#secondly. this was so hot i can feel myself burning up in real time what the hell 😭😭😭😭😭
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miraclewoozi ¡ 1 year ago
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no i just. i just need a few weeks to recover from this.
Like A Melody | ljh x f!reader
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Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3.9k | Pairing: ljh x f!reader | genre: smut
Jihoon has fucked you in his studio before, but never like this.
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Warnings: dom!jihoon, studio sex, biting, hair pulling, grinding, cumming in pants, multiple orgasms, oral f. rec., fingering,, recorded sex (just voices), male masturbation, praise kink, piv sex, creampie
Reader Notes: chubby, has breasts and a vagina, subby
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Jihoon needs to take a break. 
He desperately needs to take a break, and he knows this, so why can’t he do it?
He’s been working on music for hours; his fingers are starting to cramp from plucking guitar strings and pressing down piano keys, his throat is sore from trying lyric after lyric, and his hair is a mess from his fingers running through it every other minute. His eyes are exhausted, the blue light lenses in his glasses only doing so much. Even his back hurts, which rarely happens now that he lifts so heavy. 
But he just can’t make himself quit, which is why he breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the knock. It’s soft, just like you, and he calls out a quiet, “Come in,” feeling the smile stretch his lips as soon as your sweet face peeks through the slowly opening door. 
“Are you busy?” You ask apprehensively, your eyes darting between his face and his computer. 
He can’t take a break for himself but he can for you, so he says, “Not at all, baby,” and pulls his glasses off, minimizing his music production software. Pushing away from his desk, he turns his chair to face you and holds his hand out, waiting for you to come closer and take it. He just holds your hand for a minute, staring up at you with tired eyes and letting them blink closed when you lean down and press your lips to his. 
Kissing you is as easy as loving you. It’s one of the few times in his life where he can shut his brain off and just feel, because every movement comes naturally to him. Dancing and singing do too, of course, but he has to count beats and remember words and keep every next move in mind. 
With you, Jihoon can just do what feels right. Like taking hold of your knee with his free hand and pulling until you give in and straddle him in his chair. He loves how plush and perfect you feel against him, all of his sharp edges rounded out by your curves, and he loves even more having your weight on him. 
He can take it, he can take you, and he likes to remind you at every opportunity. 
Sliding lower in the chair, he pulls your hips into his to let you feel his hardening dick, his hand flexing in yours when you grind down. He can feel how hot you are through your little pajama shorts, and if he knows you at all, you’re wet already. He works his fingers free of yours to slide them between your legs, pulling your shorts and panties to the side so he can feel you through his thin athletic pants. 
Your arousal soaks the fabric as soon as he thrusts up into you, making him let out a small laugh against your lips. You pout in response and mutter, “Shut up,” still working your hips against his. 
“Didn’t say anything, baby,” he teases, smirking up at you and squeezing your lush hips with both hands. You sink yours into his hair and pull, and suddenly, nothing is funny. His hips buck against yours as his cock twitches, precum leaking from the head adding to the wet patch on his lap. 
Your hips roll into his and he starts to throb, his dick pulsing in time with his heart. He can’t let you keep going or you’ll make him cum in his pants, or maybe… he could? 
Should he? 
It makes you feel good to make him feel good, and you always have a little pep in your step after he lets you make him cum first. He’s also desperate to get his mouth on you, and you’ll be more inclined to let him take care of you if he’s already taken care of. 
With his mind made up, he pulls you down onto his cock and grinds into you, exhaling a moan against your mouth when you tug on his hair again. You love it this length, you’ve told him, and he’s going to keep it like this for as long as he possibly can. Partially for you, mostly because he fucking adores having you brush it and play with it and braid it. 
He gets to be so close to you, and your fingers in his hair feel heavenly, even (especially) when you get a little rough. 
His scalp stings with the next pull and it sends a shiver down his spine, ending in a sharp buck of his hips. He stretches his thumbs out to pull your pussy apart so he can grind into your clit, hoping to take you over the edge with him. 
He’s getting close already, and you’re so wet, he can feel every inch of your cunt like there’s nothing separating him from you. Soon enough, there will be nothing, and he’ll be able to lick and suck and kiss you as much as he wants. 
You bite his lip and drag your nails over his scalp, and that’s it for him. 
His brain goes offline and his hips stutter against yours, a low groan leaving his open mouth as his dick twitches and jerks, streaks of cum splattering the inside of his pants. Your hips don’t stop moving until he stops them himself, his harsh grip dimpling your flesh. 
“Fuck,” Jihoon sighs, blinking his eyes open to find you beaming at him. 
He can only smile wryly at you in response, shaking his head and letting go of your hips to grab you by the waist. 
“Up you go,” he pushes, hefting you up to sit on his keyboard, discordant notes filling the studio until he leans forward and presses mute. 
“Are you su-”
“I’ve literally dreamed about this,” he tells you, for the first time. 
“You have?” You almost sound like you don’t believe him, and Jihoon simply can’t have that.
“Yes. I’ve dreamed about spreading you out on my desk just like this,” he shoulders his way between your legs. “And kissing up these thighs,” he presses his mouth to your soft skin, digging his teeth in only once, though he wants to leave you covered in bite marks. 
“And feeling them squeeze my head when I finally get you on my tongue,” he leans in and licks from your cunt to your clit, fighting a smile when your thighs snap closed just like he knew they would. 
He wants to talk to you more but he can’t pull himself away from your pussy, can’t make his mouth form words when he’s so busy using it on you. And honestly, his priority is keeping it on you, for as long as he possibly can. 
Between work and sleep, he doesn’t get to taste you nearly as often as he wants to, and now that he actually is between work and sleep, he plans on making the most of it. By shoving his tongue inside you over and over, by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until you cry, by groaning and humming into you both so you can feel the vibrations and to voice his obsession with your pussy. 
And Jihoon is obsessed with your pussy, make no mistake. If he didn’t love his job so much, he’d quit and spend all his time worshiping you, taking care of you, loving you. He honestly thinks he’d make a killer house husband, and someday, when he retires, he plans on becoming one. 
He can imagine it now, cleaning and working out and sleeping until you come home, then feeding you and fucking you till the sun sets, reading to you and massaging away any soreness before wrapping you up in his arms and falling to sleep together. He can still make music while you’re gone, but he won’t be jetting off or practicing for hours on end anymore. 
He’s not ready for that now, but for a distant dream, it’s pretty enticing. 
Even more enticing is the paradise between your thighs; the taste of you, the scent of you, the feel of you clouding his mind. He can barely breathe but that doesn’t matter, not when you’re moving with his tongue like this, grinding your hips onto his face as he sucks and sucks and sucks at your swollen little clit. 
He wishes he could record the sounds coming out of your mouth, wishes he could play them back to you, watch you squirm and feel you flush at the sheer debauchery of them. It occurs to him that he could, but he’d have to pull away from you enough to ask and he’s unable to do so at the moment. 
You’re just too hot and wet and perfect for him to stop for even a second, so he’ll save that idea for another time and focus on making you cum for him now. He can tell you’re getting close, by the way your thighs shudder against his ears, by the keen you let out when he sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks, by the hand you sink into his hair to hold him to you, as if he’d ever want to leave. 
All it takes is a groan and a shake of his head and you’re cumming, your arousal leaking all over his chin and dripping down his throat to soak into the neckline of his t-shirt. He’ll take it off as soon as he gains the will to detach himself from you. 
It doesn’t come to him until his eyes travel up your body and catch on the way your tits heave in your sleep tank. He wants to see them, feel them, taste them, bury his face in them. 
Finally, he stands and rips off his shirt, leaning over you and waiting for you to raise your arms before tugging your top off and throwing it to the side. He takes a second to appreciate your bare breasts, the shape and weight of them intoxicating, and then shoves his face between them, licking over to one nipple and opening his mouth around it with a groan. 
He fucking loves your tits, and he shows you just how much with his lips and his teeth and his tongue, one thigh between yours to hold them open for his searching fingers. They find your clit with practiced ease and start to rub staccato circles, chasing you when your hips buck in sensitivity. 
He covers your other breast with his free hand, squeezing and brushing his thumb over your pebbled nipple as he sucks at its twin. You must have already showered, your skin tasting like your honey and cocoa butter lotion, and he can’t get enough, his head filling with clouds and images of you dripping wet and running your hands all over your body. 
He’s gotten you messy again, but he’s sure you knew what you were doing when you knocked on his studio door. This is almost always how you end up when you come to check on him, his hunger for you insatiable, incurable. 
How could he ever get enough of you when you’re this luscious, this sweet, this perfect? His mouth strays from your breast to your stomach, his lips tracing your rolls and stretch marks and cute little belly button before he sinks back down into his chair. He pushes your legs apart with a firm hand and replaces his fingers with his tongue, gliding it over you and sliding his fingers down to your entrance. 
He fills you with them slowly even as your cunt flutters and squeezes, wanting them deeper already. He’ll give you what you want, he always does, but first he’ll tease you a little bit. Not to be mean, or to punish you for something, but because he fucking loves to hear you beg. 
It always takes you a little push to lose your shyness, to find your voice, and this time, his push comes in the form of three fingers stretching your entrance open, sinking in only to the first knuckle. Your hips roll into his hand and his free one flies up to hold them still, his arm banding over your lap to hold you down so he can fill you at his pace. 
He goes much slower than he knows you would prefer, and he presses his smile into your clit when you finally break down. 
“Jihoon, please, I’ve been so good for you,” you whine, and he feels the heat spread from head to toe as he realizes it’s one of those nights. The kind where you need him to take control, to be rough with you, to reward you when you’ve earned it. 
And you have earned it, so he lets his fingers fill you, pushing them in all the way and murmuring into your clit, “You have been good, baby. I’ll give you what you need, promise.��
You just whimper, your head tilting back on your neck when he scissors his fingers apart and your walls clinging to them as he pulls them out to the tip. “Eyes on me, baby.”
He waits for you to return your gaze to his before pushing his fingers back inside of you and beginning to fuck you with them, his lips pursing around your clit and sucking with every thrust. Your pussy is so fucking hot and wet around his fingers, it makes him moan into you, just the thought of feeling you wrapped around his cock enough to reawaken it. 
It twitches in his damp boxers when a curl of his fingers beckons forth a rush of wetness and a sharp keen, one that echoes in his mind like a looped track.  
“Baby, can I record you?” 
He asks before he can stop himself, but now that it’s out in the air, he won’t take it back. He rests his cheek against your thigh as he waits, his heart pounding and his dick throbbing. 
“Um, sure?” You don’t sound certain, and Jihoon doesn’t want you to regret anything. He can always delete them, but he doesn’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with. 
“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n. I just think it would be… really fucking hot. Having your voice on file, being able to listen to you whenever I want, using your sounds in songs that will never be heard by anyone but us.”
You squirm under his forearm and clench around his fingers, and he believes you when you say, “Do it, Jihoon. Record me.”
His lips stretch in a broad, genuine smile and he reaches for the computer mouse, opening his recording software and clicking the red button. 
He watches little waves form on the baseline, curls his fingers, grinds them into the rough patch inside of you, and arches an eyebrow. You gasp weakly, seemingly shy now that your noises are being picked up by something other than his ears. 
Jihoon can be patient though, knows that soon enough, he’ll make you forget all about it. 
You’re still being good, holding eye contact and keeping your thighs spread for him, so he rewards you with his mouth around your clit, a heavy suck startling a moan from your parted lips. He fights a smile, his lips pursing and pulling at the swollen bundle of nerves, and starts to hum, knowing you love the vibrations. 
He can’t see the software from here but the wave must spike because you let out a sharp cry, your nails scratching at the edge of his desk until he takes your hands and puts them on his head. Your fingers delve into his hair and you pull his face into your pussy, and he knows he’s got you. 
He didn’t really consider the mic picking up his own noises but he’s sure it is, his grunts and groans audible even with your thighs pressed to his ears. He can’t stop though, can’t hold them in when you taste so fucking good, when your cunt is searing hot and soaking wet under his mouth, when your nails are scratching at his scalp and sending zaps of electricity down his spine. 
They all end in his cock, and he feels it jerk against the waistband of his boxers. He’s tired of them, removes his arm from your hips to shove them and his pants down, groaning loudly when his cock pops out into the open air. It’s sticky with cum and hard enough to hurt, and he can’t resist taking hold of it with his free hand, squeezing hard at the base to ease some of the ache. 
His fingers thrust into you as he strokes his dick, the slick sounds loud in his studio, and you crane your neck, your eyes searching until they find his hand at work. 
“Fuck, Jihoon, I want you inside of me,” you whine breathlessly, trying to pull him off your cunt by the hair. That just makes him moan into you, makes his cock jump in his grasp, makes him fuck his fingers into you harder. 
“Cum for me first,” he demands, determined to get at least two orgasms on this file for mixing purposes. It seems he’s still a producer even when he’s trying to just be a boyfriend. 
You pout but listen well, your cries reaching a fever pitch as your pussy flutters around his fingers, arousal spilling out of you and dripping between the keys of his keyboard. He may have to buy a new one, but that’s a problem for future Jihoon, and a problem he would be lucky to have. 
“Perfect, baby, that was perfect,” he murmurs in a low tone, wanting your voice to be the focal point. 
“Will you fuck me now?” You pant, reaching down to smooth your fingers over the head of his cock, making him shiver and swallow a groan. 
“Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you now,” he whispers, standing from the chair and pulling away from you to tug you off his desk. Your knees shake when you get your feet under you and he smirks, cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your lips before taking you by the hips and turning you around. 
He squeezes your shoulder and starts pushing you down, letting you bend over the rest of the way by yourself. You fold your arms under your head, resting your cheek on them so you can watch as he guides his dick to your cunt and sinks inside. 
You’re stretched out enough to take him easily, your walls forming to his cock and gripping it tightly. You’re such a perfect fucking fit for him, it’s like you were made for one another, like your bodies were designed to match. It blows his mind every single time he has the privilege of being inside of you. 
He’s reluctant to leave you and you’re reluctant to let him, but pulling out means he can thrust back in. He keeps one hand on your shoulder and drops the other to your hip, clutching at it like a lifeline as he starts to fuck you in earnest. 
His hips smack into your plush ass rhythmically, the sound causing sharp spikes on the waveform graph and acting as the perfect percussion to the moans and whimpers escaping you. The mic is right by your mouth and he knows they’re being picked up beautifully, butterflies gathering in his stomach just at the thought of getting to hear them through his headphones. 
“Sound so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunts, angling his hips up to hit your g-spot and smirking when you yelp at the sensation. Your back arches, your stomach pressing into his keyboard and your hips pressing into his, and he just holds you tighter, fucks into you harder. 
Your pussy undulates around him as his hand slides from your shoulder to join the other at your hip, both of them gripping your ass and spreading you apart so he can watch his cock enter you again and again. It’s a sight he’ll never get tired of, a feeling he’ll never get used to, a gift he’ll never truly deserve. 
It’s what will send him over the edge, just as long as he makes you fall first. He already came before you once and he doesn’t plan on doing so again for a long time, but he needs to get you there soon or he won’t have a choice. 
One of his hands slips around your waist to dive between your legs, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and starting to strum it as he fills you over and over. You whimper and tremble against him, your cunt fluttering wildly around his aching cock and your hand flying down to grasp his wrist like you think he’ll pull away. 
He doesn’t intend to, honestly wouldn’t mind being attached to you like this for the rest of his life, knows already that he wants to spend it with you. 
His fingers get rougher on your clit and his hips move on autopilot as his brain empties, his balls aching to do the same. “Please cum, fuck. Baby, please fucking cum.”
Jihoon should have known he’d be the one begging you at the end of the night. 
Thankfully, you like to indulge him, your pussy locking him in place as you cum with a loud cry, followed by gasping sobs of his name when he doesn’t stop fucking you. He’s right there, he’s right fucking-
“Jihoon, cum inside me. Fill me up, I want it,” you whimper, pressing your ass into his hips and squeezing your inner muscles around his throbbing cock, and that’s the end for him. 
He drops down to cover your body with his as he breaks apart, his own moans and whimpers registering on the graph alongside yours and his cum flooding into you in pulses. His hand leaves your clit so he can wrap his arm around your waist in a hug, his cheek pressed to your back and his other hand finding yours. 
He tangles your fingers together and rises up, pulling you with him and sitting heavily in his chair. He’s still hard enough his cock doesn’t slip out, and he leans you to the side so he can cup your cheek and turn your face into his, pressing his lips to yours in an openmouthed kiss. 
“Love you, baby,” he whispers into your mouth, waiting for you to say it back before kissing his way to your neck and biting down gently, just enough to leave an indent of his teeth behind. 
“Will you come to bed with me?” You whisper in a small voice, and he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and responding, “Of course, baby.” 
He reaches a hand out and stops the recording, saving the file to his private hard drive, ideas filling his head already. They can wait until the morning though, you asked him to go to bed with you and go to bed he will. 
Jihoon thinks this might be the most productive break he’s ever had. 
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AN: this one's for all the jihoon stans who have been thirsting with me lately 💖
My Masterlist
My Chubby!Reader Masterlist
#j recs.#woozi rec.#j’s favs.#yk those fics you just know are gonna be delectable. yeah. i can feel it in my bones#<- well slap my ass n call me susie i was right. I WAS RIGHT.#you really did not need to devour this hard emily ohhhhh my god. oh this is the most deranged i’ve felt in a long time especially over him#this was so??????#okay wait let me sit. let me be seated.#the way you write is so fucking addicting. it scratches this itch in my brain i swear your sentence structure and your prose is soooooooo#satisfying and i can read your work more smoothly than like 85% of the books currently sat on my shelf. i mean that with my whole heart#secondly. this was so hot i can feel myself burning up in real time what the hell 😭😭😭😭😭#and yet it was SO sweet and full of love? i could feel their adoration for each other so strongly the whole time???#god im such a sucker for hardworking jihoon and the fact he couldn’t force himself to take a break for him but the second reader appeared he#DROPPED EVERYTHING?????? good god when will that be me. WHEN WILL THAT. BE ME.#i want to eat a house you don’t understand. no one understands. this has broke. me#i am a changed woman after this genuinely#THE MOMENT HE LIFTED HER UP ONTO HIS KEYBOARD???? THE BEGGING???? DESPERATE SOFTDOM JIHOON???? clutching my pearls. kissing your brain#when the fic was so juicy you don’t HAVE the ability to express how good it was? currently felt#i also have to say. your chubby reader pieces mean so much to me deep down because they’re always so well done. and it’s not just that you#make the descriptions vague so it’s more viable that reader COULD be bigger. you explicitly throw in these gorgeous little#descriptions in that make you (me? the general you) feel so seen and yet still so appreciated and it’s so.#anyway tldr i am so in love with this and with your work and i physically cant think about anything but this anymore 🫠#excellent beautiful stunning wonderful gorgeous fantastic breathtaking magnificent remarkable perfect etc etc etc 🩵#queue minus one.
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boop-le-snoot ¡ 4 years ago
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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 30
First time reader click here
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TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter is a horror movie. There's blood, gore and psychological horror elements. Lemme know if it was actually scary - I'm desensitized to this shit. This was written to come out on Halloween but I was too slow with writing.
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Wooden floor creaking behind me, I couldn't feel the cold of it, not even a single splinter piercing the arches of them, I ran like my life depended on it. The darkness behind me was alive; it breathed, pulsated, spreading along the walls of the hallway like mold. The hallway seemed to be endless.
As soon as I realized that, I noticed that it, in fact, did have an end and not a door was in sight; that quickly proved to br also just a trick of the eye - there were doors, the hallway was riddled with them, each one dark, identical and placed neatly about five feet apart. With shaking hands, I turned the knob, slamming the door behind me with a loud bang.
Panting, I let myself slide against the door, eyes closed, sheet landing in a puddle of white fabric on the floor around me. First five seconds passed quietly; then, a noise interrupted my panicked thinking and my eyes flew open as the scene in front of me produced more confusion.
The familiar scene of the pond behind my grandparents' stables, the poppies - a splash of blood red against the dull greens and browns - swaying in the breeze. A Dora the Explorer bucket hat and a six-year-old me, hair in pigtails, poking at a spot of moist soil with a large stick.
I knew where this was going yet I couldn't pull my eyes away from the scene that was going to unfold. A stallion my parents had recently bought, ill-tempered and moody, jumping over the low fence and galloping noisily right at mini-me. The terrified animal was screaming yet I was oblivious to it's distress, too busy trying to fish out earthworms out of the wet ground. Almost in slo-mo, mini-me noticed the running, screaming animal and bolted for safety, its hooves missing my little body barely by a feet.
I felt the cold water of the pond on my skin. It was dirty and blooming at the time, musky smell assaulting my senses, murky water choking the life out of both versions of me. In the distance, I noticed a much younger and slimmer dad sprinting full-speed towards the splashing child in the pond. He was screaming something and I leaned in, trying to hear him better.
The scene vanished into thin, wispy smoke. My head was once again clear and the suffocating dread and panic subsided, letting me take in several deep breaths and try to assess the situation calmly. I had survived that accident, even successfully overcame my fear of swimming later on.
Hands shaking and heart fluttering like a frightened bird, I recoiled from the locked door when it began to rattle, the noise deafening in the eerie quiet of the house.
The shadows were taunting me. Trapping me in my worst fears, making me relive my worst memories. The artifact needed something from me - what was it? I wondered, tucking the sheet in some semblance of a toga and standing up to explore the room. Save for a few outdated pieces of furniture, it was cold and empty, void of life. Nowhere to hide.
I paced the room, coming to a halt next to the heavy, thick velvet curtains. Expecting to see a window behind them, I was surprised with another old wooden door with a bent handle that had gathered an impressive layer of dust. With rattling behind me increasingly growing in volume, I had no other option but to press it down and quickly dart into the next dark room.
Clint. Lifeless eyes wide open, his body laying at my feet, sheet-white and rust coloured stains adorning his mouth, nails black and broken as if he'd been clawing at the dilapidated wooden floors. I backed away from him, further into the room - the archer's body began to move and tremble, tiny little gashes appearing on every inch of exposed skin. The thing that was breaking out of him glowed, pale blue and sickly.
"That's not..." I whispered to myself. "Clint is alive," As if I had been doused with cold water, the images of MAFS incident seeped into my mind, the what-ifs of my past actions weighing heavily and clouding my mind with guilt.
"Come on, we don't have much time," Steph's voice appeared behind my back, loud and out of nowhere. I was rightfully sceptical about the reality of him - while his face was the usual, tense expression of boredom, he stood differently. I couldn't describe the difference if I tried; it just felt wrong. Like a puzzle piece was missing.
"I don't think so, demon dude," Squaring my shoulders once again, I prepared myself for the inevitable pain.
"Who?" The copycat asked, faking concern surprisingly well. "It's the artifact. It's making you see things that aren't real," With a wave of his hand, the door flew open, exposing the hallway filled with the void that was chasing me previously.
"Oh what I saw was real alright," I countered, tilting my head to examine the entity. Unknowingly, it had given itself away - Stephen's magic always glowed gold and orange, in the sense that he wasn't like Loki - Strange's spells were always visible. "I'd rather you kill me then spread your vile disease beyond this... Space," With none of the bravery I actually had, bluff came surprisingly easy. Perhaps, I really was ready to die so my friends and family could live.
Not-Stephen tsked and grinned maliciously, once again waving his hands about. "Killing you? So barbaric and an absolute waste of potential." The shadows pushed something into the gaping hole of the doorway, something curled up in a fetal position and whimpering. The entity picked up the man by the shoulders, forcing him to kneel in front of it, teary baby browns staring back at me, wide with terror.
Tony. My feet took an involuntary step forward, where my Tony was trembling, whimpering in the creature's grasp, unseeing eyes looking straight forward. As if I wasn't there.
"Submit and I will let him go. Right now, he's relieving the worst memories of his life," The entity raised an eyebrow, a mock imitation of Stephen's expression. I could hear Tony mumbling faintly, something about his chest and Afghanistan and bombs and Obadiah.
It pissed me off. Firstly, how dare this wannabe-Pennywise, this LOST-fog-monster-reject to lay his filthy metaphysical fingers on my Tony. And secondly, for the sloppy intelligence job - I had been woken up by Tony's nightmares more than enough to know his biggest fear wasn't Afghanistan. It wasn't Obadiah and it wasn't Bucky killing his parents, it wasn't even the vast, consuming black emptiness of the space behind the wormhole.
Anger burning my throat, I lunged at not-Stephen with a bloodcurdling scream, feeling my nails dig into the cold, clammy flesh of the thing's throat. Taken by surprise, both of us stumbled, falling into the abyss of the hallway, me kicking and scratching and screaming all the way, fingers squeezing deeply into the lifeless imitation of flesh. His screams mixed with mine and Tony's into a shrieking cacophony.
The darkness was laughing, cackling, noise sharp like nails on a chalkboard. It hurt, but the thing's grip on me hurt even more. "He'll never love you like you expect him to. They don't care about you. The mage said he'd help you and now you're dying here, alone," Black smoke began leaking out of the impostor's mouth along with the words, both acrid and venomous.
My head was pounding as more and more of the stuff came into contact with my body. My vision swam, bordering on unconsciousness. "If I'm dying, I'm taking you with me, bitch," I screamed out, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until I exploded together with my surroundings, in a short of white, blinding light.
And then, there was darkness. My limbs were once again filled with concrete, mouth dry and skin burning like I'd been branded with a hot iron.
I opened my eyes to the familiar sight of the room with the fireplace. The fire was roaring, crackling and and shooting noisy sparks, accompanied by heavy breathing to my left. Disregarding the nausea that followed my every movement, I hung my head over the side of the car coming to witness both sorcerers laying haphazardly on the floor, a thin river of blood seeping into the carpet from Wong's head.
Confused, disoriented and terrified, I called out for them, voice barely audible and terse. Had I been screaming?
The sorcerers' chests rose and fell rapidly; my panic subsided but not by much. I crawled out of the cot only to land ungracefully on my face, body refusing to cooperate and feeling about as well as after I'd ran a marathon. Inch by inch, I crawled over to the chair I had left my things on, fighting with my body for every movement I made.
Fumbling, l pulled out my phone and pressed the green call button on the one person one would call in this situation. My best friend.
"Yes, dear?" His baritone was tense but nonetheless calm.
"Help, some-something happened," I managed to say, no louder than a whisper. "Sanctum," I clarified, hearing a noise of things falling over and several distressed voices shouting in the background.
"I am coming, do not end the call," Loki replied immediately, barking out several commands I didn't quite catch. There were more noises of distress as I obediently stayed on the phone. "Darling, can you tell me what happened?"
"I- Killed?" I tried to articulate my thoughts, tongue becoming more and more uncooperative by the second.
"Oh my God, who's dead?!" I heard Bruce yell, probably, right in Loki's ear.
"The Thing," I clarified, hoping to calm him down.
Loki cursed in his native language, I heard him trying to wrestle the phone from someone - unsuccessfully so, I might say, as Tony's distraught voice was the next thing I heard. "Princess, listen to me. Are you okay? Where's Strange? We're gonna be there in 10 minutes. We're coming."
An avalanche of information for my overtaxed brain and aching body, I struggled to keep up with Tony's rambling and filtering out Loki's screeching in the background. So much noise. My head hurt. "No, Steph and Wong are down. Alive." I managed to convey the most important part, a terrified sob leaving my chest burning. "Please, talk," I begged Tony, not wanting to be left in that terrifying, consuming silence ever again.
And Tony talked. He babbled nonstop, things that I didn't really catch neither care about, having enough strength to give a hum of approval every few seconds or so. It appeared to be as calming to him as it was to me, I didn't hear any more complaints from the team, only brief increase in volume as one of them got closer to the phone. A part of me conceded I should've made at least one joke about being put on loudspeaker, however, my brain was exhausted.
Burnt out, rather. The emptiness settled in my bones, chilly, like the blood had been sucked out of me, making my body just a vessel for the darkness that stalked my nightmares. I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my bare thigh, feeling none of the pain, just the relief when blood seeped through the cuts, crimson and warm.
That's how they found me. Loki threw open the door, breaking one of the hinges, eyes immediately darting between me and the laying sorcerers, as he swiftly cast a bright golden spell on the room, warming us from the inside out. Carefully stepping over the two men, Loki kneeled in front of me, green eyes staring right into mine.
I heard cursing and thudding but all I could focus on was the shining emerald of Loki's eyes. "Oh, child," He whispered, reaching out with both arms to pull me into his chest. I couldn't have resisted even if I wanted to, my body was utterly drained of fight.
"What happened?" Tony asked, a hysterical pitch to his voice.
"I can assume there was a failsafe left behind by the artifact, it took out both sorcerers and attempted to finish the job it started," Loki spoke up, hand gently petting my hair, still clutching my limp body like I was dying. "She fought it off, I don't know how, but she fought it off. It has entered a dormant state again."
"What do you mean took them all out?" In his distress, Tony seemed to have lost all sensibility. "What happened to her?!" He was getting impatient, angry.
"With an artifact like that, it's a blessing they are still alive. It is ancient and unpredictable," Loki explained patiently, none of his usual vitriol present. "And she... You could say she was mind-raped," He stated, quieter.
I groaned in protest. Loki's spell of gold did what felt like a wonder: the light was slowly coming back into the room, into me, filling me with warmth I didn't know I could lack. "As if," I slurred. "As if that Pennywise wannabe could ever," My body was, nonetheless, exhausted. "I've swallowed more kids than he could ever," My eyelids dropped, the comforting noise of Tony's and Loki's combined chuckle amplifying the surplus of warmth within me.
Last thing I saw was Tony's watery smile, tears crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he lifted me from Loki's arms, hot rod red of his suit saturating the room with color. Feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever, I let my eyes close voluntarily, a smile crawling onto my face. I was right. Tony was alright, it wasn't really him that was getting tortured in the nightmare-verse.
"What..." I heard Stephen croak from somewhere. "Baby?!" His voice raised a whole octave; Thor's fond chuckle followed the rustling of fabric and a few stronger choice words from the sorcerer as Loki briefed everyone on the situation at hand.
"How is she, Tones?" Bruce asked quietly from above me.
"Pretty out of it but on her way back to health," Tony replied with another watery laugh. "Cracking jokes and whatnot clownery."
Bruce exhaled in relief, stroking my face with the side of his fingers. It was almost palpable, the general atmosphere of respite in the room, the sudden free flow of oxygen to my lungs.
"I am so sorry," Stephen's whisper was more felt than heard by me; the spice of his cologne and copper of blood reached my nostrils, burning them, keeping the warmth from leaving my body ever again.
My fingers weakly held out to him, finally coming to grasp his more-than-usual shaking hand. "Not your fault," I breathed. "Persistent cursed box," Were my last words before my consciousness gave out. Sleep sweet sleep.
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backtobackbakubabe ¡ 4 years ago
Text
I am the Alpha Now Part 17
Bakugo X Reader
Words : 2431
Masterlist
Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically.
************************************************************************
When you woke up you felt like you had a hangover. Your whole body ached, your mouth was dry, your head was pounding, and to top it off you wanted to hurl. Lucky for you, you didn’t really have enough in your stomach to throw up.
So instead you just laid still, curled up on your side, doing your best to pretend the last 48 hours weren’t real. Pretending that you were back in your room at UA and any minute now Katsuki was going to turn over and wrap you in his arms. Maybe he’d scold you for sleeping in. Or maybe he’d be in a good mood and bring you coffee, just the way he knows you like it.
You were ripped away from your little fantasy as the sound of the door slamming. “Wake up brat, it’s time to eat.” Dabi plopped down rather roughly next to you with a bag in hand. “You’re American right? So, I figured this would work.”
You cracked an eye open to see a McDonalds bag and your stomach started to roll just looking at it. “I think I’m going to be sick…”
Dabi scoffed, “What you too good for fast food or something?” He pulled out a box of nuggets and some fries.
Honestly it had been a while since you had the greasy food. Katsuki had made it a habit to cook for you whenever he could. He was a master meal prepper and his cooking was always healthy. Delicious for sure, but he would never give you junk food.
You hummed as you tried to sit up. Clenching your eyes shut the entire time. “I’m pretty sure if I eat anything right now, I’ll just throw it up.”
“And I’m pretty sure you won’t feel any better until you get some food in your stomach. Now stop being such a child and eat.” He pulled out a gallon jug of water, “And drink this. You’re probably a little dehydrated from sweating so much earlier.”
He caught you looking at him like he had two heads and he growled. “Look just because I’m pretty much a villain, and I basically kidnapped you, doesn’t mean I’m completely heartless. And I’m definitely not stupid. If you’re going to be in any kind of fighting condition, we need to at least try to take care of you.”
You glared at him, “Do you usually take care of people by beating the shit out of them?”
He shoved the box of nuggets into your hands, “No, I don’t usually take care of anyone at all. Be happy I’m even trying. Just fucking eat already we have more work to do.”
You froze with a nugget halfway to your mouth. “I-I can’t take anymore today.”
He just rolled his eyes, “God you’re such a weenie. We’re just going over some files. Besides I thought you weren’t scared of me…”
Your eyebrows knitted together, “I’m not scared of you. If I wanted to leave right now I could! The only thing keeping me here is the blackmail…” Your voice got quieter, “And the fact that my body doesn’t seem to want to move…”
You took a small nibble of your chicken nugget and you had to admit it was actually helping a little bit. Dabi gave you a knowing smirk, “Atta girl. Eat up, we have a lot to go over and I don’t like repeating myself.”
He spread a few files open on the table in front of you. You noticed one belonged to you and you really hoped he wouldn’t be going into that one. The rest however seemed to be everything they knew about Shigaraki. On top there where several pictures of people that he had killed. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as your vision blurred and your head swam with those images you would never be able to unsee. How was Dabi so casual about this?
Speaking of Dabi he was currently snapping in your face, “Seriously? Pay attention would ya? …..Fucking zombie”
You tried to return your attention back to what he was saying. Honestly, a lot of it you already knew from what you learned about him at UA. The league of villains was a hot topic. The league had a weird obsession with the students that attended there so naturally UA made sure to prepare them for worst case scenario.
You weren’t going to tell Dabi that though. Firstly, because he doesn’t need to know how much you already knew about him, and secondly… the longer he talks about this shit, the longer you don’t have to “train” with him.
Dabi had been absolutely brutal. He had broken your bones, burned you, stabbed you, and at one point you were sure he gave you a concussion. The worst part was you couldn’t even defend yourself. You were expected to sit there and voluntarily let him hurt you over and over again. It was no wonder why you felt like shit now.
You continued to nibble on your nuggets as Dabi drowned on, pointing to words on a page that you couldn’t even focus on. You hugged your knees to your chest, and for the hundredth time since you left UA, you felt empty. There was this constant nagging feeling at the back of your mind. No doubt it was Katsuki or Mercy doing everything in their power to open up the bond on their end. It was starting to give you a headache.
You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. Dabi without missing a beat continued talking while pushing the water jug towards you.
When you didn’t drink anything, he rolled his eyes, “You have a headache because you’re dehydrated. Fucking drink some water.”
A deep growl rolled through your chest, “No… I have a headache because in the last 48 hours a certain someone has bashed my skull in… Twice!” You winced as a sharp but brief pain ripped through your head.
To your disgust Dabi just chuckled at your pain. “You’ll heal. Besides it’s probably just a migraine. Don’t be dramatic.” He stood up and dimmed the lights. “There, now quit your bitchin, drink your water, and fucking pay attention would ya?”
*****************BAKUGO’S POV*****************************
He was never known to be a patient man. So, it was no surprise that he had been pacing for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Hawks. There was no reason he should have beaten Hawks here… the fucker had wings!
He was running an angry hand through his hair when he felt a light breeze followed by the thud of feet hitting the ground.
“About fucking time! What? Did you stop to get your nails done on the way here? I told you I’m in a hurry!” Bakugo’s eyes narrowed as Hawks took his time approaching him.
“Calm down dude. I told you I was in the middle of hero business. I even did an extra sweep on the way here looking for her. If you could just pull the stick out of your ass for two sec-“
Bakugo grabbed Hawks by his stupid jacket. For as tightly as he was gripping him, his voice somehow remained calm “That stick up my ass, is the fact that my girlfriend is missing. I’m sorry if that doesn’t seem to be a priority for you, but I refuse to give up until I find her. Now… are you going to listen to what I have to say, or am I just wasting my time?”
Hawks eyes went from surprised, to angry, to soft in the matter of seconds. But that’s what he does best right? Bakugo’s heard stories about how sneaky and manipulative Hawks can be. “Look I get it, you’re worried. I can’t even pretend to understand how deep this goes. Aizawa told me about your little link to her or whatever… sounds intense.”
Bakugo’s dropped his hands back to his sides and grunted, “It is. And it’s also none of your business So, are you going to help or what?”
Hawks put his hand on Bakugo’s shoulder and tried to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise you. I’ll do everything I can to bring her home safe.”
**************** Y/N POV*******************************
“You want me to what?”
You were currently wrapped in a blanket looking at Dabi as if he had lost his mind. Which in your defense he probably had.
“Exactly what I said. I want you to try and heal yourself as you’re getting hurt. Do your freaky little eye glowy thing you do when you heal yourself before I actually hurt you. See if it helps counteract it.” He was reaching a hand out to you now, and you noticed they were starting to smoke a little.
You jumped away from him, “Please don’t. I thought you said we were done with that for today?” You frantically looked around for a place you could hide from him. You could lock yourself in the bathroom. But then he’d probably just kick the door down… or melt the handle.
Your gaze snapped back to his, he looked like he was having fun. “Besides it’s hard to stop my shift once I start to go into Alpha mode.”
Dabi smirked at you, “Okay well as much as I’m dying to see what that looks like. Can you just…not? I mean you said you heal faster as a human right?”
You shook your head, “I mean, technically I do. But I think that’s just because my human body is easier to hurt. My wolf form is more… I don’t know. Durable, I guess. Katsuki collapsed a whole ass mountain on me once during training. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but I survived.”
Dabi nodded as he uncharacteristically took interest in what you were saying. “Ok so your wolf form can take more damage, but you heal faster human… And this has nothing to do with your “Alpha mode” or whatever?”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. “You look like you have an idea… and usually your ideas hurt.”
“Relax weenie. I’m just trying to think this through. I’m trying to find out if there is a way to combine your wolf strength, with your human healing. Can you go into Alpha mode without shifting?”
You scoffed, “Where you not just listening. Going into Alpha mode is what triggers my shift. I can do it for small bursts of time as long as I reign it back in fast enough. But no longer than a minute.”
He threw his hands in the air in exasperation, “You say that as if it’s a well known fact. I fucking met you like two days ago. I don’t even know what the difference between Alpha mode and the rest of you even is.”
You pulled the blanket tighter around you, “If it’s not something that I do through the pack bond then I need to use Alpha mode. So shifting. Alpha commands. My senses are already naturally heightened but they’re even more so in Alpha Mode. Then there’s the speed, strength, and like I said the durability. And yes, technically healing is a part of that, but that’s something that over time just became a subconscious thing. Hence why I do it more in my human form.”
He walked over to you and tugged on the blanket, “Okay, well you said you could use it in short bursts. Do you think you could focus on just the durability part? Could you make that a subconscious thing too?” He yanked the blanket away from and pressed a hot palm on your bicep and squeezed.
You squeezed your eyes shut as they began to water. It wasn’t burning, not yet, but it was hot enough to be uncomfortable. “Look I’m getting really sick of your shit. You keep pushing me like this and one of us is going to end up dead, and it’s not going to be the one who can heal themselves.” When you opened your eyes again they were glowing. Your anger was quickly becoming the only emotion you could feel.
“Good girl. Now-“
“NO!” You snapped at him. “You don’t get to call me a good girl.” You grabbed his hand and yanked it back away from your arm. “You don’t get to beat me and berate me, and then buy me chicken nuggets and think everything is okay.” You could feel yourself start to slowly shift, your teeth coming to a point, your claws start to poke through your fingernails. “Because I am NOT YOUR GOOD GIRL!” You felt the familiar tingle go down your spine, signally you were about to shift.
“Whatever you do, don’t shift! Hold that as long as possible.” He was totally ignoring your outburst. “Start trying to heal yourself.”
You growled, “Heal myself? I’m not hurt you lunatic.”
A burning sensation engulfed the hand you were using to hold his wrist. “You are now… Now try again. Start healing yourself. Before I do anything. I want to test something out.”
****************BAKUGO POV***********************************
The whole meeting has just been one big game. Hawks fed Bakugo lies about the progress he’s made looking for you. While Bakugo lied about his suspicions of you packing up for America. Both men secretly trying to get the other to slip up and admit what they know.
Bakugo’s teeth were grinding so hard he was surprised his teeth hadn’t cracked.
Hawks was in the middle of another bullshit lie when two familiar people approached the table and took a seat on either side of Bakugo. “Oi! What the fuck are you doing here?”
Hawks smirked, “Oh I hope you don’t mind. They were worried about you, so I asked them to meet us.”
Kirishima and Midoriya were both giving him worried, sympathetic looks to which Bakugo rolled his eyes. “I told you idiots I would check in later tonight.”
Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, but you didn’t look so hot when we left you this morning. Plus, we feel bad for ditching you for graduation.”
Midoriya pipped in, “What kind of hero’s would we be if we can’t even help find our own friend. But we’re here now and we’re ready to help in any way we can.”
Bakugo’s nerves were already too fried to even start to argue with Midoriya. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, knowing otherwise he was going to blow the building up. When he opened his eyes though, Hawks was gone. “WHAT THE FUCK?! WHERE DID THE CHICKEN SHIT GO?!”
**********************************************************************
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xuxszx ¡ 4 years ago
Text
nervous |Henry Cavill
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Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader
Warning: smut, first time (?)
"You nervous?" his voice was thoughtful. His T-shirt I was wearing was far too big for me, but I didn't care. I actually enjoyed it. My body has never been a source of pride for me. Wide hips and thick thighs were the worst parts of my body. My breasts, big ass and flat stomach saved me - maybe they were not perfect, but I liked them. But now that I knew Henry was going to see me completely naked - I was a little scared and stressed. What if he doesn't like him? "Come back to me" his smile managed to chase away even the darkest thoughts. I was damn in love with this beautiful man who allowed himself to sneak in and live in my heart without my permission.
"I'm sorry, I was thoughtful" he ran his hands over my shoulders and made goose bumps through me. How was it possible that he was always warm. I hugged him because right now I needed to feel his strong arms around my waist. My heart was pounding, and it's all because of Henry.
"What's wrong, honey" the concern in his voice was very charming. I guess he will always impress me with his protection and with what love he looks at me. He was an incredibly loved person and probably there was no other man in the world with such a beautiful smile. I didn't want to tell him about my fears, he certainly saw other more beautiful girls before me. I was afraid that I would not please him and he would not want me anymore, although it would be a huge surprise for me. "Tell Me" he murmured softly against my lips, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine. How did he do that such small gestures seem incredibly loved and unique?
"Just... " I tried to cover my flushed cheeks with my hair. It was so hard to admit the uncertainty I felt. But it was still my Cavill, I could tell him everything. "Surely you saw... All these, other girls and ... They definitely were better than me" shock is painted on his beautiful face when he hears what I say. He is surprised and I don't know where to look away because he is looking at me so closely.
"You mean you have any complexes?" the frown between his eyebrows confirms my belief that I shouldn't have told him that. Many people think that my figure is good. However, in my opinion it is terrible. Buying pants is a real drama. First of all, big thighs, secondly, big ass and thirdly, a flat stomach - they do not go hand in hand with pants designers. Warm hands on my hips roll up my T-shirt so that Henry can take it off and throw it on the floor. I run away from him when he watches me closely. I am intimidated by his attentive look on my body, and he lifts my chin and puts a tender kiss on my lips. He turns me towards the mirror and stands behind me. Hair falls on one shoulder, and a single kiss tickles my neck. "What do you not like so much?"
"Everything. Probably the most legs. I hate that when I sit down they are three times bigger. Hips, but I am comforted by the fact that although it will be easier for children to give birth. Oh, I would forget about the ass, which is huge and I can't buy proper pants through it. I don't know why you are with me, Hank. There are many prettier girls than me who would be yours with one finger kick. And ..." I speak right away. I'm talking about all my complexes because I know he won't laugh at me. He will understand me. I want to continue but interrupts me.
"You're kidding me, right? Damn, Y/N you have no reason to think about yourself badly. You are beautiful, intelligent and funny. You look after me as best you can. You are loved to everyone. I have no idea why you think you are ugly. You have a beautiful body, believe me, I'm fucking damn with it. I get angry when other guys look at you because I'm so damn possessive about you that sometimes it hurts. I don't want anyone else to have access to you because I want you all to myself. Your ass, fuck I love it. I know you get nervous when I touch it, but it's beautiful and I can't resist doing it. I love you all the way from head to toe. You are so right that there will be a girl prettier than you, smarter than you. Of course, there are people who are "more" than us. You are perfect for me, the best in every inch. I like you, damn, there wouldn't be a day when I had enough of you. I love you and if your complexes are caused by this fucking asshole, I hope he dies under the train" I laugh softly at the mention of my ex-boyfriend. I have no idea how it does that all doubts and shame I felt immediately pass.
We look deep into each other's eyes. I still can't describe their color. They are blue, but the way they hypnotize me makes me see more than just color in them. They are deep, honest and forgiving. Loving. He looks at me with damn devotion and I know he is everything I have always wanted.
I don't hesitate for a moment and press my burning lips to his. He kisses me slowly, completely guiding me. He pulls me closer, and I don't mind. I feel I need this relationship zone with him. I need physicality with him, only with him. I love when Henry touches my hair. When he plays with them, and now pulls them lightly, but I do not mind.
I put my arms around him and catfish his palms. The structure of his skin is not a surprise to me. It is smooth and soft, but it also has lumps that show its hard muscles.
Slowly moving and walking forward, which makes me take a few steps back, and when I feel our bed behind him he slides his hands dangerously close to my buttocks. For the first time I want him to take them in his hands. That his skin would be so close to mine.
He slides his hands under the panties I'm wearing and raises me high. I tower over him for a moment, but a second later he puts me gently on white bedding.
He spreads my hair on the pillow, as if forming something like a crown or a halo around my head. I see his beautiful eyes that sparkle with excitement, love and something that I can't yet define. His body fits my body perfectly. He kisses my neck, and when I feel my little mole lick, I feel a magical shiver running down my spine.
"You sure you want this?" he asks, and the concern in his voice embraces me. I feel these five words melting my heart. I have tears in my eyes and I try to chase them away quickly so that he doesn't get scared that he did something wrong. Something that could offend or hurt me.
I tell him I want it more than anything and he kisses me again. I feel his hands wandering over my body, which is devoted only to him. He puts his hands under my back and unbuttons my bra. He murmurs quietly when he sees my bare breasts. He kisses one of them, pinches and licks, gives me incredible pleasure that I can't describe in words. He deals with the second with exactly the same care and attention.
Henry comes back to my mouth literally for a moment, sneaks a quick kiss and goes down with his mouth. He kisses my neck and breastbone, touches my tongue with a mole between my breasts and keeps sliding down with kisses. I can feel his hands hooking the edge of my panties. He tenderly kisses every place he touches with his mouth.
He gently slides my panties off, then kisses my chest and runs his long and rough finger over my clitoris. A thrill of pleasure runs down my spine, and a moan breaks from my lips. I shiver slightly when Cavill press his finger harder. Slowly and gently slips his long finger into me. I grab his wrist and try to pull him away from my body, and Henry looks at me slightly scared.
I hold his cheeks in my hands and pull his face to mine. I put a sweet kiss on his lips, one more and one more, until they finally turn into something more passionate and more intimate.
I slide his hands into the tracksuits he is wearing and slide them down. I kick them off my feet when I can't push them on. I moan quietly surprised when I discover that he was wearing nothing but tracksuits. My hands go to his buttocks, I have no idea why I do it, but the structure of his body in this place is just as wonderful as in any other.
Henry kisses lower and starts his sweet torture again. He caresses my whole face with his mouth, kisses my neck slightly sucking the skin and licking it. I moan softly when his hands touch my buttocks and press our hips together.
I feel his dick between my thighs and sigh heavily when I feel his size. He strokes my breasts with his fingertips so gently that I almost can't feel them on my body. When he touches them more confidently, I moan softly. He is so gentle to me that I want to cry with happiness.
In my thoughts, I thank God for Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill, he's wonderful.
He kisses my nipple and then gently licks it as if he could hurt me. He does the same with the other nipple, and I scratch his head. I feel his warm hands on my stomach. Comes down with kisses lower and lower. I feel his warm breath on his thighs and hot breathless lips, which he kisses me with.
I look at him from narrowed eyes and the sight of the man I love between my thighs makes me hold my breath.
Henry holds my legs with hands so that I don't close them and moves his tongue up the hill. I squeak when he blows cool clit air and I feel dizzy. I moan softly and bite my lip. Henry licks my clitoris and moves one hand on my chest, massaging and pinching the nipple. He caresses me and massages my body.
He takes his lips from between my thighs and kisses me to breathlessness.
I roll him over and he lets me.
I kiss him all over his face and neck. He moans softly as I bite his earlobe. I feel his huge hands rubbing my back and nice warmth spreads through my body. I massage his chest and shoulders with hands, and he likes it because he quietly murmurs, pleased.
I love his body, he is so sexy and I am embarrassed by the fact that somebody like Henry just wants me.
We're kissing again, and the tension between us is almost palpable. I touch his hair, arms, stomach and thighs. I move lower his body and admire his sexy six-pack, which ends in a wonderful V. I can't hold my greedy eyes and almost devour his masculinity with his eyes. I never thought that I would look so ostentatiously at my boyfriend's penis and, what's worse, I don't feel bad about it at all.
I do not hold my hands and run my finger along the length of the penis, and he sucks in air loudly and leans on his elbows looking at me. I don't have the courage to do something more for him.
"Damn, you have to be so beautiful?" he asks, looking at me tenderly. I smile slightly at him and bend to put our lips together.
He pulls me straight to him and turns me over.
Now we're kissing like crazy.
Our hands wander around our bodies seeking even more closeness, and our eyes stare at each other with full understanding and desire. He pushes the last hard kiss and moves away from me, and I moan dissatisfied.
"We don't need it" I say. He looks at me with interest and then smiles broadly at me.
"I didn't think you would want to have a baby with me so soon" he teases me, but puts the packaging of condoms on the cabinet next to the bed.
However, he pulls out a small package from the drawer, and when I see the inscription on it, I feel like I'm blushing. He opens them and pours a small amount of gel on his fingers.
He smiles slightly at me, as if to calm me down, but I'm calm. He runs his fingers over my folds and I roll my eyes at the movement that surprises me. I moan loudly, his greedy fingers still wandering over my femininity. I feel how he pulls his hand away, and after a while the slippery finger is deep inside me, massaging the gel into my thirsty walls.
"Henry..." I moaning his name for a long time. I take the packaging from his hand and throw it on the floor, and I draw my boyfriend closer. He kisses my nose and rubs his hard penis with his hand. I feel it pressing against me and after a while it slips inside me very slowly. I moan softly and he freezes.
"Do I hurt you?" Henry asks, and the panic in his voice is almost palpable. Not wanting him to worry, I touch his arms lightly and massage them in circular motions. He kisses my forehead and moves my hips gently while I frown. "Babe..."
"I'm fine, just ..." I calm him down. "I'm uncomfortable" I explain and feel my cheeks are red. He kisses my cheek. He embraces my hips with his hands and lifts them slightly upwards to slip them under a half-folded pillow. He moves his hips slowly and I feel good this time. His huge, long dick stretching my pussy and damn it's so good.
I feel his attentive eyesight, which tests my reaction to his movements. I grab his face in my hands and place a tender kiss on his lips, which he deepens and extends his hand into my hair.
He moves his hips bolder and I moan loudly feeling the building pleasure in my body. In addition to being bolder, his movements are also faster and his lips wander my neck while his hands are literally everywhere. I stroke his back and he doesn't stop moving inside me.
I touch his face and kiss him as if possessed. I moan loudly in his mouth as he presses his hips against mine. It moves really confidently, and I feel like in heaven.
The moans come out from between my lips, I can't control them and apparently he really likes it. All my senses are crazy about this beautiful man, in whom I'm damn in love and I can't imagine my life without him.
Feeling such great pleasure, I embrace his hips with my thighs and experience completely new, deeper movements that make me tremble in his arms. I whisper his name as if only he protected me from insanity.
I never thought that sex would be such a crazy good feeling. Looking into his blue eyes, I feel the heat in my whole body that is only given to him.
We kiss like crazy teenagers who want their closeness. I embrace his hips tighter and they stick between my thighs even more.
Henry, still moving in me, leans over and whispers in my ear that I'm beautiful. I feel his hands explore every nook and cranny of my hunger for closeness to my body.
Henry tenderly kisses the top of my head and tells me he loves me. It repeats like a mantra. My body trembles uncontrollably. The feeling that fills me from head to toe is unbelievably fascinating and good.
I moan loudly when heat flows through my body and I climb up on the invisible ladder of pleasure. Orgasm hits me in the least expected moment. It takes me in arms and holds me several thousand years, after which I fall to the ground and I am in Henry's arms, who still moves his hips waiting for his moment of pleasure.
"Henry..." I moan, hammering nails into his buttocks. Henry comes for a moment after me and kisses me as if his life depended on it. My heart is beating as fast as if I have just run a marathon. But I've never felt so light in my life as at the moment.
"I never thought it can be so good" I say still laying under him. Henry still being in me turn around, and now I'm on his chest.
"Sex?" he ask, massage my butt. I nod and he's laughing. "Well it will be better each time".
"Promise?" I ask kissing him straight into lips.
"Promise" Henry murmur hugging me closely. "I don't want you to take this shit," he says, kissing my forehead. Immediately I guess he means pills that I take. " There are other methods of contraception, and this is definitely the worst. I don't want you to poison yourself".
"It's really cute that you care about me so much, but thanks to them my stomach hurts a little less during the period, so unfortunately I have to take them" I answer and he moans quietly dissatisfied. I kiss him on the lips for comfort and he definitely likes it.
Let me know what you think ❤️🖤
Tag list: @hatedyoufromhello @hnryycvll @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @wondersofdreaming @thethirstyarchive @yespolkadotkitty @onlyhenrys @avengersandlovers @supersweetstache @dangerouslovefanfic @fumbling-fanfics @laketaj24 @littlefreya @viking-raider @beautifullmelodyxx @mary-ann84 @mrsaugustwalker @speechlessxx @deactivatedyssb @fishcustardandclintbarton
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abreathofthewild ¡ 4 years ago
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Morning Showers
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Synopsis: You and Thor enjoy a morning shower together.
Words: 2269 or roundabouts
Rating/Warnings: M for mature, SMUT.  Filthy by my standards?  All below the cut.
About: Firstly, don’t @ me.  Man, I Feel Like A Woman! and Breathe are two of the best.  Secondly, I want to thank @spacelabrathor​ for giving me the go-ahead on Cowboy Thor.  Thirdly, I want to thank @peachyteabuck​ for giving me this specific idea.  I wanted to inspire myself to get writing on the actual Cowboy Thor story, I Need A Hero, and thought this might do the trick.  Went from 0 to 100 real quick, my first time writing smut so be kind.  And fourthly, thank you to all the countless people ( @helahades​ I’m looking at you) that have been so supportive and so hype about this story.  Hope this little snapshot does it for you until the full thing comes out!
“Mm, gotta get up now.  ‘s 5:45.  Gotta feed the chickens or they’ll riot.”  Your voice is muffled as you speak into Thor’s shoulder.  There have been quite a few things you’ve learned about him since that first kiss.  Like how he loves to give hugs from behind whenever the two of you are in the kitchen.  Or how he loves romanticizing the little things like having a good cup of coffee.  Or how he absolutely loves being the little spoon.  He loves being the big spoon too but he always gives a quiet hum of contentment whenever the two of you lay how you are now: him on his side, you right against his back.  Your legs are tangled; one arm is slung over his waist and the other is tucked up to his shoulder blades, your face resting somewhere near his neck.
“Fivemoreminutes,” he rumbles back and somehow the sound of his voice reverberating back to you sends chills from your head to your toes.  You wiggle your legs and then finally untangle them, trying to ignore how the wood floor is cold under your feet as you sit at the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.  The sun peeks through the curtains fluttering in the early morning breeze creating a warm invitation to start your day.  Already the roosters are crowing outside and you can hear distant animal noises coming from the pasture.  It paints such a wonderful picture.  You feel like you’re the subject of some well-loved sketch, one not done by any famous artist but one that sits on a mantle and is passed down through families.  A picture that to most would look so normal but to you feels like you’re living for the first time.
“Okay, you take your five more minutes.  I for one, need to take a shower.”  You let the words hang in the air.  They are sort of an invitation.  But Thor continues to sleep, slow even breaths emanating from his chest.  Oh, well.  You flip on the switch in the bathroom and hook your phone up to the Bluetooth speaker there.  A small upgrade you had made fairly quickly was putting speakers in almost every room of the house.  You needed your music.
Today’s lineup starts with a song that could get anyone on the dance floor.  You think you remember the singer’s name being Shania Twain.  The music subscription you use has been suggesting a whole lot more country music as of late and you absolutely do not mind.  You brush your hair out as the water warms up; it sends out great puffs of steam that completely cloud out your reflection in the mirror.  You sing quietly along with the music.
Let's go girls, come on!  I'm going out tonight, I'm feelin' alright.  Gonna let it all hang out.
As soon as you step over the edge of the tub into the warm water, you feel instantly more awake.  The steady stream over your head, shoulders, and back is invigorating.  A list forms in your head as you lather the shampoo in your hair of the things the two of you need to get done today.  The thoughts lining up in your brain are completely different than the words tumbling out of your mouth.
“Oh, oh, oh, I want to be free yeah, to feel the way I feel.  Man! I feel like a woman!”  You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t hear Thor enter the bathroom, don’t hear his sweatpants hit the floor next to your pajama shorts and tank top.  It isn’t until you hear the deep timbre of his voice join in on the lyrics that you realize he’s in the same room.  You clap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from giggling.  There is something so cute about the juxtaposition of this cowboy, this man singing along with the song.   A huge grin forms itself on your face as you part the shower curtain enough to look out at him.  He’s standing at the sink stark naked brushing his teeth.  You let your eyes wander over every part of him unashamedly. 
“See somethin’ you like darlin’?”  The implication there makes heat pool low in your belly as you nod.  You silently hold out your hand and feel fire leap through your veins when he grins and steps forward.  The shower is small and he is big but when he steps into the space with you, it makes the size differences even more obvious.  His shoulders, his chest, the sheer size of him makes it difficult to breathe.  You look up at him through water studded lashes as he gently slicks the hair back from your face.  An entirely new song has started playing and it brings a slow smile across your face.
I watch the sunlight dance across your face and I’ve never been this swept away…
I watch the sunlight dance across your face and I’ve never been this swept away…
“Figured I should probably get up too.  Don’t want to lose even five minutes with you.”  Your heart is thumping in your chest as the rising sun catches the frosted glass above the shower just right, setting his blue eyes in soft light.  And yeah, you’ve never been so swept away.  There’s no to-do list running through your head anymore.  As far as you’re concerned, there’s nothing outside of this little space.  This moment in time here with him.  You stand up on your tiptoes and lean in, getting lost in the rush as your lips meet.  It’s a slip of tongues, soft and slow then deep and hot.  He smiles against your mouth.  “Good mornin’ to you too.”  Gooseflesh rises on your body as he walks forward into you, forward until your back is against the wall.
“Can’t be in here too long,” he continues as his mouth moves from your lips to your neck.  Your pulse is racing just underneath your skin and when he sucks hard there it draws a gasp from deep in your chest.  He hums against that point and it vibrates all the way through to your core.  He hasn’t shaved in a little while after you had mentioned recently that you liked the scruff and now you were so glad you had as he kisses a trail from your neck to your sternum to your breasts.  The rough scratch of his almost-beard is heaven.  It leaves your skin feeling raw but in the best sort of way.  He pauses for a moment, his hot breath skittering across your pebbled nipple and you look at him in feign frustration.  “Maybe, I shouldn’t,” he groans, tracing one with his fingers.  You brace your hands on his broad shoulders, your breathing coming fast and erratic from just this.  Is that even possible?�� “What was it you said?”  One hand moves lower, stuttering across your wet skin, to grasp your hip.  “That’s right.  ‘The chickens will riot’.”  
'Cause I can feel you breathe.  It's washing over me.  And suddenly I'm melting into you...
You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twining in his air, and buck your hips upward, slightly arching you back.  His cock is already hard and when it slips against your thigh, you feel it twitch and Thor lets out a small grunt.  Checkmate.
“The chickens can wait.”  The movement extracts another grunt as you take his cock in your hand and run a thumb across the tip; it’s already beaded with precum and you lick your lips.  That gets an immediate reaction from him as he gives in, leans in and takes a nipple in one mouth and grasps the other in his hand.  “Shiiiit,” you hiss as he continues until you’re shaking, every nerve ending sparking with lightning.
It’s no surprise that you’re slick at the center of you and when he drops to his knees kissing as he goes, your heart skips a couple beats.  He looks up at you and as difficult as it is to breathe, you feel emotion swell behind your ribcage.  There’s lust in his eyes, his pupils blown.  But there’s a connection there you’ve never felt with anyone before.  Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as he grips one hip in his hand slings the other leg over his shoulder.  
He leans in and traces slow circles around your clit with his tongue and if it weren’t for the fact that he was supporting you, your knee would have buckled.  You card your fingers through his hair as his tongue moves from your clit to the entrance of your cunt.  You whisper his name on a keen as he picks up the pace.  There’s a distant thought that none of the men you’ve been with before knew how to eat you out like this: like they were praying, like there was nowhere else they’d rather be than to have their face between your legs.  You cant your hips forward, your thighs shaking.  You know there’s going to be a burn from his five o’clock shadow but it will be worth it.  Just like the bruises that are going to form where his hands are holding tight.  The feeling swells and trips along your bones like a livewire.  You’re a gasping mess, your hands gripping his hair, pulling at it and when your climax rips through you he’s standing already, gently bracing your legs apart and sliding into you, the breath hissing from his lips.  
It still catches you by surprise, not just the size of him but how it feels to be filled by him.  A filthy moan spills from your lips.  You squeeze around him as he utters a single drawn-out fuck before he starts moving.  It’s slow, delicious friction as he ruts into you.  The slide of his cock in your cunt is like velvet and your only option is to hold on, your arms slung around his shoulders (barely).  He adjusts, lifting you so your legs wrap around him too and despite the water streaming off the both of you it’s like you weigh nothing and then he’s moving quicker, pistoning up and in and oh god, it’s like the world has shifted off its axis because he’s hitting that spot just right.
You can already feel the second orgasm spiraling up up up and when you feel it snap everything goes blinding white, sparks skipping across your vision.  It’s hard to tell whether you’re wet from the shower or wet from the mess you’ve made around his cock.  You’re clinging to him, a ragged cry ripping from your throat as your back is molded to the shower wall.  Thor’s still going, chasing his own release and you can tell it’s not far away because already his hips are snapping an irregular rhythm and his breathing is harsh and short.  When he cums, his mouth drops open and his hand smashes into the wall next to you.  He spills his seed inside of you, each jerk of his hips pressing another crashing gasp from your lungs even when you thought there was no more air left.  The last movement of his hips as he slips out of you leaves a trail of cum hot down your thigh.  You trail your finger through it and slide it into your mouth, tasting him.
The high is fading away but as soon as you do that, a flush creeps over his face and his eyes go wide.  His nostrils are flared.  He shuts the water off and opens the shower curtain, allowing you to step passed him.  You ignore the small ring of disappointment that flares through you as you grab a towel from its hook near the door.  He takes it from you though and pauses for a moment as you turn back to look at him.  The water droplets that are still caught in his hair drip from the curling ends and land on his shoulders and run little rivers down his chest.  He’s so close again.  The smell radiating off of him is intoxicating; the scent of warm wet skin fresh from the shower mixed with musk is so undeniably male it makes your mouth water.  He reaches out to cup your face, and you lean into it with a deep breath.
I can feel the magic floating in the air.  Being with you gets me that way.
“I don’t think you’ll be needin’ that just yet,” he says on a growl and you have about .5 seconds to acclimate as he lifts you with a wolfish smile.  You let your head loll back with a laugh as he sets you on the bed and climbs over you.  There’s that look again.  It makes an entirely new feeling break across your lungs, ballooning up and out.  Love.   “The chickens can wait.”  You nod quickly.
The chickens can definitely wait.
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sweetwritertanya ¡ 5 years ago
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Happy Valentine’s Day (Jimin)
Summary: You thought you wouldn’t be able to spend Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend due to your work, but come home to find an unexpected intruder.
Warnings: SMUT, yet again. On this one, the warnings are: erotic body touching, handjobs, fingering, unprotected sex (I should really write about protection, shouldn’t I?), bathtub sex
Word Count: 3207
You felt extremely guilty when you told your boyfriend Jimin that you couldn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day with him this year. As much as you wanted to shower him with love and affection on this day, your work schedule didn’t permit it. You were working a late shift that day.
Of course, Jimin was totally understanding of that, not getting even in the slightest angry at you even though he had taken the afternoon off in advance specially for you. You could see, however, a bit of disappointment and it broke your heart.
Immensely tired and spent, you open the door to your apartment and take off your heavy coat and purse, just dropping them on the floor not even caring about picking them up. Then you hear movement from down the corridor and you freeze with panic. Someone else was in the house, but you lived alone.
Instinctively, you go and grab a pan from your kitchen and pull your phone from the pocket of your pants, slowly and silently going down the hallway to see who the intruder was, wishing to all heavens that it was just a surprise visit from your parents.
Hearing water running, you realize it was coming from the bathroom, of which the door was only leaning closed. Swallowing nervously, you throw the door open and raise the pan with shaky hands, a scream getting caught in your throat when you look around.
A fresh bouquet of roses on top of the chair you had, rose petals on the floor and floating on the warm water of the drawn bath prepared for you, steam fogging up the mirror with how hot it was inside the small room. Sitting against the edge of your bathtub, with a hand checking the temperature of the water, was Jimin. He was wearing some dark denim trousers and a red with black striped sweater, sneakers on his feet. His hair was side parted with the long fringe pulled behind his ear. He looked dazzling even in the simplest of outfits.
The moment he looked up after your sudden entrance, you stared at each other until he burst out laughing.
“Jimin?” you called, relaxing once you saw him and sighing heavily. “What the hell, you scared me, Jimin!”
“Y-You…! With a pan!...” He laughed, clinging to his stomach.
“I forgot I gave you a key, I was scared it was an intruder!” you explained, dropping the pan and your cellphone on the chair next to the beautiful roses. “What is all of this?”
Coughing and straightening up, ending his giggles, Jimin came to step in front of you and placed his two small hands on either side of your neck, angling it up so you would stare at him rather than the rest of the room.
“First of all, honey, if you think someone is in your house, you better immediately call the police. No going in with a pan to defend yourself, okay? I don’t even want to think about something happening to you” he starts, with an admonishing serious tone.
“Right, you’re right on that one, sorry. But how embarrassing would it had been to call the cops on you just now?” you point out, crossing your arms.
“Not as dangerous as you getting hurt by a real robber” he persisted, knocking his forehead with yours to get it through your head. “And secondly, this is my present for you. Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”
He smiled and tenderly covers your lips with his ones, sweeping caresses over your mouth that seemed to take the weight of the day off your shoulders. Like it was worth this one moment, wrapped around Jimin’s arms with his loving kisses leaving you breathless.
When he leans back, you regard him with affection and notice the way his thin brown eyes looked darker and the small hint of colour on his cheeks. The fact that he wanted someone with a body like yours, when he was so muscular and so intent on keeping it so, made absolutely no sense to you. And yet, here he was.
“I know you had a very long and tiring day, right? So I prepared a warm bath for my deserving girlfriend” he explained, gesturing at the filled bathtub.
“Jimin, I really didn’t need nothing! I felt so bad about having to work when you made time for me, truly, I…”
“Shush, let’s get you into the bathtub before the water grows cold” he ignored your remorseful complains.
Your stomach gave an unexpected jump and your breath hitched when you saw Jimin’s fingers starting to undo the buttons of your shirt, heart racing under the skin and a blush creeping in.
“What are you doing?” you asked. He didn’t even raise his eyes from his task.
“Undressing you” he nonchalantly responded.
“I can do that, Jimin” you made known, your fingers getting in the way of his.
“Stay put. I don’t want you to have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, I got you” he smirked and winked shamelessly at you, undoing another button of your shirt revealing your black bra underneath.
You tried to follow his wishes and just stay still, but you couldn’t help the fidgeting of your body as he kept going. The truth is that it was one thing to be naked with Jimin in the bedroom, with the only light source being the moonlight or the low energy nightstand lamp, on the few nights you had the chance to be together once your relationship got intimate. Another thing was being naked on the bright bathroom, where he could see all of the accumulated fat of your sides and back, how large your stomach was, how big you thighs were. And you recalled the light of your bathroom always making you feel worse about your body.
“Wait, Jimin mayb-” your sentence was interrupted by the connection of Jimin’s succulent lips on your exposed neck, his hands pulling your shirt off your chubby arms and leaving your torso only with the underwear. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you at the lapping of his tongue on the pulse of your neck.
“Sorry” he murmured against your skin, hands stretched and feeling your curves up and down your back and sides, loving the fullness of your flesh on his hands. “I told myself I would just undress you and nothing else, but you’re just so pretty. Can’t help it” he confessed.
Your flush grows deeper and you want to believe him, even if you don’t understand it.
He takes a deep breath and backs up, focusing again on the task at hand. You observe his focus as his fingers hook on the waist of your jeans, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. His cheeks were pink and he licked his lips when he starts pulling the jeans down your legs. There was no denying it, there was lust under his small eyes. You could see it clearly now, how even with this much light in the room his iris was growing smaller and smaller at the expanding black pupil. Maybe doing this in the bathroom was a great idea after all.
Jimin is crouching as he helps you step out of your jeans and he is doing his best to hold himself back. There was just so much flesh for him to touch, for him to squeeze and feel the softness and the weight on his hands… So much skin begging for him to kiss and cherish and mark as his. You were all beautiful curves that just screamed feminine to him, contrasting so much with the sharpness of his masculine body. The thought of your womanly body pressed against his turned him on to not limit. But for now, he needed to hold himself back and get you in the tub.
You turn around at his request, with a gyrating finger, and he undoes the hooks of your bra and pulls the straps down your arms, letting it fall to your feet. You turn back to him with your chest uncovered and you see him taking a shaky breath and swallowing. He has seen you like this before and it still stirred him up. Hesitant fingers then pull down your panties, stopping for maybe a moment too long when your curls are unclothed, but he continues and helps you out of them like he did with your trousers.
“Okay, get in the tub, honey. The water must be at ideal temperature, but let me know” he says, holding one hand up to help you enter the deep bathtub.
“I need to pull my hair up” you inform him, grabbing a hair tie from your cabinet. “I don’t like getting the ends of my hair wet when I take a bath.”
“Ah, okay. Here, let me help with that as well” he offers, taking the hair tie from you.
You smile affectionately at him as he starts gathering your hair on top of your head, with such carefulness that makes your heart ache. He is making sure he’s not pulling at any of your strands and very slowly makes a bun on top of your head, a few hairs falling out from it but you didn’t even care.
“Is it good like this?” he questions with concern.
“It’s perfect” you assure, amused.
You then take his hand and finally step in the tub. At the first step inside it feels like the water is burning your skin, but the more you get in the better it feels to have the warmth relaxing your muscles and cleaning away the sweat of a full day of work. A comfortable sighs escapes your lips once you are sited, grateful that this house had such a large bathtub that didn’t make you feel restrained.  
You are so lullabied by the calming effects of the bath that only when you hear a zip do you come back to reality and open your eyes. Your eyes widen in a pleasurable surprise as you see Jimin taking off his pants, the sweater he was wearing already on the floor. He then takes off his boxers too and you notice the already half hard erection between in legs, making you bite your bottom lip.
“Move forward a little bit, honey” he asks.
You drag yourself up a bit, giving him space as he gets in the water behind you. As he sits down, water spills from the already overflowing bathtub, taking a few of the rose petals with it. Jimin stretches his two legs on either side of you against the bathtub and wraps two arms around your plushy middle, pulling you to him. You lean your back comfortably against his chest and sigh at the sweet intimate moment between the two of you.
He keeps his arms around your waist, fingers soothing the naked skin underneath lazily, loving the feeling of your fluffy body against his. He drops a few kisses on your wet shoulders, short pecks that convey pure affection for you. It melts your heart to know he cares this much about you, that he did all of this for you. Your own hands are on top of his arms around your middle, keeping him close to you, where it felt like he belonged.
When he moves his hands and starts pouring body wash on your sponge, you giggle as you realize he wanted to wash you, already picking your arm up to start rubbing the foamy sponge against it. You look back at him to see his proud smile, thin eyes set on his hands, and you stretch your neck to kiss the underside of his jaw. His smile grows and when you move to kiss his cheek, he turns his head and steals the kiss from your lips.
Lips moved against one another and he forgo the cleaning mission in preference of kissing you firmly, running his tongue against your bottom lip to ask for entrance and twining it with yours once you allowed him in. Mouths slanting against one another hungrily, there was a new static in the air as you tried to move your torso towards him better, one of your hands moving to grab his shoulder and the other resting on his thigh. The movement makes your bum rub against his length and he hisses, breaking the kiss and looking at you with lust veiled eyes and a ragged breath.
“This… This was supposed to be just a nice bath for you, Y/N” he chokes out, red cheeks and puffy lips from the kissing.
“You say that, and yet…” the hand that was resting on his thigh moves to ever so slightly brush the fingertips on the side of his now fully hard erection. Jimin closes his eyes and sucks in a breath. “You have been like this from the moment you got in here with me.”
“I’m naked with my girlfriend in a bathtub, of course I’m like this” he states.
Your insecurities come to mind and you can’t help but ask the following.
“Even with a body like mine?” Your eyes refuse to meet his, instead fixating on a spot on his shoulder.
Jimin suddenly pulls at the back of your head and kisses you ferociously while his free hand grabs yours and wraps it around his length, pumping himself with your hand underneath his. He whines and bites down on your lips as if he is angry with you, pulling with his teeth at your bottom lip when he leans back.
“Especially with a body like yours” he stresses, stopping the movement of his hand over yours.
You feel like you are blushing from head to toe, but gain enough confidence from his words to kneel on the bathtub facing him, the water splashing out from your movements. You clasp your lips on top of his and kiss him as your hand now moves without incentive from him, making him moan into your mouth.
His hands gravitate towards your breasts that he roughly squeezes and pinches, thumbs rubbing hard against your hard nubs, making you arch your back towards his touch, a greedy need growing inside of you. One of his hands move to your wide hips and tries to pull you closer, so you are now straddling him on the bathtub, your hand still stroking him and lips still joined in a hungry wet kiss.
Then he moves his fingers down your stomach to find the place between your legs, slipping them between your folds and rubbing at the throbbing clit in circular motions underwater. Your body automatically jolts at the feeling, but soon your hips are moving on their own accord, rubbing yourself against his hand.
The bathroom seems hotter than before, heavy breaths mingling together on the small space. Jimin retrieves his fingers and stops your hand, the look he gives you as he parts yours mouths telling you everything. You just nod and allow him to guide your plushy hips until you feel the tip at your entrance, slowly but firmly sinking you into him.
You mewl at the stretch he provides, the pleasure it originates. You don’t know if it’s from the water or your own natural fluids, but he slipped in easily into your lubricated tunnel. You are holding on to the edges of the bathtub when you start to move, backing your hips up only to slam them back down on him, moaning when he meets your pace halfway and plunges deeper than expected.
Jimin had his hands on your hips, helping your movements and enjoying the sight before him. Not only did you felt incredibly warm and snug around him, sucking him deeper at every thrust, you looked magnificent as you did so. With every rise of your hips, the water around you moved and your tits would bounce, the nipples peeking out from the water every other time. Your skin was all wet, droplets falling down from your neck and wet strands of hair sticking to your skin, even around your round face. You were holding on for dear life to the bathtub, parted lips making the most lewd amazing sounds and eyes closed as you chased after your high, a flush tainting your skin. Jimin was sure he never saw you more beautiful than that before.
He cursed under his breath as he could feel himself twitch inside of you, his lower stomach burning with desire and about to burst, a feeling of overload threatening to make him fall over the edge before he wanted to.
But then your moans got louder and the movement of your hips accelerated, making him know you were close too. So he took a rougher grip on your hips and yanked his length into you in a more frenzied manner, a pace so fast that the water was cascading off the bathtub, the sounds of splashing substituting the sound of skin hitting skin.
When he took charge and pounded himself into your clutching mound, your insides collapsed and clang on to him as you convulsed with orgasmic ecstasy, a yell of pleasure stuck on your throat as your head hang back and your back arched against his chest. Your legs grew tighter against his hips but that didn’t stop him from keeping the stuttering motions until he himself groaned loudly and filled you with his warmth, cock twisting inside as it spilled his release.
Catching his breath, Jimin placed his forehead on your shoulder, both laying still against one another in the bathtub, the waves of the water calming down.  The bathtub was only about half full by now, most of the water spilled on the ground but you couldn’t bring yourself to care one bit.
“Are you okay?” Jimin asked as he leaned his head back to look at you in the eyes.
“Yeah, more thank okay, actually” you admitted, smiling shyly at him.
“How about we get you all cleaned up for reals now?” he chuckles before he kisses the corner of your mouth and reaches for the body wash once again.
What follows are innocent touches as you clean each other, deciding to take a shower instead of remaining in the bathtub. Jimin is very loving and careful as he helps you clean your back, your shoulders, your stomach and legs. You return the feeling and do the same for him, even washing his hair for him. You had never been more comfortable being completely naked next to someone else.
“Thank you, Jimin” you say as you wrap yourself in a towel after getting out of the shower.
“For what? Inundating your bathroom?” he inquires, looking at the soggy floor with guilt as he dries his hair with a towel.
“No, I don’t mind that” you smile. “For loving me.”
He stops his movements and turns seriously to you, taking your face in between his hands again.
“You don’t need to thank me for that, honey. I just love you and that is that, completely out of my control” he declares.
You smile brighter and stretch enough to reach his lips, another kiss to add to the many you two would share this special day.
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buckysdolls ¡ 4 years ago
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Chapter 5
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Fel’s POV-
“Bucky don’t walk away from me! James! James!” I shouted hot on Bucky’s heels as he walked down the hallway. Tony had F.R.I.D.A.Y call everyone into the living room for a meeting. I stopped in my tracks as Bucky had slammed the door shut before I could enter. I scoffed at his immaturity, why was he being so off with me? He had ignored my attempts to talk and wouldn’t make any eye contact with me at all. As soon as Tony summoned us I was at Bucky’s door waiting for him to come but he just carried on as if I weren’t there. In the same moment Sam appeared next to me, wide eyed and thinned lips.
“I was going to go in an annoy birdbrain. I think I’ll wait a little while.” I sighed heavy and pouted my lips.
“What’s up with him Fel?” Sam asked, we continued to walk up to the door which he opened for me letting me enter first.
“Such a gentleman!” I yelled out on purpose to capture Bucky’s attention, he scrunched up his face
“Real mature” I muttered under my breath. Sam and I continued to walk to other side of the living room slumping back in our seats.
“He’s been off with me ever since the other night at the club. He mentioned he didn’t like anyone else touching me except him. He hasn’t spoken to me since. And quite frankly its R.U.D.E” I emphasised the words ‘rude’ giving daggers to Bucky, so he knew it was aimed at him. Once again Bucky mocked me this time with an eye roll.
“He finally told you huh?” Sam said rather chipper with a big grin forming on his face as he looked at me, I responded with a puzzled look.
“Told me what Sam?” I whispered gripping onto Sam’s arm.
“How the big doofus feels about you. Or did he not mention that?” Sam quietly responded rushing the latter part of the sentence as his big grin faded his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape.
“What do you mean?” I shot up in my seat still holding onto Sam’s arm, Sam took a glance at my arms before picking it off him and placing it over his shoulder bringing me into him, I knew Bucky was observing us and Sam was doing this to annoy him. I smacked Sam’s chest as hard as I could before removing my arms and chuckling.
“Don’t aggravate him even more Sam!” I muttered trying to disguise my laughter at Sam being an idiot as Tony entered the living room.
“Due to our recent success, thanks to our wonderful Felicity and the rest of the team, I’m throwing a party tonight! Lot’s of drink, dancing and fun.”
“A Stark party is music to my ears” Natasha declared clapping her hands together. I watched as everyone cracked smiles at Tony’s announcement, except I had to work which was a bummer. I slowly raised my hand signalling I wanted to speak.
“Sweet Fel, what it is?”
“I’m afraid I have to work tonight. Friday’s are my late shifts”
“Nope, not today. I had F.R.I.D.A.Y reschedule your appointment and work commitments.”  Everyone dispersed, I watched as Bucky approached Tony asking if any missions were available. Much to my pleasure Tony declared there were non and he should go punch a gym bag if he need to release some steam. I nodded at Tony to say thank you for sorting it for me and allowing me to attend the party. I’d moved over to the sofa and flicked through my social media seeing as my workday was over, Sam jumped over the sofa and plonked himself next to me handing me a can of Cola.
“Thanks”
“No problem Fel. So, a party huh, your opportunity to get drunk and spill all your feelings to Bucky!”
I coughed at Sam’s comment spitting out the drink I had just taken a swig of.
“I am a responsible young lady Sam. One’s days of getting incredibly drunk are over” I mocked giving myself a posh accent holding my can of cola with the pinky finger extended.
“You’re going to get wasted aren’t you” Sam sighed, shaking his head as I nodded my head smiling.
“Absolutely”
“You surprise me everyday”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re full of surprises. First your talent of listening to a bunch of misfits. Secondly your impeccable skills in the gym and now you’re a secret party animal!” Sam counted each one on his fingers.
“Well, it’s not everyday you get invited to a Stark party” Sam nodded in agreement and began to mumble under his breath.
“No wonder Bucky loves you”
“What did you just say”
“What I said was… no…wonder… Bucky…” I raised my eyebrows at Sam who was rubbing his lips and speaking so slowly trying to figure out what he could say to cover up what he said. My impatient ass interrupted Sam knowing exactly what he’d said.
“You said… no wonder Bucky loves me”
“I said that!?” Sam acted surprised pointing to him and then dramatically looking over his shoulders.
“I need to take a shot” I walked away to the liquor cabinet and gasped trying to comprehend what Sam had just let slip. Inside my stomach was doing flips, it felt like fireworks were exploding. The feeling in my gut telling me there was something between Bucky and I from the moment I saw him in the doorway was right. Suddenly the cogs in my braid began to work as I realised why Bucky didn’t want me on the previous mission and then what he meant about nobody else touching me. I needed to get so drunk to be able to deal with this and have the confidence to address this if it was all true.
 Later
“Brainbird! Heads up tonight.” Sam spoke as he adjusted his bowtie catching Bucky’s attention as he slicked his hair back.
“I may… or may not… have told Fel you’re in love with her.”
Bucky closed his eyes for a second and tilting his head processing Sam’s words. “You did what?”
“I did say may not have!” Sam pointed out shaking his finger in Bucky’s face. Sam tried to adjust Bucky’s tie in an attempt to change the subject.
“You did tell her didn’t you?” Bucky asked looking down at Sam.
Sam simply nodded slowly, pursing his lips waiting for Bucky’s reaction. Bucky slapped Sam’s hand away from his tie and slumping his head in his hands
“Shit!” Bucky muttered; Sam quickly took off running from Bucky’s room.
At the Party
I sat at the bar in Stark tower, the music was pumping, the drink was flowing generously and the chatter amongst the attendees created the perfect party vibe. I was mildly tipsy and enjoying people waching. I searched the room, Nat and Banner were flirting with each other at the other end of the bar which made me incredibly happy to see them together enjoying each other’s happiness. Thor, Sam, Bucky, and Steve conversed looking deep in conversation, probably stroking their own egos discussing who was the strongest Avenger. I looked over to the elevator when my ex-boyfriend stepped out, with another man next to him. They both stood behind another man.
“Fuck!” I mumbled to myself, downing the contents of my drink, plus the person’s drink who was standing next to me at the bar. I stood up adjusting my dress, I was wearing a tight baby pink mini dress, the thin straps crossed at the back, and a side split that would ride my dress up, pulling down at the hem of my dress and composing myself I quickly slid out of shot of my ex and creeped over to the group where Bucky was.
“Darling Felicity! You look most ravishing tonight!” Thor yelled out holding out his arms clearly drunk, I gave Thor a quick smile that probably looked sarcastic, but I had not time for Thor’s flirtations. Motioning with my head and wiggling my finger at Bucky to follow me he picked up his whiskey, adjusted his blazer and excused himself from the guys following me over to the corner of the room.
“Are you done ignoring me?”
“Huh” Bucky grunted, looking as if he wanted to be with anyone except me. I huffed and knocked back the rest of Bucky’s drink. He looked confused but oddly impressed, smirking as I put the glass down and wiped my mouth.
“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend” I blurted out, pulling the most sour face as the taste of Bucky’s whiskey burned my throat.
“What if I don’t want to just pretend?”
“What?” Did I just hear that correctly? Before I could even comprehend what Bucky had said the annoying voice of my ex made the hairs on my skin stand up and crawl. I looked up at Bucky searching his eyes for hope he would go along with this plan before turning to face Xander with the fakest smile…as if I were happy to see him.
“Fel! How wonderful to know you’re alive? Dodging my calls for the past 6 months”
“Erm, yeah” I smacked my lips before snaking my arm around Bucky’s waist and settling my hand on his chest. Bucky gently squeezed me; the squeeze reassured me knowing Bucky was playing along.
“I’ve been busy Xander, there’s lots of work to be done”
“Oh yeah? I bet there’s lots of work to do … fucking all The Avengers must be pretty hard work.” Xander spat taking a flute of champagne from a tray as it walked past and smirking. His words shocked me and all I could think about was wiping that smirk off his face.
“Excuse me!” I questioned
“What did you just say to her!” Bucky questioned as he suddenly let go of me and got in Xander’s face. Xander sniggered, sizing up Bucky, knowing he stood no chance in this fight. Bucky’s protectiveness turned me on so much and made me weak, yet I knew I couldn’t allow this to cause a scene, Xander would love it if I got heat in the company.
“Bucky stand down.” I said holding Bucky’s hand pulling him back into me.
“There’s a good boy, do as your told” Xander mocked insinuating Bucky was a dog and gesturing to pat him on the head. Well… what’d ya know, Bucky was angry. Bucky stroked his beard and thinned his lips before raising his metal fist and throwing a punch at Xander, laying him out. Bucky began to climb on top of Xander ready to throw a second punch, thankfully being stopped by Steve who caught Bucky’s hand.  Woah Bucky was so hot when he was angry. My thoughts were distracted as Tony and Xander’s people arrived on the scene.
“What the hell is going on here!” Xander’s boss flipped as he looked at Xander knocked out on the floor. Bucky wiped back the hair from his face that had fallen there from his sudden movement. Stark encouraged everyone to continue enjoying themselves and that there was nothing to see here.
“Bucky! Fel! Hallway now!” Tony calmingly said trying to maintain the light-hearted mood of the party, but deep-down seething inside. We made our way out to the hallway where Tony shoved Bucky to the wall holding him by the collar of his shirt.
“Tony. It was may fault!” I yelled trying to defuse the tension between them, placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder.
“His boss is one of my business partners Barnes! You can’t go around throwing punches at the first person who say’s the slightest thing that angers you.” Tony continued to speak retreating from Bucky. I sighed in relief knowing Tony wasn’t going to harm him.
“He was Felicity’s ex-boyfriend and he accused Fel of fucking all of us. I couldn’t stand there and hear him talk shit about her!” Bucky yelled throwing his flesh fist into the wall, it reminded me of the first time I’d met him when he’d punched the countertop in anger. Bucky winced as he traced the cuts that had formed on his knuckles. Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation realising Bucky may have had a legitimate reason for his outburst.
“Fel, take Sargent Barnes home.”
“Tony I’m sorry this happened” I whimpered biting the inside of my cheek to control any tears that wanted to fall.
“You have nothing to apologise for Felicity. I’ll make sure he’s delt with accordingly. Please ensure Barnes is seen too” Tony cupped one side of my face smiling sweetly before downing his drink and heading back into the party.
 Back at the compound
The car journey home and ride up in the elevator was silent, Bucky just constantly played with his hands and wincing in pain as he pressed his cuts and bruises that started to form. I walked side by side with Bucky into the kitchen, throwing my bag on the kitchen counter watching as Bucky leaned against the countertop, his roughed-up hair hanging over face. I approached Bucky calmly, reaching for his hand to look at it. Bucky opened his legs, pulling me into his embrace. His hands settling on my hips as they did once before, his read resting on my shoulder. My thoughts returned to Bucky’s hand, I needed to get a damp cloth. I tried to leave Bucky’s grip, but he held on to me tightly refusing he hummed softly inferring that he didn’t want to let go
I chuckled sweetly “Bucky I need to get a damp cloth for your cuts, wipe the blood.” I began to run my finger through his hair which he seemed to like as an occasional moan left his lips.
“I meant what I said Felicity” His words caught me off guard. I stopped playing with the end of his hair, causing him to lift his head up and lock eyes with me.
“I know Bucky”
“I don’t want to just pretend. I don’t want to watch other men putting their filthy paws over you Fel. I can’t take this unspoken tension between us anymore.”
“Hey, Bucky all of that was fake!” Bucky’s hands cupped my cheeks, I leaned into his touch closing my eyes and smiling as I melted.
“You’re so beautiful Fel. I wish you saw you the way I see you” Bucky guided my head to rest on his forehead, our lips were inches apart, I was begging for him to kiss me, biting my lip we locked eyes once more before he placed his lips on me. The kiss started slow and delicate, my stomach exploding with butterflies. The longer we kissed the more lustful it became, Bucky had turned me around and hoisted me up on to the kitchen counter, he had one hand gripping the back of my neck whilst the other roamed up my thigh getting closer to my sweet spot. My hands were lost, gripping onto his hair as I moaned through the excitement as his kisses made its way down my neck and across my collarbone. My dress was low enough for Bucky to be able to place lustful kisses along the top of my cleavage slowly working towards my breasts. I moaned out Bucky’s name in pleasure. Suddenly, I remembered where I was. At work. I stopped Bucky from going further by lifting his head up, allowing us to catch our breath.
“Bucky, this is my workplace. I can’t do this” I sighed knowing all I wanted was Bucky and yet my responsible side took over.
“This is your home Fel.”
I jumped off the kitchen counter creating space between me and Bucky.
“I’m here because of my job. I have to be professional”
“So, what you can’t have life?”
Bucky raised his eyebrows with a smirk as he grabbed my arm pulling me back into him. I couldn’t resist that damn smirk of his.
“You’re hot when you’re angry” I said biting my lip trying to hide my smile.
“You wouldn’t have said that a few years ago if you knew me.” Bucky’s face and tone became serious as he seemed to think about his past.
“If someone spoke those words…”
I cut off Bucky by placing a kiss on his lips knowing he was getting irritated thinking about the past him. Pulling away I reassured him he didn’t have to think of that time.
“We don’t need to talk about that right now Bucky. I know that person wasn’t you. Besides, I only know this version of Bucky and he’s seems like a pretty nice guy… a few anger issues but I can work with that” We both chuckled as I tried to make light of the situation.
“I don’t know what it is Felicity but there’s something about you.”
“That you love?” I questioned, referring to Sam’s earlier slip up as I grabbed a cloth soaking it under tap.
“Hmm, I wondered when that would come up.” Bucky hugged me from behind as he let me wipe the blood away from his injured hand.
“And he calls me the birdbrain” Bucky muttered under his breath, his head snuggled into my neck, his chin resting on my shoulder.
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raspberry-arev ¡ 5 years ago
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And they were roommates! (Snowbaz fic)
My writer self is back, armed with a cringe title and a whole lot of angst. Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary folk, I bring you a second part of the only fanfic I have ever written: And there was only one bed! (full of me projecting onto Baz because I can)
Summary: Baz and Simon have been sharing a bed for quite a while now, but their relationship is not progressing at all. Who will make the next move? Can they just talk to each other like normal people? Find out for yourselves!!
Word count:  7,5k
Tags: sharing a bed, kissing, unholy amounts of angst, heartbreak, oblivious gay energy, Penny the emotion translator, eventual fluff, Baz being a tortured soul x10
BAZ
What followed was silence.
Approximately five weeks passed since the time Snow exploded at me – this time in verbal form – and demanded we keep sleeping in the same bed, for no better reason than he wants to. (Look at pretentious I am, saying “approximately” like I haven’t been counting every single night.) 
Each sunset marked the time Simon Snow would come from the bathroom, breath smelling of peppermint toothpaste, and lay down in my bed. Sometimes I wasn’t there to witness it, as I was at football practice or feeding underground, but I assumed it would always happen like that. I could see him there, waiting for me, every time I closed my eyes.
I didn’t even have the energy to call myself pathetic at this point. I was too far gone.
The issue I had with this was that we – upon previous agreement, you could say – didn’t ever talk about it. At first, that seemed ideal. Wouldn’t it be dangerous to get too close? We might as well avoid it. Not give anything we were doing a name. What an adventure,I thought like the idiot I am. We would be secret lovers that didn’t call themselves secret lovers for the safety of it.
Now, I desperately wanted something defined. Something I could name and understand.
Snow and I… were stagnant. Each night was the same as the last. He was there, and however late I came, I sunk into the strange familiarity of his arms. (I hated the way I adored him even if he was snoring next to me with his mouth open.) But there was nothing else happening – just the sleeping, as he had said before.
Was I hoping for, at the very least, weekly make out sessions? Yes. Like bloody hell I was, who do you even take me for?
Admittedly, I was hoping he would say something, too. I was hoping he would try to give me more hints at whatever he was feeling when we were together. And he did not. Night after night, he did not, and I am a coward, so I surely wasn’t about to go first. Contrary to what it looked like sometimes, I did not have suicidal tendencies.
One thing did change, and I felt like it would be only a matter of time until people got suspicious. We stopped fighting. After all, rowing all day and cuddling all night was too great a contrast. I wouldn’t be able to keep that up. All our name-calling, playing tricks and consequent bursts of anger were replaced by strange, polite indifference. Snow mostly ignored me outside our room, perhaps besides the occasional staring across a room that I reciprocated as soon as he looked away. And I attempted to ignore him, painfully aware of the weird looks Dev and Niall were exchanging when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. I dreaded the day they would start poking their noses into it.
What pissed me off then was that even when we were alone, our conversations were never more than small talk. Not more than asking about when the other was coming back as he was one foot out the door. “You’ll have to spell the bed again, I think.” Asking whether you can open or close the window. Maybe a couple of: “Sorry, am I laying on your hair?” Or: “Can you move, my arm is asleep.”
And, who could forget, talking about fucking homework.
I distinctly remember this one time when I laid down next to him and he hid his face in my shirt, arm thrown over my body. I got comfortable and pulled him closer, just a tiny bit, so I wouldn’t look too desperate for contact. As I was thinking disgustingly gentle thoughts at him, he suddenly pushed me away just a little so he could look at me from under his heavy eyelids. “Baz?” he said, his voice deeper than usual. I swallowed. “Yeah?” I whispered almost without moving my lips. I thought I knew what was going to come next, and my stomach did a flip. Nay, three flips at once.
And then he asked, “Was there homework for Greek?”
I thought I would slap him. That was the closest I came to yelling at him – I called him stupid and lazy at the very least, because of course there was, firstly, and secondly, how dare you be so ridiculously oblivious, Simon Snow? How dare you?!
He didn’t understand why I got so upset.
I didn’t care to give him lessons in taking a hint.
I tried to think of it like this: what we had was already more than I ever thought I was going to get in my life. And thinking about that usually made me smile just a little. Who would have thought, right? Tell that to my younger self and he would probably pass out. In a good way.
(Can one pass out “in a good way”?)
(Do vampires have to worry about fainting? I didn’t get around to testing that out just yet. Maybe if Snow kissed me…)
These days, I kept thinking about all that the two of us could be. About… about “together”. And I knew I must be delirious, yes, but oh Crowley, it all must’ve meant something, right? Maybe, just maybe, Simon was thinking the same things I was. Maybe neither of us was brave enough and we were just playing this charade of “casual” because we thought the other didn’t care. Maybe we were bothclueless idiots and we couldn’t take a hint.
I felt myself growing more hopeful.
I felt like with all that life was throwing at me since my early years, this would be the one good thing that happened to me. This would save me and outweigh the tragic rest. If I just took the chance.
Soon.
Soon, I would.
Maybe not today – or tonight – but when I felt the time is right. On Morgana, I would.
***
Another day. Another day just like the others, full of schoolwork, stolen glances and talking about nothing of importance.
I was gathering my things for practice, while simultaneously burning a hole in Snow’s scalp with my eyes. Why wouldn’t he just talk to me? He was usually friendly with people. But then you let him sleep in your bed and he pretends you don’t exist…
Well, actually, no. I was being unreasonable. It’s not like I knew what to talk to him about either. Nothing seemed important enough to even hassle with. I wanted to talk about the two of us, about kissing, about dates, about more, morethings than just schoolwork or who uses the bathroom.
I couldn’t stall any longer. It wasn’t like Coach would be mad at me for coming late; after all, I was one of his best players, and if all else failed, a single mention of Mother would put him back in line.
But why would I wait here? What for?
Just as I turned my back to him, he glanced at me from his bed. (The only time he used it was when he was lounging during the day.) “When are you gonna be back?” he asked me. His tone was about as intimate as a landlord’s. I fought the sinking feeling in my chest.
“Late,” I replied. I needed to hunt today.
“Ok. Bye then,” he murmured, and I closed the door behind me without a response. I had to stop in the middle of the corridor to take a few deep breaths. I was so, so annoyed with him. And with myself. What was it I even expected him to do? A dramatic declaration of unyielding affection as I was off to practice? Was I stupid?
Yes. Stupid in love. There was no use in pretending I wasn’t. I thought of Simon Snow, as I did most of my waking hours, and let the warm feeling spread throughout my body as I descended from the stairs and walked on to the school grounds.
I cared so much. And I felt so alive for it. But I was also… frustrated? Sad? Desperate? All of the above.
Was I ever going to have him? Oh, I so desperately wanted him. I missed those days when I listened more to my sense of rationality than my heart. When I could see that to keep him safe at least a bit, I had to keep away from him. And to keep myself safe, too.
Now, I wanted to battle the odds.
Fuck the odds, fuck all prophecies. I only had limited time. “Saving the world” would get in the way. Someone else would get in the way – what was the deal between him and Wellbelove now, anyway? I didn’t know! Or maybe we would both live to graduate… and he would go out into the world doing Crowley-knows-what and I would be out of chances.
I refused to let myself run out of chances. Not this time.
Stood directly in front of the changing room, a couple of lads trailing behind me, I stopped. I turned on my heel and stomped back toward the dorms, waving off all confused shouts that came after me. None of them was Coach. Not that I cared. There was something I had to do.
My legs brought me back to the Mummers House, up and up and up all those stairs. Ran to the door. Swung it open. The impulse that brought me here was buzzing in my body. What was I doing? Who knew. Not me.
Snow didn’t move from his bed in those ten minutes I was gone.
He sat up straighter, his eyes asking me tens of questions. But before his mouth could ask some too, I was looming over him.
“Get up!” I ordered.
There was a flash of wariness in his expression. He did what I asked. Slowly. I noticed his hand hovering over his hip. That bloody sword of his. Yes, Snow, get it ready, I’m fine leaving this world like this. After this.
I let go completely. Sometimes, the crashing of all the walls you built to protect yourself can sound like a single sigh escaping your lips.
I grabbed his face and kissed him. Shut my eyes as tight as I could and leaned into him, and he was burning hot, so undeniably, amazingly real. I was kissing Simon Snow and I didn’t care that I didn’t know what to do with my lips now that they made contact with his. It… it seemed easier in my head. I had never kissed anyone before this. Like whom? Who could ever be enough to replace him?
For a split second, or maybe split ten years, nothing happened. And then his lips moved against mine. Took the lead. I let him. I felt him grab a handful of my shirt and I was ready to melt, ready to burn –
Movement.
Something moved at the door.
I opened my eyes, which was precisely when his hands pushed me away so hard I almost landed on my ass. All disheveled and confused, I looked around.
And I met with two eyes opened wide, in utter disbelief.
The eyes of Penelope Bunce.
There are and never will be no words to describe the terror I felt.
Fuck. Fucking shit, I was dead. The world was positively over.
I glanced at Snow in panic, as if asking him what to do, how to handle it, how to lie, what to say, please Simon just–
It wasn’t an exchange of glances. It was me looking and him trying not to vomit, I’d say. His face was wild with emotion. I couldn’t identify it, but it wasn’t a good one. It felt like he had shattered every bone in my torso, just like that.
His head whipped around towards Bunce.
“It’s not like that at all,” he exclaimed, reaching out to her as if he was urging her not to run away.
It’s…
It was not like that. Like that. At all.
Crowley, I was a fool. I was a fool. Somebody shoot me. Burn me and put a stake through my heart. My life was over anyway.
Don’t cry. Just don’t cry, you stupid fuck, don’t cry.
Bunce was just opening her mouth to say something, but I already dashed forward. She jumped to the side with a yelp as I pushed through the door and left. And almost rolled down the stairs. And slipped onto the school grounds and I ran, I ran, I ran for the forest as fast as I could, as if I had a horde of villagers with torches behind me, which would probably be a better fate than the one that was awaiting me.
My chest was aching. As if somebody was stabbing little pieces of glass into it.
I didn’t think it would feel like that. I hadn’t thought about anything at all, period. I never would have done it if I had.
As I stumbled between the trees into the eerily dim woods, everything was screaming in my head, everything was so loud, every sight and memory so bright, but the brightest and loudest… that would be his face. The one he made after he pushed me. When he said… When he denied everything…
Suddenly, my legs gave in and I collapsed onto the ground. My chest was so tight. It hurt so much, Crowley, what was happening? It felt like my heart was actually, physically ripping in half. Could it? I might be the first person – creature– to experience it. Violent sobs came out of my throat and I was not just crying, I was screaming like an animal into my hands, and the sound was so foreign as it echoed in the misty forest that some part of me found it unlikely that I was making it.
I stayed there until dark and then hunted and cried and hunted again. And the entire time, at the back of my head, I was thinking: I didn’t know it would feel like this. I didn’t know he could break me any more than he already has.
SIMON
Days continued to come and pass, and I was mostly carrying on as usual. But I couldn’t really escape the obvious: something was very wrong with Baz.
I lived with the guy my whole teenage years, you know. He always had this air about him, like he’s something better than you and he knows it really damn well. He was posh and graceful and unbothered; I was never totally sure if it’s just an act, or a genuine, unrehearsed thing about him.
Suddenly, all of that got lost. After… well, after.
I didn’t really try to talk to him or anything. Didn’t know what I’d say. But he wouldn’t even meet my eyes when we passed each other, anyway. It felt like he was hiding inside of himself, if that makes sense. From me, or maybe from everyone. He skipped meals and afternoon tea, nobody had seen him at the pitch for weeks. He looked like a beaten dog most of the time.  Something told me it was my fault. Although that seemed impossible. He always looked like he couldn’t care less about what I said or did. I was pissing him off by just breathing, basically.
But then… The last month or so, I didn’t know what to make of him.
I didn’t know what to make of myself, either. I solved that by just doing what I liked doing and not over-analyzing why I want to do it. Case in point, sharing my roommate’s bed. As long as he was up for it… (It’s not like anything gets solved by just thinking about it until you go crazy. You gotta let things go.)
However… I caught myself way too often staring into the distance and absentmindedly touching my lips. The kiss was still pressed into them.
I… look, I really don’t understand what happened there! Or rather, I somewhere deep in my soul I did, but going down that road positively terrified me. A week ago, a bloke kissed me like it was the end of the world and then ran away. No, wait – Baz kissed me, not just “a bloke”. That was, somehow, different.
But that’s where I would have to start asking myself questions. And honestly, I didn’t have that kind of time.
Of course, then there’s the situation with… Penny just… walking in on us. Like that. I kind of wished she would tell me what was going through her head, but I also desperately prayed to never have to talk to her about it. Maybe she would spare me and we could forget about it…? Penny wouldn’t tell anybody. I knew she wouldn’t, but I… I never talked to her about the whole thing. I promised Baz I wouldn’t tell anybody about what we were doing. It’s not like we did anything, anyway, but I couldn’t even imagine the chaos that would take place if the word got out… Everyone would start assuming things and…
It’s understandable that I didn’t want that, isn’t it? As if I didn’t have enough issues to deal with.
Penny didn’t say a single word about it for a very long time. I almost got my hopes up, almost allowed myself to carry on like usual.
Until one afternoon, when we met up for a study session. As in, Penny helps me with my schoolwork and I tell her whether her essays make any sense, although they are always very well-phrased and generally perfect.
(We used to bring Agatha, too. But she didn’t really talk to us anymore, since we took our “break”. Just a fancy word for a breakup, basically.)
(Did I even miss her?)
(See, another question I wasn’t keen on answering.)
After she managed to cram some of our Political Science study material into my head…, she made a vague comment about the “last time she came to my room” being “interesting”. I could see curiosity bubbling just below the surface of her face.
Oh no, please don’t, Penny, I thought. Out loud, I said: “I really don’t know if Baz has reported you know how to get to the boy’s dorms, sorry. I hope he hasn’t.”
She gave me a look, like I see right through your bullshit.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” she assured me, “but you know I’m not talking about myself here.”
I felt my cheeks getting hot. I hunched and started picking at my uniform.
“Simon? Are you okay?”
Did I really want to tell her? I could feel she truly wanted to listen… she was Penny after all. We were a duo. A team.
“Look, I just…”
And then I spilled. Like an idiot, stuttering and getting tangled in words that had just too many syllables to be mumbled at an extremely high speed, I told her about everything. About my nightmares and the damn fire that I lied to her about out of embarrassment, about Baz’s offer to sleep in his bed, about how long it’s all been happening. I left out the kissing… I didn’t know what to say about that.
Penny was usually a pretty stable person. Not the type to get over-excited or freak out. But this time, her mouth was gaping open. She couldn’t believe her ears, and I didn’t blame her. It all sounded like a fever dream.
“So… that’s that,” I concluded and put one of my hands in my hair. “We’ve been sleeping together until… well, until that time. You know.”
“Wait,” Penny almost slammed the table. “Wait, sleeping together?!”
Sleeping…Oh god. Oh god, why can’t I talk like a normal person? “No!” I waved my hands, ears burning. “No, I mean literal sleeping. Literally!”
“Oh. That makes more sense, to be honest. Although I don’t judge…”
“Penny! For Crowley’s sake!”
She chuckled. There was a bit of silence. But then she looked at me with her kind eyes. Like she was looking at a kid. “But there was kissing?” she nudged me.
I looked away. “Only what you saw.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no…” I shook my head. My brows furrowed as I tried to think of what I wanted to say. I just knew I wanted to say something. To not give her the wrong impression. Although, I didn’t know what impression would be right. “I don’t even know… whyhe did that, you know? To be honest, at first I thought he was going to punch me.”
And then he kissed me. And he was cold and firm and grabbing my face and nothing like anything I felt before.
Penny smirked and clicked her pen.
“Not really surprising,” she assessed. “Baz seems like exactly the guy to be mean to his crush.”
“Wait, uh… Crush? You… you think he likes me like that?”
She gave me an absolutely bewildered look and leaned towards me.
“Simon! He made out with you!”
All blood started boiling inside of me. I sunk into the chair. It… yeah, it made sense, but to think of it like that was…
Was I his crush?
Was he my crush? How would I know? Like, how can I be sure?
“Simon… have the two of you talked about what happened yet?”
I just shook my head.
“I don’t want to get nosy or anything,” she pushed up her glasses, “but I think it would be better if you did. Clear communication helps a lot, you know?”
Yeah?
And what would I tell him?
I didn’t have any answers. What was I feeling? Why exactly did I like when we shared a bed? Would I kiss him again? Did I feel something for him? Did I feel something for a boy?
What did I want from him?
I buried my face in my hands. I heard Penny get up immediately and rush around the table to my side. Before she could say anything motherly and soft that would just make me hurt from the inside, I confessed to my empty hands:
“I have no idea who I am anymore.”
BAZ
I was sure this was where I would stop loving Snow.
Up until now, I would have thought that was impossible to achieve. That somebody would have to kill me in order to stop me from loving the boy… I had been wrong about plenty other things before this, it was no wonder I was wrong about this, too.
Dear Morgana, I felt ashamed of myself for how utterly shitty I was feeling.
I thought I would be… well, sad at best if I were to be rejected. I had expected it, hadn’t I? I thought I’d be quietly, promptly devastated, and then not anymore, just to stand tall and undefeated when the inevitable backlash comes.
There was no consequence for what I had done, surprisingly. But I couldn’t relish in the thought, because…
Well. As previously stated, I felt like shit.
I could not sleep. Contrary to popular belief, even undead creatures need sleep to function, and I would get four hours of shallow slumber a night at best. I was being haunted by… well, not nightmares in the traditional sense… just dreams. Bad dreams. Bad, because Snow was in them, bad, because whenever I saw him, awake or not, my chest started hurting again (which was completely of a psychological origin, yes) and I genuinely felt like crying. But I could not, not even when I woke up sore and exhausted and with an overflowing fountain behind my eyes. I could not cry, because after all, the person who caused this was my roommate. And I had my pride. To the extent that I wouldn’t let him see me break down completely.
If sharing a room with him felt impossible before, I don’t know what it was now.
Absolute hell. My personal brand of it.
I couldn’t even look at him. I couldn’t bear being in the same space as him. Golden boy. “It’s not like that.” I wasted so much of myself on him. “At all.” Not that I was worth much to begin with, but still.
I hated him. I hated him, I was hurting, I was crying my eyes out when nobody could see or hear me, I hated myself, I kept hurting and not sleeping and not eating and I wished I would just stop existing too.
It’s been a while since it’s been so bad. The way I felt.
But maybe it was for the best. Because with all the hate and hurt that was filling me, how could there ever be space for more affection?
Maybe this would really be when I broke free from him.
If I survived to see the day, that is.
***
Time seemed to happen to everybody else, but not to me. I was not even sure how on earth I was keeping up with all of my assignments. I didn’t remember finishing them or turning them in, but there they were. Guess I had been working on autopilot.
But one of these identical, bleak afternoons, something ominous happened.
First of all, it was all a fault of bad timing on my part. I was passing the dining hall when afternoon tea would be coming to an end. I realized my fault as soon as I turned into the corridor and saw my classmates slowly leave the room. Chatting in groups. Everywhere. I tensed up – I knew hewouldn’t be far, as he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to ram cherry scones into his mouth. Just the thought of him made me ache a bit…
Then I caught a glimpse of rapid movement.
Unfortunately, I looked.
And Crowley below, it was Penelope Bunce. Waving at me. I didn’t even try to look over my shoulder to see if she means somebody standing behind me... Her gleaming dark eyes were fixed on me alone.
Cold fear gripped my lungs and squeezed the air out of them. This was it. The consequences were here. Invasive questions. Possibly ridicule or threats, who knows? My mind was giving me plenty of possible catastrophic scenarios. But I couldn’t not pass her in the hall – there was nowhere else to go, besides run in the opposite direction as if my life depended on it.
What did she want?
I would ignore her. I would just walk and ignore her.
I did make an honest attempt… but Bunce caught my elbow when I was trying to squeeze through a group of younger students. My try at the “get your filthy hands off me” glare went in vain.
“Hey!” she said to me. She knew damn well how weird it was to pretend that we just casually greet each other like that, but went on anyway: “I just hoped we could talk for a minute.”
“Well,” I retorted and yanked my arm out of her grip, “I definitely didn’t.”
Bunce let air out of her nose. Not exactly like an angry bull. An exasperated bull would be more like it.
“Just keep it civil for once, will you,” she looked up at me. “It won’t take long, I promise.” And then, as if she had been reading my thoughts: “Simon’s gone to Ebb’s today, you know.”
Crowley bless the weird-ass goatherd.
I jutted out my jaw. I was still feeling very defiant, but maybe hearing her out would make her leave me alone sooner. And as much as I didn’t like to admit that, Bunce was always sensible. Slightly terrifying and intense… but yes, sensible.
“Alright?” I reached up and put my hair behind my ears. It was greasy. Bleh. When was the last time I washed it…? “Go on, then.”
“Not here. Come,” she ordered and simply started walking. Her audacity was almost impressive. The only interactions we ever had was when she was breaking up fights between myself and Snow… she was in no position to tell me what to do, and yet, there she was.
Commanding. Bossy.
I followed her because she reminded me of a part of myself I couldn’t really find and dearly missed.
After turning a few corners, she tried to open a door of a classroom, seemingly at random. The door was unlocked somehow. She let me in first.  I made sure to stand very close to the exit, in case I needed an escape route.
Once she was facing me, I made a simple gesture in the likes of “what is it”.
“Okay, so,” she started, “it’s about that time you saw me come into Mummers House.”
My hand twitched toward the door. I had to admit, she phrased it quite nicely though. As if her breaking the Watford code was a graver situation than me and Snow… No, I couldn’t even finish that thought on the inside without feeling my chest tightening. Fuck.
“What about it?”
“Well, I thought that we could just make an agreement here. Since it looks like you didn’t go and report me.” She hops onto a table and swings her legs back and forth. “I won’t talk if you won’t, that sort of thing.”
I snarled. What a sneaky little…
“Mutual blackmail? I’m touched.”
Bunce looked at me in a very strange way. “No, I didn’t mean it like that at all,” she assured me. “I can magically swear it if you want. It’s not my thing to tell, anyway. I would never.”
Tell the tale to someone who believes it, I thought to myself.
But I couldn’t really say anything out loud. This was the one person – apart from Snow – that knew what happened. Nobody else could ever know. But… but she did know already. By accident, but she knew.
Something in me was meekly calling out to her.
Say more. Please. Let me… I don’t know, let me break and spill all over the floor like broken shards of a porcelain figure. Please, could I…? Just once, could I stop holding myself together…?
Except I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t rest. The pretense was all that I had left to do in life. Always acting, always hiding, always keeping everything locked in.
“Other than that, I…” Bunce added and I kind of jumped, not really realizing she was still there and it wasn’t just me, lost in my own mind. “I wanted to ask if you’re feeling alright?”
I gave her a quick look before turning away.
“That’s honestly none of your business.” The tone of my voice was all wrong. Too fucking vulnerable. Bunce replied simply: “I know that.”
We looked at each other. Two completely different people who existed only in the background of the other’s life. But it felt like now, we were connected. However insane it sounds. Maybe we were connected by knowing I kissed Snow and got my heart broken. Maybe by more than that, whatever that “more” would be.
Bunce sighed and tapped the other end of the table with her hand. My eyes fixed at the window behind her, I approached and lightly leaned on the desk, still leaving a few feet of space between us.
“Look,” she said, looking straight ahead, “don’t get me wrong. I love Simon to bits. But the truth is, my best friend is often quite a dumbass.” Then she corrected: “Usually.”
That, I could agree with. But I said nothing. I was busy biting my tongue and refusing to look at her.
“He reacted pretty badly then.” She crossed her legs at the ankles. “But just… wait it out. Simon will come around as soon as he’s done figuring out… well, all of it. He is on a good way.”
I felt a lump rising in my throat. I swallowed. So they were talking about it? What else did the girl know? And was I even mad about it at this point?
What I was more interested in was…
“Bunce… why are you even telling me that?” I asked, giving her a puzzled look (mixed with my general despair look, I presumed).
But really. What good was it to her to tell me all of this?
Not to mention she was giving me hope. I could not afford that. Not again, not ever again.
She smiled at me. Way too kindly. It hit me all at once how odd this tête-à-tête was. “Well, Pitch, that’s simple,” she retorted. “I know that you care about Simon a lot. In your own way. That includes pushing him down the stairs from time to time.”
The corners of my mouth twitched upward.
Nothing like the memories of good, simpler times.
“And don’t get me wrong,” she suddenly continued, “but you’ve looked like absolute hell lately. That was a factor too.”
That actually made me smile for a second
“Thanks,” I told her, and when we looked at each other, she was grinning. “Pleasure,” she nodded at me, then jumped down onto the floor and formally extended an arm towards me. I rolled my eyes, but I gripped it and shook it a couple times, as if we had just concluded a business meeting. She put her hands in the pockets of her blazer and, instead of a goodbye, wished me: “Good luck out there.”
That created another crooked smile on my lips. I decided to mark this experience as less ominous than previously expected. As she turned her back to me and reached for the door handle, curiosity started growing in my mind. I couldn’t keep it all in.
“Bunce?” I called out to her.
“Yes?”
“This wasn’t… He didn’t send you to talk to me, did he?”
“No, he wouldn’t. But I figured, since I was already guiding one idiot through his love life, I might as well help another.”
SIMON
In the course of the following weeks, I had more deep emotion-related conversations with Penny than I had in my entire life before that. I mean… when it comes to feelings and relationships, she knows way more than I ever will, I think. I told her she was wise once. She laughed at me.
But basically…, I had been thinking.
And I was not ready to say anything definitively… I had no labels or anything yet, that stuff was just too confusing and I didn’t really need a label on my attraction and whatnot to function. But I settled on one thing: I so had a crush on Baz. And in a weird way, I think I had had it for a long time, but I just didn’t realize what it was.
I just kind of thought that I did not like boys, period. Because that was different. And if you were feeling that different, you would just know immediately, wouldn’t you?
Turns out that liking Baz is a very normal, right, non-dramatic feeling.
That reminds me… earlier that week, I went to see Ebb again. She was in quite a good mood that day, and she was concerned about how quiet and lost in thought I seemed. I started this vague conversation about “what if you liked someone that you maybe, uh, shouldn’t date or anything”. After a while of letting me spout absolute confused nonsense, she quietly asked: “Could this be about Natasha Pitch’s son, Simon?”
I almost choked on the stale pastry she gave me to munch on. I demanded to know how she got that so fast, and she just assured me that nobody is that obsessed with another person without a good reason. “I remember when you came to me once in your third year,” she laughed, “and talked about the boy for full two hours. That’s when I started to have an inkling.” Her eyes got misty. “You were so cute back then. And look how you’ve grown…”
My mind racing, I pushed on: “Why didn’t you talk to me about it then?” And Ebb answered with her own gentle question: “Were you ready to be talked to?”
No. No, I wasn’t, not then. And I still fully wasn’t now.
But maybe I just had to dare.
Ready or not, here I come.
***
Just like that, it was evening. Baz had quietly slipped into our room after dark and went straight to the bathroom.
I turned on the light.
Couldn’t sleep, anyway. Also, this felt like a giant déja vu.
Breathe, Simon, keep breathing…
I stood up as soon as Baz returned into the room, twisting his wet hair in a towel. How could he look so hot with wet hair? It wasn’t fair.
Baz stopped in his tracks and took everything in. Me in just my pajama bottoms standing there… the nightlight dimly lighting the room… me again, this time like he was calculating what was the catch here. Then he threw the towel over his chair (weirdly disorganized of him) and went to get to bed.
“Baz?” I spoke to him.
He twitched, as if he couldn’t decide between turning to me and ignoring me completely. But when I made a step towards him, he suddenly whipped around. I noticed the wary, hurt look in his eyes before he was able to conceal it. Crowley. I really fucked up, haven’t I?
I hated the way he was coiling up and leaning away from me, inch after inch. I didn’t know him like that. Oh please, let me fix this. All of this.
At first, I meant to just talk to him… as Penny said, open communication and all that… But being here with him, I made a quick change of plans and reached out to him. To cup his cheek in my palm. He almost turned his head away. But then, he closed his eyes and let me touch him. I wanted to erase all the tension in his face. I slid my hand to the nape of his neck, fingers brushing his wet hair, dark like the night sky outside…, and stepped closer.
Not as close as I would like, but closer.
Baz refused to look at me.
“I would tell you to get up,” I teased him lightly, “but you’re already standing, so…”
Then I tilted my head, to the side and up, just so I would reach his pursed lips.
BAZ
He was going to kill me. I didn’t want to make it so easy for him… I didn’t want to just let him waltz back into my personal space like he hadn’t made me feel the worst kind of way before this. But…
But as soon as his lips touched mine, the electric impulse brought me back to life. I felt lightheaded. He kissed me again and my lips turned soft and welcoming in a millisecond. I had no dignity. None. I kept myself from intertwining my limbs with his, from pulling at his curls. I wouldn’t give myself too easy… I wouldn’t…
Who was I kidding?
I didn’t have much of myself to give. He already had me.
SIMON
We pulled away from each other, breathing just a bit quicker than usual. Baz’s face was still difficult to read, but his eyes were wide, almost childlike. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling.
“Sorry,” I said. “It took me too long, didn’t it? Penny says that I should hire an emotion translator.”
He smirked. “She did say something along those lines, yes.”
I dropped my hand from his face and blinked about a hundred times. “Wait. Wait, since when do you two… I mean, she talked to you? Or youto heror… what?”
Baz cocked an eyebrow. “Well, Snow, I’m stealing your friends one by one. Watch out.”
Morgana help me, he could be so arrogant sometimes… I was annoyed just listening to that tone. And attracted. Somebody should explain the science behind all that.
“You’re an ass,” I pointed out.
He gave me a slow stare-down.
“Is that all you were going to say to me?” he wondered.
I felt my palms start sweating immediately.
No, I’m fine, I reminded myself. This is fine.
“Ah. Yes!” I nodded. “I, uh. I like you? If that’s not obvious by now. I didn’t really know before, but I like you a lot and… Yeah. I don’t know what we will do with that, but… Yeah.  I mean…” I stammered. “If you… Do you?”
Not smooth. Definitely the least smooth confession in the history of confessions. I should have stayed at the kissing. That’s clear communication enough, I think.
Baz looked at me without blinking. At the last two words, he gave me this absolutely confused look, as if he didn’t know what language I was speaking to him right now.
“Crowley, Snow,” he sighed. Absolutely done with me.
Then, he grabbed my shoulders and hauled me back first into a wall. Before I could even think “he’s attacking me” out of habit, he was already pressing his body into mine and kissing me like there was no tomorrow. He always kissed with intent, like the whole fate of the world depended in it.
I could do this all night. I would if he let me. I broke away only to whisper: “You are confusing the Anathema, I think.”
His cheeks turned a bit pink. “Shut up,” he snapped and went for my lips again. I turned my face away, just to tease him.
“No, but really,” I laughed. “You’ll have to be nicer to me now, won’t you?”
Baz looked me in the eyes.
His were beautiful. So damn beautiful. Like storm clouds.
“Snow…” he whispered gently.
BAZ
I couldn’t handle it. He made a stupid joke about the Anathema… and we were standing there in the soft yellow light of the night lamp and he was laughing so sweetly, he was like the damn sun, so warm and bright.
And I loved him.
I loved him so much I felt like it was going to rip me in half.
“Snow…” I managed to breathe out.
And then I felt tears rolling down my face.
He was about as startled as I was.
I immediately turned away from him and tried to breathe, but lately it was difficult for me to stop crying once I started. It was… it was all just a lot. Simon Snow came back to me. I was kissing Simon Snow just now. I didn’t deserve this, did I? I bet he didn’t mean it. I bet something would take him away from me again… and I would just be alone, completely alone again. I was so scared. Scared to be happy, because once you find that happiness – especially if it’s a person– it can be taken away from you.
“I… Baz? Did I say something? I’m sorry.” He tried to take a look at my face, but I tried just as hard to hide it.
“No,” I blurted out and looked up at the ceiling. “Crowley, no. I am sorry. What the fuck is even wrong with me…” I staggered sideways and leaned on the writing desk. I covered my eyes with one hand and pushed my fingers into my eyes, as if I could physically push the tears back.
“Hey, come on,” Snow cooed. I didn’t even have the willpower to try and fight him off when he put his arms around me. Making sure I wouldn’t start openly sobbing took all I had. “Really, did something happen?”
I tried to answer normally. But what came out was a half-sob, half-laugh, before the words began rushing out. “I just… I never thought this would happen,” I admitted. “All these years, I thought I could just never have you and… Now look at me. Crowley. Way to ruin the mood, right?” I felt like I could die.
“I didn’t… You’re not… You haven’t ruined anything,” he shook his head and rubbed my back to comfort me. But I could feel him not being sure what to do. Then he apologized: “Sorry, I’m rubbish at this, too.”
I dared to lay my forehead on his shoulder.
“We’re both pretty rubbish, I think,” I croaked. “And I’m the one making things awkward.”
“Well then, you could just push me against that wall again. Would that work?”
“Ha ha,” I said sarcastically, but then, I couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.
He brushed my hair out of my face.
I slipped my arms around his waist.
“Baz?”
“Yes?”
“Just… just wondering. How long have you liked me for, exactly?”
Funny you should ask.I lifted my head up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The answer was simple. Straightforward.
“Always.”
He looked guilty for some reason. He pressed his forehead against mine. “Sorry it took me so long, then,” he almost whispered, and I couldn’t help but smile the widest smile in… Well, in years, I think.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I think it’s okay now.”
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being-worthy ¡ 5 years ago
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The Last of Us Part II – Adding my two cents to the game
Just so we’re clear, let’s establish a few things first:
MAJOR TLOU II SPOILERS AHEAD!!
I also spoiled myself ahead because I needed to know what would happen to Joel and Ellie… and the ending as well.
I’ve played the first one. I liked how it ended and totally support the ending!
I haven’t played the 2nd part but I’m watching the playthrough on YouTube in small doses. My heart can’t take much of it at once lol (and being poor and paying of debt for a loved one is no fun because I don’t have much money to spend on myself).
Right now, I’m at the part where Joel goes with Ellie to the museum for her birthday – it’s so cute and fatherly and my heart can’t take how bittersweet this is …
The 2nd part was rushed and has some bugs that could’ve been avoided, whether you like it or not. That’s a fact and we’re here for the facts not the truth (if you want the truth join a philosophy course).
The parts with Abby are too long, more than what they should’ve been and her vengeance is 💩.
English is not being my first language but I do my best (that’s all I can do).
I’m listening to Bryan Adams and Richard Max while writing this because I’m still not over Joel…
You may voice your opinion but remember this is my space! Be respectful at all times and absolute no hate here!
The first part ended with Joel bringing an unconscious Ellie to the hospital where the last Fireflies are, she almost drowned and he had to perform CPR on her. He’s rendered unconscious too and wakes up on a hospital bed with Marlene and Ethan (the guy who hit Joel in the head with the butt of his rifle) in the room.
That’s when he starts asking where Ellie is and Marlene informs him that she’s not his problem anymore and being prepped for surgery. Here, we need to note the following things: Marlene had sworn to Ellie’s mother to protect and to keep her from harm’s way but TAKES the decision to practically sentence her to death and yeah, she gives a speech that it’s not easy for her either yada yada yada but it’s all bs. The reason why is because:
a)     making a decision refers more to the process and is something that takes time, while taking a decision is the act of deciding something that happens in an instant. Ultimately, Marlene decides for HER!! What about ‘my body, my decision’? Or in this case ‘her body, her decision’? It doesn’t matter if it’s related to an abortion or having your skull opened, the same principle should be applied!
She even says to Joel ‘because this isn’t about me. Or even her. There is no other choice here’. – Firstly, there’s always another choice! Secondly, Joel replies to her saying ‘yeah, you keep telling yourself that bullshit’ and he’s right, it’s total and utter bullshit. Even later on, when he’s carrying Ellie into the parking lot (I believe it was a parking lot), he tells her ‘that ain’t for you to decide’. Again, he’s right. It isn’t Marlene’s decision nor his but Ellie is still unconscious, so what do you want to do? Let them butcher her open? He crossed with her through half the country and ended up caring profoundly for her – she became like a daughter to him. He doesn’t have an on and off switch to turn off his feelings towards Ellie. Moreover, do tell me, if you’d like a doctor or someone else TAKE such a decision for you, instead of waiting for you to wake up and then tell you about the procedure and what this will entail. I get freaking furious whenever someone takes a decision for me or without asking me first.
b)     Neither she nor the doctor wait for Ellie to regain consciousness and since she’s unconscious, they see it as the perfect importunity to just go ahead and rummage in her brain to see if there’s something that could help them developing a vaccine or a cure.
c)     That’s another thing. They had zero guarantees, not even a 0.1 percentage of probability that they’d find something – nothing, nada, zilch. Just a hunch and maybe in an apocalyptic world for some people this might be enough but then why not wait until she wakes up and tell her ‘we don’t know for sure if your immunity will help us finding a cure or a vaccine. So that’s why we need to open your skull and see what makes you immune which ultimately, will kill you’ (in some nicer words though lol). Because they know she might not fully agree with it and they give a sh*t about what she thinks/wants and have that narrow military/cult mindset of ‘a sacrifice for the greater good’ and/or wouldn’t care either way because she’s a kid. I’m no fan of sacrificing one or a dozen people to save billions. If we can’t save them all or at least try our damn hardest, then we’re doing something terribly wrong! Also, she’s a freaking kid!! She hasn’t seen much and has her whole life ahead, doesn’t matter if it’s in the apocalypse. The thought that they’re willing to sacrifice her, a kid, without batting an eye shows me that all Fireflies are terrorists.
d)     Now to the doctor (the one with the scalpel) – according to the internet this guy was Abby’s father and his murder was why she tortured and slaughtered Joel. First things first, every doctor has to take on a Hippocratic oath. There are many different variations but they all come from an old one that states the following:
… I will apply dietetic measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice.
I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody if asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect. Similarly, I will not give to a woman an abortive remedy. In purity and holiness, I will guard my life and my art.
I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favour of such men as are engaged in this work.
Whatever houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick, remaining free of all intentional injustice, of all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves.
… If I fulfil this oath and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honoured with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely, may the opposite of all this be my lot.
The doctor doesn’t keep her from harm or injustice, he isn’t even there for her well-being, only to see how her brain ticks. So, that immense violation of his oath doesn’t make him a doctor anymore but a BUTCHER and don’t come to me with ‘but it’s the apocalypse or it’s for the greater good blah blah blah’, then how better are we compared to rapists and people who murder out of fun? If we throw our principles out of the window just because it’s the apocalypse and/or it’s for the greater good, then with all due respect we all should just go ahead and jump from a building and burn in hell.
e)     I got to the part where Joel and Ellie went to the museum for her birthday and at the end there’s a graffiti that says ‘liars’ with the fireflies’ symbol above. Even at the end, their own members saw that they Fireflies were only a bunch full of hot air and nothing else. They ended up being terrorists and forgot what they once stood and fought for.
So, taking all this into consideration - who wouldn’t have saved her? And yes, Joel saves her out of selfishness, so what? True, that he didn’t tell her the truth either, but can you resent him for this? He’d have to tell her that Marlene betrayed her, betrayed her trust and her mother’s trust in her and was willing to let her die and let her body being violated (rape is not the only way to violate someone’s body – FYI). This would have impacted Ellie’s state of mind too. She’d have ended up resenting Marlene and the Fireflies or worse. She had gone through so much already and didn’t need more on her plate. So, he spared her that betrayal and resentment.
Now let’s talk a bit more about Joel. Joel is no saint or hero but no villain either. He’s just a man who was willing to doom the whole already-damned world to protect the girl he adopted. He does what he needs in order to survive but within some reason and hasn’t lost his humanity (it’s just deeply hidden in him), he’s a person trying to survive. He tortures people - yes, but only to get information and makes sure to end them quickly afterwards. I agree that one of the main things you’ve to do during such times, is to adapt or you’ll die or worse. In the 1st part he’s rough, tough, strong, stubborn, resilient, experienced in the world he lives in and wary of strangers (just remember that scene on the highway with the stranger pretending to be hurt and Joel knew from the moment he saw him that it was a trap), someone you don’t want to mess with, etc. On the other hand, there’s this other side of him where he teaches Ellie to swim, tries to joke with her, to play the guitar, takes her to beautiful places, he takes her to a museum with dinosaurs and stuff from space, that proves he’s capable for carrying deeply for someone, in this case Ellie, and don’t get me started on the gift he gives her when they’re in the space capsule (!!), and so on. Ellie and Joel have this great dynamic. Then in the 2nd part, they made him to be so trustworthy toward a young unknown girl, tells her even their REAL names, like he literally says ‘my name’s Joel and that’s my brother Tommy. We live further down’. Dude, why don’t you just go walking around with a banner around your neck stating who you are to the whole freaking world. At some point he even said the name of their home (Jackson)!’ - WHAT THE HOLY F*CK?! He even offered her to go with them and take her to their home and give her supplies. Then, even BLINDLY and WITHOUT ANY WARINESS follows her to a place with an unknown sized group, where he and Tommy don’t know anyone - HOLY FREAKING HELL?! It’s not like it could be a trap, I mean it’s completely normal that there are many survivors camping up in the mountains in the middle of a snow blizzard, it’s the perfect season for doing that ¬¬. We’re living in times were everyone is kind to each other… I just don’t get it. This behaviour change is too radical and old habits die hard, especially ones acquired and used for decades!! That’s a big flaw from Naughty Dog regarding Joel. They portrayed him as someone stupid (sorry Joel but it’s true), sloppy, too soft, etc. He’s older and fatherlier with Ellie all fine and good, but he’d still be very cautious toward outsiders, particularly when they outnumber him!! It’s true that at some point we’ll have to be more trustworthy toward others in order to try and reestablish society or something close to it but you’d still be wary and wouldn’t take them right to your home first thing!! I had also into consideration that they were being chased by a horde of runners and clickers and their options where limited but still!
In some games the death of an important and primary character is sometimes essential. TLOU II is one of them because this was necessary for Ellie to grown and learn more about herself, the world she lives in, among others but Joel deserved way better than what he got! I feel for Tommy too, he didn’t deserve to split up with Maria or lose an eye but I believe the reason as to why he became obsessed with avenging Joel was because he already thinks he failed him in the past already, either when Sarah died, or when he joined the Fireflies and Joel wasn’t happy about it, or when they blindly trusted Abby and her friends.
Before I start with Abby, we need to establish something else first: revenge is about retaliation; justice is about restoring balance. The motive of revenge has mostly to do with expressing rage, hatred, or spite. It’s a protest or payback, and its foremost intent is to harm. And because it’s so impassioned, it’s typically disproportionate to the original injury—meaning that it usually can’t be viewed as just. The punishment may fit the crime, but it’s often an exaggerated response to another’s perceived offense. Nevertheless, I do believe that justice comes from vengeance but that type of justice only breeds more vengeance, and this is what Abby essentially does, avenge her father (even though I believe he lost his way and became unscrupulous) and ends up being capable to live with herself with little to no trouble after what she did to Joel, after repeatedly hitting him over and over and over again with a golf club, and forcing Ellie to watch the last bit. Abby and a bunch of others, who were also aware of her secretive plans, travel thousands of miles just to find Joel and brutalise him and massacre him. That scene was really brutal. But at some point both Abby and Ellie have to realise that vengeance is not the answer and if everyone keeps coming back seeking vengeance, then they’ll move around in a vicious circle until someone decides to forgive because killing like this not only hurts themselves, but also those they love and love them.
I don’t see the WLF as a whole as someone who deserves sympathy. They’re quite similar to the Fireflies who maybe at some point had noble goals (or almost) but ended up strayed from their path. They loot and kill everyone they see, no questions asked (much like the police these days in our world), even if they’re just passing by and aren’t affiliated to any group and just want to survive.
The ending of TLOU II couldn’t have been better. Ellie was happy with Dina and the baby but deep down she knew she didn’t close the chapter with Joel’s murder. Abby, and knew that at some point, she’d have to revisit that part to close it entirely. Her leaving with Tommy was the right decision, even if Dina wouldn’t/couldn’t fully understand why and I feel sad for Maria too but I strongly believe that she’ll return - whether or not Dina will wait for her is another story.
This is all I’ve to add. I’ve been sitting her for about 5+ hours writing this because I wanted to put my perspective of this masterpiece out there and show people that the game is still great.
Let me know your thoughts!!
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ariadoesntwrite ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Good Morning Westchester
So here’s the first oneshot I ever wrote that I’ was actually proud of.
prompt used: my best friend dragged me to a party some of the senior football players are throwing and it’s really boring and the only interesting thing is the boy playing beer pong on the patio
Words: 1631
Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in life and death and existence and all that. Maybe there's meaning somewhere out there, or maybe there's not. Maybe the people out there doing yoga at mountainside resorts seeking enlightenment are just fooling themselves and others, wasting their time and money chasing something unattainable.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in THIS FLIPPING PARTY FULL OF HUMANS. HUMANS, I TELL YE.
"Hi, I'm Bill Hearst, and this is my colleague, Tyler Josef."
I pasted a well-practiced smile on my face and tuned the oh-so familiar voice out.
Presenting, the reason why. That's my best friend, we've known each other since diapers. Comes from money, but is actually pretty down-to-earth. Though the line starts to blur between eccentric and just plain nuts.
A goth chick looked me up and down. My pastel dress and matching earrings... and nails... and shoes... and purse... probably don't exactly scream 'Tyler'.
"Uh. Nice to meet you both."
I did my best to smile, but I really don't want to be here. I'd rather be reading. Maybe I can hide in the bathroom?
I banished the thought. Who knows what kind of germs are in there.
By the time I fully returned to the real world, the goth girl had left.
I poked Bill on the arm and frowned.
"Why do you always do this?"
"Because it's fun." Bill grinned at me. "I'm still waiting for the first person to question if that's your real name. Besides, gender blender names are all the rage with white suburban soccer moms now. Blake, Spencer, Ryan, Jackson, Connor, Alexander..."
I crossed my arms and waited for him to finish, but he kept going. "Why do you KNOW this?"
Bill shrugged. "Because I google random stuff instead of studying. Noah, Mason, Kyle, Levi, Maxwell, Evan, Oliver, Sebastian..."
I put my hand up to stop him. "Okay, well, Sebastian is a horrible name to give your child, no matter what gender they are."
Bill swung around me and leaned against the wall.
"First of all, Michael, that's offensive to Sebastians everywhere. Secondly, who doesn't want to share a name with a crab?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or was it a lobster?"
Some drunk girl came out of nowhere, running into the wall right next to me.
"Ariiiiana Graaande? Isss that yooouu?" She slurred, reaching out at me a little too enthusiastically for my liking.
I could hear Bill snickering on my other side.
I took a step back, eyes wide. "Very much no."
"Oh." She looked disappointed, then wandered off in a haze.
I shook my head and looked around at the few people milling about.
"This place is so dead. Aren't teen parties supposed to be all, all night rages and burning down houses?"
Bill adjusted his vest and gave me a funny look.
"Don't believe everything you hear. Maybe we should get you somewhere less flammable."
I sighed and leaned against the wall, rolling my shoulders back.
"Is it too much to ask—"
Bill shook his head slightly, cutting me off.
"I am an extrovert, Phineas Taylor, and this may be hard for you to understand, but if I don't get human interaction, I can and will die." He stared at me with complete seriousness.
I furrowed my brows. "...Uh huh."
Bill sighed and tugged at the cuff of his sleeve. "They have a patio? But you have to promise you won't throw yourself into the pool or something crazy like that."
I leaned forward and shook his hand with a little too much enthusiasm. "Deal. Besides, you're more likely to do that than I am."
We weaved around two people arguing about something that had to do with the budget of the student government. I don't understand how people get so invested in this stuff, but okay.
I closed my eyes and leaned out over the balcony as we stepped into the fresh air. "Ah, peace and qu—"
"THIS IS NOT LIKE WII POOL AT ALL!" A high-pitched, but still decidedly male voice yelled.
I raised my head and stared out over the balcony like I was looking into a camera on The Office.
Bill laughed at my disgruntled expression. "You're the only who was complaining about it being boring a few minutes ago!"
"Well, I didn't mean... this!" I whisper-shouted and gestured over to a table surrounded by loud teenage boys. Are there any other kind?
Bill elbowed me. "That would be beer pong, my young sheltered friend."
I rolled my eyes.
"Never mind, that's it. Sorry, but I'm jumping in the—" I was about to head down the stairs of the balcony when something caught my eye. Blonde curly hair, greenish eyes (as far as I can tell from here), and a dazzling smile.
Oh no, he's hot.
I was probably staring for ten minutes straight.
"If you're really bored, we can head out." Bill's voice startled me and jolted me out of my thoughts.
"I, uh, wuh?" I stuttered, pulling my eyes away and trying to appear unfazed. "I mean, nah, I can stay."
Bill saw right through that.
"Finally found something that piqued your interest, eh? Or someone?"
He followed my gaze over to where Blondie was receiving instructions from a slightly confused redhead. "Aha." He pushed off the balcony and started walking over to them.
I eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you going, Liam?"
"WOO! AND THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE, SON!" Blondie pumped his fists into his air and danced around in a small circle, whacking his hip against the table in the process. "Ow!"
Bill waved me off. "Don't you trust me?"
Red rolled his eyes. "I'm a year older than—"
Blondie grabbed his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Shut up and eat in the moment."
I blinked a few times. "...no? Not really? Willy-Billy, you get back here or I'm going to call you even more embarrassing nicknames for the rest of your life—" I looked to my left and my right, then inched closer.
Red reached up and slowly pushed Blondie's hands off his arms. "It's 'drink in the moment', Race."
Blondie shrugged, seemingly undeterred. "I've heard it both ways."
Red pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No you haven't."
Bill finally reached the table, grabbing Blondie and Red's attention. I'm too far away to hear what's being said over the general noise. What the heck does he think he's—
Blondie looked over at me and we made eye contact. I felt my face flush as he grinned at me.
Wait just a clock tick, is he moving towards me?
Wait, no, what do I do? What do I say? 'Hi, I want your babies'? Absolutely not. Not that. It's probably too late to run and pretend like I didn't see him, but I'm just standing here frozen. At least I know I won't pass out because you have to have a drop in your blood pressure to faint, and mine has definitely risen. That's not helpful, me! I don't need your useless paramedical facts!
Blondie shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached me.
"So, Halo, right?" Even his voice is drop dead gorgeous, if that makes any sense.
"Guh?" I blinked dumbly.
The only good thing about me currently being rooted to the spot is, I don't think I'm going to fall over at least?
"Your friend said that was your name, Halo, like the angel..." He gestured above his head with a small smile.
...Bill, I am going to murder you.
I scoffed in disbelief and shook my head.
"Yeah, not exactly. He never calls me by my real name, though. I should be glad it wasn't anything embarrassing like 'Princess'." I unconsciously picked at the skin at the edges of my fingernails.
Blondie smiled and leaned forward.
"Eh, I get that. I don't go by my real name, either. Everyone calls me Race. Pleasure to meet you."
You know what? He looks like a male version of Rapunzel. Be still, my heart.
I reminded myself to keep breathing. I tried to lean against the balcony and, I dunno, look cool I guess, but I missed and almost fell over.
I felt my heart leap into my throat as I frantically regained my balance.
"Bwuh— I mean, you too. I mean, me too. I mean, the pleasure is all mine and... Is that short for Eraser?"
Race glanced down and snorted, smirking. "That's a new one. No, it's Racetrack. Racetrack Higgins." He took my hand, lips brushing against my knuckles.
Wow. I'm an idiot. Also, I can feel my whole face going red. Error 404 gateway timeout—
"Oh. Sorry." I clenched and unclenched my free hand in an effort to release tension any way I could.
"You can call me anything you want, doll. Oh, speaking of which," He pressed a slip of paper into my palm and winked. "Call me sometime, hm?"
Have you ever seen someone so beautiful you just started crying? I know it sounds weird, but this one time—
I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one side to the other. "Yeah, um, I will."
"Cool." Blondie– I mean Race– did finger guns at me. "See you around." He headed back in Red's direction.
I smiled, awestruck, then turned and walked away in a bit of a daze. What just happened?
I walked right into Bill.
"Yo, Eminem. What can I say except you're welcome?" He did ridiculous jazz hands, which made me laugh despite everything else.
"Shut up, Billiam. But thanks, I guess." I glanced down at my hand, still smiling. Maybe this whole 'socializing with other human beings' thing wasn't completely awful and pointless after all.
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youngmistressofchopchop ¡ 5 years ago
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Come Again?
Yet another boring evening. My classes are boring, my instructors are boring, my mornings are boring. All I seem to live for these days is the time I spend with my closest undead friend, Deka. Even when studying for exams or simply just reviewing material, Deka is right beside me.
The harsh nagging whisper of depression had been desperately nipping at my thoughts for weeks now. It was nearing the end of the semester and I wasn't sure what that means for Deka and I. Him and I have been doing almost nothing but spending time together since the first day he rescued me from the barge of people that nearly trampled me.
Two nerve racking issues arise from the inevitable end of the semester. Firstly, I have to muster up the courage to admit my feelings to the skeleton ive come to know. While secondly, Deka and I need to discuss how we will communicate and continue to connect over the coming summer. There is no way him and I can simply text or call. Not only because Deka can't operate a phone, but im not certain there is a phone plan in the real world or the human workd that covers calls over that long of a distance. Visiting could be difficult if not impossible. The thought frustrates me so I push it aside, deciding to tackle the simpler problem first.
I knew that confessing my feelings to Deka was going to be unbearably difficult, but I have to tell Deka. My mother warned me not to fall in love with a monster like her mother and her sister did, but when I think of Deka I cant help but question what is so dangerous about monsters. I have met so many this year and befriended a few, not to mention my admiration of Deka that has blossomed. How could any monster..how could Deka, possibly be harmful? A sudden memory of his fuchsia hued eyes flashes into my mind making me blush and smile. I hide my burning face behind my binder quickening my pace. No, Deka wouldn't do anything to harm anyone, especially me.
If Deka doesn't feel the same he surely wouldn't be hateful. He wouldn't laugh or turn me away scornfully. This is Deka we are referring to! Before I can worry myself any further, Im met by his door. I reach up and turn the knob, locked. A slow panic bubbles up within my chest. He never locks his door! Thoughts race as my mind unearths the most heartwrenching possibilities. Did someone find his book? Did someone take to punish him for thinking so freely? Or, to quote Deka himself; has someone found him not profitable?
My eyes burn with anger. Perhaps its the anxiety of telling him my feelings that caused me to be so quick to panic, but the simple threat of these things being very real possibilities anger me to my core. How could anyone think his life is unworthy sinply because he is a Created and not a Born creature! I care about him! Why can't they see?? Why cant they care about him as well?? As Im surely hyperventilating, I barley notice the small gentle tap on my shoulder. I had been so lost in my own fears that I almost missed it. I turn around and am met with blue glowing orbs of concern. Its Deka, he's radiating the feeling of worry.
"Deka! I-Im sorry. I didnt realize you were still in class.." embarrassment washes over me.
He motions to my eyes, running his fingers down his cheek bones to mime tears to ask me why I am crying. I feel my face, its hot and damp. I had no clue I had been this upset.
"Oh! I was...I..." my face contorts into a tight child like frown as I try to hold it all in. I fail miserably as I burst into tears. I explaining my anxieties to Deka. Im sure he was having a hard time understanding as I was balling.
Deka simply stood infront of me holding my hands in his boney ones. His eyes were blue and I could feel his compassion. After a long episode of my rambling, Deka releases my hands, pulling his notepad and pencil from his cloths. With skill derived from repetition, he begins to scrawl on the page in his messy hand writing.
"You really should think more rationally. Im fine, please worry about yourself, dear." His eyes are still a baby blue. My cheeks warm up as I reread the word darling. Thats new. He's clearly worried about me, I begin to feel silly. I cant help but smile a bit, the small smile turns into laughter. How silly this all is.
"Ive been so anxious about telling you how I feel, that I must've become overly paranoid!" Deka's eyes burn fuchsia as he quickly and more clumsily than usual, writes down on a second page.
"Come again?" He points to the paper tapping it for emphasis.
Now its my turn to glow pink. The heat in my cheeks causes me to cover them with my hands. I look down nervously before speaking out abruptly.
"I think of you alot...I think I like you alot, alot more than just a friend."
For the first time since ive know him, the black caverns that make up his eye sockets are completely filled with color. So much so that his entire skull seems to illuminate his embarrassed pink hue. I giggle, he really is just so adorable at times.
Instead of writing in his note pad, he throws everything aside and takes my hand. Im suddenly pulled into Deka's embrace. He swiftly takes me to a hug using his whole body to envelop me entirely. He holds onto me firmly almost as if he thought letting me go, would cause me to disappear. Despite his lack of body heat I can sense his love and care as he holds me ose to him. The precious moment ends when Deka steps back his skull still a vibrant pin. He moves aside to retrieve his note pad.
"I feel the same way." A simple five word sentence that carries enormous meaning.
My chest relaxes as I let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness that's over with. Seeing my body relax, Deka's eyes turn green and his bones rattle. Laughter, how cheeky. I replace Deka's fresh green hue with the lovely pink one with a simple kiss on the skull. Now I laugh as the skeleton wags his finger at me while covering his face with his off hand. Together we enter his room to continue the studying we had previously planned, and I forget completely about the end of the semester.
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cannibalisticshadows ¡ 6 years ago
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can we see LTA!megamind naked??? Good ol' walking-in-on-them-naked kinda situation. give roxie an eyefull. yes. i need that please.
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Loving The Alien; Part 16; “Bare”
[Ao3]
Megamind can be quite protective, she’s quick to learn.
After the Hal Incident, he’s hardly left her side. Literally.
“I never should have left,” he said, as if he’d left her in the middle of a battlefield with nothing to defend or guard herself with. “I’m so sorry I took so long. It’s all my fault.”
“Megamind, it’s okay! I’m fine,” she chuckles, glad he’d back but feeling a little cornered from his sudden overwhelming solicitousness.
Roxanne had been too busy trying to deal with Hal to get a good look at him, when he first landed at her balcony. He’s wearing his signature spandex, tall collar and cape with the spiked leather gloves. The works. Typical uniform, and what she’s used to seeing on him. Yet, after all their “nesting” it’s a little weird, or a blast from the past, to see him dressed as the super-villain again. When he runs his hands up her arms and shoulders, checking for any injury Hal might have put on her within the two minutes he was here, she’s ready to roll her eyes.
Yet what really catches her attention now, is that Megamind stinks. Stinks like tobacco smoke and something sticky. There’s dirt smeared on part of his face, a slight scrape on his jaw. His de-gun’s in his belt.
She grabs his shoulders and holds him back, staring at him.
“What happened?”
“What?”
“Megamind, you look like you got into a fight.”
He’s silent for a few seconds. Her eyes go as wide as saucers.
“Megamind!”
“I did say I had to take care of some business,” he scratches the back of his head. “I don’t—Roxanne, I didn’t just blow stuff up as a villain. I have contacts.”
“Contacts,” she deadpans.
“In the underworld.”
She continues to stare at him.
“I don’t wanna be the bad guy anymore,” he reassures Roxanne, bending his head to hers. “But I can’t just let my—contacts—think they can run wild with my sudden ab-seens. Even you must know this city was corrupted and vile before I took charge.”
Took charge, her mind echos numbly. Took charge of what. The underworld? She shivered. In her eyes, Megamind was a big softy hiding beneath spikes, leather, and explosives. It seemed his only goal in life was just to get under Wayne’s skin, on a public scale. Yet Megamind was saying that’s not the whole picture. Good God. What else did she not know about him? Honestly she thought the majority of the smarter criminals just left a life of crime when a superhuman took charge of the city.
But Wayne’s not the only super.
“Okay, um, that’s a lot to unpack. And we’re not going to get in that right now. I’m just glad your back in one piece.”
He exhales in what she thinks is relief.
“But I’m not sweeping it under the rug.”
“Sweep what under the roog?”.
“Did you at least get what you needed? That watch?”
“Yes,” he chirps, and shows his wrist, and the complex looking wrist watch on him.
“Megamind,” she rubs her temples. He fidgets in front of her, shifting from foot to foot. “I need to uh, go out today. We need some groceries.”
The blue alien sniffs. “Makes sense.”
“Do you wanna come with me?”
He tilts his head. “To shop? For—food?”
“That and other things,” Roxanne tells him, padding into the kitchen. “Can that watch of yours really disguise you?”
“Yes!” He insists, and twists the face of the watch.
His whole body shimmers with blue light, crinkling with some electric sound. And then, Megamind is gone and is replaced with some man she’s unfamiliar with. He’s morphed into some man in a biker outfit, similar to what he wore the night his tail was removed but with leather pants instead of jeans. Black hair, sharp chiseled face, same vivid green eyes, though more human-like.
He flourished his arms out and spun around. “Do you like it?”
“I prefer your real face.”
He visibly deflated.
“Not that this isn’t incredible,” she’s quick to reassure him, hands going up in surrender. “Because it is incredible. It’s seems very—convenient.”
“It is!” He whines.
“Okay, sweetheart,” she shakes her head, coming back to him with a cup of water. Handing it to him, she twists the face of his watch like he did, until she’s starting back at the face she fell in love with. Pleased, she pats him on the chest affectionately. He raises an eyebrow at her, but guzzles down her offering in a few big gulps. “Why don’t you go pop in the shower? You stink.”
With faux offense, he gasps and says, “Miss Ritchi!”
“Go on you goof,” she smacks him on the butt, trying not to laugh. “Get clean.”
~.~.~
Roxanne has begun to notice Megamind likes to take long showers. It’s not a bad thing, but how long does he need, especially with no (long) hair? Try as she might, she can’t stop all the thoughts that drift into her mind. What was he doing in there? Standing under the water to simply enjoy it? Well, Roxanne took a shower not too long ago and was in there for a considerable amount of time, and about half an hour had already passed, so the hot water must have run out by now.
Unable to not be curious, and a little concerned as well, Roxanne mounts the stairs and comes to her bathroom door. The shower’s not running, and all she can hear is what sounds like him humming to a rock song. Smiling fondly, she opens the door a crack and sticks her head in thinking nothing of it.
”Hey, Mega—eep!”
Megamind’s stark naked.
She instantly knows because, one, she hasn’t had the privilege to see that much of his blue skin yet. His tail has grown phenomenally the past several days; she’s quick to admit it’s about a foot short of being full grown. It hangs limply as he goes about his business. Secondly, the only hair he has, besides what’s on his chin, is the happy trail on his abdomen. Said trail runs down to his bladder and groin. There’s nothing dangling between his legs; no scrotum or penis to speak of. But there are two little buds, alined beside each other in a V, similar to a penile sheath on a male dog. A slight pink bud peaks out of both. So that’s what’s holding his equipment in.
And, she can see his… feet?
He’s standing before the mirror, bent over and applying some of her eyeliner. One knee’s up against the sink cabinets, and one foot out to give himself some stability. And his toes—
What toes?
Megamind’s has exactly three… toe-like appendages, shaped into three large claws like a raptor’s. Between them is wide translucent webs. They flex against her fluffy white bathroom carpet, making the tattooed alien look quite out of place in her little, feminine bathroom. His tattoo, by the way, was an overly realistic-looking planet on his shoulder. She’s yet to ask him if it’s his home planet, but all signs point to yes.
When he looks up, she sees his face break out into mild panic. The eyeliner smears on his cheekbone and he drops the stick into the sink as he jolts upward. His hands fly to his groin. “Roxanne!”
Yelping, she yanks her head out and shuts the door. “Sorry!”
Her face is burning on a million degrees of embarrassment, for both him and herself. She never intended to get an eyeful of him in his birthday suit so early into their romantic relationship, but guiltily her inner reporter is sated… while her inner lady is absolutely mortified of interrupting his private time.
Still blushing like a bashful filly, Roxanne bolts back downstairs and decides to wait like a normal person. Or at least try to. Especially since she’s well aware what he looks like naked, now. And currently in that state, in her bathroom. It shouldn’t arouse her as much as it already does.
She doesn’t have to wait long, as the bathroom door opens and shuts again. Megamind comes out of her bedroom, dressed in his spandex. Leaning over the railing, catching her eye, he barks, “You!” To make it worse, he wags a finger at her.
“I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking!”
He harrumphs, marching down the stairs with his arms crossed. “It’s unfair.”
Her brows pinch together. Not the response she was expecting. “Unfair?”
“You saw me,” he explained quietly, almost disappointed. “In fact, you’ve seen just about everything of me!”
“Um.”
He doesn’t expand on this, but grabs his boots from the bottom of the stairs. He plops himself down on the couch, still frowning. Roxanne purses her lips, thinking over what he’s said. Was he… jealous? That she’s seen him naked and he hasn’t?
Oh.
Well then.
Finding it more than a little silly, but also charmed and flattered, she rolls her eyes and gets her own shoes. Seeing it fit to change the subject, she asks, “Did you see Minion? When you went to the Lair?”
He doesn’t answer her right away. “I… did. We’re not on speaking terms,” Megamind states flatly.
“Oh, Megamind… I’m so sorry—do you want me to talk to him or—“
“No, no! No need for that, my dear. I appreciate the sentiment but this is between us. He just—nothing.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” he waves his hand in dismissal.
“No, tell me,” Roxanne pleads softly, coming up to him with her hands coming to his shoulders. “He’s your friend.”
“He—he said why should I come there when I’ve clearly made myself at home with you.”
“He what!?“ Her temper flared to life. "Now that’s just uncalled for! He needs to understand you can make relationships that don’t involve him.”
One of his brows quirk up. “What do you mean?”
“The way I see it is he’s jealous.”
“Jealous?” He laughs like it’s absurd. “Of what?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you two have been close for a very long time with no outsiders to share the other with.” She crosses her arms. “You’ve found a friend in me and he’s having none of it.”
He hums. “I admit that sounds like a reasonable answer, but I’ve told you earlier. I have contacts. Sometimes I have to socialize, though rare as it is, and he has no problem with that. In fact, he sometimes encourages it! He encouraged me to befriend the other children in the brief time we were at shool. He just—“ he tilts his head, frowning in thought. “I think he’s afraid. For my sake. He says the bad guy doesn’t get the girl.”
She gasps. “What?” Briefly, she begins to conjure up dark thoughts, that perhaps it wasn’t Megamind complete decision to be the super villain he made himself to be. That maybe a little voice sat in the back of his head to encourage his ‘evilness’. But that couldn’t be; Minion was sweeter to her than Megamind, most of the time. Tables had turned as of late, but—the alien fish liked to offer her things to drink and always handled her carefully during her kidnappings.
Megamind shrugs, throwing his hands up. “I don’t know what’s his problem. I’m not a kid anymore; I should be able to make decisions on my own without the world telling me what I should be doing.”
Her heart skipped a beat at how mature and healthy that sounded. She actually wanted to tear up at how proud she was, and the feeling was very strong and sudden. “Of course…”
“Enough sadness. You need to smile after that horrible red-haired mahn tried to defile your honor! Now, Miss Ritchi,” he twists the face of his watch and his image shimmers until she’s looking into a Megamind-like human face. “I believe we have a date in shoop-ing!”
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christophe-delorne ¡ 6 years ago
Text
Good Dog
Chapter 8
Warnings: Excessive swearing
Pairings: Gregory x Christophe
AU: Adulthood
The bar was noises and crowded, far more than Christophe would ever feel comfortable in but his paranoia was drowned in alcohol. It wasn't unusual for him to get drunk but to do so in a public place was out of the ordinary and only because he had been coerced into it by one Kenny McCormick. The guy was convincing as hell and likely the only other person Christophe moderately tolerated. Other than Gregory. Though right now Gregory had been the deciding factor in why Christophe had ever agreed to go out and drink with Kenny in the first place, he needed to do something that he would consider a bit reckless for him to do. Kenny though, seemed all too entertained by Christophe's crass nature, maybe because the Frenchman was bluntly honest, unlike the blond's childhood friends. Both had shared the experience of death, Kenny seemed more used to that kind of thing that Christophe, not that Christophe was frightened of death by any means but or was heyo willing to dive right into it either.
"Glad to finally run off and have some fun, huh?" Kenny's voice broke through Christophe's haze, making the Frenchman turn to glare sourly at him. Kenny looked different from earlier today, looking less like a bum and more like a nine to five business man. It was not surprise, Kenny was a man who could easily blend in and that was something he used to his advantage.
"Fuck off, you just caught me at a bad time. Or a good one considering how you are." Christophe tapped the bar counter to gain the bar tender's attention and give him a refill on his drink. "And since you invited me, you're paying the bill."
Kenny placed a hand over his chest as if wounded by Christophe's words. "You expect poor lil' ol' me to pay? You're the hot shot merc with loads of cash you probably store under your mattress."
"That would require me to have a mattress in the first place."
"Right, right, I bet Gregory doesn't let his favorite lil' pet up on the furniture now does he?"
"Shut up." Christophe downed the shot, needed that burn to make him forget everything else that bothered him in his life. Like how right Kenny actually was.
Kenny laughed and clapped Christophe on the shoulder, obviously being able to read the mood the statement had put the Frenchman in, that was enough of an answer for him. "You know, you could always ditch the pompous dick and work for me. You know I treat my friends right even if they're idiots."
Christophe knew that Kenny was an honest man, far more generous and kind than he lead others to believe. A man of justice, even since he was a kid he hadn't hesitated to give his own life to bring peace to a world that didn't deserve it. Christophe couldn't share that sentiment, if anything, he needed Gregory to keep him going. No matter how much he hated the man, Christophe needed Gregory and while Gregory would never admit it, he needed Christophe as well. They were fit for each other, no matter how many girlfriends Gregory had, they were replaceable, Christophe was the one thing in Gregory's life that the seemingly impenetrable Brit that was ever stable in his life. Christophe stared down at the worn wood of the bar table, knowing that he would eventually need to go find where Gregory was staying which would likely lead to some sort of bitchfest.
"You already know that I can't fuckin' do that." Christophe pushed the tumbler away from himself, done drinking for the night. He was buzzed enough and didn't want to be completely impaired, even if he did trust Kenny, he didn't trust anyone else in this bar, or so he thought.
Just as he was about to stand up off the barstool, a hand fell on his shoulder. Instinctively he grabbed it and yanked, planning to throw the perpetrator over the bar for making the mistake of touching him, especially from behind. However, the owner of the hand seemed to have expected the motion and grabbed at the back of Christophe's hair with his free hand and giving a violent yank back, causing a hoarse cry of anger and foreign swear words to come spilling out of his mouth. His head was forced to tip back, green eyes locking onto smug, pale blue ones. It appeared Gregory had lost his patience in waiting for Christophe to return to him.
"You kept me waiting long enough, Christophe." The polite tone was deceptive as Gregory turned his head to look over at Kenny who was doing his damnedest to innocently drink the beer he ordered, pretending he wasn't there and failing. "I should have known you'd be the cause, Mr. McCormick. Though I should have guessed you'd come snooping around, I was hoping you would but not so soon." Gregory pulled upwards on Christophe's hair, making the Frenchmen swear as he was pulled to his feet.
"Well, you know me, I always do enjoy getting into the center of mischief." Kenny downed the rest of his beer before standing up, giving Christophe a look, not out of pity but almost out of understanding. "Anyways, just thought I'd show the old dirt dog some fun while he was off the leash."
"While I am thankful that he hasn't gone off and done something regrettable, I still prefer that Christophe not go off while we are in the middle of work."
"Ohoho, work you say? And what interesting things could possibly require the insistence of British upper crust and a mysterious Frenchman in Denver?"
"Likely the same reason why you're here, Mr. McCormick."
"Jeeze, Mr. McCormick, really? You make me sound like a honest, hard working man. Work is hard, but definitely not honest." He pulled out his wallet, placing down money for the bill, paying for Christophe's as well.
"I do enjoy formalities. However, I must excuse myself and Christophe, we have things to attend to and this little adventure has put us behind schedule. If we need your assistance, I will be certain to contact you." Gregory nodded briskly as if his words were the final say in the conversation. Kenny took the hint and waved them off with a sigh.
"Yeah, whatever, but just so you know, my services ain't free."
"Duly noted."
Gregory turned, still holding Christophe by his hair as he dragged the stumbling, disoriented Frenchman out of the bar. Already there was a taxi there waiting, not one of the public transports either. It appeared Gregory had hired a chauffeur to drive them around during their stay in Denver. Figures, Gregory wasn't the type to bother with a vehicle that wasn't exactly the cleanest or the nicest. That and having one or two designated drivers were preferable in this sort of mission, dedicated to serving them without being distracted by other customers. Gregory opened the back door, shoving Christophe into the backseat. It was unusual for Gregory to enter after Christophe, a sign of how upset the man was.
"You simply cannot leave like that in the middle of a mission."
"Shove it up your ass, prick." That got him a brisk slap upside his head, making Christophe turn his challenging glare at Gregory. He wasn't going to regret his decision and if anyone should apologize, it should be Gregory.
"You were rude to our host and you didn't answer my texts."
"First of all, fuck you and that cunt. Secondly... Fuck you." Maybe he had drank more than he thought, trying to remember his line of thinking was difficult, especially when he felt so pissed off with the man beside him.
"Wendyl had inside information on our target, so we need them to carry this mission out."
"What the hell even is this mission, you've told me fuck all and it's starting to get on my fuckin' nerves. Tell me what the shit is goin' on, Greg." He was used to just doing as he's told, but this, being back here so close to the worst time in his life. He wanted answers, he deserved some sort of explanation that would give him a good enough reason to stay near that he'll hole of a place. Not to mention deal with the people who were a part of it. A part of a war that he had no real stake in. A war that had changed both him and Gregory for the worst. He couldn't care less about what had happened to him, but...
Gregory sighed, running a gloved hand over his jaw, a sign of him thinking, choosing his words carefully. Which meant the blond wasn't ready to give Christophe the full details on this mission, which made him listen to Gregory's words with a grain of salt. "There have been reports of a new addictive drug on the market, one that is spreading far too quickly to be created by just some small timers." Gregory looked out the window, mulling over his thoughts and seemingly his anger had lessened. "It started showing up in Europe recently, the supply is thin, so people have begun killing each other over it. I managed to trace it back to Hall as the supplier, but I know a man like that wouldn't dirty his hands too much in drug trade, so someone must have offered him something too irresistible to pass up."
Christophe rubbed the back of his head, his scalp still sore from where Gregory had yanked on it. "So you were pulling all the information he had on the one who bought him?"
"Correct. I found out that he'd been promised a good deal of power and control in Europe in the coming years once whatever plan this organization was brewing up came to fruition. Such a promise means that the current powers would have to be cleaned out and replaced. Something that can only be done if something drastic happens. Something I intend to stop."
"Fuckin' hell. You know I hate missions that force me to do heroic things. I'm not doing it, not again."
"You don't have much of a choice in the matter, or have you forgotten you place once again?"
Christophe turned his head, avoiding Gregory's dangerous look, instead preferring to look out the window at the buildings moving past at a slow rate, it appeared they'd managed to get into afternoon rush hour. He hated being in the car, much less in traffic with a man who oozed anger while having the damnedest calm expression on his face. Even with the distraction of the conversation, Gregory hadn't forgotten Christophe's transgressions as expected. However, Christophe didn't know what to expect from the Brit, while everyone around Gregory thought of him as harmless, Gregory didn't hold back when it came to the Frenchman.
"I won't sacrifice my life again, Greg." Christophe stated firmly. "Never again. Nothing about this shitty world is worth my life for."
"Oh? Not even me?"
It was a trap question, one Christophe wouldn't fall for. He would never admit how much he cared for Gregory, though at this point he wondered if it wasn't even out of care for the man. Did he truly care about Gregory? Or was he just following routine, following the only thing he ever knew because it was familiar and safe. His entire life was chaotic and dangerous, ever changing except for one person. Once upon a time, when they were kids, he might've fancied such a notion, he had envied Gregory then. He had wanted to gain Gregory's attention, to cur favor in order to gain a reward. Eventually, that had stopped, there were no rewards, no more kindness left between them. Whatever youth that they had left had been ruined I that little mountain town in Colorado. They were adults, able to see the reality of their situation and yet unable to fix it, some wounds never did heal, on,y festered and grew into something more dangerous.
Christophe didn't respond, knowing he was only tempting Gregory's anger later. He wanted it, craved it almost, it had been so long that he wanted any kind of attention Gregory could give him. He knew it was wrong, he hated, loathed that part about him and yet he didn't want to change it. What sort of better world would be out there for him anyways? Did he even deserve anything better than this? He had done terrible things, had cursed God himself more times than he could count. So no, he deserved Gregory, deserved that sort of punishment. Christophe glanced back over to Gregory, the temptation was there, could he piss Gregory off enough to make the man forget everything else and focus on him? He would likely regret it, but the alcohol in his system had loosened his caution around the Brit.
"What makes you different from all the rest of the pieces of shit?"
Gregory seemed slightly taken aback by Christophe's statement, staring at the Frenchman as if hurt by it. Christophe hoped so, sure it was petty of him but he wasn't really in the right mindset to be reasonable and rational. It took a moment for Gregory to recover, but when he did, he moved closer, pressing close to Christophe's side. Instantly, he became aware of the touch, the subtle but elegant cologne wafting up, bringing back memories that made him feel mixed emotions. His eyelids lowered, regretting drinking, lowering his guard around Gregory was the worst mistake he could make. However he wanted to finally let his guard down, wanted to feel something that he scorned and locked away to keep himself safe. He felt warm breath on his ear, damning him to lifetime of torture that he'd reluctantly savor as his eyes closed. Words, soft softly whispered, sounding almost deceptively affection teased him for the rest of his days.
"Because I'm the only one you care about."
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frejahertziswritingthistime ¡ 6 years ago
Text
The neighbor, chapter 6
A/N: God, I’m literally over the moon with the reception of this story! It’s going to be somewhat of a slow burn, full of sexual tension and I’m so excited to show you all how this is going to advance!
Hope you’ll like it – remember, feedback feeds the writer. A reblog goes such a long way, replies, likes, and asks about my story really makes my heart soar. I hope you’ll like it!
MASTERLIST
The neighbor masterlist
Buy me a coffee!
Pairings: Mechanic/AU-ish!Dean x reader
Warnings: SEXUAL TENSION (I was sweating writing this), language
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Who, me?
 After the almost-incident on the stairs, it was like a dam had broken. Dean was constantly around, more than before, and every single word he said, was dripping with implications and every undertone was screaming sex. He wasn’t alone. I decided that two could play his stupid game, and even if I did get flustered and stuttered through half of my words, I was not backing down.
Which led me here. Standing, staring at my door, in a pair of short cut-off jean-shorts, a flannel tied up, a little gaping at the cleavage – just enough to show my black, lacy bra off – and a pair of leather boots, with my hair in a braid down my back. I was just about to reach out for the handle, when I remembered something, and smirked, turning towards the bedroom instead of going outside.
I pulled the box full of weapons out from under my bed and scanned it. Guns, guns, more guns. I grinned, as I spotted the one thing, I had been looking for – my silver knife, with the leather hilt and the holster for it. I wasn’t above playing dirty, and this was dirty – Dean had told me once, that he found it way too sexy, when girls walked around with their knife like Tomb raider – in a holster around their thigh. I was happy I didn’t forget, but at the same time, I was worried; I might make a completely fool out of myself. I sighed and quickly strapped the knife down, tightening the holster and flicking my braid, before walking confidently out of the front door, before I could regret my decision.
It was hot as Satan’s asshole outside; the Kansas heat was sweltering, and I could feel sweat collecting already. I had my entire rouse set up; a bag of potatoes in hand, the bowl of water and a pot in the other, along with a bottle of water in my back pocket. I walked quickly and confidently towards the small bench situated right next to the house, and next to Dean, who was currently working over the hood of my car. He was shirtless, and it made a familiar tingling and heat swell in me, but I ignored it, bending over the bench with a low moan, setting my stuff down.
Dean looked up quickly, looked back at the car and then shook his head, looking back at me with wide eyes. I definitely had his attention now. I smirked and him and stretched, arms above my head, and turned just a teeny bit so the silver knife glinted a little in the strong sun. I could almost hear him gulp. I had to focus on keeping the laughter at bay, when he – in his haste to take everything in – tried to rest his arm on the car but slipped and dunked his forehead against the popped hood with a groan.
I quickly pulled my water bottle out and drank a little, letting a little water spill over and slide down my neck, on to my boobs, before it disappeared under my shirt. I cocked an eyebrow at him in a silent what? And turned back to the bench, sitting down with my legs spread a little wider than necessary. Dean heaved a deep breath and adjusted himself, before clearing his throat.
“Uhm… That’s an outfit, Y/N.” I smiled at him, as I pulled my knife out of it’s holster and tore through the bag, that held the potatoes. I shrugged. “Yeah, I mean… It’s hot, so…” I bit my lip, trying to seem so damn cavalier about it all, but my heart was hammering and all I could think was please, just fuck me, please, please… Dean cleared his throat as I started peeling the potatoes with my knife, letting them plop into the bowl of water, when I had them peeled. “What exactly are you doing…?” He asked in a husky tone. I looked at him and smiled innocently.
“Oh, just peeling potatoes, D. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing a little. He shook his head and smiled. “What’s with the nickname, sweetheart?” I smiled and plopped another potato in the water, before I whipped my knife on my shorts, letting it linger around my inner-thigh for a fraction of a second – just enough for him to see. “Since your fake name is so close to your real name, I’d hate for me to mess it up. D is just way better, don’t you think?” My voice was sultry and had an undertone, I’d never thought I’d hear from myself. I was full on flirting, and judging by Dean’s reaction, it worked. He chuckled under his breath and smirked at me. “Alright, sweetheart.” He turned back to the car, focusing on the engine again. Time to up the ante.
I peeled a few more potatoes before groaning loudly and wiping my forehead for sweat, that wasn’t there, before standing up and unbuttoning my flannel. Dean looked at me, eyes comically wide, and followed my hands unbuttoning my shirt. “Wh-what are you doing, Y/N?” He asked in a husky whisper, his eyes flittering over my exposed bra. I smiled and him and cocked my head to the side, biting my lip. “It’s so damn hot out here, I can’t stand wearing long-sleeved right now. Hope you don’t mind, D.” I said, winking at him as I slipped the shirt from my shoulders. I was now standing in front of Dean, bra on display, short shorts and an empty holster on my thigh. I felt sexy. He shook his head and drew in a few ragged breaths. “N-no, it’s… Uhm… Your home too, so…” He sounded distracted. I smiled and turned around, heading back to my potatoes. It wasn’t the sexiest thing to do, peeling potatoes, but it was the best I could come up with – so far, so good. His eyes kept flicking back and forth between the engine of my car and my breasts. I smiled at him every single time, his eyes fell on me – he forced a few smiles back, but he was definitely getting distracted. Perfect.
When the last peeled potato landed in the water with a soft plop I stood up, grabbing my water bottle and sighing deeply. Last ditch effort to fuck Dean up completely. I squinted against the sun and took a sip, letting the bottle linger close to my lips for a few seconds – just long enough to grab his attention – and then, I winked at him and poured the content of the bottle over my face, letting it drench my bra and slide down my stomach. He sucked in a breath and I moaned at the cool water running down my body, before I caught his eyes. His green eyes were almost black with lust, and he followed a drop of water dripping down from my neck to my bra. I stepped closer to him, our chests almost touching and ran a hand through his beard, while maintaining eye contact.
“The beard really suits you, D.” I whispered in a sultry voice. He was leaning in, but before he got too close, I backed up, grabbed my knife from the bench and the full pot of water and potatoes, and set off to the staircase. When I reached it, I turned to look at Dean, who was staring after me with his jaw slack. I smiled. “You should close your mouth before you catch a fly, sweetheart.” I laughed out loud at his dumbfounded expression.
 A few hours later, the sun was setting, and I had managed to actually eat something – the plan had worked perfectly so far, and I was on to step 2: take Dean Winchester down. I scrambled to get to my phone and quickly plunked in Charlies number, calling her.
“You, what’s up?” She answered after the second ring. I grinned. “Step one was perfect.” I said. She laughed and whooped. “Perfect, my little padawan, you’re doing amazing. God, I love this!” She squealed. I laughed. “Alright, so what now?” She asked. I put her on speaker, as I trotted around in my apartment, gathering the skimpiest pieces of clothing, I could find. “Well, step two is going to be a make it or break it, Charlie. I don’t know if it’s going to work, if I’m being honest.” “Ooooh-kay, what’s the plan?” I sighed and threw two bras down on my bed.
“Well, I may or may not have purposefully broken my shower.” Charlie laughed. “Man, this oughta be good.” I laughed and sat down next to the bras. “So, the plan is to call him up here, tell him what’s the problem and wear the damn sexiest slash sluttiest clothing, I can.” Charlie sighed dreamily. “Would it be too much to ask for a picture?” I laughed. “Charlie!” She giggled. “Alright, sorry, sorry.” “Anyway, when he comes up, I’ll be wearing that and I’ll tell him… Oh my god, it might not even work. What if he hates bad pickup lines, or shitty porn-dialogue?” Charlie sighed. “First off, you didn’t even tell me what you were going to say. Secondly, this is Dean we’re talking about. That dude would get his dick stuck in a drain pipe, if it told him a bad pick up line.” I grinned. “Maybe. Okay, I’ll tell him that I think my pipes may need cleaning… I think they might have to get stuffed.”
Silence rang through the phone, before a loud burst of laughter came through the speaker. Charlie was hiccupping at the end. “Dude, that is fucking amazing! I wish I could be there to see that shit, honestly.” I grinned. “So, it’s a good plan?” She giggled. “Perfect plan. After that, what are you going to do?” I sighed. “I don’t know, we’ll see what happens. I’m not going to bang him, I just want to… I don’t know, fuck him over.” Charlie laughed again. “Well, you’re going to fuck him sideways to Sunday, if this plan holds up. Good luck, girl!” I grinned. “Thanks, Charlie. I’ll see you Monday!” “May the force be with you, young one!” She hung up, leaving me to handle my outfit crisis on my own.
Before I could change my mind, I quickly slipped on a new black bra, lace covering the swell of my breasts perfectly, and a pair of black, lacy underwear. I was never one for thongs, so boy-shorts it was. I pulled my flannel on over it, and quickly dialed Dean, pressing the call-button before I could forget.
“David speaking.” I smiled and put on my most sultry voice. “D, I think my shower is broken. Will you come look at it?” I could almost hear him gulp. “Sure thing. Give me a minute.” He hung up. I drew a deep, calming breath. I wasn’t here to actually get it on with Dean, I just wanted to tease him. A lot. And yeah, maybe I did want his dick in the general vicinity of my pelvis, but that was a topic for another day.
A hard knock sounded from the front door, and I shouted, “Come on in, I’ll be right out!” and the door creaked open. “Y/N?” Dean’s voice rang through the apartment. I smiled and opened the door tot eh bedroom, stepping out. Dean’s eyes racked over my body. The flannel was open and hit the top of my thighs, showing off my legs and everything I had picked out – his eyes lingered on the black panties, and I cleared my throat, happy that I could elicit such a reaction from him. He coughed awkwardly, looking back at my face. I bit my lip.
“So… Uh… Shower?” He asked, pointing to the bathroom. I nodded and followed him in, walking close to him – I could feel his body radiating heat, and fuck me, I wanted him. He had changed into a more casual outfit, a pair of gray sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, and he was carrying a tool-box, which – for some reason – made me a little hot and bothered. I love men, who can use their hands.
I stepped in front of him, and led him inside the bathroom, bending over the tub, showing off my ass, as the flannel rode up. I could hear him spluttering, but I chose to pretend to not have heard it. “So, it won’t turn on for me, D…” I said in a loud whisper, looking back over my shoulder at him. He gulped. “Alright, let me have a look.” I smiled and stepped away, leaning against the sink. “I think the pipes might need cleaning, D.” I said. His hand slipped on the edge of the tub at my words. He turned around and cleared his throat.
“What did you just say?” I smiled sweetly. “Maybe… The pipes are a little stuffed?” I bit my lip. In a flash, he was on his feet, and against me; his chest was heaving, and his eyes were darkened as he scanned my face. He had effectively trapped me in between his body, the sink and his arms. I stared defiantly up at him. “You better watch your words, sweetheart. You’re in deep fucking water.” I grinned. “Who, me, D? What are you going to do?” I leaned forward, and my lips glided over his earlobe as I whispered: “You’ll spank me?” His breath hitched, and he pulled away sharply, catching my eye. “Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart.” We were so close, our noses were touching, but I refused to back down. I pressed my chest a little up, letting him feel the swell of my breasts. “Try me.”
In a blink of an eye, his lips were on mine. It was fierce, heated, a little angry and most of all, desperate. He grunted against me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me completely flush against him, swallowing my moan and let his tongue dance against mine. His beard was both soft, but scratched me in such a tantalizing way, all I could think was I want you between my thighs, and I moaned again, letting my hands run through his hair. It was a harsh kiss, and his hand grabbed my ass tightly, making me yelp a little – it wasn’t in a bad way, and it merely made me even more horny. My legs had somehow wrapped around him, his hands supporting my weight, as we bit each other’s lips, kissed and moaned against each other.
He pulled away as quickly, as he had crashed his lips against mine, heaving and panting. He searched my face, before his eyes softened, and then widened. His voice was shaky, as he backed away.
“Fuck… I’m… I’m sorry, Y/N.” he ran out of the bathroom, leaving me a frustrated, panting and honry mess.
 My plan had backfired.
 Like this? Let me know!
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49 notes ¡ View notes
wonderlustlucas ¡ 7 years ago
Text
warmth - wong yukhei
⇢ prompt It’s like a breath of fresh air on the first day of spring, filling you to the brim with new life and you can't get enough. ⇢ pairing yukhei x female reader ⇢ word count 16k ⇢ genre fluff & slight smut ⇢ warnings oh my GOD the fluff in this killed me, resuscitated me, & then hit me with a car. if you squint really hard there is like a teaspoon of smut & implied s e x ⇢ summary Meeting NCT was definitely not something you or your best friend ever imagined would actually happen on your road to stardom, but Wong Yukhei falling for you never once crossed your mind. Lucky for you, a touch of jealousy, fifteen rounds of Fortnite, impromptu snuggling, and a splash of soju is the perfect recipe for falling in love. ⇢ a/n ok FIRST OF ALL since this is my first actual fic im posting i feel like i should warn u all & apologize for my use of italics, im a little obsessed cuz when i go over & read what ive typed i always put emphasis on specific words so ya just roll w that. secondly i tried sosososo hard to include every member but obviously some got more spotlight than others thats just how the cookie crumbled BUT I TRIED. and lastly the beginning to this is a little rough but i swear it gets better trust me on this, warmth is my bby rn & im proud cuz it gets real good as u keep reading. enjoy:)
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“Kim Mina and ___ ___, welcome! Take a seat! How are you?”
Yuna’s greeting is welcoming but it barely calms your nerves. Your grip on Mina’s hand is like iron, but you finally have to let go and give your best smile before shimmying onto the high stool. Mina starts the small talk with the two anchors and you can’t help but silently thank her. Lord knows small talk was not your thing.
Meanwhile, you glance around the large room, taking it all in—from the brightness of all the screens to the professional video cameras facing in your direction and all the way to the small crowd of fans cheering outside. How did you end up here?
“So, tell me, what started this amazing journey the two of you have gotten yourselves into?” Seojun, the second anchor, asks with a beaming grin. You look to Mina and she nods to you in approval. Deep breathe. Don’t panic.
“Well, Mina and I have been best friends, if you’d like to put it that simply, since we were freshmen,” the three chuckle at your comment, “we both shared and bonded over our love for BTS, actually, and then Seventeen, NCT, Red Velvet, and so on.”
You pause to lick your lips and take a deep gulp of air.
“We both weren’t very active nor athletic. First, we played volleyball, then lacrosse, and we even tried golf but sports just wasn’t really our thing. So, we eventually settled for a gym membership and spent a lot of time there together, and over time we really got into shape,” you stop again to laugh when Yuna reaches out to poke at Mina’s very prominent bicep muscle.
“And so one-day junior year we were jamming to, uh, I don't know,” you laugh, glancing to Mina. “BBoom BBoom,” she says, “by MOMOLAND.”
You smile to yourself at the fond memory. “Anyway, Mina randomly suggested that we should learn the full choreography and not just random parts. At first, I laughed at her ‘cause I thought there was no way either of us was bright enough to remember the full thing. But she was so serious about it that I eventually just agreed to it to humor her, and we actually learned it by ourselves.”
“It wasn’t as easy as I thought, though,” Mina interrupts, “it took a really, really long time just to get the footwork and so many times I knew ___ wanted to shoot herself for agreeing to do this,” she laughs and the three of you join her. “But once we got it, we recorded it, and we were just amazed. Like, ‘Wow, we did that! That’s us!’ and we showed everyone we knew. The sense of pride motivated us to do it again. So we did Mic Drop by BTS, and when we uploaded it on YouTube it really blew up within our school,” Mina stops and looks at you to continue.
“Our friends and family really started spreading the word about us after the fourth or fifth video we uploaded. In the meantime, a lot of kids thought we were really weird for, you know, putting ourselves out there like that. But it was just so fun to dance that we really didn’t care about both the positive or negative feedback we were getting. After all, we were only seventeen, you know. But things really started getting serious about two months ago when we uploaded Baby Don’t Stop from NCT U and CLAP from Seventeen. Someone big must have stumbled upon our account because a week later we were in the newspaper. Something about ‘arising local stars,’ I think,” you pause when Yuna shuffles through her papers to pull out the exact article you were talking about.
“Yep,” she pauses to flip through the papers, “‘___ ___ and Kim Mina: Small-town Seniors to Stardom,’ wow, so you two really caught someone’s eye,��� she comments as Seojun nods in agreement.
“So yeah, that’s basically it. We still plan to graduate high school and all, but right now we’re not sure if we want to go to college at this point. We have a steady income as of right now and hopefully, we can really make this into a career. It’s kind of our passion at this point, not just a hobby,” you finish, fixing the collar of the rather fitting romper you were wearing.
“Wow,” Seojun comments and brings his hands up to clap, “talk about an inspiring story.”
“Hopefully. We tell our followers that even if you may feel really lost in the world right now, you will find something that you’re passionate about, it’ll just take time and probably some stupid idea,” Mina concludes with a beaming smile and an arm around your neck, tugging you in close.
Yuna and Seojun coo in unison at the affectionate act and you can’t help but squeeze Mina back.
“So, we have a few more questions,” Yuna finally says after you pull away from your best friend. You sit up straighter in your seat and nod excitedly.
“This one’s easy. Who is your favorite group?” Seojun asks once he’s done flipping through the pile of note cards in his hands.
“NCT, for the both of us,” Mina replies easily, and you nod in agreement. “And do you have a bias, as I’ve heard you call it, in the group?” Yuna asks and you immediately feel the heat rush to your cheeks. It wasn’t that you’re embarrassed, you just don’t want to talk about it.
So, yeah, maybe you’re embarrassed.
“Uh-oh, ___ is red,” Seojun catches on and you squawk in embarrassment, having to hide your face from the cameras just so those watching wouldn’t be able to see you flush so badly. “Well, my bias is Taeyong,” Mina replies while soothingly patting your arm to get you to look back up.
“Yukhei,” you eventually squeak out after sitting up.
“Which choreography so far has been you’re favorite?” Yuna moves on instead of picking on your red-hot embarrassment anymore and you quietly thank the gods.
“Oh geez, I can’t choose one. CLAP, HIGHLIGHT, Burning Up, DNA, Cherry Bomb, 7th Sense, Baby Don’t Stop, Boss... all favorites. No way we could simplify it to one,” Mina laughs after naming off a few.
“Alright, last question before the surprise,” Yuna says, winking at the camera mischievously, “if you could go back in time, would you have started this journey earlier than you had?”
You glance at Mina and pause to think for a moment. Would you? Mina opens her mouth to say something but closes it again, clearly stumped by the question.
“No,” you speak up, “I think the way we did it worked out in the best way possible. It started as a joke for us, but the music we love turned it into something we’re passionate about. If we started this when we were any younger, we wouldn’t have been as mature and probably wouldn’t have gotten as much attention as we have. We would’ve looked like even more idiots to the public. It all happened for a reason, and I wouldn’t want to change it one bit, you know?” You rant, picking at your nails as you do so. Was that too much? Too little? Hopefully I didn't sound cocky.
“There you have it, folks! Wise words from eighteen-year olds ___ ___ and Kim Mina!” Seojun cheers and Yuna claps. Mina bows and you smile appreciatively. “Don’t leave just yet! After this commercial break, Mina and ___ will be performing live before the show ends! Stay tuned everybody!” Yuna finally announces and you can finally breathe again now that the cameras are off.
“Go on and get changed, kiddos. Don’t wanna miss your own performance,” Seojun smiles. “Thank you. And thank you for having us. This was amazing,” you reply, hopping off the seat and giving him and Yuna firm handshakes before storming backstage with Mina.
“You spoke so well! What the fuck? What happened to little ol’ ___ stuttering and dying when she has to present?” Mina exclaims excitedly, spinning you into a hug in the dressing room. “I don't know! I just—I have no idea! I felt so, so... proud, you know? Look how far we’ve gotten,” You speak hurriedly, peeling everything off your body.
“I know, this is crazy. I feel like I’m gonna shit myself,” Mina replies as you both unclasp each other’s bras to replace them with sports bras. “Me too. I don’t know why I’m so nervous to perform, we could do this choreo asleep, with our eyes closed, and our legs cut off,” you exaggerate, tugging up your ripped black skinny jeans and hopping around to get them up.
“With our legs cut off?” Mina laughs as she pulls up her denim shorts. “But no, I feel you. It’s because it’s live, we usually have the comfort of knowing that we can mess up without anyone knowing,” she explains as you push your arms through the sleeves of the cropped white tank you decided on.
The two of you finish getting dressed, quickly stretch, and hurry back out before you actually are late. “Good luck, don’t mess up,” Mina whispers, fixing your braids and giving your hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Thanks, asshole. You too.”
Baby Don’t Stop starts from the speakers, extremely loud but too quiet and exhilarating but soothing all at the same time. It’s a natural habit now—the way your body moves to Ten’s absolutely panty-dropping voice and Taeyong’s aggressive rapping—arms twisting in ways that used to hurt and legs reaching new angles every second.
But it’s happening all too quickly—you want it to slow down so you can bask in the feeling of doing what you love for everyone to see.
You find yourself singing along like you usually do, and start to worry that it could be heard. What if you sound like a crow, squawking Ten and Taeyong’s beautiful lyrics? Focus. You mentally slap yourself when you lean over a minute and a half in to scratch Mina’s chin and head. So you keep going.
You always dance Ten’s role—it was something you begged Mina when you chose Baby Don’t Stop as the next choreography you two would learn. Mina had no problem with it, considering she wanted to dance her own bias’ moves.
Two minutes in and you were officially breathing heavier after the last few complicated moves you had to do. Then the transition to Cherry Bomb started and you took a couple much needs breathes before continuing.
These last two minutes of Cherry Bomb you performed were always the hardest, especially since it was mainly beats rather than actual singing or rapping. There were so many movements that needed perfecting, so many angles that needed to be reached, and so many changes that had to be done quickly all had your head spinning.
Your legs are burning. God, they hurt. You can feel the sweat dripping across your neck, down your spine, and into the waistline of your jeans like a waterfall. However, you receive an adrenaline rush sent by the heavens after the first time you have to fall back onto the floor only to quickly lean back up and do a few more grueling flips and tumbles.
After your very difficult part on the floor, you finally rejoin Mina for the last forty seconds to begin your descent to an almost-split before jumping back up and finishing the song.
The loud music is cut off and you are left with only you and Mina’s heavy breathing, blood rushing in your ears, and the loud applause coming from the crew, anchors, and friends and family off to the side.
Oh my God. We did it. You quickly turn to Mina and engulf her into the tightest hug of your life, not caring about the slick layer of perspiration between you. “I’m so proud of you,” you mumble into her neck, giving her one last squeeze. “Of us,” she quips as Seojun and Yuna stop next to her.
“Kim Mina and ___ ___, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you all for watching and have a wonderful night!”
You wave tiredly at the camera and give a weak smile, but all you can focus on is how heavy your breathing is and an annoying bead of sweat rolling down into your asscrack. Seojun and Yuna say something about relaxing for a while in the private lounge upstairs and as soon as you hear water and brownies you’re off, racing Mina up the stairs no matter how badly your legs scream at you not to.
“I can’t believe we did that!” Mina screams, spinning around and making a bee-line for the table full of beverages and food. You quickly yank your sweaty tank off your body, crumble it up in a ball, and toss it at her head. “Oh my God, you’re a disgusting, repulsive, ugly, sickening rat,” she hisses, swatting your outreaching hand away.
You chuckle to yourself as you grab a water bottle, pausing for a moment to grimace at the copious amount of sweat in your cleavage before cracking the cap off of the bottle and nearly inhaling the delightfully cold, refreshing liquid.
“You know, maybe we should just forget about this. I’m so tired of the way you treat me,” you start, finishing the bottle before cracking open another one without even glancing her way.
“___,” she starts to interrupt, but you don’t let her. “Like, the amount of disrespect I get is nauseating,” you continue while reaching for a brownie and basically shoving the whole thing in your mouth. “___,” she says again.
“I just don’t understand. I do nothing but love and support you, clean the house, nurse our children,” you pause to chew on a chocolate chip cookie, “pick up the dog’s shit, for crying out loud! And this is what I get back?” You finally end your sarcastic rant, popping pieces of cut fruit into your mouth before breaking into a fit of giggles.
“___!” she shouts this, and you finally look at her, wondering if you’ve somehow offended her. You follow her gaze once you realize she’s not even paying any mind to you or your shenanigans.
And there they are.
All eighteen of them.
Right across the room.
The water bottle doesn’t make it to your mouth this time but instead falls from your grip and onto the floor. You don’t even notice it, considering all eighteen fucking members of NCT are sitting only a few yards away, their mouths slightly agape and a shocked expression mirroring your own.
You don’t know how long it takes for one of you to finally say something. “Am I hallucinating or is NCT in our room?” Mina whispers.
You blink hard. Rub your eyes. Pinch your skin. “No. They’re there.”
And then you sob. You don’t know what happened, but something within you snaps and a choke sounds from your lips and tears swell from your eyes.
“Oh my God, don’t cry,” someone says and seconds later engulfs you in a hug.
They were here. In the same room as you. Had they watched you perform? Were they invited, or did they coincidentally have an interview here as well? You sob into the jacket of whoever is holding you, your knees buckling beneath you as they hold you.
“Why are you crying?” None other than Nakamoto Yuta asks quietly, his hand placed gently on your head rubbing soothing circles.
You finally pull away and wipe underneath your eyes. When you look up at him you nearly choke again. He’s so beautiful. “I—how? I just—where did you? What the fuck?” You cry again and nearly melt into a pathetic puddle when he wipes the tears from your eyes.
“Should we leave?” Yuta laughs, his hands resting on your bare shoulders. “No!” You shout, too loudly. You look down in embarrassment. “Okay, good. I was beginning to wonder you actually didn’t like us,” he chuckles again, and this time you look at his face and nearly faint when you see his gorgeous smile you’ve spent hours gawking over.
“No, never. I’m just... confused? How—who? How did you guys get here?” You stutter, shaking under his gaze.
“Well, we were kind of notified that you two would be performing our songs and thought it would be pretty cool to surprise you,” a new voice appears. You feel like throwing up when Mark Lee comes into view.
“I don’t—I literally don’t know how to talk anymore. How is this happening?” You whisper to yourself, hoping they don’t hear you but by their chuckles they apparently do. “Sorry we surprised you to the point you practically shit yourself,” another someone laughs.
Lee Je No has joined your little circle now too, and you reach out to the table next to you to stand properly. “Sorry, give me a moment,” you chuckle, not because you find it funny, but because you’re so entirely wound up you think death is quite possible.
After a moment or so of you controlling your breath and the three awkwardly standing there, you finally lean up and look over them again. Calm down, idiot. They’re people. People that you have read smut about way too many times and have cried your heart out over. But still people.
“Hi, I’m ___,” you eventually opt for, reaching out to whoever. Yuta takes your hand first, then Jeno, and finally Mark. They introduce themselves as if it was totally normal. Mina!
“One second,” you quip, shuffling over to see Mina in her own little circle of Park Ji Sung, Kim Jungwoo, Kim Dong Young, and Lee Tae Yong.
She was with Taeyong!
You scan over the rest of NCT some who are in their conversations or awkwardly standing there. After all, it was eighteen meeting two. Your eyes don’t stay on one person for too long, just because your excitement is so overwhelming and you need to see everyone.
Wong Yukhei. There he was. Six feet tall in all his glory, rocking on his heels as he laughed loudly with Qian Kun. “Lucas is here,” you say suddenly and to no one in particular.
Your statement comes off more as a question and the trio laugh. “Well, he is part of NCT, is he not?” Mark asks with a grin. “Shush, she’s going through a midlife crisis over here. You heard her earlier,” Yuta retorts with an elbow to Mark’s side.
“Oh God, did he hear me say that he’s my bias?” You hiss, slapping yourself on the forehead. “Well, we were all watching, so I’d say so by the way he blushed about a hundred shades red,” Jeno says, giving your shoulder a squeeze. He blushed?
“C’mon, you should meet everyone,” Marks luckily saves the day and changes the subject. He reaches for your hand and you take it gently, looking down in hot embarrassment. You aren’t wearing your shirt! You’re mouth forms an ‘o’ as recognition hits you like a train and you let go of his hand to pick up the crumpled shirt on the floor.
Even after you pull the damp tank back on you still feel incredibly embarrassed for having been so exposed to the boys and can’t seem to shake it from your mind until you start meeting everyone.
It’s awkward at first, but they’re all incredibly sweet—sweeter than they are online—and you fit right in. After thirty minutes or so, you’re finally led to the last few members.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Lucas. What do I say? Act normal? Pretend he isn’t my lock screen or the reason I’ve been up until four in the morning on so many nights? You have yet another midlife crisis and opt to just smile at him.
But you can’t look away. The tall, beautiful, genuine, hilarious, pure, wonderful boy you never in a million years thought would be so close. You can barely breath when his eyes lock with yours and every working brain cell disintegrates.
His lips. They were even plusher and poutier in person and you wanted nothing more than to touch them. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead while a few blonde strands brushed his long eyelashes and you nearly cried at how soft and fluffy it looked. Defined eyebrows, darkdarkdark brown eyes, sharp jaw, and the soft slope of his nose were the only things you were focused on and yet you couldn’t find yourself to care despite the incredibly long staring contest the two of you were having.
“I was just telling everyone that you’re my mini-me,” Ten giggles and it finally brings you back to reality. You look away from Lucas to quirk an eyebrow at Ten’s statement. Just how long were you staring? Long enough to not know what they’re talking about, clearly. “You know,” he elbows you, “you dance my part in Baby Don’t Stop.”
“Oh,” you laugh, curling into him when his arm drapes over your shoulder, “I wouldn’t say I’m a mini you. Nowhere’s close.”
“You’re lying,” Lucas interjects and it takes everything in you to look at him again. “I think you dance it even better than Ten,” he teases and when he laughs something deep within the confines of your heart sparks—it’s a loud, hearty laugh that you swear on your life is the best sound you have ever heard. Your mouth falls open at his compliment and can’t help the hotness that rushes up your neck and onto your cheeks.
“Ouch,” Ten fakes to cry, finally removing his arm to place his hand over his heart. What were you to say? You simply could not form a coherent reply and instead stood there like an idiot, completely starstruck.
Eventually, conversations start to slow down and everyone is sitting, either on their phone or piling junk food onto plants and chowing down. You find yourself gravitating to the empty seat next to Mina and as soon as you sit down, she grins at you.
“What have we gotten ourselves into?” You laugh, toying with rips in your jeans. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I don’t ever want them to leave,” she sighs, and the realization hits you.
They were going to have to go eventually, and no matter how close they lived to you or not, the chances of ever being able to see them were incredibly low. It was like a dagger to the heart, twisting and digging into you as the disappointment settled in. “At least we got to meet them,” you whisper, trying to be optimistic.
“I know, but now that I’ve had a taste, I want the full platter,” she mumbles and you feel like smacking her for having to sound so wise.
Before you can reply, Chenle appears next to Mina and leans on his elbows, wisps of blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Hey, so, would you guys want to come back to the dorms with us? We’re doing a vLive and thought it would be cool to have you guys in it. It’ll be a truth or dare kind of thing with all of us. You guys should come.”
You gape up at him. Go back to the dorms with them? “Could we take a shower?” Mina asks.
“Yeah, of course. vLive can wait,” he laughs, the high pitch of it makes you laugh as well. Mina looks at you, silently pleading to agree.
“I’ll have to ask my mom.”
It took a lot of pleading and begging and fake crying for both you and Mina’s parents to finally agree. After a whole lecture about boys only wanting to get into girls’ pants, arguing that they aren't like that, and making you promise to never leave each other’s sides, you were finally at the dorms.
After Jaehyun guided you both to the bathrooms, you finally got the shower you desperately needed. After shampoo and conditioner, you scrubbed the layer of dried sweat off your skin and simply stood under the warmth of the water. Your muscles were so damn sore, and you were so incredibly exhausted that you feared you would be knocked out and miss out on the fun.
When someone knocked on the door and teased you about taking forever, you started to feel bad and eventually turned the water off. You dried, brushed your damp hair, and swapped your towel for leggings and a black t-shirt that stopped mid-thigh all under fifteen minutes before finally exiting the bathroom.
You hear laughter coming from down the hall and aimlessly follow in that direction, hoping to find your newfound... friends and not walk into some important meeting. Although, who would be meeting at seven o'clock at night?
“___, we got pizza!” Johnny calls from across the room, being the first to notice your entrance. Wow. The dance practice room is even bigger in person? Your fingers trace the mirrors on every wall as you make your way over, completely entranced with the large room.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Win Win asks, clearly catching onto your awe. “Yeah, I can’t believe how... how big it is,” you gape, spinning on your heels to take it all in again. Imagine how awesome it would be to have all this space!
“That’s what she said,” someone comments, and you look over to see Jaehyun smirking and can't help but laugh at his stupid line. “How original,” you snort while the rest of the boys roar in laughter.
“How did you manage to finish before me?”
You’re surprised when Mina appears by your side but also relieved that she’s finally here. “’Dunno, a lot of weird things have happened today.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are you guys going to eat or did we order four boxes for nothing?” Taeyong asks and you roll your eyes while Mina mumbles something along the lines of ‘so damn aggressive’ in your ear.
You skip over to the table and grab at a slice while discerning where to sit. Were you to just sit anywhere randomly? By yourself? With someone in particular? This is awkward. Jaemin must have read your mind since he calls you over and pats the open spot on the windowsill next to him.
“Thanks,” you smile, pulling your legs up and sitting crisscross. “So,” he starts, and you glance up at him.
Damn.
Jaemin always had a special place in your heart, so having him right here in front of you made concentrating on one part of his face rather difficult. “So.”
“I thought you and Mina’s whole story was really cool. Since it started as a joke and such,” he says, casually leaning back against the window. “Aw, thank you! As much as it would be super cool to be able to tell people dancing has been our passion our whole life, that’s just not the case. We just lucked out, I guess.”
“Heck yeah, you did. I mean, look at you! It’s a shame you don't sing too—you’d really be a knock-out,” he compliments rather smoothly, crisscrossing his own legs so that your knees were now touching. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting or not, not that you minded, but quickly brushed it off.
“Nana, are you flirting with a girl older than you?”
You look up and nearly shit yourself when Lucas leans against the wall next to you, his muscular thighs just barely pressing gently against your bent knee. “That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Jaemin replies, clearly not fazed by Lucas’ sudden bossy front.
“Anyway, I’m off. Catch me later, yeah?” Jaemin beams, playfully bumping into your shoulder before hopping off the sill and walking away. Leaving you by yourself. With Yukhei.
“Hello,” he greets, his voice deep and his grin wide, making his big eyes scrunch up in delight. “Hi,” you squeak, voice quiet and rather pathetic. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me, ___, and I’m really hurt,” he sighs from his position still next to the wall. Very intimidating for such a soft boy. You take a deep breath. Act normal.
You scoff. “Ah, yes, Yukhei, I’m sorry to break it to you, but I don’t like you.”
“You know you can call me Lucas.”
“I’m aware,” you laugh, suddenly hyper-aware of the sudden lack of space when he leans even closer. “Then why do you call me Yukhei?”
You swallow the thump in your throat and force yourself to look at the boy you have once claimed your undying love for. “’Dunno. I’ll start calling you Lucas if you really want me to.”
“No! No—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—never mind.” Bingo. Finally broke his little facade. “Gosh, Yukhei, you shouldn’t be flirting with a younger girl,” you use his words to Jaemin somewhat against him, and the sudden confidence has you grinning up at him. His mouth hangs open a bit.
Before he replies, Taeyong claps and everyone’s attention is on him. “We’re starting the vLive so if everyone could somehow come over here that would be fantastic.”
You shift off the windowsill after popping the last piece of pizza in your mouth and look up at Lucas, who’s still looking at you with his jaw slack. “Sorry, I’ll go back to being nervous around you,” you tease before bouncing back over to the two sofas.
Despite everyone’s pleas for you and Mina to sit on the couch, you opt for the floor and sit next to Jaehyun who greets you with a heartwarming smile. “Have you ever done a vLive before?” He asks once you’re comfortably settled next to him.
“Oh yeah, we’ve done a few. It’s kind of hard when you’re still a senior and have a shit ton of homework. Plus trying to learn new choreography takes a lot of free time,” you laugh. “I mean, you would know,” you add, hoping to not sound cocky.
“I feel that,” he smiles, moving his arm from between you to rest around your shoulders. You can’t help but smile at it.
“And... we’re on!” Jungwoo cheers, finally moving away from the phone set up on a tripod a few feet away. Everyone cheers and waves so you awkwardly join in, hoping to somewhat seem as if you aren’t freaking out internally.
Taeil, Mark, and Renjun go back and forth asking everyone watching to drop questions along with ‘good dares because we’re not pussies in this bitch,’ as Haechan whispered from behind you. It doesn’t take long for the comments to start flooding in, and you watch from Mina’s phone that a lot of them are mainly asking who you and she are.
“Guys, this is Kim Mina,” Taeyong finally announces, patting her head from his spot on the floor next to her.
“And this is my best friend ___ ___!” Jaehyun shouts, pulling you into his chest. “Woo!” You cheer, your heart ready to burst at his outburst of affection. “If you guys didn’t catch their performance today, definitely check out their YouTube channel. Super talented gals,” Taeyong finishes.
“Except they don’t sing!” Jaemin shouts and you glance back to give him a playful glare.
“Actually, I heard ___ singing my part in Baby Don’t Stop today,” Ten interjects and you want to die. The boys break into a chorus of ‘oooh’s, turning their attention to him. “She’s pretty good, not gonna lie. Not as good as me, of course,” he giggles.
You laugh, more thankful that you apparently don’t sound like a toad from Hell itself when you absentmindedly sing along during performances.
“I found a question!” Yuta hoots. “Mina and ___, are you dating anybody?”
You glance at Mina and break into a fit of laughter. “If we were dating anybody we definitely would not be here right now. Plus no one in our school wants to date us, we’re losers. So no, we’re not dating anyone,” Mina laughs.
“Way to lighten the mood,” Chenle cackles like a dolphin somewhere behind you.
“Oh, I got a dare. Jungwoo, you have been dared to slap Doyoung’s booty,” Jaehyun calls from next to you. Ah, yes. You’d finally get to see Dowoo in action.
After a few moments the two get up and stand right in front of you, and Jungwoo gives the most aggressive slap he could have done that has the whole room roaring in laughter while Doyoung basically cries.
“Mina, someone asked you to marry them, what do you say?” Ten shouts. “Sure! I’ll marry you!” The pretty girl next to you says to the phone, adding a charming wink that has them laughing again.
“Wow, I feel left out on this one. But someone asked that Mina, ___, and everyone from the Firetruck music video perform the first minute of the choreo,” Jeno reads and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. More dancing? “I don't think my legs can take any more moving,” Mina sighs.
“I’m with you on that one.”
“Do you know this?” Mark asks, walking with you to push the tripod back so everyone could fit within the frame.
“Yeah, might be a little dusty though,” you laugh. “That’s okay, so are we,” Yuta reassures before getting into his position. The song begins and luckily it only takes you a few moments for it to come back to you, but the song is paused after at the minute mark even before you can really get into it or break a sweat.
“That was fun,” you comment, sitting back down next to Mina and Jaehyun. His arm goes back around your shoulders and you’re left thinking way too far into it, your heart beating wildly at the older boy’s sudden attachment.
“Truth for Mina again: how are you so gorgeous?” Chenle reads and you watch as her face turns a deep shade of red that has you all cooing at her. “I’m not. But thank you,” she rushes and you smack the back of her head.
“I got a dare! Ha. Jisung, you have to eat a raw egg,” Jungwoo giggles and everyone cries ‘eww’ in unison. “I hate you all,” he grumbles, getting up and jogging out of the room. Moments later the blue-headed boy returns, glass in hand.
“You’re all going to burn in Hell for this,” he says before bringing the glass to his lips and chugging the egg down like a shot.
“Ehhhhhhh, ew, oh gosh, ewww,” he whines second later, his tongue wiggling out of his mouth and his face contorting into a disgusted grimace.
“Dare for ___ and Mina! You guys have to do splits,” Johnny reads, glancing up from his phone to wiggle his eyebrows at you.
“I can’t do a split,” you grumble, stumbling up to your feet. You move away a little and suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious when Mina goes down once and gets it perfectly. Your mouth hangs open. “Yeah, I don’t do that.”
“Try!” Someone hoots and you opt for a straddle since you almost have that during Cherry Bomb. You start to spread your legs, going lower and lower until the muscles in your thighs are screaming. “You got it!” Mina cheers you on, “helping” you by pushing your back lightly.
Instead, you lose your balance and stumble over, groaning when your chin hits the hard floor. “Thanks, stupidhead,” you mumble, your face red in embarrassment because you just face planted in front of NCT and their fan base.
You stand back up and brush yourself off with a smile, trying to seem unbothered, especially when Jaehyun shoots you a sympathetic smile from the floor. You make your way to the table and pour yourself a cup of soda despite the fact that Lucas was right there, ignoring him altogether to avoid another awkward encounter.
But, unfortunately yet somewhat, fortunately, he has a different idea. Before you can manage to walk away, his large hands reach out, attach to your waist, and pull you down until your sitting rigidly on his lap, perfectly set within the space of his chest and the arm of the sofa.
You attempt to not think too far into it, reminding yourself of all the times members randomly pull one another into each other’s laps. But this was Lucas, pulling you onto his lap. Your heart is beating sporadically now, all the blood rushing to your head and goosebumps rising along your skin.
He clearly notices it, too, since his one hand still on your waist squeezes while the fingers on his other trace the bumps on your forearm. You twist your head to look at him. “What are you doing?” You hiss after it finally hits you—people were watching.
“Am I still you’re favorite?” He grins, obviously mocking the question posed by Yuta. “Not right now you aren’t,” you retort, eyes wide when he laughs loud and incredibly obnoxious. Now everyone was really looking.
“Sorry! ___ is just super funny!” He laughs again and your eyes go wide as everyone takes in the scene before them. After they all get over it and go back to the vLive, you look at him again.
“Are you on drugs? What’s up with you? You’re even crazier in person,” you whisper, your voice clearly shrinking when his hands go back to wrap snugly across your stomach. “Not crazy.” Is all he says.
“What, then? Are you suddenly super clingy or something? Or just drunk out of your mind?” You keep egging him on—you need to know what’s going through his damn head. “First Jaemin, then Jaehyun, and then everyone’s whispering about you,” he replies, his voice deep and raspy in your ear.
“Excuse me?”
“Gotta make sure I’m still you’re favorite,” he whispers, smiling innocently against your shoulder. Your mouth falls agape. What the fuck was going on? Since when? How? When did this all happen?
As the vLive dragged on, there wasn’t many dares or questions posed anymore, and everyone was just joking around and talking. At times when both you and Lucas were laughing, you thought you could make an escape but his long fingers became an iron grip on your ribs if you even tried moving. And he was acting so normal; still cracking jokes and making faces and acting like an idiot as if you weren’t even there.
So, you eventually give up and decide you might as well get comfortable, moving around so his hip bone wasn’t uncomfortably digging into you or that you weren’t awkwardly just plopped on his lap. After all, it’s not like your making out with him or doing anything bad. Sitting on laps was a fairly normal thing, right?
And oh God, did he smell like heaven. It was as if sandalwood and peppermint were clouding your brain, and every time you glanced up you got a little peek at his gentle features you had found yourself so in love with when he first debuted. How did you find yourself so close to someone that nearly fills up half of your camera roll?
“Anyway, guys, I think we’re gonna log out for tonight.”
You turn your attention back to the original reason you were even here, heart thumping against your chest and whole body on fire. You cannot concentrate with Yukhei’s body heat warming you head to toe and his breathing against your neck or his occasional laugh, let alone his long fingers spread across the dips of your waist and his thighs beneath your own. You blink until you refocus, quickly realizing everyone was waving and shouting goodbye. With an apprehensive and rather awkward wave, you watch in relief as Taeyong finally ends the live.
You hold your breath—what now? As soon as his grip loosens you’re up, moving a few feet away to stretch and simply breath. Lucas follows after a few seconds, raising his long arms over his head and stretching them with a yawn.
“That was fun,” he says with a smile plastered on his face. You glare at him, not entirely too sure what to say. What was there to even say? ‘Hey man, what the fuck was that?’ or were you to just act normal about it? And what were the NCTzens going to say or do, and how many questions were going to be asked? Hopefully, people wouldn't delve that far into it.
“You guys should always come over when we go live,” he says, rocking on his heels. Oh, was this what we were going to do? Act normal? “I don’t think your fans would like that very much,” you laugh awkwardly.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I mean, or we could always use more members for NCT. Make it twenty,” he jokes and you truly laugh this time. “Yeah, no. I’m holding out until NCT Antarctica.”
“That would be exciting, you could impress everyone with your almost-there-but-not-really split,” he teases, laughing loudly again. There you go being embarrassed again, face burning red. “Shut up.”
“I’m kidding, I certainly can’t do that,” he says. “Gee, that makes me feel better,” you scoff playfully, rolling your eyes. He gasps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey, I hate to say this, but are you ready to go? I’m so knocked.”
Before you can reply Mina is next to you, pressing her body weight onto your side. “Uh, yeah, I’m ready if you are,” you smile to her sympathetically. “Thank the heavens, I could sleep for a year.”
“Mina and ___ are leaving, guys!” Lucas suddenly shouts and everyone breaks into a chorus of ‘aww’s. Ignoring the painfully obvious disappointment, you and Mina say goodbye to each member, offering a hug and quick exchange of appreciative pleasantries.
“What’s your numbers? We’re adding you to a group chat,” Ten says after releasing you from a hug. “What?”
He beams at you and you stutter your number out, Mina doing the same, and watch in complete astonishment as Ten types them into his phone. “Thanks,” he grins again, bringing you into another quick hug. He and Lucas walk the two of you to the door, and when Lucas wraps his arms around your waist after hugging Mina you feel as if you’re literally flying—physically and emotionally—as he lifts your feet up off the ground.
“Bye, ___,” he mumbles after setting you back down. “’Night, Yukhei.”
“Am I still your favorite?”
“Yeah, don’t you worry.”
Forty-eight hours later when you’re in the middle of studying AP Chemistry vocabulary, you receive a text from a number not saved. When you swipe it open, it’s a group chat full of exactly twenty people, and the only name in there is Mina.
Seventy-two hours later you have plans for Saturday night.
Forty-four hours later, you are sitting on the same sofas from last week, watching NCT U practice Boss while the backup dancers give you and Mina the rundown.
You’re nervous. You’ve done this choreography before, basically have it memorized like the back road you take on the way home, but you never did it as a group. The version with just two people was significantly different; plus having to do it with NCT? You would’ve never dreamt of this in a million—trillion—years.
You spent way too much time watching the dance practice on their channel and practicing it with Mina. Both Jaehyun and Win Win were feeling ill, and although the live could have just been pushed back, Taeyong insisted the two of you came and joined in for ‘shits and giggles,’ as Mark texted.
Thankfully it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing and it wouldn't be uploaded anywhere. But it would be live, which meant absolutely zero mistakes.
Mina squeezes your hand when the two of you finally move to the boys and get in your respective positions, the live already started a few minutes ago. “You ready?” Lucas turns around from in front of you, offering a reassuring smile. You nod quickly, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat and focusing on the positives.
Hey, maybe this would help your future career. Being with NCT for the second time may shine some light on you and Mina and could possibly give you major popularity. Nothing but good could come out of this, you tell yourself.
The song starts and your mind completely goes into business mode, your brain remembering twists and turns correctly until you’re following each part spotlessly, especially Jaehyun’s solo part, no matter how awkward it is looking into the phone all to yourself.
And you can’t help but feel as if your pushing yourself harder simply because Lucas is there with you. Sure, you’re scared shitless of messing up, but knowing he might be watching most definitely gives you a push, even if you don't want to admit it.
But you mess up.
It’s minor—incredibly minuscule that no one besides you probably notices it. Your ankle twists in an awkward angle and a searing pain shoots up your Achilles tendon that has you breathless for a moment. You dance through it though, and the song ends before you even know it.
The only sound throughout the large room is the heavy breathing from everyone followed by a joyous cheer. “That was so fun, holy shit. Dancing with a group is so... so empowering,” Mina stammers with her hands on her hips, breath heavy. You simply nod in agreement, your mind too caught up in how much your foot burns. Fuck.
“Showers and pizza, yeah?” Doyoung asks, running a hand through his dampened hair. Everyone nods in silent agreement before splitting up in different directions in search of a free bathroom.
You wobble behind Mina and it doesn't take her long to realize something’s up.
“You're hurt,” she notes, watching the way you limp. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’ll be okay,” you mumble, shooting her a smile and ignoring the rise of her perfectly sculpted right eyebrow.
But it still hurts, even after your shower.
Simply trying to pull your cotton shorts up your leg is an ordeal and you’re left out of breath once you have them on. Instead of heading back to where everyone else is, you wander through the corridors for the kitchen and once you’re there, you open the freezer in search for an icepack.
“Whatcha looking for?” You practically jump out of your skin at Lucas’ sudden appearance, leaning on the counter. “An ice pack,” you grumble, shoving an ice-cream carton out of the way.
“Yo, yo, yo, no need to get aggressive with the Rocky Road, man. What do you need an icepack for?”
“Foot. Ankle. Tendon. That area,” you reply, lifting your foot and pointing to the now swollen area. “Foot-ankle-tendon, that’s new.”
“Shut up,” you laugh, lightly smacking his hand. “Sorry, sorry,” he laughs freely now, the loud, angelic sound filling the room. He scoots you out of the way and continues digging through the freezer until moments later, he comes up with a beloved icepack. You beam at him in appreciation.
“C’mon, follow me,” he says, linking his arm through yours and leading you down a different hallway. Once he opens the door and flicks the light switch on, you realize it’s his and Kun’s room and your mouth slightly falls open. “Sit.”
You do so quietly, watching from his bed as the tall boy rummages through a dresser and seconds later whips out an ace bandage. “I can do that, you know,” you laugh awkwardly, ogling at how his beautiful face scrunches up in concentration as he kneels down and begins to snugly wrap the whole area.
“You can also call me Lucas,” he retorts, pinning the bandage in place and kicking his door closed. Your heart beats faster now. “Oh my God, what’s wrong with calling you Yukhei? Unless you truly don’t like being called that,” you laugh as he plops down beside you and turns the television on. Your heart settles.
“No, I don’t mind. I’m just not used to people I’m not super close with calling me Yukhei,” he admits while flipping through channels. “Oh. I’m being honest, I’ll call you Lucas from now on if you want.”
“I’m teasing, you can call me anytime,” he looks over with a wink, but then his face falls, “wait.”
You genuinely laugh at him this time, watching as he frowns. “How did you forget the whole beginning to that pun?”
“I don’t know. Shut up,” he snickers, then tosses the remote down next to your leg with a huff. He quickly turns to you and you look expectedly at him. “Have you ever played Fortnite?”
You laugh again. “I’ve played mobile but never Xbox or PlayStation,” you admit, watching joyfully as his eyes light up. “Can I show you how to play? We can do duos. We have two TVs, Kun and I usually play together. I mean, only if you want, you don’t have to, but—”
“Yes, I’ll play!” You interrupt, your mouth truly hurting from laughing as the beautiful boy in front of you rambled on. “Really?” He beams.
“Really.”
“Oh my gosh, this is probably the best day ever. I’ve never been able to teach anyone how to play, it’s really so fun, well you said you’ve played before so you know, but still. I feel so bad for all the girlfriends in the world who don’t play and just get annoyed ‘cause they're really missing out, you know? I’m so happy you’re somewhat experienced though, that kind of makes this a little easier. But, ah! This will really be fun,” the tall boy goes on and on, and you simply listen with a smile on your face as he sets up the two screens.
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, I got super excited. I promise I’m not that weird,” he chuckles uncomfortably, looking at his feet while the Fortnite screen loads. “Pfft, don’t be sorry. And that wasn’t weird at all; super cute, actually,” you smile, surprising even yourself with your blunt honesty. The pink hue of his cheeks darken and your stomach leaps—you did that!
“Okay, this is just the lobby so I can show you some stuff before it actually starts,” Lucas says, sitting back on his bed and scooting to lay back against the wall. He passes you a PlayStation controller and cups your hands in his. “Okay, this is to move,” he demonstrates and you look up to your screen and back to his fingers.
He goes on and on from explaining the simple goal of the game to shooting, jumping, crouching, and so on, but in all honesty, all you can focus on is his soft hands on yours. Luckily once the game starts you sit in comfortable silence aside from random comments about finding a chest or ‘there’s a shield over here,’ until, alas, there are only twenty people left and you encounter another duo.
The two of you break into a chorus of shouts, warning each other and groaning when you mess up. Your aim isn’t horrific, but definitely not amazing, and you’re wasting ammo terribly. When you have to reload, the opponent shoots you dead and you drop your controller with an annoyed sigh. Seconds later, he dies as well.
“Sorry, that was my fault,” you grumble, wiping your now sweaty hands on your t-shirt. “Don’t worry, eighteenth place isn’t too shabby for your first duo,” he reassures you and sets his controller down.
“Are we going to play another?” You inquire and he raises a thick brow in response. “Do you want to?”
“Um, yeah!”
You play fourteen more rounds, ranging from fiftieth, seventeenth, sixth, and sometimes even fourth place. On your last round, however, Lucas dies and leaves you to battle the last duo.
With a clever jump while reloading, you’re able to quickly kill one player and when the last player hides behind a tree, you find the perfect angle and come in first place.
“Oh my God, we won! You won!” Lucas hoots, shaking you by your shoulders until you’re cheering with him. “Yes, yes, yes!” You shout, grinning ear to ear. “I’m so proud, now you can tell everyone I’m the best Fortnite tutor ever,” he brags, running his hand through his hair and you have to keep yourself from drooling.
You check your phone. 9:47 PM. You’ve been in here for two hours. “I think we’ve played enough for tonight,” he chuckles, turning one television off and switching the other to cable. Now what? Should I leave?
“Holy shit, Zootopia is on,” he suddenly gasps and you look over to see him wide-eyed. “I thought guys weren’t supposed to like stuff like this?”
“We’re not supposed to,” he shrugs, looking over at you with a wide grin, “but I can’t help myself.” You don’t reply and instead sink lower into the mattress, fixing the pillow behind your head in order to get comfier. You keep going back and forth from watching the movie and sneaking glances at Yukhei in his red sweatshirt, hood up and hiding most of his face. Regardless, you can still see strands of his soft hair falling into his eyes and the outline of his lips and begin to feel dizzy by something so incredibly simple but still so breathtaking.
Your eyes begin to grow heavy and burn from the brightness of the television compared to the darkness of the rest of his room and you force yourself to blink hard a few times to keep them from fluttering closed. Don't fall asleep now, he's so close. He was leaning his weight on you, slightly slumping on his side with his arm and thigh pressing against yours and you could feel him breathing.
You blink again, but you don’t open them right away this time just to give them a rest. A few minutes won’t hurt, right?
You quickly fall asleep to Nick Wilde telling Officer Judy Hopps that she needs to give him that pen.
Warmth.
That’s exactly what you wake up to—you can feel warm sunlight dancing on your bare arm and face as it shines shamelessly through the curtains, the white duvet tucked up to your neck engulfs you like a hug, and overall warmth surrounds you on this lovely morning.
Never getting up, you think to yourself, or maybe you even grumble it, you don’t know. You sigh softly and curl your arms and legs tighter around your body pillow, pressing your face against it and breathing in the familiar scent—
Wait.
You inhale deeply again. Sandalwood and peppermint.
Sandalwood and peppermint?
Your eyes are open in a millisecond, but you quickly squeeze them shut in fear of that what you think you saw isn't what’s actually there. You force yourself to peel an eye open again and nearly vomit at how breathtaking the view before you is.
“Yukhei,” you finally breath, barely audible, testing to see if he was up. He doesn’t budge or flinch or sigh—nothing. He stays asleep, his breath softly fanning over your chest from where he lies. The same soothing sunlight warming your skin makes his honey skin gold, and his eyelashes cast soft shadows across his cheekbones while his lips are just so pouty you aren't even thinking when your hand leaves his side to trace his Cupid’s bow.
If your phone was in reach you’d take a picture right then and there and selfishly keep it to yourself, something no one else could have because it’s your memory to keep. But you can’t seem to move. Instead, you stay still, memorizing every plane and curve of his face because you know nothing will ever be as ethereal as what you see right now.
One, five, ten minutes later, you have no idea nor do you care, you realize you should leave. This wasn't right, as much as you hated to admit it. Your heart was completely on the line here and you weren't prepared to be utterly heartbroken in the long run.
You start to shift, slowly, barely an inch at a time, further from the comforting warmth radiating off his body. You’re closer to the window now, and once you detach his remaining hand, you can easily lean up and make your escape.
You shakily reach for his long fingers spread across the small of your back and gently slide it off and lay it on his pillow.
Yukhei groans into his soft pillow and you freeze, hoping he’ll just turn away but no—both hands come back this time, reaching for your body. And once they find your waist you’re being pulled back even closer now.
He sighs against your collarbone and you start to melt. “Don't go. You’re so warm,” he breathes, turning his face so that his cheek lies flat on the center of your chest. “I think I should.”
“No, shut up,” he mumbles back, completely locking his muscular arms around your back.
You huff in defeat and rest your hands around his shoulders. He seems to already be back asleep, so you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair you've been dying to touch and practically cry when he hums in response. So you continue to, gently scratching his scalp and untangling the ends until he's softly snoring against your collarbone once more.
Your heart genuinely aches—you can feel it in your chest, months and weeks and days and hours of adoration for the boy clinging to you swelling from inside and out and you cannot comprehend that you're even here with him. What did this mean? Friends who have only met twice and randomly texted throughout a single week did not share a bed, let alone spend the morning like this.
You sigh, mainly out of guilt but also sadness—you wanted to wake up like this every morning, stay up every day the way you had, fall asleep with him beside you every night. But would it happen? It was incredibly unlikely and you wanted to sob.
You huff again, pushing your thoughts into another corner of your brain and deciding to just relish in the moment now. You wiggle further down until finally, you’re face to face with perfection himself, his nose just barely brushing your own.
You close your eyes again, hoping maybe you’d fall back asleep and when you wake up again he wouldn’t be there anymore.
“I knew you wouldn’t leave.”
Your eyes are open in a flash, widening at his words and at the fact his own were staring at you intently. “Only because you asked. And you’re very comfy,” you admit, hoping he wouldn’t see right through you. “So I’ve been told.”
“Oh, yeah? By who?” You can't help but ask, not only were you curious but you genuinely wanted to hear his raspy morning voice again. “Oh, you know...” He trails off, and you’re not aware of his hands on your waist until they start tapping against your skin.
“Jungwoo?”
“Yeah, Jungwoo,” he breathes, nuzzling his face back into the crook of your neck and you can’t help but notice that he inhales deeply. “You alright?” You ask gingerly, placing your free hand back on his head and playing with an oddly darker strand of hair.
“Mhm,” he hums against your skin, “comfy. And you smell good.”
Your heart jumps over hurdles at his words and you’re so entirely grateful that he can't see the way your cheeks burn. You stare at the wall for the next few minutes in silence, your mind blank until he starts to breathe heavily and you can only assume he’s fallen asleep once more.
You must have fallen back asleep as well because when you open your eyes again the tall boy isn’t next to you, but sitting on the edge of the bed and prodding you awake. And by prodding, you mean attacking your sides and tickling you until your mind registers the dull pain.
“Stop, stop, stop!” You cry, leaning up and tearing his hands away. “I’m up, I’m up. Jesus,” you hiss, leaning against the wall and smoothing your hair.
He’s grinning so big you fear his face might break. “Sorry, you wouldn’t wake up so I had to do it the hard way,” he laughs.
“Did you try saying my name?”
“Yeah.”
“Poking me?”
“Yep.”
“Oh,” you sigh, “sorry. I guess I was really knocked.” He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I would’ve let you just stay there all day but your phone was blowing up,” he explains, standing up and stretching. He’s already dressed, so when you check the time you aren't surprised to see that it’s noon.
Mina has texted you nineteen times. Some are from last night simply asking where you were, then calling you out for leaving her alone with Jeno, followed by texts from this morning calling you ‘such a thot and you know why’ and ending with something along the lines of ‘Taeyong isn’t my bias anymore;)’ and you’re laughing.
“What?” Lucas asks and you just show him, watching his expression grow until he’s laughing too. “I feel bad, I stole you from her,” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. How were you supposed to reply to that? “That’s okay, she’s left me all by myself at parties plenty of times, this isn’t a big deal.” You notice the way his face falls but brush it off when he smiles softly and sits down beside you. “Good. How’s the foot feel?”
“Uh, better, I think. I haven’t walked it yet so I’m not sure.”
Goosebumps rise along your limbs the second he reaches for the white blanket and his knuckles brush your skin and you just pray he doesn’t notice. You watch silently as he unwraps the bandage and presses the skin around your ankle. “Well, it’s not nearly as swollen so that should be a good sign, right?”
“I suppose so,” you laugh, twisting your ankle in his gentle hold. Luckily there’s no major pain so you shimmy off the bed (as much as you don’t want to) and stand up, testing your weight as he watches on. “I think it’ll be okay.”
“Phew, thank Jesus,” he smiles, getting up as well and swinging the door open. “There’s still some leftovers from breakfast if you want some,” Lucas says as you walk down the corridor to the kitchen. Jisung and Haechan pass you on the way and when they wiggle their eyebrows, all you do is smile and look down at your feet.
“Breakfast sounds amazing.”
When you enter the kitchen only Mina and Jeno are in there, sitting on high top chairs at the counter. Mina sees you first and her eyes light up. “___! Look who decided to wake up!”
“Sorry,” you laugh, “I was super tired I suppose.”
“Mhm, I wonder why,” Jeno smirks and your mouth falls open. “NO!” You and Lucas shout at the same time and Mina and Jeno break into a fit of giggles. “We played Fortnite all night. And watched Zootopia,” you grumble, smiling appreciatively when Lucas passes you a plate.
“Is Fortnite a new code for f—”
Lucas glares at Jeno angrily and he quickly shuts up, turning to Mina with a grin. “When did that happen?” You scoff, pointing between them. If they were going to play like that, so would you.
“Well, when you two disappeared she was all alone so we hung out and even practiced Go,” Jeno retorts back. You roll your eyes in defeat and hold your plate out as Lucas spoons what’s left of scrambled eggs and toast on your plate. “Thank you,” you beam at him.
You eat in relative silence except for the occasional snicker when Lucas leans over to show you a meme on his phone. After helping to clean up, you and Mina finally deem that it’s time to leave and say goodbye to whoever is out and about in the dorms.
You find yourself wrapped in Lucas’ muscular arms once again and you can't help but feel at home in his warm embrace. Discreetly as possible, you scrunch his sweatshirt in your palms and breath in his alluring scent, praying, hoping that this won't be the last time you’ll ever be so close. “Text me, okay?” He mumbles in your hair.
“Yeah, sounds good,” you smile, finally pulling away from his hold.
And so you do. You’re lying in bed, fresh out of the shower on Tuesday night with all homework complete and Mina on FaceTime.
“Jesus Christ ___, just send it. You slept in the same bed for crying out loud,” she hisses and your face flushes at the recent memory. “Okay, okay. I’m sending it.”
9:53 PM - To Lucas: hey yukhei!!
“Oh gosh, I sent it,” you gasp, tossing your phone onto the floor and smacking your face. Mina looks at you with a raised eyebrow from the screen of your laptop. “I have to tell you something.”
Now, this makes you look up, completely forgetting about the text. “I hate that sentence,” you say, but luckily she doesn't seem too fazed. “No, it’s not bad. Well, kind of. I don’t know,” she sighs, worrying you, “remember when I texted you saying Taeyong isn’t my bias anymore?”
“I’m guessing you weren't just joking around?” You ask slowly.
“I wish. Well, when me and Jeno were hanging out all night I hadn't really realized until he was talking all philosophical to me just how cute he was. And once I did, I noticed how hardcore he was flirting,” she rambles, never looking directly at the camera, “so while you were sleeping in the same bed as Lucas I was, you know, flirting back, and we uh—we kissed. And then he apologized for rushing and I said that I was sorry too and, well, now we’re going on a date tomorrow!”
Your mouth falls open. Mina and Jeno? “I—wow. I don't know what to say,” you laugh, “that’s amazing!”
“You think so?” She’s beaming like a little girl on Christmas morning now. “Yes! While Taeyong is a god, he’s way too old for you while Jeno is our age. Plus, he’s a sweetie so I support.”
“Oh, gosh. He’s such an angel. He’s so adorable and so funny but if he thinks a joke is rude he always apologizes and God, he’s so sweet,” she goes on and you can't help but smile for her. Your phone dings from the floor and Mina stops to smirk at you. “That might be him!”
You squeal, leaning off your bed and picking up your phone.
9:57 PM - To You: Hello ___ !!!
“Oh my God, he replied,” you squeak excitedly, bouncing excitedly. “Yes!” Mina shouts and you can’t help but laugh. “Ask him how he is.”
9:58 PM - To Lucas: how are youuuu
“So yeah, I guess we’re going to have to double date now,” she giggles and if she was next to you, you would have smacked her. “I don’t want to mess this up, you know? It’s still so unreal to me,” you sigh.
“I mean, you’re already pretty good friends with him and you had a major snuggle session, plus I think you’re both whipped and should just marry now,” Mina says and you laugh at her honesty. “Ah, yes. Marriage is always the answer.
10:01 PM - To You: Im doing better now, how are u?:))
You can’t help but squeal again. “Anyway, I’m going to go. I still have to do these god-forsaken note cards,” she sighs, waving her blank cards dramatically, “have fun talking to your boyfriend. Text me if anything juicy happens.”
“Okay, I will. Goodnight sweaty, love you.”
“Love you too shithead,” she giggles before hanging up and you close your laptop to finally head to bed. Or, lie in bed while on your phone.
10:03 PM - To Lucas: im swell. school SUX tho
10:03 PM - To You: Aww I’m sorry, is something wrong?
10:04 PM - To Lucas: no, i just want to be out of there and live my life u kno?
10:04 PM- To You: Yeah, I understand:(
10:04 PM - To You: I have a question
10:05 PM - To Lucas: sure
10:05 PM - To You: Is my bed comfier than urs
The butterflies in your stomach are becoming painful now, stirring such emotions within you that you feel as if you might just explode. You’re grinning like an idiot, too, typing back quickly just so the conversation doesn’t die.
10:06 PM - To Lucas: it depends. theres a few factors that could change my answer
10:06 PM - To You: Such as?
10:06 PM - To Lucas: whether you would be there or not
You have to bite your lip to hold back another squeal of excitement. Where did this confidence come from and how did you just say that? You can’t believe you actually texted it and hope it’s as smooth as it sounded in your head. You could only pray he would flirt back.
10:07 PM - To You: Idk how to reply back smoothly but I hope u know Im smiling like a dork rn and Kun is making fun of me
10:07 PM - To You: How do you do that???
10:08 PM - To Lucas: <33
10:08 PM - To Lucas: do what?
10:09 PM - To You: Everything you say or do makes me smile. And idk why like even when u told me to shut up I couldn't stop grinning. Or when you pretend to be disinterested and lie so I can't see how u actually feel. It makes me smile and I feel weird when Im around u
You can't breathe at his text. Your head is spinning and you have to read it three times to actually comprehend that Wong Yukhei sent that to you.
10:10 PM - To Lucas: i could say the same ab you. you make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside
10:10 PM - To Lucas: gosh, was that too much? sorry
10:11 PM - To Lucas: sorry for always being a mess around u. u still make me nervous
10:11 PM - To You: Yeah. Me too
10:11 PM - To Lucas: really?? u hide it really well
10:12 PM - To You: Yeah man. U make me really anxious. In a good way. I know you won't but I always get scared you'll think im a weirdo
10:12 PM - To Lucas: i could never
10:13 PM - To You: I don't know how to end this conversation now Im too happy but Im super tired and I have practice tmrw
10:13 PM - To Lucas: hm. well. how bout one of us says goodnight and then the other says it back ?
10:14 PM - To You: Clever
10:14 PM - To You: Goodnight ___💗💗
10:14 PM - To Lucas: gnight lucas❤️
You don't fall asleep for another half an hour, your mind buzzing with excitement and affection for the boy who still is your lock screen.
Saturday evening Ten calls you. “___!” He shouts, nearly deafening you.
“Hello!” You shout back.
“I know it’s last minute but I have an invitation for you and Mina,” he’s still talking excessively loud but you find yourself not minding but just grinning at his clear excitement. “Ooh, an invitation for what?”
“If I’m being honest, an invitation for a terrible hangover and quite possibly things you’ll regret. But no, seriously, a friend of Johnny’s friend is having a big ol’ party in his disgustingly large frat house for the end of the semester and it’s open invite. So,” Ten explains, “some of us are going and thought, ‘Hey! Let’s invite our bestest pals Mina and ___!’”
A frat house? A party in a frat house? This would be a precursor to every party ahead of you if you do in fact go to college.
“We’ll be there.”
You should have mentally prepared yourself for this kind of party. You aren’t a very big high school party-goer to begin with, so when you entered the large house with Mina at your side you couldn't get over the sheer magnitude of it all.
Everything was extra—from the extravagant chandeliers and metal railing along the marble stairs to the large rooms seemingly bigger than your own home, to the swarm of sweaty students bouncing to the incredibly loud music, and even to the amount of liquor on counters and tables and the intense smell of hormones.
It was quite suffocating at first and you found yourself clinging to Mina, the extrovert between the two of you, and followed her around like a puppy. Eventually, you warm up after two drinks she passes to you, starting to feel more relaxed in Mina’s navy bodycon dress she forced upon you.
“I think I see Jaehyun!” She shouts in your ear even though you can hear completely fine. You watch against the counter as she jumps up and down like an idiot, waving her arm to catch his attention.
You’re even more surprised when it works. You can tell the gears are short-circuiting in his brain until recognition finally lights up his features and he smiles brightly. He turns for a moment, but then looks back and waves you over.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” you sigh, downing your fourth shot in a weak attempt to wash all your insecurities away. You slowly follow behind Mina, hopping along to take your heels off so you don't end up embarrassing yourself.
“I didn’t know you guys were here yet!” Is the first thing you hear and it’s Yuta, standing up and grinning beautifully before enveloping you in a hug.
“Surprise?” You draw out once he pulls away.
“C’mon, everyone’s downstairs,” he continues, intertwining his fingers with yours and leading you through the crowd. “Who’s everyone?” You ask on your descent down the steps. “Ugh, well. Me, of course. Taeil, Johnny, Tae, uh...” he trails off, “everyone but Dream members.”
You want to ask if Lucas was there, of course, but you also don’t want to seem clingy and instead kept your mouth shut. After all, you had been texting quite a lot and he never mentioned if he was going tonight. Poor Mina, you think, Jeno won’t be here and their date went well.
“God, he’s already staring and we just got down here,” Yuta mutters, and it takes you way too long to process what he means. “Who?”
“Yukhei. He hasn't stopped talking about you since last week, and now you’re here when he’s been drinking? You’re in for a ride,” Yuta explains as you near the group, but you already feel the anxiety blooming inside your gut. “What does that mean? What do I do?” You hiss, walking slower now.
“I dunno. That’s something you gotta figure out,” he says with a shrug, tapping your forehead with his free hand. You swallow the lump in your throat and just nod, your head suddenly throbbing and you’re not sure if it’s from the soju or what Yuta just told you. Or the fact that Yukhei looks like a whole meal and he’s staring at you just the same way.
Your stomach flips as he scans you head to toe and back again, from your bare legs, up to where the navy lace stops at the expanse of your thighs, to the way the dark material hugs deliciously at your waist and dips sinfully to reveal cleavage that could give a nun a heart attack.
And you can't take your eyes off him. Why did he always have to look so... so good? He could wear a trash bag and still look like a model.
He’s in regular denim skinny jeans that, although he’s sitting, show off his thick thighs and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The white, long sleeve tee he’s wearing has a low collar and you can see his collarbones and the way his Adam’s apple bobs. His fluffy hair is messily parted down the middle to show off his forehead and his eyes are so dark you feel as if you suddenly can't breathe oxygen and can only survive off him.
You don’t know how long you’re staring at him until Mina accidentally bumps into you on her way to sit down on the carpet, shaking you from your thoughts. “You good?” You ask each other at the same time. She laughs obnoxiously, the alcohol in her system already in effect.
“I’m good, but are you good?” She asks knowingly, twitching her head in the direction you were just entranced by. “Yeah, just peachy.”
You don't know if you really are good, but what you do know is that that was the hottest checking out experience you had ever shared and can't shake the feeling of excitement setting fire to your nerves.
“C’mon, sit. I’ll get you a drink?” Yuta speaks up again, finally letting go of your hand and moving it to your back to walk you over to an open spot on the couch. “Um, yeah. Sure,” you smile, trying to brush away the feeling that Lucas is still staring, “thank you.”
He only beams back in return before he’s off, and you’re left sitting between Taeil and Kun. “How’s the party so far?” Taeil shouts from beside you and you’re fairly surprised that he initiates small talk, considering you haven’t spoken with him much. “I don’t know, to be honest,” you answer, realizing your throat is going to be dead by the end of the night with how you have to shout, “I’ve only been here like, fifteen minutes. And I’ve never been to a place so big!”
“Really?” He asks, clearly surprised.
“Yeah, not really a party person. High school parties are always in smelly basements and all there is is cringey rounds of truth or dare, spin the bottle, or seven minutes of heaven.”
“Still happens in grown-up parties, sorry to tell you,” he laughs, pausing to take a sip of whatever’s in his cup, “it’s okay though, it’s always fun no matter what we do.”
“I can tell. Except I feel like I’m going to go deaf,” you exaggerate, spinning to look at the monstrous speaker on the wall. “At least they play good music,” Taeil replies and you shrug, “I guess. It’s probably better when your dancing, though,” you say, turning back to him.
Yuta returns moments after that, holding out a cup and you take it and smile appreciatively. When you take a sip, you practically choke on how strong it is but swallow it anyway with a grimace. Once the burn goes away you take another sip and deem it’s not as bad as you initially thought.
“Jesus, slow down before you give him a heart attack,” Kun hisses in your ear, and you glance at him with widened eyes. “Who? And what about me? What if I have a heart attack?” You joke.
“I swear you’re clueless, but I’m hoping that it’s just alcohol shutting down your brain,” he sighs in defeat, “Lucas, of course. He looks away for one second and then when he turns back you’re doing something that surprises him.”
You roll your eyes. “What, am I not allowed to drink?”
“Well, you are underage. But no, seriously. I can tell he thinks it’s hot. Plus, I can practically smell his jealousness from here,” Kun replies, side glancing for barely a second before looking back at you. “You should have seen him when you walked down holding Yuta’s hand.”
You swallow, suddenly feeling guilty.
“Don’t worry about it, he’s not one to stay pissed. He’s obsessed with you already,” Kun smiles, but hides it by taking a sip from his cup, “but hey, next time you sleepover, warn me? Please? I walked into our bedroom the other night and nearly shit myself when I saw you wrapped around him.”
“Sorry, I probably would’ve shit myself too,” you giggle and when something moves out of the corner of your eye, you frown to see Lucas walking away. “He’s getting away,” Kun sings and you look back to him in a panic. “If I follow him I don’t know what could happen,” you sigh honestly.
Of course, you want to go after him just to talk to him privately, but Lord knows what could happen when you have liquor in your system.
“Bullshit! Don’t let that stop you,” Kun smiles, slipping his hands to your back and shoving you to your feet. You sigh, finally standing up and chugging the rest of your drink. “Do I look alright?”
“You look stunning, stop worrying. He went upstairs, probably to piss. Go get ‘em, tiger,” he replies, and you smile and lean back down to squeeze him in a hug. “Thank you,” you whisper, and then you’re off.
You don’t know if it’s the sudden buzz in your brain or not, but going up two flights of stairs leaves you way too winded and dizzy then it normally does. You lean against the wall to catch some air while scanning over the crowd from a higher view. C’mon, where are you?
“___?”
You practically jump out of your skin when he says your name and slides his hands around your waist, tugging you around to face him. “Ha. Hi Yukhei. I was just looking for you,” you gulp, suddenly losing brain cells with him being so close again.
“You were?”
“Yeah, I thought we could, um, catch up. Or something,” you chuckle awkwardly, mentally slapping yourself for being so nervous again.
“Actually, I have something to tell you,” he suddenly says, standing taller and you feel so small when he does that. “You do?” You squeak, afraid it would be something terribly disappointing or terribly heartwarming.
“Yeah, c’mon,” he says, reaching for your hand and guiding you to an open door. Luckily it’s not a spare bedroom but just the bathroom and you can’t help but sigh in relief once he’s locked the door and flicked the light switch up.
“So, we recently had a meeting with our managers and stuff,” he starts, and you can’t help the quiet ‘oh’ that slips from your lips. That was not what you thought he would be talking about.
“What?” He stops, a look of worry crossing his face.
“Oh, oh. It’s nothing. I was just, ugh,” you pause, racking your brain to say the right thing, “expecting you to say something else.”
“I’ll get there in a bit, don’t worry,” he smiles softly, bumping into you until you’re pressed against the sink and straining to look directly up at him now, “just listen to this first, yeah?”
You nod quickly, your throat completely dry and brain on fire with his body so flush against your own. “Anyway, we were talking about backup dancers, for the most part. And it occurred to me that we don’t have any female backup dancers. So I asked why and they kind of just... ‘I don’t know’ed it, you know?” He explains, and you genuinely have zero clue where this is going. You nod anyway.
“So Taeyong asked what they thought about hiring some female backup dancers. Like, long-term jobs, not just a one-song-and-done. And they kind of did a little manager huddle and said why not and to let them know of anyone we know so they can do auditions and stuff,” he goes on, and by now you can’t think straight. He hasn’t said it yet, but what if?
“We all thought the same thing, but I said it first and, so, I told them about these two girls I know and how talented they are and how, well, sweet and smart and genuinely amazing they are. And pretty, but that’s beside the point. So I showed them some videos and stuff. Anyway, that’s not important,” he pauses to lick his plump lips, looking at you directly now, “and so they said that if you and Mina came in and auditioned it would be a delight to have you on the team. If you want, of course.”
You don’t know what to say, do, or think. You’re hyper-aware of his large hands cupping your face, index fingers rubbing soft circles beneath your ears but also still have the weight of what he just said sinking into your brain. You don’t know whether it’s the alcohol or simply shock but no words come out, your lips staying parted in complete and utter surprise at such a bombshell.
“I don't—I can’t,” you stammer, shaking hands gripping his shirt to steady yourself, “thank you. Fuck. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Holy shit. Oh my God. I don’t know what to say, holy fucking shit.”
You’re breathless, slumped against the granite and nearly pulling the lanky boy down with you. “I have more to say,” he says, quieter this time. You gulp, eyes searching his face. Still, you can’t comprehend anything besides you and Mina may have just fallen into one of the best opportunities of your life.
“Okay,” he sighs softly, his large hands still cradling your face. “My first thought last weekend when I woke up with you beside me was ‘Fuck, what did I just get myself into?’ but when you said something about never getting up and whispered my name in that scared little voice I nearly lost it,” he goes on, eventually looking away from your face and fiddling with the lace material on the neckline of your dress. He suddenly looked incredibly innocent and you wanted nothing more than to hold him once more.
“And then you didn’t leave, even though I know you wanted to. But it suddenly felt so right, you know? Like everything that had happened that night ended with such a perfect morning,” he sighs, glancing up for a second to check how you were taking it all so far. When you offer him a warm smile, heart beating wildly against your chest, he returns it with pink blush adorning his cheeks.
“I thought you felt it too, but then later when I woke you up you had said it wasn’t a big deal, and I was so sad because I thought it was. I mean, how often do you play fifteen rounds of Fortnite, share the same bed, and wake up cuddling with someone you don’t have feelings for? And then I got even more confused when you texted me during the week, and fuck, everything you said had me smiling at my phone and Kun was making fun of me,” Lucas goes on, never stopping to breath until now.
“So, my question is, what are you thinking? Because I know I was your bias, or whatever the heck you guys call it before we met, and you still act nervous around me. And those texts and even this is not something just friends do. And you look so damn kissable right now, and while I want nothing more than to kiss you, I won’t in case that’s not what you want,” he finishes, his voice noticeably lowering as he tentatively leaned closer, his face and nose and lips only mere centimeters away.
You swallow once more, finally letting the reality of his words hit you. You swipe your tongue over your lips once, just in case, and he glances down just in time to catch it.
And that’s it.
He quickly surges forward, and the cord holding you together suddenly snaps when his lips are finally on yours. It’s like a breath of fresh air on the first day of spring, filling you to the brim with new life and you can't get enough. You both are doing nothing but everything at the same time, hands not knowing where to go but stinging skin in their wake. His lips make it impeccably wet and messy, teeth and tongue, but you don’t care, and your hands finally find the collar of his shirt and yank him to come closer, allowing his tongue to finally swirl with yours and you feel as if you’re drowning in him and the way he tastes and feels. It’s like sunlight in the morning, washing over your skin until it’s warmed all the way to your very being.
After what feels like an eternity you pull away, your head swimming with the fact he just kissed you. He leans back, breathless but seemingly more alert now, blunt fingernails digging into your bare thighs. His eyes scan your face again, searching for any trace of regret and when he finds none he comes back for more, kissing you softer this time. It’s so raw that it hurts, adoration and admiration flowing from the depths of your heart and you can’t fight it anymore.
You’re practically limp against him when his warm lips move from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your throat and to your bare chest. “God,” he breathes, moving back up to suck the delicate skin on the side of your neck between his teeth before going back with his tongue to sooth the pleasant pain, “I didn’t know if I’d be able to wait any longer to kiss you.”
Your head lolls to side as he continues his ministrations against your throat, completely lost in his touch. Your grip on his shirt finally slackens and you finally find the confidence to slide your hands under the fabric, leaning into him so you can further trace the expanse of his torso.
“Stop,” he suddenly hisses, pulling away to grab your wrist, “you’re going to give me a terrible boner and I’m not fucking you in this dingy house.”
His words made your stomach squirm even at the possibility and he clearly notices, lips quickly finding yours and hands holding your waist once more. You’re almost too busy trying to slip your tongue within the confines of his mouth to notice his right hand slowly descend until it’s resting between your thighs, pushing them apart and you gasp into his mouth.
You feel his mouth quirk into a sly smirk and can’t help but smile too, that is until his fingers slip past the hem of your dress and brush against the cotton of your underwear.
He breaks away and laughs at you when you whimper at the loss of contact. “Don’t frown,” he mumbles, keeping eye contact even as his fingers drag agonizingly slow along your clothed folds and it’s the most sensual thing you might ever experience.
A loud knock on the door quickly interrupts your faintest of moans and you suddenly feel incredibly exposed. “I swear to God, if you two don’t get out of there soon, we’re leaving without you. We’re going home, they ran out of Malibu and that’s apparently the only thing Jaehyun likes!”
You swallow, looking away from the door and back to the panting boy leaning on you, irises blown out and lips pink and plump.
“Do you want to have another sleepover?” He asks quietly and you can’t fight the smile that tugs at your lips.
"Oh my God,” you wake up with a low groan escaping your lips, a headache throbbing painfully in the refines of your skull as soon as you gain consciousness. Is this what a hangover felt like? You sigh, squeezing your eyes to shut out the sunlight. You turn away from that direction only to not-so-gracefully bump into something.
By the entanglement of limbs and bare skin pressed flush against yours, you can only assume something is actually someone and everything from last night crashes back, your headache increasing tenfold. Your eyes are open in a flash, not because you're scared or regretful, but just to make sure you were correct. And safe, not in some stranger’s bed.
Just like last week, Wong Yukhei is beside you, cheeks flushed pink against his warm honey skin and lips pouty as always. Except, this time, he’s awake, lying on his side and staring at you with wide eyes full of something you could only pinpoint as adoration.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he replies, and not until now do you notice his hand on your very, very bare hip. “Do you want something for your headache?” He asks, voice low before leaning inches closer and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, but I can wait—”
You don’t get to finish because he’s already rolling out of bed, taking most of the sheets off of you and you’re left completely naked, forcing you to grasp for the white duvet crumpled at your feet to cover your body.
Except, not that it matters, because he’s incredibly naked too, and you’re amazed at how tall he is when he’s like this, no matter the circumstances. You quickly look away in fear he’d catch you staring, a blush working its way up your cheeks as you suddenly become aware of the pleasantly dull ache throbbing in your abdomen.
He’s back at your side moments later, this time with pineapple print boxers on, holding out a half-full water bottle and two Advil’s. “Thanks,” you sigh, swallowing them quickly.
“This wasn’t just a one and done thing, right?” He asks suddenly, and you look up at him where he’s leaned against his dresser, fingers tapping the edge. You could quite literally cut the tension between the two of you and suddenly want nothing more than going back to sleeping in his arms.
“No! No, I hope not. I mean, unless you want it to, in that case, I’ll go n—”
“No, please don’t go! I just wanted to make sure, in case... in case I completely misread this whole situation,” he sighs in relief, finally moving away from his dresser and rolling back into bed beside you. “Did you mean everything you said last night?” You say quietly once he’s settled and pulled you back against him.
“Of course.”
“Okay,” you let out a sigh of relief, reaching up to play with a strand of his caramel hair. “I’m sorry, too. For when I said this wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t realize that you—you felt something. For me. Which is dumb, because it was kind of obvious. But it’s kind of scary assuming things when it comes to someone who didn't know who you were when you’ve been in love with them for months,” you talk absentmindedly now, not realizing the words are spilling out of your mouth until they’re already out. After all, you were a NCTzen before any of this and there was no way to avoid that when it came to your love for not only him, but the rest of the group.
“I knew who you were,” he laughs above you and you glance up in confusion, quirking an eyebrow. “One of your videos came up on my recommended one day and I was kind of obsessed with you guys since,” he admits and it’s by far the cutest thing you have ever seen.
“No way.”
“I swear on my life,” he grins brightly, wrapping his muscular arms around your back and pulling you up beside him so you were face-to-face. It’s quiet again, and you find yourself once again tracing the outline of his face; his defined eyebrows, big doe eyes, his cheekbones, his chin, his lips—everything.
“What now?”
“Well, we probably should have gone on a few dates first and fallen in love, even though I’m already full of adoration for you already, and then I would’ve asked you to be my girlfriend and then we would’ve had mind-blowing sex. But we kind of went backward and already had the mind-blowing sex, so how about grabbing lunch as our first date? I mean, even though you’re a younger girl.”
You’re grinning like an idiot now and can’t help but kiss him. It’s soft and gentle and sweet and makes everything inside of you warm and fuzzy only because it’s him.
“Okay, I like the sound of that,” you whisper against him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and finally his velvety lips again, “only because I’m full of adoration for you too.”
After all, Wong Yukhei was the warmth you so desperately craved for and needed in your life.
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julesfitnessxo ¡ 7 years ago
Text
Binge Eating Disorder
Growing up, I always interacted with food in a different way to everyone else. I remember even at five, six years old I would always sneak into the kitchen at night whilst my parents watched TV in the sitting room, and devour anything I could from the cupboards. My mum once told me she found me eating spoonfuls of sugar from the bowl- SUGAR. RAW SUGAR. I would eat anything and everything, in large quantities too. I’m not sure if it was the lust for something forbidden that triggered it- I was never, and still aren’t, one for doing what I was told- or if it was just greed. At parties I would always be picking at the food, eating huge portions whilst my friends could subside on a few crisps and a piece of cake. I ate faster and drank faster than other people. I had a massive sweet tooth- chocolate was my favourite thing in the world. I was also a little heavier than the rest of my friends- I was tall, muscly, broader. I have never have a super-thin bone structure. I wasn’t ‘fat’ by any means, but certainly a little larger than everyone else.
This strange relationship with food would follow me my entire life. I began to be able to eat larger and larger quantities, and when I was around twelve, I began bingeing properly. I used to use any spare change I could find to go down to the corner shop when my mum wasn’t home, and buy snacks. I would buy anything, usually huge slabs of chocolate or massive bags of crisps or an entire tub of Ben and Jerrys ice cream. Then I would go home, turn on a movie, and eat the entire thing. I guess it became a comfort thing, a routine. And of course, I began to gain weight. When puberty hit this only got worse. I found I was ravenously hungry all the time, and most of my days were fixated on food. 
I remember hating my body and wanting to lose weight since I was seven. This hatred only grew as I got older, and gained more and more weight. By the age of fifteen I weighed almost 190 pounds. I was around 5′9 at the time, so height contributed to the number, but it was still massively overweight for my age. I would try and diet, but the urge to binge was just to strong to overcome.
I am now 19, and it’s still there. I’m writing this because last night, after a day of reasonably healthy eating, I ate an entire 12 inch pizza and cheesy chips in the space of around five minutes. Not normal, right? It was the first time I’d properly BINGED in a good month or so, as I’ve been eating healthy and exercising a lot recently. And it felt SO GOOD in the moment. I remember literally stuffing the food into my mouth, even though it was boiling hot and burned my tongue and throat, but I just couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t stop. I felt completely out of control- feral, almost, like a wild animal. I’d eaten enough food during the day so it wasn’t as if I’d deprived myself into needing that vast amount of calories. 
That’s what binges feel like. In that moment, it’s just you and the food. Nothing else exists. There is no limit to what you can eat. You literally STUFF the food into your mouth, barely swallowing it, barely even TASTING it. It’s just more and more, more and more, until you can barely breathe you’re so full. But you keep on eating and eating, even when your stomach is SCREAMING in pain, because it feels so good. I’m telling you, it’s the best feeling in the world to me. During a binge, I feel ecstatic. It’s literally like I’m eating away my problems. It’s a release, a form of escapism, sure, but it also feels like a carnal instinct. Like something deep within me is driving me - my brain isn’t really functioning properly, as if it’s been taken over by an outside force. It’s kind of like I’m a different person. 
It’s like the hunger signal to my brain just isn’t there. For example, say you’re having a hang out with a group of friends, and there’s snacks. Everyone will pick at them for a bit, and then just kind of forget that they’re there. Whereas with me, I’m CONSTANTLY thinking about food. I’m constantly picking at the food, even if it’s cold and congealed and disgusting. Food is always on my mind. 
Obviously, I’ve come to release that this pattern of behaviour isn’t normal. I’ve started to do some research about binge eating, and I’ve come to these conclusions.
1. MY RELATIONSHIP WITH FOOD IS SOME FORM OF ADDICTION: Addiction runs in my family. On my dad’s side, almost every family member is addicted to alcohol. My aunt actually passed away from alcoholism.  I’m not - and hopefully never will be- but I do believe I have inherited that ‘addiction gene’, if such a thing exists. My addiction is food. Food is more than just something nice or pleasing to me- it is EVERYTHING. I think about it all the time. I guess I could compare myself to the way a heroin addict acts- sacrificing everything just to get that next hit, that next rush, that next binge for me. Also, from observing my one family and also the actions of others with addiction, it is something that is done very secretly. For example my dad drinks and suffers with alcohol addiction, and so when he drinks he drinks secretly. I think a huge part of this is shame, and embarrassment- shame for being so dependant on drink. For me when I binge, I always binge alone. I would never dream of consuming food the way I do during a binge in front of other people. I eat alone out of shame and embarrassment too, shame for consuming such high quantities. So, I guess I could consider myself an addict in some way. There are certainly more dangerous things to be addicted to than food, however this does not mean that this addiction is any less valid or important.
2. THE DESIRE TO BINGE CAN COME FROM ANYWHERE: A lot of therapists claim that people who suffer with eating disorders do so because of emotional issues and trauma in their past/present of some kind- with a lot of disorders such as anorexia, it’s more of a form of control than about weight loss, or about food. 
Binge eating disorder, however, is slightly more complex than that. I don’t necessarily believe that my desire to binge stems from a past/present emotional trauma, nor do I believe I always use bingeing as a coping mechanism, like to cope with issues I have in my life. Sometimes, yes, after a shit day I am more likely to binge than if I had had a great one. However, most of them, they seem more of a carnal instinct, something that I’ve always had in my brain. It’s not about control for me, either- the entire thing is feeling out of control. Bingeing is definitely a form of release and escapism, yes, (at least it is for me), but I don’t know, it seems more mechanical than emotional, if that makes any sort of sense. 
3. I DO HAVE AN EATING DISORDER: It took me a long time to recognise binge eating disorder as a ‘real’ eating disorder. My mum had always just told me I ate a lot simply because I was ‘greedy’, however I don’t agree. Just because anorexia and bulimia are the most ‘publicised’ and well-known eating disorders, doesn’t mean others don’t exist. Technically, I have suffered from an eating disorder for almost all my life, I just haven’t realised it. So that means I can apply terms like ‘relapse’ and ‘recovery’ to my own life. I have gone through several stages of relapse, several short periods of recovery. Now, I want to recover for good. 
Recovery seems completely impossible for me at this point. Maybe I’ll never be completely recovered, maybe I’ll always have this disorder. I’m not even sure if the point of recovery is to reach the point where the urge to binge just doesn’t exist within me anymore, or to reach the point where it’s there, but I can control it for the most part. 
All I know is today marks the first date in my ‘road to recovery’- as disgustingly cliche as that may sound. I’m sharing my story on here firstly because I hope it’ll keep me more accountable, and secondly because binge eating disorder is an incredibly isolating thing. I don’t know anyone else in my friendship circle who has this- no one. When I began to research it though, I read articles and watched videos from people- some of them celebrities- who suffer too, and I don’t know, I guess it just made me feel less alone, and more validated. I hope this ‘diary’ I guess, I don’t know exactly what to call it- account?- makes somebody out there feel less alone too. 
So, here goes. 
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