how would you stop me?”
You’re so angry you’d kill him with your mind, if only you could!
Uselessly you try to kick him, squirming in his light hold, until he’s plastered against you with your legs around his trim hips.
“Let me go, now!”
That wins you a laugh, a low rumble against your chest: he knows that you know that he loves when you fight back, that your fascination with him doesn’t stop your fiery spirit to burn bright, like a light in the darkness.
“Why would I do such a thing?” His lips leave butterfly kisses all over your pulse point. “After scheming to have you here. That would be most stupid, wouldn’t it?”
Slowly, seductively, his hips grind against yours, his erection already pushing against your core, almost forcing a wail of need from your lips: even angry you missed the liquid need pooling in your belly as soon as your bodies are near, how his touch would ignite your desire and burn any reasoning to keep him away.
“I hate you so much!” And you both know is a lie.
“Then why can I smell how ready you are for me, ma petite?”
You let your head slam against the wall, baring your neck to his fangs, now tracing a path of goosebumps leading to your collarbone and heaving breasts.
You squirm against him, not trying to evade him, but because you need him desperately: you want to tear his clothes off his body and fuck your rage and pent up desire until you are both spent on the filthy carpet of the dressing room.
The words almost leave your mouth, when knocking on the door, followed by the voice of your fellow make up artist stops you, and him.
“Are you coming or not?” She asks from the corridor. “I need to shower! Come on!”
“I’m on my way!” You shout back, your desire retreating as your brain reminds you of the way he’s been treating you.
Lestat eyes you with a smirk on his lips; for a moment you think he’ll not let you go and blow your illicit relationship for the whole crew to see. His eyes seem to shine as he stares into yours, searching, searching as you wonder, again, what color they truly are.
“Saved by the bell.” He murmurs in your ear, letting your shaky legs off from around his hips. “Off you go, ma petite lapinou. You’re not going to be as lucky the next time.”
You’re still trembling as you grab your bag and rush to your friend, cursing yourself for being so weak in your resolve.
As per your contract you, and the other two make up artists, are supposed to share the hotel room to kill the costs for the whole production; the rest of the crew does the same, while the actual band members have rooms for their own, usually in a better hotel than the one chosen for you all.
The wandering life you have all chosen has changed those plans: in fact you have the hotel room all for yourself, since one colleague is in a committed relationship with one of the sound technicians (they always crash together), the other is in a situationship with a girl from Molloy’s crew; the relationship is even more toxic than whatever you have going on with Lestat, yet the two always bunk down together.
You don’t mind having all the space, and the bathroom for yourself: you love the quiet after a concert and before you are all on the road again.
You exit the bathroom, your skin still warm after the shower. You hear the TV on in the background, not giving it much attention: it’s just white noise to keep you company as you dry your hair and decide what to wear to go out with some colleagues.
“Now, what is this?”
You screech in surprise and almost slip on your ass.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why are you here?! I’m naked!”
Lestat looks at you from the armchair where he’s sitting, long legs encased in skin fitting leather and a white shirt half unbuttoned to showcase the hard planes of his chest you’re trying very hard not to ogle.
“You haven’t answered my question, ma petite lapinou.”
He’s holding your Taylor Swift pink T shirt, showing it to you with a frown on his brow.
Him and Taylor, better, the respective fan bases have this crusade going on, sniping at each other: the swifties being absolutely rabid whenever one of Lestat’s songs is higher in the charts or his tours sold out faster than hers. Taylor has published another remastering of her latest album and Lestat responded with new songs that beaten her to the top: it’s an ongoing messy feud and Lestat loves throwing jabs at her and her fans in his interviews. Thank God he has no control over his X and Instagram accounts.
All of this considered, you bought it before your fallout with him, as a prank: you thought about appearing in his hotel room clad only in that to see how he would react, and reap the benefits. You deciding to withdrew from the ‘relationship’ killed that idea; you have been using it to sleep.
“It’s a T shirt.” You answer.
“That I can see.” He says reigning in his annoyance at your pretend ignorance. “I have never pegged you as a fan of mademoiselle Swift.”
“With the things you don’t know about me, you could build a ladder from here to the moon.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping he’s not snooping in your mind right now.
He throws the T shirt in the general direction of the bed and spreads his legs even more, the outline of his bulge clear against the tight fitting leather.
“Going somewhere, ma petite?”
His voice is a low rumble that goes straight to your core.
“Yeah.” You feign indifference. “Out with some people, have fun. I have decided I’m going to play drunk trick or treat.”
He’s not wearing any makeup now, he looks like a carved marble statue come to life, yet you can see curiosity etched on his beautiful, alien features.
“I am not, comment tu le dis, privy to this particular brand of trick or treating.”
You tighten the towel around your head, you’re going to need it.
“It’s pretty simple, actually. I go out, get drunk and fuck the first person I meet. Having an orgasm, finally, is going to be my treat. It has been too long.”
In a heartbeat you find yourself slammed against the wall. You should be used to his inhuman speed, yet he’s managed to knock the breath out of your lungs again.
Your ears are ringing, the towel having done a poor job at shielding your head from a hard knock against the wall: one of these days you’ll get a concussion. How fucked up is it that you’re accepting your fate so calmly?
Your vision swims as your eyes try to focus on his face, now contorted in rage: Take that asshole, you think.
“Who would be the lucky candidate, ma petite?” He growls, his hand finding home around your throat. “Perhaps one of Molloy’s subordinates? Or one of the sad men drinking themselves in an early grave in the hotel lobby?”
“Anyone would do.” You spat back, despite the pressure of his hand. “You wouldn’t know how to find my clit with two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign pointing at it!”
For a second his hold is too tight, cutting off your air supply completely: is this how you die?
The thought flies out of your head when you find yourself on the bed, coughing and trying to absorb as much air as your poor lungs can manage, Lestat between your splayed legs: you have gotten to him, to his pride and possessiveness. Revenge tastes so sweet, knowing you can slither under his skin the same way he does with you.
“Ouch!” You whine when he strips you of the towels, uncaring of the cotton burning your skin.
“Two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign, is that what you said ma belle pute?”
You try to push him away, fruitlessly: he’s far too heavy and strong for you, even if he were a human man, yet you trash under him and try to go for his eyes, like a cat, until two of his long fingers pinch your clit cruelly.
You cry out in pain, arching under him in the vain attempt to escape your punishment.
“I hate you so fucking much! I wish I could put a stake through your heart and see you die!”
He doesn’t move for a second; he truly seems a marble statue, Bernini’s masterpiece, betrayed by the shining of his eyes.
You scream when his fangs pierce the delicate skin of your neck, and his cock slams into you.
The pleasure is a wave that engulfs you and your senses. You don’t know where you are, who you are, you’re only feeling his heart beating to the rhythm of yours as his hips meet yours, again and again, fast and hungry in the desperate pursuit of his own end.
You can’t plant your feet on the mattress, too taken by the impossible high you’re experiencing, all of your senses drunk on him and on the pleasure burning through you, the tight band in your belly snapping, forcing another scream from your lips.
You whine when his fangs leave your neck.
Through the roaring of your own blood in your ears, you can ear his moans of pleasure when the pain of your nails in his back finally register in his brain. Through hooded eyes you look at his beautiful face, now marred by the red of your blood, his pupils so enlarged you can’t see the color of the iris.
He’s still hard inside of you, not pounding away anymore his hips have taken a sensual, slow rhythm, meant to savor the warmth your body provides.
He kisses you when you try to say his name, your taste, metallic and heady in your mouth, pushes you into a frenzy he doesn’t let you follow, forcing you to go slow and feel the way he owns your body.
You arch your spine when he starts kissing your neck and chest, unhurried and possessive, his cockhead finding your G spot to bully it again, to feel your walls clamp again around his erection, too slow to throw you into the throes of another orgasm but enough to keep you on the razor’s edge, your moans and keens music to his ears.
You buck under his weight when his skilled fingers find your center again, massaging your bud with slow, deliberate motions.
“Two hands.” He groans after a vicious push. “A flashlight and a neon sign, n'est-ce pas? Then why are you moaning, ma belle?”
You grab his arms, needy and desperate for the end he’s denying you, embarrassed by the squelching sounds your cunt makes around his cock.
“Anyone would do.” He spats in your face, pinching your clit cruelly, to enjoy your whines of pain and how your body squirms under his.
You want to beg for mercy, scream how sorry you are but his devious fingers have rendered you speechless and thoughtless, mad for an orgasm he’s denying you with a cruel smile.
His forehead meets yours, now that the pace is slow. He’s switched to French without truly realizing what he’s doing, too lost in feeling your muscles clench and massage his cock: he’s missed your body, something you must never know.
His tongue finds the bites on your neck, licking lazily at the blood still spilling as his hips pick up the pace again, grinding cruelly against your puffy clit, drunken words of appreciation fall from his lips when your cunt wounds so tightly around his cock, forcing him in deeper and deeper, the fullness blanking your mind to his words and to the world around you.
You shatter like crystal again, forcing him over the edge as well, your combined screams of pleasure reverberating against the cheap walls, his breaking the table lamp on the desk.
Your cunt milks him of all he can give and robs him of his strength; it’s a miracle he manages to pull out and fall by your side, unfocused eyes trained on the chipped ceiling.
You hear him stretch luxuriously next to you as you try to find the strength to go to the bathroom and deal with the mess of blood and semen he’s left on your body.
Your legs wobble when you stand and the room spins as you bend to retrieve your Taylor Swift T shirt fallen on the floor, after your ‘activities’; you hear him say something in French, his voice a low purr and you can feel his eyes trained on your naked arse.
“Shall I remind you I have taken Spanish in high school?” You say, wobbling to the bathroom as you feel his come slide down your legs, ignoring how he grabs his shirt to wipe the excess of blood on his face.
When you come back he’s still laying in bed, smoking, arms spread on the headboard as if he owns the place.
“This place is horrible.” He says, as if you had chosen it yourself. “Sincèrement affreux."
“Your tour manager picks the place for us, which means that you did.” You retort, sliding in bed to put your head on his naked shoulder. “This one isn’t so bad. The clown themed one was worse.”
“Clown themed?”
He wants to know more, but you’re already asleep, out like a light; he can hear the whooshing of your blood through your veins, now that your heartbeat has calmed into your usual tattoo.
Without waking you up, he kills his smoke and tries to make himself comfortable on the lumpy mattress: perhaps that’s why you have been in such a bad mood lately. He will look into it as soon as he wakes up from his slumber: he’s going to be famished and his tour managed looks delicious.
#lestat de lioncourt x reader#lestat de lioncourt x y/n#lestat x reader#lestat de lioncourt#amc iwtv#iwtv#interview with the vampire#amc interview with the vampire
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[10:35 am]
haechan's apartment was a mess. empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, clothes were strewn across the floor, and the air was thick with the scent of stale beer. he hadn’t expected any visitors, let alone you.
he had spent the morning trying to shake off the anxiety from his late-night confession, his mind replaying every word he had said to you. he was expecting a phone call, dreading and hoping for it all at once. when a knock echoed through the cluttered apartment, his heart leaped into his throat.
he stumbled to the door, tripping over a pair of sneakers on his way. swinging it open, he was met with the sight of you standing there, looking as unsure as he felt.
“i—” you started, then faltered, your rehearsed words suddenly elusive. “i said i’d call, but i thought... maybe we should talk in person.”
he stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. “uh, yeah, yeah. come in. sorry about the mess.”
you walked into his apartment, glancing around. it was a mess–but it was so very haechan. he looked at you, clearly embarrassed, scratching the back of his head and blushing furiously.
“i, um, wasn’t expecting company,” he admitted, trying to tidy up a bit.
“n-no, it’s okay, i didn’t give you a warning…” you were just as shy as him right now. “i think i’ve seen worse anyway.” you giggle, easing the tension a bit.
“can i get you something?” he asked, his voice awkward and hesitant. “water, coffee?”
you shook your head, mumbling a soft ‘no thanks’, as you took a seat on the couch.
haechan sat down across from you, the silence between you heavy. you took a deep breath, finally getting to the point, “i thought about what you said last night.”
he perks up in his seat a bit, eyes flickering with hope, “y-yeah?”
“i… i want to make it clear first, we can’t just—forget any of it happened,” he deflates, “the hookups, the dates that weren’t dates, our fights too.”
“r-right…” he hopes you can’t see that he’s about to cry again.
“but, we were friends before all of that. you were my best friend… a-and i don’t want to lose that either.”
“i don’t want to lose you either i–” he sighs, frustrated with himself, “i let things get so far out of hand, i won’t ever stop making it up to you for as long as you let me, y/n.”
your cheeks tinge with a blush at his words, “yeah you were stupid,” he genuinely laughs at this, “but i probably shouldn’t have agreed to your ‘proposal’ the first time it happened, i told myself it would be a one time thing, but then one turned into two, and two turned into three years. i agreed because i trusted you, because i liked you.”
haechan’s eyes widen, “liked?”
“well—i still do, i mean why else would we be here, but that’s besides the point!” you quickly try to avert the topic from your silly schoolgirl crush.
“if you’re serious about me, as you say, i can forgive you. if we start over.”
“start over?” seriously, how dense can he be.
“no more hookups, hyuck.” you deadpanned
“oh! right, of course, so… you mean, we can go out on a real date, for real?” you’d laugh at how endearing it sounded if he wasn’t so serious.
some things don’t change.
“well—no.”
“oh.”
“i wanna just… go back to being friends—for now.” you stated softly.
“yeah… yeah that makes sense.” he looks like a kicked puppy, you could almost laugh.
“it’s not forever, hyuck,” a breathy laugh leaves your lips, “just until things are back to normal, when we– heal? i guess, from what happened these past few weeks.”
he nods, “so… just friends?”
“just friends.”
haechan looks visibly relieved, content with the current status of your relationship with him, he wouldn’t mind you keeping him at arms length, so long as you were keeping him at all.
“so... can you tell renjun to unblock me on twitter now?”
sigh.
previous - next
a/n ; APOLOGIES FOR THE LATE UPDATE💔,, i was unfortunately busy yesterday and couldnt stay locked up in my room 😔 and writing a “reconciliation” type of scene was so much more difficult than the angst… like this was a genuine challenge for me… BUT… only one more chapter after this…😰 im thinking of all the little bonus text chapters and silly blurbs i can make but only if u guys would wanna see those so lmk!! ik this isnt the best, i feel like i am better suited for angst, but lmk what u think! advice is always appreciated! xoxo jelly
#jelly writes#nct angst#nct dream#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#lee haechan#haechan x reader#haechan drabbles#haechan fluff#haechan imagines#nct haechan#haechan angst#haechan#nct drabbles#nct fic#nct fanfic#nct imagines#nct 127#nct fluff#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 angst#nct 127 fluff#lee donghyuck#nct dream headcanons#nct dream drabbles#nct dream fanfic#haechoxo
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YOU WILL WRITE THIS
SO IMAGING ABT how your a 9th skz member (who always wears baggy street wear or just the really cutsie member who does aegyo and isnt rlly sexual and lit has never showed any skin )and you all go boxing for fun - you decide to wear a baggy white shirt and a white bra under it and once you arrive to the gym your acc really good at boxing like your sweatiinggg and its showing your skin and clinging onto u - thowing jabs at minho like your life DEPENDS ON IT!! the members admire you from the side of the ring with a good view; after that tiring session you or your member dump water on you to quench your thirst but end up dumping wayy more than intended which causes you all to laugh but iykyk white clothes + water = see through jit going thru your shirt and kinda your bra so the members are just staring at your bare boobs (you can also write the baddie moment where you take off your shirt bc your agitated at it clinging onto ur skin)
i’m such a sucker for 9th member fics
Masterlist
warning: gn!reader, 9th member, suggestive
next: two
☆゚
“That’s it, Y/N’ie! Now I can actually feel your punches. Put a little more weight behind it.”
Minho had you dancing around the elevated boxing ring like it was rehearsed. Your couldn’t feel your hands or arms anymore from how long you’d been chasing him in circles to hit the padded target he always held just a little out of reach. Honestly, sports weren’t really your thing, dancing was the only thing you truly tried to do well in front of and behind the cameras. You had no idea what possessed you to tag along with Minho to his boxing session.
The news of your outing traveled fast within the group and before you knew it, everyone was piling into the two cars together. Minho and Chan had been giving you pointers the whole car ride and even tried to show you how to wrap the bandage around your wrist for support until you shooed them away and told them to stop hovering.
Felix was giggling watching the whole preparation take place, only when he said your full name did you realize he was narrating with a mini vlogging camera pointed your way.
Maybe promotions and practices and life in general were starting to take an emotional toll on you, every ounce of your frustrations from the week you took it out on Minho.
You couldn’t feel your feet now, too. The numbness let you move a little faster, only able to feel the sweat dripping down your temple and chest. As you picked up the pace and threw your punches harder, Minho stumbled slightly from the sudden burst of energy. You couldn’t hear the other members whooping and cheering your name, all focus pinpointed on the black target.
Harder, quicker, more than enough weight behind the punches that forced Minho to misstep and trip into the rope. The others rushed to hold their hands out in case he slipped through them, while also torn between being in awe or laughing at the older boy literally falling for you.
You tried to catch your breath and aggravatedly unwrapped the boxing glove from your hand as Minho stood and looked at you with surprise.
“Was that enough weight?!” You huffed, throwing the glove at him with almost no power now that you expended most of it trying to hit the target.
Giggling from the side of the ring made your head snap in its direction, “you want some, too, Kim Seungmin? I’ll come down there and—“
Just as you were about to throw the other glove at him, Changbin stepped into the ring and stole it from you, physically picking you up and waltzing you backwards with your rubbery limbs not putting up much of a fight. “You can beat him up later. Drink water first, you sweat like a fucking fountain.”
“Y/N’ie!” Felix and Hyunjin ran around to help you out of the ring, water bottles at the ready. You let Hyunjin tip your chin up and place the open bottle to your lips, it was gone in under a minute. “Slow down, you’ll drown,” he chuckled.
“Lix, you’re staring again,” Changbin threw his hand over his eyes until he realized what the younger was ogling.
The baggy white shirt you’d worn was completely soaked and sticking to your body like a second skin, showing through the sports bra that kept you safe. You were never one to show much skin at all, but right now, you didn’t have the energy to care. In fact, it was suddenly feeling suffocating. When you started to strip away the drenched shirt was when the rest of the members made their way over to you, all with mouths dropped slightly at the view of their adorable member suddenly shining in a new light.
“Hyung, maybe you should get Y/N’ie mad more often,” Jeongin whispered to Minho, who had a stupidly smug smirk on his face.
“I’ll take—“ huff, “—every one—“ puff, “of you fuc—“
“Hey now! No swearing in my vlog!” Felix rushed to stop you mid sentence.
“But they’re cute when they’re mad! Look,” Jisung pinched your cheek lightly and you frowned, raising your fist, “oh, so scary!” He feigned fright and stepped back with his hands up in surrender.
“You looked really cool, though. Who knew you could actually do physical activity!” Seungmin patted you on the back a little too harshly and you slumped forward with a wince.
“I hate all of you.”
“You love us!” Chan rung out your wet shirt and all of you stopped to watch how much of it was squeezed onto the floor. “That’s disgusting.”
Felix laughed menacingly and turned the camera towards himself, “I think Y/N’ie needs a shower.”
The eight of them made eye contact and smiled deviously. You spotted the bottles of water they each had and moved a second too late. Minho grabbed you by the waist before you could run, and suddenly you were being blinded by water running down your face and getting covered from head to toe. Minho was nice enough to wipe your strayed hair from your eyes so you could see the glee in your member’s eyes as if they’d accomplished an important task.
“Are you cooled off now?” Minho asked, peaking over your shoulder and brushing more hair from your cheek.
“Ice cold.”
“Oh, they’re definitely mad at us!” Felix kept laughing along with Hyunjin and Jisung.
“You all owe me one meal each. Dessert included.”
“I’ll even throw in a dry towel.” Chan handed you a itty bitty hand towel that you snatched away.
You patted down your exposed skin starting with your arms, your face, and when you got to your neck and chest was when you realized they’d all gone quiet. “Have none of you seen a chest before?! Virgins, all of you.”
None of them moved, unabashedly and unashamed that they were still staring.
“It’s just—“ Hyunjin said softly and pointed at your chest again. You looked down to see your nipples hard, and you lost any patience you had left.
There was almost no force behind your fists slamming into his chest, but Hyunjin cowered away and pretended to be hurt just for sympathy’s sake. Minho cheered you on while Chan was pulling out a spare shirt from his gym bag, sneakily slipping it onto you as your adrenaline drained back down to zero.
“Two. Meals. Each. And I’ll be keeping track.” You breathed heavily, finally giving up on being upset.
“Dessert included,” they repeated back.
When you’d finally calmed down, Felix threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you in close, “how was your first time boxing with Minho hyung? Care to share with sunshine vlog?”
“Next time, it’ll be you and me in that ring, Lixie.” You cheerfully threaded with a tap of your finger to the tip of his nose and smiled.
The seven of them trailed behind you as you leaned on Felix for some support. Not even an ounce of annoyance left in you, the sleep was wanting to take over before you could make it to the car. You climbed into the back seat and made yourself comfortable before the rest of them could file in, careful not to raise their voices too loud. You could tell it was Changbin next to you just by the smell of his cologne, still strongly lasting after a decent work out.
Entirely passed out, you didn’t get to hear Felix end his vlog with, “look how cute they are, already asleep. Stay, shhh, don’t tell Y/N’ie that Minho hyung only tripped cus his shoe was untied. See you next time!”
-
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut
#stray kids#stray kids fluff#stray kids ot8#skz#skz fluff#skz ot8#stray kids 9th member#skz 9th member#stray kids smut#stray kids angst#skz smut#skz angst#stray kids fanfic#stray kids head cannon#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#skz headcannons#skz imagine#skz imagines#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids x yn#stray kids x you#skz x yn#skz x you#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids x gender neutral reader#skz x gn reader
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How the iudex sleeps
Unexpectedly enough Fontaine started wondering how the great judge is productive enough to do all his work and some bizarre ideas start pooping up until the iudex himself says his 'secrets'
Read also: otters sleep holding hands and with their babies on their bellies and I found that incredibly sweet
WC: 1,3K
Cw: gn reader, you both have a baby but it isn't specified if he is biologically related or adopted
‘The chief of justice is a busy person’ is a known fact amongst the citizens of Fontaine, who see him working through many cases plus uncountable quantities of paperwork. That led to a question for some people ‘how does he get enough energy for the day’ at first the common guess was coffee but they were told off by an angry melusine.
“Huff! As if monsieur Neuville would ever drink such things! Only weird humans can drink something that bitter”
That quickly shut down that possibility and led them back to the board of ideas. About that time reporters started to notice how many people seemed interested in maximizing their energy and being awake for longer, while they aren't life changing or particularly interesting sections, some weeks are remarkably unremarkable and anything is better than nothing.
Now every week there would be a few merchants promoting tonics, pallets and pills that enhance energy, even when they would find ways to waltz around trying to mention the judge in their advertisements.
‘Lawfully energetic’
‘as fierce as a dragon’
‘enough to stand 100 trials’
Even if the last one was almost enough for the mermonia palace to get involved for using Neuvillette's name it was vague enough that it got off the hook.
Usually Furina’s crew would be able to rehearse two scenes before tea time but for some reason it was already 2 pm and they were still rehearsing the beginning of the play.
“ I'm sorry, Ms. Furina, I just can't connect two ideas together today” the female lead says as she grabs her head, sighing deeply. Furina touches her back and before she can ask about it someone shares a thought to the air.
“ Oh! Have you tried nilotpala lotus tea? It seems to stimulate the nervous system and clear up brain fog. Maybe the iudex uses that” the man who was supposed to be practicing the piano to match the scene says with a slight poison over his words.
“ Isn't brain fog rich coming from you?” Furina yaps at him “ your tempo was off the whole day” as she looks over his shoulder and rather than seeing a music sheet she finds the newest issue of steambird “what are you even reading? Focus on the piano! We have a show next week!”
She quickly grabs the paper and starts reading the small column with advertisements and tricks, huffing at the idea “stop reading those newspapers and keep rehearsing! The magic fix you are looking for is simply a good night sleeps, like the iudex you are stalking for an answer” she sighs loudly before looking at her crew.
“Is that all?”
“Simply a good night's sleep. What else were you expecting? An extract with 10 times more caffeine than a cup or liyue acupuncture?” She looks at her crew and finds some of them nodding and others seemingly disappointed “now, a break or can we start from the top?”
Unsurprising enough, very few people believed what she claimed, most likely wishing for a strange concoction that can make up for bad habits. Even then a few girls believed it to be rational enough of an answer, seemingly even one of them must have said furina knew his whole nighttime routine causing a hoard of reporters to crowd her door asking senseless questions.
‘Does he use sleep mists?’
‘What kind of fabric are his sheets?”
‘What does he eat before bed? Does he drink water?’
After being stalked everywhere from her home to the supermarket or the café she started dressing up in disguise to escape, luckily a few days after she noticed the quantity of reporters went down and only one came knocking on her door asking about the rescheduling of her play.
“ Oh, yes, we had to reschedule as there was an ‘important trial’ that had to be dealt with urgently. A representative of the palais mermonia apologized for the inconveniences but in the end the most important thing is justice!” furina says with her characteristic theatrical flare. Now looking at the reporter scribbling things on his notebook she adds a bit “the new date will be in two weeks, if someone presents the special meet and greet tickets with the old date they will still be valid”
As he finishes writing he goes off to write the article “thanks miss!”
Now standing on the doorway to the rehearsal room, Furina was expecting the usual sleepy greetings or the usual chitchatter or gossiping but, unusually enough, the whole room was silent and her whole crew was hunched over a spot, their backs facing her.
Clearing her throat she greets them first but they still don't react “ morning? Guys? Are you all okay?” she rounds them trying to get their attention until one of them catches sight of her.
“Director! Look! Monsieur Neuvillette told his secret to the newspapers!” He grabs the yellow paper and holds it to her face, a big bold font meeting her eyes.
CASE MELUSINE AND OTHER QUESTIONS WITH THE IUDEX: PAST CASES TO HIS GREATEST SECRET
‘Greatest secret?’ Furina thinks for a second ‘did he already publicly state to be the hydro dragon? Doesn't seem like it’ but she quickly smiles at her co actor “So? What is his secret?”
But all her crew look at her with a questioning glare “ what we have been wondering all this time? Who would have guessed our director was right!”
“What is that even supposed to mean?!”
Charlotte looks at the pages full questions she prepared for her so desired meeting, who knew that after so long wishing for it she would truly get a chance to interview the iudex, even if half the questions she prepared couldn't be answered for privacy or because the cases weren't closed she got enough material to fill a good pair of pages. Even then she couldn't lose this opportunity and started asking the ‘dumber’ or sillier questions
Looming over one particular line she wonders, would the judge consider it rude for her to ask that given he was giving her his important time but she simply swallows and asks
“How are you able to work through so much work?”
“My apologies?” Neuvillette furrows his brows and looks confused “I don't think I quite understand what you mean”
Charlotte breathes in deeply before elaborating “People have been wondering how you have enough energy to do all the work you are able to do”
Neuvillette stays silent for a second with his eyes closed
“It's known the iudex doesn't talk about his private life, so if you don't want to answer-”
“ It's not that” Neuvillette reassures her calmly “it wasn't a question I was expecting, that is all” he crosses his legs and details as Charlotte writes
But regardless of how many tries we have thrown to the ceiling we all were wrong, the way our judge is able to power through the day is simple actually, a comfortable bed and his beloved family. Even if he refused to expand on information about his family he did speak more about his routine.
“I'm unsure why people care so much suddenly but it's very simple, really, I always sleep with my lover in bed and keep our child on my chest” even as Charlotte choked on her own spit at a sudden juicy revelation neuvillette barely glanced over the rim of his goblet “we are also rather particular about bedding, but for now we settled on silk flower sheets made I'm liyue”
As he drinks water a small smile creeps up his lips, remembering that very morning vividly, his fingers firmly entangled with yours, almost as if he fears you would leave and meet a cold spot when he wakes up, even when you are practically hugging his side. Or your young baby peeking his head out of his father's sleeping shirt and feeling the soft beating of his heart with a pleased face.
Hm, he is sure that is why he always wakes up with enough energy to power through his duties .
Opening his eyes he finds Charlotte with small tears on her lashes and muttering ‘how sweet’.
“ So about your son…?”
“No”
“Understood”
#genshin impact#gi#neuvillette x reader#neuvillete x reader#neuvillete#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#the blue text was supposed to be tte newspaper#hshshs just in case it didn't translate that way#neuvillette otter
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