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btsiguess · 4 years

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Self Indulgence (m) - Oneshot

Summary: Professor Yoonji can’t help but notice that the teacher’s pet is looking quite attractive today...

Pairing: Yoonji/Reader

Genre: PWP. JUST SMUT.

Word Count: 2905

Warnings: PROFESSOR YOONJI.....uhhh professor/student relationship which is soooo inappropriate even if it’s lowkey hot... ahhh. Choking, sweet sweet lesbian action

A/Ns: I’m so sorry guys. I’m actually druNK right now. Like so drunk i couldn’t even give it a read through at the end........so please forgive......... everything....

“It’s weird that you want to fuck the teacher.” Seungmin says, eyeing the way your stare follows professor Min around the classroom.

She knows you’re absolutely not paying attention to the class lecture. The way your hand doodles crudely drawn vaginas on the page in front of you does enough to illustrate that. You’re not quite sure why it was vaginas today. Maybe something about wanting to shove your face in one had something to do with it?

“And what do you all think?” Your ears perk up at your professors words. Dr. Min Yoonji, standing at the front of the class, asking for your attention even though she can tell all of you are bored. “What do you think about cultural hybridization? Is it a reality or simply a connotatively positive term for American imperialism?” You sigh happily at her words. She looked so good when she was speaking dense academic language. You press your thighs together.

Professor Min was probably somewhere in her mid-forties. Although it was near impossible to tell since she dressed so hip. You had an inkling that she might be queer as well, but nothing definitive. Perhaps that’s why you were drawing pussys on your class notes… hoping she just might see it and know.

“I think it’s absolutely different! Hybridization is all about globalization.” Juahn says. Of course he does. He was such a fucking brown noser. He had his head so far up Min’s ass, even you didn’t want to stick your tongue there. And that was impressive, because you’d take what you could get. He was wrong too. Just speaking so that Min would look at him. God you hated that stupid fucker. Sometimes he sent professor Min articles. You’re not saying that it was necessarily bad to engage with your teacher on the class work, but you knew that it was because he was vying for her attention. Attention that should have gone to you. And you thought it was disrespectful anyway, since she treated her as if he knew more than her. Like she didn’t have an entire PhD in the fucking field. What a cuck.

Your sneer doesn’t go unnoticed by Professor Min, who singles you out immediately.

“Oh? Y/N. Do you disagree? Speak your mind.” It wasn’t unusual that she call on you. The class was relatively quiet when it came to class discussions, apart from you and Juahn. Still your heart fluttered at the attention.

“I just think it’s hard to say whether it’s either or. It depends how much each culture has influenced the specific, like, new culture. I’m not sure if it’s quantifiable?” Your professor hums at your words and you watch Junahn’s back straighten slightly in aggravation. It was no secret the two of you didn’t like one another. And you had the text message arguments to prove it. You weren’t even quiet of your distaste for the boy in the class and the professor seemed to know it and thrive off of it. Was it hot? Absolutely.

“Right, well,” Dr. Min says, cutting the conversation short, “that’s all the time we have for today, unfortunately.” The class sighs in relief. “Make sure to do the readings. And Y/N? If you could stay after class. Thank you.”

Seungmin shoots you a look as a slight flush of red colors your cheeks. It’s a look that says “don’t be excited our teacher wants you to stay after. That probably means you’re in trouble.” ... At least. That’s what you imagine the look would say, if looks could talk.

You make your way to the front of the room, standing quietly as your professor wipes the board. Once the classroom is completely empty, she turns to you again.

“Perhaps if you were more focused on class instead of drawing female genitalia in your notebook, you might’ve done better on the midterm.” She says simply. Your mouth drops open. You had done well on the midterm! You’d gotten a 37/40. A 92%. 7 points above the class average.

“You did well,” Min continues, “but you weren’t the highest grade in the class. You were second. Behind Juahn.” Your blood boils and she smirks—full on smirks—at you.

“I thought that would get your attention.” She said. “Just understand. I like pussy too, but class isn’t the time to be thinking about it so thoroughly.” You bite your lip as your cheeks color red with embarrassment and slight arousal at the way Min Yoonji’s mouth had curled delicately around the word pussy.

There’s a slight pause in the conversation as Yoonji lets her eyes watch the way you worry your lip between your teeth. So cute. In Yoonji’s youth, you were exactly her type. Shy, nervous, … totally devoted. If Yoonji had been any younger she would’ve had you already; had your body arching underneath her, your pussy clenching around her tongue and fingers. She knows you have a little schoolgirl crush on her. How could she not know? You practically wrote it across her forehead. She had an inkling during the first semester you had class with her. You had even titled your final essay “Every time I read Kipling I remember why I’m gay” just to get her attention. And get her attention it did…

Originally, she had done her best to ignore it. You were her student, after all. But Yoonji had always been a bit reckless. It’s that fact that leads her to ask you the worst possible question she could have.

“Why pussy? Were you thinking about someone eating yours? Or you eating someone else’s?”

The older women can’t help but smile as your face goes bright red. Yoonji imagined that while you had been hoping desperately to get her attention, you’d never actually thought you’d have it.

“P-Professor, I’m sorry about not paying attention! It won't happen again!” You turn to flee from the room, but Yoonji catches you gently by the elbow.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You’re not in trouble. And you didn’t answer my question.” Yoonji isn’t proud of herself for succumbing to your coy temptation. She feels altogether too much like all the skeezy old men that used to solicit her. But she also knows she’d treat you better than all of them. Teach you more than all of them.

Yoonji should’ve realized that you would be a problem from the very first month, when she had wound up checking the school’s database for your age. You were nearly 23, almost graduated, but that meant little. You were well past too young for her, and she knew it.

But Yoonji knew she was past waiting. She couldn’t help that she wanted you. She didn’t want to deny herself, either. Yoonji wasn’t a good person, and she didn’t pretend to be.

“Both, Professor.” You finally say. And Yoonji’s eyes follow the way in which your thighs squeeze together.

“You know,” Yoonji says, and you try your best to focus on her voice, despite how distracted you are by the thought of her going down on you. “I know you have a little bit of a crush on me.”

You wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“Don’t look so embarrassed.” Your Professor scoffs. “I like the idea. Much more than I should. And I think you’ve teased me for far too long, hmm? Why don’t you hop up on that desk there. Be a good girl for me.” You scramble to follow her instructions. Knowing that it’s wrong and not caring in the slightest.

Yoonji wastes no time pushing your knees apart so that your skirt rides up your knees and reveals your underwear.

“You’re wet already, I can see it.” She teases. “Is it just from my voice? Do you sit in class all wet like this for me every day?” Her thumb begins to delicately trace over the wet patch on your underwear. Making your hips twitch in desire. You must be dreaming. You must be.

Yoonji slides her fingers past your panties, and finds your clit with practiced ease.

“Ahh,” she sighs. “You’re so delicate. So perfect…” She shuffles in between your knees, getting close enough to brush your nose with her own.

Her thumb, moving in easy circles, is driving you mad. You’re helpless in her arms, whimpering quietly as the woman you’ve been lusting after for the greater part of two semesters begins tracing softly up and down your core.

You lament briefly the loss of stimulation on your clit, but bite your lip hard at the feeling of your professor’s teasing. With each slow pass of her fingers, her index finger catches against your swollen nub, making you shake with want.

Something about the way that her ministrations are altogether too light to actually get you to cum makes you crazy. You can’t help but let your mind run wild. You were putty in Yoonji’s hands, completely at her whim. She could keep you here for hours. Just slowly tracing you up and down, watching you pant and sweat, desperately wanting to cum but being unable to.

“Do you like this, Y/N? I’m hardly giving you anything at all…” She tuts quietly. “No one’s ever treated you right before have they?”

“P-Professor--” You try to respond but suddenly the girl in question presses two fingers inside of you, the stretch making your head fall back and your hands grasp at Yoonji’s wrist.

“Can you hear yourself, sweetheart?” Yoonji says, pressing her mouth against the exposed column of your neck. “Can you hear how wet you are? All for me, right?” The squelching of your sex turns the both of you on. You because it’s finally happening, and her because… well, of course she likes the sound of you aroused for her.

You nod, your breath hitching as she sinks her teeth into your skin.

Yoonji works her fingers hard within you. Curling to find the spot that has you writhing against her.

Yoonji knows what she is doing. You’ve clearly never had a good fuck from anyone before, and Yoonji is a bit smug over the way she’s worked you up so easily. She’d never fucked someone so young before. And she had definitely never fucked one of her students. But somehow, she didn’t feel as guilty as she should, too would up in the way you were biting your lip to keep from moaning out loud at the pleasure she was giving you.

“P-Professor,” You groaned, wanting to say something more, but not having the strength to.

Yoonji was surprised at how malleable you had become at the touch of her fingers. She felt herself start to get wet at the feel of you around her fingers, feeling the tight clenching which signified your earnest participation in the illicit acts she had finally succumbed to. God, she couldn’t decide whether she should stop, or whether she was mad at herself for not having done this earlier.

Yoonji decides it’s definitely the latter as you pussy clenches around her fingers, and a small moan presses its way through your lips.

Yoonji had never been the one to play favorites. She almost always didn’t have preferences among her students. Usually in her courses everyone was so quiet. But you and Juahn had been so vocal. Juahn had frustrated her, putting his nose in business he didn’t belong in, trying to weasel his way into a good grade despite the fact that it took almost nothing to get a passing grade in the course--Yoonji hardly cared, good grades reflected kindly on herself. But you? You seemed to go to bat against the stubborn boy for no reason other than to protect Yoonji’s honor.

It was absolutely unnecessary, but still made Yoonji smile to herself every time. She didn’t need anyone’s help, but she liked the way you blushed when she called on you. And even more so she was charmed by the fact that you always had something to say, even when you didn’t volunteer for fear of seeming like the teacher’s pet.

But as Yoonji curled her fingers inside of you, wrenching a moan from your plump lips, she couldn’t help but admire the way this particular teacher’s pet seemed so eager for her good graces.

“Professor,” you gasp with as much brain power you could muster. “Professor, I wanna make you feel good too!” yoonji laughs quietly. She isn’t surprised by your eagerness to please, in fact, she relishes in it.

“Oh yeah?” Yoonji says, withdrawing her fingers from your heat, drawing a slight whimper from you. “Then get on the floor baby, tongue out.”

You follow her instructions as quickly as you can, and Yoonji wastes no time in shuffling her dress up, just a bit, so she’ll be able to see your pretty eyes as she cums on your tongue.

You look desperate and hopelessly infatuated as Yoonji shimmies her underwear down her legs, and positions herself above you.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” She says, watching you melt under her pet name.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been ready.” You reply, softly wiggling your tongue at her.

“Have you done this before?” Yoonji questions, tilting her head to the side.

You shake your head in denial, but the challenge in your eyes shows Yoonji that you couldn’t be more than ready to learn now.

Yoonji grasps the back of your head and pulls you into her pussy, sighing in relief as your tongue slides along her core. You’re sloppy and messy as you begin to eat her out, but for some reason Yoonji can’t help the shiver that runs along her spine at the unrefined way your tongue caresses her.

“You’re perfect, baby,” Yoonji sighs, beginning to rock her core against your face. “Can you put your tongue inside of me?” She asks, and you follow her instructions to the letter, just like you always do.

Yoonji rocks her hips against your face over and over again, allowing your tongue to pierce the deepest part of her. God, she should have been doing this all semester. Even professors need to release built up tension.

You’re moaning against her folds, as if there is truly no place you would rather be than lapping up the nectar between Yoonji’s thighs, and the thought makes Yoonji gush even more. There’s something so hot about the way you gasp and pant against her pussy, as if there was nowhere else you could imagine being. As if you were all Yoonji’s, ripe for the taking.

Yoonji is getting close, but as much as she’d love to make you drink her cum, she’s absolutely desperate to see you come apart beneath her.

“Stop.” She orders, and you do, just like a good little slut, looking up at her with those big doe eyes, questioning her.

“Lay on the floor.” Yoonji demands, and while you seem confused, you follow her directions regardless.

Yoonji positions herself above you, her legs slotted between your own in order to align your sexes. Then she presses herself down into you, eliciting a sigh from your reddened mouth. It elapses into a groan as Yoonji starts rocking against you. Dragging her pussy against yours just right, so your clits bump against one another over and over again. The two of you are blinded by lust, neither of you can think of anything but the way you feel against one another. The messy wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the classroom floor beneath you.

You both know you ought to feel guilty for the travesty you are committing. But it’s impossible as you feel the sparks run up your spine repeatedly. God, why hadn’t you both done this sooner?

Both of you can feel the pressure building. Mounting as it takes over each of your entire bodies.

Yoonji won’t let you get off that easy though, and so she presses her hand over your throat, cutting off your air supply and you twitch and shake beneath her.

“Are you gonna cum, my pretty baby?” Yoonji asks you, rocking her hips faster and faster, almost impossibly fast, against your own. “Are you gonna make your professor’s pussy all wet and dirty? Little slut.” She smirks as your eyes seem to roll back in your head, waves of pleasure washing over you one after the other, over and over, until Yoonji releases your throat to hunch over you, her own orgasm rushing in fiercely, allowing your juices to mix and pulse together into one sinful, noticeable puddle on the floor beneath you.

You’re both panting hard, huddled together, drenched in sweat and cum, when Yoonji takes your face in her hands and kisses you.

It’s a light kiss, so different from the aggressive way she just fucked you. And as you pant together, you feel the older woman’s body mold into your own.

“You’ve always been my favorite student you know.” Yoonji whispers to you. “You don’t have to compete with anyone. It’s always been you.”

You sigh and kiss her again.

“I love you, professor.” You sigh, not realizing what you’re saying.

She laughs quietly.

“Maybe we can go to dinner together, sometime after finals.” Yoonji mutters, and you nod. “I mean, finals are only two weeks away. You can last that long without me making you cum, can’t you?”

You nod shakily. “I can at least try, professor.”

“Alright my darling,” Yoonji responds. “Alright.”

*******

A/N: Again, I am soooo sorry. this is just weird pent up attraction i have to this one professor coming out all over the page ughhiuhjbfsldf bdbfkjedsfncjksdmfn. Tag yourself, I’m the essay title being copy and pasted from an actual essay i turned in to this woman because i was so helplessly into her. FUCK

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #min yoonji #min yoongi #yoonji #yoongi #suga #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoonji fanfiction #smut #fluff #dirty talk #choking #drunk fic #help me

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yedamismymom · 4 years

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12:35 PM

Yoon Jaehyuk x Reader

fluff

1.4k+ words (i went off ik)

“Hi.”, he greeted shyly, giving you a small wave. “Hi.”, you mumbled back, staring down at your toes as soon as the word left your mouth. He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his neck and looked around himself. Well, he looked anywhere but at you, and you were thankful for that. If he were to see how red your face was right now, you wouldn’t be able to live. This was your first time meeting each other in the flesh after long distancing for more than five months now. Well, technically, it was your third time meeting each other in real life, the first time having been when you both were about six years old. He used to be your neighbour back then, having come from the city with his entire family to take care of his sick grandmother. You both weren’t the best of friends, merely acquaintances who would play tag together after school. You didn’t remember anything else from the time, other than the fact that he once told you that he found you pretty. He went back to Seoul after that, only to return about ten years later to bury his late grandmother. Your family was of great assistance to his at the time, helping them out every step of the way. They didn't stay for long however, only a few days, but you remember Jaehyuk asking for you to stay in touch with him and even giving you his number. When he left again, you both didn’t talk much. You had wished him a happy birthday though, which led to a small conversation where you both caught up with each other. Unfortunately, the chatting only lasted a few days, after which you were back to square one. Jaehyuk texted you almost half a year later, just to update you that he’d changed his number, and was kind enough to share it with you. You had another conversation then, this one lasting longer than the last. And surprisingly it continued for months and months, eventually going on for a year. Through your texts, you and Jaehyuk became closer than you’d ever imagined. You were like a diary to him, a place where he could empty out his thoughts whether good or bad. And it had an added bonus. His diary could talk to him, give him feedback and tell him that he’d be okay. Because of this, he’d started to grow a liking for his diary, a liking for you, and after his second midterm during his third year of high school had ended, he asked you to be his girlfriend. Now of course you said yes. How could you not? Jaehyuk had you smitten. He had captured your heart and made you feel ways you’d never felt before, that too, through some simple texts. Once you both started dating, you began talking on the phone. Hearing his voice for the first time after so many years made your heart skip a beat. He sounded so manly, so mature and it only made the butterflies in your stomach flurry whenever you’d think of it. You even started video calling each other after a while. Seeing each other’s faces again after almost two years made you both fall head over heels for each other all over again. Jaehyuk was back in your small city along with his family now that he’d graduated from high school. His parents had promised him a vacation before he went to college so he asked them to bring him here. They didn’t know it was just so he could see you but he’d tell them soon enough. First, he wanted to make up for lost time. He wanted to do everything with you that he hadn’t been able to because of the phone screen that separated you from him. “How have you been?”, you asked, still not able to meet his eyes. “Umm, I’ve been well. How about you?” You could hear your heart sky rocketing in your chest. Despite mentally preparing yourself for this long awaited meeting, you were still extremely nervous. “Me too. I’ve been well.” Jaehyuk nodded and tapped your shoulder. “Why are you so shy today? Last night you were telling me how excited you were to see me, but right now you're barely saying a word.” Your eyes widened, the blush on your face deepening. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe this is happening right now.”, you admitted, fidgeting with your hands. Jaehyuk took your hands in his, giving them an assuring squeeze. “Honestly neither can I. But we know each other don’t we? Let’s just relax and pretend like we do this every single day okay?” Jaehyuk was glad that he was good with words, successfully managing to hide the anxiousness in his voice. His hands were trembling slightly, maybe because of the way your soft and smaller hands felt in his. You nodded timidly, finally fixing your gaze with his. How cute. “Let’s go to the park. You know, the one we used to play at when we were little.”, you suggested. Now that your eyes were on his face, you were finding it difficult to look away. He was handsome, you already knew that, but up close, he was something else. You were in absolute awe. “I’m guessing it’s still where it was?”, he confirmed. You nodded and he whisked you away. As you both played around the park, all the nerves washed away. You even took him to some other places, showing him around. Some things had changes since he’d last been here, other things were exactly the same. But the whole experience felt so new and unreal to him, simply because he was with you. By the time you both made it back to your street, the sun had already set. It wasn’t like you had a curfew or anything, you were an adult after all. “Be back home before dinner.”, is all your mother had instructed you before you’d run out the door to meet Jaehyuk. “I don’t want this night to end.”, you mumbled, clinging onto Jaehyuk’s arm as you both strolled along the dimly lit lane. “Neither do I.”, he hummed in agreement, “No worries though, we have many more to come.”, he reminded you. You smiled at that, but it was quick to turn to a frown. “What happens when you have to go back home?”, you asked, not liking the thought of it. “We’ll go back to how it was I guess. But you don’t need to fret about that now. There’s still a long time till I leave.” He looked down at you, giving you a warm and reassuring smile. You stuck closer to his side, finding his warmth captivating. “Hey y/n.”, he called. You jerked your head up looking at him attentively. “Yeah?” “We’re here.”, he revealed, pointing to your front door. “So soon?”, you said with a pout. “Well you know what they say. Time flies when you’re having fun. All good things must come to an end.”, he stated, making you stand in front of him. “Yeah, but I want to have more fun.”, you said, feeling sulky. Jaehyuk laughed at you, pulling your eyes to his. “So do I, but unfortunately your mom won’t have that, will she now?” You looked back at your home, and then to him, shrugging. “She might allow it for tonight.”, you said unsurely. “Hey, I promise to wake up super early for you tomorrow so we can spend the entire day together okay?” You beamed. “Really?” Jaehyuk nodded. “What else am I going to do in this boring town other than spend time with my favourite lady?” You both laughed at that, staring at each other lovingly. “I’m really glad that you’re here.”, you whispered, stepping closer to him. Jaehyuk’s eyes studied your face, his mind unable to disagree with your statement. “Yeah me too.”, he said, taking your jaw in his hand. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours. You could feel his breath on your lips, tongue slipping out to lick your own in anticipation. Jaehyuk looked into your eyes, almost as if he was asking for your permission before closing the gap between you both. The kiss was simple, soft and sweet. It was everything and more than you’d imagined. It was perfect, exactly what you’d dreamed of your first kiss with him to be like You both pulled away, a light pink dusting your cheeks. “I’ll be off then. Your mom’s probably waiting for you.”, he said, stepping away from you slowly. “Okay. Call me before you sleep.”, you said, wanting his voice to be the last thing you’d hear before the day ended. Jaehyuk nodded and ushered you to enter your house, which you complied to reluctantly. Your heart was still hammering in your chest when you sat down to have dinner, a smile plastered on your features as you recalled all the amazing memories you’d made today. They were definitely unforgettable and you couldn’t wait to make more.

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years

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Friends who cook together...

I saw today's prompt for @auyeahaugust (College AU) and thought it would be the perfect opportunity to share the beginning of this fic I've been working on!

It's actually based on @e-milieeee's post, I couldn't resist the cooking trope 😬

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 (gasp)

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Lesson 1: Ratatouille

Adrien Agreste was the perfect man. Good-looking, hard-working, charming, he was the prime example of the son-in-law every parent wanted, and the people his age who didn't want to be him wanted to date him.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng wouldn't deny she might be classified in the latter category, although less so than when she was younger. She was good friends with the model now. Voluntarily so. You didn’t fight and defeat Paris’ number one villains for years, growing from a teenager into a young adult together, without getting close. Their respective crushes on each other had faded over time, but it didn’t mean they would’ve said no if all the circumstances aligned, although they wouldn’t have admitted it out loud.

The one thing Adrien Agreste wasn’t, though, was a good cook. Not that he didn’t have everything he could possibly need in his kitchen. The apartment he now lived in, although a huge step down from the Mansion that had once been his home (but what wouldn’t be), was still a lot bigger, and a lot more comfortable than what a normal student should have been able to afford.

It was a lot better equipped, too.

Marinette had told him the contractors were abusing his trust by installing things that were way more expensive than they ought to be, knowing he wouldn’t double check, but he’d waved her concerns away. With his father’s demise, he’d just wanted to move out as quickly as possible to avoid the crowds of paparazzi, and if signing a very large cheque could provide him with the knowledge the workers wouldn’t blab, then so be it. He couldn’t bring himself to sell the Mansion despite the knowledge it had been Hawkmoth’s lair the whole time -there were too many memories associated with his mother there- but he’d had some offers to rent it out for movie settings which would definitely cover the costs of keeping it, as well as his rent. He’d looked into his finances and put all the money he’d earned as a model in a bank account, and donated the rest to a fund to help Akuma victims. There was no way he was keeping his father’s dirty money when so many people had suffered at his hands.

Since then, Adrien had fallen into a nice little routine as he moved from Lycée to University. He made the most of his freedom by exploring every nook and cranny of Paris without anyone being able to say anything about it. No curfews, no limitations, but for his own tiredness and others’ private property, of course.

It left little time for him to learn basic cooking skills. He was often too tired to make anything when he came back from his nocturnal meanderings, so he went for the easy solution: food delivery. There were so many restaurants nearby he could’ve eaten something different every night for a month and still not have gone through all of the options. It was more diverse than anything he’d ever eaten, and it suited him just fine.

Little did he know that this habit would be disrupted by his best friend moving in next door.

Marinette had been looking for a new flat. Not that she didn’t enjoy living with her parents, but she found herself wanting a little more privacy now that she was at University. The reveal that she was Ladybug had brought a lot of attention to the Tom and Sabine bakery, which was good, but a lot of it was journalists prowling around in the hopes of getting an exclusive interview with her. She was tired of being pretty much mauled anytime she left the house, and although she could easily leave via the rooftops as Ladybug, she refused to let them dictate how and when she could get in and out. Which is why, when she’d seen the words “à louer” on a window of Adrien’s building as she visited him for their weekly game night, she didn’t think twice about calling the number. Adrien had been a step ahead of her, so the owners were expecting her call. A week later, she had officially moved into the flat across from his.

She hadn’t paid much attention to his habits at first. She was too busy settling in, and with all the planned evenings with Nino and Alya, plus the ones with the Miracuclass students who remained in Paris, she didn’t see how late he came back at night, and ordering in didn’t seem out of place. What better than a pizza for poker night? Or sushi for movie night? It was easy .

As winter settled in, though, and nights out dwindled to once every fortnight, she noticed the ballet of scooters and bikes that came almost at a fixed time every night. Generally when she was about to fall asleep, doing a grand job at waking her up. Groggily stalking up to the window one evening, she’d noticed Adrien meet the delivery person as he came back from wherever he’d been, paying his due and coming up. She’d dismissed it due to midterm season approaching, but exams had come and gone and things hadn’t changed. She kept an eye out, and after two additional weeks of seeing Adrien collect a brown paper bag, knowing fully well that he ate a sandwich every midday thanks to her father’s well-meaning gossip, she’d decided to take action. She couldn’t let her partner have such a questionable diet.

“What's it going to be tonight?” She asked, leaning arms crossed against her door frame one night as he appeared on the landing.

Adrien froze at the top of the stairs and looked at her like a deer caught in headlights.

“Er…“ He raked his mind for something, anything that would sound even remotely healthy, but nothing came. He sighed defeatedly. “None pizza with left beef.” He mumbled, his head lowered guiltily. He’d seen the meme the night before, and had wanted to try it out.

“What?”

He repeated a little louder.

“Okay that’s it, you’re coming over to my place for dinner.”

He knew from her tone of voice there’d be no arguing with her, so he sheepishly followed her inside her flat, still clutching his pizza box. He wasn’t too unhappy about the outcome, if he was honest. Marinette was a good cook. He’d have a nice meal tonight.

“What about the pizza?” He asked weakly.

“We can use it as… bread, or something.” The girl suggested, crinkling her nose at the thought. For someone who came from a long line of bakers and was part Italian, calling the contents of the box pizza or even bread seemed inherently wrong.

Adrien trailed a little behind her as she walked towards her kitchen, marveling at what she’d done with the place.

Marinette’s apartment mirrored his in terms of structure, but whereas his decoration was very minimalistic, hers was a lot more eclectic, without looking cluttered. Her furniture wasn’t a set, yet fit together very well and gave the space a cozy feel. The painted walls, as well as the coloured posters, curtains, rugs and cushions made it feel very homey. He wanted nothing more than sit on her sofa and snuggle under the knitted blanket with her to watch a movie.

Platonically, of course.

Adrien walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the pastel yellow of the walls and warm lighting. Her utensils provided nice splashes of colour that brightened up the room. He particularly appreciated the Ladybug-themed colander that was drying next to the sink.

“If you look in that bottom draw,” she indicated with her foot before reaching for a jar of dried rice in a cupboard, “you should find some saucepans, if you could take two out please, Chaton.”

He obliged, resisting the temptation to lift her up to help her. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it.

“Can I put you in charge of cooking the rice?” She asked, handing him the packet. Adrien accepted it but looked at her quizzically.

“Sure!” He replied excitedly. “Do you have the instructions anywhere?”

Marinette stopped in the middle of washing vegetables she’d taken out of the fridge and squinted her eyes as she gauged whether or not he was joking. He seemed genuinely at loss for what to do.

“Have you never prepared rice before?”

“No?”

“It’s like pasta.” His clueless face made her sigh defeatedly. “You’ve never made pasta either, haven’t you.”

“Does instant ramen count? Or pasta boxes?” He flinched slightly.

“How you’re still alive and actually fit is beyond me.” She rolled her eyes. “Right, I guess we really are starting with the basics then. Consider this lesson number one: pour some water in that saucepan.”

She moved away from the sink to allow him to access it, but stayed close enough to be able to turn the tap off for him. He clearly had no idea of how much water was needed.

“Right, now put the saucepan on the hob, and turn it on.” She saw a smirk spread on his face. “And don’t even think about making a joke, I know what it sounded like!”

“You’re no fun, Buguinette.” He pouted, pressing the button she indicated.

“Add a little salt, and then we’ll just let it come to a boil.”

Next, she handed him a chopping board and tomatoes. She hesitated before giving him a knife. “Can I trust you not to cut yourself?”

“Har har.” He grabbed the knife. “Joke’s on you, because salad is actually the only thing I know how to make. How do you want these?”

She resisted making a comment on how knowing how to make salad wasn't something he really could brag about. “Sliced. We’re making ratatouille.”

“Ooh, nice!”

He listened as she talked him through the recipe, impressed by the fact she didn’t need a cookbook to remember how to prepare it. She taught him how to prepare an aubergine, which he could recognise thanks to the emoji, but could not imagine how to bring to an edible form.

“We just want to sear them in some oil with the courgettes, then we’ll let them cook gently with the rest of the vegetables and the herbs.”

He’d been quite dainty on the amount of herbes de Provence he’d added, which had prompted her taking his hand and shaking the spice pot to cover the tomatoes with it.

He looked at her concentrated expression as she stirred the pan and couldn’t help but smile, his hand still hovering above the hob.

Marinette looked at him inquisitively. “What?”

“Nothing.” She raised her eyebrows. “I just forgot how cute you are when you’re bossy.”

Marinette stammered in response, her cheeks pinking. It didn't matter how at ease she felt with Adrien now, she still couldn't take a compliment from him. He grinned and took advantage of her distraction to steal the wooden spoon from her and taste the dish.

“Authorisation to add a little salt?” He asked, refilling the spoon with ratatouille for her.

She took it, trying not to focus on the fact his lips had been just where hers were. She let the flavours flood her palet thoughtfully.

"Authorisation granted."

She smiled fondly as Adrien excitedly added missing spices to the mix.

"See? I am a competent cook!" He added with a satisfied smile.

"Please, you're barely a sous-chef." Marinette snorted. She backtracked her slightly harsh words seeing her partner's pout. "Don't worry though, you'll get the hang of it! It's just a question of practising." She rubbed his back encouragingly. "Would making the plates pretty make you feel better?"

"I think so." He mock sniffled.

Marinette made a point of taking out her Chat Noir plates, which she'd been planning on keeping for special occasions. The way Adrien's face lit up upon seeing them made the fact they were her only dishes that couldn't be dishwashed seem irrelevant. Adrien made a mental note to try and find matching Ladybug ones, although he wasn't sure if he would be gifting them to her or keeping them for himself.

Marinette busied herself with tidying up the kitchen and laying the cutlery as he worked on the presentation. Had her phone been nearby, she would've taken a picture of him as he blepped in concentration.

"Does this look good enough for Madame la Chef ?" He asked as he presented the plates to her. He'd positioned the vegetables around the rice so as to make it look like a flower.

"It's perfect, Chaton." She kissed the top of his head as she passed behind him with a packet of smoked ham. She rolled the slices into little roses and planted them in the rice.

"A table?" She asked as she finally sat down opposite him.

Adrien dug in before she could say bon appétit .

---

When Adrien came home from his morning run a couple of days later, a fresh croissant in hand, he found a conscientiously wrapped package on his doormat. The black polka dots on the field of red were a dead giveaway as to who it was from. He grinned as he picked it up and opened the door.

Breakfast and washed hands later, he sat on his couch, facing the present. He was torn between tearing the wrapping, or being civilised about it. Before he could choose, Plagg flew nearby and obeyed his cat instincts, swiftly disappearing back into his Camembert cabinet with a grin to avoid his holder's reprimands.

"Je sais cuisiner." He read the title and laughed, holding the book in front of him. It was an old edition, a yellow hardback with a picture of the author on the cover.

A post-it note stuck out from the top of the book. He opened it to get to the bookmarked recipe.

For Adrien - saw this and thought of you! Since you're so keen on instructions, this might do the trick! Feel free to use it often ;-)

Love, Marinette

P.S.: I suggest we try this recipe next!

Adrien read through the page, and felt his stomach grumble. He was very pleased at the thought that something had reminded her of him and that she'd bought it for him. The "love" and the fact she was obviously looking forward to repeating their cooking experience were added bonuses.

He himself could hardly wait.

#auyeah2020 #mlauyeahaugust #college au #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #mlb #adrienette #cooking trope #neighbours au #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #elle writes

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salty-dracon · 4 years

Text

More YTTD Theories Because I Forgot A Bunch

A continuation of this from a couple of days ago.

More theories, spoilers go up to 3-1A, and also include YTTS spoilers. Also I appreciate all of your thoughts on the matter.

In the previous post I said there were a few reasons to be suspicious of Gin. I forgot to mention one important point:

Remember the locker room and the Discussion there, where Hayasaka and Gin got magnetized to the ceiling and almost hung? According to vgperson, you can win the discussion by letting time pass three times after Hayasaka is magnetized. But after the second turn, Gin gets magnetized as well. And one turn after that, the mechanism is shut down by Midori. He makes sure “those two” are still alive via the intercom, and once confirming that they are, says “oh goodie, we can still play some more!“ and fucks off. Basically, you’ll win no matter what, because Midori doesn’t want them to die.

Midori says he observes all of the floors in the painting room, but he doesn’t really give “instructions” once they arrive or anything similar. Depending on what he’s using to monitor the room, he more or less uses his abilities to mess with the participants and the dolls. Think about how he spooks Sara and crew by saying “I’m not a painting!” if you look at the painting of him, or how he lets the crew get their hopes up about the transceiver until he speaks through it. However, he says he observes all of the floors, meaning he knows what goes on in each one. And though he’s not about losing well (he wants to kill people with the gun if he’s in a bad position, after all), he seemed to be concerned enough about Hayasaka and Gin to try and save them.

Considering he didn’t try to save Hayasaka the moment he could, and seems to have some form of disdain for the dolls, I wonder if it’s Gin he was trying to save. That brings up the question of why someone like him would want to save Gin in the first place. Maybe he’s allied with Gin somehow, whether Gin knows it or not.

-------

(Danganronpa 1 and AI: The Somnium Files spoilers in the next paragraph)

One interesting prediction rule when it comes to murder mystery games is that the culprit is “someone who’s been mentioned several times, but who we’ve never actually met”. They almost pulled that twist in Danganronpa 1 with a certain missing student. They mentioned her by name, making us think she was the mastermind for a while, before revealing the truth. The other big example I can think of is AI: The Somnium Files, wherein the serial killer in question is mentioned by name more than once, but we don’t actually meet him, knowing it’s him, until near the end of the game and after we’ve unlocked most of the other routes.

Extrapolating this to Your Turn to Die, there is one character we haven’t met yet who’s been mentioned more than once- that being Sara’s mother. We see her at the beginning of the game, passed out presumably due to an attack by Sara’s kidnappers. She’s brought up again by Sara’s dad in a flashback before Chapter 2, and then again when Kai leaves a message for Sara on the laptop. The password to that file is her mother’s name. Furthermore, we know her rough appearance, as based on seeing her passed out in Chapter 1. And taking the events of YTTS as canon, we know that Sara, or someone that looks exactly like Sara, is somehow involved in Asunaro’s AI experiments. There’s also one interesting oddity about her. As far as I remember, she’s one of two characters to get a background sprite, but not a foreground sprite. Here I’m referring to “background sprites” as the sprites that appear inside environments without black outlines, and foreground sprites as the sprites with different expressions that usually appear when you talk to a character. Every other character, notably all of the Death Game participants, the Floor Masters, and now the Dummies thanks to Chapter 3, have both foreground sprites and background sprites. Some characters, like Sara’s father and the man that Keiji killed, have only foreground sprites. The only two exceptions, that is, the only two characters whose faces we haven’t seen in perfect detail, are Meister and Sara’s mother.

Furthermore, we don’t know what Sara’s mother’s name is. Granted, we don’t know what her father’s name is either, but her name is apparently important. What if her name was also Sara Chidouin? What if she was somehow also Sara- as in, the Sara we know is a clone of her created using a doll? It’s a mystery why she’d be raising a clone of herself, but people are weird like that, sometimes.

Another related theory people have had is that Sara’s mother is in fact a part of the game- she’s just disguised as someone else. That someone else could be Miley. Though in my opinion Miley looks nothing like the background sprite I’m using for reference, a good wig can change everything. This theory might have become even stronger with the release of Chapter 3. There are a couple of situations in which Midori can say something along the lines of “Miley said you were cute when you got angry” to Sara. Though we could just take it as Miley being an asshole (she’s totally an asshole), I think there’s only one situation in which Sara got mad in front of Miley, that being when Mishima was killed. Maybe this was lost in translation, but it’s a rather sweeping generalization and a somewhat weird thing to say about someone if you aren’t familiar with them. Meaning Miley’s really familiar with Sara. Or Miley was just being an asshole.

After looking up Sara’s mother on the wiki the manga only has a picture of her wearing a mask over her mouth. The plot thickens.

Regarding the other character, Meister... people have made a couple of interesting observations about him. First, he shows up in collaboration artwork. Second, there is a person who looks very similar (albeit with grey hair) in the room above where the monitors were in Chapter 2. His clothing color scheme is exactly the same. Also it’s a big ass painting. Third, with the release of Chapter 3, there’s the entertaining feature of naming Midori whatever you damn well please, unless he makes some joke about it and tells you to pick another name. Most of his responses to you picking something like “Alice Yabusame” and “Tia Safalin” are either “here’s a fun anecdote about that character and/or what I think of them, but I don’t want that name“ and “that’s mean :( pick another name please“. Elect to name him Meister, and he only says “... Pick another name, please”. Considering his personality can be accurately described as “Kokichi if he were Monokuma”, it’s out of character. He fears Meister, or doesn’t want to be associated with him. So yeah, Meister’s probably important. Maybe he’s even the Meister-mind. (Feel free to boo me for that bad pun.)

-------

Regarding the game’s endings, most people seem to believe there’s two- a logic ending an an emotion ending. I agree with this viewpoint, as “choosing logic“ has been explored a few times throughout the game. With the release of Part 3, the choice of which ending’s which has become a little more clear.

If Alice lives and Reko dies, Q-taro says something along the lines of “The Dummies may be dolls, but they’re human just like us”. Implying that we, the humans, are also supposed to think of dolls as human as there’s no difference appearance or personality wise. Q-taro talks about Doll Reko being almost perfectly human, as a supporting argument, in reference to Alice who was unable to tell the difference between the Doll Reko and the real Reko. Remember also that the only reason we pushed Reko down the Impression Room was our logical conclusion that she was a fake. On the other hand, if we choose not to, Sara comments that despite the logic, she can’t see the Reko standing before her as anything other than real, even though there’s lots of evidence to the contrary. In that ending, the real Reko dies. Furthermore, there’s a little bonus snippet in the “afterlife” scene after Nao’s death, where Reko shows up, but Alice doesn’t appear if she lives.

For this reason I strongly believe that the emotion ending is Alice/Kanna living. Therefore the logic ending is Reko/Sou living. I have yet to test out to see if there’s any changes in dialogue with those two combinations specifically, as most people online seem to be playing Alice/Sou and Reko/Kanna. I’m streaming this game for a couple of friends on Discord, and also all my midterms are over the next couple of weeks, so it’s hard to find the time to play this right now.

I also believe that we’ll soon be facing another path split- maybe at the very beginning of 3-1B- that has to do with logic and emotion. Whatever that consent form is, it scared the other participants- it’s definitely a bad thing. However, Sara now faces the choice between saving Keiji and consenting to Whatever Evil Thing’s Going On, and sacrificing Keiji to avoid it. Logic would be sacrificing Keiji, while emotion would be saving him, in this case. Perhaps that’s not true, as Midori is the kind of person who can and would pull a fast one on Sara for funsies. Perhaps there’s something in his language implying that Keiji’s going to end up dead no matter what. He does seem to want to antagonize Keiji, after all. That, or someone else is going to die instead- probably Q-taro, having just been stabbed by Mai and being in bad shape. Even so, I wonder which will be which- whose death would be considered “logical” and whose is based on “emotion”.

TL:DR So many mysteries with so many possible answers. I just want to see someone vibe check Midori like he vibe checked us already.

#your turn to die #kimi ga shine

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foreverthesickestkidz · 4 years

Text

JEALOUS

pairing: jeon jungkookxreader

warnings: jealousy, cursing, smut, daddy kink

request: n/a

summary: your boyfriend, Jungkook, is jealous of you and Yoongi

author’s note: i just thought this would be fun idk. also this is my first smut. enjoy < 3 -Persephone

Being on tour with BTS was stressful for you since you were still in university. But, you figured since all your classes were online this semester you could join your boyfriend Jungkook and the rest of BTS on tour for a few weeks until you find a job. Really, it was fun to be able to experience everything, but Jungkook wasn’t the most helpful when it came to giving you time to do assignments and study.

“Kookie please. I really need to do well on this exam.” You ran your hands through your hair and turned to face Jungkook who stood in the doorway of the hotel room.

“Please! Babe, just for a little while.” He pleaded with a slight pout, making you want to give in to his begging. Which you totally almost did because who could say no to pouty Jungkook??

Well you, when it came between you and your future.

You rubbed your eyes with your palms and leaned back in the chair.

“Literally Kook I have to do well. Like, you have your career already. You’ve had it since you were still in high school. I have to study just like you have to write songs and learn dances.” You stood up and walked to him. “This is important.” You wrapped your arms around him and felt him reciprocate the action, kissing the top of your head.

“Alright baby, I’ll let you finish. I’ll be back later then, okay?”

“Okay, tell the guys I’ll go out for drinks some other time.” You smiled halfheartedly.

“I love you, y/n.” He kissed you and you whispered an “I love you most” against his lips before watching him pull the door closed, leaving you alone to study for your midterm.

About an hour into intense studying, you decide that maybe you should break and eat a snack. After rummaging through your bags, you realize you left your snack bag on the bus. Slipping on a jacket and crocs, you leave the hotel room and trek to the bus.

Expecting the bus to be empty, you were surprised to find Yoongi sitting alone.

“Yoongi? Hey! Why aren’t you with the other guys?” You smiled to the older male.

He looked up at you and nodded to you, seeming a little sad.

“Oh, hey y/n. I didn’t really feel like drinking tonight.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I was just taking a break from studying. You’re welcome to keep me company if you want. I don’t want you to be all by yourself.” You knew Jungkook might be a little mad that you were going to be alone in a hotel room with one of his band mates, but Yoongi was harmless and you felt like he needed some cheering up.

He almost smiled, and stood up.

“Yeah, thanks y/n. I was just in here to grab my backpack. So, let me grab that and then we can go back up.”

After reaching the hotel room Yoongi sat on the bed while you occupied the same chair you were in previously. You talked for a while, he even seemed interested in what you were studying. You were fairly proud of yourself for being able to cheer him up, his gummy smile making a show every now and then.

“You’re pretty funny, y/n. We definitely need to hang out more.” Yoongi stated while looking at his phone.

“Thanks, Yoongs. And for sure, you’re so easy to talk to!” You smiled and flipped another page in your textbook. You both jumped when the door flew open, revealing a fairly pissed off Jungkook. He would never disrespect Yoongi, so he kept calm but you could feel his anger.

“Oh! Hey, Kookie! How was drinks?” You smiled brightly despite your inner self being intimated. Yoongi simply looked up from his phone.

“It was fine. Yoongi hyung, can you give y/n and I some privacy? We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Jungkook stared daggers into you as he spoke.

“Yeah, whatever. Goodnight Jungkook, goodnight y/n.” Yoongi stood and waved as he shut the door.

Jungkook locked it and stalked towards your chair.

“So, I ask you to get drinks with me and you say no, so you can get some alone time with Yoongi?” His voice was laced with venom. You hated to admit that this side of Jungkook was sexy as hell. But, for your own sake you played like you were intimidated. He bent down and placed hands on the arm rests, his face inches from yours.

“Kookie, I-“ he cut you off.

“No, babygirl. That’s not my name.”

Your faced turned bright red as he brought a hand to your cheek. “Did he make you cum?”

With wide eyes you immediately gasped.

“NO! That’s not what-“

“Didn’t think so.” He cocked just head to the side and stood up straight, looking down at you. “Who’s the only one who can make you cum?”

You looked down, embarrassed at how much this was turning you on. You felt Jungkook’s hand roughly grabbing your chin, forcing your head upwards.

“Answer me when I speak to you.” He demanded.

“Y-you, daddy.” You quietly spoke.

“Sorry I didn’t quite catch that, angel. What did you say?” He moved his hand to your throat, squeezing lightly.

You pressed your thighs together.

“Only you can make me cum.” You said, more confidently this time.

He chuckled darkly, taking his hand away from your chin. “That’s what I thought.” He smirked and picked you up out of your chair. He set you on the bed, and started taking off his shoes. You watched as he stripped down entirely to his boxers. He turned back to you after what felt like forever.

“I’m gonna make you feel better than Yoongi ever could” he smirked and pushed you to lay back. Crawling on top of you, he kissed you roughly, hands trailing up your shirt.

He bit your lip as he grabbed your breast, causing you to gasp, allowing his tongue to slip in. You moaned into the kiss, feeling his fingers roll over your hardened nipple. His kisses left your lips and began on your neck, purple bruises surely left behind. He broke away to roughly yank your shirt away, along with the rest of your clothes.

“My angel is so pretty. All for me.” He hummed before resuming his attack on your neck. You hardly noticed his hand working it’s way towards your heat until it finally got there. He moved down slightly to lick and kiss your breasts. You gripped Jungkook’s shoulders as he ran a finger up your wet pussy.

“Yoongi got you this wet? Such a shame.” He shook his head and watched you closely as he inserted two fingers and rubbed your clit with his thumb.

You threw your head back and sank your nails into his shoulders.

“Daddy- ahh” you moaned for him.

As he pumped his fingers, he rubbed your gspot perfectly. He leaned into the crook of your neck and whispered “who do you belong to?”

You moaned louder as you felt your orgasm rise. “You!”

“Hmmm should I let you cum?” Jungkook kissed you quickly.

“Please, fuck, please let me,” you begged

He smirked, “then cum on daddy’s fingers, angel.”

Your toes curled as you released. He kissed you as you came undone in an attempt to quiet your moans. He pulled his fingers out with a sloshing sound, and brought them to his lips.

“So sweet”

You were already exhausted, and Jungkook could tell.

“Oh no baby, we’re not done.” He smirked again.

He pulled his boxers down revealing his length. It impressed you every time. He pumped himself a few times before picked up one of your legs and settling at your entrance.

He entered without warning, slamming into you at a fast pace. He put a hand over your mouth, “be quiet or I’ll stop” he instructed as he slammed into you again and again. You knew you wouldn’t last long, and neither would he at this pace.

You bit your lip and gripped the sheets, turning your knuckles white.

He felt you tighten around him. “D-Daddy, I’m g-gonna cum” you barely voiced.

“I know baby, me too.”

You both released with loud moans, and he collapsed onto you.

“I missed you y/n” he spoke quietly, hugging you tight to his chest.

“I missed you too, Kookie” you smiled.

“I’m not actually mad about Yoongi. I’m glad you guys are friends. I just get scared, I don’t want to lose you.” He pouted slightly. You kissed the little freckle underneath his lip and smiled again. “I know, love. I love you.”

“I love you most, y/n.”

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themsgdiaries · 4 years

Text

How I feel about the current health crisis is constantly changing from time to time. While I am bottling my security from the word of God, the situation also revealed to me some behaviors which slipped in. The reality is when I haven't felt the impact it can affect on the grounds I am at, maybe I care lesser than any person I know--I was less worried than them. Oblivious of its damage, I was the one behind my computer screen wondering about the crash of my little shares in stock market debating if I will still hold or sell. Glutton and heedless as I can be, I bought a few more shares.

When news ringed to my ears about the outbreak, I was that one grabbing newspapers in the public places and the newspaper shelves at Ocean campus. I was that one stealing hours from my study time to research what is happening in China. I was that instead of maybe folding my hands together.

My Chinese friends experienced discrimination and racism along with the public's fear, so I want to understand things how it shifted from the midst of chaos, people turned to blame and hate. However, I became distant from the news due to the volumes of readings my major classes demand from me because of the coming midterm examinations. The next time I get a sense of what is really happening is from text messages from my family & friends around the globe, but my concerns swell knowing how it has already affected what I have always treated home, The Philippines. That was only the time the lever was pulled and the alarm starts ringing. IT IS HERE. Numbers of cases raise day to day. Then, the impact goes closer under my bootsoles. In the beginning of March, cities & counties around SF were declaring their cases. Trying to be careful between unreliable and reliable news, I became exposed to a plethora of theories, claims, hearsay, and pieces of information. Early March, SF declared its state of emergency not because we have a case but as a preparation to open facilities. Some people did not understand what it means. Other than that, with the muti-cultural and the rich diversity we are in, everyone just became fearful each day. They were all panic buying. Supermarkets and wholesale groceries including Costco were left with empty shelves. Some were fighting over tissue papers and water bottles. Some people who are greedy bought packages of personal hygiene products which they are now selling online tripled its original price.

Is there a coming famine in the land?

The group of friends I am with continually prayed over our lunch at the cafeteria. Some shared how traumatic it is for families living separately in geographic locations, and I know that first hand. Some shared how most people talked with them about the trauma they are experiencing as an international student hearing what is happening in their hometown. Some locked themselves in their rooms. Some called in sick to avoid the outside world. Some relied on and continually meet virtually. Due to this, it encouraged us to seek God more and deeply pray for his loving hands to help us and comfort those people.

I had talked with a coworker about a month ago. I asked her how is she feeling. Instead of telling me how she is feeling, she shared with me what is happening around her and about the news bombarding her. I listened to her interpreting she had these all filled up in her head and claimed this now as her feelings. I asked another coworker and he said if only one of us gets the virus, we will all be infected. But an older coworker answered me differently when I asked her the same question. She told me, "I am not afraid of the virus. If I will get it, God allowed it. If I will die, God knows it". I am not saying her answer is the only correct answer compared to the two, but it conforted me that what she is feeling is mutual as mine, and I think how we look deep down within us is really important even if it screams fear for what or security from who?

Although I am concern, I am not afraid. I know God is bigger than anything in this world and He is always in control . I can always Trust him like how the people of faith from the old and new testament tasted the fulfillment of His promises.

Eventhough, I feel sad about the changes and the news around. I have not buy a can good to stock in my pantry yet. I turned to be this person looking around how most people forget WHO we needed. While some I know figured it out in their lives, most people around were lost, and they are being eaten alive with worries and fear--- and I still give them credit for that. But I just want to say that I hope everyone of us remain calm and cooperate to what authorities are are asking us to do, and if you believe in God, rest in his protection and know that He is almighty! In situations like this, it is easier to see the damages it caused and focus on our own security, let us mourn with those who lost their love ones, and if we can turn it around, let us see that we are so much stronger when we face this all together with the help of our loving and merciful Heavenly Father! Along with that, I made a short list of things we can do to for ourselves while helping the people we love dearly and those around us. (It is on the photos below. 🏞🌅)

As for me, I am continually practicing healthy precautions and I am still trying to inform the public as a student leader. Also, it made me realized how many hours I have for myself right now because of changes, but I am grateful knowing that I can spend those hours nurturing my spiritual needs along with my body and mind, so I had developed my plans already.

Last night at my church, my pastor who is also a full-time registered nurse shared how things are going on in his workplace. While many of them were courageous enough to be at their work, most of these medical staff were driven with fear to be exposed thinking of their families at home; just like many we know. Some of them forget their disaster badges, so they call in sick to not do the work. Thankfully, some of them encouraged one another that this is the time they are truly needed: Compassion, service, and kindness. If only one can speak positivity and hope even though it will not change the situation in a second, we can lighten the burden instantly.

Earlier that night, I meet with a group of Christian leaders and staff with my sister. We talked about how most people in this health crisis, and how we can still continue our ministry. Name & Name developed this article of ideas on how we can still communicate with people we love and how we can still meet them virtually. Ideas on how to still play with your friends. How to make them know you care, and many different things! Feel free to benefit from this. (🔗 is on the comment)

Right now, I am experiencing the transitions and changes the Covid-19 is making in my surroundings' life and in my life. My classes were modified and transitioned online. In short, I will unlikely get the most of this sem. To others, science labs, art classes, and music classes will have to find a way they can do to continue instruction refraining from face-to-face meetings. Most of the faculty & students' plan for the upcoming Spring break was now affected because our Spring break was moved earlier. I know a bunch of people who canceled their trip due to many reasons. However, I do think I needed this break to reflect in life. In a crisis like this, were social distancing is adviced. Ironically, this is also the time where I get to spend (more) time with my family. It made us closer together and apprecaite that families matters for all of us. Moreover, this testing we are facing makes me se how communities come along together in unity, and how peoplw pray for all the world. We will be resilient. We will be prayerful. We can conquer this in God's time and for God's glory.

On the otherside of how I see the silverlining of this crisis, when I received the emails regarding our campus closure and switching into online learning because of the Covid-19 cases happening around us from school to school. I realized how severely critical it is. IT IS HERE. Although there is no case yet at my college, the community is facing it already closer in my proximity. Still, I will chooses to be Calm. Trusting in the plan of the Lord!

This story I am writing is my experience, but it doesn't have to be me or about me. This can be one of the voices of many, this can be one of the feelings of a person in a crowd. This can be a perspective resonating with more than one person in the room, or this can be the realization of "where do I stand" and "what can I do because there is a plague in the land?" or it could be the time where it reveals something important to you when you ask "what do I treasure?", "what am I afraid of?" or a bold statement of "I know God will rescue us."

While I may not be the first one to kneel down and pray in my personal prayer--which I must have done first rather than being concern on my profits and shares-- for the current crisis we are facing, I am so thankful that God warned me the potential of being sef- centered, and he changed me to be compassionate and pray for the world. I am further grateful too because this made me closer to God and realize the potential ministry which can root up from this and how I can develop more into maturity and love for one another. From my experience, I realized a fact that what we are facing right now reveals people's heart's content. It stirred it up and filled it more in so many different ways. That is why I want to pray along with you right now.

Heavenly Father,

There are those families who are worried right now of their family members in their houses and in far places. I pray Lord that you help them not to worry but to understand certain health precautions they needed to do. I pray Lord that you take away the worries in their hearts and that you mercifully replace it with peace that is coming from you. Please grant them security and protection as they do their daily chores and may they always come to you in this time of need.

We also pray for those people who are suffering from the co-vid19 right now; People of different races, rich and poor, young and old. This just shows to as that no one is above any one of us and that we are all equal. Whether we live in the upstate or down in the slums we are out of control in what is happening around us, and we know Lord that you are the only one who is in control of our situation. You alone are above our situation and your name is above this virus. Father, we pray that let everything happen according to your will. May this be an awakening to us to call upon your name and seek your loving hands to guide us on what to do. Also, not only to look back and reflect on how we treated other people or what things we have so far accomplished, but look forward instead for the afterlife we will face most especially after our death. We pray Lord that may this be a turning point to people who haven't know you yet, and may this be an opportunity for your people to give comfort to those who are suffering and ill. May we shed light to those who are in the darkness, confused, and isolated. Use us, Lord, to be a blessing and encouragement to everyone. Give us hands that are helpful and a heart that listens and understands.

We also pray for the families who are bereaved, and for those people who are still in medication. We express our condolences and sympathy to them, and may those people in medication be comforted in their pains. Lord, we ask for your healing hands to grant them the recovery they needed.

We thank you, Lord, for the medical staff, the doctors, the nurses, the aids, and the first responders we have. Thank you, Lord, for their time and the talents and skills you have given them. I pray Lord that you continually give them a strong immune system as they treat and care for patients. Take care of their families, their little ones, their partners, their children as they leave their houses to go into their workplace and give the need of the people infected by the virus. Lord, continually create a compassionate heart like yours to willingly serve along with their disaster badges. Give them strength, wisdom, and understanding as they tend to the needs of everyone. As they look left and right seeing discouraging situations of the reality that we are in a health crisis and they are in a chaotic workplace right now, may they find peace in you Lord. Take away their fears and worries. Grant them security and rest that is coming from you. We thank you for them.

Father, we pray for everyone who is fearful right now. We pray for those people who are transitioning in these changes happening around us. We pray that we become more understanding on the decisions of authorities. Grant us the craft to be creative and find a solution in the changes in our routines. Help us to use our time wisely and productively. Father, we pray for those who are upset for their plans were not able to manifest due to restrictions. For the people who want to meet their families, grant them peace in their hearts so they will not worry as they care for their family. We pray father that you grant disciple and understanding for students who will face a challenging semester of class suspensions and online learning. We pray that you send help for elderly students who will find it difficult to access technology. We also pray for working students and all employees around the world that you would please provide all their needs as they rely on you despite the cuts in their hours at work or the WFH. We pray that you encourage those who are graduating this year and may they realize that their success is important, but it is not everything that matters. Grant them patience Lord and let them be cheerful in their success. I pray for the parents, Lord. Let their big heart trust in you, oh Lord. Grant them strength and let them know that you are taking care of them and it concerns you whatever their concerns are.

We pray for the church, Lord. Help us to be more prayerful and sensitive to the things we can do to help. Grant us Lord peace that is coming from you which surpasses all understanding. Grant us faith to continually minister to the needs of the people. Strengthen us, Lord, and bless us.

Lord, we declare your lordship above us. We rest in your plans and in your will knowing that you are in control of everything. We know Lord that you are a Big God. We believe in you and we ask that you help us have victory over this virus. As you heal the people and the land which are both sick right now, we ask Lord for forgiveness of our sins and that you cleanse us with the holy blood of the sacrificial lamb, our Lord Jesus Christ. Send healing not only in our physiscal body, but in our spiritual life as well that you might be glorified forever.

Thank you, Lord for our security and our faith to trust in you. Thank you for your love and your grace. May you be lifted high as always. In Jesus name we pray.

Amen.

Wishing you good health, safe travels, and may peace be with you,

The Msg Diaries

*Due to many responsibilities on school, work, and private meetings The Msg Diaries has to face. This article did not undergo proofreading, so please please forgive and bear with it. Thank you so much!

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sluttyten · 6 years

Text

Playing the Game

summary: taeyong’s been your best friend for a few years now, but sometimes it gets a little hard to just be his friend. you’re at university and there’s no better time to blur that line between friends and a little bit more, to make your lives just that much more messy.

words: 11,724

pairing: taeyong x reader, side johnny x jaehyun

Lee Taeyong was not the fuckboy he wanted everyone to think he was. Sure, he strode around campus looking “fresh” and “fly” (both were exact words he’d used to describe himself to you in the past), and he flirted with just about every single person who looked even remotely interested in him. But he wasn’t the stereotypical fuckboy who screws around and gets wasted every weekend of his university experience. He wasn’t mean-hearted, not very interested in the parties in the dorms or the houses just off-campus, and he chose to spend most nights with you.

You met Taeyong on the first day of freshman orientation when everyone is awkward and has no idea what they’re really doing. He was typing away on his phone, his hair hidden beneath a beanie, and his hands swamped by the sleeves of his sweater. He looked, much like you, as if he wanted to be anywhere but sitting in Lecture Hall 4, preparing to be lectured at by the group of student mentors who were still gathering at the front of the hall.

Sometimes after that day you would wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t arrived late and been forced to squeeze into that seat there in the very middle of the room. What if you hadn’t tripped and nearly fallen into Taeyong’s lap and drawn almost every eye in the room to you (except for his because, really, his eyes were just glued to his phone). What if when the time came to be separated into smaller groups, you’d not been stuck with Taeyong and the lanky Bigfoot creature who called himself Johnny.

Maybe then you wouldn’t be guaranteed to be crammed inside their tiny dorm room every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night for the next three years.

“You know, you do need sunlight every now and then,” You say as you walk into the near darkness of the room. “So much artificial light isn’t good for you.”

Johnny’s hunched over his desk in one corner of the room, headphones on, hands whirring through his music selection as he tries to compose the proper playlist for the school’s 24-hour radio station which he DJs with a rosy-cheeked freshman boy. Johnny doesn’t even acknowledge you as you scoot inside and collapse on Taeyong’s bed.

“We’re not plants. Why do we need sunlight?” Taeyong asks, not peeling his eyes away from the screen where he’s busy obliterating zombies or aliens or whatever it is that his latest gaming obsession does. You stare at his shoulders, highlighted in blue and purple light as the screen glows with an explosion.

“Don’t you have a biology midterm coming up?” You pull a crumpled sheet of paper out from where it’s balled up beneath you, and toss it at the back of Taeyong’s head. “Shouldn’t you be studying instead of whatever that is?”

Taeyong’s answer is only a shrug.

Of everyone you’ve met since coming to university, these two have managed to become your best friends. Just that one day, the first day, sealed your fate.

Johnny was the one who decided to stick close to you, somehow deciding that you were too fragile to be left to roam campus alone because there are people bigger than you and stronger than you and night classes can be dangerous. He always picked you up from your night class and walked back to the dorms with you, always smiling and warm, prepared with an umbrella or a hot drink when the weather turned rougher.

It took a little while longer to get Taeyong to warm up to you. He watched you like he was a skittish cat at first, unsure what to make of your presence and the way that you smiled at him. But then a week after meeting him, you finally saw him without a hat on, and his hot pink mess of hair was revealed. You laughed, and when he self-consciously smashed it down with his hands, you told him that you liked it.

And it was just that easy.

“I don’t need to study.” Taeyong tells you, twisting the controller in his hands. “I know it all.”

You roll your eyes and watch the lights of the game play off the side of his face. “I’m trying to keep you from flunking out. But fine, keep playing your game.”

You kick back on his bed, put your head on his pillow, and reach for the book you left sitting on the bookshelf beside his bed a few days previous. No sooner have you opened the book and flipped to where you left off than Taeyong’s throwing a notebook into your lap.

“What’s this?” You pick it up, consider throwing it back at him, and then notice his familiar scrawl inside the pages of diagrams and charts.

“Quiz me. I know it all.”

So you do. Taeyong bounces answers back at you without even looking away from the screen. All of them correct. Honestly, it gets annoying the longer it goes because Taeyong can be so effortlessly smart, half-distracted by his video game, but still aceing the questions you give him.

Eventually, you give up.

“Fine. You win.”

“I thought that was never going to end.” Johnny stands and stretches, looking over at you on Taeyong’s bed. “I’m going to grab something to eat from the cafeteria. You want anything?” You shake your head no. “Tae?”

Taeyong grunts a negative.

Johnny pulls on a sweatshirt and leaves the room. You don’t talk for a few moments, just watching Taeyong engrossed in his game, and slowly your eyes wander to the screen. It’s not a game you know much about, although spending so much time with him over the last few years has increased your knowledge about video games.

“Can you teach me how to play?” You propose, climbing off the bed to stand beside Taeyong.

Finally, he looks away from the screen, blinking up at you as his eyes focus. “What?”

“I’m bored, Tae. My best friend refuses to leave his room, so I have to be here too. Teach me how to play.” You grab one of his arms and tug until he relinquishes his hold on the controller, and you sit down in his lap. “I want to play.”

Taeyong is quiet for a moment, and when you look over your shoulder at him, he’s watching you with a curious look in his eye. Another handful of silent seconds, and then, “Alright.”

The game isn’t quite what you thought it was. Not all killing things and blowing stuff up. Taeyong reaches around you to hit buttons on the controller when you don’t move fast enough, and the rest of the time he’s hissing instructions in your ear. You don’t even notice how into the game you’re getting until you feel Taeyong’s hand on your hip and his other curls over one of yours on the controller.

“Y/N.” His voice is low, and you shake yourself out of the video game’s hold, shifting a bit so you can look over your shoulder and see him. Taeyong’s hold tightens minutely. “I’m sorry, can you just…” He nudges you forward.

You stand up, ready to tell him that you’re not going to stop playing while he goes to the bathroom down the hall. But Taeyong doesn’t stand up. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t move except to pull his pillow off his bed into his lap. It takes you a moment to register why he’s done that.

“I’m sorry.” He looks away and hugs the pillow tighter, hiding the boner that’s surely tenting the front of his sweatpants. “I don’t know why I’m–”

You sit the controller down, feeling your face growing warm. “No, it’s fine. It happens sometimes.”

“To horny pubescent teens.” Taeyong says, and now you can see that he’s blushing. “I just haven’t gotten laid in a while and you kept moving around on me, so I can’t help but react. This is embarrassing.”

It’s not like you’ve never felt his boner before. You’ve spent the night in his bed several times, falling asleep during late nights studying or after getting drunk on the cheap wine Johnny brought home to celebrate his birthday. You’ve woken to the feel of Taeyong cuddling you with his erection against your back, or to him carefully trying to climb over you in his rush to the bathroom down the hall.

Each of those times you’d either left before he woke or pretended like you were asleep until he came back. Now, you’d either have to leave, knowing that he was going to jerk off as soon as you left the room (and that painted an interesting mental image for you), or you’d stay and wait for it to go away on its own. Either way, this situation wasn’t getting any less weird for the two of you.

But there was always a third option, although you weren’t sure how he’d take it if you were to propose it. So you start out tentatively.

“If you want…” You say quietly. Taeyong’s eyes snap up to yours. You hold his gaze and clear your throat. “If you want, I could suck you off. Just as a one time thing. We never talk about it again. I get you off then we go back to playing this game like nothing ever happened.”

Taeyong searches your face, looking for any weakness, any tell that will let him know that you’re joking. He finds none because you have none to give. You really want to do this, not just because you want to get back to the game, but because there’s a part of you that’s always been curious about Taeyong’s dick in a mostly I’m-just-curious kind of way.

“Alright.” Taeyong’s fingers clench around the pillow in his lap. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

You nod.

He watches as you sink to the floor on your knees, both of you holding your breath as if just one noise or fast movement will break this fragile deal. You take the pillow and draw it out of his lap, and now Taeyong has nothing to hold on to, so he just clenches his hands at his sides and watches you.

You touch his leg lightly at first, near his knee. And he twitches just slightly, but when you look up at his eyes, his face all lit in shades of blue and purple and red from the game paused behind you, he nods. You keep touching, trailing your fingers up his thigh until you come in contact with his hardness.

When you hesitate, Taeyong tells you, “You don’t have to. We don’t have to make this weird, Y/N. Give me five minutes, say all of the nastiest shit you can think of to help me get rid of this, and we’ll pretend like this thing never happened.”

But in truth, you’re ready for it. Saliva builds up in your mouth. You’re already expecting the weight of a dick on your tongue, down your throat. Taeyong doesn’t need to know just how badly you want this, so you don’t tell him. You just shake your head and reach for the opening in his sweatpants, reaching inside and wrapping your hand around him.

Of course, he’s gone commando. You’d never seen a pair of underwear in his room, so this bit of information doesn’t surprise you. What does surprise you is the way that Taeyong melts as soon as you touch him. His fists fall open and all of his tense muscles relax. It’s like magic, some part of you thinks. And you haven’t even pulled his dick out or put it into your mouth yet.

When you do pull his dick out into the air, you stare at it for maybe a moment too long.

Self-consciously, Taeyong shifts. “Well?”

You lick your lips and glance up to meet his eyes again. “Just checking to see what I’m working with. You pass.”

Taeyong laughs, and the sound puts both of you a bit more at ease.

You stroke your hand over his length and then lean forward, shuffling closer on your knees until you’re completely between his legs. You stare at the pretty pink color of his tip as you lower your mouth toward it. He looks soft and cute, and when you close your lips around him and suck, you’re almost surprised that he tastes salty rather than sweet, as pink and delicious as he looked.

And as the heat of your mouth wraps around him, Taeyong drops his head back and moans, low at first, but the farther down his cock your mouth sinks, the higher pitched his moan turns.

You put one hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb over the crease where his inner thigh meets his hip. That touch combined with your mouth sucking around him as you pull back up has Taeyong reaching for anything to hold onto. The anything that he finds is your hair.

You smile when you feel his fingers tangle in your hair, and he forces your mouth back down on his cock.

“Shit, this is good.” He moans, fingers massaging against your scalp.

You gag when he hits the back of your throat, and you pinch Taeyong’s wrist so he’ll release you and you can pull back up for a breath.

With one hand you tuck your hair back out of your face, and with the other you keep up your attention on his cock. You experiment a bit, going slow and then faster, squeezing around his base then around his tip, tracing the veins with your tongue and then just sucking on his head. It’s all to see what drives Taeyong the most wild. What makes his eyes roll back and his pretty mouth open to let out a curse or your name.

You quickly find he likes it best when you use your tongue around the tip of his cock and your hand on the rest of him.

Taeyong’s hand comes down on top of yours on his thigh. His legs twitch in toward you, and he grunts, “I’m going to cum.”

You sink your mouth over his head and keep pushing until your mouth meets your fingers. You suck and swallow, and suddenly Taeyong’s cumming. Warm cum spills down your throat and you swallow, gagging suddenly around him. You flick your gaze up to his face. You want to see this moment of his pleasure.

His brows are drawn together, mouth fallen half open. As you watch, he bites at his bottom lip, and his moan goes deep again. He pushes his hips up into your mouth once more and then squeezes your hand.

You pull off his cock, swallowing down the taste of cum and trying not to be too put off by the flavor.

Taeyong stares down at your lips as his cock slips from your mouth.

“You’ve got a little…”

Maybe you do it intentionally just to see his reaction or maybe it’s because it’s the cleanest way to get rid of the cum on your lips, but either way, you lick your lips and run your fingers over your chin, gathering what little cum leaked from your mouth.

Taeyong’s eyes widen the slightest bit.

You’ve just settled back on your heels, when you hear the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside and Johnny’s voice calling “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

There’s just enough time for Taeyong to tuck his dick away and for you to spring to your feet and throw yourself around him to collapse (totally casually) on his bed again. You’ve barely finished arranging yourself when the door opens and Johnny steps inside.

Johnny takes one look between the two of you, the suspiciously suspicious space between you. He shakes his head and throws a candy bar over to Taeyong. “I know you said you didn’t want anything, but that girl Tara almost begged me to give it to you.”

Taeyong’s face flushes and he nods, mumbling something.

“Got a girlfriend, Tae?” Johnny teases.

“Yeah, right.” You laugh, covering your mouth with your sleeve and hopefully wiping away any remaining evidence. “Who’d want to date our Taeyong?”

o 0 o

That night wasn’t the last time. Of course it wasn’t.

You’d known Taeyong for three years, so you should have remembered that he didn’t like to be indebted to anyone. Even if it was something as little as someone holding a door open for him, he’d be sure to pay them back in a similar way.

So giving him head was not something that he would let go without repayment.

It’s a little less than a week later when you’re sitting in the cafeteria between classes. The cafeteria is fairly busy with lunching students and faculty, hundreds of people sitting around and waiting in line. You’re tucked in a back corner, earphones in, textbook open, food half-eaten.

Taeyong drops into the seat beside you and tugs one of your earphones out and puts it in his ear then reaches for your food.

“I’ve been thinking,” He says, popping one of your chips into his mouth.

“That’s dangerous.” You highlight something in the textbook, not looking up at him. To be honest, looking at him isn’t something you’ve done a lot of since that night. Every time you do something dangerous and sexy sneaks into your mind, preying on your normal thoughts and poisoning them until all you’re thinking of it Taeyong’s cock in your mouth, his cum down your throat, the sight and sound of his orgasm.

He knocks his shoulder into yours.

You’re about to retaliate and say something like “I’ve had your dick in my mouth, be nice to me” when someone else sits down at your table across from both of you.

A girl is sitting there. She’s pretty, you guess. Waifish, if you had to choose one word to describe her. Blonde and pale and she’s wearing contacts that make her eyes seem an unreal shade of green. She smiles at Taeyong as if you’re not even there.

You jerk your earphone back from Taeyong’s ear, and stuff it back into your own. You crank the volume loud enough that you can’t hear Taeyong’s conversation with the pretty girl. It’s only when he touches your wrist that you even look up from your textbook.

Again, he tugs at your earphones.

You sigh and pause your music, taking out your earphones so you can hear him. You’re alone now and you’re not sure when the girl left, but you don’t really care either.

“So, anyway, I was thinking dangerously. About the other night.” His eyes are almost comically wide, deep brown and serious at the moment. His attention shifts between your eyes and your mouth, as if he’s checking for any shame or angry ticks. When he finds none, he continues. “You did me a favor. I should pay you back.”

Up until that moment, you’d forgotten about Taeyong’s thing about owing people.

You look down at your textbook, feeling the edges of your face starting to heat up with embarrassment.

“You don’t have to, Tae. Really. Like I said, it was just a one time thing that we never have to mention again.” You tuck your hair back behind your ear. “Yet here you are, mentioning it again.”

He laughs and leans against the table, tapping his fingers against the surface. “I passed that Biology midterm.”

You’re grateful for the change in subject, and you foolishly let yourself believe that’s the end of it. Of course not.

Not even an hour later, after you’ve left Taeyong so you can go to your next class, your phone buzzes with a text from him.

from taeyong: the offer still stands. next time you’re feeling a bit hot and bothered and need some relief, you know where to find me

Your face goes up in absolute flames and you almost drop your phone. The balls on this guy to just say that kind of stuff to you. You take a deep breath and then another, but when you close your eyes, all you see is Taeyong’s dick and now his fingers tapping out their pattern on the table.

That image haunts you for the rest of the day. That night you wake from a dream (halfway a nightmare, halfway a sex dream) where Taeyong’s penis is as tall as he is, and it talks to you (the nightmarish part), but when you kiss it, it shrinks down to his normal size and there you are, once again giving Taeyong a blowjob.

You wake up throbbing, needing to be touched. If your roommate wasn’t sitting awake, binge-studying for her Econ exam, maybe you would have done something about it, but she glanced over when you sat up. By the time your racing pulse settled, you were cursing Taeyong and his damn erection in the first place.

It goes on like this for another two days. Sex dreams at night, ignoring Taeyong’s continued offers of reciprocation by day.

When the next Friday rolls around, you’re exhausted by him, but you would never miss out on the usual Friday night schedule of sitting on his bed and watching him fuck around.

This time, Johnny’s on his stomach on his bed, watching a movie on his laptop. Taeyong is sitting beside him, legs stretched over Johnny’s back while he plays a game on his phone.

“Hey,” Johnny calls. “Didn’t Tae tell you what we’re doing tonight?”

You pause halfway in the door. “What?”

“There’s a party that he somehow got us invited to.” Johnny explains. “The most exclusive one of this weekend. And he says that he’s not interested in that Tara girl, but then she does stuff like this for him.”

While Johnny’s busy rolling his eyes, you look at Taeyong. He’s still playing his game, seemingly not listening to a word that Johnny’s said.

“I thought you don’t do parties, Tae?” You ask, finally crossing the room to climb onto Johnny’s bed and sit with your back against the wall and legs splayed over his, much like Taeyong is doing. “Why didn’t you just turn it down?”

“He can’t turn down this invitation, Y/N. And even if he could, I wouldn’t let him. I need Taeyong to get me in there for the sake of the radio.” Johnny stops the movie and you can see his face reflected in the screen, the contemplative look on his face.

“What does this party have to do with your radio thing?” You roll your feet over his thigh, shaking his whole leg. Johnny kicks his leg up as if that’ll do anything to make you stop. “You’re not a gossip radio, so what good is a party. Why can’t we just stay in like normal?”

Taeyong finally sits his phone down. “The freshman is going to be there.”

Johnny drops his head down into his arms, and from his hiding place comes a muffled, “Stop it.”

“You have a crush on your co-DJ at the radio?” You ask, sitting up, suddenly intrigued because as long as you’ve known Johnny he’d only expressed romantic or sexual interest in one guy, and Ten had fled back home to Thailand two years ago when Johnny expressed how serious he wanted their relationship to be. But now he was into this new guy. “I want to go to this party now. Can I meet the freshman?”

“You’re not dressed for a party. You can’t go.” Johnny lifts his head to tell you. And you know he’s right. You came over dressed exactly like you were planning to spend the evening watching Taeyong and Johnny argue about whatever game Taeyong wanted to play. Holey sweatpants and a faded Minnie Mouse t-shirt weren’t exactly clothes to wear to an exclusive party.

“I can improvise.” You struggle to your feet, and then stand there beside the bed, glancing around the room as if you’ll find anything to wear in the mess that your two best friends call a dorm room. “I have to look good if I’ll get to meet the freshman.”

Johnny groans and drops his head into his arms again. “Stop calling him that. It makes me sound like a cradle-robber or something. His name’s Jaehyun. Call him Jaehyun.”

You catch Taeyong’s eye and grin.

“We’ll get you that dick, Johnny.” Taeyong pats Johnny’s butt and then crawls over him so he can stand up. “Don’t worry, buddy.”

Half an hour later, your idea of outfit improvisation turned into you borrowing one of Taeyong’s baggy shirts and twisting it into a dress like you’d seen how to make online once. It was a simple and easy solution, and both he and Johnny complimented you when they turned around to see you.

You fold your clothes and leave them sitting on Taeyong’s desk to get later that night, and the three of you leave for the party.

The party’s in one of the houses just off campus property, so Johnny drives. He has to circle the block three times before giving up and parking two blocks away from the house. You pass bunches of other students, hiding what pills they’re popping or whatever they’re smoking as you and Taeyong and Johnny scoot around them.

The inside of the house is full of already drunk students. Music blares from somewhere deeper in the house, and a loud game of beer pong is set up right there in the entryway. Johnny loops an arm around you and Taeyong and walks deeper into the house, grabbing drinks for each of you along the way.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” Taeyong shouts at Johnny to be heard over the music.

Johnny points over the crowd to a clear spot where a DJ stands, smiling and talking to a pretty girl. She passes him a drink and he drops his arm over her shoulder and kisses her cheek. You look up at Johnny in time to see the smile slip off his face.

“Fuck him,” Taeyong says, clapping a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Let’s get drunk.”

Johnny seems only too pleased by that idea. You and Taeyong trail him across the room to the kitchen where he fills a glass and drains it immediately. You stand beside Taeyong, your shoulder pressed almost distractingly against his, and watch as Johnny knocks back cup after cup. When he’s got that buzzed glaze over his eyes, he sits the cup down and pushes away from the counter.

“I’m going to talk to him.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” You ask, grabbing his arm.

Taeyong’s hand curls around your wrist. “Let him go. Johnny knows what he’s doing. He’s not that far gone yet.” So you release Johnny and watch him walk away, squeezing through the crowd, and headed straight for where Jaehyun stands beside his laptop.

“Now that we’re alone…” Taeyong says, tracing his fingers lightly over your hand. “Maybe you’d like to think about my offer again.”

Your heartrate spikes and you pull your hand away. “Not now, Tae.”

He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the countertop. “There is actually an expiration date on the offer of reciprocation.” His gaze runs over you from head to toe. “There’s no way that you’re never horny and how can you be fine with just getting yourself off. You do masturbate don’t you?”

Your face flushes with heat and you push his shoulder. “I’m not talking about this with you. Not here. Not ever.” You start to walk away when he takes your arm again.

“Wait, I’m joking! Please don’t leave, Y/N.”

You throw his arm away, but lean back against the countertop beside him. You fill a cup and pass it over, then fill one for yourself. “Cheers, Tae.”

He smiles at you over his cup. “Cheers.”

After that, the energy of the party takes over for a while. You let Taeyong pull you out to where people are dancing to Jaehyun’s music. You laugh and let loose and when you spot Johnny, you wave him over. He pulls you close and you don’t mind, knowing that it means nothing when he dances with you because he’s constantly casting glances toward Jaehyun, trying to see if the younger guy is watching.

You dance with Johnny, then when he goes to get another drink, Taeyong takes his place. The feel of his hands on your hips, playing with your hands, his body so close and warm as you laugh together and move to the music sends waves of lust through you. You can feel that memory of his cock in your mouth sneaking its way into your mind again, and it takes everything in you to keep pushing it away.

Taeyong keeps his eyes on your face while you dance together, and you can tell that he sees that fire burning inside of you, the one that sparked to life because of his touch. And suddenly the room is too hot.

You step back and nearly knock into the couple dancing behind you.

“I need a drink.” You tell Taeyong, and then you’re turning and disappearing through the crowd, heading for the kitchen.

You hear him following you, calling your name, but you keep moving.

Someone’s opened a window in the kitchen and cool air flows in through it, so you step as close as you can and suck in a few mouthfuls, letting it clear the haze of your mind a bit. You fill a cup with water and drain it in seconds, then suck an ice cube into your mouth, hoping the shocking cold of it will help you feel more sober.

You turn around and see Taeyong a few feet away, watching you cautiously out of the corner of his eye. That pretty girl from that one day at lunch is standing in front of him, flipping her hair over her shoulder and smiling. She has a hand on his arm and she’s laughing, and you watch as this girl who must be Tara flirts with him while he keeps watching you.

You roll your eyes. Taeyong complains about not getting laid for a while, but when this girl stands in front of him looking at him like that, he shows such little interest in her.

In the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway, you think you see Johnny walk passed, so you head that way, hoping that you’ll be able to drag him back out to dance or at least convince him to go sit outside with you. You push through the people in the kitchen and step out into the hallway.

You head away from the main party, walking down the hallway and hoping you’ll find him.

Before you get very far, you hear your name and the sound of footsteps. Taeyong. You slow your pace so he can catch up, but when he does he hip checks you, and when you knock into the wall, Taeyong stands in front of you. His arms come in on either side of your face, and he leans in until his face is just inches away from yours.

“Taeyong.” You wanted your voice to come out hard and warning, but instead it betrays you, sounding far more weak than you’d wanted. You put out your hands and press them to his stomach, fingertips pressed against the thin material over his abdomen.

“What are you running from?” He asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head. “I just got really hot, and then I thought I saw Johnny.”

For a moment, Taeyong stares at you, doing that thing where he searches your face for the truth. The dull thumping of the party’s music comes from the other end of the hallway, and your heartbeat feels like it matches the beat of the music.

“Do you really not want to ever accept my offer?” Taeyong breathes out, his quiet words almost lost in the noise of the party. “It doesn’t have to mean anything either. It’s just repayment. And because it’s been a while since I got the chance to eat a girl out. I want to see if I’m still any good.”

You twist your fingers in his shirt and tug lightly. “Why don’t you ask that Tara girl if you��re any good?”

Taeyong cocks his head to the side. “Because she wants a relationship. I just want sex.”

“Just sex?” You repeat.

He nods. “That’s all. I’ve even got rules to follow. No kissing, no dates or things that could be misconstrued as dates, and no after-sex cuddles. It ends whenever either person asks for it to end. It’s casual.”

You turn his words over in his mind, still all too aware how close he is to you. The smell of his body spray and the faint scent of alcohol on his breath. The heat of his arms on either side of your face, and the solidness of his body under your fingers. You wish you had another ice cube to suck on because your body is catching fire again.

“Damn it, Taeyong.” You hiss, closing your eyes and dropping your head forward. He shifts back to avoid you accidentally headbutting him. “Alright. I’ll do it. Your persistence has got me horny and honestly, my fingers aren’t cutting it.”

He smiles and takes your hand. “I knew it.”

You shove at his shoulder. “Let’s go back to the dorms.”

o 0 o

The walk back to the dorms is long and chilly. Long enough that you’re certain you’re sober by the time that you reach your building. Chilly enough that Taeyong teases you that you should have left your sweatpants on. He wraps his arm around your shoulders instead, and it doesn’t do much to actually block the wind, but it definitely fills you with heat.

Your roommate is away for the weekend, so you take him to your dorm room, grateful that for once you’ll have privacy.

As soon as the door closes behind you, Taeyong’s already reaching for your waist. “What do you want me to do with you, Y/N?”

His fingers touch the hem of your dress, brushing over your thighs. You stumble backwards toward your bed, and Taeyong follows, kicking his shoes off beside the door.

“Let’s just start with you shutting up.” You tell him. You slide onto the bed and start to unwrap Taeyong’s shirt from around you, ready to rid yourself of the dress. But his hand lands on your arm as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t take it off. I like seeing it on you.”

You pause, then lean back into your pillows. “Alright, Tae. Start repaying me.”

His hands come down to your legs, and you feel a ball of nerves in your belly as he spreads your knees and trails his fingers up your thighs. One thing other than your roommate’s absence that you’re grateful for is that you’d had the foresight to wear some nice panties on the chance that something like this could happen. You would die if you’d had the misfortune of wearing any old, normal pair.

Instead, when Taeyong pushed the edge of you shirt dress up, he found a pretty, silky blue pair.

Already wet from imagining this moment the whole walk back to the dorms, there’s a wet spot on your panties, which Taeyong wastes no time in touching. Just the simple brush of his fingers over you feels so good, you’re so sensitive.

“Are you this wet for me?” He asks quietly, pulling his hand away to rest on your thigh.

You shift your hips on the bed. “I thought I told you to stop talking?”

Taeyong laughs and pushes forward to press his lips against the fabric right over your clit. You hiss, and Taeyong pulls back to look up at your face. “I can take them off?” He asks you, already hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

You nod and Taeyong slides them down your legs and drops them off to the side. He moves back into place.

“Tell me if what I’m doing isn’t working for you. This is pointless if you’re not enjoying it.” And then he’s flicking his tongue over your clit and sliding a finger through your slickness before pushing it inside you.

“More of that. Please,” You reach down for his hair and push your hips down onto his finger. “Your fingers inside of me will do better than you just teasing my clit.”

Taeyong obeys, sliding a second finger inside of you. He lays his tongue flat over your clit so when you move your hips, you’re pressing onto his fingers and grinding against his tongue. His free hand slides up your body, pushing the shirt up with it until he can grasp your boob, rolling your nipple under his thumb.

You gasp and roll up into his touch, grinding down on his fingers, moaning when his tongue slides over your clit. With your hands in his hair, you pull him closer, but Taeyong breaks free of your hold. He pulls his mouth down, trailing kisses over your thighs while his fingers crook inside of you, pressing against that spongey spot that makes the world go fuzzy and warm, and then his mouth is back, hot and wet, sucking on your clit.

“Tae, shit!” You gasp, grabbing his shoulders and digging your nails in. “Oh, god, right there.”

He strokes his fingers over your walls and flicks his tongue over your clit, and you roll your hips down into his touch once again before your orgasm crashes over you, flooding through you in waves of pleasure.

Taeyong pumps his fingers, working you through your orgasm as you shudder and moan, scratching your nails over his shoulders.

It was good. His oral ability definitely hasn’t gone dormant, he doesn’t need to worry about it.

He slides his fingers out of you, and then places kitten licks against your pussy, swirling his tongue around your opening and lapping at your clit until you’re shivering from the sensitivity. You push him away and Taeyong goes easily. He sits back on his heels and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth, staring down at you, still all laid open for him, pretty pink and glistening with his shirt rucked up over your boobs.

“Consider me repaid.” You tell him, running your fingers through your hair. “But if you want some help with that,” You nod at his lap, and the evidence of an erection straining against his jeans. “Now, I’m definitely ready to go.”

Taeyong hesitates for a moment, his hand drifting down to his lap to palm himself, and then he takes another look at the wetness between your thighs, your boobs, and the hungry look in your eyes. You just want to be filled, and you’ve seen his cock, you know that he can do the job.

“Condoms are in the bottom left drawer on my desk,” You tell him. Taeyong springs off your bed.

You wrestle your way out of the shirt, now more of a hindrance than anything else, and you’ve just thrown it aside when Taeyong climbs back into the bed, shucking his boxers off. He drops the condom beside you and throws his boxers to the side to join the rest of his clothes.

With a hand around himself, he watches you tear open the condom packaging and you carefully roll it down his length.

“How do you want me?” You ask. “Missionary? You want me to ride you?”

Taeyong gestures with his chin. “Turn over. Hands and knees.”

You get in the position, and as soon as you’re settled, Taeyong’s hand goes to your hair. You feel him wrapping his hand in it, twisting it around through his fingers, and then he presses his erection against you, rubs the head between your lips and against your clit.

“We should make this a thing, Y/N. Friends with benefits, right?” He tugs lightly on your hair, pulling your head back toward him. “Use each other whenever we need it, so we don’t have to go looking for sex.” Taeyong presses his cock just barely inside you, just enough that you can feel him, just enough that you want to push back on him.

“Yes,” You moan.

Taeyong shoves his cock the rest of the way inside of you, releasing your hair so he can put his hands on your hips, dragging you back against him when you bounce off his thrust.

“This is lame, but I’m not going to last long.” He grunts, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes through the room. “You’re so tight.”

Your walls clench around him and you push back into his thrust, wanting him deeper, wanting him to fill you so good and press against that spot.

You let out a moan and squeeze around him, falling forward into the pillow.

Taeyong moans and fills the condom, cock pressed as deeply inside of you as he can go. His hips are pressed flush to yours, and he collapses over you, so his arms support him on either side of your face, and he bends down to press his lips against your ear. A sharp slap against your ass has you moaning and lifting your ass against him.

“Don’t fake it with me, Y/N. There’s no point in this if we aren’t both getting something out of it.” He pushes himself upright again, and with his hand once again tangled in your hair, he pulls you up against him, your back pressed to his chest. “I want to make you cum again.”

And then you’re bouncing on his cock.

Taeyong releases his hold on your hair so he can use both hands to pleasure you. He rolls you clit between his fingers, whispering in your ear as you drive yourself down on his cock. His other hand is pressed over your heart, massaging your breast, teasing your nipple, pinching and pulling until you’re cumming. Really orgasming this time.

Only Taeyong’s quick move of wrapping his arms fully around you keeps you from losing your balance. He lowers you to the bed, placing your head carefully on the pillow. He thrusts into you a few more times before he presses his forehead to your shoulder and moans quietly, cumming a second time inside the condom.

He rolls off of you rather quickly, carefully pulling out and taking off the condom, tying it nicely. He lays there for a moment longer, and you listen to the rate of his breathing, the heat of his body so close, and you want to scoot closer and take advantage of his body heat, but you stay where you are.

After another minute or two, Taeyong gets up to dispose of the condom, and you shiver without his body warmth, but he’s already told you his rule: no cuddling after sex to keep it casual. But he notices you’re cold, and when he starts digging around for his discarded boxers, he throws one of your blankets over your legs. You hear him moving around the room and his phone makes a chiming noise.

“What are you doing?” You roll across the bed, kicking at the blanket he put over your legs. Taeyong walks across the room until he’s standing in the far corner, still staring at his phone. “Taeyong, what are you doing?”

He glances up, takes a moment to look down the line of your body, then looks back at his phone. “Playing Pokemon Go. You’ve got a Pokestop right there,” He points at the outside wall. “I was trying to get closer to it.”

“You’re such a geek.” You roll your eyes and sit up, covering your chest when he looks over at you again and smirks when he notices you hiding your body.

“I’ve seen it already. Why are you hiding?” He slides his phone into his pocket. You blush and drop your arms, but you reach for a sweatshirt draped over the headboard and pull it on. Taeyong sits down at your desk and slides his shirt over his head, then drags his pants over to put them on. “Do you want to come back with me? We can play one of the new games I bought earlier this week, and Johnny’s boring when he comes home sad and drunk. I’m wired, I need to do something fun.”

You fold your arms over your chest and watch him. Taeyong definitely seems like he’s buzzing with energy, and while you kind of want to just roll over and go to sleep, his offer of playing video games does sound like fun. And besides, it’s not even later. Only a little after midnight.

“Sure, sounds like fun. But you’re buying me some snacks and a drink at the cafeteria.” You stand up and find a pair of leggings to pull on. “You just made me expend so much energy.”

Taeyong laughs and messes his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say.”

o 0 o

After that, hooking up with Taeyong becomes a pretty regular thing. At least once a week, usually more. It happens when you’re in his dorm room, sneaking in a quick orgasm on his fingers when Johnny leaves to shower, or sucking him off quietly in the rare moments when your roommate leaves the room. You meet up with Taeyong one late morning when he doesn’t have class until after noon, and he fucks you in the communal shower, hand over your mouth to cover your moans.

You don’t tell anyone what you’re doing with each other, especially not Johnny.

Johnny has enough going on in his life at the moment. That night at the party, after you and Taeyong snuck off, Johnny got even more drunk, made out with a senior guy in the middle of the party until Jaehyun came over to break it up because Johnny was kinda making a scene. Jaehyun wanted to take care of his friend, so he left the party with Johnny and spent the next few hours driving Johnny around town, talking, and stopping to get them food and coffee to sober him up.

This was all reported to you the next morning when Jaehyun dropped a relatively sober Johnny back off at the dorm. You were running on energy drinks, hands glued to a controller, eyes burned open by the game screen, Taeyong sitting identically beside you. You both probably looked like zombies when Jaehyun helped Johnny through the door.

As soon as Jaehyun left Johnny didn’t stop telling you and Taeyong about his night. He told you that he and Jaehyun watched the sunrise together, which was romantic, and Jaehyun thought he was cute and funny.

Since then he’d been flip-flopping between ecstatic about what he pretty much considered a date with Jaehyun, and depressed because he wasn’t sure if Jaehyun was even into guys.

He certainly didn’t need the added drama of knowing about you and Taeyong’s friends with benefits relationship. But whether either of you wanted him to find out or not, Johnny did.

He was supposed to be on the radio, so you and Taeyong figured you were in the clear. You were getting close to your period and you were super horny because of the hormones, and Taeyong was more than pleased to help out.

Taeyong had just shimmied out of his shorts, and you’d just sat up to take his cock into your mouth when the door flew open.

Johnny stumbles through the door backwards, his attention preoccupied by the fact that he was sucking Jaehyun’s face, and the younger man had his hands down the front of Johnny’s pants. All four of you pause, letting the shock of the moment sink in before everyone blurs into motion.

Jaehyun’s ears and cheeks go bright pink. Johnny takes three steps away from Jaehyun. Taeyong sits down on the edge of the bed and attempts to cover his erection. You roll over and yank Taeyong’s sheets up over your face.

“Aren’t you both supposed to be on the radio right now?” Taeyong asks, trying to tamp down the shaking in his voice, but you can hear it clearly. “What are you doing here? Also, when the hell did this happen?”

You hear the groaning of Johnny’s bed as he sits down on the mattress. Johnny explains, “Student Government is doing a radio-a-thon or something where people call in and donate money. Jae and I decided to go eat since they didn’t need us, and it turns out he likes me too.”

You don’t even have to look out from beneath the blankets to known that Johnny’s smiling ridiculously big. You can hear it in his voice. Taeyong shifts on the bed, and then the pillow right above your head is jerked away and you hear him say “I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy for you and Y/N, too,” Johnny says. “I was wondering when you’d finally get together.”

That gets you to sit upright, pushing the covers away. “We’re not together. This is just casual. Friends with benefits. It’s just sex, like I’m definitely not in love with Taeyong.” You realize that you’d dropped the sheet down your bare chest only when you see Jaehyun’s gaze lower to your boobs. You jerk the sheet up to cover you again, and say, “This is embarrassing though.”

“So you’re not dating? Just fucking?” Johnny asks at the same time that Jaehyun points at the door and says, “I’m think I’m going to leave.” Johnny grabs his hand and pulls him down to sit on his bed and doesn’t let him up. But he doesn’t look away from you and Taeyong either.

Taeyong glances over his shoulder at you, then he looks back at Johnny. “Don’t you think we’d tell you if this was anything real? It’s just stress relief. A way to get off that’s not hard to find and that’s not just masturbating.” You nod behind him, and Johnny frowns. “Johnny, it’s not like we’re really trying to hide it from you. It’s just not important.”

And then you’re frowning at the back of Taeyong’s head. Not important? You may just be fucking around with each other, but you never thought it wasn’t important. Taeyong is your best friend, and you thought you meant something to him too. But not important?

You lean over the bed, trying to grab your shirt without showing off any more of your skin. You tug your shirt on and then kick the covers away.

“I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Taeyong asks, his face falling as he watches you move around the room and gather the rest of your clothes up.

You look up from where you’re trying to pick your socks up off the floor. “Seriously? Did you think I’d stay here and have sex when Johnny and Jaehyun are right there?” You flick your gaze over at the two of them. Johnny’s stroking his fingers over the back of Jaehyun’s hand, and Jaehyun’s got a concerned look on his face as he whispers something to Johnny. “It’s getting late anyway and I have an essay I should be finishing up.”

You slip your shorts up your legs and jam your feet into your shoes.

“I thought you could at least stay and play–” Taeyong starts to say, but you cut him off.

“I have more important things to do than that, Tae.” You run your fingers through your hair and walk towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow or the day after. Later, Johnny. Nice meeting you, Jaehyun. Sorry I can’t stay around to chat.”

And then you’re gone.

o 0 o

For the next week, you barely see Taeyong. Just in passing on campus. It’s not that you’re mad at him necessarily, that all faded a few hours after you left the dorm room. You’re just upset and hurt, a bit offended that he called you having sex not important. And you know that he didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it probably, but it hurts all the same.

For the first time in three years, you don’t go over to his and Johnny’s room that weekend. You get a missed call and a text reading:

from taeyong: I’ve got take out and cheat codes to help you beat that level if you want to come over and try it again

and when you don’t respond, you get a text from Johnny. It’s just a picture of a cute, sad puppy. Nothing else, just that.

The next day you meet up with Johnny for dinner before he goes to the radio station. You pick at your food and roll your eyes when his phone goes off with a text or a Snapchat from Jaehyun every minute. You’re happy that he finally got the cute boy of his dreams, but you’re just in a mood and you know it, but that doesn’t mean you can change it.

“You’re both being so annoying,” Johnny says after about ten minutes. He stabs his fork into his food. “Both you and Taeyong are being moody assholes, and you need to get over it. I know you’re mad at him because of what he said when Jae and I walked in on you. For the record, both of us told him that he’d been a little bit of a dick, but it’s been a week. I’m tired of you not coming over to the room.

“And every time I’m there, Tae’s just sitting in his bed playing games on his phone or on his laptop or the TV. He hasn’t surfaced all week, I’m not sure where he’s peeing or if he’s showered. It’s gross and it’s because you haven’t talked to him. So, please, fix him. If not for his sake then for mine because I can’t stand it any longer.” Johnny stares at you for a moment longer.

You sigh and push your plate away completely.

Quietly, Johnny asks you, “Is it because you like him?”

You frown. “No, okay. He came to me for sex first.” You think back to that first night when you gave him the blowjob. “Well, sort of. It’s complicated, Johnny. But there’s no feelings involved, not from me. I’m not in love with him, I just love him as my best friend who I have sex with sometimes. And it doesn’t have to be more. But when he said that what we were doing wasn’t important, I just felt hurt, and he’s made no effort to apologize.”

“So you just want him to apologize? Then things will be good again?”

You nod, although you’re not even sure if that’s entirely true.

Johnny sighs and leans back in his chair with a smile. “So now that that’s over, do you want to talk about it? I’ve always been a little bit curious?”

“What, do you mean Taeyong’s dick?” You ask, feeling a smile growing on your lips. “Or just the sex?”

He leans forward again, grinning conspiratorially, “Whatever you want to tell me about.”

o 0 o

The next time you see Taeyong is on a Wednesday, exactly two weeks after you last spoke to him. To be honest, you’d begun wondering if Johnny had passed on the message that you just wanted Taeyong to apologize. If he hadn’t you were going to shout at him because two days had passed since you and Johnny talked. And now more than ever you wanted Taeyong.

You were so horny. Just the simpleness of seeing Taeyong at a distance on campus had you throbbing, imagining his tongue between your folds, his fingers sliding into you and stretching you open. You were going mad with desire, and if he didn’t come apologize soon you were going to go looking for dick elsewhere.

You text Johnny that warning, and he must have relayed that message because not even two hours later, you see Taeyong again.

He’s on the wrong side of campus to be heading to his class. He struts down the hallway, turning heads because he’s got the face of an angel but it’s painted in anger. As soon as he spots you, his anger seemingly intensifies and he heads straight for you.

“Tae, what are you doing here?” You ask when he’s within earshot.

Nothing changes on his expression. You would almost think that he hadn’t heard you. Taeyong’s arm grips your wrist, sliding down to lace your fingers together, and he keeps walking, leading you in the opposite direction from where you were going.

He leads you down the hallway, through another and another until you’re deep inside the building.

You jerk on his arm. “Taeyong, where are we going?”

It’s then that he pulls you sideways through a door. A bathroom. Taeyong releases your arm and starts checking under the stall doors. When he finds them all empty, he returns to stand in front of you, a few feet apart. He presses his back against the wall, folds his arms over his chest, and stares at you. You face him with your back against the row of sinks.

And at last, he speaks. “Johnny said you want me to apologize.”

You nod.

“Johnny also said you told him that if I don’t apologize, you’re going to go fuck someone else.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t you know you can’t do that?”

You lift your chin. “Don’t you remember your own rules? As soon as either person wants to end this, wants to see other people, it’s over.” You press your palms against the cool surface of the sink. “Well, it’s over. You’ve taken too long to apologize and I’m over this.”

Taeyong takes a frustrated step forward. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

He clenches his fists at his sides and turns away for a moment. He doesn’t move, but you can see how tense he is, every muscle in his back wound up with pent up energy.

“Why?” That one word forces its way out and then the rest come spilling after. “Why can’t I decide that I don’t want to be your fuckbuddy anymore? Why can’t I decide that I don’t want you to tell me that I’m not important to you? Why can’t I want to go find someone else who knows what they’re doing, someone who will kiss me, who will do everything you did but better and with no regrets?”

Taeyong spins around and closes the distance between you. His hands come up to cup your face and he crushes his mouth against yours. It takes a moment, a flat-lined head-buzzy stunned moment for you to kiss him back, for you to touch your hands to his forearms, for you to open your mouth to his kiss.

He’s kissing you and you’re kissing him. After everything you’ve done together, this should be nothing.

Still, you feel your body filling with heat, a soft glowing feeling rushing through your veins. As his tongue slides against yours and his fingers push into your hair, you moan and want to be closer.

You drop your hands to his belt buckle and get to work, unfastening it and then pushing his pants down. Your mouths part for a moment when Taeyong gasps at the feel of your hand brushing against his cock, but then he’s pushing his mouth over yours again, biting your bottom lip just to hear you whine. You spread your legs and he drops his hands to rest on either side of your hips, he shifts forward between your thighs.

“God bless skirts,” he says, and you want to laugh, but you kiss him again instead, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth and then sucking on it. Taeyong’s hands dive under your skirt, touching you over your panties, finding you wet when he pushes the fabric aside, and he teases you by saying, “Have you missed me that much?”

You lean away when he goes to kiss you. “It’s not too late for me to go find someone else. Mind your tongue or I’ll find someone who won’t talk back to me.”

Taeyong retaliates by sliding his fingers into you. He grins as you moan, so tight around him, warm and wet. Not that he’ll tell you, but he’s missed that feeling just as much as you have. He pecks the corner of your mouth. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

And you know he’s right.

“I want you inside me.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, and Taeyong looks up from his fingers disappearing under your skirt. His eyes are sharp and full of lust, but for a moment they look soft and needy as he measures the level of desire in your eyes.

“I don’t have a condom,” He says, and his fingers falter inside of you. “Fuck, I want to, though.”

You lean forward and capture his lips, silencing him for a moment. It’s nice kissing him, soft with just a little bite of lust. You scratch your fingers lightly over the back of his neck, and when he makes a quiet moan, you break the kiss.

“Just this once.” You tell him. “Just this once, you can cum inside of me without the condom.”

He wastes no more time getting his dick out, his hands on your thighs spread them further apart, and you twist your arms around his shoulders. Taeyong moves slow when he pushes into you, stretching you open on his cock like you haven’t had in two weeks. You’ve missed that. The familiarity of him inside you, his thumb gravitating toward your clit when he bottoms out, fully sheathed inside of you.

“Oh, God.” You whine.

“I love that sound,” Taeyong laughs, pulling back just enough that he can push inside you again and hear you make the sound once more. His thumb slides in circles over your clit and he fucks into you, using his one hand to press your legs apart as he hurriedly picks up the pace, hips slapping against you.

You hold him close, and when he shifts just right and his cock hits against that spot that fills you with pleasure, you bite down on his shoulder. Taeyong grunts and doubles his efforts, pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He growls against your lips. “I want you to cum.”

And you do because he asks you to, because his tongue in your mouth and his thumb on your clit, his cock gliding right over your G-spot, all sends you over the edge. You bite down on his shoulder again to stifle your moans as you quake and pulse around him, your walls pulling him in deeper.

Taeyong grunts and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as tight against him as possible, and his hips jerk forward as he empties himself inside of you. His cum is warm inside you and you make a contented noise, curling your legs around his hips to keep him there.

His heart races against yours, and you tilt your head to the side on his shoulder, letting your eyes drift closed so all you have to anchor you there is the sound of his heart, the heat of his body, the feel of his arms holding you just as tightly as you’re holding him.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong says after a few moments. “I’m sorry for what I said that night about this not being important. I was just trying to get him to stop looking at us like that, so I panicked and said that, which is so far from the truth.

“You are important to me, Y/N.” He kisses your hair. “I never want you to think that you aren’t.”

Distantly, you hear the squeak of shoes on tile, of voices echoing in the hallway outside. You sigh and push your face against his shoulder. You’d be happy with never moving, just staying wrapped together (because goddamnit Johnny was right about the feelings).

“We should probably go before someone walks in and finds us like this.” You murmur, but you make no move to leave. “And you should take your cock out of me.”

Taeyong holds you tighter. “But this feels nice. I fucking missed you.”

You hide your smile in his shoulder. “I missed you too, you dork.”

o 0 o

The end of the semester and the start of summer rolls closer and closer, slowly eating the days until suddenly, all at once, there it is.

Finals week largely consisted of you and Taeyong fucking between studying for exams and taking the exams. Stress relief at its finest. A wonderful distraction from any worries about exams or final papers, from summer jobs or lack thereof, from the feelings you’ve been catching more and more over the last few weeks.

You try to forget the way that Taeyong’s smile and silly faces make you want to laugh. You try to ignore the racing of your heart when you watch his fingers racing over keyboards or video game controls. You want to completely erase the fact that when you dream, more often than not it’s about Taeyong, and when you daydream about a future, you see him beside you. You try to lose all of that by fucking him until you’re exhausted, but you still want more because he’s Taeyong and you love him, every dumb and silly part of him.

You love him because he’s the first person you see after you get out of your last exam one evening.

Taeyong’s sitting in the hall outside of your class, his tongue sticking out between his lips in determination as he concentrates on his phone, playing some game that he likes to tell you about when you’re laying there together after sex. He’s got two drinks and a small cupcake box sitting beside him, and when you stop in front of him, Taeyong looks up at you with a bright smile.

“How’d you do?” He slides his phone out of sight, and grabs one of the drinks to pass it up to you. “I’m sure you did great. And I got this cupcake for you. It’s your favorite flavor, and I saw it sitting there in the case when I bought these, so I thought of you. I figured, it’s either a celebration or a sympathy cupcake, but either way it’ll taste good.”

You accept the cupcake from him and have to quell down the hot air balloon trying to take flight in your chest. The cupcake is such a simple thing, a small gesture, but you’re reminded again that you love him. And he still doesn’t know.

“Taeyong, I want to–”

He stands up suddenly and takes your hand, starts walking off with you coming along quickly beside him. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going now? Another bathroom?” You tease.

Taeyong smirks over at you, “We could if you wanted to, but that’s not what I had in mind.”

He leads you out of the building as the sun sets over the campus, casting long blue shadows. In the distance, at the center of campus, you can hear the echo of music, and between the buildings you see the flicker light of the end of semester bonfire. Taeyong holds your hand tighter and leads you toward it.

Professors and students alike gather on the green at the center of campus. A table is weighed down with food, getting lighter every minute, as hungry students fill plates with free food. Jaehyun and Johnny stand on a small stage, arms around each others shoulders, talking into microphones and looking out over the crowd.

Taeyong comes to a stop, and it’s only when you’ve gone a step too far that you realize he’s no longer walking. He gestures over to one of dozens of blankets laid out on the ground a safe distance back from the bonfire, and you sit down with him, close enough that your knees are touching.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but rests it on his knee. And you watch him, feeling your pulse pick up speed each time that his thumb moves against the back of your hand. The orange firelight plays shadows across his face, and for once Taeyong seems serious and nervous as he starts fiddling with your fingers.

“Tae, what’s up?” You ask quietly.

He looks up, lets his gaze flicker past you, and then he’s gazing into your eyes. He licks his bottom lip and then says, “I’m in love with you. Which is stupid because starting out I was the one who said no feelings should be involved, but if I’m being honest, it’s been a lie from the start. I was probably in love with you before that first night. I’ve probably been in love with you since you fell into my lap at freshman orientation. I understand if you want to stop this all now, like I really, really don’t want to lose you, but you didn’t sign on for feelings.”

That hot air balloon in your chest from earlier expands again, and this time you don’t bother trying to stop it. You let the fire go and lift your heart.

You giggle and then you’re laughing and Taeyong’s frowning and half-smiling because he’s confused. But then you climb into his lap and take his face between your hands.

“Lee Taeyong, you’re a fool if you think that I’m not also one hundred percent, totally in love with you too.” You tell him.

And when your lips meet his, you can no longer tell what is the burning heat of your emotions flooding through your veins and what is the heat of the bonfire, the crackling and licking of the flames is drowned out by the thundering of your heart as Taeyong wraps his arms around your hips and kisses you back with equal fervor.

Neither of you pay much attention to the whistling and cheering as two DJs on a stage notice the couple confessing their love by the bonfire. Johnny and Jaehyun encourage the entire crowd to chant your names and until you tuck your face into Taeyong’s chest, embarrassed but happy. So, so happy.

[The End]

#taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong smut #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fanfic #taeyong x reader #nct taeyong #taeyong nct #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct fanfiction #nct fanfic

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prophetandprincess · 5 years

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X X X X X X X

It’s slow going, but I haven’t abandoned this fic I promise! Life and original fiction are keeping me from getting a lot of progress done. However, after seeing Endgame I have SO MANY IDEAS for where Alex is going to go. Don’t you worry

Alex was surprised how close Peter lived to the Malone's as she followed Google Maps to the address that he had texted her. Peter, due to his sudden and unexplained departure that afternoon, had left his clothes in her bathroom so Alex had washed and dried them when she did her own laundry. After her little pity party on the couch, she decided that the easiest thing to do to make herself feel better was clean the apartment. Once she started, she couldn't stop, and when she left everything was spotless. Her heart still ached, but she did feel a little calmer.

The Parker house was a rather charming row house, practical in a neighborhood as crowded as Queens. Alex made sure she had the right address before mounting the steps and pressing the doorbell. She could see movement through the glass door, but it took a moment before it was opened.

"Oh, hello. You must be Alex," the woman at the door said with a kind smile, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Peter has told me so much about you. Please, come in."

"And you must be Aunt May, it's nice to meet you." Alex gave her best farm girl smile as she walked inside. "Peter said that you were working at the hospital today, I hope us being here isn't too much trouble. I brought some wine to go with dinner."

Aunt May was about four inches shorter than Alex, with brown hair streaked with grey, and soft brown eyes. There was some family resemblance between her and Peter, mostly in the eyes, and Alex liked May instantly. Without even trying, she had made Alex feel safe and comfortable, which was no small feat these days. May had to be an excellent nurse.

"Oh, not at all dear," May laughed as she accepted the bottle of wine. "Peter said he wanted to order in, but spaghetti and meatballs isn't all that hard to make. This wine will go perfectly with it. Peter is finishing something up in his room, why don't you just go up? I already called up to let him know you were here, but apparently I'm chopped liver. Dinner will be ready soon."

Alex gave her a smile before excusing herself and heading up the narrow staircase. It wasn't hard to figure out which room was Peter's, it was the one with the door closed. She knocked. There was some shuffling, a crash, some cursing, and then the door opened a crack to reveal a very flustered Peter Parker.

"Harper, hey, hi, right, we were supposed to work on the project tonight," Peter said, looking up and down the hallway as if he hadn't expected her at all.

"Everything alright in there?" Alex asked with a board grin, tilting her head to the side. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"

"What? No, no of course not. Just…give me a second," Peter closed the door and then opened it again, "Please."

Alex shook her head as she stood in the darken hallway after the door closed again, taking a minute to look at the family photos that were hung on the wall. There was Peter from chubby cheeked child to lanky teenager and then a well-proportioned adult. Aunt May didn't go through as dramatic a transformation, but one did happen, along with a man that Alex had to assume was Peter's uncle. Once again she wondered what happened to Peter's parents, even though it really wasn't her place to ask such a painful question, she couldn't help but be curious.

"Alright, come on in," Peter said as he threw the door open all the way, smiling. "Sorry about that, but it was a bit of a mess."

"And you've cleaned?" Alex asked as she walked into the chaos that was Peter's bedroom. The bed was made, which was probably what he had been doing while she waited in the hallway. That was the only organized and clean area in the whole cramped room. Papers, books, and piles of clothing were everywhere. Then again, Alex hadn't exactly been keeping her apartment clean recently, so who was she to judge.

"So, this midterm project, have you even looked at it yet? Because, I'm going to be honest with you, I might have lost the paper," Peter plopped down on his desk chair and indicated that Alex was welcome to the bed.

"I've looked over the instructions like…once? I know that there is a paper that needs to be written and raw data that we need to run through…something?" Alex dropped her backpack and reached into it for her binder, pulling out Peter's shirt and jeans. "You forgot these earlier, by the way."

"Right, sorry," Peter took the clothes and after digging a paper out of the jeans pocket, he tossed them into a hamper across the room. "This is for you, by the way. I meant to give it to you earlier. I hope the ink hasn't run too badly."

"What is it?" Alex asked as she took the slip of paper and was able to read a pretty badly smudged phone number. "Are you trying to set me up with a date or with a therapist?"

"While you probably need both, neither. There was this girl posting flyers at the student union, apparently she needs some cash and fluent in Russian. She seemed cool and I know you're stressed about that class so," Peter shrugged as he rummaged for his biochemistry notebook. "The paper part of this project shouldn't be too much of a problem, but running all this data, we're going to need some time with the specialized computers in the lab."

"I'll look into getting us some dedicated time," Alex quickly braided her hair as she looked over the assignment sheet. "We can get most of this paper done without even looking at the data. The introduction and lit review sections should be a piece of cake, and we can probably a bit of the method section done as well."

"Except if we miss even a period, Warren is going to dock us the maximum number of points," Peter sighed as he grabbed a pen and started scribbling notes. "So, how do you want to divide this up?"

Over the next half an hour, they carefully read through the project, decided on a game plan, and divided up the work. Alex was actually starting to feel that this assignment might not be too painful, if they stayed on top of it. Peter even started to make an outline when Alex got off the bed to stretch, coming to look over his shoulder while his fingers flew over the keyboard. Her eyes landing on a framed picture to the right of the monitor, a pretty blonde smiling at something out of the shot.

"Girlfriend?" Alex asked as she picked up the frame. Peter has never mentioned that he was dating, but Alex also had never asked. Maybe it was a long distance relationship? High School sweethearts that went to different colleges?

"Ah," Peter's eyes slid away from the screen and then back at the computer, though his fingers didn't start moving again. "She used to be."

There was something in the way that Peter spoke, the tone of his voice and the articulation of the words that made Alex's heart drop. The girl in the picture, whoever she was, had died. Peter didn't have to say anything else for her to know that. Alex wanted to ask so many things, but all of them were completely insensitive. Instead, she studied the picture, the wide smile and carefree attitude. Her heart ached for Peter. She knew James was still alive, he was calling her and she could still hear his voice. He wasn't gone forever, well in a permanent sense at least. Peter didn't have that burden, whether it was a blessing or a curse.

"What was her name?" Alex set the picture frame down, her hand gripping onto the back of the chair as a sign of being there for him.

"Gwen," Peter's voice was so soft, Alex barely heard him. "Her name was Gwen."

Peter smiled a little as he looked at the picture, a finger reaching out to trace the outline of Gwen's face. He had loved her, a lot. It was written on every line of his body and the way tears welled up a little in the corner of his eyes. Alex understood that feeling well, the ache that made it almost impossible to breathe.

"Peter!" Aunt May called, making them both jump. "Dinner is ready."

"Do you need help with anything?" Alex asked as they came down the stairs to see Aunt May set a basket of garlic bread on the table. A wave of homesickness hit Alex, which she hadn't expected. She missed family dinners at the farmhouse, the dogs fighting to get what little space there was underneath the table in case anything dropped.

"I do," May smiled as she headed back toward the kitchen. "Peter, come and help me in the kitchen. Alex is our guest and should help herself."

Peter shot Alex a look, but followed his Aunt into the kitchen. Alex sat down and started to load her plate up with pasta, salad, bread, and meatballs. Her mouth was watering from just the smell of the garlic bread. Other than when she went out with Steve, the most nutritious thing Alex had to eat at her apartment was hot pockets. It was easy to hear a whispered conversation going on in the kitchen, probably about her, but she attempted to ignore it.

"Sorry for the wait, I needed help with the cork," Aunt May said as she and Peter came back into the dining room. The blush on Peter's cheeks made it obvious the wine cork wasn't all that had been giving him grief.

"It's alright, I've just been sitting here trying not to eat all the food. It looks delicious." Alex gave Peter a knowing smile, tilting her head to the side and raising an eyebrow while he filled her wine glass. Peter just gave her a little head shake before going over to fill the rest of the glasses.

"So, Alex, tell me about yourself," Aunt May said as she sat down, ignoring Peter's groan. "What? I want to know about your friends. You rarely bring them over to the house."

Over a very delicious meal, Alex gave Aunt May the parent approved version of her past. It wasn't as exciting without the motorcycle gang, string of criminal ex-boyfriends, and all the other torrid things she had done in her youth, but May looked intrigued and asked questions now and again. May even told some stories of her own from the hospital where she worked.

"I've always told myself that I really should take a basic first aid course," Alex said as she helped herself to another helping of food. "I took a course back when I was a Girl Scout for a badge, but I don't really remember much and I have a lot of clumsy friends."

"I would be more than happy to teach you a thing or two. These days, with Peter out of the house so much, I'm always trying to find something to keep busy." Aunt May laughed. "But maybe you should tell your friends to be a bit more careful."

Alex and Peter shared a look over their wine glasses, but chose to keep their comments to themselves. She hadn't meant Peter specifically, in fact, though the shoes probably felt extremely well. No, it was the face of the dead girl the year before had prompted the statement, but it was still fun to make Peter squirm a bit. Even if May knew that he was Spider-Man, which was not a conversation to have over meatballs, Alex doubted that Peter told her everything about his time crime-fighting.

"Honestly, Peter, I don't know what I'm going to do when you move out." May patted his hand before taking starting to collect the dirty dishes. "I've spent so long looking after you, it's basically been another full-time job."

"You're going to be just fine," Peter laughed. "You're going to go to loads of parties and on hot dates and forget all about me. I'll be getting snapchats of you dancing on top of tables and doing body shots."

"Snap what?" Aunt May looked confused at the door of the kitchen, looking from Alex to Peter. They both broke out laughing.

"It's an app," Peter explained as he helped clean up the table while Alex finished up her second plate of food.

Alex wondered if Peter had told Aunt May about the application for the foreign exchange program or not. They only had each other and seemed very open with one another, but Alex also knew how hard it was to tell your family something that you knew they weren't going to support. When she was accepted to NYU and her parents told her they weren't comfortable with her going to New York, Alex kind of just left the house one day with her things and gave them a call from the airport.

Peter was still attempting to explain what Snapchat was when they returned to the dining room, carrying plates of chocolate cake. After topping up their wine glasses, explanation resumed, and by the end of their meal they had taken a couple pictures together with filters. They had to stop when one of the filters made them look as if they were in a Funhouse mirror and Aunt May laughed so hard she started crying.

"Okay, okay," Peter wiped his own eyes and put his own phone away. "We have to finish a few more things for this assignment before it gets too late."

"Is this that Professor that's giving you a hard time?" Aunt May's voice had a little bite as she finished cleaning up the dining room. "Do I have to call and speak with him?"

"You know," Peter said as he ate the last piece of his cake with his fingers, "that might not be a bad idea."

"Peter, really!" May chided before turning to Alex. "I swear that he had manners as a child. I don't know where he gets this from. I'm sure your boyfriend isn't such a slob."

"Aunt May," Peter groaned, mouth full of chocolate cake and some icing on his lips.

"I don't have a boyfriend and my previous relationships have left a lot to be desired in terms of manners," Alex gave May a smile. There was something kind of endearing about adults embarrassing their children, especially when it was someone else getting embarrassed.

"Oh, did you hear that Peter? She's single." Aunt May gave him a look before disappearing into the kitchen.

"We're never speaking about this ever again." Peter was practically pink, rubbing his hand over his face. "Never. Those last couple minutes never happened."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Parker." Alex smiled brightly before she got to her feet.

"Thank you," Peter finished his wine.

"Sure thing." Alex gave him a pat on the shoulder as she got up from her chair. "I totally won't bring up the fact that your aunt basically just asked me out on your behalf to benefit me in some way in the future. The thought never even crossed my mind."

Peter groaned as he slid to his feet and started up the stairs. Honestly, Alex was a little flattered that Aunt May deemed her worthy of Peter's affections. She seemed very protective and Alex didn't exactly look like the girl next door. Not like Gwen, who Peter had obviously been in love with. Maybe May was desperate for Peter to be happy in whatever form he could find.

They worked for another couple hours before they really couldn't get any further on the project without the data and doing some research. Both of them were also dead tired and had spent the last half hour complaining about everything they had to do instead of actually doing it. As Alex started to pack up, she hoped that the alcohol and the mental strain she would be able to sleep once she got home.

"I should probably get going," Alex said as she got to her feet and stretched. "I would hate to overstay my welcome."

"I'll walk you home," Peter jumped to his feet in some fluid movement, not a pop or a crack from his joints. Apparently doing acrobatic routines that would make Cirque du Soleil jealous while fighting crime made him immune to the same joint problems everyone else had.

"You don't need to do that." Alex laughed as she headed for the bedroom door. "It's only a couple of blocks to the subway station and it's just a hop, skip, and jump to my apartment. No need for you to waste an hour or so of your life."

"Hop, skip, and a jump? That's adorable and very Midwest of you," Peter pulled on a hoodie and followed her down the stairs. "Besides, I can get you home a lot faster than the subway, with a much better view of the city."

"I mean, we're still due for that conversation about...well...you know," Alex pointed out, trailing off when Aunt May got off the couch and walked over to them.

"There is a container of chocolate cake on the kitchen counter for you," May said with a smile. "It was nice to meet you, though I have to admit, you're not what I expected. When Peter talked about his brilliant lab partner I was thinking of someone more…"

"Normal? Not tattooed and had more metal in her ears that some common household appliances? Yeah, I get that a lot," Alex laughed, leaning against the banister while Peter tugged on his shoes. "And between the two of us, Peter is the brilliant one. I'm copying his notes half the time."

"That's only because you're asleep half the time," Peter pointed out. "Come on, we'll head out the back door so you can collect that cake."

Peter kissed Aunt May on the cheek before leading Alex through the house and out the back door, swiping the cake on the way. It actually felt like an autumn night, the air cold and crisp, as they walked into the postage stamp backyard. Instead of heading out of the gate, Peter waved Alex over to a little shed.

"How do you work like this?" Alex asked as they stepped into what was obviously a small workshop, taking in the chaos around her.

"I've been kind of busy recently, so housekeeping hasn't been my main priority," Peter rubbed the back of his neck as Alex pushed some things on the work table around to get a better look.

"I feel like even if you had all the time in the world, it would still look like this," Alex laughed.

"Okay, that's true, but also rude," Peter walked over and sat down on his little red stool, wheeling over to whatever he was working on underneath a illuminated magnifying glass.

Alex realized that the workshop was a visual representation of Peter's brain, scattered and crowded, but sprinkled with brilliance and all working toward a purpose. The current purpose was new wristlets that seemed to hold his webbing material and it seemed like a very complex operation. They were delicate little devices, the small mechanisms the reason he had to work on them underneath magnification. Delicate mechanical operations were not Alex's forte, but she bet Monica would be drooling at the mouth to see the interworking on Peter's gear.

"Why are you making a new set?" Alex asked as she leaned in closer so she could watch him work.

"These ones," Peter flashed his wrists to show his current set, "are good, but I am trying to improve the accuracy and holding capacity. Right now, they can only hold two canisters, which puts me in a sticky situation for a long battle or a lot of swinging. I want to be able to carry up to five canisters, as well as adding a few other tricks and upgrades. Unfortunately, between crime and school work, it's been slow going."

"You'd think criminals would be more conscious of your GPA." Alex watched fascinated as Peter picked up a small screwdriver and tightened something. She had a hard time understanding how such a clumsy man could do such delicate work.

"They are so inconsiderate sometimes," Peter laughed softly, not looking away from his work.

"So," Alex turned around to study the rest of the little bits in the shed, "when are we going to talk about how you became a superhero? Get sick of kids making fun of you for taking gymnastics so you started fighting crime?"

"It's a long story," Peter sighed as he traded out the screwdriver for a tiny spray can of something, "but the short version is that I got bit by a radioactive spider and now I have super powers."

"Please tell me that you're joking," Alex said with a small laugh.

Peter just looked up at her and gave a little shake of his head. Alex didn't know how to process that information. It just sparked so many questions. The first question being where the hell did he run into a radioactive spider. This was New York, and it wasn't the cleanest city in the world, but radioactive spider was a little out there. Plague ridden rat, she would be able to believe. The second question was more of her scientific mind at work, how did a spider bite give him powers and not just kill him?

"Well, that just reinforces my rule of never trusting those eight legged, eight eyed bastards," Alex finally said with a shrug. "Like, who needs that many legs and eyes? It's excessive."

Peter stopped working and looked up at her, surprise written all over his face. Alex just tilted her head a little and raised an eyebrow, wondering why her distrust of spiders was so surprising. It was like God designed them to be evil. Then Peter just started laughing, pushing away from his work and running his hands through his hair.

"What about you?" Peter asked as he got up, apparently no longer needing something to do with his hands, and turned off the light.

"What about me?" Alex had no idea what he was talking about. "Last time I checked, being able to stand you wasn't a superpower. Unless you're talking about walking in heels and a short dress?. It's not exactly scaling walls."

"I mean, depending on who you ask, both are super powers," Peter pointed out as he locked up the shed, "but what I meant was you said 'not again' when you unmasked me. Do you make it a point of ruining people's secret identities? If so, I'm sure that NYPD would love to give you a job."

"No, but I have a bad habit of finding them out, without meaning to. Honestly, the less I have to do with superheroes, the better."

"You work at Stark Industries, under Dr. Banner. That's like an alcoholic walking into a bar and just sitting there looking at the bottles," Peter shook his head. "You're a very strange woman, Alexandra Harper. Honestly, I'm starting to worry about your overall sanity."

"Says the man who just told me he was bitten by a radioactive spider and, instead of going to a hospital, decided to fight crime in spandex instead," Alex laughed. She understood where Peter was coming from, but she really and truly didn't want anything to do with superheroes or Hydra. Stark Industries was purely for her career, not because she wanted to be around the Avengers. Why couldn't people separate the two? Hundred of people worked for Stark Industries who never even laid eyes on the Avengers.

"It's…it is a little bit more complicated than that," Peter sighed as they got to the front of the house. "I'm going to run in and see if Aunt May needs me to pick anything up before we head out. Give me a second."

Alex waited at the bottom of the porch steps as Peter slip back inside. There was the flash from the television, but Aunt May must have been asleep or laying down on the couch since Alex couldn't see her head. Peter's face softened and he pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and presumably draped it over her. It was all very sweet. Alex wondered why Peter wanted to go to London when it was obvious he was devoted to his aunt.

"Come on, let's get going," Peter said as he came back out, locking the door behind him. "It's freezing out."

"You don't have to walk me, you know," Alex went to playfully punch Peter's shoulder. Peter's hand shot out and grabbed onto her wrist. It wasn't painful, but it stopped her from touching him. They looked at each other in shock.

"Sorry, sorry, quick reflexes," Peter let go of her just as quickly and looked embarrassed. "It's part of my powers, I can kind of sense things coming at me."

"Like…spider senses?" Alex tried to recover from her shock. Even though she knew he was Spider-man, it was easy to forget that he even had powers.

"Like what?" Peter asked, head tilted to the side.

"Well, whenever something is about to happen, you said you know beforehand. Like you sense it," Alex explained, though it was difficult to get out and she felt her cheeks heating up. "You're Spider-man, you have these senses, so their spider senses…spidey senses…Oh, never mind."

"Spidey senses…I kind of like it," Peter gave her a crooked smile as they walked toward the subway, "but don't ever say that in front of anyone else, though."

"Obviously," Alex smiled giving his shoulder a little shove, which he allowed this time. Who the hell else was she going to say it to? No one else knew that Peter was Spider-Man, but there was no reason arguing with him about it.

"I really like your aunt, but the way. She reminds me a bit of my mom, without the bite."

"I can't even imagine your mother," Peter laughed as they walked toward the subway station. "Like all I see is a carbon copy of you with like an apron and a rolling pin. It's a little disturbing."

"Grace Ann Harper is shorter than I am, a bit wider, has blonde hair streaked with grey, and a shotgun beside the back door that she can hit a groundhog with at 500 feet without even breaking a sweat," Alex explained with a smile. Again, a wave of unexpected homesickness washed over her. The small town and farm had always felt so stifling to her as a child, but it had really let her get herself together during the summer.

"Remind me not to stand at your back door," Peter smiled as he dug his cell phone out of his pocket, frowning at the screen. "Hey, there is something I have to do…"

"Okay, that's fine. Like I said, you don't need to walk me," Alex didn't like the serious look on Peter's face. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, there might be a small bank robbery that I need to stop, nothing major," Peter said as if he was mentioning stopping by to let a friend's dog out. "I can't let you walk home alone, thought, not after the other night. I'm just going to take you with me and leave you somewhere safe while I deal with this. It's no big deal."

"Excuse me? Are you insane?" Alex stopped walking, making Peter look at her. "How do you even know that there is a bank robbery happening?"

"I get the police updates on my phone." Peter put his arm around her shoulder, starting to move her down the sidewalk again.

"If the police know about it, why not just let them handle it?" Alex asked, though she let herself be dragged along.

"I don't have time to explain right now, but the weapons these guys are using are bad news bears. I'm better equipped to take care of it than the boys in blue." Peter looked around to see if anyone else was on the sidewalk. "You're going to be so mad about this."

Before Alex could say anything else, Peter picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. There was no time to even scream before they were catapulting up into the air. Her stomach settled in her mouth, but she stayed very still. From what she could see, they were suddenly very high off the ground and she didn't want to know what it felt like to be free falling toward the pavement. The whole experience was like being on the worst rollercoaster Alex could imagine without a seatbelt, rising and falling at inconsistent intervals.

Finally, the ride stopped and Alex opened her eyes to see that she was on the solid ground of a roof. Peter set Alex down softly, but her limbs were shaking so badly that she grabbed onto his neck to keep herself upright.

"You're choking me," Peter croaked as he pried her arms off his neck.

"Are you insane?" Alex finally got out, not sure how she was standing or where in the city she was. Looking for a landmark, her eyes focused on Stark Tower glowing in the distance. They somehow had gotten to Upper Manhattan in a matter of moments. The Hudson River was very close, but that still didn't make Alex feel as if she had any idea what was going on.

"You can yell at me later." Peter stripped out of his clothes in record speed.

Alex wasn't sure if she should watch him or look away, even though it was obvious that he had his suit on underneath his t-shirt and jeans. Was he ever not wearing that thing? It had to smell if that was the case, spandex was not a breathable material. Before she could even form any these thoughts into a question, Peter was tugged on his mask from his back pocket of his jeans, threw all the clothes at Alex, and leaping off the edge of the building.

It took Alex a couple heartbeats to figure out what happened, Peter's crumpled clothes in her arms, blinking up at the night sky. Curiosity finally pulled her over to the side of the roof to take in the scene below. There was a Chase Bank on the corner, surrounded by cop cars and officers trying to block off the area from bystanders. Peter was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected.

Now that Alex's stomach was settling back in it's appropriate position, she was cold and pissed. How dare Peter just pick her up like a sack of flour and drag her wherever he saw fit. Not only that, he had thrown his clothes at her! Alex wanted to drop them, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, so she folded them angrily instead. When Peter got back, she was going to tell him exactly what she thought about Spider-Man.

The sound of gunshots rang out and people down on the street screamed. Alex felt as if ice water had been dropped over her and the clothes slipped out of her fingers. She blinked and Nadia was pointing a gun at her, smiling as she pulled the trigger. It was a year ago, but all that fear and adrenaline and hate was coursing through her body as if she was right there.

The next time Alex was aware of herself, whatever happened down at the bank was over. A couple of officers were walking the supposed criminals out of the bank, hands behind their back, and white webbing all over their clothes. There were a couple unmarked cars among the flashing lights and even though she was far away, Alex could have sworn she saw Officer Sousa down on the sidewalk. How long had she just been standing there?

"It was all really excessive. Like, first of all, who robs banks with electric powered ray guns, which were thankfully malfunctioning, and hand grenades? Seriously?" Peter's voice came behind her, obviously in the middle of a rant she hadn't heard any of.

Alex spun around to see Peter pacing behind her, still in his suit, though he had pulled the mask off. Black soot was covering the spandex, which meant that at least one of the grenades had probably gone off, and there was a good sized rip in the right shoulder. Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped when he saw her expression.

"Is everything okay?" Peter walked over, putting his hands on her shoulders and held on a little tighter when he felt her trembling. "I know that swinging isn't for everyone, especially when you aren't used to it, but I thought you'd be fine. Oh, wait, are you scared of heights? I didn't even think about that. Sorry, if you are, I mean, I'll keep that in mind for the future. Not that I think I'll just throw you over my shoulder again in the future, as I think you might punch me, but these things are good to know. Alright, I'm really starting to get worried because you haven't told me to shut up."

"How long were you down there?" Alex asked, trying to figure out how much time she had lost.

"Oh, maybe fifteen to twenty minutes, at the most." Peter was gently rubbing her arms, speaking softly, concern written all over his face. "Why?"

"I…I dropped your clothes," Alex looked down at the pile on the edge of the roof. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it." Peter tilted his head to the side. Alex just gave him a little head shake of not now he let go of her and picked the items in question up.

"We should probably get out of here before the police start looking for you." Alex did not feel like explaining, even if she could explain this new fun thing her mind was doing. She felt numb and hollow and was having a hard time pulling herself back into reality, even now.

"You're not wrong. Come on, I'll give you a piggyback swing back home." Peter still looked extremely concerned, but there was a small smile on his face.

"Speaking of which, if you try to throw me over your shoulder like that again, I will break every one of your fingers until they light up like the little radioactive glow sticks that they are," Alex said, managing a shaky smile.

Peter watched her for a second longer before pulling on his clothes, tucking his mask into his back pocket. After getting everything situated, Peter crouched down and Alex got onto his back. There was some adjusting from Peter, mostly loosening the grip on his neck and shifting her legs on his hips. As Alex didn't want to fall to her death, she didn't make too many sounds of protest.

"I don't know if it's going to be better for you with your eyes open or closed, but we're about to jump," Peter said over his shoulder.

Before Alex could make a decision of what would be best, Peter ran and leapt off the roof. After getting used to the free falling aspect of it, which made her reflexively made her close her eyes, Alex enjoyed watching the city fly by around her. It took almost no time for Peter to be gently setting Alex down in an alley near her building.

"I could have just walked home," Alex said as they both adjusted their clothes and walked out onto the sidewalk. It probably looked suspect to anyone who saw them appear, faces flushed and clothes askew.

"You get in trouble when you're with a group of friends. I'm not going to let you out on your own," Peter laughed.

Alex was too tired to argue as she noticed that there were a number of cop cars outside the building. Fear gripped her and Alex started running toward the front door. What if something happened to Monica? Peter didn't ask any questions, just ran with her and they busted into the lobby.

"Miss Harper, oh thank god you weren't in your apartment. I didn't see you come in, but I was so worried I had missed you and…" Henry was explained in a hurried voice as he came over to Alex and Peter. "Oh, I'm so glad you're alright."

"What happened? Is Monica alright?" Alex asked in just as hurried a voice, speaking over the older man.

"Miss LeBlanc? She's fine, other than being worried about you." Henry seemed confused by the question.

"Why would she be worried about Alex?" Peter asked, the only one not completely panicked at the moment.

"Because it looks like a wild animal tore her apartment to shreds. It's a mess and we have no idea who did it," Henry explained, looking more worried than Alex had ever seen him. "I have no idea what could do something like that. It's almost supernatural."

#Marvel #A Spider Sat Down Beside Her #Update 12 #the amazing spider-man #spiderman #Peter Parker #Fanfic

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basketcase789 · 6 years

Text

Written in the Stars III

“The past has been there all along, reminding us: this time - maybe, hopefully, against all odds, we will get it right.”

- Leslie T. Chang

Group: BTS

Member: RM

Genre: soulmate au

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

By the time the nausea finally passed you were sure class would be over. After embarrassing yourself and then proceeding to puke your guts out, you came to the conclusion that the stress just wasn’t worth it. You had to drop Namjoon’s class.

You felt disappointed in yourself. This poetry class with Namjoon was the class you’d been most looking forward to ever since you first signed up for the year’s courses. And you didn’t even last two days.

You hoped the classroom wasn’t locked up yet; you’d still need to get the book bag and notebook you left inside. And you didn’t want to have to come back later and try to explain to Namjoon face-to-face why you had to drop his course.

You peeked through the window in the door and saw the desks were empty of students, but the lights were still on. You just might be in luck. You tried the doorknob, and fortunately the door opened.

You froze a few steps inside. Namjoon was sitting at his desk, reading a paperback novel. Alone.

This was bad.

He glanced toward you upon hearing the door opening, and adjusted his glasses. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you admitted.

You spotted your bag and notebook on his desk and you gulped. Red flags were going off in your head telling you to stay as far away from him as possible.

“I’ll have to admit, I didn’t take you for much of a partier, especially on a Sunday,” he said, his lips lifting into a teasing smile. There were those endearing dimples once again.

Wait, so he had noticed you last night at the pub, you realized. You wondered how foolish you must have looked at the time, and rubbed your arm. You glanced away. “I’m actually not into partying, I’m really embarrassed about that. Things just got out of hand I guess. I don’t normally drink so I didn’t really know my limits...”

“Hey, it happens,” he said, and stood from his desk. Now that he was standing in front of you you realized just how tall he was. He was close enough you could just feel the heat radiating from his body. “I’m glad you’re alright. Be more careful next time, okay?” He handed you your things, then patted you on the shoulder. “See you next week.”

His sincerity surprised you.

During your walk home it dawned on you: you were too far gone already. You knew you wouldn’t have the strength to drop the class - in a way, getting to see Namjoon once a week seemed to give you your fix so you could get through your other classes without being too distracted by thoughts of him. Besides, you already knew the truth that you were soulmates. Dropping his class wouldn’t change that fact. And, you had to admit, you didn’t like to back down from a challenge. You finally made the decision to commit to this class.

You just hoped you wouldn’t regret it. And you couldn’t help but wonder - had Namjoon seen your writing in the notebook you’d left behind?

“Hey, could I see your notes from last class?”

It was the words you’d been dreading hearing since the beginning of the semester. You’d distanced yourself from your classmates just to avoid it - they would recognize at a glance that you had the same handwriting as Namjoon.

“No, sorry, I missed last class too,” you invented. “I was going to ask you for your notes.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when she bought your excuse. You made a mental note to start bringing your laptop to class, despite how much of an inconvenience it would be for you to carry it across campus.

You didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to get away with this secret of yours. It felt like every day you were in Namjoon’s class was one day closer to you being revealed as his soulmate. School was stressful enough already, without the added anxiety of trying to hide your true identity from him and everyone else. One slip up and it could all be over.

“I’m passing around another sheet along with the attendance today,” Namjoon announced at the beginning of class. “We’re about a quarter of the way through the semester now, and each of you will have a mandatory one-on-one meeting with me to make sure we’re all on the same page. Please write your name in a time slot next to the days provided. We’ll be able to discuss any questions and concerns about your grades so far. Which brings me into today’s next topic…”

Namjoon handed out a rubric with the instructions for your midterm assignment. Worth thirty percent of your final grade. You began reading through the criteria, and part way down the page you felt yourself grow faint. There in bold letters read: must be handwritten.

You felt like banging your head against the desk. It was like he was purposefully trying to make your life miserable. There was no way you could submit a handwritten document to him. You had too much at stake.

But at the same time, there was too much at stake if you didn’t.

The attendance sheet came to you and you signed your name as usual. The next sheet of paper took a bit more of your time. Up until now you’d been trying to avoid being alone with Namjoon. It was too much for your poor heart to take, and your bond kept trying to make you slip out that you were soulmates. But, he said it was mandatory, so you signed your name next to a time that was convenient for you.

The day of your meeting with Namjoon arrived a little over a week later. Your bond wanted you to dress up, put on some makeup and look nice, maybe even spritz on some perfume. You had to remind yourself this wasn’t some kind of date, and got ready like any other day.

You’d brainstormed some questions ahead of time you could ask to make you seem more invested during the meeting, although you really didn’t have any issues with his class besides the obvious.

All your preparation slipped your mind the second you stepped into his office. He flashed you a smile, revealing his pair of dimples, from behind his desk as you walked in. You didn’t even have a chance to look around first.

You mentally shook your head, trying to focus on the task at hand. Just get in and out, get the meeting credit, and don’t reveal to him that you’re soulmates. That’s all you had to do.

“Please, close the door. Let’s discuss what you think of the course so far.”

You did as asked, then sat down in the chair in front of his desk. His office was neither large nor small. Intimate, you supposed. You would have assumed given his popularity he would have a bigger office, but perhaps he preferred to work from home rather than on campus and didn’t require a lot of space.

You placed your hands in your lap, trying to keep them from trembling under his gaze. “The course is great so far. I’m really learning a lot, and I think it’ll help with my writing in the future. I think your teaching is very engaging and stimulates class discussion.”

He nodded, and you felt yourself getting lost in his dark eyes. It’s like he was staring into your very soul.

“Do you have any specific questions for me?” he asked.

You tried to recall the questions you had prepared, but they were miles away now. You shook your head. “I haven’t had any issues so far.”

“That’s good. Have you decided on a topic for your midterm assignment?”

You nodded, but felt nervous about admitting it face-to-face. “I’ll be writing about my favourite author and poet…”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

You breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t ask who it was.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you too long, if you’re sure you don’t have any concerns. I just have one more question.”

You nodded once more.

“Out of curiosity, why do you always sign your name on the attendance sheet?”

You hadn’t been expecting him to bring that up. Now that you thought about it, of course he would. It was weird.

You shrugged. “I just... prefer to. Why? Will you fail me if I do?”

He smiled back at you. “Not at all. I think, sometimes, it’s okay to break the rules.”

You tried not to read too much into his comment, and after being dismissed, got up to leave. You didn’t have to wonder anymore whether he’d read through your notebook after you left it behind that one day; he would have brought it up by now if he had.

#rm #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts #bangtan #rap monster #rm scenario #rap monster scenario #namjoon scenario #rm fanfic #rap monster fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts soulmate au #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bts scenario #bangtan scenario #my post #fanfic friday

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jamieanovels · 7 years

Text

Fifteen (short story)

This is the uncut version of a short fiction I turned in for my science fiction class. We had to write a story that described the interaction between humans and another equally or more intelligent species (inspired by the late Octavia Butler, whose work I’d highly recommend for lovers of alien science fiction and beautiful prose).

Hope you enjoy!

It was during her Math midterm that the Elder came for Fif. The instant that the pinstripe-suited man stepped into the classroom, eyes widened, and when he revealed the tattoo on his neck that identified him as an Elder, the air went electric. Pencils dropped as the Awares in the class looked at each other in anticipation, while the Unawares eyed the Elder in apprehension, perhaps thinking he was an important official.

Most of the time Fif felt bad for the Unawares. They clung to the Village like a veil that they didn’t know how to shed. The constructed nature of their world must have occurred to them, but their terrified minds had willfully ignored it. Non-realities were scary and implied a need for escape. What other world could the Unawares escape to? The toxic planet above the grove would be nowhere near as forgiving as the Elders.

Besides, Missions could be fun. Fif had done one before, back when she was very young and the main Mission-goer was a physically fit but recently Unaware teenage boy who had wanted company in the abandoned toxic wasteland. Fif hadn’t blamed him, and when one of the Elders—taking the form of one of her teachers, as they often did—had come to tell her about the situation, she had agreed to be the boy’s companion.

Now, she quietly watched the Elder from her seat in the back of the room until he turned from his conversation with her teacher and faced her. Every eye in the room followed his gaze and landed on her as she, despite her perfect knowledge of Mission protocol, shrunk under the attention and fiddled with her pencil under her desk.

“Fifteen,” the Elder called, beckoning to her. Fif nodded, picked up her test, and tiptoed to the front of the room. Her teacher, a bemused Unaware, took it from her and reminded her to come back from her “meeting” to finish it. Fif nodded again and then, at the Elder’s raised eyebrow, followed him out of the classroom and down a hallway dappled in afternoon sunlight. She marveled, as she often did, at how precise the Village was in its approximation of the original humans’ Earth, from the infamous setting of the so-called sun to the crisp smell of grass in the morning.

They arrived at the school’s Mission room, conveniently labeled “Maintenance: Staff Only” so that Unawares wouldn’t question its purpose. The Elder strode inside as Fif followed. She settled in the chair in the center of the room and placed her arms on the armrests as she had been taught. The Elder stood over her, his eyes unreadable, and pressed a finger to her forehead. The coldness of his touch slid through her mind and into her arms, slithering over her skin until she woke with a start, hissing with pain from the sudden sting of the roots as they released her.

She sat up, wincing as her body protested. Being born in the Village had its downsides; her body was far more accustomed to letting the Elders to siphon energy from it than it was to natural human movement. This stillness was a useful existence, since the Elders needed the lives of other sentient creatures to create the air bubble that kept them alive underground, but it was also a counterproductive existence. Missions needed humans to travel to the surface, and it was difficult—and sometimes fatal—to travel malnourished.

Fif groaned as she lifted herself from the curled roots that had recently cocooned her. The only part of them that remained on her person was a single root that grew out of her right arm, turning from the brown of her flesh to the rich green of the Elders. She took a deep breath and then stumbled out of the trunk that surrounded her.

She turned to look back at it, a childlike fondness for the creature who kept her alive bubbling out of her. It looked so serene sleeping there, its leafy arms curled around its rooted legs, verdant branches drooping from its crowned head over eight closed eyes. Fif wondered what dream it was living at that moment, and whether it had ever visited the Village. Considering that the Elders could inhabit any dream of their making as long as they never woke, she guessed that it had not. The Village was no doubt boring compared to the other places that the Elders could create, places that her puny human mind could never comprehend.

“Alright, Fif,” she whispered to herself, her voice muffled in the dry, metal-tinged air. “Time to go.” She reached into the recesses of her sluggish brain and riffled through the instructions the Elder had given her the day that she had accompanied the recently Unaware boy. She’d long since forgotten the boy’s name, but the Elder’s words remained as clear as they’d always been.

Find the Elder at the edge of the grove and merge, climb the vine to the Mission hole, find the sprig and merge, climb back down. It was a simple enough process. Fif heaved another painful breath and started her trek.

The journey may not have been so bad for a fitter girl, but Fif’s time-softened body made every step a struggle. Every few minutes she stopped and rested against a sleeping Elder, wheezing for air, the soft pulse of the Elder’s slowed breathing comforting her at the same time that it reminded her where she ought to have been. She would have been finished with her math test by now, sitting on the lawn with her friends at break. Ten might hand her a peanut-butter sandwich that supposedly tasted just like its original Earth predecessor, smiling brightly through her gap teeth. Christine would look at them both with the same brilliant smile, asking in her innocent Unaware manner whether Ten had put something weird in the sandwich, and Ten would laugh.

Fif shook her head and hunched her shoulders. Now wasn’t the time to ruminate on the Village; she’d be back there soon. She wound her way around two more Elders, slipping past their entangled branches to reveal the edge of the grove. Her breaths were less labored now; her body had finally become more accustomed to her pace. She ducked under another branch, her steps far more assured, and came into view of the last Elder in the grove.

The Elders who prepared Mission vines were all dead. This one was no exception, its milk-white eyes peering unseeingly from its mottled yellow-brown face. Fif shuddered at the sight of it. This was what happened to the Elders when they awoke, either by dying within a dream or being woken up by a growl of hunger or toxic fumes. Fif had no idea how this one had woken up and forced its body into shut-down, its photosynthesis and life-preserving mechanisms malfunctioning under the energy it had to exert to stay awake. If an Elder couldn’t fall back asleep instantaneously, their body would cease to function.

So it had been with this one. Fif headed towards it, already preparing to press her arm to the back of the its cavernous middle, when she suddenly skidded to a halt. Was that movement behind a branch? The Elder couldn’t move, obviously. It was dead. Curiosity bubbled into Fif’s chest as she resumed her walk towards the Elder’s body. It was only when her foot landed too hard on a hollow spot, resulting in the tiniest resonant echo, that she heard a voice.

“Who’s there?” The words were soft, lisping, high-pitched and laced with fear. Fif took another echoing step forward. She must have found a smaller air bubble beneath the main—those sometimes appeared when younger Elders practiced.

“I’m Fif,” she answered, the volume of her voice taking her quite by surprise. She lowered it. “Are you on a Mission, too?” She wasn’t sure how to deal with this human voice outside of the Village. She’d never heard of the Elders sending out two Mission-goers at once, but she didn’t put it past them. Maybe they were losing more sprigs than ever.

“Mission?” the woman repeated.

Maybe not. Fif sighed and took another step forward. “Never mind. What’s your name?” She took on the soothing tone that she had used with the frightened Unaware boy she had helped to the surface. This woman seemed to be an Unaware as well, though how she had escaped her Elder Fif hadn’t the faintest idea.

“Kala. Kala Chung.” The branches of the dead Elder rustled and a stout East Asian woman emerged from the its holly belly. She was probably less plump beneath the full-body suit that she wore, its attached orange helmet covering her peach-shaped face. Wide brown eyes peered at Fif through the plastic visor, warily taking in her skimpy smock, bare feet, and the green root that rose from her elbow and wrapped itself around her forearm.

She was definitely an Unaware.

“What are you?” Kala demanded, her eyes on the root.

“I’m human,” Fif replied, perfectly calm. “I’ve adapted to the environment.” She didn’t want to scare Kala, who she was starting to think might be from the original Earth, or at least somewhere like it. It was clear that the woman had never before seen an Elder’s root. She was like an Unaware, but outside of the Village. It was odd, sure, but at least Fif knew the protocol for dealing with Unawares: tell them the truth, but only as much as they can handle.

“You’re human,” Kala repeated, her voice accepting enough. Fif nodded and then strode towards the Elder’s hollow, stopping only when Kala blocked her, brown eyes narrowing behind her visor. “Where do you think you’re going? This is my place.”

“No, it’s not,” Fif replied patiently. “It belongs to the Elders. You’re living in one of their bodies.”

Kala paled, quickly withdrawing the arm that she had been leaning against the Elder’s belly. She looked around her, her lip curling as she noticed, seemingly for the first time, the dead Elder’s milky eyes. “This thing is alive?”

“Was,” Fif corrected her. “Every Elder serves a purpose, even these dead ones. Some feed the other Elders when their own sugar isn’t enough and some become Mission Elders.” She shouldered her way past the stunned woman and headed to the back of the cavern. It had shriveled after death, allowing her enough room to move around, and seemingly ample room for Kala to decorate. The sides of the hollow had been tacked with pictures of people, some dressed in suits like Kala’s and others in Village clothes. A few stacked notebooks made a desk, complete with a book-light as a lamp, and an empty backpack sat against the Elder’s belly lining.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kala said, shaking her head. “Is there someone older I could talk to?”

“They’re asleep,” Fif answered. She dragged her hand along the lining of the Elder’s belly, searching for the lever that some other Mission-goer had created with their Elder’s root. Finally she found it, tucked under one of Kala’s pictures.

“That’s my husband,” Kala said brightly when Fif lifted it up. She then added, as a sad afterthought, “Or at least, he was. I won’t be able to see him again after what happened to the ship. It just…” She waved her arms, though Fif didn’t see. She was too busy pressing her root to the groove under the photo. She didn’t, however, need to see Kala’s wave to know what she meant. Her ship must have disintegrated; anything metal did.

“Did you come with anyone else?”

Kala’s face fell. “Yes, but they’re all dead. The whole crew. They didn’t have the luck I did. I fell through that up there, landed across from this…this creature. Corpse.” She shrugged helplessly. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, using it as a hideout.”

“Makes sense,” Fif said. Her root had activated the vine. She let the photo fall back over the groove. “I need to get going.”

“Where?” Kala demanded. “Somewhere with people? I’ve been here for weeks; I’m on my last rations. I might last a few more days, but I’ve never been very good with impulse control…”

“The Elders will take you,” Fif interrupted.

Kala blanched. “I don’t…that’s not what I…”

“There aren’t any people left out there,” Fif interrupted, her tone blunt. “Your crew is dead. The Elders will take you in and you’ll live with us. You’ll probably never be a Mission-goer, but at least you’ll have a chance.”

Kala seemed unsure what to do with that answer, so Fif hurried out of the Elder in search of its vine. Village time went on without her whether she liked it or not. What if her Mission cut through English class? She didn’t know how well she could handle two make-up exams back to back.

She had just found the vine when she heard a pattering of footsteps behind her. She looked over her shoulder and found Kala dragging an extra suit that she must have had hidden somewhere in the hollow. When Kala saw that she had caught Fif’s attention, she held out the suit.

“It might protect us from the air,” she said in answer to Fif’s raised eyebrow.

“Us?”

Kala shrugged. “You were right; I’ve nowhere else to go.”

“It’s a barren wasteland. I’m only going because I have to.”

“Well, I’m going because I want to.” Kala’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to stop me?”

“Why would I?” Fif asked. She returned her attention to gripping the vine that wove its way up the side of the bubble and through the hole above them. It only looked like a hole from where they were, of course; from up close it was a thinner layer of the same solid bluish air that comprised the rest of the bubble.

She only stopped moving and begrudgingly slipped into the suit when Kala practically threw it on her, insisting that it would protect her. Fif knew all too well that this was not the case, but she was too tired to argue. Sighing, she dragged herself and the added weight of the suit up the vine, her panting suddenly back with a vengeance.

—

The surface was just as Fif remembered. Jagged remnants of demolished buildings rose from a reddish haze. Yellow-red dust coated everything in a powdery film that reeked of iron and smoke, though they really breathed mercury, lead, and lethal chemicals that Fif couldn’t name. The heat was dry and suffocating, every breath weighing down Fif’s already weak lungs.

A civilization had stood here once; the main Elders recalled it through their aboveground brethren. Back then, surface Elders had been able to survive past the sapling stage, and groundwater that flowed onto the surface had carried their roots. Now, human Missions could barely keep up with the saplings’ death rate.

After making sure Kala had climbed out of the Mission hole, the thin layer of air bubble closing behind them, Fif held out her arm in search of the Elders’ saplings. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking in place through reddish fog, her Elder’s root warmed against her arm. Grinning, she walked in the direction that her arm pointed.

It was actually Kala that found it, trailing behind Fif’s purposeful step at a much slower and awed pace. She had been looking around at the scenery, probably trying to figure out what sort of world the surface had been in its prime, and nearly stumbled over the sprig in the process. Fif had been spinning in small circles when Kala cried out.

“Oh my God! A plant!”

Fif hurried over to Kala. She knelt over the sprig, whose wispy leaves were draped over its face in yellow-brown misery. Fif nudged Kala aside and reached for it while the woman babbled in excitement, yet to connect the dots.

“This is amazing news! Native life! My crew would have a field day over this! I shouldn’t have left my data in that hollow…” She trailed off as she processed what she’d said. Her shoulders drooped as she edged closer to Fif, who was gently pushing the branches from the sapling’s eight-eyed face.

“It’s one of those things, isn’t it? A live one?”

“Yes, but it’s dying,” said Fif. She brushed her Elder’s root against the base of the sapling’s trunk. Immediately, the root curled around its yellowing wood until it had cocooned it. Fif gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. This was the part that would drain her the most. As if from a distance, she heard Kala gasp and pictured the woman stumbling to her feet and staring in shock as the sprig shot up in height, sprouting healthy green branches of hair and thick coils of bark that drove into the ground. Her gasps continued as another sapling shot up in the distance, and then another, until they stood in a ring of five. Fif stared at them, her hazy mind piecing together an imperfect image of starlight streaming down to the rest of the Elders where they would convert it to sugar like they turned lifeblood into dreams and bubbles of air.

As stars winked in Fif’s vision, bliss shot through her arm. She shivered in pleasure, suddenly buoyant as if she’d risen up on a cloud. This was the reason that Awares like her loved the Missions so much, why they didn’t protest number-based names the Elders gave them to track them and the constant weakness that assailed their limbs. Here was another example of how powerful the Elders became in their dream state; they could make and inject their Mission-goers and other sentient beings with dopamine to keep them docile. Fif knew this, but didn’t mind. The feeling made it worth it.

“What happened?” Kala demanded as soon as its effects faded. “Did it do something to you?” She still seemed shaken by the healing sprigs, and Fif’s sudden giddiness made her even more dubious. Fif shook her head and grinned a little too widely for Kala’s liking. The other woman’s brows knitted together as Fif led her back to the Mission hole.

—

Fif was silent for the entire walk back to the Elders’ grove, not trusting herself to speak after the dopamine shot despite Kala’s many questions. Unawares were wary of the true nature of the Village even when they were inside of it; she didn’t want to think about how Kala, someone who had never lived in a dream world, would feel about it. She hoped that once Kala was in the presence of the main Elders, they could placate her and convince her to enter the Village on her own volition.

Of course, the Elders would still pull her into the Village if she resisted, but it would be more painful that way. Fif didn’t wish her new friend pain. Kala had lost her crew, her family…it would be a shame to cause herself more discomfort.

“Are you going to answer any of my questions?” Kala burst when they reached the entrance to the main Elders’ circle. Fif turned to her and nodded.

“I will, but after you see the main Elders.”

“And where are they?”

“In here.” Fif beckoned to Kala and led her into the circle. Kala’s jaw dropped as she spun in a surprised circle, taking in the sleeping Elders whose crowned heads touched the ceiling of the air bubble they had created. They all swayed to face Fif as soon as she stepped into the center of their circle, Kala only a few inches behind her.

“What are they going to do?” Kala asked. Fif smiled, remnants of the happy drug still swirling in her blood.

“They’re going to take me to the Village, back to my Elder, and then they’re going to take you too,” she said. “You’ll be happy there. It’s just like Earth.”

“Earth?” Kala repeated, blanching. “Original Earth?”

“I have friends there,” Fif continued, ignoring her. She didn’t react when roots burst from the ground and attached themselves to the root in her arm, pulling her into the cavity in the chest of the Elder behind her. Kala, however, cried out and scurried back to the circle’s entrance.

“Don’t be afraid,” Fif said gently.

“But it’s pulling you…” Her eyes widened in realization as she focused on the Elders’ closed eyes. “The Village isn’t real, is it? It’s all a dream! A life-sucking dream!”

“What’s the difference?” Fif asked. She met Kala’s terrified eyes and smiled. She was smart, that Kala. Fif looked forward to seeing her again. Even when Kala loosed a shrill, “No!” and sprinted out of sight, she remained giddy. The Elders would find her. Someday she’d spot a stout Asian woman squinting at her from across the street, and she would give her the brightest smile in the world.

#my writing #fifteen #writeblr #writing #short story #science fiction

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