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ericspinkhair · 3 years

Text

wedding fun

pairing: dom!eric, dom!sunwoo x sub! reader (no gender specified but has a vagina)

word count: 2.7k

synopsis: it’s Changmin’s sister’s wedding and his younger sibling gets super drunk and loses their virginity to Eric and Sunwoo

a/n: please send in requests!

y/s/n = your sister’s name

pt. 2

masterlist + requests

Tears were welling up as you saw your beautiful sister walk down the aisle, holding onto your dad’s arm. She looked absolutely stunning with her dark hair in a fancy updo and the silver makeup shimmering on her face. Her eyelids were painted a lovely purple and the exact same color could also be found on all the bridesmaids’ dresses. After all, it was her favorite color.

Y/s/n took the hands of her very-soon-to-be-husband and looked him deep in the eyes. Everyone in the room could see the love these two had for each other. You were wondering whether you would ever be able to find this kind of love in your life. This far you had been unsuccessful and being alone scared you. But being an idol also made having a significant other very difficult so you love would not be an option for a long time.

Immersed in your own thoughts, you were taken by surprise when you heard “I do’’ already coming out of your sisters mouth.

“And do you, Kim Hanseob, take y/s/n as your beloved wife and promise to stay by her side until death do you part?’’ The room was filled with anticipation as everyone waited for him to answer. You swore to god if he didn’t say yes you’d haunt him down and make sure to kick him there where it really - “I do,” he said and before the priest could continue he had already cupped your sister’s face and planted a passionate kiss on her lips.

You could feel tears running down your cheeks and tried to wipe them away. Your eyes met your brother's, Changmin, who also appeared to be crying and he flashed you a big smile. You grinned back.

Then your gaze fell onto your fellow members who were applauding loudly and cheering. Both your and Changmin's group were invited to sing later. That's why Changmin was sitting with his ten friends/co-workers/members in the audience and, on top of that, six girls were waiting for you there as well. You stood up there in your purple dress near your sister as you had the honor of being the bridesmaid (ever since you were little you had made it very clear that that position would be yours and threatened your sister with various horrifying scenarios in case she chose someone else).

After everyone gave heartbreaking speeches, it was time to dance and get wasted. At least that was what seemed to be planned for you. During your sister’s speech, she told everyone to get you drunk. Apparently that was her biggest wish for the night and only after that could she truly be happily married. You had turned twenty not even two months ago (Korean age) and are now a legal adult who could do adult things like drinking. The first glass was handed to you by Changmin who would not answer what kind of liquor it was and maybe half an hour later you felt quite tipsy.

Y/s/n had requested you to sing ‘Always By Your Side’ (her favorite b-side of your group) so that’s what your group performed. After that The Boyz sang ‘Break Your Rules’ and, surprisingly, Changmin’s friend Sunwoo seemed to be the most into it. Maybe it was the alcohol but you couldn’t stop staring at his luscious lips and pretty smile. His positive energy spread like a virus and the corners of your mouth wouldn’t go down.

Just as you had finished your seventh glass, another one was held right in your face.

“Having fun?” Eric teased you as you took a couple of big sips and smiled contentedly. You had never realized how beautiful this man was. His sharp jawline and divinely carved nose seemed to catch your attention. Gosh, has he always been this attractive? Noticing the slight blush on your cheeks, Eric smirked at you.

You danced a little bit together and just jammed out to the music. You tried not to look at him in fear you might not be able to take your eyes off of him. You had always sworn that Changmin’s friends were off limits. Especially his members. But it wasn’t your fault that he had decided to look so damn fine in his suit today.

Suddenly someone tapped you on your shoulder and when you turned around you saw a fine as hell looking Sunwoo smiling brightly at you two. He was holding a tray with shots and handed them to you. Y’all linked arms and downed the liquor. Since you've had multiple glasses already, you didn’t even really feel the burn in your throat anymore.

You did silly dances like the floss or copied the point dance of ‘Shine’ by Pentagon. Then the music took a different direction and suddenly ‘Whiplash’ by NCT127 was blasting through the speakers. Now you had to adjust your dancing accordingly. Eric and Sunwoo came a lot closer and you could feel their breaths on your face and neck. Not really caring anymore you gave in and moved your body to the rhythm. One of the boys was grinding from the front and one from the back and you could feel something hard poking you from both sides. You ground your body on the two boys and were enjoying how their breathing became heavier and heavier.

Only as Sunwoo started placing wet kisses on your neck did you become aware of your surroundings again. You quickly looked around to see if anyone was staring but the rest seemed to be equally as drunk and immersed in their own stuff. Changmin was having a dance contest with one of your members and Kevin was twerking on the side.

You let out a moan as Eric sucked a hickey on your collar bone. Not wanting them to stop but also being kind of embarrassed at being in a public space, it took you all of your restraint to groan out a “we shouldn’t be doing this here.”

“Wanna go somewhere more private?” wasn’t necessarily the response you had expected. The suggestion had come from Eric who was now caressing your sides while coming dangerously close to your chest. At this point Sunwoo was humping your butt from behind. Your panties were soaked and you were rubbing your legs. Your whole body was screaming to say yes and leave with these two sexy men.

“I know a perfect place here where we can take good care of you. Do you want us to spoil you, baby? We can make you feel so good. You’ll be screaming our names all night. Do you want that?” Sunwoo whispered into your ear. At this proposition you nodded eagerly and the alcohol in your system made your head spin. The triumph was visible in Eric’s face and he took you by your hand and led you away.

As soon as the door to the hall closed, Sunwoo spun you around and crashed his lips onto yours. Your inexperience was overpowered by your intoxicated state of mind. The alcohol seemed to take over and your mouth and tongue moved on their own.

“As much as I would like to join you, we need to go quickly before someone sees us,” Eric urged you and you parted in dismay. The venue your sister had rented for the wedding was huge and you found yourself locked in a room on the fourth floor, far far away from the rest (most importantly from Changmin).

The beautiful purple dress was now lying somewhere in a corner (but you made sure they took it off carefully) and your bra was nowhere in sight. Pressed against the wall both of your nipples were being taken care of by the two boys. Someone was biting, someone was licking and it all felt like heaven. Sunwoo’s thigh in between your legs prevented you from rubbing your legs together but you still got a good amount of friction and rubbed yourself on his muscle.

“Who knew that y/n could be so horny? My leg is completely wet from your pussy.”

“Then take your pants off,” you contered, not knowing what exactly came over you. Sunwoo, as well as Eric, wasted no time in discarding their pants and underwear and left you staring at the two most beautiful dicks you had ever seen. And also the first ones. You didn’t move, not really knowing what to do. They must have noticed too as they each took your hand and led it to their cocks. They slowly guided your hands up and down their shafts. After a while they let go and you rubbed a bit quicker, enjoying the effect you had on them.

The logical next step was to suck so you knelt down. First, you let your tongue taste Sunwoo’s tip and he let out a heavy sigh. Feeling more confident, you started by licking up his shaft before wrapping your mouth around the head. It was big and tasted a bit salty but it felt so good knowing that you were bringing pleasure to this pretty boy.

“Baby, do you want to taste me too?” asked Eric and you switched. Now you were sucking Eric’s length and stroking Sunwoo. Eric let out small moans and grabbed your hair tightly. You looked up at him and admired his physique (you hadn’t noticed that they had taken off their shirts).

They took turns using your mouth and even started gently thrusting and you were a bit overwhelmed with how thick they were. Eric’s pumps were getting quicker but suddenly pulled out. Did you do something wrong?

“Fuck, y/n! You’re going to make me come already. We haven’t even shown you the real thing.” Sunwoo helped you stand up and then pulled your panties down. He picked you up and lay you down on the bed. Before you could register anything happening, you suddenly felt something very wet connecting with your heat. Sunwoo had licked a strip up your pussy. Your body arched as he sucked on your clit, the sensation feeling overwhelming.

“Look how sensitive y/n is. I wonder how our baby will react when we put our dicks inside.”

“I’m a virgin!” you suddenly blurt out. You weren’t sure why you told them but it probably wasn’t wrong to let them know.

“That’s okay, baby,” Eric responded while Sunwoo began fucking you with his tongue, “We’ll take good care of you.”

Sunwoo moved to the side and Eric took his place in between your thighs. He then planted a big kiss on your lips as he pushed one finger inside. The sensation felt a bit foreign. Of course you had fingered yourself before but having someone else do it was very different. Instead of going super fast like you had expected, he took his time. It was easy to adjust and soon you felt another finger at your entrance.

Your pussy took the second digit in as well but this time the discomfort was more noticeable. Apparently it was also visible on your face because Sunwoo began exchanging wet kisses with you and massaged your nipples as a distraction. He mumbled soft praises against your mouth, telling you how good you were being.

“I think y/n is ready,” Eric said after a while. You had been approaching your climax and felt a bit disappointed.

“You do have condoms, right?” you asked a bit panicked, remembering that you were not on the pill. Sunwoo stood up and picked out condoms from their pants. He held them up while smirking at you. Seems like they came prepared.

Once you felt more comfortable, you gave him a nod and he started moving. Sunwoo began very slowly but as you started showing signs of pleasure he increased his speed. He was placing hickeys all over your collarbone and neck and you were tugging at his hair. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see Eric watching you while stroking himself, patiently waiting for his turn. Slowly Sunwoo’s breaths and thrusts started becoming sloppier and then, while moaning out your name, he came hard in his condom.

Sunwoo rolled the condom over his hard penis and aligned himself at your entrance. He stroked your face.

“You have nothing to worry about. Try to relax.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile as if to tell him that you were going to be just fine. He kissed you deeply as he pushed in. The sensation felt overwhelming so you grabbed onto Sunwoo’s arms. He held still while trying to distract you with kisses.

He was trying to catch his breath but Eric left him no time and pushed him aside. Without any hesitation, he shoved his dick right into you and began pumping. He started with an already high speed so you felt quite a strong sensation from the start. He held you by your hips and kept a fast pace. Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure as he was fucking you hard. It didn’t hurt, it was like waves of pleasure were running over you. Since he had already jerked off when Sunwoo had had his turn, he didn’t last as long as the other boy did.

“Can I come on you?” he asked you as he picked up the speed even more. Barely being able to respond you slightly nodded and he suddenly pulled out. He took off the condom, stroked his throbbing length a few times and then shot his load all over your body. Some landed on your belly, some on your tits and some even on your face. Eric let out stuttering groans as he unloaded his cum onto you. Thinking you were done, you tried to get up but was quickly pushed back down onto the mattress.

“You didn’t come yet,” Eric stated matter-of-factly. He lowered his face to your heat and started lapping. You felt very sensitive and gasped in surprise when you felt Sunwoo playing with your clit. Damn, these boys definitely knew what they were doing. Like this, you came closer and closer to your high. At this point you were sure that you were screaming a lot but didn’t know whether anyone could comprehend your words. Feeling that you were almost there, Sunwoo and Eric picked up their pace and, not long after, your eyes rolled back into your head and darkness took over.

Your orgasm was very intense and wet. After your body had finished, you felt very weak and exhausted but satisfied. Not really being able to open your eyes again you just lay there. You barely noticed the boys cleaning you up before sleep overtook you.

You woke up feeling extremely sore in between your legs. Opening your eyes was tough but when you did you wished you hadn’t. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. First of all, you were completely naked and so were the two boys next to you. Even worse was that these were your brother’s members, the only people you had sworn to avoid any romantic (let alone sexual) contact with. Your head was also hurting and you felt like throwing up. So this is what alcohol did to you.

Sunwoo and Eric seemed to be still sleeping so you just quickly dressed yourself and ran out of the room. How do you even deal with this kind of situation? Now you had to avoid Sunwoo and Eric for the rest of your life and also had to keep a big secret from Changmin. If he ever found out you’d be dead but what would happen to the two guys who had fucked you seemed to be an even worse fate. You felt kind of dirty having been used by two men but at the same time it had felt so good. You even came and that amount of pleasure was something you had never felt before. Sadly, this kind of scenario could only ever happen again in your dreams.

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth.

Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

¨No way.¨

¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand.

¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

Damon barely acknowledges you.

He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally.

Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

Everyone except Damon Albarn.

The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

Until he spoke.

¨Is this your first time playing?¨

You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures.

¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

But nonetheless, you don't back down.

¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

¨I didn´t-¨

¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

It's quiet for a moment.

¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

The obsidian glass rolls down.

¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

Oh.

¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky.

He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨

He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

What a save.

*******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

¨You´re late.¨

¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance.

The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship.

Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you.

Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

Take right now, for instance.

As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

Weather-2

You-0

You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier.

¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

There it was again, pretty woman.

You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

You feel your smile drop a smidge.

¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

¨Damon!¨

You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

¨Get out.¨

¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him.

¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

************

It's nighttime.

The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall.

The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

¨Looking for something?¨

You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

¨D-Damon?¨

¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

You can´t help the scoff that escapes you.

¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

¨You smell so good.¨

¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

¨We can´t.¨

¨Sure we can.¨

You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

¨You´re not worth this.¨

¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

You want to run your hands through his hair.

¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops.

You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

Halfway?

Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary.

You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

#blur #damon x reader #damon albarn #damon albarn smut #britpop #90s damon #90s #smut #fluff #britpop smut #damon fluff #Damon Albarn #damon albarn x reader #Damon albarn smut #Damon albarn fanfic #Damon albarn fanfiction #blur fanfic #blur fanfiction

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amlovelies · 3 years

Text

what desire will make foolish people do

@wayhavenmonthly Fall for Unit Bravo

Day 5: game

pairing: Mason/f!oc Serena Willis (not a detective)

warnings: not technically smut, but super suggestive also smoking and foul language

words: 2779

read on ao3

A/N: this is part of my Au and takes place before the scene I posted for day 2: Liability. I’ve posted parts of this before as “excerpts from a fic I’ll never write” guess I’m a liar. This is all pulled from different parts of the story because I liked the way I could use them to fit the theme, so there are some slightly awkward bits where I edited it to make more sense.

Round 1

The cool spring air outside the warehouse helps to clear my head. The last few weeks have been hard, and as much as I think I am adjusting to my new life and role here, there are still days when it’s harder. Days when I miss home and feel so out of my depth it’s almost a joke. I lean back against the door and close my eyes taking deep breaths.

“Are you planning on blocking the door all night?”

My eyes snap open at the growled question. Great, Mason. Of all the members of Unit Bravo I’ve been unable to really connect or understand him. He’s made it clear he thinks I’m useless and I’m surprised he bothered to waste a whole sentence on me rather than just grunting. I watch him pull out his damn near ubiquitous pack of cigarettes.

“Can I have one?” I ask almost surprising myself. I haven’t smoked in years, but maybe it’ll take the edge off.

“Sorry,” Mason says as he pulls a cigarette from the half full pack in his hands, “I’m all out”

“So you’re the only one who gets to use self-destructive behaviors to make them feel better?” I ask in what I hope isn’t a petulant tone.

“Isn’t self-destructive if I’m immortal. Besides, I’ve got something I can give you that’ll make you feel much better than a smoke would.”

I’m glad it’s getting too dark so I don’t have to see the smirk on his face. It’s too bad it doesn’t affect his vision because I’m sure he can see the blush that paints my cheeks even as I’m rolling my eyes at his much too obvious come on. I’d heard rumors about Mason’s “charms,” but this is the first time he’s ever tried to use them on me. No matter what I think of his personality, he is a dangerously handsome man and I hate how flustered the comment makes me feel even if his flirting has more in common with a battering ram.

“Or I could just go to the store and pick up my own pack. Sounds a lot more satisfying.” I say as I push off the door and make to walk past Mason. I don’t actually want a smoke that bad, but I also don’t want to back down in front of him.

“Fine, don’t say I never did anything for ya.” Mason scoffs and I yelp as I’m hit in the chest with the pack. I eagerly pull one out and pass the pack back to him. I’m a little skeptical about his sudden altruism, maybe he really is trying to get me into bed.

“Where’s your lighter?” I ask.

“Never asked for a lighter, Sweetheart, and it seems I’ve lost mine.” He says, voice smug and mocking. So much for my victory. “Maybe you should pat me down, see if you can find it.” He adds opening his arms wide to give me access.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Your loss.” He replies as he leans against the wall.

I sit for a moment tapping the cigarette against my leg trying to figure out how to regain the upper hand. Or maybe not even the upper hand so much as just to stay in the game. Because this is some sort of game to him, and the last thing I was going to do was let Mason win this round of whatever the hell this is.

A hazy memory resurfaces of younger wilder nights, and I start speaking before I lose my nerve.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine.” That gets his attention and a scowl replaces the smirk he’d had only a moment before. “I know how to take care of myself. It’s not the first time I’ve had to get creative to get what I want.” I say in what I hope is a low and teasing tone, but I worry sounds like I have a head cold. I close the space between us.

I raise my cigarette to my lips and wait until he begins to pull another drag from his. “All I need is for you to stay still.”

I move forward on my tiptoes until the unlit end is pressed firmly against the glowing ember of Mason’s cigarette. We are so close and alarm bells start ringing in my head. His presence envelopes me. My senses are overwhelmed by him. The scent of smoke and sandalwood is heady and enticing, especially combined with the heat I can feel pouring off his body. God he’s good looking. I have to remind myself to breath, to inhale or otherwise this won’t work and I’ll just be trapped under the intense gaze of his grey eyes.

To my relief, it ignites and I’m able to move away from him. I put some space between us, and take a thankful drag from the cig hoping it will ease my now rattled nerves. It doesn’t, and to be honest I’m not sure why I used to enjoy this so much. I steal a glance over to where Mason stands with a wry smile, his eyes studying me. I’m not sure what he’s looking for.

“Well thanks for the smoke.” I say with an attempt at a flippant tone. I don’t wait for a response; I turn on my heel and walk off toward the fence. I can hear the door open and I breath a sigh of relief to find myself alone once more.

Round two

I guess I earned some sort of respect in Mason’s eyes after the cigarette incident. Oh, sure it was mostly him making innuendos and propositioning me, but it was a hell of a lot more than the monosyllabic grunts that I was used to.

I tried not to read to much into the flirting. That he wanted to sleep with me I didn’t doubt. I also had heard enough rumors, and been subtly warned by Nate, that I knew it wasn’t really personal. Mason wanted to sleep with everyone. Besides I found myself enjoying our little verbal sparring matches. Considering the fact that he kept doing it he didn’t seem to mind or maybe he just viewed me as a challenge.

Mason manages to corner me in one of the warehouse’s many labyrinthine hallways. I had been avoiding him all day. The night before I had woken up from vivid dreams that definitely didn’t involve the incredible annoying vampire in front of me. As much as I try to play unaffected by his seduction attempts, I know it’s a lie, and my subconscious did not come to play last night.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Sweetheart, but our bedrooms share a wall.” Mason leans forward closing the already small gap between us a wolfish smile on his face, “and my hearing is very good.”

He pauses and I try not to be entranced by the sight of his tongue running over his top lip. I’m pretty sure I know where he is going with this and I wonder it is possible to die of embarrassment.

“Not that there was much to hear last night. I’d be glad to show you how best to use your fingers,” he raises one hand to push his hair back drawing my attention to his well-shaped and surely dexterous hands.

It takes all my self-control to hold his gaze and I’m secretly grateful for the solid wall pressed against my back. You could probably boil a pot of water with the heat pouring off my face. The thought that he had heard my clumsy fumbling last night is perhaps the most mortifying thing I could imagine. He probably couldn’t wait to use this against me. At least he doesn’t know I was thinking about him. After all everyone masturbates. The only part of this that is really getting to me it knowing that there is some part of me that wants to see exactly what those hands can do. Not the rational part obviously, but still I’d be foolish to continue to pretend it’s not there.

At least he had waited for a moment when we were alone. I could only imagine the field day Farah would have with this, or maybe he was afraid of Nate’s disappointment. He looks so pleased with himself and I would give almost anything to wipe that smirk off his stupid handsome face. I have to think of something quick.

“Listening at walls? Are you really getting that little action?” His smile drops and I know I’ve picked the right counterattack.

“You know I don’t really think I should be the one you’re concerned with,” I smile and place a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Maybe Dinah can set you up on a bind date. I’m sure she knows some nice girl who is just frothing at the mouth to reform a bad boy and teach him the meaning of love” I gaze up with what I hope is an innocent expression.

The angry growl that he response with is music to my ears. I try and keep the glee from my face, but as he stomps away, I can’t help but congratulate myself on another victory in what-ever-the-hell game it was that I somehow found myself playing with him.

Round 3:

“You suck at this.” Mason says as he once again knocks me on my ass. He isn’t even breaking a sweat while my gasping attempts to catch my breath seem to be echoing in the empty training room.

I push away the hairs that are sticking to my sweat drenched face and give him a withering glare. He just laughs. How kind of him to make sure I want to hit him, not that I’ve managed to land one yet.

“Always such a gentleman, Sunshine,” I say as I haul myself back to my feet. “Considering how charming you are it must be a miracle that I haven’t just fallen into bed with you yet.”

He quirks a brow and gives me a look that I know well enough by now to know is trouble, “yet?”

I inwardly curse my poor word choice or Freudian slip or whatever. Not that I’d found myself thinking about him late at night more and more, or appreciating the long lean lines of his body, or wondering if he actually had to skills to back up all his bravado.

“Fuck off, Mason” I say as I roll my eyes and sink into a crouch ready to continue our sparring. It’s a petulant response, not at all keeping with the game we’ve been playing. A game which mostly consists of me trying to not let him unnerve me and find new and exciting ways to drag the very dangerous vampire who is has spent the last few hours kicking my ass.

He circles me, his movements lazy and languid. When he moves it’s sudden and with a speed I can’t follow. Before I know what’s happening, he’s behind me, his breath ghosting over my neck, “I’d much rather fuck you.” He says with a laugh.

Summoning ever bit of agility I possess, I turn and swing, but there’s nothing but empty air and his laughter. I overextend myself and have to stumble forward a few steps to avoid falling over. Once I’ve regained my balance, I flip him the bird.

He just grins and lands a stinging hit to my right side. “Do you know what the problem is Sweetheart?”

“Oh? Enlighten me.”

He moves in a blur, and I find myself pressed up against him chest to chest. My arms are held secure behind my back. His face is only inches above mine, his well-shaped mouth curled in a taunting smirk. This close I can clearly see the freckles that dust his checks. He’s breathtaking, and I hope he attributed the rapid increase of my pulse to a fight or flight instinct of being trapped rather than his proximity.

“Your body gives you away.” His voice is almost a whisper. A fierce blush erupts over my cheeks. Damn his stupid vampire super senses. He’s so smug and enjoying this. I rack my brain for a way to turn this around, but it’s hard to think clearly when I can feel the lean lines of his body pressed against me, and I can’t help but wonder how far those freckles extend over his body. I have to act quick, maybe I can distract him.

I tilt my head up to meet his gaze and moisten my lips. His eyes dart towards the action and I press forward against him. I’m playing with fire. This is a stupid idea, but that has never stopped me before.

“What exactly is my body telling you now?” I ask my voice breathy, low, and inviting. Before he can answer I close the space between us and press my lips against his. I try not to think about the feel of his lips against mine.

His hands on my arms loosen in surprise. I know that it’s now or never, but I hesitate. No small part of me what’s to stay in this moment surrounded and overwhelmed by him. But that would mean he wins. So, I pull my arm back and strike a weak jab to his right side. He moves back from me with a grunt

. “Not afraid to fight dirty. Maybe there’s hope for you yet. “He says with a nod before turning and leaving me standing along in the center of the training room.

I know I should be savoring my victory, but all I can taste is Mason on my lips.

Match

It’s a little after midnight and I’m standing in front of Mason’s door. I’ve spent the last few hours tossing and turning in a vain attempt to sleep. I keep replaying what happened in the training room: the feel of his body against mine, the brief taste of his lips, the feel of his breath ghosting over my neck. All these months of trading innuendos and hot tense moments seem to have come to a head and I feel consumed by wanting. It was a line I shouldn’t have crossed, even if it did let me land a punch, but now that I have, I feel like I’m falling towards the inevitable conclusion. And would it really be the worst thing? It’s been so long since I’ve been intimate with someone. Maybe it’s better to do it this way knowing that it’s just fun?

So now I’m standing in front of his door daring myself to knock. I mean he’ll probably be insufferable after this, but at least I’ll get laid? We both want this. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.

In the end, he saves me from having to knock. I jump a little, startled out of my deliberations, when the door swings open. His shirt is off and my eyes trace over his form. Freckles dot his skin and a patch of hair curls over his well-defined chest. Fuck he’s hot.

“Is it yet already?” He asks with a smirk his eyes tracking over my body. I’d only thrown on my bathrobe before following my libido to his door.

I take a deep breath and swallow the snarky comment I want to make. “Guess it is,” I say as I push past him into the darkened room.

He closes the door and turns to face me.

“You sure about this?” he asks taking a step closer to me.

I step closer as well only a foot or two separate us. If I wanted to, I could reach out and run my fingers over his chest tracing the line of dark hair to where it disappears under his skinny jeans. And god knows I want to.

“I am. Are you? You’ve talked a big game. Afraid you won’t perform to expectations?” I ask with a smirk.

His laugh is dark and low and confident and turns something within me molten. He closes the space between us, pulling my body flush against his. I’m intensely aware of the thin fabric of my robe as the only barrier between us.

“Not even remotely.” His voice is velvet and sends a shiver through me.

Then his lips are on mine and all I can sense is Mason: the smooth skin of his back under my hands, the wicked glint in his grey eyes, the heady scent of him-sandalwood and smoke, the taste of him on my lips, and the way he growls as nips his way down my exposed neck. He walks us backwards toward his bed and I know I am lost.

tagging: @morgans-ass-freckles @specialistagent-morgan @bionicgrapejuice and @agentnatesewell

#the wayhaven chronicles #TWC #twc mason #fallforunitbravo #liability au #mason/serena #scribblings #fanfiction #not totally in love with the last two sections #but trying to not get too in my head about this #so just post it #embrace the cringe 2020 #lovelieswrites

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piccolina-mina · 4 years

Text

The Art of Reciprocity

A/N: For @shadowandbones, the only person who could ever get me to write kysobel/kybel.💙

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She pressed a manicured nail hard on the doorbell, not bothering to let up.

She couldn’t tell if the buzzer was working or not, so she knocked on the door for good measure, until she heard a muffled thump and swearing. Then a series of locks were unlatched and the door was wrenched open.

She smiled, syrupy sweet at a disheveled looking Kyle, stepping across the threshold and pushing past his lame attempt to block the entrance.

“No, by all means, come in, Isobel,” he mumbled, shutting the door and shuffling, barefoot back to a makeshift cocoon of blankets on the couch.

“No worries, I already did,” she tossed back, taking in her surroundings, her nose crinkling at Kyle’s questionable taste in decor.

She could work a miracle there. It screamed “bachelor pad,” and while he was neater than she would’ve imagined, it could have used a bit of a feminine touch.

God knew the Sheriff didn’t count. She was pretty certain the only time Sheriff Valenti would’ve witnessed the full spectrum of the rainbow is if she actually showed the woman her pleasure treasure trove.

“I was being polite. I could’ve come in on my own.”

“You being polite? Never!” Kyle snorted as he burrowed into a pile of blankets.

He stiffened when she plopped down next to him and kicked her feet up on the coffee table as if he still hadn’t gotten used to how she encroached on space without warning.

“You mind?” He nodded pointedly at her feet on his table, and she rolled her eyes, but took them off and kicked her shoes off too. She looked smug.

For a brief moment, she wondered if he would say something else, but a forced smile was frozen on his face.

She shrugged, her eyes landing on a pathetic looking sandwich on a saucer. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of it, so she snatched a half and took a bite, blanching at how utterly tasteless it was with its sad, wilted lettuce and boring multigrain bread.

“Kyle, this is – this is sad, man,” she said around a mouthful of sandwich that she unceremoniously spit back out on the saucer.

“I was going to eat that,” he stared, disgusted at the chewed up bits that landed on top of the other half.

“You shouldn’t, though,” she took a swig of his Gatorade, ignoring his dissent and smacking his hand away.

She choked back the pungent beverage that reminded her of melted popsicles on hot summer days in the desert. “You should have better standards.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly, snatching the bottle back from her and placing the cap on it. He sighed, collapsing back into his mountain of blankets as if the mere act tuckered him out.

She took in his appearance for the first time since she got there. His normally well-styled hair was damn near plastered to his forehead. His face had a sunken pallor unlike its usual tan, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.

His t-shirt had patches of sweat, and his skin glistened with sweat even though he shivered on occasion. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he had some killer stubble action going on.

“You look like sh!t,” she mused out loud. “Yet still doable,” her tongue darted out to lick her lips because the stubble was definitely hot. “It’s unfair, really.

“I don’t get sick, Doc, so I’ll be fine.”

“Isobel,” he blinked slowly, unamused as tired eyes met hers. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but what exactly are you doing here?”

“Can a girl just drop by and chat with a friend?” She quipped. She batted her eyes playfully.

“We’re friends?” He deadpanned.

It came off both lighthearted and honest, the latter causing her to recoil a bit. Her lips turned downward as she refrained from a snappy comeback because … were they?

And in his defense, she did come over there with an ulterior motive, so was he wrong?

His expression softened, picking up on her shift in mood despite her best attempt to hide it, put that mask of hers back up, the one she had perfected for the better part of two decades.

He opened his mouth intending to walk back his comment, except before he could say more he was overcome with a coughing fit.

His whole body convulsed with each cough, and he groaned when he was through.

A small part of her was amused that even physicians suffered from a man cold.

He feebly reached for his meds, and she used her powers to pop the lid off and place a couple of pills in his hand. She telekinetically pushed the Gatorade in his other palm too.

“Thanks,” he said, out of breath. He threw back the meds and rested his head on the back of the couch for a moment.

“How about I make you something to eat?” She swiped her palms across her jeans and stood, making her way to his kitchen and rummaging through his cabinets without so much as waiting for a response.

“You’re going to cook?” Kyle sputtered, dumbfounded. “For me?”

“Why is it so hard to believe I can be nice?”

“Isobel-” Kyle started.

“Don’t answer that. Yeah, I’m going to cook for you,” she slammed a few cabinets and arranged a bunch of on ingredients on the counter.

“Southwestern Chicken Soup,” she frowned. “Well, a variation of it, you know, you have a surprisingly well-stocked fridge. Last time I was at Michael’s, all I found was boxed mac ‘n cheese and Twinkies.”

“Isobel-” Kyle began again, watching the blond studiously ignore him while getting down to work. “I just-”

“Why don’t you do us both a favor and go shower,” she pointed the edge of a knife in his direction, nose upturned at his sweaty state. “Take your time, if we’re lucky, and you do it right, everything will be done once you’re out.”

She couldn’t resist the potshots, but his brow arched, more amused than offended. So much for hitting him where it hurt in retaliation.

She angrily chopped vegetables, the action serving as a release for her pent-up frustration. She busied herself assembling the soup, then searched high and low for any alcohol beyond the unappealing drafts in the back of the refrigerator.

She followed the sound of running water toward Kyle’s bedroom, dark colors, and sports paraphernalia abounded, and not only didn’t she bother knocking on the bathroom door, but she yanked back the shower curtain too.

“Kyle – stop shrieking,” she snorted at his surprised yelp. “It’s just me. Hey, do you have any wine?”

She never clocked him for the modest type, but it still surprised her when he stood stark naked, soap and suds pooling at his feet, and stared at her more exasperated than anything else.

“Isobel, do you have any comprehension of privacy?”

“Relax,” she gave him a slow once-over, biting her lip against her own volition. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. You saw mine, and I most certainly got to see yours,” her eyes roamed downward with appreciation before returning to his face. “Consider us even. Wine?”

“No, just beer. What can I say? I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Cute,” she yanked the shower curtain closed.

“So you keep saying,” Kyle chuckled beneath the rushing water.

She turned the cold water up with her mind, and he yelped as she slammed the door.

He didn’t say much when he was done. He smelled amazing, like himself, and it brought some color back into his face. He seemed revitalized but also more relaxed, as he sat on the stool across the island from her.

She could feel his eyes on her as she slid a heaping bowl of soup in front of him while leaning against the island and finishing off a half-empty bottle of beer.

He ate in silence, enthusiastically, she noted, and she secretly applauded herself for impressing him, even if he didn’t admit it.

“This is amazing, Isobel. Thank you,” he shoveled the last spoonful in his mouth.

Go figure; Kyle wasn’t spiteful or petty. He wasn’t – he wasn’t like her.

“Thank you,” he said again. His voice was soft – his eyes earnest and genuine. He reached across and rubbed her arm, and the intimate gesture sent warmth throughout her.

He knew she was attracted to him, and she propositioned him often, but it wasn’t just that he looked like a deity carved from stone. Kyle was a good guy, warm and cool at once, and he was so easy to be around. With Kyle, she could just … be.

With Kyle, she felt like the only thing that mattered was the present, not her past and who she was then, not her future and who she could be.

For Kyle, the present was enough, and since that’s all she could figure out, day by day, minute by minute, she appreciated the comfort in that, in him.

“So, Isobel,” Kyle flashed her that warm, disarming smile that cut through to the core of her. “Are you going to tell me why you really came over here?”

In hindsight, the only reason she was so agitated with his earlier response was because of how right he was, how right everyone was.

She did only come over for selfish reasons, and she didn’t know how to not be so self-absorbed, but she was trying. She wanted to be better.

“How did you do it, Kyle?” She attempted to sound lighthearted, but her voice cracked at the end. It hadn’t gone unnoticed based on the way his eyes widened infinitesimally. “How did you figure out how to be a better person?

She half shrugged, threw in a crooked smile too, and hoped he didn’t see the vulnerability in her eyes, hear it in her voice. Smell the loneliness on her skin.

She felt unsteady, constantly, endlessly unsettled. She felt like, at 28 years old, she didn’t know shit about herself, and she was starting from scratch.

She didn’t know who the hell she was, and if she didn’t know, how could she expect anyone else to?

“In high school, you were –”

“Kind of a dick?” He offered sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. Not my finest time.”

“And apparently, I’ve always been a bit of a bitch,” she mused.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he contested, his head canted to the

“You would be one of the few who didn’t.”

“Isobel, you’re human,” he frowned. “Well, close enough. You’re not perfect; no one is.”

“You are,” she joked.

“Not even close,” he argued with a scoff.

“Everything in my life is a lie, and everyone important in my life is stuck with me, they never chose me. My own husband didn’t even lo–” a lump caught in her throat as her eyes misted over.

“I distinctly remember a certain bartender choosing you, only you, out of a bar full of women. That wasn’t a fluke, Isobel.”

“Yeah, because she didn’t know me,” she argued, picking a carrot out of his soup bowl and popping it into her mouth to give her something else to do.

“No, because she did know you because you allowed yourself to be known. No rudeness, or snottiness, no snarky comments, or a prickly exterior, just you, letting go, being … you.”

She wanted to argue, but he shook his head. “You want to know how I became a better person? I’m not. I work every day to be better than I was the day before with the understanding that there’s no end to it."

"You care to give me something I can work with, Yoda?” She snarked.

“Alright,” he sat back. “For starters, being aware of the other people around me certainly helps.”

“Like at the very least noticing that someone is sick after you’ve bogarted your way into their house?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he replied coolly. “Look, I had to face who I was and the things that I had done, work through my own shit, and the rest just fell into place.

"Life happened. It has a way of beating you down and teaching you lessons. My world expanded beyond this small town and my small thinking or that of those around me.

I forged my own path, focused on me instead of what others thought of me. By doing that, I became better for myself and everyone else. I grew up; every day I’m growing up, and so are you, if you allow yourself to. You stop fighting the process, and it all goes smoothly.”

“And as for others, Isobel, you can’t have real friends until you actually learn how to be one. It’s not always about someone choosing you. It’s about you choosing them, and then putting in the work to show why it’s worth it, why they’re worth it, why you’re worth it. And you are. Worth it.

He ducked his head, made eye contact with her even though she attempted to look away blinking back tears she refused to let fall.

"All you have to do is get out of your own head, get out of your own way, and show up.”

He gave her that full smile that let her know he wasn’t being a dick.

“You’re so busy wondering why you don’t have friends that you can’t see that you do. You know who your friends are?

They’re the ones who show up for you, the ones who will make you a priority. You know how you become a better friend? Return the favor. It’s as simple as that.”

His voice drifted off on the last line, and he stifled another cough.

He patted the counter, gave her a tight-lipped smile, and hoisted himself off the stool. He was giving her space after saying his piece.

He shuffled to the couch and slumped down, kicking his own feet up on the coffee table and toyed with the remote.

For the first time since she waltzed in, she was unsure of her presence. She cleaned up the kitchen, put things away, and placed the leftovers into the refrigerator.

She meandered in the kitchen, not really wanting to leave but unsure if she should stay.

“Can you bring me another Gatorade when you come back in here?"

It was as if Kyle read her uneasiness, her reluctance, and she released a relieved titter as she brought him another drink, looming over him as she held it out.

He grabbed it, not releasing it for a bit, dark eyes boring into hers as if he was searching.

For what? She didn’t know, but he had a way of stripping her bare with one glance, it rattled her but also thrilled her, comforted her being looked at and seen.

But still, "You gonna stop batting those browns at me? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were the one trying to undress me with your eyes,” she joked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Isobel. Saw it all before, remember?” The slight smirk took the sting out of it. “I was just wondering if you were a Wendy or a Ruth."

"What?”

“How do you feel about drug cartels?” He ignored her confusion, queuing up his Netflix.

“Is that a trick question? Are you part of some criminal enterprise in between surgeries and alien research, Valenti?”

“Haha, I’m being nice, I’m willing to sit through the first two episodes of Ozark again to catch you up, but if we ever plan on making it through the first season today, we gotta start now.”

“I’m…” she squinted at the screen. “That’s… isn’t that like ten hours?”

He waved at his bundle of blankets, sweats, and Kleenex boxes. “I don’t have any other plans today, do you?”

“Me? You want to binge a show about drug dealers … with me?”

“My house, my choice. And I’m sorry, I’m not watching Outlander or whatever,” he continued, burrowing into the covers again.

“Yeah, no, but–”

“It’s always more fun bingeing with a friend,” he shrugged casually.

The obnoxious gong of Netflix played at the same time she plopped on the couch next to him.

But she couldn’t take her eyed off of him, his profile, relaxed, and unbothered by her, by her company. High cheekbones, strong jawline, and long eyelashes.

Warmth flooded her chest.

“It starts off hot, if you keep glaring at me, you’re going to miss stuff, and I’m not starting it over again,” he murmured.

She leaned in close, tilted his head toward her with a manicured finger beneath his chin, her face impossibly close.

“Kyle,” her voice dropped an octave, as their faces were centimeters apart, she could smell the body wash still clinging to his skin, the spices from her soup on his lips. “Thank you.”

“For what,” he whispered, barely moving his lips, meeting her hooded eyes with his own.

She pressed her lips against his, a searing hot kiss, sucking his bottom lip between her own, nibbling, then soothing it with her tongue. Her fingers playing with his hair at the base of his neck.

She pulled away, leaving his lips swollen, his mouth slightly ajar, eyes a bit unfocused. She knew he was constantly thrown off by her temerity, but he never seemed to hold it against her.

“For being my friend,” her voice cracked at the end, and he was back to looking at her like he could see her soul. She averted her eyes, settled in resting her head on his shoulder as she pulled her feet up on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” she broke their comfortable silence halfway in.“How do I remind you of Wendy and Ruthie? Wendy’s bitchy, and Ruthie is obnoxious!" Kyle shrugged, with a wicked grin.

"You’re an ass,” she hissed, punching him in the shoulder.

“Oh, but you like it,” he teased.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’d also ride it,” she sighed.

“Isobel,” he choked on his drink, and she held her chin up triumphant and unapologetic.

“Hey, do you have any… dude, hold your arms up over your head,” she whacked him on the back as he sputtered and coughed.

“Anyway, do you have any popcorn?” She stared at the screen with rapt attention, unaware of him glaring at her with watery, red-rimmed eyes.

“Screw you,” he replied with no heat.

“Hey, I keep offering. You’re the one who says no. Now, are we watching this, or are you going to keep talking about your feelings, Valenti?”

She didn’t give him time to respond. Instead, she turned the volume up and stretched out on the couch half sprawled on him, ignoring his protest.

It felt good having a friend.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

#consider it a late gift #told you I still love you anyway hahaha #Roswell new Mexico fic #kyle valenti #isobel evans

23 notes · View notes

give-seconds · 4 years

Text

I Loved You

Key: Kuya is the Tagalog (what they speak in the Philippines) word for hyung, but instead of going after the name it goes before the name.

No warnings!

---Part II

When Jeno wakes up, you’re already gone. As he stares up at the ceiling, all of last nights emotions come back to him. Mostly just the guilt. He sighs and rubs his hands over his face, he misses waking up without the crushing weight. But he can’t tell you, because that means he really is gay. Because that means he’s different. Because that means you’ll leave him.

And then the urge to cry is back again, why can’t this all just stop?

“Jeno-yah?”

The voice takes a few seconds to register in Jeno’s mind before he sighs and sits up “You can come in Ten.”

Ten cracks the door open and pokes his head in “There’s English pancakes in the microwave for us from y/n, they’re chocolate chip.”

Jeno tilts his head “English pancakes?”

Ten gasps and he pushes the door fully open “You’ve never had her pancakes? My dude you’re missing out, get up.”

Jeno rolls his eyes and pushes off the blankets. He makes his way out of the room and as he passes Ten he smiles “You know for someone who has barely talked to me, you’re awfully pushy.”

Ten grins at him as they make their way to the kitchen “Must be my broken Korean.”

Jeno snorts and sits down at the table, tracking Ten as he starts the microwave “What broken Korean? You seem to understand me pretty well.”

Ten turns around and squints his eyes “Sorry, I don’t speak Korean well.”

“Jerk.”

Jeno watches Ten as he smirks and turns his attention back to the microwave. Ten had probably just woken up, much like Jeno himself, but he looked amazing. He had never actually gotten the chance to really look at Ten, everything had felt like too much every time they had had the chance to talk. But Ten was as beautiful as he was smart, and if Jeno has learned anything about Ten it is that the man is smart.

And suddenly he feels his heart rate pick up and he averts his eyes to the table. What’s wrong with him? Here he is, an engaged man falling out of love and now he’s checking out your best friend? He feels sick.

“Lee Jeno are you ready to taste one of the best comfort foods around?” Ten says interrupting his thoughts as he slides a plate in front of him.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Jeno whispers picking up his knife and fork and cuts a piece off. Ten watches him closely, waiting for the reaction he knows is coming.

“And how is it?” Ten asks after Jeno had successfully taken a bite.

“It’s good, but why call it comfort food?”

“Her mom used to make these for her when she was little, and she made it for me when I had my own little meltdown,” Ten explains cutting into his own pancake.

Jeno nods his head, eyes never leaving his plate “Thanks for the ice cream by the way, it was definitely nice to watch a movie and snack.”

Ten glances up at him “Are you okay? I mean I know I’m just a random guy sleeping in your home but sometimes it’s easier talking to someone you don’t know. And obviously I’m not gonna make you talk to me, but it’s always an option. I should probably stop talking now.” He mumbles and stuffs another piece of pancake into his mouth.

Jeno smiles, finally looking up at Ten. Ten reminds him a lot of you “I’m just figuring some stuff out about myself, and last night was a bit much. Because I know what I have to do to feel better, but I don’t know if this kind of hurt is better than the hurt that will come as a result of me getting better. You know?”

“Is the hurt of getting better to you or someone else?”

“Both I guess, but more for the other person.”

Ten nods, brain working to offer some decent advice “I don’t know where my place is and when I’m overstepping, but if this thing is causing you so much distress you should try to fix it. Even if it causes hurt for someone else, at least you’re offering the truth. And from there, you can only move forward.”

“You’re right, I should do this. It’ll be better for everyone in the end.”

Jeno feels dead, he’s so emotionally drained that a part of him just wants to get this over with so he can feel better. He chuckles, you can always count on the human mind to be selfish huh.

Ten smiles “Then let today be a day of healing for Lee Jeno.”

You sigh as you sit down with Park Jisung, one of the kids you’re in charge of, at a cafe near his current home, “Jisung-ah what happened?”

“I can’t stay there y/n,” he mumbles looking down at his lap

“Did they hurt you? Answer honestly Jisung, I’m here to help”

He shakes his head, eyes flicking up to meet yours before dropping back to his lap “When you’re a foster kid for long enough you learn a few things, one of which is you learn pretty quickly how to tell when a family cares. They only took me in for the money y/n. And it makes you feel like an object when you live like that, it’s too much. I can’t go back, please y/n. I can’t go back to that feeling, it’s too much too-”

Your heart breaks as you hear the 16 year old boy in front of you struggle to maintain his composure. Jisung was your first case and you have been there for him since you transferred him out of his first foster home last year, and with this being his 5th home you had gotten to know him quite well. “Jisung-ah look at me.”

He takes a deep breath as he mentally prepares himself to be told that you’re going to relocate him. No matter how many times he hears it, there’s always this sinking feeling as he’s reminded he doesn’t belong anywhere.

“I applied to be a foster parent 5 months ago, and it takes about 3 mounts to become legal. Now it might be a long shot, but what if I transfer your file over to Taeil? And then he can place you in my care if that’s something you’re willing to consider.”

His eyes widen at the possibility “Are you serious?”

You nod your head, “I have no idea how long this will take, but it should be okay. I mean I am a foster parent who is getting married and has a stable income. The transfer should only take a day and as you know placing you with the family doesn’t take long at all. So the longest I think it will take is a day.”

“Y/n if you can do this I will be the best kid, I promise to be respectful of you and your fiancé and the rules of the house. I will do whatever you need me to do and I’ll try not to complain-”

“Jisung” you interrupt laughing “I know you and I know you will be a joy to have around the house. I only ask that you go back to your old foster home for the time being until I am able to get the paperwork all done okay?”

He nods his head “I can do that, I can totally do that.”

You smile and dig around in your purse for your card “Here, go buy me a hot chocolate and buy yourself something.”

He accepts the card with a determined look and nods his head. You smile at him as he walks over to the counter, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater. If you’re being honest, this isn’t the first time you’ve considered fostering the kid. He was such a sweet kid when you met him, and despite the trauma of his past he has remained sweet. He looks at you smiling triumphantly after he succeeds in making the order, so you give him a thumbs up.

“Oh right” you mumble to yourself grabbing your phone and opening your contacts. You and Taeil aren’t very close outside of work, but at work it was you two ‘outsiders’ against all the native Seoul born works. Taeil is fully Korean yes, but his family had moved to the Philippines for his dad's work when he was young and he lived there until he came back to Korea for college. You press the call button and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Kuya, I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh? I don’t know if I like that coming from you, but I’ll bite. What is it?” he asks, amusement lacing his voice.

“So I was wondering if you could take Jisung’s case from me-”

“Why? What happened? He hasn’t changed too much since the last time you saw him has he? If he’s a total jerk just say the word and I will personally come down there and-”

“I don’t even want to hear the end of that sentence” you say laughing “and no, he is not a jerk now. I was thinking I could become his foster parent, I mean that is if you take his case from me and decide Jeno and I are a fit home for him. But Kuya I have to do something to make sure this kid gets a good home, you should’ve heard him when he was telling me about his current home. He sounded so broken.”

“Y/n I know you, you would make a great mother. Especially to a kid like Jisung.”

You smile and look over to the kid in question who was grabbing the drinks. He even held a paper bag that probably held something sweet inside “Thank you Kuya, thank you so much.”

“I mean we are social workers to help kids right? Send me the flies and I’ll start on it right away, I think I can even get him to come home with you today if I work fast enough.”

“Oh my god really?” You look up at Jisung with wide eyes and he mouths a ‘what’ at you as he settles back into his seat.

Taeil chuckles “Yeah, I’m willing to work while I eat and complete the process that is needed to transfer a case. And if you do the same we can finish this fast and get him home with you.”

“Kuya Taeil you are the absolute best, I cannot believe that you are willing to do this for me. I love you, you are the best co-worker a girl could ask for. Okay, I’ll go finish my half of the paperwork and send it your way.” Jisungs eyes widen as he finally realizes what you were talking about.

“I know, I’m the best no need to remind me. Text me when you’re done and I’ll get started.”

“Okay, I can do that. I owe you a thousand Oreos.”

“Damn right you do, okay I am leaving now. Goodbye.”

You laugh at his usual abrupt ending “Goodbye.”

“Was that Taeil-hyung? What did he want, did he say he’d take my case?”

“Yes he did Jisung, he even said that we might be able to get you to come home with me today! You could meet my best friend Ten, he’s an incredible dancer like you. He could teach you so so much!” you say bouncing slightly in your chair.

He grins “Thank you for even offering to take me in, you didn’t have to do that.”

You shrug “I come from an adoption family, my two brothers are adopted. And it’s a totally cliché thing to say but you remind me of my German brother. He’s such a sweet kid, but when we first got to know him he was really lonely? I don’t know if that’s the right word, but he just needed a family to love him. And I think you’ll fit in well with me and Jeno, you’re even old enough to be my brother. So if you stay with me for long enough you’ll be part of the l/n, Na, and Liu household.”

“That sounds like a mouth full. Now before we forget here is your hot chocolate, I bought us some cake to share,” he says as he passes you the drink “However, before I am going to give you any of this cake you need to finish that transfer paper work.”

You raise an eyebrow at him “You know what this is Park? This is blackmail. You and YangYang are going to get along so well if this is how you are.”

“The faster you get this done the faster we can find out,” he says as he dramatically sips at his hot chocolate.

“I paid for that cake” you grumble as you pull out your laptop.

“Can I use your phone for TV?”

“You do this every time Park, why can’t you read a book?” Your eyes grow wide as the realization sets in “Hey wait a minute, why aren’t you in school?”

He sheepishly smiles at you “Don’t worry about it, the school thinks I’m sick. Now, your phone?”

“As long as it isn’t my problem,” you say as you open your phone. You see a text from Jeno saying a ‘thank you’ and ‘I need to tell you something about last night.’ You send a text back telling him you might come home with a surprise before handing your phone over to Jisung.

“I am going to scream if I have to stay here another minute,” Jisung complains from the chair in front of your desk.

“You’re fine you big baby, I even stopped by your school and got you your missed work.”

“And I finished that, why do you think I’m so bored?”

“You know maybe I should enforce the whole noona thing, maybe then you’ll treat me with respect you brat.”

“Whatever you say Noona.”

“It’s not too late to-”

“I pray for Jeno simply because he has to live with you y/n, ” Taeil says shaking his head as he comes into your office holding a file.

“I’m telling you, he’s like a mix of YangYang and Jaemin in the worst possible way. I get zero respect,” you whine leaning back into your chair, abandoning the documents in front of you.

“Didn’t you tell him he didn’t have to call you noona?” Taeil asks leaning against the wall.

You groan and throw your head over the back of your chair “You know what? Jisung for now and forever I am your noona, respect me.”

“Thanks but no thanks.”

“This is a conspiracy, Kuya help me.”

Taeil smiles and walks over to hand you the file “Sorry kid, no can do. But I can congratulate you on the new foster kid.”

“Oh my god wait, really,” you exclaim standing up to flip through the papers, Jisung stands up so he can watch you closely.

Taeil turns to Jisung and slings his arm around the kid “Good luck, from the stories I’ve heard she and her family are quite the handful.”

“Kuya Taeil I didn’t think you’d actually get everything done today. I was just about to take him back, have you called the family?”

He nods his head and removes his arm from around Jisung to find a specific sheet “All that is left for you to sign this.”

You quickly grab a pen off your desk and sign it, eyes scanning over the document “Well Park, looks like you’re at my mercy now.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep, I told the family that you would be by tomorrow to get your things. I’ll go with you as your new worker, so maybe I can pick you up after school?”

Jisung smiles, nodding his head intensely “Thank you so much Hyung, you don’t know how much this means to me. I feel like I can breathe again,” he bows to Taeil, who is beyond happy to see the teen smile. He might have only become his case worker today, but he had seen him from the times he came to see you. He would always notice the kid walking with his head down.

“Well it’s 5:50 and I think it is safe to say that y/n and I have worked enough for today. Y/n, I say you take your new foster kid home and introduce him to your fiancé. Goodnight my peeps.”

“Good night Hyung.”

“Good night Kuya.” you both say as you bow to the elder as as a last ‘thank you.’

There's a silence between you two once Taeil leaves as you both process the information.

“So” Jisung starts “Ready to go home Noona?”

“Yeah, totally! I’m excited to introduce you to Jeno and Ten.”

“Je, Ten, we’re home!”

“We?” Jeno asks sticking his head out from the kitchen, and upon seeing another boy staring at him he moves to stand fully in the hallway.

As soon as Jeno meets Jisungs waiting eyes, Jisung hurriedly bows.

Jeno bows back, confused look adorning his face. You smile at how cute Jisung acts when he’s worried and walk down the hall towards the guest room, Jisung trailing behind you.

“I’ll introduce you two once Ten is here, that way I only have to do this once. I’m a little lazy like that.”

Once your party of people reach the room, you knock on the door “Ten get your lazy self out here and meet my kid.”

“What do you mean kid, you’re too cheap for that.”

You sigh and the other two look at you in confusion “I’m not cheap am I Jeno?”

“Yes, you very much are.” he replies. Jisung laughs and you glare at him.

“Everyone is out to get me,” you mumble as you turn around to make your way to the living room once you hear Ten’s door open.

“Okay sit,” you demand as you pull Jisung onto the couch next to you.

“Sit where? You and your friend stole the seats.” Ten complains.

Jisung stands to offer his seat but you pull him back down “Are you trying to kick this poor 16 year old off of a couch when you, a 25 year old man, are only a guest in my home?”

“Noona I really don’t mind sitting somewhere else or standing to let one of them sit.” Jisung adds quietly.

“Look what you did Ten, now he feels bad. You don’t need to feel bad Jisung, Ten just has a lot of irrational anger in his very tiny body.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know-”

“Oh shut up, you two are impossible. Just sit, you know you can’t beat her Ten,” Jeno says grabbing Ten’s wrist and pulling him down onto the ground with him.

“Much better. Now let me introduce you all,” clearing your throat you turn to Jisung “Jisung this is Ten. Ten is my friend from university, he’s also Thai so if you can’t understand him it’s because his accent is too strong and you should just ignore him.”

“From what I’ve noticed Ten-ssi has very good Korean,” Jisung comments bowing his head in greeting towards Ten.

“What even was that? You have never attacked my Korean like that before.” Ten scoffs bowing his head back.

“See, impossible to understand. Moving on,” you say dismissing Ten “This is Jeno, my lovely fiancé.”

“Pleasure to meet you Jeno-ssi, I’ve heard a lot about you from y/n” Jisung says bowing his head.

Jeno eyes you but you ignore him and continue “Anyways as you both know, I’m a social worker. And I know you know this Jeno, but Ten I am also a foster parent as of a few months ago. So I want you both to meet Park Jisung, my new foster kid!”

There is a silence among you four and Jisung nervously pulls the sleeves of his jacket over his hands as he waits to hear something

“Well kid, looks like me and you are crashing this place. We’ll make it a time they won’t forget.” Ten says raising his hand for a high five.

Your eyes drift over to Jeno who was just looking at the wall behind you “Jeno, I know I didn’t talk to you about this but it was happening so fast. And Jisung and I have known each other since I started working as a social worker, he was my first case.”

“Jeno-ssi if you’re mad at anyone be mad at me. I called her to complain about my current home and she offered to take me in, I probably should’ve opposed. I just couldn’t go back to that house, it felt so wrong. And you might not understand what it’s like to be looked at like an object that’s only good for money but it feels so wrong. I’m so so-”

“Jisung-ah,” Jeno interrupts smiling softly at the boy “of course I don’t mind you staying here.Y/n has always talked about how much she wants to help people, and this is her way of going the extra step. I know not to get in her way.”

You wrap your arm around Jisung and squeeze him gently. Jisung smiles and bows his head once again “Thank you for taking me into your home.”

“Okay great! So room rearrangement, Ten you’re on the couch. Jisung let me steal some of Je’s clothes so you can have something to change into until we get your things tomorrow.”

“Hey wait-” Ten says starting to protest.

“He who does not possess any Korean genetics shall not speak,” you say cutting him off as you stand up.

“You know I am starting to miss being away from you.”

“Silence peasant,” and with your final statement you make your way to the guest room to strip the sheets and get some clothes for Jisung to sleep in.

Jisung snorts “Is y/n noona always this mean?”

“Just you wait kid, she’ll turn on you too. She always turns,” Ten says shaking his head and getting up to sit on the couch.

“Oh I know, the closer we’ve gotten the more teasing she has gotten. But I’ve learned how to handle her” Jisung responds quietly.

Jeno takes a seat next to Jisung, leaving enough room between them so as not to make him uncomfortable “This is your home now, no need to be so polite. Loosen up, I’d like to think I’m a pretty cool hyung. Now I’ve only just met Ten, but he is a lot like y/n so you know he’ll be fun.”

“So I can call you guys hyung?” Jisung asks shyly, looking up at him with puppy eyes. Jeno smiles, he can instantly see why you couldn’t resist taking him in.

“Of course kid, in case you haven't noticed we’re not very proper here,” Ten says slinging his arm around Jisung and pulling him into his side.

Jisung smiles as he allows Ten to pull him. He has never been in a home like this in all his life, not even the one he was born into. All his other homes had either been too strict about what he could or couldn’t do or had been uncaring to the point where he could be gone until one in the morning and no one would notice.

“Thank you so much Jeno-hyung for taking me in, you could've told Noona no. And thank you Ten-hyung for giving me the room, if the couch is too uncomfortable for you I really don’t mind sleeping there until you leave. I did come after you so it would only be fair for me to take the couch.” Jisung says to make sure he isn’t overstepping any bounds by coming to live in the house so unexpectedly.

“Jisung-ah, despite my earlier display I don’t mind sleeping on the couch if it means you have a bed. First off you now live here, so it is only fair that you actually get a room as opposed to me who is a guest. An unexpected one at that. And second you are taller than I am and I hate to imagine you cramming your entire 6 foot something body onto this couch for however long I am staying here,” Ten says.

“You hear that Jisung? You’re fine here so stop worrying that you’re in the way, and if they think you are then I will not hesitate to beat them for you. I’m watching you two,” you ‘threaten’ glaring at Jeno and Ten as you come back into the room.

“Sigh, I liked it better when you were gone.”

“Did you just say sigh out loud? Ten that’s a new low, even for you,” you shake your head before focusing on Jisung “There are clean clothes on the bed and you are welcome to take a shower or whatever you desire. I’m thinking we make Ten cook something Thai, he made something amazing when we were in college. He may not look it, but the guy is actually a decent cook.”

“Since when did I agree to this?”

You shrug ''You didn’t, you were voluntold.”

“Before this devolves into something worse, I will gladly make dinner for the night. To celebrate our new family member,” Jeno offers, something in his voice making him sound far away.

You tilt your head, Jeno hates cooking. He’s decent at it and everything he makes turns out good, but he always complains that it takes too long to prepare. The only times you can remember him cooking is when he proposed to you and when Jaemin came back from England.

“I’m down for that if it means it isn’t me who has to do it,” Ten says snapping you back to the conversation.

“Uh yeah, that’ll be fun. I haven’t had your food in forever Je, thanks for offering,” shaking your head to clear your thoughts you look over at Jeno to offer him a smile only find him staring at you. As soon as you make eye contact with him, however, he averts his eyes to the ground.

You hear him sigh as he stands up, a hollow smile gracing his face “Well then I’m going to go scour the fridge and see what we have to make a decent meal with.”

“Do you want any help Hyung?” Jisung asks politely.

“I think I’ll be okay, but thank you for the offer Jisung,” his eyes flick over to you before looking back to Jisung and adding “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Your stomach drops and you get this awful feeling as you watch him walk to the kitchen. What the hell does that mean? He even said that he wants to talk to me today, maybe he’s unhappy about how fast things are moving. And I just brought Jisung home, what if that tipped him over the edge? But that was after he sent me the text, he couldn’t have known about this. Unless Kuya told him about it beforehand. He doesn’t have Jeno’s-

“Noona” Jisung says placing a hand on your shoulder. When did he stand up? “Can I go take a shower?”

“Sorry, what?” You ask, shaking your head. It’s suddenly very hard to understand Korean.

Ten glances at you before laughing “She must be having one of those ‘any language that isn’t my native language is wrong because I’m too tired’ moments, believe me I get those all the time.”

He stands up “Come on, I’ll show you where it is and you can use the stuff I’m using.”

Ten glances back at you as he leads Jisung to the bathroom. A few seconds later and he is right back at your side.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t, I don’t know,” you respond, shaking your head.

“Well then what has you thinking so hard?”

“It’s Jeno, I think I did something wrong. He seems off, has been for awhile now and what if in bringing home a teenager I sent him over the edge?” taking a deep breath you close your eyes. Why are you acting like this? It’s Jeno, and Jeno is safe. He’d tell me if there was something wrong.

Ten sighs, so it was y/n he was talking about this morning “H̄ạwcı I’m sure that whatever is wrong with him will get worked out.”

“So there is something wrong, how do you know? Did he say something to you?” you ask desperately looking to Ten for some kind of comfort.

“I don’t know anything other than the fact that it’ll work out, trust me on this. Now, shall we see what we can find on TV?”

You nod your head and sink further into the couch, raising your hand to bite the nail bed on your pinky.

It’s a habit you picked up once you met Jeno. You and Jaemin used to always bite your nails when you guys got nervous, and when Jeno saw you biting your nail while trying to make a quick decision he whacked your hand. ‘You and your brother are going to ruin your nails if you keep doing that,’ he scolded once you explained it was a habit you and Jaemin shared. And after you both were scolded, Jeno dragged you and Jaemin to get your nails painted. Jaemin offered to pay, but Jeno insisted and said that if we didn’t want to waste his money then we should bite at our fingers before the nail started.

And for awhile it worked, but once the polish started chipping you started biting again. But as you were used to biting so far down on the nail, you started biting at the nail bed instead of the edge of your nail.

But if anyone were to ask you the moment you started to like Lee Jeno, you would tell them it was that moment. You had never met someone who cared about you enough to try and fix one of your little bad habits, and the idea that there was someone like that in the world who wasn’t family was a wonder to you.

So when Jeno asked you to go to the movies with him because a friend had cancelled on him, you were willing to abandon your class work for the time being and meet up with him. And that night, that was the most fun you had had since you entered college. Seeing as you were halfway through your sophomore year at the time, that's got to be saying something. And when Jeno, the same Lee Jeno who seemed to be invading your thoughts whenever possible, handed you a single flower for your birthday and shyly asked you to be his girlfriend, you thought it safe to say you had found your new favourite birthday gift.

When Jaemin said he was going to finish school in England, you and Jeno had been together for two years. Yet part of you still expected him to leave you once Jaemin left. But after you dropped Jaemin off at the airport, he showed up at the apartment you used to share with Jaemin with snacks. You guys made a fort out of blankets before you forced him to watch your favourite crime shows. That night, just like when you had first met Jeno, you felt so cared for. You were reminded that someone cared about you and loved you for you.

“Hey Noona,” Jisung asks, his voice pulling you out of your memories “can I join?”

You smile and scoot closer to Ten in order to make room for Jisung “Absolutely, come here you limp noodle.”

“What do you mean limp noodle? I’m stronger than you will ever be,” Jisung mumbles.

“Jisung you really shouldn’t pick up on Ten’s accent, makes you impossible to understand,” you respond shaking your head as he sits next to you.

“And there it is, wouldn’t be y/n l/n without insulting me,” Ten says sighing. He glances at you once Jisung was settled. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about you. He has no idea what Jeno is going to tell you and why it will hurt, he just knows that you’re going to be hurt and there’s nothing he can do about it.

So he does the one thing he can, he scoots closer to you. He scoots close enough to feel you on his left side, and tries to send you all the love he has for you in hopes that you’ll feel even the slightest amount of it. Because if there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that he has a whole lot of love for you.

----

And here’s the second part! This is the first chapter I’m posting without help (although I did receive help on a paragraph from @bunny-doyounq), so I hope the writing style isn’t all over the place. Hope you enjoy, I would love to know what you guys think of it!

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Taglist: @jnctzen

Part 1 | Part 3

Summery: Your fiancé starts acting different once your brother comes back to Korea after working for a year in England.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct jaemin #nct ten #nct jeno #nct taeil #nct jisung #wayv ten #wayv yangyang #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno x jaemin #nct #wayv

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universal-shenanigans · 5 years

Text

Proposition

((Next part in the modern mob au. Warning, it’s long.))

“Mister mister, don’t treat me so unkind...”

Alexa moved about the stage with grace, the men entranced by her. She then made her way off the stage and into the crowd, and continued to sing the song. The Don watched her glide across the floor, drumming her fingers on mens’ shoulders and ruffle their hair. She enjoyed the swooned faces of the men. It meant she was doing a good job. She made her way over to The Don, kneeling down and cupping his chin in her hand as she sang. But her serenade was cut short when she pulled her hand away and waved to him as she walked away. The Don watched her hips sway back and forth so rhythmically, tapping his guard so he wouldn’t have to look away. He leaned down, “Yes sir?” The Don continued to watch, letting out a quiet, yet dark chuckle as he did. “Do me a favor...”

“A’ight lads and lassies, that ends our beautiful main event for tonight, and we thank you for choosing Swing as your drinking spot, chick-pick-up hangout, and all that good stuff.” The crowd laughed, and the band began to play a slow tune. Alexa walked down the steps waving to the band and her friends as she headed for the front door.

“Miss Vandus! Wait a moment!”

She stopped and turned her head towards the voice. “Yes?” The man walked up to her and gave him his hand. “Hello Miss Vandus. My, employer, would like to give you something for a beautiful performance tonight.”

“Oh really?” He nodded and handed her a small wad of money. She raised a brow, and her smile disappeared. “...” She took the money, ran her fingers across the edges and pinched the small loop the money made. She then placed the money back into his hand and smiled. “Well, tell your boss that I appreciate the thought, but I won’t accept his money. However, the look on his face was payment enough~.”

He chuckled, “I’ll be sure to do that. G’night ma’am.” She winked and smiled. “G’night.”

He walked back over to the table and handed his boss the money. The Don looked up at him, “She didn’t take it? Why?”

“Nope. She wanted me to tell you that she wouldn’t accept it, and the expression on your face was payment enough.”

The Don chuckled, taking his money back and stuffing it into his pocket. “She’s an interesting woman isn’t she?”

The guard nodded, “That she is. She immediately knew that you were a mob boss too.” He looked up him and dropped his shot glass. “...I’m sorry what?” The guard looked down at him and chuckled nervously. “I should’ve said that before hand shouldn’t I?”

“Oh you think?! Damn. That could ruin my whole plan. She could know who I am...” He sighed and placed his hands under his chin. “Well, nothing like the present. Or future in this case. You’ll be accompanying me tomorrow night. I have a feeling things are going to get a bit difficult...”

“Mwah~! Have a good night everyone!” The audience clapped as Alexa walked off stage. She was about to head for the door until Robin stopped her. “Hold on doll. I need you and the others for a sec.”

“For what?”

“Someone wants to talk to us ‘bout some uh, business.”

“But...you’re the manager? We don’t have a say in anything.”

“True, but you are my employees, and I have at least some of you have a say in certain things. This bein’ one of’em. Apparently, he’s been watchin’ us for minute and thought it’d be good to include you three, so go get’em for me and meet me at the center table.”

She nodded and walked up the stairs and slipped behind the curtains. “Guys!” Alex and Andrew looked up from their sheet music. “Robin wants us at that middle table.”

“The one where the bosses sit? Why?”

“Said that someone wanted to talk to us about some business.”

They glanced at each other and walked over to the curtain. Peeking outside, they looked at the table. They could see Robin talking to someone. The glanced over and felt a wave of dread wash over them. His face, the way he dressed, and the eyes. His God forsaken eyes. No doubt about it. He noticed that they were staring and glanced at them, causing them to quickly retreat behind the curtain. Alexa looked at them, “Whoa, are you two okay? What’s the problem?” Their eyes were wide, and their hearts pounding. Alex grabbed her arm and pulled to the curtain. “Look who he’s with!”

She pulled back the curtain and looked at the man. “Him?” She then looked up at her, “Yeah he came here last night. He’s an interesting mobster no doubt. Especially with those eyes of his. Never seen someone with silver eyes before.”

Alex sighed, “Okay but do you know who he is?”

“Uh, no, I don’t.”

Her arms dropped, “Seriously...? Nothing? Hold on, maybe going to see him might help you. Let’s go. But, I need you to stay near us. He’s bad news...”

“Wait, how? Why?”

She didn’t answer, only motioned Andrew and they dragged her out to the main floor. They arrived at the table, Robin quickly standing up and motioning to them. “Uh, this is Alex Vandem, Andrew Willis, and-“

“Alexa Vandus.” He stood up and took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you~.” He kissed the top of her hand, which made her scoff and pull her hand away. “Right. The pleasure’s all mine Don...?” He chuckled, “Yes, I guess I should introduce myself. For now, just call me-“

“Don V...” Alex growled.

He sat back down and raised a brow. “Yes. Hello, Miss Vandem. Tell me, how is Franklyn?” She immediately pulled her twin pistols on him, her voice dripping with anger as she yelled, “Keep my father outta your fuckin’ mouth!”

V sat there unamused as men from different parts of the club sprang to their feet, and pull their own fire arms on the trio. The club grew quiet. He took swig of his drink, “You might want to re-think that decision, Vandem...” Alexa raised her arm to her friend, “Enough. Call’em off.”

“Not until Miss Vandem here puts her guns away.”

Alexa shot a glare at her friend. She hesitated, but ultimately stashed her pistols back into her pants. Don V signaled to his men, and they lowered their weapons and disappeared back into the crowds of people. After a few minutes, the club started back up. Alexa lowered her arm and placed her hands under her chin. “Now that that’s over, what do you want?”

“Well I’m so glad you asked, Miss Vandus~.” He smirked.

He snapped his fingers, and he was handed a large stack of papers with a pen resting on top. He placed them on the table and pushed them to her. “I want to buy Swing.” The trio’s faces turned sour at the statement, and Robin choked on his drink. “What?!”

“I’m offering a lot, and I do see a lot of potential in this place and the people running it.”

Robin managed to speak between his harsh coughs, “I-I’m sorry, Don, but Swing is, not for sale.” V nodded, “I had a feeling you’d say that. So, let me tell you my plan for Swing, its patrons, and staff before your decision is final.” The four of them glanced at each other, and then everyone glanced at Robin. He folded his arms and motioned him to continue.

V nodded, “Alright. My casino has a night club. The band and singer are...well, let’s just say they’ve lost their touch. I need something new, a bit of spice added to the place. That’s where you come in. I’ve been sending people here to watch the performances. After the feedback, I decided to come here myself. After last night’s performance, I could tell that you all have something real special.”

He pointed to the trio, “Especially you three. I can feel the love, heart, and soul in your music, and the way you sing. If you sign, you can spread that same feeling with more people than you can even fit in here.”

He could tell this piqued their interest from the small sparkle in their eyes. He continued, “Your band members and staff will receive the same contract, same guidelines, same everything. You all will just be transferred to my casino so that you can reach a bigger audience, and make more money.”

Robin raised a brow, “How much are we talkin’?”

V gave his guard his hand, and he placed a checkbook and a pen in it. He quickly wrote out a check and handed it to Robin. “Does this suite your fancy?” Robin’s eyes grew, and he showed the others. Alexa scoffed, “Is this the same for everyone?”

He nodded, “Absolutely. Same everything, remember? Everyone here is worth that much, plus the possibility of tips.”

“It just seems too good to be true. What the hell do you plan on doing with Swing anyway? Sure there’s gonna be a new band, but what about the customers?” Alex folded her arms.

“I’ve already knocked down the prices to everything at my place. I want people everywhere, no matter where they come from, to experience your music. As for Swing itself, I plan to leave it the way it is. It will become more of haven in case a mobster or two have a falling out with one another, or anything life-threatening happens.” He snapped his fingers, and his guard placed three more pens onto the stack of papers. “I have no ill intentions, and I only want what I demand in the contract. So, will you sign?”

Robin looked over at his companions. Alex looked uneasy at the idea, and Andrew looked just as unsure. The three of them looked down at Alexa, who was practically having a staring contest with Don V. He stared back with a grin, and she narrowed her eyes. They looked back at each with raised brows. The only thing that cause them to look back at her was when she suddenly broke silent competition. “Group huddle please...”

The four of them left the table and stood in tight circle a few feet from it. Robin pinched the bridge of his nose, “Alright guys, what’re your thoughts? It sounds like a pretty legit deal to me.”

“Of course it does. That’s how men like him work. Makes me sick...”

“That reminds me, Alex, how does he know Frankie...?”

She fell silent. Alexa placed a hand on her shoulder, “Al? What happened? Are you okay?”

“...I don’t want to talk about it...” Her voice was cold.

Andrew sighed, “Look, I know this looks bad, especially taking account of his reputation, but I think this will be beneficial to everyone here. Think about much better off people will be.”

Alex, still clearly on the fence and irritated about the ordeal, let out a long sigh. “As much as I hate to admit it, and I really hate it, I think it would be best to sign. People could create better lives with the money they’ll get...”

Robin nodded, “I have to agree hon. He’s offering a chance of a lifetime...” They looked down at Alexa. She sighed and motioned everyone to follow her back to the table. V was in the middle of talking to his guard, bringing his attention back the group when they sat back down. “Well?”

Alexa grabbed one of the pens and signed the dotted line. “This better be worth it...” The others did the same and gave him back the papers. He handed the pens and paper back to his guard, and pushed himself to his feet. “Well, I’m glad we could all come to an agreement.”

They did the same, and Robin gave him his hand. “Just make sure you keep your promise. Last thing these guys need is someone makin’ shortcuts and people gettin’ randomly fired. Ya know, dictator-boss-type stuff.” He chuckled and shook his hand. “I promise you that nothing like that will happen.” He shook Andrew and Alex’s hands, quickly letting go and shaking out his hands after how hard they squeezed. He then shook Alexa’s hand, “You have my word~...” He grinned, making Alex cough harshly and receiving a glare from Andrew. He noticed this, and rolled his eyes. “Right.”

He let go of her hand and straightened his jacket. “I’ll send some people over to help you all with contracts and moving. I advise talking to everyone tonight, because I need you all moved and set up tomorrow.” He motioned to his guard and started towards the door. “Have a good night!”

#Ask-the-rebel-the-nerd-and-friends #STORIES BY REN #modern mob au #Alexa Vandus #Alex Vandem #Andrew Willis #mythologyvincent #Robin Thorne #Music Lyrics: Mister Mister by Cissie Redgwick

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isaiah-lee · 3 years

Text

ISAIAH:

'I am nearby! Where are you?' The woman's voice across the phone put his heart to be delighting, successfully inviting smile, drawing itself on his lips. Yet, it is not a secret that his life has remained dark and strict. Every day has always been all about Hiram and his obsession. But, of course, being the firstborn of Lee means carrying the responsibilities, and he tends to do whatever his father asked him to do.

However, there is a part of him that he shall reveal.

The love life.

Her name is Anastasia Young. Her existence is indeed a clear explanation of every life lesson that he never gets from his family or even every living substance around him. But, to his dull life, her presence seemed to be a relief in the atmosphere. Any woman has never stirred his heart but her.

He walked closer, "I am here."

She seemed to inhale a relief breath. "Oh, God. Thank you."

It took Anastasia the whole day to persuade Isaiah at this point━to give her company. To be involved in a crowd was never his forte.

"I promise, I promise, it won't take long. Two shops then dinner. All done."

“Okay.” He understood with a slight nod of his head.

SABAI:

Like most girls, Sabai just finds herself fond to shop, especially in her early years of working as a flight attendant. The system of laying over surely gives every crew time to at least spend the glamorous life. May be some people were born to love sport, some others were born to love music. Meanwhile Sabai, everyone, she was probably born to shop. One of the life goal that she would achieve when she aimed to be a stewardess. As the sector of the flight today is New York, Sabai won't waste any chance. After two hours of doing the post-flight, checking each of the seat in the cabin, heading straight to the hotel, Sabai is all ready to do her 'retail marathon'. The shopping mall in NYC is just like any other state or city. They have Gucci, Ralph Lauren, Armani, Chanel, DKNY, and many other world brands.

Chanel has always been Sabai's favorite ever since she had her eyes on such taste. Sabai strolls, but her eyes direct to the store she badly wants to go in. It turns out that Chanel has just put her SALE on the website.

Few people come in, Sabai is much more attracted!

The flight attendant who is now wearing no uniform but a denim skirt and sky blue silky blouse enters the building. It is decorated elegantly in black and white. All the products are all shown with the price tag can be known only if you are asking the keeper. Jet lag and lack of sleep often make Sabai becomes more delirious. But especially today, a black dress with signature suit from Chanel has completely stole the lady's attention.

ㅤㅤ"Oh." ㅤㅤ"Sooo pretty!!!"

Sabai claimed, falling in love at her own first sight.

ISAIAH:

Isaiah might seem old-fashioned, and everything within his life was all about serving the name of Lee to reach its peak. However, even since he was little, he was destined to be the key person of The Lee Entertainment. So, whether he wanted it or not, fashion sense is one of the soft skills he had to master within the industry. And Anastasia contributes to that point very well.

"See? I told you, I have a very good reason why your father let me out with you. He doesn't seems that tough like how you told me." A thin chuckles let out of his lips. Because, of course, in a blink of an eye, a powerful person like Hiram Lee must be seen as a good person. "You don't even take a look to magazines I sent to you. So, while I am doing my part, you do your part." A light pat is given to his chest. Her part means she does the shopping while he does the research.

They entered a famous store, Chanel. Once they went in, it doesn't take too long for them to get separated. He took a slow step while his eyes wandering to all the products the company served.

SABAI:

On the other side, Sabai walks closer to the mannequin and caresses the fabric on the dress. Her eyes itself scan closer into the details.

ㅤㅤ'Damn, beautiful.'

She claimed, while her mind is capturing herself wearing it. While she is into admiring the black dress in front of her eyes, a keeper comes to wake her up from the dreamy mind.

'A 70% discount, Ma'am.' 'Are you sure to skip it?' 'I don't think it's a good idea.'

A 70% discount? Sabai is screaming inside her head! They are almost giving them away, aren't they? Her eyes are sparkling, Sabai is more and more wanting it to be in her wardrobe.

'Perhaps, do you want to give it a try?'

Chanel's keepers are mostly this well-trained to persuade their buyers. Sabai is the living proof of how easy she is persuaded to nod her head for the offer.

Or is it just her, though?

ㅤㅤ"Yes, please?"

The keeper smiled in his victory. Right? He wins.

'Alright.' 'Please wait for a while.' 'I will take a new one for you to try.'

Sabai nodded and the keeper walked to do his part. In no time, he is back with the same black dress just like on the display. The eyes are sparkling the same like before, the spark of having the dress on the body is nearly there. Sabai can't wait!

'Here is for you, Ma'am,' he handed it. 'Shall we go straight to the fitting room or do you want to check for the other?'

No. She claims that she can't wait.

ㅤㅤ"I will give this one a shoot."

'Okay.' 'Please?', the keeper then escorted Sabai to a fitting room inside the store. She stepped in bringing the dress and now it is the time for her to see if she would buy it or not. What will be her choice?

ISAIAH:

Even though Anastasia and Isaiah were separated, he followed Anastasia's steps to enter the women's section. However, his woman must be somewhere at the store.

"Is there anything I can help, Sir?" A woman's voice reached to his auditory receptors.

"This one." His finger touched one of the bag collections. Before the keeper opened her mouth to explain further. Isaiah cut her off. "The classic black quilted calfskin... 'Packaged Meat' Handbag from Fall/Winter 2014 Collection."

"You're right, Sir. You seems familiar with these items. Your girlfriend must be lucky to have you." The man refused to answer. Instead, a thin smile stretched over his features. He knew every collection to this store's products. Hiram pushed him so hard to dig deeper about how every world's major fashion houses work. One part that he hates the most during his study. Without the help of Anastasia, he might never be able to master it all. However, Isaiah being skeptical of the compliment given because he knew that service quality is one of the most important value propositions for the store, so it has to be stand out among the competitors.

Just like how a woman who sits just a few steps in front of him. She got the service and a glass of wine plus unnecessary chit-chat. Then take a look at this keeper. She will compliment others with the same tone like she did to him. Knowing that fact, no matter how the girl tried, it doesn't feel special to him.

"Please have a seat while I take care of this for you." "Nevermind, I want to look around for a while." "Alright, Sir. I will be near if you need something else."

Isaiah took another stroll to look around the store. His eyes wandering to every product they served. The company's brand resonance reflected a strong brand loyalty. The classy and timeless design is all over the store.

Another lesson to learn.

SABAI:

With the black dress she got on her hand, Sabai entered a fitting room. A cubical with a curtain that the fabric might be more expensive than your gadget.

The smile couldn't leave her visage, she couldn't wait to try it on.

Once she stepped in, she claimed once again that she HAS TO own it. Actually, it was funny that 'I have to have it', 'I must have it', 'I need to have it' had come to mean the same for Sabai now. As she recalled her old days in university, they all meant different based on the needs she got.

Sabai started to take everything off her body, her blouse and her skirt obviously. But she left the bracelet, necklace, were on its place. Carefully she tried on the dress by unzipping the back first. Damn, its fabric itself was as smooth as a cotton candy. People could even tell the price by just watching it.

It's true that they said Chanel sells class.

Sabai could see her reflection on the standing mirror. It was almost looking perfect.

Almost until she realized she was unable to unzip the back because the fabric was stuck on his necklace. Or whatever you just named it, it was dangerous enough if she forced to pull the dress down. Might as well leaving scratch on that expensive dress.

ㅤㅤ"OMG," Sabai was shocked.

She could do nothing but needed a help. Shop assistant, yes, she needed him. Or her.

So Sabai with the hand tried to hold the back dress, she stepped out the fitting room. But why couldn't she find anyone around?

Only a man that strolled around, she guessed. This wouldn't be weird to ask for a help, right? Just a simple help.

ㅤㅤ"Excuse me," Sabai greeted. ㅤㅤ"Would you help me, please?"

Sabai didn't want to take any risk, not that she didn't own the money but it would much better to shop for more items than the damaged one?

She hoped that the man would gladly help her.

ISAIAH:

"Excuse me,"

"Would you help me, please?"

The woman voice diverts his attention from one of its product, the store. He was certain no one around at the moment. Later he turned his head to look around to make sure no one, not even the keeper, but him. So, was it aimed at him?

"Me?"

The woman behind the curtain was wearing a beautiful dress, a strike for wearing one. Not to mention, judging by her figures, her conditioned body, slender midsection and immaculate skin will be sizzling on-screen, the public will love it.

"What can I do for you?"

Meanwhile, in another place, Anastasia happily bought a pair of dress. The woman was so immersed in her shopping session that she didn't feel like leaving Isaiah anywhere else. After getting the shopping bag, she hastily looked for Isaiah with elated footsteps.

SABAI:

Panic. She needs the man. No, she needs his help. So when he aims himself, Sabai quickly nods her head.

ㅤㅤ"Yes." ㅤㅤ"Please?" ㅤㅤ"I have something stuck on my back."

At this moment, Sabai doesn't want to look like as someone who sets a scam only to get advantage. She turns around, shows him off her upper bare back and the zipper which stuck on her necklace.

Please. Please. She desperately needs help for this one.

Sabai doesn't even pay attention on how good looking the man is. She shall have been paying her eyes to, but his help comes first.

Will he mind helping her?

ISAIAH:

"I have something stuck on my back."

The man took a peek behind her shoulder, but Isaiah can see nothing clearly which part of her dress that is stuck. Later he decided to enter the fitting room, and the curtain closed after him.

He stood up behind her, parting the woman's hair to the side so he could further notice her stuck dress. The back zipper of her dress jammed onto the necklace she wears. Fortunately, she didn't force them to remove, or else the dress would rip off.

It doesn't take too long for him to help her unstuck the dress, but he pushed too hard until the dress opened to the point he reveals her bare back.

"Uh, I am.. sorry." He tried to zip her dress back, but someone pushes open the curtain and stops him from doing his way. It happens to be Anastasia who stood there.

SABAI:

THANK GOD! The help just comes right when she desperately needs it. She quickly stands up properly back to face the mirror and the guy followed after. In a fitting room like that, that would be weird to see a man and a woman inside at a time right?

Yet again, screw it!

They won't take long, it will be finished at a moment. He just needs to help fixing the zipper and they will finish it at a moment, not even a minute?

'Uh, I am sorry...'

Wait. The guy just unzips it lower so Sabai's bare back is exposed. That surprised the woman and she can't help but jaw-dropping. And that's even not stopping just like that. Sabai sees the mirror and her eyes are widen seeing that the curtain is opened by someone, by another woman that Sabai doesn't even expect this will happen.

The view of a woman shows her bare back to a man inside a fitting room, isn't it mindblowing to some? Really, Sabai lost her words. She doesn't even know that woman but she can feel the vibe. Some possible scenarios are popping up inside her mind.

ㅤㅤ'What if...' ㅤㅤ'What if...' ㅤㅤ'What......'

ISAIAH:

"This is not like how you see, Anna."

"What am I seeing?"

Anastasia left the fitting room, later he followed her but stopped for a moment to look at the woman he helped a while ago. "Everything settled, right?" Even though she had not given a response yet, he ran to catch his significant other right away, but then a keeper restrained his step.

"The bag is ready, Sir."

"Wait, I-"

It seemed that Anastasia listens to their conversation. The situation started to look even more suspicious to her. But she doesn't want to render hustle inside, then dragged Isaiah out of the store.

"I am helping her, the zipper was tucked to her necklace."

"But, you don't have to zip it open down to her back."

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"And the bag?"

"For you, of course."

For the first time in forever, this is their very first fight. Within a relationship, Isaiah faces so many drastic sentiments that he barely feels before. From falling in love to this point, he was confused about what to do and explain. But, he knew that Anastasia was misunderstood to read the situation. The tendency to leave her was so strong because eyes are everywhere. His father would be furious to the death if this problem reached him. But then he stayed.

He fights; for the love of his life, he fights.

SABAI:

ISAIAH:

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shanksbf · 7 years

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It’s hot out, which Harry should’ve expected, but it was still a welcoming change from drizzly London, the sun warming his skin. He stepped out the plane, nearly tripping down the stairs with his long boots skimming the ground, ready to exchange for flip-flops, or, even better, no shoes at all. The rest of his band were standing near the rental cars, talking and laughing while slowly stripping from the heavy layers, layers needed in cold England, but no longer needed in sunny tropics.

“It’s hot as fuck,” his love’s airy voice came from the top of the staircase, and he turned to see his boy squinting at the sun, already changed into cargo shorts and a tank top, sunglasses tucked into his collar, his golden skin seeming to come to life, “And bright too. Can someone turn down the sun?” He complained, gracefully coming down the stairs to latch himself against Harry’s side.

“Lou, you have sunglasses on you right now,” Harry teased, rolling his eyes as he took the glasses and slowly slipped them on Louis’ face, kissing his crinkled nose, “That better?”

Louis nodded, smiling with his head tilted up, “Much,” and brings their lips together softly, a bare trace of kisses to come.

“You all done?” Mitch called to them, breaking their bubble as they look over and see the full band watching them with fond eyes and silly grins, “Some of us want to actually get to the bungalow,”

Louis looked back to Harry, leaning up to wrap his arms around the taller boys neck and pull him into a quick kiss, a mere peck, “Ready, love?”

Harry returned the embrace, arms wrapped around his waist, and pressed their foreheads together, “With you by my side? Always.”

~~~

“Did you really make a proper English fry-up when we’re over 4,000 miles from London, and in the middle of a Caribbean paradise?” Louis asked, slowly pulling himself up from where he was spread eagle over their bed, the silk sheets pooling around his waist.

Harry sat down on the bed, across from Louis so they could make faces at each other while eating, and set the tray between them, “The past few days all we’ve had for breakfast is fruit, with the occasional bagel. Thought you could use something greasy,” Harry reasoned.

“Greasier than me, you mean?” Louis replied, taking a huge bite of his eggs, eyes nearly rolling back in his head, “Fuck, forgot how good this is. You fed the rest of the band, right?” He asked, always one to care about others.

“You’re not greasy, love. Just glowing,” Harry shot back, giggling at the pale pink coloring the other man’s cheeks, dodging the piece of bacon lobbed at him, “And yes, I fed the others, can’t have my band starve,” he grinned, and Louis laughed in response, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, a trait Harry was so helplessly in love with.

The two sat in relative silence, eating their breakfast and occasionally sticking their tongues out at each other, sharing giggles while the rest of the band move around the house, the sounds of showers being turned on and off, shouts and laughter. Louis finished his food, and pushed back against the headboard watching Harry slowly eat the rest of his eggs, “What are our plans for the day?” He asked, losing patience after ten seconds of watching him eat.

Harry smiled, and pushed away his plate, standing up to stretch, “Well, I know everyone wants to go swimming, so definitely that first,” he tapped his bottom lip, before breaking into a mischievous smirk, Louis getting a flashback of the 16 year old boy he fell in love with, “Sex On the Beach?” He propositioned with a wink, making Louis laugh.

“The act or the drink?” Louis waggled his eyebrows, both of them bursting into loud laughter when there was an unmistakable retching sound from behind their bedroom door.

“Quit being nosy, Sarah!” Harry yelled, banging on the door, tears in his eyes, smile so bright Louis’ heart felt like it was being clenched, “C’mon, Lou, let’s get dressed,” Harry pulled the smaller man out of bed, Louis feeling no insecurity being naked in front of his lover, twirling him around until they were at their joint dresser, and rifling through the top drawer, “Blue or green?” He asked, holding up two different colored trunks, but with the same striped pattern.

Louis crossed his arms, and gave Harry a look, one he was famous for, a tilt to his hip and one eyebrow raised, “What do you think?” He responded, smiling brightly when he’s handed the green pair, quickly sliding them on and wiggling to fit, laughing as Harry does the same, his long Bambi legs being as difficult as usual.

“Race to the beach?” Harry propositioned, stretching out his legs, and Louis nodded, “Alright, we’ll start at the back door, when I say go, no cheating,” he wagged his finger, and Louis rolled his eyes, but agreed to his terms. As soon as their bedroom door was opened, he shot off like a rocket, laughing at the pounding footsteps of Harry chasing after him.

A few hours passed, and Louis had sand everywhere, his skin was warm and a tad pink looking, a signal for more sunscreen, and his hair was full of salt, but fluffy. He was leaned back, pressed into Harry’s arms, sitting between his legs, as they watched the water, “I’d say today was productive,” Harry said, breaking the silence. Louis tilted his head back to look up at Harry’s face.

“We didn't write anything, nor record anything, we just sat on the beach,” Louis pointed out, wondering what Harry meant by “productive”.

“Yeah, but,” he leaned down and kisses Louis’ forehead, “I spent it all with you.” The smaller man cuddled back between his lover’s legs, and closed his eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of the broad chest beneath him, hearing Harry start to hum something familiar sounding, after a few seconds of this, Louis spoke up.

“Are you really humming If I Could Fly at me?” He asked, without opening his eyes, a small smile forming on his face as Harry’s chest starts to shake with laughter.

“Something like that,” he answered, hooking his chin on Louis’ shoulder, “I’m home to you, aren’t I?” Louis giggled sleepily, his voice already starting to sound warmer and gravelly, “I’m gonna miss you,” Harry confessed quietly, tracing slow lazy circles onto the soft skin underneath his fingertips, and Louis swallowed past the lump in his throat, determined for his voice to not choke up.

“A week and a half, Haz,” he tried to speak reassuringly, “We can last that, yeah?” Harry made a low hum sound in the back of his throat, before sighing lightly, the rush of cold hair giving Louis goosebumps.

“I believe,” he started slow, “That we can last forever.” His voice no longer timid at saying something so deep and intimate, knowing for sure that Louis felt the exact same. Their grips tightened around each other, and they laid like that, watching the sun disappear below the horizon, a calmness in the air.

~~~

Harry is running off of four hours of sleep, and it’s become noticeable in his song-writing, the theme drifting more towards melancholy, and longing, and breaking free. He also was checking his phone obsessively, something he promised he wouldn’t do the entire time here, vowing to not even turn the thing on. But it felt like as soon as Louis left, his phone never left his hand, waiting for something, a text, a tweet, a selfie on Instagram, just anything so he could remember what his boy felt like.

“H, it’s been four days,” Mitch called him out, after the 20th pause in recording for grown man to race to his phone, “You can’t make it four days without him?”

Harry knew it was meant as a light ribbing, but it hit all the same, that he really can’t last four days without his baby, “I miss him,” he pouted, “I just wish he were back here with me, with us. He deserves a vacation.”

“And he’ll get one once he’s back, H.” Mitch cut in, “Your boy will be back in your arms, you’ll be in your safe area, where you can hide from everything, and spend the time together.” He looked up from where he was doodling on their notebook, smiling kindly, “Won’t that be lovely?”

Harry nodded, knowing Mitch was right, and that he should calm down and wait for Louis to return to him. Pulling the notebook towards him, Harry carefully penned, under the already written words, “We’ve got to get away,” and looked back up to see his guitarist with a sparkle in his eye, and they shared a quick nod, like an unspoken word between the two.

After eight days, Harry was pretty sure his new band hated him. He had penned out quite a few songs in the past few days, some good enough to make the album, but all the same theme. Loneliness, heartbreak, lost love, soulmates, being caged. And they were only words on paper, no actual music for accompaniment.

“Harry, please, two more days,” Clare begged him, “Just two more days, and he’ll be back, you can make it.”

He put his head in his hands, dragging his hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp, “I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this,” Harry apologized, not looking up, “God, I’m pathetic,” he cursed himself, looking up in shock when she hit his arm.

“You are not pathetic, Harold,” she chided him, before smiling, “You are in love. You want your boy here because this is your first solo album, you want him to be here for the adventure, the creation. This album’s a huge part of you, and so is he, so of course you want the two to share a time slot,” she spoke simply, explaining in such an easy way, that it felt like the gears of Harry’s brain just clicked back into place, and started to whirl.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, “Oh, my god, you’re right!” He jumped up from the kitchen table, kissed her on the cheek, and raced down the hall, slamming into the recording studio, surprising Mitch out of his seat where he was casually strumming, “I need a guitar, and a pen.” He ordered, and Mitch looked surprised for a second, before getting a steely look in his eye.

“Damn right, you do,” he grinned, and Harry felt the tug at his own lips.

It’s day ten, nearly day eleven, and Harry was laying in bed alone. The last time he talked to Louis was two days ago, where he just had to call and tell his boy all about the new song they were recording, a song about New York and talking to walls, and Louis was excitedly shouting back into the phone. The two giggled like children, and hanging up was the most difficult thing, but they knew that in two more days there would be a reunion, and that’s all the encouragement they needed to get back to their schedules.

Only now, it was nearly midnight, and Harry was still in a half empty bed. Louis didn’t give a specific time on when he was going to be back, just that it was probably going to be late. The band had tried to convince Harry to stay up and watch a movie with them, a cheesy rom-com knowing how much it would entice him, but he denied, instead choosing to stare at his ceiling and wait. The window was open, and the rushing of waves had lulled him into a near sleeping state, the air slowly cooling the later it got into the night, crickets chirping and sounding like they were on his windowsill.

“Harry! Get outta bed, we need you!” One of the members (Harry was so sleepy he couldn’t remember whose voice it was) yelled from the front room, making him groan and slowly pull himself from the bed, ready to stomp out and throw a tantrum at them for interrupting his near-nap.

He threw open the door, opening his mouth to yell back, when a body collided into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. The smell of sunshine and cologne filled his nostrils, and he felt his eyes almost instantly tear up, which he quickly tried to blink away as he wrapped his arms around the small curvy body he knows almost as well as his own, “They may need you, but I need you more,” Louis’ raspy voice felt like music to his ears, a gentle laugh escaping his mouth as watery blue eyes met his, “Are you crying? Come on, it’s not that big of a deal.” Louis teased, knowing full well his own eyes were wet. Harry ran his fingers across the slight bags under his lover’s eyes, wiping away the tears and kissing him softly on the mouth.

“I just missed you,” he explained, pulling back to rest their foreheads together. Louis grinned widely at him, his eyes crinkling, and they kissed again, ignoring the cheers from the living room.

~~~

“You’re a messy drunk, Harold. I’m not going to clean up after you if you make a mess,” Louis warned, his boy already a little buzzed, his voice lower and warmer, dimples on permanent prominent display. The band had decided after nearly two months of recording, they wanted to get massively drunk and throw a bonfire on the beach, inviting some of the local friends they made. A whole bottle of tequila later, they were all dancing in the sand, running away from the waves and screaming when the water touched their ankles.

“You’ll still take care of me, and yoooooou know it” Harry drawled, giggling when Louis shook his head with a fake exasperated sigh.

“The things I do for you,” he teased, lacing their fingers together and using his shoulder as an armrest.

“Can we go swimming?” Harry asked after a few seconds, looking down at Louis with his bright green eyes that were hard to say no to.

“Sure, baby,” Louis gave in, “Just take off your shirt so it doesn’t get wet,” he instructed, laughing when Harry nodded solemnly, but started to slowly strip while wiggling his hips, which Louis copied, till both their shirts were in a pile at their feet, the two left only in their swim trunks. They raced toward the sea, always a competition, attracting the attention of their friends, who quickly followed after, till it was just a large group of adults splashing each other, the moon reflecting off the water, leaving everything shiny and radiant. Distantly, Louis heard one of the girls shrieking as she was carted over and dropped in the freezing water, still in her dress, “You fucker!” She yelled at the guy, presumably her boyfriend from the way he was looking at her, but she spoke with no malice, and quickly was overcome with giggles, everyone joining in, as the waves crashed around them.

“Let’s all get warm by the fire!” Sarah called, to everyone’s agreement, and quickly they all fled the cold water and sped over to where their fire was roaring, sparks flickering towards the sky.

“Now my dress is all wet,” the girl frowned, and Louis turned to see Harry holding out his own shirt and pants to her, a small grin on his face.

“Switch!” He laughed, and the girl didn’t hesitate to pull off her dress and hand it over, accepting the large shirt and pulling it on, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Harry, you’re huge, I don’t think that dress is gonna fit you…” Louis told him hesitantly, watching as he pulled the collar over his head, looking vaguely tangled.

His green eyes popped out, fire dancing in his eyes, “Don’t be ridiculous, it’ll fit like a glove,” he tugged, slipping his arms through the sleeves, and pulling the fabric down till it just barely reached his mid-thigh, “See? Perfect!” Harry exclaimed, smiling at everybody’s cheers, doing a little twirl to show off.

“If you say so, love,” Louis shook his head lightly, knowing that the dress was probably going to split sometime tonight and they’d have to buy the poor girl a new one.

“Everyone! Pick up your shot glasses, because I propose a toast!” Mitch’s voice boomed, making everyone scramble to grab their glasses from where they were left on towels, while Mitch walked around pouring a bit of vodka, that he got from God knows where, into each little cup, before going back to his original spot and holding his drink forward, “To new friends!” He cheered.

“To making memories!” Sarah interjected, earning a cheer herself.

“To making this album,” Harry spoke up, voice quiet and smile kind.

Louis leaned forward, gathering the attention on himself, “And to Harry Styles,” he spoke firmly, looking at his boy, hoping to convey all the love, pride, and adoration he could with only one look.

“To Harry Styles!” Everyone chorused back, and Louis saw the fire reflecting off the tears forming in Harry’s eyes, as they all clinked their glasses together.

The two pulled each other close, an arm wrapped around their bodies, fitting as they were always meant to, always supposed to. “To home,” Harry said quietly, a toast meant only for LouisandHarry.

“To home,” Louis repeated, and they clinked their glasses together, a beautiful sound on a beautiful night.

#not all of this is accurate obviously it's just a lil thing #and by lil i mean it's about 3k so #but yeah this is all based on harry's quote about being in a dress and toasting #it might not be the best but i like it enough to post it so #alright here come the tags #drabble #larry drabble #larry #larry stylinson #harry styles #louis tomlinson #personal #mine #long post

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