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#ALSO HOW ARE WE A WHOLE THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH ALREADY
floweroflaurelin · 6 months
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Huevember day 10: The Patron
Let’s do terrible and beautiful things.
I’M STILL REELING FROM LAST NIGHT’S EPISODE I had something totally different planned for Day 10 and I shoved it to the side and made this instead. Shaking and screaming,, I’m just lucky the colour of Delilah’s influence is green…. Losing my mind over here
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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Phantom's Number 1 Fan Part 3
John Constantine calls a joint Justice League and Justice League Dark meeting.
It's not something he wants to do. He barely works with the LJD, but at least that lot understands his work and knows what to do and where to go.
The JL members always ask questions and forget proper manners when working with the paranormal- John isn't the most well-mannered bloke around, but even he knows to permanently say goodbye to ghosts so that they don't follow him home- and it's like trying to teach an intern while dodging bullets.
He prefers to avoid the whole origination, especially since Bruce's death; everyone has been walking on eggshells, and there is a sense of disorganization drenched in grief that John breaks into hives just thinking about, but this is big.
Bigger than he can handle it on his own or with just the JLD. Even if the whole group gives the bats not-so-stable glances as they filter in.
John notices that one of Batman's brats is missing- the smart one- but he has heard that the kid suffered some kind of psychotic break from his father's death. It's sad, really, mainly because John used to believe that the third Robin was the one with the good head on his shoulders.
What's worse is that the Third Robin up and ran off, having gone off the grid when he refused to accept Batman's death. The boy hadn't said anything besides, "The portraits told me!" after having a miniature breakdown in his home.
It didn't help that around this time, the boy teammates had all dropped like flies except for one. So yes, John knows it wasn't a big surprise that he lost it, but it was still sad to see. Kid is only seventeen.
He hopes they find him soon to give him the help he needs. John would offer a spell to try and find him, but he needs to learn about the kid better, which means his spell can only point in a general direction.
Nightwing looked downright ragged, but losing a father on the battlefield and a younger brother to his grief did a number on anyone.
John hates himself just a little for dragging the grieving family here. He does, but again, this is bigger than all of them. This is a matter of life and death- literally.
"Listen up. We have a bloody level ten on its way to Earth if it's not already here." His words cut through the muttering crowd, shutting everyone up. A level ten makes even the big, lousy Superman sweat. He snaps his fingers, allowing his magic to shift into the image of a King Phantom sitting on his throne- painted in the early 1200s and the picture that can be used to identify him.
The art style would have been almost modern if it wasn't for the unease that the painting could cause due to the glowing green from his majesty's portrait. They say the green was ectoplasm from the king himself- and that alone should warn others to not mess with him.
Everyone Justice League Dark member hissed through their teeth, sitting up straighter and a few even pale. John is once again grateful that they understand just how deep in shit they genuinely are.
"This is the Ghost King. He is not to be confused with a god or king of gods. He's something else entirely because he makes gods nervous. He is on his way here to kill whoever is dumb enough to threaten his pregnant fiancee, and I fear the rest of Earth will be collateral if we don't prepare-"
"That's Danny Phantom," A young voice cuts John off. He is surprised someone would talk over him in a level ten briefing. All eyes turn to Robin- er, the new Robin.
The kid is frowning at the image, his signature scowl already deeper than usual. He's also heard the new Robin was a spoiled boy who was not a team player.
"You know King Phantom?" John asks.
Robin nods. "Placeholder is obsessed with him. Half his room is covered with King Phantom's heroics."
"Do not call him that.," Nightwing hisses a second later. He frowned when Robin ignored him but returned to the room without further comment on the boy's cheek. "Danny Phantom is a low-level search and rescue hero. He pops up around the world but only sometimes interacts with people. Robin- Young Justice Robin- was obsessed with him."
The room gains an awkward weight as no one is willing to bring up the mentally unsound MIA teenager.
It's too bad for them. John has never cared about making anyone comfortable. "You said his room is covered in images of King Phantom?"
From the corner of his eyes, John catches sight of Zatanna's face. She's pale white, with a horrified expression as if though she was standing before the grim itself. Every other member of the Justice League Dark is in a similar state.
"Yes, he has a whole wall of posters and stuff." Nightwing conforms, and shit John knows who Phantom's after now.
The thing is, one just doesn't have pictures of King Phantom. No one knows why, but the Ghost King can not be documented. Not without having some kind of connection to the King.
Throughout history, the only ones who have ever had even one solid picture of the king- John's magic doesn't count cause he can't well hold the thing up forever- usually meant that the King would appear before them at one point.
There is also a myth if one could beat a member of the royal ghost family, then one wish is granted to them. If one can kill a royal ghost member, death can be overturned.
It's not true, obviously, for death is not easily beaten like that, but John knows that as an expert, would a mentally unwell teenager know the same?
It was also known that if the King appeared before you, something terrible would happen. The sighting of King Phantom often came as an omen and usually right before a terrible disaster.
In the last disaster, they lost Batman, and if King Phantom had shown up, where the Third Robin have spotted him? Where the Third Robin have thought the King could return the dead?
Not to mention the rumors!
King Phantom was hunting down a group of humans known as "The Bats." John hadn't put that much stock in that rumor simply because it could have been anyone- hell, when he looked up the bats seven different groups appeared, varying from boy bands to zoologists.
But if he placed the name "The Bats" next to the Third Robin's psychotic break, his obsession with King Phantom, and his intertwined fates...well, shit.
There is a slight chance that the Third Robin's fate could be intertwined with the Ghost King in a positive light, but John has learned to not be optimistic in his line of work.
"I think the Third Robin is gunning after the Ghost King's fiancee and unborn child in a misguided attempt to bring Batman back to life. He may have kicked started a war that humanity can not win," He announces. He hates to say. hates to even suggest it, but the needs of the many outweigh those of the few. "We have to find the Third Robin and attempt to stop him. If we can't reason with him, we must put him down."
Wonder Girl gasps a sob, pressing her hand against her mouth.
John hates himself a little more as she sobs; a few rushes to confront her, but no one is unaffected by the news.
"I'm ordering a hunt for the Third Robin," Wonderwoman speaks up to her steady leadership, returning everyone from their despair. "Every available hero will help. Do not use lethal force unless there is no other choice. We may be able to find him before King Phantom's armies arrive."
John just hopes they are not too late.
Meanwhile, across the plane of existence, unaware of the manhunt for his head, Tim Drake is trying to stare down a Yeti, attempting to put him in silk clothes that are just fabrics held together by strings.
"No."
"But-But- but you have such a flattering figure! You must flaunt it! The Great One will barely be able to contain himself if he sees you in this!"
"No. It looks like something you wear on a honeymoon to seduce your spouse. I'm not walking around in that."
"Well, you don't need to bewitch his majesty. You already have a child on the way." The Yeit mutters, considering the fabric in his claws with a frown. He is Frostbite's royal tailor and has been attempting to dress Tim for over an hour. Everything he's suggested so far looks like it came from those romantic fantasy games.
It's like they want to make him a sexy consort or something.
Tim's teeth grind against each other. He hates how often his role is reminded, how casually the yetis mention that Ra's expects a child from Tim.
He doesn't even know how that child will come to be, and it makes him sick. He's been bidding his time, waiting for his wounds to heal and to find a weakness in the frozen fortress, but so far, he is unsure how he will escape.
And Bruce is still out there, waiting for Tim to get him. He can't waste any more time here.
"How about this cloak?" The Yeti offers, holding up a dark metallic fabric that reminds TIm of his Robin cape. "If we are going for a more conservative look, something that screams power is just the way to make the masses wild!"
Ugh, he really needs to think of a plan soon.
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m4tthewmurd0ck · 5 months
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Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader
TBOSAS Vogue Interviews — Rachel + Tom
(next part will be you and Josh’s interview)
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no descriptors other than reader being shorter than tom but i use she / her. click [HERE] for the table of contents for all things tom x actress!reader
for the interviews, rachel and tom are still paired up since they’re the leads, and you’re with josh. sorry hunter hshxhsdi. also in this tbosas has been out for a month so the cast is allowed to talk specific scenes and give “spoilers”
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The first bit of the video shows short clips of some answers, but no context as to what the questions are.
“Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend,” Tom can’t help but smile.
Rachel playfully slaps him with the card. “I was going to say her!”
~
“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs.
“Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?” Tom laughs.
~
Tom sighs, “that was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”
“Honestly the games as a whole, because I missed a lot of the stunt training.”
~
THE INTERVIEW —
“Hi Vogue, I’m Rachel Zegler.”
“And I’m Tom Blyth. Today we’re here to ask each other some questions, rapid fire.”
Rachel shuffles the interview cards around. “Okay first question, what would you say was the most difficult scene to film and why? Ooh I have my answer already.”
“You go first, I’m still thinking,” Tom laughs.
“Well for me, the most difficult scenes physically were honestly… the games as a whole. I missed a lot of the stunt training so to have one of my first scenes be me running like crazy screaming for Jessup, it was pretty intense.”
Tom blushes a little. “Sort of piggy backing off of Rachel’s answer, the hardest physically I’d definitely say my scene with Josh when we’re running out of the arena. The first few takes were stopped fairly quickly because either he or I would trip. But the most difficult emotionally, the scene in the cabin with Coriolanus and Nova May.”
“Aww,” Rachel puts her hand over her heart. “That’s was so cool to watch you both but yeah I can for sure see why it would be difficult. Did you guys rehearse it a lot?”
Tom shakes his head. “Not at all actually. We ran through the lines a few times but as far as acting out the whole scene, not until we were on set and they wanted a run through. And thankfully after the third take they were satisfied. That was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”
Off camera, someone asks “how long have you guys been together?”
“Pretty much since we met,” Tom tries, and fails to hide his smile. “So she and Josh were actually cast on the same day in June of 2022. At that point Rachel and I had already been cast, and the 4 of us, it just so happened that we were all in London for one thing or another and we all went out to dinner that night. Knew I fancied her right away, and I wanna say it wasn’t even a couple of weeks later that I asked her to be my girlfriend. Sorry I know I went off topic. To answer your actual question, almost a year and a half.”
Tom and Rachel chat for a couple of minutes as cameras are moved around to capture different angles.
“Next question, something a lot more lighthearted. If you were a cheese, what—”
“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs, not elaborating.
Tom bursts out laughing. “You had that answer ready awfully quick.”
“What can I say, I’m a cheese girly.”
“I guess that’s my go. Pepper jack is a good answer by the way. I’ll go cheddar. Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?”
Rachel taps her chin as if considering what Tom just said. “Yeah, I could see sharp cheddar. Okay guys sorry they’re motioning behind cameras that we have to speed it up. This is rapid fire and we’ve only answered two questions, sorry!”
“Sorry guys! Okay okay next question. Who is your favorite person to run lines with? Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend.”
“I was gonna say her!” Rachel faces the camera. “You guys, she’s seriously the best person for that. She memorizes lines sooo fast. By the end she won’t need a script to help you and she’ll be able to still correct you if you mess up!”
“What — oh wait I’ve already asked that question,” Tom flips through the cards, “okay here we go. If you could play any other character in the film, who would you play?”
Rachel claps and points at Tom. “We were just talking about this! I’d either want to play your character because I think it would be so fun to kind of switch to the villain. Or Nova May because hello she’s a badass.”
“Do you know what, and I swear I’m not making this up, my answers are the same as yours. either Nova May because I feel like she’s the opposite of Coriolanus in a way. Or Lucy Gray because I love that even after the games, she’s stayed true to who she is and she doesn’t let Coriolanus corrupt her.”
Rachel and Tom chat again as cameras and lights are moved around. They each do 2 questions.
“Okay we’ve each got one more question. Ooh this one’s fun! You’re stuck on a deserted island for a month and can have five things with you, what do you bring? And it says people don’t count,” Rachel thinks for a moment, “you go first because I need to give this some real thought.”
“No people, okay let’s see… my phone, one of those solar power generators so I could plug things in, phone charger, a book, and mini fridge. I’m sure I could cook some things up and be able to save them for later.”
Rachel nods in approval. “I am going to copy your first three things because I think I’d go crazy not being able to at least write out my thoughts in my notes app or something, or record what’s happening on my camera. But for my last two things, a guitar now that I can play, and… oh crap this is harder than I thought. And… a surfboard! If you’re stuck on an island that’s the perfect time to pick up a new hobby.”
“I think we’re finally getting the hang of this, of course right at the end. Oh I have the last question that’s right. Let’s see… what three characters from other shows or films do you think would do well in the Hunger Games?”
“I love that question!” Rachel nearly falls out of her chair. “Definitely someone from Game of Thrones — ooh or House of the Dragon! You know what, Juliette would do really good. A bow and arrow can take you really far in the games and that’s her go-to weapon.”
Tom smiles and blushes once again at the mention of his girlfriend, or at least the character she plays.
Rachel thinks about her last two answers. “Joel Miller from The Last of Us, and Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds.”
“Why Spencer?”
“He’s a literal genius. I bet he’d be able to rig a bunch of traps that no one would suspect and he’d be able to eliminate most of the other tributes without any physical contact.”
“Ahh I didn’t think of that. Hmm also from House of the Dragon, Aemond Targaryen. He’s quite ruthless isn’t he, he’d have no problem getting rid of the other tributes. And also Clint Barton, like you said because a bow and arrow is a really good weapon to have. Also… Uhtred Ragnarsson from The Last Kingdom.”
Someone behind the camera says it’s time to wrap it up.
Tom smiles at the camera, “thank you so much for having us.”
“We hope you enjoyed watching, bye!”
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TOM BLYTH x ACTRESS!READER TAGLIST —
@callsignwidow | @spencerstits | @coconut-dreamz | @daenerysqueenofhearts
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wongyuuu · 3 months
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lens of ice | yjh | one
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pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓
part one | part two (final)
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The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.
Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.
"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"
Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice. 
Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.
"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"
The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.
"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists" 
"When can I have the surgery?"
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You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.
"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"
Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.
"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"
That was enough to get your attention.
"Why?" 
Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.
The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.
"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"
It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.
"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"
Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.
"Well, good luck to you"
"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"
You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.
"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"
"Nothing will change" 
A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.
"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"
Jihoon simply shook his head at you.
"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"
With a salute Jihoon left.
"Fuck"
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You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock. 
"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.
Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.
"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"
Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.
"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"
Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.
"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"
Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.
"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.
A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium. 
And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan? 
"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed" 
Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.
"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"
Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him. 
"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.
With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you. 
"Will you need to film my family?" 
"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life" 
Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.
"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"
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You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so. 
Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.
Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second. 
In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.
And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.
“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.
“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.
“Fine”
“Just fine?”
You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.
“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”
Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.
Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.
Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.
“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.
You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.
“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.
You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.
“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”
“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”
Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.
“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”
“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.
You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.
“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”
The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.
You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.
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You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.
The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.
And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.
Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.
"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.
You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.
You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"
Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.
Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.
Option b was actually the only possible choice.
“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”
Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.
“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.
“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.
You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.
“What if I say something and regret it later?”
It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.
“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.
“Can we throw it all away and start again?”
Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.
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“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"
Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.
“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”
With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.
Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.
“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”
“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”
He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.
“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”
“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”
He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.
“No, the ultimate goal is to win”
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As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.
You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.
“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”
“Hi”
The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.
His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.
“Can we film it?” You asked.
Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.
For Jeonghan, that was never the case.
Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.
Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.
As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.
“You said you would film anything and everything.”
You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.
In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.
“Do you think it’s important?”
You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.
“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”
“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it
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You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.
Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary. 
You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either. 
While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten. 
It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that. 
However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?
You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him. 
It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain. 
Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes. 
"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?"  someone asked. 
You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you. 
"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed. 
"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?" 
"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?" 
"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?" 
The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.
Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him. 
You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head. 
“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried
“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad. 
That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you. 
“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse. 
“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”
By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot. 
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The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake. 
As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.
The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.
Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.
Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.
What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.
You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.
In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.
You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.
Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.
You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.
It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.
"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”
You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.
Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?
There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.
It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.
That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?
Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
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Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling. 
It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua. 
It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments. 
His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little. 
“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.
Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels. 
“I think she will,” Jeonghan said. 
Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit. 
“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”
Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough. 
“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”
“Am I not a real person?”
The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.
“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”
Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment
“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”
Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.
“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”
Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.
“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”
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After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.
Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours. 
The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much. 
It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics. 
And he only had one change left. 
So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted. 
He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to. 
“Are you nervous?” you asked him.
Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because. 
However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring. 
He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself  In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.
“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”
You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.
“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”
He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore. 
Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.
“Do you think I can still do it?”
There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see. 
Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment. 
“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”
You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way. 
Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.
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"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan. 
He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it. 
Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.
"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile. 
"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"
Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin. 
"Come on, humor me"
You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.
"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”
Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.
Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.
Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.
It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.
“Where did you see those pictures?”
“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”
One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.
He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.
“I thought we were getting to know each other”.
Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.
There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.
And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.
Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.
“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.
You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.
“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”
Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”
You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.
In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.
The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.
For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.
You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.
It was become just you and your job.
Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.
“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”
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You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.
He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?
Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.
He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.
Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.
He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.
Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.
“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.
He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.
"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.
Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.
Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.
"I realized I don't know anything about you"
You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.
"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"
He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.
"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"
You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.
At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.
"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.
"Whatever you want to share"
The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.
"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"
You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"
For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.
You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."
You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.
Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.
"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"
You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.
"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"
You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed. 
Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.
So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.
Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.
"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.
Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.
Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.
"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"
Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.
"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"
The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.
You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.
"You have to rest"
You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.
“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”
Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.
Finally, you were alone.
“You have to rest,” you said again.
You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.
“I need to get it right”
"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"
A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.
"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”
You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else. 
“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”
Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours. 
“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”
You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around. 
So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land. 
Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him. 
“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”
Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing. 
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“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.
You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.
Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.
But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.
“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.
You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.
“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”
You saw it and shook your head again.
“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.
Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.
“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”
“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”
You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.
From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.
With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.
He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.
“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”
Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.
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With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,
“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.
Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.
“I won’t let you fall”
The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you. 
You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.
When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink. 
“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”
Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course. 
His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.
“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”
The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.
“I think we should stop here”
You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.
You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.
"I thought that…"
“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.
You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.
But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.
Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.
"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”
You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.
“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”
Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.
You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.
“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”
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okaylikesmomo · 10 months
Text
Photographer Part 1
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“You’re welcome.”
“For what?” you asked, barely even glancing at the folder your coworker and friend just dropped on your desk as you focused on your screen. “Another session you need me to cover for?”
“No, this one is a gift.”
“A gift?” you asked, picking up the folder and taking a look. “So you’re telling me you could take this appointment if you wanted to?”
“Well, not exactly,” your coworker replied while leaning against your desk.
“Of course,” you sighed, putting the folder back down. “I’d love to help you again, but I’m already booked this time around.”
“Hold up, hear me out,” he protested, picking the folder up and holding it out to you again. “You’re right, I can’t make it, but I fought pretty hard to get you this gig.”
“And why did you feel the need to do that?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Because I owe you for last time, take a look at who it is.”
Even though you were still suspicious of his motives, he had your interest. You accepted the folder again and looked more thoroughly.
“Lee Ji-eun, actress?” you read out. ��I’ve told you before, I don’t watch Kdramas.”
“Yeah, but you listen to Kpop.”
“So what? Get me a photoshoot with Eunbi then.”
He looked at you in shock.
“Wait, you really don’t know?” he asked, his mouth agape.
“Don’t know what?” you asked, getting tired of his games.
“You’re really in for a surprise,” he laughed while turning around. “Get there at least an hour early, just in case.”
“I told you, I’m already booked,” you replied infuriatingly.
“I’ve already covered your schedule,” he said while walking away. “Thank me later, and make sure you don’t tell anyone else about this one.”
What made this appointment so special that he would go through the effort to clear your schedule? You shook your head, deciding you’d worry about it later, before turning back to your screen.
Are you there yet?
Even though you weren’t sure why this appointment was such a big deal, you made sure to be an hour early just like he suggested, and you also dressed up nicely to give a nice first impression. You sent him a quick test saying you just arrived before putting your phone away and walking into the building.
There was so much work to be done, you never got around to checking out who this Lee Ji-Eun girl was. Typically, you’d like to do a bit of research about your clients, but you were on track for a promotion and spent all night working on a project that you were certain would get you there.
“You must be the photographer.”
“That’s me,” you replied, handing the lady at the front desk your ID. “Beautiful building by the way.”
“Are you surprised?” the lady laughed while handing the ID back. “Are you a fan?”
“Um, sorta,” you said awkwardly, feeling extra embarrassed that you didn’t do any research. She likely played a role in some new drama that had everyone hooked.
“Just follow the hallway and take a right. The whole third floor is hers.”
It wasn’t unheard of for someone to request an outcall for their shoot, but booking an entire floor for the studio was a bit of a flex. You racked your brain, trying to figure out if you had seen the name before - it did sound a bit familiar.
“You must be the new photographer? I need to see some ID, please,” a security guard approached you as soon as the elevator arrived on the third floor.
“Oh, uh, one second,” you said while stumbling with your bag. “Here you go.”
He accepted the ID and looked you up and down before handing it back to you.
“I see you’ve heard the rumors based on how you dressed,” the guard said while gesturing for you to follow him. “She doesn’t care and just does whatever she feels like, but if she’s going to play her games then I like seeing a bit of effort on your end. Some of the other’s barely try, showing up in sweats and a hoodie.”
“Thank you, sir, we try our best to be very professional.”
He burst out laughing while holding the door to a small room open for you.
“Professional? That’s one way you can describe it,” he said. “Non-disclosure is on the table, give it a sign before anything happens.”
Slightly confused by the comment, you bowed respectfully before walking in and placing your bag down. The room was far more comfortable than most waiting rooms, in fact it didn’t even look like a waiting room - it was more like an office.
There was a luxurious desk with a huge window behind it, bookshelves along both walls, and a large couch on either side of an oversized coffee table. It was a bit strange, usually you’d just be given a little room with a coffee machine and some refreshments.
After admiring the room, you quickly signed the document. Not every shoot required you to sign one, it was somewhat odd now that you think about it, but it would make sense for an actress to require it. You decided it would be a good time to look more into who this girl was, but just as you opened your laptop, there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Hello, I’m-” you began while opening the door before suddenly your heart stopped.
“You are?” she said while chuckling at your reaction with her eyebrows raised.
“You’re IU.”
“Yes, I am,” she said casually while watching your mind go blank. “But I think you were saying who you are, not who I am.”
“B-B-But, you’re IU!”
“We’ve already established that,” she laughed while entering the room and picking up the NDA you had signed earlier. “Perfect, am I safe to assume this is you?”
Speaking wasn’t an option while you stood there like an idiot, barely managing to nod in response to her question. She put the paper back down and walked forward, closing the door from behind you before taking you by your hand towards the empty couch. Her delicate fingers barely touched your hand as she pulled.
“You seem quite shocked to meet me,” she laughed while guiding you to take a seat. “Shouldn’t you have expected it? After all, you’re going to be doing a photoshoot with me aren’t you?”
I’m such an idiot you thought to yourself. Lee Ji-Eun, that was her real name. You had only ever called her by her stage name, but it just now clicked as to why that name sounded familiar.
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I am a huge fan - am I supposed to say that? I bet you get this all the time, I’m-”
“Relax,” IU cut you off while smiling softly.
She took a seat on the couch next to you, her perfect posture leading your eyes to her body. For the first time since meeting her, you properly took notice of what she was wearing. You took a deep breath, in awe at how pretty she was up close.
Her salmon-colored dress fell beautifully down her body, the sheer sleeves giving just enough visibility to keep you intrigued - intoxicated. The little black buttons gave just enough contrast to break the steady hue down to her thighs, where the dress opened up to showcase those slender legs of hers. On the other end, her intricate butterfly necklace framed that unrealistically pretty face beautifully.
“It is an honor to meet you,” you said respectfully, finally finding your voice again.
“Likewise,” IU responded, still smiling in the most comforting and endearing way. “I assume, especially after that reaction, this is your first photoshoot with me? I generally don’t forget my photographers.”
“Yes ma’am, my first time.”
“I know we make you sign an NDA, but have you heard any rumors?” she asked while playing with her hair. “Do you know what usually happens next?”
“My guess is that I’m here to take your pictures,” you replied awkwardly.
“That’s right,” IU giggled, flipping her hair around. “You’re quite adorable.”
IU just called you adorable.
“T-Thank you,” you stammered.
“Before that,” she said softly while placing a gentle hand on your thigh. “I like to give all of my photographers a bit of a thank you.”
“Before the shoot? But I haven’t done anything,” you said, confused by her words. “Surely you mean after?”
She leaned back and tilted her head slightly, as if she was analyzing you in a lab.
“If you did a good job, I planned to thank you afterwards as well,” she said softly, still examining you. “This is so interesting, you’re the first person who has come here without knowing. Assuming you’re not just playing along.”
“With all due respect, without knowing what?” you asked innocently. “Not playing any games, I truly just don’t know.”
She ignored your question and stood up, walking over to the desk and looking out the big window behind it. After a few moments of silence between the two of you, she turned around and spoke firmly.
“Take my picture.”
“Right now?” you clarified, your heart rate elevated by her gaze. “Sure, just give me one second.”
After fumbling around with your shaky hands until you pulled out one of your cameras, you walked up towards IU to get a good angle.
“The lighting is a bit odd because of where the window is, but I think I can make this work.”
She opened her mouth to speak before closing it again and smiling.
“Whatever you think works best,” she said kindly while posing for you.
She was unbelievably pretty. Despite the unoptimized setting, your camera loved her; It felt like every picture was a masterpiece - she was born to be a model. You had her pose in a couple of different ways before giving her full freedom to pose however her heart desired.
“That’s gorgeous,” you muttered, looking at her through your lens. She was showing off her side profile with one leg slightly raised on the desk. “You’re amazing at this.”
“I have some experience,” she commented casually while you took your last few shots. “There, now you took some photos, can I thank you?”
“You’re very welcome,” you said while bowing deeply out of respect. “But I still have many more to take.”
She looked like she was in shock with her mouth slightly opened, her lips curled up in a little smile.
“You’re really not playing games,” she said softly before walking past you. “We’ll start in fifteen minutes, I can’t wait,” she added over her shoulder before leaving the room.
“So, do you pitch for the other team?”
“What? No, why would you ask?” you replied, astonished at the forwardness of the security guard.
“I don’t mean any offense, many photographers are,” he said while squinting his eyes at you. “But if you’re not, then you are the first one I’ve seen who…”
“Who what?”
“Nevermind, it’s none of my business. Come this way, she’s ready.”
This whole situation has been an odd one. Despite being confused out of your mind, you followed the guard across the room, carrying your camera with you. When you arrived at the set, you realized that this whole floor was probably being used to record a scene for a music video or something.
IU smiled politely at you before you got started. Luckily, the rest of the staff seemed to be acting normal, and the shoot went quite smoothly. Working with such an expert of the industry made it incredibly easy - the most difficult part was controlling the inner fanboy inside you.
“You’re doing great,” you said while snapping pictures constantly. “Try to look a bit more pensive.”
“Pensive? Okay,” IU replied before adjusting her expression.
“Perfect! Just turn a little bit more to your left,” you instructed, trying to stay as professional as possible while your heart was beating out of your chest. “Absolutely beautiful, I can feel the melancholy flowing through me.”
She giggled softly before quickly focusing again, controlling her laughter.
“Wait,” you said while looking up from your lens. “I need to see that again.”
“What? A giggle?” IU asked as her lips curled upwards slightly, clearly amused by you.
“That smile is far too pretty to skip.”
“I didn’t realize that was part of this photoshoot,” IU replied, smiling fully with her head tilted slightly.
“When you’re this beautiful, you just have to act naturally,” you said calmly while resuming your barrage of pictures. “It’s my job to try and capture it.”
She laughed openly, allowing you to catch a few stunning shots before she quickly covered her mouth in embarrassment.
“Sorry!”
“Don’t apologize, you have a gorgeous laugh,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes locked on her through the eyepiece of your camera. She truly was stunning, especially when she smiled. “Let’s take a quick five minute break, please.”
While a group of stylists quickly ran up to touch up her makeup and hair, you walked over to a table on the side and poured yourself a glass of water.
“She really likes you.”
As you turned towards the voice, you saw the security guard from earlier next to you.
“I’m sure she’s just being respectful,” you said after taking a sip.
“Trust me, I’ve been working with her for a while, she tells me basically everything,” the guard said while pouring himself a glass as well. “She likes you.”
Well, I’m glad. She’s great to work with, I see why this is such a sought after position.”
He gave you a look of pure confusion before setting down his glass.
“Such a sought after position, yeah,” he said knowingly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened in that room earlier?”
“Before the shoot? She came in and we just talked for a bit,” you answered while refilling your glass. “Oh, and then I took a few pictures.”
“What kind of pictures?”
“Just some casual ones, I think she wanted to see what I could do before the actual shoot started.”
The guard gave you one more bewildered glance before another staff member from across the room called you back over to finish the shoot. The rest of the session went by quickly, there was only one outfit change. Afterwards, you quickly thanked all of the staff and IU personally before heading back to the waiting room to collect your things.
After taking apart your camera, putting on the covers, and packing each lens individually, you were ready to go. You took one last look around the room, thinking about IU leaning against that desk earlier.
“Mind if I come in?” a sweet voice called out to you from behind.
“Oh, of c-course,” you stammered, turning around to observe IU leaning against the open door. “What can I do for you?”
“Do you have a few minutes?” she asked while closing the door behind her, slowly.
Truthfully, you were desperate to get back to the office and finish this report, but there was no chance in hell you would deny IU right now.
“I do,” you lied as IU sat down on the couch.
“Please, join me.”
Your heart could be felt throughout your entire body, each pulse of blood coursing through your vessels. Taking pictures of her for hours didn’t change how nervous you were sitting right next to her, nor did it prepare you for how unbelievably pretty she was in this instant.
The two of you stared at each other for a few moments. Despite it being painfully difficult for you, she kept her gaze locked on you with ease - she was remarkably seductive. It was unclear if she was waiting for you to say something, and you began to sweat slightly as she stared at you. Luckily, she eventually broke the silence.
“You did a great job,” she said softly while keeping her eyes locked on you. “I wanted to personally thank you, again.”
“You’re very welcome, if there’s anything else I can do for you-”
“There is one thing,” she said, finally lowering her gaze. “It’s a very strange request, but could you help me take off my shoes?”
“Your… shoes…?”
“Yes,” she winced while reaching down to her feet. “I’m not trying to be a princess, the buckle is just too tight for me to take off myself.”
“Oh, of course,” you quickly dropped down to your knees in front of her and began working on the straps. She wasn’t lying, they were incredibly tight.
“Thanks,” she sighed, leaning back on the couch while you fiddled with the strap.
Eventually you got both open and slipped the shoes off before gasping in shock.
“Oh my God, are you alright?”
“Much better now,” she said while inhaling sharply as you began to rub the red marks on her feet.
“I can’t believe they made you wear these,” you commented while massaging her feet.
“Life of a celebrity,” she responded with a laugh before moaning out loudly. “Oh that feels so good.”
That sound she made immediately filled your insides with warmth, and you started to get slightly embarrassed. Without thinking, you looked up to see IU leaning her head back in pleasure - but by doing so you also happened to catch a glimpse up her short dress. Your face began to burn up as you quickly looked back down with the vision of IU’s underwear ingrained in your mind.
“You didn’t have to do that,” IU moaned softly while wiggling her feet before standing up. “I really appreciate it, though.”
“I know, it was just my instinct,” you said while trying to avoid eye contact. “I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
Her single finger was placed on your chin as she knelt down next to you and gently turned your face. You started to truly notice how beautiful her eyes were now that you had to gaze right into them. No colorful contacts, just dark and rounded with a faint brown tint. All you could do was wait and pray that she didn't notice how anxious you were at the moment.
“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” she whispered into your face, faintly hitting you with her warm breath, while putting a hand on your shoulder. You had no idea what was going on right now as she delicately pressed into your body with her slender fingers. “Were you uncomfortable?”
“No!” you answered a bit too enthusiastically.
She blessed you with another smile before patting the seat of the couch in front of you. Slowly, you got up off the ground and took a seat, facing IU who was now standing in front of you.
“Your shoulders are quite stiff,” she commented while leaning forward over you and pressing her fingers into your skin again. “You must be under a lot of stress.”
“Oh, yeah, work has been…” you trailed off, trying to find some distraction as this position made it impossible for you to not look down the neck of her dress. “Please, miss-”
“Just call me IU, if you’d like,” she whispered before standing up straight. “Do you mind if I massage your shoulders properly, just a bit?”
“I’ll be fine, you don’t have to do that for me,” you spluttered awkwardly. “I appreciate the offer.”
“I insist,” she said sternly, reviving that deep gaze of hers. “I’ve been learning how to find knots.”
You nodded, almost as a sign of submission, and then gulped, giving her the okay.
“I promise I’m good at this,” she said before casually straddling your lap. “It must be difficult carrying such heavy equipment around all day.”
Part of you wanted to scream. You assumed she would massage you normally, from behind, never in a thousand years would you have predicted her to position herself like this. Slowly, with her hands on your shoulders, she sat down on your lap; it was incredibly embarrassing because you knew she could feel the anticipation in your pants right now.
Not that it was your fault, surely anyone in your situation would be feeling the same way. A massage, a pretty girl on your lap, and your eyes situated perfectly to look down her neckline, these three facts combined meant you had no chance.
Even though she could most likely feel your erection, she ignored it entirely and focused on pressing your shoulders. It just now dawned on you how terrible this would look if someone walked in right now to see IU straddling you. Despite the nervousness coursing through your skin, it actually felt phenomenal.
Not only was IU sitting on your lap a dream come true, she didn’t lie when she said she was good at this. Frankly, she could have been completely useless at giving massages and it wouldn’t have mattered in this situation. Her whole body began to move up and down slightly as she really got into it, her crotch repeatedly bouncing on your lap did not help with the situation in your pants.
“Does that feel good,” she asked with her sultry voice in response to an involuntary moan you had let escape your lips.
“Mhmm,” you moaned again while she pressed all your pains away. “Why are you so good at this?”
“I told you, I’ve been practicing,” she said proudly before hopping off your lap. “I’m glad it’s paying off.”
“It really is,” you commented shyly while placing both your hands on your crotch.
“Is there anywhere else where you feel some tension?” she asked with extra emphasis on that last word, her eyes darting towards your lap. “I’d love to help relieve it.”
“Oh, thank you so much, but I’m alright,” you said shyly, trying your best to cover up.
For a second she looked disappointed, but quickly her beautiful smile returned.
“You are very cute,” she said tenderly before standing up and walking towards the door. “Have a lovely evening.”
After she left the room, your mind began doing backflips. Everything suddenly hit you at once as you sat there on the ground. You just massaged IU’s feet and she moaned. Not to mention that sight which you could not stop thinking about, that sight that would be living in your head for the foreseeable future.
On top of all that, she just called you cute.
“How did it go?!”
“I just finished the report,” you announced proudly, leaning back in your chair and grabbing your mug.
“Fuck the report,” your coworker shouted while slamming his hands down on your desk. “How did you get IU to personally ask for you again?”
“She did?!” you asked in shock, almost spitting out your coffee.
“I can’t believe this,” your coworker sighed heavily.
“Hey, you’re the one who gave me the shoot knowing it was IU of all people.”
“Well I owed you, and I figured in the off chance the rumors are true, you’d enjoy it more than I would,” he laughed while sitting down. “Also, it was my sister’s wedding last night, I couldn't exactly miss that.”
“What rumors?”
“Holy shit you actually don’t know?”
“Man, I feel like everyone knows something that I don’t,” you sighed. “What rumors?”
“Nothing’s confirmed, apparently she makes every photographer sign an NDA-”
“Yeah, I had to sign one, too,” you interjected.
His eyes shot wide open.
“If that part is true… word is that IU likes to personally ‘thank’ her photographers.”
“Yeah, she came in and privately thanked me,” you said, the view of her underwear flashing into your mind again.
“It’s true?!” he shouted before quickly looking around in a panic and whispering. “Sorry, but you have to tell me everything. Hands? Mouth? Some people say she goes all the way, but I don’t believe them for a second.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Bitch stop holding out on me,” your coworker replied angrily. “I might be gay, but I still wanna know.”
“Wait,” you mumbled, everything clicking in your head all of a sudden. “I’m so fucking stupid.”
“Hold on, did you or did you not-”
“I didn’t.”
“Hand?”
“No.”
“Mouth.”
“No.”
He flashed you an expectant look without saying anything.
“No, definitely didn’t do that either,” you answered his unasked question, making him stand up in disbelief. “All I did was massage her feet a bit.”
“Alright wait, that’s something,” he said, immediately sitting back down and leaning over your desk in excitement. “How the hell did you get your hands on her feet?”
“She was very…” you thought about how to word it. “Comfortable?”
“Yeah, clearly, if she let you suck on her toes.”
“I didn’t suck on her toes.”
“It sounds like she wanted you to!” he snapped back. “In what world does a girl casually let you massage her feet?”
“She said her feet hurt,” you mumbled quietly.
“She said her feet hurt,” he mocked you. “Did she also say her pussy hurts and ask for you to massage it too?”
“She also massaged my shoulders,” you muttered under your breath.
“She what?” your friend gasped. “She massaged you as well and you still didn’t get the hint?”
“I thought she was being friendly!”
“Saying ‘thank you' is friendly,” he said angrily. “Putting her hands all over you is three steps past friendly.”
“But she-”
“I can’t believe this,” your friend started pacing back and forth. “The rumors were true, the rumors were true.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before I went?” you sighed while slumping back into your chair.
“Don’t blame me for your stupidity!”
He had a point.
“Wait, we're ignoring something very important,” he continued.
“I’m an idiot who can’t read the most obvious signs ever?”
“Well, that, and also she asked for you again.”
“You’re right!” you gasped, sitting back up in your chair with your eyes wide open. “But what if she’s only asking for me because I didn’t do anything?”
“I guess you’ll find out in two days,” he said while walking towards the door. “I have to get back to work, but I swear if she asks you to lick her foot you better swallow it whole.”
This time around you were far more nervous than when you didn’t know who she was. With extra care taken regarding your presentation, you walked into the building for today’s photoshoot. The man at the front desk directed you to where the shoot would be taking place and you made your way there. As you entered the photoshoot area, the same security guard from the last shoot approached you.
“Wow, two photoshoots in one week, and you didn’t believe me when I said she liked you,” he laughed while guiding you to a little room.
“Maybe she just liked the photos I took,” you suggested awkwardly while playing with the strap of your bag as you walked through the room, seeing IU on the far side surrounded by stylists. There were fewer staff this time around, and the room was considerably smaller.
“We haven’t even seen them yet,” the guard said while opening the door for you, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “Hey buddy, drink some water. It’ll help with your nerves.”
The waiting room was more typical than the last one, but it was still extremely luxurious with plenty of comfortable sitting room. There was a big table on the side and a small window overlooking the neighboring buildings.
“Nothing to sign this time, the one from last session is still valid.”
“Thank you, I’m ready to start whenever,” you said while putting your bag down.
Even though you had plenty of time before the shoot, you couldn’t focus on doing any other work. All you could think about was if IU was going to walk through that door personally again. Time ticked by, and you were starting to lose hope when suddenly the door flung open without a knock.
“Miss, sorry, I mean IU - may I still call you that?”
“Yes, you can call me IU still,” she said while attempting to stifle her cute giggles. “Why are you so flustered? We’ve already become acquainted, haven’t we?” she asked while closing the door behind her.
“Yeah that’s true, we’re basically friends at this point,” you said awkwardly, trying to suppress the urge to confess your love for her.
She gave you a long, thoughtful look as her lips curled into a smile and her adorable dimples were on display. It might have been your mind playing tricks on you, but you could have sworn she licked her lips as she eyed you up and down. Your face began to get warm under her gaze.
“I like you, you’re very cute,” she chuckled before walking up to you and unwrapping the blanket she was wearing off her body. “Since we’re friends, I wanted your opinion on my outfit for today’s shoot.”
“It’s… it’s… wow,” you mumbled while gawking at her beauty.
The outfit was simple, yet so charming. A white shirt with a white skirt, her midriff just peeking out ever so slightly, almost like she was teasing you with her body. The main attraction, however, were her beautiful legs. The skirt was short enough to where you could see her slender legs in their entirety. To top it all off, she had her hair tied up in an adorable ponytail with a purple hair tie.
“You look so beautiful,” you whispered under your breath with your mouth left hanging open afterwards.
“You’re so sweet!” she cheered happily while lunging forward and hugging you. “Thank you for coming again!”
“Any time,” you responded while your senses got overwhelmed by her divine aroma. As if you weren’t already in love with her, she smelled so delectable. “I loved working with you last time.”
“Me as well,” she said kindly with a bright smile after moving back. She glanced down at your lap before giggling softly. “I’ll be waiting for you, come out whenever you’re… ready.”
The photoshoot felt like it only lasted minutes, as the entire time that you were taking her photos all you could think about was how badly you were lusting for her. All that flirting, surely she meant for more to happen. Then again, would a celebrity as big as IU really be willing to do something like that with a random photographer that she just met? But why would she even flirt to begin with?
The internal battle raged in your head throughout the shoot. What did she really want? Maybe she just liked teasing - but all of those rumors, what if they’re true. Was there a chance IU would actually touch you? She already touched you, that hug wasn’t any normal hug; Unless you’re being delusional, in that case she really was just being friendly.
“Can you turn, put your legs on the other side please,” you instructed IU.
She nodded before tossing her legs across her body. In doing so, she very clearly gave you a view up her short skirt, flashing her light pink panties in your direction. You froze, being reminded of the last time you got a glimpse of her underwear.
“Is this not what you wanted?”
“Oh no, it’s perfect,” you answered, snapping out of your trance.
The photoshoot went on for a bit longer, and you had IU keep switching up the positions. Almost as if to confirm your suspicions, she put on a whole show each time - making sure to flash those pink panties into your view each and every time.
“We’re five minutes overtime, but if you need to continue it’s no issue,” one of her staff members informed you.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry, lost track of time,” you responded before quickly putting the camera down. “I believe I have what I need, thank you again.”
Casual chatter filled the area as you made your way back to the little room. You began to pack your bag, as slowly as possible in the hopes that there would be a knock on the door. You were willing to accept any excuse - any delay - as you began to wipe your lenses with a microfiber cloth. Then it happened: That knock you craved so badly.
“Please come in.”
“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” IU peeked her head through the door.
“No! Please, I was just waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me?” she smirked, this time locking the door behind her.
It took her only two lines to get you all flustered, forcing your next slurry of words to become an incoherent mess.
“I just don’t… thank you… I was leaving soon.” you stammered, having the sense to put your camera down before you dropped it.
She walked right up in front of you, wearing a kind expression, and grabbed your hands.
“Is everything okay? Your hands are shaking,” she noted, rubbing your fingers up and down.
“Oh no I’m great, how are you?”
She chuckled softly, giving your hands a quick squeeze before letting go.
“Would you like to just chat for a bit? Unless you’re in a rush, of course.”
“No rush at all!”
“Mind if I get a bit more comfortable then?” she chuckled softly, knowing that she had full control over you right now.
“By all means, do you need help with your shoes again?”
“I think I’ll be fine this time, thank you,” she laughed openly.
She turned around before she began to very slowly bend over at her hips. Slowly, lower and lower she went - this time there was literally zero chance you’d miss this hint. Especially when she made it all the way down and started taking her shoes off, as this was the best angle up her skirt.
Those light pink panties she flashed at you earlier were gone - replaced by nothing. Even though you could barely see, you were completely hard now; hiding your excitement would be impossible. The pressure kept building up as IU faked a struggle with her shoes, grunting and moaning until they finally slipped off.
“Oh that feels good,” she moaned as she stood back up straight and turned to face you. “I enjoy dressing up for photoshoots, but taking it all off feels so good.”
“Yeah, I bet,” you stuttered as she began walking towards you.
“Being a celebrity can be so… hard,” she whispered right in front of you, pausing to look down for that last word. “Mind if I show you something?”
Before you could answer, she put one foot up on the couch next to you. Her skirt rode up her thigh, giving you the most jaw-dropping view. It was straight out of a dream, you could literally see IU’s pussy right now - and she knew it, too.
“Look at this bruise I got,” she said casually, pointing at her knee. She knew very well that you could clearly see her private bits, there was no chance that she didn’t know, but she pretended not to notice. “I don’t even know where it came from, I find random bruises all over my legs after busy schedules.”
“Yeah, that must… that must be… really… painful…” you faltered, attempted to make coherent sentences while absolutely failing to avoid staring.
“Can I ask another favor, since you’re my friend?” IU asked sweetly while putting one of her hands on the back of your head. “Could you kiss it better?”
You licked your lips carelessly and leaned in to place your mouth against her knee. As soon as your lips contacted her skin, she began to moan softly. Thanks to her lovely voice, even her moans sounded like music to your ears. While your eyes remained fixed up her skirt, you continued to kiss her, essentially making out with her leg.
“Oh yeah that feels so much better,” she moaned softly. “If you don’t mind, the inside of my thigh….”
This was unreal. IU was giving you permission to lick her legs freely: You knew there were no bruises. You got straight to work, kissing the insides of her leg - daring to go higher and higher with each kiss. She was squeezing your hair, but she never pulled back as you got closer and closer. At this point, it would only take a short plunge and you would have found yourself with your mouth against IU’s pussy.
You paused, your face close enough to notice the faint shine of her wetness. Your mind was begging for you to get closer, but you lacked the audacity to physically comply. For now, at least, you were satisfied with rubbing your tongue all over her inner thigh.
“Ah!” she cried out. “I’m sorry!”
It happened so fast, you were left in shock. One second you were admiring her thighs, the next second she had fallen forward - pressing her pussy directly onto your face. There was no doubt this was intentional, this had to be her way of giving you consent. You opened your mouth wide, accepting the sudden change of events as she began to grind on your mouth for a brief moment before backing up.
“I lost my balance,” she joked, quickly fixing her skirt, pretending to be flustered.
It took some time to get over the shock of having IU press her pussy to your tongue. She was so soft, just a bit wet, and driving you insane. You only made contact for a few seconds, yet your mind was starved for more - you needed more.
“Please, lose it again.”
She burst out laughing, dropping the act temporarily before recovering.
“Thanks for that, I feel so much better now,” she whispered, her eyes locked on your crotch. “Allow me to repay you?”
This time there would be no hesitation, no politeness; If IU wanted to touch your body, she had an all-access pass. You slid your hips forward slightly, slumping down into the couch. When she saw your enthusiasm, the corners of her lips curled up in delight.
“Finally you’re done making this difficult,” she whispered under her breath while dropping to her knees before you.
“I just wanted to give you some more massage practice,” you replied casually, trying to control your heartbeat. “Free of charge.”
“Well aren’t you a gentlemen,” she smirked up at you while fiddling with your buckle before turning her full attention to your crotch. Inch by inch, she lowered your pants all the way down to your ankles, leaving you with the bulge in your underwear staring IU in the face.
“Look at all this tension,” she moaned softly, bringing up fingers up to your underwear and outlining your cock with two fingers. “You’re all swollen.”
Despite wanting to flirt back, play her game, you found yourself incapable. With just two of those delicate fingers of hers, she began stroking you through the thin fabric. While toying with your cock, she leaned forward and puckered her lips before gently pressing them against your tip - this was when you truly realized this was happening.
“Please,” you begged, reaching for your waistband.
“Tsk tsk,” IU slapped your hand away. “Your job is to relax, let me do the work.”
She ran one finger up the underside of your shaft, pressing down firmly. Just the single finger, she moved it up and down, toying with you. When the teasing was starting to become too much, she reached up and hooked the top of your underwear with her finger. She pulled the fabric back, just far enough to expose your stiff cock, before letting it snap back to your skin.
Her eyes were taunting you, smirking while she watched your squirm. Your attention wouldn’t leave her lips. Those pretty, delectable lips, you needed them on your cock. Ideas flashed through your mind as you watched IU lick her lips, but you couldn’t act on any of them - yet.
“Can I remove your underwear?” IU teased, knowing it was the only thing you wanted right now.
After your enthusiastic nods, she took hold of the garment. In one very swift motion, she yanked the underwear down to your ankles, flinging your cock up straight towards the roof. As much as you wanted to make some cheeky comment, something to lighten the mood, IU gave you no opportunity as she immediately leaned forward and put your cock into that beautiful mouth of hers.
“Oh!” you gasped, briefly closing your eyes before realizing that missing this view was not an option.
Evidently, there was no more time to be spent because IU immediately started working your cock. Her lips moved up and down on your shaft while creating a tight seal. As her lips rubbed against each nerve in your shaft, her cheeks became completely hollow. It felt amazing.
She was unrealistically beautiful with a cock in her mouth. All of those pictures you took had absolutely nothing on this - the perfect face for sucking dick. Her expertise was clear as she started to look up at you, maintaining eye contact while your length repeatedly disappeared through her lips. You could feel your climax rapidly approaching when she released your cock.
“Does that feel good?” she asked casually as her hand temporarily replaced her lips.
“Good is…” you moaned softly, “an understatement.”
Her bright smile combined with the gentle strokes of her hand were making your cock twitch, but you weren’t read to cum just yet. This whole situation had made you more daring, more willing to push your limits, yet coherent sentences were still sometimes a struggle.
“Can I…” you groaned, her hand never giving your cock a break. “Please?”
“Can you what?” she chuckled, planting a quick kiss on your cock before smiling up at you with a confused expression.
Instead of attempting to speak again, you reached forward with both hands and pulled IU up. She followed your lead, still looking somewhat confused, when you pulled her onto your lap.
“The confidence,” she gasped before slowly grinding her hips on your crotch. Her wet pussy making direct contact with your saliva-coated cock. “I’ve never gone this far, what makes you special?”
“You tell me,” you whispered into her face while bringing your hands up the back of her skirt, planting them on her ass. “You’re the one who called me back.”
“That’s true,” she whispered back. Then she leant forward, right up in front of your face, and playfully bit your lower lip. “If you really want it, then take it.”
Ignoring the metallic taste in your mouth, you quickly moved one of your hands off her ass. You snaked it between her legs, feeling for your cock. With the base in your hand, you began to rub your tip against her folds.
“Put it in before I change my mind,” she begged softly into your face, her eyes angry yet compassionate.
You aligned your cock with her entrance while keeping your eyes fixed on each other. She slowly lowered herself upon you as her mouth gaped in delight. Your other hand squeezed down on her ass as she descended deeper down your cock, her pussy gripping even harder than her mouth was only moments ago.
Her pussy held your cock so tightly that it was initially challenging to move - arguably impossible. You gave IU some time to adjust before giving your hips a little pump to gauge her response; She gasped sharply, before taking control of her own movement. Slowly and delicately, she began to move up and down - relishing every inch of your cock inside her.
Now that she was really into it, she started to sweat. Her face screwed up in pleasure as your cock penetrated her deeply, and that seductive gaze she wore so expertly was no longer present. Your enthusiasm mirrored hers, and as she glided down, you softly pushed your hips deeper into her tight pussy.
“I’m getting…” you panted before leaning forward closer to her body, pulling your hands out of her skirt and embracing her back.
“On my face,” she whispered, her fingers running through your hair, pressing your face harder against her chest. “Tell me when,” she added with a soft moan.
You were straining to hold on while utterly out of breath from the panting and grunting. With how tight her pussy was, it was clear that you wouldn't last for much longer. While holding IU in your arms, you mustered your remaining strength and started pushing your hips up as quickly and forcefully as you could.
“Now!” you cried out into her chest when the pressure was too much.
She quickly leaped from your lap, leaving your cock twitching and poised to blow at the slightest touch. She was too swift for you when you attempted to grab it on your own, using her soft fingers to stroke you as she dropped into position. Your cock started spraying white lines before her knees even managed to make contact with the floor.
“Ah!” she squealed as she got onto the floor, her hand gently pumping your cock as it blasted your cum onto her.
There was a lot. IU’s entire forehead was painted white, the enthusiasm in your crotch launching your cum harder than you could have ever imagined. Ignoring the first couple that missed completely, each splatter on her face made her recoil just slightly, her eyes shut tight.
“Wow,” she mumbled, using her pinky finger to wipe the corners of her eyes before opening them.
Even though you wanted to say something, you were too winded to even attempt. You settled with watching as she walked over to grab some tissues off the desk, first wiping her hand and then bringing the entire box over to the couch where she sat next to you.
“That was a lot of cum,” she said casually while starting to wipe it from her face.
“Sorry,” you panted, starting to slowly recover.
“Don’t apologize,” she laughed, handing you a tissue as well. “It just means you liked the massage.”
“Why did you…?” you asked as you sat up straight and began wiping yourself off.
“Just as a thank you for the amazing shoot,” she answered.
“But you asked for me specially.”
She turned to face you, cum still all over her face.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You’re cute.”
Her comment made you shy, and also made you very aware of your pants still being around your ankles. You awkwardly bent forward and pulled them up before reaching for your bag and pulling out a wet wipe which you gave to IU.
“Always the sweetheart,” she said kindly while accepting the wipe. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”
“Oh, well, since you like me and all that, maybe I can become your regular photographer?” you suggested hopefully. “We’re still friends, right?”
She leaned towards you and kissed your cheek.
“Sure, but next time maybe I’ll just let you finish inside,” she giggled. “This was way too messy.”
---
A/N:
I wonder how many people could have predicted an IU fic. I'll admit, even I wouldn't have predicted this a week ago, yet here we are with a random 8k words release. Please pardon any mistakes!
Hopefully you guys like it, I wrote it fairly quickly. Special thanks to @capslocked for doing a preread, and @turtleturbulence for helping me pick a cover picture (also for elevating my IU mood lately)!
At this point I have a few more idols I want to write short little one-shots for, but I also have a lot of motivation to work on my Dating Seraphs series. Expect updates soon, I have a lot of writing inspiration at the moment!
1K notes · View notes
essentiallyleaf · 8 months
Text
day 03. wall sex. with. winter.
1113 words.
tags.
kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, dom(?) reader, sub girlfriend winter, making out, daddy kink, wall sex, lift and carry, standing doggy, semi-public sex, a smidge of size kink, barely edited, actually about as long as i expected this time.
notes.
honestly, not that much to say. oh right, i don’t actually know if a wall sex kink/fetish actually exists, which is perhaps not a minor concern for a kinktober piece. so if it really does, let me know, and if it doesn't, help me make it a thing and specifically winto’s thing. solidly, leaf.
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You step between her legs, hanging slightly parted off the counter as she sits on it. She’s still staring at the window to her left, so you caress her cheek and redirect her chin towards you, trying to fish something out of the sea blue colored contacts Winter wears on her eyes. You love that color on her. You kiss her lips softly, they’re slightly wet. Your mouths detach as you bring a second hand between her jaw and her neck.
The only thing that comes off your hook is lust.
So you kiss your girlfriend again, this time longer and deeper; you feel her tongue brush your lips, so you retaliate with yours. It starts as a little game, taking turns exploring each other’s mouths, but the longer it goes, the longer you feel her trying to take more space past your entrance, so you let her in.
That’s how it is with her: she only needs to ask. “Can we go to the animal shelter tomorrow?”; “Can I read manga with you while we’re on the train?”; “Can you get me that cute black one piece over there?” (That’s when you bought her the dress she’s wearing right now. And it’s not cute. On her, combined with that messy bun and those fishnets, it looks fucking filthy). Then, the magic word. They always taught you it was “Please”, but really, it’s what comes after: “Daddy?”
That’s why when she grabs the collar of your leather jacket to pull you towards her, when she wraps her arms and legs around you like she needs you, like she’s a koala that needs to make sure it won’t fall from its tree while sleeping, you give in. Because there’s no one else that can grant Winter’s wishes like you do, just like there’s no one else that needs you as much as Winter does.
Which takes on an extremely carnal meaning as you lift her from the counter and turn around, your hands on her ass and your forearms supporting her thighs. She’s so tiny and light, you don’t need all that support, but you want to feel her every inch of her body on yours.
You wander through a couple rooms, looking for a bedroom in the enormous maze-like mansion. Given the handicap of having Winter kiss you the whole way through and of barely being able to keep your eyes open because of that, it’s a miracle that you don’t slam into a doorframe or trip on a carpet in the process. Then, her impatience takes over.
“Let’s do it here”
You look around the room, puzzled. It looks like some kind of library, though at least one third of the shelves of the old-fashioned white carved bookcases is almost empty. “Where?”
Your girlfriend stretches her arm towards the wall behind her, palming it as if trying to get a grasp of its texture.
“Isn’t this good enough,” she knows she can’t get it so easily, but she also knows the most direct shortcut, “Daddy?”
She doesn’t need an answer. She needs you to slam her into the wall, pull her little slutty black one piece up to her waist and her thin, almost see through black panties to the side, rip those fishnets apart and fuck her. As you find out, she also doesn’t need any foreplay, her slit and crotch already wet just from the prolonged make-out session, which finally comes to end as you switch from her mouth to the junction of her neck and shoulder.
You kiss, lick, and suck the same spot over and over for several minutes as you pump into her with feral instinct, her hand now gripping your hair tightly; she even pulls on it a little - it hurts, but that’s not your biggest priority right now. You need to mark Winter as yours, she’s your girlfriend, your (this exact moment, a little less) soft, sweet fluffball, she’s your tiny fuckdoll. And as such you shall use her.
Thrust upwards into her like that’s what she was built for, like there’s nothing stopping you. Meanwhile, the only thing stopping her is the wall behind her, which feels cold on her nape and asscheeks, stark contrast with her boiling hot clavicle and pussy.
“I’m gonna cum, daddy”
It’s not a request this time. It’s a factual statement. She orgasms silently, so overwhelmed by the bursts of pleasure flowing from her pussy to her brain to what feels like every inch of her body, that she simply goes limp. Fortunately, you and the wall are there to hold her.
It takes her a good couple minutes to even be able to feel the world around her, past the overpowering signals coming from her own body. That’s enough for you to ask her:
“Now, I’m gonna need you to hold onto that wall, just for a little bit longer, okay? Can you do that for Daddy?”
You wouldn’t be able to tell from her still dazed face, but as she lowers her legs and tries her very best to stand up, you know Winter understood perfectly, and this is her “Yes, daddy”.
She looks so precious as you hold her hips up and help her turn around, her palms on the wall, fingers tensing like she’s trying to find something to grip onto. So precious that you just wrap your arms all around her waist as you split her tight slit open for a second time and start shoving yourself in and out of her repeatedly.
You know you can’t last long, so you try to get your girlfriend to a second high, though you don’t know if she can even feel much given her state. You turn her head to the side to kiss her again and you reach towards one of her little boobs and start groping her, first through, then inside her daddy’s girl dress.
It’s when your other hand presses upon her clit that she completely loses it. She lets out a sequence of animalistic guttural moans you never heard from her, and watery liquid starts gushing on your cock and out of her pussy while her walls clench rhythmically. The combined pressure of the two triggers your own orgasm, as you deposit buckets of white honey into her womb until she can’t take any more and semen drips out of her pussy and onto the floor.
You hold Winter tightly, almost squeezing her against the wall as her knees threaten to give up completely; you kiss her temple repeatedly as she pants heavily.
“How are we gonna go back downstairs for the party?”
“You can carry me for a while! Please, daddy?”
-
footnotes.
wow i think i actually wrote different characters this time. this one was a little crammed, but i’m pretty satisfied with the end result. it feels like i’m slowly finding out which things i like writing more and which less and more generally about my identity as a writer. i’m still a sprout, but i think i’m learning a lot. sorry if i bored you and you’re now asleep and somehow still reading. do let me know how to do that! dreamily, leaf.
938 notes · View notes
imminent-danger-came · 11 months
Text
Sun Wukong Knew About MK the Whole Time: A Theory
I am currently hyped up on leftovers and iced coffee, so let's do this!
I've talked about this before, here and here, but I think it's finally time I wrote an official post. You can go and read those posts if you want to (I definitely hit the nail on the head with some of this stuff), but I will be compiling a lot of what I said on those posts here!
So. Let's get the Mr. Elephant out of the room first: The David Breen Tweets. (thread here).
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I see this tweet mentioned a lot whenever I bring up SWK knowing about MK, and honestly, this is a far cry from the "it's been confirmed that SWK didn't know" definite answer everyone's been implying.
So let's break it down!
#1: "Monkey King ain't the father"/"Monkey King isn't his dad." Well of course! Being born from a stone means you don't have any parents. I see it like this: Wukong isn't MK's dad, but he's also not NOT MK's dad, it's a secret third thing (creator and creation). Or, perhaps Wukong didn't help create MK at all, but he at the very least was involved in the circumstances that lead to MK being created/being born from the stone. (Aka eldritch abomination MK theory. My Beloved. Okay sorry.)
#2: "Monkey King was ripping his way through memories looking for MK, but kept coming back to the stone. He doesn't know why." So, while Wukong was ripping through memories, he didn't know why the scroll kept spitting him out by the stone. This is not a confirmation that Wukong didn't know about MK and his origins. It also begs the question: how did Wukong know MK was in the scroll to begin with? There's also some speculation to be had about why Wukong was so desperate to find MK to begin with:
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MK: "Monkey King did this?" Macaque: "It looks like he's been tearing his way through his past—trying to find his way to.." MK: "Me."
(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)
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What was he so afraid of MK finding? Or, what was he afraid the scroll would force MK to experience? I think these are questions worth asking.
#3: "Wukong's trying real hard to leave the 'not being open with MK' days behind after s3. Problem is he's got lifetimes of info to catch them up on." Well, this one is a DOOZIE. One: we already know MK doesn't know everything about Wukong and his choices because he doesn't know Wukong killed Macaque (thank you 4x11). Two: "trying real hard" and "successfully doing" are very different things. And three: YOU DON'T JUST DROP INFO LIKE "Hey, did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" ON TOP OF SOMEONE RANDOMLY. Especially not MK. You have to prepare them for it.
Wukong is trying to do better and be better for everyone around him, but that still takes work. That still isn't easy. He's still going to make mistakes, which means he's not going to always go about being open with MK in the best way.
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Sun Wukong: “Point is, mistakes happen, but so long as you leave the world in better shape than you found it, then it’s all good. Right?”
(4x01 Familiar Tales)
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This scene—to me—feels like Wukong is trying prepare MK for his eventual "Hey did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" conversation he wants (and needs) to have down the line. Yes, SWK is trying to be more open with MK, but he's also just not going to be given that chance before the truth comes out.
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MK: "Yeah right, if Monkey King really was my dad don't you think he would have said something by now?" Mei: "Yeah...because he's normally SOOOOO forth coming with information." MK: "Well uh, whatever—when we find Monkey King's stone, then we'll just ask him!"
(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)
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Notice how they never asked Monkey King that question? From a writing standpoint, why bring this up at all if it wasn't to imply that (even if Monkey King isn't MK's dad) he wasn't involved with MK's creation in some way?
ANYWAYS.
NOW THAT THE BREEN TWEET THAT HAS RUINED MY LIFE IS OUT OF THE WAY, let's get into the evidence given to us throughout the entirety of the show. Starting with this:
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This isn't a scene that takes place during the "A Hero is Born" special, as I'm sure plenty of people have noticed before now. Of course, this could have just been Monkey King "scouting out a successor", but with everything we know now doesn't that...feel kinda weird?
We were told at the beginning of the show that Monkey King gave MK his powers, but now we know that's not true. MK has had his own powers this whole time—and that's something Wukong, at the very least, knew:
Sun Wukong: "Listen kid: You fought demons, and you didn't die, and you made it here! Not just anyone can lift my staff, but you did." (1x00 A Hero is Born)
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MK: "This whole time, I thought my powers came from the staff! Sun Wukong: "The staff's just a big 'ol stick bud! It takes someone special to lift it." (3x03 Smartie Kid)
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There's also 1x09 Macaque, which I have mentioned before:
Macaque: "Ohohoh no, can't you hold the magic staff anymore? Well, you know what that means—there really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick."
This scene is then followed by MK lifting the staff, which only happens because Wukong encourages him.
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MK: "Ugh, I can't! I'm not strong enough." Sun Wukong: "Kid! We're definitely going to have words later, but it's time for the Hero Stuff!"
(1x09 Macaque)
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Ultimately, Wukong knows MK can lift the staff again even after Macaque supposedly stole all of MK's powers. He knows MK can beat DBK (more on that later). He does something similar to all this in 3x14, being the one to let MK face the Lady Bone Demon, powered by the Samadhi fire, alone (even after Pigsy tries to stop MK):
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Wukong want's to protect MK. That's why he went to face the Lady Bone Demon alone in the first place—but here, he let's MK stop the end of the world all by himself. Why would he let his beloved student face not only LBD, but a reality ending flame alone?
Because he knows how much power MK has. Because he knows MK is capable of doing it.
This all brings me to my main point: If before now we were supposed to believe that Monkey King gave MK his powers, and he so clearly didn't, how would Wukong not know he didn't give MK powers. And because he clearly knew he didn't give MK any powers, why would he not question where this kid's insane level of power came from? He had to have "chosen" MK to be his successor for a reason right?
ESPECIALLY because Wukong never planned on being a mentor in the first place:
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Sun Wukong: "I know I can never make it up to you. Honestly, I- I never thought I'd live as long as I have let alone be someone's mentor—turns out I'm not very good at it. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry MK. For all of it."
(3x14 Destiny Fulfilled)
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This was also alluded to in 3x05 Amnesia Rules:
Pigsy: "Of COURSE you don't remember the kid—one day you are going to grow up to be a terrible mentor!" Sun Wukong: "Ha! Zhu Bajie, can you imagine me teaching someone? HA!"
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So, Wukong clearly didn't ever want to become a mentor, and this directly contradicts what Wukong says to MK in "A Hero is Born":
Sun Wukong: "You're perfect!" MK: "Perfect for what?" Sun Wukong: "To be...my successor!"
Honestly, think about it: has Wukong ever once actually needed a successor? When given the opportunity, he goes off and tries to handle things on his own anyways (Leaving in s2, wanting to go and reforge the Samadhi Fire on his own, going to stop LBD alone). It's the classic "we're being told one thing and shown another" trick.
Sun Wukong: "No no no- in case you forgot I'M retired, you're the one supposed to be taking care of the bad guys." (1x01 Bad Weather)
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Even in 2x01 he's lying:
Sun Wukong: "Aw, come on bud! I promised myself that when I found a successor I'd go see some friends, take a tour of my old stomping grounds, just cut loose you know?" (2x01 Sleep bug)
It's proven in the next episode, and by the fact that all of his friends are dead/gone, that literally nothing he said here is true.
And, it's also note worthy to point out, that by this point Wukong had already disappeared for hundreds of years. Why step in again at all? Why put the effort into getting a successor you definitely were never prepared to have?
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MK: "*sigh* You think Monkey King ever felt like this? Maybe that's why he stayed up on this mountain, just having a good time with you guys. You know cause- cause he knew he'd be out of the way where he couldn't hurt anyone he cared about." Macaque: "Or, he was doing his usual Wukong thing and being a lazy peach eating idiot. Ignoring all the worlds problems.
(4x09 Roast of the Monkie Kids)
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So, I don't know about you, but I'm going to trust Macaque's insight on this. I'm not sure Wukong ever planned on coming back. Sealing DBK, he effectively cut off one of his last ties to the world (please go read wlw-wukong's thoughts, they are delightful), and he had already left the world alone for a long time. Why did he feel the need to train a successor now?
The simple answer is this: because he knew he needed to train MK and teach him to control his powers, and DBK's return was the perfect way to do it.
NOW. THE S4 MK VISIONS.
So, the visions MK see's all through out s4 (4x03, 4x04, 4x05, 4x06) are of Wukong ripping through the scroll and going to the stone—David Breen confirmed that himself in the above tweets.
Here's a list of what we see:
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(4x03 The Great Tang Man)
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(4x04 Pig Napped)
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(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)
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These are what I would say are the visions of Sun Wukong trying to find MK in the scroll. Yet, they are distinctly different from what Subodhi presses MK to remember ("Tell me of your childhood, your parents." "You do not remember?" "And what else?"):
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(4x06 Show Me the Monster)
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Look at that difference!
Every vision MK has includes the same scenes, except this one. That's why I think it's a memory; that and the way it's framed, with MK closing his eyes in focus. The other visions from 4x03, 4x04, and 4x05 all are unprompted, being forced upon MK. Why make this last "vision" so different from the others? Why show our mystery lady making the stone monkey? That would be because it's a memory—be it MK's, something from the scroll, or a mix of both.
There's also the matter of like, why Wukong going to the stone would trigger any sort of vision in MK to begin with. Overall, it just seems like there something more to those visions.
This would be how I imagine the general timeline playing out:
MK is created (through help of Sun Wukong), a beautiful baby boy pops out of the stone, and Sun Wukong "loses" that beautiful boy (if Wukong knew he was born to begin with) with MK finding his way to Pigsy's.
Then it's later Sun Wukong finds MK again, coming up with a plan to make MK his "successor" (still leaving MK with Pigsy, which I think was the right call lol). As Wukong says in 4x01, "You make ONE mistake, and no one ever let's you live it down! Looks like the ghosts of my past have finally caught up with me." That's what I think this parallel in particular is really trying to show off—in some way, MK is part of his past mistakes, just like Macaque is.
AND SO. I WILL CLOSE OFF THIS THEORY POST WITH EVERYTHING WE LEARNED IN THE SPECIAL.
Sun Wukong: "Heh, nothing gets under his skin more than a monkey. Leave Azure to MK and me."
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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Sun Wukong: "Kinda embarrassing for the Jade Emperor to have two little cheeky monkeys running circles around him the first day on the job." MK: "Well, one monkey and one unconfirmed, but *laughs* yeah! I'd be embarrassed for sure!"
(4x13 Rip and Tear)
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Wukong sounds suspiciously confident that MK is a monkey.
Not even MK is sure what he is (which he's probably just in denial, but also "Until I know what I am, what my destiny is?" from 4x08 anyone?), but Sun Wukong is extremely certain about what MK is.
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Sun Wukong: "We got this bud. Would have liked to give you some new training with your monkey form, but-" MK: "Oh yeah yeah yeah- uh um- about that— um. I- I was thinking, I've never really needed a scary new monkey form before, so, I just thought maybe I'd use it next time." Sun Wukong: "Next time? Kid, there might not be a next time! This is the time."
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MK: "It's be fine! Mei and I have got this awesome new armor and everything! You know, when we look this good? Ain't nothing gonna beat us." Sun Wukong: "Kid. New armor isn't going to cut it! We have to hit Azure with everything we've got! You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!"
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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If the writers were trying to highlight the fact that Wukong didn't know, this scene would have gone very differently. Instead of "You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!" I think it would have been more along the lines of "I know this is new for all of us, but you've got to accept this part of your power!".
Even this exchange at the end of the special raises some alarm bells for me:
Pigsy: "Heh, don't bother. I've been telling him that for years but he LITERALLY never listens." Sun Wukong: "Yep! That's how we roll."
(4x14 Better Than We Found It)
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That's how "we" roll? As in him and MK, as two monkeys? Again, Wukong is surprisingly chill and okay with this new form for someone whose first interaction with it was supposedly this:
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MK, writhing on the ground in pain, completely destroying the world around him, and unable to control his powers.
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Sun Wukong: "Yeah! Go MK, go! Just try not to totally wreck up my stuff would ya-"
(4x13 Rip and Tear)
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Overall, it gives me the impression that Wukong already knew what MK was before 4x07. This new form didn't scare him because he always knew that's what MK was. MK, to Wukong, is MK! And MK has always been a Monkey Demon. He has unshakeable faith in his protege, and even while MK is absolutely tearing up the world around flower fruit mountain he can't help but cheer for him.
After all, Wukong knows MK is the only one who could defeat Azure:
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MK: "Ne Zha's right—while Azure has the Jade Emperor's power and the scroll, there's NO way we could beat him head on!" Sun Wukong: "I mean, some of us could beat him! *ahem* One of us, specifically-" MK: "Nope! None of us at all."
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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"But Imp!" I hear you say, "Wukong was talking about himself here!". To which I would reply, that's not true! This scene is right after Wukong has already said he only almost beat the Jade Emperor:
Sun Wukong: "But don't worry—I almost beat the Jade Emperor single handed once! Between both of us, Azure doesn't stand a chance." (4x12 The Plan Man)
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Between this and Wukong's pre-fight convo with MK ("We have to hit Azure with everything we've got!"), he's clearly banking on MK using the full extent of his powers to win this fight. Wukong isn't banking on his own—if he were, he would never have left MK to go and collect the scroll pieces during their fight with Azure.
Conclusion
Sun Wukong knew MK was a monkey the whole time, lol—and fate has plans for MK. Great plans, or foul? Time will tell.
And Wukong has done his best to ensure that those plans are great.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months
Text
Exchanged clothes [S. R] Bolinus brandaris part. 2
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 4.6k
part 1
summary: a small act of kindness leads to a rather peculiar confession
A/N: Okaay, some people showed interest in a sequel to this and I thought I'd do it, I hope you like it enough. Oh and we are still with baby Spencer, later I will write about the second and third seasons (and as I progress in the series, lol)
taglist: @the-ginger-draws @skievers @c-m-stuff
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The days passed, the cases continued, and the level of trust in the friendship between you and Reid only grew. Working at The Behavioral Analysis Unit was complicated and exhausting in many ways, which sometimes made you wonder how he managed to put up with all that, because, although you weren’t an old woman, you did have two years more experience compared to him. It's also not like it was your fault that he was a genius and he went to work for the FBI at an extraordinary age. So every time something happened, you were there for him and he was there for you. The whole team really cared about the two of you (and JJ, the third youngest) while still trusting in your abilities to face challenges. And just like in a family, everyone could also notice the existing tension between you and the doctor, because although, at least on your part, the feelings had been there for a long time, they had become more obvious to the rest since of the trip to Miami.
"Good morning" you had greeted part of the team that day, a few weeks after the trip, more energetic than the others would have expected. Neither Hotch nor Gideon were around, for obvious reasons, so it was only when you passed Reid's desk that you stopped, running your hand affectionately through his hair “Hey, Doc.”
"Hello," he responded immediately. Spencer didn't like it when his hair got messy, but he could take it if it was you, just as he could take your constant hugs or the drawings you sometimes made on his hand when you were bored during meetings. Of everything that happened between you, little managed to bother him, almost as if the interactions he avoided with others were something natural with you around.
Although he had stopped wearing his scarf daily, he still wore it at least once a week as a reminder of how special it was to him, and fortunately that day was the chosen one.
“Do we have a case? Or do I just bury my nose in these reports?” you muttered to the others, but they denied "What of that do you say no to?"
"Today they will be documents" JJ spoke kindly.
"Why do I have so many?"
“Because I passed you some of mine,” Morgan sneered and you gasped, completely offended. You whispered something accusatory in his direction that made Spencer laugh from the next desk, and then he reached over to take just under half the folders.
"I will help you"
"Oh no, no, Reid. It's okay,” you said, your voice softening noticeably, as you placed your hands over his to try to stop him.
"It's nothing, I'll finish them in a jiffy"
"Why don't you ever offer to help me, huh?"
“You manage pretty well on your own,” Spencer teased at your friend, now making you laugh. You still had your hands on his under the excuse of collecting your reports and, perhaps unconsciously, both of you postponed the moment for another few seconds, looking into your eyes with a small smile until he finally managed to keep the material that he had stolen from your desk.
"Thank you," you said, so softly that only he could hear you.
Looking at your coworker had already become something of an obsession. You liked his gestures, how he looked away when he spoke, his nervous ramblings, and the straight hair that he apparently was letting grow, but what you liked the most were his hands. When he was explaining a profile, he always communicated a lot with his body language and honestly, the swaying of his hands, combined with the tranquility in his tone of voice, was very hypnotic to you, as if keeping the attention of others was something inescapable for him, although it was probably easier to keep your attention specifically. Right now, while everyone was minding their own business, you were watching sideways as he ran his middle finger over the printed lines. It made you nervous to see the delicacy with which he moved across the sheet of paper and inevitably your mind traveled to inappropriate corners related to that movement, which embarrassed you to the point of blushing. Thank heavens he was too focused to notice you, so you forced yourself to work on the few reports Reid had let you keep.
The days were very rare when no cases appeared, but you were grateful that they existed because sometimes it was necessary to take a breather. Seeing so many bodies, so much blood and so much inhumanity was something you never quite got used to, although having good teammates in your unit made it more bearable. So that night nothing stopped you from finishing right on time, with a little back pain from sitting all day, but also quite calm.
"I'll see you tomorrow, rest"
"Are you going to your apartment?" Spencer asked, rushing towards you with his coat in hand and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, and you nodded Can you wait for me to go together?”
You looked at him, more confused than you wanted, but you said yes. It's not that you were upset or that you didn't want company, but that you were curious as to why he might have offered to do it.
"Thanks again, for earlier," you said, once both of you were outside. You lived a few streets from the office and you could get there in less than 20 minutes by taking a subway station, which fortunately was the same one he took.
“Okay, they were too many for you. I mean, it's not that I think you can't do the job, you're very capable, it's just that I thought it was too much workload for just you and I… well, I could help you so I did it” with that Reid held up a hand to downplay the matter and smiled at you.
“Why have we never thought about walking to the subway together?”
"I don't know either," he said. You felt a gust of wind hit the both of you so you hugged yourself to try and get some warmth and even though Spencer wasn't the best at reading social cues he managed to figure out what you had and what he needed to do 
“Here” he murmured, as he spread the coat and put it on your shoulders.
“Oh no, no, no, Reid. I'm fine"
"In fact, if you don't use it you can catch a cold and although there are very few cases in which there are complications that lead to death, the symptoms last about a week and you can infect several people during the first days, so you not only you would be taking care of yourself but also the rest of the team” he informed you. That made you smile, and you found that behind all his scientific mumbo jumbo, he was trying to take care of you.
"It's a little big on me," you laughed, reaching into the sleeves with some help from him.
“You look pretty” he blurted out from his lips, completely entranced by you “Well, the… the coat. It looks good” he tried to fix, but you laughed at the compliment that you definitely wouldn't pass up.
"Aren't you cold?"
“No, my shirt and vest help,” Spencer replied, showing you the long sleeve of her white shirt. “I also have my scarf, did you forget it?”
"The best choice in all your outfits" you joked, reaching out a hand to feel the soft fabric of the garment and looking at him, with that cute shy smile "What will you do when you get to your apartment?"
“Huh, probably get some sleep. I haven't been resting properly in the past few days."
"Nightmares again?" you sadly asked. Spencer had talked to you superficially about it a few days ago, although you thought that he had suffered from this disease for much longer than he wanted to admit. He didn't answer verbally, he just nodded his head and you thought he didn't want to delve into it “I think I'll spend a while in the bathtub and then I'll sleep. I'm exhausted"
“You close doors and windows before you sleep, right?”
"I do," you assured him.
“Do you also take your cell phone with you to call in case of emergencies?”
"Huh, yeah"
"Good. Take care of yourself” he insisted. Those didn't sound like random recommendations and that puzzled you a bit.
"I do, Reid," you replied softly. When you noticed that the concern in his features did not leave him, you thought it would be prudent to ask him why that was "Are you worried about something?"
"No, it's not that" he hastened to answer. You still had a few blocks to go to get to the subway and only a few passers-by walked the streets, besides you.
“Are they unsub then? Anything in particular that worries you?"
"It's nothing like that. It's just…” he gasped, still unsure to continue, “if I tell you, you'll think it's silly”
"Of course not. Tell me, what is it?" you asked. He was internally debating if he should tell you what he was thinking and he was convinced a little when he felt your hand on his arm, as if prompting him to speak.
“Yesterday I…” he started to say “I had a nightmare. I dreamed when I arrived at the office I found out that something bad had happened to you. And… I don't know, it felt very real and I couldn't get it out of my head” he admitted. You understood that perhaps it was the reason he had wanted to accompany you, as if he feared that someone might stalk you on the way.
“Spence” you murmured gently, as you pulled him a little in your direction to place one hand on his bicep and the other on his forearm “Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to me. My apartment complex has a good security system and I always carry my gun, if something happens on the street, I will know how to deal with it. They're just bad dreams, I have them sometimes too” you said to reassure him. You felt quite comfortable walking in that position and you continued a couple of steps holding him like this, looking for some negative sign from him, but it never came. With the closeness he managed to feel a little less fear, reminding himself that what tormented him were fantasies of his own mind, that if they were analyzed with a little more detail they were an unconscious reflection of how much he feared losing you.
"I told you it would be silly"
"It is not. It's quite sweet, actually,” you smiled, moving your thumb up and down as you smiled at him. In that position your face was at the height of the boy's shoulder and it was enough for him to turn his head to reach your forehead, so he wondered how much you would bother if he left you a kiss there. He wanted to, but held back.
“I just thought I should tell you. For you to be careful"
“Same to you, Reid. You have a rather peculiar ability to get into trouble” you exclaimed accusingly, because in a couple of cases the man had already managed to get on your nerves.
The position turned out to be cozier than you expected and you continued walking the rest of the streets towards the subway in silence. He concentrated on the feeling of your body so close to him and your hands gently holding him, while you lost yourself in thought wondering what you really felt about your coworker and what he felt for you. Spencer would look at you from time to time, analyzing your gestures and enjoying the sight of you wearing his clothes, something he didn't think would affect him the way he did.
“Did you know that railway suicides have a very small percentage in the country's suicide rate?” he told you, while the two of you looked at the subway tracks that you were waiting for. You had had to distance yourself to be able to pay the pennies for the ticket and you had decided to place your hands in the pockets of your borrowed coat, caressing the lining fabric with your fingers.
"I had no idea" you muttered. You were a little surprised that he always had an interesting fact about literally anywhere you were and you loved hearing him tell you “It must be horrible. And very sad"
"Even the government allocates certain resources to pay for psychological therapy for drivers who witness these suicides"
"Well, at least it comforts me to know that part of my taxes ends there," you joked bitterly and the train stopped just as you finished saying it. Reid let you first into the nearly empty car that would take you home, and along the way you continued to talk about less unfortunate things, like the dinner choices you were planning or the TV shows that were likely to be airing when you arrived.
Having those little quiet moments with him made you feel lucky and the laughs he managed to get filled your chest with joy, making you completely forget everything related to work. The voice in the wagon warned that your stop was next and an anticipated sadness invaded you.
“Be…”
"Be careful, I know" you smiled. Since you were already on your feet, so as not to miss your stop, you crouched down to give him a quick goodbye hug “See you tomorrow. Try to sleep and if you have nightmares you can call me, okay?" you muttered. He nodded from his place as he watched you leave towards the platform and leaned out the window to see your figure disappear into the distance.
Neither of you two realized that you had kept his coat until you got home.
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As of that night, that coat returned to see the doctor's closet on very few occasions and the purple scarf went on to have joint custody. He had found out that if he loved anything more than wearing the clothes you gave him, it was seeing you wearing them, causing him to come up with totally pathetic excuses to accomplish that. 
"It's a bit cold" "Purple matches your clothes" or simply "keep it, it looks better on you than on me"
It soon became a habit. During the cases, when you two were apart, it was a little comforting to have something of him with you and when he came home, he would enjoy breathing in the smell of your perfume impregnated on the fabric.
After a few weeks you realized that, without a doubt, you were so in love with him. And when he realized the same thing, he was completely terrified.
“Reid” you greeted him one morning, catching up with him as he poured himself a coffee and analyzed a piece of bread that had surely been sitting there since the day before. Hugs when seeing him had also become a habit, quite nice from the man’s point of view "I have something for you"
"Again?"
"Oh yeah," you smiled. Lately you had been filling him with small gifts and most of them quite rare, but which he kept suspiciously in his desk drawer. And it's not that he didn't appreciate it, but that he was beginning to feel guilty for receiving so many and not having given you any yet. "Give me your keys," you asked and he obeyed without even questioning you. Once you had them in your hand, you took a strip of colored beads from your pocket that you added as a key ring, while he looked at you with some confusion.
"What's that?"
“My friend asked me to babysit her daughter this weekend and we went crazy with crafts. So I thought I'd do this to you” you muttered. He took a closer look at the keyring and noted that you had included his favorite colors, purple and green, as well as a heart-shaped bead at the end. "I know it looks like a preschool kid's creation and if you're embarrassed to wear it you can throw it away”
"No, I like it. It's pretty,” he smiled, running his long fingers over the beads. Satisfied with the answer, you took out your own keys and proudly showed them to him.
"I have one just like it," you said happily. That was true, only yours was made of pink and blue, and the way you said it completely touched the man.
"You make me think that there is still goodness in this world, you know?" he exclaimed, so sincere and without thinking that he surprised you "I loved it, thank you very much"
"Now that I think about it, it's like one of those friendship bracelets you make at summer camp”
“I never went to a summer camp”
"I don't know why I'm not surprised" you laughed and would have continued the conversation if it hadn't been for Hotch's interruption.
“We've got a case. Conference room in 5”
Sometimes you forgot that the real reason you were there was the criminal profiles and not seeing Spencer Reid every day.
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You just woke up one morning and knew you had to tell Spencer how you felt about him. As you said before, Spencer seemed to have a special magnet for trouble and proof of this were the cases in which he had to perform dangerous tasks that you knew no one else could do. When he had to get on that train with Ted Bryar you'd gone crazy and last week when he'd watched that cult boy on Massanutten Mountain threaten Reid with a gun you decided you'd had enough.
He had expressed concern for your well-being on multiple occasions, but what about his? Didn't you have the right to care about him just as much? every time he came back you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and whisper in his ear if he was okay, to maybe leave a kiss or two on his cheeks. But every time he came back you just cheered with the rest of the team and barely had contact with him beyond a squeeze on the shoulder and a sincere: I'm glad you're okay.
So you thought that if you wanted to have that kind of privilege over others the only alternative was to profess your love to him in the hope that he would feel the same way and you could work something out.
Spencer, for his own part, also had his epiphany and as much as he tried to avoid it he ended up asking Morgan for advice, who was the only person he thought would be suitable to talk about this kind of subject. Surprisingly, Derek behaved discreetly and really gave the doctor valuable elements to understand one of the few sciences in which science was almost obsolete: love.
Going back to recently acquired habits, walking together to the subway was another one of them. Sometimes this was interrupted because he or you stayed longer than the other, but except for those cases it was a regular activity.
So that night, when you two were walking to the station, your mind was immersed in remembering the speech with which you planned to tell your friend.
"You're very quiet today," Reid observed, taking you by surprise. In a few months he had already learned very well some traits that indicated that something was wrong with you.
“Sorry, I… I have a few things on my mind,” you apologized, but Spencer didn't know what to say because he also had his own things on his mind. He was desperately searching for a way to put into words what he felt, but he kept wondering, could that be explained? All attempts at reasoning became useless with you near him, maybe that's why he couldn't think of how to tell you "Reid, I don't think I've ever asked you, but have you ever had a partner?"
"Like… couple?" he asked, trying to make sure you were referring to the same thing he thought.
“I know it sounds weird, but it just… made me curious,” you exclaimed, shrugging and then crossing your arms in an attempt to comfort yourself. Reid fondly watched how your arms were on that purple scarf and felt a little motivated to speak.
“Huh, in that case, yes, something like that. I dated two people when I was in school, but it wasn't anything serious, just a few kisses” he explained to you and you failed to contain your laughter, maybe because of the way he had explained it. Spencer blushed to his ears and smiled reflexively at your smile. "Don't tease!"
"I don't" you defended yourself. Another person walked down the sidewalk and he reached out his arm to move you protectively in front of him, so when you came back to his side you took advantage of the distance between you, to the point where your shoulder brushed against his arm.
"And you?" he asked after a while of silence "Have you had many boyfriends?"
"The truth? not so many. With most of them I lost interest after the first date and the others left me when they found out I was in the academy. Apparently armed women aren't very attractive” you smiled. You had asked about his romantic history, and incidentally talked a bit about yours, only to open the topic and somehow feel that your confession would not be so out of place.
“There are studies that indicate that women take longer to fall in love than men, perhaps that is why you lost interest quickly. For you it takes about 6 or 8 dates to decide if you want something with a person, because you are more selective and better analyze personality traits in men. But they only care that the girls are… well, pretty” he murmured, with a smirk “On average it takes women 134 days to fall in love while men only 88”
“How long have you and I known each other?”
"It must be like... a year and a half now" he exclaimed, mentally doing the math "Why?" he continued legitimately confused. For the genius that he was, Reid was naive at times.
You looked down at him and for a second thought that even with those bags under his eyes and the stubble he hadn't shaved, Spencer was the most handsome man you'd ever met. Not receiving an answer, he looked at you and was surprised to see the sparkle in your eyes.
"Okay, can we stop here for a moment?" you asked. You knew you were probably going to chicken out if you didn't say it right then, even if that closed beauty salon you were standing in front of was an unromantic place. "I need to tell you something”
You had said it with determination, but once you were face to face, your mind went blank. You panicked: how were you going to tell him? What was the right thing to say? What reaction did you expect?
But Spencer, noticing the silence, decided to be the first to speak.
“Noradrenaline is a neurotransmitter that produces excitement and effusivity, increases heartbeat, blood pressure, causing sweating of hands and flushing. High dopamine levels generate a need to be with the person that releases it and is related to serotonin, which generates well-being, optimism, social closeness, and reduces discomfort and anger. Phenylethylamine makes everything more intense, makes us feel more motivated and optimistic and finally, oxytocin is the love hormone par excellence, it occurs when we have a bond of trust with people or when we feel a strong attraction. Sometimes it is also released when we embrace the reason for our affection” he had said that so hastily and waving his hands, that he could only show how nervous he was. He inhaled to catch his lost breath, then finally made eye contact with you, taking a moment before continuing, “What I'm trying to say is…you make me feel all of that. You alter my chemistry in ways I've never thought of and… and I… go all goofy and don't know what to say…”
"Spencer" you interrupted him "You mean you like me?" you asked gently, because you knew that when he started to wander sometimes you needed to bring him back down to earth. Reid looked at you tight-lipped and nodded slowly.
You were silent for a second, trying to process what he had just told you, and he got even more nervous than he was.
“But I think that after all this what I care to know is… if you feel the same way. Or in the worst case, if you think you might feel something like this”
“A total chemical mess for you?” you exclaimed amused. One of your hands went to his and you gently held it, taking a step closer to him. “I'm sorry, Reid. I feel it every time I look at you, that you hug me, every time I give you those silly gifts and see the smile on your face. Everything in you causes me that"
"Are you serious?" he asked, wanting to be completely sure what he was hearing. You laughed and wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
“Of course I do. Before you said all that I was racking my brain trying to find a way to tell you how I felt."
“Did you know that this is a phenomenon? There are those who call it the tuning fork effect, which is when two people connect the same idea at the same time, almost as if they had been thinking at the same frequency.”
You chuckled and buried your head in his neck, letting go of his hand so you could hug him properly. He wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his head in your hair, willing to say nothing more for fear of ruining the moment. All the fears you had had were being buried with that contact, because now you had the certainty that what you felt was mutual.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, just listening to the gentle beating of his heart and enjoying the sense of security that being in the man's arms made you feel.
"I really like you" you broke the silence, with a whisper, making him smile.
"I think the most logical step from here would be to ask you out on a date, no?" he muttered. You pulled away enough to look at him, but still leaving your arms around his shoulders.
“I don't want to have to wait. Let's go for a burger"
"Don't you prefer somewhere more... formal?"
"Leave formal places for proposals, handsome," you said in a playful voice, caressing his cheeks with your extended palm and he made a mental note that this Italian restaurant he was thinking of inviting you to would be the ideal place to ask you to take the next step, when the time was right. 
“I still have to take you on at least 6 dates, to be sure”
"Fuck the statistics, I don't need that burger to know I'm in love with you," you said and he grinned from ear to ear.
“I know a place with an excellent health label and organic food, it is a few streets from here”
"I follow you" you answered cheerfully "On one condition"
"Which?"
"Let me hold your hand," you asked softly and Reid wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, leading you to the restaurant that way.
And at the end of the night, when you stole a kiss from him, he couldn't have felt luckier.
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nochukoo97 · 5 months
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new beginnings
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pairing: ceo!jungkook x figureskater!oc
warnings/summary: oc takes up a new job as a cashier, and she gets a CAT, jk is a little grumpy but he gets better, he’s also annoying by calling oc’s cat a cottonbud LOL, he calls her sweetheart, and oc has a little crushy crush on this hot neighbour, they bump into each other three times, basically they’re destined to meet each other even when they barely know each other
word count: 2.4k+ / TAGLIST OPEN
series masterlist!
“Goddamn, how many pieces of clothing do you own?” Yeji grunts as she helps to pull along two of your suitcases into her apartment’s lift.
“It’s all costumes for my competitions, my coach keeps insisting to keep them in case we need it in the future,” You internally sigh at the thought of your coach, she wasn’t bad by all means, but she constantly pushed you to your limits with countless competitions she enrolled you in. But after all, you didn’t come to Seoul and join the national team expecting a smooth and comfortable journey.
“Anyways, you’ve gotta tap the card right here,” She explains the whole crazy security system here, then passes you the access card to the apartment. One week ago you would’ve probably not expected to be in this situation, now moving in with your best friend, as well as her boyfriend who has begun to sleepover at her place more often than necessary. But right now if it meant that less money would fall out of your bank account, putting up with whatever third-wheeling you were about to go through would make it all worth it.
You pull your other two suitcases into the lift, noticing a man shuffling into the corner to make space for the two of you and your four huge suitcases. The lift door closes and there’s this deafening silence that fills the lift, with the way Yeji widens her eyes at you but says nothing, you assume it might be about the latter standing in the corner of the lift.
“What kind of signals were you trying to send me in there?” You whine when the lift door finally closes, as Yeji abandons the now-rolling-away suitcases to grab onto your hands.
“It’s rolling!” You exclaim, as she jumps slightly, your voice raising a little louder than usual in panic.
“Sorry-sorry, anyways, he’s the guy I told you about! Maybe I can set you up with him,” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, giving you the same taunting look she did when she had proposed moving into her apartment.
“No! I don’t even know that man, anyways with those looks he might already be taken,” You brush your best friend off, anyways, you didn’t want a relationship right? When Yeji had told you about the hot guy in her apartment, you had immediately brushed the idea of being set up off, since that’s exactly how you met your ex, and it definitely did not end on a good note.
“Oh, so you’re attracted to him?” She jogs in front of you to look you in the eye, seemingly much more excited at her sudden discovery than you.
“What? No I didn’t say that? I just- whatever! Open the door!”
She only smirks at your stuttering, but complies as she opens the front door to her unit, and you’re greeted with a familiar sight that you now need to get used to calling home.
-
People had always praised you for being dainty and sweet, always dressed up in elegant costumes during your competitions, your moves on ice had always charmed the audience with how smooth you twirled and jumped.
You would like to say that they might change their minds when they spot you in this current situation: no makeup on, eyebags peeking through, in a neon green vest as you stare at the rows of cigarettes behind the cashier.
The younger you would have never expected to end up working part time in this convenience store, but here you are.
But somehow it didn’t seem too bad, you were the only worker here, besides a sweet lady who comes and sweeps the floor every evening, and the best part: you got to control the music.
To be honest, you may have been enjoying yourself a little too much with the way you hum to the music as you drink the complimentary-one-a-day coffee your manager had given you.
“One pack of menthol,” Your sudden peace is abruptly disrupted as you whip your head around, jumping slightly as you hear the voice sound from behind you.
Oh. It’s the same man from the lift, this time he’s wearing another suit in a different colour, but this time he seems much more drained than before.
“I said-” He repeats himself again, noticing your spaced out look as you stare straight at him.
“Oh, yeah! Sorry sorry, it’s been a long day,” You quickly gather yourself, mentally cursing yourself for checking out the man in front of you so shamelessly, but he only scoffs at your little mistake.
He’s either a total dickhead or is just having a bad day. Hopefully its the latter since as much as you hate to admit it, maybe he perhaps has caught your attention.
But the same man quickly walks out of the store the moment you return his black credit card, as you’re now once alone in the store, gathering your things to finally end your shift.
-
It’s only a few days later where you meet your next crisis, or rather a blessing in disguise.
An innocent trip to the local fair turned into you signing adoption papers for this fluffy little furball that you absolutely could not leave. To be fair, you were mainly there to find some cute accessories to buy, but the newly put up adoption booth had caught your eye.
The moment your eyes had met the beady little eyes of the small white cat, you couldn’t say no. Even if it meant paying thrice your income from working at the convenience store, anything would be worth this cat.
But then again, your heart sank further once the lady at the counter had told you the animals put up were free to adopt, or else they would be euthanised the following day. It almost made you attempt to calculate just how much it would cost to take care of all the animals here, but in the end you had settled to just bring the cat home.
“Yeji, hypothetically how mad would you be on a scale of 1 to 10 if I brought a cat home?” You press your phone in between your shoulder and cheek as you wrap the little cat in its blanket, snuggling the animal close to your chest in hopes to provide it more warmth.
“You’re kidding me right now,” You hear her sigh at the other end, “What makes you think we can raise a cat? Let alone you working night shifts and being out at training in the day?”
She wasn’t wrong, but you’re pretty sure it’ll all be okay.
“Trust me, the lady managing the adoption booth told me cats are way more independent, we can get her an automatic feeder and I’ll need to get a litter box too, and maybe some toys and treats on the side too…”
She sighs again, “And that’ll cost a gajillion dollars, where are you going to get that from?”
“I’ll find a way, trust me,”
-
Truth to be told, the package deal you had got for litter and food was a little more pricey than you had anticipated, but you were confident that it would save you money in the future anyways.
Cloud, the newly named cat, of which you spent many hours deciding on a name for her, was easier to handle than expected, she often played with the little gadget toy Yeji had got her, and learnt how to use her litterbox in a day, which made you come to a conclusion that you had raised a genius.
But yet your oh-so-smart furkid may also be a little too intelligent, the absence of a certain cat in the apartment has now caused your anxiety and hysteria.
“How did she manage to escape with us not noticing again! The last time I saw her crawl through your legs but this time I swear she disappeared into thin air!” You’re on the verge of tears as you tell Yeji, who only rubs her palm up and down your back as a offering of comfort.
“But you’ve got her tagged up, your number and her name is attached to her collar, I’m sure anyone who finds her will definitely call you immediately,” She tells you, watching as you now begin to hiccup, tears forming and rolling down your cheeks.
“What if she got run down by a car? Or some psychopath who hates cats found her? Oh my poor baby, she must be missing me already,” There’s a million different scenarios that play through your head, all leading to Cloud ending up in nowhere else but cat heaven.
“She’ll be fine, calm down, my friend’s cat often runs out of the house but the cat always returns every few days, some of them prefer to go out and explore, perhaps Cloud is the same,”
You can only sigh and hope for the best.
-
unknown number: hey
unknown number: did you lose a cat?
You gasp to yourself when your eyes scan the new text that had appeared on your screen, someone had found her.
you: YES
you: DON’T DO ANYTHING TO HER PLEASE
you: i promise ill pay anything for you not to do anything
Your heart beats frantically in your chest watching the three dots appear and disappear over and over again. There was no way a psychopath had truly found Cloud and already decided to perform whatever possible traumatic procedure on her right?
unknown number: why would i do anything to it??
unknown number: in fact your cat is the one who had run into my apartment and marked her territory all over.
Oh. That was the last thing you had expected.
you: do you have a litter box in your house?
The three dots taunt you as they appear once and pause for a good minute, as if whoever is on the other side is pondering hard to answer your simple question.
unknown number: what kind of question is that??
unknown number: i dont own a cat, why tf would i own a litter box??
You frown at the reply, you were grateful he didn’t do anything to Cloud, but a simple no would be great.
you: just send me your address!!
you: i need to see if she’s alright, she probably is crying for me right now
unknown number: it’s sleeping peacefully under my bed right now, i dont think its upset at all.
unknown number: here’s the address: xxx
You sigh in relief when you realise it’s the unit above your apartment, which meant she couldn’t have gone too far.
you: first of all, you never know if she’s crying in her heart
you: second of all, stop calling Cloud an it!!! she has a name and she is a girl
you: third of all, im coming upstairs im in the same apartment complex
You roll your eyes when a reply comes in faster than it did before, mostly because it’s an insult to your cat:
unknown number: who names a cat cloud?? she looks more like a cotton bud, hurry and get her.
-
When you reach the floor above you, you’re met with a black door, no doorbell in sight. So you simply knock, sure that it had been the person that found Cloud since it was the only unit on the floor.
What you didn’t expect is to be met with the same man you saw whilst working at the convenience store. Instead he’s in a loose shirt and some shorts, hair not styled as a few pieces of bangs fall over his eyes. His presence daunts you a little, considering how darkly lit his place was, and how he towered over you.
“Oh? So we meet again,” He seems to recognise you as he steps aside, watching as you take off your bedroom slippers, which you now curse at yourself for wearing since it was pink and fluffy.
You think you hear a little laugh when he spots your slippers but you choose to believe he didn’t anyways.
“Where is my baby?” You step in now, taking in the view of his place. It’s a little larger than Yeji’s apartment, and the interior seems… lacking some colour. It’s mostly black and grey furniture, with hints of marble and some white chairs here and there, but it’s a total opposite of your apartment.
“Don’t think she cares enough to be your baby, but your baby pissed all over my balenciaga shoes and my dumbbells,” He deadpans, nodding his head to show you the dark pair of shoes that now hang at the window, you assume to dry them out.
“Your what shoes?!” You almost turn pale at the mention of the designer brand, there’s no way he might ask you to get him a new pair right?
“Forget about that, go and get Cottonbud out of my room,” He walks into the hallway, looking back once to check if you follow him.
“What did you just call her?!” You yell at him from behind as he enters a room, a bed coming into sight and a much too familiar tail that sticks out from under the bed.
“Cloud!” You’re far too busy attempting to reunite with your cat to bother hearing another reply from the man, but the moment you come closer to the swaying tail, Cloud dashes away from your grasp and hides at the very deep end from under the bed.
“Looks like someone isn’t too keen on seeing you,”
You whip around, a frown on your face as you are met with the man who smirks, almost taunting you.
“Shut up,”
“What’re you gonna do now then? The cat’s gone further under the bed, I can’t reach there either,” He has his hands on his hips, standing and waiting for your reply.
His gaze and posture makes you feel small, and not having a single clue what to do fuels this feeling in you. And perhaps add some butterflies in too and it’ll perfectly describe how you are feeling.
“I- I don’t know! I’ve never had to deal with this situation before!” You’re pacing up and down, glancing at the bed, hoping Cloud would magically pop out and leap into your arms so you can run home away from this man.
“Well I’ve got all day sweetheart, you can slowly find a way to get Cottonbud out of my house,”
“Her name is not Cottonbud!”
“Whatever,”
TAGLIST: @skzthinker @cherrysainttt @vminkookgf @lilaissa @jjeonjjk7 @armystay89 @canyon-lwt @junecat18
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anipgarden · 1 year
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Adding To or Starting a Garden
AKA, the beginning of the Plants-Related section of this series.
This is my third post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps! 
Got an area of lawn you’d like to convert to a wildlife haven? An area you can stick some hanging baskets in? Want to know how your garden of tomatoes and zucchinis is already putting in a lot of work? This is the section for you!
It would be dumb of me to not acknowledge that the act of gardening can come with a lot of costs. Buying seeds, buying plants, buying soil, raised bed materials, mulch, etc. … it can all get a bit daunting, let’s be honest! But there’s quite a few ways to get seeds and plants for free or extremely cheap, which I’ll be addressing in this section! The next section will be all about addressing the other Costs in gardening and how to mitigate or eliminate them entirely.
Also, do keep in mind; there’s no need to try and convert a whole area from lawn to garden or unused to garden at once. In fact, it could actually be extremely beneficial to do it a little at a time--maybe four or five square feet to start out.
Front Lawn (or Managing Principles)
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If you live in a place where you’re required to have a grass turf lawn (HOA’s come to mind…), try replacing it with native grasses instead! You could even possibly use a low-growing ground cover plant like clover to a similar effect! Reseeding/replacing an entire lawn can be a big upfront cost, but even just letting the lawn be a little messy and tall helps. If the lawn gets patchy, leave the bare spots for a little while and something different will likely pop up! Pioneer species will fill the gaps and provide benefits to other plants around them, support animals, and more! If you want to take the guesswork out of it, you could always research what the pioneer species are in your area and plant the ones you like most. 
Obtaining Seeds for Cheap or Free
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The cheapest way to start a garden is by far via seeds. However, seeds can be a bit complicated to grow, and some sources make them… way overpriced. Fortunately there are ways to get seeds for little to no cost! 
Some places sell seeds for as low as a dollar, 50 cents, or 25 cents! The packets may not have a lot of seeds, but it’s definitely a good start for a low budget! I’ve personally bought cheap seed packets at Walmart--the Ferry-Morse and Burpee brands are not what we’re looking for here. Typically the cheaper ones I’ve found are American Seed (which is owned by Green Garden Products, which also owns Ferry-Morse, Livingston Seed, McKenzie Seed, and Seeds of Change. Do with that information what you will), but they’re rarely stocked near the Ferry-Morse ones in the Formal Gardening Section. I’ve most often found them on end caps near the gardening section, so you may have to weave through a few aisles to find them, but once you do there’s an array of flower and vegetable seeds to select from! Alternatively, I’ve found seeds at Dollar Tree sold 2 or 4 for a dollar in Spring as part of their seasonal product; however, when they’re out of stock, they’re typically out of stock for the year. Try to check them out early in the year!
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Otherwise, other seed companies like Urban Farmer or Botanical Interests will often have semi-frequent sales in spring and fall, when people are stocking up on seeds--joining their email lists can help you be the first to know when a good sale is going on!
Some foods from grocery stores will provide seeds that you can use in the garden as well. I’ve had the most luck with store-bought bagged beans, peppers, and tomatoes. Some people have had luck with watermelons, apples, citrus, squash, and more. Do keep in mind that you likely won’t get the same variety of fruit/vegetable as the one you bought--the resulting plant may look different and taste different.
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Give it a shot! Pick some beans you like--if they don't grow well, at least you can eat the rest!
If you live in the US, food-producing live plants, bare roots, and seeds can often be purchased with SNAP benefits. But what does growing fruits, veggies, and herbs have to do with boosting biodiversity? While food crops aren’t typically native, they still provide valuable shelter for native insects. Some plants even have intricate relationships with native fauna--like the squash bee, a solitary bee which exclusively pollinates cucurbits like pumpkins, squash, and zucchini. And we get to benefit more directly as well! If you’re planting a diverse range of foods in your garden (as opposed to the swaths of single-plant farms that typically produce what’s sent to grocery stores), you’re supporting high levels of biodiversity by providing a variety of plants for creatures to live and hunt around.
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Most of the time, when we think of boosting biodiversity with a garden, we think of a colorful flower garden teeming with pollinator species. However, if we’re striving to use native species, it can be a bit difficult to find some species in stores. I can say from experience that trying to find any wildflower seeds other than butterfly weed, purple coneflowers, and black-eyed-susans is… challenging, if you limit yourself to stores like Walmart, Home Depot, and Lowe’s. You might occasionally get lucky with an ACE Hardware or a local nursery, but even then sometimes it can be hard to track down who in your area is selling what--let alone if you live in an area where no one really is selling native plants or their seeds. Not to mention, even once you find a local or online store selling the seeds you want, they can sometimes cost a pretty penny. So what do you do?
If you have the option to, consider gathering native seeds yourself! Get good at identifying the native flora and fauna--or at least, a few target plants and their lookalikes--and get ready to go! Learn where they tend to grow, when they’ll be seeding, etc. Try to identify the plant before it goes to seed (for most plants, it's easiest to identify when flowering), then check back regularly to gather seeds. Typically, if I want to learn how to collect seed from a specific plant, I just search it on Google or YouTube--oftentimes, I'm lead to the GrowItBuildIt Youtube page, so it may be a helpful resource for you as well! Of course, make sure to leave plenty of seed behind so the wild population can repopulate, and seed can feed other creatures in the area. A good rule of thumb is to take no more than 1/3rd of what's available.
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Buying seed in bulk is an option if you can afford the upfront cost. Try teaming up with a few friends to buy some bulk seeds and split them amongst yourselves--you’ll get tons of seed! Prairie Moon is a popular site that'll sell seeds by the pound if you can afford the price--though they're in the US, and I believe they focus on Midwest and East Coast natives.
If you want to cheat the system, don’t buy bulk sunflower seeds--buy bags of sunflower seeds being sold as birdseed. They’re typically all black oil sunflower seeds, but they’ll sprout, and they’re fairly cheap for the amount you get!
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However, beware generic wildflower seed mixes! Many brands like to sell wildflower seed mixes in big box stores like Home Depot, Target, or even Dollar Tree, but they’ll often include flowers that aren’t native or possibly even invasive in your region! Before you make any purchases, double check to make sure the contained seeds won’t do more harm than good! A quality source of native seeds will provide English and Latin names for all seeds included, and will be native to the region or at least non-invasive. 
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See this? I don't trust this.
There’s a good handful of programs online that’ll send you free seeds if you’re planning to start a native habitat project! Poke around online and see what you can find; you might get lucky! The best time to start looking for these is fall and winter, I find--by early spring, many of them are either done or beginning to wind down... though some also start up in spring. Ultimately--just check regularly! You never know what you can find!
Other Ways to Get Plants
Don’t want to start from seed? That’s fair! You can try cuttings! Just be sure not to take too much of the plant while you do so. Make sure you’ve gotten a few leaf nodes on your cutting, and cut any flowers you may have gotten. Make sure to leave some blooms and foliage on the original plant for the creatures in the current habitat--you don’t want to destroy one habitat to make another in your garden. There’s tons of methods of rooting cuttings, many of which have different efficacy rates for different plants, but that’s a topic for another post.
If you find seedlings growing in a place where they won’t be able to sustain themselves long-term, or are in danger of being destroyed, consider relocating them! You may be able to gently dig up and transplant the seedling to your garden. Don’t do this if they’re in a place where they can easily survive--ideally, you’ll be taking plants from sidewalk cracks, heavily maintained public gardens, roadsides, etc. Do be careful while doing this--ensure your safety first!  
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You’re totally allowed to join gardening communities like clubs, facebook groups, and more before you’ve even put a trowel to the dirt. These are great places to learn information and advice! Many gardeners are more than happy to help out a new gardener, and will eagerly provide seeds, cuttings, or even baby plants! Talk to some people about your gardening journey and what you’re hoping to do, and you just might find some kindred spirits--or at least get more people interested in the topic! 
Seed and plant giveaways and trades happen all the time in gardening clubs, as well as online! Just poke around and see what you can find! Some are explicitly trades, meaning you’re expected to send something in return, but once you get your feet on the ground with some plant knowledge you’ll be stellar! You may be able to explain you’re just starting out, and someone may send you seeds without expecting a trade, but I’d suggest trying giveaways first. 
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Poke around online and see if there’s a local chapter of your state’s native plant society. From there, you’ll likely be able to find a calendar of events--many of them will host plant sales in the spring, with a bunch of native plant seedlings ripe for the pickings if you can make it out and have some money to spare! Fair warning, though, you’ll want to get there early if you can. If they say they’re starting at 10, try to get there by 9:45. Year after year, there’s always record turnout, and they sell out of plants faster than ever. Just trust me on this. I’ve been let down; hopefully you won’t have to be.
Some libraries are beginning to host seed libraries! Check around and see if your library has one! Ideally, the system works best if you also have seeds to contribute in return, but if you’re just starting out I’m sure they won’t mind you taking some seeds! Just consider saving some seeds to contribute in the future and pay it forward. If your library doesn’t have a seed library? Consider asking if they’d be willing to start one! Community interest is a great way to get the ball rolling on projects like these, but they’ll only know the community is interested if the community tells them they’re interested!
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Volunteer to Garden for/with Someone Else
Maybe someone in your area wants to garden, but is struggling to find the time/energy. Many elderly people who used to garden simply can’t anymore but still would like a garden. Other people may love to have a helping hand in their garden. You might even find a few people in your area interested in renting and sharing a community garden plot with others, so they don't have to handle it all on their own! They may be interested in increasing biodiversity right now, or may be willing to if it’s brought up to them. You might be just the kind of person someone needs! Since it won't be your garden, you’ll likely need a bit of permission and collaboration to get anything in particular going, but it’s worth a shot and a way to maybe even make friends! 
Again, your mileage may vary with some of these. You may not know where there's a bunch of wildflowers growing in your area, or maybe your local library doesn't have a free seed library. That's okay! Do what you're able to, find what you can find, get what you can get! And there's never any shame with starting small--in fact, starting small can make the project easier to manage and expand when you're able!
That's the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about ways to start growing plants cheaply--low cost seed starting set ups, essentially. There's a lot of good options, many of which I've used myself even! Until then, I hope this advice is helpful! Feel free to reply with any questions, success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!
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vaguely-concerned · 2 months
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Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)
The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)
The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.)  This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that. 
(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)   
The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them. 
I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly. 
And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much. 
I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.) 
Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.
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87kelce · 4 months
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—can we please get back to loving?
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summary: you knew the term exclusive was never something travis would ever use when it comes to your relationship. but you seemed to be the only one he called when he wanted someone around.
warnings: angst, smut (18+ only, no minors), arguments, slow sex, riding, pussy eating, spooning
word count: 2660
notes: title taken from the song written all over your face by louis tomlinson. not proofread so if there's any mistakes i apologise. again likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🫶
You never seemed to get a moments peace at night anymore. You knew better than to answer his calls, however the majority of the time, he was already waiting outside to be let in. But you just couldn't deny how good the sex was. He's barely doing anything and you're coming undone beneath him every time, his soft lips and wandering hands doing wonders on your body.
But then there were times he called and it wasn't for sex. He'd maybe just lost a game and he needs a pick me up, so he calls you. You talk for hours until he hears you yawning and then he thanks you for calming him down and tells you to get some rest. He also apologises for rambling on and keeping you awake for so long, but you tell him it's fine and you'd rather sit up and talk to him if it meant he was ok. You're always worried about him after a loss, he always blames himself for not doing enough and it hurts you that he feels that way.
Then you invited yourself over to his place one day, and he gladly let you in. You knew he had a game the next day so there was no chance of having sex, but at least you could help him focus on the game. He seemed to be in a good mood—he was making you laugh, you were watching TV together and you, slowly but surely, were falling for him. You were falling for the way his eyes practically disappeared when he laughed, falling for the way he always looked at you like you were the only thing in the room, falling for the way he kissed you softly and gently, falling for the way he felt so comfortable around you all the time.
But it was never exclusive, you knew he didn't want that. You were just there for a hook up and to hang out sometimes. If you didn't stop the whole ordeal, you were afraid you might get too attached and he won't reciprocate those same feelings. So you started ignoring his calls, and when he'd text you and ask what's wrong, you make up lies.
I'm too tired. I'm not feeling great. I've got friends over.
But he knew you better than that. After the third excuse he just invited himself over, making up his own excuse of I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And you knew better than to invite him in. But now he's on your couch, flicking through the channels on your TV, completely making himself at home.
"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"
"Hm?"
Travis turned to face you, eyebrows raised. He clearly hadn't heard you, too focused on the TV and you just sighed.
"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"
"Let's not discuss that.. I don't want to start a fight."
"Was I the only girl you were seeing?"
"Don't.."
"I want you to be honest with me."
He sighed, switching off the TV and getting up, walking to the kitchen. He opened your fridge and grabbed a water bottle, taking a sip before coming back to the couch. But he didn't say anything, just sat there in silence before he took his phone out and started scrolling through it.
"Travis.."
"I'm just.. I don't know."
"Is it me? Is it something I've done?"
"No."
You just sighed, getting up and going to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you and flopping onto your bed, crying into your pillow. He's like a completely different person now, compared to the person he was last week, laughing with you on the phone and being so sweet and kind to you. You're just waiting and hoping he knocks on your door, apologises and sweeps you off your feet again, like a knight in shining armour. But you're pretty sure he couldn't care less, and honestly, you're not even sure why he invited himself over in the first place. If he was worried about you, he could've called. You don't know why he was so adamant about being here with you, but not actually being with you.
After one of his games, he gave you an old jersey and you still kept it under your pillow, claiming it helped you sleep better. You reached under and grabbed it, bunching it up and cuddling it. Maybe if you hadn't tried to push him away, he might still be the nice Travis you knew two weeks ago. You kept blaming yourself, putting yourself at fault for everything between you and him, until a knock at your door startled you. You wiped your eyes, getting up and opening it.
"You okay? I was gonna check on you when you slammed the door but.. thought I'd give you some space."
"I'm fine, you can go home if you want."
"That movie you like is on, wanna watch it?"
"Just.. go home."
"I can't go home, not when you're like this."
"I said I'm fine."
"You're not."
He's being pushy but he needs to be, he needs to get you to admit that you're not okay. He knows you better than yourself sometimes and you just roll your eyes, pushing past him to sit on the couch, watching the movie starting. He threw his head back and sighed, but just as he tilted his head back and went to turn and follow you, he noticed the jersey. He remembers giving it to you, smiling when you immediately put it on and twirled round in it. Truthfully, although he won't admit it, that was the first moment he fell in love with you.
He walks into your room, grabbing the jersey before going back to sit with you on the couch. He just throws it down on the middle section of the couch, before sitting down and turning to look at you.
"You keep it on your bed?"
"Under my pillow.."
He just smiled, still watching you until you smiled back at him. He was almost magnetic, pulling you right back into him whenever he could. You let him in so easily and you know you shouldn't.
But then he's pulling you onto his lap, his mouth on your neck, lips soft against your skin. Your hands move up to the back of his neck, fingers scratching gently at the nape of his neck.
"Trav.."
"Shh.. feels good right?"
You just nodded, eyes closing shut.
"Then let it happen.."
As you pulled back slightly, his head tilted, lips moving to the other side of your neck. You felt like you were spinning, feeling all dizzy when he kissed you, ultimately making you forget you were mad at him in the first place. Then you remember he has practice again tomorrow, and it's important.
"We can't do this.. not tonight."
He ignores you at first, kissing along your collarbone and you have to push yourself away from him so he looks up at you.
"Listen to me.. we can't do this.."
"You still mad at me?"
"No, but you have practice again tomorrow."
He just sighs, hands fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. It then hits you that he probably came here just to have sex, his excuse of making sure you were okay was just a lie. You push off him completely, sliding to sit next to him on the couch. But one of his hands is still on your waist, thumb circling gently on your skin.
"I need you to be genuinely honest with me, okay?"
"Okay.."
"Did you come over here for just a hookup?"
"No. You just.. kept avoiding me and I wanted to make sure you were alright."
You stood up from the couch, starting to pace around the room. Sure, he's cared about you but you just can't seem to figure out why he came over to make sure you were alright. He always just calls you, talking your ear off for hours on end and making you laugh to forget about why you were ever upset in the first place.
"I can't keep just having sex. But you don't want to be exclusive with me."
"You want the truth?"
"Please."
"I think you're so fucking cool. I get so happy when you answer my calls, those conversations we have are the one thing I look forward to on my off days. I push all these feelings down because I'm fucking terrified, my work is hectic and I.. I just don't want you to get overwhelmed by it all."
He had sat up now, head facing the ground after he spoke. You slowly sat down, one of your hands reaching for his.
"I remember giving you that jersey.. the way you got all giddy and excited when you put it on. I.."
You squeezed his hand gently and he turned his head to look at you. Then he sat back and once again, pulled you into his lap.
"Ever since then.. I can't stop thinking about you. It's just.. the travelling for away games, you wouldn't be with me for a few days and—"
"Trav.."
He looked into your eyes, feeling your hands cup his cheeks.
"I can handle a few days without you every so often.."
"Are you sure?"
You just smiled, kissing his forehead.
"I'm sure."
You let go of his face as he pulled you in against him, his forehead resting against the side of your neck. Everything felt so heavy with him before, but you didn't know that it was all on him. You had doubts that if you told him how you felt, that he wouldn't reciprocate those same feelings. There was no way you could've predicted him actually being in love with you. Especially with the sex, but now, as he moved his head back and kissed you softly on your neck, he could be sweet and gentle with you.
He moved his hands to your waist, shuffling forward on the couch before standing up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Walking you to the bedroom, you dropped your head to his shoulder, tilting your head to kiss the side of his neck. You unwrapped your legs from his waist when you felt the bed dip beneath you as he lay you down. One of his hands fumbled with your shorts as the other bunched your shirt up, his fingers brushing over your nipple, making you gasp slightly.
His head was resting against your stomach, lips leaving lingering kisses all over your skin, and you couldn't help but watch him, eyes closed and savouring every moment with you. He had managed to wiggle your shorts and underwear off, and now his mouth was kissing the inside of your thighs. You were still looking down at him when he flashed his eyes up at you, his mouth hovering over your core. He moved your left leg over his shoulder, while he pushed at the back of your thigh on your right leg, keeping it open. The hand that wasn't holding your leg open, wrapped around your other leg, trying to keep you in place while he buried his head between your legs. He could feel you squirming underneath him and almost anticipated your movements, his head moving in time with you.
You threw your head back when he delved his tongue inside, mouth still attached to your folds. Again, he flashed his eyes up at you, grinning when he saw you slightly arch your back up off the sheets. He licked through your folds a couple more times, before you reached one hand down, pushing against his forehead.
"Trav.. please.. too much.."
But he didn't stop, he just pushed his tongue deeper, licking faster, your whines and moans only egging him on further. But just as he knew you were close, he pulled away, reaching down and wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt. He then shrugged your leg off his shoulder and stood up in between your legs.
"You close?"
"Mmph.. mmhm.."
You slowly opened your eyes, watching him walk round the bed, before sitting down and patting his thighs. You slowly turned over, crawling up the bed and swinging your leg over his thighs. When his hands found your waist, he smiled up at you, brushing your hair out your face.
"There's my girl.."
You just blushed, lowering yourself down and hiding your face in his neck.
"Does my girl wanna come?"
"Please?"
He reached behind you and pulled at his shorts, dragging them off. He returned his focus to you, realising still how sensitive you already were and started to move his hands up and down your sides, squeezing gently and almost trying to massage you. While his hands were occupied, you lifted yourself onto your knees slightly, reaching down between both your bodies and adjusting yourself onto him, sinking down and sighing into his shoulder when he was fully inside.
"Take it easy, baby.. nice and slow."
You were feeling so overwhelmed that you couldn't move much, rather just grinding against him. His hands on your waist made you move, lifting you off him slightly before pushing you back down. His lips were kissing your neck, softly and sweetly, and you could feel him smiling against your skin.
Since he had basically eaten you out to almost orgasm earlier, it didn't take long before you let go against him, mumbling out that you were close.
"Let go.. I got you.."
You sighed out in relief, legs slightly trembling around him as he shh'd and cooed at you. He gave you a few languid thrusts himself to ride you through it and over it, before you felt him grunt in your ear. He was close and although you were still sensitive and still coming down from your own high, you wanted to help him get to his. Grinding your hips down onto him, he threw his head back against the pillow, eyes screwed shut and his mouth open.
"Unless you want me to come inside you, you better get off my dick.."
You pulled off him and heard him sigh against your neck, dropping his head back to your shoulder. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue, cleaning himself up. You then slid off him, laying down on the bed, feeling him drag his shorts back on before laying down behind you, arm wrapping around your waist.
"I hate when we fight.."
"I know, baby.. but if we hadn't had that fight, I wouldn't have realised what a dick I was being and wouldn't have told you how I feel about you. I could've just left when you told me to leave.."
"I'm glad you didn't.."
He just smiled and kissed your shoulder, before nuzzling his forehead against it.
"Now.. you gotta sleep, you have practice tomorrow.. and I don't think Reid will let you turn up late.. again.."
He just laughed, kissing your shoulder again before resting his head into the pillow. You felt his hand play with the hem of your t-shirt for a while before he stopped and you knew he'd drifted off to sleep. You stayed awake for a while after that, unable to think about anything except Travis. Eventually your eyes fluttered closed and you drifted off to sleep, warmed by his arm around your stomach.
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kix-mm · 9 months
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Whatever happens... A, B, and C
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"Hey C? Buddy? How're you doing in there? Are you ready to come out yet?"
Their question was met with a cold silence, but B could do nothing about the unpleasant response. It was meant to still be a secret between B and A, with the idea being that once they had reached their third month's anniversary of their relationship that they would tell C. But the surprise came a little too early.
A bent down. "Have they still not come out yet? It's been an hour..." They spoke in a soft and hopeless tone, which was conflicting with their usual upbeat personality.
"No..." B replies while eying the bathroom door. "I just hope they'll be okay... what if they don't like us anymore after this? I don't want to lose them. This is exactly what we were trying to prevent..." he says while silently acknowledging the irony of this whole situation.
B knocks on the little door again. "C? Please come out...". "N-no!..." came a soft squeak, which very briefly settled B and A's worry that their partner had somehow managed to escape through the window. They knew it would actually be impossible for C, but the fear was still there, C had a tendency to accomplish the impossible, such as dating two people who were secretly giants.
The two shared a look of grief, and A could see how B's mind was tumbling: "What if they break up with us? W-what if they leave us?" B asked with a choked voice. "Then we let them... it's not right to hold someone hostage. That would definitely make us monsters. C is already so overwhelmed..." A spoke with pain in their heart. At first, A wanted to pry the door open and get ahold of C, but now that they've thought things through it would most likely never go well.
"I miss them..." B hugged themselves tighter. "I miss them so much, and they're right here. They're so close, and we're losing them A... what do we do..?" A sighs "I don't know..."
Hours continued to fly by till the early morning, around 4. C finally decided to have a peek outside the bathroom to investigate the silence. They almost yelped when he saw how close the two were to the door, A was snuggled up to B, they both looked exhausted. To C, this was a relief. This was their chance to get the hell out of here... C grabbed their keys and bag off the counter and quietly made their way to the door. They took their time to observe their home for a final time and made some connections, such as why the ceiling was so high and why the two always had a glimmer in their eyes whenever they saw each other... C always thought it was because they were in love, which may have been the case, but also because the two shared a deep secret with one another... one that they never deemed necessary to tell C despite being their partner. Maybe C's insecure thoughts were right about them being nothing more than a third wheel.
Suddenly, he noticed B's eyes flicker open. In a panic, C rushes to the door, his steps waking the both of them. He pulled on the door and... nothing. It didn't budge, he tried again, then he tried pushing, nothing. Finally, he looked up from the handle and saw A's hand pressed against the top. Fear struck his already broken heart as he felt it sink to his stomach. He spun back towards the bathroom to see that his safe haven had been blocked off by B.
C looked up at the two with frantic eyes, unable to get his legs to move. He had no real other pace to hide as their layout was rather open. B gently reached to make contact with C, but C jolted away as if B's fingers were knives. "D-Don't touch me!" C hated how the fear rang in his voice, how he stammered in front of them. C never was one to speak up for himself. He was the timid and soft-spoken one of the three.
B and A kept their distance, looking down at C with pleading eyes, please C please don't go. Let us explain, let us hold you, show you that we would never hurt you.
But their silent pleading fell on deaf ears. C stared at the two with blurry eyes, tears obscuring his vision. "Let me go." he rests his hand on the handle, looking at A. Please let me get out of here.
A & B share a look before returning their eyes to C. "Let us first explain ourselves... please Cc?" B pleaded with an all too familiar nickname that made C feel uneasy hearing at the moment.
C's legs were ready to make a run for it as soon as either one made an attempt to grab him again, he was particularly eying B for that distinct twitch they'd show when they lost their patience. This would be C's only chance to speak their mind before something were to happen to them. "I... no, I've heard enough, I've... I've seen enough. I don't know why you'd keep such a big secret from me for so long! I'm not a stranger. We've known each other for years! And not once was I ever considered your equal! I-I'm just that easy to get forget about, aren't I? The small third party! Quick and easy to get rid of!" C's breathing quickened, and his blood boiled, yet he still kept his voice lowered. Regret began to almost instantly set in after he was done talking back at the two in such a tone, he swore that the two were now staring right through him. How dare he speak to them that way, how dare he try to question their decisions when he was so disposable to them?
Instead, A let out a very pitiful sniffle, a gate of tears rolled down their cheeks. "We're sorry, we're so, so sorry... we really messed up this whole plan." they say while trying to wipe all those messy tears off. Wanting nothing more than to be given a second chance to try and be better at how they handled the situation. They wanted to explain how scared they were of C's reaction and how they knew he would be scared if they had revealed this secret any sooner.
B held A's hand before looking at C. "C... no, no C, you're not! Don't say that! Please get that out of your head it was never meant to get so out of hand. We swear we would have told you a-and it was supposed to be a whole setup and everything!" Slowly B moved their hand closer to C. C hadn't even noticed B's hand. they were too occupied by their heart ringing in their ears and the sight of A sobbing in B's arms. Even B looked completely heartbroken.
When C suddenly felt B's hand wrap around his waist and legs, he began to frantically squirm, watching and attempting to push away any enclosing fingers that hugged his body. "n-no stop! Stop!!" C yelped. "I-it's okay! It's okay, I won't drop you, I promise you C..." B spoke with a gentle yet strained voice, trying to hide the pump in his throat as he felt his panicked lover squirm and scratch. Wincing a little as he felt warm tears drip down his fingers.
A quickly wiped his tears and let B open their hand. The two had talked for hours about what it would be like to hold C in their hands, how they wanted C to take naps, demand being held, how soft he would feel... this would probably not be the case anymore... "Cc..." A spoke softly. B looked at C. "I'm sorry I... I just wanted to be near you. Please don't be scared, A and I... we were trying to prevent this reaction, but it just happened. A-and now everything seems forced and-and the timing is terrible and we're scared we're going to lose you! We don't want to lose you C. Please, please believe us, we promise there's nothing else to hide from you, we will tell you everything... let us prove it to you... we will do anything to make up for this mess."
C was a shivering mess. They looked at both lovers like they were predators despite the duo's best attempts to calm him, giving gentle rubs and holding him against their chest. Talking to him with a soft and sweet voice that tried to reassure him that he was safe and that they would never hurt him while also repeatedly apologizing. This continued till the sun rose, and C finally passed out on B's chest.
The two laid him in bed, their poor C was exhausted, their cheeks stained with tear marks and their eyes were puffy, their body never stopped shivering and every now and then they'd jolt and mumble incoherently. The two looked at each other with equally stained cheeks and puffy eyes. They decided it would be best for them to shrink down to the size C was familiar with. B held C's hand and gently kissed their forehead while A kissed C's cheek and snuggled up to spoon him. The 3 got cuddled up together and fell into a deep sleep... hopefully, when C woke up, they'd be more willing to talk. But they couldn't be certain. All they could really focus on was that C was in their arms, and hopefully, after some time, they'd be able to sleep together without fear.
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apollos-olives · 5 months
Note
hey, so, someone linked me this article, to "prove" to me that i should "condemn hamas". as a non-palestinian i was told there is no way i can refute this, since it comes from a gazan. i was wondering if, as a journalist and a palestinian, you would mind writing a rebuttal that i could show to people? if you have the time and energy.
https://www.newsweek.com/hamass-western-apologists-have-become-hamas-enthusiasts-gazan-im-horrified-opinion-1849228
okay sure let's go through this together
first thing i urge you is to be weary about propaganda. this person may be getting paid, blackmailed, or just genuinely might be brainwashed, in order to write this.
second is that this article might genuinely be this persons opinion 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ and if it is, i urge you to come and analyze it with me in order to point out it's faults
third, let me say that NO ONE is forced to support hamas as an entirety. but as this person's article states, he is against hamas even as a freedom fighter group, so i'm gonna walk you through some of his bullshit okay :)
one thing i noticed is that there is a LOT of propaganda that was debunked in the past that is still being used in this article
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the actual number of "civilians" killed was 900, most of which were actually killed by the iof as they shot at their own "civilians" and soliders. so the author of this article may not be as educated as he might make you think he is.
he's saying that the attack on oct 7 wasn't a "legitimate armed resistance to occupation" but it literally was. there are like a billion un resolutions that state that armed resistance against an occupier is allowed. hamas has every right to fight back against israel. and what? you think armed resistance isn't going to get messy??? of course it will. it is already messy. people are going to die no matter what. that is how you fight against your oppressor. people will die. that's the whole "armed resistance" part. this person is utterly ignorant if he thinks that we can free palestine by a few peaceful protests (which i will come back to soon!)
and yeah what is wrong with "contextualizing" the attack by telling people that gazans are living in a concentration camp?? because they are. and they have every right to fight back. hamas wasn't the only one who was resisting that day, and more than one palestinian resistance group were there as well. condemning only hamas for this shit is idiotic and honestly grouping ALL palestinians, even ones who were not part of hamas, as hamas is... well do i gotta say it? racist.
this author is using a lot of words like "horrific nature" ...... palestinians who fight against their oppressors have a "horrific nature" ???? doesn't that sound... racist to you? and what "numbers" are involved ???? 900 "civilians" that were killed by their own army???? yeah. what massive numbers that hamas killed ooohhhhhh 😰😰
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bruhhh this shit sounds like the whole "hamas is their new fandom" bullshit 💀💀💀 also where is he seeing this stuff???? how are bulldozers, paragliders, and motorcycles showing support to hamas?????? maybe they're just people who support palestine in general and mean to use them as symbols of resistance. mocking the "underprivileged fight back" hmmmm that sure sounds so inclusive and supportive of you mister palestinian author!!
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this guy brings up international law when LITERALLY THAT IS THE WHOLE POINT. BY INTERNATIONAL LAW HAMAS AND OTHER PALESTINIANS ARE ALLOWED TO FIGHT BACK AGAINST THEIR OPPRESSORS. BY "ALL MEANS NECESSARY" - ughhh this is exhausting. and the fact that they call hamas enthusiasts (💀) "inhumane" ... wowwww what happened to the whole "stop dehumanizing poc and the oppressed" ???? this guy is a fucking weirdo.
and again with the "civilians" dude seriously???? israeli civilians are illegal settlers. there are no innocent israelis except for the children, and any harm that may come to the children should put the parents to be held accountable for bringing/settling their child into a land that isn't theirs anyway.
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why would you equate being jewish with israel?? yeah a lot of israelis are jewish but pro-palestine jews have repeatedly told us that we should not and must not equate judaism and israel together, and that doing that is antisemitic because it's equating judaism as a supporter of genocide.
and why are you, as a palestinian, calling what's happening in palestine a "conflict" ??? even after years and years of palestinians begging for people to stop seeing it and calling it a conflict and name it for what it is, systematic ethnic cleansing and genocide ?? this guy's wording is ridiculous and so full of that "both sides" liberalism shit it's so exhausting.
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wow we love the blatant propaganda. you could tell that the hostages were comfortable enough to wave or handshake the members who released them. they were smiling, no one was forcing them to do that. no one was threatening them harm. many family members have spoken out and have told the media that hamas has treated the hostages well, even if the conditions weren't very glorious.
and AGAIN with the whole "women and children" as if men weren't victims too. you are trying to push for the safety of israelis but disregard the men ???? hm
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wow calling palestinians terrorists that's totally not racist at all!!!!
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ohhh my god how many times do we have to say that peaceful protests DO NOT WORK !!! no one is listening to us. we've TRIED peacefully protesting. gazans tried peacefully protesting a few years back and HUNDREDS got killed and THOUSANDS got injured!!!! peaceful protesting isn't going to work alone. we need action!! we need to start fighting back!!! we need to make a difference!! palestinians have been begging for people to do this for years now!!!
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what "slogans" ????? "from the river to the sea" ???? is that a dangerous slogan, mister palestinian author ?????? don't make me laugh.
and there is a FINE line between anti zionism and antisemitism. yes a lot of zionists are jews but also a lot of christian zionists are antisemites as well. we are allowed to call out and fight anti zionism without being antisemitic. but i guess you would know SO much about that huh, mister palestinian author.
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wow what a totally normal thing to say!!! linking palestinians to their constant suffering under the occupation and linking them to be forever tied to their oppressors. "millions of jews will forever be part of the land" YES !!! PALESTINIAN JEWS !!! WHO WERE FOREVER PART OF THE LAND !!!!
ok that's all for the screenshots but i DO want to mention that not once did this guy say ANYTHING about how hamas was bad for gaza. he did not say anything or show any proof about gazans suffering under hamas' rule, and only talked about the "poor israelis" ☹️☹️☹️ who were huwt becawse they wewe illegal settlews on a land that's not theiw's :((((((
this guy was probably paid or blackmailed or something. or just brainwashed.
many palestinians ARE anti hamas as a whole. but we DO support their fight for our freedom.
i hope this helps. keep these arguments in mind next time you're reading an article.
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m00nsbaby · 10 months
Text
Sleepwalking. (Already over II)
Steven Grant ( + Marc Spector) x F! Reader.
First part: Already Over.
Next part: Clumsy.
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Tags & warnings. Angst, like, just angst. Steven hurts his hand at the beggining so there's blood involved, Marc is kind of a... jerk.
Word count. 3.8k
Summary.
What a shame, what a shame, what a shame, It's all fun and games 'til you don't wanna play now. Run away, run away, run away, It's easy to say but it's harder to say now. You're onto something else, I'm a picture left on your shelf. The dream's a lie I tell myself Feel like I'm sleepwalking when you're gone. 
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The moment the bomb detonated was more horrible than Marc had imagined. Not only because of Steven, who in his mind was the worst of his problems, but because the moment you closed the door behind you, it felt as if you had taken his heart with you.
Marc collapsed on the floor, unable to cry, even if he wanted to. He wasn't like Steven; he couldn't just let it flow, but at this moment, it seemed more like he was in shock.
He wondered, did that really happen or am I just dreaming?
His body tensed for a few seconds; he closed his eyes tightly, and before he could protest, Steven had taken control of the body. He had struggled so hard to keep him in the shadows that his body felt exhausted, with a horrible burning sensation in his muscles.
"Marc?" he questioned out loud, still on the floor. "Marc? What did you do?"
There was no response, and he could only swallow hard as if it would help wash away the bad taste in his mouth.
"What did you do, Marc?" Sometimes the best part of having Steven was having a way to express his pain. By the third time he asked, his voice was already broken, his vision blurred by the tears that threatened to come out at any moment.
Finally, the other one had the courage to respond.
"L-Layla knows," was the only thing that sounded in the headspace.
"How am I going to fix this, Marc?" Memories of what happened just a few minutes ago came to him in flashes; he didn't have the whole conversation because Marc had forced him to stay in the shadows.
The mere image of your heartbroken gaze was enough to cause nightmares for the rest of his life, whether he managed to fix Marc's mistake or not.
"I don't care; I don't care about her!" He sobbed with anger coursing through him from head to toe. At this point, his pain seemed more physical than emotional. He felt exactly like that time when he was impaled multiple times in Cairo.
But worse. At that time, he had a suit to protect him. How would he deal with this now without anything to shield him?
"You can't go on like this, Steven, we can't…"
As if his body moved automatically, he headed for the nearest mirror, the one where you had sought him out for help. His hands stopped on the edge of the sink, and he stared fixedly at himself in the mirror.
Tears flowed freely, seeking to heal a wound the size of his chest.
"I hate you," he whispered with a voice shattered, Marc looked back at him trying to maintain his composure. The pain of a broken heart combined with his constant battle with pride; he would never admit that he might be wrong. "You ruined it, Marc, you ruined everything."
"I did? I ruined everything?" Marc's ironic laughter made his blood boil. "I told you a damn million times, Steven!" The screams made him startle, but he was determined to hide his weakness. He was finally ready to face him. "I told you to stay away from her; was it fair to snatch away the one thing I have?"
Steven's fist went straight to the mirror. He didn't break it, but he shattered the reflection of Marc into many small pieces, and his knuckles were bleeding in a matter of seconds.
"My life is made to support yours." When Steven's fixed gaze met his, Marc had time to question how they had come to this after supposedly fixing things. Was this also his entire fault? "And I understood it, I swear to God I did." Sometimes he had to pause to sniff through his nose. "All I've done is give everything for you, and you took away everything I had."
There was only silence from the other side of the mirror.
"You took her away from me, Marc." His voice gradually lowered; suddenly, he reverted to the old Steven, with a broken heart and his guard down. The one that made him think so much of his younger brother. "What do I have in life if it's not her?"
More silence. Of course, Steven was in the same predicament as him, clinging to something that brought them happiness.
The difference was that for him, it wasn't exactly Layla.
"We were happy with Layla." His broken voice was barely perceptible.
"You were happy." He looked at his fingers, as the blood continued to run through them. "You were happy with stability, happy hiding from problems with stupid adventures that make you forget how bad your life is outside of there."
The amount of resentment in his voice was terrifying. Painful.
"You were happy pretending to be someone you're not." He closed his eyes, letting the tears flow freely. "You were happy pretending I didn't exist."
"S-Steven, I, I, don't…"
There was no more conversation at that moment. Not for the rest of the day. Or the night. Marc was a silent witness to how Steven cried until his throat was raw, how his entire body trembled, and how an nauseating knot formed in his stomach, paralyzing all his muscles.
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The next day was a nightmare worse than the previous one. For the first time in a long while, Steven was able to sleep the hours that a normal human needed to function, but the problem was that, of course, these hours had been filled with nightmares and dreams where only you were present. Waking up to the reality where everything was worse was an emotional burden that filled his eyes with tears in the first minutes of regaining consciousness.
Well, he had to start trying. He picked up his phone, the one you always teased him about because it was the oldest phone you had ever seen.
First call, first voicemail.
"Love? Could you answer the calls? I really need to talk to you, I'm so sorry for the things Marc said yesterday."
Second call, second voicemail.
"I'm so sorry, really, please, please answer, okay? I need you."
Third call, third voicemail.
"It was never my intention to hurt you," and yes, for a change, Steven was taking responsibility for Marc's mistakes. "And I know it wasn't his either, he's just… damaged and scared. Please, love, please, let's talk."
Fourth call, fourth voicemail.
"We can't throw away all our plans, love." He didn't fear that you could hear his sobs or the way he struggled for breath between sentences. "I want to be with you. I want to be with you until the last day of my life, please, please."
The fifth call didn't go through. It seemed like you had turned off your phone. Fifth voicemail.
"I know you don't want to see me right now." He had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I just want to talk to you. It's all I'm asking for, it doesn't have to be now, just give me a sign that I can come closer, I'm begging you."
He didn't give up. If it were up to his anxiety, his love, or his fear of abandonment, he would have called you a total of 20 times per hour. But he knew you wanted and needed space. All that was left was to pray that you would hear his messages and give him the slightest sign of life.
In the end, he returned to bed, laying face down, and closed his eyes for just a few seconds.
"Steven?"
"What?"
"The body."
"Huh?"
"Give me the body."
"What do you mean…?"
"I need to go talk to Layla."
"You must be kidding." Steven barely lifted his head to see the mirror resting on one of the furniture next to his bed.
The one he never touched because it had a lipstick mark from you in one corner. A perfectly formed kiss. There was Marc.
"Tell me you're joking."
"Give me the body or I will take it from you."
Steven had no strength to fight, he relented and hoped for a little peace in the darkness of his mind.
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That afternoon, Marc apologized tirelessly, and yes, he preferred a million times to falsely accept that he had had an affair than to confess Steven's existence.
"Forgive me, okay? I made a mistake." His hands cradled Layla's face between them. Of course, he had made a mistake, although he didn't specify what kind.
"You're an idiot, Marc." And he couldn't help but think that yes, indeed, he was. There weren't many more words exchanged between them, but unfortunately, this relationship was an imbalanced scale.
It was about two people who simply didn't know how to deal with their emotions, didn't know how to communicate with each other, and undoubtedly had never dealt with their emotional baggage separately to understand that they needed to work to become better.
He couldn't help but notice the parallel. He doesn't remember the romantic part of your relationship with Steven because Steven himself took great care to hide it perfectly, but Marc is aware of every aspect of what your friendship was.
He remembers every argument, if they could even be called that. You two never raised your voices, never.
And you, as the apparent best friend, knew Marc's story inside out, you were never one to raise your voice, but you were always careful not to trigger a bad memory in Steven.
On his part, Steven was incredible at listening. He listened attentively, didn't interrupt, and when you finished talking, he would explain his perspective. You didn't always reach an agreement, that was obvious, but you always knew that you both were much more important to each other than any silly disagreement.
Marc thought about how he would have liked to be as honest as Steven was when Layla's lips were on him. When his way of clarifying things was to have the grossest sex of both their lives.
Usually, the best part of spending these kinds of nights with her was that it meant a mental break with you in exactly two days. Although Steven never understood why you refused to see him the next day, Marc always knew why you felt disgusted. In fact, he understood perfectly, but he never had the courage to tell you that he was sorry.
Thinking that not only were you in love with Steven but that you were also a couple fueled his self-disgust even more.
"I love you, Marc." That was the last thing he heard before leaving his wife's house, which at every moment felt more like a stranger to him.
He didn't respond, and like everyone else around him, she settled for it because everyone always accommodates themselves to Marc Spector's wishes.
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Each passing hour, you were crumbling in a worse way. Probably "dead inside" was one of the best ways to describe your current state.
The stages of grief were starting to attack you, very slowly, but you didn't want to be rational because calling it "grief" would mean that you had lost Steven forever.
And you had, but you didn't want to think about that. After all, you were still in the first stage, denial.
It took you a few hours to decide to listen to his voicemails.
"My baby." You whispered to yourself as your arms clung to one of the many garments you had stolen from him. His navy blue sweater that was too long on the sleeves.
You felt ridiculous.
You sobbed forcefully, your cheek had been tingling for a while from the warmth and moisture of your tears on the pillow. Did the breakup hurt? Of course, it hurt to the core, but after hearing his broken voice on the other end of the line, what was probably hurting you the most was knowing that Steven was suffering.
It felt like they were being forcibly torn apart, although it had felt that way from the moment their relationship began. The rope had been tightening around each of you, pulling you apart at the cost of permanently hurting them.
You were sure you would never love anyone the way you loved and still love Steven. Steven would rather vanish than even imagine a life with someone else.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whispered as the fabric of his sweater covered part of your face, with the sole purpose of sniffing and recapturing a bit of his scent. The garment had been in your possession for so long that you could barely perceive Steven in it anymore.
You apologized for not being more discreet, for, in your opinion, ruining your perfect relationship, maybe for not knowing how to keep your distance when there was still time. You apologized for being so deeply in love that you felt like you couldn't live without him, for choosing to look out for yourself instead of running into his arms, and for any inconveniences you might have caused Marc one day.
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Steven and you were on autopilot. Barely eating, barely breathing, barely existing.
You somehow managed to get up and shower after receiving the call from the pet adoption center confirming that the form you and Steven had filled out had been approved, and now you just had to go for 3 days, 2 hours to visit your future pet.
A part of you momentarily thought about ignoring the call, you were so broken that the mere thought of that visit together ended up squeezing your heart painfully, not to mention that the whole plan from the beginning was for the cat to belong to both of you.
Your rational side was always stronger than you, you couldn't leave the little one without a home. Besides, maybe you needed the company.
Perhaps he would do you good, and you would do everything possible to do right by him.
Needless to say, on the first day of bonding, you cried until your lungs hurt, with the little kitten in your arms. He was so affectionate, providing excellent comfort, but you didn't stop crying for a single moment during the 2 hours.
Then you cried more on the way back home because you had to say goodbye to him.
On the second day, you only cried half of the visit because when the cat started playing in front of you, it drew a small laugh from you for the way he twirled around.
On the last day, you found him waiting for you, ready to settle on your lap. It was as if he understood that you were exhausted, and his purring felt like receiving a hug. You were a perfect match.
Meanwhile, Marc was living days that were going from bad to worse. Steven refused to speak to him more than necessary, but everything hurt twice as much when the breakdowns started coming back. As he took another sip of his whiskey, he realized that this time he had nowhere to go, that he would probably never hear you say "I'm here" again to keep him sane, that your arms wouldn't surround him, and you wouldn't leave him a space in your bed that was a million times more comfortable than his. Accepting that he missed you churned his stomach. Because, of course, it wasn't the first time he had thought of you since you left, but it was the first time he lowered his guard enough to digest that all of this was his fault. That he had hurt you in a permanent way while you had only given him peace whenever you could. Steven understood that both of them were fucked up when he finally saw Marc cry. When Marc finally cracked.
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Steven almost had a heart attack when he received a message from you. There was no text, just a photo of the kitten he recognized perfectly.
He wasn't aware of the smile that appeared on his face. One, he could see that the background of the photo was your apartment, which meant the kitten was already with you. Two, perhaps this meant that not everything was lost.
"Can I come see him?" He was biting his nails while waiting for your response. "Sure."
Steven left his apartment so quickly that his curls were still damp from the shower he took in a matter of seconds. He didn't care about being on the most crowded bus if it meant getting to your apartment faster.
Exactly 22 minutes after your message, he was standing at your door.
The smile on his face vanished when you opened the door. Both of you looked like a mess, in pain, and by this point, you had accepted that your eyes would be swollen and irritated for the rest of your days.
You didn't approach him for a hug like he thought would happen. You also took a few seconds to analyze him from head to toe.
He was as beautiful as ever. His messy curls made him look even more adorable. A meow echoed behind you, snapping you back to the present.
"Do you want to come in?"
"Please."
Everything was so… awkward. You stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.
"Sekhmet?"
"Yes."
"I told you that's the name of a goddess, not a god," he said as he crouched down to pet the kitten, who seemed to recognize Steven. The little one rubbed against him, purring loudly, audible to both of you.
"And I told you I didn't care."
A nostalgic laugh escaped both of you. Why was all of this so difficult?
"Hello, Sekhmet." His pronunciation was perfect. You couldn't believe you had the love of your life in front of you after everything that happened.
And worse, you couldn't believe you were about to let him go, for the second time.
"He likes you." You whispered, watching them get to know each other with a lump in your throat. This was nothing like what you had imagined at first; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.
Everything was wrong.
"Steven?"
"Yes, love?" It rolled so casually off his tongue. You didn't remember Steven calling you by your name much, it was always "love" or "lovey" for him, and you were content with that.
This time, you felt a pang in your heart when he used the nickname.
"We have to do this." Your voice broke, and when he noticed your teary eyes, he understood the purpose of the visit. There was no way out of this.
"No, please." He looked up at you from the floor, still on his knees because the kitten refused to leave him. "Please, don't do this."
He broke down quickly too.
"I love you, Steven." Your hand went to his chin, holding him in a way that he couldn't look away from you. "And because I love you, it's only fair that we do this, you and I. Okay?"
He kept denying and denying. Ignoring the insistent meows, he stood up. Now you were the one who had to look up due to the difference in height.
Your heart rate increased with the closeness between you two.
"I don't want to say goodbye." The lump in his throat could be heard in his voice. "I don't want to be alone. I can't do it without you." You couldn't bear to tell him otherwise when you knew you were in the same position.
You stood on tiptoes and, without letting him continue, kissed his lips.
Even his kisses tasted like pain. They were desperate, almost violent in the way he clung to your waist and you to his neck.
You remained like that for a few minutes, tasting each other's tears on your lips until your lungs gave up. It felt like an eternity during which you exchanged kisses and embraced each other between sobs. It genuinely felt like you were tearing a part of yourselves away.
An eternity was not enough for either of you.
"Steven." Your hands on his chest pulled him away just a few centimeters from you to face him. His forehead rested against yours while he hiccuped from crying.
He was your little one. He always had been. Your sweet, sweet Steven. He deserved more than everything life was giving him, and in some way, you and Marc knew it.
"You have to go, okay?" He didn't respond, you just felt his fingers tighten their grip on your waist. "You will be fine, I know you will be." Your fingers roamed through his curls, messing them up even more, and you enjoyed their softness one last time.
"I won't be able to. L-Lovey, I w-won't…"
"Shhh. You will be able to, okay?" The tip of your nose gently brushed against his in an affectionate and intimate gesture. "You will get through this, and you will have the beautiful life that I've always known you deserve."
"I don't want it if it's not with you." His fingers crumpled your clothes from the force of holding onto you.
You lowered your hands to his and slowly made him let go, he shook his head again.
"You have to do this for Marc, okay?" You swallowed hard when his hands finally relented and let go of your waist. "And maybe, if it's meant to be, fate will let us know in the future. Okay?"
Bullshit.
You wanted to be with him now, and he wanted to be with you now, but you were grasping at every possible resource to try to make him understand.
"I need to be alone, okay?" You knew he wouldn't leave unless you hinted that you were uncomfortable with the situation.
Always so respectful, he took a step back and nodded, even though his hands were trembling. He didn't say anything, just looked at you as he stepped back again.
"I love you," you whispered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
"I love you." It was the only thing he could say. He was about to leave when his legs gave an awkward twitch.
Marc.
Steven looked down, frowning slightly at the momentary loss of control over his body. If Marc was going to object, now was the perfect time because Steven knew he was the only one who could fix this.
His stubbornness was the only obstacle preventing you from being happy.
And yes, Marc wanted to talk. But when he saw you, he knew he would never find the words to fix what he did.
His fear of change hit him again. Why was he regretting this when apparently this was what he wanted from the beginning?
He parted his lips and tried to say something that never came out of his throat. He gave up in seconds and basically fled your apartment, closing the probably happiest chapter of his life in a long time.
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naomiswonderland · 5 months
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Désolé
A week had passed since Michéle’s brother had punched the boy who had played a joke on her. Of course she felt anger and embarrassment when water soaked up her entire school clothes but now that her brother was on the brim of getting expelled and her classmate had possibly lost an eye, she only felt utter guilt.
Her mind was clouded with all the possible outcomes that could come with her brother getting expelled. Would she even be able to keep staying at her new school? Would her parents also blame her? My god, Jean-Pierre will hate me forever! She thought when suddenly an arm wrapped around her shoulder.
“Morning!” Simones smile was brighter than ever that it could even make her feel a little better. “Morning Simone” Michéle replied but her voice came out different than she expected. “Oh my, are you still thinking about that dumb boy? It’s been a week, everyone’s already forgotten all about him.” She reassured her friend although it didn’t help much. “I’m not really concerned about him but more about my brother.” Michéle dragged her feet to school which she dreaded more than ever, her teachers and classmates all assume that she’s stuck up and gets a free pass because of her uncle now. Way to start off the new school year.
Can this get any worse? She thought to herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll always be by your side.” Michéle smiled, at least one person was making her feel less awful. As soon as the two friends entered through the school gate it was chatter all over the place. Yet the real talk of the school would enter minutes after. There he was, Joseph Descamps with an eye patch covering his left eye. It was dead quiet while he walked towards his friends, not missing a single glance at Michéle. She felt intimidated and scared although she was convinced he wouldn’t try doing something to her again because of her brother.
For a week she had been trying to reassure herself that he had it coming and that it wasn’t really her fault in the first place. She pressed her lips together tightly, her brows furrowing as she glanced at her friend once more, a similar expression on her face as well. Arm in arm they walked to class silently even though Simone tried to change the topic from time to time it was no use.
Time had passed and Michéle was sat in Latin for her second period. For the whole day she had been glancing at Joseph from time to time, even though he pretended not to notice he shared her glances a few times which left Michéle embarrassed and scribbling on paper, pretending to do something. “I’m so not ready for pe in third period. My bruise is so big! You cannot imagine how embarrassing it’s gonna be if people notice.” Simone whispered. “I don’t think it matters that much. That’s noting compared to Jospeh’s eye.” Although Michéle hadn’t intended for her reply to sound funny , Simone who felt absolutely no remorse let out a small cackle which caught the attention of the teacher.
“Is something funny?” Mr Douillard asked with an irritated tone which left the girl’s shaking their heads profusely. “You can stand outside if my lesson is boring you two!” He demanded and pointed at the door. Good, got in trouble once again. Michéle shut her eyes tightly as she and Simone left the classroom to stand out front. “He really needs to tone it down a bit. So dramatic!” Simone exclaimed in a louder tone than necessary which made Michéle alarm her to keep her voice down. “We have thin walls here, he can still hear us!”
Not a second later the door opened and left Simone and Michéle wide eyed. Had he really heard them?! A tall figure with his hands in his pocket appeared in front of them. It was Joseph. His eyes landed on the red haired girl as he stood there for a few seconds, watching her play with her fingers. Michéle averted her gaze as he walked past them, his shoulder intentionally bumping into Michéles smaller frame. “Watch it!” Simone yelled in an angry tone. “Who does he think he is?!” But Michéle knew that he was angry and was probably going to let his anger out on her…
————————————————————————————
It was during break in which Michéle noticed her brother looking nervous and sweating profusely. Yes, today was his disciplinary hearing. “Are you even listening?“ Simone asked. “Huh? What?” Michéle looked at her friend that was sitting across from her. “No, sorry what were you saying?” “Ugh, I was talking about the new movie that just came out!” Simone’s voice faded into the background as she scanned the whole school yard but her brother was nowhere to be found. Then she saw Joseph walking to the bathroom, even though it seemed normal something was odd about the way he walked nervously looking around. As soon as their eyes met she knew something was wrong. Before she could do anything the school bell rang. “Simone you can go first, I’ll be running a little late, okay?“ “What? Why?” “Just go.” She said and ran to the boys bathroom as the yard was getting emptied.
Her hand reached for the doorknob when the door suddenly opened with a mischievous laughing Joseph. His smile disappeared once he saw Michéle standing in front of him. “The hell do you want?” His gaze was filled with anger and disgust. Gosh, he really hated her. “Oh, did you wanna go in for a quickie?“ he smirked but was met only with Michéles confused face. “Is my brother in there?” She ignored his weird statement and tried to look past his shoulder before the door closed. The only thing she could see was a broom locking a door and few faint yells. Panic set on Michéles face as she put the pieces together. “Did you lock my brother in the toilet stall?!” She yelled and tried to push past him.
“Oh no, leave my brother alone!” He mocked her voice as he blocked her way into the boys bathroom. “Stop it! Both of you!” Michéle and Joseph looked at Mr Bellanger who would definitely not let Michéle in or get into the bathroom as well. “Have you lost your mind? Fighting like this on the school yard!” “But Uncle, my brother-“ “I will be seeing him in the teachers office for his disciplinary hearing. Don’t make this any harder for him, Michéle. His options aren’t looking too good right now.” Michéle looked at him, brows furrowed as she felt the guilt she tried to suppress resurfacing and swallowing her whole. Suddenly the three of them heard a commotion in the bathroom and then a loud yell. The door opened and an angry Jean-Pierre was met with three surprised faces.
“I’m so sorry, Mr Bellanger. I was.. locked in the bathroom stall by this idiot! My Jacket, it’s ruined!” He stated. “Am I late? Do we still have time?” Michéle had never seen her brother this distressed before. He was usually so put together calm and rational but now she was causing him trouble. “You can wear my jacket and you two better get to class right now!” Her uncle exclaimed as she made her way to the gymnasium with Joseph.
“You’re horrible!” She stated and gave him a dirty look which he did likewise. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed the girl by the arm, yanking her back to him. His finger pointed at his eye patch. “I’m horrible? Look at what your fucking brother did to my face!” He said, his tone angry but he didn’t yell. “All because of you.” He whispered. “You started it!” She yelled and tried to push him off of her. “I felt bad in the beginning but now I realise you completely deserved it!” She retorted which only made Joseph tighten his grip around her arm.
“Let her go!” A voice appeared behind the two of them. Michéle looked past Joseph’s shoulder and met eyes with Laubrac. A wave of relief washed over her as Joseph let go of her and she quickly made her way over to her classmat. “Well if it isn’t the foster kid and the deans niece.” Joseph smirked, putting his hands back into his pocket.
a/n: i’m really not sure if this was written okay and I hope you guys like the idea! I really wanted to ask you for ideas but I thought I couldn’t keep you guys waiting any longer. Im really open for any visions and stuff that you guys have just comment them or put on my ask thingy (I’m not even sure I have one tbh). Just bombard me with some ideas I’d really like that<3 i hope you guys liked this
tags: @ssnowville @
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