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colleendoran · 3 months

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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

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softbeej · 3 months

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Rule Number One (You Gotta Have Fun)

Alastor x Reader Smut. U break his only rule and bother him while hes tryna work. Enjoy. :} Requests open btw.

Alastor had locked himself up in his radio tower for what felt like days. He was truly a workaholic, and loved to be busy. This was fine, except you found yourself actually sort of... missing him?

No sight of him creeping down the hallway or the impending feeling that he was about to catch you doing something prohibited at the hotel. It all felt too empty all of a sudden, and you wished he’d be back down soon, even if just to make you uneasy with that eerie smile.

So, you decided to break the number one rule set by him.

“Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter the radio tower without my express permission.”

Well, what are rules if not to be broken, right? And that’s where you found yourself, climbing up into the prohibited area.

Ears pressed back, he turned to face you. There was no other way to put it, Alastor was fucking pissed.

You shouldn’t of come up here. You should of listened to his stupid rule, and busied yourself with something else. Maybe you had time to turn around, and pretend you made a wrong turn.

“I trust you have something important for me? Something that would be worth you coming all the way up here without my say so, hm?”

His voice was even more staticky than usual, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You were thinking up a response when he stood up and strode over to you. He jabbed his microphone stand under your jaw, albeit gently, and forced you to look at him.

“Well, deary?”

You only shook your head, hair bouncing on your shoulders.

“Then why, pray tell, are you up here? And use your words this time, yes?”

Within those few words, you suddenly understood why he was so feared. Just from the way he spoke, he could make you feel tiny and stupid.

“I, um, was just wondering where you were, is all...”

“Oh?” He released the microphone stand and you faced the floor again, feeling like a child about to get scolded. “You did know where I was though, didn’t you? So, I’ll ask once more. What brought you up here?”

He had retired back to his chair, and was watching you intently as you squirmed at his questioning. His smile never once left his face.

“You know what, I should go-“

Slam. His shadow had closed the door.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to ignore someone, darling? I’m just asking you a simple question, what’s the need for all this attitude? Why are you here?”

Blush rising to your face, you picked at skin around your nails still not wanting to look at his shit eating grin.

“I was bored. Missed you.”

“Ah, there we go! You see how easy that was?”

You nodded, “Can I go now? Sorry for interrupting...”

“Nonsense! You missed me, did you not? You came all the way up here for me, desperate for my attention. Well, dear, my attention you have got. Come, sit, sit.” He patted his thigh.

Oh, how you wished the world would swallow you up right now. But the worst part of this was how turned on you were at his lecturing. You think your reaction was doing the same to him, given the way his ears were perked up and pupils blown.

You walked over to him, gently perching on his knee, before he pulled you down by your waist so you were properly sitting in his lap. He continued working, tapping buttons and twisting dials, as you could only sit there and pray your heart rate would soon go back to normal.

"If I did not know any better, I'd say this encounter has you quite excited, darling! The way your pulse is rising, and not to mention the fact I can smell the arousal on you!" He laughed. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I had brought out such emotions in you."

Your blood drew hot in shame, he knew.

You nodded and tried to save face, "Yes, Alastor. I'm fine, just- my pulse is high from the walk up here, that's all."

"And if you were to stand up, your answer would be the same, I presume?"

Confused, you cocked your head. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his hands around your waist and stood you up.

There it was, the evidence he was looking for. A wet patch on his thigh. Right from where you were sitting. Your wetness had leaked through your panties, leaving a spot on his dress pants.

“Well, look at this mess. And my best pants, no less! Do you have anything to say for yourself, dear?”

You shook your head, never so embarrassed in your life.

He tutted, "First, you lie about why you came up here. Then you lie about this? Darling, have you no manners? Or am I to teach you them myself, hm?"

His eyes were half lidded now, ears twitching.

"I- uh. I think you need to teach me, Alastor..." You admitted, not able to take your eyes off him.

“Finally! The right answer! You’re getting the hang of this now, eh?” He laughed, and patted his thigh - the one you’d dirtied, “Back up here. May as well see how much more you can ruin them.”

Legs shaking, you stood up and straddled his thigh. He leaned in close, “Now get yourself off. You can do that, yes? If your mewls at night are anything to go by, I’d say you’re to be a natural at this!”

The thought of Alastor hearing you play with yourself through your bedroom door sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. He grabbed your chin, angling your head to face him.

“I said you can do that, yes, dear?”

You nodded, hands reaching up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you started grinding down on his thigh like your life depended on it, maybe it did. You could feel his cock hardening. His hands trailed down your body to your hips where they stayed, helping you slowly ride his thigh.

“Theres a good girl, hm? See what happens when you behave?”

You nodded, breathing heavy, “Uh-huh.”

Alastor nodded, his hips gently bucking up for friction. Your hand went to zipper to help, but he brushed it away.

“This is your lesson. Not mine.” He winked.

So you kept riding his thigh, until your own thighs were weak, and you were close. And he knew it.

“If this were a proper lesson, I wouldn’t allow you to cum. But you’ve been so good, so good for me... You may cum.”

You nodded into the nook of his neck, letting out a pathetic whiny mewl as you came, soddening his pants. From the sound of it, he came too, letting out a staticky grunt that would of hurt your ears if you were paying attention, but you were too busy grinding your way through your climax, as he shushed you gently.

He helped you stand up, your thighs shaking and almost giving out under you. A sharp finger pressed into the stain on his pants, before he collected some of the wetness and licked it off.

“Head off to my bedroom, now, love. Get yourself cleaned up. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

The walk to his bedroom was strange to say the least. Your knees shaking and panties wet, of course Angel was going to say something.

“Christ, you look like you been fucked good, sweets.”

“I have, I think...?”

“Oh yeah? And whose the lucky son of a bitch, huh? He knows not to fuck with you, right?” He winked, ever protective of you.

As if on cue, Alastor appeared, strolling carelessly toward you both. A hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, Angel, my dear, but I’m afraid we have something to take care of. If you’ll excuse us...” He guided you away, towards his room.

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin smut #alastor

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cod-fishing · 5 months

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“Would you want to be buried with your family, Si?”

Simon looks over at Johnny, eyebrows raised at his lovers random interjection. He gives him a once over, eyes narrowing a little bit, trying to find what could have possibly brought that question on. Finding nothing, Simon turns back to his book.

Johnny watches him scan a few lines before replying. “Can’t.”

Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why not?”

“They thought I was dead,” he replies simply, almost absentmindedly as he flips a page. Johnny’s confusion only grows until,

“Washington got your spot,” he says with dawning horror.

Simon says nothing, just humming an assertion. Johnny finds himself in a position he is in far, far too often as Simon’s closest confidant- utterly horrified, while Simon shrugs, already having worked through it with a therapist years ago, and numb to the sheer tragedy.

Simon turns another page, and Johnny breathes through the instinct to start screaming. A man who betrayed him, tortured him, and killed his entire family. Buried in his families plot, where Simon deserves to be someday. Where Simon was supposed to be able to fucking rest, someday.

Eventually, when he’s more in control, Johnny opens his mouth again, and it only comes out a little bit grated.

“So if you die, what would you like?”

Simon snorts at the ‘if’, and finally looks back at Johnny, considering him.

“What do you want?” Simon asks simply.

Johnny just looks at him for a second. Blinks, licks his lips. Opens his mouth to tell the truth, but pussies out at the last second.

He cracks a smile, but Simon can see the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Ah, I dunno. Just curious.”

Ghost considers the obviously bullshit answer, but decides to allow the out, turning back to his book. They lapse into a comfortable silence, Johnny going through his gear for their mission tomorrow, Simon flipping through his novel.

“What made you ask, anyways?”

Johnny stops in his movements, and looks over to Simon. The room is technically his, as the commanding officer, but it's strewn with evidence of Johnny’s place in his life. Clothes, notebooks, weapons. His shave kit in Simon’s bathroom, cause the lighting is better, and because its pretty nice to have Simon walk up behind him with a soft touch to his back while he cuts his hair, making sure he hasn't missed anything and leaving him with a kiss pressed to his shoulder.

"I'm thinking about retiring," he blurts out.

Simon looks over, and blinks.

"And…and I want my ashes scattered in the highlands. Unless you want to be buried next to me," he says, feeling out of breath at his confession. "That would…that would be good too,” he near-whispers.

Simon puts down his book.

“But if you wanted to be with you family, I could probably rob the grave and get Washington out of there, and put you back in. I’ve done crazier stuff.”

Simon’s mouth curls just a bit. “Come here, Johnny.”

He hesitates, for just a moment, feeling raw and vulnerable. But Simon pats his thigh, and Johnny could never resist that call. Curling up on Simon’s lap, he hides his nose in his neck, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders of his best friend, his lover.

Simon embraced him back, pulling him close against his chest. They stay there for a moment, tension slowly draining from Johnny, and eventually Simon whispers.

“I’ve had it in my will that burial rights go to you for a year already. And as for retirement…”

He pulls back, and Johnny does to, looking into his warm eyes, shockingly open in this moment.

“You let me know when, and I’ll follow.”

#AND THEN THEY DO THAT AND DIE OLD AND CONTENT IN THE CONTRYSIDE AND THEIR FRIENDS AND FAMILY SCATTER THEIR ASHES IN THE HIGHLANDS TOGETHER #soap mwii #cod mwii #soapghost #ghostsoap #cod mw2 #ghoap #simon ghost riley #tf141 #john soap mactavish #codmw2 #mywriting

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msgexymunson · 5 months

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Dr E. Munson, D.D.S

Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.

A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn.

🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤

8.8K words

Masterlist

Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom.

Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar.

When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion.

The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed.

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.

Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here.

“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.”

He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door.

“You're not Dr Burke.”

Well done idiot, state the obvious.

“Seems your eyesights OK.”

He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello.

“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.”

He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently.

He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on.

“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.”

Is he flirting with me?

“I-I was at work this morning.”

You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor.

“So, what seems to be the problem?”

“I was, well…”

“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.”

Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit.

You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.

“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”

He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand.

“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.

“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.”

Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?

“OK, open wide, that's it.”

He puts the little contraption in your mouth.

“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.”

It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out.

“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.”

Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time.

“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.”

“Surgery? Oh God.”

“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?”

Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers.

“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.”

The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.”

A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.

“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?”

“Sure, do what you need to.”

“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.”

My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.

Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me…

Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more.

“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.”

As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.

“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.”

He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here.

“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.”

Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips?

As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know.

“Yeah, it's definitely working.”

“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”

You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth.

“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?”

Sheepishly you hold your hand up.

“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.”

Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.

“Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?”

Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.

“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.”

As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out…

“All done.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.

“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”

“Will you be doing that?”

It rushes out in a blather which you can't control.

“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.”

“OK. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.”

He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you.

“And what should we do with suckers next time?”

Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far.

“I should… suck?”

“Yeah you should.”

A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk.

I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.

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

It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you.

“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!”

You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves.

“It's not the surgery, its-”

You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot.

“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?”

“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.”

As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you.

“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!”

You blush, thinking about the other day.

“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”

“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?”

“Shut up!”

Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down.

“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.”

“What, this old thing?”

You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it.

Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia.

“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten, nine, eight…”

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

Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend.

“She's awake! You OK?”

You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic.

“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?”

“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”

“Huh?”

A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right?

“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.”

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed.

“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.”

“Eddie!”

You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still.

“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”

“M’great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.”

Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands.

“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.”

“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!”

Alex pipes up.

“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.”

Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth.

“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”

“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?”

Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”

Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex.

“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.”

“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.”

With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.

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

The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love.

The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters…

“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.”

“Huh?”

You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different.

Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter?

Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole.

Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.

“Eddie! Er, hi.”

“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”

Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?”

He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth.

“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.”

It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine.

You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence.

“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-”

“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”

He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.

“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.”

Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat.

“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.”

I'll say.

“I can- I can see that.”

He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.

“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?”

What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?

It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug.

“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-”

“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.”

You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag.

“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-”

Hell no.

You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.

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

Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times.

In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town.

Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway.

Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy.

It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however.

The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.

Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender.

“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.”

Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms.

“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.”

You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you.

“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.”

Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.

“You can't just ignore me, you know.”

Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward.

“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.”

Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it.

“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?”

That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl.

“That's totally unfair you can't just-”

“Ha, got ya talking.”

He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point.

“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.”

Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind.

“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.”

“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.”

“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.”

“Huh?”

Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain.

“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.”

Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention.

“You're not my patient anymore?”

“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.”

“You're not my patient anymore.”

You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head.

“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.”

The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful.

“You wanna come upstairs?”

“Hell yes.”

Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares.

Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision.

Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you.

“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.”

“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now.

“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-”

The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head.

For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.

Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs.

You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.

“So, just a chat, yeah?”

You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.”

Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs.

You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.

No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it.

“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?”

He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains.

“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.”

He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is.

“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?”

“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?”

You huff dramatically, folding your arms.

“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.”

Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest.

“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?”

His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.

“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?”

Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick.

Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live.

You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses.

Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself.

“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.”

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again.

“I don't see a lady here.”

Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear.

“I see a very good girl.”

Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak.

Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least.

He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head.

“Milady.”

You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you.

“I thought I wasn't a lady?”

“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.”

You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer.

“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.”

“Just, put it on the floor.”

Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…”

“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.”

“You have a very good point.”

Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other.

As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so.

“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.”

His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.

So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.

“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.”

Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch.

“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.”

He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers.

“Eddie.”

You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord.

“Hmm?”

He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been.

“Eddie, please, just kiss me.”

“No.”

“No?”

He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.

“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.

“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?”

Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat.

“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.”

“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?”

Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face.

“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“No?”

Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.”

Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse.

“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.”

It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”

As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation.

“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching.

“Check what?”

“How wet my words made you.”

‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!”

“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.”

His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness.

“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.”

You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles.

The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth.

His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest.

“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?”

He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch.

“Y-yes.”

“Atta girl.”

He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts.

“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.”

Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other.

When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden.

“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you.

“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.”

Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck.

Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency.

Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building.

Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder.

“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”

His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”

Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess.

Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar.

“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-”

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.”

Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip.

“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”

Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him.

“Eddie, I can't it's too much-”

“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?”

A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought.

“No,” you whisper.

“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.”

You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl.

Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust.

Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure.

As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt.

An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks.

“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.”

Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you.

“Stay right there, I'll be back.”

You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how?

When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.

“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.”

You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues.

“Eddie, where have you been all my life?”

Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water.

“I came as quickly as I could.”

It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face.

“Can I take you to the bedroom?”

You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms.

“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck.

“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.”

Fuck. You could move in tomorrow.

The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble.

Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button.

“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face.

“I was going to return the favour.”

You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing.

“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.”

He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.

As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident.

“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?”

He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms.

“What can I say, I'm a giver.”

He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick.

“Yes.”

You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you.

“Eddie, holy- fuck.”

“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.”

He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders.

“You feel incredible, so tight for me.”

Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise.

“God you really do like my words don't you?”

Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you.

“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.”

His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little.

“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”

As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you.

“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.”

He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart.

One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear.

“How many times?”

“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls.

“How many times do you want to come?”

You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.

“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?”

He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep.

“What's the most you've managed?”

He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you.

“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”

He stops, looking at you incredulously with a furrowed brow.

“Two? We can do better than that.”

He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin.

Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.

“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.”

Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming.

“Eddie, I-I can't, please-”

“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.”

The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop.

“That a no, sweetheart?”

“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!”

You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back.

“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.”

He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs.

“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”

The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own.

He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles.

You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction.

Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight.

“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!”

You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral.

For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing.

He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed.

“You OK sweetheart?”

“Hmm.”

It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest.

“Hang on a sec.”

He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back.

A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation.

As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat.

“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.”

“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”

Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't.

“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”

Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face.

“You're not leaving, are you?”

“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.”

He pouts, looking much younger than he is.

“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?”

“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly.

“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.”

Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking.

“Really?”

“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.”

Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up.

“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.”

“You mean a one night thing?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“C'mere.”

Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.

“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-”

“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.”

“I know.”

“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!”

You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up.

“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.”

Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now.

“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.”

You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you.

“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.”

“Thief.”

“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.”

Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal.

“So you gonna stay?”

“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes.

“Good.”

Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special.

Permanent Taglist (couple of these are assumed, if you want off let me know! Same if you want to be added sweethearts)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

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maxtermind · 1 month

Text

if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

★ : summary :: as the roar of engines fades, the defeat on the track are mended in the arms of their significant other (when they lose a race) ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort; angst; fluff ★ : word count :: 2.7k

Max Verstappen

Max had never felt so distant from you. He had the win in his bag, he started good and was going to give it his all but was forced to retire due to a sudden engine failure while leading the race.

He was rightfully disheartened. The post-race meeting only added to his frustration as blame was thrown around instead of taking responsibility. It only got worse when he walked out of it with a, ‘This is such a waste of time.’

As he ranted in the car, his anger palpable, you listened silently, and caressed his hand when, had gotten a call from his dad.

“Just let it ring,” you whispered from the passenger seat. Your attempt was futile though before he picked up the call and put it on bluetooth in his ear.

You waited until you reached home before discreetly ending the call, giving Max a moment to compose himself. He didn’t let you hear anything but as he sat in his seat, rubbing his face to get rid of his emotions, you knew the conversation had affected him deeply.

Opening his car door, you pulled him out using his hand before getting home before you both took a shower in silence, allowing Max the space to process. It wasn't until you were tucked under the covers, clean and warm, that he finally spoke.

"I just hate feeling like I let everyone down," Max confessed, his voice heavy with guilt.

"You didn't let anyone down, Max,” you reassured him, kissing the top of his hand. “You gave it your all out there.”

"I still feel like I'm constantly disappointing everyone," Max muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

"You're not a disappointment, Max. You're a phenomenal driver, and sometimes things just don't go our way.”

"It's hard to believe that sometimes," Max admitted, his gaze distant and you realized what exactly he was thinking about right now.

"Your dad's words don't define you, Max. You're so much more than that," you said firmly, refusing to let him internalize the negativity.

"It's just… I've always looked up to him, you know? His opinion matters," Max confessed, his tone tinged with sadness.

"But you're your own person, Max. And you're incredible in your own right," you reminded him, squeezing his hand gently.

"I know, but… it still hurts," Max admitted, his shoulders slumping with the weight of it all.

"I wish I could shield you from all of this," you murmured, feeling a pang of helplessness. Your boyfriend nodded softly, looking so so so small that it was physically hurting you to even keep looking at him, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within.

"Hey, look at me," you said, gently tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "You are loved, Max. Don't ever forget that." "Thanks, Y/N. I needed to hear that," Max replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Anytime, Max. I'm here for you, through the highs and the lows," you said earnestly, offering him a comforting embrace.

He looked conflicted for a second and you were sure whatever he was about to say was going to officially break your heart into two. Max's voice was barely above a whisper when he admitted it, his expression pained,"It's just… seeing them celebrate my failure, it stings."

"I know it's tough seeing those celebrations, Max, but remember, those people celebrating are just haters who can't accept that someone is doing better than them," you said firmly, trying to inject some perspective into the situation. "Their joy comes from a place of envy, not genuine happiness. Don't let their negativity dampen your spirit."

"I hope you're right," Max said, his voice tinged with doubt. "Thanks for always being there, babe. I don't know what I'd do without you," Max said sincerely, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"You'll never have to find out, Max. I'll always be by your side.”

Lewis Hamilton

Your heart dropped the moment you saw the tire puncture Lewis’ car in the second last lap of the race. His frustration and curses echoed through the headphones, reaching you with a painful clarity.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! This is all so shit!” Lewis’s distorted voice cried through the radio. “I was so fucking close!”

As much as it hurt you to listen to this, you decided to keep your emotions at bay so you could handle your boyfriend’s better. Silently making your way through the people in the paddock to the back.

The chaos and disappointment from everyone forcing your chest to hurt a little. The only thought in your mind was how Lewis was probably feeling much much worse than you right now.

You heard his car before you saw him, and when you did, the defeat etched on his face made you want to cry. Lewis seemed drained and defeated, devoid of the usual fire.

“Baby?” You called, catching his attention. He nodded at someone before making his way towards you. Pulling you into a less crowded area before wrapping his arms around your shoulder.

"I don’t think I can face the interviews and media circus after this," he confessed, his breath warm against your neck.

"Should I go get the getaway car ready?" You joked, delighted to hear a small huff from his mouth.

“Can’t really leave before that though,” Lewis replied. “I’m beat, just wish it wasn’t this close to winning.”

Realizing he needed encouragement, you took a deep breath and spoke softly.

"Lewis, it's incredibly tough luck to have a tire blowout so close to the finish line, especially when you were leading so strongly," you said, feeling his grip tighten around you. "But these moments, they test your resilience and determination."

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as you continued to rub his back.

"I know it's hard, Lewis, but remember, every setback is just a setup for a comeback," you whispered soothingly.

"I just had my heart set on this win," he murmured, disappointment evident in his voice.

"I know, love, but sometimes things don't go as planned," you replied, offering a comforting squeeze.

"It's like the universe has it out for me today," Lewis said with a bitter chuckle.

"Maybe it's just testing how badly you want it," you suggested optimistically. "Well, it's certainly made its point," he said, a hint of bitterness lingering.

You were about to speak again when he interrupted.

"I just wish it had been enough."

"It will be next time," you said confidently, refusing to let him dwell on the defeat.

"I hope you're right," Lewis said, a hint of determination creeping back into his voice. "Thanks for always believing in me.”

"Always, Lewis. That's what lovers are for," you said, smiling warmly at him, admiring his eyes that had some of their shine back intact.

Carlos Sainz

The relief you felt when Carlos walked out of the safety car before making his way towards you was indescribable. From the moment his car collided with another due to a racing incident until now, with his arms around your shoulders, you hadn't taken a single calm breath.

It was probably less brutal than what was shown on the screen, given that it happened so fast that none of the drivers had even processed what was happening. Still the incident had left you with a knot of dread in your stomach.

Carlos was okay, you repeated to yourself, but it didn't quell the pounding of your heart or the trembling of your hands. You were trying to stay composed but it was really hard while your boyfriend talked to someone from the team, frustrated that he had to retire so soon.

"Hey, at least you're still in one piece," you pointed out, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation but it sounded dry and that was when Carlos took a good look at you, his gaze sharpening as he realized how shaken you were. "Babe, are you alright?" Carlos asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to touch your trembling hand.

"I'm fine, just a bit shaken," you admitted, forcing a shaky smile as you tried really hard to stay in the present and not let your brain run rampant.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that," Carlos said, his eyes filled with regret as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. Knowing that he would’ve been the same if it was the other way around.

"I promise I'll be more careful out there," Carlos vowed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"I'm just glad you're okay," you whispered, burying your face in his chest as you finally allowed yourself to let go of the tension you had been holding.

"It's not your fault, Carlos. These things happen in racing-”

"I know, but I hate putting you through this," Carlos said, his voice filled with remorse. "Let's forget about the race for now, okay? We'll focus on us."

"That sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you leaned into his warmth, longing to put the ordeal behind you.

"I love you so much," Carlos said earnestly, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you. Hands holding you tight against him, grounding you so you could understand that he was real and wasn’t going anywhere.

"Let's get out of here and grab some dinner, just the two of us," Carlos proposed, eager to shift your focus away from the day's events as he led you towards the exit. Mentally making a list of things he would tell you to take your mind off of what happened today.

Charles Leclerc

You found yourself seething almost as much as Charles after yet another podium slipped away due to a messed up pit stop. It lasted more than a fucking forever at such a pivotal moment in the race.

It really made you wonder whether his team was even working with him or deliberately against him to make sure that neither of them could score more points. He had opted to stay silent, shutting out the media and team meetings, and unfortunately, that meant withdrawing from you too.

“Charles?” You asked after giving him ample time to process the race in the sitting room all alone like he requested.

He simply hummed before taking a sip of whatever his glass held before you carefully took it from his hand and put it on the table. Crawling into his lap to make sure he knew he could lean on you.

"This isn't the solution," you whispered, pointing to yourself. "Talk to me. Mid-life crises are lighter when shared."

“I don’t think I have the brain to make a correct decision ever.”

"Hey, don't say that," you said firmly, looking into his eyes with a mixture of concern and determination. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there, Charles. One pit stop mishap doesn't change that," you assured, brushing a stray hair from his face.

"But it keeps happening, Y/N," Charles replied, his voice heavy with frustration. "I know, love, and it's unfair. But you can't let it define you," you said, cupping his cheek in your hand.

"I understand how frustrating it is, Charles," you said, your voice soft but determined. "But dwelling on what went wrong won't change anything."

"What do you suggest, then?" Charles asked, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Let's analyze what happened today. Break it down step by step," you suggested, gently guiding him to a more constructive approach. "Let's start with the pit stop. What went wrong there?" you prompted, encouraging him to identify the specific issues.

"It was a miscommunication between the crew members," Charles recalled, his brow furrowing with concentration.

"Okay, so how can we prevent that from happening in the future?"

"Maybe we need to implement clearer communication protocols," Charles suggested, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes.

"That sounds like a solid plan. Let's discuss it with your team tomorrow," you said, nodding in agreement.

"But what if they don't listen to me?" Charles wondered, his confidence wavering.

"You're their driver, Charles. Your input is invaluable. They'll listen," you assured him, offering a reassuring smile.

"I feel a bit better now," Charles admitted, a hint of relief in his tone. “I was just so lost, I should've talked to you a bit sooner.” Your boyfriend whispered before leaning down and dropping a soft lingering kiss on your lips, conveying what words couldn't. "I'm lucky to have you, Y/N."

"And I'm lucky to have you, Charles. We make a great team," you replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Lando Norris

The usual smile was off of Lando’s face. He faced an unavoidable collision with another car in the chaotic start of the race, resulting in damage to his car and an early retirement. Though he tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, the tension in his jaw and the sharpness in his gaze betrayed his true emotions.

Lando was typically a laid back playful guy who was always joking around, had retreated into himself on this dismal day, with even the reporters giving him a wide berth. No one has seen him this dejected before and it was killing you.

However, as soon as the race concluded, it was clear why he was keeping up appearances. Lando pecked your cheek and told you to stay put before following the rookie who had collided with his car.

Alarm bells rang in your head and you were right behind him, stopping him using his shoulder.

“Babe, maybe it's best to cool down before confronting him.” You saw him sigh and open his mouth to retort but you were quicker. “Walk with me.”

You understood him obviously, knowing that the incident was beyond his control and shattered his hopes for a strong finish.

"I can't just let it slide, Y/N," Lando said, his voice tight with frustration as he glanced back towards the rookie's garage.

“I understand, Lando, but lashing out won't change anything, you said gently, placing a comforting hand on his arm, relieved when he finally started walking away.

"I just feel so helpless," Lando admitted, his shoulders slumping with defeat.

"You're not helpless, Lando. You're just taking a moment to process everything," you reassured him, placing a gentle kiss against his lips.

"It's just hard to stay positive when everything feels like it's falling apart," Lando confessed, his usual optimism dimmed by disappointment. "I just hate feeling like I'm at the mercy of circumstances.”

"I know, love. But remember, you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together," you assured him, intertwining your fingers with his. “You, me and the team. He’s going to face penalties anyway.”

"I just wish I could turn back time and avoid that collision," He sighed, letting you drag him to a park nearby for a walk.

"I understand, love. But dwelling on what could have been won't change the present. Let's focus on what we can do now," you suggested, leading him away from the chaos of the race track.

"But what if this affects my standings in the championship?" He wondered aloud, his brow furrowing with worry, a pout evident on his face.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, babe. Right now, let's focus on taking care of you," you said, your voice filled with determination. "Let's just take this walk and clear our heads, okay? If you still want to talk to him later, I’ll support you."

He was extremely grateful that you pulled him away at the time because not even an hour later, the rookie approached him and apologized for his mistake.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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astonmartinii · 6 months

Text

bite the hand | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem musician!reader [face claim: clairo + clairo, boygenius and taylor swift music]

having fans are great, but sometimes it goes to far and you have to bite the hands that feed you

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 913,551 others

tagged: beabadoobee

yourusername: howdy ladies, gentlemen and all that's in between, it's single release day. i had so much fun on this track with bea and getting to pour all of my love for maxy onto such a cute melody... hope you all enjoy my loves x

view all comments

user1: YES THANK YOU MOM THIS IS JUST WHAT I NEEDED TODAY

landonorris: how many letters in devoured?

yourusername: ATE 💅

landonorris: ate and left NO crumbs

maxverstappen1: why oh why did i ever introduce you two

yourusername: because you love us both?

maxverstappen1: i sure love you, jury is out on lando

landonorris: boooooooooo

user2: ugh if y/n had to date an f1 driver why couldn't she go for one of the hot ones like lando or charles?

user3: for real like bro he just drags her down

user4: you can't be serious? he's a professional athlete at the top of his sport and by what they show us a massive softy who loves y/n? why would we want anything else for her?

liked by yourusername

user5: y/n will NOT stand for any max bashing idk why you guys try it every time

maxverstappen1: so unbelievably talented and the artist of her generation

yourusername: maybe it's because i have a top notch muse ?

maxverstappen1: NO NO IT'S ALL YOU YOU ARE THE ARTIST I AM JUST LUCKY TO BE IN YOUR VICINITY

yourusername: i am the lucky one baby

danielricciardo: leave your cute shit offline i already have to hear it all of the time let me be on instagram

yourusername: nope love my boyfriend too much

maxverstappen1: nope love my girlfriend too much

user6: they're so insufferable i love them

user7: this song bangs so much more when you pretend it's not about ... him

user8: bro is acting like max verstappen ran over his puppy

user7: sorry i don't want a GREAT artist and BEAUTIFUL woman being dragged down by THAT

user9: you are insane, you do not know y/n, you enjoy her music, that doesn't give you the right to have power over things in her personal life

user10: you people are why this fanbase has a bad name and before long y/n will get fed up too

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 829,043 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: the off weekend spent right

view all comments

user13: i need a man so obsessed with me that all he does is post my face

user14: crazy that all this guy does is wax lyrical about how much he loves her and she's like never at his races ... interesting

user15: and her weirdly entitled fanbase say he doesn't deserve her when she clearly doesn't support him as much as he supports her

yourusername: i love you and our soft little weekends, i wanna do it all the time :(

maxverstappen1: gosh our day jobs are really quite unconventional i guess we should just retire to a remote island to live on a small farm?

yourusername: you said it not me i just wanna be anywhere with you

maxverstappen1: i love you <3

user16: RETIRE TO A REMOTE ISLAND? SOMEONE TELL THIS RAT THAT IF HE IS THE REASON WE DON'T GET MUSIC WE WILL RIDE AT DAWN

user17: babe have you ever thought that maybe the reason he said that he wants to retire away from everyone because you people stick your noses in all the time

danielricciardo: @yourusername a soft weekend you say? how many hours did max spend on the sim?

yourusername: a solid ten but he even let me have a go

danielricciardo: oh wow that man really is in love

maxverstappen1: i think she'd rival a couple of you with some practice, i'm working on getting her to join redline

user18: ugh this is so annoying... preaching like you like spending time with your girlfriend and then spend it all playing a video game and letting her have one go?

user19: the sim is something f1 drivers use to train? if anything max probably shouldn't have let y/n have a go she could've accidentally changed the set up or other things

user20: i'm seeing charles and lewis training this off weekend and he just lies in bed with this girl? he really needs to ditch her to stay at the top

user21: literally two comments up is them talking about him training on the sim the jealousy is insane from both fans at this point

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 893,442 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy to take home another win in mexico, i love this track and am forever thankful to this team and my loved ones.

view all comments

user25: holy shit idk what f1 can do but the paddock looked insane today there's no way that is safe for the drivers and personnel.

user26: there's so many videos of people rushing max and although some of them look like max fans who are just excited but there were a lot of very rude rival fans trying to get too close for comfort

yourusername: forever proud of you !! you're like jimmy and sassy with zoomies on crack <3

maxverstappen1: that is the highest of the high compliment thank you my love

yourusername: champagne is on me girlypops no expense spared for the love of my life

redbullracing: do we all qualify as girlypops ???

yourusername: of course !! don't think i didn't notice the supply of vegan pizza rolls you truly are the lactose intolerant allies of the grid

user27: can she stop spending all her hard earned money on this scrub that just uses her

user28: bro makes millions in a year he doesn't NEED her but that doesn't mean he can't want her? you guys are crazy

user29: some of these fans need to do some serious evaluation, drivers are not zoo animals, they are people and deserve respect and that includes respect to their personal space.

user30: for real like why was brad basically having to act as a body guard for max and y/n

user31: this was such a dangerous event for max and y/n. they're both very famous individuals and should be able to move around the paddock without being in danger.

user32: max joked about getting a body guard for this weekend but i think he should seriously consider it especially is y/n is coming to more races while she's not touring

danielricciardo: it has been brought to my attention that y/n has stated that she will spare no expense, i am making a formal enquiry into whether this will cover my bar tab?

yourusername: i will within reason but only because your bffs with maxy and will drink the fruity lil cocktails with me

danielricciardo: REAL men drink cocktails

maxverstappen1: do NOT disrespect the humble gin and tonic on my post

user33: i'm glad they're in high spirits after the shenanigans in the paddock today and the booing towards max :(

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, maxverstappen1 and 1,442,776 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: there is no full way to articulate my feelings right now. my fans have to respect my personal relationships and my boundaries. i appreciate your support but you have to understand that i am not your personal friend and you do not have the right to my personal life. i also understand that in sport, there are a lot of heightened emotions, but drivers do not owe you their safety. this is something i have felt for a long time since max and i became a public couple and the onslaught of hate came for him. you may say that it comes from a good place, or for my best interests, but the manner in which some 'fans' have expressed their 'worries' is unacceptable. i do not want to bite the hand that feeds me, but there's only so many slaps me and my loved ones can take from the hand.

bite the hand is out on all streaming platforms. please listen closely a re-evaluate your relationships with your favourite artists, thank you.

comments are not available on this post.

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,220,664 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: i love you and i will never let other people tell me when i'm not enough get in my head again. we both appreciate our support and acknowledge that we would be nowhere without it. but our relationships are ours, please respect this.

comments are not available on this post

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,344,229 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: okay sad songs are important but it's now time for me to sing my wee little heart out about how much i love you and how i know we were always made for each other.

i love you maxy, invisible string is all about my muse. out now.

view all comments

user41: IT BANGS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

user42: ffs i guess we're stuck with this man for life now ...

user43: LISTEN TO BITE THE HAND AND BANG YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE WALL AND HEAR THE PINBALLS OF YOUR BRAIN GOING CRAZU

user44: speak your truth sis

maxverstappen1: ISN'T IT JUST SO PRETTY TO THINK THAT ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING TYING YOU TO ME

maxverstappen1: so true, you make me believe in soulmates YOU ARE MY SOULMATE I LOVE YOU

yourusername: i love you to the moon and to saturn for real

yourusername: and that thread of gold is made from all of your trophies LET'S GO RAHHHHHHHH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

maxverstappen1: the gold of that grammy @thegrammys yall heard bags?

user45: the way they're each others wags and completely embrace it

user46: i love that they're still their goofy asses they don't give a shit abou t yall

user47: y/n dropped a heart wrenching track and immediately went ... but hey i'm SUPER happy and that's all you're going to hear

landonorris: so like can y/n remix the dutch anthem so we can actually bop every weekend

yourusername: i kinda wanna marry the king of the netherlands so maybe not

landonorris: you broke up ?????

yourusername: no you dumbass max is the king of the netherlands

maxverstappen1: not factually but i do have a medal from the royal family so same thing

landonorris: why do you guys have to clown on me every time

yourusername: you're like our baby brother it's our duty

maxverstappen1: sorry not sorry

user48: you could never make me hate them they're made for each other

user49: finally bite the hand shamed the crazy bitches into finally shutting the fuck up

note: i love bite the hand i actually fear it might be my fave boygenius song and i recommend it to everyone. i actually did my university dissertation on parasocial relationships with athletes so like i feel like a good couple of sports fans could do with a listen to bite the hand. hope yall enjoyed and had a good weekend !! (chelsea gave me a heart attack but what's new, even though i was too sick to go to the game:()

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 #f1 x you #f1 social media au #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen

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littlefreya · 23 days

Text

Pictures of You

Summary: While Sy is deployed, his new girlfriend sends him nudes, and now he must take care of 'business' himself while fantasizing about the things he would do to her.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x himself x OFC

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), pure smut, graphic depiction of sex (male x female), male masturbation, bodily fluids, accidental creampie, dirty language, punishment, Freya using "peach". Being caught in the act. A bit of fluff. Not beta'd.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, translating, copying it, or parts of it and claiming it as your own*

A/N: It's been a while since I posted. I am working on a series (plural), but I got inspired by a lovely anon today. I'm not sure if I'm tagging anyone since my tag list is probably outdated and I'm not sure who still wants on. So, if you enjoyed, reblog, or comment, let me know. I'd appreciate it. 🖤

Pictures of You

At last, night unfurled, and the camp became quiet.

The glorified Captain retired to his quarters, exhausted from a day of training recruits and tedious paperwork. This deployment would be long, and though he loved being The Captain - Logan Syverson was beginning to miss home.

It was all because of her. Sy shouldn't have caught feelings, long-distance relationships were never his thing, but damn, she was something else; a woman way above his league, pretty, hot as hell and way too smart to be with a military grunt like him.

Needless to say, fucking her made him feel like a god.

Stripping down to his boxer, Sy slumped into his bed with a huff and reached for the private cell phone stuffed in his drawer.

Twenty unanswered messages appeared on the screen—three of them from her.

Joy painted his face at the sight of her name. Ignoring everything else, he went directly to read her messages.

“Missing my big Sy”, the first message read.

The other - “something to make you think of me.”

The last message was simply an attachment. Curious, Sy tapped it open.

‘Fucking hell.’

The unmistakable pang of desire instantly surged through his groin.

There she was, his sweet woman, naked and spread open like a present unwrapped, especially for him. She was sitting on her bed, one breast gripped by her palm with her nipple peeking through dark-painted nails while her other hand toyed with the sweet peach between her thighs.

“Fuck,” Sy muttered. Already rock-hard. Absentmindedly, his hand massaged the hefty bulge through the fabric of his boxers, eliciting a deep groan from under his breath.

‘What are you doing to me, babygirl?”

It wasn’t just her naked body and the way her finger teased her own slit, but the look she gave him, the familiar neediness in her gaze, the way she bit her lip.

Damn, if she was here right now… He’d fucking punish her for teasing him so bad! He’d pin her to the wall with his hand around her throat and show her what happens to naughty girls who like playing such wicked games.

Now he had three fucking months to go, and all he could think of was how bad he wanted to be inside her tight little cunt.

‘Well, guess I’ll have to take care of this myself…’

Springing his cock free from his boxers, he ran his rough fingers up and down the length of his imposing shaft - slow at first, as Sy enjoyed taking his time, just as he would with her. His thumb rolled across the crown of his cock, gently grazing the tip while he imagined flipping her against the pitted wall in this room. Make her take it from behind so he could look at that perfect rounded ass of hers and watch his cock slipping in and out of her body.

Still holding the photo open, he focused on her succulent cunt before spitting onto his open palm and griping himself once again. Tighter this time, he squeezed onto his girth and began to fuck his own hand.

Pants and groans sputtered from his mouth, his chest heaving as he gradually picked up the pace. In his fantasy, he parted her ass cheeks and teased her dripping little hole until she begged him to fuck him. Then he forced himself all the way in, making her cry out.

The sounds of her moans echoed in his memory, so helpless and desperate at the same time - he was nearly too much for her; that narrow cavern of hers could barely take his leviathan cock, but still, she took every pounding, becoming wetter around his shaft as her body not only yielded to accommodate him but lured him deeper inside.

“I want inside you, babygirl…” Sy mumbled out loud, his hand now moving in ecstatic fervour. Sweat dripped down the contracting muscles of his abs. Soon, he felt himself swell even larger, and his sack strained with the desperate need for release.

He tightened his grip, now choking his shaft and thinking of how it felt when she came around him. How she contracted all around his cock and shattered like glass smashing on the floor.

“Don’t come inside….” She’d warned him. She wasn’t on the pill. But this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from filling her full of his cum, and maybe… he wouldn’t want to…

It was his fantasy, after all.

“FUCK!!!”

With the image spilling inside her, he allowed himself to be swept by the fierce waves of pleasure, his entire body buzzing with bliss as hot, thick ribbons of ecstasy spilt over his fingers. He might have shouted too loudly, but it’s not like he ever gave a fuck.

It took Sy a few good minutes to climb down to earth, and then he chuckled hoarsely as he noticed the mess he had left on his hand. Shaking his head, he reached for a towel and wiped himself clean before returning to gaze at her photo.

“What am I gonna do with you, doll?”

Well, there was an idea. He could repay the favour by sending her a photo of himself. Usually, he was against this type of stuff, but what she did was particularly risky for a woman, and if she was bold enough to treat him, he could do the same. Besides, they had three months until they could meet again. He better make sure she remembered who she belonged to.

He stroked himself lightly. Still semi-hard, he wondered whether he could work himself to another erection this soon when a knock sounded at the door.

“Mother of f…. One moment !!!”

Sy yelled. Irritated, he briefly tucked his shaft back in his boxers and jumped out of bed. The room smelled rancid, but Sy couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t even bring himself to put on a shirt as he rushed to the door.

“What?” He grunted before getting to see who was on the other side.

‘Well, fuck me sideways.’

It was a woman because why the hell not? Private Hicks, to be precise. The young thing’s eyes flared with surprise and then snapped to the floor to avoid staring at her sweaty, half-naked superior, but not before catching a glance of his hairy, tattooed chest and the semi-erected bulge in his groin.

The strong scent of sweat and sex hit her nostrils like a smack in the face. It took everything not to curl her face. There was no need to put two and two together to realise what she had just intruded.

“Sir.” Hicks saluted in badly hidden embarrassment.

Sy let out a deep sigh. Clearly, she knew what he was doing before she arrived. She probably heard him come all over himself right before knocking. Frankly, he wasn’t ashamed.

“Get on with it, Private.”

“Sir,” she repeated, her voice a slight tremble. “ I’m sorry to bother you… but the Major asked me to get you.”

Sy scratched the back of his head and groaned deeply. “Tell him I’ll be there in 10.”

Without any other comment, he shut the door, leaving Hicks to wander back to the Major’s office, all shaken and quaking.

As she walked away, she couldn’t help but bite her lips. All across her body, she felt those little electric streams of excitement, and her breath suddenly became shallow. She shouldn’t have thought of her superior like this, on what he did behind that closed door just a moment before she arrived, but Captain Syverson was too hot to handle and, needless to say, too loud.

Well, she’d have to take care of herself later…

#henry cavill #captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #sand castle

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moonydustx · 7 months

Text

The night cook.

masterlist | requests here

Summary: Insomnia has struck one of the crew and Sanji is willing to find out. Meanwhile, you try to deal with your fear as best you can.

Warnings: I don't know, mention of clowns maybe (yes, exactly what you're thinking).

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: OPLA!Sanji x F!Reader.

A/N: I have a new obsession and I need to write more and more. I watched the series in one day and now I'm racing against time to catch up with the anime (and soon move on to the manga). It has not been proofread so I apologize for possible errors.

Part 2 here

Sanji was starting to get stressed.

Despite the short time he had been part of the crew, he already knew where he belonged: the kitchen. He could spend hours there and felt comfortable. But something bothered him. Every morning, some fruit always appeared cut, food scraps in the trash, his knives disorganized. He wouldn't look for trouble right away, but he was aware of every move.

Your steps dragged to the kitchen, after another bad night's sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were visible from afar, as was his bad mood.

"Good morning madame! Glad you joined us today for coffee." Sanji caught your attention, placing your plate in front of you.

"Good morning sunshine, your mood seems to brighten the day." Zoro teased you, only earning an eye roll.

You stared at the food in front of you. They looked appetizing, but hunger seemed to be nowhere in your body. You rolled them from one side to the other, without removing any pieces, while heard the others talking in the distance.

"Everything is fine?" The cook's voice caught your attention, a quick glance was enough to realize that the others had already eaten their meals. "Sorry to say ma'am, but you look tired."

"It's okay Ji. I'm just discouraged." You stand up, handing the plate back to him. "They look delicious, but I'm out of food, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, my sweet. I heard that if you eat with a full stomach, or in your case without hunger, you can't enjoy the food and the last thing I want is for you to not like one of my dishes ." He leaned on the table, watching you.

"That's impossible. I could eat anything you make, as long as it's you making it."

It had been a while since the two of you exchanged small gestures, small flirtations. Unlike most other women, you weren't bothered by what he said. You felt seen, admired like never before, even though you knew he would say that to a thousand others. Plus, it was fun to see him shy with your answers.

"So... What can I do special for you today. Choose and I'll do it."

"Surprise me!"

You left it in the kitchen and if you looked back, you could see it lost in your image. None of the other beauties would be like that beauty, her beauty. Even though he was still lost, Sanji tried to regain his thoughts, thinking about the perfect lunch.

You got caught up in the tasks on the boat, all to keep the tiredness out of your body. Despite having heard the call for lunch you decided to postpone it, as well as dinner.

When you returned to bathe, you could see that everyone had retired to their rooms. Even with the most comfortable clothes, the coziest sheet and the cool sea breeze coming through the window, it only took a few minutes of sleep for you to wake up sweating, scared.

You were tired of it would be another wasted night. You got up and went towards the kitchen, since sleep didn't decide to appear that night, hunger had already taken its place and a salad would go well at that moment.

You gathered some radishes to cut and a few slices later, you felt the knife against your skin and was scared.

"So you're the cook for the night!" Sanji spoke suddenly.

Before you could curse him for his fright you had to hold back a scream due to the inconvenience of the pain.

"Shit, let me see." in a matter of seconds, he was already in front of you , holding your injured hand.

"It was nothing, you can rest."

"That, young lady, I will decide later." he gently placed a cloth in your hand, pressing it. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep, I decided to prepare something."

"Honey, what's been going on?" He took your hand again, removing the cloth. "Okay, I have the solution to mine and your problem."

He took you by the hand to the bench, placing you in a sitting position, returned to the kitchen, placing a small container to heat and disappeared from sight for a few seconds, returning with a small box in his hands. It brought everything in front of you, allowing you to see what it was really about. A small box with bandage and a small plate with lasagna.

"I saved it from lunch for you, I think you'll like it."

"You know you're my favorite. Shit!" you immediately regretted trying to use your injured hand to eat.

"Now, we'll fix this." The cut was small but uncomfortable and felt a little deep.

You watched him bend down to your height and tend to the small wound like something precious while you ate. The silence between you didn't last long, against your will.

"When are you going to tell me what's been going on? You know, we're friends." Sanji charged, finishing applying the last strip. "Something is wrong with you and I can't figure it out. Besides, you've been destroying my onions in your nightly escapes."

"I'm having some trouble sleeping..." you tried to leave the explanation superficial, but the look in his eyes made it very clear that he wouldn't just buy that.

"You could have told me, you could have made me some tea or something that would help."

"It's not that." You pushed the plate away and straightened up, trying to look away from Sanji. Shame already dominated your body at that time. "It's a stupid thing."

"No mon amour, it's not. I'm here, talk to me."

"There's only one thing in the world that I'm afraid of: clowns. Be they the cute ones or the psychopaths alike..."

"Buggy. Has he been a problem?" Sanji tried to understand, although it didn't make sense since the crew hadn't seen him in days.

"First we were trapped in his circus and it was horrible. Then we had his head on board and I was sure that at any moment he was going to appear. Now, I can't stop having vivid nightmares about it." you confessed, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. "I can't sleep, so I come here at night and I always cook something. I usually watch you cook and it seems like something so relaxing, so good. It hasn't helped me much with my sleep, but at least I've been eating some of the inedible things I make ."

"I bet they're as good as the ones I make and if you don't mind, I'd love to cook with you one of these nights." he winked, eliciting a smile from you. "But for tonight, we need to sleep, finish your plate and I'll be right back with something."

A few minutes and mouthfuls later, Sanji appeared with two mugs, with some hot liquid inside them.

"Herbal tea. It'll help you fall asleep."

"I have my doubts, but…" you took a sip of the sweet drink. "It doesn't hurt to try. Are you sleep deprived too?"

"Not really, I just couldn't leave a lady drinking alone."

"If this works, I promise to buy you the next drink at a bar."

"Wait. This a date?" he asked and if it were possible, you would see hearts instead of his eyes.

"We have the drink." you pointed to the two mugs. "We had dinner." You pointed to the lasagna. "Sounds like a date."

"That miserable clown at least did one good thing"

"Don't ruin the moment, Ji."

The two of you finished your drinks in silence, a few glances exchanged were enough to get comfortable together. Sanji picked up the dishes on the table and you followed him with slower steps.

"Thank you for helping me."

"Who said our date is over?" he turned around, grasping his arm for you to intertwine. "I would never let a lady go alone to her chambers."

"You are a gentleman."

"Only for you amour." He stopped in front of your door. "It's delivered and safe."

You stood on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, really." You opened the door and before you could enter, you turned around. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

"Whatever madam wants."

"You can stay here for a while, just until I sleep."

"Of course sweetheart" He walked you into the room.

You straightened the bed and lay down on one end, watching him just stare at you, waiting for some sign that he could sit down.

"Please be my guest."

He lay down and almost automatically gave way for you to snuggle against his chest. Your laughter was suppressed when you saw him smiling widely at the contact.

"A few drinks, a dinner..."

"And you ended up in my bed." your voice was already sleepy. Maybe because of the tea, but something said it was more because of the company.

"And I ended up in the perfect place." reciprocating your gesture just now, in the little conscience you had left, you felt his lips touch your forehead. "Sleep missus. I promise not to let any harm come."

#one piece #fiction #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #reader insert #opla!sanji x reader #opla #op live action #one piece sanji #op imagines #sanji x you #sanji imagine

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wongyuuu · 2 months

Text

lens of ice | yjh | one

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓

part one | part two (final)

The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.

Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.

"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"

Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice.

Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.

"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"

The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.

"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists"

"When can I have the surgery?"

You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.

"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"

Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.

"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"

That was enough to get your attention.

"Why?"

Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.

The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.

"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"

It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.

"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"

Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.

"Well, good luck to you"

"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"

You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.

"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"

"Nothing will change"

A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.

"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"

Jihoon simply shook his head at you.

"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"

With a salute Jihoon left.

"Fuck"

You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock.

"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.

Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"

Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.

"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"

Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.

"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"

Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.

"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.

A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium.

And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan?

"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed"

Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.

"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"

Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him.

"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.

With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you.

"Will you need to film my family?"

"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life"

Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.

"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"

You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so.

Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.

Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second.

In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.

And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.

“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.

“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.

“Fine”

“Just fine?”

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.

“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”

Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.

Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.

Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.

“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.

You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.

“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.

You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.

“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”

“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”

Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.

“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.

You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.

“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”

The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.

You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.

You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.

The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.

And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.

Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.

"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.

You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.

You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"

Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.

Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.

Option b was actually the only possible choice.

“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”

Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.

“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.

“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.

You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.

“What if I say something and regret it later?”

It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.

“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.

“Can we throw it all away and start again?”

Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.

“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.

“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”

With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.

Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.

“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”

“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”

He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.

“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”

“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”

He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.

“No, the ultimate goal is to win”

As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.

You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.

“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”

“Hi”

The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.

His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.

“Can we film it?” You asked.

Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.

For Jeonghan, that was never the case.

Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.

Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.

As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.

“You said you would film anything and everything.”

You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.

In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.

“Do you think it’s important?”

You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.

“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”

“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it

You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.

Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary.

You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either.

While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten.

It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that.

However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?

You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him.

It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain.

Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes.

"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?" someone asked.

You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you.

"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed.

"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?"

"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?"

"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?"

The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.

Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him.

You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head.

“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried

“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad.

That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you.

“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse.

“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”

By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot.

The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake.

As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.

The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.

Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.

Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.

What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.

You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.

In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.

You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.

Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.

You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.

It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.

"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”

You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.

Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?

There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.

It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.

That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?

Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling.

It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua.

It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments.

His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little.

“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.

Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels.

“I think she will,” Jeonghan said.

Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit.

“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”

Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough.

“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”

“Am I not a real person?”

The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.

“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”

Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment

“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”

Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.

“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”

Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.

“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”

After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.

Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours.

The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much.

It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics.

And he only had one change left.

So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to.

“Are you nervous?” you asked him.

Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because.

However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring.

He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.

“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”

You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.

“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”

He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore.

Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.

“Do you think I can still do it?”

There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see.

Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment.

“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”

You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way.

Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.

"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan.

He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it.

Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.

"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile.

"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"

Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin.

"Come on, humor me"

You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.

"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”

Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.

Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.

Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.

It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.

“Where did you see those pictures?”

“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”

One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.

He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.

“I thought we were getting to know each other”.

Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.

There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.

And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.

Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.

“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.

You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.

“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”

Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”

You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.

In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.

The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.

For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.

You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.

It was become just you and your job.

Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.

“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”

You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.

He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?

Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.

He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.

Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.

Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.

“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.

He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.

"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.

Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.

Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.

"I realized I don't know anything about you"

You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.

"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"

He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.

"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.

At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.

"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.

"Whatever you want to share"

The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.

"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"

You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"

For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.

You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."

You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.

Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.

"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"

You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"

You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed.

Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.

So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.

Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.

"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.

Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.

Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.

"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"

Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.

"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"

The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.

You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.

"You have to rest"

You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.

“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”

Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.

Finally, you were alone.

“You have to rest,” you said again.

You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.

“I need to get it right”

"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"

A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.

"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”

You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else.

“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours.

“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”

You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around.

So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land.

Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him.

“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”

Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing.

“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.

You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.

Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.

But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.

You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.

“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”

You saw it and shook your head again.

“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.

Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.

“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”

“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”

You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.

From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.

With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.

He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.

“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”

Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.

With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,

“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.

Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“I won’t let you fall”

The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you.

You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.

When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink.

“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”

Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course.

His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”

The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.

“I think we should stop here”

You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.

You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.

"I thought that…"

“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.

You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.

But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.

Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.

"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”

You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.

“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”

Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.

You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.

“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”

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saetoru · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。DIFFICULT — GOJO SATORU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ gojo is too stubborn to let you peacefully sleep on the couch (1.2k words)

☽ contents ⋮ mentions of an argument but it's fluff, gn! reader, annoying gojo bc who is he if not a headache

☽ notes ⋮ he is so cute i wanna stab him

gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with.

he’s stubborn and never seems to take things seriously and he never really listens to a word you say—everything always goes in one ear and out the other. like when you tell him you'll be on the couch for the night so you can have space, for example. it seems space is not a word in gojo's dictionary, because he strolls into the living room with his hands in his pockets and his lips whistling a soft tune. you glare at him from your spot on the couch, watching as he stops a few feet before you.

there’s a smooth grin on his face, almost too smooth—like he’s plastered it on for appearance’s sake, like it masks the true nature of his feelings as he hides them with that usual unbothered smile of his.

“is there room for one more?”

“no,” you say bluntly, promptly turning away to face your back to him. you don’t have to look back to know his face is curled into that pout of his—the dangerous one that does too good of a job of convincing you to give him his way.

“kay, fine,” he huffs, and then you hear the soft thud of his body settling on the floor, making you itch to turn and peek over the edge of the couch. you succeed at ignoring for him for approximately thirty seconds before the curiosity gets the better of you and you swallow your pride and take a quick look.

sure enough, he lies curled on the hardwood floor, limbs awkwardly sprawled as he stares up at you with innocent eyes.

"what are you doing?" you furrow your brows, and he stares at you like you've asked a silly question—maybe you have. being hard to get rid of has always been gojo's specialty, and you should know better by now that retiring to the couch is never enough to retire from him.

"i'm going to sleep. what does it look like?" he says like it's obvious. you almost smack him with your pillow for his tone, but you have half a mind not to—it's the perfect opportunity for him to steal it, and it's not your problem he forgot the single most important thing when it comes to sleeping.

"well, why here?" you scowl, making him shrug as he settles his hands behind his head and looks up to the ceiling.

"seems like a good spot to sleep," he says casually, "nice hard floor to cushion my back, cool breeze of the air conditioning to keep me cold, the clock ticking in my ear to keep me up. perfect place, huh? and if i get bored, we even have a tv!"

"i let you have the bed, you idiot," you purse your lips.

"who needs a bed when i can sleep on the hardwood floor next to my sweet little baby—" you cut him off before he can finish, feeling the last possible vein you can preserve while dating a man like gojo satoru pop.

"well, then i'm going to use the bed if you don't," you sit up, grabbing your pillow and blanket. and because he's gojo satoru, the bane of your existence and the sole cause of all your headaches, he sits up too.

"good idea, baby! let's go—"

"no. you stay here, and i'll take the bed."

"okay," he hums, still not making any moves to lay back down.

you quickly realize this isn't a battle you can easily win with him—as is any battle, really—and you roll your eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat as you glare down at him. he looks up at you with that same innocent look—those same wide eyes that blink up at you like they couldn't possibly do any wrong.

"you realize i'm not sharing the bed with you just because you're stubborn, right?" you ask dryly.

he grins, that familiar glint in his eyes that always means trouble, "well, i never said anything about taking the bed, did i?"

"satoru, you can't possibly mean sleeping on the floor next to the bed—"

"it's technically not the bed," he insists, "all you said is you're not sleeping with me. you never said anything about near me."

"okay, i don't want to sleep near you," you scowl.

"ah ah," he shakes his head, "you can't add rules now. it's too late."

"satoru—"

"so what'll it be? bed or couch?"

"i hate you," you grumble, settling back down on the (uncomfortable) cushions of your living room couch, back once more facing him. you can hear his body softly settle back onto the floor again, and after a few beats of silence, he speaks up again.

"can i use your blanket? i'm cold."

"no."

"c'mon, just toss half of it over the edge, i'll scoot. we can make it work—"

"are you trying to piss me off?" you snap as you sit up, glaring down at him once more.

gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with. he's stubborn and annoying and so stupidly handsome. he makes your eyes soften before you can help it as they graze over his messy hair and the soft glow of his lip balm. he makes your anger ebb away slowly no matter how hard you try to latch onto it just from that toothy grin of his. he makes you forget you're arguing and that you should be mad when you notice the soft, gentle traces of love in his eyes.

so you blink as you watch him, letting out a quiet sigh as he shakes his head and offers you a small, innocent smile—one that tells you he loves you, that he's not mad, that he'll wait on the cold, hard floor with no pillow and blanket for you as long as he needs to.

"no," he chuckles, "no i'd never want to make you mad. you're scary when you get mad."

"that's rich, coming from the strongest sorcerer in the world," you mutter, making him laugh softly. and you're not mad anymore—not as much as you were just a bit ago.

maybe it's because you love him too, even despite the way he makes your veins pop, and your patience thin, and your head ache with that aggravating personality of his. maybe that's what love is, when even the bad and the ugly are part of the good.

"behind every strong man is an even stronger—"

"just come here," you groan, scooting over to make room for him on the couch. he doesn't need to be told twice—doesn't even waste a moment as if he's been expecting it all this time as he climbs in beside you and pulls you into his chest.

and it's cramped—it's slightly uncomfortable as your legs dangle over the edge and your pillow barely fits under both of your heads. but his body is warm and his arms hold you tight and you can faintly make out out the thrum of his heart against your body.

maybe it's not so bad—not if it's gojo.

"did you miss me too much?" he wriggles his brows, pouting when you shove his face away as he leans in for a kiss.

"still haven't earned kisses back yet," you grin, "goodnight satoru."

"but i can't sleep without a goodnight kiss—"

"love you," you cut him off with a giggle.

gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with—but you think you win this time.

i want to have gojo satorus babies

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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esmedelacroix · 3 months

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𝕬 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖑 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝕴𝖘𝖓'𝖙 𝕬𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖓 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝕾𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉…

pairing: crown princess!reader x knight!miguel o'hara

cw: messy period sex, unprotected p in v, size kink, blood, dom!miguel o'hara, fingering, size kink, edging kinda, dacryphilia, slight degradation kink

a/n: hey lovies, this isn't my usual content but I have endometriosis and I hate it. But period sex always helps so here. This is set in sort of medival times. Hope you like it, a like, comment, or repost is always appreciated. Let me know what you think!

wc: 2.5k

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

"Ughhhh," "UGhhhH"

"Her Highness has started her menstrual cycle," Archibald, your retiring personal knight, explained to your new personal knight in training, Miguel.

"This is a common occurrence, nothing has ever helped her Highness," Archibald continued.

"Are the doctors not equipped with the medicine needed?" Miguel asked as he heard a high-pitched wail.

"They are but Her Highness has rather odd and abnormally painful symptoms. The doctors can't figure out a cure for it," he sighed.

Miguel bit the interior of his cheek in deep thought and during his break, he decided to go to the library. He sat at one of the desks with piles of biology and anatomy books.

He didn't know any way to make himself useful to you other than to try to study your condition and perhaps figure out a way to help you.

It was hard for him to find much of anything because scientists at the time paid little attention to studying women's bodies and the female reproductive system. It's quite disappointing because women are amazing. They can create life but all male scientists care about is themselves. "What a shame," Miguel muttered to himself as he opened up another textbook.

He didn't take the time to read the cover so he was flabbergasted when he began to read the contents of the book.

He was reading a study about the health benefits of an orgasm when in pain. There are specific chemicals released when both males and females experience an orgasm.

What if these same chemicals can combat menstrual pain, Miguel thought to himself. "Miguel it's time to return to your post," Archibald said as he entered the library.

"I'll be right there," Miguel said as he organized all of his books for later.

"You were studying?" Archibald asked as he led you down the halls.

"Yes, I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for Her Highness but I don't know much about menstrual pain," Miguel sighed.

Archibald hummed in response. "If you want to help the crown princess then you will take her lunch and medicine to her and attempt to get her to eat," she doesn't like to eat or do much anything other than squirm in her bed when she is experiencing menstrual pain.

"Okay," Miguel answered as he opened the doors to your room and brought your food and medicine to you on a tray. Archibald closed the door behind him and wished him luck.

Miguel was content to see that you were asleep and not suffering. You were curled up in a fetal position with a hot compress over your abdomen. Small tears were formed at the corners of your eyes. The pain had even made you cry in your sleep.

Miguel's heart sank seeing you in such a distressed manner. He softly shook your shoulder to wake you up. "Your Highness," he started softly seeing your eyes flutter open.

"It's time for your meal and medicine," he continued. You jolted awake as your eyes adjusted to the light then turned to look at him before feeling your face heat up.

"Who dares enter my room when I am so indecent?" you asked, pulling your sheets up because you were still in your nightgown.

"Where are my manners? I'm your new personal knight, Miguel O'Hara," he introduced with a bow.

You nodded in response, allowing yourself to calm down. You stretched out your arms and sat up against your headboard. Just as you did so, you winced in pain. "My lady, are you still feeling pain?" he asked.

"Yes, I should eat quickly so I can take that medicine," you groaned.

"Yes," Miguel said as he began to cut your food for you and held a forkful up to your lips. You were rather surprised by the gesture but you weren't opposed to it. Archibald never does this for me, you thought to yourself as you enjoyed your food.

There were moments when you had to take a break because of the pain but you finished your meal in record time. After finishing the medicine you were still in tears and extreme pain.

It was enough pain to make you wail. The rumors were true though, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Your voice was soothing even when you sobbed. When tears trickled down your cheeks they only added to your beauty.

Miguel hated to see such a beautiful woman in pain. Especially when there was nothing that he could do to alleviate it. Well, there was one thing he could do. He could suggest that you touch yourself. But weren't in the state to do even that. I could give her an orgasm, he thought to himself before shaking his head.

"No, that would be out of line," he muttered to himself quietly.

"What would be out of line?" you sniffled, turning to him.

"Um well, there was one remedy for your pain that I was researching. But it would be out of line if I helped you perform it," he explained.

"Please do it for me I'll do anything to stop feeling so much pain," you practically begged.

"I'm not sure if a lowly knight like myself should help you do this," he said, trying to convince you to let it go.

"Just tell me what it is, I'm sure I wouldn't mind you doing please just do this one thing for me, Miguel," she pleaded. Miguel was going to deny once more but once his name left your lips pounding like a beautiful song, he felt he couldn’t say no.

"Well, the remedy my lady, is to give you an orgasm," he admitted as his cheeks flushed.

Your own cheeks flushed when you realized that you were basically begging your personal guard to have intercourse with you. "Oh, that's most certainly not what I was expecting you to say," you said as he averted his eyes when you looked in his direction. You weighed the pros and cons of having sex with your new personal knight. You couldn’t even believe you were thinking of sex with a palace guard.

You put your hand to your chin as you thought about it for a good minute sizing him up out of the corner of your eye. He wasn't too bad looking. He was very big, you wondered if his penis was also big.

And his face, well it was magnificent. He looked like royalty in your eyes with that handsome face of his. You could see yourself having sex with him.

“Dismiss everyone on this floor of the palace, Miguel,” You commanded. Miguel shot you a confused look.

“I’m very loud in bed, chop chop Miguel,” you whispered as another wave of pain hit you. Miguel was surprised how your voice went from a sweet soft soft-spoken voice to one dripping in sin.

He got up and stepped out to the hallway relaying your command to Archibald who had everyone on the floor you were on gone in minutes.

“Now that we have some privacy, come here,” you demanded as you winced in pain.

Miguel walked up to you as you laid back holding onto the edge of his t-shirt bringing him down with you. Your faces are inches apart. Hot breaths fanning each other's lips. "Unsheathe your sword, Miguel," you whispered looking into his hungry eyes.

Miguel stripped himself still hovering over you. The second his name left your lips, it was as if you put him in a trance. He did everything he was asked to do. He then bunched up the hem of your nightgown slowly lifting it above your legs slowly. “May I?” he asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.

You propped yourself up on your elbows letting out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes. “You don’t have to be so formal, I need you, to fuck this royal pussy like I’m some common whore at a brothel, that’s an order Miguel” you spat as your face contorted in pain.

Miguel was surprised by your sudden dirty unladylike language. But that went straight to his hardening dick.

He took your nightgown off with a newfound sense of urgency. He was pleased to see that you were almost completely naked underneath, still sporting your menstrual underwear, nipples hardening at the feeling of the cold air hitting them.

He wasted no time pulling off your menstrual underwear and setting it aside. You spread your legs for him to get a better view of your pussy that was now throbbing with want.

Miguel ran his index from your bloody slit to your clit picking up the moisture of your blood and slick. Pressed on your aching bud with his thumb moving it in circular motions. A long moan erupted from your throat. Your hand gripped his wrist tightly as he pushed a finger into your aching hole still playing with your clit with another.

The muscles and veins in his arms flexed and pulsated as he worked your sopping-wet pussy. He added another one of his thick fingers stretching you in preparation for his fat cock. You only looked down for a second when he took his pants off and fear struck the pit of your stomach. He was so big you weren't sure if he'd even fit. That made your sick and twisted mind even thirstier. Wanting more and more of him.

Your hands gripped his arms until your knuckles practically turned white as you tried to suppress your moans as he slipped a third finger into your cunt that was coating his whole hand in your wetness and blood. "Don't conceal it, I wanna hear you, wanna make sure I'm making you feel good," he grunted into your ear as he began to rut against the bed. He lay in between your legs focused on fucking you with his fingers.

Your blood was dripping onto the sheets, but you didn't care, you felt too good. You moaned for him chanting a mantra of his name until his name and the stretch were all you could think about. "Miguel, inside, I want you inside please," you begged.

"Oh yeah? You want this cock in your pussy?" he taunted as a smirk graced his lips.

"Yesyesyesyesyes," was all you could moan out your mind going almost blank as your legs began to shake.

"Tell me how badly you want it, show me how badly you want it," he growled into your ear as he added a fourth finger and picked up the pace.

The pleasure almost completely took you over as fat tears formed at the corner of your eyes. "I need you, inside, Miguel please, need your cock," you moaned shamelessly moving your hips against his fingers matching his speed.

You grip the sheets with one hand, the other holding onto his, as your back arches. Blood and slick gushed out of your pussy as your orgasm approached you at lightning speed. Until it didn't, and you felt the pleasure died down completely. You let out a frustrated whine letting go of the sheets. "Miggy, why," you whined almost sobbing because of the stolen orgasm.

"You said you wanted me in you, you're going to have to work for it, my lady," he said as he lay on the bed and put you on top of him with ease. You straddled him looking down at him with tears in your eyes as he grinned at you.

"Miguel please, help me," you said as you positioned your slit in line with his bulbous tip that was dripping with precum.

"Uh uh uh, you gotta do that on your own," he cooed as he whipped a falling tear from your face.

"I will be your queen soon," you said sternly.

"But right now you're my whore, now get to work, this cock isn't going to ride itself," he spat as he slammed you down onto him practically impaling you on his dick.

You took a moment to adjust to his size. The stretch was amazing. You had never felt so full and he was hitting a sweet spot. You moved slowly, then faster, then much faster. You heard Miguel let out a moan almost sounding like a whimper.

He grips your hips tightly, surely making bruises as you milk him. His eyes rolled back as he tried his hardest not to explode right then and there because of how warm, wet, and tight your pussy felt.

Helpless moans of his name were spilling from your mouth as your blood spilled onto him staining his skin and your sheets. “That’s it, princess, just like that,” Miguel groaned.

Quickly you felt your orgasm approaching, the coil in your stomach about to snap. Your legs began to feel like jelly and you felt yourself stop moving. “I can’t, Mig, help,” you whined trying to keep moving.

“You’ve been a good girl, I’ll take care of ya’,” he said as she moved your hips with his hands that rested on them fucking himself up into you.

The Lewd sound of you chanting his name and wet skin slapping wet skin filled the room. As he picked up the pace your moans became more and more high-pitched. “You’re fuckin’ me s’ good Mig,” you moaned.

“Yeah? Tell me how good I’m doin’ you,” he grunted as fucked you harder too kissing your cervix as his dick started to twitch in you.

“S’ good, love this fat cock,” you whined as you clenched him hard as your legs shook violently.

“Cum with me baby,” he grunted as he pumped himself into you.

“Cumming, I’m gonna cum,” you whined as you creamed around his cock making a mess of him only being able to think of him and utter his name.

Miguel continued to fuck into you elongating your orgasm as he released his hot, thick, cum deep into your womb. You collapsed on top of him panting and trying to catch your breath.

You slowly slid out snuggling into his side. “Sorry, about the mess,” you started, gesturing to his half-soft member that was coated with your blood.

“Oh, no worries Your Highness, a real knight isn’t afraid to get blood on his sword,” he stated.

“I suppose that is true,” you replied, giggling a bit.

“So how is that menstrual pain?” Miguel asked as he caressed your bare back and planted small wet kisses into your neck.

“Honestly, I forgot I even had it, I guess it’s gone, I mean, you made me feel so good,” you sighed breathlessly.

Miguel slowly got up covering you with your bed sheets. “I’ll go ahead and run you a bath my lady,” he said as he prepared your towel, shampoo, and bath salts.

“Thank you, Miguel, I wouldn't be so opposed to you joining me,” you chirped.

“Oh, I do not wish to impose-“ he started before you cut him off.

“That’s an order, Miguel,” you whispered, with a small smirk playing on your lips. You were nowhere near done and neither was he.

"You little minx," he hummed as he disappeared into the bathroom.

. . .

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

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edenesth · 3 months

Text

The Way to His Heart [8]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9

"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.

Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."

Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"

"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.

He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.

Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.

The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."

Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.

"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."

Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."

Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"

Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.

"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."

Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.

The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.

In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"

Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.

As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.

But you weren't entirely alone, of course.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.

"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.

You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.

With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."

Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.

Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."

Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."

Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."

As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."

"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.

Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."

Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."

You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"

This time, you nodded with a wide smile.

"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."

Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.

With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."

He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."

Mission accomplished.

Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."

As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."

His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.

"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.

Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.

Yes, he's here with you now.

Nothing bad will happen.

His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."

The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"

Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.

The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"

"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.

You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.

Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.

Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."

The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."

"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."

"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.

Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"

Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"

The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.

"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.

All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.

Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.

But what if there was still hope for them?

What if they had a chance?

After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.

You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."

That should be me!

The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?

In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."

Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"

"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.

Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."

Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.

Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.

Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.

Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?

"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.

Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."

"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.

Your real home, not this nightmare.

« Preview of Part 9 »

As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.

"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.

If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?

Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."

Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.

"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."

Oh, crap.

Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈

Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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bangtanflirt · 8 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)

I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)

____

The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.

“Who are you?”

The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.

“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”

“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”

“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”

She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.

You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.

Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.

It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.

“It’s lukewarm.”

“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”

You wave your hand dismissively.

“No need. You’re fired.”

The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.

“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”

“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”

She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.

“Please! Please, I need this!”

You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.

Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.

“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”

Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.

“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”

“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”

“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”

You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.

You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall. Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.

“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”

“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”

“Still?”

The tension in the air is palpable.

“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”

“So they’re cooking the books?”

“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”

“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”

The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.

“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”

A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.

“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”

“It’s just—”

“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”

Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.

You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”

That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.

It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.

___

The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).

Yup. A typical day.

Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.

“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.

“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”

You keep your smile through gritted teeth.

“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”

“I’m sure.”

The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.

“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”

“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.

“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”

“Sounds good sir.”

What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.

So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.

“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”

“What type of technology are we talking?”

“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”

You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.

“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”

“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”

“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”

He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.

Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.

Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.

“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”

You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.

“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”

You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.

“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”

You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.

“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”

“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”

Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.

“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”

So you hold your breath and swipe.

And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.

This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.

Holy fuck.

“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”

Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.

“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”

You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.

Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.

“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”

There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.

“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”

Shit. He got you. Checkmate.

The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.

“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”

You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.

“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.

“Excuse me?!”

“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”

It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.

You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.

“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”

___

The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.

It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.

“This is where you’ll be staying.”

You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.

“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”

He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

No response.

“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”

Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.

“I’m hungry Miss.”

It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.

That’s when the realization hits you.

If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.

It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.

You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.

“Eat up.”

With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.

And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.

____

A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!

#bts ot7 x reader #hybrid bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #hurt/comfort #unnatural instincts

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sunnebeam · 9 months

Text

"i always get the job done."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi being unironically romantic

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: tysm for all the love in the first drabble! here's more of househubby!yoongi & his badass wife,, as always, lemme know ur thoughts :>

You're stepping off the bus, having clocked out of work earlier than usual, when you see your husband strolling along the sidewalk with his signature apron on and a mesh tote bag on his shoulder.

"Yoonie!" you call out to him.

Your heels clack against the pavement as you run towards him. The bits of impact hurt your soles but you forget all about the pain when Yoongi kisses you on the forehead as soon as you reach him.

"You're early," he remarks, grabbing your hand and placing it on his bicep before walking the two of you to the direction he was going.

"Boss let us leave early," you explain, oblivious to the looks that other passersby are giving you and your husband.

("Is he a gangster?"

"He looks so scary!"

"What is he doing with that woman?"

"Is he kidnapping her?!")

It's when Yoongi leads you to a secluded alley that you realize you're not heading towards your home.

"Uh, Yoonie? Where are we going?"

Your husband smiles radically.

"You'll see."

He leads you through a bunch of twists and corners before finally arriving at an equally secluded shop. The dim lighting does nothing to deter him as he opens the squeaky door and leads you both inside.

"Ah, Yoongi," a deep rumble echoes as soon as you walk in. "You're back."

"Of course," your husband responds. "I did everything you told me to do."

Huh?

"Did you, now?" the voice taunts, and you can finally match a face to the voice when he steps into the light. "Are you sure you did everything?"

"I always get the job done. You know me, Seokjin."

The job?

The man called Seokjin sneers before nodding and heading to his shop's backroom, leaving you and your husband alone.

"Yoonie?" you call his name. "What's going on?"

"A gamble, darling," he tells you. "I'm making a gamble."

Your eyes widen. "What?! Are you—"

"Yoongi, are you ready?"

Seokjin emerges from the backroom with a big cork board in tow. The board is brightly decorated, divided into three sections each showing different...

"...prizes?" you think out loud. "Yoonie, what is all this?"

"A stamp scavenger hunt, darling," your husband explains in a no-nonsense tone as Seokjin hands him a dart. "I've collected ten stamps from ten different stores like Seokjin told me to."

Oh. Oh.

"Why didn't you just say so?" you laugh, nerves vanishing as you take a good look at the cork board. "Well, what's the prize?"

"Third place gets a cute plushie," Seokjin gives you the rundown. "Second place gets a self-cleaning robot vaccuum—"

("That's what I was hoping to get.")

"—and first place gets an all-expense paid trip for two to Jeju."

("Yoonie, forget the vaccuum. Get this!")

And so the gamble begins.

The three of you wait with bated breaths as Yoongi positions himself. His eyes are closed and he blows air on the blunt end of the dart as if it'll help. Opening his eyes, he takes a deep breath, swings his arm back lightly, then throws the dart.

It lands on third place.

"Oooooh! It looks so cute!" you squeal, taking the cute plushie from Seokjin and hugging it to your chest. "It looks like Holly!"

Your happy giggles flood the shop.

"Well, Yoongi," Seokjin tuts. "Sorry but..." He smirks. "Looks like you lost."

Your husband looks at you nuzzling the plushie in delight.

"You fool," Yoongi says, "haven't you realized by now?" Now he's the one smirking. "The true prize is seeing my beautiful wife's smile—"

"Yoonie! Stop embarrassing me!"

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justmeinadaze · 2 months

Text

Secret Underneath Part 2 (Steddie X Plus Size You)

Warnings: Daddy Steddie (Businessman Steve/ Rockstar Eddie) & Plus Size Fem Sub Y/N, SMUT (just pure smut; me working on this may be why I'm so subby right now lol), light smacking, slight spit play( if you squint), spanking, LOTS of dirty talk.

SLIGHT ANGST, like very slight, mentions of insecurities when it comes to the reader and her now knowing who they are. Brief mentions of an ex (that I can use for angst fodder later because I'm me)

More than anything they are feeling each other out and setting up some boundaries.

Word Count: 4835

Part 1

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your friend asks as she lightly touches your shoulder before becoming distracted herself. “Maggie! I swear to God you kids are going to get me to retire early.”

“Promise?”, one of the kids teases.

Blinking, you pull yourself back into the moment, remembering the anonymity everyone requested including you.

“Ok, guys, come on. I think we bothered the people up here enough. There’s a reason they make so much money and it’s because they don’t deal with kids like you.”, you joke as you usher them to follow the guide.

It takes all of your energy not to glance their way again but you can feel their eyes trail after you as you disappear with the class.

After dropping off the kids on campus and making sure everyone gets home safe, you head back to your apartment. As soon as the door shuts you lean against the wood, sliding down to the floor as you cry.

You enjoyed being with Mogul and Rockstar the other night but now you know who they were. Were they going to leave now that you did? They wanted their identities to be private but never said for how long. After what happened, you were willing to wait but now… now what happens?

You hadn’t even began to fully process that they were millionaire womanizer Steve Harrington and famous well known party bad boy rockstar Eddie Munson. Insecurities had already begun to seep into your brain and it killed you.

Your phone vibrated causing you to roll your eyes and glance at the notification that danced across your screen.

(5:15pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!

(5:16pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude declined your invitation for a video chat.

(5:17pm) Accept the invitation.

(5:17pm) Please.

(5:18pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!

“Yes, Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson, how can I help you?”, you answer in a short, annoyed tone.

“You can let us see your face for starters. If I wanted to look at the wall I can turn around.”

“Of your penthouse I bet.”

“We’re still in my office. We wanted to reach out earlier but we thought you’d still be on your field trip or at the school.”

“We wanted to give you time to get home so we could talk properly. Are you crying? Why are you crying?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look, you don’t have to pander to me, ok? I know now this whole anonymity thing is ruined and you’d rather be with someone more suited to your lifestyle.”

“Define ‘our lifestyle’.”

“For you, Mr. Harrington, I imagine some blond girl with big tits who comes from money and can squeeze her itty-bitty body into the most expensive dress your money can buy. For bad boy Mr. Munson, I see you with more or less the same but she’s cool like Janis Joplin.”

“I do like Janis.”

“So…big tits, money, and blond. Is there a height requirement?”

Your hand covers your mouth as you breathily laugh at their joke.

“No, no height requirement but according to princess here there is a weight limit. I guess because rich men like us are super vain we only care about a woman’s appearance and not her personality.”

“Is that right, honey? Or is the curvy baby with attitude a bit self-conscious?”

“THIS is why we wanted anonymity. We aren’t what you read in the papers, sweetheart. I’d figure the other night would have gone in the category of proving that. If we only cared about what you claim we never would have come down to the hotel.”

After a long exhale, you tilt your phone to allow them to see your face.

“I think you also forget, honey, we have seen you. Yeah, you were wearing that mask but we knew about your body, your hair, and your tits. We’ve had our hands on them, remember?”

“You just caught us off guard today because… now we regret making you wear that sleep mask thing. Your entire face is so fucking beautiful. I wonder if your real name is equally so.”

Leaning your head on your knees, you take in their demeanors on the other end of your screen. They did still seem to be in his office but they were both sitting on a couch within. Steve was still wearing his sleek suit and Eddie in a black shirt with jeans but their eyes were no longer reflecting surprise as they had earlier that day. Right now, they seemed to be displaying genuine concern.

“My name is Y/N.”

Both men softly grinned making you do the same.

“Beautiful… would, um, would you be willing to meet us in a couple of hours at that hotel? We’d like to talk to you some more. Maybe figure some things out when it comes to us three.”

“We’d invite you to our place but we feel like it might make you more comfortable for us to meet somewhere where there’s common ground…so speak.”

“You two live together?”

“Oh good. We can still keep some secrets!”, Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, no point for me to get my own place when I’m on tour a lot and Stevie here travels for work.”

“Ok.”, you nod as you rise to your feet. “I’ll, um, see you both in a couple of hours.”

##################

Nerves float through you belly as you stand outside the hotel door, exhaling as you prepare for what may be on the other side. To your surprise both men are already there, Steve pacing by the window as he scrolls through his phone while Eddie lays on his back on top of the bed.

As soon as the door closes, they come to attention, pausing as their eyes rake over your body. When you were here last time you had thrown on clothes not caring how you were dressed after your ordeal and today you weren’t expecting to see your two admirers so you were in your jeans and school t-shirt with a messy bun and sneakers.

This time you wanted to show off with your off-shoulder butterfly sleeve green blouse and black skirt that accentuated your curves. The black heels helped fuel any confidence you were lacking and your hair flowed down around you giving you that extra layer of armor as well as hiding that still prominent bruise you had lingering on your skin.

“Jesus Christ.”, Eddie breathed before clearing his throat and glancing towards Steve. “You know, seeing her now, Harrington, she doesn’t hit that height requirement we talked about.”

His friend rolled his eyes as you giggled.

“This is so surreal.”

“What is?”, Steve asked.

“I just…I just read about you the other day. About how you just made a big financial move that made you 400 million dollars. And you…I’ve been listening to your voice for so long. I have your songs on my phone.”

“Yeah? And is that bad?”

“Ah, no, Munson. It’s those insecurities again which by the way I find totally amusing for a girl filled with so much sass.”, the pretty boy grins. “If I may ask, what are the other Daddies like? Why aren’t you like this with them?”

You scoff as you saunter to a nearby chair, place your purse down, and sit crossing your legs. Both men try to control their eyes from scanning along your limbs but Steve in particular struggles to focus on your face as his gaze constantly shifts to your heels.

“A lot of men on there have no idea what they are doing and the men that I have met up with are either trust fund babies or CEOs. They aren’t famous or really worked hard for anything. Personally, I think that’s why they struggle being dominate. They don’t know how to fight or work hard. They barely even know what they want let alone how to take care of me.”

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you are sexy.”, Eddie sighs almost excitedly. “You have no reason to be insecure at all, Y/N. I mean we get it. Like I said, this is part of the reason we wanted the anonymity. We want you to like us for us not our names or status.”

“Is that what happened with your last Baby?”

They glance towards each other again before answering.

“No.”

“No…”

“No.”, Steve says again with more conviction. “No, that’s not what happened.”

“That’s all I get?”

“You get what we give you.”

Your breathing stutters a bit at the metalhead’s words as your pussy clenches at his casual yet confident tone.

“Y/N, honey, can you do me a favor and uncross your legs?” You do as he asks going the extra mile of opening them so they have a good view at your silk black panties underneath. “You have no idea how bad I want to throw those gorgeous high heeled legs over my shoulders and just fucking devour your little pussy till your shaking.”

A small moan escapes your lips but when you try to rub your thighs together for relief Eddie tuts loudly across from you.

“Ah ah, baby. Keep your legs open till we’re done talking and you!”, he chuckles as he gestures towards his friend. “Stay focused.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“When it comes to sex, princess, is there anything we should avoid? Any hard no’s or anything like that?”

“Nothing…too rough. I’m not into masochistic stuff like canes and flogs but you can hit me or spank me. You’ll probably be doing that a lot.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby girl. We can handle the brat.”, Steve grins as he winks, taking off his suit jacket and tie, tossing them on the other chair beside him.

“What about you two?”

That gives them pause before they smirk and the mogul continues rolling up his sleeves.

“Would you believe you’re the first woman to ask us that?”, Eddie ask as he shakes his head. “No, pretty girl. As long as you’re vocal and tell us when or if you’re uncomfortable, we’re happy. That being said, do you have a safe word you prefer?”

“I’m alright with ‘red’, Daddy.”

Steve walks to your side and extends his hand out for you to take so he can guide you to the edge of the bed beside Eddie before descending to his knees. The long-haired boy brushes some of your hair back and his ringed fingers lightly trace your bruise.

“How does this feel? Still hurt?”

“Yes, sir, but not as much as before.”

“Fucking asshole putting his hands on our baby girl.”, he growled low as his lips kiss your skin.

“That’s another thing, Y/N, because apparently we weren’t clear last time. You are ours. You belong to us and in turn we take care of you.”

“Are we still…still…keeping this a secret?”, you inquire trying to focus as Eddie’s kisses trailed to your neck while Steve’s mouth lingered on your thigh.

“Is that alright? Till we get more comfortable with each other and the dynamic.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. Please.”

“Please what, baby? What do you want?”, the rockstar breathes in your ear.

“I want Daddy to eat my pussy.”

You watch as Steve’s head disappears into your skirt making you groan when his nose presses against your panty covered core and you feel him inhale.

“Fuck, she smells so fucking good.” His wide tongue flattens against the fabric and Eddie grins as your mouth falls open. “Jesus, Ed, and she tastes so sweet. Let’s get these off, honey.”

Nodding aggressively, you helped him pull down your panties and he tossed them towards his jacket. He licked a strip between your folds, wrapping his mouth around your clit, and repeating the process as his eyes watched your face.

“Oh fuck, Daddy.”

Eddie’s hand cups your cheek as he brings your lips to his, open mouth kissing you as his own tongue caresses yours. Your body abruptly jostles as Steve bunches your skirt around your waist and throws your legs over his shoulders before pressing his face into your cunt as his tongue vigorously flicked your bundle of nerves.

Your fingers threaded through his hair as you fell back against the mattress and grinded your hips. His large palms glide up your stomach as the other man lifts off your shirt and throws it to the floor. You moan, gripping the mogul’s wrist as his digits pinch and roll your nipple between them.

“Oh my God, yes, Daddy! I’m gonna cum!

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave as Steve shakes his head from side to side helping you ride out your high. Refusing to slow down by any means, the man’s arms circle your hips, holding them down as he continues to run his tongue between you folds as he builds you back up.

Feeling a warmth beside you, you shift your gaze to see a now naked Eddie on his knees stroking himself by your face.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock, pretty girl?” When you don’t respond, his palm lightly smacks your cheek, his eyes scanning yours for discomfort when they finally meet. “I asked you something.”

“M’sorry. Da-Daddy’s mouth feels sooooo good.”

“Maybe I should have him stop so you can pay attention.”

“NO! No, please. I’ll listen! I’ll listen. I’ll listen.” When he repeated his question, you nodded as your free hand started to reach for him.

“No, baby. Just keep your hands on Steve. Fun fact, he kind of likes when you pull his hair while he’s making you feel good.”, Eddie grins as his palm pets your head. “Just keep your throat open for me, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

A guttural moan left the rockstars lips when his cock slid through your parted ones. His girth overwhelmed you instantly but you loved the way he tasted as every vein dragged along your tongue.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it. God damn Steve, her mouth feels amazing.”

As the metalhead began subtly thrusting his hips, you did what he suggested, gripping the other man’s hair tightly in your fingers as you tried not to gag.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie panted as he pulled himself back and you collected some air. “It’s ok to gag and drool, baby. We don’t mind it messy, trust me, and the thought of this pretty face choking on my cock just…fuck. Oh, wait. You’re going to cum again aren’t you?”, he says in an almost mocking tone that has your pussy clenching.

Almost abruptly, Steve climbs up your body and snake one of his hands behind your neck, lifting you just enough for your forehead to lean against his. Pushing his ring and middle finger into your core, the sound of your slick filled the room as he thrust them into you at a brutal pace.

“Cum again, baby. Come on. Soak Daddy’s fingers.”, he chanted under his breath as one of your arms wrapped around his neck. “I gotchu, Y/N. Daddy’s right here. Cum, baby girl. Keep your eyes open and on me.”

You screamed as the coil snapped, panting as your hair was yanked back.

“Keep your eyes open, little girl!”

His large digits continue to pump into you, slowing their rhythm as you gradually come down from your high with both men murmuring praises as they hovered above you.

Through heavy lidded eyes you see them smirk at each other as Eddie pats his shoulder as if to say thank you before he maneuvers around on the bed, flipping you onto your stomach, and pushing you up on all fours.

Steve lays on his back and hastily adjusts you till your in-between his legs. With a hungry gaze, you watch as he unbuckles his belt and pushes down his pants just enough to free his cock, stroking it in front of you as you wait.

“Go head, Y/N.”, Eddie permits making you smile as you tongue darts out to lick the precum off his tip. “Atta girl. Remember, it’s ok to be messy.”

“Just tap me twice if you need a minute, honey.”

“Ok, Daddy. Oh-Oh fuck.”

While you two were talking, the rockstar had placed himself behind you, collecting your arousal with his length before guiding himself into your entrance. You whimper at his size as your nails claw under Steve’s button up shirt down his abs.

“Fuck me, baby. I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying—shit—I’m trying to go slow but your pussy is just pulling me in…squeezing Daddy so tight.”

The man underneath you bit his lip as your face scrunched in pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Such a good girl taking him so well.” Your hand wrapped around him as your mouth enveloped his cock, taking him as far down as you could. “Fuck, good-good girl.”

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, Eddie waited, allowing you to get accustomed to him while you focused on his friend. Taking his recommendation, you lowered yourself as far down as you could, gagging around Steve’s massive size, and coming off him quickly leaving trail of spit that lingered on your chin.

“There you go. God, Y/N, that felt amazing. Do you want Daddy to take control?”

“Please… I trust you.”

Almost too gently, he lifted your hair into a ponytail, caressing your lips with his thumb as they fell open while Eddie began thrusting into you. When his cock found its way into your mouth again, however, he was anything but.

His mushroom tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as he guided your head lower and lower onto his lap.

“You’re doing so good, honey. Fuck! K-Keep your tongue flat. That’s it, baby. Just like that. Mmm get Daddy nice and wet. Yeah? Is Eddie fucking you nice and deep?”

Tears consistently fell at the euphoria you were feeling as Eddie’s cock hit all the right places inside of you and then some while Steve’s words and actions were making you clench the rockstar to an almost a painful degree.

“Fuck, man!”, he blissfully shouted as he spanked your behind and slowed his pace as he watched his cock disappear inside you. “She fucking loves sucking your dick. Every time she gags, her cunt wraps tighter around me.”

The pretty boy grins as he pets your head and dries some of your tears.

“You like sucking my cock, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, I love it.

“Can Daddy fuck your tight your little throat till you both cum?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!”

Eddie stills long enough for his friend to rise to his knees and slide himself back into your mouth, matching his pace as they both thrust into you. Your orgasm takes you by surprise as you roughly tap on Steve’s body and he immediately pulls back as your upper body collapses on the mattress. The rockstar grunts as reaches over to grab your hair, bringing you flush against his chest as he chases his release. His arms circle around to your tummy and you place your own on top of his as he slams his seed inside of you.

“Thank you.”, you whisper as you pant against his cheek and in response he tilts his head to kiss your lips.

“Come here, baby girl.”, Steve coos, his head ticking to the side when you shake yours.

“I don’t want to ruin your suit, Daddy.”

Smiling softly, he takes you in his arms and you can’t help but inhale his scent as you nuzzle your face into his neck. After placing you on the pillows, he tugs his shirt over his head and removes the pants the rest of the way.

“I don’t care about my clothes, honey. All that matters to me is that you’re comfortable and taken care of. Plus, it’s kind of sexy to me to have your gorgeous, naked, sweat covered body against my suit.”

Positioning himself between your legs, he brings one over his shoulder and lets out a long, pleasure filled sigh as he guides his cock into your somewhat overstimulated and dripping pussy.

“God…fuck me.”

At this angle, it felt like he was splitting you in half but in the best possible way.

“Mmph, fuck, Daddy. You’re so big.”

“I know, Y/N. I know but you can take it. You’re doing so well already.” Steve’s lips kiss your ankle just below your high heel as he gradually began finding his rhythm. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

When you didn’t do what he told you to, you felt him lean over you as he pressed his palms into the mattress to steady himself.

“Y/N, stop making us repeat ourselves. Now, open your eyes.”

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy. You feel—mmm—so good. I can’t—”

“Yes you can, little girl. Don’t let our kindness fool you. We can be mean when we need to be and have no problem punishing bad girls.”

Your eyes open to meet his dominate ones and just as Eddie had he scans your face for any signs of discomfort. When he found none, he rested his forehead on your own.

“This is the first time we’re really getting to see them.” Steve rolls his waist and you mewl as he roughly hits that sensitive spot inside you. “Right there? Ok, baby.”

His jaw goes slack as he pounds into you, slamming into you g-spot over and over again turning you into a moaning mess that drives him crazy. Pushing back on to his knees, you watch as a glob of spit falls from his mouth before he utilizes his thumb to rub it into your clit.

“FUCK! I’m gonna cum!”

The bed shakes underneath you as skin smacking skin loudly echoes through the room. The coil in your belly snaps for the final time that night and Steve’s lips crash to yours to capture every moan he can. After a few moments, his head dips to your side and his groans fill your ear as he empties himself inside you.

You wince as the man tries to carefully pull out, murmuring apologies as he kisses your face.

“Here, sweetheart, drink this.”, Eddie instructs in a gentle tone as he hands you a glass of water that you promptly chug back. “I’m going to go figure out how to turn the rocket ship they a call a tub into a bath so we can get you all clean.”

You giggle at his joke as Steve over exaggeratedly sighs as he presses his face into the pillow beside yours.

“He’s just trying to impress you by seeming more ‘down to earth’. Our bathrooms at home are more or less the same.”

“I’m sure they are better than mine. It’s a 30 sq ft cube and I shower with the door open so I don’t feel like I’m actually IN the movie Cube.”

His eyes scan you over as you laugh at your circumstance.

“I hope this doesn’t come off as rude so if it is please tell me but…you don’t make enough with the website to get a better apartment?”

“I don’t think it’s rude. Um, no. I don’t deal with too many Daddies. I mean I deal with them but not enough to actually get anything going or keep them around long term. Either they can’t handle me or I can’t tolerate them.”

“Girl who knows what she wants?”

“Girl who’s been through enough and is tired of wasting her time.”

He nods as Eddie saunters back into the bedroom to tell you the bath is ready but as he casually comes around to pick you up, you stop him.

“It’s ok. You don’t need to…”

As you start to climb out of bed, he places his palm on your chest and pushes you back down.

“I don’t need to what?”

“You don’t need to try and lift me.”

“Good to know.”, he responds sarcastically as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms. “Thankfully I don’t need to try. I already know what I can and can’t do.”

After removing your skirt and heels and placing you in the water, the metalhead climbs in behind you and begins cleaning your body as Steve, now donning boxers, places himself on the edge.

“Am I allowed to ask questions?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but we decide whether or not to answer.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“Did you have a particular question in mind, honey or…?”

“Just some general things.”, you shrug. “Like I know you make a lot of money but I don’t actually understand what you do.”

“Um, the short answer would be I’m an investor, I guess. My father owned and ran an advertising firm that I took over. Then I utilized those funds to buy and resell properties. That business move you mentioned? I bought a building in Las Vegas and spruced it up. Since it was right on the strip it sold for a high dollar value.”

“Did that go right over your head?”, Eddie asked in jest.

“A bit.”, you smile shyly.

“Those kids you brought…what do you teach that would bring them to my office?”

“Oh, that wasn’t my class. I was helping my friend with her field trip because another teacher called in sick. She teaches economics; I teach English.”

Both men make a subtle ah noise as they chuckle.

“Almost all of students know you.”, you smile as you shift your focus to the rockstar. “They say you need to post more on social media.”

“Yeah, I have no idea how any of that works. I just post what they tell me and Gareth runs our band one. I’m an old man, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god. No, you aren’t.”, you laugh as you keen into his chest.

You don’t see it but both men exchange another look before Eddie wraps his arms over your own and holds you tightly against him as he kisses your shoulder.

“I’m, um, assuming that doesn’t bother you…that we are older?”

“Most sugar daddies are, honey.”

“That’s not what I asked.”, Steve scolds as he reaches out to lightly grip your chin.

“No, it doesn’t bother me.” Nodding at your answer, he releases you to take hold of your hand and help you to your feet to step onto the bathmat allowing the metalhead to do the same so he can dry you. “Do it bother you?”

“No, baby girl, it doesn’t.”

“Now if any younger guys are out here hitting on you—“ Eddie smiles when your loud belly laugh cuts him off.

“Trust me, no one is hitting on me. I’m not saying that in like an insecure way. I’m just, usually my sarcasm gets in the way.”

After leading you back into the bedroom, you’re surprised when Steve grabs his shirt and puts it on you, falling to his knees as he closes the buttons.

“This material feels nice.” A sexy smirk paints his face as you watch his fingers move. “Smells like you.”

As soon as he completes his task, his face presses into your stomach as his hands tenderly trail up one of your legs.

“I smell cigarettes to. Almost like my best friend insists on smoking around me.”

“Oh, sure, because you don’t smoke with me sometimes.”, Eddie teases as you both smile. “I like that you smell like us both though. Let’s people know you belong to someone already.”

Taking a hold of your bicep, he guides you under the covers and you immediately spoon your body into his as he circles his arm around you again.

“Should I…remove my profile from the site?”, you ask sleepily as Steve lays in front of you and brushes some of your hair away from your face.

“We would appreciate that. Tomorrow we can give you our number so we can talk directly on the phone and get some more information so we can send you money when you need it. I would also like to work on getting you a better place to stay. I don’t like you being in a small place where—”

“Steven.”, Eddie chuckles as he interrupts his friend. “Look at her.”

As his eyes glanced over you, he realized you had fallen asleep, your steady breathing and calm face making them swoon.

“Am I asking for too much? I hate the idea of her living somewhere she isn’t comfortable.”, the mogul inquires as he slides further under the covers and caresses your skin while the rockstar props up on his elbow.

“She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.”, he grins. “But no, I don’t think you’re going overboard.”

“You know how we are. That’s why women always took advantage of us.”

“That’s why we’re taking things a bit slower this time so we don’t have another incident like last time.”

Steve growled under his breath at the thought.

“I don’t think Y/N would be as vindictive as our ex was. Yeah she’s got a mouth but she seems up front and honest. I like that.”

“Me to.”

“I hope we aren’t wrong about this one, Ed.”

############

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