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back-and-totheleft · 1 year ago

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Sixty Years After JFK’s Assassination, Oliver Stone Reflects The director of “JFK” on the Kennedy cover-up, why he was killed, and what the country—and the world—suffered as a result.

When French filmmaker Jean Renoir was asked if film can change the world, he is said to have replied, “In 1937 I directed the anti-war film ‘La Grande Illusion.’ In 1939, World War II started.”

Be that as it may, three-time Oscar winner Oliver Stone has at least changed America through his filmmaking. “Oliver Stone was probably the most important figure in getting the declassification process started,” says James DiEugenio, author of 2016’s “The JFK Assassination.” “By creating a media sensation in 1991 even before his film came out, [he] caused outrage and forced Congress to create a declassification board. That had never been done before or since.”

During the 1980s, Stone experienced meteoric and controversial career success in Hollywood by challenging entrenched national narratives. Stone, a Purple Heart-winning Vietnam veteran, directed the antiwar masterpieces “Platoon” (Best Picture and Best Director Oscars, 1986) and “Born on the Fourth of July” (Best Director, 1989); tackled U.S. intervention in Central America with “Salvador” (1986); excoriated finance and big business in “Wall Street” (1987); and warned against rightwing fanaticism in “Talk Radio” (1988).

In 1991, he blew the roof off the official version of the Kennedy killing with his three-hour and nine-minute tour de force, “JFK,” which earned Stone the scorn of the powers-that-be and their media minions. In 2022, the keeper of Camelot’s flame returned to the cinematic scene of the crime with two documentaries, “JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass” and the four-part “JFK: Destiny Betrayed.” The meticulously detailed docs, totaling nearly six hours, take viewers down multiple Kennedy liquidation rabbit holes, elaborating upon and rendering in nonfiction format the theories Stone dramatized 30 years earlier in “JFK.” Only this time, he had more to work with: Both documentaries included new information that had become available through a declassification process that Stone did much to accelerate.

In this candid conversation, Stone holds forth on where the Kennedy case stands on the 60th anniversary of that murder most foul in Dallas; who he believes was behind the murder; why JFK had to be eliminated; the Cuba connection; the Oswald enigma; the news media’s pillorying of him for daring to expose the Warren Commission’s “coverup”; U.S. imperialism and endless wars; and much more. I interviewed the director in L.A. via Zoom, beginning with that question commonly posed to those who were alive on Nov. 22, 1963. The manuscript has been slightly edited for length and clarity.

Truthdig: Where were you and what were you doing when you heard JFK was shot?

OLIVER STONE: I was in boarding school, the Hill School in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. Nothing special — the whole school was shocked. We sat through that whole weekend around TV sets. And like all the rest of America, followed it up through the funeral on Monday.

Truthdig: 1991’s “JFK” is one of those rare movies that directly led to change in the real world and legislation. You testified before Congress and the President John F. Kennedy Assassination Records Collection Act was passed [in 1992]. How many documents have been released and how many remain classified?

For the exact numbers, I refer you to Jim DiEugenio [the screenwriter for Stone’s 2022 documentaries “JFK Revisited” and “JFK: Destiny Betrayed”]. They were blocked by Biden and Trump. They released a few more documents under Biden, then he closed it down. He went against the spirit of the law totally. It’s bizarre, considering Biden’s a Catholic Democratic president, but he’s the complete opposite spirit of Kennedy.

[Editor’s note: In a follow-up email, DiEugenio said that the ARRB has declassified about 60,000 documents totaling two million pages.]

Truthdig: On the 60th anniversary of JFK’s assassination, let’s revisit the big question posed by Donald Sutherland’s character, Mr. X, in “JFK”: “Why was Kennedy eliminated?”

In “JFK Revisited,” we posited that it was because he was changing the world too fast. Not only in all his foreign policy, but basically everything except civil rights was moving in a certain direction that was not popular with the people who run the country. That’s why he was killed. The other thing Kennedy was doing, clearly, was pulling out of Vietnam. Which is a side affair in the sense that it had not grown into the war it was going to become. But people who say, like Richard Nixon, that Kennedy sent the first combat troops to Vietnam, it’s bullshit. He sent advisers. Several hundred died, because they got over-involved and they were killed or accidents happened, but he never sent combat troops and he always made that specific denial of [requests for] combat troops. As he himself said, I’m paraphrasing, “Why, if I’m not willing to go into Cuba, which is 90 miles away, would I go into Vietnam, which is 6,000 miles away?” That’s a very important quote, in my opinion.

Also, he was a big threat because he was going to be up for reelection, a very popular president, young, who’d certainly be around many more years. His brother was ready to possibly succeed him in ’68 and there was another brother, too, don’t forget, who’s coming along. So, it was a threat of another Roosevelt-type of dynasty. I say “dynasty,” because Roosevelt was four terms and that left a major scar on the country. You have no idea of the animosity against Roosevelt. I think you could say it was similar to what’s going on now, in the sense that there’s a great division. Certainly, there was a lot of anti-Roosevelt feeling, but he carried the day with his legislation, of course, and he was trying to pack the Supreme Court; there were all kinds of battles. Kennedy had the same kind of thing going on. And it was fresh in their memories at that time. It had only been 20 years since Roosevelt. It was very vivid to them.

There was a lot of anger at the top against Kennedy. In our documentary, we talk about him wanting to end the Cold War. That was clear from his intentions. From his peace speech at American University, which is too often ignored, to his reaching out to [Soviet leader Nikita] Khruschev during the Missile Crisis, establishing a relationship. Also, his reaction to Bay of Pigs; it was clear there was a consensus by the military and the CIA to go into Cuba to attack Castro and get rid of him. And when he refused to go in at the Bay of Pigs that was very bad for them.

Number two: When he refused to go in when the Russians put missiles there, it was like signing his death warrant. It was clear to many people that we were not going to solve the “Cuba problem” with him. Although he was making steps to appease the anti-Castro group with his “Operation Mongoose,” there was no teeth in it, really. It was a public relations move to keep them off his back. The truth was he was trying to negotiate with Castro, and he sent Bill Attwood and Lisa Howard to begin that process. He made many statements to the effect that he understood the Cuban Revolution, understood what they were fighting for and had been against. He understood that very clearly in so many of his statements. And especially in his Alliance for Progress with Latin America, he understood the nature of the poverty of the region and the need for reform.

Everything was economic, as opposed to military. The Eisenhower-Dulles regime — and, I would say [Lyndon B. Johnson] regime — didn’t give a shit about improving the lives of Africans or Latin Americans or Indonesians. They gave a shit about stopping the Soviet infiltration of liberation movements.

Truthdig: Let’s talk about the Cuba connections that you go into in “Destiny Betrayed.” Tell us about Oswald and the Fair Play for Cuba Committee and his purported trips to the Cuban and Soviet consulates in Mexico City.

I know there’s quite a significant number of documents about the CIA [that have not been declassified]. And there are a lot of questions we have about the Cuba operation [including related operatives] David Atlee Phillips; William Harvey, who was very much involved, I believe; and George Joannides. Joannides appears twice before the House Select Committee on Assassinations in the 1970s, where the CIA lies and says he had no involvement in Cuba, and he had all the involvement in the world. In addition, there’s this fellow [David Sanchez] Morales, who bothers me; he’s one of the black ops guys Phillips would use. Morales was a stone-cold killer and very much could have been involved with the shooting [of Kennedy]. But he was a Cuban.

Their hatred for Kennedy was shown in my “JFK” film, when you felt the hatred of David Ferrie [played by Joe Pesci] and the other Cuban operatives in the movie that were talking about Kennedy. It was visceral, from the gut. They thought he was a traitor. In “JFK Revisited,” you hear the story about the Secret Service guy, Elmer Moore, who shuts up Malcolm Perry, the first doctor who sees the wound coming from the front. By the second day, he’s scared off the case by Moore, who tells a witness, “Kennedy was a traitor.” They really felt that in the true believer corps.

You have to understand, “traitor” is a big word. It’s still used today, but in the 1960s it had a stronger implication. I’ve been called that too, by the way [laughs], just for having an interview with Putin [2017’s four-episode “The Putin Interviews” for Showtime].

Truthdig: Let’s talk about Oswald’s Fair Play for Cuba Committee connection.

The whole Oswald saga is unbelievable, when you get into it. And you have to get into it — and we did in both documentaries, “Destiny Betrayed” and “JFK Revisited.” Even before he went to Russia, when he was in the Marine Corps, he seemed to be cooperative with intelligence agencies. He studied Russian, he was a radar operator, he went to Russia. He was basically sent to Russia as an observer, as a spy, because we didn’t have very good on the ground [human intel] — we had satellites, we had U-2s. We could see them, but we couldn’t really tell what was happening on the ground. We needed operatives there. People like Oswald fit the profile of a “defector,” which is what he was created to be.

If you talk to [historian] John Newman and look at the [ARRB] Records, we know that James Angleton, the counterintelligence chief of the CIA, had a file on Oswald from 1959. So, Oswald goes to Russia, Angleton keeps the file secret; there’s a dummy file, but Angleton has all the information. Angleton also is implicitly involved in this thing — because he knows the identity of Oswald. Who he really is. How can a guy go to Russia, give away all of our secrets, so to speak, come back from Russia, and never be debriefed? It’s a strange, strange story.

Also, he’s implanted in the Dallas community with the “White Russians,” with George de Mohrenschildt. He has contacts all along the way in New Orleans, and Dallas, with FBI agents and people like de Mohrenschildt, who is a cooperative agent of the CIA, who kills himself before he’s supposed to testify before the House Assassinations Committee in 1977. Also, he’s in New Orleans: that whole Clay Shaw story is bizarre. After the film, it comes out that Richard Helms — who was the deputy at one point to Dulles and ended up running the CIA — was lying about the identity of not only Oswald, but of Clay Shaw. And he admitted he was an agent of the CIA.

Truthdig: Do you believe Oswald went to the Cuban and Soviet consulates in Mexico City?

I don’t know the answer to that. It’s so confusing. It seems that if he did go to Mexico, it was a setup to establish his bona fides as a Castro agent. I think the idea behind it was that Castro was [supposed to be made to look like] the assassin of Kennedy. Many people felt that he was responding to the attacks on Cuba by going after Kennedy. But Dulles, who was on the Warren Commission, never told any of his colleagues about the Cuba operation, not one word about trying to assassinate Castro. So, they were truly in the dark. But that was seen as a motive — that Castro had come back and struck the United States to create a war.

There’s no question the Cuba operation is the key. That is where these principals all operate, the desire to kill grows out of Cuba. But it’s a much bigger issue of his changing everything. His relationships with the Middle East, with Latin America, with Sukarno in Indonesia, which is the richest country in Southeast Asia, and his involvement with Vietnam.

He backed out of Laos, he did [there] what he wanted to do in Vietnam, he created the idea of a neutral government in Laos. I remember vividly [that] there was a specter of war and we settled for neutrality. Well, that pissed off a lot of people. They wanted to fight for Laos. The same was true in Vietnam. I think Robert Kennedy said later, “We would have fudged it. We would have gotten out of there. Then we would have fudged it with a demand for neutrality.”

But that was not the major issue. The major issue was Cuba.

Truthdig: The Warren Commission, of course, claimed that Oswald was the lone gunman, firing from the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository Building. How was the shooting actually carried out and was Oswald even one of the shooters?

No, I don’t believe he was. We presented evidence in the new film [“JFK: Destiny Betrayed”] that is very hard to deny. Those two women on the fourth floor had started down the stairs for the first floor to see what was going on. And they did not see Oswald on the stairs. Within a minute they were downstairs. So, there’s no way Oswald could have stashed the rifle up on the sixth floor, done all the things he did, run across the floor, which was filled with cartons and come down those stairs in that time period.

In addition, the third woman [Dorothy Garner] appeared in front of the Assassinations Records Review Board and again corroborated what the two other women said. She stood there, the two women go down the stairs and she did not see anybody else coming down those stairs. Those three women, who were disinterested, neutral observers, did not see any sign of somebody coming from the sixth floor.

Truthdig: Did the Warren Commission Report quote them saying that?

No. They changed their testimony. The Warren Commission is a farce from beginning to end. They were not interested in getting the truth. They were interested in covering it up. Johnson told Earl Warren, “Be careful, don’t go there — this thing is bigger than you think.” And, I’m paraphrasing, “This could lead to World War III.”

Truthdig: Let’s talk about some of the people you bring up in your documentaries you think may have been implicated in the assassination, such as [Air Force] General Curtis LeMay.

We don’t point the finger at LeMay, exactly, but certainly his behavior is very strange. He lies about his presence in Washington on the day of Kennedy’s autopsy, the 22nd. He flies into another airport. He doesn’t follow orders. Shows up at the autopsy. He’s seen by one of the people at the autopsy, smoking a cigar in the gallery, watching. Very public; it was like a circus. Military people were in charge, and perhaps LeMay was there as part of a reinforcement of the military brass.

This was a shoddy autopsy. A very badly done autopsy by amateurs. You’d give a bum who is a murder victim far more attention. The real autopsy should have taken place in Dallas. Malcolm Perry and the supervising surgeon there were much better qualified to do that. These three guys who did the autopsy had never worked with murder cases or double shooters or multiple bullets. These guys were Navy corpsmen.

Truthdig: What do you think was LBJ’s involvement?

I don’t believe he was involved. I never have and I have never said so. I do believe that he’s involved in the coverup, after the fact. I think he knew, more or less, what was going on. It’s very bizarre to me that he appoints Allen Dulles [who JFK forced to resign as CIA director after the Bay of Pigs debacle in 1961] to the Warren Commission. Dulles is the only one who shows up at every Warren Commission meeting. He’s the most interested in the case, he follows all of the details, more so than anybody else. It’s bizarre.

[Editor’s note: In 1996, CIA operative E. Howard Hunt, in a deathbed confession as cancer took him down, named David Atlee Phillips and David Morales as two of the main CIA participants in the JFK liquidation. Hunt also fingered LBJ as the kingpin behind it.]

Johnson knew he had to change the Kennedy policies. And that’s what he did, except for civil rights. He changed everything on foreign policy. He changed the Latin American policy, the African policy, the Indonesian policy, the Vietnam policy [laughs], across the board. We found the transcript where he speaks to [Defense Secretary Robert ] McNamara. You heard it in the film [“JFK: Destiny Betrayed”], where he says, “You know I was never for this withdrawal [from Vietnam],” something to that effect.

Truthdig: You appear in the upcoming series “Four Died Trying,” directed by John Kirby. It’s a multi-part series premiering Nov. 22 about the assassinations of JFK, Malcolm X, MLK and Bobby Kennedy. Do you think those four assassinations are all connected?

I don’t know about Malcolm, because I don’t think he had power, except as a symbol. I do think the other three, yes — they’re all connected.

Truthdig: There’s also an upcoming series about the making of “JFK” called “Citizen Stone.” In that series by Kristian Fraga, the press release contends: “The campaign against “JFK” tarnished Oliver Stone’s reputation in the United States and forever altered the trajectory of his career.” Do you feel, as they seem to be contending, that you took such a beating after “JFK” that you began to pull your punches?

It didn’t stop me. I kept doing the kind of films I do, as recently as the Edward Snowden film, which nobody seems to respond to.

Our country changed radically after 2000 — more conservative, more prone to militarism. So, there is a change in America. I can say from 1992 to 2000 it was no fun [laughs]. I think people recognize the filmmaking power of [“JFK”], but there was so much antagonism from the establishment that it undermined a lot. I was a heroic figure, given that I’d explored the Vietnam War, Wall Street. I was known as a maverick. After that, it was more like I became “anti-American.” That’s where they tried to place me. I am not “anti-American.” On the contrary, I’m very pro-American and I want America to be the country I grew up in and I want it be a good country. That’s why I’m fighting.

But it’s a rap that they manage. If you look at the media response, most of the media seems to be controlled by the CIA. Frankly, all major media laugh at the idea of a conspiracy, as if it’s an amateur joke. It’s not. Conspiracies exist all through history. We see it again and again and again. Why should America be different?

Truthdig: Thankfully we have you for a counter-narrative.

Among others. But listen, I can’t do this full time. I’m not an activist. I set out to be a dramatist. Unfortunately, I’ve gotten thrown into this mess. It hasn’t helped my standing. People have tried to make me out to be a lunatic. Like [New Orleans District Attorney] Jim Garrison. It’s no fun. And it hurts my career, yes. Certainly, I could have done better, made more money, been offered different things. It’s especially dangerous now, after “Snowden,” after doing documentaries on Castro, [Hugo] Chavez and Putin, for the benefit of the American people, for the benefit of us knowing who these people are. I am shocked that we are so ignorant and remain resistant to the idea of talking to people.

We don’t even talk to the Russians, which is ridiculous. Here we are, facing our supposed enemy, and we’re not even talking to them. And we’re going to war with them in a proxy war. As close to war as you can get. It’s insane. It’s an insane foreign policy. Here’s Biden, the opposite of Kennedy, carrying on as if the Russians are our enemies. He calls the Russians “thugs,” before he’s elected. It’s like Joe McCarthy is running for president. What kind of leadership is that? Where’s the wisdom?

Truthdig: How would America have been different if Kennedy hadn’t been shot and served out two full terms?

First of all, we wouldn’t have been in the Vietnam War. We would have been led to a path of peace and cooperation with the world. We didn’t have to fight any of those wars — any of them! We could have made a deal with Iran, but we subverted their democracy in the ’50s. Then we go to war with them, we go to war with Iraq, we go to war with nobodies. We win these wars and think we’re great, we think we’re a great, great country. We’re fighting small wars with a huge amount of money and weaponry. And we call ourselves heroic. It’s not heroic. We’re going to end up in a shithole.

-Truthdig, "Sixty Years After JFK’s Assassination, Oliver Stone Reflects," Nov 21 2023

#oliver stone #jfk #jfk assassination #lee harvey oswald #truthdig #anniversary

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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Bagels and Bites

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Synopsis: Sebastian likes to flirt with you in interviews

Masterlist

It all started when you met him on The Late Late Show.

“How are you all feeling tonight?” James asked you and Sebastian Stan as you sat on the guest couch.

“I’m excited.” You beamed as Sebastian rested his arm on the couch behind you.

“So am I. We should probably talk about this later,” Sebastian smiled directly at you, “but we’ve been wanting to meet each other for a long time.”

“Have you?” James chuckled.

“No.” You laughed and playfully hit Sebastian in the chest. “We had one interaction on Twitter and he thinks there’s something between us.”

“It was a very flirty interaction.” Sebastian clarified. “There were sparks flying all over those tweets.”

“So this is your first time actually meeting?” James asked. “Even though you’re in the marvel movies together?”

“It’s weird. I haven’t met half the cast.” You shrugged. “I’ll meet everyone else once the press tour starts but so far I’ve only met the people I’ve filmed with. Just Chris, and Chris, and um, oh yeah. Chris.”

You looked down and smiled to yourself when you heard Sebastian laughing at your joke. Even though you’d never met him, you’d always liked him. It was a well known secret on the Internet that you were his celebrity crush, since he was so inclined on bringing it up in almost every interview of his. Being face to face for the first time now, you were feeling a little intoxicated from his charm. Well, his charm and the white wine you’d been sipping on.

“I hope they stop putting me with Mackie and start putting me with Y/n once this press tour starts.” Sebastian said after taking a sip of his wine. “I love him but I can’t keep babysitting him at 8 in the morning. I’d like to wake up to someone who looks a little more like this one.”

“I know what you mean.” You agreed. “He would show up to set every morning all ready to go and I’m like dude, give me a few hours for my personality to arrive.”

“I was so mad that he got to film with you and I didn’t.” Sebastian shook his head. “We finally get cast in a movie together and we’re never in the same scene.”

“Well,” you put your hand on his knee and patted it, “we’re meeting now. Lucky you.”

“Yeah.” He smirked at you. “Lucky me.”

“Now, Sebastian.” James reminded you both that he was there. “I heard a rumor that you have a little crush on Y/n.”

“Well, I try not to pay attention to rumors.” Sebastian waved his hand. “But that ones pretty accurate.”

“Oh my God.” You put your hand over your heart, which was about to beat out of your chest, and laughed.

“It’s true. I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I feel like I’ve seen you all my life. And here you are in person and you look so great.” Sebastian said through a shy smile. You laughed in shock at his compliment and looked down at your lap.

“You’re fully going for it.” James laughed at how bold Sebastian was being.

“You’re not being a very good wingman.” You teased James as you took a long sip of your drink. The more alcohol you had in you, the easier it would be to flirt with the incredible attractive man next to you.

“I was never known for that.” James agreed. “But I heard your brother is a pretty good one, isn’t he?”

“Oh My God.” You groaned, knowing exactly what James was referring to. “He’s not.”

“What happened?” Sebastian wondered, never taking his eyes off you.

“I took my brother to the Oscars with me last year and we happened to be sitting next to Jake Gyllenhaal.” You explained. “And the whole night, he’s telling Jake about how I used to be in love with him when I was a kid. If there weren’t a bunch of cameras around us, I would’ve rung his neck.”

“So I’m assuming you and Jake aren’t the next celebrity power couple?” James teased.

“We are not.” You shook your head. “I can confidently say that I was still single.”

“I was just gonna and say, there’s still hope for us.” Sebastian gestured between the two of you. You opened your mouth in shock before biting down on your tongue. You playfully hit Sebastian again, signally that you were just as interested as he was.

“You’re really going for it.” James pointed out. “I must say, wow.”

“Why not?” Sebastian grinned. “This is the time.”

“You are pretty cute, I just wanna say.” You flirted back for the hell of it. Sebastian laughed in surprise before covering his face with his hands. You laughed as well as he hunched over to hide his face.

“He’s actually gone red now!” James pointed at him. “He was so sure of himself and now he’s all red.”

“Leave him alone.” You pouted as you rubbed Sebastians back. Sebastian sat back up and rubbed his face with his hands.

“Yeah.” Sebastian said assertively as he wrapped an arm around you. “Leave me alone. I’m trying to flirt here.”

“How would you ask her on a date, then?” James asked. “Since you’re so in love with her.”

“Like this.” Sebastian said as he turned to you “Ce faci?”

“Would you bite me in the neck?” You asked, catching him completely off guard. He took his arm away and laughed in shock at your words.

“Oh my God.” He chuckled as he looked around in embarrassment. Suddenly, he turned back to you and cupped one side of your face, tilting your neck slightly with his hand. He bit down on your exposed neck, making the audience erupt in a series of laughter and gasps. You giggled when you felt his scruff tickling your neck and made no effort to push him off.

“He actually did it.” James looked at the audience to see if they were seeing what he was.

“She asked me to.” Sebastian rolled his eyes playfully. His arm was still around you and neither of you wanted it off.

“It was a hypothetical but I guess I know my answer.” You shrugged as you leaned back on the couch.

“Why would you ask him that?” James wondered.

“Like a vampire.” You explained. “Aren’t vampires from Romania?”

“That’s Transylvania.” Sebastian smiled fondly at you.

“Oh.” You realized. “I still liked it.”

“I’ll do it again later.” Sebastian shrugged, making your hide your face in embarrassment.

“Promise?” You said suddenly as you put your hand back on his knee. It was Sebastians turn to be baffled as he put his free hand on tops of yours.

“Darling.” He choked out, too stunned to form a full sentence.

“This has been an intense experience.” James fans himself with his cards. “What will the two of you do after the show?”

“I’ll probably go home, order a pizza, and pass out while watching all of Sebastian’s episodes of Once Upon a Time.” You joked.

“I was going to do the exact same thing.” Sebastian nodded. “Right after I got a job as a pizza delivery boy so I can go to Y/n’s house.”

“Or you could just come over.” You shrugged, making Sebastian blush.

“I like that idea too.” Sebastian replied.

“I’m trying to imagine what the poor pizza delivery boy is gonna see when he arrives at Y/n’s house later.” James grimaced, making the audience laugh.

“I know, right? They open the door and this is what the get.” Sebastian gestured to you. “It’s you. How lucky they are.”

You leaned into him as you laughed, the alcohol making you feel bolder than usual. You’d never be this flirty with a man you’d just met, but he made it too easy.

The rest of the interview continued in a similar fashion, with you and Sebastian unapologetically flirting with each other every chance you got. By the end of the interview, you were so close that your knees were touching. When it came time to say goodbye, you felt an unexpected pane of sadness.

“Well, thank you both for coming on the show tonight.” James smiled. “I hope I’ll be invited to the wedding.”

“You will. And I wanted to thank you. For this.” Sebastian said as he slipped his fingers through yours and held up your hands. You beamed and squeezed his hand, fully tipsy now the the interview was over.

After thanking James and drinking another glass of wine, you drunkenly pulled Sebastian off the couch.

“Come in the photo booth with me.” You giggled as you tugged him by the hand towards the booth.

“Okay.” He grinned as he climbed inside. He pulled you into his lap and pressed the button before wrapping his arms around your waist. The pictures began to snap away and you posed for all of them. For the first, you just held each other close and smiled. For the second, he leaned up to kiss your cheek. And for the third, he took another bite of your neck.

“That tickles.” You giggled as the camera flashed.

“Good.” He smirked against your skin before pressing a kiss there.

“Stick your tongue out.” You told him, and he obliged. You licked his tongue as the fourth picture was taken, capturing the drunken moment. The fifth flash went off right as Sebastian connected your lips to his. You continued to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his lips and tongue.

“Oh my God.” You pulled away suddenly. “I have to pee.”

You got off his lap and ran to the restroom, leaving him alone in the photo booth.

The next time you saw Sebastian, neither of you brought the kiss up. Whether you thought the other was too drunk to remember or you were simply too embarrassed to bring it up, it was not mentioned.

The flirting, however, the flirting continued.

“What would you like to see for your characters in the next movies?” The journalist asked you and Sebastian as you sat together in a press junket.

“For our characters specifically, I’d like to see some graphic love making.” Sebastian said seriously. “I think that that’s something the movies have been lacking.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed and shook your head. “Me too, actually. I think it would be really in character and important to the plot.”

“How would that benefit the plot?” The journalist asked.

“It’s simple. I would just change my name to “the plot” and bam.” Sebastian clapped his hands. “I’m benefited.”

“He’s such a flirt.” You said as you rested your elbow on his shoulder. “Can you believe him?”

“I can’t.” The journalist chuckled.

“You know what I’d like to see? Some method acting. Why can’t you be as quiet as Bucky?” You teased Sebastian as you flicked his ear.

“How would I tell you how pretty you are if I wasn’t speaking?” He flirted back.

“This is what I have to put up with.” You shook your head as looked at the camera. “What about you? What do you want to see from our characters?”

“I would like to see Bucky do the knife trick some more.” The journalist answered you.

“What knife trick?” You wondered.

“It’s the thing he does when he flips his knife around and stabs people.” Sebastian explained as he moved his hand in a circle. “It took me forever to learn.”

“Wait, I wanna see it.” You smiled excitedly and turned to him.

“No, no.” He wagged his finger at you. “I’m not doing the knife trick.”

“Please?” You pouted. “For me?”

“All right, all right.” Sebastian broke into a grin. “I’m only doing this because you asked nicely.”

The journalist handed him a pen and he easily flipped it around and caught it before making a stabbing motion. You let out a gasp and stared at him in shock for a long time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you.

“I wanna to fuck you, that’s what’s wrong.” You replied. “Can you do it again?”

Sebastian laughed at your joke as his face heated up. He knew that was just the way you two liked to tease each other, but it didn’t mean it didn’t make him smile.

“I’ll do it again.” He nodded as picked the pen back up. “Anything for you.”

On a day where the interviews ended early, you spent the night in Sebastians hotel room, getting drunk on his balcony.

“What about you?” Sebastian asked as he took a sip of his beer. “What was your best kissing scene? I know you’ve kissed some pretty great actors. Might be hard to pick.”

“It’s not. I hate kissing actors.” You grimaced. “It’s not even kissing. It’s just like, limp lips on limp lips. There’s no passion when it’s for a scene. I hate it.”

“Maybe you’re just kissing the wrong actors.” Sebastian shrugged playfully as he gazed at you.

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. “I’ve never felt anything when kissing another actor. You can’t tell me you do.”

“I do.” He shrugged again. “Its not much, but I wouldn’t say it’s nothing.”

“What? How?” You wondered. “If you kissed me right now, you wouldn’t feel anything. I guarantee it.”

“I think I would.” Sebastian disagreed.

“All right.” You turned your chair a little to face him. “Prove me wrong.”

Sebastian tweaked an eyebrow up before leaning in to kiss you. You kissed him back for a few seconds before pulling away. You looked past him for a minute as you mulled the moment over in your head.

“What’s the matter?” He asked quietly.

“I was incorrect.” You chuckled a little. “I guess I did feel something.”

“I told you you would.” He said smugly. “I knew you’d feel something.”

“How’d you know?” You whined as he basked in the glory of being right.

“Because I felt something the last time we kissed.” He said simply. “And I knew you did too.”

“I didn’t realize you remembered that.” You smirked before talking a sip from his beer.

“Course I do.” He replied. “I think about that night all the time. It was the start of a beautiful, sexually frustrating friendship.”

“Oh, I’m sexually frustrating?” You laughed. “Try being your friend. It’s hard to look at you, really.”

“That’s not how I feel about you.” He smiled a little. “I really, really like looking at you.”

“I like you too.” You smiled back.

“That’s not what I said.” He teased. You dropped your jaw and stole his beer again, taking a long sip as you held eye contact.

“It’s what you meant.” You stuck your tongue out at him. You sat in comfortable silence for a minute, listening to the chirps of the crickets as a warm breeze wafted through the air.

“The press tour is ending soon.” You said quietly as you adverted your eyes. “Tomorrow’s the premier. Then, it’s all over.”

“I know.” He said softly. You looked at him and gave him a sad smile, to which he returned.

“We won’t get to see each other every day anymore.” You pointed out.

“Then we better make tomorrow count.” He said simply. He knew what you were implying, that there was no point in starting something when you’d both been going home soon, but he didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to enjoy his last few days with you.

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly and looked away again. “We better.”

The following night at the premier, you felt an overwhelming sadness knowing that it was all ending. You loved the weeks you’d spent goofing off with Sebastian, even if it never led to a real relationship. It still meant something to you, and you hoped it meant something to him.

To counteract your sadness, you sat with Chris Evans at the bar and let him distract you. After spending a minute with him, you were feeling drunk and ready to find Sebastian. You spotted him on the red carpet, fixed your dress, and went up to him.

“Hi.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You smiled up at him as he wrapped an arm around you, taking an usually loud whiff of his cologne.

“Hey.” He chuckled as he patted your back. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good.” You said as you swayed a little. “Question, is there alcohol in a Shirley Temple? Because I feel like I’ve had alcohol.”

“There is.” He laughed again and steadied you. “Did you know that?”

“Nope.” You sniffed him again. “You smell good.”

“Oh no.” He smiled as your behavior. “How many did you have?”

“I was having a contest with Evans to see who could drink more. I had like 5.” You bragged as you almost fell over.

“Oh dear.” He quickly caught you. “You’re staying with me tonight. I don’t trust drunk you.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to babysit me.” You waved your hand and tried to walk away. You instantly stumbled and neatly fell, but Sebastian wrapped his arms around you and caught you.

“I think I do.” He chuckled as you put you on your feet. “Come on. You’re sticking with me.”

The next morning, you woke up with a throbbing headache. Not feeling the strength to sit up, you opened a single eye and looked around. You were definitely not in your own room, but you recognized who’s room you were in.

“Good morning.” Sebastians voice was usually loud, making you wince.

“Oh God.” You groaned as you sat up. You groggily opened your eyes as Sebastian handed you a cup of coffee.

“Here.” He smiled shyly. “How’s the head?”

“The head is in pain.” You groaned. “So is the rest of the body.”

“Here. Drink this.” He held out a glass of water and some Advil. “And take these.”

“Thanks.” You smiled sheepishly as you accepted his offerings.

“Did you at least win the drinking contest?” He asked as he took a seat on the bed. You took a long sip of water and swallowed the pills before answering his questions.

“I did.” You nodded. “But at what cost?”

“You’ll start to feel better once you get some food in you.” Sebastian said as he rubbed your shoulder. You put your hand over his and stared at him, feeling the guilt set in.

“I’m sorry I got drunk.” You mumbled. “I didn’t mean to ruin the last night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Sebastian shook his head. “Trust me, we still had fun. I’m not sure how much you remember though.”

“I remember sitting with you at the premier.” You recalled. “And eating many, many bagels.”

“Yeah, we stopped at a bakery.” He chuckled. “You ate a dozen. I watched it all.”

“Oh God.” You covered your face with your hands. “That’s not how I wanted to spend our last night together.”

“How did you want to spend it together?” He asked quietly.

“Probably in a way that still ended with me waking up in your bed.” You joked like you usually did. “But I could do without the part where you watched me eat 12 bagels.”

“What do you mean?” He grinned. “That was the best part.”

“How’d I end up in your bed anyway?” You asked before taking another sip of coffee.

“You threw your key card at a seagull who was eyeing your bagel.” He explained. “You couldn’t get into your room so I let your crash in mine.”

You looked around the room and saw his pull out couch was topped with pillows and sheets, evidence of him sleeping there.

“Did you sleep on the pull out?” You pointed to it in disbelief.

“Of course I did.” He shrugged.

“Such a gentleman.” You scrunched your nose at him before finishing the coffee.

“Basic human decency is not exactly being a gentleman.” He pointed out.

“Maybe not.” You agreed. “But you still are one. You prove that to me everyday.”

“That must be why you like me so much.” He teased.

“Must be.” You dished it right back. Sebastians smile fell suddenly as he got a serious look on his face.

“I think you and I need to have a talk.” He said softly.

“Oh God.” You feared. “Did I puke on you last night?”

“No.” He chuckled. “It’s not about last night.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“As much as I love flirting with you, and I do, I think you should know it’s not just a joke to me.” He began. “And I wanted to know if it was just a joke to you or if-“

“It’s not.” You said a little too quickly, which made him smile. “I...I like you. A lot, actually. One might even call it love.”

Upon hearing this, Sebastian leaned forward to kiss you. You held a hand to stop him and gave him an apologetic look.

“I wouldn’t.” You grimaced. “My morning breath is-“

“-something I could get used to.” He cut you off before going in for the kiss. You immediately kissed him back, pulling him by his shirt to have him closer. He climbed over you as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I don’t care if its our last day.” He mumbled against your lips. “I want to do this for real. I wanna be with you.”

You kissed him back to tell him you felt the same way, not trusting yourself to say something smooth in the heat of the moment.

“Wait.” You pushed him back suddenly and held him away from you.

“Whats wrong?” He asked as he hovered over you.

“Can we get bagels after this?” You asked seriously before breaking into a smile.

“I seriously can’t stand you.” He said before leaning down to kiss you again. “You’re lucky I love you because I don’t like you at all.”

“12 wasn’t enough.” You giggled between kisses. “I need more. I crave them. I crave the yeast.”

Sebastian stopped kissing you for a moment and looked at you with a fond expression. You stared back at him as a content smile tugged at your lips. The flirting had finally lead to something more and neither of you could be happier.

“You know, you might actually be more annoying than Mackie.” He teased you before leaning down to kiss your neck.

“Shut up.” You laughed. “Shut up and bite me in the neck.”

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#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x yn #sebastian stan x actress!reader #sebastian stan fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes

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meowniee · 4 years ago

Text

Lee Taeyong - One Shot

Pairing: Female Reader (photographer) x Lee Taeyong (idol)

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: Who would have thought that doing a photo shoot with NCT would lead you to stay after your working hours in a room alone with Taeyong...

You were already asleep when you got a call from your boss. One of the photographers who would be working tomorrow had gotten sick and he needed you to go to work in her place. You had been hired a few months ago, but you hadn't worked on any major projects yet, even though your experience in the field is impeccable. He asked you to arrive early tomorrow at the film set and your colleague would explain all the work. You were so excited, it would be your first opportunity to show your talent, whatever job it was.

You could barely sleep and ended up waking up earlier than you needed to. You chose a comfortable outfit, pants and shirt, ate your favorite breakfast, did some very basic makeup, highlighting your cute lips, and went out to the photo set. The day was beautiful with a very blue sky and a shining sun. It was almost 10 am when you arrived at the luxurious hotel where the photos would be. At the entrance, your colleague was waiting for you with an iced coffee in each hand. You greeted each other quickly, thanking her for the coffee, and headed into the hotel, picking up your credentials at the lobby. On the way to the main hall, she explained to you that they would have a big crew today because they were going to photograph a famous K-pop group, NCT127. Each photographer would be responsible for one of them during the individual photos, and the photos would be taken in a hotel room according to the aesthetic that each one wanted. She told you that you would be responsible for Taeyong, the leader of the group. You were shocked. You were just replacing the sick photographer and were you responsible for none other than the GROUP LEADER? “Don't worry, he's an experienced idol. He'll help you with whatever you need. He's also a sweetheart, rest assured”, she said, patting your arm. You sighed in relief. You need to do your best today to take your best pictures. You knew Taeyong and how perfect he was in the photos. His features were sharp and his gaze was deep, the best set for a good model.

It didn't take long for all the photographers and directors to arrive, preparing their cameras, lights and scenery, reviewing the positions and space around them. The beats of their music echoed faintly through the hall. You heard rumbles coming from the entrance to the hall and turned to see what was going on. The boys had arrived along with their security guards and managers. They were mostly in sweats and comfortable clothes, clearly without the luxurious outfits prepared for the photos. Some messy hair, sleepy eyes and yawns accompanied their expression, but that didn't stop you from noticing how beautiful they were. Extremely beautiful. They were talking to each other, sipping their coffee, laughing and settling down next to the staff members. The blonde one, Taeyong, stood in front of them, ceasing their conversation. They greeted all of the staff, bowing and smiling. The director took the lead and made the general introductions. "We will have a team responsible for each member to optimize the work today. Please direct each member to their workstation to begin preparations". He called one name at a time, redirecting the boys to their teams. The makeup artists and hairdressers started to work, preparing their looks according to the references they had received. You stood a little away from him, a little embarrassed, holding your camera. You didn't want to take pictures of him without makeup, respecting his personal space, so you waited until the stylists had finished. He was perfect now, with his hair straight and his makeup done. Soft pink lips emphasized the shape. He was fiddling with his cell phone, waiting for the moment to go change. You approached slowly. “Hi Mr. Lee… I’m Y/n. I am your photographer today”, you introduced yourself, bending a little and unable to look at him. “Hey! Nice to meet you.”. You raised your eyes a little to see him. He was smiling and waving his hand. “I didn't know you. Are you new here?”, he asked. “Yes… Hm… I'm replacing a colleague who couldn't come”, you answered, squeezing your camera in your hands. “If you have any questions or need help, just ask me, okay?”, he smiled and got up to go dress up. You breathed a sigh of relief. You were very nervous and hadn't even realized you weren't breathing properly. He seemed very kind and that made you more relieved.

The group photos were quick. The boys were very professional, they knew exactly what to do, where to look and how to position their bodies. They were very comfortable with the production, playing games with each other but not disturbing each other's work. Everyone's attention was focused on them, always going to fix some hair that was out of place, or some slightly smudged makeup. Words of encouragement from the photographers only made them more excited. You were always watching Taeyong. You needed to learn how he looked at the camera, what angles he preferred and how he liked to pose for pictures. He was the one who looked most comfortable among them all. He wore burgundy pants and a shiny leather jacket, no shirt. Sometimes your eyes locked, making your whole body heat up, and eventually you would shyly look away.

Everyone had lunch at the hotel restaurant and then went to the individual sets. All lights and equipment were mounted. The rooms weren't very big, but the staff was downsized now so you wouldn't have a problem with that. The room had a bed by the window, a sofa across the room, and a rug with wave patterns. The pale colors contrasted with Taeyong's clothes.

Individual photos took longer. Taeyong always stopped to look at the result in the notebook, giving suggestions for light, for angles, praising your photos. You were getting more and more comfortable with him, laughing at the jokes and daring to get closer. “It's almost 7 PM, we should start wrapping up”, you said. He looked at you. “I really want to try some other poses and angles. Y/n, can you stay up a little later?” he asked and you nodded quickly. It was your most important job so far and you would make the most of it. “We won't need the production. You all can go. These photos will be for my personal project. Thank you so much for your hard work today”. He said, turning to the rest of the staff. They thanked and bowed, starting to pack their things and leave the room. You were very happy that he asked you to take more photos for his personal project. So he liked your work, right? You were enjoying working with him too. The conversation and exchange of ideas flowed easily. You quickly understood what he wanted and could reproduce it with your clicks. You had good chemistry together. “I'm going to go down and get my stuff from downstairs and from there we can start, ok?”, you said, opening the door and heading for the elevator. You were very excited... and a little nervous about being alone in a room with him. Quickly grabbing your extra lights and lenses, you went back to the hotel room, thinking of all the angles that could be made there. You knocked on the door before entering. Taeyong had his notebook open, sitting on the couch. The room was cozier now that all the lights were out and there wasn't a lot of equipment in the corners. “I ordered drinks and some snacks for us. We can relax a little while I explain to you what I thought for these photos.”, he said as you put your things down by the couch, sitting on the bed in front of him. “Oh thank you! So… Tell me a little about your project, please”, you asked him. His eyes were shining as he told you about his new album that he produced himself. He was thinking about taking photos to promote digitally. A sexier concept as his songs were very intimate. You really liked everything. He had a very artistic mind and he spoke in a very emotional way.

The snacks arrived and you thanked them, you were starving. At some point you sat next to him on the couch while he showed you pictures he liked, so you could follow the concept. You both finished eating and you got up, “How do you want to start? Maybe on the couch?”, he nodded, crossing his legs and leaning on the sofa, his tiger look appearing again. His duality was incredible. Super cute and adorable off camera, but extremely irresistible on them. His poses were great and you always praised him between them, cheering him on. He lay on his back on the couch, letting his arm fall over the edge, looking directly at you through the camera lens. This was the best photo of the night, for sure. He sat, legs closed, back laying on the couch. If you were your camera right now, you would be melted by his gaze. “Can you take one up close?”, he asked. You positioned yourself very close to his legs, leaning forward to get as close as possible, trying to balance. “You can put your legs around mine. That’s okay”. You did as he said, timidly opening your legs and getting closer to him, his legs between yours. He lay a little more on the couch, flirting with the lenses. Or with you? You didn't know anymore at that point. You tried to get a little closer, but you lost your balance, falling forward. He quickly put his hands around your waist, holding you, making you sit in his lap. “Are you ok?”, he asked. You were so embarrassed, your cheeks were burning. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Thank you”, you whispered. You didn't try to get up and he didn't move either. His hands still gripping your waist, holding you in place. “Maybe a photo this close will be good”, he murmured, lightly squeezing his hands on you. You quickly raised the camera. You thanked you for not having to look him in the eye, but being able to see him through the lens was a really amazing view. You clicked several times, trying to capture the most of the moment. You tightened your thighs around him, getting closer. His hands gently moved down your legs as his gaze traveled over your entire body. He bit his lower lip when you whispered a compliment, letting his head fall back, panting softly. He was enjoying the whole moment, just like you. You took his chin between your fingers and pushed it up, making him face the camera. Your thumb lightly scraping the bitten lip as he opened it slightly. Lowering the camera, you glared into his eyes, pushing your finger slowly between his lips, testing the waters. You let a low moan escape as he ran his tongue over your finger, circling slowly and then closing his lips around it.

Taeyong was so sexy already totally drunk with pleasure underneath you, with labored breathing and huge pupils dilated by arousal. You could almost feel him melt under your touch, giving himself completely. Was this really happening? Or did you hit your head in the elevator and this is all just your mind's creation? The questioning passed quickly when you felt a sharp bite on your finger, pulling you back to reality. Yes, he was there, deliciously sucking your finger like it was the tastiest candy he'd ever had. Putting the camera to one side entirely, you looked deep into his eyes, lifting your head with a defiant look as your fingers tightened inside his mouth, forcing him to open it. He took a deep breath before suddenly grabbing you around the waist and pulling you close to his chest, causing you to lose your balance and fall onto his chest completely, bracing both your hands on the couch behind him. You felt him pushing his hips up against yours just before your lips met. His lips were colder than yours, giving you goosebumps. Quickly devouring each other, the kiss became extremely hot as your tongues twisted against each other, tasting the sweet needy taste. You slipped your hand from his chest, past his neck, into his blonde hair, tangling your fingers in, pressing your mouths even closer, deepening the kiss. A purr resonated through his chest, leaving you extremely excited. He was so responsive to your actions, melting at any gesture, especially when you showed dominance over him.

You let your head fall back, leaving your neck free, guiding Taeyong to kiss you there. Despite the strength of your hand in his hair, he took his time kissing your jaw until he reached the base of your neck, biting and licking near your collarbone. His hands moved up from your hips, working their way under your shirt, reaching the base of your breasts. His hands weren't big, but they hugged your ribs as best they could. Running his hands down your back until he reached your shoulders, he pressed you down, against your prominent volume growing inside his pants, kissing the valley between your breasts through your shirt. You can do nothing but sigh. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, letting Taeyong sink between your breasts, kissing them through the lace of your bra as his deft hands opened it from behind. He pulled back for a moment as he slipped the straps over your shoulder, letting the bra fall between you, quickly tossing it to the side. Admiring your bare breasts, he cupped them both in his hands, massaging them gently, playing with your nipples between his fingers, lightly squeezing, earning a moan from you. Looking deep into your eyes, he brought his pink lips near to your nipple, pressing the tip of his tongue around it before capturing it with his mouth. The other one was being pinched and twirled between his fingers. You could feel your arousal making you wet, pooling in the fabric of your panties. You pressed your hips against his, trying to feel him hard against your clothed core.

You were startled when he quickly flipped you over with your back to the couch, sitting you down and pulling your hips closer to the edge. He found the waistband of your pants and pulled it with his fingers along with your panties, leaving you totally naked. His eyes ran all over your body, burning through every part they passed. Spreading your legs, he positioned in the middle as he sought your lips for another hot kiss. He was still fully dressed and it made you a little embarrassed to be undressed. You took advantage of the fact that he was close and started to open the buttons on his leather coat as he sucked your tongue and left bites on your lips. He helped you finish taking off his coat, throwing it somewhere in the room. He took a moment for you to look at him between your legs, standing up, and appreciate his gorgeous torso, now exposed since he wasn't wearing any shirt. He knelt gracefully between your legs, still looking into your eyes, and placed his hands on the inner part of your thigh, forcing you to spread your legs even further so that he could fit his broad shoulders between them. He brought his lips too close to your wet folds, but he didn't touch, just laid there, breathing hot, making you feel how close he was from your core. You grabbed his hair and forced his head against you, which he gladly accepted, flattening his tongue on your cunt. It didn't take long before he was devouring you hungrily, licking up all of your liquid, sucking on your clit and twisting his tongue around it. It felt great and you moaned his name under your breath, trying not to yell at all the neighbors to hear. You felt your orgasm approaching and began to roll your hips, rubbing yourself against his tongue. You couldn't help when your back arched and the wave of heat spilled over your whole body. He didn't stop sucking on your clit, prolonging the sensation of pleasure as your body writhed with each movement. When the sensation started to get painful from overstimulation, he slipped two fingers inside your wet interior, starting to move them curved, reaching the most sensitive point. You were about to ask him to stop when you felt another orgasm coming. His fingers worked fast in and out of your pussy, rubbing your g-spot with precision, while his mouth kissed your super sensitive clit. You felt an incredible pressure taking hold of your uterus, as if your bladder were suddenly too full. You tried to close your legs, but he held you tight, looking you in the eyes, daring you to stay there. You were hit by a high-speed train when your second orgasm came too quickly compared to the previous one. “Fuck…”, you yelled as you heard the louder and wet noises spreading through the room as Taeyong guided you through your moment of ecstasy. When you managed to open your eyes, he was looking at you with a proud smile on his lips. “God…that was really hot…”, he said, bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth, sucking each one until there was no juices left. You looked at your legs and saw that they were much wetter than usual. It's been a long time since you last had a squirt. And you were sure this wasn't the first time he's done this with a woman.

You saw his other hand rubbing the volume down his pants. He made you feel so good and now you wanted to return the favor. “Get up”, you asked, signaling with your finger. He immediately got up. Small dark stains covered the front of his burgundy pants, hit by your juices. Both of his hands were clasped behind his back, puffing out his chest and taking a deep breath, waiting for you. You reached for the button on his pants, undoing it slowly as you teased him with your gaze. You slid the zipper down at a slow pace, anticipating your touch on his cock. He was wearing black boxers, which fit perfectly against his body, showing the design of his hard member constrained by the fabric. You dropped his pants on his feet. Taking a firm grip on his ass and squeezing, you brought your lips close to his still-covered volume, sliding your lips over his length. You earned a sigh of appreciation. He didn't tease you, so you wouldn't tease him either. You grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down, freeing his hard cock. He was wet with pre-cum, glistening in the bedroom light, inviting your mouth to suck it. You took it in your hand, being careful not to put too much pressure, and brought the tip to your lips, giving light kisses around it as you looked at him. His eyes sparkling with anticipation when you stuck your tongue out, gently circling, collecting the pre-cum to taste it. He was so sweet you almost couldn't believe it. You put his whole head in your mouth and increased the pressure on your hand, making him moan louder than before. Sliding down to the end of its length and back, feeling it hit the back of your throat, you started to suck it, your other hand mimicking your movements, but to the opposite side. When your head twisted to the right as you swallowed his length, your hand met twisting to the left. He was moaning hard from pleasure, making you feel proud of your perfect blowjob. You were determined to make him come in your mouth, so you took his balls with your free hand, gently massaging them back and forth as you deepthroated his entire length. You were about to go back when you felt his hand pressing your head further, keeping his cock in your hot throat. You couldn't fight the gag reflex, but he pulled back your head, freeing your throat so you could breathe.

Your lips were all wet with saliva, as was his dick. He pulled your head, making you look at him. "Please… I don't want to come yet…", he begged between sighs. You stood up, hugging his defined waist, quickly spinning him around, causing him to lose his balance and land on the couch. You sat on his lap, positioning your needy pussy on top of his hard cock. Resting your hands on his chest, you started grinding his entire length with your wet folds. He took hold of your hips and helped guide the movement, rolling his eyes back at the wonderful feeling it was like to have you slide past him. “Do you have a condom?”, you asked. He was a little bewildered with pleasure and looked a little startled by the question. “Y-yes…”, he replied, quickly reaching into his wallet and pulling one out. You barely waited for him to finish putting on as you positioned yourself with your entrance to the head of his cock, taking advantage that he was holding it up.

You slid painfully slowly across his length, watching his gaze fixed on where he disappeared inside you. You both moaned low as you reached the end, waiting until your tight walls got used to his size. He cupped both of your breasts, taking one of them in his mouth and kissing it as if it were your lips. You started to roll your hips with his dick deep inside you. “Fuck…”, you both whispered. You couldn't keep it that way for long, so you got up until it almost came out of you, and sank down again. You kept the rhythm steady, enjoying the pleasure inside you. Your brain still didn't seem to process the fact that you were fucking none other than Taeyong. He was really perfect, like he came out of an anime. And he was enjoying being there with you… it made you even more turned out. He started to move his hips too, slamming against you harder, pushing even deeper. You couldn't hold back a shriek of pleasure as it hit so deep you could have sworn you'd feel pain there tomorrow. He kept it deep and strong, the thrusts getting more and more sloppy while the two of you were a moaning mess. Both bodies tense feeling the orgasm approaching, labored breathing filling the room with gasps of air. Grabbing the hair at the back of his head and forcing him away from your sensitive nipple, you captured his lips with yours, still tasting your own juice on his tongue. You could feel your walls tightening and his cock throbbing. You stopped bouncing on him, just focusing on kissing his mouth, but he held your hips in the air, giving him room to move under you, pushing his cock deeper and faster with harder and harder. You dropped your head at the base of his neck, moaning not so low his name as he nibbled and sucked on your neck, increasing your pleasure even further. “Fuck, Taeyong… I’m so close… Please, don’t stop”, you begged this time, holding tight his body against yours. Your words made him fuck you even faster, moaning in a low tone countless curses in your ear. Your orgasm erupted as he licked and bit your earlobe, giving you shivers all over your body, followed by the tingling sensation. Your walls squeezed his cock hard inside you, sucking him in with your pussy. He couldn’t hold it any longer and he's bursted all of his cum into the condom, deep inside you. He didn't stop moving in and out until you were both almost starting to feel pain from overstimulation.

You lay there cuddled together as your bodies rested, restoring your breathing rhythm and heartbeat. This all still didn't feel real. You just had the best sex of your life with… him. You were awakened from your thoughts by his voice in your ear. “Can we take a shower together?”, he asked, his voice so soft he didn't sound like the same person from a few minutes ago. “Only if you wash my hair for me…”, you joked. “Okay, I can do that”, he smiled. He helped you to your feet and went to the bathroom and started getting ready for the shower. “I'll order us something to eat if you don't mind. I'm hungry and I believe you are too”. You nodded as you wrapped yourself in the robe that was in the bedroom. He was being so adorable and caring. In fact, you wouldn't expect him to just send you away after having melted under your touch so easily. He was a gentleman and he was making you feel special right now.

The shower was fun and he let you do various hairstyles with the shampoo bubbles in his hair. Also the timing was perfect. As soon as you guys got out of the shower and wrapped yourself in your hotel robes, the food he ordered arrived in your room. Both of you ate while he told stories about behind the scenes in the clips and funny situations with other members of the group. He was so easy to talk to and give you pleasure that you could easily fall in love...

#taeyong smut #taeyong #lee taeyong #lee taeyong smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct fanfic

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

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Eternal Binding. Yan Zhongli x Reader

Warnings: Unhealthy yandere themes and non major character death, spoilers for Zhongli’s identity I think ?? Word count: 1.2k.

Liyue, as it is now, feels different than how you remember it growing up.

It started with little things. Popular trends rose and fell at breakneck speed, the second you finally felt caught up, the people of Liyue had moved onto the next eye-catching phenomenon.

Imperceivable grievances upon first glance, that once pointed out, you would fixate on like a man possessed. He had warned of this fate that awaited you, yet you chose to carry out your days in ignorance. That maybe you’d somehow be immune to the pain brought by time moving on with or without you.

A dear friend from childhood, Nian Zhen, had made an offhanded comment about how her body had seen better days. The rest of your companions murmured in solemn agreement and added on their complaints. They bemoaned the wrinkles that formed underneath their eyes and how their bodies had begun to ache after a day’s full of work. All the while, you sat there and silently drank your tea. You had belonged to the same age group as them, yet experienced none of the plights they did.

At that time, Nian Zhen had turned to you and posed a question that pierced your being with frigid dread.

“[First], you look as young as ever. What’s your secret?” She had teased, to which you skillfully dodged the question. The conversation went from there, but you no longer followed it. They’re right, you thought. No grey hairs, aching bones, or wrinkles. It’s impossible to hide any longer.

What your Archon warned you about decades ago had finally reared its ugly head.

You still remember her funeral in great detail, the proceedings lasted days and were fulfilled to Liyue’s custom. She had died of old age in bed, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Her eldest son, who had commemorated the ceremony, opened with a line you often think back to.

“My mother lived a long, fulfilling life.”

That she did. When the two of you were children, you used to sneak out at night to play near the harbor. As teenagers, she’d lend at your parent’s farm if they felt ill, the burden shared between you both. Then came being a young adult and the news of Nian Zhen’s betrothal to a local fisherman, which you enthused over. After that, it was nothing but a blur. Her first child, second, third, fourth. They grew up and created families of their own.

All this, while you hadn’t aged a day.

Rex Lapis stands by your side near the overarching mountains, watching the completion of the proceedings in silence. The skies are unusually overcast, muted colors of grey and occasional dark blues mixing above. Now begins the mourning period, in accordance with Liyue tradition. Nian Zhen’s offspring, that now look to be the same age as you in terms of physical appearance, are nowhere to be seen.

He snaps you from your thoughts by placing a hand on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” Rex Lapis -- or Zhongli, as he prefers you call him in private -- inquires. His touch is unwelcome as he is, yet you don’t have the energy to protest.

“About as well as you could expect,” comes your response, bitter and scathing. “Why are you still here, anyway?”

Zhongli straightens his posture, fiddling with the cuffs of his outfit. “I feel it is my duty as your husband to comfort you.”

This earns a sardonic laugh, the smile on your face ingenuine to match. Once, you would’ve considered yelling curses at him until he left you alone, but now you’re faced with a crueler reality. A reality that Zhongli is the only person who can fully understand what it’s like to share this curse disguised misleadingly as a blessing.

Immortality.

“I’ll be honest. I’m not feeling too comforted right now, or whatever it is you claim to be doing.” You refute, chest feeling paradoxically heavy and light with nothingness. The first one is always the most difficult, is what he told you back then, in reference to watching your mortal friends wither away due to age. Now comes the question of who’s next. Will it be your former neighbor, the blacksmith? Perhaps your old tutor who recently celebrated a century of life? There’s no way to know for certain. What you do know is that if it’s going to cut this deep, maybe you should’ve rejected his offer all those years ago.

Grass rustles to the left of you, dry leaves crunching and twigs snapping, as Zhongli sits by your side.

“Tell me how to do it properly, then. I’ll learn if it’s for your sake.” Zhongli implores, bewitching amber eyes drawing you into their thrall. The way he looks at you, waiting patiently on your every word as if you held the secrets of the universe, no longer comes as a surprise. Though you might be used to this display, it still manages to unnerve you. The awe-inspiring fact that you’re conversing with a god, the god that you grew up worshipping in deep reverence, still causes your tongue to momentarily forget its function.

You clear your throat and play with a strand of your hair. “Well, I suppose… there is one question I’ve long wanted to ask of you.”

He blinks, the confession unexpected, but manages to revert his visage to its typical look of composure. Zhongli nods his head as if it wordlessly urge you to continue. Sucking in a deep breath, you do just that.

“Why… why did you choose me? With your contract, I mean. Surely, there are more special members of Liyue that you could’ve saved, people that would fit the role of an adepti.”

Zhongli ponders over your question. The silence is torture, not to mention unusual, since you’ve gotten used to him speaking at great length over any subject. Pottery, the history of paper, traditions native to northern Liyue regions; anything and everything he could speak about for hours if you allowed. Now, he’s unable to offer even a single word. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and frown.

After some time passes, his lips part.

“It doesn’t come from any logical place,” Zhongli admits, much to your bewilderment, your head snapping to look at his perplexed face. “I believe it’s referred to as intuition. Yes, that sounds correct. I felt that you would understand me.”

He holds your gaze, unblinking. “So, I decided to have you by my side for all of eternity.”

That’s right. The contract you formed on that fateful day said as much. How it so seamlessly flows from his lips is a mystery to you, the declaration sending a fresh wave of shivers and dread down your spine. This is your fate -- you remind yourself -- and the Geo Archon will never allow a person to violate the terms of a contract.

Not even if it’s you.

While Liyue and its surrounding regions are fluid and ever-changing as a rushing stream, Zhongli remains the same as you’ve always known him to be. God of Contracts, Commerce, War, and finally,

Your eternal damnation.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #yandere zhongli #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

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alldayangst · 4 years ago

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lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!”

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way.

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.”

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again.

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics.

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you.

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.”

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.”

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?”

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer.

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time.

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after.

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.”

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene.

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

#tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #lolbrosgetsicktoo

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writing-in-lesbian · 4 years ago

Text

Haunting my Dream(s)

Synopsis: You met Natasha when she was living in Ohio. She was your best friend (maybe more) and you were hers. Everything was perfect until one day she disappeared from your life, breaking both of your hearts in the process. That night was when the dreams started. 24 years later and you can't get her out of your life. Maybe it's time you actually pay attention to your dreams. Pairing: Natasha Romanoff / Female reader. Tags: angst Disclaimer: I don’t own Black Widow or anything Marvel related. Word Count: 4.3K

I have always liked rainy days. For as long as I can remember, these types of days have held an attraction for me, it’s as if the cold and the gray clouds called me and asked me to listen to their stories. Most of the time they came to me consciously and lucidly in the daytime world.

To say those cold gray days did not put me in a nostalgic and longing feeling would be a lie. Longing for her, for the past, for the thousands of questions that remained unanswered, the hidden truths buried in the depths of my mind and my being.

Sometimes those days were torturous, reminding me of what I lost, a person that my mind tried to lock in that place where painful memories end. That comfort that usually came with the witnesses of the rain, like the smell of the grass and the wet earth, from time to time becoming my own prison, trapping me in a labyrinth of memories suppressed and assumptions.

Despite that, the rain called me like a jealous lover to the dreamlands, where I would know undoubtedly, from time to time, she would be there, patiently waiting for me.

I had never allowed myself to speak consciously about her until today, 24 years after the dreams began.

For years I did not question the meaning of it, I sought consolation thinking that it was just a feeling of longing for my "Best Friend", that feeling you have when you think you lost something good without explanation.

Or maybe it had an explanation. I don’t know.

The first time I dreamed it, it caught me off guard. Over the years, that dream became recurring and at some point, a refuge.

The set up and places always changed. A hotel, a restaurant, a shopping center, a beach, the cabin in the mountains, our old school, a clubroom, a field, her backyard ... and so I could go on with the list.

Physically she does not look like the person I remembered. It was someone else face, her skin was different and her eyes weren't the shade of green I remembered, but it was her. I know it was her, her essence is unique.

Sometimes she is taller than me. Other times (most of them) she is slightly shorter than I am. We are normally the same height.

It always happens the same way:

I find myself talking with a group of people, friends who correspond to the moment in my life in which I find myself. Friends and acquaintances, teachers and family, love interests that only appeared once and faded from my attention after she arrived. In hindsight I think that must have been my second biggest sign.

I am always in the middle of a conversation on any topic that, in the same way, resembles the point in my life where I found myself, such as high school, the next exam, the final presentation, the thesis, my recruitment, the mission. A good time, good company, but the weather is always cloudy, sometimes with a few small drops, most of the time with torrential rain.

Suddenly, my eyes and attention are diverted to someone who is approaching the group of people I am with.

"Natasha"

Her name resounds between the drops hitting the glass and the thunder that echoes in the distance. It’s like a whisper that should be imperceptible but in my mind it’s the only clear thing that I heard. Strong enough to silence the sounds of people around me and escapes my lips like a forbidden breath.

"Natasha"

I had not dared to pronounce it since our separation, a little over 12 months ago... But you should not take it for sure. There are things that my mind had blocked and was trying to avoid, so I may be wrong with the time.

She walks to us and greet us like it's a common thing. She greets everyone with a kiss on the cheek and a short hug.

She never greets me first.

When she stands in front of me, time stops for a few seconds and suddenly my arms are on her back in a hug that makes me feel that time has not passed, as if we had stopped seeing each other for a few minutes and nothing more.

Her hands draw me to her and squeeze me tightly, I feel mine bringing her closer as well , trying to communicate things that I don't know how to express. Trying to make her feel what my 12-year-old self never knew how to express.

But it’s not necessary, in the dream only hours have passed and not a few months (or years).

I distance myself from her and look at her face that reflects my smile. That face unknown to me but that my heart knows is her. I would recognize her in any dream.

Her hand seeks my hand (or is it mine that seeks hers first?) And intertwines our fingers in endless thoughts. My logic knows things that my self does not and, on this earth, I am not allowed to know yet.

With her by my side, the conversation continues as if there hasn't been any kind of interruption. The people around me do not act strangely, even those who cannot theoretically know her do not treat her differently. That we are holding hands does not cause a blink-of an eye from no one.

At one point (or is it hours later? I don't know, the time here behaves differently) I turn to look at her. I know there are a thousand things I want to say, my mind tries to sort the train of thoughts that I would like to follow but it is impossible.

"Can we talk?"

"We need to talk"

A laugh leaves my lips hearing us say it at the same time. I don't know if we were always in perfect sync or it’s something of this context.

"Alone" I hear myself say, referring to the fact that, although we have been talking for hours (o minutes) with the group of people we are, this talk is important and should only be between us two.

She doesn't say anything.

She never does.

She just takes my hand, says goodbye to the others making signs that we have to go. No one ever questions her, not me. They just accept it and we say goodbye as if we were going to see each other tomorrow.

We turn around and walk a couple of steps before I let go of her hand by shoving my hands into my pockets. She just laughs and keeps hers in her coat. The cold is less intense when we walk.

Every now and then my hips thrust into hers as she smiles at me. Hearing her laugh provokes things in me.

"Can we order something?"

"Of course"

I never know the destination, I think that it adapts to the scenario that my mind decided to put on this occasion. Sometimes it’s inside a classroom, other times it’s a bench surrounded by bushes, most of the times is a table in a restaurant, the furthest from everything. But there are always many people and doors to pass before we get there.

When we arrive, we sat down. I feel her gaze on me. The one that she gave me several times, that look that doesn’t express anything but I know that it held many questions, the one that observes me as if trying to guess my next movement or thoughts, as if she wanted to decipher each and every one of my deepest thoughts.

Or so I usually think.

"Let's talk"

"Do you know what we need to talk about?"

"Yes" my voice is confident, without hesitation I try to say it. "About us"

"What about us?"

"You know" you've known all this time. Probably even before me.

"And you too"

Her eyes drift to my lips, her gaze posing for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again. Unconsciously (or maybe it's the most conscious thing I do on this earth) I lick my lips and her eyes follow my movements again.

"Okay, let's talk then"

"Y/N, see you in a minute" ... ... ...

An alarm sounds and ...

Sometimes the chirp of the birds is the first thing I hear, other days it’s the same rain that, as a jealous lover, tears me away from those lands and brings me back to reality. This reality where I know that she is not with me, that we have not spoken in months (or years) and leaves me with this feeling of wanting to know about her.

For 24 years I had the same dream.

For 24 years I never paid attention to that need or that desire to want to know about her, which intensified as time passed. Sometimes months passed before dreaming of her again. Generally it was once a year.

For a long time, I convinced myself that I was not ready to see her, I was not ready to conclude that talk that the land of dreams denied me, always expelling me the moment she pronounces my name and tells me she’ll see me in a minute.

And now...

Now I am here, trying to finish a dream that started and has stayed with me for approximately 8760 days. Right now I'm a phone call away from asking her so many things, but I know it can't be like that yet.

When I looked for her after the last dream, it was because I woke up with a need like I had never felt before. It was not enough get used to the idea that you could be okay, it was not enough the few times I met you in the real world and turned around. It was not enough that time that by chance I found your file in Maria's files and went in to read it just to know that you were okay, and lose it days later. I imagine Hill figured it out.

After this dream and everything that happened with Thanos and the world, I knew that I had to stop being a coward. I looked for you for several days, they say that if you don’t want to be found, you’ll never be found. I tried various sides and people, but I always ran into walls. At some point I thought you were one of the people we lost when the snap happened, but your name was never on those lists. Just when I thought that again it was not written in my destiny to meet you again (and thinking"OK universe, if I should not find her I will understand") ... I found you.

It took me a couple of days to form a message. For a few hours just looking at your file and the number calmed me down, but something inside me demanded more, asked for more. Someone asked me if I was ready to write to you and I always replied that I didn't know. But my soul screamed to write to you, to initiate a contact and, although it took me 3 hours to write those few lines, at the end of the day I did.

"Hey Natasha, I'm Y/N, maybe this message surprises you a bit, but I don't know if it's something crazy or not (it could be), the point is that I've been dreaming about you (for several years now to be honest, always the same dream, never changes). And to be honest I had always left it alone, however, I dreamed of you last week and I woke up with this very strong urge to look for you, stronger after the decimation. Somewhat difficult if I'm honest, you really know how to hide very well Tasha, but finally something pointed me in the right direction and here I am. Anyway. I do not know if you will read this message or even if I will have an answer, I just wanted to know if you were okay, I sincerely hope you are. Y/N "

I convinced myself that was enough. I convinced my mind not to expect anything, that the message was what I needed to calm my soul, that it didn't matter if you didn't see it or even didn't respond to it. Deep, deep inside, I knew I wanted an answer from you. Which one? I don't know, just that I wanted or needed you to answer.

Although the dream was consistent for 24 years, the last two times that I dreamed it, after I wrote to you, dreamland presented me with two more versions, two new “options”. In the first I saw you, (now your physique corresponded with your essence) but I couldn't reach you. I couldn't get close to you. In the second we talk a little, we exchange 4 or 5 sentences, but never alone.

That was right before you answered me in real life:

"Today. 5 pm. Americana cafeteria"

And now ... am I really ready?

I think the answer to that is no.

You are never ready, at least not consciously. I just know that my heart and mind are finally in the same place. Thanos really did a huge number on various people. Including you.

The place she chose is brighter than I thought, for once the storm clouds don't feel as gray or heavy. This time, that halo of light is enough to illuminate our surroundings. We are at a table, there are some cups of coffee in front of us, you watch the rain fall while your hand plays with the handle of the cup, the other is resting on your cheek.

"Y/N I ... I don't know where to start"

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything right now, just ... just let me speak first, please "

"Okay"

You access without problem. I don't know if it was always like this or not, but this time you know I need it. Maybe you also need the time.

“I know exactly what you were or what you are to me. Maybe it took me 24 years to understand it, I think it was more like accepting it. I always wondered why, you know? "

You just look at me, silently asking me what I mean with your eyes. I know deep down you know it. You extend your hand that plays with the cup and took mine. For a moment I take it and play with your fingers. I want to let go but you stop me, like an anchor tying me to this reality.

And maybe that's what he needed.

“I always wondered why it had hurt so much to part with you, why I cried in the afternoons after our fight, why I couldn't just be with you. Was it a bad or forbidden thing to love you the way I did? What was it that the universe or God wanted to avoid that had to separate us? "

"Y/N"

"I know, I know, probably, well no, surely it was a lesson we had to learn though"

Her fingers intertwine with mine, one of her fingers caressing my hand, as she always did, instantly calming me down.

“I know who I am and now so many things make sense, God, it's painful to see how they didn't before. Now I understand why my relationships did not work as I thought they should, now I understand why it hurt me so much and why so many years ago I could not face you "

"Surely for the same reasons why it hurt me so much too"

I look into her eyes. Those green irises that haunted me for so many years. Even today they do.

“Telling you that you were very important in my life it’s not all you meant to me. You were my first love you know and, well what can I say so many years later? Now I understand all my feelings towards you, now I understand the intensity and innocence that we had during our relationship. It's true when I tell you that all the years that I spent without you only made me realize how much impact you had on my life. They say that the first love is never forgotten and you know what? It's true. It's so fucking true "

“I know, I couldn't forget you either. I think at some point, you became like this ghost or this shadow that did not went away from me. I guess that's why I couldn't look for you after leaving ... "

Her voice cuts out. There's no need to talk about why she unexpectedly left Ohio that day. When I entered S.H.I.E.L.D and after hearing Barton tell your name to Fury, I decided to hack the system and find out about you. Those skills were what led me to join the agency, so I thought it would be something easy. In the end I did it, but it took me a while to do it until that day I found your file in Hill's archives.

“To be honest, I was able to accept that recently. That you had been my first love. So many years I lied to myself trying to justify that I only saw you as a friend, what a fool I was "

"Silly no detka, you just weren't ... we weren't ready"

"Could be"

“I can definitely tell you that I know I felt things for you too, I can't cover the sun with a finger, but for obvious reasons I couldn't look for you and then I couldn't dare to look for you, not after everything I had done and with so much red in my ledger. I always thought of you thou, I wondered what become of your life. I guess I don't think I was ready either and with various things happening in my life ... Now, I also understand several things. I forgive you for not looking for me that night, I understood that it was something that was not in our hands"

I lightly squeeze her hand and look at her. Slowly I turn my gaze to her eyes and there it is, again, trying to decipher what is going through my head, as if trying to prepare or anticipate something. Unconsciously I moisten my lips with my tongue.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything"

"What was I, for you?"

“A watershed in my life. A pending chapter "

I don't know if it's what I expected or not. I don't even know what I wanted to hear, but her words carry a lot of weight for me. I look at our hands again, I see slowly how her other hand covers them, as if she wanted to protect them.

PENDING.

The word overwhelms me more than I ever thought. It puts me in this state of nervousness, ecstasy, uncertainty, happiness. Of everything and nothing at the same time.

Pending. Without resolving.

Pending. Unfinished.

Pending.

PENDING.

“I know you are gay. And there were so many things between us that it would be absurd of me to try to put you inside a label or a box. You were many things to me. I've learned that you don't need a label to feel comfortable with yourself"

She stared into my eyes as I shot her a glance, lightly squeezing her hands.

I'm here.

I'm with you.

You are with me.

You are here.

"Did you ever wonder what would have happened?"

"If you had stayed?"

She can only nod her head while looking away.

"Several times. More than I would like to admit. You?"

"Every time I thought of you"

Her hands release mine and take the forgotten cup of coffee with a slow sip. I look at my warm and dark coffee, the waves caused by the movement come and go.

"I want you to be free"

Her gaze turns doubtful, intriguing even. She leaves the cup on the table.

“You said that at one point I became a ghost or shadow. I don't want to continue being that. I want you to be free. You are too important to me and I want you to be happy. Really"

"You say it like this is the last time I will see you"

There it is. The easy way out, the conclusion of many things. If I say goodbye and get up of this chair, I will end this chapter. I can get on with my life.

But...

"It is not"

"Then?"

Her gaze seeks mine, that gaze equal to that of 24 years ago where I promised my life and she promise she would never lave. That look full of so many insecurities and fears. That look that deep down we know that we would break our promises and break both our hearts.

But this time I have the power of decision in my hands. This time I am in control.

“It’s obvious that we have a strong connection. And I think the way we ended things, that unfinished chapter, where we were and at the age we were, influenced us to unconsciously drag things along and follow us through life. So I want to free you and get rid of those ghosts"

"Y/N, what are you trying to say?"

“I want us to leave the luggage that we dragged behind. I don't want you to be my one that got away”

"Please be clear"

Clear. That word resounds like thunder fallen within the enclosure and is transformed into five simple words.

what do you want?

I want... I want... I want...

I WANT.

I WANT TO BE WITH YOU.

"I want to be with you. I want to see where this connection can take us and I definitely want to know you with the intention of being your girlfriend. I want to try this. Give us a chance to be a couple. Really"

"Detka" her words stay there. I take both of her hands between mine and lift them resting my elbows on the table.

"I know. I know there are a thousand things to fix, okay? I know. But precisely for that reason, with all the more reason we should do it. It’s clear to me that we both started with a light luggage that over the years became a mega suitcase. At least that's how it was with me ”.

"Same with me"

I smile slightly.

“I know we are not the same people we were at twelve, we have to get to know each other again. For my part I have forgiven what I had to forgive of you and myself. It took me 24 years to understand and accept it and I don't want 24 more years to go by. I'm tired of running and forcing things that I didn't understand why they didn't work. I will never be ready, whatever way I think it to be. I know that there is a great risk in all this, I know the world is in chaos and the mission to find the gems has not been easy”

Her gaze does not seem surprised at this confession.

"And still you want ... but why?"

"Because it's you. As simple as that"

Probably simple wasn't the word she expected.

There are so many complications and logical reasons to run to the other side. Definitely none of this fit with my plan to find her again, but what would life be like if all our plans went according to what we idealized?

It's so fucking ironic.

But so simple to understand.

And so, so simple.

Suddenly everything made sense.

“Sorry if it took me so many years to find you, but here I am in front of you. Closing all the past and setting us free from it. Here I am, ready to give myself to you completely. To meet us and take the opportunity. I think neither you nor I need a conventional love and let's be honest, we probably don't make sense, but don’t you wanna stop asking what if? I know that I prefer to find out"

She doesn’t say anything. For a few moments my anxiety begins to take over me. I try to count the seconds and focus on my breathing. Her hand in mine is sufficient anchor to the present.

"I am"

"You are?"

"Yes detka" There is her laugh again. The one that caused butterflies in my stomach so many years ago and today causes them elsewhere.

"Like you said, if I'm here and you're here, why don't we try?"

Four words that make it all seem simple, but probably not, but what the fuck does it matter now? The universe screamed at me many times that I should look fir her, it tried to teach me the lesson very early but my stubborn self was probably opposed to accepting the truth.

Natasha Romanoff was my first love, the first person I ever innocently loved, the first person who made me question myself. She was the first to break my heart (and the first heart I broke)

And now, after so many years, I have found her again.

I feel a slight squeeze in my hands and Natasha stands up. Before I can question anything, her lips steal mine in a kiss that has been waiting for almost 8,760 days. It's everything I could imagine. Her lips move in perfect sync with mine and just when I think it can't be more perfect, her tongue asks for access and I happily oblige.

A vibration on the table interrupts us, Natasha keeps her forehead on mine, eyes closed, savoring the moment, with a peck on my lips, she moves away from me and looks at whatever interrupted our moment.

Natasha takes my hand and with a slight tug pulls me to my feet. In reality she is taller than me by about 5 cm. Her eyes search mine.

"Ready to save the world?"

I just nod my head.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #angst #unbeta'd

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sunnypogue · 4 years ago

Text

taking care of drunk coho!rafe

oh how the tables have turned. sequel to THIS.

normalize drunk couples who take care of each other equally!!

for: @moldisgoodforyou & @oopmyheartwent-obx. happy new year.

pairing: coho!rafe x reader

warnings: excessive drinking, references to other substances.

enjoy xx

Normally, your boyfriend had a relatively decent grasp on his tolerance. It didn’t mean he would push his limits from time to time (he was a college student after all), but he was a responsible drinker for the most part.

Football games were his downfall. More specifically, tailgating.

No matter the time of day, if there was a home game, your boyfriend would be three sheets to the wind by 8:30 am, crushing his fourth “mouthmade” mimosa of the morning as you begrudgingly dressed for work.

By the time you were out the door at nine, Rafe would be opening his third Andre bottle of the morning, smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss on your cheek as he sent you on your way to the stadium, hooting and hollering with his equally drunk friends as you made a swift exit.

After that, it was a complete fucking mystery as to what your idiot boyfriend and his teammates got up to in the eight hours y’all were separated. Rafe wasn’t big on drunk social media use and was known to misplace his phone during his benders – not that you particularly cared, considering your job had you hauling ass through a stadium in 105-degree heat.

All while wearing khaki’s, of course.

It wasn’t until you returned to the sanctity of your car that you began to worry about your boyfriend’s location, digging your phone out of your team-issued backpack to attempt to get in touch with him – if he had his phone, that is.

Surprisingly, he picked up on the second ring.

“Hullo?”

“Rafe?” You sat up a little straighter, genuinely surprised he still had the cognitive function to answer his cellphone (a feat that had bested him on more than one occasion prior). “Where are you?”

A beat passed.

“Hullo?”

You sighed, dropping your phone to your lap, casting an exasperated look towards the roof of your 4-Runner. Cranking your keys, your car rumbled to life, transferring the call from your phone to your Bluetooth.

You tried again.

“Hi Rafe. Where are you?”

“I am exactly where I need to be.” He slurred, his voice becoming fainter as you imagined his head drifting away from his phone.

“Rafe!” You yelled, trying to get his attention as you turned out of the parking lot. “Rafe, that is not at all helpful if you want me to come pick you up.”

A loud gasp erupted through your car as your boyfriend figured out where his receiver. “You’re coming here? Now?”

“If you want me to come get you so you don’t have to Uber back later, yes. I’ll come get you.” You paused to take a long pull of your water bottle. “But I can’t do that if you don’t tell me where you are.”

Before Rafe could respond, you heard the warbling of drunk college students singing an off-key rendition of John Denver’s “Country Roads” in the background.

Turns out you didn’t need to play 20 Questions with Drunk Rafe – you knew exactly where he was.

“Be there in 15, do not leave.” You barked through the phone. “Understand?”

“Yes’m.” He slurred. “Bye bye.”

Illegally cruising in the carpool lane got you to Rips in 12 minutes, the bar surrounded by various Uber XL’s parked illegally in the middle of the street. You whipped your car into parking lot of the sex shop down the street, knowing no one would be ticketing you there at 5 pm on a Saturday.

Ignoring the double glances you got as your marched down the street in your men’s cut polo and khaki ensemble, you pulled your phone out to call Rafe, hoping to avoid the line to get in.

You spotted him during the third ring, his broad ass easy to spot in a sea of drunk sorority girls and their 5’9” frat boyfriends.

He was standing precariously on the curb, one hand on Clark’s shoulder as he wobbled forward.

“Rafe!” You barked, shoving your way through what looked like 75% of Lambda’s pledge class. “Rafe!”

He turned slowly, inadvertently pulling Clark with him as he tried to locate the voice calling his name.

His face lit up when he registered your presence. “Baby! You came!”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile at your boyfriend’s uninhibited joy to see you, despite your appearance. “I told you I would.”

You glanced at his teammates, all messily drunk in their own distinct way. “Boys. How you doing?”

Matty burped in response.

“Sounds about right.” You nodded, turning your attention back to your still-wobbling boyfriend, who was now clutching Clark with both hands.

“Is now a good time to ask why half of the team is sitting on the sidewalk?” You probed, directing the question more at Clark, who seemed slightly less drunk than the rest of the boys.

“S’fault.” Clark pointed a crooked finger at Matty, who clumsily flipped him off in return. “He lit up in the bathroom.”

“And now you’re all out here?”

Clark shrugged. “Rafe and Luke tried to fight the bouncer taking Matty outside.”

You moved your hand up to your mouth, breathing evenly through your nose before your posed your next question. “Okay. Good. Great. Now what are you doing?”

“Looking for,” Clark paused, fumbling for his phone. “Dave in a Black Tahoe.” He waved his cracked screen in your face.

“And that’s gonna fit all of you?” You asked.

“If not, we’ll just leave Matty behind. He’s a survivor. He can find his way back.” Clark offered.

You glanced over in time to see Matty gag, presumably puking in his mouth.

“Or he’ll just pass out here and someone will find him. Whatever works.” Clark finished.

You snorted. “Am I good to take this one then?”

Clark patted the top of Rafe’s head, which had somehow found its way onto his shoulder. “Be my guest.”

A swift kick toward Rafe’s calves had him stumbling forward, nearly crushing you as he went to swing his arm around your shoulders.

“M’comin’.” He slurred, face inches from yours.

“Alright big boy.” You groaned, starting your shuffle back to your car. “Walk with me, we’ve gotta get to the car.”

“Big boy.” He parroted. “S’me.”

“Okay, don’t let it go to your head.” You rolled your eyes, tugging him through the increasing crowd.

You only threw an elbow once, when a girl got a little too close to Rafe’s chest, and managed to shove him into your passenger seat with little fuss.

“Dixie Chicks.” He demanded as you started the car. “Or shit. The Chicks. I can’t remember.”

You laughed, pulling onto the busy street. “I gotcha. Old or new?”

Rafe huffed, as if he was offended you’d ask. “Old.”

You punched in Cowboy Take Me Away, and let the soft singing of The Chicks (feat. Rafe’s drunk humming) guide you home.

“S’posed to sing that with Luke tonight.” Rafe sighed as you pulled into his driveway.

“Next time, bud.” You parked the car. “Want me to come inside?”

Rafe frowned. “You don’t wanna?”

“No, I just wanted to check with you. I’ll come in.” You unbuckled yourself, laughing as Rafe stumbled through the motions of exiting your car. “Maybe some water?”

You grabbed the keys from Rafe after watching him try to unlock his door for two minutes, guiding him into the messy kitchen for water and whatever food you could find.

“You’re gonna hate this in the morning.” You glanced at the sink full of crushed Bud Light cans.

Rafe just shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

“Cute.” You went to move towards his room, ready to steal some of his sweats for yourself, when you were stopped, Rafe’s long arm securing itself around your waist.

“C’mere.” He grinned, pulling you into his chest. “I’m cute?”

You laughed, moving to brush the remnants of his snack off his chin. “Unfortunately. That’s why I keep putting up with your dumbass.”

Rafe just grinned wider, eyes focusing as he grabbed gently at your chin. “You love it.”

You let him guide your chin upwards. “Only ‘cause you do the same for me. Two-way street, baby.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against your cheek, clearly missing his mark. You burst out laughing, dislodging your chin from his grip as he blushed.

“Here,” You move to mimic his position, grabbing at his chin and letting your thumb rub across the unshaved stubble up to his full bottom lip. “C’mere – I gotcha.”

#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #obx #outer banks #coho!rafe #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #she writes

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ekaterinatepes · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing but the Best

WARNING: nsfw (oral m and f receiving)

MINORS DNI

XIII.

(Part 2/3)

He stood up and set you on the table, standing between your legs Satoru moved his hands over your body, he opened your jacket thankful you were so thoughtful as to have places heaters on every corner of the gazebo so you wouldn’t freeze. With a smirk he pulled back “I am ready for desert” a mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes told you he wasn’t referring to the food. You moaned in answer while your hands also started taking off his clothes until he was left only in his pants and you completely naked before his predatory gaze. “Toru…” you moan against his lip when his index finger moved between your thighs to collect the wetness already pooling in between. “Mmm… better not let this go to waste..” he whispered before he knelt in front of you. Sucking his wet fingers before his mouth attached to your leaking entrance making you scream. You were so ready for him that the slightest stimulation had you tethering over the edge. “SATORU!” Screaming his name you placed a hand on top of his head caressing the his platinum strands while he ate you. He moaned sinking his tongue as deep as it could go within your womanhood. “Oh fuck!” You cursed when he added two fingers inside, pumping them slowly, making a come here motion at the same time he licked and swallowed everything you had to offer “come for me princess…”, “come for daddy…. I want my desert now” his husky and demanding tone sent an electric current down your spine making you tense right before you released in his mouth. Satoru groaned in delight sucking and slurping your juices “good girl” he praised you in between kisses until you were completely clean “I love desert” with a big smile he placed himself between your legs making you chuckle “well… I will have you know, I like my own desert too…” with a grin you switch places. Kneeling between Satoru’s legs you stroke the hard bulge under the tight fabric of his trousers. He moans at the stimulation letting you do as you pleased with him. Unzipping his pants you pull them down along with his boxes. His cock springs free hitting your face, Satoru groans louder at the sight. “You look so fucking beautiful right now” he praises you. Licking his member from the base to the tip you finally wrap your lips around the swollen pink head and suck hard. Bobbing your head you start a steady rhythm. Satoru’s sounds of pleasure encouraging you to take him deeper and faster until he is fucking your face, bucking his hips but avoiding pushing your head. “I’m gonna come baby… I’m gonna come” he moans desperately. To which you respond by deep throating him, inviting him to come down your throat. “oh Fuck! Y/N!” He came hard, a spray of warm cum shot down your throat. “Take it all princess! Take all of daddy’s cum down hour throat! That’s a good girl” Satoru encouraged you. Pulling your mouth back you suck at the tip of his sensitive member, making sure that you swallowed it all. “Oh fuck! Y/N! You are so fucking hot! My sexy and hot wife” a stupid smirk spreads across his lips making you chuckle when you stand up again. He pulls you in for a deep kiss “I love you princess” he says before grabbing a blanket from the small ottoman in the corner “you came prepared!” He observed chuckling, making you blush. Yeah, you were married for almost 4 years and that moron still managed to make you blush like a virgin. “Well it’s winter, I wasn’t sure the heaters would cut it.” He pulled you in his arms, kissing you once more while he accommodates cushions and a mat on the floor to then have you sitting on his lap. Serving each of you a glass of champagne you kissed and spent the night there in each other’s embrace. ~~~ End Flash Back~~~

On the other side of the world a sorcerer opened his blue eyes after a dream. The best dream he’s had since you left. It felt… so real; he dreaded the moment he woke up. He could feel you in his arms, taste you on his tongue. But it all had been just a beautiful dream, a memory from past times when you both were happy.

Sighing he sat upon his bed, alone again. Not that he wanted any of his one night stands soiling the sanctity of his home. Satoru never took them back home, it was always some hotel or their place. NEVER your bed, the one you both shared for the happiest years of his life. He had even bought your perfume ‘Ballet Rose’ by Philosophy to spray it on the bed and sleep surrounded by your familiar and comforting scent.

The dream was a memory of his last birthday, the one he spent with you. Making love and eating sweet things until the break of dawn. Closing his hand tightly in a fist he swallow hard. He missed you so badly, lately it felt… debilitating. How pathetic! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer reduced to a ghost of himself since you kicked him out of your life.

He had to do something. Even if he didn’t get to talk to you, he just wanted to see you one more time. Make sure you are alright, that you are happy…. Safe.

He grabbed his phone and looked for the phone number of the Chair Woman for the American School of Ballet. “Yes, good evening Mrs. Mazzo I am aware it is late where you are but I have a question for you. Is there any upcoming shows where Miss Petrova is performing?” He asked remembering you were a student still under a false name. The woman on the other side of the line sighed and sleepily answered you would be performing for 2 shows of The Nutcracker for the NYC Ballet Fall Gala at the David H. Koch Theater in three days time. “While you are at it I will need a ticket for the best seat on the right balcony. Private access, don’t care about the price just make it happen” the woman agreed and then hang up.

Satoru’s plane landed at night time in New York City and just like the last time he had s limousine waiting for him to take him to his suite at The Plaza. It felt it had been a lifetime ago when he last saw you in this very city.

He wanted to go find you but he swore to himself he would refrain from doing something stupid. He was here to see you in secret, without bothering you. He promised to himself he would respect your wishes and wouldn’t intrude your space.

He prepared himself for the Gala, wearing a black Armani suite, choosing to wear his dark Versace round sunglasses to match his style. Giving himself a good look in the mirror he smirked, well… at least he still got it. He was handsome and looked literally like a million bucks.

With a little boost to his confidence he left the suite and went to the theater where he would watch you perform that evening. As he walked towards the entrance to the main hall he saw your picture on a two gigantic banners, the advertisement for tonight’s show with your beautiful face, smiling and your body on a ‘grand battement’ pose wearing a beautiful cream colored tutu with golden roses carefully sown, your shoulders naked and the deep v cut of the corset showing off slightly your beautiful breasts, you were perfect… an angel. His heart stopped for a second. You were… absolutely gorgeous. He noticed on the picture that you had returned your hair to your favorite tone and your eyes shone brightly accentuated by an alluring cat eye make up that complimented your features, the image was enchanting. Truly a vision.

——-> Chapter 13 / Part 3

Tags: @sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@okkotsuoasis

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon

@janenks

#gojo x you #jjk #gojo saturo x reader #jjkgojo #gojo x female reader #gojo smut #gojo x y/n

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bridgertonbabe · 3 years ago

Note

ik ur not a writer on the show or anything, i just need to get this idea out there that we need a parallel of sophie during their season grumbling "how long do i have to stay like this" when benedict tries to draw her profile, as a reference to when he jokes when posing for tessa and goes "how long do i have to stay like this". cause they're born incredibly impatient people

ik ur not a writer on the show or anything - I know, but ugh I wish!

I'd love to see such a scene during their stay at My Cottage. Sophie's sat by Benedict's bedside and he's been getting back into his art during the course of their time there but he doesn't know what to sketch next. Sophie would jokingly suggest he draw her and playfully pull a little pose, but just as she went to read her book, Benedict would throw his legs out of bed and starting positioning her just like Tessa did with him. He'd move her chair back (with Sophie still sat in it) until the light from the window hit her just right, he'd drape her arm over the back of the chair, and then angle her face by moving her chin. When he got her where he wanted, his fingers still on her face, they'd look intently at one another - something passing between them - before Benedict pulled away and cleared his throat to return to his bed and his sketchbook. He'd start to draw her and Sophie remains in place, frozen mainly due to how she hadn't been expecting to be his model or to be maneuvered by him into place. She holds her breath as she processes what is going on until he reminds her to breathe with a jovial tone in his voice. She takes longer to complain than Benedict did when he sat for Tessa. "How long do I have to stay like this?" she would ask him after a good twenty minutes but he'd simply chuckle in response; "Patience is a virtue, Sophie." Despite her impatience she managed to stay put for another hour and a half until Benedict was finished, and when he showed her the finished sketch, Sophie found her aches from holding such a pose were all in fact worth it. She had never been sketched before and after seeing Benedict's piece, she doesn't wish for anyone else to ever draw her but him.

#asks #benophie #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #art!couple #sophie x benedict

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leejeongz · 4 years ago

Text

jealous treasure (asahi-junghwan)

🔅i’m gonna use another member in each one because it’s easier than making up a whole new person and explaining a bit about them for each one if that makes sense. but this is just for fun, it’s fictitious, remember that pls🔅

find the other members here

🌷 asahi:

“it’s wednesday” junkyu announced. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to say whatever was in his brain, but today the other boys decided to humour him a little and asked him to elaborate.

“we should wear pink” he clarified as if everyone should know. asahi rolled his eyes, you’d been pestering asahi to tell junkyu to watch mean girls since well, forever, and that now he’d finally watched it, he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“but you’re not wearing any pink” asahi pointed out after scanning his whole body.

junkyu corrected him by fetching the hoodie he was expecting to wear. it was a soft, baby pink colour, with a little heart on the pocket right in the middle. asahi recognised it straight away.

“where did you get that?” he asked. junkyu couldn’t lie, he’d been caught red handed.

“from your closet” he confessed “but you always wear it and i thought i might look cute in it, can i wear it just for one day?” he begged with pleading eyes.

“hm let me think” asahi put his hand to his chin with sarcasm written all over his face “no” he snatched it from junkyu’s hands. “why would you wear y/n’s hoodie anyway?” he asked

“i-” junkyu stuttered “i didn’t know it was theirs” he said while assessing the situation “but are you really jealous right now? i didn’t know you were the type” he laughed, drawing the attention of the other members.

“no” he scoffed, “i’m not jealous, i just don’t think that they would want you wearing their hoodie. you smell” he spat out, turning his back and heading for his room.

“someone call y/n” junkyu said, wanting you to hear what a jealous man your boyfriend really is.

“don’t you have something better to do, like finding your own pink hoodie, you know, like the one you never take off your own back?” asahi snaps back, referring to the infamous pink hoodie from junkyu’s trademark outfit. as he leaves the living room, asahi takes a hesitant sniff at the jumper, hoping junkyu hasn’t infected it with his scent so much so that it no longer smells of you.

🍄 yedam:

having been stuck inside your house for what felt like a year, you were grateful and willing to accept any invitation to leave. today’s invite came from your boyfriend, yedam, who’d recently been too busy working to come and see you, which was completely understandable. he’d asked if you’d like to join him and a few of his friends on a walk around a nearby park, you of course said yes.

with beautiful scenery came the chance to take beautiful pictures. noticing that your boyfriend was too preoccupied by the ice cream van, you asked one of his friends, jeongwoo, to take a picture of you by the fountain. he agreed and instructed you on how to pose so that it wouldn’t look awkward. you followed his advice and managed to get a few shots. you walked back over to jeongwoo, who innocently stood with your phone in his hand, when you saw your boyfriend come rushing over.

“what are you doing with their phone?” he questioned “they let you take photos of them?” he spat out in a hurt manner.

“yes…” jeongwoo replied before you stepped in.

“how much are they?” you asked, pointing in the ice cream van’s direction, not understanding what all the commotion was about.

“apparently they’re all out of ice cream” he mocked “but why did you let him take photos of you? that’s my job” he pouted with a soft tone to his voice.

“ooo our yedam is all soft for y/n” jeongwoo jeered which, judging by the look yedam gave back to him, was not appropriate. “it was just 3 pictures” jeongwoo clarified “the model isn’t that easy to work with anyway, they have no fresh ideas of their own to spice up my business” he scoffed jokingly while handing your phone back to you, causing yedam to finally crack a smile.

“⅕ stars, pictures came out wonky and the photographer is bossy, unlike my lovely yedam” you smiled, playing into the joke. it wasn’t long before yedam was back to his usual cheerful self and had also finally decided that an iced tea was a good substitute for ice cream too.

🧶doyoung:

there was a lot of things in your house that didn’t make sense, but the worst was definitely the paintings hung up in your room that you’d never gotten around to taking down, mainly because you couldn’t reach them but shhh. you’d always been too shy to ask doyoung, knowing he’d laugh at you and tease you for being too short to reach them, and given you hadn’t been together for that long, you weren’t sure how much you’d appreciate that being your first inside joke.

a friend of yours, jihoon, had come over to your house while doyoung was there, which wasn’t exactly an issue, he knew you and jihoon were friends and he respected that. the three of you often gossiped and gamed together, it was a common thing these days.

“i tell you this every time im here but those are so ugly y/n, please take them down” jihoon glanced up, locking eyes with the spooky man in the painting and shuddering.

“i can’t reach” you joked, forgetting your boyfriend was also there.

“i’ll do it then” jihoon announced, standing up and reaching each painting easily.

“i could have done that” doyoung whispered under his breath while staring at you. you turned to your left to see your boyfriend's unimpressed face. “why did you let him do it?” he questioned, seeming really quite angry.

“he offered, i wasn’t gonna say no” you defended yourself. jihoon took this as his queue to leave and take the artwork elsewhere, he didn’t know where, but anywhere was better than being in that room with you two.

“is it because of his big muscles? is it because you value his opinion more than mine?” doyoung asked, laughing at his own thoughts and how ridiculous they were but possibly true.

“no” you rolled your eyes before making eye contact again “its because he offered” you repeated.

“and if i offered?” he asked, expecting you to say that you would have declined.

“obviously i would have said yes” you replied, “they were horrible i don’t care who got them down i just wanted them gone”

“oh” he sat back and relaxed into the pillow “well i’m glad they’re gone. i didn’t like to say it, but they were creepy” he laughed with you. “the next thing to go is him though” he joked, seeing jihoon walk back into your room, which of course was replied to with a scoff from your sassy friend.

💥haruto:

your sleeping pattern was well and truly out of the window, so you decided to stay up and call one of your friends that you knew would be awake, hyunsuk. he was just like you, you both slept at 4am and woke up at 2pm, so he wasn’t that shocked when you called, wide awake like him.

“where’s haruto? wasn’t he supposed to be staying at your place tonight?” he asked, genuinely concerned about his friend. you flipped the camera to show your bed, where a certain sleepy haruto lay, peacefully entering dreamland. “he’s so cute” hyunsuk giggled, you cooed in agreeance, he really was the cutest.

you stayed on call for about an hour. you were currently laughing about the tiktok he’d just sent to you, your humour was exactly the same too so it’s wasn’t hard for you to crack the other up. all the commotion woke your boyfriend, whose bed head was clearly visible in the reflection of your opened laptop when he sat up.

“did we wake you?” hyunsuk laughed upon hearing a groan from his friend.

“we?” haruto responded in a sleepy voice. “who’s we?”

“uhh us” you pointed between you and the phone.

“y/n? hyunsuk?” he snapped out of his sleepy state quickly. “why are you two up at this time and on the phone together?” you looked at hyunsuk on the screen and smiled, trying to hold in your laughter. “turn that off and come to bed, i want cuddles, and i want you to get some sleep, unlike him” he flung himself back at the bed, only inches away from hitting his head on the headboard.

“wait for me” hyunsuk joked in a teasing tone.

“no, not you” haruto whined. “just y/n please” he smiled closing his eyes and opening his arms, ready for you to join him.

“i guess this is goodnight then” you said to hyunsuk, which haruto followed up with a goodnight for his friend too before you put the phone down.

“now, cuddles please!”

♟jeongwoo:

for jaehyuk’s birthday this year, he asked for a small gathering, just close friends, which you of course are included in since you and jeongwoo had been together for over 2 years now. when you arrived, you quickly gauged the atmosphere of the party was pretty light and fun, it wasn’t oppressive in the slightest. usually parties you attended were fully kitted out with loud music, dimly lit rooms and a bunch of strangers in every room, instead your friends were in the living room, just chatting and laughing.

“you came!” jaehyuk screeched, running over to hug you. “oh and you bought a plus one, jeongwoo” he joked around with your boyfriend, who just rolled his eyes in response.

it wasn’t long before the boys delved into the games cupboard and pulled out the “who’s most likely to” box. the oldest of the boys shuffled the cards and took the top one which read “who’s the funniest”. whenever you played, this one always seemed to come out first, so you changed your answer every time to please everyone.

you turned around your board with the name “jaehyuk” written on it. your eyes scanned the room to see almost everyone had his name written on their boards, probably because it was his party after all. you quickly diverted your eyes away, however, when you saw that jeongwoo had written your name, which should have made you feel happy but instead, you felt quite guilty for not writing his.

the game went on, and your name wasn’t written on jeongwoo’s board ever again, despite you putting his for almost everything positive. the rest of the evening, jeongwoo didn’t come near you at all, everyone noticed, everyone questioned it, it was so obvious that he was jealous, but there was no way he was admitting to it.

as you got ready to leave, you glanced over at the boy who was supposed to be staying with you tonight, sat firmly in his place on the sofa.

“jeongwoo, aren’t you coming?” you shouted from the door. “jaehyuk is staying here so you don’t have to worry about him” you teased, everyone else smiling at you and giggling silently.

“fine” he grunted. you made up on the way home, he couldn’t even remember how it all started, he just “wanted to make a point” which, sure, he did.

🌍junghwan:

you and junghwan never got to spend much time together before you became friends with the members since he was always with them or at school, which is why he’s never complained or showed any jealousy when you are with them.

today you headed over to their dorms to relax and play when you remembered, today was the day of junghwan’s english exam. you pulled out your phone and dropped him a quick good luck text before continuing your journey.

yoshi brought you up to his room where he said you could chill for a bit since everyone else was still sleeping, other than those who had school of course. yoshi began to ask you lots of questions, you learnt a lot about each other in that hour or so, and the conversation was flowing so well that you didn’t hear the door.

“y/n, you did remember?!” junghwan asked excitedly, clapping his hands while smiling from ear to ear. “you came all the way here to see me after i finished?”

“remember what?” you asked, bewildered. “your exam? yeah i sent you a text, i’m sorry i didn’t realise until i was over half way here else i would have gone to see you first” you confessed, feeling guilty. his face dropped at your honest words.

“you mean you came all the way here just to see yoshi?” he asked. “everyone else was in the kitchen, but you two were in here… alone…?” disappointed in your reasoning and forgetfulness, he slowly backed out of the room. he wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. he wanted to feel sad and upset, but did you really do anything wrong, he thought. “you couldn’t have just turned around and gone home”

“well i didn’t want to, i wanted to see my friends. i didn’t realise that most of them didn’t get up until the afternoon” you walked closer to him, praying that he didn’t try and get away. “i’m sorry i forgot about your exam”

he shuffled closer to you. you’d never argued before, and he wasn’t sure how to respond, so he hoped a hug would go down well. as he hugged you, he whispered his own apology into you hair “i’m sorry for jumping to conclusions”

#treasure #treasure reactions #treasure imagines #asahi #yedam #bang yedam #doyoung #haruto #jeongwoo #junghwan

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 4 years ago

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 19

The plot fucking thickens.

@dovahdokren @lov3vivian @deadman-inc-bikeshop @scpdragon @wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: implied racism, religiously motivated violence, kidnapping

“So I heard you’re a civilian consultant for the FBI now?” Charissa said through the receiver. “That’s exciting. Are you being paid?”

“Yeah, actually.” You sat up on the bed. “It isn’t a ton, but it’s enough to get by until I can go back to work.”

She groaned. “Why would you want to come back to work here?”

“Well, for one,” You laughed. “I’d get to see my best friend in person.”

“Are you sure you can’t give me just a little hint as to where you’re hiding out?” She pleaded. “No pressure, but you left your umbrella at the restaurant and it’s just been sitting in my car this whole time.”

“Oh shit, I was wondering where that was.” You held the phone between your shoulder and your ear so you could reach for a Russian chocolate from Hannibal’s bedside table. You popped one through your lips and held it in your cheek. “Thanks dude.”

You could hear the smirk on Charissa’s face. “So did you ever get the sommelier to call you?”

You wanted so badly to tell your best friend every juicy detail, but your acute paranoia held you back. You couldn’t risk putting making Hannibal and Will targets. But then again, it was Charissa.

“You’d better not tell anyone about this or else I’ll sever your spine with my goddamn teeth.” You threatened.

Your friend’s ears perked up. “Go on.”

You looked around the room for any sign of Hannibal and to make sure Will hadn’t gotten home yet. When you knew the coast was clear, you cupped your hand over the speaker. “We totally just fucked.”

Charissa pretended to be shocked. “Oh my god, I could have never seen that coming!”

“But that’s not all.” You shushed her. “The guy that saved me from getting blown up, the FBI agent, I’m sleeping with him too!”

“You slut!” She cursed, playfully. “I didn’t think you had it in you to sneak around.”

“No, no!” You whispered. “That’s the best part! They’re into each other too. So we have, like, an agreement.”

“Like a throuple?”

“Not ‘like’ a throuple.” You corrected. “Just a throuple.”

“Dayum, girl.” She said. “You truly have become the alpha female.”

“Darling?” Hannibal called out from downstairs. He sounded worried.

“Is that him?” Charissa asked. “Are you with him right now?”

“Okay, goodbye.” You said before abruptly ending the call.

You descended the stairs and found him in the living room. “What’s wrong?”

He said nothing, letting the television answer you.

“At approximately six this evening, Evangelical pastor Calvin J. Armitage was arrested for firing the first shot in what would become a deadly shootout with the FBI.” The anchor said. “Entering the megachurch premises to ask questions about the still-open Baltimore Butcher case, Agent Crawford of the Behavioral Science Unit is on site for an exclusive interview.”

Jack looked deeply shaken, and had blood stained all over his jacket. He drew in a deep breath before speaking.

“Special agent Graham and I arrived at the church with the intention of asking Pastor Armitage about his relationship to Chase Mulvaney.” He began. “He was compliant to begin with, then became defensive. He then called the local police, claiming that a-”

Jack paused, a look of slight disgust on his face for what he was about to say.

“-A large black man posing as a federal agent was threatening him.” He finished. “He then held us at gunpoint until the police showed up. While I verified my identity to the chief, Pastor Armitage opened fire, shooting me once in the shoulder, then ran. Special Agent Graham went after him. Then both men disappeared. We believe Armitage is holding Graham hostage, but upon further inspection, we have seen no signs of either man in the church.”

You covered your mouth with your fingertips, too afraid to acknowledge anything with words. Hannibal gently placed his hand on your leg and looked into your eyes.

"Listen to me, [F/N]." He said, desperation in his voice. "You need to tell me what you and Will figured out from the investigation, and fast. Any information at all could tell where he might have taken him."

"The Blue Ridge mountains." You answered with more certainty than was warranted. "He took Will to the mountains just like in Borrasca."

"That's over six hundred miles of land, not including altitude." Hannibal pointed out.

You pressed your fingers to your temples in attempt to slow your thoughts. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Please, just tell me anything about Chase that could narrow it down.” He pleaded.

“He has a ministry.” You blurted out. “In the Blue Ridge Mountains. Something luxurious, meant for Christian women.”

Hannibal bolted to the office to find his computer. “That’s a start. Keep going.”

You snapped your fingers to try and kickstart your memory. “Chase is a narcissist, but not a creative one. He stole his title from NXIVM and his cult personality from Handmaid’s Tale. I think that means he doesn’t understand satire.”

Hannibal’s fingers danced across the keyboard, filling the silent house with frantic clicking. “That also means the name of his ministry might be a thinly-veiled reference to something he doesn’t understand as well. What else?”

You tugged at your hair. “I don’t know, how far could he have gotten in the last three hours?”

“It doesn’t take very long to get from the city to the mountains.” Hannibal answered. “They could be anywhere by now.”

You groaned. “We don’t have that kind of time. Hold on a minute, let me get my laptop.”

Unsurprisingly, Chase had scrubbed the internet clean of every trace of himself. You were forced to read between the lines. You scoured every ex-fundamentalist forum you could find. You posted on every subreddit that had anything to do with evangelical ministries. You opened dozens of tabs with everything from a PDF of the Handmaid’s Tale to case files of class action lawsuits in Frederick County.

Minutes turned into hours and the hours stacked up. You had to hit yourself in the face every time you felt yourself drifting off.

“What are you doing?” Hannibal asked, after a particularly loud slap.

“Trying to keep myself awake.” You said over a poorly-timed yawn. You knocked yourself against the temple a few more times. “Come on you sack of shit, wake up.”

Hannibal snatched you by the wrist. "Stop that this instant."

"Why should I?" You said, on the verge of angry tears. "Will is probably fucking dead and it's my fault, so yeah, I'm a sack of shit."

"Don't say that." Hannibal tightened his grip on your wrist. "He's not dead and it is certainly not your fault."

"I can't sleep knowing Chase took him." You admitted. "I just can't."

Hannibal sat down next to you. He cupped your face in his hand and rolled the tears away from your cheeks.

Hannibal opened his computer. "We'll sleep in shifts. Send me everything you have so far. You'll sleep better knowing I'm looking for him."

"Fine." You said, dumping a handful of links into a document and sending it to his email. You decided to go to sleep right there on the couch with your laptop in arm's reach, so when your shift was up, you could get straight back to work. You drifted off to the ambient noises of Hannibal typing away.

You woke up to your text notification sound.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #the sommelier #will graham #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x reader #will graham x reader #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannigram #hannigram x you

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suddenlysackler · 4 years ago

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Limelight

Adam Sackler x Reader

TW: N/A (maybe a lil smidge of angst but nothing major)

A/N: This has been on the back burner for quite a bit and it’s a tad messy but I wanted to put it out for you all because I miss you and I miss my goblin bf and, ya know, Cannes 2021. Thank you for reading, I’m hopeful that I’ll be back more frequently in the coming weeks!

...

Adam Sackler had ascertained very quickly that he did not care for red carpets in the slightest.

Given what he had found himself struggling through his late teens and seemingly all of his twenties, the relief of finally, finally, finally achieving some sort of steady stream of work and establishing himself as a serious actor provided relief that he could not be more grateful for.

He liked being able to turn down the $800 a month from his grandmother and moving out of his apartment for good this time, trading up for some swanky new town house in upper Manhattan. He liked being able to afford to be choosy about what jobs he took and he liked that he was able to split his time between stage and screen. Hell, he’d even tried his hand at directing some dumb indie film that landed him right smack dab in the middle of Sundance.

Which is when he found out he hated red carpets.

He absolutely hated the insincerity of all of it — the rushed interviews, the posing for what seemed like hours on end for photographs that he’d probably never even see and he wasn’t allowed to smile for exactly like he’d want to. He hated answering the same questions over and over again and rubbing elbows with reporters from tabloids asking about off screen romances and making it blatantly clear to him that they weren’t interested in the art he had just helped create.

Along the way, maybe five red carpet events into his career, he met you. To his surprise, he didn’t meet you through a mutual friend or at a party or by yelling at you to stop taking food from open containers in the store he was working in. He met you because he accidentally took your coffee on a Wednesday morning before you could grab it and you promptly chased him down 45th street and cussed him out by using every single insult you could manage.

And that’s when things just clicked for him.

Everything fell into place after you came into his life and suddenly he felt even more fulfilled than he originally figured was even possible. He liked coming home to you after long days on set or at the theater. He liked bringing you to see different projects he was working on during production or bringing you to advanced screenings or dress rehearsals. Whenever he got a script, you were the first one he talked to about whether or not to even try for the role. He never wanted to object you to the horror that was a red carpet.

Not until now, anyway.

It was the first time that you had happened to be available for one and, yeah, he had invited you to all of the ones he had been to since you had been together but he didn’t necessarily want to take you. Of all of the things in his world that he wanted to show you, premiere events were the one thing he wanted to shelter you from. You knew about the drinking, the philandering of his early to mid twenties, the string of psycho ex girlfriends who he swore might show up at your shared doorstep at any given time to rip him a new one. Despite all of that shit, you’d some how managed to still like him, love him even. He didn’t want to chase you away with the bullshit that came with his career.

Maybe this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back?

You’d said yes without hesitation and his stomach dropped. He knew you never turned down an excuse to dress up, to impress him and make him feel proud of the fact that you were his girl, just his. So, on the night of the Tony Awards, he sat in the hotel room his manager had reserved for the two of you to get ready with the help of a team of aestheticians and hair dressers and tailors watching you twirl in what was probably the most expensive ball gown you would ever wear in childlike delight. Music of your choice played softly on someone’s phone and you could hardly stay still enough for the finishing touches that were being pushed into your face. You looked and felt like a million bucks and Adam knew that, but how was he supposed to enjoy it? He was too preoccupied with figuring out what he would do if you freaked out on him, threatened to leave him or some shit, after the circus act you were about to parade through in order to get to your final destination of the night.

“You look handsome.” You called from the chair you had been forced into, eyes opened wide for quick swipes of mascara.

Adam was so far gone, lost in his thoughts and strapped with worry. He didn’t hear you compliment him. He didn’t see you get up and he felt as though the force of you slotting yourself between his slightly parted legs was a ghost of a touch. “Hey, doll.” He mumbled when he finally did notice you.

One of your eyebrows quirked up. “You good, Adam?”

He sensed some wavering in your voices, maybe some concern. Maybe some doubt? “I’m okay, just hate this shit.”

The other eyebrow followed the first. “What do you mean you hate this shit?” You ask as his publicist swept into the room and began to shoo the two of you out the door and down to stand for pictures and questions.

He held your hand tightly as you weaved down the hall and into the elevator. “I just don’t like this part.” He shrugged and you squeeze his hand as you listen. “Worried it’ll bug you as much as it bugs me.”

“I mean, I’d walk over hot coals to see you in a tux.” You teased, eyes bright. When he doesn’t shoot back with a response characteristic of his normally playful bravado, some of that brightness leaves your expression. “You know I’m just happy to be with you, right? I’m proud of you.”

Adam hummed in response and squeezed your hand back. “I know.”

You weren’t having his clipped answers. “I don’t care that there are going to be pictures or tons of people watching. You know that shit won’t make me think differently of you.”

He remained quiet after giving you another shrug, still completely scared out of his mind that your words were just that, words. That you’d hit the ground running and never look back as soon as you realized just what supporting him at these things entailed.

The silence lasted for the rest of the elevator ride, through the lobby, and in the limousine and in the little holding room they put you in that is riddled with all of the snacks he would tease you for indulging in had the circumstances been different. He was tense, his muscles tight, tight, tight from his jaw to his calves, knee bouncing and free hand clenching and unclenching right until the moment his name was called.

The moment wasn’t awful to begin with. It’s mostly pausing and stopping a lot of times for Adam to take pictures while you watch from the sidelines and, every so often, he pulls you in for a few. He doesn’t tell you that, in the moments he doesn’t have his arm around you, that isn’t kissing your cheek chastely and holding your hand, that he feels like he’s drowning.

It didn’t phase you as you listened to reporters hound him about his female costar and whether or not they were seeing each other. It really didn’t even phase you when one man asked you to “step aside” and referred to you as Adam’s friend, despite his tight grip on your waist and the tender glances his stole every twenty seconds or so. And honestly, you didn’t really care that you might have gotten jostled up a little bit by photographers and other reporters as you stepped aside, more than happy to speed up the process for Adam.

But Adam would not have that, not at all.

“We’re fuckin’ done.” Adam growled, his eyes locking on your face as soon as he noticed you stumble a bit. He left without another word to any of the reporters and looked for his publicist, who was beyond livid at the fact that Adam was blowing off his responsibilities without much of an explanation. Before he went up to him, he grabbed your hand and dragged you along with him, not saying another word.

After a hushed but tense back and forth between the two men, the three of you stepped out of the view of the public and quickly found one of the many green rooms for invited guests to cool down and touch up hair and make up before heading into the venue.

He paced and paced and paced for a long moment, leaving you to sit on the couch and watch with bated breath, praying that his older destructive tendencies didn’t suddenly find their way back to the surface of his psyche.

After a long while, you finally spoke. “Can you come here?” You whispered, eyes round and, to be frank, a bit desperate.

Adam came to you without a moment’s hesitation and knelt in front of you, placing his head in your lap and putting your hands in his hair. “Are you going to leave me tonight?” He mumbled into the tulle of your dress.

A soft smile crossed your lips and you shook your head, then moved to cup his cheeks and lift his face up to look at your own. “Now why would I even consider doing that?” You hummed.

“After that shit show? Any sane person would leave.”

“Whoever said I was sane? Isn’t that why you like me?”

He chuckled at that and nodded, biting back a comment about how anyone would have to be insane to want to stay with him for as long as you had. “That was just some totally bullshit and you know it, doll.”

You shrugged and shook your head once more. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’ve had my fair share of total bullshit with old haunts showing up on our doorstep, huh?” You made sure to keep your tone teasing, not wanting him to feel as though he needed to shoulder any of the blame for the situation.

Adam laughed again and relaxed visibly for the first time all night. “Do you want to even stay?” He asked, his own voice a bit more reassured.

“Of course I want to stay, you’re up for an award, dummy.” You giggle, letting your head fall back as he moved up to pepper your exposed neck with kisses and playful bites. “And there’s the after party — I heard there’s going to be some damn good desserts and music.”

He flashed you a smirk when he pulled back and stood, then offered his hand to you. “What is it you always say when I ask to eat out on the way home from shit?” He proposed.

You stood and took his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing before walking toward the door. “What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Adam’s smirk only widened as he held the door open for you and smacked your ass before letting you go. “We have dessert at home.”

#Adam Sackler #Sackler #adam x reader #adam sackler x reader #sackler x reader #reader self insert #adam sackler fic #sackler fic #adcu #adcu reader insert #adcu fic

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 4 years ago

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winter in itaewon || Choi Beomgyu

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x gamer!fem!reader

Genre/s: Fluff; Angst; Humor (if you squint)

Word count: 5,0k

Warning/s: it is implied that reader was subject to violence (once); although it says the reader is a gamer, there are not that many references towards to actual gaming lmao; this was proofread like once (😭)

Hyunjin and Jeongin take Beomgyu out to the PC Room in Itaewon for his birthday; a year after their last visit. As he reminisces the events of the year before, every corner of his mind is revisited by her — as if he were capable of forgetting her anyway.

a/n: happy beomgyu day!!💞 the inspiration to write this hit me in the middle of the night, coming from these kickass headcannons by sumi, and it's completely different to the initial idea i shared with amie sksjsjs alsothislowkeysucks. nevertheless, i hope you all enjoy!!

12 March 2021, 23:30

Despite being embraced by his thick padded coat, the freezing air still managed to disrupt the warmth in annoying, sharp gusts every time the wind blew. Itaewon was always more alive while the rest of Seoul slept soundly, and tonight was no exception. The streets were aglow with the lambent signage of the many stalls and establishments which lined it’s pavements, and were filled with clusters of people who either visited the stores, window-shopped or were simply enjoying the night-life.

Beomgyu wasn’t very enthusiastic about joining Hyunjin and Jeongin when they had initially posed the idea. He’d been spending much of his time in the studio and practice room, so the plan was to get some sleep when he had some free time. His conscience eventually got the better of him, though – he hadn’t been able to meet up with his friends in months due to work and the pandemic, and his scheduled birthday live thwarted the possibility of holding it off until the following day.

“Are you good?” Jeongin asked, pulling Beomgyu out of his thoughts, arching a brow at his dazed friend. He noticed that he had been lagging behind the two of them, and that their features were now etched with concern. Beomgyu pushed the bangs out of his face before waving them off, mumbling that he’s okay.

There was a look in their eyes that Beomgyu couldn’t quite decipher, but pushed it off as nothing when Jeongin draped an arm over his shoulder and lead him further down the street. His feet stopped squarely when they made it to the PC Room, cementing themselves before the front door. Jeongin looked at Beomgyu and smiled.

“Are you coming in?”

It wasn’t that Beomgyu didn’t want to respond, he simply couldn’t. Sure, it may have seemed like a trivial thing to answer, the words just wouldn’t formulate coherent sentences – his mind didn’t have the capacity to make them. Her. That was the only thing it could manifest. Her.

The pressure of a years-worth of his bottled emotions had finally blew it’s top – thoughts, images and memories which had been ingrained into his subconscious coming forth to hit him like a train.

“We’ll wait for you inside, then.”

31 December 2019, 22:00

Laughter ringing through the air, Hyunjin, Jeongin and Beomgyu pushed open the door to the PC Room. Beomgyu stopped at the door while the other two signed in, arms rubbing away the remnants of snow on the arms of his black coat. Removing his mask, he smiled into the warmth of the heated building. Their schedules after debut had left no space for any recreation, so it was liberating to spend New Years Eve with his friends, doing what he does best.

“Ready to have your butts kicked?” Beomgyu cackled, with his whole chest, as they took their seats next to one another in the isle, earning him much-deserved glares. As soon as he’s logged on and the headset is donned however, his usually playful demeanour is replaced by one of a much calmer nature – studying the map, observing enemy tactics and carefully directing his support as his fingers glide skilfully across the keyboard.

Hyunjin groaned after the umpteenth attempt to beat him, dropping the headset onto the desk as Jeongin whined into his hands. A smirk rolled onto Beomgyu’s lips as he leaned back into the swivel chair, flashing his brows at them. “I refuse to believe this is possible, it’s got to be rigged!”

“Ah, after all this time I’ve still got it,” Beomgyu retorted, chuffed with himself for doing as well as he knew he would. Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if I ranked first with the amount of times I kicked ass on this server.”

Jeongin, who had taken it upon himself to do the fact-checking, smirked at the screen before calling the two of them over. “Actually–”

Beomgyu screamed in frustration, tossing the headset onto the desk before pushing against it, sending him flying across the floor in the chair. No matter how hard he tried, no matter the strategy he just couldn’t beat the player in first place. The commotion startled the other two, who had fallen asleep waiting for Beomgyu to finish up, the satisfaction of witnessing his losses long past.

“Just one more game, I swear!” he whined as they dragged him away from the PC screen.

Hyunjin seethed, “that’s what you said three hours ago! No, we’re leaving. Jeongin’s parents have been waiting up for us.”

Beomgyu huffed at the front counter. While the older took care of the bill, he found that the room was completely empty – almost. The light emanating from a desk directly across from where he stood, lit up the face of a young-looking girl. She seemed to be in high school (that’s what the uniform she wore indicated atleast) and the big, round, metal-framed glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, mirrored the computer screen. The sight pacified Beomgyu, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, a smile stretching across his face.

He sauntered closer, eyes searching around for nothing in particular, trying not to look like a creep as he approached you. His smile only grew when he found her eyebrows knitted together, teeth biting down on her bottom lip in concentration. And then he saw it. The graphics reflecting from her glasses seeming all to familiar to him, he rushed around the desk, eyes darting to the top corner of the screen.

ID: winter996

12 January 2020, 22:30

Beomgyu’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited at the desk closest to the entrance, checking his watch every few minutes, before running a frustrated hand through his soft silvery locks. He had finally gotten the chance to visit the PC room again, most of his time having gone into practice and rehearsals for award show season, and he wasn’t leaving until he saw you again.

He ran out of the practice room as soon as he heard that they would have the following day off; he was exhausted and had been waiting for almost two hours – but he refused to leave until he saw you again.

The owner noticed the boy sitting at the desk he usually reserved for you, lips curling at the sight of the fidgety youth. He had visited on three prior occasions; once with his friends, and the remaining times himself, sitting in exactly the same spot he was now sitting. Instead of chasing him away as he did everyone else, he simply waited to see how this turn of events would unfold.

You pushed open the glass doors with a huff, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder before blowing the stray hairs from your face. Keeping your eyes fixed on the ground beneath you, you nod to the owner and he returns the gesture with a smile, although he knows you won’t see it.

Beomgyu, who had almost surrendered himself to the fatigue, sat up straight when you pulled back the chair next to him. He watched as you scrunched up your nose in attempt to push your glasses up the bridge of your nose before putting the headset on, and chuckled softly.

He watched in awe as you cleared level after level, climbing the ranks as you went along, with seemingly no effort whatsoever. You kept the mic off and communicated with your group though the chat, which was probably why he never realised you were a girl. Your strategy seemed way too complex for him to understand, and his amazement never faltered for even a second, as you dominated each and every position you played.

It was a little over an hour before you decided to take a break, wondering where the owner was since he usually brought your snacks around that time. Pushing the headset around your neck, you stretched upward to see where he was, only to find yourself roughly pushed back down and turned toward a strange boy whom you’ve never seen before.

His eyes, sparkling with absolute wonder, coaxed your surprise and made your heart race with a feeling as unfamiliar as he was.

“You have to tell me how you do that! Teach me, please, Winter996!”

25 January 2020, 22:30

“Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” you voice rang from the speaker of Beomgyu’s phone. He never questioned your reasons for not turning your mic on during the game, but insisted that you speak directly to him instead. “On your left, be careful.”

“I know, I see them. And yes, but I have some time before the next session starts.” After much pestering, about something having to do with ‘senseis’ and ‘disciples’, you agreed to let Beomgyu play with you. He was rather beside himself when you told him you never really used any strategy, though; you ‘just did what felt right’.

An adorable smile had tugged at your lips during his three hundred-and-fifty paged slideshow about the importance of strategy and observation, one he would not soon forget.

“You could just wait until Itaewon.”

“Is it my fault you only go when your rank drops?”

Soobin’s dark head of hair popped into the studio, and he glared upon finding Beomgyu tapping away at his laptop on the sofa. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! The break as been over ages ago–”

“(Y/n), (Y/n), go, go! I’ll cover you!”

“Beomgyu, I think–”

“You’re playing again?! With a girl?!”

5 February 2020, 22:00

You’re quieter than usual and Beomgyu noticed right away. Over the phone, you never had any qualms in conversating with him– when you were playing the game, atleast. The thought that it was because of him does cross his mind, but he catches the frown you’re desperately trying to hide, by biting the inside of your cheek.

A thick scarf is wrapped around your neck, your chin buried into the red woolly folds, and your hair frames your face, but he sees the light swelling on the side of your face and around your eyes that you’re trying to hide. The feeling in the pit of his stomach makes his nails press crescents into the palms of his hands, but he fights the urge to ask.

“Beomgyu! What are you doing! They’re coming!” you yell, pulling him back to reality, hearing the sound of your voice at long last calming him a tad.

“Right, sorry.”

You played together straight through into the early hours of the morning, sharing victory after victory, with him right by your side. You froze up when he instinctively pulled you into a hug upon your last win, gulping as he slowly removed his arms, laughing it off as his adrenaline high peaked higher.

The van’s horn blared outside, catching you both off guard. Beomgyu quickly grabbed his coat before making his way back up the way he came, but paused before he opened the door. Craning his head back to look at you once more, he smiled.

“I’ll text you later.”

12 February 2020, 23:30

Beomgyu’s hands move quickly across the controls, your voice shouting orders to him through the headset as the current game hit it’s climax. Playing with Beomgyu all the time had made you a lot more comfortable with engaging with the other members of your group, so although you were still pretty anxious at first, you made the decision to turn on your mic.

“We did it!” Beomgyu cheered as your team cleared yet another level.

Gaming was something mundane to you and winning was easy; but sneaking out to the PC Room from time to time helped alleviate the pressures of your personal life. The life which you would rather die than share with Beomgyu. But after being swayed by his nonsensical attempts at convincing you, logging onto the server had become your favorite thing to do.

Every victory felt extraordinary when shared with him, and you could have sworn that at that very moment, you could see the way the ends of his eyes creased as the edges of his lips pushed up his cheeks. The way his arms would be stretched up in happiness, as his intoxicating laugher filled the air.

On the other end, Beomgyu leaned back into his desk chair, smiling into the darkness, envisioning the way you’d be pretending it was no big deal whilst your eyes sparkled with happiness and a smile dug into your rosey cheeks.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

You hummed into the mic, your head rested on the desk and your eyes closed, just listening to his voice, savoring every second of it.

“Do you...have a Valentine or something?”

14 February 2020, 18:00

From the moment the car pulled up down the street, Beomgyu was unable to take his eyes off from you. His eyes travelled up from the scuffed white sneakers which tapped against the pavement nervously, to the washed out jeans, to the oversized cardigan, which bunched up around the wrists of your hands, which shifted between nervously tucking your hair behind your ears, to pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, to straightening out your outfit.

You were going to be the death of him.

He hurried toward you as soon as he saw you shiver. The sound of his soles against the wet concrete caught your attention and you turned in his direction, the look in your eyes nearly resulting in a fatal blow – the way they bewitched nearly had him hitting his head against the sidewalk.

Your hands tightened around the strap of the bag slung around your shoulder as you watched the dark-haired boy make his way down the street to you, a stupidly giddy-looking expression plastered across his face. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the way you did about Beomgyu – even though you knew you shouldn’t.

You were never really interested in fan culture, but some of the girls in your cram school were very invested. When you heard them gushing about a group called ‘Tomorrow X Together’ and it’s members the previous afternoon, a knot formed in your stomach. The first thing you did when you got home, was do research. You decided to listen to all of their albums and watch all of their music videos, interviews and content videos. Unsure what to do with all the new-found information and conflicting emotions, you pulled the covers over your head and tried to sleep instead. But you couldn’t.

Beomgyu flicked the side of your head, bringing you back to the present, and your cheeks flushed upon realization of his proximity. He smirked, wrapping his brown scarf around your neck. “It’s still winter you know, Winter. You should dress warmly.”

You clicked your tongue and pouted at his teasing use of your in-game alias, and marched off without him. He trailed behind you, laughing and relieved that you were no longer frowning as you were before. You froze when he caught up with you, feeling the warmth of his hand as it slipped into yours, tucking it into his coat pocket. Burying your face into his scarf, which smelled just like him, you smiled giddily, letting him pull you along with him.

He took you to dinner and the amusement park after that. He was thrilled to know you liked rollercoasters as much as he did and embarrassed to know he couldn’t even beat you at the kid’s games. He ended up going home with a truckload of new plushies, and you, with ever-increasing feelings that you had no idea what to do with.

28 February 2020, 23:42

Beomgyu burst through the doors of the PC Room no longer than 10 minutes after receiving a call from the owner. He still wore his sleepwear, over which his coat was thrown, his hair was disheveled and his bare left foot was stuffed halfway into a sneaker, while his sock-wearing right foot was slipped into a black slipper.

The owner, with worry painted across his features, cocked his head to the desk where the two of you usually sat. His heart ached at the sight of your curled up figure beneath it. Your bloodshot eyes widened when you realized his presence, the surprise enabling him a few seconds to examine you up and down before you turned away from him. Your bottom lip was cut and bruised, your cheek was swollen and bruises were littered across your face and the length of your arms and neck, your hair as messy as his was.

You insisted that you’re okay, even though he took you into his arms without asking anything at all. You insisted that you’re okay, but as his warmth enveloped you, tears began streaming down your face. He felt the way your body trembled in his arms, so he begins rocking you back and forth slowly, pressing soft kisses into your hair, whispering a single phrase over and over again.

“I’m here.”

4 March 2020, 19:00

Due to the pandemic, one of the award show ceremonies the boys were supposed to attend had been cancelled and moved to a later date. Worried that they’d feel disheartened about their performance, you decided to host a little award ceremony of your own. His friends were as welcoming as he was, so you quickly got along- even more so since Beomgyu stuck even closer to you since that day.

“The first award of the evening,” you announced, clearing your throat in the middle of the living room. The boys, who were cheering your on from their seats on the dorm sofa, quieted down as Yeonjun hushed them, gesturing for you to continue, “goes to a very versatile young man. The winner of the ‘Fourth Generation It Boy – In Everything Except Braincells’ Daesang, goes too, you guessed it, Choi Yeonjun!”

The rest erupted in laughter as an exasperated Yeonjun made his way to where you stood, empty wrappers crackling under his feet. He threw a glare at the boys before he bowed before you in the most formal way possible, and you handed him the pretty mediocre, handmade certificate, before enamored laughter spilled from his lips.

Soobin received an award for being the ‘Best Leader of the Greatest Global Shookies’, to which he sighed. Taehyun received the Grand Award ‘The Best Son, Our King, Vocalist Kang’, which the rest labelled unfair and favoritism. Kai received the ‘Gotta Hit That High Note Like-’ award, which he proudly accepted with absolutely no complaints, beaming at the poorly made certificate.

“And last, but not least,” you started, peaking at Beomgyu from the corner of you eyes, determination almost faltering at the sight of his anticipating countenance. Peering down at the clipboard in your hands, you frowned, “well, I guess that’s all we have for tonight, folks-”

The sound of their hearty laughter filled the dorm once again, Yeonjun nearly toppling over the armrest of the sofa. Beomgyu nodded, tongue in cheek, clearly bothered by the whole ordeal. You joined in on the laughter, before glancing back to the clipboard, your heart rate picking up a little.

“Oh, what’s this?” you feigned surprise, “We have two more awards left! To Choi Beomgyu,” you said, pausing to steady your breath, refusing to make eye contact with him, “goes the award for ‘The Most Annoying Amateur Gamer-” laughter once more, Beomgyu joining in this time, “Best Friend and Utterly Talented All-rounder’. And lastly, to Tomorrow X Together for ‘Best Group of All Time’!” you cheered, relieved that they all got up and cheered as well, without teasing you.

Beomgyu took your hand and slipped the certificate from the board. You may have been embarrassed at the self-proclaimed ‘lousy’ attempt at decorating his certificate, but within seconds, that sheet of colored board became the most important thing to him in the world - his most prized possession. He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and the rest all joined in without a second to spare, endlessly praising you and expressing their affection as you giggled in response.

Later on that evening, after you left and the others were fast asleep, he laid on his bed, limbs splayed across the comforter. He sighed dreamily up at the ceiling, bringing his hands up to cover the bashful grin playing on his lips. He turned his head ever-so slightly, and peeked through the spaces between his fingers at the certificate perched on his night-stand and sighed again.

What was he going to do with you.

13 March 2020, 20:00

You pushed aside everything that had been happening in your life to be happy on your best friend’s birthday. You were convinced it was the least you could do in return for everything he did for you. Deciding to host something small at the PC Room, the owner was pretty enthusiastic to make a contribution to the happiness of his ‘favourite patrons’, you invited his members and some of his closest friends.

Although Beomgyu would have loved to spend the day with just you, he was extremely grateful to know efforts you had made to make him enjoy his day. You had been chattering away with the owner at the front desk, but somewhere amidst conversation with Taehyun, he had lost sight of you. He frowned, apologizing to Taehyun before excusing himself.

Ready to grab his coat and leave, he stopped in his tracks when the lights were shut off. Slowly, the room was illuminated once more, by the flickering flames atop birthday candles, and the enormous smile across your face as you sang, “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,...”

The cake, in the shape of a bear and embellished with chocolate decorations of every variety, was placed on the table in front of where the rest had seated him. Eyes not once leaving you, absolutely entranced by your beauty, Beomgyu gulps, his heart racing a million miles an hour.

“Make a wish, before the wax gets onto the cake, Dummy.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth and flicks the top of your head gently, chuckling softly, before clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. For a reason unknown to him, Beomgyu couldn’t think of something to wish for. No, rather, he knew exactly why he had no idea what to wish for. He opened his eyes once more, and grinned at your anticipating face, the pining in his chest only running deeper and deeper.

He blew out the candles.

“What did you wish for-”

Beomgyu grabbed your hand and pulled you with him as he ran out onto the wet Itaewon streets. You didn’t run too far, before he pulled you into one of the alleyways. Completely lost for words and a little out of breath, you stood there, staring at him. The same puzzled look you had given him when you first met is etched into your face and his lips curl upward. Your breathing hitches as he takes a step closer to you and he pushes the rain-soaked hair from your face, eyes flitting to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

He pulled your chest flush against his and it was quiet for a moment. Quiet, save for the sound of the rain pitter-pattering across the rooftops and the alley floor; quiet, save for the sound of your thumping hearts.

“I love you.”

He feels you tense up, so he tightens his embrace. There is a silence again, and it is a lot less pleasant than the first. The sound of your sniffling alarms him, so he brings your face to meet his, his heart aching at the tears dripping down your face. You start making attempts to break free of his hold, shaking your head and him, whimpers escaping your lips every time you tried to speak.

Tears now streamed down his face too, a piece of him torn away each time you pushed him away. Beomgyu fought desperately to keep you in his arms, but before he knew it, you had slipped right through his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” was the last thing he heard you say through persisting sobs, before you disappeared down the street, without a trace.

30 June 2020

Beomgyu smiled before the cameras and press, laughing along with interviewers and staff members like it was the easiest thing in the world.

You had been missing for over three months. You blocked his number. You didn’t log onto the game, someone else had long taken your position on the leader board. After composing himself that day, he had bolted after you, but it was as if you had vanished off the face of the earth. Beomgyu stopped by the PC Room as much as he could in the following days, his condition only worsening each time he did, but due to the growing numbers of positive cases and the increasing amount of work scheduled for him, the time he spent there was limited.

When he did go, he sat in your chair, staring at the front door until he had to leave. The owner, who had been watching him in sympathy, called him up to the desk one day before he left – the last day the owner saw him. He looked sleep-deprived and downcast, the same pained expression drawn into his features every time he left.

“She... came here a lot. I think her first visit was around the time she was in middle school. She never spoke much, and never seemed to have any friends,” The owner told him, looking out to the isles of computers in front of him, before turning back to Beomgyu. “The first time I saw her talk- no, the first time I saw her smile, was with you. She liked you...alot.”

Beomgyu sighed, with a short, hollow chuckle.

“I know.”

12 March 2021, 23:55

The room was empty and dark when Beomgyu finally walked in, eyebrows knitted together as he tried to see through the darkness. He tried calling out for Hyunjin and Jeongin, but the only replies he received was the wind rattling the window-blinds.

The flickering of candles illuminate the room, just like they did many months ago, and Beomgyu’s heart stopped. He tried to not look disappointed when it turned out to be his members with Hyunjin and Jeongin carrying the cake, singing happy birthday to him with the most excited expressions on their faces, but his throbbing chest betrayed him.

They brought the cake up until where he stood and Yeonjun arched a brow, a knowing smirk rolling onto his lips. “You really do have a wild imagination, don’t you? Ow!” he cried, when Beomgyu hit his arm. “Ugh, just make a wish already.”

Beomgyu clasped his hands tightly before him and squeezed his eyes shut, just as he did before. Only this time, he knew exactly what he wanted. The subject of his pining, worry, and love. Her. He would give anything to see her, just one last time.

And when he opened his eyes, that was exactly what he found in front of him.

“Happy Birthday, Choi Beomgyu.”

The lights went back on, and Beomgyu blinked repeatedly, making sure that it wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. But there you were, with tears brimming your eyes, in all your glory, the love of his life.

He takes in all the little changes, like your trimmed hair, and that fact that you seemed to have lost weight – which made him frown. And then there was that smile, that dazzling smile, which only seemed to shine brighter now than it did before.

Your hands tremor a bit, the way he just stares at you making your heart leap. “I-I’m sor-”

The cake hit the floor with a plop, eliciting laughter from the others as he wraps his arms around your figure and he reels you into his arms in one swift movement. You feel his tears soak into your blouse, and you hold onto him tighter, your eyes already wet from your own tears. You were finally with him – you were finally home.

The owner gathered everyone together for a photo towards the end of the celebration, Beomgyu following suit wherever you went, refusing to let go of your hand for even a second. You offered him a loving smile when Hyunjin teased him for it, and placed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

Beomgyu lead you up to the rooftop to see the sunrise, momentarily letting go of your hand to flush your back against his chest, before grabbing hold of it, and the other hand, again. The bright orange and yellow rays peeked from behind the mountain in the distance, and you had never felt more at peace.

You recalled the way your chest tightened and the way tears burned at the corners of your eyes upon receiving his confession a year ago. You had been so happy. So, so happy. But you knew you could not accept him. At the time, you knew that you were in no place to be with someone like him. He was, and is, too wonderful for someone as messed up as you are. You didn’t want burden him with your issues, not when his career had just taken off.

“Beomgyu?” he hummed from where his head against yours, “I love you.”

You stepped away from his embrace, giggling when you noticed the way he pouted. Your turned to face him properly, before attaching your arms around his waist. “Back then... I was in a really bad space. It’s not excuse, and I certainly shouldn’t have run away from you. I...have gotten help ever since, and I want to tell you my story. Would you like to hear it?”

He leaned back and thought for a moment. He then cupped the side of your face with his hand and ran his thumb across your cheek, before pulling you in to press a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Whatever you’re willing to share, I will listen to and accept with open arms. I love you for who you are; and that includes everything that has shaped, and will shape you into the amazing person I already know you are.”

“That includes the way you absolutely kick my ass at gaming.”

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