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#and the fact that I listened to it now and it immediately just hit me with the ed thoughts
justwonder113 · 3 days
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Maknae Part of this lovely ask
Hyung line Here
Masterlist
Warnings: I don't think there's any, but if I missed please tell me. Not proofread. Jisung is having twins other than that nothing is specified.
A/N - I hope you like it, please share your thoughts and reblog. I really love hearing your thoughts. If you have any requests feel free to request. Love you all, please take care of yourselves ❤️❤️❤️
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Han Jisung
You couldn't wait to tell Jisung the news. You just knew that he would lose his mind. You two had been trying for a baby for a while now, and you've noticed some changes recently. But you were misled like that earlier with symptoms, so you wanted to make sure that you were actually pregnant. And after taking countless pregnancy tests this morning after Jisung left for work, you headed to the doctor. And he gave you the most wonderful news ever.
You couldn't help but giggle as you walked into the JYP building. Of course, the only thing that could be heard on the whole floor was the screams of your husband and his bandmates. The sound hit you like a wave once the elevator door opened. In fact, they were being so loud they didn't even hear you knock on the door. Thankfully Chan heard you knock and led you inside, welcoming you first with a warm hug. The boys quickly greeted you, well almost everyone, your husband along with Hyunjin and Minho was so distracted by debating that he didn't even notice you walk in. You quickly gave the snaks you had bought earlier to Chan to share with the boys and approached your husband. You couldn't help but roll your eyes once you realized what they were arguing about. Hyunjin and the homewrecker aka Minho kept arguing who was closest to Jisung and your husband, being the menace he is, was only putting gasoline on the fire, enjoying the chaos way too much. Han saw you immediately and quickly approached you and gave you the sweetest kiss ever. Minho and Hyunjin kept arguing and didn't even notice you. Han quickly explained that they were arguing who should be your baby's godfather because being an uncle wasn't enough. You were impressed Hyunjin was this ballsy towards Minho. Who kept grumbling from time to time that he would put Hyunjin in the airfryer and that would solve everything. Han admitted to them that you two were trying for a baby. You smiled at Han and gave him a kiss on the cheek, you motioned to him to listen to you well. You then approached Minho and Hyunjin and stopped them by putting your hand on their shoulders. (Yes you were in a dramatic mood like that.) "You don't need to fight about it. I have great news!" You turned to your Husband who looked at you with wide curiosity filled eyes. "I'm pregnant Ji, and we're going to have twins!" If you thought that they were being loud earlier, your eardrums almost burst from the collective cheers of the boys. As for your husband, he most definitely kind of fainted and was bought back by an awestruck Minho who quickly smacked him on the head to pull himself together. Han quickly regained himself and was all kver you in seconds. Littering your face with millions of kisses, showering you with all kinds of praices.
All of the boys were over the moon and kept congratulating you. Minho and Hyunjin stopped their silly little argument and now sat on each side of you talking to your belly all excited( and if you're wondering that shouldn't your husband be by your side especially now? Bold of you to assume that he even let you go, you were sat on his lap proudly and he kept showering you with affection). Boasting about how much of a cool uncles and godfathers they were going to be. Hyunjin kept talking about how he could teach the babies how to draw, Minho kept talking that he would let them play with his cats and he could teach them how to dance. At that Hyunjin also got visibly more excited. And now they kept talking about all the cool choreos they could teach the kids. Han kept listening with the most proud look in his eyes as he squeezed you closer to him, carefully, of course, but enough to show you just how much he loved you.
It was really sweet and you couldn't stop smiling. Seungmin, being the mance he is, did warn you that you should spare your kids from all the influence of all three of the paboracha members, and you couldn't help but laugh at that, much to the said trios dismay. But you know in the end everything was going to be just fine.
Lee Felix
It was a well-known fact that everyone and their mother adored Lee Felix. You also were one of the victims who fell to his deadly charms and sunshine persona. Of course, you were lucky enough (plenty, like be for real) to call him your husband, but anyways, you get the point. Now imagine what would happen if the said sunshine was soon going to be a father? If your answer is that everyone was going to lose their mind over it, then you're correct because that's exactly what happened. The boys were over the moon once they heard that you were pregnant. Of course they were shocked at first, it was kind of hard to imagine their sunshine baby as a father but they quickly aquitanced with the idea and now were more than excited to be the uncles.
Especially Chan. He was the most excited out of the boys. He loved everyone like they were his brothers but it was a known fact that his bond with Felix ran deeper than that. And now he was as exited as if his actual sibling was expecting a child. Felix was also on the same wavelength and as he didn't have any brothers he did view Chris as the uncle of his Child.
Chan tried his best to be as supportive and as helpful as possible. It was really endearing and cute. All of the boys were. But nothing could beat Chan's determination, especially not when he gave your little one the most precious gift ever. He wrote a little lullaby so you and felix could sing it to the kid every night. It was so beautiful too! Both you and Felix couldn't help but tear up. You two were on each side of him cuddling and hugging him as tight as possible while he smiled shyly saying that this was nothing and he would write many more songs for the kid to enjoy. He really was the most precious best uncle ever.
Kim Seungmin
Your sweet husband was so excited that you were going to have a baby soon. He could barely hold his excitement. It was really endearing. He was so sweet and gentle with you! He gave into your every wish and little craving. He basically carried you on top of his hand. He didn't even tease you that much. It was really cute to see him so eager. Also, you just loved how neat and organized he was. He wanted everything to be perfect for the kid and thought through everything.
You two were settling up the nursery for the kid. He ordered the prettiest set for the kid. He spent a whole month researching all the best products read every review and ect. You just love how excited he was. And you just loved every piece he had chosen. He basically did a presentation on each and every one of them.You gave your comments and your ideas and showerd him your pinterest board, and just like that, you ordered everything for the most perfect prettiest nursery ever.
But now, the dilemma was that you had to assemble everything. Which was a bit harder than you thought, especially since Seungmin barely let you do anything and told you to rest since you were almost 6 months pregnant. You were more than capable, but here was no point in arguing with him, so you gave in.
He sat like that for a while, trying to assemble confusing peaces together, but he gave up after a while. And decided to do something he rarely did. He asked for help.
Changbin was a bit confused, unused to Seungmin directly asking for help. But he was more than happy to help. He quickly got into things and in no time got the hang of it.
You decided to bring the snacks and drinks to the boys, not wanting them to overwork themselves. Seungmin was quietly working on the crib while Changbin helped him and softly sang the song he was working on. And that's when you felt it. "The baby kicked!" Both of the boys' heads snapped in your direction, and in seconds you were sat on the tiny sofa you had chosen for the nursery. Seugnmin and Changbin were on each side of you kneeled on the ground, watching you with eager eyes. Your husband had his hands on your belly and kept encouraging the baby to kick again, but nothing. You waited like this for a while. Both you and Seungmin encouraged and talked sweetly, but still nothing, then Seungmin had an idea. He looked unsure first but still decided to try it out. He turned to Changbin and asked him to sing the song again. Changbin looked confused for a second but quickly complied. And that's when you felt another kick. Seungmin looked like he was about to cry, feeling his child kick. Changbin was so shocked, too! He was over the moon. And he was so excited that the baby liked his voice he immediately started bragging that the baby liked him and that he was most definitely the child's favourite uncle. He kept happily singing the song to you. Of course promising to write many more songs for the litrle one to enjoy. Seungmin was a little bit petty that the baby kicked for Changbin's voice and not his, but he was more than happy that the baby was feeling good and healthy. Although he did promise himself to outshine Changbin and sing prettiest of songs to the baby.
IN
Everyone almost lost their minds then they they heard that their maknae, their babybread was going to be a father. And if you fought that they were protective of Innie they were 10 no 100 times worse for you. They never let you lift a finger whenever they were around and always basically spoiled you rotten as if Innie didn't do that already.
8 months into pregnancy went just like that, so smoothly and without much discomfort. You really couldn't wait before you could hold your little one in your hands.
The little one must have been eager to see the world too because they were always so active. They always kicked around and wiggled for many things, but their favourite seemed to be Seungmin's voice. You discovered it randomly, Seungmin was visiting you and Innie. It was a peaceful day. Your baby was also really calm that day. It was quiet until Seungmin broke the silence by humming some song that was on his mind. And once the kiddo caught the voice they almost went crazy in your womb. Both you and Innie were shocked, but the kid really seemed to love Seungmin's voice. And since that, whenever he was around, Seungmin always hummed different songs to you. Not only did it soothe the baby, but you also really enjoyed it. Even now, as you listened to Seungmin humm some lullaby, you felt so content and peaceful, your eyes were starting to droop. The little one was too active these days and barely let you sleep. Seungmin's voice was like a balm to your mind and soul. You couldn't help but relax more and more as you put your heas on his shoulder as he kept humming.
Jeongin couldn't help but smile as he layed a blanket on your sleeping form. He also couldn't help but give a glare to Seungmin who looked so smug. It was like he grew 10 times more he was so smug and proud that the little one was enjoying his voice so much. He even teased Innie that the baby might like him more than him. There were definitely more than one bickering sessions between your husband and Seungmin about this. There was simply no point to talk about ongoing stray kids wars who was going to be the little one's favourite uncle because Seungmin was an absolute menace about the favouritism your kid showed towards him. It was like everyone tried 10 times more to be the baby's favourite. It was a little bit too much, but hey, as long as the kid was peaceful.
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dunmeshi-darlings · 3 days
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omg yippee.
can I ask for you trying to wake Laios up after he falls asleep ontop of you? after like a long day of fighting shit. or something in that vein. he has big dog energy so I feel like its something he would do
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(anon i had to use this gif for it, it was to good to pass up lol)
Nobody has ever claimed that adventuring in the dungeon would be easy work, in fact its notorious for being extremely difficult the further and further down you go
So you can imagine after a particularly grueling fight against a monster, that after everyone has eaten they would all be beyond exhausted. So its safe to say that its immediately bed time after senshi finishes up cleaning and everything.
However to your surprise, Laios doesn't head to his sleeping bag and instead heads to you with yours. When you ask him why he responds "after the last fight it looks like my bag got damaged...plus yours is way comfier." he would say with a slight blush. And looking over at his bag you see it fully rolled out and several noticeable large gouges and burn marks on it, seems he wasnt kidding.
You sigh and say that its ok, motioning for him to lay down. You thank yourself for deciding to get the EXTRA large sleeping bag since you often roll around in your sleep. He smiles excitedly and thanks you and takes the leftover pillows and blanket he has and lays down beside you, of course even then you two are still laying next to each other and basically laying side by side.
You cant help but notice just how warm he is, You can feel the heat radiating off of his body and sure you are phsyically touching but even then you note just how warm his body is next to and laying beside you. Of course with how tired you as well as everyone else is, you dont think about this too long before immediately falling asleep.
You have some nightmares about being crushed by a trap in your sleep, however the cause of said nightmares is quickly apparent when you finally wake up and realize that laios is no longer laying next to you....no now he is currently laying on top of you, his large frame draped across your chest and stomach as he he snores happily, an obvious drool stain at the corner of his mouth.
You cant help but chuckle softly, its no wonder laios was sleeping so peacefully. He saved everyones hides during the fight and took some nasty hits, so he definitely has earned his rest...However as you try to slowly move him you realize something very quickly....Laios is VERY heavy.
You hadnt really thought about it at first, But laios Armor is made of incredibly durable (and heavy) plate and with how easily he is able to move around in it as well as carry his sword, Laios has built up quiet a bit of muscle on himself. Add this together with his already impressive height and you have a man who is heavy with more muscle than most people realize.
You regret not listening to namari's advice in regards to building up some muscle mass for yourself as you try to move laios off yourself gently, as adorable as he is sleeping you really need him to move and you dont want to shout to wake him up cause you would feel bad. You struggle, quietly grunting as you try to wiggle out from under him, stopping whenever his snoring stops, only to return to your fruitless wiggling.
While laios doesnt wake up, your wiggling and quiet grunting drew Chilchucks attention once he finally woke. He tiredly looked over at you as you simply whispered "help me" to which he sighs and stands up, taking sleepy steps towards you and laios as he starts repeatedly smacking laios in the face. "hey laios! wake up your crushing Y/N"
After a few smacks laios's eyes groggily open as he rolls off you, yawning loudly and stretching before looking down and realizing he was laying on top of you. He blushes and rubs the back of his head, saying he was sorry. "sorry, so used to sleeping with my dogs where we would all just lay on top of each other and fall asleep, my bad."
Now that you are free from your meaty blond haired prison, you cant help but laugh at the situation, this was definitely something everyone will be able to make jokes about from here on out.
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tiltedtilde · 2 months
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Play trxye or blue neighborhood (deluxe) and watch how quickly I start dancing and singing and jumping and shouting but not before I start violently shaking from holding back horrible, horrible sobs.
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mrsbarnesblog · 3 months
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for you
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.
Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘
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Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day. 
He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.
“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not. 
“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”
“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“
Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face. 
“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw. 
“I said that she looked fuckable.” 
It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face. 
Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie. 
Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place. 
You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today. 
You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation. 
“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly. 
“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles. 
“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in. 
Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart. 
Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him. 
Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body. 
“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt. 
“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.
“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”
“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”
“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer. 
“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office. 
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As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you. 
“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.
“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him. 
“Is that so?” She looked at you. 
“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.” 
“Liar.” 
“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.” 
“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!” 
“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.” 
“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange. 
“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room. 
“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk. 
“What did you want to talk about, professor?” 
“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love. 
“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded. 
“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”
“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 
“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long. 
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Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet. 
When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.
“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”
He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock. 
“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.
“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”
“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief. 
“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him. 
"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling. 
“I thought she hated me.” 
You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you. 
“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.” 
“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy. 
Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”
“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips. 
“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh. 
“Then I'll let you do it.” 
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liinos · 11 months
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one of these days i will relisten to an ode bc i haven't listened to it in full since it first came out and while i think some of their best songs are on that album i also consider it their worst as a whole 😭
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localspacefaggot · 1 month
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The feelings I have for Nex’s death have been cycling rapidly, or at least it feels that way, until I was finally able to identify that what I felt was grief. Grief so harsh that my jaw is clenching. Grief that I can’t share with my Cherokee mother due to her death. When things like this happened we often talked about it, comforted each other, because we always knew how easily it could have been us.
I understand her reaction to me coming out now. I understand that in her eyes it put me way more at risk, being Native American and queer. My father tries, but he’s white and, as far as he’s concerned, I’m pale enough that people don’t immediately jump to the conclusion that I’m poc.
But Nex was paler than me. And if it could happen to them, none of us are safe. A fact I understood but still hits me like a truck when it’s proven right time and again. This is why I keep telling people that mixed race people are just as at risk, no matter how much we may “pass”. We’re still not white. We’ll never be white.
And yes, I know it’s not just about race. I know it’s also because of their LGBT+ identity. But please listen, this is important:
Nex was a two-spirit Choctaw CHILD. Their native identity is just as important as their lgbt+ one.
Please talk about this. I’m not part of Nex’s tribe, being Cherokee, the second largest tribe in the United States. And even we are only a population of little over 200,000. The Choctaw are even smaller, with just a little over 80,000.
Do you understand? We’re dying. Please stop erasing our identities when you talk about us.
Please remember Nex was indigenous. REMEMBER they were Choctaw. Please don’t forget about us
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hazelfoureyes · 18 days
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The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖
You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.
{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}
MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.
You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.
The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.
Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”
You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?
“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  
You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.
Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.
You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 
His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.
Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.
You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.
“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 
“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.
Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.
The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.
“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”
You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.
“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”
You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”
Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?
He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.
He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?
”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.
Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.
His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 
“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”
He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 
“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”
Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.
There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.
“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.
You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”
Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.
Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?
“I never got to thank you.”
His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”
You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”
“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.
“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”
Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”
No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”
Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.
“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.
Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 
Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.
If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 
He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 
He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.
Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.
When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 
“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.
“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 
You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”
“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”
“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”
“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”
“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”
“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”
“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”
“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”
Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”
Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.
You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”
His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 
“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”
Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.
Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you
Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 
You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 
That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.
The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.
What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?
The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 
He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”
“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”
You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”
Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”
Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 
“Why are you working?”
“Why are you swimming?”
“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.
Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”
You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.
“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”
“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”
Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.
His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.
When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.
You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 
Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 
Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…
You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.
“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 
“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”
“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.
“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.
With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”
Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”
Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”
You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?
He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”
“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?
“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.
On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”
Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 
You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.
Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.
Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.
Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”
You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.
Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.
A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.
“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”
He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”
You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”
“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”
Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.
Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 
You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 
He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”
“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”
Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”
Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”
You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”
“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”
Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.
“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.
“Why would I do that?”
Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”
“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”
Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”
You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”
“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”
“Angel!”
“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”
“ANGEL.”
He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”
Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”
Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”
“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.
He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 
You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am
.
Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.
“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”
Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”
“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”
Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”
You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.
He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 
Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”
“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.
 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.
You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.
You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.
“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.
Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”
You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”
He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.
“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.
Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 
The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”
A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 
“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.
Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”
A hum, “He was a bad man.”
His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?
You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”
“Who says he was bad?”
Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”
His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 
A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”
“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.
“I wanted something more… personal.”
Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.
“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.
“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”
“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.
He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”
A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.
“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”
How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”
“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.
You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”
He wasn’t an idiot. 
Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 
Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 
You chose to come back. 
Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 
“My little doe.”
You came home.
His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.
Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 
And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.
He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.
Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.
With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.
You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.
With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 
“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 
He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 
One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1
🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,
@luna-usagi-chan
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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theysherobinbuckley · 10 months
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a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4
(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)
Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.
His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.
"Uh, what?"
"What are you doing hanging around Max?"
Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"
"So?"
"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"
"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."
"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"
Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.
"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."
Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.
"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"
Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.
"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."
Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.
"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."
Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.
"Did she?"
"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"
"No, I mean- did she have fun?"
Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"
Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.
"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.
Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.
"Unfortunately. What about him?"
"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."
"That's..."
"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."
"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."
"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."
Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.
Huh.
It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.
"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."
Harrington lit up at that.
"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."
"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."
"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.
Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.
Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?
"I see. Not into MILFs?"
Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.
"I'm more into brunettes."
And boy, didn't that seem pointed.
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brattysiren · 1 month
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when he gets a little jealous
pairing: Zayne/Mc, Rafayel/Mc, Xavier/Mc
Note: this is how I imagine it'd be like with them. I'm sorry if it's a little boring, I want to keep them in character :) also it's a very tiny reason to be jealous over but it happens to the best of us lol. Also thank you so much for all the love on my other two posts!! You're all amazing ahhhhhh! Muah xxx
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The sun is beginning to fall, allowing the previously blue skies to be gradually buried by the inevitable darkness. You finally have the chance to spend some quality time with your love interest. Your relationship hasn’t been established yet, but you’re confident it’s heading in the right direction where it will flourish.
Making yourself comfortable at his cozy apartment, you proceed to mention important and not-so-important details of your day. He’s listening intently, although exhausted from his own day. Whether it’s social or physical, it’s draining nonetheless.
— “Yeah and out of nowhere, I see a friend I haven’t seen in a good few years. He’s amazing, I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time. He’s so sweet and kind, honestly. Oh! Did I mention he went to- radah radah radah”
He stops listening.
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Zayne -
You wouldn’t have guessed but a strange feeling is pulling strings at his heart and his stomach feels ill. He’s ashamed of himself. Jealousy, is it? He always assumed he’s way above that disgusting green monster. It’s not something he’s familiar with. The doctor was always just fine on his own, used to being on his own, used to not caring this much about a human being.
Who is he? He must be amazing like you say he is. He trusts your judgement. Do you like him?
“Are you two close?” he asks monotonously, despite the fact you’ve told him that you’ve seen your friend for the first time in years. Perhaps it’s for Zayne’s own reassurance.
You shake your head, not thinking much of his question. “Not really. But I’d like to see him again sometime.”
Is he really that funny? Zayne ponders. He himself wouldn’t say he’s funny, he’s got more of a dry humour. His own jokes rarely deliver. He turns his attention to the movie that is uselessly playing in the background.
"I see." he pauses, nodding once in acknowledgement. "Are you planning to meet him again any time soon?"
His focus returns to you, awaiting your answer.
"I don't know. He's not from around here." you raise a questioning brow, noticing Zayne's own brows furrowing. It's only easy to notice because it's quite a change compared to his everyday straight facial expression.
He stops frowning and places his hand on top of your head for a good few seconds in a loving manner. "You should come to the hospital tomorrow. I'm working late."
"Huh? I don't think I have an appointment tomorrow, Zayne."
He sighs before leaning towards you. "I'm saying I want to see you more. We can eat dinner together."
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Rafayel -
There's an immediate scowl on his face and you quit talking before finishing your sentence. Rafayel crosses his arms, avoiding any kind of eye contact with you.
"What?" you wave your hand in an irritated way. What does he have an attitude over now?
"Why are you even talking about some guy? There's no way he's all that." he's muttering to himself.
The reason hits you, it couldn't have been anything else. It's Rafayel we're talking about. Although he's very confident with himself, he definitely has his weak moments. Sometimes you can't tell whether he's messing with you or if he's serious. He tends to hide how he truly feels behind a sassy demeanour.
"Jealous?" you lower your head, raising your eyebrows.
The artist shoots a glare your way as if you offended him. "I'm not jealous."
Holding back a smile is a challenge. You shrug your shoulders, making a face at him. "Right. Me when I lie."
"I am not lying, MC! I'm just making a point." he starts, flailing his arms dramatically, but speaks calmly throughout the whole interaction. "Do you even like me anymore?"
Confusion flashes upon your complexion and you watch him, squinting your eyes. "You already asked me that today and I said yes."
"Oh so you just like me. You don’t love me though?"
"Oh my god."
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Xavier -
"He?" the hunter utters mindlessly, not realising the bewilderment in your eyes. "You speak very highly of him."
There's an obvious grimace of disapproval presenting itself on his face. Xavier is not impressed and you can see it clearly. He searched for you for so long and the thought of losing you over and over again is breaking him. He doesn't want to appear controlling or anything as such. But he can't help how he feels.
"He's great, yeah." you agree with him, feeling some tension building up around you.
You carefully observe him, seemingly lost in thought for a mere few seconds.
"Are you interested in him romantically?" his question surprises you, since you've very clearly shown your interest in Xavier. But you're still unintentionally from his side -- receiving dirty looks.
"No, not at all."
The features on his face soften and he steps closer to you. You reach to fix the collar of his shirt and he seems somewhat relieved.
"I'm glad." he voices. "Him and I don't need to have a discussion then."
You roll your eyes playfully and he grins in response. He'd do anything to win you over.
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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The Us That Could Have Been
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader
Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!
W/C: 5.7k
Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.
Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.
A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.
Find the rest of my masterlist here.
If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet. 
Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down. 
“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body. 
“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once. 
“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-” 
“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you. 
“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long. 
“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words. 
“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?” 
“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-” 
“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.” 
–X–
A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right. 
Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.
The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step. 
If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care. 
The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one. 
It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed. 
Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion. 
You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you. 
“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day. 
“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his. 
You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out. 
Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.
“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home. 
“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now. 
The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust. 
The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys. 
“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk. 
“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance. 
“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock. 
“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”
“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.” 
“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.
“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?” 
“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away. 
He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember. 
–X– 
“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead. 
“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time. 
Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day. 
“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them. 
Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions. 
“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?” 
“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it. 
He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway. 
When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.” 
JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women. 
“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it. 
“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…” 
“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue. 
“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession. 
“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed. 
“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.” 
They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued. 
“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”
“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?” 
“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”
JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 
“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them. 
“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around. 
“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.” 
The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you. 
“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.  
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued. 
“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.  
“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her. 
“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out. 
“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in. 
“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word. 
“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.  
“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-” 
“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.  
“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”
“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?” 
“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve. 
“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added. 
“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly. 
“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?” 
They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them. 
“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.
“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.” 
“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.  
“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.  
“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.” 
“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things. 
“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.  
He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.  
You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess. 
“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.  
“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen. 
“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.  
“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly. 
“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came. 
You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left. 
“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.  
“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.” 
–X– 
The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?
Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning. 
“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”
Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.  
“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.  
“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?” 
He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.” 
“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.  
“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.” 
He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly. 
“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said. 
“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.” 
“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time. 
–X– 
You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him. 
You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions. 
“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider. 
It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.  
You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies. 
He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed. 
“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin. 
“I love you, please don’t cry.” 
“I love you, you’re so beautiful.” 
“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again. 
“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him. 
“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body. 
He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.  
“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again. 
“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another. 
Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time. 
“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again. 
He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes. 
“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied. 
“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively. 
“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly, 
“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question. 
“Why did you run away the other day?” 
“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”
“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far. 
“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself. 
“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.” 
“Y/N, please.” 
“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.” 
The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away. 
He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch. 
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atlabeth · 2 months
Text
all of me | luke castellan
pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader
a/n: sooooooo i know that i said i would work on something else but this hit me and suddenly i could not rest until i wrote something for it so you're getting headcanons since i can't formulate proper thoughts. some of this is dialogue but most of this is pure stream of consciousness. im already kind of obsessed w them ?
wc: 3.7k lollll this got away from me but it was so much fun.
warning(s): parental death, fighting, normal royal stuff. fluff, angst, all that good shit
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princess!reader and knight!luke
yeah
and they're childhood friends bc they grew up in the castle together
YEAH
luke is the son of a kingsguard and he wants to be just like his mom 
his father is out of the picture (booo) and his mom never really talks about him but she’s raised luke the best she can
shoutout to may castellan, she was the first female kingsguard! and definitely the first to personally guard the king 
you are the heir to the throne and the only thing you're sure of is that you want luke to be in your life
you basically spent all your time together because he was kinda the only one your parents would approve you hanging out with
most of the crownsguard don't have children and those that do have them live with their spouse outside of the palace, and your parents didn't want you spending time with the children of servants
and luke's mom is your father's closest friend because she's the king's personal knight and so everything’s basically already vetted and they don’t have to worry about you accidentally getting murdered by him 
so you and luke basically spend every moment of your free time together!! 
even when you’re not free tbh 
sometimes you beg your tutor to hold your lessons outside so that you can sneak glimpses at the knights training and luke training alongside them 
whenever he sees you, his face always instantly brightens and he will lose focus in whatever tf he’s doing because he’s only thinking about you now 
and instead of either of you doing what you’re supposed to do, you just spend the whole time making faces at each other and trying to grab the other’s attention 
after his mother tries (and fails) to get him back on track a million times and your tutor realizes that you’re never going to listen to her historical prattles they allow the two of you to talk for “FIVE MINUTES AND NO LONGER MY BOY” and your tutor is all “i ask that you do not delay our lessons any further, your highness” 
and tbf you and luke could notttttt care less. you immediately join up and you start teasing him about his form and how he was holding his sword and he just makes fun of you for having to be a princess
“Your form is horrendous, Luke! How do you expect to beat anyone holding a sword like that?” 
“At least I’ll be on the battlefield one day. You can bore our enemies to sleep with your recounts of Aureldan history.” 
“Oh, I bet I could beat you right now. I’ve got royal blood in my veins.” 
“And I’ve got knight’s blood in mine,” he says. “I’ve at least got a sword. That’s more than you have.”
You huff. “Mother says I have to learn propriety before I even think about picking up a weapon.” 
“Do you want to hold mine?” he asks immediately, his eyes lighting up as he offers it over. “It’s just wood because Mom doesn’t want me to hurt myself, but that means it’s safe for you.” 
you do. obviously. 
You’ve got soft hands, untouched by the world, and the sword feels foreign in their grasp as you realize this is in fact the first time you’ve ever held a weapon. You cut it through the air a few times and Luke is grinning wider than ever 
“I think the role of a warrior princess suits you,” he says.
“It is nice,” you muse as you turn it over in your hands, already growing used to the feeling of it. 
“And you look great with it,” he says. “Powerful.” 
“I’d give myself a splinter before I can do anything with it,” you retort as you hand it back to him. “It’s a nice thought, though.” 
His eyes light up. “You should train with us sometime. My mom is the best at teaching— she’d teach you everything you need to know!”
You glance back at your tutor, who is very clearly eavesdropping, and you sigh as you look back at Luke. “Maybe in a few months.” 
Luke’s mother calls his name and it’s obvious that your time is over. You hug each other and promise to meet up as soon as your responsibilities for the day are over, then go back to your respective duties. 
Your tutor takes you inside because she doesn’t want anymore distractions, and you wave at each other like crazy as you’re walking back into the castle.
so yeah. you’re best friends and you have been since you first met as children, and though it is a battle for your betters to keep you on task if you’re near each other, you just light up when you see each other and it actually helps 
You’re learning dining etiquette and if you get told that you’re using the wrong spoon again, you’re going to lose your mind. 
luke is hurrying through the halls to catch up with his mother and you both catch a glimpse of each other. 
your posture straightens, he stops in his tracks, and you both smile at each other. then luke’s mother calls his name again and he’s on his way again. 
spoons aren’t that bad, you think 
you’re mulling over history books in the library that make you want to fall asleep.
luke just happens to be walking past on the way to his chores, and when he spots you, he yells out your name and waves at you. you wave back, and you both stifle laughs as your tutor shushes you 
suddenly, you’re not feeling so down.
Luke is training on his own out in the yard before dinner and he’s about ready to break his sword over his knee because he can not get this damned move right. 
he hears your voice across the way and sees you, all dressed up and with your parents about to get into a carriage. you’re on your way to a ball, he remembers you telling him earlier, and he finds himself smiling. 
You had been complaining about it, and Luke had told you to just think of the two of you hanging out whenever you were bored. You said you were already planning on it.
His smile widens. He’d be thinking of you too, wondering what it would be like for him to attend with you. Dressed in the same gaudy outfits as the rest of the court, having to go through the same dull niceties that you’d been raised on, listening to stories from other royals he couldn’t care less about. 
Standing beside you as an equal. 
Luke’s young, but he already doesn’t care for nobles and their court. But he thinks he would wear any amount of uncomfortable suits and listen to any number of dull proposals for you. 
for the rest of the night, he trains better than he thinks he ever has. 
and of course, you break the rules together. GOD HELP YOUR CHARGES YOU ALWAYS BREAK THE RULES TOGETHER 
your tutor cannot count how many times you’ve slipped out of lessons and she’s found you in the halls talking with luke, him smiling brighter than she’s ever seen as he listens to you go on and on and on 
your mother cannot count all the times you’ve talked about what you and luke did that day instead of describing to her any of the history or arithmetic you were supposed to be learning 
May always keeps watch over her son, but she’s been known to turn a blind eye when Luke thinks he’s being sneaky to go off and see you. 
and of course, sometimes you actually hang out when you’re allowed to hang out lol 
you’ve run around every bit of the palace grounds together, you ride horses together (with parental supervision of course), and once you’re a bit older, you’re actually allowed to practice with luke and the rest of the knights! 
typically, it’s a shorter session with May teaching the two of you, and typically, it ends with both of you ready to die because you’re just kids and even though Luke is a prodigy, you are sooooo bad at swordfighting. it’s honestly not even funny how bad you are at it the first couple of lessons 
But May just pats you on the shoulder and promises to work with you until you’re as good as her. 
(luke pouts and says he wants to be better than you. you forget that you’re holding a sword and just start complaining at each other) 
(“you CAN’T be better than me luke I’m the princess”) (“YES I CAN MY MOM’S THE GREATEST KNIGHT EVER”) (“SHE PROTECTS MY DAD WHICH MEANS I CAN BE THE BEST EVER”) (“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE”) (“YES IT DOES”) (“NO IT DOESN’T”) (“I’M YOUR PRINCESS YES IT DOES”) 
(the lesson ends when May has to pry you two apart) 
but we haven’t gotten to the knight part. 
because it’s a bit sad. 
what happens to may in pjo canon is awful but 
May Castellan dies when you and Luke are sixteen. A month after your birthday, in fact. Four months after Luke’s. 
(he’s always held those three months over you, especially as you get older.) 
(it doesn’t seem to matter as much now.)  
rumor has it throughout the kingdom that she slowly went insane and then fully lost it, ultimately dying in an attack against the king during a ball that turned out to be a set-up. 
the only one who knows what really happened that night is your father as he was the only other person there at her death that still lives, but he refuses to talk about it, only saying that “Head of the Kingsguard May Castellan died a hero and shall be remembered as such”. 
Luke… does not take it well 
besides the king, he obviously spent the most time with his mother and it was obvious to anyone that she loved him with all her heart and wanted him to follow whatever dreams he may have had 
she’s given a knight’s funeral and you are beside Luke the entire time, holding his hand or him leaning against you as you listen to eulogies or even just sitting next to each other because your presence is enough for him. it doesn’t matter what—you’re always connected in some way, and no one says a single thing. 
he needs you, and you need him. it’s as simple as that. and no one dares to correct the princess when she’s icier than they’ve ever seen her.
You put on that front to protect Luke—you don’t want anyone bothering him, and you don’t want him to have to worry about you at a time like this. 
Because you know he would. He always does. 
When Luke gives his speech, barely able to hold back tears, he looks at you the entire time. he doesn’t tell you, but you’re the only reason he’s able to get through the day. 
Luke becomes a ward of the royal family. 
There’s no chance you’re letting him leave, and Luke doesn’t want to go either. The memories of his mother all around are painful, but he takes some small comfort that she’ll live on in Aurelda forever. 
Your parents have no objection to it—he grew up in the palace anyways, and he can practically provide for himself. You wouldn’t have let them say no. 
You’re thankful beyond words that Luke is still here. Because everything feels like a mess, and things are a little more manageable with him by your side. 
Someone tried to kill your father. They killed Luke’s mother instead. Both of you are broken in different ways.
Obviously, this sparks the beginnings of war both in Aurelda and in Luke’s entire being. 
but that’s a topic for another day. 
May’s death changes your relationship. 
She was his mother, obviously, but you were close to her as well. you could never forget every time she ruffled your hair and complimented your sword fighting, or every time she would acknowledge you in the midst of a crowd with a smile and a nod, or every time she would act like a mother and not a knight. 
she had the best hugs in the entire kingdom. 
But her death changes your relationship because Luke changes. 
He’s angrier. His edges have all sharpened, honed by his own spirit. He softens when he’s around you, but to the outside eye he’s impenetrable. He thinks you’re the only one that understands him. 
Others pity him, fear him, are jealous of him. 
You treat him the way you always have. Like your best friend. 
That’s all he needs. 
And so Luke throws himself into his training, vowing to become the youngest kingsguard in Aureldan history to honor his mother’s memory. He wasn’t able to save his mother, and he needs to become strong enough to protect the ones he loves from anything. 
(You don’t know it, but he thinks of you every time he closes his eyes and sees the night his mother died. He’s in the place of his mother and you’re in your father’s position, and Luke knows that he would sacrifice himself for you every single time.) 
So you don’t have as much time for each other anymore. Luke is on his kingsguard mission, and you’re starting to come into your own as the Crown Princess of Aurelda. 
You can’t sneak out of lessons anymore to go talk with Luke, because you’re starting to learn about the nuances of politics. 
Luke can’t let you interrupt his training, because he’s on a warpath and he won’t be stopped before he reaches his goal. 
You can’t neglect your responsibilities because they’re more than just etiquette or history lessons. War is going to come to Aurelda sooner or later, and you’ve got to be ready when it does.
You’re only sixteen, but neither of you are children anymore.  
But you’re still best friends. Nothing can change that—it’s just changed the way you show it. 
You take your morning walks with your mother past the training grounds, and Luke always smiles at you and salutes no matter what. You bow your head in a very refined, princess-y nod, and you continue on. 
Luke makes sure he’s always the one that gets to deliver news to you, even going so far as to make deals with other servants and messengers just to make sure he gets to see you at least once a day. 
Most of the time, you end up seeing each other at night. Just happening to end up in the kitchens at the same time for a midnight snack that results in hours of talking with each other. Bringing Luke to your balcony to look at the stars together. 
Even some midnight training has occurred together, though you always end up a sweaty mess and having to make a bath for yourself because you can’t alert your servants. Luke says he likes you best when you have that vicious glint in your eye while you’re training with him. 
Luke still has horrific dreams, and though he weathered them on his own for a while, one night he finds himself outside your door. When you open it, seeing his haunted eyes and disheveled appearance, you let him in immediately.
It’s not the first time you’ve slept in the same bed after nightmares, and you know it won’t be the last. 
(You spent the whole week together after his mother’s death. Not even your parents could complain when they saw the change in both of you.)  
And Luke does it. He completes his training, having become one of the fiercest and youngest warriors Aurelda has ever seen. Traditionally, knights are older, but an exception was made for Luke—he’s got the Castellan name and a childhood spent with the greatest knights in the kingdom to back him up.
You’re the first person he tells when he finds out, and your scream of pure joy must have echoed throughout the entire castle. You hug him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, and for just a moment, in your embrace, he feels like you’re both kids again. 
Weeks from his eighteenth birthday, your father knights Luke Castellan in an official ceremony. 
Not just as a member of the kingsguard, though—he is sworn in as a knight, and as your personal bodyguard. 
Your father didn’t tell you beforehand, and you thank a childhood of courtly influence to keep the shock off your face. One hand tightens ever so slightly into a fist, and you let it out just as quickly. 
You can’t see Luke’s expression, kneeling and head turned downward. You would pay all the gold in the kingdom to know what he was thinking. 
“Sir Luke Castellan.” Your father’s voice booms through the hall, and a shiver even goes down your spine. “Do you swear to serve Aurelda as her loyal knight, through war and peace, through riches and debt?”
“I do,” Luke says. 
“Do you swear to protect the Crown Princess of Aurelda—” your father says your entire title, and for the fifth time you wonder how many middle names a princess needs, “—my daughter—with everything you have in you, until your dying breath?” 
Your breathing stills for the slightest moment. 
Luke doesn’t flinch. “I do.” 
The thought of Luke dying for you is unimaginable. It’s something you’d never ask of him—you don’t think you could live in a world without him anyways. You know it’s what knights are expected to do—for king and country, my life for yours—but that’s for any member of the royal family—any member of the court. 
Luke is assigned solely to your protection. 
And he doesn’t even falter when he bonds his life to yours. 
As soon as the ceremony is over and Aurelda has gained three new knights, you’re on your way to Luke. You don’t care if anyone else wants to talk with the princess, you don’t care if your parents need to tell you something—royal propriety be damned, you need to talk to Luke.
He doesn’t look surprised when you march up to him, but there’s already a different air about him. 
Maybe it’s because in these past couple of years he’s absolutely shot up in height, maybe it’s because his insane training regimen has toned every part of him, maybe it’s because he’s done what no one else has done before, or maybe it’s just because he actually accomplished his goal. 
But when he smiles at you, that crooked slant to his lips that always meant mischief when you were younger, it’s enough to make that train of thought immediately shut down. 
“Princess,” he greets. “I think we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, these days.” 
“Yeah,” you say, the warpath you’d intended to be on fading away almost immediately with his words (and that goddamned smile that will certainly be the death of you someday.) “Maybe this is our way to make up on all that lost time.” 
“...I’d like that,” Luke says. 
“Can I hug you?” you ask wryly. “Or is that unbecoming of a brand new knight?” 
“I don’t think anyone will tell the princess she is doing something wrong,” Luke says. 
So you do. You hug him, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you hate that you had any doubt that he would. You’ve always felt safe in his embrace even since you were children, and now that he’s four times as strong and much taller, you feel it more than ever. 
He truly does look the part of a perfect knight. You remember the days of wooden sword fights and afternoons by the lake, wondering what your future awaited, but sure you would be together no matter what. 
You feel like you’ve aged a century since then.
“I’m proud of you, you know,” you say as you pull away. “You’re incredible. I mean— you always have been, but this… It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. So I’m proud of you.” 
Luke brushes his curls out of his face with a gauntleted hand, his smile turning a bit more genuine. “It means the world, princess. You are… one of the main reasons that I even made it up here. So I have you to thank.” 
You feel your cheeks heat. “I haven’t done anything.” 
“You’ve been you,” he refutes. “You’ve stood by my side through everything, and you’ve always been there when I need you no matter what. You’ve done everything.” 
You’re thankful for the sheer sleeves of your gown, because now your entire body feels warm. And maybe that’s why you practically blurt the question out, but it’s been burning in your mind since the moment it happened. 
“Did you know?” 
He frowns. “Know what?” 
“That you would become my personal guard,” you said. “You’ve wanted to be a part of the kingsguard since you were a child, and now…” 
“Princess,” Luke says, “I asked your father for the honor.” 
That throws you off. “What?”
“Do you think he would entrust your wellbeing to just anyone?” he asks. “It’s part of the reason I’ve been training so hard—I wanted to prove to him that I was worthy of the position.” 
“Luke—” you start, but he shakes his head.  
“War is coming to Aurelda whether we like it or not,” he says. “All I want is for you to be safe. This way, I can ensure it.” 
“You said you would die for me,” you say. “You vowed it.” 
“That is generally how knighthood works, yes—” 
“Luke,” you interrupt forcefully. “I don’t want you to die for me.” 
“The goal is for nobody to die,” he says wryly. 
You cross your arms. “You know what I mean.” 
“Your safety is my number one concern, princess,” he says. “That’s all you need to know.” 
You stare at him. He stares back. 
You win, because Luke sighs and shakes his head. “We don’t have to worry about that at the moment. Right now, you have to get back to change before you sit in on an advisor’s meeting with the king and queen.” 
You frown. “How do you know?” 
“I’m your guard,” Luke says. “It’s my job to know.” 
“You were just sworn in!” you protest. 
“And I am always prepared,” he remarks. Luke holds his hand out in a gesture towards the door. “After you, princess.” 
You shake your head as you start walking. You hear Luke’s footsteps start soon after, much heavier than yours in full armor as opposed to your ceremonial dress. “You are ridiculous.” 
“Which is also my job,” Luke muses.
and so luke becomes a knight, but not just any knight.
your knight.
good luck handling that crush on him you've harbored since childhood now.
686 notes · View notes
kaidabakugou · 1 year
Text
calling katsuki after a villain attack while he’s away on a mission in another country
blood is seeping from your sides and you can barely see anything from all the debris but you try your best to bite down the pain as you crawl to rest your back against a fallen wall, reaching for your phone to call him as chills starts to prickle up your skin from the cold weather
answering the call after a few rings with a raspy voice, signaling that he was sleeping before you called. the grogginess immediately leaving his body when he hears your choked up voice call out to him. immediately flooding you with questions as worry starts to crawl up his spine
“babe? where are you?! what’s wrong?!!”
“i- i don’t know where i am kats, i can’t really see much” you say in between sniffles as you press on the gash at your side harder trying to contain the bleeding as best as you could in the hopes of someone coming for you
“what happened?” he ask sitting up in the bed of his hotel room, his heart hammering against his chest as he feels his lungs getting tighter making it a little hard to breathe at the thought of something happening to you
you explain how the villain came out of no where and you were separated from eijirou and now you don’t know where he is or when back up will arrive. how you managed to find refuge under the remains of a collapsed building but you wounds were too severe for you to aid them on your own
his heart sinks deeper into his rib age with every word that spills from your lips, dread sinking into his bones at the fact that he’s not there to help you and can’t get to you on time being miles away right now
“i um, i didn’t know who else to call, so i wanted to at least hear your voice again”, you choke out as you try to swallow the lump in your throat
“listen to me, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?”, he says as he tries his best to console you
“mhm” you answer while trying to take a deep breath, your lungs aching with each inhale you take
“say it! i need to hear you say it, baby… tell me you’re okay!” he orders on the other line, desperation evident in his voice, needing to hear you say it, not knowing at this point if it was for your comfort or for his own
“katsuki, i’m okay”, you say with a tremble in your voice as tears start to spill from your eyes
“you’re okay” he whispers back to you while he stays in the line with you, trying to contain the tears spilling from his eyes as he continues comforting you the best that he can, exchanging soft i love you’s and telling you to hold on just a while longer until someone finds you
bakugou katsuki was never a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god or deity that could be listening to not take you from him, anything but you
and as your breaths got slower and you stopped responding to his questions as he desperately called out to you, he swore he felt his heart stopped in that very moment, sitting alone in his hotel room, miles away from home, from you
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seasonal depression is hitting me and i’m literally sobbing while writing this, how can some of y’all write this on the regular? i’m breaking my own heart over here
5K notes · View notes
bookyeom · 2 months
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pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy
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Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.
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pov by ariana grande
i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do
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You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.
You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged. 
“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice. 
“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.
”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.
“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes. 
“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch. 
“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.” 
“Come on. Stop.”
Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”
“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”
“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.
“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself. 
“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”
The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”
You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”
You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“
“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting. 
“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.
“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”
“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff. 
“DK would,” you mumble.
“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.” 
“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off. 
“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”
“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”
“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine. 
“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five. 
“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”
”Are you saying you don't care about me?”
You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”
“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand. 
“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”
“How do you know that, Jeonghan?” 
“When are you guys hanging out next?”
You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you. 
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“How was yesterday?”
“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol. 
You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.
“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.
“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”
Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”
“Cheol.”
“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”
You look back down at your food. “He did.”
Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”
“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”
The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”
“You’re being a dick.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”
“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”
This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.
“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”
“Yeah,” is all you say. 
“Hey.”
You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can. 
He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?” 
You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.
That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.
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You hate how downright… silly you feel.
”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”
“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen. 
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.
“Are you happy?”
Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”
”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.
”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”
“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”
The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.
“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”
Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it. 
“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?” 
You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.
“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.
“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”
“But what did I do wrong? With him?”
Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it. 
You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen. 
“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.
It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”
To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.
“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”
You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?
“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.
“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”
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You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok. 
You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back. 
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Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?
You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.
Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas
Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there 
Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(
Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE
You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.
Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?
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You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.
Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard. 
“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”
You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath. 
“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”
Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”
Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”
You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”
The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.
“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.
“Listen, I–”
“Hey, Cheol–”
You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him. 
“You first,” you offer, and he nods.
“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day. 
You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.
“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool. 
Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”
You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”
“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that. 
“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.” 
You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.
“Yeah?” 
Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?
“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.
He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.
“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.
“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.” 
The tension in the air is palpable. 
Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.
“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”
That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”
“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.
“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”
You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.
“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.” 
When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm. 
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.
“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand. 
I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.
You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.
He seems to understand you just fine.
He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.
The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him. 
The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his. 
Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him. 
When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”
It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”
He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it. 
You believe him.
“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”
He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.
“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?” 
You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”
“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.
“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”
Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”
You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”
The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”
“You’ve thought about it, huh?”
You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”
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A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda
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lastoneout · 2 months
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Y'all ever look back at your childhood and remember moments where your parents did something that you would never do to another child in a million years BUT was frustratingly undeniably effective?
And like I don't mean spanking, hitting your kids is wrong no matter what, I mean like when I was 5 I was scared of worms bcs they were different and gross but my Nonna wanted to teach me to garden and you HAVE to not freak out when you find worms, so despite the fact that I was squirming and crying she just grabbed my hand and put a worm in it, and I was immediately like "oh this is fine actually" and then I was never scared of worms again.
Like, she probably shouldn't have done that, especially bcs that's the attitude my family had about a LOT of stuff and I now am legitimately phsycologically triggered when I go through something upsetting and/or painful and someone says "see that wasn't so bad, now was it?" bcs I view that as them belittling my feelings and physical comfort......but listen I'm not scared of worms anymore!! That one sure did work!!
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starlightkun · 3 months
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❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series
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You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?
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You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.
And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.
Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”
Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?
Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”
“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”
You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”
“Meet anyone?”
“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”
“Oh?”
Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.
The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.
At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”
“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”
“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”
Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”
She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”
“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”
“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”
“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”
At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.
All that was left was to make her proud.
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Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.
Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.
Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.
As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”
“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.
“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”
Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”
“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”
“He doesn’t.”
You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”
“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”
“If that’s what’ll convince you.”
“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”
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When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.
Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”
“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.
You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.
“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.
NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.
It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.
Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”
You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.
“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”
With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”
They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.
Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”
A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.
Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”
“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.
Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”
“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.
The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.
“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.
Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”
“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”
You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.
Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.
When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.
Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.
You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.
He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”
Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”
Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.
“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.
Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”
“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”
You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”
But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.
“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.
“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”
You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.
Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.
“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.
Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”
“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.
While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”
“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.
“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”
“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”
“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”
“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”
“We should hang out.”
“What?”
“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”
“I guess.”
“Then we should start right now.”
Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.
So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.
“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”
“Then tomorrow.”
“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”
“What do you do for work?”
“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”
Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”
“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”
NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”
If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.
“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”
You sighed, “It does...”
The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”
“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”
“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.
“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?
“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”
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[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]
Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.
[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]
[jeno: if that works for you, of course]
[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]
[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]
Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.
“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.
“It's just one person,” you informed her.
“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”
“Lee Jeno, apparently.”
“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”
“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”
She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”
“Right.”
Not a great idea to leave him on read.
[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]
[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]
It was less than a minute later that he replied.
[jeno: here’s my schedule]
[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]
A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.
“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.
“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”
“So far the last one seems most likely.”
With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.
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Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.
Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.
A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.
Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”
“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”
“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.
“I don’t mind—”
You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”
With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.
He didn’t.
The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.
His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.
“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.
“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”
With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.
Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.
Hopefully.
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The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.
It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.
Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.
But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.
Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.
He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”
Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.
You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.
The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.
“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.
The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.
“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.
“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”
“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.
He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”
“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”
“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.
“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”
You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.
“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.
“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.
He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”
You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.
“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.
“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”
Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.
“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”
“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”
Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”
“Hm?”
“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”
You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”
“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”
The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.
“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”
“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”
“And what about the others?”
As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.
Why you?
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Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.
Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.
“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.
“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.
The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”
You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”
He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”
“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.
The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”
“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”
Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”
“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”
“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.
There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.
“Really,” you echoed.
The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.
“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.
“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.
Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.
“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”
“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.
Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”
He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”
And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.
“Wow.”
It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”
Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.
Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”
You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”
“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”
“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.
“So you did give her a hard time.”
Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.
Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.
“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”
He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”
Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.
“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”
“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”
Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”
There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.
The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.
“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.
“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.
Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.
“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.
“Nothing.”
You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”
“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.
Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”
Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”
“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.
“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”
“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”
Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”
You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”
Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.
“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”
You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?
“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.
Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”
Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.
“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”
“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.
Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.
His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.
“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.
Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”
“Where are we going?”
He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”
It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.
“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.
“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.
“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.
“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”
“Okay…”
As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?
“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.
“Done what?”
“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”
This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.
And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.
And you panicked.
Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”
Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.
“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”
That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.
“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.
He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.
You could dream.
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“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”
You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.
Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.
“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.
“I said no,” you deadpanned.
“What?”
“Well, kind of.”
At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”
“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.
“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.
“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”
“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.
“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”
“He’s hot.”
Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.
She snorted, “That’s a problem?”
“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”
“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”
“No, never. I couldn’t.”
“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”
The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”
She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”
Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”
Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.
“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”
“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”
Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”
She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.
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You couldn’t do it.
The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.
Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.
Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.
Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.
As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.
“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.
“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.
You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.
His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”
For now.
Maybe you liked the idea of that.
“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.
“Can I at least tip?”
“Already added that on the receipt.”
“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”
He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.
Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.
And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.
You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.
With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”
Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”
Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.
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The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.
“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.
You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.
“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”
“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”
“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”
She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.
Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”
Oh, another ‘but.’
“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”
You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”
You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.
“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”
Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.
“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”
That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.
Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.
“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”
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Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.
“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”
“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.
Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”
You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.
“And she wants a second part.”
“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”
And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”
You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”
Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.
“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”
“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”
A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.
“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”
You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.
“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.
“Since now.”
You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”
“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”
That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.
Right?
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One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.
Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.
Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.
“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.
“Nothing.”
You frowned.
“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”
He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.
“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”
He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?
Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.
Right?
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On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.
All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.
As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.
But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.
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“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”
Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.
“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”
“Fine.”
“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”
He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.
“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”
“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”
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The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.
Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.
“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”
He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”
Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.
“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.
He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.
“Jeno, look at me.”
At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.
“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”
He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.
Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.
You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.
Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”
And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”
“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ve got plenty of paper.”
Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”
His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?
“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.
Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.
“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”
The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”
You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.
“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”
Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.
“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”
A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.
“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”
“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.
This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.
You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”
Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”
“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”
While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”
“Right!”
Right?
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Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.
You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.
After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.
One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.
The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.
The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.
You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.
When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.
“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.
“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.
“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”
A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”
“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”
“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”
“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”
“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He giggled.
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“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.
“Yep!”
“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”
“Yep!”
“Without a guide.”
“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”
“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”
“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”
“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”
“Now you’re being dramatic.”
You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”
“Let’s go!”
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Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.
Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.
“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.
Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.
“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”
He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”
“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”
“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”
“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.
“There you go.”
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“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.
You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.
Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.
“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.
From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.
A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.
“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”
“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”
You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”
“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”
“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”
As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”
“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.
You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”
Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.
With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”
He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.
Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.
“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.
“Nope.”
“That one?” You pointed to a different one.
“Nope.”
“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.
Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”
He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.
“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.
He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.
“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”
“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”
“A couple more minutes?”
“Yeah, of course.”
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After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.
The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.
You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.
“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.
“Who doesn’t like to travel?”
“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”
“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”
You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”
That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.
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Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”
“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.
It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.
You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.
“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.
Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”
“Yeah.”
You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.
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It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”
You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?
The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.
“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”
“When do you think that will be?”
“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”
“And the latest?”
“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”
You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.
Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.
With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.
Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”
You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.
The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.
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Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.
Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.
The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.
Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.
You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.
“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.
As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.
“Wh—”
You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?
With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.
He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.
When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.
Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”
A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.
Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.
“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”
“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”
“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.
Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”
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The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.
Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.
You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.
“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.
Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”
“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”
You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”
“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”
“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.
“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”
Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”
“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”
It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”
After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”
“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”
“I can wait three weeks.”
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And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.
“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.
“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.
As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.
The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.
At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”
“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”
“Together!” He repeated.
Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.
“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.
“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.
“It took you five days to read it.”
He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.
Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.
But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.
Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.
You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.
With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.
A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.
“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.
“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.
“I have a question…”
“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.
“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”
“Ask away.”
“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”
“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”
“Jeno, I’m sorry—”
“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”
You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”
“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”
“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”
“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”
“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.
“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”
“I love you.”
“Christ, I was joking!”
“I wasn’t!”
You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”
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Reign down on me - Part 2
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Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)
No use of y/n or mention of gender/race
Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt
A/N: This is a bit of a short update, but I wanted to get something out for the people that were asking for it! Enjoy 💕
-🐺-
You were embarrassed as soon as the realisation hit you, but by the time you’d had a decent rest and something to eat, you were feeling a lot more even footed. You were standing at the precipice of your new posting with anticipation, ready and waiting at the front door of Ghost’s house, eagerly listening out for him to come out of his room and take you to the new base. 
Ghost had knocked on your door earlier that morning just a little while after the sun had risen. He was still donning his skull balaclava and dressed similarly to the night before, though he had seemed to have changed sine. His eyes widened a fraction once he looked in and saw you, a flicker of surprise crossing what little you saw of his features when he saw you sitting awake on your freshly made bed. 
“Earlier riser. Not a nest builder then?” he’d noted.
You struggled to remember the last time you’d made a blanket nest, you could barely recall how to build one. That was one of the first things that’d been beaten straight out of you after being left at the barracks, leaving your ‘bed’ in any other state than bare with folded up sheets was an immediate punishment. 
“I’m not a child,” you muttered.
You were determined not to get emotional that day. Set against becoming the mushy tempered little pup you’d been the day before and instead behave like the soldier you were. That way, you figured, he might treat you the way he was supposed to as well. No more surprises, just business as usual.
However you were met with shock again when he’d led you away from bed and pointed at the table you’d sat at the night before. At what was apparently now your seat, there was a steaming  styrofoam box with bacon, eggs, toast and beans cooked to perfection and ready for you to eat. The scent was rolling through the air and rushing into your system, overwhelming you as you took an unsure stoop into your chair. 
“For me?” you asked, making sure to confirm before picking up the fork and knife laid out. 
“Yeah, Price ordered out for us. You’ve got a big day ahead, and he wants you on top form. And apparently I can’t be trusted to sort breakfast,” he said, scoffing at that last part. “Eat up and get ready. I’ll get you at the door in an hour.”
You breathed out a sigh, already not sure what to make of getting such a lavish breakfast, but there was nothing for it. If your new Captain had specifically requested you eat the feast in front of you, then you’d scarf down every last bit of it. Your stomach baulked at the idea of having so much in the morning when you were used to very little, but you ate it all while Ghost busied himself with the dishes from the night before behind you. Apparently he was intent on filling the air with a clattering clanging orchestra.
By the end of your meal, you’d figured that breakfast had to be one of the best you’d ever had, but with good food comes a heavy stomach and it turned you sluggish. It made for a struggle to find your motivation to go to the bathroom and get ready. However you bullied yourself into getting through it, your mental drill sergeant forcing you along until you ended up at the door fully dressed and in your usual black cargos and white T-shirt, tail swishing in anticipation for Ghost.
Your boots were still a bit damp from being in the rain all day before, but you were sure that with whatever Price had planned they’d be smelling like old cheese either way. It didn’t stop your nose wrinkling any less though. 
“Do you not have another pair of boots?” Ghost groused, looking you up and down while his heavy steps came thudding up to the door. 
He was all wrapped up in his big black jacket. He looked a lot warmer than you did standing there holding off the shakes, but you knew better than to complain. Plus your belly was full of meat and carbs so it helped your body fend off the morning chill. 
“We only get issued one set,” you said, looking down at your sodden feet, “I can try to clean them off a bit more, but I figured it would just waste time and make them wetter.”
“Well that’s changing today. You can’t walk around in wet shoes like that, we’re not in world war one,” he grunted. “What else do you need?”
You frowned at him, tilting your head at the question. Why would you need anything else?
“What else would I need?” you asked earnestly, hoping he wouldn’t get annoyed at the stupid question. 
“Your bag wasn’t very big and those clothes you were wearing last night were falling to bits. You’ve clearly been sewing them a lot, and not very well,” he laughed. “Tell me what you need and I’ll send for it.”
“I…” you tried to think of something, anything just to avoid looking like an idiot, but you couldn’t. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. I have all the things I’m required to have.”
Your ears folded down, your body was bracing and ready for him to shout at you, instincts winning over your pride. It was bad enough you weren’t able to answer his question, but you’d pretty much disagreed with him as well just by saying you had what you needed. A rookie move, you thought as you admonished yourself.
“Can I see what you brought with you?” Ghost asked, his voice so quiet under the muffling of his mask material. 
You bit your lip and nodded, still waiting for the roaring thunder of shouts to begin and start beating against the walls. Instead he just moved his body to the side and motioned for you to go back to your room. You were forced to pass by him, shrugging your shoulders into your neck in anticipation of a grab. Every little creak across the wood felt like a prelude to some larger sound or maybe even a smack, but you were shocked to find that none of what you imagined came to pass. 
Once you’d reached your little chest of drawers, you were worked up to hell. There was blood rushing fast in your ears, a river running through your head and you were having to hold your breath just to keep your chest from convulsing. Ghost wouldn’t have noticed your breathing anyway though, while you panicked and waited for him to finally show his anger, he opened your drawers and revealed the barren interiors inside, closing each one with a heavy thunk and a dissatisfied tisk.
“Really, pup, is this all you have?” Ghost sighed, ending his search at the last drawer.
It contained two other pairs of black cargos and your sweats that you’d been wearing the night before. You looked down at it with glassy eyes and then back at Ghost, still waiting for your scolding. Waiting for him to rise up from his crouch and tower over you again. 
“Three pairs of trousers, five T-shirts, underwear for the week, and a set of bedclothes,” you listed, trying to keep a hold of yourself. “Plus a sewing kit. That’s what the rules say we need to have. Is there a different regulation here, sir?”
Ghost put his head in his hands for a moment and you pursed your lips, readying yourself for an explosion. Your toes curled and your claws dug into your palms, every fibre of your body was poised for an attack that you had to let happen. There was no way you were going to start the morning off badly with defying your handler on your first official day afterall. 
“You should have more than this,” Ghost finally said, his voice an even rumble as always. “You’ve served for a long time, you should have some personal things, darlin’.”
Your fear was now turning to frustration. Now you were at a loss, you didn’t understand what he wanted. Why was he wasting so much time on this clothes issue when you were supposed to go meet Price? The last thing you wanted was for Price to be mad at your late arrival because Ghost was getting caught up on your clothes.  
“Have you been wearing your work clothes on day trips?” Ghost asked.
“On…what?”
“When you go off base,” he prodded, now standing up to his full height again. “What do you wear in your downtime?”
“I’ve only ever been off base for missions and off-site training,” you murmured, looking down at your dirty boots. “It’s just hybrids with permanent handlers that get taken out at Branhaven and no one ever wanted to have me until you and Price. Everything I have is in those drawers…apart from some bathroom stuff I put away in the sink cupboard, I made sure I kept it all out of the way of your things though.”
Ghost looked dumbstruck. It was a funny thing, even though you couldn’t see his face you could still tell so much about his expression through his eyes and body. And in that moment his eyes looked lost and his fists were clenched at his sides. You couldn’t figure out why that sentence was what he seemed the most angry at since that whole segue had started, but you couldn’t deny that there was something like a glint of murder in his face.
“Can we just go now, sir?” you asked, looking past his shoulder and hoping you could entice him to drop the whole stupid subject. “Won’t Captain Price be mad if I’m late?”
Ghost untensed his muscles and dropped his hands. 
“He won’t be mad, it’ll be fine,” he assured, putting a hand on your shoulder and making you jump. “Woah, easy darlin’. It’s ok. Don’t worry about all this, alright? I’ll talk to you about all this later, but for now you’re right, we should get heading. C’mon.”
You huffed out a sigh of relief when he turned and clutched at your chest for a second, thanking whatever spirit was around that you gave him an effective distraction. Though you dreaded to think the subject was going to be revisited. You were still going to be equally as clueless as to why he was so upset that you didn’t have more…stuff. 
You had no idea what that stuff was supposed to be or what you’d need it for when you had perfectly sufficient things that you could always repair whenever that was required. Anything else was just stupid, you were just a hybrid. What would you do with personal items or civilian clothes? It’s not like you were bursting with photos to frame or had any events to look nice for.
It was all so stupid! You put it out your mind and compartmentalised, following silently at Ghost's big back as he took wide strides across the smooth paving and over to his car. You never were good with remembering makes or what logos were what, but what you did know was that It was huge and black and practically gleaming it was so clean. It was clearly something that he took pride in. 
It made you purse your lips once inside, entirely mindful of how spotless his matching black leather interior was. It didn’t seem very conducive with wolf fur so you opted to grab your tail and hold it round your front once you were seated, hoping you could stop yourself from shedding all over the place and creating another uncomfortable conversation. Even though the angle hurt and needled at your old injury, you muscled through with gritted teeth, summoning all your strength for whatever lay ahead. 
Besides, you thought as the engine roared to life, the pain almost made up for the lack of punishment before. It put your head back into order. 
“Well well, look who finally decided to show up.”
You’d already gotten out of Ghost’s car with your heart in your throat after seeing you were ten minutes later than he’d said you needed to be. Now standing at the foot of the office, Price’s words had you wincing. You panicked and looked from the Captain sitting at his shaky old desk and then back up at Ghost in the doorway, internally cursing him for taking up your precious time with all of his nonsense about clothes.
“Somethin’ came up,” Ghost shrugged, settling one of his hands across your back and on your shoulder. “Fair warning - this one’ll have a heart attack if you pretend to get mad, so consider your next words carefully.”
Price raised his brows and looked straight at you then, smiling with that signature crinkly eyed grin of his. You remembered his face well, you’d always been thrown by how kind it looked when you’d gone away with him. You weren’t used to Captain’s like him, not accustomed to anyone giving you smiles and encouraging praise. 
At the start of the mission he’d made sure to emphasise he’d be looking out for you through his scope and had Gaz ready with a rifle if anyone had tried to intercept your tracking. Then after you’d returned home he’d made a point of taking you for a burger before he took you back to your base, even letting you sit in his warm truck and enjoy it properly. 
“Well we don’t want that, do we? C’mon, love, take a seat and we’ll go over some things before you go see the other two,” Price said, pointing to one of the chairs in front of him. 
You complied immediately, forgetting about your rush of memories, racing to sit down to a point you were almost sprinting to the chair. Price kept the smile on his face while Ghost sat beside you, both men sharing a look while you anxiously waited to hear what Price was going to say. You couldn’t help but fidget with your tail, digging your fingers deep into the wiry top layer of fur and into the soft tufts underneath. 
“Ghost filled me in on what happened yesterday,” Price said, brows lifting as he tilted his head down at you. “And we want you to know that’s not how we wanted to manage the transfer. So first off, I just want to make sure you’re doing ok. How do you feel about the new arrangement?”
You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. As much as you liked the Captian, you still didn’t expect him to mirror Ghost’s strange behaviour and ask about your feelings. He hadn’t said much to you before when you’d gone away with him, there weren’t any good markers to see if this was normal behaviour.
It all made you wonder if you’d been taken away to some kind of opposite land where hybrids seemed to mean something. Then again, you thought bitterly, perhaps this was all a test, just to see how you’d respond.
“Fine, sir,” you answered, fingers threading tighter through your tail. 
Ghost and Price shared another look. Price’s mouth quirked as if he had gathered something from the stare that Ghost gave him.  
“Ok…well that’s good. Do you have any questions for us? 
“No, sir. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, I’m ready,” you said, giving a little nod for emphasis. 
Price chuckled, but the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. You were sure you’d said something wrong, but if pressed to answer what that was…you wouldn’t know what to say. 
“I’m glad that you’re keen to get started, that’s a good sign. I’m not looking for you to dive right into working though, I want you to have questions and ask us things, so go ahead. You must have something you want to know.”
You sighed and looked down at your tail again, stomach feeling all the heavier after that breakfast. There were a lot of questions floating around your head, but every little piece of you was crying out to just shut up. 
Hybrids don’t ask questions, they follow orders. 
You had been told to ask your questions though. It would surely make him angrier to be denied, you reasoned to yourself. 
“Why me, sir?” You asked, looking up from your lap. 
“Why’d we want you on the team? I liked working with ya, you were quiet, efficient, had a keen focus as well. Simple as that really. We needed a hybrid and I thought you’d be a good fit with us.”
“A good fit, sir? Why?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you. 
“Everyone on the taskforce is someone that I can count on. I’ve worked with each one of ‘em at various times in my career and I know that they’ll deliver every time I ask them to go out on the field. You did well on that mission you joined us on, and 
 when looked over your record after, I was impressed with your results to say the least. Makes you a great candidate for the 141.” 
“I’ve never had anyone mention anything good about my record before you both,” you muttered. “Are you sure they didn’t mix up the file handover, Captain?” 
Price shook his head and reached his hand across the table, warm skin enclosing over yours as he held his palm over the back of your hand. You felt your ears perk up in surprise. He was…touching you? And not for corrective reasons either! 
“I can assure you it was the right one, love. There wasn’t anything I saw on there that made me think you couldn’t do this job,” he said, giving your hand a quick pat before withdrawing again. “It ain’t all about staying out of trouble.”
You looked up at him and said nothing then, completely silenced by his thoughtful gesture. You’d gotten in plenty of trouble, that was for sure, but you only ever acted like a little shit with the assholes back on your base. Things were different now. You didn’t know how to orient yourself, didn’t know how to behave in your new circumstances.
Instinct said to ignore all the fluffy behaviour and just get through the day doing what you were told, but there was a tiny part of you that really wanted to believe that maybe the men in that room had your best interests at heart - maybe, just maybe this was the break you’d always secretly hoped for. Not that you gave that part of yourself much credence, its voice was too similar to that of the young pup that said that maybe your family would come back for you one day. Maybe they’d realise they made a mistake dropping you off and they’d let you come home again. Stupid stupid little wolf that you were to ever even have a notion like that. 
“Well, I’ll do my best regardless, Sir,” you smiled, hoping he’d move on and get the day going. 
“Good to hear. Do you have anything else you’d like to know before we get stuck in?” 
“No, sir,” you said a little too eagerly. 
He laughed at that. His chuckling low, deep and earthy as the cigar scent that permeated around him. There was something so naturally easy about Price, something that had you relaxing even while you wondered if you were going to get in trouble for not being interested enough to ask more. 
“Well, first things first, welcome to the 141. As you’re the first hybrid member, I expect there will be a learning curve for us all, so we’re going to be training hard over the next few weeks while we get used to each other. Ghost is the only one of us fully trained in hybrid handling, so all of us will be taking his lead while we learn to work properly together out on the field. You’ll be with Ghost for your first few missions, but after that initial few weeks pass you can be sent out with any of the team at any time. You’re not just getting sent on assignment anymore and you’re not dealing with the likes of your old base, you’re dealing with very intense work,” Price said, taking a sharp intake of breath as his tone changed. “You’re going to be out with us in all manner of terrains and situations, and oftentimes under heavy fire. We can be sent anywhere at anytime, and when a target is discovered we need to act quick. We deal with very prolific HVT’s and even in high stress, they need to be brought in safely for interrogation. All this is to say, you’re not expected to act like a mutt anymore, I don’t need that on my team. I want you to be sharp and take initiative, I will need you to communicate with us and to share your thoughts rather than blindly follow orders even when you know they’ll lead to trouble. Your perspective is valuable, you can hear better and sniff out danger that we can’t, so if you flag something then tell us. Do you think you can do that?” 
You raised your brows, head heating in malfunction, not at all ready for the big speech your new captain had imparted on you. Learning to act like a ‘mutt’ was the only thing that had ever been drilled into you. It was the reason you’d been met with so much trouble at the beginning of your career, the main reason your original handlers had encouraged the others to beat you that little bit harder and to make your life more miserable than the rest. You’d been shoved into submission all your life and told to shut the fuck up and do as you were told, you’d never ever been told your perspective was valuable.
You weren’t even given a mic to communicate with out on the field when you started, you were just supposed to follow orders as they came to you. You’d learned ever since then not to speak unless asked.
“Not to question you, but…just to clarify. You’re telling me you want me to go against orders, sir?”
“Well for example… I tell you to walk into a building and you can smell that it’s riddled with explosives, then yes. I expect you to raise the alarm when the situation calls for it. I don’t need a hybrid that’s going to go out and get themselves killed just to please me, I need someone that can get the job done and help get everyone back safe. Lives and mission success are more important than ego to me everytime, you will never be punished for acting in the interest of the team, which now includes you. Understand?”
“So just to get this clear, you’re giving me blanket permission to talk on comms - to give my opinion to you whenever I have one?” you asked incredulously. 
“Precisely. This should help with that,” he smiled, pulling something from out of the groaning top drawer of his desk and sliding it across to you. 
You reached out and accepted it, holding the strip of dark leather between your fingers and admiring how smooth and thick it felt, how high quality it was. Not missing the numbers 141, that were stamped into its side. It was a new collar. Outfitted with a built in mic and specialised remote lock, one that could be unlocked if it became snagged or got you into trouble in a fight. You were pretty sure it had a longer tracking range than standard collars too, and even came with a shiny D ring for tags. This was the kind of thing that hybrids wore when they were prized by their teams, owned by the sort of people that actually cared if you came back to them. 
“Is this really for me?” you asked sceptically, taking a hand off of the new collar and touching the one already round your neck, sliding a finger over the bruised skin at its rough sides. 
“Course it is. We can have it changed or altered if you’re not happy with it,” Price noted, watching your reaction carefully. 
“It’s perfect as is, best bit of kit I’ve ever gotten” you said quickly, running your fingers all the way down the bumpy stitching. “Thank you, sir.”
“Shall we get this thing off then?” Ghost said, speaking up from his place next to you. 
You looked over at him and followed his eyeline realising what he meant, touching your old collar once again. You didn’t need convincing. You nodded and tipped your head forward, letting him access the buckle at the back before unclipping and letting it loose, leaving you unmarked to the world for a minute, just another hybrid without a claim.
It was weird being bared like that, honestly you felt like he’d taken off your shirt or your trousers. You always wore your collar, and now that it was off you felt little better than a worm on a bait hook, wriggling uncomfortably at the sensation of air on your bare flesh. 
Order was restored when Ghost took your new collar and wrapped it around you, clicking it into place with a cheerful clink from the new locking mechanism. You sighed and let out the tension in your muscles, closing your eyes a second before straightening up and looking at Price and Ghost, checking over their satisfied faces. 
“Good to have you officially on the team, pup,” Ghost said with what was surely a grin. “Just need to put your tags on.” 
He took your ID tag from your old collar and slotted it on to the D ring at the front of your neck, then produced a handler tag from his pocket, letting you see it while he fiddled with the tag already round your neck. You took it in your hands and thumbed over the bumpy metal letters and rubber edges, tilting your head as you looked it over. 
LT Ghost
#09-2022
141
You’d always had the base information on your team tag, or had to wear a temporary one when you were sent on long deployments assigned to work with other teams. Even then you’d always get a building ID or some other number that would link you back with some office somewhere. You'd never worn someone else's name around your neck before, but now you were going to be linked to Ghost for the rest of your days. If anyone found you and reported your handler’s number to the relevant authorities they’d get a direct line to him. 
For a man that hadn’t even revealed his face to you, he was incredibly willing to hang such a big responsibility around your neck. You bit your lip and watched as he took the tag from you, fixing it in place behind your ID tag. His heavy breaths were escaping from behind his balaclava for a moment, he was in deep concentration trying to manouver the little tag with his huge hands. You grinned when you heard him swear at it.
“There, you’re stuck with me now,” he said matter of factly, giving the tags a playful tug when he was done. “How’s the collar feel? Not too tight?”
“It’s good, sir,” you shrugged, still marvelling that he was willing to take you on. “Feels a lot better than the old one.”
“That’s cause this,” he grunted, throwing your old collar into Price’s wastebin. “Was a piece of shit.”
You snorted out a laugh and watched as it disappeared into a mass of paper, going deep down to its crinkly death. You couldn’t disagree. It had been rough and frayed either age for far too long and they’d used it to grab you and haul you around like a hay bale for even longer. This new collar, was much smoother an….
d far more pleasant on your neck.
“It suits you,” Price smiled. “I know you’ll be a great addition to the team…that said, are you ready to go meet Gaz and Soap?”
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