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cocobeanncteez · 4 years

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ATEEZ San: Fight For Us (one-shot)

Pairing: idol!san x fem!reader

Genre: angst, light fluff, idol au.

Warnings: profanities, mentions of anxiety, breaking down, lots of crying, alcohol.

San never realized how awkward the atmosphere was whenever you and the members were in the same place. You knew they didn't like you from the first day San introduced you to them, but you didn't know why. Still, you tried your best to interact with them as they were very important to your boyfriend. San was really happy when he saw you making an effort to talk to the guys, but he didn't know that it was really hard for you to talk to them. They usually gave you short replies which just end the conversation. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were okay with you after awhile, but they still didn't make much efforts to talk to you.

One day, you went to the dorms when San had a sore throat. While you were making soup for him, you could hear some of the members talking about you from the living room. They were trying to talk quietly, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

"Why is she in our kitchen?" Wooyoung asked.

"She's probably making something," Yunho answered.

"Well, why is she using our kitchen then?" Yeosang scoffed. "I seriously don't like her." You felt your heart break at that. You knew they didn't like you, but it felt terrible to hear them say that.

"I should've hooked San up with my idol friend," Wooyoung said. "She's literally his type."

"I hope San breaks up with her," Mingi mumbled and Jongho agreed. "Our manager found out recently and he's not happy about it at all. San hasn't even been focusing very well these days."

"Manager hyung has plans of asking San to break up with her. I guess we all should be happy now," Jongho said. You felt your heart drop. At this point, you were sure the guys hated you. You really wanted to fix the situation, but you didn't want to cause any more problems; you knew San would never be able to break up with you, so you'd have to do instead.

You stirred the soup you made for San, controlling your tears from falling. You poured the soup into a bowl before taking it to his room.

"Thank you, love," San said softly, sitting up on his bed. You quietly fed him the soup, lost in your thoughts. "Babe, are you okay? Your eyes are watering." San asked, concern shown on his face.

You blinked and the tears fell. "Y-yeah, I just . . . I hate to see you in pain," you said; that was true, but it wasn't why you were crying.

San chuckled a little. "It's only a sore throat, love." Your heart hurt to hear him call you that; you won't be hearing it anymore after sometime. Tears began to stream down your cheeks at the thought of it.

San took the empty bowl from your hands and placed it on his bedside table. He cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears away. "Baby, I'm alright," he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips. You kissed him back with more urgency, knowing that you'll never get to do it again. San gasped a little, surprised at the new feeling that somehow made him feel anxious. To him, it felt like you were going to say goodbye. Little did he know, he was actually right.

When you went home, you bawled your eyes out. You were very much in love with San, and you knew he loved you just as much. You texted him, saying that you would come over the next day. He felt relieved: his anxiety from the urgent kiss you both shared immediately going away.

The next evening after your university classes ended, you went to Ateez's dorm. Hongjoong opened the door for you, and you found all the boys in the living room, laughing while playing some board game. You saw Mingi and Jongho roll their eyes at you, unhappy to see you here.

"San," you called out nonchalantly, catching everyone's attention; they had never heard you say his name like that. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, of course, love," he said with his dimpled smile, taking your hand in his as he lead you to his room. He appeared to be calm, but he was filled with anxiety on the inside; your emotionless expression was scaring him. He kissed your forehead to see how you'd react. When you didn't respond in any way, he got even more scared.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he asked while you sat on his bed.

You took a deep breath.

"San, let's break up."

There was only silence. San felt daggers stabbing his heart over and over again as he repeated your words in his head.

"D-did I . . . " he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down a little. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," you said, looking down at your feet. "I just think things aren't working out between us anymore," you lied.

"That's bullshit!" his voice raised a little as tears began to roll down his cheeks. "Don't lie to me, Y/N! Just don't . . . We were always fine!" he yelled as he broke down. "These eleven months . . . we managed everything so well despite our busy schedules!" You kept quiet; if you opened your mouth, you knew you'd break down as well.

"D-do you not love me anymore?" he whispered. "Am I not e-enough?" You knew San's biggest fear was not being good enough, and you wanted nothing more than to take back everything you said.

"I'm sorry, San," you murmured, feeling your heart hurt from saying his name.

"Don't do this to me," he cried, kneeling down in front of you, taking your hands in his. "Please, don't. I love you, Y/N. Don't do this . . . " You didn't say a word. You only closed your eyes, trying not to cry. You hated yourself for breaking his heart.

It was silent for a while; San was lost in thought, and you wished you knew what he was thinking about. You waited for him to say something for god knows how long.

You got up from his bed, looking at him one last time. "Take care of yourself," you said with a small smile that didn't reach your eyes. You left his room, tears immediately rolling down your face as you prepared to leave. However, San stopped you right beside the living room by grabbing your arm and turning you around to face him. Seeing your tears hurt him, but relieved him at the same time; it was enough proof that you still loved him.

All the guys were watching, and they were quite shocked to see San crying and looking so heartbroken.

"It's them, isn't it?" San asked, gesturing to the members with his head.

"No, it's not th—"

"I know they don't like you, Y/N," he said, surprising you; you thought he never knew that. He turned to look at the guys. "Are you all happy now? This was what you wanted right? For me and Y/N to break up?"

"San, please stop," you begged, not wanting any fights to happen between them. "It's not even related to them."

"What do you mean, San?" Hongjoong asked. "We never wanted that."

"Maybe you and Seonghwa hyung didn't," San stated. "But the rest of you certainly do."

"Yeah, he's right," Yeosang said. "We don't trust her or like her."

"And she's a gold-digger," Mingi added.

"She's just using you for your money and other things, San," Wooyoung said and Jongho nodded in agreement. San laughed so hard, you all were actually quite scared.

"A gold-digger?" he laughed. "You know that large company across Mnet's building? That belongs to Y/N's father. She's a chaebol heiress." The guys were quite stunned, not expecting that. "If you made an effort to talk to her instead of wrongly judging her, you'd know. She doesn't need my fucking money."

"What else can she use me for?" San continued. "Sex? We did after five months of dating. I don't think she would've waited if that's what she really wanted. Fame? She and her family are already well-known. So please, tell me why you all think she's fucking using me?!" San yelled. You were just frozen in place. You've never seen San this angry before and honestly, it scared you. None of the boys, not even Hongjoong, dared to say anything. You felt really bad that you're the reason why he raised his voice at them.

San turned to you. "Tell me the real reason why. I'm right, aren't I?"

"I can't," you looked away. "I'm sorry, San." Before he could say anything, you quickly unlocked the door and left.

San just stood there, feeling his already broken heart shatter even more. He chuckled bitterly while tears rolled down his face.

"There, you guys got what you wanted for so long," he said while looking at the members. Several seconds later, he broke down again, his back sliding against the wall. Seonghwa immediately went to his side, pulling the younger boy into his arms; it hurt him to see San like that.

"I love h-her, hyung," San sobbed loudly. "Why did she sacrifice her happiness like this?"

"I know, San," Seonghwa said, letting San cry on him. Hongjoong sat beside them, rubbing San's back comfortingly. San cried harder, struggling to breathe. Hongjoong got him a glass of water, but he wasn't able to drink it. After nearly an hour of crying, he fell asleep against Seonghwa.

"Yunho," Seonghwa called out. "Can you carry him to his bed?" Yunho nodded, picking San up; he wanted to cry at how broken his roommate was.

"Y/N . . . don't leave . . . " San murmured in his sleep, making Yunho's heart ache. He quickly tucked San in before heading to the living room where the rest of the boys were.

"We should apologize," Seonghwa said. "What the fuck is even wrong with us? Since when have we been like this? Judging a person so hard when we don't even know her properly? Look at what we've done now."

"Hyung, you and Hongjoong hyung didn't even do anything," Jongho mumbled.

"No, we did," Hongjoong said. "We didn't trust Y/N initially either. But I was fine with her after seeing San so genuinely happy." That last sentence hit the boys so hard. Seeing San happy . . . They didn't know when they would see him happy again.

"I'm calling Y/N right now," Hongjoong said. "I'm putting it on speaker, so everyone keep quiet. If we're really the reason why they broke up, then we're going to fix it." Everyone agreed and Hongjoong called you. You didn't pick up the first two times, but you finally picked up on the third.

"Hello?"

"Y/N, it's Hongjoong. Can we please talk right now, just for a minute or two?" You hesitated for a few seconds before agreeing. "Please tell me why you broke up with San."

"Hongjoong, I'm sorry, but I can't tell—"

"It'll stay between us, Y/N," he lied. "It'll be easier for us to help San move on."

You took a deep breath. "I heard some of the guys talking about me when I came over. I knew you all didn't like me, but I didn't expect you guys to hate me. They also said something about your manager planning to tell San to break up with me 'cause he isn't focusing."

"Ah, so that's why," Hongjoong said, extremely disappointed in himself and the members.

"No, it's not really about that," you mumbled, your eyes watering. "I just . . . I would never make San choose between me and you guys. I didn't want to cause any problems for you all. San loves you all so much, and you're very important to him. It's important for you guys to have a healthy relationship with each other for your career, so I didn't want to ruin it in any way. I didn't want you guys to have any problems with San just because of me." Yunho started crying, feeling extremely disappointed in himself for misjudging you and making San go through so much. Seonghwa and Wooyoung were in tears too. "If your manager asked San to end things with me, I know he'd never do it. So I did it instead."

"Y/N, I apologize on behalf of everyone," Hongjoong said. "We made a huge mistake, and I'm really ashamed. But I want you to know that none of us hate you. I hope you can forgive us."

"Don't worry, I forgave everyone. I understand why they thought I'm using him, so it's fine," you said softly. "I have to go now. I wish you guys the very best, and take care of San, please."

"Y/N, listen," Hongjoong said quickly, but you already hung up. "Fuck."

"We fucked up," Yeosang said, staring at the ceiling. "We fucked up big time."

"You should tell San about it, hyung," Jongho said to Hongjoong.

"I already heard everything," San mumbled, leaning against the wall, startling some of the guys with his sudden presence.

"San, we're so sorry," Yunho said sadly, his tears now dried up on his cheeks.

"Yeah, we shouldn't have judged her," Mingi murmured.

"Your apologies aren't going to change anything," San said nonchalantly. "I just lost the love of my life because of you guys. The sad part is, you all were the only people I trusted other than her." The boys felt terrible, but they knew it was their fault. "You all are so selfish. We're supposed to be a team, right? But none of you even thought about my feelings." San changed his clothes, grabbed his phone and wallet, put on his shoes and left, not wanting to be with anyone right now.

"I don't feel comfortable with him leaving at this time when he's in that state," Seonghwa said.

"I guess he's going to some bar," Yeosang murmured.

And he was right.

"Three more shots, please," San said to the bartender.

"Sir, you're already quite drunk," the bartender said.

"I need it, please." The bartender only gave him two shots, genuinely worried for the younger boy.

Tears rolled down San's face as he took a shot and fidgeted with the other. "Rough day?" the other younger bartender asked; he seemed to be only a year or two older than San.

"My girlfriend broke up with me," San said. "My members didn't like her."

"Ah, you're an idol?"

"Yeah," San nodded, not caring about whether or not this bartender would expose him.

"She must've done it so that your relationship with your members won't get spoiled."

"That's exactly why," San chuckled brokenly, more tears rolling down from his eyes. "I love her so much. And I know she loves me as well."

"Then what are you doing here? Go get her!" the older bartender said. "It's not easy to find genuine love these days. Don't throw it all away just because of that."

"She wouldn't get back with me," San murmured, sobering up a little.

"Well, you said she loves you. If she really does, she wouldn't give up," the younger bartender said. "I know people say if really love someone, you'll let them go. I think the opposite. You don't give up on the person you love."

San pondered about the words he just heard. "You know what? You're absolutely right," San said, getting off the barstool. "I'm gonna go get her."

You were doing pretty bad after the break up. Although it hasn't even been twenty-four hours, you've been a mess.

"If you aren't gonna eat, will you at least drink this?" your best friend said, placing a bowl of soup in front of you.

"I don't feel—"

"Y/N, if you don't fill your stomach up with something, you're gonna feel worse." You sighed, taking the spoon to drink the soup. Your bestfriend waited till you drank everything before leaving for work.

Three minutes later, your doorbell rang. You rolled your eyes, quite sure your best friend forgot something as usual.

"What did you forget now?" you asked while opening the door. "I bet it's your—"

San stood at the door, wearing his usual grey sweatpants and a black hoodie. His mouth and nose were covered with a black mask, and his wet hair was nearly covering his eyes.

"Y/N, can we talk, please?" he asked a little shakily. He was visibly shivering and you wanted to yell at him for not dressing warmly when it was freezing outside.

You immediately let him in, running to your room to get a blanket. He sat on the couch, eyes never leaving you while you wrapped him up in a cotton fleece blanket. You quickly made him some warm tea; you breathed a sigh of relief when he stopped shivering.

"Y/N," he started, sipping on his tea. "I overheard your conversation with Hongjoong hyung." You opened your mouth to say something, but he placed a finger against your lips. "Let me finish, baby."

"I was on my way to your apartment last night, but I was drunk and passed out in the cab. The cab driver tried to wake me up for almost an hour until Seonghwa hyung called me and the driver brought me home," he said, finishing his tea and placing the empty teacup on the table. "The guys and I had a long talk today morning. They apologized for being immature and judging you, but anyway, they will call you later to apologize as well." San cupped your cheek. "Y/N, I know you broke up 'cause you didn't want any problems to occur between the boys and I, but baby, please consider my feelings as well. Your happiness is my happiness. So if you sacrifice that, how will I be happy?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb. "Y/N, I love you so much. You mean the whole damn universe to me. I fucking love you to the point where I literally cannot live without you. Please don't put me—put us through that again. I can't and won't ever stop fighting for us." You choked on a sob, bursting into tears. He pulled you into his arms, crying as well. You apologized for whatever happened while he placed soft kisses on your head.

"I love you, Sannie," you whispered, wiping his tears away.

"I love you too." He took your hand, intertwining it with his, placing a kiss on yours. "Promise me that you won't ever stop fighting for us."

"I promise."

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years

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Defiance

Word count: 2447

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader

Warning: NSFW 18+ you’ve been warned.

Prompts 9, 37 - “You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month. “ “Eat me out.”

A/N: For my love @waitingfortheendtocome, I hope you enjoy this because my mind went down a very dirty rabbit hole and uhhh enjoy love! lmao

Tags: @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95

I do not own this gif!

The arrangement was simple, whenever you had an overwhelming desire to be pleasured until you were seeing stars you'd text a time and a place and have your wicked way with one another. Once you were done you'd go back to your day like you haven't been fucked by a starved animal, hungry to feel your sweet taste on their lips. That's how this arrangement worked with Lou, no one else in the band of con artists knew of course, all except from Debbie Ocean. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know you just liked the private bubble you both have made, but you liked messing with her a little in front of them. Especially after she’s been neglecting your physical needs for the past two weeks while she worked on her new investment for the club, this was the first night where you’ve been in a room with her for more than an hour even if it’s with the rest of the gang. You watched as her jaw twitched and her hand tightened around her beer, her crystal blue eyes staring hard at you while you innocently flirted with Debbie from across the kitchen of Lou's apartment.

You would laugh at Debbie's silly jokes while subtly tracing your finger around her wrist watching as her brown eyes sparkled with mischief already knowing exactly what you were up to but she liked messing with her friend and she enjoyed your friendship and if she needed to help push you both gently to reveal your non-titled relationship to the group, it was a win-win situation in her eyes.

"You know, you really aren't that subtle Y/N." Debbie comments watching your finger trace along her skin, a smirk in place. You blink innocently at her stopping the pattern you were tracing.

"Whatever do you mean, Deborah?" You mock, matching her mischievous look. You glance briefly at your blonde lover across the room, who stands next to Rose and Tammy. You notice her trying hard to keep focused on the story the Irish woman was telling her but her commanding look that screams 'stop defying me' tells you that she is struggling to listen to a word she is saying.

"She is going to kill the pair of us if I carry on indulging in this game of cat and mouse of yours." Debbie jokes but makes no move to stop this flirtatious back and forth exchange.

"Oh come on Debs it's a laugh. Besides, she deserves it and you know we always have a good time when we drink tequila together, now pour us another shot." You whisper leaning closer to her ear making sure you are in clear view of Lou the entire exchange. 'Brat' is the only thing she mutters before reaching across the built-in bar and grabbing the tequila bottle before pouring us another shot.

You continue to laugh and joke with the older brunette feeling the heated gaze from the blond while you pour more of the burning liquid down your throat making it your final shot for the evening, knowing you’ll need to keep a level head if you were to be confronted with your dominant lover at the end of the night. The subtle brushes of hands, reaching over her making sure your chest makes contact with her own, giving her a full view of your cleavage in your black dress during the night was enough to drive anyone crazy but Lou was different, she liked having the upper hand and being in control and this, wasn’t her being in control and from the warning looks that have been burning into the side of your head, she wasn’t happy about it but she wasn’t about show anyone else that either.

When you all move towards the living room to settle down and unwind from the day’s events, Lou grabs hold of your elbow making you stop your venturing, her lips close to your ear.“I know what game you're playing... It isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Her Australian accent slipping through her scolding demeanor, making you smirk. Knowing that the only time her accent slips through is when she’s turned on. And by the way her crystal blues darken, you know her statement is loose and unconvincing. You grab hold of her dark red tie that hangs loosely around her neck and twirl it around your finger quickly, pouting at her before letting go and whispering taunting her ‘“Maybe if you hadn’t neglecting my needs for the past two weeks this wouldn’t be happening, sweetheart” before stepping away heading towards the loveseat where Daphne sits explaining to the others about her latest dating failures, all too enthralled in her story to notice the sexual tension between the pair of you.

Lou sits next to Tammy opposite you making sure that you can see her rigid posture as she eyes you hungrily watching as you cross your legs making your dress rise higher up your thigh, leaving smooth skin exposed and for her eyes to rest upon. You turn to face Daphne to show your full attention, ignoring the hungry looks from the woman across the way. You continue this game of cat and mouse until the clock reaches midnight and the others are ready to depart. During the flow of conversations you’ve continued to tease her to no end, slowly tracing your finger along your thigh and across your collarbone when the others weren’t looking always making sure to keep your eyes locked with Lou’s her head would shake subtly warning you to stop but you would just smirk and continue to torture her using every bit of exposed flesh as possible.

“Oh, dear! It’s rather late, maybe we should leave. Poor Lou here probably wants some peace and quiet,” Rose rushes, gathering up the empty bottles with Amita.

‘Doubtful’ you think smugly, watching Lou smirk a little at Rose’s choice of words before agreeing that it is rather late and she has ‘some business to take care of before heading to bed’ her eyes glancing over your figure like a predator.

Once you’ve all helped clean up the empty bottles and takeaway boxes you head for your coats and unlock the front door but before you could head out, a strong hand wraps around your wrist making you stop in your tracks. You watch as the others filter out and turn back towards you both realising that you are no longer walking with them.

“You coming Y/N? I can give you a ride home darling,” Tammy asks, frowning in confusion as she eyes Lou’s grasped hand around your wrist. Before you can reply you feel the ground beneath you fade away as you’re whisked onto Lou’s strong shoulder, her arm tight around the back of your thighs making you yelp at the new sudden position.

“Sorry Tam, the only coming Y/N will be doing tonight will be in my bed. Good night guys,” Lou responds smugly before turning back and heading through the threshold. You look up briefly and shrug in a ‘what can I do’ manner and wave cheekily leaving them gobsmacked with one knowing smirk from Debbie.

“When has that been a thing, the fuck?” You hear Constance ask before the door slams shut, blocking out their curiosity. Lou is silent as she takes you towards her lowly lit bedroom, dropping you roughly onto the bed making you yelp leaving her standing above you looking down at your flustered state as she slowly unties her red tie. You sit patiently at the edge of the bed waiting for her to speak, she gently places the tie next to you and places her hands on either side of your hip bending down slightly so she is eye to eye with you, her nose brushing briefly against your own as she speaks quietly but with such command, her lips barely touching yours.

“You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month.” She threatens. You gulp knowing that she means it but the glint in your eyes shows her that you love the thought of testing that threat, knowing you can’t help yourself but push her buttons that little harder. She kisses you hard, taking your bottom lip in between her teeth dragging it out with a pop making you moan but before you could grab a hold of her to taste those sweet lips once more she moves away from you removing her suit jacket, leaving you pouting at her lack of attention.

“If you hadn’t ignored most of my phone calls and texts over the past week or so, I wouldn’t have to try so hard for your attention” You sulk, arms crossed like a defiant child but you keep your eyes glued to her moving frame. Lou chuckles quietly while shaking her head but stays silent. You watch hungrily as she grabs her chair by her desk and brings it over towards the edge of the bed before lazily sitting upon it her legs spread out, eyeing you steadily waiting for you to say something, but you know when Lou has a plan and when to cheek back.

“Come here, baby.” She cooes, her head tilting to the side, her eyes dark with lust and hunger. You obey without question, pout still in place while standing in front of her waiting for the next instruction. Her eyes and head lower to the floor indicating for you to crotch down at her feet, your eyes light up and your pout turns into a knowing grin knowing exactly what she’s asking of you.

“So, you think it’s funny to flirt with my best friend in front of me, continue to tease me by showing up in a very short dress knowing that even seeing the tiniest bit of your smooth skin drives me wild, Mmm? What because I had a very important investment that needed my attention and couldn’t satisfy your every need. You weren’t complaining a few nights ago when I showed up at your apartment where I had you screaming my name. You got anything to say to that?” She asks demanding, her voice dripping with sex already making you fidget slightly on your knees in front of her resisting the urge to rub your now throbbing pussy against the your heels at that particular night.

“I’m sorry Lou, I should have been more understanding. I promise it won’t happen again, I’m sure I can make it up to you in other ways.” You try, jutting your bottom lip hoping your attempt at looking innocent will be enough to finally drive her crazy enough to fuck you stupid.She leans forward, her forearms leaning against her thighs as she tips your head up to face her head on.

“Eat me out.” She breathes, a cheshire grin in place as you moan at the command. Your breath hitches before instantly making quick work at removing her trousers and underwear, she lifts her hips enough to drag them down to her ankles before removing them completely, leaving her bare with just a black bra on making you lick your lips in anticipation. You move to trace your tongue around her heat but her hands hold your shoulders to stop you from going to the place you’ve been craving all night long. She tuts, clicking her tongue.

“No no, tonight we take it slow. You are going to pleasure me and IF you do a good job at making me cum, I’ll consider returning the favour.” She offers, moving her hand to your head and guiding it towards her inner thigh where you proceed to leave sloppy wet kisses along the pale skin, leaving dark patterns from your enthusiasm. She hums low as you reach higher up her thigh, brushing your nose across her wetness breathing in her arousal, watching as she squirms slightly as you lightly exhale along the sensitive area before using the tip of your tongue to trace delicate circles over her clit.

“Mmm that’s it baby, keep doing exactly that.” She commands softly, her hand resting against the back of your head pushing you further towards her heat. You continue with your circular motions with your tongue before taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into your mouth sucking hard, making her grip your hair tight while her other hand grips tightly to the arm rest.

“Oh fuck! Good girl,” she purrs above you, her praises spurring you on to please her more. Your moan vibrating against her wet folds making her thighs squeeze around your temples. You release her clit and flatten your tongue between her folds collecting her wet state before teasing her entrance with the tip of your tongue making her growl and pull harshly onto your hair that's twisted around her hand loosely. You look up at her, your mouth covered in her wetness,, her eyes dart to your teasing tongue as you clean around your mouth.

“Stop teasing me, Y/N.” She growls, you smile innocently up at her.

“You wanted slow, baby. What more do you want from me bossy pants?” You tease, watching her eyes flash at the nickname before she pulls you back towards her heat. You continue to attack her with your tongue making sure to hit that perfect spot that makes her shiver, you feel her walls tighten around your skillful tongue as she grinds hard into your mouth. You watch her clench her jaw as her eyes roll back in pure ecstasy. As she rides out her orgasm, you nuzzle into her thigh, placing sweet kisses along the now glistening skin waiting for Lou to catch her breath. She pulls you up towards her, getting you to straddle her legs before she stands from the chair guiding you towards the bed, she leans on her knees against the soft mattress before letting go of you and pushing you into the bed. Her hands grip the bottom of your dress before bunching the dress above your hips, leaving your black lace panties on show for her, making her lick her dry lips. She roughly grabs your panties and removes them in one swift move before pressing a light kiss to your already wet pussy.

“You are gonna beg for me to let you cum, I want you screaming my name to remind yourself who you belong to. Edging sounds like the most appealing punishment, don’t you think?” She declares, grinning from ear to ear. You respond back between moans.

“Do your worse, Miller. Make me scream.” And if the little twinkle in those blues were anything to go by, she would be doing exactly that.

#lou miller x reader #lou miller x female!reader #lou miller #cate blanchett x reader #cate blanchett #smut fic #the rabbit hole is a good place to be tho #oceans 8

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

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Nothing Revealed/Everything Denied - Chapter Eleven

A/N Long awaited.

Christian had lived in LA for nearly a year and only realized he had never been to Santa Monica Pier when Michelle commented in his livestream chat. Her comment took him by surprise; mostly because they hadn’t spoken outside of work in almost two weeks after their incredibly awkward interaction at the fittings and he couldn’t help his sudden pause as he processed her message.

“Uh…” Christian furrowed his eyebrows as he skimmed the chat as if it was a difficult question to answer, “No, I have never been Santa Monica Pier actually.”

He took a breath and forced himself onto the next message from his viewers, not wanting to be caught looking like an idiot when people were probably screen recording. He was mid-sentence when his phone buzzed on the desk beside him and he glanced down to see a text from Michelle.

Are you up to Santa Monica tonight?

“One…second…” he said softly to his stream before picking up and unlocking his phone.

To the viewers, he looked like he was in intense concentration, typing and re-typing furiously like he had received the most important news of the decade. But all he was trying to word out was a chill,

Sure. Sounds fun. I’ll pick you up at 6?

Great!

Christian couldn’t hold back his grin as he set his phone down again and turned back to his livestream, “Where were we?”

At 5:55, Christian was parked outside Michelle’s apartment. He was never one for being late – especially when it came to her – and he needed to get out of the house before Tyler came home anyway so he wasn’t harassed by his brother about spending too much time with his co-worker. Michelle came rushing out of her building in a white shirt and jeans with her brown hair pulled back in a bun. Christian couldn’t help but let his eyes just take her in as she approached the car and she shot him a smile as she climbed in, setting her bag on her lap.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Christian replied, trying not to sound too terribly awkward. It was as if in two weeks he forgot how to speak to her yet still had all these weird feelings that had only been growing in their time apart.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to the pier.” Michelle chuckled as she buckled her seatbelt and Christian pulled out of the parking lot.

“Yeah…me too.” Christian said through a soft breath, trying to stay focussed on the road as his two-handed grip on the steering wheel tightened. Michelle helped herself to his phone, his small smile giving her the go-ahead and she put on some music and turned up the volume.

Christian took their silent drive to the pier as a moment to collect his thoughts, trying not to overthink every little thing. It was easier, though, once they parked and they got out of the car to the view of the sunset and the bustling pier in the distance. Michelle pulled her phone from her pocket to snap a few pictures as they headed down the sidewalk towards the park.

“We should start with the roller coaster!” Michelle suggested, staring up at the rides in enticement as they waited in line for tickets.

Christian passed over his credit card to the lady at the booth and he paid for a full night of tickets.

“You didn’t have to buy mine.” Michelle tisked when he held out a stack to her.

“I wanted to.” Christian shrugged with a smile.

She thanked him, mirroring his grin, and they headed for the rides. The awkwardness easily melted away after their first round on the roller coaster; Christian screaming a bit louder than honestly necessary enough to have Michelle wheezing of laughter by the time they got off. He wouldn’t admit that he wasn’t actually scared, just desperate for something to break the slight tension.

“You always surprise me, Seavey.” Michelle laughed as they headed for the scrambler a bit of a ways away.

“Surprise you how?” Christian asked, smiling over at her.

“Just…whenever I think I know you, you surprise me.” Michelle shrugged, handing her ticket to the booth outside the ride and Christian did the same as they got in line.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I think so. Keeps you interesting.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to be bored of me.” Christian shouted after her as they rushed into the ride and found their seats.

“You don’t get motion sick, right?” Michelle asked as the operator made sure they were buckled in.

“No. You?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” she shrugged.

Christian’s eyes went wide.

“I’m kidding!” Michelle nudged him teasingly. “I’ve got the strongest stomach I know.”

“I can tell based on how you wrote an incredibly gory war film.” Christian scoffed.

Michelle only laughed and he glanced over at her sitting beside him in the small metal buggy, their arms and thighs brushing as the ride started and the dusk ocean air blew through her messy curls lightly, the lights from the park reflecting in her eyes enough to make looking away from her nearly impossible. That was until she was thrown against him by the force of the ride and he was pulled back into the moment, sharing in her laughter as she almost fell off the seat.

By the time their tickets were spent up – mostly at the games where Christian was determined to beat her at something – they headed to find something to eat.

“Here, you can have my bear.” Michelle offered, holding out the huge bear she won at their last game.

“I don’t want your pity gifts.” Christian huffed playfully.

“I won it for you. Now stop being such a whiner and accept him.” Michelle shoved the bear in his arms. “Look, he loves you.”

“Thanks.” Christian chuckled.

“Now, I’m buying dinner because you bought the tickets.”

“I’m not going to even try to argue that.”

“Good. Because you won’t win. You’re a smart man.”

Christian only smiled over at her as she ordered them each a slice of pizza and a drink. With dinner in hand, they found a spot to sit by the edge of the pier overlooking the ocean under the neon lights of the park.

“Wonder what would happen if I jumped right now.” Michelle looked over the edge.

“Uhm, please don’t.” Christian laughed. “You would probably die and then David will make so many changes to your manuscript.”

“Oh, that’s a cold threat.” Michelle gaped, turning back to her pizza.

They fell into silence for a moment as they ate.

“How are your final practices going?” Michelle asked, her voice much softer than it had been the rest of the night.

“Fine. Great. I’m looking forward to starting to shoot.” Christian said.

“Me too.” Michelle nodded. “Dean told me you’ve been showing great promise honestly. But I didn’t doubt it originally anyway since-“

“Dean?” Christian didn’t mean to cut her off but his mouth spoke before his brain could catch up.

Michelle glanced up at him almost shyly, “Yeah, he took me for dinner last week.”

“Oh. How was that?” Christian asked flatly.

“Really nice. He’s really sweet. He took me too this steakhouse downtown and we had a private room and everything.”

“Nice.” Christian said into his can of pop, letting his eyes wander out over the dark ocean.

“He and I went over my script with other that he’s worked on and he had so many compliments for me that I swear my face was bright red.” Michelle giggled lightly, pressing her hands to her cheeks like she was reliving it. “I really enjoyed his company.”

“Because he had money?”

“What?” Michelle frowned for a moment.

“Sorry.” Christian sighed, looking down at the bear that was sat on his lap. “We should go.”

He got up and threw out the paper plate and his can before starting down the pier for the parking lot, Michelle rushing after him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michelle grabbed his arm to slow him down and they fell to a stop near the railing.

Christian sighed deeply, licking his lips nervously as he stared out over the beach.

“I only went on the date with Dean because you made it obvious you didn’t like me back like that.”

Christian nearly broke his neck to look back at her at top speed, “Where’d you get that idea?”

“All the time.” Michelle said like it was obvious. “You kissed me at the party, drunk off your ass, and then never did it again. After that you avoided me like the plague. I figured you regretted it so…” Michelle shrugged. “I should be allowed to do to dinner with other people without you getting jealous and weird if you don’t like me like that.”

Christian sighed, pushing a hand through his hair before resting it on the railing, “That’s not it. I just…I don’t know how to balance this movie and…a relationship…with a co-worker.”

“So you don’t regret kissing me?”

“God, no!” Christian answered almost too quickly through his nervous laughter.

Michelle smacked his arm, “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“I was scared!”

“You are scared of too much, Seavey. Life isn’t a game of Outlast.”

“Shut up.” Christian chuckled lightly, shooting her a small dimpled smile.

“I’m serious. This is my big break too and it’s important to both of us. I’m not going to let you start simping and fuck up your shot at fame here.”

“Simping? Oh my Lord.” Christian bit back a grin.

“Yeah.” Michelle crossed her arms over her chest as he stared at her. “I only wanted you for a reason.”

They fell into silence a moment, sharing calm bashful smiles, before Christian slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. She tossed her arms around his shoulders to keep him close as they shared slow chasté kisses on the pier under the neon lights.

#christian seavey #🎞#why dont we #christian seavey fanfic #why dont we fanfic

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honeyhan-123 · 5 years

Text

Say Thank You IV

Series Summary: Nearly five years have passed since Steve Rogers saves your life without so much as a thank you. When he sees you again by chance, he makes sure that he’ll never let you go and maybe teach you some manners in the process.

Series Warning: This will be a dark!Steve fic with stalking, kidnapping and manipulating as well as non-con and dub-con situations. Please don’t read it if you don’t like that sort of thing.

Chapter Warning: Kidnapping and drugging.

Word Count: 1.9k

I. New York II. Madrid III. The Apartment

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

IV. The Trip

‘So Stevie, where’d you disappear off to last night? I thought you said you were headed back to the hideout but you didn’t get back ‘till what? Two in the morning?’ Bucky looked to Nat as though asking her for confirmation about Steve’s night time practices over breakfast the next morning.

‘Nah Buck, I reckon it was more like three when he finally came in.’ The red head locked eyes with Bucky over her coffee mug. ‘I mean, if I didn’t know better, I’d wanna say Steve was out at some booty call’s last night coming in at that time. I know I always like to get a fix after a mission.’

Steve could feel the blood start to rush to his face as he tried to remain passive in front of the two super spies. He wasn’t ready to tell them about her just yet, they would try to convince him to change his mind but it was too late. Preparations had already started. Instead he lied, despite knowing what a dangerous game it was to lie to highly trained spies, yet he thought he might be able to swing it. ‘God Nat, I can’t believe you would even say that. I was just out at a little bar down the street, getting a drink.’

Steve thanked the powers at be as Nat’s phone started ringing, signalling their conversation had come to an end.

‘Oh wow. Thanks for the invite Rogers.’ She rolled her eyes as her finger swiped across the screen and hit the speaker button, letting Sam’s voice fill the room. ‘Hey Bird Brain, how’s it going in Sokovia?’

‘Yeah we’re good here. Just calling to let you guys know that Chekhov is on the move, we think he’s headed up to a facility in the north, it seems to be pretty heavily guarded. Wouldn’t mind some assistance with this one, it looks kind of intense.’

‘Yeah sure, we’ll be there in the morning, we just finished up with Alejandro last night so we’re good to move out.’

‘Actually Nat, I think we should stay here for a little longer, or at least one of us. We want to make sure all of Alejandro’s men are gone.’ Steve’s eyes met Bucky’s as the latter spoke, and he knew he hadn’t even remotely fooled his best friend, Bucky clearly realised something was up with him but he also knew that Bucky wouldn’t push him, not if he wasn’t ready to share.

‘Yeah I think that’s a good idea Buck, we really don’t want any of these guys hanging around. How ‘bout you and Nat catch a flight up to Sokovia tomorrow and I’ll meet you there or back in New York after I make sure it’s all clear down here.’ Steve was quick to set his plan in motion, grateful that the others pretty much always agreed to whatever plan he came up with, this way he would be able to easily extract y/n using the quinjet instead of picking her up from the airport in New York and have to deal with bystanders maybe getting in the way.

‘Sounds good to me. Wanda and I probably don’t need all three of you anyway, I don’t think Chekhov will be too hard. I’ll probably just see you back in New York Cap. Stay safe guys and see you tomorrow.’ Sam signed off the call and Nat put her phone back in her pocket.

‘Well Barnes, looks like we got some packing to do.’

The week passed far too slowly for Steve’s liking, every minute felt like hours and the hours felt like days. Anticipation flooded through him every time he caught sight of you, he just couldn’t wait to have you back at his house in New York, back at his mercy.

The only upside of the week was he now had more time to watch you. In the mornings he would accompany you on your morning jogs, following slightly behind, appreciating the way your ass jiggled with every step and then sneak into your apartment while you were showering, learning everything he could about you from your living space. Then, he would head back to his hideout and have a shower of his own, his cock in his fist, dreaming about what would happen in mere days as he came, his seed spraying over the tiled walls of the shower, slowly sliding down before pooled at his feet as it disappeared down the drain, his breaths shallow and frequent as he came back after his orgasm.

Post shower he would spend his days at the cantina, following you with his eyes as you served the customers. It seemed you were working more than normal and he figured it was probably to make up for your trip away, to cover your expenses as he had overheard a conversation between you and the elderly woman who owned the cantina. It was cute, watching your fret over finances while he knew that soon you wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than minding your manners around him.

He tried to get your attention whenever he could, coming up with reasons to talk to you but due to the air conditioning and the promise of a refreshing drink the cantina was often packed, filled with tourists and locals alike, trying to refute the summer heat, meaning that you often had little time for him, once again filling Steve with memories of double dates with Bucky back in the forties. Of trying to get their attention which was always focussed on Bucky instead of scrawny little Steve. But soon enough, he promised himself, you would be all his. Real Soon.

The days passed slowly for you too, despite you being so busy with work and preparing everything for your trip but finally, at last, it was your last day working at the cantina - for the meantime at least.

‘I’m sorry Señor, but we’re closing soon, can I get you anything before we stop taking orders?’ You asked the strange American who had been coming to the cantina everyday recently. You frequently wondered why he was in Madrid if all he was going to do was sit in the cantina but he tipped well and was nice enough to look at if you had a moment in between customers.

‘Trust me Sweetheart, there’s a lot I want from you but for now I’ll just take another Americano thanks.’ A chill crept down your spine at his sinister smile, although he may be attractive there was something wrong about this man and you barely managed to smile back as you walked away, the hairs on your neck standing up.

You avoided the American as best you could for the next half hour before the cantina closed, but being the only one still working made it hard as you still had to serve him. Thankfully, the clock hit ten and you managed to kick him out quite easily except for his promise to ‘come back soon’. You made sure to lock the door behind him, looking out into the night as he walked down the street. There was definitely something wrong about that man, but at least you wouldn’t have to worry about it for the next two weeks.

You made your way to the back of the shop, most of the cleaning already done as you waited for the man to be finished with his coffee. Knocking on the door to Mariana’s office, you entered slowly, finding her simply reading some book.

‘Mariana? I just wanted to come say goodbye before my flight tomorrow, it’s pretty early and I don’t think I’ll see you before I leave.’

She smiled and walked around her desk, wrapping her arms around you. ‘Querida, I’m so glad that you’re going through with this. I think it will be very good for you, going back to New York. I only ask that you send me a postcard, something touristy.’

You laughed into her shoulder, not wanting to break away from the biggest maternal figure you knew. ‘Anything for you Mariana.’

‘Be careful querida.’

‘Always am Mariana, don’t you worry about me.’ With one last smile you left her office, heading upstairs to your apartment.

As you unlocked the door and made your way through the small loft, your mind was so busy running through a last minute checklist for everything you still had to do that you didn’t notice that the window you had locked that morning was now open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. You also didn’t notice the figure waiting for you in your bedroom, hiding in the shadows until his arms were wrapped around you in a vice like grip, one hand covering your mouth as the other held something against your neck. There was a soft prick, and slowly you felt your eyes getting heavier, closing on their own and the whole room faded to blackness.

You slept so peacefully on the quinjet as he flew you over the Atlantic that Steve almost never wanted you to wake up. He knew that it would be a while before you were this calm in his presence again but he could wait. He was a patient man after all. He landed the quinjet just outside of the city, somewhere hidden where it wouldn’t be found and gave you another shot of sedative before transferring you to Natasha’s car. If he had known that he would see you again in Madrid he wouldn’t have ridden his bike out to the landing pad.

It was a real pain being on the run from every government, it meant doing their job was becoming increasingly hard but the team - or what remained of it - never complained, they each stood by their choice to help Steve against Tony. Ironically enough the best place for them to hide at the moment was actually in New York, one of the biggest cities in the world and the last place Ross would think to look for them, plus if he ever did, Tony always covered for them, claiming a fake sighting in another country, because while he was still hurt but Steve and the other and wasn’t quite ready to forgive them, they were still his family and he would never turn them over like that.

When he finally made his way back through the city, back to his brownstone in Brooklyn, Steve was kind of shocked that he had actually managed it, he had actually gotten you, right where he wanted you. A smile came over his face as he carried you down to the basement, the modifications he had requested had been made perfectly while he was away. While the room had always been a guest bedroom, he had to make sure that you wouldn’t be able to escape and that he could always watch you, especially in the first few weeks. The new thick, metal door would be enough to keep even him trapped down here and if he didn’t know exactly where to look, the security cameras were almost undetectable. He lay you on the bed, tucking you in, under the soft light grey covers, and pressed a kiss to your forehead before walking away and locking the door behind him. As much as he wanted to stay and watch you all night, there was still a lot he had to do before you woke up.

Tags will be added in a reblog

V. The Basement

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

#say thank you #saythankyou #steve x reader #steve rogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark mcu #mcu imagine #mcuseries #mcu #dark verse #honeyhanwrites #capatin america #captain america x reader #captain america

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dvoz-alternate · 4 years

Text

Requested by @sweetie-yoongi7

Vernon x reader

Genre: angst → fluff

Warnings: frustration, language, accidents

Word count: ~2.3K

Summary: You grew up with with Seungkwan as a kid and supported him when he decided to become an idol. Eventually, after debuting he decided it was time to introduce you to his group members. Introductions went off fairly well, other than the fact that Seungkwan’s best friend gave you the cold shoulder and walked away.

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-----~ 1 year later-----

It was slow at work, only a few people lingering in the coffee shop. Deciding to people watch you leaned over the counter resting your chin in your palm. Your shift was almost over anyway so you were just killing time. Feeling the vibration of your phone you pulled it out checking who it was.

[Kwannie] (3:42 pm) : You’re still coming over for game night, right?

You sighed seeing the text and shoved it back in your pocket. Damn it Seungkwan… In all honesty you did forget about game night, and you really weren’t feeling up to dealing with “he who must not be named” this evening.

Walking into the backroom you pulled off your apron and hung it on the hook switching it for your coat and bag. “Have a good weekend!” you called as you clocked out.

Pulling out your phone you grimaced at the message before sending a reply.

[you] (4:03 pm) : It’s still at 6:30 right?

Pocketing your phone you started to make your way down the busy street to your apartment complex to relax for awhile.

[Kwannie] (4:06 pm) : YES!

[you] (4:07 pm) : I’ll be there

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Unlocking the door to your apartment you dropped your bag on the floor and slid off your shoes. Flopping on your couch you covered your eyes with an arm, “Tonight would be so much better if I didn’t have to see that asshole…”

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“Hansol we talked about this already. You need to ‘play nice’ with (Y/N). I get that they aren’t your favorite person in the world, but you can literally cut the tension in the room with a knife when the two of you are together,” Seungkawn eyed his friend. He really just wanted the two of his best friends to get along. “You guys have been at each others’ throats for over a year now!” Seungkwan threw his hands up in the air which earned him an eye roll from Hansol. “It’s not my fault that she thinks she is a princess,” Hansol muttered deciding to scroll through his phone. “For one night. Just one night, please be nice,” Seungkwan said pointing a finger at Hansol’s chest. “Yeah we’ll see.”

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Stopping outside the dorm you looked up before letting out a breath bracing yourself for whatever that asshole will throw at you today. Walking inside you waved at the front desk before moving to the elevator. Pressing the button you waited for the lift to arrive before sliding in, as it was closing a hand slid in and stopped it. Glancing up you choked turning away from the beautiful bastard who now occupied your space. Hansol slid into the elevator giving you a quick glare before standing as far away as he possibly could. Finally regaining your breath you leaned your head on the wall next to you and let out a sigh as you closed your eyes. God this is going to be a long night. You thought not bothering to say anything to the man next to you.

Hansol pulled out his phone to make it look like he was occupied while standing next to you. Taking a peek at you from the corner of his eye he noticed how visibly uncomfortable you looked in the small space with him. Frowning he let out a huff his mood dropping even more. “If you don’t like being around me then why are you even showing up at the dorm?” he fixed his eyes on you. Not bothering to look at him you answered, “You didn’t think I came to see you did you?” Hearing the chime of the elevator letting them know they arrived at the floor you opened your eyes. Hansol shoved his phone back into his pocket before shouldering passed you into the hall. Rubbing your sore arm you followed a few steps behind him.

Hansol unlocked the door and walked in not bothering to hold it open for you. Making his way into the living room he sat down next to Joshua. Pushing on the door you sighed realizing it locked. “Stupid Hansol…” you muttered knocking on the door. You heard fumbling and rapid footsteps approaching the door. The door swung open and Seungkwan and Soonyoung both fell to the ground in front of you. Laughing you pulled them up. “What is going on with you two?” you laughed as they hugged you. “I wanted to greet MY best friend first,” Seungkwan gave a playful glare to Soonyoung trying to pry his arms off you. “Yeah, but we all know I’m (Y/N)’s favorite!” Soonyoung stuck his tongue out at the younger male. “Well now that you’re here we can start game night!” Seungkwan cheered pulling you by the hand.

“Guys! (Y/N)’s here!” Seungkwan said doing a dramatic gesture to you. You laughed at his antics as you greeted the guys. Jeonghan got up from where he was sitting to give you a hug, and was followed by Joshua who clapped Hansol on the back as he got up. As Joshua gave you a hug he whispered in your ear, “I’m glad that you could join us.” He gave you a bright smile as he pulled away. Unbeknownst to you, Hansol’s frown deepened seeing the display.

Mingyu grabbed your attention from the kitchen, “(Y/N) do you want anything to drink?” “Um, it’s okay Gyu! I can grab something!” you answered as you started to make your way over. You stopped when you heard Hansol speak, “It’s a good thing the princess doesn’t expect everyone to do everything for her.” You shot him a small glare over your shoulder. “I don’t expect anyone to do anything for me,” you countered before walking away.

Sucking in a sharp breath you put on a fake smile as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before turning to Mingyu, “Ready?” Receiving a nod you both rejoined the others.

“Alright let’s start with something simple, and by simple I mean a stereotypical-basic party game. Truth or Dare,” Soonyoung said pulling you to sit next to him.

A few rounds had gone by when Chan asked Hansol ‘truth or dare’. “Dare.” “I dare you to tell one person in the room something you wouldn’t say out loud to them.” Hansol’s eyes travelled around the circle of people before landing on you. You weren’t looking at him, but at the floor pulling on the carpet fibers. Standing he moved to sit in front of you. Noticing someone now in front of you you turned to see who it was, only to have your breath catch. He was looking at you with such intensity that it made your heart flutter slightly. “(Y/N). I have always wanted to say this. I find you to be extremely beautiful. You make my heart race whenever we are in the same room together,” his smile said innocent while his eyes were sinister. Your jaw dropped trying to comprehend what you just heard, and your cheeks felt warm. Getting the reaction he wanted he couldn’t help but laugh mockingly at you. “Did you think I actually meant that?” he smirked at you. “Hansol that wasn’t cool,” Seokmin whispered from behind him.

Now the blood that rushed to your cheeks had a new meaning; it was no longer flattery, but anger and embarrassment. Shoving Hansol away from you, you stood up. “Of course it would be a joke. Everything is a joke to you Hansol! Am I just a joke to you?” you could feel the angry, embarrassed tears starting to fill your vision. “Well you know what, fuck you Hansol.” You gave everyone a quick apologetic look before running for the front door.

“You dumbass!” Seungcheol breathed watching wide-eyed at your retreating figure. Hansol knew he went too far with that one. Scrambling after you he saw that the door was left wide open. Just recalling the tears in your eyes started breaking his heart. God, I am a dumbass. Who the hell does that?! Hansol was kicking himself mentally as he followed you.

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Running out onto the sidewalk you looked around quickly the raining blurring your vision slightly. You just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. You knew that tears were streaming down your face, but you could care less about that. “Wait!” you heard Hansol’s voice yell from behind you. Panicking you ran into the street trying to get away from him. Stopping in the middle of the street you turned around on him. “Leave me the fuck alone Hansol! You’ve already made it perfectly clear how you feel about me!” you screamed as you held your shaking body.

Hansol slowly started making his way to your, “Wait, please let me explain!” He held his hands out and tried approaching you slowly. “Stay away from me!” you screamed.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion as Hansol reacted too slowly. A car had come barreling down the road, seemingly out of nowhere and hit you in the process before screeching to a halt. With wide eyes and his heart thundering in his ears he ran to your body. He heard screams and wasn’t sure if it was his or the twelve other boys that just witnessed what happened. “Please, please be all right!” Hansol cried pressing his ear against your chest.

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“Visitors for Miss (L/N)?” a nurse came out into the waiting room only to be startled when thirteen men jumped up. The nurse eyed the large group, “You’re all here for (Y/N)?” Seungkwan pushed his way to the front, “Yes, we are here for her.” The nurse gave a small nod before leading them through the hospital corridor.

“She just woke up from surgery so please be careful,” the nurse said before leaving them alone in the small room.

Seungkwan pulled Hansol’s arm to stop him from going in. “Why the hell didn’t you just say you like her?” he whisper yelled. “I- I didn’t know how to tell her that I liked her. I didn’t think-” Hansol was caught off. “Of course you didn’t think! If you thought then she wouldn’t be in this mess!” Seungkwan’s voice started to raise ever so slightly. “I know and I’m sorry!” Hansol could feel the tears brimming his waterline. “Don’t tell me sorry. You should be telling (Y/N) that,” Seungkwan said shaking his head pushing Hansol towards the door.

“Hey guys I heard the cafeteria is selling pudding,” Seungkwan lamely said. Taking the hint the other eleven stood up from where they were sitting to follow Seungkwan.

“You’re a dumbass.” “I’m a dumbass.” “I’m glad we are on the same page Sol. Now why do you look like you’ve been crying?” you asked shifting your hospital gown. Pulling up a chair to sit next to your hospital bed, Hansol sat down before carefully picking up your hand. Confused by the display you raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry for everything.” Hansol squeezed your hand gently not meeting your eyes. “I was so afraid that I lost you,” Hansol lifted his eyes to meet yours. “You’re not playing with me are you?” you tried pulling your hand away only for Hansol to tighten his grip on yours. “No! No. I’m serious. I was terrified that I was going to lose you.”

You took what he said in for a few minutes before asking, “Game night. Does that mean you actually meant those words?” You could feel your own eyes starting to water slightly. You remember feeling your heart flutter when you heard those words only to feel like a weight had been dropped on your chest right after. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to express the feelings I hold for you. I was jealous that you got along with the others so much better, and that I couldn’t bring that smile to your face like the others,” Hansol could feel his chest getting tight. You’re once aching chest was now flickering like a small flame. “Why didn’t you just try to tell me? We could’ve avoided all of this you know,” you gestured to you then the hospital bed, and then to you and Hansol. “I know…” Hansol hung his head. Hansol looked up again when he felt you shift on your bed. You gave him a small smile as you removed your hand from his grasp and patted the spot next to you. He awkwardly took the spot next to you flashing a shy grin.

“So this entire time you didn’t hate me?” you asked leaning your head against his shoulder starting to feel tired. “No, I never hated you. I am an idiot who realizes he is in love with you,” he murmured relaxing against the pillow. Closing your eyes you leaned further into him enjoying the warmth Hansol gave off. “Y’know, I think I love you too Sol,” you breathed out letting sleep start to take over. Sliding his arm around your shoulders, Hansol pulled you in close to his chest before following your lead.

Twelve heads peeked into the room only mildly surprised to see you two fast asleep on the hospital bed. “Shh, lets let them be,” Seungcheol ushered them out of the room, but not before Seungkwan snuck a picture of you two. “He will thank me later… maybe,” Seungkwan whispered shutting the door.

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#dvoz-alternate #vernon x reader #request #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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elevatorsnot-worthy · 5 years

Text

Just A Little Chaotic (Chapter 7)

CHAPTER 7 - STING OF REALITY

Description: Alison, a singer-songwriter and an actress, finds herself in a middle of a chaotic set up with two of her cast mates. One’s a new face and one’s an old friend.

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC x Sebastian Stan

Just A Little Chaotic (All Chapters)

Author’s Note: Sorry it took a little while for me to finish this chapter. I am really sick rn but I promise as soon as I get better I’ll put out more content.

Sebastian’s POV

My heart was pounding as I sat alone in my trailer. Today I was not wearing my black Winter Soldier outfit. I was wearing clothes that would make the Winter Soldier blend in since he was supposed to be in a museum. I meditated as I try to ease off the nervousness. My eyes are shut, and I only concentrated on my breathing. Alison’s eyes immediately popped in my head. He soft brown eyes, her long lashes, and that little beauty mark on the left inner corner of her eye. She makes me calm yet she is the reason why I’m a nervous wreck right now. A knock on the door broke me out of my trance. I went straight to set; my feet just lead me to one direction. Out of all the people, from the crew, the background actors, only one stood out. It was her.

“Sebastian, are you ready?” Joe Russo approached me, and I just nodded in response. Joe started to give me instructions by my attentions was fixated to Ali. She was talking with Anthony Russo, her eyes are wide as she listened to the instructions given to her. “It’s just going to be you and Ali,” Joe’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Are you okay?” he asked me.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I said. Joe and Anthony went back to their chairs. I watch as Alison walked towards me. She flashed a bright smile which was a contrast from her dark outfit, a dark gray jacket, black sweatpants and sneakers.

“Hi Seb, how are you?” She wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest. I was distancing myself from her ever since I heard from her brother that things were getting serious between her and Chris. I placed my hand on her head as I hugged her back. I miss you. “You were kinda AWOL, are you okay?”

“I’m good,” I answered softly. We unlocked from our embrace and Alison held my hands. “I’m sorry, I was busy. How are you?”

“I’m great, the tour was crazy and now I’m working on an album. Everything’s really crazy, I just want to have a lazy day – let’s have a lazy day, like the old days.” She said and smiled at me. My heart melted as I looked at her. “Y’know, beer, pizza, and Star Wars, or maybe the Godfather, or maybe some horrible ass movies.”

“We’ll do that soon, I promise.” I said. I squeezed her hand before letting go of her hand. I would love to have her hand in mine every day, but I can’t. The world seems to be against us being together the way I want to. Whenever I mustered up the guts to tell her how I feel, she’s unavailable.

It was easy for me to shoot the scene. I was supposed to act as if I was relieved to see her again but there was an underlying pain in our reunion. It was exactly how I was feeling. We only did a few takes and we didn’t mess up that much. Alison would just start to laugh uncontrollably at some takes. After we shot the scene, we were able to have a short break. Ali and I decided to go to her trailer to catch up. Brett and Joelle left to give us some privacy.

“What happened to you last time? I texted you when I came back to the hotel, you didn’t reply.” She asked. “I was worried,” Ali’s voice was sincere, and she pouted at me. Don’t do that, you know that’s my weakness.

“I forgot,” I wasn’t able to make up an excuse, I can’t just tell her that I have feelings for her. She didn’t ask me more about what happened which relieved me since I didn’t have to make up some stupid excuse.

“Well you owe me a drink, okay? And a lazy day.” She pointed a finger at me and smiled.

“And a lazy day?” I asked her.

“And a lazy day.” She answered.

“So, how’s you and Chris?” I asked and regretted it. I know that her answer will just hurt me. Alison’s mouth formed a huge grin and she rested her head on my shoulder. She immediately became giddy and her cheeks turned red.

“It’s good,” she said before she succumbed to a fit of giggles. Last time I saw her like this is when she told me about her engagement. “He’s a really great guy, my mom met him last week.” As Alison continued on talking about how Chris met her mom when they ran into her while they are having dinner at some restaurant in LA. Her facial expression changed when she said, “It just sucks that Brandon’s forcing me to keep it a secret.” I looked at Alison as she looks down at her hands.

“But you’re happy with him, right?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I’m happy with him,” she nodded her head. “I guess I’ll just bring him to the next event I’ll go to.”

“Well, just always remember that I’ll be ready to beat him up if he messes up,” I placed my arms around her shoulder and pulled her closer to me. Alison rested her head on me and smiled. “As long as your happy, I’m happy for you.”

“I miss you, Seb.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around me. “I miss back then when we’re in New York.”

“If ever you wanted to come over, you can always crash at my place and we can have that lazy day.” I smiled at her. Alison looked up at me with her beautiful brown eyes and it just made me melt. “I miss you too.” I said and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry if I was distant for a little while, I just had a lot of things in my mind.”

“It’s okay, Seb.” She said softly and hugged me tighter. I kissed her head as I let the moment sink in. Even though she has somebody else in her heart, she still has a special place in my life. We became really close since we both really understand each other. All of a sudden, the door of her trailer opened and revealed Chris.

Shit.

“Alison?” Chris calmly said. Alison quickly stood up and walked towards Chris. She reached up to him and game him a kiss on his lips as a greeting. I felt a deep sting in my chest. The kiss made it more real to me. I guess I really have to accept that Alison’s heart has someone else.

Chris’ POV

Seeing Alison in Sebastian’s arms made me a little bit of uncomfortable. I understand that they are close but seeing this for the first time threw me off a little bit. Alison kissed me, and I wrapped my hands around her waist. “I see you’re getting comfortable with Seb,” I muttered.

“Well we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” She explained.

“That’s a nice way of catching up.” I involuntarily bitterly whispered. “We’ll talk about this later.” We walked to the couch and sat with Sebastian. I looked at Alison as she sits between Sebastian and I. A wave of jealousy filled me, I just wanted to take Alison right now and make her remember who she belongs to.

“Hey man,” Sebastian said as he shifted on his seat. He reached over for a handshake, a low-five and a fist bump, I played along so there won’t be any issue.

“Are you guys hungry? ‘Cause I’m getting a little hungry.” Alison randomly asked us. I placed my hand on Alison’s lap and I saw Sebastian look at my hand.

“I’ll get some snacks, I have some of those Japanese snacks you like in my trailer.” Sebastian offered. Alison’s demeanor quickly lit up. He quickly stood up and walked to the door. Before going out, Sebastian turned and glanced back to Alison. “Do you want anything else?”

“A Special Strawberry smoothie?” Alison smirked. Is this some inside joke or something?

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Sebastian answered back sarcastically before leaving.

“Thanks, Seb!” Alison called out to Sebastian before he shuts the door. As soon as the door shuts, I pulled Alison to my lap and started kissing her neck. “Chris,” she cooed as I placed deep kisses in her neck. You’re mine.

“I see you’re really close with Sebastian, huh?” I whispered in her ear as I touched every curve of her body. “You’re so happy to see him that you forget who you really belong to.” I growled then left a soft bite on her earlobe.

“You got nothing to worry about, babe.” She said as she gently holds my face and kisses my lips. A soft giggle escapes Alison’s mouth. “Are you jealous?” she asked me. Am I jealous? No, but I just don’t like seeing her that close with Sebastian. I don’t know. Maybe. I was lost in a big riot of thought as I try to formulate my answer. I can feel Alison sensing my confusion. She gave me a tight hug and said, “It’s just Sebastian, babe. You have nothing to worry about. We were just really close. We go way back and he’s special to me.” Her explanation kind of eased me but it reminded me that Sebastian and Alison spent a lot of time together. They lived together. I can’t help but to overthink of what could have happened before. “What matters is that I love you, okay?” her voice was a song to me that calmed me. Those three words distracted me from my thoughts. She loves you, man. Get it together.

“I love you too, babe.” I said. Even though I took off the jealous thoughts in my head, I still want to remind her that she is only mine. “But this doesn’t mean you won’t get punished later.”

Tag list: @everything-is-awesomesauce @supernatural-girl97 @patzammit

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spn-ficfanatic · 5 years

Text

Halo- Chapter 2

SPN-FICFANATIC MASTERLIST

“HALO” MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER THREE

Fic Summary: You’ve lived next door to Jensen and Jared for a year and have had a somewhat strained relationship. After a recent and massive change in your life your paths cross again and they discover the cause of that, and bridges start to mend in unexpected ways.

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Jared x Platonic!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2989

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Quick but Sweet Smut

Warnings: Very short NSFW (no GIFS), my first attempt at smut (which is a warning in itself), swearing again

Trigger Warning: Descriptions of domestic violence.

A/N: I wasn’t planning to post this so soon but I’ve been blown away by its popularity, and everyone has been so kind, so I wanted to post this quickly as a thank you xx

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A few hours later you had successfully proved to Jensen that he was indeed a suck shot, and that there was only one Queen of Halo in the World. He couldn’t help but steal glances at you from time to time, your smile as you gamed was intoxicating and he didn’t feel like he could ever get enough. This Y/N was a stark contrast to the one from only a few hours prior, it was like you were a new person the second you stepped into his apartment.

“Dude, you’re looking at me again,” you said bluntly as you stared at the screen with your controller right at your chest, concentrating on the shot. You felt Jensen shift next to you nervously and you giggled.

“Sorry, it’s just nice. To see you smiling,” he replied blushing.

“I hope to do THAT more often,” you replied, hitting pause and turning to grin at him. Your eyes caught movement behind the curtain and Jensen saw a flash of fear across your face before you realised it was Jared returning home. You relaxed as he opened the door, and he looked at you in surprise.

“Y/N! Hey, it’s good to see you! I see you took Jay up on his offer to hang out?” he said with a smile.

“Yer but you didn’t tell me how bad he is at this game. A little warning next time Jared,” you scoffed.

“OK OK, enough with the beat down. I’m a good shot and you can’t convince me otherwise,” he told you, taking a sip of his beer.

“Um Y/N? A taxi pulled up to your driveway as I came in. Are you expecting someone?” Jared asked, putting his bag down. You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Oh shit, I forgot I had a doctor’s appointment!” you gasped, standing up quickly holding your side to avoiding jostling your stomach around. Jensen made to help you stand but you brushed him off. “I gotta run, thanks for the game Jay!”

“Do you need me to go with you?” he asked concerned. Jared flashed him a confused glance while you smiled back.

“It’s ok, thank you though. Gotta get used to this independence thing. Catch you later though?”

“Absolutely, come over whenever you get back.”

You waved at them both as you walked out the door and closed it behind you, and once Jared was sure you were in the taxi he spoke up.

“Dude, I’ve been gone for 5 hours and suddenly you’re offering to take her to doctors’ appointments?” Jared asked incredulously. Jensen sighed and threw him a beer from the fridge.

“Sit down, I’ll catch you up.”

2 hours later you stepped gingerly out of the taxi, holding your side as you walked to your apartment. After having your wound poked and prodded you were feeling a bit sore and sorry for yourself, and looking forward to lying on your couch with something binge-worthy. As you unlocked your door you heard your neighbours’ door open, and were surprised to turn and see Jared standing there and not Jensen as you expected.

“Hey Jared, how’s it going?” you asked tiredly, holding onto the door handle for support.

“Yer fine, I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Jay filled me in while you were gone,” he replied, looking downcast. You nodded with a frown.

“I’m ok. Well, I’m not like fabulous or anything but I’m doing fine, and I know you guys are right next door which feels nice. The paper-thin walls I hated so much over the last year are suddenly making me feel so much safer,” you laughed half-heartedly. “Anyway, I’m gonna head inside and watch something trashy, see ya.”

“Well actually, speaking of trashy, that was the other reason I came over,” he said, handing a box set over to you. You raised an eyebrow as you saw the front cover, and grinned when his face stared back at you.

“Season One of Supernatural? This is brilliant,” you laughed. “And not at all trashy.”

“Have you seen it? I just thought, with Michael being like he was…”

“No no, I haven’t. I mean, I knew you guys did the show because I’ve seen the ads… I always thought it looked pretty awesome. And you’re right, I’d never get to watch this in a million years before.”

“Well, maybe you can now,” he said with a smile. You looked up into his eyes and were suddenly overcome with a strange urge. Pushing yourself forward, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist and rest your head against his chest, experiencing your first genuine hug in about a year. He happily returned it, being careful not to hurt you by squeezing too hard.

“Thanks Jare, really,” you told him, feeling a little emotional over the contact.

“Anytime. Consider it part of my penance for being a crappy neighbour,” he replied, to receive a slap on the arm.

“Don’t be daft. You have nothing to feel bad about, either of you,” you told him firmly, and he put his palms up in surrender.

“OK OK, don’t take my arm off,” he replied jokingly. You started to go inside when a thought occurred to you.

“Hey, if you want to watch yourselves killing bad guys come on over, my couch is big enough for three,” you told him with a wink. He laughed and waved you off, letting you go instead and get comfortable with your new favourite TV show.

For the next couple of days the guys would listen to their voices floating through the walls. You really knew how to binge they thought impressed, and pretty soon you were halfway through the season. They opted not to watch it with you, giving you a bit of space and allowing you to watch without the running commentary from them that they knew they’d have trouble biting back. A couple of times you came by for a beer and to ask questions. Another time they were interrupted by pounding on the wall followed with “You’re not gonna die, right Jay? Sam’s gonna fix ya… RIGHT?” to which all they could respond with was laughter.

Your scream of “WHAT!!!” signalled the end of the season, and they prepared a beer for your entrance. Two seconds later you bolted through the door looking dishevelled.

“How could they leave it there? You get hit by a damn truck? You survive right? Well, I guess you must, you’re still going to work but what about John? Gah! I hate this show,” you complained, catching the drink as it was thrown to you and taking a swig.

“And of course, by hate you mean you want to marry it and have little Supernatural babies right?” Jensen asked with a smirk. You glowered at him before swearing.

“You know me too well Ackles.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months passed and you seemed to be doing well. You and the guys had developed a real lasting friendship, though you definitely had a greater connection with Jensen. To say you had a little crush was an understatement but being certain he’d never feel the same about you you pushed those feelings down to the deepest depths of your soul. The day your mother turned up at your doorstep however threatened to change everything.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” you asked meekly. She was always a powerful woman, which you surmised was probably why you’d fallen in with Michael in the first place.

“I’m here to bring you home Y/N,” she announced, barging in and standing in the middle of your living room. You closed the door, silently praying no-one was home next door to hear this exchange.

“Enough is enough, you’ve been living on your own now for months without a job, without a husband, without support of any kind and I’ve had enough. I can only take so many phone calls listening to your pathetic lies about those horrid actors before coming down here and straightening you out myself. I mean honestly Y/N, you’ve burrowed yourself into a little hole here and made up this ridiculous fantasy life filled with Hollywood heartthrobs and I’m tired of it. This is Vancouver for goodness sake, not California. Now Michael wasn’t perfect but at least he was real and he provided for you. You’re coming home and I’m getting you some help. NOW!”

You cowered at her tone, unable to help yourself. With the help of the guys you had come completely out of your shell but her behaviour was giving you flashbacks to your previous life. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and before you could nod your head in acceptance you heard your door knock. There was literally only one of two people this could be, and with a resigned sigh you opened the door a couple of inches.

“Get rid of them Y/N, we have work to do,” your Mother stated firmly from behind you as she started to inspect the living room.

You looked up to see Jensen’s angry face looking back at you. “Now’s not a good time Jay,” you told him, moving to shut the door. He put his foot in the way however and reached out to take your hand.

“Play along alright?” he whispered, low enough for only you to hear, before pushing the door open wide and entering. “Sweetheart, you didn’t mention your mother was coming to visit!” He exclaimed loudly, grabbing the attention of your mother who was currently throwing your Dean and Sam bobbleheads in the bin. She stared at him with her mouth open wide, before holding out her hand to offer a handshake.

“Hello, and you are?” she replied, taking in his height and appearance. “You just called my daughter ‘sweetheart’, however she’s yet to mention to me that she has a partner.”

She retreated her hand at this point, noting with disdain his refusal to shake it.

“Are you sure about that? Because I’m almost certain I overheard you say just now that you HAD heard of those ‘horrid actors’.”

The colour drained from your mother’s face at this point as realisation hit that you’d been telling her the truth this entire time, though she kept her composure. Standing as tall as she could she clutched her bag to her side, simply for something to hold onto.

“So, you ARE real. I would have expected any actor with the brains to rise to star in his own television show to be smart enough to know when he’s too good for my daughter. So, you’ll have to excuse my disbelief at Y/N’s wild stories.”

You looked to the ground, tears falling quietly at her words. They cut deep because you knew they were true, and you felt Jensen’s grip tighten around your hand.

“Now you listen here. Y/N is an intelligent, funny and incredibly generous human being. Meeting you I have to wonder where on God’s green Earth she picked that up because she certainly didn’t learn them from you. But, however it happened, I am eternally grateful to call her my fiancée. I am supporting her in every way possible and will be sure to cross you off the guest list, because we’ll only be inviting friends and family to our wedding. Hollywood weddings and all; I’m sure you understand.”

You had barely heard anything after the word fiancée, but based on your mother’s expression it can’t have been good. You held Jensen’s hand tighter as you watched her face go from a bright red to a light purple, and without a word she stomped out of your apartment and slammed the door behind her. You were shaking and you felt Jensen’s arms wrap around you tightly.

“It’s ok, you’re safe I promise,” he told you gently, stroking your hair. You burrowed your face into his chest and let the tears come, not even caring that you were sobbing by this point. He carefully pulled you toward the couch and sat you down next to him as you wept.

10 minutes later you felt you had cried all the tears you could. To his credit he hadn’t moved an inch the entire time, stroking your hair and muttering the odd word of affection here and there.

“How’re you doing?” he asked concerned as you pulled away. You wiped your wet cheeks with the palm of your hand and huffed out a laugh.

“Dude, you essentially told my mother to fuck off. I’m better than I’ve been in ages.”

“Are you sure?” he asked with a frown. “I’m so sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have but hearing her speak to you like that just made me so angry and I couldn’t-“

“Shush,” you told him sternly. “That woman... she may have given birth to me but she was never a mother. I could never stand up to her but you did it for me and I’m beyond grateful. I can’t even begin to think what might have happened to me if I’d gone with her. Jay... I’m pretty sure you just saved my life.”

You looked up into his eyes so he could see the sincerity in them, and he too stared back at you before his gaze fell to your lips. You noticed his breathing quicken as he leaned forward, and before you realised what was happening his lips were on yours. You sharply inhaled through your nose in surprise, and quickly returned the kiss with a low moan at the back of your throat. He lifted you from your place on the couch so you were sitting in his lap, while you ran your hands through his hair as your pace quickened, your tongues sliding in and out of each other’s mouths without hesitation. You could feel the bulge in his jeans growing, which in turn caused your own tingles in places you didn’t know could do that anymore. With one swift motion you unbuttoned your top to expose your bare chest, and Jensen pulled back unexpectedly.

“Y/N,” he panted, wetting his lips as he took you in. A look of concern flashed across his face and he opened his mouth to speak but you quickly placed your palm against his mouth and looked into his eyes with a smile.

“Yes, I want this. Yes, I’m on the pill. No, I don’t care about what I’ve been through anymore. All I want is to feel you pressed up against my naked body... preferably in the bedroom as the couch is quite sma-“

You let out a happy squeal as Jensen immediately stood and held you straddled on his hips, supporting you by holding his hands under your ass. You started sucking his neck as he carried you, and he let out a low groan of approval before you felt yourself being gently thrown onto the bed. He ripped off his top, and you giggled as you heard a few buttons tinkle as they hit your bedroom wall and floor. He shrugged with a grin before throwing himself on top of you, straddling each leg on either side of yours as he grinded himself against you. Your lips found each other and you proceeded to unbutton his pants and slide them down his legs with your feet. The skirt you were wearing had now ridden up so far it was on your belly, giving Jensen easy access to reach down and touch your now wet clit. It took you by surprise and the moan that escaped your lips was almost animalistic, as your back arched off the mattress unconsciously.

“Please,” you begged quietly. “Jay, I need you inside me. It’s been so long...”

You felt your underwear being pushed aside, and his tip pressed against you before you sensed his hesitation. You looked to find him watching for your reaction, and when you leaned up to kiss him harder before pulling him back down onto the mattress with you, he slid himself in. You let out a little gasp, and he whipped his head up to look at you concerned.

“Y/N? Are you ok?”

You nodded with a smile as a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. Jensen didn’t look at all convinced, and pulled himself up on his arms to see you properly.

“I swear Jay, I promise I’m fine. It’s just... this is the first time in a long time that it hasn’t hurt. This is incredible,” you whispered, running your hand through his hair and smiling as a grin spread across his face.

“I’m going to make you feel so good babe, I swear it,” he replied, leaning back down to kiss your neck as he started to pull himself back and forth inside you. Your bodies rocked together on the bed as you quickly neared climax, the unspoken understanding between you that while the feeling was sensational, this wasn’t the right time to draw it out. You could feel the pressure building inside you and your cries became louder and closer together. He thrust harder and faster, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“Cum for me baby, I’m right there, fuck,” he swore, and as you felt yourself tip over the edge his body shuddered as he came inside you. You swore loudly as he continued to thrust and pulled yourself closer against his body as you rode out the waves which felt never-ending. When they finally did Jensen pulled out and laid himself across your body with a content sigh. You lay underneath him, not giving an ounce of care to the sheets on the bed as you chose to just snuggle in his embrace rather than jump straight into the shower like you used to. It was a foreign concept to you and you quickly fell asleep with a smile on your face, comforted by the knowledge that your old life was now officially 100% behind you.

Chapter Three (final) coming soon

SPN-FICFANATIC MASTERLIST

"HALO” MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER THREE

Tag Lists (Open) Halo Series taglist: @ocean-waves-that-misbehave, @flamencodiva @krys198478, @lostnnot2befound, @deansyahtzee, @gloriousartisanfancreator, @anathewierdo , @darkswanordie , @ravenesque, @mirandaaustin93 , @thekatherinewinchester (won’t tag *SOB*), @letmebeyoursforever “Dean/Jensen” taglist: @lilydarcy (won’t tag *SOB*) “Everything” taglist: @angelsandwinchesters, @grace-for-sale, @growningupgeek, @iamnotsaneatall, @nanie5, @waywardasfudge, @ronja-uebrick, @im-dead-inside05, @julzdec, @adoptdontshoppets, @meghanbeinghappy, @sleepylunarwolf , @sammysgirl1997

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szentkiralyszabadja · 5 years

Text

A moment somewhere in time between the fifties and sixties. 1762 words.

The problem with having your teeth pulled by someone other than a dentist is that when an actual dentist sees the hack job left behind, he has to do twice the work to fix the original problem and the newly created ones, and he bitches about it the whole time you’re sitting there, gaping maw full of another man’s hands and a couple of sharp tools, like it’s somehow your fault that you waited for months before seeing him and can’t grow a whole new set of molars or magic a few tens of thousands of forint for some new ones or something. That’s the way it goes as István walks away from the office with a bill big enough for two people and tasting blood all the while he sucks down two, three cigarettes worth of a walk home to his cement block apartment. The dentist had mumbled around a smoldering cigarette of his own that straws and smoking would mess with the stitching, puffing out his scolding in a cloud of smoke while István blinked hard underneath the singular spiral light fixture overhead. Yeah, he’d show him, the old bastard, István seethes to himself as if he isn’t an ancient bastard himself.

A soccer ball bounces across the stairwell followed by a troupe of four kids clambering down the several flights, ducking to avoid István’s lumbering form, as broad as he is long, dried blood on the corner of his mouth making him look all the more worse for wear against the wash of the concrete. A young lady down the hallway looks at him once, ducks her chin into her scarf, and jiggles her key a little harder. He doesn’t remember what the dentist said about alcohol consumption. If he was worth his salt, then he wouldn’t have said a word.

Shoes go somewhere in the corner by the door, heavy and fraying coat hung on the brass hooks to the right. The radiator’s steaming, which at least means it’s working in some capacity. Too tired to make the short trip back to his coat for the lighter he lights another cigarette over the gas burner, singing a couple eyelashes in the process. Not wanting the flame to go to waste he slides over the kettle and lets it sit to boil.

A few floors underneath his window the kids have started the soccer game, coin toss called and teams divvied up with a few vulgarities smattered in between. Rolling up his sleeves István leans on the edge of the sink, steel biting into his elbows. The curtains that Cvijeta had sent him are a nice touch of life against the toneless backdrop, the window smudged and foggy from the clash of the dreary late winter and the lukewarm temperature of the kitchen. He reaches to tug back the curtains, pauses with his fingers over the window latch, writes a nice fasz kivan in the condensation and dust before unlocking and lifting the thing. Cigarette smoke filters out and the settling evening dew turns the window sill damp. A street over, the tram jingles its merry way across town.

István watches the kids play for a few, mild amusement enough to keep him entertained without radio or television and the newspaper shoved into the bin, still folded, covered in the morning’s coffee grounds. One of the younger ones, Béla or Pista or something or other, really has a mouth on him, makes István think of a younger version of himself but a millennium into the future. His jaw hurts too much to smile about it. Right as the smoke burns itself to the filter and spat into the sink the kettle starts to whistle.

Everything about the world around him and in him is too muted and gray, like he’s had his whole head wrapped and filled with wool and the fog had descended into his head. It could be the halothane or his whole situation but it pisses him off more than saddens him. Catharsis is hard to find within yourself and the same four walls that make up your life. The kettle screams all the while he reaches for the rotary and dials through his short rolodex. Feliks doesn’t answer. Cvijeta does answer, but tipsy, so he lets her go whenever he hears the glass clink against the receiver.

Three more rings gets him another answer.

“Lelkem.” His voice is a drone.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Ilse.” Still no inflection.

“Did you call me in the middle of a murder?”

He had forgotten the kettle, shrill and demanding his attention, now echoed by a neighbor banging a fist against the wall. “Esetleg. Maybe.” He shrugs, sandwiching the phone between one shoulder and his ear while he takes off the kettle, pouring it into one of the cleaner cups for the tea to steep. “Maybe I’m the one dying.”

The pause is the length of one of her trademark eyerolls. István can picture her poking the phone cord and twirling it around one finger, bored with him already. “So you call me.”

“So I call you. Pretty sad, huh.”

"Do you need me to read you the last rites? What do you want, István." Now her inflection drops flat, a sure sign that he'd better start talking or at least give her a reason to listen to whatever he'd picked up the phone for or else he'd have the company of his hissing radiator and right hand for the night. He clicks off the burner.

"I went to the dentist today," he starts, "Almost got wires in my jaw."

"That would have been a service to us all. Who knew you could find a good dentist in Budapest?"

"Shut up and let me talk, it's hard enough managing this shit and your mouth." The lip print he leaves on the rim of his cup is tinged pink with blood. The poor excuse for tea tastes god awful with the copper tang.

Ilse scoffs, indignant. "Well?"

"I almost got wires in my jaw," he repeats, leaning against the wall where the phone cord droops from the rotary. "Five of my teeth are gone, some guy pulled 'em. I dunno where they went."

"Some guy?" Her tone is surprised, crackling a bit at the end with interference.

"Months ago, some guy took me aside, some building near where I work. It happens sometimes to people," he sips at the too hot drink, parsing his language into vague enough bits that the ears in the walls wouldn't think much, just a conversation between and man and his ex-wife and few illegal tooth extractions. "He tried talking to me, tried to get me to talk about stuff. But you know me, I don't really trust well. You should know that more than anyone, actually." His jaw still hurts enough to prevent a smirk but amusement bleeds into his tone even as she groans.

"So I don't talk to this guy, or his friends with the guns. I think my exact words were 'you'll get more out of a corpse, and I can't die'. They knew I'm one of those immortal things out there. So instead one guy pulls my head back by the nostrils and another guy's got a pair of pliers. The guy with the pliers goes, alright harelip, if you aren't gonna talk now, you'll remember us when you talk later." Then, silence, the kettle cooling and the kids huddled around the street lights. His jaw is throbbing; they were right. So he shrugs and crosses one foot over the other at the ankle, one sock more thread than cloth. "You can guess the rest. So now my jaw hurts."

"Doesn't seem to be stopping you." Her retort lacks the bite that her others had. There are the background noises of her house: a window shutting, a light switch clicking. "I still don't see why you called me. I'm the last person who'd pat your hand over the phone. István--"

"You think I called you for sympathy? Nyasgem. You give yourself too much fucking credit. I called you because at most you'd call me an asshole, and at the very least you'd listen for a minute before hanging up." His teeth clack together when he bites the vowels too hard and he has to spit whenever he finishes. "That's stability for me nowadays. I don't want you to fucking understand because there's nothing worse than two miserable people talking about how miserable they are. Just listen to me for two seconds, call me an idiot bastard again so I can hang up and call it a normal day." He wipes his lower lip with the back of his wrist, punctuating the sentiment.

The silence hangs like smoke--there, but opaque and waiting. "You're an idiot. A total bastard." Her voice cuts through the fog and he can finally take a deep breath.

"Yeah, what you said."

"Waiting for months to fix that bad mouth of yours-- the biggest idiot that side of the curtain."

"You might be right, you might be wrong."

"I'm more right than you'll ever be." There's the Ilse he knows and thinks of, tone as arch as her brow. This time he smirks through the sharp ache at the back of his mouth when she asks, "Can I hang up now? Or do you have to have the last word as always?"

That's all he wanted to hear. "Nah, just one more thing." He turns to the rotary, leaning palm and temple against the wall. "Thanks. Zsóka. Call me first next time."

“Not on your life.”

It’s a nice promise. His eyelids fall shut at the click of the line, open again when the shrill dial tone beeps its monotone pattern. He drops more than sets the phone back in the cradle and sets his cup aside, the tea gone lukewarm and bitter. The kids are back at the game outside, calling and fighting over a penalty shot.

Still leaning against the wall, István feels better, he supposes. The world is returning to focus, sharp and painful. The empty sockets ache all over again but it's fresh, his pulse echoing in his ears, blood pumping, normalcy returned. He rubs at the sharp line of his jaw, pressing his fingertips into the stubble and skin there, and catches the clock right as the minute hand clicks forward. He latches the window shut again, wipes away the message he wrote on the cloudy glass, but leaves open the curtain.

#my writing #my shoulder hurts too much to draw so i did some writing instead #can't say i'm too dissatisfied with it either. good job @ me #felvilágosítás 》ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎ

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otheroutlandertales · 6 years

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Anonymous said: What if Jamie had feelings for his best friend John, but was afraid to act on them in fear of messing everything up? What if his friend Claire encouraged him to make a move?

This will be a continuing story. Once we get the story established after a few chapters, feel free to send in some prompts for it.

In Orbit - Part 1

by @futurelounging

“Can I ask you a…-”

“...a…?”

“Whatsit called...right, a question.”

“Oh, aye. Answering questions from drunk Claire is my favorite game.”

Claire sloppily licked her lips and winked at Jamie, not her sexiest look. “Have you... ever been… in love?”

It should have felt easy and silly, like everything else between them. Instead his skin flushed and heated. Would diving under the table be acceptable? His cat, Adso, would retreat into the depths of Jamie’s closet, burrowing under his old university sweatshirts whenever he brought out the cat carrier, a sure signal that a trip to the vet was imminent. There was only an empty glass before him. No sweatshirts for burrowing. “Maybe?”

She shook her head slowly. “Your honor, I object. The defendant’s non-committal, evasive, and frankly, chickenshit answer is, I contend, wholly disingenuous. Sustained!” She downed the rest of her drink and locked eyes with him.

“Claire.” He meant it as a warning, but it sounded more like a plea as he said it, his voice cracking. God, he was a mess.

“I can see it, plain as day, Jamie.”

“I canna risk losing my best friend. I just…” His throat constricted. Every night for the last three months he’d been playing this out in his head. How had things changed? There was always an attraction, but neither was available when they first met so it was shelved, another of life’s mis-timings. Then the break-up three months ago sent everything into a tailspin. The desire he thought he’d left in the past came roaring back and he suddenly found himself nervous to be in the same room.

“Jamie, don’t you see? Don’t you know how amazing it is to fall in love with your best friend? Are you worried you might enjoy yourself too much? All that happiness just a little too perfect for the story you’ve written?”

“I’m terrified.”

“I know. I’m terrified every day.”

He reached his hand across the table and cupped her cheek, warm and a little sticky from an errant shot of whisky earlier in the night. She leaned into his hand and smiled. “It canna go on like this, I ken that,” he admitted solemnly.

“John looks at you the same way you look at him. Like you hung the moon. And you’re both spinning around, slipping in and out of each other’s orbits, wondering why you keep feeling that pull.”

The Glasgow evening had turned damp and still, a heavy fog clinging to the stones underfoot. Claire hung drowsily on Jamie’s arm as he deposited her on the steps of her flat. “Promise me ye’ll not throw up in yer sleep? Drink lots of water and take some Ibuprofen?”

“Yes, sweet worrying man. And you promise me you’ll go to John and trust him with your heart?”

“No promises, Sassenach.”

She sighed and kissed his cheek, mouthing “go” to him as she turned up the stairs.

Jamie spun on his heels and headed toward his place. The streetlights glowed in the mist and he imagined each one a little checkpoint as he passed. His heart grew lighter with each step and without realizing it, he found himself at the door to John’s building. Someone had wedged a rock in the interior door, as was often the case, so he slipped through and ascended the two floors.

He didn’t let himself hesitate at the door, knocking sharply three times. “Hey, I just really wanted to see ye… I was just thinking about us… I was wonderin’ if ye thought we might be more…” The lines played through his mind as he waited. And waited. He knocked again, quietly speaking against the door. “John, it’s Jamie.” The minutes ticked by and he felt his heart clench. His stomach rolled, nauseous with shame.

What are ye thinkin? He’s out wi’ someone. No’ waitin’ alone in his flat for ye to show up and sweep him off his feet like some goddamned movie.

The mist turned to rain during his walk home and he was shivering by the time he closed the door behind him. Adso arched and rubbed against his leg and quickly thought the better of it after feeling the water-soaked jeans. Jamie peeled his clothes off and threw on an old t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. And, just as he’d advised Claire, filled his water bottle and popped a few Ibuprofen to save him in the morning.

Jamie pushed an extra pillow under his head and settled in for the night. Adso took his usual spot, pressed against Jamie’s hip. He unlocked his phone and turned off the light and stared helplessly at the background of his homescreen. He and John, posing ridiculously atop a mountain. The phone fell from his grasp and he squeezed his eyes shut, trapping the tears. Why was this so hard?

Jamie had left his flat focused, at peace with the failure of the night before. He had too much work to do in any case. Two new conservation project kickoff meetings in one day would eat up any free time.

It had been a decidedly terrible idea to let Claire talk him into drinks last night. She had a way of cajoling him into imbibing excessively on work nights. Perhaps if she didn’t have such a ridiculous schedule at the hospital, he wouldn’t feel compelled to take her up on her every request.

He passed the day with three coffees (one too many), twisting back and forth in conference room chairs, a laptop with a flickering screen that drove him mad, and a panicked coworker who had somehow lost a substantial donation check for their general fund.

By mid-afternoon his eyelids began to droop, and his thoughts turned inward. He hadn’t texted John. Hadn’t heard from him either, which was a bit unusual. They rarely went a day without a few obnoxious texts. John sent teasing barbs. Jamie sent awkward selfies. He didn’t have it in him to manage a selfie today.

His thumb hovered over the phone’s keyboard for a moment, uncertain of what to say.

Sleeping one off today?

Three dots immediately appeared on the screen, but no response arrived. Two minutes passed, and Jamie began to feel uneasy. He’d try once more. Suddenly his phone screen lit up with John’s contact avatar.

Christ, a phone call. That’s not good.

“John, hey.”

Silence greeted him, interrupted by John’s shaky breath.

“John, are ye okay?”

John cleared his throat and answered, “I’m, uh, I’m at the hospital in Sheffield. My…”

Jamie’s body tensed as John’s voice broke. “What happened, John?”

“My father, uh he, he was on the M1 and I don’t really know what happened. He didn’t… didn’t make it, so I’m here. But he didn’t make it, Jamie.”

Tears stung Jamie’s eyes as he heard his friend’s voice shatter. He’d lost his own father during his first year of college, and had hidden away from everyone, unable to face that kind of misery. He had slowly worked through it, eventually confiding in Claire, solidifying their friendship into something stronger than usual.

The pain John was feeling echoed in his own chest and he choked on his words. “God, John. I’m so sorry. I’ll come down tonight if ye’d like. I want to. Can I bring ye anything?”

John took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I need my suit for the funeral if you wouldn’t mind. I’ll be at my par-... at my mother’s house.”

Jamie drifted through John’s apartment, surprising himself with just how well he knew where everything would be. He zipped John’s suit into the bag with his own, chest to back. He texted his friend Rupert with instructions for Adso and sent another quick one to Claire, though she was likely just starting her shift.

The train lulled him to sleep, pressing dreams behind his eyes. John hiked ahead of him, playfully jumping over small rocks and standing atop small boulders triumphantly. But any time Jamie neared him, he leapt ahead, just out of a reach.

John’s mother, Benedicta, met him at the door, watching for him in the tall front windows. It was late, and the streets were still. Her face was slack, weary from tears. “It’s so good of you to come, Jamie. You’re a very dear friend to John.”

Her frame was so thin and weak in his arms; he felt as if he was holding her up. “I am so sorry.”

She gathered herself, ever regal, and motioned for him to join John upstairs.

The guest room door was ajar, and he could see John through the opening, slumped forward on the bed, staring at the Persian rug under his bare feet, the lamplight shadowing his face. His head tilted up slightly at Jamie’s appearance, and he took him in slowly, pulling his mind from the dark recesses.

“Jamie. You’re here.”

“John.”

Jamie dropped the bags inside the door and stood before John, his hand extended for him to take hold should he wish. John reached out and wrapped his fingers around Jamie’s and pulled himself up. He made no move, but Jamie pulled him against his chest and held him. Slowly John’s arms moved up his back, grasping the fabric of Jamie’s shirt around his shoulders. He then quietly fell apart.

In the morning they woke in a cloud of each other’s warmth, chest to back, Jamie’s hand cradled against John’s heart. Slowly John turned to his back and glanced over at Jamie’s sleepy face, a crooked smile pushed against the pillow, his hair standing on end. “Thank you.”

They drifted quietly through the house that day, John arranging flowers people delivered, Jamie cooking meals for no one, John stopping short of his mother’s bedroom so as not to see his father’s slippers peeking out from the edge of the bed.

Benedicta held her emotions tightly against her chest, quivering under the surface, but never falling apart. “We need to get one of your father’s suits for the service. He needs a suit.”

Jamie rose from the table and held his hand to John’s shoulder to still him. “I’ll get it.”

John’s older brother Hal, spoke solemnly and reverently at the funeral, and John followed suit, his voice steady. He’d turned the words into symbols, turned their meaning to dust and brushed it into a bin. This moment was not for him or his sorrow. It was his father’s moment and he’d have hated it. There was no right way to have a funeral.

Jamie’s eyes held him carefully, John’s body an eggshell with hairline cracks. The tiniest pressure would drain him.

Before they left, John’s mother gave him his father’s pocket watch and his palm gripped it until it left grooves in his skin.

They spoke of Jamie’s new projects on the train ride home. They counted bird species and bought candy bars they’d not had since they were children. They found a newspaper with an unfinished crossword puzzle and pressed their temples together as they completed it. They spoke into each other’s ears of transportation funding and whether or not they could achieve a home-cooked curry to rival their favorite curry house (doubtful). When they neared the city and the words slowed to intermittent observations, John’s hand found Jamie’s and their warm palms pressed another truth between them.

It is not always the urgent demands of romantic pursuit that pull two souls into one orbit. Sometimes it is the broken cries of grief or the heart’s anxious whispers looking for a sympathetic soul to share the simplest of life’s moments. They had circled around one another for so long, memorizing one another's quirks and foibles, preferences and proclivities. When it was time to finally turn together, toward one another sharing the same trajectory, Jamie and John felt as though they'd finally found the path toward home.

Continue to Part 2

#outlander fanfiction #otheroutlandertales #mod fulo #pair: jamie x john #ch: jamie #ch: john #ch: claire #modern au #category: mm #queerlander #in orbit #oot #*

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mrsren · 6 years

Text

Unnamed Tomione

It still has no name, but I can’t help sharing it here. So, beginnings of a teacher/student AU. It’s super smutty, Tom is domineering, and delicious in my not so humble opinion. I’m sharing the entire thing as is, so some of it you’ve read from last time. I tagged some of the ones I knew liked/reblogged, hope you don’t mind.

@weestarmeggie17 @aconitumluparia @tomioness @alexandriarenee @dameesmeralda @apfelalice

All of it below

The pulsing lights of the club were alluring the patrons scattered throughout the room, some lounging against the bar, some dancing when they were barely able to stay on their feet. She noted a girl who was giggling loudly, laying on a table while her boyfriend -or she hoped it was her boyfriend- licked alcohol from her bellybutton.

“Get the frown off of your face. You look unapproachable.” Ginny harped, leading her to the bar with her arm looped through hers.

“Fantastic.” Hermione drawled, taking a seat on one of the barstools. “Considering I never wanted to be here in the first place.”

Ginny rolled her eyes.

“I don’t need a relationship.” she insisted, waving down the landlord. “Two shots please, vodka.”

“Hey, you know I hate that shite. Tequila, please.”

Hermione held her palm up, stopping the short, stocky man that eyed her oddly. “The vodka is for me.” she explained, and he gave a curt nod. “What’s that look for? If I’m going to be here, I’ll need all the liquid courage I can get.”

“We are going to have a bloody fantastic time. I didn’t ask you for a girls’ night so you could find a relationship. You need a one night stand to remove the stick up your arse.” Ginny sported a grin while Hermione gritted her teeth.

“It’s hardly a girls’ night if you’re trying to get me into bed with a random stranger. Thank you.” she took one of the shot glasses he slid to her, cool beneath her touch as she tipped it backward. It was cold, awful tasting as it slid down her throat. She gagged as she wasn’t able to swallow the shot in one go, half of it lingering in her mouth.

Ginny took her shot as if it were the first she’d ever downed, like she was a teenager who choked and Hermione chuckled at her. “Forgive me, your majesty. Not all of us are so well versed in taking shots.”

Hermione looked away from her, scanning the room. “I don’t particularly need a one night stand either, Ginny. I don’t need a male for my self validation.”

“Of course not, but I’ve seen you after you’ve had a good fucking,” Hermione grimaced, turning to her second shot. “And it’s been almost a year since I’ve seen that look on your face. I know Ron,”

“No.” Hermione hissed, setting the shot glass back on the counter. “Don’t you dare bring his name up if you want me to have a good night.”

She put her hands up, nails perfectly manicured from the appointment she’d set for herself and Hermione earlier that day. “What I mean to say is my brother didn’t appreciate you, and I want to see how happy you are when someone else appreciates you. And plus, you’re a little kinky and he never lived up to those expectations, right?”

“Ginny, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

“All the time, of course. Mostly you though. Come on, isn’t there anyone here that catches your eye?”

“As if I would ever tell you.” Hermione laughed at the flash of anger that crossed her closest friend’s face. “Just order some drinks, and we’ll have a good time all on our own.”

“Actually,” she sang, and Hermione groaned. “Harry will be here later, so I’m sure I will be having fun, but it won’t be with you. Ooh, what about that guy,” she pointed across the room, and Hermione’s eyes landed on an attractive brunette who wore a cocky smirk. “Because he’s been watching you since we stepped inside this club.”

He looked vaguely familiar, Hermione thought, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. “Hasn’t Molly ever told you it’s impolite to point?”

“I’m sorry,” she mocked. “Do you see him? He looks like he’s just what you need.” The man arched an eyebrow as Ginny’s words carried over the crowd. “Hermione!” she grabbed her by the arm, causing her to knock over the shot glass the landlord had just brought her.

“Will you stop acting like a child?” she hissed, ripping her arm free. “Yes, he’s attractive. Yes, he’s taken an interest in me, but no that does not mean I will be hopping merrily into his bed.”

Ginny argued adamantly, with the idea that Hermione should go settle into the empty seat beside him and ask if he’d mind buying her a drink. “Say you forgot your wallet.”

“Ginny, my wallet is sitting on the counter.” she deadpanned. “Doesn’t matter, looks like he’s coming to me.” Her friend vanished, vacating the seat with the reassurance that she would wait to observe before calling Harry and bailing on her. “Hello.” she told him, spinning back to face the front of the counter.

“Your friend is staring.”

She laughed, leaning backwards in her seat to see Ginny sitting in the seat he’d left, shooting her a ridiculous thumbs up and wide eyed grin. “Yeah, she does that. I’d just ignore her if I were you. Hermione.” she introduced, extending her hand.

“Tom.” he replied, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Her lips parted in surprise, while she attempted to cover her shock. A small smile settled over her face while he dropped her hand. “What were you drinking?”

“Vodka,” she answered, thinking her voice sounded more breathless than it had moments earlier. It was what Ginny would have called a turning point, and it was what Hermione would have neatly classified as a cliche that belonged in an old romance novel that she hid under her bed. “You?”

“The same. May I buy you a drink?”

Her lips quirked up. “Make it several.” He chuckled and something in her stomach twisted deliciously at how dark it sounded.

She’d made the executive decision to not drink herself stupid like she might have if Ginny had still been at her side. It was clear where her night was going when she found herself dancing with Tom in the middle of the floor, her back pressed to his front. His hand ghosted against her hips, tugging her backwards when she slipped too far away from him.

“So, your friend left as soon as she spotted you with someone.” he whispered into her ear.

It was definitely the drinks that had her swaying as if she knew what she was doing and grinding into him. “Oh, yes. She must have decided you were enough to give me a good time. She’s rather pushy with the opinion that I need a one night stand to make everything better.”

“And what do you think?” he asked quietly, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. “You seemed rather against being here in the first place.”

“What do I think? Ginny thinks finding a new man for me is the best way to help me after her brother fucked an ex girlfriend behind my back, in our bed, and in our apartment. We had been dating for long enough that it hurt.” she shrugged, his hands coming to massage the knots from them. “She doesn’t believe that I simply let go.”

“Hmm,” he mused lowly in her ear. “That’s preposterous, you’re hardly the type of woman to hold onto a boyfriend who wasn’t enough for you.”

She laughed, her head laying back against his shoulder while she peered up at him. “You are far too intoxicated to be using words like ‘preposterous’.” Her head rolled to the side, and she pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat. His fingers gripped her hips. “She’s a great friend. She’s worried about me.”

“Worried that you’re alone?”

Hermione snorted. “Hardly, not in the way you’re thinking of anyway. She is constantly nagging me for getting myself off, rather than finding someone else,” she nipped at his neck. “To take care of me.”

“You’re sloshed.” he told her, pressing himself into her. A whimper slipped out of her at the obvious bulge that settled against the curve of her arse. “Otherwise I doubt you’d have just told me how you get yourself off. Tell me more, would you?”

She was melting, and she knew it. He had her trapped in a neat web, one she’d helped him weave with her not so subtle comments. Tom was intriguing, the way he spoke, the way kept up with her, and the way he reacted to her acceptance into a grad program. She knew he was intelligent by the way he carried himself.

And that this had ultimately turned into a game of cat and mouse.

“What do you want to know?” she uttered softly.

Tom gripped her hand, twirling her and looping her arms around his neck. “Did you use your fingers, or did you use a toy? Do you finger yourself until you spasm, and come over your fingers?”

Hermione was trembling against him, looking into dark eyes that gave away what he wanted to do with her, that there was hardly anything stopping him from dipping his fingers beneath the slutty black number -Ginny had bought it- and into her pretty black, lacy knickers. Given her heels, she was able to match his height to whisper in his ear. “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want me to show you?” she challenged, feeling his grip shift to the back of her neck and his fingers grip strands of her hair.

He’d picked her up easily when she stumbled on the stairs leading to his flat, chuckling in her ear as her dress slid up. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, cupping his jaw with one hand while she tugged on soft, brown hair. Her mouth slanted against his, she kissed him thoroughly, slowly at first, almost tentatively until her back was slammed against the door of his flat.

A door opened, a nosy neighbor peeking out to see who exactly the soft whimpers belonged to. Tom unlocked his door too easily, she thought, and doubled her efforts to fluster him with a smirk.

He kicked the bottom of the door open, the door knob connecting with the door stop and he locked it behind him. “Christ.” she murmured as he yanked on her hair, her head falling back while he nipped the skin of her neck.

There was the recurring thought that Ginny was going to die whenever she found out she’d actually gone home with the hot, older man from the club. If she told her that is, Hermione thought she might like to keep this night a secret as she was sure Tom was the kind of man who would show her everything she wanted to try and more. Unlike her previous boyfriend-,

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs against her skin, carrying her through his flat and into a bedroom. “Come back to me, love.” Tom’s voice was low, hot against her ear as his lips skimmed her neck.

And she’s blissfully drunk, still coherent, but she’s brave enough to sink to her knees when he sets her down. With a grin she undoes his belt, the button on his trousers and pulls them down with his boxers. Her eyes widen a fraction, she turns her head so he won’t see her cheeks heat up.

His cock is, if she were forced to compare, the same length as her ex boyfriend, but thicker than she’d ever had. This night cannot go on long enough. From him sweeping her into his arms, her dress in bunched around her waist, exposing her thong.

“No,” he tells her, taking hold of her hair how she liked, and pulled her to look at him. “I want you in front of the mirror so I can see your arse when I like.” A whimper slips between her lips as he walks backwards towards the bed, guiding her by her hair, and her knickers dampen. He tilts his head to the side, a feral look in his eye. “Actually,” he begins softly. “Would you slip the dress off?”

Hermione nods, leaning against his lap while he reaches down her back to unzip her dress. Her eyes flick to his cock, resting against his leg and right in front of her lips. Her tongue slides against the tip, her plump lips wrapping around it.

He groans above her, and her dress tears. “Look what you’ve done now,” he muses. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’ll give you something to wear.” Tom rips her dress, forgetting the zipper and she gasps. He takes the opportunity to thrust into her mouth, his fingers sliding along her spine. The tip hits the back of her throat before he pulls her away from him.

He reaches out to trace her pouty bottom lip with his thumb. “Take your knickers off, Hermione.” Her name is a low rumble from the back of his throat, a smile toying with his lips. His eyes flick down to her bare chest, the dress had been tight enough to hold her breasts in, not to mention pushing them up. “So pretty.” he cooes, brushing a finger across the tight bud, watching it harden.

It’s difficult to say if her legs shake because she’s intoxicated, or if it’s because of the sexual power this man held over her. Her fingers hook into the sides of her knickers, slowly sliding them down in front of him. “On your knees for me?” he phrases it as a question, but his eyes give away that it’s an order. “Legs apart, I want to see your cunt.”

She moans softly, dropping to the floor and parting her legs to expose herself. “Fuck,” she gasps as he takes hold of her hair once more. She peeks up at him in an effort to memorize the hard line of his jaw, the way he was looking down on her. She licked the underside of his cock, dragging her tongue against his flesh.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her lips around his cock once more. She wrapped her hand around the bottom of his shaft, pumping as she worked to take him in her mouth. Muffled moans slipped from her mouth while she sucked him, but a tugging at her hair brought her attention back to him.

She nods, letting her hand fall away from him, letting him take control. He thrust into her mouth once more, grinning wickedly when she gagged as he hit the back of her throat. “You are perfect,” he tells her, his soft voice a contrast from the way he fucked her throat. “Do you like it rough, Hermione?”

It’s all she can do to moan as his grip on her hair tightens, tilting her head back while he stands. Her eyes water, as to be expected when she managed to deep throat him. He pulls away, and she whines in disappointment. “If you keep sucking my cock like that, I’ll come down your throat.”

She remains in her pose on the floor, hoping he will come back and do just that. “That sounds perfect.” she grins.

“Not yet,” Tom crooks a finger at her. “Sit on the bed for me, I’m going to grab a drink for myself.” He smacks her arse as she stands, pulling her to him by her shoulders, slipping a hand between her legs from behind. “You’re dripping.” he whispers in her ear, sliding a finger between her folds. His arm comes to her collarbone, pinning her to his front. “How do you taste?” Tom slips his index finger into her mouth, groaning when she cleans his finger with her tongue.

“Just bring the bottle,” her body shudders against him as his erection slips between her arse. His only reply is to bite down on the hollow of her throat, catching her when she nearly stumbles. “Tom.”

“On my bed,” he reminds her before releasing her.

She’s breathless as she crawls onto the large bed, tucking her legs beneath her and sitting on her knees. He seemed to like her like this, she thought with a smile. It was clear she’d have to thank Ginny Weasley for dragging her out to a club.

Her nipples stiffened against the cold air of his room while she clasped her hands in her lap. She laughed when he appeared in the doorway, carrying a bottle of vodka with no glass in sight. Hermione grabbed the bottle from him, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink while he unbuttoned his shirt.

Tom took the bottle from her outstretched hand, kneeling in front of her. She’d thought he was going to take a drink himself, but was thrilled to be wrong. He tilted the glass bottle over her, letting the ice cold liquor slide over her breast, a droplet sliding over her nipple that he caught with his tongue.

She whimpered, grabbing onto his shoulders while he laid her back against the pillows, sucking on the poor nub. The bottle never leaving his grip, she noticed. Hermione rubbed her legs together, desperate for friction, but he parted her legs by wedging his knee between them. “Oh, my God, please.” she begged, throwing her head back as he rubbed her clit.

“Whatever you like,” he tells her, licking between her breasts before latching onto her other nipple, nipping it lightly. “You have to tell me though.”

She pants above him, snatching the bottle and taking a long drink before answering. “I want you to taste me.” she teases him, using his earlier words. “I want you to eat me out.”

Tom leaves the bottle in her trembling hands, gripping her hips as he moves down her body. He leaves a trail of hot kisses down her abdomen, pressing his lips to her smooth mound. Hermione watched him with wide eyes as he spread her legs apart while her back was against the wooden headboard.

He held her legs steady when she began to shake as he leaned in and inhaled the scent of her. “Oh, my God.” she whimpered, taking the moment for another drink. The hangover would be horrible in the morning, but if she sobered up, she was sure she’d get embarrassed and run. “Tom,” she moaned loudly, knocking the headboard against the wall when he licked between her folds, dragging his tongue up her slit and flicking the sensitive little nub.

“You’re delicious.” he growls, lowering his mouth while maintaining eye contact with her. He laps at her cunt with slow strokes against her clit. He watches her eyes fall shut while she pushes herself closer to his mouth. Not that he lets her, he pins her down and puts her through the pleasure he slowly gives her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” she groans, her back arching. “That feels so good, Tom, please.” She has no idea what she’s begging for. His index finger slides into her, curling deliciously while he works to find her g spot, and when he does-,

Hermione screams at the sensation, he’d added another finger. Between his fingers curling against the spot inside of her, and him sucking lightly on her clit -no one has ever done that, she thinks mindlessly- she feels boneless. Hermione comes hard on his mouth, spasming when he continues eating her out while her body rocks from her orgasm.

“Tom,” she gasps, her legs relaxing finally as he moves up her body, capturing her lips roughly. He bites her bottom lip, his cock sliding between her lips while she scrambles to pull her closer. “Fuck, where have you been all of my life?”

He chuckles, taking a drink while she presses her lips to his throat, biting down roughly. She’s going to leave marks on him, so that when tomorrow comes he knows exactly who left them. “Waiting to meet you in a shitty club, apparently.”

She laughs, licking the vodka that slips from the corner of his mouth and down his throat. “Tastes better off of you.” Hermione whispers to him, biting his bottom lip as he had done to her.

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” he groans, letting her shove him onto his back and grind her cunt against his stiff cock. “This is pretty,” he murmurs, tracing what she assumed was a bruise he’d left on her neck. “Did I hurt you?”

“Absolutely not.” she moans, moving to impale herself.

Of course he stops her. “I want you to watch me fuck you senseless, until you’re begging.” he whispers to her, smirking when she freezes over him. “I’m going to make you scream for it, Hermione.”

Gripping her by her waist, she couldn’t wait to see the bruises that would be left in the shape of his fingers tomorrow morning, he moves her into a position she’s never been in before. “Trust me,” he purrs in her ear, moving her ride him with her back facing him. She sees them clearly in the mirror in front of his bed. His cock is thick, pressed against her swollen, dripping cunt.

Christ, he’s too fucking hot.

“Tom,” she whines impatiently, just as he guides her down his cock. She watches, open mouthed and shaking, while he slides into her. Watching her cunt stretch to take in his massive cock makes her moan loudly.

Who cares if his neighbor is eavesdropping?

“Tell me what you see.” he orders her, thrusting into her tight heat several times, listening to sweet, little whimpers that keep him impossibly hard.

“You fucking me.” she manages between her ragged breaths. “The way your cock stretches me, God, you’re so big.” She can’t see his smirk, but she’s sure it’s there. “I can see my tits bouncing each time you slide into me.”

He hums. “Do you see how wet you are for me?” Tom asks her, slamming into her harder. “Did sucking me off do that to you?” A nod. “We’re going to change positions.” he tells her, letting her crawl off of his lap. “Do you like being told what to do?” Tom’s voice is soft, but firm, and she can only nod.

“I do, but you’re the only one to ever give it to me how I want.” she grins as he’s taken by surprise.

“On your hands and knees,” he tells her, and she crawls in front of him, bracing herself on her arms instead of her hands and arching her back. He slaps her arse, settling behind her and guiding his cock to her entrance. Tom leans down to whisper in her ear. “You like it rough?”

“Please.” she returns, pressing herself against him, the tip slipping inside of her. “I think I’d like it any way you want to give it to me.”

“You shouldn’t give me that kind of power, love.”

She looks back at him. “Then make me regret it.” Hermione isn’t sure why she said it, she’s certainly never played with fire before, but it’s hard to regret it when he grabs her roughly by her hair, wrapping the strands around his knuckles.

“Watch me fuck you then.” he growls.

And she watches while holding her breath in anticipation when he slams into her roughly, her front half dropping to the sheets while he fucks her like he’s attempting to break her. “Tom!” she squeals, wriggling her arse when he spanks her again and she finds that she’s utterly in love with the delicious pain it causes her.

She feels completely full as he thrusts into her, groaning how tight her cunt is wrapped around his cock. He tells her what a pretty, little cunt she has, spread so nicely by his cock. His words would have pushed her into another orgasm alone, but then he takes her by surprise once more.

“Play with your clit for me until you come. I want you to be a screaming mess that’s wrapped around me when you come.”

She whimpers as his finger rubs against her arse hole, while she reaches between her legs. Her fingers slip as she’s so wet, but she strokes her clit, rubbing in circles quickly as she cries out. “Have you ever had your arse fingered?” Tom asks her, massaging the tight ring. She shakes her head. “Would you?”

“Yes,” she gasps. “Jesus, I’ll try anything.” she admits and watches his face light up.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, slipping his finger into her cunt alongside his cock. He coats her arse hole with her slick juices, carefully pushing the tip of his finger inside. “You’re allowed to come once you can take my finger.”

Her eyes widen, but she nods quickly. His thrusts don’t slow as he carefully slides his finger inside of her, pausing when it reaches his knuckle. Hermione adjusts to it easily, she’s sure it’s because she’s lost count of the amount of shots she’s taken, but she pushes herself backwards. “Please don’t stop.” she begs, moaning as his eyes darken and she feels his finger slide all the way in. “Move!” she shrieks at him, her hand between her legs rubbing the hard nub quickly.

And he does, he fingers her rougher once she’s acclimated to it, once she’s begging him to be rougher. “Come around me, Hermione.” he urges her. “Let me feel your cunt tighten around my cock before I fill you.”

She’s never been so grateful for being on her birth control shot, and for him being genuine in having had a physical not too long ago. It’s still risky, something she’d have never done if she wasn’t begging for his cock.

He was right when he said she’d be screaming.

Hermione screams, it’s his name on her lips, she thinks and she shudders. She continues to rub her clit, while he fucks her so hard she knows she’s going to feel it for days. “Tom, Tom.” she repeats his name over and over again.

Tom yanks her backwards by her hair, her arse against his pelvis while he sheathes himself fully inside of her while he comes. He groans her name, his voice low, broken and husky. “Fuck, it’s more like where have you been all of my life?” he mutters under his breath and she’s sure she wasn’t supposed to hear it.

Hermione turns to face him on her knees, dragging her soaking fingers across his lips, coating them with her juices.

It’s him who shouts though when she wraps her lips around the tip of his cock, sucking lightly while she tastes herself on him.

#tomione #tomione smut #tomione teacher/student AU

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 6 years

Text

Better From Here

Monsta X

Shin Hoseok (Wonho)/ Reader [F]

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Words:4.6k

I really tried my best as some fluffy smut, so we’ll just roll right on into this.

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What started out as meeting each other at the gym, growing conversations, coffee runs and lame jokes grew into a relationship. Now, it was nearly hitting the point of your and Wonho’s relationship anniversary. It had only been a year, but that was enough time for feelings and emotions to grow and be nurtured over time and Wonho’s had been in a tizzy lately.

There was no question that you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on, and he’d find himself admiring you, none to discreetly, every chance he could get. He also boasted about you any chance he had to the boys, to the point they had to issue him punishments if he talked about you for more than 10 minutes at a time.

They love to pieces and they’re grateful that you make Wonho happy, but they can only take so much of his gushy side.

However, lately, Wonho had been looking at you with eyes that made his ears burn and his face flare into a heat. You both met at the gym on fateful day, and he had helped you work a machine that was stuck so you couldn’t get the weight to change. After probably 15 minutes of fooling with it, laughing at each other and under the breath mumbling, you just decided to give up and finally tell the staff.

From that day, to now, the two of you always favored your ‘gym dates’, or so he called them. He’d be proud of you when you would push yourself just a bit more than the previous day, but would always make sure you were drinking water and breaking in between sets. You, in turn, did this to him.

But, now when you went, he’d catch the sweat rolling from your forehead to drip down your chin. Or he’d bite at his lip when he saw it roll underneath your shirt, down your breasts and between their valley. He’d watch your legs as you worked on an elliptical or was stretching and everything about you seemed like too much. He was becoming hypersensitive to everything you did, and he’d find himself clearing his throat or swallowing to keep it from drying all too often.

He’d distract himself by working out himself, and would try to push your image out of his head, and would normally succeed at this, but when the two of you would leave, and he’d give you a ride back to your apartment, he’d feel the images coming back. He’d drop you off, drive back to his dorm, and just flop onto his bed in his shared room with his members and just huff, finally able to breathe.

He knew what his mind was telling him, it was painfully obvious, but he simply didn’t want to scare you or, at worst, be rejected. It’s been a year, so of course this was something that was going to happen one way or another with you.

Of course he was becoming more needy.

His face would burn and he’d slap his hands over his eyes and groan when he even thought about what would happen if he told you he wanted you, much less how he wanted to take you. He knew that you were still a virgin, you had told him that before pretty casually. You were pretty chill with the fact that you were a relatively innocent person. No sex, no illegal drugs or crimes on your name, and you’d only had a bit of alcohol in your life.

Those facts only frustrated him further.

It was a day off for him, so after spending have the day with his team just hanging in the house and watching TV and playing games, he decided to shoot you a text so he could drop by and spend the rest of the day with you. It wasn’t often he got a full day off, so it would be nice to be with you for a while.

Wonho: ‘I’m coming over later. Need anything?’

You: ‘No. Just come whenever, the door will be open.’

That was the entire conversation you shared, as he got up and started to dress himself up enough to go out. Just a simple pair of his ripped jeans, a white t-shirt and a hoodie along with his standard face mask he wore out and a black cap. He thought about wearing makeup, but he wasn’t going anywhere besides your place and you preferring him without it, as you’re stated many times, so he passed this time.

He announced he was leaving to the small group of members in the living room before he set off to your place. When he got there, he was greeted with the unlocked door as he stepped inside and shouted to you he was there. You shouted back from the living room as he entered and saw you, nearly choking.

You were laying with on your couch, but completely opposite than a person would sit on it. Your legs were on the back of the couch, your feet up in the air, exposing your legs and making your shorts show closer and closer to your panty line. Your chest was on the cushions and your back was arched from the drop, pushing out your chest more than necessary with your neck hanging off the couch completely, exposing your entire neck.

This certainly wasn’t helping Wonho’s state of confusion and swirling pit of desire in his head, much less his pants.

“What exactly are you doing?” He asked you as he turned to look at his standing form, pulling the mask off his face and tossing it on the table.

“Hoping the blood rushing to my head will inspire me to do something that will finally get rid of my boredom.” You scoffed at your childish ways, and also praised them. He always found your childish nature and your ‘solutions’ to your problems undeniably precious.

“All that’s going to do is give you a headache and hurt your back.” You groaned as your flew your arms up to hang off the end of the couch and joining your head as your fingers brushed the floor.

“Yes, I’m starting to catch onto that.” You somehow managed to roll onto your stomach and contort your body to arch at an unpleasant way to just look at as you walked your hands out until your body fell off the couch and you now lay sprawled on the floor.

“So, you’re on the floor.”

“Yes, it seems that I am.”

“You have any plans on moving?”

“Nah, I hadn’t thought of it.” He rolled his eyes as you pat your stomach. “Come join me, it’s cooler down here.”

“There’s a perfectly good couch right here, recently empty I could easily just take up.”

“Couches are overrated. Besides, I’m much better than a couch.” He smiled as he sat down beside you.

“You have a point.”

“Of course I do.” He smiled again as he shook his head and felt you tug at his collar and push his head to lay on your stomach. Your hands brush through his head, taking off his cap and untangling the knots the cap had caused. He hummed pleasantly at the feeling. It was this, moments like these, that made him feel like you were too good for him.

He’d be going on a trip soon, becoming busy with shows and promotions for the Japanese album he and the rest of the team were going to release. Knowing that he’d be away from you, probably for a long span of time, he knew he had to tell you and he knew that if he didn’t get to touch you, he’d be frustrated much more than he would if you were with him.

“So, we’re releasing a Japanese Album soon.” You hummed.

“Yeah, I read about that. I’m excited for it, no doubt it’ll be amazing. I’m still giddy every time I turn on Spotlight, and you’re dropping 4 new original songs and Japanese versions of already existing ones? You spoil us.”

“Us?”

“Monbebe of course. I am one after all.”

“Ah, but are you thought?” He teased at you as you tugged at his hair, something he almost wanted you to do again.

“The biggest.” He groaned as he turned and started to rub your thigh. You thought nothing of it, as he did this often, but this time, he did it as he bit at his lips and felt a hazy gloss over his eyes when he was so close to you, more specifically, your innocent core.

“You know, we’ll be gone for awhile and I’ll be busy. It might be a few weeks until I get to see you again. Are you going to be okay?” You noticed a slight change in his behavior, like he wanted to keep the conversation going, or work it up to a point to talk to you about something, something specific. And you had an inkling on what it was he wanted to talk about.

“I’ll be alright. So long as you remember to text me when you get up and go to bed, that’s enough for me to know your doing well.” You stroked through his hair as he hummed. “Hey, is there something on your mind?” He jumped. “You seem like you want to talk to me about something.” So you noticed. He internally groaned at this, of course you could see through him, your attentive nature is another thing he loved about you. You were always there to jump on someone if they even oozed the slightest hint of discomfort or dropped hints something was on their mind.

“It's… it’s nothing really.” You flicked his head now. He didn’t enjoy that as much as he did the slight tug you gave him earlier on. He remained silent, even when you threatened to flick him again, leaving you only with a sigh.

“It’s about our sex life, isn’t it?” He shot up and turned, to lift himself and support his weight on his arm as he looked at you. His eyes blown and filled with what seemed like guilt in them.

“No! I mean, yes, but it’s fine!”

“Wonho-”

“No, seriously Y/N, it’s fine. I know how you feel about it, so I’m okay with waiting since it’s for you-”

“Do you want to have sex?” He choked on his words, along with his intake of breath.

“Wha- I’m sorry?” HIs voice upped a pitch as he asked you, his mind racing.

“I asked: do you want to have sex?” He felt a chill run down his spine as he shyly looked at anything in the room besides you. You snapped your fingers in front of his face and brought his attention back to you. “Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“Babe, I’m-”

“Answer the question Hoseok.” Normally, you opted to calling him by his stage name, since the public knew him best as that. It wasn’t everyday you whip out his actual name and that didn’t help him in the nerve department of this entire situation he found himself stuck in. No matter what he said, he felt like he’d be digging himself into a bigger hole, or much less just swan diving into his own grave.

If he said no he didn’t want it, you’d get annoyed at the fact that he’s lying while deadass looking you in the eyes. But, if he said yes, there was a chance you’d just huff, explain that you didn’t want sex yet and leave him feeling embarrassed and quite frankly, he didn’t want to do either of those. There was really no way to sidestep this though, you wouldn’t let him.

The easiest option was simply tell you what he wanted and hope he wouldn’t be ripped a new one.

“Well?” You questioned again. He sighed as he planted his face into your stomach, huffing and unintentionally taking in deep breaths of your scent.

“Yeah…”

“What? I can’t hear you when you talk into my shirt. It’s muffled and indecipherable.” He felt his head move as you pushed your upper body to sit up, moving his head to roll and lay on your thighs now. He moved and wrapped his arms around your waist as he lifted his mouth from your shirt and only pressed his forehead into your stomach, still effectively hiding his face. He had little doubt that his face was burning as bright as his red hair.

“I do. I really do.” You chuckled a bit as you ran your finger through his hair again, making him hum yet again.

“Well, at least your honest.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s perfectly normal to want to have sex with someone your in a relationship with, healthy even. Besides,” you paused for a moment, almost like you were silently making a final decision, “I think it’s about time anyways.” He didn’t move, just blinked a few time.

“Huh?”

“I think I’ve let you wait long enough. I need to stop worrying about myself and stop being scared and stop neglecting you. So, if you’re going to be leaving me, and want to do something before you go, I’ll let you.” He moved to push himself away from you and sit up, staring at you. He saw your eyes shake as you spoke and watched as your twiddled with your fingers, picking at your nails or biting your lip. You were clearly nervous, and probably scared shitless.

“Y/N, I know you mean well, but if you’re truly not ready yet, I’m not going to do anything. I’m not going to push it, I don’t want to scare you, or do something you’re not ready for.” He grabbed your hand and ran his thumb over your knuckles. “You know that. I won’t push it, just forget it, okay?” You shook your head.

“It’s nearly been a year Hoseok. I think I’ve denied you enough, so really. It’s okay.” You sounded slightly more certain the second time saying it, and as much as he wanted to keep you from feeling pressured into this, his body was starting to betray him.

“You know, if we do this, it’s going to hurt you, right?” That was what scared him the most. He knew that if you did this with him, it’s be painful for you, painful since you hadn’t slept with anyone before. You’d probably face him with tears or whimper at how it hurt, and honestly, if there was a bigger turn off that you getting hurt because of him, he would gladly have something point him to it.

“Yeah, I know that. Clearly, it’s going to happen someone day, either today or next month, it’s going to happen no matter when it happens. This is just putting it off.” You caressed his cheek with one of your hands. “I’ll be okay, so do what you have to. It’s okay.” His mind and common sense fought for a brief second more before he grabbed the back of your neck and pushed his lips onto yours.

The sudden action took you by surprise, not because of that fact he did it so quickly, but because he had so much intention, such desperate needs laced between his teeth as he pushed his touch out of his mouth to pry yours open. One of his arms laced around your lower back, pushing your closer to him as his other moved to circle around your outer thighs. He pulled away from you, eyeing your swollen lips as he smirked a bit.

“I didn’t want to have our first time to be on the ground sweetheart, but I don’t know if I can managed to will myself to take this up to your room.” You shook you head.

“It’s fine, if you can make it to the couch, that would be perfect.” You smirked at him as he pulled his lip between his teeth and grabbed your legs, pushing them open to wrap around his waist and lifted under your rear and push the both of you up. He suspended you on his waist as he walked back a few steps and felt his legs hit the couch before he unceremoniously sat himself down, you now straddling his lap.

You flushed at your compromising position. You’d been in this position before, but for nothing more than teasing, but now something was going to happen and embarrassment burned on your cheeks and ears. Wonho smirked at you as he took your flushed state and burned it into his mind before he ran his tongue up your neck and jawline before working to nip at your earlobe.

Your arms that rested on his shoulders, squeezed around him as you arched into him, some unfamiliar burning beginning to happen in your stomach. He kept nipping at your neck and running his tongue along your skin before he working on sucking rather harshly on one specific place on your clavicle. Your breath hitched as he worked on that one spot, and you could feel the cheeky smile on his face as he did so.

While he was busy with distracting you with his mouth, he moved his hand to roughly grip at your bare thigh, pushing his hand up the opening in your shorts and pulling the band of your women boxers before letting it go and having it snap against your body. You flinched and jumped at it, causing your body to unintentionally grind against Wonho, letting a groan tumble from his throat.

“Won-” He quickly grabbed your waist, cutting you off as he moved and pinned your back to the couch cushions. He put his neck near your neck, lips ghosting your skin forming goosebumps as he hooked a finger under the hem of our shorts and started lifting your hips to removed them.

“I’d rather you call me by my name while we do this sweetheart.” His voice was smooth and as the breath seemed to blast over your skin like a flamethrower. Your mind was so hazy that it was hard to keep up with everything. You barely even comprehended when Hoseok removed your shirt from you, leaving you in a training bra and small booty boxers.

He’d seen you like this before, in nothing but your underclothes, but now it seemed to entice him as his body felt like it was on fire. He noticed your hands on his shirt as you tugged at the bottom of it, clearly not finding it fair that you were the only one half naked. He smirked at your gestures, so innocent and shy. He was using your shyness to mask his own, even if it was starting to fade.

He easily pulled the shirt off his body and tossed it over the side of the couch before latching his lips back onto yours, already feeling the taste of you fading; the one thing he wouldn’t let happen for a long time.

You felt him move his hands around your chest as he slipping a hand under your bra, his hands surprisingly cold as he pushed it into your breast. He managed to push it up to where you pulled it off your body and lost if on the floor with the rest of your clothes as he finally nuzzled his hands between your breasts.

“Never hide from me, not this beautiful body of yours.” He turned his head to lick around a breast and moved up to your nipple. “Understand?” You nodded as you brought your hands up by your mouth, unconsciously muffling your uncontrolled moans. “Ah ah ah, babygirl. Don’t do that.” He took your hands from your mouth and brought one hand with his down to your center. “Let me teach you how to pleasure yourself darling.”

He kept your hand pushed against your clothed core, feeling the slight dampness of your boxers on your palm and wanting to push your hand against it harder and move it to release a pressure. Hoseok kissed his way down your stomach before letting your hands go and slowly prying your boxers down and finally off you.

He took your hand and moved it when he saw you start to moving it around your core. He pinned it to your side as he watched your whine before he put his own hand in your place. You bucked up at the sudden touch of his as he moved antangizingly slow circles around your clit and kissed around your thighs.

You let a surprised gasp leave you as you felt one of his finger push into you. It was a foreign feeling, stinging just slightly but soon was over as the pleasure started to hit you. You wanted to push against his finger as it moved, your hands gripping at the pillow behind your head.

Hoseok enjoyed seeing you writhe beneath him, but he also knew that he had to keep it gentle, so he kept only one finger inside you before he pulled it out and left you breathless for a moment before your attention was on his as he removed everything from his waist down. You felt the flush burn at your already hot cheeks again at the sight of him, bare and hovering over you now. He pushed his forehead against yours as he massaged your thighs, hiking them up his legs, making you want to roll your head back.

“Are you sure you want to keep going, I can stop here.” You shook your head.

“No, I want to. Please?” He groaned at your pleas and gave you a warning before he slid his cock against your folds and then slowly started to push into you. He gasped more than once as he pushed his head against your neck and let out harsh breaths. He listened to your winces and breaths of pain as he stretched you in ways you didn’t think possible and had never experienced. Part of him felt bad for making your eyes tear up and your chest heave in pain, but the other was so over taken with the tightness and warmth of your virgin sex that his mind was reeling. He managed to eventually push himself into you and settle there as the sounds of both of your heavy breaths mixed, pleasure in his and pain still in yours.

“I’m sorry- ah fuck- just tell me when… when I can-” He sucked in his breath through his teeth as he kept his sanity enough to just start fucking you senseless. He knew this was hard for you, a big step and he wouldn’t let something like his uncontrollable instincts ruin this for you. He would make sure you enjoyed it just as much as he did.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed still for, time had literally become just a construct of nothing to him. He felt your hand on his forearm before you whimpered to him.

“You can… I think you can move now.” He gulped at the sound of your voice, pitched higher and soon letting out a mewl when you felt him ever so slowly pull out of you just to push back in. He wasn’t going to let himself be rough with you, and only kept his thrusts shallow and at a pace set to pleasure him and make sure you knew he wouldn’t let it hurt too much. Of course, even you got impatient.

It wasn’t long before the pain was past and the shallowness of his actions didn’t work for you anymore. You moved to grab his head and tug at his hair, letting him growl and unconsciously move his hips faster to hit against yours, making your moan louder.

“Faster, please…” He was deaf to any other sound other than you, so your small whisper was like a blow horn echoing in his brain as he immediately did as you asked. With each tug of his hair, he growled deeper and moved quicker. It was a way for you to tell him without words that you needed, wanted more.

You started to feel a burning in the pit of your stomach as he managed to his something in your that made you scream as you tugged his head to your neck and he latched his mouth onto it, knowing where to hit and help you reach that feeling he knew you had in your stomach. He felt you start to clenching around him as he grunted and groaned against your neck, your hands firmly attached to his scalp.

“H-Hoseok, I- I think I’m-” He nodded against your neck, running his tongue along your protruding veins.

“I know sweetheart, I know. Just let it go, cum whenever you want to.” You lifted your hips to meet his last few thrusts as you pushed your head back against the pillow behind you. Hoseok let out his own low moan as he felt you around him so deliciously and it wasn’t long before he was pulling out of you and pumping himself to the point he came onto your stomach.

The room was hot.

The two of you covered in sweat as Hoseok pushed himself to sit up and on the other side of the couch at your feet. He saw your heaving figure and pushed your legs back together as the two of your only breathed in heavy harmony.

“Hoseok…” You pushed out when your breath and voice didn’t betray you. He moved to look at you as you stared at the ceiling.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. So much.” He chuckled at you. He crawled over you to hover you and place a small kiss on your cheek.

“I told you there was nothing to be afraid of. Not with me at least.” You chuckled at him as he kissed your other cheek, then your nose and forehead to finally kiss your lips sweetly. “You might be sore for a while though, so I think I’ll stay the night.”

“You have work tomorrow?” He moved off the couch and found his pants and boxers, pulling them on. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a small hand towel to clean off your stomach and then had you pull his shirt over your chest and even fetched you a new pair of boxers.

“So? I’ll tell them that I’ll meet them at the studio tomorrow, and I’ll just take your car. You’ll want to call in tomorrow anyways, you probably won’t want to move around that much.” He chuckled to himself as he sat on the couch with you and grabbed the remote from the table.

He grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped you in it as he pulled you to lean against his chest, knowing that you were well more than tired and probably just wanted to sleep.

“Take a nap. I’ll wake you up in a bit when you need to eat, I hope you still have ramyeon here though.” You giggled at him.

“Of course I do. I always have it stocked.” He nodded as he turned on some random show as you moved to look at him. He seemed happier now, and honestly part of you thought you would regret this decision, but when you looked at Hoseok, all you saw was a happy future with him by your sides and 6 best friends with you. The guilt you expected wasn’t there at all, and you felt giddy even. You smiled to yourself as he caught you staring at him.

“What are you smiling about beautiful?” You rolled your eyes.

“Are you going to do this again? Maybe when you come back from Japan?” He rose his brow before he smiled endearingly at you.

“Of course my dear, and trust me, it will be even better. It only gets better from here.”

#monsta x #monsta x smut #monsta x scenario #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x drabble #monsta x imagine #shin hoseok #monsta x wonho #wonho #smut #fluff #mx

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whytheracecardisplayed · 5 years

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It's a night out with my friends. Me and a few buddies had gathered. We weren't going anywhere particular. The plan was to drink and roll around town and do some damage. A bunch of 19, 20 years old. I had just gotten out of jail a few weeks before. And was still getting my 'street legs' back. The excitement of freedom had worn off. And now I was back to survival. Somehow, we ended up over this chicks house. One of my friends knew her. And knew that she was cool enough to let a bunch of hooligans chill in her house. The bitch was fine. White bitch. Big titties. She was in the middle of getting dressed for a night out herself when we arrived. I remember the little black dress she wore. Her bending over to put on here heels. And the view from there. She had a kid. A little boy. The babysitter was already there. White chick. She was cool. Sitting in the living room chopping it up and laughing with us. She was decent looking. But nothing special about her. Shortly after the big tittie white bitch left for the club, me and my entourage bounced. us guys left together. I don't remember why or were to. But soon after I got separated from the pack. I had run into someone I knew and started drinking with him, and by the time I'd left him I had lost track of the others. Since we hadn't settle on one particular place to chill, I knew those guys could be anywhere. The only place I knew to look was back at the white chicks crib. It wasn't that far. So I walk back. I'm drunk from the liquor my friend and I shared. Not stumble drunk. But feeling like I could take on a bear drunk. I reach the apartment and no one was home. I was surprised to find out that the back door was unlocked, so I let myself in. The alcohol had me hungry. So I raid the fridge. But the only thing in there edible was a few eggs. I decided to boil them. While I wait for the eggs to get done I sat on the living room and watched some TV. A few moments later I heard the back door open, then a females voice. I didn't hear all of what she said. But I do remember her saying something about the eggs on the stove. Now I hear male voices. Two of them. I stayed seated on the couch. I figured why get up? They'll see me eventually once they'd made their way into the living room. The first was one of the males. G.O.. I knew him. We didn't hang out together, but we hung out with a lot of the same people. I expected him to say 'Oh it's just you'. Or something along those lines. But instead, he angrily ask, 'WTF you doin here'? then called the other male into the room. I knew this kid too. But by face only. A whiteboy. I had seen him from time to time and knew that him and G.O. were real cool. When the whiteboy enters the living room and sees me, he asked the same question in the same tone as G.O. had done. I became angry. I stood up and said. dude, I was just looking for the crew and thought they came back here. 'How'd the fuck you get in?' The whiteboy asked. This made me even angrier. Not just his tone but for the fact that I knew he was just showing off for G.O. and the bitch. Which by this time I'd lost track of where she was. I got in the same way you did. I answered him. By the back door. 'How did you know that shit was unlocked'? G.O. demanded. While he said these things he balled his fists and started walking around a circle like he was holding back aggression. That was it for me. No more questions. No more answers. I pointed a finger at him then said, Nigga I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you better chill the fuck out cause you pissing me off! O.G.s aggressiveness surprised me. Like I said. We knew each other. And never had problems getting along. So for him to act this way, through me off. So I surmised that he too was just showing off in front of his friend and the bitch. But at my expense. I took a step a step forward and said, I aint playin wit you G.O.. Calm that yelling and cussing at me the fuck out!. G.O. quickly pulls up his pants. Then throws both fists up and into a fighting stance. This surprised me even more. But the fact that I was drunk calmed my nerves. Remember. I could take on a bear. So I knew G.O. wouldn't be much of a challenge. And he wasn't. Before that insulate faggot could swing, I had already yoked him up and was pushing him backward. We both landed at the base of the stairs. With me on top and with G.O. struggling at the bottom. Now I go to work. I grab his shirt with my left and began to punch him in the face with my right. A couple of blows only grazed him because of his frantic head movements. But most found their mark. Just then. I felt a powerful blow on the back of my head. Then another, then another. I had no idea someone could hit that hard. I knew It was the whiteboy but I couldn't do anything about it. Someone had told me that while getting jumped, don't try and fight everyone. Just focus on one mother fucker. But after a couple more of those sledge hammer blows, I couldn't take it anymore. I released G.O. and stood up. Now face to face with the whiteboy. I could feel that most of my energy was gone. I was expecting the whiteboy to continue swinging, but instead he said 'GTFOH'! I did not protest. And without even looking back at G.O. I turned then opened the front door. Walking out I was afraid. I was expecting one of them to knock me in the back of the head as a parting shot. But it didn't happen. Now outside I didn't know where to go. Or what to do. I just walked. Anger had overtaken me. And the only thing on my mind was revenge. I could think of nothing but the events and sequence that had just taken place. The balls on G.O.. The mistake that I'd made by letting that whiteboy boy get behind me. My head still throbbing from his blows. My body, aching and weary. I hear voices and car doors. I look up from my zombie walk to see that Im close to the local bar called Tags. In the parking lot I see my cousins gray Cadillac. My cousin Blast was a big time drug dealer in my hometown. Him and his two brothers had the streets envious of them for their money and cars. Blast is older than me and on a totally different social level. That made it to where could never hang out with each other. But he and my older sister were real cool. And he always spoke to me whenever he saw me and asked if I needed anything. O walk into Tags and see Blast sitting at the bar. I walk up to him. He turns and sees me and asks in a loud angry voice, 'WTF happened to you?! Who did this to you'? His concern for me made me feel good. But before I could speak he slid off his stool and told me to follow him to the restroom. 'To many ears out here'. he said. The restroom was small. Once inside he asked me again what happened? And again before I could speak he interrupted me by telling me to wash my face in the sink. When I splashed my face with the cold water and cupped my hands to my face I could feel the lumps and bruises that I couldn't feel before. Between cascades of water to my face I told my big cuz what had happened. It was hard to fight back my emotions. I didn't want to look weak or cry in front of him. When I finished telling Blast what happened he said. Stay right here. And he left the restroom. I grabbed some paper towel and started drying my face off. I dabbed at the bumps and scars and tried not to wipe too hard. By the time Id thrown the last wad of paper into the trash can, Blast opened the door and told me to 'Come on'. I followed him to the bar and took a seat on the stool next to his. Blast tried to order me a drink but the bartender refused to serve me one. I was only 19 at the time and wasn't even supposed to be in there. But I could tell that the bartender did feel the seriousness of the situation. So he didn't tell me to leave. My cousin ordered me a ginger ale instead and we sat silently. 10 minutes past and we never said another word to each other. He was calmly smoking cigarettes sipping a long neck. While I nursed the ginger ale and listened to the music in the bar. Out the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of headlights pull into the parking lot of Tags. Without looking at me, or knowing if Id even heard him my cousin says, 'Go get in that van that just pulled up out there'. I climbed in the passenger seat and look over to see a familiar face. It was Rico. He and I had gone to high school together. On the bus rides home we sat next to each other. Rico was a big fat black dude. It had been a few years since I'd seen him and nothing had changed about him. We caught up for a minute or so. Then he told me 'I heard what happened'. And the mood got serious. Before I said anything about it, Rico bent down and came up with a red handkerchief and began to unwrap it. When he handed me what was inside a sense of joy and excitement came over me. 'You know how to use one of these?' he asked. No. I said. Being from Kentucky I had shot long guns and different types of rifles but had never fired a handgun before. Rico began schooling me on how to work the gun. Showed me how to load it and how to cock the slide to load the bullet in the chamber. While he explaining this to me every few seconds or so he would pause to wipe the gun off with the red handkerchief. I didn't say anything about. I knew that he knew what was about to happen and did not want any of his prints on that gun. Lastly he said, 'Here's the safety. Here's the trigger. Now go do what you got to do.' He wipes the piece of one last time before I got out of the van. I placed the Roscoe in my back pocket and headed in the same direction from where I came. Back to the place where they jumped me. While walking, I start thinking about my plan of revenge. I'm quickly thinkin murder. I'm like yo I gotta put the murder game down. Cause a small town. I knew that news like this travels quick. I have the reputation of getting busy. G.O. and the whiteboy were not street dudes like me. They didn't break the law. They didn't fight for sport. And nobody knew who the fuck they were. Myself on the other hand had a reputation to keep. People knew me as J-roc. Tippy Lewis's son. My father was a legendary tough guy in this town. And for a long time after he was killed, I felt that I had to live up to his reputation. That's why I couldn't let this one slide. These. Compared to myself, these guys were unknowns, nobody's. When people found out what had happened they would be somebody's. Owensboro's a small town. So I knew that word would spread quickly about the fight. I knew that the only way to stop the grape vine, is to change the ending in my favor. Jumping a guy like me was big time braggin rights. Not necessarily because of the outcome. But because they actually had the nuts to do it to me, J-roc, Tippy Lewis's son. They were about to find out why I had the rep that I did. And they were about to realize, that when it come to this street shit, there is a big difference between them, and me. And a big difference between us in how far I am willing to go to in order to protect it. But about a quarter of the way there I realized that I had no idea how I was gonna do it. All these ideas started swirling around in my head. Mostly they were scenes from movies that I knew wouldn't work in this particular situation. But then can a moment of clarity. I don't need all that complicated shit. Just cover the peephole and knock on the door like I was an old friend coming by for a visit. And if they asked who it was, just say the name of someone me and G.O. both knew. For some reason I imagined that once the front door opened both G.O. and whiteboy would be standing there together. Still alert from the fight just to back each other up. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Because the plan I had settled on was to shoot them both once in the chest. But it didn't really matter. Because as soon as anyone of them opened the door, they were for sure gonna get it. I'm halfway there. At the risk of being over dramatic it had started to drizzle a little. I can remember the fluorescent light of the street lights spread out along the road. The moment and I were calm. My walk is a steady pace. Not too fast. Not too slow. But steady. I can feel the weight and density of that four pounder tugging my back pocket down. It's been almost an hour since the fight. So I had time to relax. To think. My buzz is nearly gone. And I'm cold. It's late April here in Owensboro. Around 10,10:30 at night. What's worse I had left my jacket in that chicks house. I wore only a t-shirt. I get to the projects where she lives. I shit you not it has a white picket fence. The housing authority had recently renovated the area. Every apartment got a backyard patio and a nice white picket fence. It was like putting pearls on a pig. I get through the gate and pull out the 3.80 as I approach the door. I stand sideways with the piece aimed down to the ground. Then just as I planned gave a regular knock on the door. I wait a few ticks. Nothing. I knock again and wait. Same. This time I knock a little harder. Nada. I know they're still there. The shades are closed. But I can still see the living room light on through the window. I walk to the rear of the house and climb the few patio stairs. The thing was made of cheat material that made a thud with every step I took. But I didn't care. I just wanted my revenge. After knocking on the back door several times, I make my way back to the front lawn. This is getting ridiculous I say to myself. My patience is wearing thin. And I know that I can't stand out here for much longer. Holding a gun in my hand in the middle of the projects. But I wasn't going anywhere. Now. After assessing the situation. Not only has my patience ran out completely, I am enraged to see that the living room light just on, now out. Id had enough. I walked back to the door and started banging, screaming and threatening like I was a cop. I did that in order to increase my chance to dictate the ending of the matter. That in the end, who is superior, who is scared, who is hiding. I said these things through the door. Knowing all of them no me. My brain fought through my rage and logic reappears. WFT am I doing? standing here, in the fuckin projects, bangin on this bitch door at damn near 11:30 at night, holdin a 380 fully loaded, cocked and ready to fire. Plus these cowards could be in there calling or could have already called the cops. Especially the babysitting chick. You got to do something now bro! But what?! These niggas is not coming out. What else. can I do. I got it! Just shoot through the door and the windows. If I'm lucky, I'll at least hit one of those cowards. I raised to the up to the project door. I knew the were made of metal. But a weak hollow metal. Any caliber this close can get through. But then I remember the kid the chick was babysitting. I had a look at him before. he was about 7,8 years old. Nice looking boy. Shooting into the house was now out of the question. I had no idea where the lid was in the house. And couldn't live with myself if he got hit by mistake. I’m thinkin, thinkin, thinkin, with the gun in my. had in the bitches yard with my plan going all to shit, with not many options. But then out of the corner of my eye. I see the white boys car parked several yards ahead of the house. I walk to the rear of the whip. I point my gun at the rear view window and fire. It sounded like an M80 had gone off. And I felt a bunch of glass fly off my hands and wrist. I fire again. But nothin. The thing jams. I go through the motions Rico showed me. Slide the clip out, checked the bullets, popped that bitch back in with some authority, then cocked that slide back to put the bullet in its chamber. I lift up the bitch again to the rear window. Which is now heavily cracked with a small hole in the center. I let loose and squeeze the trigger to let the automatic feature do its job. All this lasted a lil over a minute. I was able to knock off 4 more rounds through the white boys back window until the gun jams again. But this time I don't fix it like Rico had shown me. I knew it was time to go. I had been banging on the door, yelling, threatening and blasting this white boys car for almost 20 minutes. I gave one last look back at the house. The living room lights were still off and not a sound came from the house. I felt...satisfied, disappointed, I felt fortunate for them for not opening that door. But instead, hide like the cowards they are in order to saved their lives. I felt vindicated, restored. When and if they tell the story of jumping Tippy's son. They will have to include the aftermath of their insolent, foolish decision. I also felt that my father would've been proud. The next few weeks were like a victory lap. Everybody and they momma had found out what happened just as I expected. My best friend had talked to G.O. after it happened and told me what he had said. They were indeed in the house saw me, and did not want to come out. He also cot the account of the damage of the whiteboys car. Air conditioning, radio, bullet hole in the glove department, an not to mention a totaled the back windshield. Over the next few weeks the story spread like wildfire. Some of them were exaggerated like most gossip. But the man point was G.O. and the whiteboy were lucky to be alive. I started getting visits from people. Individuals who hung out with my cousin blast. Shooters. Cats that had body's on their records. People who'd never spoken to me before or knew who the hell I was, now gave me head nods of acknowledgment. Even my sons mother found out about it. And a smart ass way showed some type of renewed respect. The girls around town spoke to me the most about it. They loved that type of gangster ish. As for my homeboys, they were proud to hangout with me and show me off. That shit was cool. As for me, I felt like I'd failed at my mission. So whenever I received any accolades for the work I'd put in. I played it cool. Not saying much, And made it a point to say as little about the encounter as possible. and absolutely made sure not to brag. I never saw that whiteboy after that. But I did see G.O. like six months later during the summer. I was in another projects playing catch with a couple of youngins that I knew. One of them threw a pass over my head. And I had to run a few yards to retrieve it. I bend down to pic up the football. And when I look up 8 see G.O. sitting on top of one of those project backyard project patios. When he turned around, I stood told with the ball in my and looked him straight in the eyes. He was kicking his feet back and for against the patio walls. We eyed one another for only a moment. He broke eye contact. Then turned back around without saying a word. I said as well. No words were necessary. It was established who was the real gangster, the real shoot, who not to be fucked with. Me. I lingered in the moment for a while. Tossing the football back and forth in my hands. Still looking at him. Waiting to see if he would turn back around. But he didn't. So I walked off and continued playing catch with my youngins. FOR FULL STORY CLINK LINK IN DESCRIPTION #follow #love #instagood #cute #beautiful #lol #instagram #art #fan #photooftheday #memes #funny #chlogang #hair #sweet #tbt #boys #happy #instadaily #comment #likes #swag #follow4follow #india #legend #girl #chlogan #loganpaulvlogs #vine #fun https://www.instagram.com/p/ByORbJOJnue/?igshid=e739mgw1x1yj

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looselucy · 7 years

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MA / 4615 words

A series of one-shots - Read the first here

Childhood friends - NYE 2016

Part One

One morning, late July, I had woken to see that Harry Styles was slumbering beside me. He had looked beautiful, with his newly cut hair tousled and falling over his face, his breathing slow and pushing through his parted lips. The silent sun was overflowing into my room through my sheer curtains, giving an ethereal glow that made love to his soft features, gliding down his jaw and curving over his lips. He looked stunning. On New Year’s Eve, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.

He’d left me with a final, chaste kiss and a dopey smile on his face, and we’d fallen back into old habits, where we didn’t talk or text or even really acknowledge one another at all. Things went back to normal, and I continued with my life like nothing had ever happened. He just started crossing my mind more. Despite our childhood together, and his great fame, Harry Styles never used to cross my mind that often. Whenever I saw the Daily Mail talking shit about him or heard one of their songs, I had wondered how he was doing, but it was never much more than that. After spending a night with him, he crossed my mind so much more. I’d find myself thinking of his lips daily, or his hands, or his voice. He began crossing my mind more than any other person in my life did. In all honesty, it was slightly infuriating. And on New Year’s Eve, it just got worse. He’d made me promise that I would leave Swanage and make an appearance in Holmes Chapel to enter the New Year, and he’d promised too. I should have been seeing him that night, but I also knew that it was likely that he’d left for London or LA to continue with his interesting, extravagant life. I’d heard he was around, but I’d seen no evidence myself. I kept unlocking and locking my phone again, laying on top of the single bed in the room where I had grown up, surrounded by shoddy drawings and teddies and a poster or five of Westlife, debating whether I should text him or not. Then my phone lit up in my hand. Haz: Little Lulu Lamb? “No fucking way.” I gasped, bolting upright. “No. Fucking. Way.” My heart fluttered at the thought that maybe Harry had been doing the same thing, sat with his phone in his hand and fighting the thoughts of texting me or not. My stomach was in tatters. Lulu: Who’s this? Changed my number in the hope of getting that Harry Styles lad off my back. Haz: Don’t blame you. Real twat that lad. I felt sick. It was almost frustrating the feelings he could force on me in just a few words. It was something I was totally unfamiliar with. I wondered how he felt when he thought of me. Lulu: He really is. Ugly too. Haz: That just hurts. (You’ve been hunt down, by the way. It’s me. Harry.) Lulu: What an unfortunate turn of events. Haz: I was just wondering if you’ve kept your promise? Lulu: I was wondering the same thing about you. I don’t know why I was so eager for him to still be around. I didn’t know how things would be between us, other than bloody awkward. What had happened that night was totally sporadic and spontaneous, and he probably regretted it as soon as it ended. I can’t say I was expecting a repeat, but I still wanted to see him. I wanted to be around him, to know how things would be between us. I just wanted to see him. Haz: I’m around. Supposed to be going to a house party. Lulu: Me too, I’m going with my mum round to her friend Carols. I think it’s going to be relatively tame. Haz: That’s where I’m going. Lulu: What? Seriously? Haz: She’s my auntie. So I’ll see you there. Lulu: I hate coming from such a small place. There’s no avoiding you, is there? It sometimes felt like joking with him and faking was the only way I could actually interact with him without just gushing and fanning myself constantly. I was grateful we’d be drinking again, because when he’d entered my home, I’d barely been able to function around him until we opened the first bottle of wine. He was captivating, in the type of way that eased me and put me on edge at the same time, like somehow he was both the calm and the storm. Haz: You’re stuck with me now, Little Lulu Lamb. Sorry. Lulu: I suppose I’ll see you tonight then. Haz: I suppose you will.

Part Two

I swear, his eyes lit up as soon as he saw me. He was stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching a woman with fascination in his eyes as she spoke about something or nothing, and I watched as his head lifted, almost like he’d been checking the doorway and just waiting for me to arrive. His teeth showed almost instantly, his dimples digging into his cheeks, and the colour of my own cheeks may as well have dyed the entire room pink. I was pretty much glued to my spot as I watched him politely bid his farewells and remove himself from the conversation, changing his wide grin to a tight smirk. He was dressed head to toe in black; a simple black shirt, black skinny jeans, and some heeled boots that gave him an extra boost of height that he didn’t necessarily need. “We meet again.” He smirked. “We do.” There was such a palpable shake in my voice, and I was ten times more nervous than I had been when he appeared at my front door in July. I raised my drink to my lips immediately, hoping it would play its role quickly. “You look amazing.” He commented. Of course, I then choked on my drink, quickly diminishing his compliment as red wine jammed down my throat and splattered into my face, rapidly whipping the glass away from my face and grimacing profusely. He was calm and chuckling as he hit my back a few time, staring down to me with an endeared grin as I attempted to find some control, wiping the wine off my face and despising myself. “For fuck sake, Haz.” “What?” “Don’t compliment me!” I demanded. “Why?” “Because it makes me… weird. You make me weird.” “Well, I’m sorry.” He held up both hands in surrender. “I didn’t realise I had that effect on you.” “I actually think you’re well aware of the effect you have on me, and you love it, and that’s why you do it.” He shrugged, a cocky look on his face as he tried to act nonchalant about the fact that I knew his damn game and it was entirely successful. He reached his hand to my face, gently rubbing his thumb to predictably get rid of a little splatter of wine that I hadn’t caught, eyes low. “Told you before… I like the colour you go when you blush.” He shrugged. “Looks good on you.” I slapped his hand away, scowling playfully at him and wondering where our night would take us. I attempted to drink my wine again, successful the second time around, hating that he held himself so close to me and looked down at me like that. He was insistent on making me weak and it fuelled him to see me struggling. “Where’s your drink?” I asked him. “Don’t have one.” “Don’t tell me you’re not drinking.” I groaned. “It’s barely fucking eight o’clock! I’m taking it steady, give me a chance.” He fought. I shook my head at him, my wine glass pressed against my bottom lip and disappointment in my eyes, and I stayed that way until he cracked, rolling his eyes and grabbing my hand and dragging me through to the dining room. We barely had a foot through the door when I heard an almighty squeal. My mother came bounding over to us with her arms already outstretched, just waiting to grab at Harry’s cheeks, which she did as soon as she reached him, pinching them and squishing them, but I swear Harry looked so damn happy. “You get taller every time I see you!” She squealed. “It’s the boots!” I butt in. “Don’t expose me!” He cried. “Nice to see you again, Susan.” I filtered out of their chat pretty quickly, my mum dragging on about how proud she and the whole village were of him, and about how she could still remember the first time I brought him around to our house and he’d called her Miss Lambert all night, no matter how many times she insisted that he call her Susan. I completely zoned out, and I just looked at him. I watched the way he interacted with her, his eyes full of kindness and his cheeks still a little pink from where she had grabbed them. I’d never been the type of person who could be casual with people. Maybe an all of nothing type of person. Harry was the first person that I’d spent one night with, had casual sex with, but I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think I’d see much of him. I thought maybe we’d go years without seeing each other again. I could be casual with Harry because I had to be casual with Harry. Watching him interact with my mother, recalling the childhood we’d spent together, I felt the fucking opposite of casual.

Part Three

“Can I kiss you? At midnight?” Harry asked me. “I… I… What?” I mumbled. “Well we’ve done it before, might as well do it again.” He shrugged. We’d been glued at the hip all night, probably annoyingly so. We caught up with one another’s families, old friends, Harry had taken some pictures with people he didn’t know as well, and finally started drinking at some point, but we’d barely spent five minutes apart. We’d laughed and joked and talked and I’d eased with each passing second. It was almost like he got bored of my irregular calmness, and wanted to ruin it again. “You want to kiss me?” “Or I could go and find James Turner for you. I’m sure he’d love to make that rumour a reality.” I smacked his arm playfully, knowing that we were only a few minutes away from the countdown, meaning we were only a few minutes away from the kiss he was suggesting. I looked anywhere but into his eyes, glancing out to the room around us. “You don’t want to kiss me.” I shook my head. “Don’t I?” “It takes one person in this party who’s a fucking prick, to take a photo of us kissing and sell it on. Then even fucking Holmes Chapel is tainted for you. I’d hate that.” He moved so he could infiltrate my vision, standing dead ahead of me and making sure that I couldn’t avoid his gaze. I looked up to him hesitantly, seeing the strange look his face, like he was confused or contemplative. His brows were knitted tightly together, his lips almost pouted, slowly emitting a heavy sigh. “Little Lulu Lamb, I’ve actually never wanted to kiss you more than I do right now.” “Wh-what?” “That trust that I spoke about with you… back in July. It’s just… I dunno.” He dropped his head. “I’m just glad I was right. It’s nice to have someone I know I can trust. Weird, but nice.” People were beginning to flock towards the living room, pushing past us as we stared at one another, kind of ignoring the bustle around us as people prepared to group together and enter 2017. Once again, I thought about how much of an honour it was to possess his trust, and how I’d do anything to keep it. I wasn’t sure why he felt that way with me, but maybe there was just something between us, something we didn’t even really need to speak about, something I didn’t really need to prove or voice, but more just something he could feel. “I’m glad you trust me.” I choked, eventually. “So… No kiss?” “Unfortunately not.” He smiled, then ticked his head towards the crowd. “C’mon, lets join the troops.” We made our way to the crowd, Harry halting me at the back of the group by pinching his fingers at my waist, stood just behind me and pulling my body back into his. I could just about see the footage of London on the TV through the crowd, but when it reached the sixty second countdown, Harry began to snake his arms around my waist, balancing his chin on the top of my head, and I was sure things around me genuinely started to blur. He was holding me like we’d been that way together a million times, like our bodies just fit together naturally. It was such a simple way for our bodies to link, and yet it still made me feel woozy. I lolled my head back just slightly, flopping it against his chest and closing my eyes, his hands on my stomach making me feel sick, in the best, most confusing way imaginable. I joined in for the ten second countdown, trying to cloak the fact that I was near bloody breathless, and aching as his arms tightened even more, and he lowered his head so it was hovered over my shoulder, the two of us cheek to cheek. It took all my might not to turn my head and kiss him as soon as it struck midnight. My stomach jolted even more, watching the entire room erupt into happy celebrations, people hugging and kissing and sharing in the moment. Harry moved his lips to my ear, and his hot breath warped over my skin, goose-bumps working their way over my entire body. “Do you want to know what I’d been doing to you if we were alone?” He spoke, quiet enough to only reach my ears. “Harry-” I gasped, closing my eyes. “I’d have my lips on yours, my hand up your dress, my fingers feeling how wet you are for me. Because you are, aren’t you?” “Yes.” I whispered shakily. “Feel how hard I am for you.” He lowered one hand, pushing at the bottom of my stomach so my hips moved backwards, my arse pressing to his groin, feeling his dick pressed hard within the fabric, straining the material and pushing against me. My breath caught in my throat, pushing back even more without even meaning to, feeling the way his dick felt against me, and how that made me feel in return. “If we were on our own right now, I would be fucking you. Hard.” He continued. “You’re all I’ve thought about for months. I want to see you weak again. I want to see you on your knees.” I almost started whimpering, trying to be aware of our surroundings but just wishing we were on our own somewhere, back in my flat in fucking Swanage so that he could be doing everything he wanted to. He was thriving off the fact that he could say all this in a room full of people without being heard, where he could push me to my limit and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. The room was beginning to calm down once more, so he took his final opportunity, gently latching his teeth on my earlobe, tugging harshly before completely detaching from me, leaving my stumbling back, my legs shaking. He came around and stood ahead of me as the room began to disperse, grabbing the bottle of beer from my trembling hand and taking a smug sip. “You’re going to kill me.” I managed to splutter. “Me?” He faked. “I didn’t do anything! I just wished you a Happy New Year!” “I hate you.” “I don’t believe that for a second.” He passed me my beer back over, holding it out low for me so that when I went to reach back for it, I had to look down, see the bulge in his jeans. His moves always seemed to be so calculated, so thought out, it made my head spin. That thought, and the sight, of course. I whipped my head back up to see his face, the way he lifted his brows, and smirked once more. “Am I that transparent?” I shuddered. “I can read you like a fucking book, Lamb.” I shook my head, forcing down a smile and hoping my cheeks weren’t once again turning into that colour he loved so much. “If I’m a lamb, you’re definitely a lion.” My words made him grin, sending the smile out towards the rest of the room momentarily before looking back to me, wetting his full lips, and once again leaving me breathless.

Part Four

“Can you believe we used to do this every day?” He tittered. He was walking me home, just like he used to do after school, when we’d wander down these same streets together, being just as mean to each other as we were then, pushing and poking fun. I would have never thought that we’d be doing the same thing so many years later, especially after everything that had changed. “It’s weird to think… Ten years ago, we were doing this same thing. Except, not drunk.” I giggled. “Fuck… That is weird! We’ve known each other for far too long. I should be bored of you by now.” “Bored of me? Do you get bored of people?” “Some.” He shrugged. “I think it’s one of the worst things about me. But… I don’t really have a middle ground. The ones who stick… they’re there forever, y’know?” “So when do you think you’ll get bored of me?” I asked, my heels clasped between my fingers and my bare feet slapping on the concrete. “I’m not sure I will, that’s the thing.” I shook off his words instantly with a shake of my head, because before that night and before July, we’d gone years without talking to each other. I didn’t think it was out of boredom, but more that the two of us could just naturally fall apart, and then fall back together. I wasn’t the type to stick. We were pretty quiet as we finally reached my home, the two of us looking up to the building I had grown up in, Harry digging his hands into his pockets. “So,” He swallowed. “Are we saying goodnight now? Or… is there still some of the night left?” “My room is bright pink and I have a single bed. I also have five Westlife posters.” “Fan of boybands?” He sneered. “Only Westlife. The rest are shit.” “Fuck you.” “So… I would love to, but… I also think that I would be so fucking embarrassed that I couldn’t fully enjoy myself.” I sighed honestly. “So…” “Lulu, please tell me you know that people often fuck in places other than bedrooms.” “What?” I gasped dramatically. “I had no idea!” He rolled his eyes at my sarcasm, running his tongue over the top row of his teeth, hiding a smile. He took a steady step towards me, eyes alight. “How many rooms does this house have that aren’t pink, and don’t have any Westlife posters?” “Uh… more so than do.” I quaked. “Then… maybe we could use one of those?” “And if my mum walks in?” I raised my brows. “Well… let’s hope she doesn’t grab my cheeks this time.” I let out a breathy laugh down to the floor, wishing I had some more gumption and an ability to say no to him, but I didn’t. I would have loved to be able to leave him hanging, wanting me and thinking of me, teasing him in the way he had done me all damn night, but I couldn’t. “Fine.” I sighed, defeated. “Come on then.” I got to see his satisfied smile grow before I turned on my heel, walking down the driveway and through the front door, locking up once he was finally indoors with me. “It looks exactly the same.” He sniggered. “Susan Lambert doesn’t like change so much.” I told him. “Do you want a drink?” “Yeah.” My mother was still at the party, thankfully, meaning the two of us didn’t need to whisper or hush our experience, and meaning that we had the house to ourselves, hopefully for as long as we’d need it. I walked into the kitchen, Harry on my heel as I approached the fridge, grabbing us both a bottle of beer before moving to the counter, reaching for the bottle opener in the hope of cracking our beers open, but my efforts fell flat. Harry appeared behind me, pushing my body with his so my hips crashing with a thud against the kitchen counter, his hands automatically moving to lift my dress, gathering it around my stomach as his lips worked down my neck, pushing himself against my bum. “I can’t explain how badly I want you.” He mumbled to my skin. “I can’t explain what you do to me.” He grunted against my neck, licking and biting sweetly at my skin, completely trapped between his tense body and the counter, moaning alongside his harsh touches, the bottle of beer falling from my hand and crashing onto the worktop. His fingers hooked through either side of my lace knickers, my neck snapping back. “Rip them off.” I gasped. “Harry, rip them, please.” The sound of the material snapping almost made me scream, Harry cursing harshly in my ear as he scrambled to undo his zipper, gasping and rushing through the process until I felt his hand push down at the top of my back, my body almost horizontal on the counter as he hitched my dress up one last time, and forced himself into me. “Fuck!” He gasped his relief. “Holy fuck.” He reached to lace his fingers through my hair before he began pushing, removing himself right to the tip before he’d thrust back into me, his grip on my hair hostile and beautiful. Pleasure worked its way through my body, biting my bottom lip and trying not to scream, my hipbones hurting as they crashed into the counter over and over again, likely to be leaving bruises but I didn’t even care. He felt amazing, fucking into me like that with no caution, no calmness. He fucked me like he was desperate, lost within the different man he became when it came to sex, the harsh contrast of the soft boy with the beaming smile to someone else, someone who would grip my hair and bend me over and fuck me in the way he did. I’d never known anything like it. He pulled at my hair, starting to drag me so that I was upright. I followed his lead, turning my head as he forced his lips onto mine, grunting fiercely to me, his hands moving to grab my waist. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” His rough love spurred my honesty. “Do you touch yourself, when you think of me?” “Yes.” “Show me.” I screamed as he turned my body around, picked me up by my waist and placed me onto the counter, spreading my legs for me as I lifted my dress to show him my wet heat, reaching down to myself as he took a step back so he could watch me clearly, the moonlight beating in through the window as he took hold of himself, licking his lips and pumping his hand. I closed my eyes and lost my senses, rubbing over myself with speed, my body jolting and my moans feeble, before hesitantly opening my eyes again, watching his quick movements as we pleasured ourselves in front of one another, his teeth trapping his bottom lip and his brows low. I fell silent as I pushed myself to finish, my whole body sparking shakes in a thousand different areas, feeling faint and lost for a moment before he spoke. “Taste me.” He groaned, his head falling back and his mouth falling open. “Please just… fuck.” My legs couldn’t carry my weight as I dropped from the counter and back onto the floor, trembling as then fell to my knees in front of him, grabbing my left hand around his leg so I could keep myself upright whilst my other hand reached for his dick, replacing the same movements of his hands for a few moments before I widened my mouth and took as much of him as I could, near choking on the size of him. His fingers once again found their way into my hair as I moved around him, slacking my jaw and tracing my tongue over the perfect lines of him, the taste bitter but sweet, a new form of pleasure working through me. The sound of his moans inspired me to look up to him, seeing that he was already looking down at me, and when our eyes met like that, he finished, his warm pleasure exploding into my mouth, gluing against my tongue and my tonsils. I pulled away so that he fell from my mouth, swallowing the juices as Harry fell down to his knees, cursing to himself once he was on the floor with me, weak and tired. Both on our knees, we stayed that way for a while, trying to breathe steadily, and my eyes kept flitting back to him, noting how perfect he looked whilst coming down from his high, and with sweat glistening his perfect skin. I giggled to myself as I fell even more, sprawling myself over the kitchen floor, facing the ceiling with my hand laying on my chest, feeling the way it crashed against its cage. Harry soon joined me, the two of us smiling together, side my side, gazing up to nothing. We lay that way for a while before he spoke. “I like us together.” He was still struggling to catch his breath. “What?” “We work well together.” “Fuck. I… Yeah. I guess we do.” Another few minutes passed, the two of us silently calming, the cold tiles warming beneath us as they became accustom to our bodies. Harry then lifted himself, leaning his weight on one elbow so he could gaze down to me, his temples pulsing. “You should come and see me.” “What?” “I’m gunna be in London for a while now. You should… come and see me.” “I… I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” He chuckled. “That just… feels intense.” “As opposed to tonight, where we’ve been really casual.” He joked. I broke eye contact with him, rubbing my hand over my eyes and trying to wrap my head around what he was suggesting. “You know what I mean.” I huffed. He moved my hand, forcing me to look back into his eyes, and I bit back to the truth. I refused to tell him that I couldn’t just feel casually about him, or see him as a friend I fucked occasionally. Going to London to see him couldn’t have been a wise option. And yet, that charm he possessed made him particularly hard to say no to. “Come and see me.” He said again. “Please.” He smiled a little, lips stretching into a shape I had to admire, still so pink then even the dark room couldn’t cast a shadow upon them. I closed my eyes, letting out a soft giggle, still shaking my head but caving. “Okay.” I sighed. “I’ll come and see you.”

#TLATL2 #People seemed to like Lulu and Harry #I really like Lulu and Harry #would love some feedback if you enjoy this #thank youuuuuu #1dff #tlatl #The Lamb and The Lion #me #mine #writing #Harry Styles #one direction #Harry Styles one shot

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zblackiez · 6 years

Text

The Tale of Thomas

Dimness swarmed the colossal room, with the only source of illumination being the weak rays of light that shined through the cracks of the closed curtains. Seated at a table within this room was a teenage boy. His height was towering, and his limbs were thin. Complementing the brown of his eyes and his short, neat hair was his light skin.

He took hold of the menu that lay before him. On the front, printed in bulky, red letters, were the words, Crimson Coin. He scanned the menu's contents.

It was only shortly after that a dark-skinned boy who appeared the same age approached. He was dressed in a waiter's outfit.

"Hey, Thomas," the dark-skinned boy said.

"Hey, Reed," the light-skinned boy replied.

"Ready to order?"

The light-skinned boy, Thomas, did not answer but simply kept his somber expression.

"Another fight with your dad?" the dark-skinned boy asked.

Thomas shined a weak smile. "That easy to tell, huh?" Just then, a couple seated at a nearby table raised their hands. "Excuse me," the man said, "we're ready to order." The dark-skinned boy, Reed, looked to the couple, then back to Thomas. "Go for it," Thomas said. "It was my bad for dropping in like this." "It's not your bad," Reed assured. He reached into into his pocket and fished out a fortune cookie wrapped in plastic. He then handed it to Thomas. "Here, take this. Maybe it'll help you cheer up." "Thanks," Thomas said.

"I'll be back," Reed promised. He began to saunter towards the couple. As he did so, he turned around and said to Thomas, "You better eat that. It's comin' out of my paycheck."

Thomas chuckled weakly, his eyes fixed on the vanilla snack. Slowly, he freed it of its wrapping, broke the cookie in two, and set his focus on the tiny slip of paper. It read, "Your friends will soon give you a great surprise."

Thomas contemplated the message.

A surprise, huh? he thought. Maybe it'll be something I can use to not be a worthless piece of shit.

After several minutes had passed, Reed returned to the table and settled in the seat across from Thomas. In his hands was a small package.

"So," Reed said, "you wanna tell me what happened?"

"That depends," Thomas said. "Think you can handle it?"

"Thomas, we've been bros for thirteen years. We've told each other all the bullshit we've had to go through. Trust me, I can handle a little more feces in the shit sandwich."

Thomas hesitated for a moment.

"It's my dad," he admitted. "He kept hounding me about my major again. He said that I'm wasting my time with this art crap, and that I should go into business. Apparently, I'm shit at art, anyways."

"And you believe him?" Reed asked.

"A little," Thomas said softly.

Reed sighed. "You gotta start thinkin' for yourself, Thomas. It's your life, so you gotta live it your way."

"Easier said than done," Thomas said. "Kinda hard to pick a path where I don't suck complete ass."

"That's the problem with you: you keep thinkin' that there's something wrong with you-that you're the reason why some people don't like you. That ain't the case."

"You here to help me or make me feel worse?" Thomas growled.

"I'm here to help you see the truth," Reed said. He pushed the small package towards Thomas. "Here, take this."

Thomas picked up the package. "What's this?"

"Unwrap it and find out."

So Thomas did just that, and what he discovered was what looked like a journal.

"Again," he said, "what is this?"

"I read about it online," Reed said. He pointed to the notebook. "Every day, whenever you feel like crap, I want you to write something good about yourself. Anything you can think of."

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? You want me to write down my feelings?"

"I'm dead serious, Thomas," Reed said. "This low self-esteem of yours ain't gonna get you very far. You gotta fix it somehow. This is a solution that I found.

"You've gotta realize that there's nothing wrong with you."

Before Thomas could put forth his argument, Reed rose to his feet.

"Break's over," he said. "And you better write in that thing. Otherwise, I'm smackin' you with the receipt." With those final words, he departed from the table, leaving Thomas to his gift.

Thomas eyed the journal.

"I'm not that desperate," he decided.

With a cloudy mind, he left the restaurant, though he did bring the notebook with him.

* * *

Fatigue streamed through Thomas' mind as he sat in front of the desk of his dorm. Lying before him was a portrait of a rose, which he focused intensely on as he added details second-by- second. Beside his hand was a desklamp. It helped in diminishing a portion of the blackness that engulfed his room. Settled at the corner of his desk was Reed's gift-the notebook.

Thomas halted his motions, then leaned back to view his artwork as a whole.

This is taking a lot longer than I expected, he thought. And the stem looks a bit off. Maybe I can . . .

Just as Thomas was about to edit his piece, however, his cellphone rang.

He set his pencil down, then pulled out his phone from his pocket. Upon looking at the screen, he saw that the word "Dad" glowed at the top.

Reluctantly, he pressed the green "Answer" button and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello," Thomas said.

"Hey, Thomas," his father replied. His voice was gruff. "You got a minute?"

"It depends. You gonna tell me my dream's a piece of shit again?"

"Listen, I'm doing this for your own good. I've seen your works, and, honestly, they're crap."

Thomas could feel cracks surface within his heart.

"Most parents lie to their kids," his father continued, "but that ain't me. If it means saving you from failure, I'm gonna tell the truth."

Thomas could already feel his eyes begin to moisten.

"Is that all you called for?" he asked.

"Well, no, I called because-wait, what's wrong? Why do you sound like that?"

"Nothing," Thomas lied. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Jesus, Thomas," his father said, "are you seriously crying? You're twenty-one years old, so act like it! Be a man and accept the fact that you're complete shit at-"

End call.

As tears streamed down his cheeks, Thomas tossed his phone to the side and buried his face in his hands.

What's wrong with me? he wondered. Why can't I just make everyone proud? Why can't I do anything right?

It was as the cracks of his soul deepened that Thomas' eyes fell upon his new notebook. And surely enough, Reed's words began to echo through his mind.

"Every day, whenever you feel like crap, I want you to write something good about yourself," he had said. "Anything you can think of."

With hesitation streaming through his veins, Thomas pulled the journal closer to him, flipped it open, and took hold of his pencil. It took a good five minutes, but he was eventually able to write a message of four words: I'm good at breathing.

Of course, Thomas wasn't expecting to feel better after writing such a simple phrase, but he figured that anything was worth a shot; anything to help ease his vibrant pain.

This is so stupid, he thought.

Nonetheless, he kept at it, adding two more lines to his collection:

I'm good at walking and I'm good at seeing things.

Much to his surprise, Thomas chuckled a little.

This is so stupid, he thought again, this time with a small smile stretched across his face.

And so, as days passed, Thomas found himself writing more and more in the notebook. Gradually, he went from creating just one statement to creating multiple in one sitting.

I'm good at smelling things. I'm good at eating. I'm good at talking . . . to a point.

As Thomas struck his pencil against the paper, he could feel his mind loosen, as if the chains gripping it were slowly being unlocked. His vision, which consisted of mere black and gray, was slowly developing a sense of color.

One day, Thomas was in his dorm, along with Reed. The two of them were perched on Thomas' bed, playing Xbox.

"Ooh, get 'em, baby!" Reed said as he pinned every ounce of his focus on the TV screen. "You ain't seen none of this. You ain't seen none of this."

Before long, the words "YOU LOSE" emerged on the screen.

Thomas groaned and tossed his controller to the side, whereas Reed shot his hands into the air and cheered, "He wasn't ready~!"

"I'll get you next game," Thomas vowed.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Reed said. "By the way, you been writin' in that journal?"

"Of course not," Thomas said. "I told you I'm not into that."

Reed reached into his pocket and fished out a small receipt. "And I told you that I'd be whackin' this across your face if you didn't. That thing cost me ten bucks, man."

Thomas smiled. "I'm kidding, Reed. I actually have been writing stuff down in it."

"Yeah? How's that going? Is it working?"

"A little. I mean, I still feel like one of the most useless humans on this planet, but at least I'm not a good-for-nothing."

Reed perched his hand on Thomas' shoulder.

"It's all right, man. It'll get better."

Thomas' smile weakened, but remained. "Here's hoping."

Seeing the anguish in his friend's expression, Reed, once again, reached into his pocket, this time pulling out another fortune cookie wrapped in plastic. He dropped it in Thomas' lap.

"Here you go, man," Reed said. "All the way from Crimson Coin."

Thomas picked up the snack. "This one coming out of your paycheck, too?"

Reed rose to his feet. "You got like a sixth sense or something?"

Thomas chuckled.

"I'm gonna go get a drink," Reed said. "You want anything?"

"No," Thomas said, "I'm fine."

Reed nodded.

As he headed for the door, Thomas unwrapped the cookie and quickly broke it in two, heading straight for the fortune. He straightened the tiny slip of paper, then quietly read, "Others look up to you."

Are these cookies supposed to lie? Thomas wondered.

"Whoa!" he heard Reed cry.

Thomas looked up to witness a petite girl fall into his room through the now-open door.

"You all right?" Reed asked, offering her a hand.

The girl accepted the assistance, which allowed her to rise to her feet.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

Upon closer inspection, Thomas was able to recognize her as the girl who always glanced his way during art class. She was short, with light-tan skin and wavy, black hair. Shielding her neon-green eyes were black, rectangular glasses.

An awkward silence swiftly arose between the three, before Reed decided to break it.

"So," he said, "you need something?"

"Aren't you in my art class?" Thomas asked. "With Professor Wilhelm?"

"Y-Yeah," the girl replied. "I-I'm May." She would not meet Thomas' gaze.

"So," Reed repeated, "you need something?"

May slowly nodded her head, keeping her eyes to the floor.

Thomas and Reed waited patiently for her message.

"It's just . . ." she began. May took a deep breath, then briskly looked to Thomas. "Could you please tutor me?"

Thomas merely gawked. "Huh?"

"It's just that I've seen your art," May explained. "You're really good. Like, really good. I was wondering if, maybe, you could teach me how to draw that well? I'm not, exactly, Pablo Picasso."

"You think . . . You think I'm good?" Thomas asked, dumbfounded.

May beamed. "Yeah! You're one of the best in the class!"

"Seriously?"

"Why do you seem so surprised, Thomas?" Reed asked. "I told you your art was pretty damn awesome."

"I just thought . . ." Thomas began. His face quickly grew perplexed.

Silence, once again, swarmed the room.

Reed folded his arms. "So, you gonna help her? Or are you still not good enough?"

Thomas looked to his childhood friend, then to the girl whom he apparently inspired.

He smiled. "You know what? What the hell. Let's do it."

May clapped her hands together. "Yay!"

Reed simply grinned.

Thomas kept his warm expression. Maybe I'm not so bad, after all.

#short story #writing #original #Mr. No Word Good

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dagripster · 7 years

Text

Rose Colored Sunglasses: The Art of Distraction in 2017 Media

A Political Deconstruction behind Katy Perry’s “Chained to the Rhythm”

“So comfortable we’re living in a bubble-bubble so comfortable we cannot see the trouble-trouble, so put your rose colored glasses on…and party on.”

Imagine this: You’re at a house party and you don’t quite know everyone there. You make awkward eye contact with someone you might be attracted to, then pretend you were looking at something else and then check your phone. It’s the art of distraction. So when things get uncomfortable just put on your rose colored glasses.

Katy Perry has been shocking audiences with her Wow! factor whether you’re a fan or not. Admit it: You’re like me. When she pops up on my TV or shows up in my timeline I roll my eyes and scroll past it. When she shows up on my timeline being, well, Katy, I half-smile, nod my head and again—scroll past it. If she’s not singing about kissing other girls or dancing with sharks in a cupcake bra she is distracting us.

Take off your rose colored sunglasses and pay attention to this.

Besides Katy Perry, what else is showing up on your timeline? For me I’m constantly seeing oppression, tragedy and political mayhem apart from whatever 90s sitcom is reuniting for a 2010s remake on Netflix. I’m constantly reading about Russia’s involvement with the 2016 presidential election and Trump’s attempt at running our great country (again, attempt.) He’s provoking foreign world leaders and hurting people who rely on him for answers. Members of the LGBT Community are falling back to the wayside and racism is becoming the social norm again after years of regulation. So you nod when it appears on your timeline like me, and then scroll past it. Maybe you’ll even post a half-assed status update about said topic and carry on with your Spotify Playlist. That’s when you’re putting your rose colored glasses on and enter Katy Perry’s ever ongoing house party located within a white picket fence while the world outside implodes because, let’s face it—this drink is on Katy Parry and we’re all slaves to the rhythm.

She’s trying to tell you something.

If you’re not going to listen to her cry for help, then she’ll gladly continue to distract us by playing your favorite song and putting it on repeat. That’s when the cupcake bra comes out from the closet and forced into your personal space. Remember, the drinks are on her!

Now, I’m no conspiracy theorist but I’ve heard my share of claims and ideas. I’m also not a political writer so please forgive any political sways or mistakes, but there is something here.

“Are we tone deaf? Keep sweeping it under the mat, thought we can do better than that…I hope we can…”

I’m imagining members of the Trump administration running around the Whitehouse trying to cover up any nook and cranny that might expose any leak or flaw regarding Trump’s presidential win. And that includes Russia’s involvement. We know it’s there and we know there was some involvement but we just keep missing our grasp because we keep-putting-on-our-rose-colored-glasses. Throw them out!

We think we’re free, drink! This one’s on me! We’re all chained to the rhythm.

I have a few 21 year old little cousins who all live in New York City. I was born there and moved out to Los Angeles when I was 26 to launch my career. They’re all still in NYC and I’m reminded that they’re 21 whenever I open a platform of social media, whether it’s a video filled with screaming girls doing a shot off another girl or the stereotypical hot guy bartender, or on Twitter where I read a drunk rant about one of their ex-boyfriends. Back in the 70s (now, I’m a product of the late 80s) from what I understand and learned about in history class is that this was the age range that was protesting against Vietnam and the draft. They took a stand and stood up for their country and ultimately helped shape the future of our country by showing Americans that we all do have a voice and if we use it wisely and collectively we can accomplish something! Something is wrong with America again, and we need those same voices. But where or where has everyone gone? When I look around, why do I see everyone look the same? I just can’t put my finger on it? Oh, right. They’re all wearing the rose colored glasses on and partying on. We think we’re free, were in trouble, but thank you Katy Perry! This drink is on you! Sure! I’ll be right over!

When I first heard Chained to the Rhythm on my local radio station in my Uber to work I—say it with me—rolled my eyes. “Another pop comeback,” I thought to myself. Lady Gaga returned in 2016 from her 2013 piece in which the self-proclaimed Queen of the LGBT community was now singing about being the rich bitch, the upper class in a song titled “Donatella.” When news broke of Lady Gaga’s 2013 effort that was called ARTPOP a commercial failure, geez? I wonder why? Because as a gay man myself, I was very excited to hear new poetic justice and raise my arms in a Hallelujahfashion, but instead she sang to us about her new social standing and class. In short, she is better than us. Side-eye emoji. Like Lady Gaga, Britney Spears and everyone else in pop culture, Katy Perry was also staging a comeback. I was never a KP fan…until I heard Chained to the Rhythm. I closed my eyes in the backseat of this random Prius I was riding in and listened to the song my driver was blasting. For some reason rather than glazing over the song, my brain chose to listen to each word as if it were a key or amulet in a Super Mario video game we might need to unlock another level.

I imagined a little boy not unlike the one we saw in the news from Aleppo. He was crying, covered in ashes and alone in this dark gloomy desert that very well could have been America. In this ghost town was Perry’s white picket fenced house. It was burned down of course but Perry emerges from the ashes and cradles the little boy and gives him his own pair of rose colored glasses, where he experiences a world of euphoria with life and vibrant colors. He was alright because he could distract himself from what the real world’s issues were. He’ll be fine as long as he chooses not to remember what happened to his parents by removing his glasses because if he does, mother Perry will be there to remind you to put them back on unless you choose to help. There, there.

…Up in your high place liars! Time is ticking for the empire, the truth they feed is feeble as so many times before, they greed over the people, they stumbling and crumbling and we about to riot they woke up-they woke up the lions!

Perry brings along a friend in this statement piece by the means of Skip Marley, the grandson of Bob Marley where he helps deliver her message. He’s a little more aggressive than Perry is and a lot less subtle. He immediately calls the administration liars in their high places in response to these money laundering thieves that run the Whitehouse. He notes how the time is ticking for this empire (can we call it that?) If this administration isn’t more careful or caught, they’re about to wake up the lions, and these lions are angry…and hungry! But how can we if we’re too distracted by these glasses that, let’s face it-are very pretty and with the right filter can airbrush us on the spot! It could be argued that is what Perry alludes to when she says “Are we crazy living our life through a lens?” in the beginning of the track. We have Bob Marley’s grandson is warning us! This has to mean something.

Are you lonely up there in Utopia where nothing will ever be enough?

Let’s face it—we live in America where the ideology of the American Dream is manifested throughout the world. We were taught even as children that getting a good education after High School can promise us a successful lineage into our adulthood. As millennials can see it is just not that easy anymore, or simple. Unless there is some form of wealth that can afford a Master’s Degree or PhD, I think we’re stuck in this in-between place that is America circa 2017. That is why we created the caricature of a lady called Kim Kardashian. She’s fun, right?! She’s pretty, young, her sisters are silly and we giggle a little when we watch a 6 second clip on one of the many social media platforms created for us. But at night, when the world sleeps and the sunglasses are put away, up there in a Kim Kardashian utopia, it must get lonely and nothing is indeed ever enough. We struggle to pay off a costly student loan that might not have gotten us where we wanted to be while in moments, a sister is driving a car worth the same amount. And she didn’t have to lift a finger! What fun, right? Let’s sweep this under the mat too because we can do better than that…I hope.

It goes on and on and on… ‘cause we’re all chained to the rhythm.

Perry wraps up her statement piece by singing about the endless loop we got ourselves into. If we keep this up we might not be able to get out. Why? Because we’re all chained to the rhythm.

Next time you log into a social media account or talk to Sarah, the co-worker who likes to talk pop culture over by the water cooler at work, think about the lost little Aleppo boy in that imaginary post-apocalyptic America looking for his parents. We need to take a minute to take off those very pretty rose colored glasses because there is still time to set things right. While we should thank those innovators for creating Snapchat, Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter and even whatever outlet it is you’re reading this from, they just helped give us the voice which we are choosing to ignore and distract ourselves. We need to stand up like the way those “millennials” (for lack of better comparison) in the 70s did and stand up to make our voice heard because at this rate, we’re going to sit back in Katy Perry’s very comfortable recliner in her white picket fence house where she is hosting this nirvana of a party and not move a muscle until these glasses are taken away. Then what do we do? We can’t decide to revolt by then. It might be too late. Many of us might even be gone at that point. Otherwise, Katy Perry will continue to distract us with her cupcake bras and Lady Gaga and Britney Spears will shimmy themselves to death and we will continue to hand a Kim Kardashian-type free cash. Like Katy Perry claims in this 3 minute and 58 second song, she will continue to entertain us if we so choose to distract ourselves otherwise we need to listen to the underlying message in what is in fact entertaining us and do something about it.

Take the rose colored glasses off and save us.

Katy Perry is a product of Capitol Records. “Chained to the Rhythm” written by Katy Perry, Max Martin, and Sia. Produced by Max Martin. Released on February 10, 2017. Available on Apple Music and Spotify

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