#Johnny: Guys please I was trying to prove a point

[running-with-the-feels]

Johnny: Okay, so, lemme get this straight, you are dating Liu Kang

Kitana: Yes

Johnny: and he's dating Kung Lao

Kitana: Correct

Johnny: But you're not dating Kung Lao

Kitana: Absolutely not

Johnny: Okay, cool, could I date him then?

Kitana, tucking Kung Lao behind her and hissing like a cat: Not unless you face me in mortal kombat and win, Earthrealmer!

#look she's not very socially aware okay? #she'll get there in the end #meanwhile Bi-Han and Sareena refuse to talk to Johnny for a week #Johnny: Guys please I was trying to prove a point #Bi-Han: No no if you want to date kung lao by all means go ahead #they work it out dw #liu kang #kitana #kung lao #liulaotana

[caeunot]

can you do johnnie guilbert comforting f!reader (his gf) with s/h relapse. if not no worries, i’ve just been struggling lately and your writing helps me.

thank you for the request ♡

and I'm so sorry that you haven't been well, it makes me so happy that my writing is able to do that! I hope this fic can do your request justice and that it can help even if just a little.

johnnie guilbert x reader

➷ you felt sweaty, it was at least 34°c outside and you had a sweater on. you did this for a reason though, recently things have been harder on you. it feels as if everyone and everything is against you and that the world is completely caving in, you contemplated bringing it up to your boyfriend but many things were stopping you.

the first being he has his own shit to deal with, about two months ago he blew up completely on tiktok causing him to be a lot more busy recently. the second being that he deals with his own mental health too and you didn't want to be a burden, you obviously aren't but your mind kept telling you that you are. it's exhausting to be fighting against yourself constantly but by this point you have sadly come accustomed to it.

you were walking towards the bathroom to do your makeup when you felt arms slide around your waist, "hey baby I haven't seen you all day" you smiled and turned around, "I've been kinda lazy today I'm only doing my makeup now at 2 pm". "nothing wrong with that" he says as he gives you a kiss.

"hey it's boiling outside, maybe you should take off your sweater" he says tugging onto it slightly. "I'm fine really" you say trying to push out a smile, you could tell it came out fake. "come on you can't possibly feel cold" he says starting to get concerned.

after some silence he takes your hand and leads you into your shared bedroom, "darling, if there's anything you want to say you can tell me". "I'm fine really! I promise".

"then can you take off the sweater please?" he says with a tone much more gentle than usual. you hesitated but can't bare to lie to him anymore. as you take it off it exposed fresh cuts all along the top of your arm. he stares at it for a moment before leaning in for a hug.

no words in that moment were necessary, just that action of the hug was enough to prove to you that he cares. he immediately went and took the first aid kit you guys kept for emergencies, he sat you down in the bathroom and cleaned up the open wounds and then wrapped it in medical cloth. after he finished he gave a soft kiss on your forehead.

"never feel too embarrassed or too shy to come to me about this okay? I'm your boyfriend I'll take care of you no matter what" he took your hand in his "please promise me you will try to be more open about this in the future, it's nothing to be ashamed of okay? I'll always be here for you. I love you more than life itself I don't know what I would do if something happend to you"

you found yourself opening up to him about all that you are going through and he gave you his full undivided attention for hours, afterwards he ordered you food and cuddled you on the couch till you fell asleep in his arms, you have never felt safer.

❣

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert imagine #caeunot

[onyourhyuck]

OPTIONS. | Kim Jungwoo (M)

prologue- “If you really want me. Go beg for me, right now. Prove it to me. Words speak louder than actions.” + “Fuck me please, Y/n.”

summary: Jungwoo is heavily into you but you always give him the cold shoulder because you have options.

warnings: switch jungwoo but he is subbing for y/n. Dominate y/n. Mentions of praising and degrading. Hair pulling. Oral male receiving. Hickeys. Titties blowjob. Jungwoo’s down bad for y/n bro.

note- the fic was inspired by Options by Doja Cat.

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Another day of Jungwoo eye-fucking you with love hearts in those giant eyes and his grand-charming soft smile at university.

You try your best to ignore this behaviour. In matter of fact you erase it from existence. You’d rather focus on university work that actually has to be done and paid attention to, otherwise your professors might pull a deathbed for you and your endless procrastinating problem you try your best to get rid of. Though that’s another problem for another day.

Right now, your problem is someone called Johnny Suh. Your best friend. He smirks watching your expression fall the moment you saw Jungwoo across the quiet gigantic library where he sat diagonally from where you were sitting alone. Johnny standing to the nearest shelf with a book open in his hands, he closes it with a loud ‘bang’.

Johnny comes forward leaning to your table, teasingly wowing at the boy’s determination. “Now would you look at that. Y/n’s boyfriend came to join her on a little study date.” He pauses, watching your eye twitch when you turned to see him. “How cute.” Johnny sighs, crossing his arms.

You grit your teeth, sneering. “He is not my boyfriend. Secondly if you are here to piss me off you can scram.”

“Whoa what’s got your knickers in a twist this afternoon?” He grins watching the way your eyebrows scrunch and arch like the marriage aisles would, Johnny pushes his index finger on your forehead pushing it away. “Now that looks like sexual frustration to me if i ever seen one.” Johnny points out, causing your stomach to boil and tremble like an soon erupting volcano.

“I am not sexually frustrated.” Y/n replies back lowly, turning the pages on the chemistry textbook.

“Of course you aren’t.” With a hint of sarcasm Johnny spoke before putting the book down and takes a toll on the side before he sat next to you near the table. The muscular biceps flex on the table desk as he whispers. “Hendery is hosting a party at the frat house. You wanna come?” He smirks as you turn your head to look at him with a raise eyebrow.

“Wong Hendery is hosting a party? What’s the occasion.” You question suspiciously and Johnny scoffs. “He’s a party monster. This is nothing compared what he has hosted last year and the year before.”

Just what on earth did Hendery host in the past? It surely sounds like it cost a lot and might’ve got the police involved a few times more than once. You didn’t want to visualise the horrific situation, so you sigh out and give a small nod. Perhaps you need to loosen up. Alcohol might help you. On the plus side Johnny was correct about you; you are sexually frustrated. You need to get laid or at least, makeout with a guy. It’s been a long time since you last fucked with someone…

Your hearts desires over your head was finally swapped over and Johnny saw you agree nonchalantly.

“Alright. I’ll go to the party.”

The overcrowded population of drunk uni-student adults have barged against Y/n who have dressed perfectly for the occasion with a neatly skinned tight dress. Pushing through it took the strength in you verbally and physically to make it inside the frat house. The Neos have a thing for large parties, each and every one of them. But Hendery was far up the level than the rest of them. The Chinese man tends to be chaotic in his energy therefore he thrives on chaos. He’s hilarious, but he has a knack for over-inviting people to the point you could find the entire university here. It shocks you to know how many people know Hendery and no one seems to hate him. He has the ability to speak to anyone, to befriend anyone, to get on anyones good side no matter what.

It shouldn’t surprise you but it does. You look at the distance of the neos with few girls entertaining them, scanning your eyes hurriedly you meet yours to land on a certain pair of sights on you that have been eyeing you for so long; powerful hungry eyes watching the way your body figure stands to sophisticatedly as well as alluringly, it was as if you stole all the attention he had on whatever until he saw you come in.

Jungwoo. Jungwoo doesn’t know anything besides you now. In his head, in his mind, in his brain and heart; it’s always you.

The boy hovers in your space as he leans on the doorway watching you with mischief in those glinting Iris’ — you look away with a slight air in your voice but nothing came out. “Y/n i didn’t know you were coming.” He said with that sweet calming voice. It makes your heart race all of the sudden. “Johnny invited me.” Y/n tells quickly.

He stands there staring at you with no words. Something about the word ‘Johnny’ ticks him off. Don’t get Jungwoo wrong, he is mates with him. They’re good friends. Brothers even. But when you say someone’s name that isn’t his, it makes his blood boil above the pressure he could ever think to imagine. you watching someone makes him want to stand in your way so they could only see him. It’s no surprise that Jungwoo is this way. He’s laid eyes on you first. He’s crushed on you first. He wishes to be your first too, that you fall in love as much as he loves you. He wants you to confess just like he did to you.

But you’ve rejected. Gave him the cold shoulder and shrug, walked away all over him. Why did this make him want and love you even more though? He never understood why he loves you being an absolute mean bitch to him, he’s addicted to it. If you asked for him to be your punching bag— hell— he’s sure he wouldn’t say no if it’s you asking. Only if it’s you.

“Speaking of Johnny. I need to find him.”

You dismiss yourself from the conversation about to walk away past Jungwoo’s shoulder where he no longer had eye contact with you. You’re supposed to be looking for your best friend— so why, why did a hand stopped you and pulled you on the side somewhere secretively dark where no one could be found but only you and Jungwoo?

The boy pulls you to the corridors between the boys rooms where none of them will be roaming. The neos tends to stick where people are most at. Your back hit the cold painted walls against your bareback with the v-line shaped back dress. His tall figure, much taller than you, hovering against it as his hands on the side were by the wall nearing your face. He had you trapped. He can’t hold back anymore. Something of this situation made you itch in anticipation. Why did those sweet eyes turn dark on him? Where did that simp-of a loving man who wants nothing but to love and shower you with presents go?

His voice changed. His demure changed. Everything is not the same as it once was before.

“Y/n. You have no idea what you do to me.” Jungwoo begins with a hidden rasp to his voice lingering on. He wore the world in his hands as he was speaking each word on his mind without a single thought about it twice. He’s saying whatever comes and goes in that head of his. Your eyes adjust to the darkness with a moonlight shining by the small windows on the side, seeing his eyes go closer as well as his lips. He’s hovering above your red plum mouth, as if he was hesitant still but you knew very well what he wants to do. You stay still closing your eyes as you push a little closer, but not enough to close the gap on your lips. Jungwoo took in your movements carefully, dotting it as a sign for him to close it. Little did you know your body was having a mind of its own, practically screaming Jungwoo’s name to its highest limit. You want him.

Your body wants him. Your heart aches for him. Only your head is unsure and uncertain.

The pair of softness from the lips crashing on yours, the air sucks out of both lungs. Jungwoo groaning by the lips the more reactive you became. You recruited the same amount of passion as him when your eyes closed, when your head shut down from all solutions. You grab on his collar that snuck around his neck. Jungwoo lifting your body up against the walls and groping it by his hands roaming your bare soft back and ass, your legs follow his moves upstairs as he was carrying you now to his bedroom.

You gasp as your body fell with him on the nearest wall inside the bedroom. “Shit.” You murmur as your lips fell apart from his. The boy in front of you having low bangs covering his eyes as he was so lost on the pleasure from you. From what you’re doing. The overwhelming suffocating hot and bothered air got to the both of you and you broke out of the lustful haze.

It’s as if that kiss solved all your problems, all your desires but left you wanting more of him. More from Jungwoo. The boy felt exactly the same and he was willing to give you everything…

But it all comes down to you and your answer to his next question that surely leaves your body trembling at the deposing words you have been putting on hold.

Jungwoo’s swollen pouting lips fall apart with light breathy syllables launching down like nukes. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” His hand travels to cup your face lovingly as your eyes were staring down the floor clearly avoiding to make eye contact.

Once those cold hands touched your burning face by the immense heat— you push them away as you raise your eyes to watch him. Jungwoo’s eyes swung open like a jack o’box toy, falling off the sockets as he was in shock watching you hold his wrist tight so he could no longer touch you. It’s crazy. One minute you’re cold the next you are warm. You’re in for a minute and back away the next . It’s almost like you are conflicted. You’re scared of attachment and to do something this heavily committed to another body scares you.

“Jungwoo.” You tremble his name out like an opening to a dramatic movie scene; you can’t voice your thoughts because everything seems so jumble. The man thickly swallows as he saw your anxious eyes travel around the room and back to the floor. He pulls away from your body as he leans back. You watch his silhouette shadow on the ground lean backwards as you now watch him more comfortably.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Jungwoo plausibly told. You bite your cheeks. God, is that what you made him think? Is this what you’re coming across as? Even though you might not notice it on you, Jungwoo can see the way you are so uncertain about sleeping with someone. He can tell with the way your nostrils flare at every angle of the foreign situation, it makes your skin prickle underneath your dress. Your ears ring as if it were a bell to break you out of the situation immediately. You don’t trust anyone. You don’t even trust yourself.

It’s not like you’re a virgin. You’re not for godsake’. But that doesn’t mean you had the best scenarios in the past with guys you slept with. They all leave you once you hand your body over. Manipulation tricks fused to get you in their bed all used and then left when the next minute after being done with you. It hurts a lot more than it should’ve.

Your eyes squelch tight closing them with Jungwoo slowly made his way towards your hands interlocking them with his. Pulling you into an embrace as he stroke your head behind with his other free hand. “If you really want me. Go beg for me, right now. Prove it to me. Words speak louder than actions.”

You said to the boy who tug on your hand lifting his face away from the shoulder. He faces you with an incredible excitement but also commitment. Something you haven’t seen in a boy before. What you’re not aware of Jungwoo’s down bad for you. All you have to do is say the words and he will do so. Your hands have him in a physical, mental and spiritual chokehold that no one ever has done to him. He’s at your command, merely your pawn.

“Fuck me please, Y/n.” Jungwoo pleads with his eyes going back when he lands on the bed and you approaching him with a dowering expression that makes his eyes dilate bigger. He doesn’t want to fuck you, to use you, to dominate your body. He wants to be fucked and used by you instead.

He’s only a doll made just for you. Those words left such empowerment to you that you never knew could exist.

The heavenly sight of y/n stuck in between his thighs as he was sitting on the edge of the very king size bed, wet lips splattering across the lengthy manhood, coating to the warm water dribbling by your chin. Jungwoo swore, he lost track of where he was and who the fuck he was in that moment; it’s all he ever fantasied about. The pleasure from the teeth rubbing on the pinkish swelling tip with precum pushing out was enough to craft a smirk on your face. But it wasn’t enough. You want Jungwoo screaming by the end of this— you want people to know how much of a whore he is for you. Only for you.

The sudden warmth embraces his erected large length in between very two squish-able and soft breasts made Jungwoo squeeze his thighs together. Gosh, you are the death of him. The sinful expression on Jungwoo you took a glance at, it filled your stomach with butterflies. How can such an innocent face, a soft boy who you would never expect to be so twisted in more ways than one turn you on in million ways another could not? It’s as if Jungwoo was a sex magnet. He was your sex magnet. Your turn on. The pitiful existence used just for your pleasurable needs. The boy trembled with elbows behind him positioned to hold his posture, though with the way your tits smother his raging cock that was going to release any minute— Jungwoo did not want to come just yet. He does not want to finish yet, he doesn’t want this to end. The wetness of your tongue laying flat on his tip however sent him over the edge. His tip shakes vigorously as it paints your tongue and face in all the white juice. Lips falter apart, a heavens voice comes out of the boy; soft whimpering moans and breathy intake to the lungs echo in the room.

Sweat dripping down on the side of his face. Jungwoo hung his head back with closed. It was as if you sucked all the life out of him. All the energy. Once reopened the eyes, the sight of your chin, lips and tongue covered in his come made him rethink all his decisions: He won’t be letting you go ever again after. Most definitely not. Jungwoo will not let you have anymore options.

You only belong to him. You have many options with him, not anyone else. He would let you fuck anywhere, fuck it, you could fuck with him outside an unhygienic bar and he’d freaking love it. In the kitchen too. Perhaps in the shower? Back seat of the car? Hell, Restaurant too. You both know you got options like this…

“Fuck. Y/n, you like so hot right now.” Jungwoo hollers in excitement when the arm reach from you, fingers gripping behind the blue-ish faded hair as you pull him forward to his lips. Tangling feeling of your tongues together, dancing in carefree sight. His lips were soft and warm, they part ever so slightly allowing your tongue to completely devour him so openly. He submits to you on will and this has left your egotistical complex rise.

“You’re such a whore, Woo.” You murmur past his lips pushing away so suddenly as your palm on his chest pressed him flat on the bed. You crawl on top of him and Jungwoo with widen eyes looks at you helplessly like a prey in danger. He moans at the name you gave him, ‘Woo’, makes him weak on the knees. The way your degrading mouth insults him, god, he is really nothing but a useable toy for you.

You smirk watching him. He is in for a long tiring and dangerous road is in for him tonight.

“Be a good boy for me.” You point out. “And you shall be rewarded by fucking me at the end of it.”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! REBLOG THIS FIC. FOLLOW ME FOR MORE IF YOU ENJOY THIS FIC<33

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct series #nct hard thoughts #jungwoo hard hours #nct jungwoo #jungwoo fanfic #Jungwoo hard thoughts #nct 127 smut #jungwoo scenarios #jungwoo smut #nct fic #nct recs #nct scenarios #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo imagines

[many-melancholies]

If Love is The Answer – SoapGhost

♡

part: 2/5 [part one] [part three] [part four] [part five]

♡

A grumpy student glared at his test paper with so much fueling frustration that the paper would've burned if looks could kill. This was all because of a simple, friendly written note by his teacher using a ballpen that said “Great job! You did second best in class!” with a smiley face on the side of the score 99/100.

The high school student leaned his chair with a tweak, eyeing anyone who could’ve gotten first best. He always was at the top of his class; he couldn’t understand who could surpass him so helplessly.

It must be that new student, he thought as he frowned, standing up and searching for the said student in the classroom with pairs of scared eyes avoiding his line of sight. Stupid guy with that stupid mohawk.

The student pounded on the wooden desk of the rather soap-smelling guy with his almost-crumpled Science test paper shoved at John’s – the new transfer’s – face that said the words “Eh?”

“No one in the entire batch has ever made me lose to get only second-best, Soap,” the student – Simon – had mocked all those years ago. “You’re telling me what cheap trick you used to ace this exam, and you’re telling me now,” he demanded.

“Ah…” Johnny mumbled, thinking of his response. It seemed like the other students checking the fuzz knew exactly what the popular transfer student would do; they were fretting and shaking their heads as if John was up to some mischief.

“What, you need a tutor?” Johnny asked with a cheeky smirk, oblivious to Simon’s reputation and unafriad of his rage and the slapping of the foreheads of the other students. “If that’s so, it’d be my pleasure to-”

A sudden jerk by Simon at John’s collar made him realise that wasn’t what the hothead was asking for. “I’ve spent sleepless nights working on every quiz or anything graded for it to be the best score in the batch,” Simon seethed. “And then you showed up out of the blue as a new student with a perfect score on the final exam for Physiology and Human Anatomy! You must have something hidden up your sleeve, don’t you? Spit it!”

John grabbed Simon’s hand that pulled his sleeve with intense force. He still wore his friendly smile and spoke kindly, but his cold Pricee told another story. “I only study to the best of my abilities, like you and all of our honest classmates,” he replied. “If you’re trying to imply that I’m cheating, then please get solid evidence before making that claim.”

John wore an impish grin. “That’s the first thing I’ve learned in Science after all,” he rambled, happy to share his expertise. “The CER Model! For a good explanation, you must have a claim that answers the question, evidence from gathered data and research, and reasoning that involves a scientific principle that showcases how the evidence supports its claim!” (Really, it's basic Grade 6; he really just was bluffing.)

Simon’s left eye started to twitch at Johnny's delight when sharing his love for science. He slowly let Johnny down to the ground, earning him gasps in the crowd. He flashed them a dirty look. It wasn’t always that he backed down from a fight.

“Whatever, Soap, you prove your point,” Simon barked, a gravelly grumble, then smirked as he checked the other test papers in John’s desk in other subjects; they were only a few correct answers away from being equal to Simon’s grades, and the Science ones were all perfect like his. “You seem like a good competitor,” then, a bit more quietly – “it'd make him proud.”

“Ye wanna get a win, eh?” Johnny's eyebrows rose, shrugging and smiling, frightfully genuine. “And I’ll make sure that I’ll be steps ahead of you soon. Just ye wait,” – he checked the boy’s ID swiftly – “Simon Riley, just ye wait.”

“Oh, it’s John MacTavish, by the way. No need to make names out of how absolutely amazing I smell like.”

“I-I knew that!”

“Did you?”

(He didn't quite answer that question as well as his Math periodic exam.)

* * *

“Sweetie, I promise you, it’ll be fun!” a petite woman cooed Simon, combing his hair with a brush. The high school student grimaced at his reflection; suits did not fit him. “You never attended any of the prom dances, and you don’t go to your classmates’ birthday parties either! This is your last chance to shine in the spotlight!”

“Mummy, is this necessary? Simon murmured. “I can spend my night working on a project due next week, but now I’m set up on a date with your friend’s child.”

“You’re just like your dad, such the workaholic. You can’t believe that I was the one who asked him for a dance! Not to mention I did most of the courting! Sometimes I regret marrying that pesky CEO,” joked Simon’s mum. “Plus, it’s not a date; the kid’s a boy! I bet you’ll like him! He’s dedicated to his craft, an aspiring doctor if I remember correctly.”

“An aspiring doctor, huh,” Simon said to himself. I know a student who fits in that category, except I’m pretty sure he’ll be rotting away under a tree waiting for an apple to fall on his head rather than participating in a prom dance. The wonders of gravity indeed, he thought sarcastically.

His ‘friendly rivalry’ with Johnny was going well, however well a rivalry could go. They eagerly competed from quiz scores to games of ‘first to raise your hand when the teacher asks a question and gets it right wins some morale boost I guess.’ The teachers didn’t appreciate the entire batch placing bets on the two smartest students of the school, though.

Simon and his mum walked out of the family’s luxurious mansion, spotting a flashy orange pickup. A tan, plump woman boarded off the car and greeted his mother. The son that his mum mentioned jumped off the car too, and the boys were locked in a staring contest.

“Soap?!” Simon yelled accusingly. “What are you doing here!”

John laughed awkwardly. “I suspected you’d be the person my mum was talking about,” he muttered. “Not everyone can fit the criteria of ‘grumpy to the point its almost cute.’”

“It seems ye two are already acquainted,” Mrs. MacTavish giggled with a mischievous glint in her eyes, Scottish accent even heavier than his son's. “Now we’re free ta share baby pictures too! Do ye wanna see the first time our wee Johnny had his bonnie mohawk-”

Johnny quickly grabbed Simon's arm with his sweaty palms. “Well, would you look at the time!” He checked his imaginary watch. “Simon and I should get going!”

The two boys bid their farewells and their mothers gave away their final remarks.

“No drinking, Simon!” Simon’s mummy said while waving. “The farthest you can go is punch only!”

“Oi, Ghost!” John’s mum called out with her new nickname for Simon due to his pale skin. “Report to me if any lass tries ta do something funny with mah Johnny! I’ll put them in their place!”

Simon saluted her in John’s embarrassment. “Will do, Mrs. MacTavish!”

* * *

Attempt 86 on touching material things, Soap noted. Despite how much he tried, his hand always phased through the cuppa tea. The hologram scrunched his nose.

It had already been five days since Christmas, and since Soap successfully spawned. Even if Simon’s companion was technically just a hologram, it was nice to have some company.

While Simon spent his time absorbed in his textbooks and wondering what he could do in his new spare time now he wasn’t working on Soap, the invention scanned and searched every new thing he saw. Soap developed hobbies that the human Johnny never had. He had grown fascinated with plants, he took note of his creator’s daily routine (wake up, take a bath, study, eat, sleep), and listened to whatever played on the radio station that Simon set up for him. Not only that, Soap was much more quiet and bashful than Johnny – he could never quite match up Simon's banter.

But Simon had also noticed Soap had desperately struggled to get accustomed to the life of a hologram in a world dominated by humans. He went out every early morning with Simon when there weren't many people, admiring the sunrise and the chirping of birds. In some way, Simon started to think that Soap wanted to be a human.

And now it strikes the question of what should he install in Soap’s orb to even make him somehow ‘human.’

Touch, Simon decided. I’ll make him something that’ll let him touch.

He looked away from the light of the television while munching on his popcorn, catching the hologram sitting on the floor looking at the popcorn with a newfound desire to eat.

Simon went in the front of an oak-wood door and opened the way to the basement to let Soap in. “Holo, let me borrow you for a while. I’ll need to know your exact hand measurements.”

“You do know I can phase through doors and walls, right?”

“O-Of course I do!”

“Do ye?”

Simon spent a sleepless night trying to visualise a pair of gloves that granted Soap the sense of touch and perhaps thinking why his previous conversation with him sounded so familiar.

♡

#soapghost #ghoap #ghostsoap #cod mwiii #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #mwii #fic #fanfic #drabble

[afurioushawk]

What's the outcome you are hoping for Miguel in season 5?

I’ll be real, Miguel’s arc is the one next season that gives me the most trepidation because it all just feels like it exists to focus on Johnny’s characterization, much like how Miguel's recovery arc in S3 was more about Johnny than him. That’s it. And look, I understand Johnny is the main protagonist, but I’m tired of Miguel having to be put through the wringer in order to motivate Johnny to do shit. 

I’m sitting here just hoping that they don’t go the stereotypical route and make Miguel’s bio-dad a narco (please, literally anything but), but even if they manage to avoid that, what is Miguel going to get out of this? The knowledge that his mother was right, that his male parent was just a bad guy all along and Miguel made a horrible mistake trying to find him?

It all feels like set up to make Johnny look good by comparison, just like they did with having Kreese around to compare him to. And ffs we know Johnny loves Miguel. It’s pretty much Johnny’s only redeemable character trait at this point. Why does Miguel need to suffer in order to prove this point that we all know?

Because pretty much the only new thing that could come out of this scenario will be the bonding Johnny and Robby could do while they’re traveling together in Mexico, which won’t involve Miguel. If Carmen was going with them, I'd feel at least a little better, because then we could guess we'd be getting something between her and Miguel (which would make too much sense, considering the only reason Miguel doesn't know anything about his dad is because of Carmen's choice to hide the information) but that doesn't seem to be the case. So really, nothing about this trip feels like it's actually about Miguel. So is that really worth separating Miguel from his mother, girlfriend, and all his friends just to give Johnny and Robby bonding time? 

I mean, I hope I’m wrong. I hope Miguel gets some really good material despite everything stacked against him. And if nothing else, Johnny will have gone a long way in fixing his relationship with Robby so that he and Miguel don't have to be antagonistic toward each other anymore. But I’m not going in with any expectations, and that’s why I’ve been writing cope fic.

#miguel diaz

[kuttanjal123]

BLINDFOLDED

"We suspect that you've been involved in the murders of Carol Lynch, Stella Mason, Johnnie Windmill, Debbie King, Annie Upton, Carter Butch ... the list goes on," said a sheriff. "In total, eight victims accounted for."

"Sir, I couldn't harm anyone. My family means the most to me. I'm great with kids. I love them," Dad said calmly. "I'm not a killer."

"We've been monitoring your activities and daily routine. While you did teach at the Maximillian University of Arts, here in Louisiana, Daunton College in Illinois, Rochford University at Michigan, and Bohr Institute of Technology at Arizona, you didn't work those long hours beyond the schedule you told people you had signed up for. You were out, hunting for prey, to kill."

Mom sent Morgan inside his room and locked it from outside. We knew he was capable of hearing anything and figuring stuff out. An inquisitive person. Things were getting pretty severe and harsh. The last thing we needed was to have him find out what was going on when we didn't know. Kids are super smart that way.

"That's impossible. I have strong alibis for where I was on all days. Didn't you check them out?" asked Dad.

"Why don't you take a polygraph? Prove us wrong. We'll let you go. Until then, you're in custody."

"I can't speak without my lawyer. You can't arrest me without any physical evidence!"

"Oh, there's plenty of evidence for sure—"

"Look, I don't like the way this is going," snapped Dad. "I refuse to speak without my lawyer."

Larry Douglas's lawyer was on TV, backing up Dad at every allegation thrown at him.

"The suspect will remain in custody until he is cleared of all allegations of foul play. For today the coverage marks its end," said a reporter.

I couldn't believe it. A week passed by, and Dad's case had created a media frenzy. It was the holidays, and we didn't leave the house until school reopened. When school was back in session, the press followed us everywhere to see if they could get something out of us.

They became so intrusive to the point we had to close our windows with the blinds every night and turn out all the lights. I hoped to find peace and comfort at school, but I was wrong. The whole school began to distance themselves from us, and so did the neighborhood community. Andy and Dwyane blocked me. I couldn't call or text them. Natalie shut me off completely, too. I decided to confront them.

"Dude, what's the problem?"

They began walking away from me. 

 "No, for real?" I said, blocking them. "Do you guys actually believe my dad killed people? He's a serial killer?"

"I don't know what to say, man. But they're some pretty heavy allegations," said Dwayne.

"What's there left to talk about?" asked Andy, puzzled.

"So, you guys think my dad's guilty?"

"We don't know what to think, but we can't be friends anymore. Sorry."

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh? Well, fuck you!" I screamed as they walked away.

I called Natalie to talk to her and explain myself. She refused to answer my call. The next day at school, I caught her walking outside the cafeteria.

"Please!" I begged as she tried to walk away. "At least you have to believe me!"

"David, your dad is being accused of some serious crimes. I don't think we should be together."

"So, you believe the police too? After all this time? I joined basketball to get back with you and revoke my passion. I loved you, and now you doubt me?"

"Don't text me or call me. This is the last time. If you try to get close to me, I'll get a restraining order," she said, walking away.

Morgan faced the same problem too.

"Nobody talked to me at school today!" he cried as I walked into the house. "Everyone stared at me, and no one sat with me during recess. They kept saying, 'Your dad's going to jail. He's bad, and he's gonna die. What's going on?'"

"N-nothing," I said. "It's gonna be fine, OK?"

Things went downhill for good when Dad was seen in an orange jumpsuit on tape, sitting in a chair and staring at the camera.

"I, Luke Parker, confess that I killed all the people mentioned in the list circulated in the media by the police. I admit that I lied initially during the police interrogation. Please leave my wife and kids out of this," he said without any emotion.

The police stated: "It was a needle in a haystack that led us to arrest and convict Luke Parker."

The images of the identified victims were displayed on the screen one after the other. Mom and I were shocked and didn't know what to say or how to say it. I, for one, didn't know how to comfort her since I was in denial. We both went to our rooms and stayed there for several hours to process what we had just witnessed. We didn't have any political contacts, nor were we in a position to make calls since we feared our lines would be tapped. I then closed my eyes and what I saw was a very different picture of Dad than what I had perceived. I remember noticing him out during late nights on certain days past our bedtimes, and for some days, I just didn't see him at home. I assumed this was normal since he was friends with other professors at the university and would have slept over at their houses during late nights.

I remember spotting a single brown hair on his jacket one night after he came in late and a red splotch on his shirt. It seemed suspicious, but I didn't ever confront him about it, nor did I want to pry. I guess I trusted him too much to believe he would do anything grave or foul. By the time I replayed these events in my mind, the two of us had gathered in the living room simultaneously, and by then, we had to come to face reality ... my father was a serial killer. A murderer, a criminal. How were we gonna live with this truth? People's hunches were correct. We could not go back to being normal since our family wasn't normal anymore. Although Dad was known to the media and world as the serial killer Luke Parker, we became criminals in school. We were mistreated, neglected, bullied by all the students and teachers, left out, and judged for Dad's actions.

There were protests in our neighborhood asking us to leave the community, verbal slurs thrown around, things thrown at us. Just pure hate. Notices sent to our home and left on our door ordering us to leave the neighborhood. I ran to my room and cried uncontrollably. People hated us, and suddenly, we were portrayed as individuals involved in these crimes who had knowledge about them but protected my father and never turned him in.

We decided to leave and drive away to Canada to start a new life. Living in the USA wasn't possible since news circulated 24 X 7 on my father's wrongdoing, and we were now victims of a media storm. Leaving the house and packing took and felt like forever, with the media hovering over us like bees ... After we dropped out of school and started on our way to Canada, we were stopped and taken into custody. The police interrogation went on for hours, trying to get one of us to confess, knowing about his crimes.

We were asked to take polygraphs, and we all passed. We were cleared as suspects. But that didn't mean that everything was over and done. Dad was set to be put to death. His punishment? The Electric Chair. We never visited him in jail on death row or spoke to him after the announcement.

While Mom was driving, she suddenly pressed the brakes and looked at me very calmly.

"Honey, nothing happened, right? Dad didn't do anything. They have him in custody, but he's gonna come back to us someday. It might take time, but we'll see him again. He's just wrongly accused," she said, smiling.

I froze, looking at her, not knowing how to respond.

"Right?" She raised her voice.

"Yeah, Mom, you're right," I gulped.

I knew what that meant—it meant not coping with the reality but rather simply pretending that nothing happened. She could do it, but how was I going to?

"Mom, why were there people taking our pictures all the time?" asked Morgan.

"Because they thought we were famous. But we're not," answered Mom with a wide smile.

Casey called out for Dad, as I turned around and held her hand, nodding slowly. She was biting her toy, as she happily motioned with her hands full of drool.

We were desperate to find a place to stay. Mom read a newspaper advertisement regarding a well-furnished condo: a single bed, two bathrooms, and a kitchen. We slept in the car and didn't shower for a couple of days.

We managed to seal the deal. We weren't prepared for the very unsafe and violent neighborhood. We could hear people cussing at each other in the night and loud gunshots firing. For many nights, I couldn't sleep and kept my eyes open. I was petrified. Morg and Casey fell asleep very quickly. Mom did after a while. But there were moments in her sleep where she would wail and scream in the night. I would pat her to calm her down.

Blythewood Public School seemed to meet our requirements and was luckily within our district. Maintaining a low profile, we hardly interacted with anyone. If we were labeled as loners or anti-social, so be it. The last thing we needed was for either one of us to blow our cover and for someone to find out who we really were. In the months following, I focused on studying hard.

I didn't make or want to make the basketball team. But I certainly did practice during recess at school, hoping to divert my mind. There were moments I teared up in school, having nobody to console me, looking around in shock and despair.

As dawn turned to dusk, I realized Mom wasn't in bed. As I got up looking for her, I saw the bathroom door slightly ajar. Peeping inside, I saw her take a white packet from under the sink, a money note from her pocket, and roll it out. She began snorting the powder. I barged in.

"Mom! What are you doing?!" I screamed as I tried to knock it out of her hand.

"Dave, stay out of this, leave me alone," she said as she pushed me away.

"NO!"

"Go and get some sleep. I know what I'm doing."

"Mom!"

"Get out!"

She managed to put up quite a violent fight with me, and I was soon thrown out. I banged on the door, pleading for her to open it.

"Dave, what happened?" asked Morgan as he yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"Morg, it's just a bad storm, OK?" I said as I carried Casey, who was wailing.

Morgan fell back into bed as I put Casey next to him and I lay beside them, not knowing what to expect next.

Mom came out smiling wide, acting perfectly fine. 

"I feel so good, Dave," she said before she lay down.

Silent, I cried myself to sleep almost every night. But Mom's nightmares and moaning escalated to the point that she jumped out of bed, broke down the front door, and started screaming. I tried to yank her back inside, but it was too late. People woke up and even threatened to harm us.

"Lady! Are you drunk?! Get back into your house and quit shoutin'!" screamed a man.

She didn't move an inch. A man had been standing with a beer bottle in his hand. Mom ran up to him and grabbed the bottle.

"Listen up bitch! If you ain't gonna shut it, I'll blow your brains out of your head!"

I ran back to her and dragged her inside the house. I pushed her into the bathroom and switched on the shower to help her sober up. Instead, she fell to the ground. As I tried to help her get up, she overdosed and choked. I rushed to the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

I tried giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but it didn't work. Within moments an ambulance arrived to take her to the hospital, and we all climbed in. I cried so much that a nurse had to hold me steady at the hospital. This was the moment I truly felt all the pain hit me at once. Dad had deceived us, and Mom could not cope with the reality.

I couldn't blame her. We didn't know how to act or how to be around each other, and it felt like we were characters acting in a school play. What was left to believe when everything was a lie?

Upon reaching the hospital, a Caucasian man about five feet and eleven inches tall with black hair and blue eyes approached us.

"Hello, I am Dr. Alex Damon. Are you this lady's child?"

"Yes, I'm David."

"Are these kids your siblings?"

I nodded.

"We are doing our level best to revive your mother. Is there someone with you? Or are you alone?"

"It's just us."

"OK," he said as he turned to leave.

"Doc!" I cried as I grabbed his arm. "Please save her. She's our only hope."

"We will. Don't worry, son," he said, patting my back.

There was a chapel inside the hospital, and I walked in with Morgan and Casey. I knelt before God, which I had never done before. After a while Dr. Alex found us and ushered in the nurse to take Morgan and Casey into the play area. Turning towards me, he hugged me as I sobbed in his arms.

"She's OK now, it's all right ... it's gonna be OK," he assured me.

Although we had no health insurance or coverage, Dr. Alex did something remarkable: he sought special permission to waive the medical expenses. Honestly, that was probably the best news I'd heard since my dad's imprisonment. I couldn't believe it. It took a while to actually believe this, given everything that had happened up till now had been so awful. I had to ask him several times if my ears heard the truth.

"Yes! It's true, buddy!" he exclaimed.

For a moment, I stared at him, not saying a word.

"Everything OK?"

"Oh—nothing," I said, looking down. He called me "buddy," and only Dad called me that.

"I know what happened to you," he said as he sat beside me.

"Ohh," I said softly.

"I watched the news when I was in Louisiana on vacation to visit my niece."

"So, you did this because you wanted to empathize?"

"In a way, yes, but mainly because I couldn't turn my back on someone who'd been in a situation similar as to mine."

I turned to him in shock. Dr. Alex's family had immigrated from Italy. They didn't have the means to leave and make a life somewhere else. When he was ten, his uncle was convicted of sexually assaulting three girls. He never married, and his mom couldn't bear the humiliation and resorted to drugs.

The drug abuse worsened, and soon they were on the streets. Every door slammed shut in their face. His mom overdosed, and he couldn't find anyone to help them. 

"I still remember trying to flag cars down the road to help us out. But no one stopped," he said softly.

"I'm sorry, Doc, I didn't know—"

"When I saw you in the hospital, crying for your mom, it made my heart melt because I saw a lot of me in you. I vowed to become a doctor because I wanted to help other families. It became my passion. Helping someone makes them feel good, just the way people helped me along my journey. I feel good too. It's the least we can do," he said, turning towards me. "I don't want you to face what I went through. I think it's best that your mom goes to rehab, and you and your siblings get into foster care. There's a federally funded rehab center called Maddox Rehab Center, and they're pretty good. Don't worry, she'll get sober."

"I hope so," I murmured.

"Alrighty ... I should be heading back to doing my rounds," he said, opening the door for both of us.

"Can I ask you one last question?"

"Sure."

"How did you do it?"

"What?"

"Become a doctor from literally living on the streets?"

"Neglect is one thing but fighting hard for what you want helps you overcome your fears. You forget about them. Life sure does challenge you, but it it's great when you challenge it back."

I nodded slowly with a faint smile as he stepped out of the room.

Mom was discharged a couple of days later. She couldn't remember anything that had happened. It was all a blur, which was a blessing in disguise. Dr. Alex signed a certificate stating that Mom wasn't healthy and mentally stable to take care of us and required rehab treatment to get sober. He took the day off and joined us in sending Mom off. I drove us to the rehab center. We were indeed a broken family with nobody to lean on or seek comfort in.

Saying goodbye to her at the center was the hardest thing ever. She refused to accept that she wasn't capable of supporting us anymore.

"Believe me! I'm fine! Nobody can love them the way I do!" she screamed as she was taken inside.

I stood motionless.

"She's gonna be fine. You'll all be a united family someday, I promise," he said, patting me.

I knew he was just trying to be nice, but in reality, he knew the truth just as I did.

[sweepthedrabble]

Prompt: roar shared 2022-05-04

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Surfers, Octrabble

"Ah!" Daniel hisses from under his arm as the medic palpates his knee. He grinds his teeth against a swear, eyes stinging.

"Yeah," the medic sucks her teeth. "That's your ACL, or maybe the meniscus. Hard to be sure without an ultrasound. I can wrap it for you, give you some support getting home, but I don't recommend going back out there. Pop up onto your stick with a sprain like that and you'll probably tear it."

Daniel swallows, thick, and lets his arm fall to the side. He nods, blinking up at the peaked top of the canvas tent, because that's about what he expected. He wobbles back out a few minutes later, with a waterproof wrap banded around his leg.

"Daniel!" Ali rushes over in her striped swimsuit, hair bouncing, breathless and pink-cheeked, trailed by a slower, stern-faced Mr. Miyagi. "Are you alright? What'd they say?"

"Oh, uh," Daniel glances down at his leg. He feels like he's still underwater. "Sprained ACL or something."

Ali's face falls. "That sounds serious."

"Yeah," Daniel croaks. "They said I should probably pack it in. Might make things worse otherwise, I guess."

"Oh, Daniel." Ali links her arm through his, pressing tight against his side. She smells like jasmine and salt and sunscreen. All the best parts of summer.

Daniel clears his throat and cups his hand over hers where it's curled against his arm.

"They say anything about Bobby?"

"He got ejected from the tournament!" Ali says, sounding viciously pleased. "The judges were going to just give him a standard interference penalty, but your mother made a big stink about it so they threw him out."

"Great," Daniel groans. "That's just what I need, my ma fighting my battles for me right after I wipe out in front of everyone."

"Hey," Ali rests her cheek against his shoulder. "It's not your fault you had to bail on that wave. Bobby was being totally aggro, trying to snake it out from under you, and everybody knows it."

"Whatever," Daniel sighs. "We should probably just get out of here. Hey, can you go get my ma? Let her know I'm ready to go before she starts a riot?"

"Yeah, sure," Ali smiles, small and sort of sad, and jogs off, kicking up little spouts of sand as she goes.

Daniel watches her for a long second before he turns to his friend and teacher, standing placidly beside him in a loud Hawaiian shirt and a pair of weatherbeaten board shorts.

"Hey, Mr. Miyagi?"

"Hm?"

"You think I had a chance at winning?"

Mr. Miyagi offers him an encouraging smile. "Win, lose, no matter."

"I didn't mean it like that," Daniel sighs, then shakes his head. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter now, anyway. There's only one heat left and Johnny's way better than Vidal and Stone." He smiles, bitter. "Looks like Cobra Kai's taking home that trophy after all."

Mr. Miyagi is silent for a moment. He folds his hands behind his back, contemplating the distant breakers as they swell and roll and crash against the shore. Daniel, looking to take a page from Mr. Miyagi's book, closes his eyes and breathes, trying to let the faint roar of the ocean wash everything else away.

"Hai," Mr. Miyagi says, so sudden and unexpected that Daniel startles and has to take a stuttering step to keep from falling over. "Had good chance. But Daniel-san no need win, now. Prove point."

"What, that I'm just as much of a barney as they thought?" Daniel scoffs and shakes his head. "No matter what I do, I'm always gonna know those guys got the best of me. So much for balance, huh?"

Mr. Miyagi hums, low and thoughtful. After a moment's contemplation, he turns and faces Daniel, looking stoic and somber as ever. He meets Daniel's eye and claps his hands together.

**********

Johnny is standing at the shoreline with is stick under one arm, the glossy red rails gleaming in the afternoon sun. The surf streams back out, sucking sand from under his toes, and Johnny smiles. With LaRusso out of commission, this competition is his for taking, even if it makes his stomach twist a little to think about it.

There's a shrill squeak and the PA system blares to life, the familiar tenor of the tournament announcer hollering, "Ladies and gentlemen, exciting news! Despite a brutal wipe out in round three, Daniel LaRusso has decided to surf in the last heat of the day! This is what it's all about, folks! Four competitors, facing each other on the waves to see who will be the champion of this year's All Valley Surf Tournament! Let's hear it for Mr. LaRusso!"

Johnny can't even hear his own heartbeat over the roar of the crowd, rising like a tsunami overhead.

#sweepthedrabble

[i-growl-growl-growl]

yandere nct 127 reaction to getting bored of their s/o? 👠

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Warning! This contains yandere themes! Read at your own risk.

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Taeil: It would be hard for Taeil to get bored with his s/o because he’s not the most lively or ‘active’ yandere in the first place; preferring to spend quiet indoor time with his s/o. However, if he does get bored, he will try everything he can before considering replacing them because he loves them at this point and doesn’t want his efforts of kidnapping you going to waste.

“Hey, let's do something different and go out on a date. It’s been a while since I’ve taken you anywhere and things are starting to get a little boring. I know I’m not the most romantic guy, but I’ll give it a shot and I expect you to do the same or else I’ll have to punish you for being disobedient, alright?”

Taeyong: Being distant/detached and not giving him what he wants are some of the only ways his chosen s/o can bore him. Then, however, it becomes more annoying and aggravating. So, he’ll punish them by forcing them to do everything he wants for entertainment, but without any special treatment. They’ll have to earn it by being soft and warm to him.

Sigh “you’re beginning to bore me, y/n. Get over here, now. On your knees, kitten” he calls from his seat, demanding you to kneel between his legs. He grabs your jaw and forces you to look up at him. “Entertain me and I might forgive your poor attitude. If I’m not entertained, I’ll bend you over my knees and give you 15 spanks while you count. You can forget about dinner. Only good kittens get fed.”

Yuta: Similar to Ty. Before being kidnapped, they were everything he could want in an s/o, so he knows they’re just being a misbehaving brat. He’ll punish them and will only forgive their behavior if they beg him to, and they’ll have to entertain him with their affection or else he’ll continue to punish them.

“You ungrateful little brat. Many women would do anything to be my pet; I could easily replace you for someone more exciting. You’re a stupid little kitten if you think this behavior is acceptable! All fours. Now! Beg me for forgiveness. You’re not getting any special treatment from now on until you start pleasing your master like a good little kitten.”

Johnny: He’ll watch their behavior and will get irritated with their lack of enthusiasm for being treated like a princess. He goes the extra mile for them and they don’t even reciprocate! He’ll let them know how he feels and, if they won’t change, he’ll show them what happens when he loses interest. He’ll completely ignore them and won’t touch them, bringing around other women instead, and they’ll be forced to watch. He’ll only forgive them when they beg for it and prove themselves worthy of his attention again.

“Oh, you're sorry? You want me to forgive you? I’ll think about it. You see how replaceable you are- those women will do anything I say, so why should I put up with your behavior? I’m not tolerating it, y/n. You’ve got to prove yourself worthy of forgiveness. You can do it right now, actually” he smirks mischievously.

Doyoung: Will first talk to you about how he feels but, if that doesn’t work, he’ll take away everything he’s given you and will make you earn each one back. If you’re not going to act like the person he fell in love with, then he won’t treat you as such. He’ll be strict and will give you extra work to do, treating you like a maid rather than an s/o. Violence is more so of a last resort other than replacing you.

“My patients are running thin, y/n. I’ve tried being reasonable and fair with you, but since you insist on being a spoiled brat, I’ll have no choice but to punish you! I’m taking away all of your privileges and gifts. If you want them back, you’ll have to earn each one again and prove that you’re worthy of them. Don’t underestimate me, jagiya, I’ll resort to violence if I have to, but I’d rather you learn and correct your behavior first.”

Jaehyun: Usually, he would’ve been moved on to the next one, but you’re his s/o; he’s not just gonna discard you. Ever. Instead, if you’re being distant and cold, he’ll make you think that he will by manipulating you. He’ll take everything he’s given you and give it to someone else and will tell you exactly why and what he expects of you if you’re going to stay.

“Your necklace? Oh I gave it to (person). Luckily they have the same taste as you, so they’ll probably like their other gifts too. What? You’re not acting like my s/o, so I’m replacing you. Well, if you want to stay then you’ll have to be more affectionate and open with me like a good little girl/boy/other. Or else, I’ll have to find someone else to spoil. Got it?”

Jungwoo: Will be worried that your feelings for him are dying, which would cause him to think that he’s done something wrong. Will ask you what he can do to fix it. He’ll try to be reasonable with you because he wants a more ‘normal’ relationship. He’ll start spoiling you and will break down if this doesn’t work.

“Jagiya, what’s wrong? I hate to say it but I'm getting bored. This never happened before I brought you home, so why now? Did I do something? I’ve spoiled you but that hasn’t worked so what else can I do? I want a normal relationship so I’ll do whatever I can to make this work.”

Mark: He enjoys having time to himself and understands that boring times are normal. However, when you get to the point of being distant and cold, he’ll see this as ungratefulness and will quickly remind you that he doesn’t have to treat you kindly at all. He’ll slap/punch some sense into you until you begin to behave like an s/o should. You’d have to earn his affection again.

“You forget just how great you have it, y/n. I may spoil you, but that doesn’t mean you get to act however you want. You don’t want to act like my s/o? Fine, I won’t treat you as such. Get an attitude with me? I’ll remind you again who’s in charge in this relationship. Everything you get, I give you by choice- I don’t have to do shit, for you. Remember that.”

Haechan: Similar to Mark, he’ll beat you but he’s constantly on your ass, so it’s unlikely for it to get to this point with him. He’ll make sure he’s instilled it in your mind that, because he’s kinda high maintenance, you’d better keep him happy or else there’ll be hell to pay. If you do, he’ll make sure to spoil you as a reward.

“Jagiyaaa, I’m getting booored” He says in a warning tone. You correct yourself and begin snuggling him. “Ahh, that’s better. Tell me about your day, little one. How was it? I know you were in the house all day but it was for your own good. Since you’ve been good and even corrected your behavior, I’ll take you out to the park tomorrow and we can get ice cream. Sounds good, little one?”

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~Ahreum Rhea

#male yandere #nct yandere #yandere nct #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere taeyong #yandere reaction #yandere kpop asks #yandere nct 127

[markleesthighs]

good 4 u

pairing: guitarist/singer!y/n (fem) x badboy!jeno

genre: angst, fluff (if you squint), smut, strangers to lovers to enemies

song: good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo

a/n: mentions of cheating, breakup, depression, underaged drinking (please be safe!!) picture/GIF from @pureboyjun​

Everyone told you to watch out, everyone warned you about him, Lee Jeno. You and Jeno weren’t in the same friend group, you were as what society called an “art freak” with streaks of colors in your hair and black eyeliner. You also always kept guitar picks with you, always wanting to sneak into the music room and practice on the electric guitar. The wannabe’s compared you to an Avril Lavigne-type girl. Your best friends were also your bandmates, supportive of you and your dream, unlike your parents. You and your parents had a deal, as long as you kept good grades you could continue to play music as a “hobby.” 

You also worked at a music store, which is how you ran into Lee Jeno. He was looking for vinyl of a specific artist which happened to also be one of your favorites so you knew exactly where it was. He thanked you and you hoped that would be the last you’d see him. But he came in every day to talk to you and eventually had the courage to approach your lunch table. All your bandmates glared at Lee Jeno, knowing his reputation and his motives. Once he left they’d all trash him for trying to talk to you. 

“y/n you shouldn’t really associate with him.”

“Yeah, all of his ‘fangirls’ will tear you to shreds.”

“Jeno hits and runs, you better stop talking to him before it turns into something dangerous. You’ll only get hurt.”

You didn’t think much of their words, since Jeno wasn’t really your type anyway. There’s no way you could ever fall for him. Oh boy, were you wrong. Jeno went out of his way to swoon you in any way he could. He’d walk you home at night, visit you in the music room and at work, he’d even invite you to his lunch table where you’d be met with his other ‘bad boy’ friends. He would get you your favorite coffee, just the way you like it, and get your lunch order so you wouldn’t wait in line. All of this attention grabbed the attention of his fangirls, constantly threatening you about how “Jeno is mine!” and bullshit like that. You honestly didn’t care because you reassured them you and Jeno were not dating. 

That was until he invited you to a party, saying that you could meet his one friend that was also into music and could help you break out into the music industry. You agreed, excited to meet someone in the industry. When you arrived at the party, you met his friend who worked at Columbia Records, you bonded and everything got his contact information in hopes of getting an internship. Jeno met up with you again, asking you to repay him, in a game of fear pong (beer pong with truth or dare elements). You agreed, joining him on his team against Johnny and his girlfriend. One of the dares you guys had to do was make out for one minute or drink. You were about to drink when Jeno grabbed your face and started to make out with you. 

God, did he taste good. His lips were soft brushing against yours the taste of beer and light cigarette smoke made his lips only more addictive. Everyone watching was hooting and hollering at the two of you. Jeno licked the bottom of your lip, which you opened your mouth to let his tongue enter, causing your tongues to fight for dominance. Jeno’s ultimately dominated and touched your throat. You gave a small moan which only made Jeno kiss you harder. Johnny coughed causing you two to stop. 

“You realize you two were making out for like 5 minutes right?” Johnny laughed.

You pulled away but Jeno held on to you by your waist. 

“What can I say, Suh, she tastes really good, I wanted to savor it.”

That made you blush. You guys continued the game and you and Jeno won, out of excitement (and slight intoxication) you kissed Jeno. He looked at you in shock and you apologized before he kissed you back. Since that game, you two were attached to the hip the whole night. Jeno didn’t feel safe letting you go home so he let you sleep with him in a bedroom upstairs. When you guys were tucking in for the night he wrapped his arm around you pulling you closer to him. 

“y/n, I love you.”

You giggled “You’re drunk Jeno...get some rest.”

“No, I mean it.”

“You’re really funny.”

“Do you need me to prove it to you?” He spoke in a deep voice, shifting his body to hover above yours. 

“If I didn’t love you do you think I’d be feeling like this right now?” Jeno whispered into your ear. When he leaned down you felt his member rock hard against your thigh. 

“J-jeno, you’re confused, do you know what you’re doing right now?”

“If you want me to stop I’ll stop. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I can take care of myself in the bathroom if you don’t want to do it.”

As Jeno was moving off your body you wrapped your arms around his body to pull him back.

“N-no, stay, please.”

“Are you sure y/n, you sure you want to do this?”

“Y-yes.” Little did you know that you would regret sleeping with Lee Jeno. 

Jeno kissed your lips softly, knowing how tired you both are. You felt his member twitching with every kiss. He moved on to your neck, leaving soft kisses and a purple mark on your collarbone. He moved all the way down your stomach down to your flower. He kissed your thighs and ate you out vigorously, he was sucked down on your clit while fingering you. You were trying to hide your moans but Jeno hit your sweet spot almost every single time, causing you to not be able to contain yourself. You were tugging and pulling at his har which also caused him to moan. You were about to climax when Jeno pulled away which caused you to whine and pout. Jeno kissed your pouty lips as he pulled out a condom from the drawer (be safe kids!) and tore it open and put it on his member. 

He looked at you and asked again for your reassurance and you nodded. 

“I’ll be slow and gentle I promise.”

He slowly slid into you as you clenched around him you squeezed your eyes from the pain, he was a lot bigger than you thought. Jeno moans harmoniously along with you as he waited for you to let him move. 

“P-please m-move..”

Jeno smiled as with every thrust he kissed you, he made you feel comfortable in his arms. 

“F-faster, please...”

“What’s my name?”

“J-jeno! Please!”

“That’s daddy to you.” He said as he thrusted harder inside of you.

“Y-yes, daddy, please go faster.”

“Good girl.”

Jeno pushed harder and faster as you moaned louder and louder, finally climaxing with Jeno. Jeno removed the condom and threw it in the trash as he walked to the bathroom and cleaned you up along with a few kisses. 

“Hey Jeno?” Jeno turned to look at you.

“I love you too.”

After that night you and Jeno were going steady for a couple weeks until he ghosted you. He stopped talking to you and his friends would laugh at you or Jeno would tell you to go back to your old table. You heard their conversation as you were walking back. 

“I can’t believe Jeno got her to sleep with him.”

“Easiest fucking $100 he’s ever made.”

 When you went back to your bandmates you were broken. Endless nights of tears and suicidal thoughts swamped your mind. Why me? Why did I have to fall for his stupid trap? He only wanted me for some cheap cash huh? How can he just move on so easily? Did nothing we have mean anything? Well screw that and screw you, Lee Jeno. 

“Hey y/n?” One of your bandmates asked. 

“Battle of the bands' championship for the school is coming up, do you know what song we are going to cover?”

You looked at Jeno. “Oh, I fucking know what song we are going to sing.” 

You and your bandmates got the sheet music for good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo and practiced it until it became natural for everyone. Finally, the battle of the bands' championship occurred. It was hosted by your school to fundraise for the music program and scholarships. Before your group came up, you all huddled, and they all gave you the words of encouragement you needed to perform in front of Lee Jeno. 

“Sing it from your heart bitch.”

“Kill him with those words.”

“Make him feel like the shit head he is.”

As they hyped you up, you felt much better as you all walked out to stand on the stage. You saw Jeno in the crowd with his new supposed girlfriend. You began playing the first notes on the guitar. 

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?

You stared right into his eyes singing every lyric, letting him know what a scumbag he was for dating someone new in a few weeks when he confessed to you after he fucked your brains out. What kind of a person does that?

Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl

You raised your hand and pointed right at him and his new girl who looked like every other bitch who wanted to get with Jeno, you couldn’t compare to her, you had to show Jeno he made a mistake leaving you for $100. You wanted to make those $100 worth nothing because he left you for someone who’s only worth $1. 

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy, not me If you ever cared to ask Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby God, I wish that I could do that

You sang you heart out to those lyrics almost feeling emotional. How could Jeno sit there with a smile on his face while you almost crying during this set. You then realized Lee Jeno is an emotionless piece of shit. But just this once, you wanted to see him cry. 

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it But I guess good for you

It wasn’t fair that you cried endless tears, while Jeno came to school with a smile on his face. Your eyes would be dark and baggy from all the crying and endless sleep, but he came to school happier and brighter than ever, fuck you Lee Jeno. 

It's like we never even happened Baby, what the fuck is up with that?

Everyone forgot about you and Jeno the moment he dropped you. How come everyone took his side and let this slide past everyone? Did no one care about how you felt? How humiliated you were? How can someone forget something like that?

And good for you, it's like you never even met me Remember when you swore to God I was the only Person who ever got you? Well, screw that and screw you You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do

Jeno and you became strangers, nobodies, to each other just back at square one, how did this happen? He would complain about how his friends would make fun of his music tastes and hobbies, making you think you were the only one who understood him and supported him. You wanted to make him feel guilt and shame for toying with you. 

Maybe I'm too emotional But your apathy's like a wound in salt Maybe I'm too emotional Or maybe you never cared at all

You’ve thought about how you were the problem, that Jeno didn’t want you for you. He would act reassuring when you were in bed, but once he left you, he brushed off every concern you had. He never had any feelings for you. He never cared about you. 

Before the final chorus you pulled out a picture of you and Jeno printed out on paper and one of your bandmates set it on fire. The picture of Jeno’s face starting to well up with tears when everyone in the gym started to stare at him. It was music to your ears. 

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby Like a damn sociopath

You were now crying in the last chorus not out of sadness but out of joy, finally, Lee Jeno knows what it’s like to have his heartbroken. All of the other girls and guys were screaming and singing along with you, you were jumping and high-fiving all of them, rocking out to the music. Your mascara was dripping down your cheeks and you looked emotional and powerful. 

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

As you played the last chord on your guitar everyone was cheering. You thanked everyone for the performance as your group hugged your bandmates thanking them for getting you through the performance. You turned to look at Jeno one last time to see him crying. It was beautiful. 

good 4 u, Lee Jeno. 

#nct #nct imagines #nct imagine #nct jeno #lee jeno #nct angst #nct fluff #nct smut #nct smut imagines #nct jeno imagines #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct smut scenarios #nct jeno smut #nct bad boy au #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno x you #nct dream jeno #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream angst #nct dream smut #nct 2020 #nct 2018

[just-come-baek]

body rhythm

Pairing: Taeyong x reader | mentions of Seulgi x Irene | mentions of Johnny x almost everybody

Themes: smut | fluff | dance!au 

Word count: 14.8k

Summary: Taeyong and Seulgi participate in a nationwide dance competition. However, due to unfortunate scheduling, she has to drop out of it, suggesting you, out of all people, fill in. Taeyong isn't pleased with how things manage to fall out of place, but he is in no position to be whiny about it. For him, it's either learn to work with you or lose yet another time to his arch-enemy.

Warnings: a moderate amount of fluff | Johnny flirting with everybody in plain sight | Johnny stalks people out on social media | cursing | Doyoung being a huge dick | Doyoung flexing his hips | reader has inappropriate thoughts about Taeil | Taeyong being very demanding dance teacher | stressfull situations | drinking | reader is kind of bratty and Taeyong finds it really frustrating | frustrated/angry making out | as per smut | oral!female receiving | unprotected sex (never try it at home or else Imma tell your parents) | they kinda fuck in the open and kinda check our their refection in the mirror |

A/N it's my entry for song association event, I hope you like it, and also don't forget to check out other entries ^^ they must be all out by now lol

“Are you ready?” Johnny inquired as he set his fourth coffee of the day on his desk and plopped onto the swivel chair in a cubicle next to mine. It was a really long day at work, and we both had trouble sitting through the end of it. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked at the pile of documents that required my attention, groaning before I sprawled across my workspace.

“I thought it’s canceled tonight,” I spoke as I looked at my wristwatch, wincing when I realized there was still one more hour until Johnny and I could finally clock out.

A few months ago, our lovely firm, instead of giving us a well-deserved raise, had decided to provide us with a variety of extra activities. Though I’d rather get some monetary benefits, together with Johnny, we chose dance classes. Our company was paying for it, so we might’ve as well attended.

Ever since then, every Thursday, we would go to a dance class to sweat out all of the pent-up frustration. I didn’t have plenty of expectations, still bitter after the company’s decision, but the dance class turned out amazing. Seulgi was our teacher, and although she was a bit demanding, she was patient enough to teach us some sick moves. If that didn’t scream talent™, I had no idea what did.

“Well… last week, she said she might be absent today, but I got a text from school that someone will fill in,” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly. I sighed, checking my phone, reading the same text message from the studio. I really didn’t have energy for dance classes, but there was no way Johnny would let me skip.

“Do you want to grab a drink after? I think I need one, or a few,” I proposed as I sat back in my chair, trying to let my eyes rest from the computer’s screen.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Johnny asked rhetorically, smiling at me as if I just read his mind. It was almost Friday at this point, and we deserved a little treat.

Though it felt like an eternity, the clock finally struck 5 p.m., letting us leave our claustrophobic cubicles. Tomorrow we would come back for another dose of torture, but right now, we were free. Only for a few hours, though.

Quickly, I returned home to get my gym bag. Thankfully, I lived within walking distance from both – my office and the dance studio, so it wasn’t as troublesome to commute as it was for Johnny, who got stuck in traffic almost every day.

A few minutes before the dance class, I was already changed into my gym attire, waiting for Johnny. Though no one was texting me, I stared at my phone, furiously typing away. Moon Taeil, also known as my secret crush, was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor, and I tried every single trick my mind could come up with not to look desperate.

“At this point, he must think you hate him,” Johnny commented as he conjured in front of me out of nowhere. “You should hit on him instead of trying to bolt every time he approaches you,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at his yet another one shitty advice.

“Can you remind me why I don’t take dating advice from you?”

“Why are you attacking me? I just wanted to help. There’s no need to get so aggressive,” Johnny defended his case, not really answering my question. Johnny was a self-proclaimed love expert, but to me, he was more of a pathological playboy. Either way, he seemed to understand the secrets of flirtation to pick up girls whenever he set his mind to it.

“I am just trying not to be obvious,” I commented, stealing a glance at Taeil. It was a silly crush, and though Johnny encouraged me to go for it, I never decided to act on my feelings. Taeil probably didn’t feel this way about me, so remaining idle actually saved me embarrassment after an inevitable rejection.

“Speaking of which, I figured out why Seulgi is so resistant to my charms,” Johnny announced proudly, and I raised my eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal. Everybody in our group knew that Johnny was attracted to Seulgi, but every time he tried to approach her, she would brush him off.

“By figured out, you mean you stalked her, right?” I commented when Johnny handed me his phone, showing me Seulgi’s profile. According to what Johnny dug out in social media, Seulgi was getting married to Irene – her girlfriend of five years. “Huh,” I mused as I gave him back his phone, trying not to laugh at him. Seulgi was already madly in love with someone else, no wonder she could resist his charm.

“Call it whatever you want,” Johnny started, putting his phone away. “Just don’t hold me down when FBI finally recruits me for my impeccable detective skills,” he argued, and I laughed as I imagined him leaving our lovely company. That would be a shame; I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting in the cubicle next to mine.

“The room should be open,” someone hollered, mentioning for us to open the doors and get inside. I had seen him a few times around the school, so I deduced he must’ve been our substitute teacher today.

Once everybody took their spot on the dance floor, the man cleared his throat. “Hello everybody, my name is Taeyong. Together with Seulgi, we run this school, and I hope we will have a lot of fun today with new choreography,” he announced politely with a practiced professionalism. Perhaps Taeyong didn’t seem as cool as Seulgi, but we had to give him a chance to prove us wrong.

Taeyong was intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be left alone with him. When he showed us a few moves, he was immensely focused on delivering one hundred percent. It was impressive and admirable, but at the same, Taeyong gave off a scary fierce aura. Though he was a great dancer and teacher, Seulgi was just better.

“I think I have a heart attack,” I panted, gasping for air. The new choreography required lots of jumping, and I didn’t expect so much cardio today. I wasn’t out of shape; however, after dancing to Taeyong’s choreography, I had some doubts.

“We should’ve skipped,” Johnny commented, bending over with his palms on his knees, supporting his huge body. Taeyong’s dance routine was too much for us, and we weren’t the only people struggling to breathe. Thankfully, next week Seulgi would be back.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny announced, craning his neck to look inside my cubicle. Heaving a sigh, I put my pen down, giving him my full attention.

This better be good.

“What is it? Who are you stalking this time?” I inquired, giving him the attitude. Johnny was spending too much time on his phone during working hours, but I couldn’t really frown upon it because I often caught myself doing the same thing.

“First of all, I thought we agreed to call it researching, not stalking,” Johnny clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “And second of all, it’s Seulgi. She and the other guy from the dance studio qualified for some dance competition. Check this out,” Johnny explained, handing me his phone.

Seulgi and Taeyong rocked the stage. Though I had nothing to compare their performance to, they just oozed charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. Without any shred of doubt, they would make it to the grand finale.

“Wow,” I mused, not sure how to appropriately respond. I was happy for their success; after all, their performance was broadcasted during prime time on national television. At this point, Seulgi and Taeyong were celebrities.

“I can’t wait for today’s class,” Johnny added in excitement, hiding his phone away inside the pocket of his jacket. “I have to congratulate her.”

“Them. You have to congratulate them,” I corrected Johnny as he seemed to forget about Seulgi’s dance partner. It wasn’t a solo competition, so both Seulgi and Taeyong deserved praise. “And as if you’ve forgotten, Seulgi is not and will never be interested in you. You gotta let this one go, man,” I added, hoping Johnny would stop his relentless flirting with Seulgi. Though it was funny at the beginning, it was evident Seulgi would appreciate it if he stopped.

“I am all over her. Trust me,” Johnny reassured me, and I let out a shallow sigh, wanting to believe him. “Do you know Wendy from the HR department? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I am all over Seulgi,” he added, and it actually convinced me. Although Johnny didn’t seek anything serious at this point in his life, and when something didn’t go according to his plan, he would shake it off and forget all about it.

“Ok, I believe you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “Oh, and I was thinking… how about some beer and chicken after dance classes today? I’ve been craving them the whole day,” I offered, and Johnny enthusiastically nodded. It did sound like a solid plan.

Thankfully, this week Seulgi was back, and everybody appreciated it. Taeyong was a great teacher, but we were a group of beginners, and it was difficult for us to follow his routine. We just weren’t ready for such complex choreography.

Everybody had so much fun today. At first, we practiced some old routines, working on synchronization. Later on, Seulgi taught us a few new moves, which I recognized from her television performance. Admittedly, they weren’t as difficult as they looked. Maybe it was a little bold of me, but I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job today.

At the very end of the class, Johnny delivered a dramatic congratulatory speech, making people laugh out of utter cringe. It was a nice gesture, and Seulgi’s embarrassment was adorable. She would cover her blushed cheeks and turn around, hoping the ground could swallow her up. In all honesty, it seemed to be the only way to shut up Johnny.

Just when we were about to be dismissed, I heard someone calling my name. Surprisingly, it was Seulgi. She must’ve wanted to discuss something with me. Damn it, was she going to scold me for not improving? Or was it because I sat half of the song out? I just needed a short break; I had no idea it would get me in trouble.

“I am sorry,” I apologized even though I wasn’t sure what for yet. Seulgi would enlighten me in a second, so I cleared my throat to apologize to her once again. However, when she giggled instead of yelling at me, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Johnny hollered before he strolled out of the practice room.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, and Seulgi smiled, shaking her head.

Great, it was a relief.

“Actually, I may sound crazy to you,” she started, fidgeting a little. It was strange, Seulgi was a strong and confident woman, but right now, she seemed rather bashful. “Would you like to participate in a dance competition?”

Her question took me aback.

“What?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the topic.

“Let me explain,” she offered, and I reluctantly nodded.

By the look on her face, I could tell it wasn’t going to be a quick chit-chat. Seulgi had a lot of things to explain, so we decided to sit on the floor before she began her speech.

Patiently, I listened to everything she wanted to tell me.

Seulgi and Taeyong wanted to participate in a dance competition ever since they had decided to open up a dance school together. Last week they really thought they were going to achieve their dream. Unfortunately, as soon as they qualified and received the schedule, complications started to follow.

Maybe it was a little bit overconfident of them to think they’d make it to the finals, but it still made them anxious. Regardless of their talent, they wouldn’t be able to perform in the grand finale. Apparently, on the very same day, Seulgi was getting married.

At first, I wanted to interject that they could reschedule, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“It would be the third time we reschedule it, and I just can’t let that happen. I don’t want Irene to think I prioritize dancing over her. She means the world to me, and I’d quit a thousand times to get married to her,” Seulgi confessed, and I tried my best to contain my feels. There was something raw and pure about Seulgi’s love, and it moved me.

Seulgi’s proposition was genius in its simplicity. Together with Taeyong, she would perform, climbing up the rankings. And if by any chance, they would make it to the final round; she wanted me to fill in. Given I had been dancing at their studio for about four months I couldn’t comprehend why she chose me.

I was a rookie, for crying out loud!

Finding a substitute dancer made a lot of sense, actually. Instead of dropping out, they could find a replacement. This way, Taeyong could still make his dream come true. And next year, together with Seulgi, they could try to defend the title.

However, once again, Seulgi read my mind and answered my question before I voiced my doubts. She must’ve really thought this through before approaching me. It seemed she had rehearsed all possible inquires and came up with perfect answers.

“All of our dancer friends either compete against us or failed during qualifications,” she declared, and I hummed in response. “Unfortunately, people who already attempted joining can’t fill in for other dancers.”

“That sucks,” I commented, and Seulgi dryly chuckled.

“I think you would be a perfect fit,” she started, and I held my breath, wanting to hear what made her think I’d be able to rise to the challenge. “Everybody can memorize moves, but you have a natural passion for dancing. I can see it in class. Maybe you can’t see it yet because dancing is a hobby to you more than anything else, but I can tell you have the it™ factor.”

I was speechless. Seulgi, the dance prodigy, was praising my dancing skills. I couldn’t believe my ears. What kind of self-indulgent dream was it? Why couldn’t I dream like a normal person? I had tendency to toot my own horn sometimes, but it was just too much.

“I bet with proper training, you and Taeyong could win.”

“Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, of course! No pressure!” Seulgi replied enthusiastically, giving me enough space to clear my mind and think about it.

“See you next week.” I waved at her, exiting the dance room. Absentmindedly, I changed out of the gym clothes and walked out of the building, almost walking past Johnny.

“Hey, what did Seulgi want?” Johnny asked, grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of trance.

“She wants me to dance in her place if she and Taeyong ever make it to the finals.”

“What?!”

 ***

At first, I was hesitant about this whole thing. I wasn’t a professional dancer, and I really didn’t want to contribute to them losing the competition. However, Seulgi really made a point that they would have to drop out anyway, so in some twisted way, my participation gave them a slimmer of hope for victory.

Once I explained everything to Johnny, he really insisted I should help them out, spitting nonsense about fame and recognition and how I couldn’t doubt myself and just go with the flow. Opportunities like this rarely occurred, and I ought to welcome them with excitement.

So I did.

Every Saturday and Sunday, I dropped by the dance studio for practice. Taeyong still intimidated me, but I could deal with it. Seulgi was always around me to nag him whenever he demanded too much from me. They balanced each other very well, and it was fun working with them. Even though each practice left me with sore muscled, I was still excited. It was tangible proof I was improving.

Seulgi and Taeyong smoothly went through the contest, winning each battle with ease, slowly climbing in the ranking. There was still plenty of work until the grand finale, but everything looked they were to make it to the very top.

Unfortunately, the closer to the D-day, the less time Seulgi had to help us during practice. With her wedding coming up, she had a lot of preparations to deal with. As a result, Taeyong and I had to practice the dance routine on our own.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taeyong yelled in irritation when for the nth time, I turned to my right instead of my left. “Do it again; five, six, seven, eight,” he added, playing the song from the very beginning.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement of the century. I was aware that Taeyong really wanted to win the competition, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. With no Seulgi to supervise him, he was unbearable.

“I think I need a break,” I declared once I turned to the wrong side again before Taeyong managed to scold me for it. Even though he shouted something again, I ignored it. With a deep sigh, I walked over to my gym bag to get my water bottle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong asked, staring down at me with his arms folded across his chest, his demeanor dominant. His eyes were drilling holes in my head, his jaw was tightened – it was evident I was driving him up the wall. It was just a matter of seconds before Taeyong would snap, lashing out at me.

“I am taking a break,” I answered quickly, ignoring his angry stare. I was at my limit. If Taeyong didn’t back off, it would be the end of the practice for today. One more mean word and I’d storm out of the studio. I was here voluntarily. I was doing him a favor, and I didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

“Is it a joke to you?” Taeyong carried on, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t a joke to me. But at the same time, I was sick and tired of his shenanigans. I wanted him to win, but not when my mental health was on the line. He was pissing me off, and I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. “I thought you decided to help us out, but you’re not trying at all.”

He did not just say that.

“What?” I rhetorically asked, standing up, poking his chest with my forefinger. “I am trying my best here. You’re the one who makes it impossible to have fun dancing. You’re making it a chore, sucking all the fun out it.”

“Then tell me what I should do for you to finally make some progress? We’ve been stuck at this part for two weeks, and you still haven’t learned how to turn right!”

“Then go ahead and find someone else who can put up with your shit. I’m out,” I spoke, bending down to pick up my stuff, ready to leave the studio. Unfortunately, before I managed to exit the practice room, the doors opened, and Seulgi walked in with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” She asked in worry, trying to put two and two together. It wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong and I argued, but it seemed to be the most intense one so far. It didn’t sit right with her. “Please don’t tell me you fought again.”

Briefly, I summarized what happened, and Seulgi looked down at Taeyong disapprovingly. I was glad Seulgi took my side; after all, she knew Taeyong could be too demanding.

“I am a dancer, but why does it feel I am a couple counselor? You two really have to learn how to work together when I’m not around,” she scolded us, making her point. If this whole arrangement was to work out, we both needed to establish some ground rules and learn how to put our differences aside. “I have an idea.”

Oh, no.

There was something mischievous in her tone, and I didn’t particularly like it.

“Let’s finish for today,” she proposed, and I smiled, thinking it was a great idea. Taeyong and I needed some time to chill, and calling it a day seemed like an appropriate way to do it. “Let’s go out clubbing instead!” Seulgi added cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“What?” Taeyong and I asked in unison, a bit surprised by Seulgi’s statement.

“That’s my prescription for the two of you,” she started, and I rolled my eyes. Taeyong and I didn’t get along as well as she wished for us to, but it wasn’t that bad. We didn’t need to bond over a few drinks in a crowded club. We would do just fine if Taeyong learned to go easy on me. “I believe we all can benefit from clubbing.”

“How come?”

“First of all, it will remind Taeyong that dancing is about fun, not overworking oneself,” Seulgi spoke, and I hummed, agreeing with her. “Second of all, it’ll give you a chance to loosen up. Your moves are still a bit stiff during intimate parts of the choreography,” she added, and Taeyong nodded in agreement. “And I really need something to drink because wedding planning is stressful as fuck.”

Not even thirty minutes later, we were inside the club.

“It’s a very sensual song. And you two really have to work hard to convey emotions through your dance,” Seulgi started as she sipped her tropical cocktail. “You must feel comfortable around each other and just ooze longing and sexual attraction,” she added, and I almost choked on my drink.

Performing with Taeyong was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. When Seulgi and Taeyong showed me the choreography, I was amazed. Absolutely blown away. The way their bodies moved in synchronization left me speechless, but at the same time, I was a little bit nervous because I didn’t see myself living up to their level.

I wouldn’t consider myself particularly sexy. It made me feel awkward when I thought how seductive the dance routine actually was. I wasn’t sure I could pull this off, but Taeyong still had a lot of time to teach me.

“Take her to the dance floor,” Seulgi elbowed Taeyong, almost spilling his drink. Unenthusiastically, Taeyong looked at me before standing up and extending his arm.

Drunken people were jumping around us to the rhythm, and I awkwardly swayed from side to side, staring at Taeyong. With godlike precision, he moved, getting lost in the music. One could tell straight away Taeyong was a professional dancer.

Upon noticing how stiff I was, Taeyong shook his head, yanking me against his lean body. “How about you take a five-minute break to get that stick out of your ass? You look like you have no joints,” he yelled into my ear, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.

“I’ve had too little alcohol,” I replied, but Taeyong wasn’t having it.

“When we perform on the stage, will you need alcohol to let loose too?” Taeyong challenged with a playful smirk, and I rolled my eyes, too prideful to admit he was right. I couldn’t participate in that competition drunk. We wouldn’t win if I wasn’t able to come out of my shell and show everybody I had a sensual bone in my body.

“No,” I yelled into Taeyong’s ear. “How do I let loose?” I asked, hoping to hear some words of wisdom from him.

“Mirror what I’m doing,” Taeyong guided, and I nodded, focused on my new task. I could do that. I had been mirroring Seulgi’s movements during our classes, and I was pretty good at doing it. I could copy Taeyong’s moves.

At first, Taeyong danced a few classic moves we usually did during our warm-up routine. It was easy, and I think I nailed it. Later, he wiggled his upper body, feeling the rhythm. With envy, I observed how his body executed every single move, owning it. I wish I was half as good as Taeyong. Next to him, I probably looked like a crippled kid.

Upon noticing my struggle, Taeyong began jumping around, throwing his hands in the air. He looked ridiculous, but I remained focused on my task, dancing as if I was his shadow. Our bizarre moves earned some attention from other people, but our eyes were trained on each other, slowly getting lost in our own bubble.

I was sober, and I was on my way to owning the dance floor. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe Taeyong’s charisma overshadowed my poor attempts of showcasing mine; however, I was sure I made a big step in the right direction. Slowly, I was improving.

“How about we spice it up a little bit?” Taeyong shouted into my ear, and I cocked up my eyebrow, thinking what he meant by that. “Don’t be shy,” he added, yanking me against his body. Taeyong was so close I could feel his legs rub against mine. “Come on, sweetheart. Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” Taeyong snickered, getting on my nerves. Not only Taeyong was smug for no reason, but he also quoted the song, which I was slowly growing to hate.

Taeyong must’ve assumed I’d back out. Surely, he didn’t expect me to follow his instructions and actually run my hands across his chest, shoulders, and back while simultaneously swaying my hips, earning approving stares from impressed men on the dance floor. At first, he was surprised he talked me into it, but a second later, he smirked, resting his palms on my sides, slowly exploring the valley of my butt.

I had no idea I had it in me, but Taeyong helped me discover it. We were basically grinding against each other, and it somehow didn’t feel awkward at all. We were just two people having fun.

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” Taeyong apologized, shouting in my ear. “I’m just stressful all the time, and I think I may sometimes take it out on you,” he added, and I looked at his face, which was dangerously close to mine.

“It’s understandable,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around Taeyong’s neck, finding it much more comfortable. Now with our bodies pressed together, it was easier to have a conversation. “I know how much you want to win this competition. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and Taeyong released a relieved chuckle.

Who would’ve thought an adult conversation would work better than shouting at each other?

“Thank you,” Taeyong spoke genuinely, and I pulled away, staring at his face. His eyes were trained on mine. No matter how many hours we had spent at the dance studio, his gaze still intimidated me sometimes.

“Ekhm, I need a break,” I said in a desperate need to break eye contact with him. The dance floor was crowded, and it was making me dizzy. I was getting dangerously hot, and it seemed like heaven to get back to our booth and finish our drinks.

“Of course, you need a break,” Taeyong teased, sending me a lopsided smirk. “It’s okay, though. We still have plenty of time to work on your stamina,” he added as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the crowd. Carefully, we zigzagged around drunken people, trying to make it safely to Seulgi.

Unfortunately, by the bar counter, someone walked into Taeyong, almost knocking him down.

“I’m very sorry,” a man shouted, but I could sense the words weren’t genuine.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke, gritting his teeth, staring at the other man. Taeyong’s grip tightened around my hand. I figured he didn’t particularly like Doyoung.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung sighed, checking Taeyong out from head to toe before his gaze shifted to me. There was something spiteful about his lingering eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. For sure, there was some bad blood between two men, and I suddenly felt an urge to know more. Inquisitiveness got the best of me.

Taeyong and Doyoung kept glaring at each other almost as if it was a competition. The tension was so intense one could cut it with a knife. I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to break their stare contest, but they didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“I saw your last performance,” Doyoung finally spoke, scoffing. “You’re getting out of it, and here I expected to kick your ass in the finale. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your partner got eliminated next week.”

I thought I had seen Taeyong furious, but right now, I was proven wrong. The way he looked at me whenever I was a handful during our practice was nothing compared to the way he glared at Doyoung. Taeyong was scary, and I decided to not get on his wrong side ever again.

“I’d gladly kick your ass here, but I’d rather wait for the finale. You know what people say about prolonged gratification,” Taeyong talked back, and I gasped, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Taeyong was getting cocky, and it made me nervous. I was already stressed about the possibility of performing, and he just added more pressure on my shoulders.

“We’ll see about that,” Doyoung replied, focusing his scrutinizing gaze on me. “But I have to say I kinda look forward to seeing you cry again. The way I beat you the last time was spectacular.”

“Let’s go, Taeyong. Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s not worth it,” I exclaimed, pulling Taeyong’s hand, reminding him I was there the whole time. I couldn’t listen to Doyoung talk trash about Taeyong. If Taeyong wasn’t going to walk away by himself, I had to intervene and pull him aside. Doyoung was provoking him.

“And who is that?” Doyoung asked in a mocking tone, displeased by the way I looked at him. Though I didn’t know the back story, I took Taeyong’s side. At least, Taeyong didn’t try to humiliate his rival, while Doyoung had already tried a few tricks to tick Taeyong off.

“You’re right,” Taeyong said, looking at me. It was evident he was holding himself back, trying his best not to take the bait. “Let’s go,” he added, pulling me away from Doyoung.

“Who was that?” I asked as we approached our booth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my response. Upon arrival, we noticed that Seulgi was sprawled on the table, giggling to herself.

“Is she always like this?” I inquired, concerned about how drunk Seulgi got in such a short amount of time. We were gone for thirty minutes tops, and she was barely conscious after drinking her and our drinks.

“Aww… there you are… my dear friends,” she cooed cutely, trying to attack Taeyong with cuddles. She was adorable, but it was kind of irresponsible to drink by herself when we were on the dance floor. Thankfully, nothing happened. We returned just in time to collect her and escort her home.

“I can’t believe my plan worked,” Seulgi grinned, pointing her finger at Taeyong. “You no longer have a stick up your ass,” she exclaimed at Taeyong, too drunk to realize she should be talking to me. “And look at you! You were having fun!” Seulgi yelled, extending her arms to hug me. “I am so proud of you!”

“I should take her home,” Taeyong reasoned, considering it the safest option. He could call an Uber for Seulgi or just phone her fiancée to pick her up but bringing her home himself seemed to be the most rational solution. “Will you be alright by yourself?” He inquired, and I nodded right away. It was sweet of him to look after me too. Thankfully, I barely touched my cocktail; I could get home safely on my own.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied casually, sending him a reassuring smile. “Just make sure Seulgi makes it home safe,” I added, warming up at the way Taeyong hauled up Seulgi, carefully leading her out of the club. It made me wonder if Johnny did the same to me. Probably. He wouldn’t be that gentle, though. If anything, he’d throw me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Or just drag me out like a corpse.

“Give me a call once you get back home,” Taeyong demanded before we parted ways.

 ***

“You went clubbing without me?” Johnny dramatically asked after I told him everything that happened on the weekend. Despite my detailed narration, it seemed as if that was the only thing he caught on to. “How could you?”

“Relax, dude,” I rolled my eyes, shuffling around my desk, getting ready for work. It was Monday morning – it was about time we start our gossip routine.

“And I was wondering… would you mind helping me researching this shady dude? There’s some conflict between him and Taeyong. And I need to know what happened,” I started, wondering if Johnny would cooperate with me and put his stalking abilities to good use.

I was too embarrassed to ask Taeyong about Doyoung. Besides, I had a hunch he would either brush me off or scold me.

“Do you know anything about this dude besides his name?” Johnny pulled out his phone, no questions asked. “Please, don’t tell me that’s the only thing you know.”

“I mean… he’s probably a dancer,” I added with a sheepish smile, making Johnny heave a deep sigh. “He must be a big deal, though. Apparently, Taeyong lost a competition to him.”

“I’ll try to find some dirt, but it may be difficult given how little info you gave me,” Johnny declared as he began his thorough research.

It took Johnny five minutes to find the correct Doyoung. It was remarkable. If it wasn’t enough for the FBI to hire him, I’d gladly present them a recommendation letter. Quickly, I opened Doyoung’s profile on my phone, scrolling through his feed.

At first glance, Doyoung seemed to be a regular bratty internet star with an overgrown ego. His follower count was impressive. Studying his profile, I learned a lot about him. Unfortunately, it had no value. There was nothing specific about his conflict with Taeyong.

“How was your date with Wendy?” I asked Johnny as I gave up on my research. Whatever was the root of their bad blood would have to remain a mystery.

“It was fine,” Johnny started, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely honest. His disappointed tone betrayed him. “She left before the waiter brought the dessert. Apparently, she didn’t particularly like when I kept calling her Wanda.”

“Ouch.”

“No hard feelings, though,” Johnny shrugged it off, trying to focus on the positive aspect of their terrible date. “At least, I’ve had two slices of cheesecake. Besides, I’m kind of into Sooyoung from the creative team now. I think she is the one.”

“Every girl you’re into is the one,” I interjected, rolling my eyes, done with his antics.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve forgotten,” Johnny chimed in, staring at me in excitement. “Taeil asked me about you,” he revealed, and I almost spat out my morning coffee.

“What?”

“Are you still into him, though?” Johnny inquired, rubbing his temple in deep thought. “I haven’t heard you gush about him these days,” he pinpointed, and I wondered if my crush on Taeil was still as intense as it was a few months ago.

Taeil was insanely hot. I kept drooling whenever I saw him operate the printer. It was inappropriate to check him out whenever he bent down to change the ink, but I couldn’t help myself. Or whenever we met by the vending machine.

Good old times.

Right now, though, I rarely caught myself thinking about him. At first, I thought it was due to a hectic schedule. I was either at work or at the dance studio or getting shit-faced with Johnny on another wild adventure with him and his friends.

It was difficult to comprehend how easily my crush faded into thin air. Taeil was still sexy as fuck, but while I appreciate his looks, I wasn’t daydreaming how to get into his pants. At this point, I was just admiring his attributes in the most nonsexual way imaginable.

Apparently, the lack of response on my part was everything Johnny needed to confirm his suspicion.

“So what? Are you into Taeyong now?” Johnny asked boldly, and now, I actually choked on my coffee, thinking I heard him wrong. How did he jump to that conclusion?

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it kinda looks like you’re into him,” Johnny commented, playing with a pen. “You talk about him all the time with lots of passion. I think there’s something going on between you two. Is he single?”

“I talk about him all the time because I live to complain, and recently he’s the sole reason why I gotta vent,” I defended, but Johnny didn’t seem convinced. “And I don’t know if he’s single. I don’t really care,” quickly, I rejected all accusations, but in all honesty, his words got me wondering.

Was I attracted to Taeyong?

Surely, Taeyong was ridiculously attractive. He danced well, too. Unfortunately, we didn’t click much. There was passion between us, but it wasn’t romantically stemmed. We just kept annoying each other. I wouldn’t consider it sexual. We were just getting on each other’s nerves often, unable to properly solve our differences.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey,” Johnny teased, and I fought the urge to throw the stapler at him. “I bet fifty bucks you’ve imagined him naked, fucking you dumb.”

What the fuck, John???

I did not imagine Taeyong naked!

Not until now, at least.

“I seriously hate you right now,” I complained, deciding it’s about time I focus on work.

 ***

After Johnny had planted naughty thoughts in my mind, each dance practice was unbearable. My mind was running wild, coming up with different scenarios involving Taeyong and me in intimate situations. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

After months of practicing the dance routine, we decided it would be best to make some changes to the choreography. Though it was still sensual as hell, with our hands roaming each other’s bodies, we found it crucial to accentuate Taeyong’s talents.

It was a strategic plan. While typically male dancers helped the female dancers shine, we put a little twist to it. Though our performance was still pretty balanced, Taeyong had a few crucial parts of choreography, in which he would snatch everybody’s hearts.

Seulgi didn’t object to our strategy. Well… she was never there, to begin with. Seulgi was a ghost, never present during our practice, always busy doing some last-minute wedding prep.

“Let’s take a five,” Taeyong hollered as he turned off the music, sending us off to a short break. It sounded weird when it came out of his mouth, but I didn’t complain. We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past hour. At this point, I was panting.

Lying down onto the floor, I rested my head on my towel, reaching for my phone. Quickly, I unlocked it to see a series of notifications from Johnny. He had sent me a link to a video, telling me in all caps to watch it.

Having left the earphones in the locker room, I played the video quietly through my phone’s speaker. It was a short film with Doyoung. It must’ve been his performance from last year’s competition. Jamming to the music, I studied his moves.

Doyoung was really good. I mean… it wasn’t professional expertise, but I could tell he had talent. His body control was impeccable, his hip thrusts must’ve impregnated plenty of women in the audience, but his shoulder rolls were just otherworldly. Along with the female dancer, they showcased quite the performance. From the beginning to the very end, I couldn’t look away, failing to notice Taeyong approach me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taeyong shouted, tearing my phone from my hand, double-checking what I was watching. “Why are you watching this?” He angrily asked, locking the device, wishing for it to stop playing music.

It was difficult to explain.

I couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong that I asked my best friend to do research on Doyoung in hopes of finding out what was the root of their conflict. Though we had never found anything substantial, Johnny would send me more footage to check out. However, regardless of how much stuff Johnny had provided me with, I was still clueless.

“Why are you shouting at me?” I spoke, biting on my bottom lip. I was in big trouble, so it was only logical to play dumb.

Taeyong stared down at me, demanding a genuine answer. His jaw was tensed, his knuckles around my phone turned white. It was just a meaningless clip, but it got him fuming at me. Regardless of what I’d tell him, he wouldn’t like the answer. I figured this much.

“Why were you watching that?” Taeyong yelled, raising his hand, almost smashing my phone against the floor. Thankfully, he held back and gently put it on my bag.

It was incredible how much the video affected Taeyong. The movie worked on Taeyong like a red rag to a bull. One moment he seemed fine, but once he figured out what I was watching, he snapped.

“You really want to know?” I challenged as I rose to my feet, staring at him. It was my turn to raise my voice. If he kept shouting at me, I was going to give him the same treatment. “Ever since that night at the club, I was curious. You were basically throwing daggers at each other, and I really wanted to know what happened between you two. You never bothered to explain it, and I didn’t want to push you.”

“Do you have your answers now?” Taeyong exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, agitating him even more with my fed-up behavior. He was scary right now, but I refused to let him intimidate me. “Or do you want to read my diary too?!”

I resisted the temptation of saying yes to his offering. Taeyong wasn’t the type of person to write a dairy. He was exaggerating, but I didn’t want to provoke him further. At any mention of Doyoung’s name, wrath took control over Taeyong, turning him into his destructive self.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know shit about him,” I confessed, throwing my hands in the air. “I wanted to know what he did to you, but I came up with nothing. And believe it or not, the way he treated you that night made me worry. You’re my dance partner, and I care about you a lot, and it really hurt me seeing you in distress,” I spat, not thinking about consequences. I was talking without filter, probably spilling too much information.

My verbal diarrhea confused Taeyong. His huge eyes were staring at me in astonishment. He was studying my expression, wondering if everything I said was true. Oh, no! My reckless words made him uncomfortable. He must’ve grown to hate now.

In embarrassment, I looked down at my shoes. I felt terrible, and I needed to come up with something clever to say to save my dignity and ease the tension. However, before I managed to voice my sincere apology, I felt Taeyong’s hands cup my cheeks as he surged forward and kissed my breath away. It was sudden, but I reciprocated the kiss in an instant.

Stress, anxiety, anger, sexual frustration, and probably many other factors led us to this very moment. I had been daydreaming about Taeyong’s mouth on mine for a while now. And when it finally happened, I eagerly swept my tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. Though I had tried my best to withstand the tension between us, I wasn’t oblivious to it.

Taeyong already knew almost every inch of my body, so his hands naturally began roaming across my skin. Moaning into the kiss, he held me closer, keeping me pressed against him.

“Taeyong,” I breathed out as I pulled away, only for Taeyong to smash his lips against mine again, successfully shushing me. This time around, the kiss was even more passionate, making my knees weak. In a rush, Taeyong pushed me against the wall, pushing his thigh between my legs. “We shouldn’t,” I spoke, but my tone wasn’t convincing at all. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince that it was a bad idea.

“Shut up,” Taeyong demanded as he tilted his face, sucking on my bottom lip. His hands were on my butt, kneading my flesh, trying to make me moan into his mouth. In all honesty, it worked. Maybe, I whimpered incoherent sounds, but it’s was just a poor attempt to encourage him to keep kissing me.

Regardless of how much he was to gift me, I needed more. I wasn’t going to stop until I’d take everything Taeyong was willing to give.

I craned my neck to the side, and Taeyong quickly caught on, leaving a wet trail down my neck. His lips were delicate, careful not to leave a mark, while his hips were grinding against me, letting me feel how stiff he already was.

“Legs,” Taeyong ordered, gently slapping my thigh. Obediently, I spread my legs apart, letting his hand cup my sex. It was ridiculous how horny he was making me. Once his raspy voice echoed in my ears, I fulfilled his wish, waiting for another command in excitement.

“Please,” I begged, needing more of him. Whatever he planned on doing to me, I needed it now. Whether he was to tease me with his beautiful fingers or fuck me raw with his cock, he better do it now.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, pressing feather-like kisses along my collarbone. His touch was driving me insane. His hands were everywhere but where I wanted them the most. This type of teasing should be illegal.

It was more than I could take, so I took matters into my own hands. I could play this game, too. With a mischievous smirk upon my face, I hooked my forefinger under the band of his tracksuit bottoms. Unfortunately, Taeyong quickly swept my hand away.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Taeyong commented before he captured my lips again, sliding his tongue into my mouth, knowing I’d talk back to him. “You have to do everything your way. Would it kill you if you listened to me at least once?” Taeyong muttered, staring into my eyes.

Yes, I was a brat. Taeyong wanted me to submit to him, and I would do it eventually, but not before I’d tease him first. What was fun in that?

“Don’t answer that,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. Though we barely hung out outside the dance studio, Taeyong learned a lot about me. Having an answer to everything was one of those things he had the pleasure of discovering.

“Just fuck me, please,” I said nicely, staring into his eyes, hoping it would be enough to make him cave. “I can’t take it any longer,” I added, rubbing my loins against his restrained cock, making him let out a guttural moan.

My plan was working. Slowly, Taeyong was giving in, probably taking his time to think about the consequences of letting me experience instant gratification. Orgasm would’ve been sweeter if he made me wait a bit more, but it was difficult for him to control his urges.

Without any doubt, Taeyong wanted to bury his cock inside of me as much as I wanted him to fuck me dumb. We withstood so many practices without jumping at each other – I should consider it foreplay.

“Fine, but I’m gonna eat you out first,” Taeyong spoke, and I almost lost it by just imagining his jaw going between my thighs. Swiftly, he knelt in front of me, pulling my leggings down to my ankles in one fluid motion. Having kicked off my gym shoes, I wiggled the fabric off my feet, sending it flying across the dance studio.

Taeyong ran his fingers across my panties, inspecting how soaked they already were. With a smirk upon Taeyong’s face, he pressed a chaste kiss against my skin above the waistband before he yanked the undergarment down.

“Beautiful,” he said under his breath before he surged his face, taking my clit between his gorgeous lips, making me tilt my head in pleasure. Frustration got me sensitive. Even the slightest touch got me purring in delight.

Taeyong licked and nipped at my entrance, and I run my hands through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. He flicked his tongue, and I buckled my hips, wanting more.

“I need your fingers,” I pleaded, looking down at him. Taeyong looked breathtaking, with my juices were dripping down his sharp jaw, with his lips turned into a satisfied smirk. He was proud of how he was making me feel. His glistening skin was the very evidence of his skillful moves. “Taeyong, please, I am so close.”

Though I didn’t expect him to, Taeyong listened to my humble request. His middle finger slid right it, making me purr in satisfaction. I could finally feel him inside of me, and it was heavenly. His palm moved quickly, working me up.

The first orgasm was building up. Taeyong was fucking me now with two fingers while his mouth was fiddling with my clit. If it wasn’t for Taeyong’s palm, holding me still, I’d buckle right into his face for more friction.

“I’m about to come,” I declared, shutting my eyes close. As tempting as it was to peek at the mirror on the other wall and check out the view of Taeyong eating me out, it was more than I could take. My instinct to squeeze my eyes shut and welcome the orgasm was too much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

Before tiny tingles of electricity could unite and explode, shooting through me like a lightning strike, Taeyong pulled away, denying me of my orgasm. It physically hurt when instead of a blissful peak, I felt nothing.

“What the fuck?” I barked angrily, ready to pull him by his hair against my sex and press him against me, so he could finish the job.

“We’re coming together, or we’re not coming at all,” Taeyong sternly replied, standing up. His lips were swollen from all the work he was doing, and they looked even more kissable.

“I’ve never pegged you for such a teaser,” I stated matter-of-factly, still a little bit butt-hurt over the way how smug he was about not letting me come first. Maybe I was a handful most of the time, but I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such treatment.

“I’m not,” Taeyong chimed in, biting down on his lip. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to punish for your misbehavior,” he explained, and I got it where it came from. I wasn’t the best student he could work with. “Isn’t it the sweetest torture?” Taeyong challenged before he surged forward, smashing his lips against mine again, raising my thigh and giving it a gentle rub.

“Please, Taeyong, I need you inside of me,” I begged as I ground my sex against his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t comprehend how self-disciplined and patient he was; his budge was throbbing underneath his pants. It must’ve been painful for him, and he did all of that to teach me a lesson. “Fuck me, already.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I got you,” he softly spoke as he hoisted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. “To be honest, I expected you to lose it sooner,” Taeyong added, and I hoped he was talking about my sanity. I endured more than enough; his teasing was too much.

“How should I fuck you?” Taeyong asked, looking around the practice room, seeking a perfect spot to stuff his cock inside of me. We didn’t have a lot of options, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me in the middle of the room, and I’d eagerly spread my legs for him. “Screw it,” he cursed, gently lowering me down onto the floor. “Do you mind?” Taeyong inquired, and I shook my head as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing him against me.

“Strip,” I ordered, and Taeyong smirked before he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his lean physique. My eyes marveled at his beautiful shoulders and toned muscles. I had touched him more than I could count, but I never saw him bare, and when I finally did, I gawked.

“What about you, sweetheart? Come on, I am waiting,” Taeyong teased, and I took off my T-shirt. I was only in my sports bra, and Taeyong bit his lip, staring down at me, admiring my simple beauty. With no further comment, Taeyong leaned in, attacking my collarbone. It was hot how attentive he was, but right now, all I needed was his cock buried deep down my cunt.

Desperately, I reached to his sweatpants, palming his erection through the fabric. As soon as I touched him, Taeyong released a needy growl, rolling his hips into my hand, finally giving in to the pleasure. He lost his self-restraint, and now, he seriously needed to fill me up with his throbbing length.

“Take them off,” I breathed out, pulling by the hem of his pants. With a lowered head, Taeyong tsked before he yanked them down to his knees, wriggling out of them. Just as I expected, his cock urgently entailed my attention.

Though the thought of blowing him crossed my mind, I eventually decided not to entertain this idea too much. It was apparent Taeyong wanted to him inside of my pussy. I’d suck him dry on a different occasion. Hopefully, it would happen soon.

“Fuck me, Taeyong,” I moaned as I trembled when the tip of his cock brushed against my folds. I was embarrassingly sensitive after his ministrations, and he dared to tease me again. “Please,” I begged as I gave his length a few gentle strokes, aligning it with my entrance.

“Aaahh…” Taeyong growled, slowly pushing his dick inside of me. Inch by inch, he filled me up, stretching my walls. A lot of different sinful noises came out of his mouth as he began steadily thrusting his hips.

Taeyong’s stamina was no joke. It was hard to believe how long he could snap his hips without messing up his rhythm. His low voice mixed with my desperate moans echoed inside the room, creating a wicked symphony along with the sound of our sweaty bodies smashing against each other.

He was fucking me hard, and I was in seventh heaven. Taeyong was filling me up so good; I could come undone on his cock anytime.

“Taeyong,” I moaned his name as I watched him fuck me. Though it was hot to look at his cock disappear in my pussy, it was even sweeter to stare in the mirror. With my head turned to the side, I studied the whole picture how Taeyong was fucking me.

“I am coming,” I screamed as I felt the bliss approach. Taeyong was panting, struggling to maintain his tempo with the way my walls tightened around his sensitive cock. Once he hit my sweet spot, I was a goner. After a few thrusts, I came, digging my nails in his back.

“Fuck,” Taeyong cursed, shouting my name as he shot his load inside of me, collapsing on top of me. We were a breathless mess, our bodies sticking together, but neither of us minded. At this point, we were too spent to care. “You were incredible,” Taeyong whispered as he pulled out, rolling to the side.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” I panted, giggling, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t pay much attention to my playful jab. “I meant it what I said,” I added, turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Taeyong started, staring into my eyes, showing me his sincerity. “I just can’t help myself but get angry when I see him or hear about him,” he continued, and I nodded my head, letting him know I was willing to listen.

I didn’t expect that Taeyong would agree to vent to me, but when he did, I patiently heard him out. After all, I was pretty sure we were at least friends now.

“It all happened about a year ago. We were competing in the same contest, and he made my dance partner quit. Doyoung seduced her, toyed with her, and once the trophy was his, he dumped her. Because of him, I was disqualified, and she quit dance altogether.”

Listen to his story made me both sad and angry. Doyoung had been a dick to interfere like that – he must’ve known he hadn’t stood a chance against them in a fair fight. My blood was boiling in my veins as I put all the pieces together.

Sadness took over next. The way Doyoung had manipulated Taeyong’s dance partner was upsetting. The wound had been cut so deep, she couldn’t have forced herself to keep going. Doyoung had wrecked two lives, and it made my blood boil, too.

“We’re gonna beat him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do,” I spoke, reassuring him. It was impossible to tend the wounds, but the least I could do is help Taeyong win. For what he had done, Doyoung deserved punishment. If I were Taeyong, I’d not hesitate to beat him up.

“I hope so,” Taeyong muttered, reaching for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s still fine if we don’t. I’m pretty sure karma will get to him eventually,” he added with a sigh.

“I’ll work harder,” I declared, feeling an extra wave of determination wash through me. “I’ll try my best,” I said, and Taeyong smiled fondly, content to hear me say it.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

For a while, we were staring at each other. It felt nice and somehow more intimate than all the fucking we had done. If we were in bed, I could do it all night. Unfortunately, we were still lying on the uncomfortable floor.

“Let’s get washed up before we get too sappy,” I added, trying to ease the tension. I really enjoyed it, but it was getting a little too much.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the shower with me. You know… water bills are a bitch,” Taeyong spoke, and I giggled at his bullshit excuse, finding it incredibly cute, considering what we had been doing a few minutes ago.

“Of course they are,” I deadpanned, chuckling. Though his excuse was lame, I liked Taeyong enough to go with it. “Come on. Let’s go. I don’t want anyone to catch me naked.”

 ***

After that one time at the dance studio, Taeyong and I made it a regular thing. However, we kept it civilized. We wouldn’t jump each other’s bones in the open like animals like we had done the first time. Usually, we would go on small kind-of-dates, which consisted of picking up food, going to my or his place, and then rolling in the sheets.

We were having lots of fun. It was a perfect way to de-stress. After all, the finale was this Saturday, and we were nervous as hell. In all honesty, I was still scared, but these orgasms were numbing my anxiety.

“I think that’s it,” Taeyong spoke, and I smiled brightly, unable to contain my joy. It was the first time Taeyong ever approved of our performance. Most of the time, he was nitpicking, complaining about the slightest mistake, but finally, he was satisfied with it.

I was ecstatic; I never expected to live up to Taeyong’s approval. Through hard work and persistence, I managed to earn his eulogy.

“What should we do now? How about we order some food?” I asked, feeling in a celebratory mood. Maybe it was a little bit too early to drink to this small success, but it’s still worth a shot.

“We should do it again. We should dance it flawlessly at least a couple of hundred consecutive times before celebrating,” Taeyong seriously replied, and I rolled my eyes. Despite his painstaking nature, a couple of hundred times, it was a bit too much. Even for him. “Don’t give me that look. Let’s start again; five, six, seven, eight.”

Though usually, I’d complain and try to force him into a five-minute break, right now, I was oddly energized. We were dancing for the past two hours, and I was panting out of exhaustion. Nevertheless, the thoughts of finally mastering the choreography kept me going.

“I’m pretty good at this,” I confidently commented while roaming my hands across Taeyong’s shoulders before he twirled me around to the rhythm. I could tell that Taeyong was just waiting for an excuse to pause the music and scold me for making a mistake. However, much to his dismay, I executed every move impeccably. “I had a pretty good teacher,” I added, stroking his ego. The D-day was approaching, and Taeyong obviously needed an extra boost of confidence.

“I must admit you were a piece of work. I have no idea what kind of sorcery is this,” Taeyong teased, staring into my eyes. We had practiced the routine plenty of times; we could probably perform it in blindfolds and not make a single mistake. “I must be a magician or something.”

“Don’t push it,” I warned him in a very non-threatening tone, making him smirk. “But it’s only partially your success. Seulgi told me I have the it™ factor,” I proudly said, cracking Taeyong up, messing the choreography. “Is it a student-has-become-the-master kind of moment?” I asked, laughing at Taeyong. For the dance prodigy, he was getting distracted way too easily. It was suspicious.

With a broad smile upon his face, Taeyong grabbed my wrists, making me look at him.

“How about we finish up for today? I have a surprise for you,” Taeyong said, and I cocked my eyebrows, biting my bottom lip. “Not that kind of surprise,” he added, rolling his eyes at me. “We might get it on later, though.”

“What kind of surprise then?”

“Wait a second,” Taeyong spoke, quickly jogging out of the practice room. In a minute, he was back with a garment bag in his hands. “Here, that’s for you. Seulgi came in the morning to drop it off for you,” he explained, and I pulled down the zipper. It was going to be my costume for the contest, and I was curious how it looked.

I was speechless. At first, I thought it was a joke. I wouldn’t be able to perform in that. However, the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was a simple white suit shirt, but when mixed with a leather body harness, high-waisted shorts, and boots, it fitted the concept beautifully.

“Do you like it? I thought it was too revealing, but Seulgi insisted you would look amazing in it. I mean… it fits the mood, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we still have some time to find something else,” Taeyong blabbered, and my heart swelled. It was very sweet of him to consider my comfort above anything else.

“It’s skimpy, but it’s fine. I like it,” I replied, having no idea where my confidence was coming from. A few months ago, I’d be anxious to even try it on in the confines of my bedroom. However, now I was planning on showing a lot of skin on national television during prime hours on the weekend. I must’ve gone insane.

“Do you want to try it on?” Taeyong challenged, pulling the hangers out of the bag.

“You mean… here?!”

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time you took off your clothes in the middle of the practice room,” Taeyong concluded, smiling at me mischievously.

“Pass,” I firmly rejected his dare, even though it felt tempting. “It’s not fun when I’m doing it alone,” I added, and Taeyong grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, more than ready to discard his clothes in a blink of an eye. “Don’t fool around,” I warned him, placing my hand over his before he managed to take his T-shirt off.

“You’re right. Let’s go to my place first,” Taeyong agreed, zipping the bag before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the practice room.

 ***

 On the day of the performance, I woke up with a terrible stomach ache. No matter how much fantastic sex Taeyong and I had, I was not mentally prepared to perform in front of the whole nation. I felt sick, almost as if my body was telling me to quit before I’d embarrass myself on national television. Stress was eating me from the inside.

“What are you doing up so early? Let’s go back to bed,” Taeyong purred in his raspy morning voice as he sneaked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “You need to be rested before the performance. Trust me, you don’t want a camera to catch you yawning,” he added, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against my skin.

“Thanks for giving me one more thing to stress about,” I deadpanned, heaving a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was a mistake. I should have never agreed to Seulgi’s proposition in the first place. What the hell was I thinking? “I think it’s a bad idea. We should quit.”

Taeyong wasn’t in the mood for my nagging so early in the morning; he was having none of it. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ve practiced so much. We’re gonna win it with ease,” he declared, pressing a featherlike kiss against my jaw. “But for real,” he added, climbing on top of me, trapping me between his thighs, “we’re going to win. And even if we don’t, it’s fine. Really, if somehow we lose to Doyoung and his partner, I’ll just punch him backstage.”

“How can you say that?” I said with a sigh, running my hands across his thighs, finding it rather calming. “I know you said we should rest, but how about…” I trailed, and Taeyong smiled before eagerly capturing my lips, reading me like an open book.

“Say no more,” Taeyong whispered before his hands traveled under my shirt.

Unfortunately, Taeyong’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand before he managed to pull my panties down. With a groan, he extended his arm, staring at the screen.

“It’s Seulgi.”

“What are you waiting for? It’s her wedding day. Pick it up,” I yelled at him as I fell on the pillow, admiring his handsome face when he was talking to Seulgi.

“Please, not you, too,” he barked, rubbing his face in annoyance. Though I barely could make out what she was saying, I figured this much Seulgi and I were suffering from the same stress-fuelled illness. It was her wedding day, after all. Even if it was obvious she loved Irene with a burning passion, she wasn’t immune to pre-wedding anxiety.

Seulgi was talking her stress away, and Taeyong just hummed and nodded his head, registering her words. For some reason, the pressure didn’t seem to bother Taeyong at all. It was weird, but at least he was the voice of reason, which could help me and Seulgi cope.

“Breath in, breath out,” Taeyong spoke when Seulgi made a pause long enough for him to interject. “I know it’s a big deal, but there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting married to Irene. You love her so much,” Taeyong reminded her, winking at me, expecting Seulgi to end the call soon. “Everybody’s a little nervous; it’s completely normal.”

It was beautiful how close Taeyong and Seulgi were. They had each other’s backs in all types of situations.

About ten minutes later, Seulgi finally calmed down. Taeyong’s reassuring words swept the anxiety away, and she was more than ready to get married to the love of her life.

Once Seulgi hung up, Taeyong threw his phone on the bed and secured my legs around his hips before he leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss. “Seulgi says hi, by the way,” he added, sneaking his hand under the hem of my panties.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Taeyong looked down at me, creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“She knows?” I yelled, unable to comprehend how, on Earth, Seulgi figured out I was in Taeyong’s bed. She couldn’t know. She wasn’t even there when our romance bloomed. “How?”

“Yeah, is it a bad thing, though? You didn’t want to fuck me in secret, did you?” Taeyong challenged, not really answering my inquiry. Did Seulgi figure it out on her own? Or did Taeyong told her about us? And, the biggest question mark was: what were we to begin with? “Seulgi must have some sort of sixth sense. She was bothering me about the sexual tension between us since day one of your training.”

“I wouldn’t call it sexual tension per se, but there was something going on,” I replied, reminiscing how rocky our beginning was. “But I think we were interrupted…” I reminded him, and Taeyong with a playful smirk on his face dived right between my thighs.

 ***

 The streaming should begin at 8 p.m., but we had to arrive before 5 p.m., so the make-up artists and stylists could prepare us for the performance. Sitting in that chair and waiting for all pampering to be over with was stressful as fuck. I tried to preoccupy myself with an idea of Taeyong, but whenever someone threw a question in my direction, I was being pulled out of my train of happy thoughts.

I wanted to get on the stage and be done with it. Unfortunately, whoever funded that contest didn’t think of the mental health of its participants when making today’s schedule.

Punctually, the show began its transmission at 8 o’clock. However, at the very beginning, the MC had to introduce all sponsors. Going through them took him about twenty minutes. Then, they interviewed some of the eliminated dancers, asking them questions either about their experience in the competition or simply who they thought would win.

Later, they decided to rewind the contestants’ moments in the show. At first, they showed Doyoung and his partner, and a few experts analyzed their performance, wondering what the odds of them winning were.

When the host announced the rewind of Taeyong’s and Seulgi’s stages, the jury only talked about the sudden switch up, confirming it was the first time it ever happened in the grand finale. It startled a lot of people why would Seulgi drop out, but Taeyong explained it in a brief interview.

“It was a crazy coincidence, but Seulgi couldn’t participate today because she is getting married today,” Taeyong revealed, and the audience cooed loudly, obviously supporting her choice. “I was stressed at first, but Seulgi found an amazing dancer to take her spot. She really chose well,” he added, and I looked at him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

It was almost impossible to fish out a compliment from Taeyong during practice, but right now, he did it on his own accord, melting my heart with his words.

“Everybody is dying to know more about your partner,” the MC started, shifting his attention to me. I didn’t particularly like to be put in the spotlight, but before I managed to spit some nonsense, Taeyong butt in, rescuing the day.

“Although she doesn’t have much experience in dance competitions, I think she’s a great dancer. To think of it, she is my secret weapon,” Taeyong added, and I almost ran into his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by his speech.

“Alright then, let’s see what you got after a short commercial break,” the MC cheerfully announced before I bolted out of the stage as I felt the stress crept into my head.

“Calm down,” Taeyong softly spoke as he approached me, holding my hand, drawing circles with his thumb. “You’ve got this. Just focus on me,” he added, flashing me a reassuring smile before kissing my knuckles.

“Awww… isn’t it adorable?” Someone snickered, and I didn’t need to turn my head around to know it was Doyoung. He was like a venomous snake, trying to sneak into our subconscious and make us even more anxious. It couldn’t be fair play.

“Buzz off,” I barked as I didn’t want to let him tick Taeyong off. Taeyong was my safety pin, and I didn’t want him to go full rage on Doyoung. Their backstage battle would make it to the news, but I’d rather prevent it from happening.

“With Seulgi on your arm, I was giving you a five percent chance of winning,” Doyoung started, ignoring my warning. “Now, when she’s gone, I won’t even have fun beating you on the stage,” he added, and I almost surged forward to punch him. If it wasn’t for Taeyong, who held me in my place, I’d definitely rearranged Doyoung’s face.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Taeyong whispered into my ear, and I nodded my head, sighing. Then, it struck me. Doyoung’s motive wasn’t to mess with Taeyong but with me. He knew I was the weakest link, and he wanted to guarantee his victory by making me doubt myself. His words rung in my head, but one look at Taeyong helped me relax. We had practiced it a thousand times; there was not a chance I would make a mistake.

“Come on. Let’s go. They’re calling us out,” Taeyong mused, pulling me towards the stage.

The silence filled the auditorium when we got on the stage, taking our respective places. I stole a glance at Taeyong – he was mouthing words of encouragement seconds before the MC announced our performance.

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin', something in the way you wanna talk

On two sides of the stage, we moved to the rhythm, telling the story of two strangers lusting over each other from afar. With hunger in our eyes, we tried to seduce each other with sharp movements, showcasing our attributes.

You got me sayin', you got me sayin'

How you doing? Tell me what's your name (Ey, tell me what's your name?)

What's your sign? Feeling like you are into me

Taeyong ran up to me like a man enchanted by the siren’s voice, rolling his body against mine. It was his moment to shine; everybody’s eyes were on him as he owned the stage with his overflowing charisma.

Baby, we're two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me (Talking to me)

I can hear it callin' from where you are

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was a classic game of cat and mouse. Though our bodies were so close to each other, we moved in perfect synchronization, careful not to brush against each other. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the feeling of yearning was visible from the very last row.

Max, max, max, we can have it all (To the max)

If you back, back, back, back, back it up (Back it, back it)I'll take you where you wanna, got the gas in the tank (Wow)

If you really wanna make it last (Git, git, git)

Finally, as the song slowly progressed to the end, we were showing intense frustration. We were portraying two individuals, yearning for intimate contact, who were hastily losing their minds over uncontrollable passion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

The song was to end soon. The last chorus rolled in – it was our cue. After all teasing, we finally made the connection, ready to combust out of raw craze. After three minutes of painful longing, we were to reach completion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was all or nothing. We were finally together, touching each other with fervor.  The audience was eating our performance up – particularly when Taeyong showcased his flexibility and body control.

Tell me how you like it babe (How you)

I don't even know your name (How you, ey)

I love the way you're talking to me

It was finally time to finish our performance with a bang; we needed to show something spectacular, something Doyoung wouldn’t ever think about. As the singer began the last verse, it was my cue to run into Taeyong’s embrace. The second the last syllable rolled of the singer’s tongue, Taeyong caught me in his arms, and the lights went out to add a dramatic twist to our performance.

For a while, the audience was silent. However, a few seconds later, they roared in excitement, clapping loudly, showing how much they enjoyed our stage.

The MC was congratulating us, but I was too thrilled to register his words. I still couldn’t believe I performed on national television and didn’t trip and smash my face.

I had no idea how I found myself backstage, but there was a high chance Taeyong led me off the stage. I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own.

I even forgot that Johnny, together with Yeri – the love of his week, had backstage passes. I only remembered that when he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, congratulating me.

“You gotta quit that office job and start dancing professionally,” Johnny ordered, and I smiled, glad that he enjoyed my performance. “We both gotta quit. You’ll be dancing, and I’ll be a badass FBI agent.”

“You two were great,” Yeri politely said when Johnny let me go. “Thank you so much for letting me backstage.”

“No problem,” Taeyong replied as he grabbed my shaking hands. “Are you okay?” He asked, cupping my face, making me look at him. “You rocked the stage,” he added before he leaned forward to peck my lips.

Ignoring Johnny’s perplexed expression, I wrapped my arms around Taeyong in a comfortable hug. I hadn’t suitably introduced Johnny to the concept of me dating Taeyong, but hopefully, our interaction got the message across.

Emotions were slowly fading away, but I still needed Taeyong’s support. I was a rookie, and I had no experience with this type of stress. Something was calming about Taeyong’s aura; I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but I wasn’t going to question it.

“Anticipation is killing me,” I muttered against his skin. “Can he already go on that fucking stage?” I yelled, wondering why Doyoung’s performance didn’t start yet. I knew the MC was building up tension, but it was too much for me to handle.

“We could always skip,” Taeyong casually spoke, and I pulled away to look at him. What the hell was he talking about? I hadn’t agreed to help him out, so we didn’t wait until the end. “If we lose, we lose. If we win, your friend can accept the prize, can’t he?”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he answered with a bright smile, brushing stray hair off my forehead. “I just want to know the result already so we can go to Seulgi’s wedding and congratulate them,” he added, and I nodded my head. Though we couldn’t participate during the ceremony, the least we could do was to show up ridiculously late to the reception.

“Can they hurry the fuck up now?” I craned my neck, trying to find Doyoung and his partner. They were arguing about something right behind the curtain. Everything seemed they weren’t in the right headspace.

“I don’t think I want to see their performance,” Taeyong whispered, tightening his grasp on my waist. “How about a quickie in the dressing room? What do you say?” He proposed, and I smacked him, telling him to behave. It was tempting, but we really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t walk up that stage with messed-up post-sex hair.

“Get a grip,” I added, gently elbowing him. “Let’s just hit the snack table. I am hungry,” I spoke, pulling him away when the MC invited Doyoung and his dance partner onto the stage.

While munching on snacks, we stared at each other fondly. In some weird way, we were helping each other cope with anticipation and stress. Though it was tempting to check out their performance, we decided it was for the better if we didn’t.

They performed to “Hips Don’t Lie,” and it was almost impossible to turn my head around to check out Doyoung’s sick moves. Having considered all the videos I had seen of him, I was sure he looked gorgeous.

“What about a little peek?” Taeyong questioned, unable to control his urge to see his rival’s performance. “I thought I could endure it, but I can’t,” he added, and I nodded, giving in. Instantly, we ran to the nearest screen to watch their stage.

It was everything I imagined. Their moves were executed with precision and grace, but entertainment-wise, I was bored. They had the skills, but something about the general concept didn’t fulfill my expectations.

No matter how great of a dancer Doyoung was, he just could not pull this song off as the original artist did. Regardless of how hard he swayed his hips, it just didn’t live up to its potential. Though I wasn’t educated enough to give an honest review, it felt meh.

The audience in the studio whistled and shouted once they finished their performance, giving them a round of applause. With genuine smiles, Doyoung and his partner bowed before they ran off the stage.

Now, only thirty minutes of aggressive advertising, and we would know the winner.

“Is it too late to agree to that quickie?”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Taeyong answered with an innocent smile as he reached to hold my hand. “The best I can do is cuddles,” he added, leading me to the couch, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “It feels nice.”

“It does, but it doesn’t take my mind off things like a quickie would.”

“Don’t even try. I am not going on that stage with a boner in my pants,” Taeyong warned, peeling my hand off his thigh, pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.

Though it wasn’t as preoccupying as sex, it was still nice. And most importantly, it took our minds off the unbearable anticipation. A staff member actually needed to gently shake Taeyong’s shoulder to remind us that the MC was calling us to the stage.

Taeyong’s hand didn’t leave mine once we were waiting for the big reveal. It was fine if we lost. Next year, Seulgi and Taeyong would definitely make it to the top.

When the MC announced the winner, a few confetti bombs exploded. The audience roared in excitement, but I had no clue what was going on. Uncertainty was over – one of us won.

Stress, anticipation, and anxiety slowed down my reactions. However, I figured it would be weird if Taeyong picked me up and spun me around in his arms if we lost. It could only mean one thing – we did it.

We won.

Taeyong’s acceptance speech was short and simple. He thanked everyone who succored him discover his passion for dancing, who supported him throughout his dream, who directly helped him get this far, and me.

When I was handed the microphone for the first time that evening, I basically rephrased Taeyong words. Maybe it wasn’t my dream, but it felt damn good to assist Taeyong in achieving his. It was a bumpy road, but overall, it was all worth it.

The MC handed me a statue after shaking my hand, congratulating me once more. Taeyong, on the other hand, was gifted a huge check for 20 thousand dollars.

“Let’s go,” Taeyong whispered to me, running off the stage with me.

 ***

It was shortly before midnight when the Uber parked in front of the hotel where Seulgi’s and Irene’s reception took place. It was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers, making it look like a magical castle.

Though the security didn’t want to grant entrance, one of Seulgi’s aunts recognized Taeyong and told the man to let us in. She was nice enough to help us out, but she still found some time to glance disapprovingly at my stage costume. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gossiped to her entire family I was a prostitute.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, Seulgi noticed us. She was sitting by the table, eating the wedding cake with Irene. In an instant, she rose from her chair and ran up to us, throwing herself on Taeyong’s neck.

“You won! I knew it!” She shouted as she gave Taeyong a bone-crushing hug. “Irene and I sneaked out for a while to watch your performance. You smashed them,” Seulgi added before she turned to me, congratulating me too.

“You were amazing,” Irene approached us, sending a polite smile. Unlike Seulgi, Irene was much calmer and collected.

“You are finally married,” Taeyong spoke, beaming. “You better have everything recorded. I gotta know every embarrassing thing that I missed,” he added in a teasing manner, earning a playful jab from Seulgi. “I bet you cried during your vows.”

“Congratulations,” I chimed in, breaking their friendly banter before it properly started. It was Seulgi’s wedding day, after all.

After we caught up, Seulgi and Irene walked off to the dance floor, leaving us by the table alone. For a while, we admired them. They looked absolutely stunning in their white suits, dancing, basking in happiness.

“Do you know where the gifts are held?” I inquired suddenly, looking around.

“Why? Did you have time to get them anything?” Taeyong asked before he stuffed his mouth with a chocolate glazed strawberry. “Or are you thinking of stealing some?”

“I just want to give them my part of the prize,” I started, making Taeyong choke on the fruit. “Seulgi’s the rightful winner, and I think it’s only right.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I know, but I really want to do that,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers. “I don’t need this money, so I want to give it to her.”

“You’re so hot right now,” Taeyong said, making me turn my head in embarrassment. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. But remember, you earned it.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let me spoil you with my prize,” Taeyong offered, staring into my eyes. At first, I thought he was joking, but when his gaze didn’t even falter, I understood how serious he was. “Well… look at that. What are the odds?” Taeyong spoke as a familiar melody echoed within the walls of the grand ballroom. “It’s our song. Shall we dance?”

Having glanced at Seulgi, who whispered something to the DJ, I smiled at Taeyong. Though I was sick and tired of Love Talk already, it was kind of our song. We had been listening to this song too much, and regardless of how good it was, the prospect of it being our anthem terrified me.

“One last time,” I gave in, accepting Taeyong’s invitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Despite having mastered the choreography to it, I just wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly waltzing to it.

“That’s nothing like we practiced,” Taeyong pinpointed, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t mind, though. It’s comfy,” he added as his hands found purchase on my hips.

“Seulgi doesn’t look pleased. She didn’t expect us to perform, did she?” I whispered into Taeyong’s ear, hugging him closer. “Also, it can’t be our song. We have to change it; the sooner, the better,” I complained, but Taeyong just chuckled into my ear, humming softly.

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Taeyong decided to sing it.

“I love the way you're talking to me.”

#taeyong smut #neosmutsongs #neosmutcollective #nct smut #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct u smut #nct 127 smut #nct fluff #taeyong fluff #dance au

[qianinterprises]

WayV Reactions: you get mad at them over something trivial

Pairing(s): WayV x mostly gn!reader (I think Kun's is the only one with a written female reader. The others should be gender neutral).

Genre: angst, fluff (happy ending)

Warnings: couples arguments, yelling, angry reader

Word Count: 3k

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the request!!! I had so much fun writing this, although I will admit I had to look up "trivial things to fight about" so nothing would be repeated lol! I have no idea why most of these take place in the kitchen lol, it just seems like a place of arguments. I hope this is what you wanted!! I hope you enjoy!! 💕💕

Tagging: @treasuretaeil

Kun:

Originally posted here

"How about Dandelion?" Kun asked from his spot on the couch, absentmindedly flicking through the large book of names clasped in his fingers.

An audible gasp left your lips. You turned, wide eyes to stare at him, completely flabbergasted.

"You want to name our daughter WHAT?" you snapped.

Dandelion? Of all the names in the big book, he had to choose the name of a damned weed!

Kun shut the book and turned to stare at you with an eyebrow raised, not expecting your tone to be as harsh as it was.

With you expecting a baby girl in a few months, you and your husband had set to attempting to pick out a name, which proved to be a little more difficult than you had anticipated. You just couldn't seem to agree on a name, which, until now, had been fine. You were both generally easy going people who hardly ever fought, so as your face flushed with anger, Kun was at a loss.

"I just thought it'd be cute," Kun defended, voice gentle.

You could tell he was trying not to anger you further, but you balled your hands into angry fists.

"Well why don't we just call her a useless weed and be done with it! See how that affects her mental health!" you yelled.

You didn't know why you were so angry, or why you were taking that anger out on your sweet husband who had done nothing but take care of you throughout your pregnancy.

You blamed your hormones.

"Babe, please calm down."

Kun's voice was gentle and soft as he reached out for you, and although you were still seething with anger, the second his arms wrapped around your middle, you could feel it dissipating, leaving you to apologize.

"Kun, I'm sorry for-"

"Shh, there's no need my love," he whispered.

How did you ever get so lucky.

Ten:

Originally posted here

Ten hardly ever got a day off. With WayV and the occasional comeback with NCTU, plus all the variety shows and vlives the boys did, you hardly got to spend time with him, but you knew what you'd gotten yourself into when you'd started dating. You knew nights together were going to be few and far between, so when he'd asked you over to the dorm one afternoon, you'd jumped at the chance, eager to see your boyfriend after so long. However, if you'd known what it would be like, you would have stayed home.

Ten's phone chimed again, not long after he'd placed it down in favor of wrapping his arm around you while the movie played on the tv. His phone had been going off every few minutes, and despite your sliding closer or attempting to distract him, he couldn't seem to stop from responding, spurring on the messages further.

You didn't question whether he was texting some tramp. You knew he'd never do that to you, plus, he was constantly showing you some funny photo or meme that Johnny had sent, making you chuckle, although you couldn't help but to resent Ten's tall friend for distracting your boyfriend.

Finally, as he removed his arm to grab his phone and text Johnny back, you snapped.

"Can you put the damn phone away! If I would have known you'd do nothing but text, I wouldn't have come!"

Ten paused mid text before dropping his phone on the couch.

"He's my best friend, (y/n)! I'm not just going to ghost him!"

You huffed.

"I'm not asking you to ghost him! I'm asking you to spend time with me without the phone!" you hissed.

Ten sighed and picked his phone back up. With a grumble, you got off the couch, preparing to go home, not wanting to watch a movie with your boyfriend if your boyfriend didn't want to be there with you. However, as you moved to grab your coat, he tackled you onto the couch, caging you in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I promise, for the rest of the day, it's just you and me. No more texting."

You looked at him skeptically, but as he held off his phone, switched off, you sighed and wrapped your arms around him.

"I missed you," you mumbled.

"I missed you too," he replied, kissing the top of your head.

WinWin:

Originally posted here

You had never been the kind of person to rely on anyone. You liked doing things on your own, relying on no one, and thus, many of your friends labeled you "stuck in your ways" because, despite having a boyfriend who'd bend over backwards for you, you couldn't bare to let him do anything for you.

This had spurred on quite a few minor arguments, especially when said boyfriend was the worlds sweetest guy who just wanted you to rely on him for more than a warm chest to snuggle against.

"Why won't you let me help you?" he'd asked several times.

Your answer was always the same.

"Because I can do it on my own."

You never meant to make him feel dejected, but as you opened the kitchen cabinet to grab out your favorite coffee mug, you found that maybe, your boyfriend had a little more of a mean streak than you gave him credit for, and this morning, without your daily caffeine, it really pissed you off.

"Dong Sicheng!" you yelled, anger filling your veins.

Apparently, at some time during the night, your boyfriend had snuck out of bed and rearranged your cabinets, moving everything up one shelf higher, so now, instead of the highest self being the only vacant place, now the bottom shelf was vacant. You were decently tall, but you couldn't reach the highest shelf. You doubted anyone who wasn't 6 foot tall could reach, and of course, on the highest shelf, was all of your coffee mugs.

"Yes?" Sicheng asked from behind you.

You spun around in a whirl, his shirt, that fit you more like a dress, flowing out at the sudden movement.

"What the fuck did you do! Everything was perfect! I could reach everything! Why the hell did you move it!" you snapped.

You glared at him as he tried to hide a small smirk, leaning closer to the counter as he reached up, grabbing your favorite coffee mug, and placing it on the counter for you.

This only pissed you off more.

"What the fuck Sicheng!"

"You never let me do anything for you! The power goes out, you fix the fuse box. Your car breaks down, you take it to the shop. You want coffee, you grab the mug out of the cabinet. You don't let me do anything for you!"

You could see his point, you honestly could, and maybe that's why your fury died down a little.

"Sicheng, I'm independent. I don't need you to do anything for me. I can do it on my own."

"That's what you always say! But I'm your boyfriend! I want to do stuff for you!"

With a sigh, you shook your head. Maybe he was right. Relationships were about give and take, push and pull. He let you help him with things and you hadn't returned the favor. Maybe it was time to bend.

"Fine. Keep the mugs up there, but damnit Sicheng, when I call for you to get me a mug, you better come running."

With a smile, he leaned close to press a kiss to your lips.

"Promise. "

Lucas:

Originally posted here

Having a live in boyfriend was fun, nothing you'd ever experienced before. Suddenly, you had someone to share your bed with, someone to cook for, someone to open pickle jars when you couldn't.

However, it also meant extra time cleaning. Especially when your boyfriend apparently didn't know the use of a welcome mat. Plus, he wasn't the cleanest person in the world, and that fact became evident as you walked into the kitchen to grab a drink and found two bottle caps and a candy wrapper sitting on the counter, forgotten.

"Seriously Yukhei," you muttered under your breath.

You threw the trash in the bin and opened the refrigerator, hoping for a nice glass of milk before bed. Your eyes landed on the milk carton. Happily, you lifted the carton out of the fridge only to realize that it was empty. You certainly hadn't been the one to place an empty milk carton back in the fride.

"Yuhkei!" You yelled to your boyfriend who was already cuddled up in bed.

You waited for him to make his way into the kitchen, but the longer you waited, the angrier you got.

When he did finally walk inside, he was met with your fixed glare.

"What'd I do?"

"First, you leave your trash on the counter, then you put an empty carton back in the fridge! Do you NOT know where the damn trash can is?!"

Yukhei raised his hands in defense.

"I forgot!" he whined.

You groaned. You'd definitely heard that one before.

"You always forget Yukhei! How hard is it to put your trash where it belongs!" you whine, glare still fixed on him.

"And... just so we're clear... an empty milk carton doesn't go back in the fridge?" he asked.

You threw the milk carton at his head, although you weren't planning on hitting him. As he ducked, the carton hit the floor. He was trying to be funny, and you hated to admit that it was working as a smile cracked across your lips.

"There it is! There's that beautiful smile I love!" he cooed, moving closer and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Shut up Yukhei!" you grumbled, pushing against his chest lightly.

He wasn't having it. He pulled you closer and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"I promise I'll start putting my trash in the bin," he whispered.

You knew it was an empty promise. Tomorrow morning, you'd wake up to more bottle caps and candy wrappers on the counters. Yukhei could be infuriating. But you loved him despite his lack of cleanliness.

Xiaojun:

Originally posted here

(This image has nothing to do with the reaction, I just had to include it lol)

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BE-*

That was the sound you'd been hearing every ten minutes for the past hour as your husbands hand slammed into the alarm clock for the sixth time. You grumbled and rolled over, once again awoken by his horrible habits.

This wasn't unusual. Dejun tended to set 15 alarms before he'd finally get out of bed and start his day, which, by that point, was usually when your own alarm clock would start going off and you'd wake up groggy and cranky, having just lost an hour and a half of peaceful sleep because your husband coudn't seem to get his ass out of bed in the morning.

"Why do you need so many fucking alarms! It's fucking stupid! Just set it for the time you actually need to be up!" you growled, not opening your eyes as you buried your face in the pillow, hoping to get back to sleep.

"I can't wake up that fast," came his mumbled response.

You huffed. It was always the same answer, but it never made much sense to you. Why couldn't he just get out of bed like a normal fucking person.

Alas, you didn't respond as sleep once again tugged at your consciousness, lulling you back to sleep beneath the warm blankets before-

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

"GET THE FUCK UP!!"

"Five more minutes," he grumbled.

Five more minutes and you'd have to hear the infuriating sound of that damned alarm clock?! Fuck that.

You had had enough. Your sleep was important to you and being woken up two thousand times with a damn alarm clock before your husband finally dragged his tired ass out of bed was not helping your sleep in any way.

In a fit of anger and irritation, you pressed a sock covered foot against the middle of Dejun's back and pushed, affectively kicking his body out of bed, his body hitting the cold ground with a thump before he knew what happened.

"Hey! What was that for!" he snapped.

"Your up now," you grumbled, rolling back over and pulling the blankets over your head.

You could hear him grumbling something along the lines of "why do I love your psychotic ass" before the shower turned on.

Hendery:

Originally posted here

You let out a groan as the title of another horror movie appeared on the television screen as you cuddled next to your boyfriend. You hated horror movies, a fact he knew well. The ones that didn't make you have nightmares were generally so silly and irritating you'd spend the entire moving staring at the time. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, absolutely loved horror films, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when you sat down for your weekly movie night at his place and found a horror movie coming on, which wouldn't have been an issue if you hadn't watched horror movies the last five weeks in a row.

"Can't we watch something else," you complained.

"It's just one move (y/n), you'll be ok."

You groaned. He never listened, too enthralled in his own excitement for the movie.

You didn't have a problem with the fact that he liked this genre, but he could just as easily watch it with Ten or YangYang, or, if he really wanted to torture his leader, Kun. You, on the other hand, somehow always seemed to get stuck watching them.

"We've watched these five weeks in a row," you whined.

"Shh."

That was the last straw. He wasn't even willing to listen to you!

With a huff, you got off the couch and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching off the movie and turning to glare at him.

"You know I don't like horror! Yet for the past several weeks we've done nothing but watch it! When are we going to watch something I want to watch?!" you snapped, hands balling into fists.

You could tell Kunhang was taken aback back your outburst as he floundered to find a response. You expected him to bite back, adding fuel to your fire by saying something along the lines of 'I work so much! Why can't we watch what I want!' But to your great surprise, his face just dropped.

"I like the way you hold onto me," he said softly.

You squinted.

"Huh?"

He sighed and sat up straighter, putting the bowl of popcorn on the table.

"You always cling to me when a part scares you. Sometimes you even jump into my lap and I like that. I like protecting you..."

As his voice trailed off, you sighed, anger evaporating. You sat down on the couch next to him and took his hand.

"I don't mind that sometimes, but not all the time," you said. "Besides, wouldn't you rather make out while watching a romance movie?" you smirked.

He paused at the suggestion, seeming to weigh his options in his mind before flicking the television back on and searching up the sappiest romance movie he could find.

With a grin, you sat back on the couch and discreetly coated your lips in cherry chapstick while he found a movie.

YangYang:

Originally posted here

Your feet and back ached as you walked through the door to your apartment after an exceptionally long shift at the diner you worked at part time. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed with your loving boyfriend and go to sleep in his arms. However, as you laid eyes on Jeno and Jaemin sitting beside YangYang with some game loudly playing from the tv, you couldn't help but groan.

"I'm home," you called tiredly, biting back the urge to grumble about games as you made your way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and maybe a sugary snack.

As soon as you flicked on the light, you couldn't fight the irritation as your eyes met three empty pizza boxes stacked carelessly on the stove and a mountain of plates, cups, and bowls you'd begged YangYang to take care of that morning.

"YangYang!" you snapped, teeth gritting as you found the trashcan, also filled to the brim, waiting to be taken out.

You heard mumbling from the living room followed by an absence of firing guns, meaning they'd paused the game. YangYang walked into the kitchen, eyebrows raised as if he had no idea why you'd called for him.

"What the fuck Yang! I ask you to do the dishes, they're not done! Taking the trash out is your job anyway and it's piled sky high! And those fucking pizza boxes don't belong on the damn stove! What did you do today?! Sit on your ass while I was slaving away!" you yelled.

In hindsight, you probably shouldn't have picked a fight with YangYang's buddies in the next room, but your tired brain could take no more.

"I had to practice and they just got here an hour ago! Don't go snapping at me when you just as easily could do the dishes now!" he snapped back.

"Why should I have to! I've been working all day! You could have done the dishes before they got here! Hell, I wish you would have!"

"Excuse me for not being a clean freak!"

You blew out a huff of air and squeezed your eyes shut.

"Whatever, just go play your damn game."

You turned away from him and moved to the sink, starting the water and pouring in a good squirt of dish soap before grabbing a sponge and getting ready to wash the dishes before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, a face nuzzling into your neck.

"I'm sorry I didn't do the dishes baby," YangYang whispered softly.

You didn't respond as he pulled the sponge out of your hand.

"Go to bed. I'll do the dishes and then come join you," he whispered.

It was a fast change of heart, but one you were thankful for. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before making your way toward your shared room, not missing the way Jeno and Jaemin bolted from the apartment before YangYang roped them into helping.

#ficscafe #k library #kdiner #lsn.works #wayv reactions #wayv requests #wayv fluff #wayv angst #kun x reader #ten x reader #winwin x reader #lucas x reader #xiaojun x reader #hendery x reader #yangyang x reader #kun fluff #kun angst #ten fluff #ten angst #winwin fluff #winwin angst #lucas fluff #lucas angst #xiaojun fluff #xiaojun angst #hendery fluff #hendery angst #yangyang fluff #yangyang angst #wayv x reader

[pumpkinsy0]

Your hcs of the Shepards and Curtis gang at a party, please?

Thanks and love u in advance Marsh <3

•darry probably the designated driver, like he might have a few drinks here n there, but like for the most part hes kinda watching over everyone

•meanwhile tim is trying to get him to just calm down and drink a bit more, but darry will not b dealing w anymore car crashes in his life timothy shepard, thank u very much💪🏽💪🏽

•angela and two but r off playing drinking games w like half the bar, and y know what, they r doing well, good for them

•at some point they got into a drinking game between each other and this guy from the shepard gang was keeping score and goating them up

•dallas is off trying to prove to 2 members of the shepard gang that hes way stronger and better than them

•”i could literally rock ur shit and all ur gonna do is cry about it” “yea yea yea id like to see you try😐”

•pony was in the corner at the party just kinda stuck in his own head bc he knew nobody there and even w the ppl he did know they were busy focusing on something else and he didnt bother to bother them

•curly was trynna spit game at pony, u already know it

•like he was dragging pony around and showing him his cool party trucks, which in all honesty, r VERY cool

•i mean obviously it was working bc after a few minutes they fucking left together, but lets leave them alone🛐

•pony told johnny where they were going and johnny promised to cover for him as long as they got back in a few minutes, cause he absolutely refuses to get questioned by darry

•steve and soda are outside drag racing w random members from the shepard gang they have literally never met before

AND LOVE U TOO ANON U WELCOME⛹🏽‍♀️

#ponyboy curtis #curly shepard #purly #angela shepard #two bit mathews #tim shepard #darry curtis #darrel curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #johnny cade #dallas winston

[troubatrain]

new year’s day - m.tkachuk

a/n: i wasn’t going to write a part two to tis the damn season, but i couldn’t help but feel like new year’s day was an excellent excuse to write one so here we are. i started this blog about a year ago sometime after new year’s and it’s been a little crazy but you guys are honestly awesome. i just wanted to thank you for constantly supporting my fics and chaotic ways i write and all of the people who i get to idea dump with. thank you & have a happy and safe new year’s!

Life was sweet.

Matthew had been blissed out since the moment you both arrived back in Calgary, like the last piece of his life had fallen back into place. You were the kind of peace he needed, someone who anchored him down before his ego got the best of him, and someone who could see past all of the bullshit to begin with. Matthew knew a storm was on the horizon, the talk about what any of this means after you left to go back to St. Louis. Matthew fucked up the first time, because he a dumb kid who wasn’t ready for anything life was about to throw at him. He got scared, all of the new pressure in his life got real and he ran away from the only thing that comforted him.

For the moment, none of that mattered. What was important to him right now was watching you laugh with a few of his teammates in a dress Matthew intended on taking off later.  A laugh he could have recognized anywhere. It was New Year’s Eve, and Matthew was hosting, something he never thought would happen. His teammates thought he was kidding when he asked if they wanted to go to his place for a New Year’s Party, but he was being serious. You outdid yourself, telling Matthew he couldn’t possibly have a party with any sort of decorations.

“You look good with a girlfriend Chucky,” Matthew’s stare was broken but Mark’s voice behind him. A hand lands on his back of his neck to cover the blush. You made him better, that’d been clear from the moment you walked in your freshman English and sat next to Matthew. He had a perfect grade in that class, because he spent a year trying to impress you before he finally just asked you.

“Trying not to fuck it up this time,” Matthew admits sheepishly, because he was so nervous about losing you again, “She’s always been it for me, but I can’t just ask her to stay here-”

“You don’t have to, just let her know she’s part of your plan,” Mark suggests, and it makes sense to Matthew. When you dated the first time, he had all these plans. His plan for where he’d go before he got drafted, his plan to play his first year, and none of them ever included you. Well they did, but Matthew wasn’t about to tell you he wanted to marry you at seventeen. You deserved to know that when he thought about his future, it was with you. 

It was here. It was watching you joke with Johnny and Sam like you’d known them for years. It was the first game you went to after you landed and Matthew got to skate out for warm ups and see you against the glass. It was the other morning when he caught you peeking out the windows of his condo while snow was falling, your eyes sparkling at the site. Matthew couldn’t think of anything else he wanted for the rest of his life besides you.

Matthew excuses himself from the conversation, catching a glimpse at the time. It was five minutes to midnight, a New Year was about to ring in and he got to spend it with you. He sneaks behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling into him, “Hi.”

“Matty,” You squirm, giggling while Matthew tickled at your sides. He didn’t care who heard you call him Matty because it was you. You look up at him, a smile on your face while you pressed a kiss to his cheek. Matthew scoffs, pointing to his lips, “At midnight bubs.”

“Yeah bubs,” Sam teases, Matthew lifting up his middle finger. You grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“Just admit you’re a big baby Matthew, it’ll save us some time,” You smirk, Sam breaking out in laughter. Matthew was a big baby, constantly whining when he couldn’t pull you close in bed or pouting his way through something he didn’t want to do, “Now countdown to midnight with us…”

Five

Four

Three

Two

One

A chorus of cheers and New Year’s wishes filled Matthew’s place, but all of that was static with your lips pressed against his. His hand was splayed across your back, the bare skin peeking out of your dress was on fire from his touch alone. His other hand was tilting your chin up, holding you close to him.

“Happy New Year baby,” Matthew mutters, another quick kiss to your lips before he pulls away. Your eyes fluttered open, snapping back into reality.

By the time it was two in the morning, Matthew had managed to push his party guests out and his next task was you. You were spinning around his bedroom, and Matthew was waiting for you to trip over your own heels every second. You finally flop down on his bed, kicking your feet out, “Please?”

Matthew sighs, pausing from unbuttoning his own dress shirt and sitting next to you on the bed. He unbuckles your heels, “Have fun tonight?”

“I like it here,” You whisper, as if you’d been afraid to admit it. You snuggle into the bed, your eyelids getting heavier by the minute, “Because you’re here.”

“I like it here more when you’re here too pretty girl,” Matthew grins, his eyes soft when he looks down at you, “You need to get out of this dress.”

“Get me out of it,” You smirk, picking your head and giving Matthew a wink. If you weren’t five tequila shots deep he probably would have, but he knew you were far too drunk for that. He chuckles, shaking his head and tossing you one of his shirts and walking into the bathroom. He finally got back into his room, your head on his pillow while you waited for him.

He finally jumps into bed, throwing an arm over your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “Goodnight.”

“Matty?” You call out, whispering before he falls asleep on you. He hums, waiting for you to speak, “Don’t give up on me this time.”

And Matthew could have sworn he felt his heart break.

***

You woke up with a massive headache, only getting worse by Matthew’s snoring in your ear. The past week had been nothing short of perfect, Matthew pulling out all the stops to prove he really did want you back. You roll over in his arms, tracing the side of his face, he wasn’t going to wake up. Matthew hadn’t changed, and that meant he still slept like a rock. Your fingers moved along the stubble across his chin, a new addition with change you were starting to love.

You finally got out of bed, tossing on whatever hoodie Matthew had closest to the bed and padding down the hallway to turn up the heat. Calgary was cold, a bitter kind you were in a hate/love relationship with. Most of the love came from why you were here, and the weather was something you just needed to deal with. You walk through the living room, plastic cups from the night before were covering the place. Confetti and polaroid's thrown across the coffee table with intentions for them to be a problem for another time. You pick one up, of you sitting on Matthew’s lap. You were looking at the camera, a wide smile on your face while Matthew was just looking at you.

“I want that one,” Matthew’s raspy morning voice caused you to jump, his long arm reaching over and holding the picture in his hand, “For here.”

You give Matthew a small smile, watching him run his finger over the picture. He’s quiet for a minute, biting his lip like he’d been debating what to say, “Matty?”

“I see you in my future,” Matthew breathes out, his last and final confession he had to make to both of you, “When I think about all of the things I want, you’re always there.”

“What if it happens again?” You whisper, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. The very real fear of this imploding on the two of you scared you like no other. You had to put those pieces back together alone, and you weren’t sure if you were prepared to do it again, “What if this is too much and-”

“It won’t be, I’m ready this time,” Matthew assures you, “I was ready then too, but I didn’t think you’d be. I had to give you up because you deserved better than following me around while I got myself settled. I am, I’m here and I’m ready for this.”

Matthew’s voice was raw, pleading with you that he was telling you the honest to god truth, “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I’d rather do hard with you than easy with someone else Y/N,” Matthew smiles, his dimples poking out.

“Matthew I swear if you break my heart again,” You threaten, poking your finger into his chest, “I will let your brother kick the shit out of you.”

Matthew chuckles pressing kisses all over your face, the sound of your laugh flooding his place. You spent the rest of New Year’s cleaning the condo, picking up the empty champagne bottles left from the night before and spending the day on the couch before your flight left.

***

What Matthew didn’t know then, was that it would work. Long distance was rough, but you’d both made enormous sacrifices for each other. It took planes, trains, cars and a whole of patience, but by the time the next year rolled around- things still seemed to work. You walked through the lobby of Matthew’s place in Calgary, your suitcase felt heavier than it had been on any of your previous trips. You had a late Christmas present for him, one that if you didn’t give him in person it wasn’t going to be the same.

“You’re here!” Matthew hops off the couch when you let yourself in, he grabs your waist picking you up and spinning you around. Matthew presses a kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you stopped him, “Babeeeee…”

“Quit your whining, I have something for you,” You stop him, opening up your suitcase and pulling out a folder. He furrowed his eyebrows, sliding it open. It was a job offer. One for your dream position. In Calgary.

Matthew was stunned, speechless while his eyes read over the offer four times. It was real and if it meant what his brain thought it did it meant that a year of long distance was about to be so fucking worth it. His finger ran across the paper, looking up at you. You had a grin on your face, happy with yourself for not telling him until this very moment.

“I’m going to take it, if that wasn’t obvious-” You start to explain, but Matthew had scooped you back into his arms before you could finish speaking. His arms were holding you tightly, muttering something into your shoulder, “What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Matthew’s eyes were bulging out his head, and you narrowed your eyes at him. He was lying to you, you just gave him the best news of his life and he’s lying to you.

“Stop lying”, You demand, stepping out his arms, “Do you not want me here?”

“Fuck, no baby I do, I just-” Matthew sighs, running into his arm and rummaging through his drawers. You stood by the door, confused as to what had gotten into your boyfriend.

“I was going to do this tonight, I even flew out our families, because I got you back on New Year’s and,” Matthew steps back into the room, a blue box in his hand in a color you’d be damned if you didn’t recognize, “In all of my life, I’ve only ever known that I was supposed to be with one person, and that was you. You’re my soulmate, and the world has constantly tried to pry us apart but I swear it just made us stronger. We’re the best god damn team in the world Y/N, and I think we’d be even better if you married me?”

Your hand was over your mouth, tears spilling out while Matthew’s soft blue eyes were staring into yours. He was right, you were the best team in the world. You were two people who could look at each other in a crowded room and know what the other was thinking. You were in love, and the few years where you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t always going to be Matthew at the end were just a part of the story. You nod your head, watching Matthew put that ring on your left hand and you couldn’t help but think about the way you’d get to tell your children and grandchildren your most epic love story.

Because after all, you wanted his midnights, and everyday after that.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

[wh6res]

johnny — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you feel. the farther you are, the colder.

synopsis. johnny had always preferred you in winter clothes, anyway. you can say it makes his job a lot easier.

warnings. tread cautiously. smut, swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of smoking, mentions of stalking, violence, implied kidnapping near the end, johnny's a lil delusional, implied slutshaming

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

inspired by red.

in a world where finding one’s soulmate is a big hot and cold game, having sex for the heck of it proves to be a challenge. who’d be willing to take off their clothes when you literally feel negative degrees because your soulmate lives on the other side of the world?

but it’s weird, really. some people don’t have their soulmates living in another country. some people lucked out and have their soulmate living just across the street, or next to their house, and probably didn’t need all those winter clothes that other people wear.

johnny had eventually developed an unspoken rule to only get with the ones who are bundled up in their ‘lil jackets and parkas, running the other way from people who show more skin. he isn’t a masochist, why’d he want to spend time with someone who’s close to meeting their soulmate?

it hadn’t been two years when johnny met you in the brick alleyway of a local bar near the university, in the shortest, skimpiest outfit he’s ever seen. he tried to stop himself, oh, he truly did, but your cat-like grace and alluring eyes threw him off his game completely. one bottle of cheap beer led to another, exchanging whispers led to kissing, and kissing led to… well, in your mattress.

sure, the springs digging against his back as you rode him like a fucking horse hurt but it has a charm to it. with the pain and pleasure mixing into something so blinding that it was the best sex he’s had for years.

it was only after he'd cummed for the 5th time with you that night and had called it a day, did he realize that you haven’t met your soulmate nor were you feeling any closer to meeting ‘the one’ despite not wearing a jacket in the least.

you don’t know the relief that surged through johnny’s veins when you said…

“what? soulmate? i haven’t met them yet. wait a minute—you thought because of what i’m wearing, my soulmate’s close?” johnny felt a little stupid as you laughed, tugging the bedsheets higher up against your chest. “people i fucked always ask me that but nah, nothing can stop me from wanting to wear something that makes me feel confident.”

there’s something about you that johnny suh cannot pinpoint. it was that annoying feeling of having the words at the tip of your tongue yet being unable to say them. maybe it was the way you talked? the way you acted? or just the charisma you seem to exude so effortlessly? johnny would rather die than admit to anyone that you got him wrapped around your pretty little nimble fingers with just the bat of an eyelash.

he felt like utter shit for literally walking out on you as abruptly as he did (screw drunk taeyong for getting into bar fights again) but at least you guys exchanged numbers and talked about all that needed to be talked about.

when johnny went out that night to try out local bars outside the uni, he never thought he'd be coming back home, sober and satiated, with a new booty call.

the arrangement went on a few more times. and by few, johnny meant a hefty few, considering you saw each other more than his ten fingers can count and had always alternated between his place and yours. although due to taeyong being a constant nuisance (“i’m not just going to fucking move my gaming nights just so you can get your dick bounced, suh!”) he was always at your place, instead.

not that either of you minded. johnny had to sneak in and out of the university because you lived off the campus grounds but it’s well worth it. anyone will do anything for a taste of heaven, right?

not that you were an angel by any means but johnny discovers your moans turn whinier when he addresses you as such. it makes his cock throb with want, hearing you lose yourself underneath or on top of him as he used you to get off.

“isn’t that right, angel? come on tell me how much you love me fucking you. this is what you live for isn’t it?” johnny hisses, leaning forward, his chest touching your back as he railed you from behind.

you were way too lost in the pleasure to even answer him properly. you just felt so full, the slight curve of his cock aiding him to hit all the right places whenever he ruts his hips forward. he doesn’t even need to use his hands on you and johnny revels at how amazingly responsive you are.

all he can hear is you and boy was it enough to get him off. from your moans, to the clapping, to the lewd squelching sounds, to the springs of the mattress poking your front. everything is leading up to that moment you’re both chasing, that searing pleasure of climaxing.

when he feels you getting closer, he flips you onto your back, wanting to see your face twisted in sheer ecstasy when he makes you cum.

“johnny!” you scream when he hauls your legs over his shoulder, hitting impossibly deeper, grazing the walls of your cervix. “shit, shit, shit—i’m going to—”

he halts all movements.

the answering whine he got from you made him quickly wrap a hand around your throat, the other gripping your hips so hard you just know it’ll leave a nasty bruise the next morning. “you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart. go on—you live for my cock, don’t you?”

“johnny, come on—ah!” he cuts you off with a pointed look, the hard thrust rendering you speechless as he wraps his hand just a wee bit tighter around your neck.

“what did i say about whiny angels, hmm?” he leans down to your ear, puffing his hot breath with every word he spoke and drawing more beads of sweat on the side of your face. “go on, love, don’t be shy. i know you love my cock but i don’t tolerate you ignoring my questions.”

well, you’re fucked—figuratively—as you fail to remember whatever question he asked you only seconds ago.

you squeeze your eyes shut when he starts moving in the slowest pace possible, teasing you and making you work for it. as if your dilemma is written clear on your face, johnny coos, tilting his head. “what… is my angel having trouble?”

the surprised moan you let out when he gives another hard thrust sends shivers down his spine. he revels at your scrunched up face, both from the pleasure and wracking your brain frantically for whatever johnny wants because you sure as hell know that he’ll keep this pace up just to torture you.

“johnny,” you plead, nuzzling your face by his forearm propped beside your head. but one look at his face and you know he won’t drop it no matter how much you plead and beg for you to finish. “i didn’t—didn’t hear what you asked—”

“that’s just too bad, now, is it?” you squirm underneath him with one particular hard thrust, your head nearly hitting the wall behind the mattress.

“please… re—repeat the question? i promise i’ll do anything! you know i will! i’m—i’m your angel, right? i’ll do anything! just—”

“fuck the question,” he gasps, feeling you clenching around him as he gives in to the pleasure he wants to feel. screw pretenses. “that’s good enough.”

he started yet again his brutal pace, stopping only after you finished so he could pull out, ropes of his essence painting your naked stomach.

johnny doesn’t immediately slump next to you, reaching forward to the box of tissues lying on the floor next to the mattress so he can clean you up. he knows your heart flutters when he takes care of you after, that’s why he does it always, without fail. he can feel your hammering heart as he wiped away all of his sticky cum off your torso.

both of you are shivering underneath the thin blanket. with the nature of the soulmate rules plus the busted heater in your apartment, being naked as the day you were born is quite a bad idea unless you want to suffer from hypothermia.

“want a cig?”

johnny chuckles, putting an arm up to support his head. “you always ask me that and i’ll always say the same thing. i—”

“don’t smoke.” you finish his sentence, your giggle rings akin to that of a little girl as you click the lighter, angling your head so the cigarette butt will reach the small flame.

“those things’ll kill you,” johnny mumbles, eyeing a discolored portion of the ceiling.

you snort, tempted to blow the smoke directly to his face but you know what happened before—angry sex with johnny suh borders more on pain than pleasure… but masochists are made to love the pain, aren’t they?

johnny bolts upright in a coughing fit, the springs of the mattress groaning in agony with the sudden movement. only after he’s composed himself again after that small blast of smoke you blew towards him did he start glaring at you. yet his annoyance dissipates the moment he sees the eagerness and mischief swirling in your eyes.

“you’re gonna fucking pay for that.”

johnny doesn’t like thinking that he’s growing attached. what the heck is taeyong even saying? feelings make everything messy and the last thing johnny wants to do is mess up whatever the fuck you guys have—not friends, not lovers, just smack dab in the middle.

so why is he so affected by the sudden infrequency of your texts? you used to reply within seconds after johnny asks if he can come over, now it takes you hours and more often than not johnny has already taken care of the problem himself by the time you replied.

and your texting style has gradually started to change, as well. gone are the days you’d humor him when he gives poorly disguised sexual innuendos for the fun of it. when johnny does end up coming over, you’re still as noisy and whiny as a bitch in heat but… there’s something off with everything. 

with you.

johnny’s just concerned. can he not feel that way? concern doesn’t automatically equal to any romantic feelings whatsoever, right?

“are you okay?” he asks, never the type to beat around the bush with someone. he tries to force out a chuckle, afraid whatever he said sounded a tad too serious. “i mean, i don’t know. is there something wrong—”

“i met him.”

“who?”

one look in your eyes and johnny knew you were pertaining to your soulmate.

he dashes over to you in a heartbeat, running his hands down your arms but before he can even reach your hands, you’ve hissed and pushed him away. “you’re hands are freezing, johnny!”

it was only a moment, seconds of touching you yet he can feel you weren’t as cold as you used to and it only meant one thing.

johnny’s smart enough to know he wasn’t your soulmate because if it was, you would’ve gotten warmer from the day you two met—but no, you were as cold as him, and had excused fucking each other as a means of sharing body heat. but even if that was the case, you both have made the agreement to still see or fuck around each other even after meeting your own respective soulmates.

jesus christ, you were the one who brought the issue up! and now… now what’s this bullshit he’s hearing from you?

“i can’t—can’t do this anymore, john,” you say firmly as you stand across the room, far away from him. hugging yourself as if you were the one breaking and not johnny. “we’d be hurting other people—”

“but you said—”

“i know what i said,” you snap, piercing eyes heatedly finding his. “i was stupid back then, i thought i can keep this up but—the guilt, johnny. you don’t know how guilty i fucking feel!”

“guilty?” he asks incredulously, taken aback of the implications of that one word.

you being guilty meant you’ve already met and have probably spent a reasonable amount of time with your soulmate (so that’s what you’ve been doing for the duration of you not talking to him). you being guilty meant you’re not exactly the proudest with whatever relationship you have with johnny and had probably kept your little midnight rendezvous with him a secret to your soulmate. you being guilty meant the sex you had only an hour ago was meant to be a goodbye of sorts, if the apologetic look you’re shooting him is anything to go by.

“look,” he’s never heard you sound so defeated before. “it was great, okay? the time i had with you, sex and aftercare and pillowtalk—all that shit. it was great but we both know it’s going to end eventua—”

“is the sex that good?”

“excuse me?”

“oh, i see,” johnny says condescendingly, a tone he’s never used when talking to you before but you’re leaving him with no choice. “he’s bigger, is that it? that has to be it. i wouldn’t put it past you, anyway—”

the slap you gave him only served to make his cock twitch under his sweatpants.

“leave.”

staring isn’t a crime. what can a pair of eyes do? it may be sharp like a knife and heavy like a gun in one’s hands but other than that can it physically do any harm? the answer’s simple—no, it fucking can’t. this is why johnny, for the life of him, can’t fathom as to why and what taeyong is so pressed about. johnny never thought him as a nagger, but his friend has transformed into an overgrown bat hovering behind his shoulders as if he’s some kid in need of monitoring.

“you call her a slut and now you’re being a stalker. wow, john, how utterly irresistible you’ve become.” taeyong looks so unfazed by johnny’s sharp eyes that the taller male’s fingers twitched in annoyance.

“i’m not stalking her!” he hisses under his breath, elbowing taeyong’s ribs only to curse when his bone hits the plethora of enamel pins stuck on his friend’s leather jacket. “and i didn’t call her a slut, either. get your facts straight.”

“but you implied it didn’t you?”

before johnny can even growl out a response, taeyong has quickly slipped into the bodies dancing in the middle of the bar.

so what if you were here? so what if this is the same bar you guys met? johnny’s not here for you. fuck, no. he’s here because this bar is closest to the uni and he isn’t in the mood to walk farther than a few blocks.

but no matter how much he claims otherwise, actions have always rang louder than words and johnny knows he’s creating a fool out of himself every time his eyes stray a little too far left and onto your figure, sitting next to a guy whose arm is wrapped around your waist like a vice.

but that’s not the interesting part—johnny wonders why your soulmate has another girl pressed up on his left.

oh, that’s your soulmate alright. judging by how you’d fan yourself fruitlessly with your hands, judging by how you’d cradle the glass filled with cheap beer and ice in hopes of the cold remedying your dried up palms.

but what sold you out? it’s how your eyes met his from way across the room. he knows you enough to see the apprehension and shock in your face only to quickly school it into indifference. the moment you glanced between him and that shitty soulmate of yours, he knows you’ll come crawling back into his arms—it’d only be a matter of time.

and not even hours later johnny’s phone rang and he stared down at your caller id with a sense of pride and sick entertainment rushing through his veins.

he knew he won, he just knew he did.

“and what does the angel need in such an hour?”

funny how you kicked him out of your apartment and now you’re ringing up his cell on the exact time you used to meet each other when you fucked around.

you’ve always been someone he can’t read, someone he can’t understand. may it be your logic, or your actions, or the words you say but it was all part of the appeal. a mystery johnny can’t help but want to unfold. when you called, the last thing he had ever expected was to hear you half-crying and half-moaning out his name like a mantra. he hears the sharp slick sounds and your shaky breath and knows exactly what you’ve been up to.

johnny isn’t a cruel person. it’d be mean of him to not give in when you had asked him so nicely.

“i’ll be there in five, angel.”

you wind back to each other for numerous times even after that night. you yourself always in the same predicament of being high as a fucking cloud, and johnny constantly getting flashbacks of the first few weeks he had with you.

but the way you treated each other has long passed the blurry lines of unspoken boundaries. you just felt so warm lying between his arms that he can’t help but tuck you in tighter, running fingers through your hair as you slept like a baby next to him and not on your soulmate’s bed.

johnny thought he’d won after you came back to him. how foolish of him to think that winning had something to do with this when it had everything to do with the small sparks of desire eating away at his insides—the desire to have you all for himself.

johnny scowls when you ask him to be quiet while in the middle of sex just because your soulmate called. johnny scowls when you refuse to meet up with him because you already have “plans” with your soulmate. johnny scowls when he smells a faint cologne that doesn’t belong to him on the whole of your apartment.

you yawn, subconsciously trying to shrug off johnny’s arms from your body in your sleep as you turned your back on him.

but want to know what johnny hates the most? what leaves a taste so bitter in his tongue that his whole day becomes a whole fucking mess? you trying to push him away… only to throw yourself back right into his arms.

how confusing can you be? how much more of the awful migraines will you let johnny endure? you’re driving him up the wall, pushing him to the edges of his sanity and the frustration only serves to add fuel to the fire.

what was so great about your soulmate that you can’t leave the bastard for good? johnny’s not stupid, he’s seen hickies countless of times to know that some purple marks on your skin are more than that—those weren’t hickies, they’re bruises. and god knows how much johnny hurts inside when you flinch away from him when all he wanted to do was pick away a fallen eyelash on your cheek.

he needed to save you, to snatch you away from the horrors of tartarus to worship you like a goddess again. and when he mulled everything over and over and over in his head, he only came up with one thing.

johnny perks up when he feels the phone vibrating on his lap, your caller id flashing in the dark room as he gamed on his pc. he eyes the phone in the corner of his eyes, contemplating the choices he will make. it’s not that he doesn’t know it’s wrong, but he needs you to wake the fuck up and you were taking too little too long for his taste.

his ringtone is deafening in the quiet room, he watches it vibrate against the table for a few more seconds until it stops. you have one missed phone call/, it says on his notifications.

the screen turns black.

he makes his move.

“what took you so long?” you whine, eyes red and seeing everything in a kaleidoscope as you stumble towards the door in a haste to get to johnny. you hear him strut through the door, shutting it close before hearing the soft pads of his shoes hitting the floor when he toes them off.

“i had to run errands, angel.”

with your hazy mind, you don’t detect the scratchiness of his voice. it’s as if he screamed his heart out until his own voice started to feel like knives against his throat every time he spoke. you were too high, too stoned, that you thought he sounded like melted chocolate, the drugs fucking up your whole system.

you giggle, folding in on yourself as you slumped to the floor, leaning against the wall with your knees tucked under your chin. “what kind of errands?”

“want me to show you?”

you were giggling when you signed your death wish. “yes, please!”

when he leans down, you didn’t smell the metallic scent that seemed to cling onto his clothes, didn’t see the splotches of red that ruined his favorite white shirt, didn’t taste his inhumanity when he leaned down to capture your lips into a heated kiss.

everything is under a thick layer of guise when you look down high up from cloud nine. but if only your feet had been anchored to the ground, maybe you would’ve seen everything as it was—would’ve seen the bat as it comes swinging down the back of your head after he’d pulled away. not enough to kill, just enough to knock you out. the clock starts from there.

johnny needed to be efficient, quick on his feet, as he incapacitated you with enough cable ties and darted around your apartment to shove everything in his duffel bag.

he mumbles to himself as he slots you inside the modest clothes he bought—he’s seen your closet enough to know that there wasn’t enough clothes that can keep you warm, so instead, he made you wear his own.

“this isn’t my fault,” johnny says under his breath as if trying to convince himself. “she forced my hand. forced me to do it. this is her fault.”

with all your big talk of able to withstand the coldness from when you had yet to meet your soulmate, he knew you won’t be able to handle the freezing heights brought by the temperature now that he left your soulmate to rot in a ditch.

this isn’t my fault. this isn’t my fault. this isn’t my fault.

#q'd #nct imagines #nct scenarios #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere johnny #yandere nct 127 #johnny suh smut

[forthegothicheroine]

Sherlock Holmes and Upper Energy

I have never tried cocaine, but I have been prescribed various uppers at various points of my life, including ones that proved to be very unsafe for my brain and resulted in my no longer being prescribed stimulants. Thus, I feel I can relate, at least on a superficial level, to Sherlock Holmes snorting cocaine in an effort to make his brain feel better. In the stories he only does so when not on a case, but of course onscreen he must always be on a case! So, how much Upper Energy do our onscreen Sherlocks have?

Basil Rathbone: Rathbone is always very still, self-possessed, and in control of his body (he was supposedly the best genuine fencer in Hollywood.) His Upper Energy comes from intensity. It’s that state of hyperfocus, where you’re sitting on the couch, legs locked in place, staring intently at something, and you absolutely cannot move until you know everything there is to know and have done everything there is to be done with something. Basil Rathbone’s Sherlock Holmes is in that state all the time. Instead of cataloguing which books on his tbr list are available on thriftbooks vs which are available on kobo while also binge-listening to hundreds of podcasts, he solves crimes.

Peter Cushing: Peter Cushing’s Sherlock Holmes has intense Upper Energy! If his Frankenstein was the evil mad scientist and his Van Helsing was the good mad scientist, his Sherlock is the mercurial mad scientist, ultimately benevolent but something of a trickster. He’s not only smart, he feels smart, and he’s riding that high of being able to do anything as far as it will take him before the inevitable crash. (Cushing would have made a good Willy Wonka.)

Benedict Cumberbatch: I have not seen BBC Sherlock but I was on tumblr when it was big, so this is all pop culture osmosis. From what I can tell from people who have seen the show, his whole appeal was in being calm, deep-voiced and smug, fully in control at all times, which veers away a bit from the Upper Energy we’re trying to get. The whole thing about his “mind palace” could feel like hyperfocus, I suppose, and I’m told his character had drug problems before the start of the show. Maybe he’s still using some old habits?

Johnny Lee Miller: Miller’s Sherlock is in recovery and his drug of choice was heroin, a downer. Still, he has some Upper Energy in his jittering and his sharp tongue (and in his sometime apologies for said sharp tongue.) I thankfully know very little about heroin recovery, but I do recognize a certain amount of those jitters as the “they just changed or removed my medication and my brain is resetting itself” jitters. His natural Upper Energy also plays into the whole reason he developed a drug problem- as he says in an NA meeting, the world feels too loud and bright and fast. The poor guy was self-medicating with drugs, as so many have done before him.

Feel free to add more movie or tv Sherlocks (and please don’t be offended, I was just watching Basil Rathbone and feeling sympathy!)

#sherlock holmes #drugs cw #mental health cw

[bungeenomin]

Jealous- Kim Jungwoo

Genre: Hard dom!Jungwoo X Reader, smut

Word count:1.6k

Summary: Jungwoo is all smiles and sunshine until he gets jealous, and he just so happens to get jealous over the smallest things when it comes to you

Warnings: overstimulation, orgasm denial, dirty talk, oral (male and female recieving), unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

A/N: *sips holy water* aha, enjoy. let me know what you think and feel free to send me a request.

Main masterlist

“Mark give it back” you giggle, leaning across the boy to try and reach your phone that he snatched from your hand.

“As if tiny, if you want it you can get it yourself” Mark replies, sticking his tongue at you.

‘That’s it’ you thought, as you sit on top of the boy, pulling at his arm in order to try and reach your phone. That was until, he lifted you off and started running around the house, phone in hand. You chase after him as fast as you can, running in and out of rooms.

While this frantic chase with Mark is going on, your boyfriend Jungwoo is biting his tongue, trying to keep his composure. He’s angry. Really damn angry. Jungwoo never ever shows this side to the boys. His jealous side. His dominant side. To the boys, he’s happy, easy going Jungwoo which yeah, he is. Until you test him which right now, you certainly were.

Jungwoo is snapped out of his thoughts by Johnny, “hey do you want a drink?”

Jungwoo smiles softly at the older boy, “i’m driving home”

You come back into the living room after finally retrieving your phone from Mark and sit beside your boyfriend, reaching for his hand which he doesn’t offer you. He’s tense.

“Jungwoo babe what’s wro-”

“We’re gonna talk when we get home” Jungwoo whispers, trying not to make it obvious to his members that he’s angry.

You pout, your hand reaching out to touch his thigh, “bu-”

“No buts, i said we’re gonna talk when we get home, don’t push me right now” your boyfriend says, brushing your hand off of him. What did you even do to piss him off, especially this much?

You sigh, before getting up from your seat to go and see what Mark and Donghyuck were doing. Lucky for you, you couldn’t see your boyfriends eyes burning through your back.

About an hour and a half passes by and you hear Jungwoo saying his goodbye’s to his friends, indicating you were leaving. Jungwoo walks towards you, Mark and Donghyuck who were currently sprawled across the rug in the living room talking and gossiping.

“Let’s go” Jungwoo says, a smile on his face. You know better than to believe that’s a genuine smile. He meant what he said earlier and you know for some reason, you’re in trouble when you get home.

You give Mark and Donghyuck hugs, saying goodbye before standing up to join your boyfriend.

You expected him to say something so you as soon as you left Johnny and Jaehyun’s apartment, but nothing. Not a single word. Similarly, the car journey home was silent, aside from the sound of the world outside and the motor of the car. No carpool karaoke, no talking about your day, no hand on your thigh. Nothing but a stone cold faced Jungwoo.

You’re nervous when Jungwoo is opening the front door of your house. You know you’re about to get it from him, but you still have no idea why.

The second you enter the house, you are shoved harshly up against the front door, being held at the shoulders by your furious boyfriend.

“Now tell me princess”, Jungwoo starts, “what the fuck were you playing at back there”

You’re in shock. You can’t think of anything you could have possibly done to make Jungwoo this mad with you.

“I don’t know what i did” you pout, scared for your boyfriend’s reaction.

“Don’t act fucking dumb with me” Jungwoo darkly chuckles, “am i not enough for you? do you really have to go flirt with other people right under my nose?hmm?”

“I didn-”

“You know what princess, the dumb act is really not sitting well with me” Jungwoo spits. “You were practically sat on Mark’s lap, flirting with him and as if he wasn’t enough, you decided to flirt with Donghyuck too. What? Do you want to go fucking suck off Mark huh? Think him and Hyuck can fuck you like i do?”

You shake your head indicating no.

“Use your words”

“N-no” you stutter.

“Then prove it to me. Knees now” he says, releasing your shoulders and moving his hands to unbuckle his belt. You oblige, dropping to your knees as your boyfriend lets his joggers and boxers drop to his ankles, letting his hard cock spring out.

Jungwoo takes a step closer to you, his tip brushing against your lips, “Open” he demands, as you open your mouth, Jungwoo shoving the tip in your mouth, your tongue getting to work.

You’re hair is grabbed harshly and you’re forced to look Jungwoo straight in the eye as you bring your hand to the base of his dick. “Ah ah princess, you can make me cum with your dirty mouth alone. Maybe that’ll teacher you not to use it for flirting with other guys”.

You nod obediently, wrapping your mouth back around his large cock, swirling your tongue around his tip again like you know he likes it. This doesn’t last long as Jungwoo pushes your head down the length of his cock by your hair, hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag.

“Not thinking about Mark now huh?” Jungwoo questions breathily, clearly enjoying your actions, pushing you head faster and deeper up and down his hard member.

Tears streaming down your face as you moan around Jungwoo, driving Jungwoo insane.

“Fuck” Jungwoo moans, pulling your head off of his cock, a mixture of pre cum and saliva joining your lips to him still. “I’m not done with you yet. Strip”

You look at Jungwoo wide eyed, before removing your clothing, Jungwoo not taking his eyes off of you once. Once all your clothes are off, Jungwoo picks you up and carries you to the couch, placing you down and immediately sitting between your legs.

“If you cum before i say you can don’t even think you’ll be getting touched for the next month” Jungwoo spits, anger in his eyes.

Once you nod in compliance, Jungwoo doesn’t give you a second to think as he licks a stripe up your soaking wet pussy. He isn’t even teasing you today.

You let out a small moan, grabbing onto the couch beside you. “Making such pretty sounds already and i haven’t even started? Dirty girl. Hyuck wouldn’t make you feel this way, would he?”

“No, just you” you groan. Squirming in Jungwoo’s grasp, trying to get him to touch you again.

“So needy for me” he smugly chuckles.

Jungwoo brings his head back down but this time, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud, sucking hard and running his tongue over it quickly before shoving two fingers in, his pace faster than you could take.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jungwoo too much too much” you scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. As if his actions weren’t enough, your boyfriend reaches his spare hand up to one of your hard nipples and squeezing it harshly between his fingers.

“Jungwoo i need to cum please i can’t hold it anymore fuck please no one could ever make me feel like this just you please fuck babe let me cum” you scream, grabbing tightly at your boyfriends hair, using every ounce of strength you have left to not cum until permitted.

Jungwoo moves his hand from your now sore nipple to your thigh tapping it twice, his indication that you can cum as his mouth is currently busy. You finally let go, moans of Jungwoo’s name and foul language spilling from your mouth.

Jungwoo removes his fingers from inside you and his mouth from your clit, replacing his mouth with his fingers, rubbing against your nub at a rapid pace, screams and pleas for him to stop over stimulating fill Jungwoo’s ears. But he knows the safe word, and he knows you know it too.

With the reassurance of you not using your safe word, Jungwoo lines himself with your core, which is pulsating from the overstimulation, before snapping his hips into you.

“Jungwoo holy fuck i just came” you scream your entire body shaking from the pleasure.

“Well princess, i had to watch you flirting for much longer than i wanted to earlier so you’re going to have to be pleasured until i’m ready to finish” Jungwoo groans, his hips rapidly pounding into you as he throws his head back.

“F-fuck” you moan, clenching tightly around your boyfriends large cock.

“Fuck baby you’re so tight for me” Jungwoo moans, “Mark would never make you feel like this”

“Babe p-please i need to-” before you can even finish you sentence you moan louder than you ever have, cumming around Jungwoo’s dick.

“Mmh my dirty girl. Only i can make you feel like this can’t i?” Jungwoo moans, edging towards his climax.

At this point, your body is in complete shock from the over stimulation. A shaky “yes” is all that you can gather yourself to say as you feel Jungwoo twitch inside of you.

Jungwoo picks up his pace, ruthlessly pounding into you, bringing himself to his high. A loud moan escapes your boyfriends lips as he rides out his high inside you. The pleasure of your boyfriend cumming inside of you bringing you to your third climax of the night.

Once you both finished your release, Jungwoo pulls out slowly, before throwing himself down beside you on the couch, holding your still shaking body.

“It’s okay my angel, you did so so well for me” he praises, placing gentle kisses all over your face.

“You did such a good job my baby” he smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m never looking in Mark or Hyuck’s direction again” you mumble against his chest, earning a breathy giggle from your boyfriend.

“That’s my girl”

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