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imagineyouandharry · 4 years

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enemies to lovers harry!

Yes! So, I got super inspired by this and rushed to pump this little bad boy out. Feedback is highly appreciated! I’m thinking this will be part one of a series! I love collage au Harry it makes me all fuzzy inside. TYSM anon!!

GHB - Harry Styles

warnings: drug and alcohol use, drink spiking, not proofread or edited as it was made in haste.

word count: 4,704

It wasn’t that Y/N and Harry just weren’t friends, they despised each other. Ever since Harry weaselled his way into their friend group things had turned upside down, the dynamic had shifted, and it was a new person that Y/N had to get used to. His confidence and outgoing personality overpowered her shy, introverted personality tenfold. College life was difficult enough. Not only was Y/N learning how to balance academics with maintaining a social life and going out to parties, navigating things new to her like alcohol, drugs, and sex; but now she had to adjust to this shift in their friend group, and get to know this new guy. Her friendship group was her safe place, ‘family’ dinners at each other’s apartments, going out to dinner at bars, even little things like going for walks or taking a new yoga or pilates class. Now, that safe place didn’t feel so safe anymore, having to get used to this new guy being around all the time that everyone gushed over. Harry seemed so warm to practically everyone in the group towards Y/N, though everyone seemed to be clueless towards it except for her.

Harry and Y/N shared one class together, educational psychology. She’d been studying education to become a primary school teacher, and he studied psychology. It felt so fucking ironic that the one class they would ever have overlapping, they’d end up in the same class, to add salt to the wound in the second lesson they had been assigned to do a group project together. Harry hadn’t even shown up to that lesson though, so he’d yet to even acknowledge it. It was the second semester of Harry being around and not only did he barely acknowledge her when their friends weren’t around, but now they were to be working on an assignment together and he hadn’t even managed to show up to the first lesson discussing the topic.

“No, I’m serious Sarah. I don’t want to go. He didn’t even show up to class today, why should I give him my time of day by showing up to his stupid fucking party?” Y/N’s words were followed by a deep sigh, the way she curled her hair as she stared in the mirror contradicted her words. If all her friends were going, she felt like she had no choice but to go to. If not, she’d get major FOMO. “Babe, you’re taking it way too personality. It’s not like either of you knew you’d end up partnered together for the assignment. I really don’t get why you’re always so sour towards him.” Sarah replied with a slight shake of her head. “It’s been what, six months and the two of you still stand on opposite sides of the rest of us in photos? It’s either crazy sexual tension, or the there’s something that’s happened that the rest of us don’t know about.” This time Sarah couldn’t help but laugh, however all of their friend group had been theorising for a while now that Harry and Y/N were just too into each other and both too stubborn to admit their feelings.

Y/N scoffed, turning the curling iron off and placing it down on the counter. “Sexual tension? ‘d rather cut off my left arm than even think of Harry in a sexual way.” Her words had venom to them this time, grabbing a brush to brush out and soften her curls. Although she claimed to not have any attraction towards Harry, she’d put far more effort into her appearance than usual, and was wearing this little satin sage green dress that was exaggerating her curves.

“Whatever, you ready? Uber’s out front.” Sarah pushed herself up from the closed toilet seat she’d been sitting on, Y/N finished work late and Sarah had been far too excited to wait to get ready. Harry lived in a share house in the suburb over, and Sarah had been begging him to throw a party for months now. “One last shot on the way out?” She asked, it wasn’t a question though, she was already on her way to the kitchen to pout them one last shot of tequila before leaving. Y/N nods and follows her out, grabbing her oversized leather blazer and little handbag on the way. Y/N was shy, but around Sarah she was usually a lot more vocal, there was just a great deal of nerves surrounding tonight. Y/N always tried her best to come off as outgoing at parties and around other peoples, but really she hated the crowds, hating having to make conversation with people she knows nothing about. After a few drinks that shyness often faded though, and was usually replaced with either a blabber mouth, or being far more flirtatious than normal.

Both of the girls hastily downed their shots before exiting the apartment, hustling down the stairs and out to their ride that awaited them outside. The ride wasn’t long at all, it was too short if anything, and was spent sneaking sips of tequila from a flask that Sarah had in her purse. “Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah? I know you aren’t best of friends with Harry but there’ll be plenty of other people there, I doubt you’ll even see him much.” Sarah tells Y/N as the car turned into his street, able to tell that her best friend’s attitude was off. “I get that. It’ll be fine, stop worrying about me, yeah? It’ll be fun.” Y/N replied with a slightly forced smile in attempt to shake Sarah off of her tail. The Uber arrived before the conversation could go any further, both of the girls slightly drunk already made their thanks to the Uber driver probably too over the top before they left and made their way up to the house. People were overflowing already, some sitting on the grass outside the large brick house. The door was unlocked so they made their way in, the bass inside so strong that Y/N could feel it on her fingertips on the doorhandles as she opened the door.

Now, it wasn’t that Harry was known as a bad boy around campus or anything of the sorts. Everyone knows he’s approachable and friendly, which was probably what added to his appeal. He had a bright personality and knew how to make people feel special to him, and for that and his looks girls flocked to him. Harry was known to be fun, handsome, and good to be around (to everyone except for Y/N, that is). It was a given that the party would be full of girls, and full of guys ready to clean up any of Harry’s sloppy seconds or rejects.

The first to formally greet Y/N and Sarah was of course Mitch, who had been on the lookout waiting for the two of them since he first arrived to help set up. “M’ladies, ‘bout time the two of you showed up.” The stupid grin on his face and the way he hugged each of them probably a little too hard was enough to give away that he’d been drinking quite a bit already. He already had a drink in his hand waiting for Sarah, planting a kiss to her forehead as he handed it to her. “Two hands so I could only hold two drinks, but there’s heaps in the kitchen. Grab a drink and come meet us outside for a smoke?” Mitch asked down to Y/N, she didn’t take offence to him not getting her a drink, and to be honest she’d rather make her own anyway. “You got it captain.” Y/N replied, giving the tall man a playful salute before she made her way to the kitchen, dodging bodies and conversations so she could get herself a drink.

That drink became much more needed when she entered the kitchen, her mouth going dry when she saw Harry leaning against the counter as he looked down at his phone, ferociously texting. He looked up when Y/N brushed past him to grab a cup, pouring in some tequila. “Not going to say hey?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. He grabbed the Sprite from the fridge, although they didn’t speak he still knew her go-to. “Looked busy.” She responds, her voice blunt. “Thanks.” She adds in regard to the Sprite as he passed it to her, her guilty conscience wouldn’t let her live down being so impolite if she didn’t thank him. “Didn’t know this party would still happen since you didn’t show up to class today. We got partnered up for the presentation assignment.” She adds, it was bugging her far too much to just let it slide. “Yeah, sorry. I was meant to be back in time, had to pick coke up off this guy a few towns over and he kept me waiting outside his place for like an hour. Fill me in on it all when I’m not drunk?” He asks, standing next to her as he mixed his own drink. “I guess, yeah. Don’t expect me to do all the work though, and I actually want to go well in this class so it wouldn’t hurt if you actually put in some effort.” Maybe it was the alcohol, but Y/N was being a lot more demanding than she usually was, and her demeanour a lot more cold and forward than she’d often let on.

“Fuck, alright. I think you need to pour a bit more into your drink and loosen up some more.” Harry laughs, shaking his head before he grabbed the bottle of tequila and added an extra splash to her drink. Y/N took her first proper look at Harry, only to shoot him a narrow eyed glare. It was hard to stay mad though, the tequila from pre-game and the Uber was making it harder to be serious and angry, and his outfit was enough to make her drool. He wore cream wide legged trousers that went to the floor, and a white ribbed tank top tucked in. By far he had the nicest taste out of any guy she’d ever met, that was hard to deny. It was just a house party, but people often took any excuse they could to dress up a little bit. On the other side of things, Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of Y/N. He was used to seeing her in her usually Nike sweats and vintage sweater, which he still thought she looked beautiful in regardless but he’d never admit that to anyone. To him, Y/N was untouchable. Sure people in their friend group dated like Sarah and Mitch, but he didn’t want to ruin things. That, and she seemed too uptight for him anyway, he often mistook her shy attitude as coming off as a snob, and the way she spoke about the stupid group assignment only drilled that view of her into Harry’s head further.

“Get out of it.” Y/N grunts, sliding her drink away from Harry. “Love, can we just pretend to get long for one night? Have a dance, have a drink. Do you want some coke or something? Or, I think there’s people hot boxing the upstairs bathroom if that’s more your speed.” Harry offers, attempting to extend the olive branch to the standoffish girl beside him. “I’m far too sober to take up any of those offers. Anyway, good talk. Let me know when you’re free to talk about the presentation. I’ll see you ‘round, Harry.” Y/N said, giving Harry a far too sarcastic smile before she grabbed her drink and made her way out to the backyard to find Mitch and Sarah.

A group of people sat out by a fire pit in the corner of the backyard, garden chairs and outdoor lounges circling the source of warmth. Mitch and Sarah had saved Y/N a spot, to which she happily plopped down into. “Took you long enough.” Sarah teased, elbowing her side. “Mm, cup shortage going on in there.” She said, taking a sip. She fished the little nicotine vape out of her bag, sucking on that as she looked into the fire. Alright, if you don’t lighten up already everyone’s going to think you’re a party pooper and a trash time to be around. Loosen up. Make friends. Her little pep talk in her head, and the sip of her stronger than usual drink courtesy of Harry was motivating enough to engage in conversation with some other people around the fire pit. Most were smoking actual cigarettes or joints, Y/N preferred the little flavoured vapes. She’d never been addicted, but smoked more as a social thing, and at least this way it didn’t taste bad and she didn’t smell like cigarettes.

Conversation flowed, Naomi and Adam joined them, but Harry was still inside. Everyone just assumed he was probably distracted with some girl, or attending to party host responsibilities. “I’m going to pop to the toilet really quick and grab another drink.” Y/N told Sarah once she’d polished off what was left in her cup. She got up and made her way inside, she didn’t get all too far on her journey to the bathroom before she was stopped by Max.

Y/N and Max had known each other for a while now, they’d hooked up at parties a few times before she came to her senses and started avoiding him while out. He wasn’t taking the rejection all that lightly. “Hey, been looking for you. Drink?” He asks, holding out the little red cup containing God only knows what. The alcohol pumping through her veins was prohibiting her from thinking about it too much. “Uh, thanks. Didn’t know you’d be here tonight, friends with Harry?” She asked as she took the cup, having a sip. Tequila and orange juice, not her favourite mix but it would do. Max shrugged. “Figured you’d be here, thought we could catch up. Come down and dance with me?” He replied, moving his hand to her waist which made her stomach turn. “Maybe later, I’m in a hurry though. I’ll see you later on.” Y/N managed to push herself past him, only to get caught in a group of girls from a sociology class she’d taken last semester.

The girls babbled on, and as they did Y/N managed to finish off her drink. By the time the cup was empty she was desperate for the bathroom, the conversations ended up lasting almost half an hour, ending with promises of ‘we have to catch up soon!’. When she managed to peel herself away from the girls she found the bathroom, ending up staying in there for a little while enjoying the solace of being alone. Things started to not feel right as she sat there on the bathroom floor. The room began to spin, and confusion began to set in about what was going on, or where she even was. Nausea began to set in, but she was too out of it to even begin to panic or use her phone to call or message anyone. The last thing she could remember was managing to lean over to vomit in the toilet before laying down on the floor as she lost consciousness, the cold tiles pressing against her bare legs.

Harry had been standing at the end of the hallway talking to Holly, a gorgeous girl from one of his classes that he’d been hoping to see tonight. Harry was an observant guy though, he always knew what was going on around him. From the corner of his eye he’d noticed Max give Y/N the drink, thinking not much of it as he knew that the two of them had hooked up before. Harry continued talking up and making out with the girl he stood with, making promises of having her over sometime to watch films and order in dinner. Harry would never take advantage of a drunk girl and had no intention of going any further with her than making out. The tall boy went downstairs to make himself and his girl of the night a drink, when he came back upstairs he noticed Y/N go into the bathroom. He continued his conversation with Holly, sipping their drinks as they laughed and flirted with each other. Concerns began to rise when Y/N never left the bathroom though, and it was like he began to sober up when he noticed Max making his way towards the bathroom. He set his drink down on the windowsill. “Give me a second.” He murmurs to Holly before he made his way to stand between Max and the bathroom door.

“This one’s occupied, mate. Try the downstairs bathroom.” He said, his voice stern. “Y/N texted me, said she wanted me to meet her in there.” Max replied, though Harry knew his phone had died at leat an hour ago as he heard him moaning about it to his mates. “Really? Because she just texted me saying she wanted me in there. I think it’s time for you to head off.” Harry stood his ground, matching his lies with his own. Harry was taller than Max, not necessarily more buff, but he was more intimidating when he wanted to be, and it was his house, full of his friends and people who would back him up. “You know what? Have fun. She’s too fucking difficult anyway.” Max was clearly disgruntled as he spoke, turning around and trudging off without another word.

Harry knocked on the bathroom door, pressing his ear against it to see if he could hear anything coming from inside. “Y/N? You alright, love?” He calls, his voice competing with the loud music pumping through the house. After a minute of no responses to his knocks or calls he made his way into the unlocked room, closing the door behind him. “Fuck.” He hissed when he saw the girl on the floor, immediately he took out his phone and ordered an Uber. He leant down and put her bag over his shoulder, making sure it had her phone and things still in it before scooping her up. The way her body was completely limp in his arms made him sick. How could anyone do this to someone? He made sure she was breathing, she was breathing loud enough that she was practically snoring in his arms. “Fuckin’ hell, pet.” He couldn’t help but sigh. Harry had always had a protective nature, and while he’d never admit his attraction towards Y/N he clearly cared about her enough to do this. He carried her outside to wait out in the fresh air for the car, ignoring any questions from people that tried to stop him. The rest of their friend group were still in the backyard, oblivious to anything going on.

He had decided he’d have to take her home, she wasn’t showing any signs of waking up soon. Holly wasn’t even an afterthought for Harry right now, too concerned with ensuring Y/N’s safety. When the Uber eventually did arrive he got in, being careful to do her seatbelt up before he did his as he told the driver where to go. “Big night, huh?” The driver laughs, Harry attempted a laugh in response. He didn’t want to look suspicious, or like he was the one that had drugged her. “Very big night, gotta get this one home to bed.” Harry replied, attempting to joke around with the driver for the rest of the ride. Y/N still showed no signs of regaining consciousness, he contemplated whether or not hospital was the right idea but he was also pretty knowledgable about this sort of stuff. Not that he’d ever date raped someone before, but Harry experimented with drugs himself and he’d researched GHB before and knew the side effects. It was just something that interested him, chemicals and the impact they had on the body. It came in handy too, like in situations like this.

Once the car pulled up to Y/N and Sarah’s apartment building he took her up, managing to hold her over one shoulder as he fished the keys out of his back and pushed inside. The paranoid part of him made sure to lock the door after them, in case Max decided to follow. He took her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed and taking her jacket and heels off before tucking her under the blankets. He didn’t want to change her, not wanting her to feel more violated than she already had been. In place of putting warm pyjamas on her he managed to find an extra blanket to put over her, then putting a glass of water and a box of Advil beside the bed before he went and sat down on the couch to finally breathe for a minute.

He felt guilty, even though it wasn’t his fault he felt like it fell on his shoulders. It was his party. He hadn’t known that Max was like that, hell, he barely knew the guy. He laid down on the couch as he thought about it, staring up at the ceiling. He would never forget the feeling of having her limp body in his arms, or seeing her unconscious on that bathroom floor. He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he laid there contemplating the evening, but eventually he fell asleep there, still fully clothed with his shoes on.

***

The pounding in Y/N’s head was what woke her up so early, when she reluctantly opened her eyes to check the clock beside her bed it read 6:12am. What the fuck happened, and how did I get here? She barely even remembered the events that led to her in that bathroom, and she definitely had no clue how she got home. She sat up slowly as if to not anger the headache she had, reaching out for the water and Advil that was beside the alarm clock. Although she wanted to just curl up and hide under the blankets, she knew that wouldn’t help, and the makeup still on her face wasn’t helping how she was feeling. After taking the pain killers she made her way to the bathroom to have a hot shower, closing her eyes as she leant against the wall letting the hot water run over her body to comfort her. It was jut her and Sarah that lived in the apartment, and occasionally Mitch would come over, so she just wrapped a towel around her body after towel drying her hair before she went out to the kitchen to make coffee.

On her way was when she noticed the snoring Harry on the couch, her eyes going wide as she tried to think about why on Earth he would be here. She figured they hadn’t done anything, considering he had slept on the couch and still had his fucking shoes on. She went to her bedroom and replaced the towel she was using to cover herself with a fuzzy white robe, then going to the kitchen to make coffee and wait for the Advil to kick in. Never had she ever get so hungover, she was usually blessed to never get bad hangovers, always making sure to drink loads of water and eat before bed after a night out. There was nothing worse than waking up like this.

It was early, so she decided to not wake Harry with a cup of coffee. She made hers and then returned to her room to scroll through her phone. There were dozens of missed calls and texts from her friends. Sarah had left a bunch of messages asking where she was, letting her know she’d be staying at Mitch’s for the night. There was even a few from Max calling her things like a ‘dumb slut’, to which she promptly deleted.

About an hour went by before she heard a rustling in the living room, venturing out to go see Harry, and hopefully find some answers about last night. “Hey, morning.” Her voice was soft as she leant in the doorway that connected the living room to the hallway that led to her and Sarah’s bedroom and the bathroom. Harry turned around to her quickly, his face full of concern. “How you feeling?” He asked, rubbing some sleep from his eyes. “I’ve felt better. Do you uh, know what happened last night?” She asked, holding her empty coffee mug in one hand. She’d refill hers and make Harry one if he decided to stay. “I think you were drugged, by that Max guy. Took you home ‘cause you were passed out in the bathroom. Don’t worry, nothing happened to you.” He said, sitting down on the arm of the sofa. He didn’t feel too bad, he sobered up pretty much completely before he fell asleep. “Oh…” Was all Y/N could respond with. She didn’t know how to handle that news, and she didn’t want to get all emotional in front of Harry. It was a confusing feeling that she wasn’t sure how to deal with.

“Want some coffee?” She asks him, part of her embarrassed about what had happened and the fact that he’d had to leave the party to take care of her. “That’d be lovely. Black, no sugar.” He said, a slight smile on his lips. He didn’t want to push her to talk about what happened, and it seemed like changing the conversation was how she wanted to handle it for now. Y/N nods, going into the kitchen to make some coffee for the two of them. Harry waited in his spot, running his hands through his hair. “You mind if I have a quick shower?” He calls out to her. “Sure! Mitch leaves clothes here, in the top drawer of Sarah’s dresser!” She called back, the volume in her voice was enough to somewhat trigger her headache again. She finished up making their mugs of coffee before she went to the couch to wait for Harry, setting his mug down beside hers. It felt strange, being alone with him.

When Harry came back his hair was still damp from his shower, and he smelt like her vanilla and honey body wash. “Thank you, for last night. I really appreciate it… I know it must’ve sucked leaving the party and if there’s any way I can make it up to you. I’m so embarrassed, and I’m really lucky that you were there to get me home.” Y/N was probably rambling, speaking almost too fast for Harry to comprehend this early in the morning. “Love, it’s fine. There’ll be other parties. Just glad you go home safe. If I see that weasel of a bloke again I’ll be giving him a fuckin’ piece of my mind.” Harry angered just thinking about what had happened, sitting down on the couch beside her. He wore some grey sweats and an old Pink Floyd t-shirt that Mitch had left. “Well, thank you. If you wanna stick around I’ll make some breakfast? Sarah and I usually make waffles and watch The Simpsons every Saturday morning.” She tells him, it was the most hospitality she’d ever shown towards Harry. It took him back slightly, not expecting her to be so warm towards him. He swears she’d even smiled at him as she made the offer, he’d never really seen her smile at him before. “Fuck it. It’ll be a good story to tell the others, doubt they’d believe we sat in the same room as each other and got along for this long.” He chuckles, sinking into the couch as he had a sip from his mug, looking to the tv as the girl beside him put on the silly cartoon. Maybe this was the start of a friendship, or not, but the two of them both felt at ease finally being at peace with each other for once, regardless for how long it was going to last.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader

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neocatharsis · 3 years

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NCT Dream Is All Grown Up and Ready to Show What They Can Do

On a warm, late summer evening of 2016 in Seoul, South Korea, seven boys hoverboarded right into the most defining experience of their youth. Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung, then aged 17 to 14 years old, were making their debut as NCT Dream — a subunit focused on the youngest forces of SM Entertainment’s mega-group NCT. Their first title track, “Chewing Gum,” was as bubbly as its name, with choreography that required nimble maneuvers on the two-wheeled vehicle.

Fast forward nearly five years, and the Dreamies — as they are commonly known — are ready to cross another major threshold in their lives. Their highly-anticipated, 1.7 million-seller first studio album, Hot Sauce, is out today (May 10).

A few days before that, the members huddled together for a conversation with Teen Vogue via Zoom. Clad in black hoodies, face masks, and a few bucket hats, the initial impression is a striking contrast to the vivid atmosphere of their bright, cartoonish teasers for this promo cycle. Rather, this is NCT Dream in the blue hour, right at that moment of transition between the haze of preparations and the awakened reality of their most prominent comeback so far.

“We haven’t even started the actual promotions yet, but just from receiving this much love and support from our fans, we feel very touched, very, very inspired and supported,” says leader and eldest member Mark. Today, he’s wearing a pair of round glasses that complement his laidback, chill nature, while his expressive hands ruffle through his ocean blue hair, settling across his chest in an embrace. “We’re just focusing on how we can return the love that we received from them through our music.”

To say NCT Dream have grown — in all competencies — is not only obvious, but a meager understatement. Through their four EPs, the hoverboards became cardboard cars, then bikes, then motorcycles. Voices deepened, limbs grew longer, jawlines became sharper. And with all that, a number of accolades and records followed. Hot Sauce is currently the best-selling album among all releases from SM Entertainment. And out of all four current NCT units, the Dreamies were the first to receive a music show win, for 2017’s single “My First and Last,” and the first no. 1 on Korea’s largest music chart, Melon, with 2020’s “Ridin.” They received numerous prizes in Korean award shows, collaborated with English singer HRVY, released a single with American boy band Prettymuch, and also became global ambassadors of the World Scout Foundation in 2019 (an experience that culminated in viral mosh pits during the 24th World Scout Jamboree in West Virginia).

“When we debuted as teens, a lot of our music was very bright and cheerful, and that went with our age,” says the lavender-haired Jisung, who is the youngest of the group at 19. Although they are still the same endearing rascals off stage — the most chaotic footvolley game ever comes to mind — they have now “transitioned through all these phases, and with each of them we were able to show a higher level of maturity,” he adds.

In that way, Hot Sauce is their most seasoned effort yet. “We wanted to show NCT Dream’s charms through this ‘hot sauce’ vibe,” says the suave Jaemin, whose attentive eyes remain locked on the screen for most of the interview. “We have a showcase coming up where we plan to show a lot of our b-side tracks for the fans, so we’re very excited for that.” According to Haechan, the resident ray-of-sunshine of the group and owner of one of the most unique vocal colors of K-pop, they prepared a long time for this moment, and want to “show off that spicy side.”

Show off might be the best word choice indeed, as NCT Dream has dabbled with fire plenty of times before in their discography. Think of the rubbery, sticky synths of 2018’s “Drippin’” and its lyrics about a soaking wet love, or the dangerous atmosphere in 2019’s “119,” where they call themselves “twisted” and say “I like it like that.” In Hot Sauce, what was once un condimento is now a full course meal.

The album stimulates the eyes through the psychedelic TV ad-meets-taquería of the “Hot Sauce” music video, the nostalgic ‘90s photography of the teasers, the zany illustrations of the album packaging. For the ears, a 10-track collection of scorching pop with Latin and Afrobeat-inspired sounds (“Hot Sauce,” “Rocket”) and trap and hip hop — “Diggity”, “Countdown (3, 2, 1)”, “ANL” — but also soothing balms like the soft rock of “Dive Into You” and the crystalline vocals of “Rainbow,” a track co-written by Mark, Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung, where they express “words we want to tell our fans,” according to Shanghai-born star Chenle.

That is because the Dreamies have a special reverence for Dreamzens, their fans. If it wasn’t for their support, the group’s fate could look much different now. Although it might seem counterintuitive in hindsight, the original concept for NCT Dream was to be a rotational unit. Members would “graduate” once they reached 20 years old in Korea (19 internationally), and younger, fresher faces would be added to the ensemble. It can be said that NCT Dream embodied the core concept of NCT as a whole: they held the promise of youth, its shifting nature, and the willingness to dream. But to come of age on screen and experience such foundational moments of life together begets a lingering bond — a transformation that can’t be nullified so easily.

In December 2018, Mark was the first to leave — and the last.

Dreamzens knew how special the original lineup (dubbed 7DREAM until today) was, and stood by his return and the establishment of a fixed unit. In 2020, they rejoiced as SM Entertainment finally decided to scrap the graduation concept altogether and announce Mark’s return. Hot Sauce is their first comeback since this news. “When I heard that I was coming back, I realized how big of an opportunity this could be,” says Mark. “And not only that, but to be able to be part of our first full-length album, I felt like I was lucking [out]. It all comes with the timing and everything, so, from all angles, I felt like the world helped out on this, and that our fans helped out a lot too.”

The members are thankful for his return, too. “I like the members the most!” exclaims Chenle when asked about his favorite part of the comeback. At one point in the conversation, Haechan grabs Mark’s hand and dramatically declares, in English: “Mark, you are very special. NCT Dream means Mark.” He looks at the screen to make sure this moment is being registered. Flustered, Mark quickly pulls away and laughs it off as Jisung chimes in. “All the members have their own uniqueness, their own specialties, that’s the charm of NCT Dream.”

Soft-spoken Renjun, whose half-platinum, half-black locks are hidden underneath a beige cap, explains that he and his bandmates didn’t think much about the impending graduation when they debuted. “Especially because it was the [original] system for NCT groups, we just accepted that fact,” Renjun says. “But now that NCT Dream is fixed, there’s a lot of enthusiasm to come up with new concepts and ideas, and we’re very excited to show them.”

Jeno, whose sweet-eyed smile contrasts with his commanding rap and dance skills, says that they went through a lot of lessons and experiences since debut, but that the greatest one was “learning what we’re able to do and show in our stages, and through that, finding ways to connect with our fans and make sure they enjoy it.” After all, as Chenle adds, NCT Dream means “being able to dream the same dreams with our members and our fans.”

For now, they are ready to bask in the flavorful glory of this era, and all the outcomes it will bring. “One of our goals when we debuted was to bring happiness and healing to people’s lives, and we do feel like we were able to achieve that,” says Renjun.

“Our fans witnessed it all from the start. We grew together, so now it’s time to show what it is like with NCT Dream being adults,” adds Mark. “We can be a perfect example of what growth and development look like.”

#nct #nct dream #hotsauce

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elsannabackwardsposts · 3 years

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Ya'll, i couldn't get that recent Anon's "Elsa touching Anna's abs" prompt out of my head. So here ya go, a new Bonus. 😆😆😆😆😆

It had been such a long day. Even if just working once a week, the trip to and from the business center, let alone the actual tasking demands of the Trade Center's daily work, always wore the champion rower thin. A 2k was even less draining I'm some regards. At least this time around they were actually paying her. Surprisingly well for a Temp employee who didn't even meet the criteria for part-timer, and her previous pain in the ass supervisor was now considered an equal level colleague. Small silver linings had to be appreciated.

But today, she'd fielded questions on a tough deal, with her superiors demanding an ungodly amount paperwork be completed by day's end for a huge meeting in the morning. And of course, her astute eye caught the tiniest error the exact minute before the final contract was getting faxed. A missing Oxford comma. So tiny, but if not corrected, left wiggle room for the client to claim additional benefits, likely costing ATC a year's loss of revenue in the long run. Honestly, they didn't pay her enough for the value of her literacy. The battle to get people to stay a little later and fix the mistake, as well as giving a lesson in general grammar, was ridiculously more frustrating than ever needed.

Letting out a tired breath, she finally arrived home and opened the door to her apartment, ready to shower and change into her pajamas. An early night was definitely what she needed.

But standing at the counter, she spotted the familiar flash of brilliant red hair. Her summer roommate was standing in front of her laptop, set up on the kitchen island, spandex leggings and a crop-top tank on, stretching side to side. She had turned her head over her shoulder, tossing a smile and giving a wave to the new arrival before switching back to her activity.

Sliding off her heels, Elsa smiled, assuming the young woman was trying out some YouTube video stretching examples again. The variety on the internet definitely kept the energetic girl's mind active and attentive.

Her initial plan was to walk around and go about her nightly routine, giving the girl some space to finish her activity without interruption. But her gaze was suddenly caught.

The red head had lifted her arms and begun doing an upper body twist; the action, even at her angle, instantly revealing a tight contraction of her exposed midsection; ridges of muscular abdominals visible even along the lateral plane. Elsa's breath held.

Later, she'd think back and account her next actions to the fatigue caused by the long day; lack of energy to restrain herself from her internal urge to reach out and touch the smooth skin; to feel the rolling ripples running down the small curve of the young rower's stomach.

It had been an ever present urge, ever since the very first time she'd laid eyes on the girl's actual physique a lifetime ago.. However with normally so much space between them, incredible mental fortitude, and basic human propriety, she was successfully prevented from ever acting on such lewd thoughts. Oh it had been so hard after she'd gotten to feel the contact for the first time, touching and kissing the beautiful form.

Still, she often kept the thoughts to herself, even nowadays, when such actions were completely legal by the terms of where their relationship stood. Maybe it was because of how long she'd repressed herself, holding back these feelings while her imagination freely conjured the images at will unbeknownst to the other innocent woman; a sense of perversion almost having engrained an association of gulit with it from those times.

Now was totally different. She could do as she wished, of course per Anna's consent, or rather, the other rower's direct request, actually asking for Elsa to try and be more open with physical contact when she felt comfortable. That exact request in mind, with her utter weakness at holding back right now, gave her that boost of confidence she needed.

She stepped up behind the petite rower, cool hands sliding around the warm exposed midsection, fingers slowly stroking the bumps and filing through the smooth divots; left hand tracing the upper area, feeling the connections firmly made to the girl's ribs, while her right deftly slid past her belly-button. The sudden gasp followed by a light hum, and the relaxation of the body under her touch made her feel an overwhelming rush of pleasure. Unable to keep herself hidden behind, needing to see the redhead's undoubtedly blushing and super cute expression, she side stepped forward a little, eyes coming up over Anna's shoulder.

And she froze.

The computer wasn't on YouTube. There was no work out video on the screen. There was no internet video of any sort. Only a familiar peachy face, bright emerald eyes, staring across at her, through her, wide as saucers.

Wh-why.. why was Rapunzel on the screen?!

Her pale face flared, hot, scorching, a devastating forrest fire erupting and spreading down her entire body, turning to a painful steam while she simultaneously broke into a dousing cold sweat. And then, the biggest, most monstrous, shit-eating grin slowly stretched across the brunette's previously shocked face to the point it looked painful.

"Well this is a new development.." she smirked with a glint in her eye.

While Elsa was still left dumbfounded and staring, she barely heard Anna's bashful laugh. "Whatdaya mean?" Her voice was quivering just the slightest, proving neither woman was left unaffected by the spectating. "You know we're together."

The youngest of the group made a 'duh' vocal, lifting her two fingers and pointing through the screen between the two. "No, I mean actually seeing Elsa giving off Top energy."

Top? Like.. oh. Oh..! Oh. My God..

Unable to handle much more of the conversation, the blonde jumped back, hands flying over her heated face.

"I'm going to shower..!" she mumbled in a rush, voice nearly squeaking an Octave higher than normal, hurrying down the hallway. When she heard Anna move to take a step after her, saying her name in concern, Elsa extended her hand in a halting motion behind her. "Alone!"

She had honestly only meant to express how she didn't want to be bothered at the moment, needing time to collect herself, thoughts and way to many circulating emotions needing proper corralling, with no interruptions; Alone. But the ultimate regret of choosing that particular word, at that particular moment, in her stupid lapse of coherent judgement, instantly plowed her over like a semi-truck when she heard a shrill, static cry.

"What does she mean 'Alone'?!"

The bathroom door slamming followed by a groan of mortified defeat seemed to echo in the apartment for days to come.

#elsanna backwards #elsanna fanfiction #elsa x anna #elsanna #thank you Anon!

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marymccartneyphotos · 3 years

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Paul Weller in conversation with Mary McCartney: ‘We used to pinch a lot of Beatles songs’

For this Woking-born son of the 1970s, there were four father figures who underpinned everything, from his first guitar to an inspirational career that continues to expand and explore more than 50 years later. On the release of his latest solo record, his third in three years, we asked Paul Weller to pick through the past with an artist who knows better than any how The Beatles shaped the generation that followed. By Dylan Jones; 4 June 2021 from British GQ Magazine

(edited for Mary McCartney content only)

For Weller’s latest GQ appearance, we thought it would be good to put him together with an old friend, the photographer Mary McCartney. Which is what we did...

Mary McCartney: So, Paul, when did you become a Beatles fan? When you were 12?

Paul Weller: When I was five years old. I had some of the singles, because my mother bought them, but the first time I saw them was the Royal Variety Performance in 1963, when I was five. From the time I saw The Beatles I loved music and then when I was around age 12 I started trying to learn to play guitar. Me and my mate had a few lessons for a bit and got a few weeks in, but the guy was trying to teach us how to read music, so we got bored with that. And as soon as we learnt enough chords we stopped the lessons and we just start doing it ourselves.

MM: When did you actually start writing songs?

PW: As soon as we – me and my mate Steve Brookes – learnt the three or four chords. I’m still mates with him now. We started a band and we just learned together and we just kept swapping whatever we’d learned in the week, swapping back and forth. It was just me and him and then we just gathered up people as we could find them. There was never any doubt in my mind that’s what I would do and, even at around 12, I thought that was definitely what I was going to do for a living. Well, I didn’t know it could be a career, I just knew I was going to do music. So by the age of 14 we were playing pubs, working men’s clubs and social clubs with The Jam. But your dad’s band was the catalyst for all of it.

MM: You know, I’m directing a documentary about the history of Abbey Road Studios at the moment, so I’ve been taken back to those times. There is a photograph of me aged three months on one of the sofas in the studio, so I was there before I can remember being there. Whenever I walk in through the doors I still get a funny feeling. But I’m learning a lot about The Beatles’ recording process, though. What was your writing process in the early days?

PW: When we started to write songs we just used to pinch a lot of The Beatles songs. They were very basic, just us taking our first steps as songwriters. I was actually very passionate at the time, but I didn’t have the skills to articulate that passion. That kind of developed. Our first songs would have been nonsense songs, just “My Baby Love Me” stuff... But, like every other fledgling songwriter, I just started off by aping other people, like The Beatles did, like Dylan did. Everyone starts out copying other people.

MM: I assume you recorded your new album during lockdown?

PW: I did. I had about four or five tracks left over from [last year’s] On Sunset and they were just lying around, unused. So I started working away, chipping away, trying to put together a new batch of songs. As ever, I recorded them all in the studio down in Surrey, just me and a guitar singing along to a click track. If I couldn’t record with the band, I’d send the recordings to them and they’d play their parts and then send them back. It was a very odd process, but it worked. However, when we could finally all record again together, it was like the first day of school after the summer holidays. It was great. The writing process was actually the same as it always is, but because I knew I didn’t have any live work for the foreseeable future, we just created all this space. I think the lockdown was actually hugely influential in a way, as all the quiet made me appreciate nature in a way I hadn’t done for quite some time, maybe ever. I could really feel and hear and see nature again, it started to take over. I loved hearing the birds sing and not seeing any aeroplanes in the sky. It helped me think about things I would never normally think about in any situation. I felt more in tune with nature. I had a thought that if we weren’t here, if we all disappeared, which I’m sure we will do one day, the earth would just reclaim itself and that it will always be here and we won’t.

MM: It was such a nice feeling, actually stopping and looking and appreciating, not rushing around. I was lying in bed one night in the middle of London. It was 2am and it was so quiet it felt like we had gone back 100, 200 years. I couldn’t hear the rumble of the underground and it was almost as though cars hadn’t been invented.

PW: How was your lockdown, Mary?

MM: Mine was good, but we’re not here to talk about me. I’m grilling you today. But mine was good. Well, I say it was good, but it was unnerving. I think, on a global scale, it was just unnerving because it was like living in a science fiction movie. I think the main thing a lot of us benefitted from was having to slow down and not being able to just go and do things. So, in that sense, it wasn’t a bad thing. I was obviously worried about people’s health and the economy, but, like you, I really got in touch with nature. I did a lot more photographic work outside. And, of course, I started to prep for the Abbey Road doc. What’s the perfect recording scenario for you?

PW: Well, I love my studio and, to be honest, I’d be quite happy to never come out of the place. I could quite happily stay there forever. I bought the building in 1999, but it’s only really been the past 15 years or so that we’ve really got it together, with the sound and the vibe and the equipment. I’m continually making little acoustic adjustments to the room. We’ve got a drum kit set up all the time, as well as a mic’d piano, so it’s always ready to roll. I can play guitar, obviously, as well as bass and piano, but I’ve never really enjoyed playing the drums, because I can’t sing and drum with any conviction. It’s a different art altogether, playing drums. I like drummers who play the song, who can play the tune and who aren’t trying to do their own thing. That requires a certain amount of discipline, a different discipline: not playing too much but playing the right thing. Your dad is a good drummer.

MM: Yeah, he is. Mum introduced me to a song he played drums on years ago, called “My Dark Hour”, by the Steve Miller Band. He’s credited as “Paul Ramon” and he does backing vocals, guitar, bass and drums. It was recorded in Olympic Studios in London towards the end of 1969, after an argument Dad had had with the others over Allen Klein becoming their manager. The others had gone off and he said Steve Miller walked in and asked if he wanted to play the drums on this track he was recording. I think the drumming on it is so good, but you can tell he’s letting out a lot of tension.

PW: I love that first solo album of your dad’s, the one with you as a baby on the back. That’s probably one of my favourite records. It was lo-fi before lo-fi was even talked about.

MM: I love the rawness of it, as it’s just so personal. I still listen to McCartney and Ram a lot. They shot the album cover up in Scotland. They were horse riding and he zipped me up in his jacket. He put me in the jacket so I was safe, as he was going riding. I love that picture from a photographic point of view as well, as it’s very real. It’s taken at the end of the day, during the golden hour. It’s so natural.

PW: Now, what was it like growing up, then, as a daughter of a Beatle?

MM: Well, it was more like growing up as a daughter of Paul and Linda, because they were such a great couple. But,

also, they were such adventurous people. So, we were kind of following them around and going on lots of adventures. We went on tour with them and we really only stopped when we needed to go to school. So I have lots of memories of travelling as a girl. I even remember going on the double-decker that they used as a tour bus in 1972. The seats on the upper deck were replaced by mattresses and bean bags.

PW: I assume it was your mother’s inspiration that made you want to be a photographer...

MM: I think so, as I think I just always saw her taking pictures. She had such a casual style too. She didn’t do a lot of setting up and neither do I. It’s just so much nicer when you connect with your sitter and when you just casually take pictures. I much prefer that and I certainly know that you don’t like to have your picture taken in a very set-up kind of situation. What really got me into becoming a photographer was looking at Mum’s pictures from the 1960s. They were about her being with someone and taking pictures and very much not “This is Jimi Hendrix”. Again, casual. When I became a photographer, I took Mum’s talent for granted. She would take pictures out the car window and then they became these books or a print on the wall. When I started doing it myself I’d put the camera up and I’d be like, “Dad, can you turn the car around so I can take this picture?” And he’d be like, “No.” She would take pictures so effortlessly and I didn’t realise there was a knack to it. Mum and Dad would treat everyone equally; I do remember that. We were always surrounded by people, so I suppose that’s why I think I am a bit of a people person. I like meeting people and I like connecting with people, but I still find I’m quite shy about it. I find it stressful, but I like it. But I could never in a million years get up on a stage, ever. Even thinking about it makes me feel like fainting. When did you first walk out in front of a big crowd? How does that feel? Is it just feeling that adulation and love and appreciation and then giving that back? Does that feel really healthy? I always think when it works perfectly, it just must be such a healthy feeling.

PW: It’s almost a weird thing, because just prior to going on stage, especially in the hour before, I’m in bits. I’m so nervous and so don’t want to be there and want to go home, and then within minutes of actually being on stage, as soon as that first tune strikes up, I automatically feel as though this is completely where I’m supposed to be. It feels like the most natural, most comfortable, Zen-like place you could possibly be, it’s so weird. I’ve always felt nervous before going on stage. That’s never changed. I mean, it’s got a little bit better as I’ve got older, but not much. I think I need to have that feeling. It was weird, because there was a time when I tried to stop drinking – before I stopped completely – and when I stopped I suddenly wasn’t nervous before going on stage. And I didn’t like it. It felt really odd.

MM: Isn’t there something superstitious about this?

PW: No, I don’t think so. I just think it gives you an edge. Those nerves can make you edgy and I think that’s important for me.

MM: And then did the nerves come back?

PW: When I started drinking again they did.

MM: But now you’re not?

PW: When I finally stopped drinking it took me at least two years to get used to that feeling of going on stage totally sober and straight. And now I love it. But it took a good two years to get comfortable, as it was really odd at first. I’d be on stage and I’d notice so much, like there’s a guy in the front row who’s wearing a green shirt or something, and now I don’t feel that at all. Now it feels natural and I have a greater appreciation of it. That’s the other thing as well, getting more from it and being more conscious of what we’re doing.

MM: Growing up, watching Mum and Dad on stage just felt natural. But I’ve seen you play a few times and it makes me realise how much I couldn’t do it myself. There is such great energy and it’s really entertaining and you look completely natural, but I wouldn’t be able to feel comfortable in that position. Also, to me, it feels like your music has to be played live. I went to a concert before lockdown and the person was so vacant and not connected to the audience and, because of that, it made me nervous. You could tell they were going through the motions, that it was an act. They had no connection at all. Whereas when I look at Dad on stage he’s all about connection. I think I had taken it for granted before that, but when you see someone who doesn’t connect, you realise how important it is.

PW: I know some people who turn up just before they go on stage and as soon as they finish they get in the car and they’re off. I don’t understand that either. It’s a far bigger thing than that for me, because I’m looking for that connection. As much as the audience might be, I am as well, and my band too, because I’ve seen it happen with my own eyes and there are some nights where you get so connected together by an audience that this thing just grows and grows. It transcends the moment.

MM: It’s like magic.

PW: It’s something special. The last time I played at the Fillmore in San Francisco, a couple of years ago, it was like that, and it wasn’t because of gear. It was almost like we took off, like the whole room just lifted up.

MM: Have you got a ritual for after the show?

PW: No, not really. No.

MM: My dad has this sandwich and a Margarita, because he doesn’t eat before he goes on. He waits until after.

PW: I have a cup of tea these days. In the past, I would have got off my nut, but I don’t any more. But if you have a gig like that and that becomes your benchmark, you’re always looking to get back to that moment, which is not always possible. But that becomes the thing you’re always searching for, to find that connection. We’re always striving for the spectacular. It’s the same with record companies. Sometimes you have to compromise, but what you really want to do is pursue your own passions. It was more difficult when we first started, because the record company tried to step in more and tried to guide us to do this or that. In the early days of The Jam they even suggested we cover a 10cc song. We said, “No fucking way is that going to happen.” You’ve got to stick to your guns. You’ve got to pursue what you set out to achieve.

MM: Fashion and clothes feel important to what you do, maybe because they make you feel a certain way to be able to perform?

PW: Yeah. But although I was too young to be really involved in the 1960s, I still lived through that time and that whole thing has never gone away for me. I love that period and it informs a lot of what I do, including how I dress. The whole look and sound of that time is just really formative. I don’t feel I’m stuck in that time, but it will always be the cornerstone of everything I do. I just thought it was such a brilliant time for music and fashion and art and all that stuff.

MM: What do you think it is about it? Is it experimentation?

PW: I think so. It was those postwar years, coming out of all that austerity, that bleak black and white, grey world – large parts of the country were still like that in the early 1960s. There were still bombsites. There was still slum housing. So it took a long time for Britain to become modern, but when it did, it was explosive.

MM: Dad describes it as it all suddenly going technicolour.

PW: Yeah, I think that’s true and you just see the clothes and music expanding. Men stopped wearing demob suits and started wearing all these bright-coloured clothes.

MM: And the pill came about and made life a lot easier.

PW: Then the other pills came a little bit later and helped expand everyone’s horizons. These people were pioneers. And also look at the art world – Peter Blake, David Hockney, Bridget Riley. It felt as though everything was becoming more modern and opening up and becoming different and colourful. I was only a very tender age, but, nevertheless, that influence was of great importance and value and always has been. Punk was probably the first time I experienced that freedom. We missed out on the 1960s, had a lift with Bowie, but after that it was largely a cultural wasteland. I was always looking for when I thought it was going to be our term. The 1970s were still very much in the shadow of the 1960s until punk. And then it all blossomed. Then it all started to make sense.

Fat Pop (Volume 1) by Paul Weller is out now.

Producer: Grace Guppy. First assistant: Pedro Faria. Digital technician: Alexander Brunacci. Make-up: Jane Bradley. Retouching: The Hand Of God

#musician #mary mccartney #interview #paul weller #photographer #paul mccartney #Linda McCartney

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

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An Attempt At Normalcy

They wanted a bit of normalcy. Well, Stephen was trying to get the kids to have some semblance of normalcy so instead of eating at home with either takeout or a home cooked meal...they went out. Of course considering they were a large family of nine, they needed a large table to be accommodated and something in the back and a little private since Tony was there. Even after all these years, the paparazzi couldn't get enough of him and the family.

All of the kids were sitting and looking at their menus sans Valerie who was coloring on the paper kids menu she and Diana had been given. Diana was at the age where she could read now, and quite well so she was also trying to decide what she wanted for lunch. The place was a family establishment so it wasn't fancy and wouldn't make things extremely difficult for the kids to find, but still Stephen stared at the extra kids menu with a look like he was trying to set it ablaze with his eyes.

Tony looks up from wiping the drool off Lucy's mouth and ignores the infant as she slams her hands on the table and babble nonsense. "Honey, it's going to burst into flames if you keep looking at it like that." He chuckles.

"I'm just double checking to make sure there isn't any mango in any of the food or juice Valerie may want." Stephen sighs as he sets the menu down to pick up his own.

"Duchess, mango is hardly served at places like this. Just get her the chicken fingers with fries and a glass of milk. She'll be happy."

Stephen grunts. "Worry about your own leech."

Tony grins and tightens his hold around Lucy where she's comfortably placed on one of his legs. She had found her father's silverware and was currently slobbering all over the spoon since Tony had moved the knife and fork out of her reach and was even a little offended when he tried offering her one of her toys in place of the spoon. The glare she gave him was definitely inherited from her mother and Tony vocally said so since Stephen had been in the room the first time it happened.

The doctor was considerably less salty about her clinginess to Tony when the glare came out. All over a bottle that Tony took away too fast. He learned his lesson and let Lucy keep her bottles until she let go or she was just sucking on air. Tony endured the angry glares when it came to empty bottles.

"She has her spoon. She's happy." Tony shrugs.

"I really wish she'd play with one of her toys instead." Stephen sighs and puts his menu back down after deciding on his lunch.

"I tried. You saw the glare."

"If you keep letting her have her way, she's going to grow up a spoiled brat."

Tony rolls his eyes. "It's a spoon not a credit card."

Stephen huffs but a smile does finally grace his features as the waitress comes over with her own smile. She was a nice younger girl trying to pay her way through college and even though their trips to the restaurant were rare, they always asked specifically for her. Tony always left an enormous tip.

"Who's this cutie?" She coos at Lucy who looks up at her and babbles and drools around her spoon.

"This is the Baroness. Her name is Lucy." Tony says. "How are classes going Olivia?"

"Great! So what are we all having today?" Olivia asks.

Lunch was ordered and brought out in good time and they ate happily as they all conversed about one thing or another. Harley and Peter were talking about another possible project to work on in the lab, the twins eventually joined in on the conversation, and Diana was telling Stephen about the cookies she made with Cassie. The sorcerer listened intently as he wiped off the ranch dressing smeared across Valerie's face, and Tony alternated between feeding Lucy and feeding himself. It was about halfway through their meal when another family walked nearby to be seated but stopped and looked at them.

"So this is where you ran off to. You got Tony Stark's pity." The woman sneers and both William and Thomas freeze.

The rest of the family stop eating collectively and look up at the family that William was actively avoiding eye contact with. Thomas was glaring and Stephen...well Tony managed to catch the glint of gold that flashed in his eyes. Mama Dragon was clawing his way to the surface and Tony had to stop it. He really didn't want to pay for damages.

Tony stands with Lucy in his arms and glares at the couple and their four children. Foster kids? Actual kids? He wasn't sure at the moment but didn't care. No one disrespected his children, especially in front of him.

"Excuse you?" Tony glowers angrily. "Who are you to come in here and verbally attack my kids while we're trying to enjoy a family meal?" He snaps.

"They were more trouble than they were wor--" The lady starts.

It was then that Lucy threw her spoon, with deadly accuracy, at the woman's forehead. Tony's lip very minutely quirked up humorously but he managed to keep himself under control. Maybe it was the woman's tone that angered the baby but she was babbling angrily at her and the woman had looked both appalled and infuriated. When the man opened his mouth to say something, Tony held up a finger.

"Ah! No. You and your family go sit down and eat. I don't want to hear another word about Thomas and William or the rest of my family or I will sue you of everything." Tony threatens.

"They are not a burden." Stephen finally says. "Thomas and William are amazing kids and you among the rest of their previous homes restricted them. I'm sure you only cared for the money."

"And you don't?" The man says and Tony scoffs.

"I'm a billionaire. What the state pays you is pennies to me. I told them not to bother and they're officially ours anyway."

The woman smartly keeps her mouth shut and walks away with her family with a huff and to Tony's surprise, a couple of the kids looked at him and the twins apologetically. Tony was starting to wonder again if they were foster kids. He stamped the thought down quickly though because if he gave off the slightest hint that he might want to save those kids, Stephen would hop on the train. Not even they could save all the orphans and foster kids of New York and Tony was a little afraid that Stephen would try.

Lucy babbles angrily at the retreating family as Tony sits back down and the twins finally relax and go back to enjoying their food.

"That's my good girl." Tony grins and smooches a chubby cheek multiple times, making the baby laugh.

Stephen looks over at Thomas and William. "I shouldn't condone running away from home but I'm glad you did. I don't know what they did but you're safe with us." He pauses and frowns a bit. "You feel safe don't you? Despite the circumstances."

William looks over and nods. "We... we've never called any of our foster parents Mom and Dad."

"At least not willingly." Thomas mumbles.

Tony grunts and ruffles Thomas's hair, and they finish their food just as Olivia comes over to bring the check. He pays it and pulls out some cash for her tip and the waitress takes it with a grateful smile and a thanks before walking away to take care of the check. The family gets up and starts filing out of the restaurant and Tony follows once he gets his card from Olivia. Lucy babbles to the waitress as Tony leaves and meets Stephen and the kids outside.

"Daddy, can we go get ice cream?" Diana asks as Stephen hands Lucy a teething ring.

"I think we can do ice cream." Tony nods.

"Last one there--" Thomas starts and turns to dash away until Stephen grabs the back of his shirt.

"No running!" He says and Thomas huffs.

"Aww...no fun."

The ice cream parlor was a short walk away so the family decided to hoof it instead of driving, that way they could take the girls to the park. Valerie was carried by Stephen, and Harley gave Diana a piggy-back ride all the way to the parlor and even the park before he let her down. They all ate their ice cream before spreading out in different directions, and Stephen discreetly got a frisbee through a small portal for Harley and Thomas to use. Diana pulled Peter over to the monkey bars and Valerie quietly asked if William would take her to play on the swings which he of course agreed to, leaving Tony and Stephen on a bench with Lucy.

A blanket and a few of the baby's toys were also retrieved through the portal and Tony handed Lucy to Stephen so he could lay out the blanket for them to lay on. Lucy was content to chew on her teething ring until the blanket was spread and then the couple laid on it themselves after placing her between them with her toys.

"It took a lot of willpower not to laugh when she threw that spoon at that woman." Stephen finally says after a few minutes of calm.

Tony bursts into laughter. "Diana did it too but unfortunately I was the target." He sobers a bit at the memory. "It happened after…" he trails off and sighs, causing Stephen to sit up and look at him.

"Tony... we're home. Yes, I missed those memories and milestones but I got a second chance with Valerie." Stephen smiles. "Now we have Lucy and you've robbed me of her attention and I'm here."

Tony snorts. "Hey, I had nothing to do with that. Maybe your book decided I needed my own leech...the princess was Cassie's from the moment we left the compound."

"I don't think she minds. It might have helped her too to be honest. If it was just you and her--" Stephen starts.

"Cassie would have had no one to talk to. I...wasn't in the greatest state of mind for a while. She was heaven sent." Tony admits.

"It all worked out." Stephen says softly and grunts when Lucy chucks her teething ring at his forehead. "She is definitely your child."

Tony snickers and sits up to look at the rest of the kids before looking back at Stephen.

"Think there's a chance Harley has something to do with it?"

"I wouldn't put it past him." Stephen answers as he picks up the ring and gives it back to Lucy after checking it for dirt.

"He's looking at William again." Tony states with a smirk when he looks back over at their oldest.

He had just thrown the frisbee over to Thomas and his attention was directed to their youngest son who was pushing Valerie on the swing. Tony didn't miss the faint smile on Harley's face before the frisbee hit it and chuckles when he groans and holds a hand over his face.

"I really wish he would say something." Stephen sighs. "The pining is getting to Scott and Quill's level and I don't think I can go through that again."

"Ah, give it another month."

"It's been two years Tony."

"Then it's way past Porcupine and Thumbelina's level." Tony grins. "It only took them a few months.

"Thank the Vishanti for that."

"Mom! My nose is bleeding!" Harley says as he walks over with his hand over his nose. "Do you have a tissue?"

Stephen fishes a packet of tissues out of his pocket and holds them up to Harley. "Maybe pay attention next time." He smirks.

The blush that creeped onto Harley's face was well worth the tease.

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #supremefamily #mama bear stephen strange #mama bear au

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mf-despair-queen · 5 years

Text

Never Give Up - Lee Taeyong

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader

Word Count: 20,984

Summary: When Y/N joins SM Entertainment as a trainee, she didn’t think she would make it. Nor did she think Lee Taeyong from NCT would be assisting in training her class. But most of all, she didn’t think that he would step up to help her achieve her dream.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Oral, Shower Stuff, kinda sweet stuff all around because Taeyong is just a caring baby?

Notes: Only like... 3 months in the making. But I hold this fic very close to my heart because Taeyong’s story of becoming an idol is very precious to me. And just as an overall person, he’s very inspiring to me. I wanted to represent that side of him, not giving up when you have a dream and a goal, to be the best you can be and not let anything bring you down.

Happy chatter filled the room, the voices echoing off the walls and mirrors located all around. Each small group stretched together, joyously preparing for the first day as a trainee. Some showed off their moves at each other while others just kept a pleasant conversation to pass the time.

And here you were, sat alone in the corner. Our fingers tapped anxiously while reaching for your foot extended in front of you, feeling the muscles in your back stretching out and loosening. Sweat was leaking from your pores, keeping your skin moist and uncomfortable despite the lack of dancing you had actually done.

When the door opened, everyone instantly stood at attention, including yourself whom scrambled up to stand at attention. Lines had formed, each trainee stood one by one as the instructor waltzed in, eyes glowering slightly as he scanned the crowd.

“Good morning, sir,” the trainee group said in unison with a bow, the teacher nodding in approval.

“Good morning,” he said, voice slightly gruff and deep, throwing you off for a moment. The instructor placed his stuff aside - a notebook and pen combo, water bottle, and towel - before turning to face everyone. “My name is Kim Jihun and I will be your dancer teacher. And may I start by saying congratulations on being admitted to be a trainee of SM Entertainment.”

The girls around you clapped happily, smiles on their faces. Your hands were slow to come together, your nerves on edge. His words seemed to haunt you, sending a shiver up your spine. You were questioning why you even showed up to the audition in the first place. You weren’t expecting to get through when they approached you on the street, telling you that they were looking for potential recruits.

You weren’t anything special in your mind. Sure, you loved to dance and sing in your free time, but compared to the people around you, you were miniscule. You wanted nothing more than to shrink into the background and disappear, running from the room and never returning.

“Let me warn you that this will not be an easy course,” his words filled the room, making you snap back to attention. Jihun walked back and forth in front of the group, speaking slowly and intently. “SM Entertainment has very high standards for its artists and you are expected to work hard to achieve that. Fail, and you be let go. Succeed, and you will be trained until you are ready to debut.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes falling to the ground before you. You toe dug into the shiny hardwood floor, afraid to look up. You knew that the look in the mirror would show just how stressed you were while everyone else looked determined to do well. Your hands rung around the bottom of your shirt, wrinkling the loose material in the tight grip. Your fingers twisted around the material, disappearing into the white fabric.

“But, don’t let that discourage you. Everyone here is at a different level, but you can’t let your inexperience stop you. I’ve had trainees in the past that have come in and I thought they would amount to nothing. I figured they would not make it to be an idol. But I was wrong. Through hard work and determination, he was able to overcome those challenges and become the leader dancer of her group. He is the epitome of the term “never give up on your dreams” and I want you all to remember that.

“I want you to remember that because he will be training you as well for the next few months. His group is on hiatus for the time being after having finished their recent promotions and he expressed an interest in helping train for once. So, don’t think he needs any further introduction. Please welcome Lee Taeyong from NCT.”

Your heart stopped when you watched him open the door carefully, a nervous smile on his gorgeous face. It made his soft cheeks uplift, contrasting against his sharp jaw. He uttered over a dozen hellos as he entered, bowing continuously in his normal polite manner, hands clasped together in front of him with every bend of his back and step of his feet. Each bow made his bright blue hair bounce around, falling to rest against his forehead when he stood straight. His brown eyes twinkled in the lights of the practice room, the glimmer they shone making your heart race. His large hands rubbed together as he took his place next to your instructor, trailing his eyes over the crowd. It felt like his eyes lingered longer on you, his smile curling further. The male idol was wearing a simple pair of black skinny jeans and a loose white shirt that said “Rare”, black shoes adorning his feet.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to believe that Lee Taeyong was standing in front of you. You had watched the man grow and succeed since his days as an SM Rookie, He was one of the reasons you enjoyed dance as much as you did. Seeing the way he moved, the joy it brought - you couldn’t help but move yourself. You aspired to be as good as him, sadly accepting that you never would be. He was a god among men, and you could only wish that you could be on his level one day.

Now, he stood before you in the flesh, ready to help you learn and improve. If you weren’t nervous before, you would be now. Too bad you were already sweating bullets before he walked in. Your face felt hot and you were ready to pass out. From across the room, you could feel his presence. HIs aura was intimidating, even though the face he gave the crowd was soft and he bounced between his feet anxiously. His hands rung together, picking at his nails slightly, but he stood proud.

“Hello,” he greeted officially. Your heart thundered heavily at the sound of his sultry voice. It was deep and smooth, a husky undertone that you were familiar with from his fabulous rapping skills. His infectious smile made you crack a small one of your own, feeling your cheeks light up with a bright burn.

“My name is Lee Taeyong, leader of NCT. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He finished his greeting with a bow, you and the others following his gesture. When he stood up, he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead while speaking. “I’m really looking forward to helping train you guys for a while. I remember my days as a trainee and how nerve wracking it can be, so I hope that I can help you guys grow and improve like I was able to.”

“I will leave this to you, Taeyong,” Jihun told the idol leader, who nodded in return. Jihun took a seat in a chair to the side, his notepad and pen in hand. His dark eyes stared daggers through the room, ready to assess your first day.

Taeyong made his way to the front of the room, everyone turning to face the mirrors and rearranging themselves to a more comfortable location to begin the lesson. You slid to the back of the group, hiding yourself from the mirror as much as possible in the small group of people. Taeyong slid a black headband on his head to keep his hair back, turning to stare at himself - and your group behind him - in the mirrors.

“Alright. We’ll begin by teaching you the moves to this choreography that I helped to create. It was something I dabbled in when we did the song So Am I with Ava Max, so I hope you all like it. We will start off slow and practice each section a few times, but it’ll be pretty quick to learn the entire piece. By the end of today, I want to test run this dance with the music.”

You dry swallowed, shaking slightly. It was time…

He wasn’t kidding when he said the learning curve was steep. The speed that you were intended to learn the choreography was fast paced, even with Taeyong’s slow and methodical teaching style. He showed each step multiple times, explaining thoroughly what he was doing and how your body should be moving with the movement. He allowed ample time for you to practice the movements before moving onto the next move, He would even sing his own rap part when he picked up the pace to show the entire section as it should be performed, your eyes wide in awe. Taeyong made the dance look simple.

The steps themselves weren’t hard in reality, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you were doing it right. As pieces started to get linked together, more of the choreography coming together, you couldn’t help yourself from turning your eyes to those around you, trying to pick up on how they moved, imitating their postures and strides. The more parts that got added amplified the difficulty, aiding in your downfall, your progress slowing, stopping and receding.

You were struggling to follow the full dance, resorting to following those around you in an attempt to complete the dance. You felt weak compared to them, lacking power and precision, your steps sloppy and uncoordinated. You were off beat, arms swinging slowly, body rolling with less exuberance than the other trainees. You were crying internally from the difficulty and underwhelming results.

Taeyong stopped everyone for a water break, readying the music. “One last run before we end for today. I know it’s been rough for the first day, but this dance course is no easy feat. We will do one run of the choreo with the music then you guys are free to head to your vocal class.”

A resounding grunt of acceptance was heard, but all you could do was puff out a sigh. You prayed that you could mimic those around you enough to get through the dance, all while hoping Taeyong’s eyes didn’t find you in the back of the crowd. When the music started, you struggled, just as you thought you would. Your eyes followed everyone else, a beat behind just like during the practice runs. You struggled your way through the dance, wishing with each passing second that it would be over.

Taeyong’s dutiful eyes, a deep, chocolate color, scanned the crowd unknowing to the trainees as he danced, taking in every incorrect step, bent leg during a kick, and lackluster sway of the hips. But, amongst all the trainees, he couldn’t stop his eyes from being drawn to you shielded in the back of the crowd. He pouted slightly to himself, fixated on the slow movements and turned head, pausing to get the steps of your colleagues.

His heart ached for you.

Taeyong uttered a thank you to the group once the song was over, everyone bowing before parting their ways to collect their belongings. Taeyong strode away to Jihun, the two muttering softly together, the dance instructor jotting things down as Taeyong talked. You let out a sigh, knowing that you had been caught red handed by the instructor. Soon, Taeyong would know as well. You were disheartened to know that you had failed your role model at his own choreography. Your feet, aching and sore, moved towards your bag, missing how Taeyong glanced your way, Jihun’s eyes following.

You collapsed to the ground, ignoring everyone around you grabbing their stuff and making their way to the door, the room growing quieter by the second. You pulled out your phone, frowning at the text you had received from your mother asking about how your first day went. She had always supported you, encouraging you to pursue this unrealistic dream - that was quickly transforming into a nightmare instead. You didn’t know how to tell her it didn’t go well.

Yeah, the first day was horrible. That’s just what she’d want to hear.

“Excuse me,” you heard beside you. Your head whipped to the familiar, deeply pleasant voice of Lee Taeyong. The idol had removed his headband from his blue hair, allowing beads of sweat to drip along his facial features, running along his jawline. His dark eyes bore into your soul, his sweet smile making butterflies rage at you. “Sorry to disturb you. Your name is Y/N, correct?”

You blinked, unsure how he knew who you were. “Yeah…?” You placed your phone down, standing slowly. Your feet were yelling at you for doing so, but it didn’t feel right to sit while talking to him. You bowed at the young man, though he waved at you in dismissal.

“No need for that. It’s fine,” he chuckled happily. “I just… want to talk to you really quick. If you have a moment.”

Your brow furrowed, opening your mouth to find no words escaping. Your throat felt dry, swallowing once before managing to get something said. “I mean… I have to get to my vocal training…”

“I will walk you there and explain the situation,” he offered.

“A-alright,” you weakly muttered.

Taeyong gave a sad smile, licking his lips before speaking. “I just… I couldn’t help but notice you during the training.” Your heart plummeted. “You looked like you were really struggling.”

“I-I…” you started, fighting back tears. “I was, I guess…”

“No need to be sad!” he exclaimed quickly, biting at his lower lip. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“You wanted to talk to me because I suck horribly?” You uttered sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the man.

“Kind of, I guess,” he teased. You pouted. “I wanted to make you an offer actually.”

“Offer?”

“Yeah,” he cooed softly. His hand ran through his hair, cheeks puffing with a burst of air before continuing. “I wanted to see if you’d like some extra lessons. You know, with me?”

“What?” you asked without hesitation. Taeyong laughed, shaking his head.

“I wanted to give you some extra dance lessons, just the two of us. That way we can focus on what you need more than the others. That way we can get you on a higher level than you are at now.”

You blinked at him, turning away slightly, avoiding his sharp gaze. “Why would you want to do that?” you whispered lowly.

“Because,” Taeyong spoke calmly. You turned to look back at him when he didn’t continue. His face was serious, but he smiled at you, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His foot kicked the wood floor aimlessly, digging the toe of his shoe into it. “I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. I know what it’s like to struggle and feel like you aren’t good enough. I know how it feels to think you aren’t cut out for this.

“I was called a blank sheet when I was a trainee and I felt insulted. I felt like I was being told that I wasn’t good enough and I wouldn’t amount to anything. But I overcame that because I realized that as much of a blank sheet as I am, I could draw my own path on it. And I want you to be able to do the same. I was in the same boat as you once, standing at the back of the crowd, following everyone else. Now, I can stand on my own two feet. I want to help you do the same.”

You contemplated his words, never straying your eyes from him. Silence enveloped the room, apart from the steady breaths of the pair of you. Finally, you spoke up. “But why do you want to try so hard with me?”

Taeyong grinned, freeing a hand to ruffle his hair. “Because I can see the fire and desire in your eyes. This is what you love to do, and I want to make sure that you can enjoy every bit of it. I’m not going to give up on you because I want to see you overcome this and make it big one day.” He let out a heavy breath, licking his lips. “So, what do you say? You up for some extra dance practices?”

After a moment of hesitation, you nodded slowly. Taeyong’s face lit up, grinning widely. “Alright. I’d like the extra training if you’re willing to help. I… I don’t want to give up.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you,” he laughed. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, handing it to you. “Go ahead and put your number in. We can set up a secondary schedule around your vocal and dance practices. And we can use this room as our go to. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” you told him, taking his phone and typing in the number. When you handed it back, contact name complete with a smiley face, your fingers brushed, making your skin tingle. Your cheeks lit up, backing away slightly to grab your stuff. “I appreciate the help, Taeyong. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Same here,” he grinned, leading you to the door after you gathered your belongings. “You’re going to do great, Y/N I just know it.”

“Ugh!” you huffed in exasperation. Killing the music on your phone, your hand a sweaty hand through your hair, pushing the loose strands away from your forehead in anger. You had stumbled again, much to your dismay. Despite the extra practice you were getting, and the additional coaching you had been gifted, you were still struggling, grasping everything too slow for your liking.

Training for Taeyong outside of the normal practice had been a blessing. You found yourself doing better, learning the dances more and more each time, but you still had difficulties during the classes themselves, finding yourself still following the others to move your feet and hands to the beat. You continued to stay to the back, even though Taeyong encouraged you to step forward more and show the skills he believed you had.

Speaking of Taeyong - you never realized just how caring the man was until you agreed to this ordeal. You found yourself getting daily text from him after having exchanged numbers to discuss your additional practice regimen, the older male never failing to give words of encouragement amongst his own busy schedule. The texts came without fail before every dance and vocal lesson that he wasn’t there for, using silly emojis, dancing gifs and memes he found online to keep your low spirits elevated as much as possible.

That was just one aspect of the sweet man. Once your private lessons began, you learned how patient he was with you. Seeing your struggles, he slowed down his own movements, taking more time to show you what to do and how to do it. He pointed out every detail you would need to know for the dance before stumbling over his own feet, ears turning red.

“I meant to do that,” he would claim, earning a laugh from you. Hear your laugh just made him smile.

Taeyong over the few weeks you had been a trainee, under his tender loving care as a mentor, became a close friend that you could confide in, no matter the time of day. During water breaks, you would find yourself talking about everything and nothing with the idol, both of you sharing every little fact you could with each other. At this point, it felt like Taeyong knew you better than you knew yourself, and vice versa. You learned many things about the humble young man, your heart thumping harder every day for him. Your adoration for him had grown the more you learned about him, every day getting better.

Until now.

Letting out a deep breath, you restarted the music, turning to face the mirror. As the beat began, your foot slid across the floor, toes pointed, and leg extended outward. Your arms raised, beginning to sway to the beat just as you had learned not even an hour before in your class. Your hips rounded, turning in circles to the thumping music. Your eyes closed to concentrate on what you were doing, counting the steps as you moved.

Your body stumbled when the chorus hit, feet tangling around each other when you went to take a step. You let out a loud grunt, feet stomping in annoyance. “Why can’t I get this right?” you exclaimed to no one in particular, venting the pent-up frustration you felt.

“You’re overthinking it.”

The words caught you off guard, your body whipping around to face the door, only stumbling to the side in the progress. Taeyong chuckled, pulling off the white hat he had on his head, placing the plastic bag in his hand against the wall. You pouted at his laughter, trudging over to pause the music. The idol ruffled his blue hair, taking a seat against the wall. Wordlessly, you joined at his side, taking the iced coffee he offered to you.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you scowled at him playfully. Taeyong smiled at your words.

“I’m not wrong though,” he stated firmly. “Also, sorry for startling you. That wasn’t my intention. And I’m sorry I was running late. I was finishing recording a new song.”

“I know. I got your text,” you teased. Taeyong made a sour face, sticking his tongue out.

“And here I was nice and brought dinner because I was running late.”

“Depends what you brought,” you told him. Taeyong moved the bag in front of you, pulling out a platter of japchae, gimbap and mandu. You watched him eagerly open the japchae, snapping his chopsticks apart so he could take a mouthful of food. “How do you stay so skinny when you love food so much? Especially sweets. I’ve seen you eat nearly a dozen cupcakes before and you lost weight. I don’t get it.”

“Dancer metabolism,” he joked.

“Don’t be mean,” you huffed, biting into a warm dumpling. “So, what did you mean?”

“Hm?” he hummed, tilting his head cutely. You shook off the adorable face, shoving his shoulder with yours instead.

“You know,” you scolded. “When you walked in, you said that I was overthinking it. What did you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” he pointed out. “You’ve gotten better, but I can see how you are still struggling. And I think you are trying too hard to do well at it now. Because you are so worried about doing well, worried about learning to choreography fast enough, and worried about not messing up, you’re pushing yourself too much. When you stress, you are bound to make more mistakes. When you worry, you’re more prone to mistakes. I would know. I did it a lot when I was a trainee.”

“Oh.”

Taeyong gave a small, lopsided smile. “Hey, it’s not a bad thing. It’s understandable and kind of to be expected. The stress that being a trainee for SM is insane sometimes and when you don’t believe you are doing enough, it hurts a bit.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m scared of the first evaluation next week.”

“Don’t be. Just do your best. That’s all you can do. Practice and do what you can. You can’t let yourself get down about this because you need to make your own path with this.”

“This coming from a blank slate?” you teased.

Taeyong chuckled, nodding vigorously. “Absolutely. I was hard on myself all the time, YN,” he said, turning to look at you better. “I didn’t think I’d make it. But I never gave up because I love what I do. I love to dance. I love to rap. I love to sing. And even though I felt insulted, I turned that around. I decided that I would write my own story. And, I know you have that same drive.”

“How do you know?” you asked after a moment of hesitation, pulling your eyes away from the bowls in front of you to look into the dark eyes of the young man beside you. His lips upturned, showing his glistening white teeth.

“Because I can see how much you love to dance. I can see how much joy it brings. I can see the passion you have for it. And I want to see you succeed,” he told you. Learning back on his hands, Taeyong stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “Honestly, I can see how good you are too. Even though you take a bit to learn the moves, I can see how strong your movements really are. You follow others for the steps, but when you have them, you are the best at them. And, if you ask me, you stand out the most among the trainees.”

“Really?” you asked, shocked.

“Of course,” he chuckled. “If I’m being honest right now, you were the first one to draw my eye on day one. Not because you weren’t doing well. There is just something about you like I enjoy watching. And when you can get the dances, it’s even better. I can’t pull my eyes away because you have this… I guess you can call it beauty, to you that just makes me smile. I love watching you dance and enjoy yourself. And I can’t wait for others to see what I see.”

Your face burned with the blush that rose to your cheeks, curling your hands in your lap. “Thanks, Taeyong. That means a lot to me.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m only stating the truth,” he mused happily. Rising to his feet, his hand extended towards you. “Now, shall we get started so we can show the world one day what Y/N is capable of?”

“I guess,” you huffed, playfully reluctant. Your hand fit perfectly in his, allowing Taeyong to pull you to your feet.

“No one overthinking your steps, right?”

“No guarantees.”

Taeyong pouted, moving over to your phone. He didn’t even have to ask, unlocking it with ease. “Fine. Be that way.” The music started, a smirk forming on his face as he leaned against the wall. “Show me what you got. Come on.”

Letting out a breath, you turned to start the dance, beginning strong. As the music progressed, your movements wavered, unsure if they were correct or not. Taeyong followed your form silently, not interrupting you as you went. You managed to complete the dance, not perfect by any means. The music trailed off, the final notes fading through the speakers. Your chest heaved with uneven breaths, turning to the idol for the judgement call.

“Not bad,” he called, taking slow steps forward. “Definitely better than you’ve done before. You’re getting a lot better, Y/N.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

Taeyong chuckled, shaking his head. “Stop doubting yourself. You’re an amazing dancer, Y/N.”

“I guess…”

“You’re impossible,” he laughed. “Do me a favor. Show me beginning from verse two.”

With a confused look on your face, you did as he requested. Your foot and arm extended to the right, ready to bring your other arm around as you stepped. But Taeyong told you to stop, making your body freeze, tightening to hold the pose. He stepped closer to you, standing behind you. You could see him through the mirror, his gaze reflecting back on you.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly.

Your already tense body from the stress and anxiety of training tightened more, your breathing shortening. His fingers danced their way up your arm, ghosting along your skin lightly, tickling you in the process, before taking your wrist in his hand, raising it slightly.

“Your stance is off,” he spoke lowly, words somewhat raspier than normal. “Your arm should be a bit higher here. And your leg should extend a bit more.” His foot nudged yours out, making you slide against the wood flooring. Luckily, his free hand was on your waist to keep you steady, his fingers pressed into bare skin from where your tank top had ridden up.

You turned to look up at him, Taeyong glancing down at you. His hot breath could be felt against your skin, making you blush more. Slowly he dropped his hand, letting you hold the stiff position while he examined you. Slowly, he got you to start dancing again, following your movements on his own directly behind you. His movements were more fluid and cleaner than yours, but the entire time, Taeyong helped to guide you, never once hesitating in what he was doing.

When you stopped, you turned to look at him, watching the young man silently run his fingers through the sky lit locks on his head, fluffing the strands inadvertently. “What are you thinking?” you voiced, watching him ponder. Taeyong tilted his head back and forth, cracking his neck as he did before speaking up.

“I think I know the issue.”

You snorted out a laugh. “Oh really? We’ve been are this for a few weeks now and you just now know what the issue is?”

“Yup,” he laughed, stepping behind you again. His hands found their place on your shoulders, turning you to the mirror. “You, my dear, are too tense.”

“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed. “I’m a bit stressed.”

“I don’t think it’s just that,” he said. “I think you are working too hard. I think you just need to relax a bit and just let go. Enjoy the music a bit more.”

“Enjoy the music?” you asked.

Taeyong nodded, moving over to connect his phone to the speaker. He flicked through his music playlist a bit before turning on some soothing, but fun, music, bouncing on the balls of his feet to the sound.

“Honestly, I find myself dancing the best when I can just relax and enjoy the music. I like to be able to feel the music and just move to it freely. It’s very calming and just helps me loosen up. But I think it helps me connect better to what I’m doing.” Taeyong started swaying to the music, beginning to freestyle to the song he put on. You watched in awe at his motions, the man smiling the entire time. “You should try it too, Y/N. Just freely dance and let yourself go to the music.”

“I don’t know…”

Taeyong huffed, not accepting your answer. His feet moved quickly, long strides drawing him closer to you. His hands took yours, pulling you closer to him, still within arm’s reach. “Come on. Just let yourself feel the music. Just have fun!”

He started swaying back and forth, your arms swinging with the motions. He made your body wiggle with his, neither of your actually dancing to the beat of the song. But, deep inside, it felt right just to do the silly dance with him, enjoying the music around you. There was not a care in the world for the next few minutes as your danced in crazy circles, arms waving in different directs, your body loosening up with the fun.

Taeyong smiled down at you, tugging you closer until you were crashed against his body, hugging you closer. Your bodies moved from side to side in no real pattern, losing yourself to the soft music.

“Ok, but, that worked,” you said, words muffled by his chest. It rose and fell with his laughter, making you giggle.

“I told you,” he teased. His arms never left your form, keeping you close to him. The music continued to play around you, smooth tunes filling the room that you natural moved to. “It’s calming. And it’s best to just feel the music inside you. When you can connect to it, you will be at your best. And your shoulders are significantly let tense. I can feel the knots you had before are almost gone already.”

“The power of music.”

“The power of dance.”

You glanced up at him, his gaze on you. His tongue poked out between his lips, licking them slowly. You followed the trail of the pink article tracing the plump, cupid shaped lips, biting at your own lip. The music seemed to get drowned out, everything disappearing around you.

“What’s going on in here?”

Your body separated quicker than lightning, pushing away from Taeyong instantly at the sound of the voice. You let out a low shriek, hand on your chest, stumbling into a wall to catch your breath. Taeyong just laughed, pausing his music.

When you glanced at the door, your eyes widened, seeing Lee Donghae and his wife in the doorway. You bowed at the senior idol, the male returning the gesture. Taeyong spoke up as he moved to your side.

“We were just dancing, hyung,” Taeyong told him. Donghae’s brow rose, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Oh?”

“Ya!” Taeyong whined at the older idol. “We were! I’m helping her train! We weren’t doing anything besides dancing and enjoying the music! Right, Y/N?”

“Don’t drag me into this!” you yelled at Taeyong, learning a laugh from the two intruders. With another bow, you introduced yourself. “I’m sorry for being so disrespectful. My name is Y/N. I’m a trainee right now with SM.”

“Pleasure,” Donghae greeted. “I’m sure you know who I am. I’m Donghae from Super Junior. This is my wife, Nanda.”

“It’s great to meet you,” she hummed happily.

“Likewise.”

“So, a trainee, eh?” Donghae laughed. You nodded at him. “You must be excited.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Taeyong snickered at your comment.

“Well, I take it that something is going on if you guys are hiding out and dancing all by yourselves,” Donghae teased. Taeyong’s cheeks flushed, swatting at his senior.

“Hyung, stop!” Taeyong whined some more. “I agreed to help with some dance lessons because…” Taeyong paused, glancing at you. “She kind of reminds me of myself. I understood what she was going through and I want to see her do well because she’s very talented. So, I offered to help her learn.”

Donghae smiled at Taeyong words, nodding in acceptance before glancing at you. “Well, you are in good hands. This boy can really dance. And if he sees something in you, then you must be something special.”

Taeyong blushed harder. “Hyung”

While the two men bickered like children, though the senior was near a decade older, the senior idol’s wife tugged you aside. “He’s right though. Taeyong is a very talented young man, so you are in great hands.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I’m kind of lucky that he offered like this. It really has been helpful with these extra sessions. I feel like I’m not quite there yet, but I’m better.”

“Well, don’t give up at all. And whatever he tells you, don’t neglect the advice. He is one of the best people to know exactly how it feels to be in your shoes. I’m sure you will be on top of your group before you know it.”

“You have a lot of faith in me,” you laughed. Nanda smiled.

“I just know that Taeyong wouldn’t try this hard with just anyone. He sees something special in you, so I will be looking forward to when you are on stage with the others doing your own dances and songs. Just keep pushing till then. Keep practicing, keep training, and keep your head up. You got this.”

“Thanks,” you told her. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to the female. “Not to be rude or anything, but are those two related at all?”

Nanda laughed, shaking her head. “Why do you ask?”

“I just…” you paused, staring at the two men with a furrowed brow. “How can two guys be so incredibly attractive?”

Nanda snorted with a laugh. “I think it’s that Lee name. There is something in the Lee family name that gives them good genes, I swear. They are insanely good looking.”

“That’s some good genes then,” you laughed back, your laughs joining in unison.

The two men, hearing your laughter, glancing in your direction. Donghae made his way over, Taeyong on his heel, the older male taking his wife’s hand. “We should probably head out. The little one needs some sleep,” he said, patting Nanda’s protruding stomach. “We just heard the music and thought we’d stop in for a sec. It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N.”

“It was my pleasure, sunbae.”

The man smiled, shaking his head. “Just Donghae, please.”

“Alright… Donghae,” you uttered softly, a small smile gracing your cheeks. The older idol grinned, patting your head gently.

“Stay strong, Y/N. Remember not to give up on your dreams, and I’m sure we’ll see you with us before you know it. And if you guys ever need a hand, you know who to call.”

“Eunhyuk?” Taeyong sassily sneered, jabbing Donghae in the ribs with his elbow. The look on Donghae’s face made Taeyong snicker, hearing the disgruntled huff he let out.

“Low blow, Yong. Low blow,” he joked, tugging his wife towards the door. “Don’t stay too late guys. You need rest too.”

“We know,” you both responded, waving off the couple. “Night guys.”

“Night!”

The door closed with a subtle click that echoed through the silent studio, ringing loudly off the walls and mirror. Taeyong let out a sigh, ruffling his bright blue locks before turning towards you. “So, shall we get back to practice?”

“Yeah…” you hummed, eyes locked momentarily on the door. Taeyong’s brow rose, but he didn’t question your odd behavior.

“Do you want to continue the dance from practice?”

The words from the couple sent tingles up your spine, a pit of warmth filling inside you. Their eager encouragement fanned the flame that Taeyong lit on that first day of practice, the candle burning brighter than ever before. A surge of confidence overwhelmed you. Wringing your hands together, fingers twisting around the bottom hem of your shirt. Drawing a lip between your teeth and turning to face the man, your gaze met his, a confident glint in your irises.

“Actually,” you spoke up. Taeyong’s grin grew with the conviction in your voice, the strength you were suddenly portraying making his heart race, blood pumping rapidly. His dark eyes narrowed on you, nodding his head as encouragement to continue. “Can we… can we try something different?”

“Like what?” He pushed.

“How about… one of our group’s choreographies?”

Taeyong brow rose, but he smiled nonetheless. “Are you sure? We don’t exactly have easy dances.”

‘I’m sure,” you replied without hesitation. “I want to get better, Taeyong. And the only way to do that is to keep trying. To try new things, harder things. I want to master all I can and prove to everyone, and myself, that I’m cut out for this.” Pausing, you stepped closer to him, tilting your head up to look at him. Your hands took his, his returning the hold with a soft squeeze. “I will make you proud by taking the blank page of my life and drawing my own path.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” His fingers laced with yours, tugging you towards the stereo. “Now, what song would you say you fancy?”

Tapping your chin, you smiled cheekily. “How about a nice duo song. How about… Baby Don’t Stop?”

Taeyong chuckled, placing his phone down, selecting the song. “Perfect choice, milady.”

The surge of confidence that transpired thanks to the idol couple was let loose like a storm. Inspiration struck, and your skills grew stronger with each passing day. Taeyong noted how you grew stronger, more powerful, every time you danced together, praising you for your hard work and accomplishments. Your steps no longer felt sloppy, your body no longer felt sluggish. Every dance practice was better than the last, with movements becoming easier and quicker to learn - and master.

The overwhelming confidence showed more during the actual lessons. With each passing week, you made your way closer to the front of the pack, no longer hidden in the back row. You managed to lead the others instead of following their motions, setting the bar for those around you. Your dance instructor even praised you for how far you were coming, patting you on the shoulder one day after a hard dance that you almost perfectly nailed.

You were on cloud nine. Your dreams were becoming a reality and no longer felt like they were unreachable. They were within your grasp, your desire for the end product at your fingertips.

Lessons with Taeyong didn’t cease, even with how far you had come. On the contrary, they morphed into sessions to hone your creativity and enhance your abilities. Instead of repeating the days lessons, you would craft dances on your own, either freestyling to whatever random song Taeyong chose or developing a choreography with Taeyong’s help to improve the layout of the steps and flow of the body.

Some days, you were dancing by yourself, putting the steps to the test while Taeyong happily filmed it, the two of you collapsing against a wall and munching on some snacks while watching the playback. Ideas bounced between the two of you on how to improve the dance until you were content with the outcome. Taeyong would share the final video with his children - well, his members - and each time, they were impressed with what you had come up with.

Other days, you would dance with Taeyong, twisting and turning to the same beat as the man you admired for so long. The gentle caress of his fingers running along your waist from where your shirt rode up when your arms rose. The warm, tingly sensation they left along your skin. The feeling of his body.pressed against yours as he held you close, your hips sway in unison. Your legs tangled but never causing you to falter as you spun across the hardwood floor.

Every bit of dancing with him was memorable, and it only made your obviously feelings grow more until your heart was beating not from the intensity of the workout you were undergoing, but the pleasure he offered just by being by your side.

Tonight was one of those nights. You found yourself in the studio late with him. Most of the staff and other idols had left, the clock nearly an ungodly hour. The sky outside was dark, dotted with stars and a crescent shaped moon hovering overhead, not a cloud in sight. But you didn’t care about the darkness. The lights overhead in the dance studio were more than enough to keep you awake, unaware of the minutes that ticked by while focusing on the duo dance with Taeyong you had begun crafting since the earlier parts of the evening.

Compared to other dances, it was more sensual to you. The song Taeyong put on was Say You Won’t Let Go from James Arthur, and it led to you being closer to him than any other dance. Taeyong propped up his phone to record your practice as you decided on moves, piecing them together until you had a section you were proud of.

The entirety of the song, you found yourself in his hold, allowing him to spin you around until you were pressed to his chest. Your feet would slide across the ground before separating from each other, dancing individually, but completely in unison. It always amazed you how he could get your steps to sync perfectly, each body roll to match in time. It made the image you were going for complete. There were lifts and hugs as he spun without issue on the balls of his feet, your heart pounding at your chest the entire time. You always held your breath when your feet left the ground, your arms sliding around his neck as you hugged him close you prayed he wouldn’t feel the thumps of your heart against his tone torso. You never failed to laugh when his hands would find your waist from behind lifting you for a walking motion through the air, enjoying the weightless moment of being in his hands.

The ending of the dance was an accident - but worked in your favor. You were going to turn off the camera after the air walk, Taeyong having slid to the ground in a very Regular-esque move, too flustered to continue. But he moved forward, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, face buried in the side of your head. Reacting on instinct, your hands moved up to clutch at his bare forearm, feeling the veins that ran along them from the extreme workout. Burying your face in his arms, you smiled, letting your eyes close. Taeyong, himself, couldn’t stop from smiling, inhaling your sweet scent.

The second he saw that on camera, he knew that was how you had to end. Thus, every time you repeated the dance, wanting to perfect it, you wound up in his arms, uncaring about the heat of the room. His warmth was comforting, and you wouldn’t reject that, even if your heart thundered away inside you.

You were panting from the latest go, Taeyong stopping the music when you broke away from his hug. You grabbed your water bottle from your bag, pushing back the beet red blush along your cheeks as you sipped the cooling liquid. Your limbs were aching and your body was slick with sweat, clothes clinging to your frame. Your hair was knotted and messy from the thrills you had.

Sparing a short glance at the blue-haired idol, he was in a similar state. Dark eyes were glued to his phone, probably watching the latest video, or checking his texts from his members. His loose black shirt was no longer that - it was clinging to his lean body, untucked and wet. When his hand unconsciously moved to ruffle his locks, he sticking shirt rose with his stretched skin, showing off bits of his toned stomach and scar on the right side of his abdomen. His boxers were peeking from his shorts, the dark bank contrasting the red athletic bottoms he had on.

A low sigh left your lips. You couldn’t but to admire him. He was handsome after all; but your ever-growing affection stemmed from more than his looks. He was everything you wished for - and more. Staring at him became second nature because he was always on your mind. Your heart would beat unevenly with a single glance, a knot balling in your stomach from the rampaging butterflies you felt. Your cheeks heated once more, turning away before he caught you staring.

“Did you realize how late it is already?” he spoke. Light footfalls made their way over to you, the man snatching your water bottle from you. Your face lit up when you saw him take a sip, but you didn’t protest.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It’s nearly midnight,” he told you, showing his phone. He wasn’t lying; the white numbers read 11:37 PM.

“Damn. I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“Yeah. Must have been too focused on this dance,” he snickered. “How early is your lesson tomorrow?”

“Not till ten luckily,” you told him, retrieving your water bottle and replacing it in your bag.

“So,” he began, pursing his lips. The evil grin you had come to know grew, the man leaning forward slightly. “We have time for one more run before we have to get going.”

Your eyebrow rose, but you giggled, nodding after a second. “Fine. One more run.”

The music began, your steps following the beat together. He held you close, the two of you sliding across the entire studio while the music flowed. A heat was radiating between you both that you hadn’t really noticed before, making it a bit hard to concentrate. However, in Taeyong’s arms, you felt like everything was effortless. The lifts, the kicks, the twirls - everything felt natural.

When the final move came, you didn’t realize how unprepared for the hug you were. Something about it felt different, and yet, you found yourself sinking into his grasp. Neither of you cared about the sweat that coated your skin, or the way your bodies stuck together from the wet clothes. Neither of your cared when the music died away, the camera still rolling. Neither of you cared about the late time, or the exhausting that would soon hit.

In that moment, it was just about you and him. You and Taeyong.

Turning slowly in his arms, your hands slid down neck to his shoulders, and finally finding home resting on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with heavy pants. He watched you silently, slightly parted pink lips gasping for air. You didn’t look up at him, keeping your eyes forward, memorizing the Adidas logo on his shirt. His hands sat comfortably on your hips, itching to move, fingers curling slightly against your skin.

Slowly, one hand moved to push back a stray strand of hair that escaped the rat’s nest you called a ponytail. His fingers lingered, hesitating before tilting your head up to look at him Your eyes bore into his dark orbs, watching them glisten and twinkle. The heat around you intensified, but it was nothing compared to the blush that warmed your face when his fingers caressed your cheek softly. The touch singed you, the skin tingling violently from the simplest graze.

His eyes darted in different directions for a moment before he finally leaned down, connecting his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss. His eyes closed, yours shortly following from the eruption of pleasure you felt. The kiss was gentle, almost as if it wasn’t real. The connection was short, leaving you with a prickling sensation along your lips. Your lips rubbed together, wanting to confirm if that was real or not.

He tasted like cherries.

His eyes cracked open to look down at you, finding your lips puckered slightly, eyes still closed. Seeing that, he couldn’t stop himself. The hand on your waist gripped tighter. The hand on your face got a better grasp, thumb smoothing across your cheek while the rest tangling in your messy locks. He leaned back down, more pressure into the kiss this time. His head tilted, hadn’t stopped rolling, meshing his lips perfectly with yours.

And honestly, truly, you didn’t want to stop him. Your hands curled into his shirt, pushing up on your toes to return the kiss that you were hungry for. Your bodies pushed closer together, the world around you ceasing to exist in that moment. It was just about you and him.

You and Taeyong. Kissing each other like you were made for each other.

The camera hadn’t stopped rolling, something Taeyong would be grateful for later as he relived the moment the rest of the night, a pale pink blush on his face.

Taeyong frowned to himself, nibbling at his thumb nail anxiously. His eyes were glued to your form, not hesitating in his multiple notes of sluggishness and sloppiness. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he could only ponder why you had a sudden one-eighty before him. All the progress you had seemed to be dumped unremorsefully into the garbage, forgotten and abandoned with ease. The intimate dance the night before seemed like it never happened, though in his heart, he couldn’t forget the memory he held from it.

He was forced to watch your once dominant presence recede to the background once more. Your powerful stance was lackluster, and your willful eyes were dull. You followed others almost lazily, unable to keep up with the same choreography you had easily master days prior. His heart wrenched solemnly at the sight, gritting his teeth against his nail and squeezing his eyes shut unhappily.

It felt like day one all over again took form.

He hated that.

Once the music ended, all the trainees, including yourself, were hunched over, panting and sweating profusely. You ignored the tingle that came from Taeyong’s piercing gaze, knowing his eyes were locked on you. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, your head fell further than before, tears welling in your orbs and clouding your vision.

You couldn’t deny that you were disappointed in yourself with your performance, but your body was incapable of performing at its peak. The nagging voice in the back of your head kept echoing through your mind, the doubts you were used to having resurfacing at an amplified rate. Random cases of insecurity, seemingly unrelated to your current predicament, snuck in as well, aiding to your rapid descent to your day one trainee days.

“Alright, let’s call it a day everyone,” Jihun called, gathering his belongings. “It’s already getting late out, and I’d like to make sure you all can get back to your dorms safely. Thank you for a wonderful class today.”

“Thank you,” everyone repeated in unison, your voice quieter than the others around you. The group began to separate, picking up their belongings while conversing with their friends. With a heavy sigh, you trudged over to your bag, white knuckling the strap. You were ready to run away, locking yourself in your dorm so you could wallow in peace.

“Do you have a sec?”

Your eyes darted to the sorrowful brown ones of Taeyong. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his tight black jeans hiding the evidence of his anxious gnawing on his pristine nails. The toe of his Nikes was dug into the hardwood dance floor. Slowly, you nodded in response, Taeyong’s frown deepening at your silence.

Once the last person left, Taeyong’s gaze narrowed on you. A shaky breath left his pink lips, voicing the thoughts that had plagued him since the music started. “What’s going on with you today?”

“Taeyong, I…”

The idol pouted at your weak voice. “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized. “I’m just really confused, Y/N. You were doing so well. You showing everyone just how good you really are. All this confidence you had, being in the front during practice and learning the choreographies quickly and precisely, seems to have vanished. Everything that I’ve seen you do is gone and it’s like you are back at day one.”

“Tae-”

“I just want to know what’s going on,” he whispered. “What happened for you to suddenly regress to this stage? What happened for you to lose everything you had worked on?”

“Taeyong, I just…”

His head tilted, eying you quietly. He noticed the way your cheeks reddened and you avoided looking at him. It clicked in the idol’s head. Hesitantly, he pulled his hands from his pockets, wiping them free of sweat before taking your softly. His grasp was warm, giving a reassuring squeeze. The idol tugged you forward, closing the gap between you both. Glancing up, you met his stare and gentle, yet somewhat sorrowful, smile.

“Is it because of me?” he uttered softly. “Am I making you nervous?”

Silence.

“Is this… because of last night?” he asked again.

Silence.

“Is this because I kissed you?”

You blinked back tears, letting a shaky breath out. “I-I’m just nervous, I guess,” You told him. “Last night was amazing but… I can’t help but ask myself why. I wonder why me and I can’t help but to feel like I’m not good enough. You are just an amazing idol and I’m just me. I’m this pathetic trainee. I felt myself getting nervous and scared, and I just didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to think or to act, and I guess it got inside my head. I couldn’t remember anything from the second I walked in, despite all our practice, and I just felt shy in front of everyone again knowing they would judge me for this. I guess… I just lost confidence in myself.”

“Y/N, you're not pathetic at all. You know that. But, why didn’t you just say something? You know you can tell me anything” he asked with a light chuckle.

“Because I’m nervous,” you admitted.

“So am I. But I can tell you this flat out,” he hummed. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I wasn’t sure that I liked you. I like you a hell of a lot, Y/N. You are talented, funny, smart, beautiful. I love being around you. I’ve never felt so connected to someone before, but with you, it’s easy because I see so much of myself in you. It’s so easy to be with you because you put me at ease with myself. I want to spend every waking second I can with you, seeing you succeed by my side. And honestly, all I want to do is kiss you again.”

“You like me?” you asked.

Taeyong laughed, pulling you into him. Arms wrapped around you, hugging you to his chest. “You have no idea,” he let out. “I like you so much and I don’t want to see you lose yourself to your nerves. I want to see you succeed and I want to be by your side when that happens.”

“So, what are you saying?” you asked, an embarrassed smile grow to match your flushed cheeks.

“What I’m saying is that I want to be with you,” he hummed, “Because I wouldn’t have kissed you last night if I wasn’t sure that I completely and utterly had fallen for you.”

“Tae-”

“But I will only accept you as my girlfriend on one condition.”

“Oh?”

Taeyong smiled, leaning down until his lips were nearly upon yours. Your skin tingled from the ghostly touches. “You won’t let your nerves get to you like this again. I’m sorry I made you nervous and doubt yourself, but I don’t regret kissing you. I want you to promise me that you won’t give up, you won’t let your stinking nerves overwhelm you again, you will be number one and you will debut as an idol someday so we can perform together in front of our fans. I want to be able to sing and dance with you in front of everyone so they can see just how amazing I know you are. Deal?”

“Just kiss me, you fool.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He knew your answer the second you demanded his lips to press against yours perfectly, your bodies pressing even closer than before. His foot snaked between yours, leg sliding between yours to sit comfortably. His arms hung from your waist while yours encircled his neck, your heads tilting in opposite directions. An exhale of relief made your nose flare, but that didn’t stop the passionate kiss between you.

You mind buzzed the rest of the night. Hand in hand, you walked to Lee Soo Man’s office to tell him the news, agreeing to keep your relationship strictly private to avoid any scandals. Neither of you minded, wanting to avoid the news as much as possible. It meant more than you were allowed to date such an amazing idol - a man you and idolized for so long for his unique talents.

Sending him a sideways glance as you walked down the hall, hands clasped together, you set forth your own conviction. Giving his larger hand a firm, loving squeeze, you smiled to yourself.

I will never give up on this dream. I won’t let you down, Taeyong.

He didn’t realize how fast his feet were carrying him down the nearly empty hallway the second he told the rest of his members that practice was finished. He didn’t stick around long enough to hear their cheers, nor their snickers at his overwhelming exuberance. The male idol had checked his phone briefly between songs, the water he was about to sip to wet his parched throat forgotten.

Come to the normal practice room when you are done with the members. I want to see you, and I have something important to tell you.

His grin broke out, dropping his phone in his bag and zipping it shut. With a short call to the others, he was out the door, making a quick detour to the cafe before heading to his practice place - your practice room. The halls were nearly barren aside from some trainees headed back from their vocal lessons and some idols idly headed towards the exit to head back to their dorm.

Taeyong knew the sky outside was pitch black aside from the lights of Seoul twinkling light stars. Practice had started later than usual because he had other matters to handle before calling the rest of 127 to their normal studio to do their normal routine in preparation for their upcoming performances and company activities. Better to start early than later, he always told them. The plan was to stay as long as their bodies would allow.

But, duty called. The others knew that from the bright shine in his dark orbs.

With two iced coffees in hand, he was pushing his way into the practice room, pausing to close the door quietly behind him with his foot. The straw for his coffee rested between his lips, the man sipping at it quietly while keeping his eyes trained on you. You were occupied when he entered, soft music playing through the speakers as you danced strongly.��

It felt like an eternity since he had seen you dancing, despite the amount of time you spent together due to your strong relationship. Since starting back up with group activity, his time with your class had petered off. When the day came that he said he would no longer be joining for dance lessons, it was a solemn goodbye from the trainees, each one thanking him for his time, expertise, knowledge and sharing his experiences in hopes that they would one day, too, make it as he had. You had given him the longest, most heartfelt hug, his hand running along your back before he whispered cheekily that he would see you that night for dinner at the dorm.

He hadn’t really seen you dancing since that day. Your time together was more relaxed, spent cuddled together on the couch or in bed, watching silly shows, listening to music, or just doing your own things - Taeyong writing lyrics or planning choreographies while you prepared for upcoming lessons and evaluations. Occasionally, you would play games together in his dorm room, his solo dorm a blessing for times like that.

And… other things too, of course.

He felt a smile grow on his cheeks as he watched your smooth but powerful movements. His heart was racing. He always knew you were talented, but in the time apart, he was happily surprised at how much you improved. Your steps were firm, sliding across the polished hardwood without difficulty. Your arms extended into perfect lines. Your pirouettes rivaled those of the best dancers in SM that had trained in ballet, stopping on a dime without even the slightest wobble. Sweat made your face glisten, the man’s heart beating faster and a hot blush residing on his cheeks, running down his sharp jawline to his neck.

You didn’t notice him until you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Tumbling to the side with a yelp, Taeyong let out a hearty chuckle, moving to place the drinks he brought down, sliding his bag to the floor next to yours. Unlocking your phone, he stopped the music, the noise in the room replaced with your quiet grumbles.

“You know better than to sneak up on me,” you huffed angrily, grabbing the coffee he held out for you.

“Didn’t mean to, baby.”

You snorted at him, shaking your head with a ghost of a smile. “I know,” you let out. “I didn’t expect you to get here so fast. You said you guys were practicing late so I figured I had some time to work on this choreography I’ve been thinking of.”

“You designed that?” he questioned, shock on his face.

“Yeah. Was it bad?” you asked, pouting.

Taeyong grinned, grabbing the towel from your bag. Running the towel along your skin, he dried off the sweat that dripped along your face and neck. You giggled when he pat your chest dry as well, red cheeks from the sight of your sports bra clad features. When he dropped it back to your bag, his hands immediately turned to cup your cheeks, pulling you into a tender kiss.

“It was beautiful and I’m so proud of you,” he murmured.

“You’re too sweet, Yongie,” you cooed, placing your lips on his again in a brief connection.

“Only to you.”

“That’s a lie.”

Taeyong huffed, pulling you close by the waist. You both swayed silently for a moment until he broke the noiseless minute. “So, what did you need to tell me? You said it was important. Is everything alright, babe?”

You happily sighed at his nickname for you, hugging him close. “Yeah, everything is fine. I just got some good news today and I couldn’t keep myself from telling you. The second I found out, I could only think of you. I wanted to tell you right then and there, but I couldn’t.”

“I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing,” he chuckled. The man ruffled his hair with one hand, giving a toothy grin. “Well, if that’s the case, I have something to tell you as well. Well… more like ask you, I guess.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. But, please, you go first. You seemed really excited about this so please share, baby. I’m all ears.”

You let out a heavy breath, nodding your head. “Alright. Well, I had a meeting this morning with Lee Soo Man and Jihun.”

“I don’t know if I should be worried or proud,” Taeyong cut in with a laugh. Scowling, his laughter only got louder with the light smack you gave to his chest.

“Shush you,” you scolded. “As I was saying, we had a meeting this morning before I had to head to my vocal lessons. And they said some stuff about me and how I was doing in my training. And…”

“You said this was good news,” Taeyong exasperated.

“I know, and it is!” you giggled. “Jihun mentioned how I have become such a leader amongst the group of trainees I am with, and how much I have improved since I started months ago. He showed some videos of our trainings and of my evaluations. And Lee Soo Man was very impressed with what he saw. And they said how they’ve been talking about it for a while now. And…”

“Babe,” Taeyong whined. With his arms draped around you, his face buried into your neck, his soft breath hitting your fiery skin. “Stop tormenting me. I can’t take it anymore. I need to know what’s going on!”

“You’re so impatient,” you giggled at him. Prying him from your neck, your hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs smoothing across his delicate features. “I’m no longer a trainee, Yong.”

The man blinked. “Wait, what?” he mumbled. “Does… what do you mean exactly?”

You smiled. “Thanks to you and all of that extra training, I’ve been accepted as one of the next SM Rookies. Because you never gave up on me, and you helped me when I was feeling like I couldn’t do this, I’ve managed to take that blank slate and write my own story on it.” Your fingers curled against his cheeks, a few stray, happy tears sliding down your cheeks. “Just like you, Yongie.”

“Oh my god,” he breathed, holding back his own tears. He wiped away the drops that stained your skin, pulling you forward into a deep kiss. “I can’t believe it, baby. You did it. You really did it.” His arms pulled you close, embracing you in a tight, but warm, hug. Your face was trapped against his chest, burrowed in the soft fabric that smelled slightly of Febreze. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it. I’ve always known you could, but now, it’s so much more real. You’re going to make it big, Y/N, and I can’t wait to see that happen.”

“Thank you, Taeyong,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Sure you could-”

“No, I couldn’t. It’s because of you that I was able to get better. It’s because of you that I had the push to keep trying and get better. If you weren’t here, I would have given up and quit weeks ago. But you wouldn’t let me. And because of that, I knew I couldn’t let you down. I told myself that I would make you proud and one day, I would stand beside you on stage as your equal. You’ve given me so much inspiration just by being you and I want to do that too.”

“And you will,” he breathed, smiling widely. His words confused you, making you raise a brow at him. “Let’s just say that you aren’t the only one that had a meeting with Lee Soo Man today.”

“Oh? Pray tell, what happened to you today, my sweet boyfriend?”

“Mmm. Say that again,” he cooed.

Rolling your eyes, you complied, pushing up to whisper against his lips, “Boyfriend.” The second the word left your lips, he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, molding his mouth to yours.

The connection made you mewl slightly, allowing yourself to be pulled closer by the normally awkward idol. He wasn’t one to show affection often in public, but in private he had trouble keeping his hands to himself. Delicate fingers danced along your bare sides, tickling the skin until goosebumps rose under the tips. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, pushing passed partially parted lips so his tongue could teasingly play with yours.

Before things could get more heated, you pulled away from his kiss. A whine of annoyance left his lips, wanting to taste more of your lips. Yet, he held back.

“Finish what you were going to say, baby,” you told him.

“Fine. But only if I get more kisses afterwards,” he pleaded.

“I think we can arrange that.”

“Good,” he said. “So, before practice today, I had a meeting with Lee Soo Man, the managers, the other group leaders about the upcoming SM Town in a couple of months. I’m guessing my meeting was after yours since I didn’t see you around and you were already at practice by the time I got out-”

“Focus, Yong.”

“Right, right,” he nervously laughed. “First, I have to say that you are bound to not say anything about this right now until they talk about this to everyone. But, because this impacts you, I was given permission to say this.”

“Go on.”

“I’m going to have my own solo stage during the concert,” he confessed.

“Oh my god. Taeyong! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you,” you hollered, hugging him tightly. “You definitely deserve it.”

“Thanks,” he shyly let out, cheeks heated. “I’ve been working on this song for a while. I’m actually going in tomorrow to record if you are free and want to join.”

“We’ll talk about that after.”

“Right. Well, I’m basically set to do two performances - one more of a dance performance and one a rap and dance. And when we were discussing ideas...” he paused, pursing and wetting his lips with the dart of his tongue. “I asked if I could do them… with you.”

“Wait, what?” You asked. “Why would you do that? You didn’t even know that I was a Rookie. I was still a trainee, but you still requested that?”

“Well, it makes more sense why they were willing to comply,” he snickered. “I asked because I wanted to be able to dance with you - to perform with you. And I’m not just saying this because you’re my girlfriend. I asked because you are a talented young woman and I want to be able to perform these with you. What I have planned only works in my mind with you. And I think you’re ready to be up there with the rest of us. They said that they’d allow it… if you agreed.”

“Taeyong…”

“It’s just two songs. One will be a collab vocal and dance, more focused on the dance than anything. Then the second one will be a dance for you while I do my solo song. I’ve been thinking about the choreography for weeks now and I can only pull it off if you are by my side performing it. So please, I’m just asking you right now to consider it. You have every right to tell me that you don’t think you are ready and want to wait. But we only have so much time to practice if you do want to do it…”

“Then, when are we meeting?”

Taeyong silenced himself, blinking a few times to process your words. His eyes bore into yours, a grin slowly forming. “Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’ll do it,” you told him confidently. “I’m nervous as all hell because I don’t want to ruin your stage, but I want to do it. This is what I joined SM to do. If I back down now, when will I be ready? When will I have the chance again? And, with you there, I’m sure I can do anything.”

Taeyong smiled, tugging you into another hug. “You have no idea how happy you just made me,” he whispered. “Though you know you make me happy every day, right?”

“I could say the same about you,” you giggled. “So, when should we start?”

Taeyong hummed for a moment before choosing you back you up, your back hitting a wall. His hands trailed down your sides slowly, passing over your backside before coming to a rest on your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you up, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist, using the wall as leverage to keep yourself upright. Your arms hung around his neck, playing with the loose blue hairs on the back of his head.

“We can worry about that later,” he breathed, leaning in until he was almost touching your lips. “I think for now, you owe me a little kiss.”

“Are you really wanting to start a make out session in the practice rooms?” you teased.

“Why not?” he mused. “It’s late. No one is here.”

“You know, sometimes I think you are this sweet and careful man. Then I remember that you aren’t,” you joked.

“Is that a no?”

“That’s an invitation to hurry up and kiss me before someone does walk in on us.”

Taeyong chuckled before pressing his lips to yours hastily and hungrily. Your hands, tangled in his silky locks, pushed his head closer to yours, not caring that your noses squished a tad or your teeth clashed slightly. His hands roamed your thighs, glad you were wearing shorts in the moment. The kiss was open-mouthed, his tongue tangling with yours between your cheeks. His body rocked against you subtly, pressing your chests and groins together. Heat radiated between your forms, drawing you together like magnets.

The room filled with lip smacking and quiet groans. Every time a kiss a broken, your lips would let out a wet noise, Taeyong giving a second to breathe before delving back in for another kiss. Your mewls of contentment were swallowed, the sounds reverberating inside him. His fingers dug into your skin, squeezing at your thighs and sides happily. His own groans came from your dancing of your tongues and the sting from the tug on his hair that he enjoyed.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d be sharing such a fiery kiss in the middle of a practice room. But you weren’t going to argue the occurrence in the slightest.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there with him, but you were sure to enjoy the time.

The alarm on your phone blared from the side table, the room dark. You struggled to reach for the noisy device, your body restricted by the fluffy blankets and clinging boyfriend on your side that barely stirred from the blasting sounds in his dorm room. Letting out a sigh once the alarm was stopped, you glanced down at the sleeping bluenette, seeing his snuggled against you happily. His arm was clung to your waist, your legs tangled under the blankets. His face was buried against the side of your chest, gentle breathing fanning against the bare skin of your chest.

Fingers raked through his locks, trying to urge him awake. “Yong, you have to wake up,” you cooed sweetly at him.

“No,” he grumbled huskily, curling deeper into your side. Despite his protest to wake up, you stirred at the feeling of his lips against your chest, kissing at the side of your bare breast.

“Is that so?” you whimpered at him, writhing slightly when his kisses increased. He smiled against your soft skin, trailing lazy kisses up to your perky nipple. “Really, Taeyong? You want to do this now?”

The man stayed suckling at your supple breast for a moment before pulling away with a subtle pop. You could faintly see the lazy grin on his face through the darkness.

“Can’t blame me,” he rasped, nuzzling his face between your breasts. “I just love you so much.”

The words made your heart jump, smiling down at him. “I love you too. But we have to get up. It’s the SM Town performance today, baby. We have to be there by noon to start getting ready. But you promised your members that you would make breakfast.”

“Can we just snuggle for a bit longer?” he asked, glancing up with a sleepy pout.

Placing a kiss to the top of his head, you laughed. “Fine. But just a little bit longer,” you conceded. “But…”

“But?”

You forced him off your chest and onto his back beside you, twisting your legs between his and slinging an arm across his smooth stomach. Your fingers ran along his milky skin, smiling to yourself. “I get to do this.”

Taeyong laughed, adjusting his position to drape his arm behind your head. His free arm moved behind his head, propping himself up to look down at you better. He watched you skim your fingers along his stomach, the blanket pushed down to his hips. The tips of your fingers circled his belly button, pressing against his lean muscles.

“You have such a nice, smooth tummy,” you mumbled. Taeyong laughed at your words, shaking his head.

“Is that all you like about me?” he asked jokingly.

“Yup,” you teased. “That and your amazing personality, caring nature, mean dance and rap skills, and just overall you.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” he chuckled. Resting your chin on his naked chest, you traced your fingers up his body until you found his arm. You traced along the tattoo on his elbow, the word reading “Under” in contrast to the “Stand” on the arm behind your head. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “I just love feeling your body. You have the softest skin, Yongie.”

“I work very hard to keep my skin healthy,” he told you.

“Nothing beats your tummy though,” you giggled. “Your outfit tonight is going to drive me crazy. You wearing a see-through shirt? With your stomach showing? How am I supposed to dance and sing while you are looking like a snack?”

“Snack? Really?” He chuckled. “What about you? The dress you wear? I love the design they went with for it. You’re going to look so good.”

“I hope so.”

Taeyong remained quiet for a second before kissing your forehead. “How are you feeling today?” he asked seriously.

“If I’m being honest?” you hummed. “Nervous as all hell. I can’t believe this is happening. Today is the day and I just… I don’t want to screw this up.”

“You’re going to do great,” he told you making you look up at him. “We’ve practiced so much. You know the song. You know the dances. You just can’t let your nerves get to you.”

“How are you not nervous?” you asked, frowning at him. Taeyong laughed, ruffling his already messy bed head.

“Baby, I’m always nervous before a performance,” he admitted. “But I know it’ll be worth it to perform because I know the fans will enjoy it. And as long as I try, I give it my all, and I have fun, I know it’ll be worth it. Being up on stage, all those people watching you, is the most nerve wracking but exciting feeling. But I guarantee once you are out there, seeing all those light sticks shining in the sea of fans, hearing their fan chants and their cheers for you, you will love it.”

“You better be right,” you scowled, escaping his grasp. Hovering over him for a moment, you placed a tender kiss to his lips. “If you aren’t, then I will…”

“You will…?”

“I don’t know right now,” you huffed. “But I will be very mad!”

He watched you climb out of bed, finding a pair of clothes to wear from his drawers. He smiled to himself. “You’ll enjoy it. I just know it.”

“I’m sure you’re right. You always are,” you confessed, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “Now, get up and get dressed. We need to make breakfast before Mark comes knocking asking for food.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mere hours later, after a rowdy and loud breakfast, you were whisked away to the Seoul World Cup Stadium in preparation for the performances that night. Taeyong gave you a sweet smile, yelling ‘fighting’ before he was dragged away for hair and makeup with his group members.

You were escorted in the opposite direction, placed in a chair while your face was dusted with makeup and your hair was pinned up stylishly but elegantly. Your eyes popped and your lips looked vibrant. You couldn’t believe how good you looked when they stepped away, allowing you to stare at your reflection.

After dressing in your dress, a low-cut black dress that shimmered with sparkles, ending at your thighs and a pair of shorts underneath due to the performance at hand, and a pair of glittery silver heels adorned on your feet, you stood on the side of the stage watching the NCT performance going on. A stage hand was preparing your headset for the duet you would shortly perform with Taeyong, placing the earpiece in your left ear to hear yourself as you sang. You shuffled in your spot, feeling the anxiety bubbling up inside you. Your hands rang together awkwardly, trying to avoid gnawing at your lip to ease your stress.

“I can do this,” you told yourself repeatedly, letting out a shaky breath. “I trained for this. I’m ready to do this. I can’t give up.”

I can’t let Taeyong down.

As the music on stage came to an end, the vibrations fading away with the last chords, the eight boys of NCT 127, apart from Taeyong, fanned off the stage, leaving the solo idol in the center of the large platform. The lights were beating down on him, the black, sheer, long-sleeved shirt twinkling to match your dress. His black skinny jeans hugged his hips and legs, neatly shined black boots on his feet. Despite the cheer of the fans throughout the stadium, he remained composed, face turned to the ground to prepare for the song.

The gentle beat of the music started, a familiar tune of Senorita coming through the speakers. You were given the cue to proceed, just as you had rehearsed the day before. With one last heavy breath, your feet carried your forward confidently, stepping onto the stage and under the bright colored lights in front of thousands of fans for the first time.

Taeyong slowly turned to you as part of the dance, your slow, near sensual steps towards each other bringing you face to face. You wanted to crack a smile at him, but you remained focused, watching him step aside as you started to sing. Your solo dance and vocal section came first, showing precise steps, powerful moves, and sexy curves and shimmies of your body.

Taeyong’s section came next. He stood across the stage from you as he sang, showing his handsome yet talented self. Every move was perfection, the man a natural with the dance. It was more sensual than his normal dance moves, but he had no issue rolling his body to the beat, a hand running along the length of his chest to his covered groin.

Your duet was next - your bodies came together, arms encircling one another as you danced together for the first time. His hands held your gently yet firmly as you moved your bodies against one another, Taeyong twirling you around, dipping you gracefully, and spinning you into his arms before grasping your leg, bringing it up his side.

You broke for a solo portion once more, repeating the process of dancing to your portion of the song before Taeyong had his own section. You couldn’t help but marvel when he danced, almost forgetting to do your part before you came together for the last portion of your dance together.

When you came together once more, you were elated with how the dance turned out. Your steps were perfectly in sync, never missing a beat with one another. Your bodies fit against one another seamlessly with each roll of your figure or advance on one another. Taeyong fingers grazed your carefully when he would trace along your body, leaving a trail of fire along the way. Your heart pounded the entire time, but you loved the feeling of being there with him.

The dance ended with you forms back to back. The music died down, but the thumping in your ears didn’t. You didn’t even register the screams of the crowd as you walked off briskly, swapping shoes quickly and pulling on a sparkly black leather jacket. Taeyong was beginning his new solo song, his voice fading away for a short interlude. That was the cue for you to rejoin his side, his own black jacket in hand.

You helped him slide it on, his hand resting on your side briefly once it was on. This time, you didn’t hide the smile on your face, his own smirk rising. Your bodies separated, turning to face the crowd. Your eyes scanned the seats, inwardly grinning while eyeing the waving light sticks and cheerful fans. Your eyes rang with Taeyong’s voice, his rap beginning to pick up.

With the start of his song came the start of the dance. The style was completely different than your first dance, the current dance being higher paced, along the lines of a hip-hop style. Your body popped more than before, feet swiveling on the stage - you were thankful for the switch for the sneakers over the heels. You still managed to match Taeyong’s moves perfectly, never missing a beat or disconnecting from his steps. The dance was more fun to perform, but still help a passionate edge when you got to pull him closer, standing chest to chest with the man of your dreams, or when he spun you around into his arms, his long fingers ghosting down your arm until he was holding your hand, sparks from his fingertips leaving goosebumps along your clothed skin.

You stepped away briefly before stepping together one last time. The song closed, you both turning to the crowd. As the music ended, your bodies heaving with heavy pants for precious air, they erupted into a sea of screams that consisted of not only Taeyong’s name, but yours as well. You saw people standing from the seats, bouncing on the balls of their feet as they chanted, waving the various colors in the sky.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to cheer. You felt overwhelmed from the validation.

But you held it in as you and Taeyong rushed off stage for the next performance. Your head was pounding, and you were dripping with sweat from the heat of the stage, but you were thrilled. Your quick steps came to a halt as soon as you got backstage, away from the camera and fans. Turning to face the popular idol, he was giving you a smile, two hands raised to give you a high five.

You smiled, slapping your hands to his. You remained in that stance for a second, allowing everything to sink in. After the second passed, Taeyong pushed forward, his arms dropping and wrapping around your waist instead. You were lifted from the ground, your arms instantly flinging around his neck and hugging him close. Spinning in circles, you both laughed joyously.

“You did it!” he cheered, hearing you laugh more.

“We did it,” you corrected.

Taeyong placed you back on the ground, pushing a few strands of loose hair back. “No. You did it. This was your first performance and they loved it. They loved you, Y/N. They were chanting for you, they were cheering for you. You were amazing out there and they saw that.” He hugged you once more, lifting you back off the ground. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Taeyong,” you whispered, burying your face in his neck. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“This was all you, Y/N,” he said. He placed you back down, sticking his tongue out playfully. “Welcome to the big leagues now, idol. It’s good to have you with us.”

You grinned, smacking him jokingly. “It’s good to be here. I’m glad I can join such an amazing group of people to work with.”

“The world should be ready to see more of Y/N. Because this was just the beginning.”

You smiled at him, dragging him away. “You’re right, Yong. Because I’m never giving this up.”

Taeyong smiled, stealthily slipping his hand in yours as you walked towards wardrobe to change for the final stage, everyone sporting the same SM Town shirt. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You were high from the adrenaline, but you knew this is where you were meant to be.

You returned to the NCT dorm with the boys after the concert ended, all nine spouting off about wanting to celebrate. However, the last thing you really wanted to do was party, and it was evident the others were just as exhausted. Feet trudged along to the door of the large dorm, holding it open for you to walk in. Taeyong stood behind you, his hands on your hips as he slouched forward against you.

Despite their reckless desire to celebrate the night, all the boys went their separate ways, bidding adieu on their way to their respective rooms to collapse. A few stopped into the kitchen to grab a snack before disappearing to their rooms. Taeyong led you to his room, opening the door and allowing you to enter first.

He chuckled lowly when you collapsed to the bed, letting out a heavenly sigh of relief. “Who would have thought that being a rookie idol would be this tiring?” came your muffled voice, face smushed in his pillows. The bed dipped with his weight when he sat beside you, rubbing a soothing hand along your back.

“Just wait till you actually debut and start touring and performing more often. It gets…” he paused, pondering his words. “Tiring.”

“I’d bet.”

“How about,” he hummed, turning you onto your back so he could hover over you better. He carefully reached out to pull a few pins holding your hair up carefully from your stiff locks, “You go take a shower first and relax a bit. I will shower when you are done.”

“A shower sounds nice,” you mumbled, taking his hand in yours. “But you can just join me?”

The phrase came out as more of a question, but it didn’t catch Taeyong off guard.

“You know I’d love to, but the others are home…”

“And they’re in their rooms, probably already asleep. You have your own bathroom. And it’s just a shower, Yong.”

Sucking his lips between his teeth, he tugged you up, stifling a laugh at the groan you let out even though you allowed him to drag you away. The light flickered to life, Taeyong pulling you in and closing the door behind your forms. He pulled two towels from under his sink, placing them aside. Your eyes followed him as he made for the shower, turning on the water to allow the heat to build, soft wisps of steams floating through the air.

The lean idol stripped his head over his head, placing it neatly aside for him to hang later. Turning to you next, he helped to pull your shirt away from your form, placing it with his. Nimble fingers made quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans, your hands resting on his shoulders while he kneeled low enough to slide the dark denim from your legs.

Being the gentleman he was, he turned to allow you to finish undressing yourself, though it wasn’t anything new for him to see, and step into the shower before him. You did so wordlessly, a glowing smile upon your cheeks the entire time. Stripping free of your bra and underwear, you stepped through the glass door into the scalding watering. A giant sigh of delight escaped, almost the sound of a low moan.

Taeyong joined you shortly after, staring at you for a moment under the water. He admired the way the droplets cascaded down your body, your head dipped under the waterfall of water, allowing it to wet your hair. Your hands scrubbed at the makeup that caked your face, revealing your natural beauty that was one of the things he loved about you.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you against his bare form. You smiled happily, leaning back into his grasp, your head resting on his shoulder. The water fell over your forms, the heat helping your bodies to relax from the stress and strain of the day. He held you for what felt like an eternity, just allow you to rest in his arms.

The idol grabbed the shampoo from his neatly organized shampoo ack, lathering a few drops in your hair gently. You did the same to him, using the hair treatment shampoo for his colored hair. Repeating the process with conditioner, you moved on to soaping up your bodies, cleaning yourself of any sweat that clung to you still and any remaining makeup that was dusted to your skin.

The soapy suds circled your feet as it was rinsed away, spiraling down the drain. Taeyong hugged you close to him as the last of the bubbles vanished. His fingers ran through your hair, your head tilting up to stare at his handsome face. Your eyes traced along the sharp jawline and dark eyes, slowly pushing up to press your lips to his soft pink ones in a supple kiss.

His arms tightened around you, eyes fluttering closed while responding with his own force. He pressed into you, returning the kiss thoughtlessly. His head tilted to the side to allow himself more access, lips parting to share a steamy open-mouth kiss. Your tongues tangled together between your cheeks, lips dragging against each other. Each separation caused a low smack to resonate around you, amplified by the glass walls and heated air. Taeyong would then dip back down to repeat the actions, each new kiss growing more passionate than before.

Slowly, his lips began to drag down your jaw to your neck, placing loving kisses to your skin. A low moan escaped your lips before you attempted to seal them together, not wanting to alert the others of what was going on in the dorm. The idol didn’t seem to enjoy that. His frown was evident against your neck, and his actions portrayed the dissatisfaction from the lack of noise. His hands began to roam your body, thumbs brushing against your pert nipples and tracing the round curvature of your breasts.

“Taeyong,” you let out quietly. “The others-”

“They won’t hear,” he rasped. “You even said it yourself. They’re in bed. And if you are worried, then you should keep quiet.”

“You’re mean,” you fake cried.

“But you love it,” he cooed teasingly, his head traveling lower, kissing you along the way. “We’ll keep this short.”

Those were the last words he managed to utter before he connected his lips to your chest, suckling to your hardened bud. His hand toyed with the other breast, squeezing at it firmly. Your hands wound through his blue locks, low moans filling Taeyong’s ears. The attack of his mouth to your mound increased at the new noises, nipping and kitten licking at the tender skin of your chest. His tongue flicked at the nipple before tugging at it with his lips and teeth, a pop echoing in your ears.

The same process was repeated to your other breast, the idol leader playing favor to suckling at the nipple, latching onto it to give it plenty of attention. When he finally disconnected, the man sunk to his knees, gently parting your legs for him to settle between. You used his shoulders to stay upright, sighing contently at the feeling of his hot breath against your core.

He wasted no time pressing his lips to your center, dragging his tongue through your folds and into your throbbing pussy. Nails dug into his pristine skin, a short gasp of ecstasy released at the feeling. He lapped at your core, circling the wet article inside you for a bit before taunting you by pulling it in and out occasionally.

When his mouth finally met your clit, you moaned louder than before. A grin grew on his face, suck at the nub harshly. A hand slid up your leg, disappearing between them. Two fingers circled your entrance before pushing into you. The thrusts started slow at first, focusing more of his effort on his mouth attached to your clit, but the pace gradually picked up. The tips of his long fingers curled, scratching at your inner walls with each thrust.

You moans picked up, one hand covering your mouth to shield the volume before you were screaming through the dorm for the other members to hear. Your body was on fire from how he made you feel, a knot growing inside your lower abdomen. The knot tightened severely when the curled fingers brushed to your g-spot, causing your body to jerk forward with a short call of his name.

His licks got faster, his fingers speeding up until he was knuckle deep, pounding you furiously to get you to your high. Your own fingers curled back into his wet hair, giving it small tugs that did nothing to ease the smoldering fire within. Your heart was racing, thumping loudly in your ears. Your walls were clenching and unclenching alternatively, trying to hug at the digits inside you. Your stomach tightened at the overwhelming feeling of arousal that was washing over you.

“Yong… Taeyong,” you gasped through your fingers. “I’m…”

He nodded in understanding, flicking quickly at your clit, aiming for your g-spot with his fingers as often as possible to get you to the turn. Your sight went white for a moment when the knot unraveled, walls clinging around his fingers and spilling your essence around them. Some drops escaped and trickled down your leg, washing away with the cooling water that still fell from above.

Taeyong’s mouth detached from your core, licking through your folds a few times before standing upright, pulling you against him. Any juices that were on his hand washed away, his clean hand tracing up and down your spine to soothe you through your climax. His lips pressed to your forehead, uttering a short ‘I love you’ before pulling away.

“I will leave you to finish. Take your time, alright? I will leave you some clothes on the counter.”

You nodded at him, hazy eyes watching him leave the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and disappearing out the door, hearing a near silent click when it shut. Your eyes closed, allowing yourself to relax for a few minutes, your mind still buzzing from the aftermath of your orgasm.

You dried and dressed in one of his long sleeve shirts, a pair of shorts you had left in his room hugging your waist. You ran the towel through your hair as you walked back into his room, spotting him at his desk - dressed and comfortable a simple white tee and lounge pants. His hair was still wet, his eyes focused on whatever he was working on. His fabric markers were strewn across the top of his table. Soft music played from his phone, the man humming along to the Post Malone song. Your clothes had been hung up, ready for the wash. His hair dryer was plugged in beside him, resting on his desk with other random belongings.

He didn’t flinch when your hands met his shoulders, running down his arms slowly, feeling the goosebumps that prickled along his arms. Trickling your fingertips back up, one hand laced through his wet locks, the other moving to grab the hairdryer. Cautiously, not wanting to burn him, you clicked the machine on, threading your fingers through his hair as the heat penetrated them, the wet strands fluffing and drying. You were careful not to get to close to his ears or scalp, scratching at it lightly and soothingly.

When he was fully dried, you proceeded to dry your own hair, watching him doodle on two pairs of white shoes. Each pair had the same markings, from words to pictures. The other difference was one pair had his name, the other pair not matching the elegant lettering on the side. The machine buzzed to silence when you turned it off, putting it down and unplugging it. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rested on his shoulder, watching him closely.

“What are you working on?” you asked. Taeyong turned his head towards you, smiling sweetly, a bright blush on his cheeks.

“You weren’t supposed to find out until they were done,” he huffed playfully.

“Well, you’re the one that was working on them knowing I was just in the bathroom.”

“I know,” he mused. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I also can’t keep anything from you. I’ve wanted to let you know about this little project for a while.”

“So? What are you up to, Lee Taeyong?”

“I was designing a new pair of shoes… for both of us,” he mumbled, almost embarrassed. “You know, a matching set for us to wear. As a…”

“As a couple?” you asked, the idol nodding. You smiled at him, placing a tender kiss to his cheek. “That’s sweet, babe. I love that so much.”

“You do?” he asked meekly.

“Of course,” you giggled. “Plus, they are coming from you. Why wouldn’t I love them?”

“I don’t know…”

“I think it’s sweet,” you hummed, hugging him tighter, peppering the side of his face in kisses that made him smile and laugh. “I can’t wait until they are done so we can wear them together.”

“I’ll have them done soon,” he told you, turning to stare at you. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips to yours in a simple kiss that didn’t last long, though a tingling sensation was left behind after your separated. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Yong.”

He grinned, kissing you again swiftly. The kiss didn’t linger long before Taeyong had broken away, hand scouring the desk for the polaroid camera you had gifted him one day. He used it regularly when he was with the guys and yourself. The pictures he took were lining his shelves on a string, and he was more than happy to add to them. He had mastered the art of taking a selfie with the polaroid camera, swapping it to aim towards you.

Your face nuzzled against his, pressing your cheeks together. You each gave a toothy grin before the shutter went off, picture printing from the camera. Taeyong took the newly printed image, placing it aside to develop before aiming the camera again. This time, he turned to you, eyes closing as you shared a loving kiss. Your own eyes fluttered closed, relishing in the feeling he gave you.

Even when the camera went off and the picture printed, you didn’t separate, allowing Taeyong’s lips to drag against yours. His lips completely covered yours, meshing together perfectly, giving them a soft, wet pop when he eventually pulled away. You instantly pulled him back in, sharing a heated open-mouth kiss that left him whining softly, shuffling in his seat.

You pulled away from him, taking the developing pictures from Taeyong’s desk to hang them up. He put the camera away, gathering the scattered markers in one spot beside the two pairs of white shoes. Spinning in the chair, we chuckled as he watched you struggle to hang up the pictures, your tongue sticking out upon figure out where to place them. You managed to hang up the first photo of you both smiling before Taeyong joined your side, taking the second photo.

“I think this is my favorite one of us,” he spoke, admiring the photo. “I should frame it.”

“You’re a dork,” you laughed, kissing his cheek.

“Don’t laugh at me. It’s cute!” he scowled, choosing to hang the photo in the middle of the line, adjusting those around it to properly showcase his idol family. He looked proud of his display, hands pressed to his slim waist. “There. It’s perfect for now.”

“For now?” you teased, collapsing on his bed. Hugging a pillow to your chest and curling into a ball, you watched him straighten up his room, giving a few squirts of Febreze to freshen the place before preparing to sleep. Taeyong stood in the middle of the room, glancing in your direction and snickering at the ball cuddled into his sheets. Slowly, his shirt was peeling over his head, placed with the rest of his clothes.

A short yelp of surprise and joy left your lips when he tackled you to the bed, your bodies rolling around the covers until your back was against the small mattress, his body hovering over yours. His face nestled its way into your neck, nipping and kissing the skin. His hands traveled your sides, hips rutting against yours. A low mewl escaped, music to the man’s ears that urged him to push harder and faster, more kisses to delicate skin.

“Taeyong, we can’t wake the others-”

The hands trailing along your sides began to tickle at your skin, making you erupt in laughter. Your body squirmed and writhed, trying to escape his grasp, but you remained trapped by his form. Taeyong moved away from your neck to watch you laugh, joining in on the hysterics when you attempted to tickle him back.

His phone dinged from where he placed it on his bedside table before tackling you. With a deep groan, he paused and grabbed it, reading the message received. You watched him silently, panting to catch your breath from his relentless attack. He snickered slightly before turning it to face you, allowing you to laugh with him as well.

“I told you we can’t wake the others. And here we are, receiving a message from Mark to keep it down.”

The text was a jumble of letters and numbers, obviously derived from sleep, but it was easy to make out the words Be quiet and go to bed already! from the younger rapper. Your hand covered your mouth, shielding yourself from laughing loudly once again. Taeyong put his phone back, biting at his lip to control his own laughs.

The man rolled off you, resting on his side with one arm draped over you. To face you, you rolled onto your own side. Your fingers ran through the soft tendrils on his head, watching his beautiful orbs close. His fingers curled against your side, pushing up the shirt you wore to feel your skin.

“Have I told you how proud I am of you for everything you’ve accomplished?” he spoke slowly, sliding closer until he was pressed flush against you. “Because I am. It doesn’t feel like that long ago that you joined as a trainee and I saw that nervous kitten in the studio. You reminded me so much of myself that I just… I had to help you. But as I got to know you, I couldn’t help just how natural it felt to be with you. I was so drawn to you from day one that I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t make it this far.

“But look at everything you’ve managed to accomplish. All that hard work. You are just so talented, and you finally got to a point where you can show others just what you are capable of. And it’s not because of me. I helped you along the way, coached you and guided you, but it was all you, baby. You never gave up and now you are a rookie. You are up there performing with the best of us. And I’m sure in no time, you will be in a group of your own, touring across the world and doing what you love.

“And I couldn’t be prouder to see how far you have come since that first day. I’m glad I could see how you progressed and how you developed. And I surely can’t wait to see where you go in the future.” He paused, rubbing his lips together. “And I hope I can be by your side along the way. As your company mate. As your friend. And as your boyfriend.”

“Taeyong,” you sniffled. “I know you said that it was all me, but I really couldn’t have done it without you. And you have no idea how thankful I am. And I’m glad that I could make it this far with you by my side.”

You paused, pulling him closer our noses brushed against each other. Your lips were nearly upon yours as you mumbled at him.

“And I never want to give up this dream as long as I have you by my side as my company mate, my friend, and as my boyfriend.” You grinned, pushing into him more. Your legs tangled together, arms encasing each other. “I love you so much.”

He didn’t respond - verbally. His lips pressed to yours, pulling you as close as possible. The open-mouth kiss was steamy from the start, his lips dragging against yours in noisy smacks. Your tongues danced together, a moan caught in your throat. Your bodies rocked against one another, kisses growing sloppier by the second. Your hands tangled in his locks, giving them a tug as the intensity increased. Your legs curled around his, your toes flexing and coiling. His hands roamed your body unforgivingly, selfishly attacking your lips repeatedly until you couldn’t breathe.

His hands pushed at your shirt, helping you to rid it from your torso and carelessly tossing it away. Greedy hands palmed at your chest, keeping you preoccupied and silenced with the numerous, fiery kisses you shared. While you choked on his tongue, moans were trapped in yours and his throats, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body. Your eager form pushed into him, rolling together against his heated body.

His lips broke from yours, tracing along your jaw leading towards your chin, and finally down your neck. He slid down your form to your chest, repeating the same process he had in the shower not long before. Already botched in red dots from his prior activities, newly left marks were left along your breasts as he roamed your mounds. Your favorite part was always when he found your pert nipples, wrapping his lips around them, tugging and nipping at them all while suckling happy at the sensitive bud. The overwhelming sensation of him attached to your breast, lovingly flicking his tongue around the bud, made you moan his name, coaxing him to continue what he was doing.

His lips broke from your breast with a not so subtle pop, smacking his lips together a few times before returning to your lips. The intense kiss made your stomach tighten, your legs kicking and squeezing in an attempt to relieve the sensation between them. Your reaction to his lips made him twitch with excitement, eager hands tugging at your shorts and panties. He managed to push them down without breaking the kiss, your feet kicking them over the end of the bed. HIs lounge pants and boxers followed, taking an extra moment to leave his long legs when they tangled around his ankles.

One veiny hand was used to drape your leg over his waist, his erect cock pressed between your stomachs. His hips jerked forward, rutting himself against you, making himself twitch and harden more. Your lips broke from his to glance down, the image slightly blurred by hazy eyes. Even in the low light of his room, you could see the swollen red tip of his length between you, beads of precum seeping from the slit. Your mouth watered, core tightening with want.

“Can I?” he asked quietly, somewhat panting from his excitement. “Please.”

“Yes,” you replied shortly, hugging him close to you.

Gleefully, Taeyong aligned himself with your core, careful as he eased his way into you. An echo of low moans left you both, Taeyong enjoying the sensation of your tight walls around him and you relishing in the way his large shaft stretched you as he slid in, burying himself hilt deep. The feeling was raw, unlike your first time when the condom shielded his skin from yours. It was times like this you were glad you were on birth control. The feeling was amplified without the need for the pesky rubber.

Taeyong still inside you, allowing you to adjust to his size, and to not lose control of himself too quick. It didn’t matter how many times he found himself in this position - you drove him crazy every single time. You brought him back up to short kisses, tangling your fingers in his hair as you did. The hand that was on your thigh over his waist squeeze happily, a way to tell you he was enjoying everything.

When your hips jutted forward, telling him you were ready, he broke the kiss, focusing on his movements. Taeyong always wanted to please you. As much as he loved your kisses, especially during intimate moments like this, we wanted to focus on making you feel good. And one thing he learned was that when you felt good because of his powerful and quick thrusts, you were vocal about it.

He pulled back slowly before pushing back in just as calmly. The mewls of protest made him chuckle deeply, steadily picking up his pace until he was pounding into you at a consistently strong rhythm. His hand help you close, clenching you so tightly that veins were beginning to run along his arms. Your hips clapped together, the sweat that produced between you making the noise grow. His large cock filled you completely, sliding along your soaked, sensitive walls and hitting every spot that made your head spin.

He kept hitting the one spot he knew drove you insane. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, near screaming-like moans leaving your lips, throat vibrating. Taeyong wished he could enjoy the noises, but knowing the others were in the dorm kept him from hearing the music of his angel to the extent he preferred. It didn’t hinder his thrusts, determination growing and more powerful thrusts used to slam him deep into your wet pussy.

He pushed you back until your back hit the mattress once more, the idol settling between your spread legs. His hands held your knees back, your feet left floating in air to flop around with each sloppy thrust. Not having anything to hold, your arms extended up above your head, Taeyong having a perfect view of your blissful face and bouncing breasts. The sight of your tits jiggling with every thrust he delivered made his mouth water, wanting to lean forward to attach to them, slathering them with love.

But he focused on you. He knew you were tired. He was too. He didn’t want to drag out this love making session too long, but he wanted to give you a release. Hell, he wanted a release too, otherwise he wouldn’t be sleeping long that night. His head was spinning with ecstasy, your body burning with love and passion.

He panted, pistoning himself furiously into you. “You feel so good,” he let out as a gasp. “God, I love you so much.”

You couldn’t respond. The tip of his cock kept hitting the sweet spot into you because of the altered angle he was fucking you at. He managed to slide deep into you, directed towards your g-spot. Combined with the pulsing of his cock against your already tight, wet walls, you were a mess. Your core tightened, back arching. You were struggling to withhold as many noises as you could, though many moans, groans and whines filled his room, mixing with the loud slap of skin on skin from your lower halves.

You both felt the fire. Your walls were convulsing around his large shaft, while his cock throbbed, ready to explode. Your stomachs coiled, burning away quickly before the final snap. Taeyong’s trusts were growing sloppier, never one losing their edge. He kept pushing until he could no longer see straight, blinking rapidly to keep his sight clear.

He eventually collapsed forward, placing a determined kiss to your lips. The hug of your walls was too much for him, and his seed exploded out in strands of white. His cream painted your inner walls in heated juice, slowing thrusts allowing each milky strand to shoot out, coating every part of your pussy. The heat of his cum swirling around inside you made you own will break, one final clench of your stomach pushing your own release out. Your walls clung to him, juices leaking around him and mixing with his own droplets that spilled into you. Your core kept him tightly embraced, milking him until every last drop escaped.

With him still burrowed deep inside you, you pulled him into another his, arms wrapped around his neck and tangling through his hair., nails scratching at his scalp. The man let out a breath of relief from the orgasm he had, melting into the sultry kiss. His body nearly collapsed on yours, your bodies rocking against each other happily. Your skin stuck together from the sweat produced from the rigorous activities, but you never minded being close to this man.

You loved him.

And you never wanted to give him up.

You fell asleep in his arms that night, not caring to dress or clean up. You were content enough just being with him, a much-needed restful night shared after the successes you had that one day.

Decorated white shoes squeezed their way down the hall, destination engraved in the owner’s mind. As soon as he got the text, he didn’t need to be told where to go. It was too often he found himself headed in that way after practice or recording. It was like another home to him at this point. And when the door came into view, Taeyong couldn’t help but to smile widely, despite his confused curiosity of why he was facing the practice room.

Your practice room.

He expected to find you dancing when he walked in. He always did. And when you told him not to rush because you knew he was working on writing a new song for his upcoming solo album, he thought you would be passing the time in ways you knew how to - dancing to random songs and singing along in the same voice he fell in love with forever ago.

He was surprised to find you standing in the middle of the room, no music playing, and no shock on your face to see him walk in. You were waiting for him, grinning madly. He inwardly smiled at your appearance, the simple joggers and tank top matching with the shoes he designed for you that were wearing with age. It was nearing a year since you started wearing them and wearing them daily took their toll on the shoes.

His were the same way, after all.

You rocked back and forth, hands behind your back, waiting for him to enter and approach you. He did just as you thought, placing his bag down before making his way over to you. Arms instantly encircled your waist, your feet leaving the ground when he lifted you up. Your arms found their way around his neck, hugging him close and weaving your digits through the strands of hair on the back of his head without a second thought. His lips pressed to yours in a succulent embrace, keeping the kiss short but sweet.

“You rang, my sweet?” he teased, placing you down.

“I did. I’m glad you were able to come so quick too. Because I don’t know how long I could contain myself on this.”

Taeyong hummed at you, tracing his fingers along your sides. “So, something really good is happening then? Otherwise you wouldn’t be this excited about something.”

“Something great is happening,” you hummed. “Take a guess!”

The idol pouted. “You know I hate guessing games,” he pouted. “Just tell me, baby.”

“You’re such a spoil sport,” you huffed. “Well fine then. I had a meeting with Lee Soo Man today.”

“Oh? What happened?” he asked curiously.

“I’m getting to it! Calm down!” you teased. “You know how I’ve been a rookie for about a year now?”

“Yeah?”

“Well… I guess you can say I’m not a rookie anymore.”

Taeyong blinked one, then twice, before his smile grew, eyes twinkling with delight. “Wait. Are you saying what I think you’re telling me?”

“I don’t know. What are you thinking?”

“Are you…” he paused to wet his lips. “Are you going to be debuting with a group?”

You nodded happily, tears begging to prickle the corner of your eyes from overwhelming joy. His smile grew larger than you thought possible, picking you up and spinning around.

“Oh my god. You’re debuting?” he screamed. “You’re really debuting!”

“Yeah,” you cried, burying your head in his neck. Taeyong ceases his spins, hugging your koala-like form tightly to him. “I’m really debuting, Yong. I’m really an idol now.”

“I knew you could do it,” he whispered, not bothering to wipe his own tears of joy. “God, I’m so proud of you. I knew you would make it one day and look where you are now. You’re at the top, baby.”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you told him, moving your head and kissing him softly. “You kept me from never giving up. You encouraged me to be my best and I’m here because you believed in me.”

“It was all you, Y/N,” he mused, kissing you sweetly before placing you down. “You never gave up.”

“I owe it to the best man in the world knowing my worth and giving me that push though. I owe it to the best man for seeing himself in me and knowing I would regret everything if I gave up. I owe it to him for loving me and helping push me to be my best.”

“Don’t flatter me,” he joked.

“I meant Donghae.”

Taeyong blew a raspberry at you before speaking back up. “So, do I get any other details besides you are debuting? Like when? What position? Does your group have a name?”

“How about I give you a yes to everything,” you joked, tapping his nose.

“Well, out with it!”

“Impatient young man,” you laughed. “Well, I’m pleased to announce to you, and only you for now because I was allowed to share this with you, that I will be the main dancer and lead vocal for a new girl group,” you told him. Taeyong gaped.

“Really. That’s so-”

“That’s not all,” you cut him off with a smile. “I’m also the leader of said girl group.”

“Oh my god,” he let out. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N! But you’re not telling me the name. What is my beautiful girl going to be the leader of?”

You grinned, blushing brightly. “Well, it’s been in talks for a while, but I will be joining your family.”

He blinked. “Wha-”

“You are the leader of NCT 127. And I will be joining you as the leader of the new NCT girl subgroup - NCT G.”

He gaped, eyes growing wide. “You mean…”

“I’m joining the NCT family with you.”

He let out a low sob, hugging you close again. You clung to him, petting the back of his head as his face buried in your neck. “You’re doing it, baby.”

“I am, and I couldn’t ask for a better group to be part of.”

He faced you, wet tears along his cheeks. But his smile was vibrant. “Well, welcome to the family, Y/N. We’re glad to have you.”

You grinned, wrapping yourself in his embrace. “I’m glad to be with you guys, forever and always. I’m glad I can be by your side through all of this, Taeyong. But you know, if I’m glad about anything, I really am glad that I never gave up on this dream because if I did, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“Well, I’m never giving you up,” he joked.

“You better not.”

NCTzens Tag: @brien-odylan, @goldenmndes, @belleknows

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kerikaaria · 4 years

Text

If I Never Met You: Chapter 32

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff, some angst

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33

“Y/n noona, your phone is going off again,” Jungkook called from across the room.

“Is someone calling me?” you asked, too occupied at the moment to be able to check yourself.

“No, it looks like text messages,” Jungkook replied. “From your English-speaking friends.”

“I guarantee you that’s Jackson spamming me then,” you said, shaking your head.

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” Namjoon chimed in. “He was just texting me, telling me how he watched the showcase and how cool we are and stuff.”

You finished helping the other staff and walked over to Jungkook, who handed you your phone. You checked your messages while you had a moment to spare.

Jackson: (Y/n) (Y/n)! (Y/NNNNN)!!!! YO NOONA ANSWER ME 😡

Eric: Omg Jackson, I’m pretty sure she’s kinda busy 🙄

Jackson: They’re done with the show though, Namjoon even texted me!

Amber: Dude, that doesn’t mean you should spam the chat 🤣

Jackson: BUT BTS WAS SO AWESOME 😎 (Y/N) THEY WERE AMAZING! NOONAAAAAAAAAAA

Me: OMG I told you not to call me that. But yes, I’m fully aware that they’re awesome and cool and amazing.

Jackson: But you are my noona though

Me: We talk in English. It’s weird! 🤨

Peniel: Noona, why are you being so mean?

Me: Omg not you too… Eric, why did you introduce me to these bozos?

Eric: Hey, last I checked you liked these so-called bozos.

Kevin: Just admit you love us, (Y/n) 🥰

Me: You? Yes. Amber? Definitely. Eric? Sometimes. Jackson and Peniel? Debatable.

Amber: Awwww, I love you too! ❤😘

Kevin: (Y/n)’s Favorites Club application: accepted! 😇

Peniel: I give you my love and this what I get in return? I am offended. 😭

Eric: SOMETIMES?! 😤 Excuse you, who was it who brought you these amazing friends? And if my memory serves me correctly, you couldn’t stop gushing about how much you love my music when we met.

You shook your head, putting your phone away to focus on getting everyone ready to leave. Going to turn around, you got startled at Jungkook standing extremely close to you.

“I wish I understood English so I could tell what you were talking about,” he said.

“Why do you want to know about my private conversations?” you asked as you started gathering your things.

“Because,” the maknae replied, shrugging.

You shot him an unamused look. “’Because’ isn’t an answer. Stop being nosy,” you added teasingly.

Everyone finished getting everything packed up and ready to go and piled into the van, Sejin driving today.

Checking the group chat again once you were all settled in, you weren’t surprised to see that the conversation kept going on for quite a while. You scrolled through to read until the most recent messages.

Kevin: I watched the showcase, too. They really were awesome! Man, I can’t believe I’m going to be missing them on ASC again. 😔

Eric: Sucks to be you~ 😝

Peniel: Okay, but when am I going to get to meet them?

Jackson: Aren’t Sungjae and V buddies? You could ask him for help.

Peniel: Nah, dude. The kid keeps his friends from us as if we’d hurt them or something.

Me: I mean, I’m not entirely sure you WON’T. I know if I was him, I’d be scared of Changsub or Eunkwang embarrassing me to death in front of my friends.

Peniel: I mean… You’re not wrong. Those hyungs are… 🤔 interesting.

Amber: I think we gotta meet (Y/n) first! We still haven’t been able to meet up!

Me: Sorry, can’t help that we’ve been so busy ☹ We had a lot to prepare for their comeback when we got back to Korea.

Kevin: It’s okay, we understand!

Eric: Yeah. Didn’t you say something about some people quitting and you and the other manager needing to pick up some of the work they did?

Me: Ugh. Don’t remind me… The company has few enough employees as it is, that really did a number on us. Especially after us hardly being in the country for two months.

Jackson: Dude, that’s tough. But I know you can do it, noona! 🤩

Peniel: Noona, fighting! 🤗

Me: OMG STOP WITH THE NOONA THING.

You sat in your desk chair, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of you. You already finished everything you needed to handle today while Sejin and the boys were at a small fan meet. To be honest, you had finished an hour ago but had nothing else to do and so you just sat there, doing practically nothing.

I really need a life, you thought, realizing how bored you were without work to do or the boys around. You opened your phone, looking at the text you sent to the group chat with your other friends, but they must all be busy because no one had replied yet.

Turning to social media, you opened twitter to take a look at what the shipping fans had come up with for you today. You may get on Jin’s case about looking this stuff up, but to be honest you found it quite amusing yourself – which was also a big reason why he kept teasing you about it. He knew you didn’t actually hate it.

Looking through, you saw fans recently examined a still of Hobi with you in it from a Bangtan Bomb, and then a picture of me standing next to Namjoon when you were heading to a schedule.

But it looked like today, the popular ship was with him. You’d been trying to chalk things up to just the fact that you felt at ease with him. You’d been conveniently ignoring the times your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you with his smile, the times you felt heat rush to your cheeks when he hugged you without even thinking about it. But looking at this picture, it was one of those moments when you couldn’t find it in yourself to ignore what those things really meant.

A fan somehow managed to catch a very clear picture of the two of you, smiling at each other and looking really happy (no wonder why it was the popular opinion today). For a little bit, just a few moments, you let yourself believe that what these fans were saying could actually be true. That it wasn’t hopeless for you to have these strong feelings, that maybe it wasn’t impossible for him to feel these things too.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts quickly. There were so many things wrong with it. He wasn’t just someone you knew or your friend, he was your coworker. And he was an “idol.” It didn’t matter if Bang PD didn’t have anything against them having relationships, or even relationships between his employees, because you were on two completely different levels. It just cold never happen.

Pulling your head out of the daydream, you felt myself feeling sad looking at the picture now. It represented things you could only dream of. Yet, you still couldn’t stop yourself from saving the picture to your phone.

You just barely locked your screen when the door to the office opened and Sejin walked in with Jungkook. “Oh, you guys are back?” you asked.

“Yup, everything went well,” Sejin answered. “How about here? Anything I need to help with?

“Nope, I got everything done,” you replied. “Where are the other boys?”

“The hyungs are all at home,” Jungkook said. “I missed a vocal lesson earlier this week so I am going to that now.”

“Oh, okay. Are you going home after?” you asked.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything else to do other than that,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you so we can go home together,” you smiled.

“Oh wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you got everything done,” Sejin said. He had been double checking through everything that needed scheduled or checked through to make sure you hadn’t missed anything while you and Jungkook talked. “Thank you, I know the workload has been a bit intense lately.”

“It’s no problem,” you waved him off. “Now that we have the majority of their schedules in place for this comeback it’s not as bad as it was at first.” You stood up and walked over to Jungkook. “I’ll walk with you to your lesson. I could use a change of scenery. See you, oppa!”

After Jungkook’s vocal lesson, you walked out of the company together, both of you wearing masks. After the debacle with your personal pictures with the boys being shared with the fans, you were almost just as recognized by the fans as they were.

While you definitely weren’t treated the same (as in fans squealing and wanting attention from you), you still had to be careful when you were around them. He may be difficult to recognize with a mask, but if a fan recognized you they would most likely assume that the person you were with was one of the boys, and that was exactly what you didn’t want.

“Can we stop by the park before going home today,” Jungkook asked as you walked down the street. “I could use the fresh air and alone time.”

“Yeah, that’s no problem. It’ll be nice after being inside all day,” you replied. “But if you want alone time I could just go home.”

“No, you can stay,” he assured me. “I meant quiet time more than alone.”

“Alright, sounds good,” you said as you approached the nearby park. You walked in silence until Jungkook found a spot he liked and veered off the path to sit down in the grass.

This park was rather small, just a small nature reprieve among the city streets. It was simple with mostly trees and one little flower garden, but it was plenty when you needed to relax a bit.

The two of you sat, just listening to the leaves rustling in the wind for a while. It was Jungkook who broke the silence first.

“Noona?” he asked, almost in a whisper as if he was worried about bursting the bubble created around us.

“Yes, Kookie?” you asked just as quietly.

“Are you still happy you decided to stay working with us?” He stared at his hands sitting in his lap.

“What do you mean?” you tried to look at his face, hoping he’d look up and meet your gaze. “Why are you asking that?”

“It’s just,” he paused, sighing and laying down on the grass to look at the tree branches instead. “People can be really unfair, you know? You had all that trouble with Haewon last year, and now there are fans that are really harsh on you too.”

You knew the hate comments toward you existed, but generally they were far and few between and really easy to ignore so you paid them no mind. You were more concerned about hate directed toward the boys than yourself. “What’s bringing this on, Kookie? Did something happen?”

“I’m glad you weren’t at the meet today. It was really hard to hold back with some of the stuff we heard.”

You leaned back on your elbow to get a little closer to him before saying, “I thought Sejin said the meet went well?”

“It did, for the most part. We ignored the comments and made sure not to make a scene out of anything so it technically went fine. But noona, these fans didn’t know who was with us today. What if you were? It just… it wasn’t right, what they said.”

“Kookie, don’t let it get to you. Some of your fans just genuinely don’t like me, but that’s okay. Others may be jealous because they wish they could be as close to you as I am. And some of them take out that jealousy in anger. That’s okay, too. I don’t let it bother me and you shouldn’t pay any mind to it either, okay? And to answer your first question, yes. I’m still happy. I don’t regret anything I’ve done, especially when it comes to you guys.”

“Really? You’re really okay with all of that?”

“Yes. If that’s the price I need to pay in order to have you all in my life? That is more than worth it.” You lay down next to him, staring up at the same trees. “To be honest, I sometimes wonder where I would be, what I’d be doing if I hadn’t stayed. Or even if I didn’t apply for the job in the first place, if I hadn’t been lucky enough to meet Jin or maybe if I never came to Korea. There’s no way for me to know, but I can’t imagine that I’d be as happy as I am now. You guys mean the world to me and I feel so, so lucky to be able to call myself your friend.”

You turned to look at him, finding his gaze had already fallen on you. While his mask covered most of his face, you could tell from his eyes that he was smiling, and you smiled in return. “All I know is, I have no idea where I would be if I never met you guys, and I don’t want to know. If I were given the choice again, I would always pick to be here with you. Always.”

Series Masterlist

Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @leesalts @rjsmochii @overtherainbow35

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

34 notes · View notes

acescreations · 4 years

Text

Roleplay Transcript (pt. 1)

So this is an old roleplay I got permission from my RP partner to post to my writing blog. I guess revisiting this is kind of a birthday gift to myself and also an apology gift to all of you guys for not writing for shit.

Warnings: Fighting, swearing, violence, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, homophobia, panic attacks

Ship(s): Platonic Analogical

Word Count: 12,553

When Logan went to school on his first day of junior year, he was filled with a strange sense of pride. Students shot glances at him, seemingly worried that Logan would for some reason pick a fight with them, which he would only really do if they were being a jerk and deserved it. Teachers read his name off the attendance list with a hopeless tone upon realizing they had Logan, before looking up with a disappointed resignation when they saw Logan's patch of electric blue hair. Logan had built up a reputation of being strong, of being tough. Just about every kid in school knew about him, whether they be the bullies he fought, the kids he was defending from the bullies, or just the people who saw the fights he was in.

Virgil’s first day at Mindset High was pretty scary. He didnt make friends easily, and he felt like everyone was judging him. He wore a soft lavender hoodie and royal purple sweat pants. Everyone seemed scared of this guy called Logan. I mean, he seemed so grumpy.. He sighed, sitting next to Logan.

Logan blinked in surprise as he watched another student sit down next to him. Most people tried to avoid him as much as possible, so he usually sat alone during class. Even when there were only enough desks for each student in the classroom, people usually pulled their desk a distance away after even the slightest glance from Logan. He guessed this kid sitting next to him hadn't heard of his reputation yet. Well, unfortunately for him, the two were in Logan's least favorite class: history. The class that Logan now associated with whitewashed nationalist propaganda, and arguing with the teacher.

Virgil decided that he would at least get to know this strange man that everyone seemed so.. reluctant to like？ “Uh, hello, I’m.. well, if.. I’m Virgil.” He said tamely, he hoped that they could.. maybe talk？A friend would be nice.

Logan looked over at Virgil with an even, if not cold, expression. That wasn't a name he recognized, so this was probably a new student, which explained why they were actually talking to him. "Logan," he said shortly. They'd learn soon enough that Logan was someone you didn't want to be associated with if you want to have even just a neutral social standing.

Virgil nodded nervously. The dude seemed to be angry at him？Did he provoke him？Should he move seats？ He sighed as he looked down at his work.

Logan put his feet up on the table in front of him, pulling out his phone as he waited for the teacher to, as he put it, "begin his attempt at brainwashing a class of impressionable teenagers."

“Today we shall learn about the history of people that.. well.. people who.. the homosexuals.. and.. others.” Virgil was completely stunned, before immediately grtting dissapointed. “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” He mumbled.

"Oh hell no," Logan said out loud. Literally everyone in the room probably already guessed about Logan not being straight, so he didn't have anything to lose from being vocal about his distaste over the lesson. "Oh, FUCK no." Underneath his iwn complaining, however, he heard Virgil's much more quiet complaint. Okay, so this guy is actually pretty chill. That's good to know. By "chill" Logan meant "not a smallminded conservative" but those pretty much meant the same thing to him.

Virgil sighed. “This.. is fine.” He said. He was a closeted gay boy, he didnt need this. “Now, this shall be respectful..” The teacher rolled her eyes. “Now, what do we know about.. you know.. those people.”

Logan heard what Virgil said, but to him, this most certainly was not fine. He had already picked his battles, and he picked all of them. "If it's gonna be respectful then why don't you just say the word 'Gay'?" he yelled at the teacher.

The class went dead silent. Virgil sighed softly. If someone found out he was gay, he would die on the inside. “Well, as you all know, the bible said that homosexuals.. will rot in hell.”

"FALSEHOOD!" Logan screamed, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. "Respectful my ass! And how is this even history?!" Logan would go on, but if he's learned anything from the debate team, it's to let people keep saying stupid shit for Logan to prove wrong.

“Homosexuality is a diease. Now, now more recent years, we have homosexuality shoved down our throats. This is causing more parents to force their children to be gay. This all started because a black trans-” “Please stop talking..” Virgil groaned, tempted to just bash his head into the table.

"Gayness is NOT a disease," Logan said, smacking his hand on the table as he began talking over the teacher. "It's a human characteristic just like height or eye color. Gayness is NOT being 'shoved down our throats,'" he smacked the table again, "people are just getting introduced to labels they didn't originally have. Parents are NOT forcing their children to be gay-" smack "- most are actually beating and throwing their children out of their homes for being gay. But you know what? You just keep talking. Maybe one of these days you'll actually say something intelligent."

“You come from a biased pretense！You only see the side of the homosexuals, thats why you are one of the-” “OH, FOR FUCKS SAKE, CHANGE THE GOD DAMN SUBJECT YOU-” “Damn pastel！Didnt know you could speak.” A guy called out.

Logan immediately turned and shot a glare at the person who insulted Virgil, forgetting the current feud with the teacher for a moment. "If you're going to waste oxygen like that, at least keep it relevant to the conversation." Logan then turned back to the teacher. "You're the fucking biased one, you homophobe!" he shouted, pointing a finger at the teacher as he leaned nearly halfway across the table to yell at him.

“I am not a homophobe！I like.. the lesbians.” The teacher smirked, as Virgil began to laugh. Hes just,, this teacher, how did you get a job？ ”Fine. We will move onto a differ-”

For once in his life, Logan is so stunned by by what he's hearing reaches a loss for words. "How did you even get your teaching degree, you fucking creep?"

“I try to act respectful, and you insult me？I think people like you just stir up drama to draw attention to yourself.” Virgil had stopped laughing. He felt.. guilty. He shouldnt have laughed. Maybe the teacher was right？

Logan went completely silent, his hands curling into fists. "Don't. You. Ever. Generalize me. Like that." Then, to make sure he didn't try to physically fight his teacher, he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Virgil watched Logan leave, watched everyone whispering about how freaky Logan was. How gay he was.. Virgil stayed quiet and refused to speak to anyone.

Logan stormed down the hallway, absolutely fuming. He ended up in the school's gym, knowing there wasn't a gym class that period. He let out a shout of frustration as he punched a wall, which hurt, obviously, but it satisfied him and let out some of his anger. After that he just stood there, fist against the wall, breathing heavily.

Virgils scheduele was lost, so he asked around for his next class. They led him to the schools gym, and left him there, lost and confused. Time to make an unlikely friend.

Logan had since moved to sit on the bleachers, glancing up to glare as Virgil entered the gym. He was currently in a mindset that nobody would be friendly towards him, especially right now.

Virgil felt the glare, but sighed. He did promise Patton to make one friend at this god forsaken hell hole. He slowly walks up to Logan. “Uhrm, hi？”

"What do you want?" Logan growled. He recognized that this was the person who was sitting beside him in history, but he still felt like he'd antagonize Logan anyway. Most people did anyway.

He gave Logan a weak smile. “A..Are you okay？” He tilted his head. ”And where is the rest of our class？” He expected at least one othed person to come in. Poor thing.

"I'm fine," Logan snapped defensively, in a counter-productive attempt at convincing Virgil that that was actually true. "And there isn't a class in here right now." Logan didn't have a gym class at all. He was actually skipping a class right now, but it wasn't like his teacher would miss him anyway.

“Oh..” He stammered, looked down at the floor guiltily. “Do you know where S7 is？” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And.. wait. Why arent you in class.. oh.”

Logan sighed as he stood up. "Yeah, come on." He gestured for Virgil to follow him with a small shrug of a shoulder.

Virgil smiled. “Thank you, Logan.” He said softly, following behind him, glad that Logan would do this for him.

Logan shrugged as he began leading Virgil to his classroom. "Whatever," he muttered. Whatever it took to get himself his alone time in the gym. He doubted it would do Virgil's social reputation much good to see him with Logan, though.

“To be honest, that ass of a teacher really should be fired. What kind of creep just likes lesbians？” He tried to make small talk.

"Basically the entire American public does, actually." Logan was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, but it wasn't like he was wrong, he thought.

“oh.. well.. thats..” Virgil sighed. “Why were you there alone instead of hanging out with friends？” He seemed rather done.

Logan glanced back at Virgil, although he didn't stop walking. "Because there are classes going on right now," Logan said. It was true, although Logan wasn't hanging out with friends because he didn't have any. He just wasn't going to tell Virgil that.

“Dont you have a badass like, gang？Like everyone says？” He tilted his head, very confused. “Oh.. are you.. uh..” He was genuinely confused.

"A gang?" Logan said in mild surprise and disbelief. That was seriously what people said about him? Logan guessed he underestimated his own reputation.

“Yeah. Also, apparently you dont like when people steal your role, so you are going to beat my ass. If you are, then I guess do it here.” He has no fear for death anymore. This school sucked any hope of caring out of him.

"What exactly do people say my role is then?" Logan hadn't intended on carrying on a conversation for this long, or really at all, but he couldn't help but be curious as to what people said about him.

He stared up at the sky, he really didnt want to say this. Dear god, please strike him with lighting. Oh, no lighting？F- “You’re the bad boy that all the girls swoon over. Apparently you’re soft and sweet on the inside.” He scoffed slightly. His defense is up.

Logan stiffened as he continued walking, gagging a little. That was it. It was official. Logan hated his reputation. He supposed he'd have to work harder on establishing his reputation as being stone cold and heartless. He wasn't going to stop picking fights with bigots though, he knew that much. "Well, here's your class," he said to Virgil, stopping in front of a classroom before immediately turning go back to the gym instead of the class he had that period.

“Thanks Logan.” He gave him a weak grin. “Logan Man, Fighting off bigots day after day.” He scoffed, before it turned to a light giggle, and Virgil went into class. What a dork. A nice dork.

Logan glanced back as he walked off, turning back after Virgil walked into class. As he neared the gym again, he glanced down at his left knuckles. After punching the wall, they became red and sore, and Logan was starting to regret punching the wall. His hand still stung.

This is why you dont start a war on walls, you idiot. Virgils class exprience was.. intresting. They made up rumors about him and Logan, and Virgil wanted to vomit. Love always made him feel weird and uncomfortable, but hes absolutely sure hes just gay.

Logan sat back down in the gym bleachers. He didn't know what he was doing back here instead of going to class. He guessed he pretty much didn't want to hear whatever his classmates would say about him. That was actually the first time he stormed out in the middle of class like that, and he assumed that was what people would be talking about right now.

They began to gossip about Logan having a girlfriend, boyfriend, and then him being in a gang. Now they all think Logans a fucking gang leader. Good luck talking to anyone, Logie.

After sitting in the gym with nothing to do for a while, Logan stood back up and headed to the band room. That was where he usually went when he wanted alone time, the gym had just been closer that time. As he walked down, he realized that being a musician probably contributed to people thinking he's "soft and sweet on the inside" but fuck it. Music is probably the reason he doesn't throw hands with every mildly unpleasant person in his vicinity.

Virgil cant stop laughing at the pure idiocity, wanting to just record this and send it to Logan... Eh, later. Once he befriends Logan. He nods to himself as the bell rung. Now he could go find Logan！And hang out with him！

Logan had just reached the band room by the time the bell rang. "God dammit," he said loudly. Now he'd have to choose between letting out some energy and missing another class. Logan sat down behind the drumset in the room, pulling out his phone and earbuds. He figured his teacher wouldn't miss him, and really, who cares if the teacher calls his house? Who gives a shit? Certainly not him. So he put on a pair of fingerless gloves he kept with him, turned on his music, and played along to American Idiot.

Virgil was going to class, but heard... music？He quietly walks towards the sounds, peering in. They had a music room？！ Logan plays music？！ He quietly attempted to sneak in, to be able to hear better. He ended up tripping into a guitar, miraculously not breaking it.

Most people would've heard Virgil tripping as he snuck in, but not only was Logan listening to really loud music, but he was also playing a really loud instrument. But really, neither of those things meant much, because Logan was in The Zone. It would take a lot to break his focus.

Virgil was extremely impressed. Logan really was in the mood. He sat on the floor, just admiring the music.

Logan looked up once the song had ended, quickly pulling out his earbuds and jolting upwards once he saw Virgil sitting there. "What the hell are you doing here?"

“...Uhhhhh, I thought this was the cafeteria？Nice pl-playing.” He quickly stood up, immediately smackin into a cupboard and just sighing softly.

"Of course this isn't the fucking cafeteria, do you see any tabl-" Logan went quiet for a moment when he saw the knocked over guitar. He practically threw himself over the drumset as he ran to check on the guitar, because despite the fact that the school technically owned all of the instruments, that was Logan's Guitar. "The fuck did you do?!" Logan shouted as he checked the guitar over for any damage.

He quickly stood up. “See-ing a-as this isnt the cafeteria, I-I’m going to-” He began to speed for thr door.

Logan looked back up once he was sure his guitar was alright. Once he saw Virgil heading for the door, it occurred to him what he had just done. "I, I didn't mean to snap," he said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head as he looked away from Virgil. This new body language was a complete change from how he usually acts.

Virgil paused, reluctantly rubbing the back of his neck. “U-Uh, oh, ok-okay. I’m.. I’m sorry. You.. You clearly werent..” All words just seemed to die in his mouth.

Logan sighed as he stood back up. "Whatever, just, try not to knock any instruments over, okay?" Logan mumbled as he began walking past Virgil out the door. Okay, so he didn't mumble, but compared to how clearly he normally speaks he might as well have been.

"Thank you, L-Logan." He stammered. He didnt move, just awkwardly standing there. "O-Oh, uh, of course.. Uh, can I sit with you at lunch?" He managed through jumbled stammering.

Logan glanced back at Virgil as he walked out, trying to understand the logic of wanting to be around somebody who just yelled at you for something that wasn't intentional. Logan was hoping it wasn't anything like Logan being nice, because if Logan was the nicest person Virgil knew, well that's just sad. "Sure, whatever." Logan shrugged. He didn't actually know if he was actually going to stay until lunch, since he had been planning on leaving for the rest of the day. He shrugged at himself as he left the band room. Logan supposed he'd find out by lunch.

Virgil just followed after him, quietly. Hey, Logans the nicest guy here at this hell hole of a school, Well, the nicest guy he has met. He looks around, feeling awkward. Oh god. Why is he bothering Logan. He doesnt want you here. Just leave. "Uh-"

Logan attempted to continue walking as normal, despite the ever present awareness of Virgil following him. After all, by the looks of this kid, he's definitely harmless. Although after a while it became hard to ignore the little lost puppy of Virgil. "What are you following me for?" Logan asked over his shoulder. "Don't you have a class or something?" Honestly, how is anyone supposed to let out some steam when someone is following them everywhere?

Virgil flinched. "uh.. yeah.. sure.." He mumbled, and he quickly left. He didnt know why he cared so much. Oh wait, yes he did. Because he wanted Logan's friend. Why? Because he found Logan cool.

Logan sighed once Virgil left. He didn't really know why. Was he disappointed? Logan actually thought he might be. That was probably the longest anyone had ever voluntarily been around him, after all. Either way, Logan still had no idea what to do at this point, especially considering that if he left before school ended he'd definitely have to deal with the consequences soon enough.

Virgil headed off into the bathroom. He just needed somewhere to stay calm, and clear his head. Everything just made him feel horrible. He quietly locked himself into a stall, keeping himself quiet.

Logan leaned against a wall in the hallway, getting out his phone as he debated his options. If he left school now, Virgil wouldn't have to worry about his mistake of wanting to be around him during lunch, but his mom would be pissed if she found out he didn't even stay half of the day. But if he stayed and went to class, he'd half a lot of pent up anger with him during class, and his home had probably already been called due to him not having made it to this class period, so he'd still probably hear about it anyway.

Virgil calmed himself down, and went back outside. He looked around, wondering if Logan was still around. He.. He hoped so. He is not going to that hell hole alone.

Logan sighed as he put his phone away, finally heading to class. He was pretty sure that it was the world's most stupid desicion for Virgil to want to be anywhere near him, but as a new kid who clearly had no idea how to survive in this school, he probably wouldn't be very safe if he was alone during lunch.

Virgil quietly sighed, deciding to go to class. He hid his eyes with his hair. He slunk into the back of the class, trying to keep away from everyone.

Logan managed to keep himself from throwing hands for the rest of his morning class, heading down to the lunchroom afterwards. He stood against a wall and watched people enter without personally eating.

Once that hellish excuse for a class was done, Virgil quietly found Logan and walked up to him. “Uh, hi.”

Logan looked over at Virgil, honestly kind of surprised that he committed to his decision to spend the lunch period with Logan. "Hey," he said briefly, looking back across the room.

He gave him a pathetic grin, trying to not be awkward, but the boy radiates awkward. “Uh, uhm, er, hi.” He began to play with his hands, biting his lip.

"You don't talk to people much, do you?" Logam didn't look back at Virgil as he spoke. Was he hoping Virgil would decide Logan actually was unpleasant to be around and leave? Yeah, Logan thought he was.

“N-Not really.” He mumbled, not moving, copying Logans pose. He wasnt exactly enjoying the people staring at him, but hes happy having a friend.

Logan's surprise grew as Virgil started copying him. He didn't know why, but that was really unexpected. "Aren't you going to eat or something?" Logan was determined to not let his surprise, or really any other emotion, show.

Virgil shook his head, deciding a verbal response wasnt worth it. Plus, the food looked like slop. He fidgetted with his hands, trying to spark a conversation.

Logan glanced over at Virgil, trying to figure out what to do in this situation. God, this kid is making me more awkward just by being around me. It's a wonder he's survived this long.

Virgil thought about his family. His family sucked. It would be nice to know what raised that hardcore lad. “Uh... Whats your family like？” He said softly. God fUcking damn it, Virgil. You cant ask about anything N O RM A L-

The change in Logan's posture was immediate. His back straightened, his shoulders became more squared, his hands tightened into fists. "Why do you care?" Logan's voice was cold and hard as knives.

Virgil shrunk back, his eyes wide. “I-I dont know？I’m just trying to make conversations..” He trailed off, going silent. Wait. Why was Logan caring so much. “Oh god, are you an orp-”

Logan scoffed at that second comment, giving Virgil the slightest shake of his head and somehow managing to make those small actions violent and angry. I wish I was that lucky.

Virgil flinched. He felt his heart race at those angry movements. “Uh, er.. sorry.” Virgil practically sped off, he feels sick.

Logan turned and watched him go. If he were in any other mood, he'd probably feel bad for scaring Virgil like that. But right now he didn't even care, he simply turned back to glare at the rest of the people in the room.

The whispers of the room continued, questioning Logan and why he doesnt like his family

Logan didn't say anything to anyone, although when he heard someone talking about him he'd shoot a glare at them to get them to shut up.

The cafeteria was awkward and quiet. Nobody wanted to talk to Logan, or get beaten up.

Eventually Logan got tired of the stares and went back to the gym. He would've went to the band room, but there was a class there at the time, so he had to go with the next best thing.

Virgil was sitting behind the bleachers, desperately trying to calm himself. Logan hates him. Everyone hates him. He hates this hell-hole of a school.

Logan didn't notice Virgil as he came in, walking over to a padded part of the wall so he could punch it and not hurt himself again. He punched the wall, then drew his hand back and punched again, and again, and again. He hated his mother. He hated every single boyfriend she had ever had. He hated this school. He hated that he was always alone. He hated that this one time somebody actually wanted to be around him, he was determined to scare them off. He hated everything right now.

The punches just terrified Virgil even more. Oh great. Now a murderer was after him. He let out a strangled gasp, as his world began to spin round, making Virgil shake.

Logan paused when he heard the gasp behind him. He turned and finally noticed Virgil behind him, and of course it was only after he started panicking. Logan stood there, trying to figure out if he should go try to help, considering he was probably the thing causing Virgil to panic and being closer might just make it worse.

He couldnt breathe. The gasps became more frequent. Fuck. Hes gonna die here. Hes gonna die alone. Jesus this is getting sad.

Soon enough, Logan decided on walking over, kneeling down in front of Virgil. It wasn't like he was getting any better without Logan interacting. "Hey, Virgil?" Logan started in the most even voice he could produce. "I'm gonna need you to calm down, can you do that? Just focus on breathing." Fuck, is this what you're supposed to do? Logan honestly didn't have a clue, but from what he did know about panic attacks this seemed like an appropriate response.

Virgil trembles, before his blood stopped. Logan. “I-I’m sorry！I’m sorry！I-I-I-I...” He hears that Logans hear to help. “I-I cant- I-I’m a failure！”

Upon hearing Virgil's words, Logan's hands curled into fists. He was immediately ready to fight on behalf of someone he didn't even know. Then Logan reminded himself that right now, fighting was not in fact going to help. He took a deep breath, forcing his hands to relax again before continuing to talk to Virgil. "No, you're not a failure, there's no need to be sorry." Logan slowly reached out and took one of Virgil's hands in his own, checking for his reaction.

Virgil jolted, scramming away, apologizing. “I said- I said sorry！P-Please.. Leave me alone.” He sobbed. “I-I-I-” He felt his throat constrict.

Logan quickly pulled his hands away from Virgil, feeling guilt like a stab in his gut. This was all because of him, wasn't it? Maybe he should just leave, Virgil did tell Logan to leave him alone, didn't he? And Logan was pretty sure he just made it worse because he had no idea how to help, so Virgil would probably be better off if Logan left him alone.

Virgil whimpers, god hes so pathetic. Such a useless person. “Pathetic.. Useless..” He mumbled softly, looking away from Logan. The attack was beginning to die down, but he wouldnt be calm for a while.

Logan opened his mouth, about to correct Virgil on what he was saying about himself, but then he hesitated, and soon closed his mouth again. Logan looked down at the floor as he slowly stood back up and left, his endgoal being the doors leading out of the school. Logan officially decided he was done with being around people for a good while. Logan easily ignored the stares of the people in the halls. Most people took one look at Logan's overall demeanor and knew not to stare, so Logan was able to get out the school doors without even being interuppted.

Virgil made sure to keep close to Logan. He felt so guilty, he can’t believe he was so stupid. He had to have Logan come help him from a panic attack！All he is, is a panicky, clingy, failure.

Logan sighed and turned around as he got outside the door, facing Virgil. "Don't you have something better to do? Like class or something?" Logan was trying not to snap, especially since Virgil had just gotten out of a panic attack, but his voice was still harsh. Logan just wanted an escape from people, and now this little lost puppy of a person was becoming the first and only obstacle to that.

He kept his mouth shut. He felt so awkward. Like he owed Logan and apology. For seeing that. For seeing how much of a mess he was.. Yeah, he left soon after Logan spoke.

Logan walked away from the school after that, although he didn't really know where he was going. All he really knew at the time was that he wanted to escape from people, despite the fact that he didn't know where he could go that didn't have people. Logan ended up going over to the park, deciding that the park would have the least amount of people. After a while Logan had calmed down enough to tolerate human connection again, and walked down to the local café, because despite its black color, the fabric of Logan's jacket did little to protect him from the cold. He almost smiled as he walked through the door of the café, looking at the pride flag sticker on the window. Logan sat down in a booth, although since he was a regular the staff weren't expecting him to order anything.

Virgil was nervous. He had gotten lost on his way home, and was walking down to a cafe. He was hungry, after all. He looked at his phone, cringing at its dead battery. But he managed to smile. Today started off great, at least. Logan was.. his friend？Well, he seemed to begin to tolerate Virgil. And hes fine with that. He ordered a cup with a long list of ingredients. His own list of “Fuck me up” ingredients.

Logan didn't notice Virgil walking in. He had started dozing off in his seat when a waiter walked over, giving him a plate of eggs and toast. "It's on the house. You look like you could use it," they said with a smile as they left the table. They were right about that; Logan hadn't eaten all day. Logan glanced back over, guilt weighing down his shoulders as he began eating. He glanced over at his phone as he ate. The only reason it wasn't dead was because he was at the table with the outlet. That was basically His Table and both the visitors and staff knew this. Once Logan finished eating, he put his head atop his hand and began dozing off again. The poor kid hadn't slept well in ages.

The waitress did NOT look happy that Virgil had such a long list, but, he paid and ordered it, so she had to. When he asked for an outlet seat, he was pointed into Satan- I mean, Logans direction. “Oh, hi Logan.” Virgil said softly, holding his head phone.

Logan was partially asleep at the time, although he had trained himself to not fall asleep entirely, so when he heard his name he was immediately awake and alert. He put his arm down on the table as he looked at Virgil. "Hey," he said shortly, realizing that this was the kid from school, which meant school was over. Logan hadn't really been paying attention.

“Uh, Uhmm...” He felt really awakward.. Was there any other outlet booths？Logan looked like he would murder Virgil if he sat there.

Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil, drumming his fingers against the table. Honestly, if there was anywhere that he was least likely to murder someone, it was that café. It was quite honestly the most comfortable place he had ever been in, and he wasn't about to throw that away by getting into a fight.

Virgil looked away. They say, if you look Logan in the eye, you’ll turn into stone. “Sorry. I’ll just take the bus.” Yes. The bus. That he has no.clue about. Tbh, If I were Virgil？I’d rather walk.

Logan stared at Virgil. What the hell was he talking about? "We don't have a bus." Did Virgil just move here? Also why was he talking about a bus inside a café? What the hell was his train of thought?

Transfer student. Yes, he did just move here. Thats.. Thats kinda why he wasnt as fearful of Logan. ”Oh.” He said simply. “Fu-”

Logan sighed in confusion as he looked away from Virgil, bringing up his hand again to set his head on and closing his eyes. He didn't have any sort of obligation to interact with Virgil, so if he wasn't going to actually say anything then Logan was going to try to stock up on light sleep.

“ck.” He sighed. He awkwardly shuffled into the booth, just wanting to charge his phone, man.

Logan opened his eyes again, having expected Virgil to just stand awkwardly or leave. He glanced at the coffee Virgil had as he sat down, reading the ingredient label. "That's incredibly unhealthy for you." Logan didn't know why he was starting conversation when he could be sleeping, but he was aware of how much Virgil's coffee could fuck someone up.

“Eh. Nobody really cares.” He took a sip, waiting for his phone to do him a favour and charge. One percent, and the most aggressive spam of messages blasts through his phone. “Oh. I’m popular today.” He muttered. Of course, his parents had guests today. They had to pretend they cared.

Logan watched the phone screen as the messages showed up on the screen. Honestly he was pretty surprised by the spam, he barely ever got any messages, and he definitely didn't remember the last time his mom texted him. She generally saved her barrage of harassment for when they were face-to-face. He genuinely didn't think whatever the messages were about could be good.

They werent. They were degrading messages about his intelligence. “Ah！My mom.. uh, says that.. I gotta go.. God, shes so kind.” He made a convincing act. “See you, Punk.” He gave him a pathethically weak smile. He had no way home. Sadness hours.

Logan didn't believe the act for a second. Everything he read on that screen were things he could practically hear his mother saying to him, and "kind" wasn't even the last word he'd use to describe her. Nonetheless, he understood the need to get home. Logan sighed at the smile. Honestly it was kind of sad. "You don't know where you're going, do you?" Logan asked, deadpan. Seeing how lost Virgil was in school, the entire town probably seemed like an actual maze to him.

Virgil flinched at the deadpan tone. “Ah, well, uhrm, yeah..” He muttered, allowing his bangs to cover his eyes. “I’ll find my way home, I dont need a gang member to escort me.” He muttered, a bit of a bitter tone in his voice. He doesnt know why he said that. Maybe to drive Logan away？But he adored Logan！Logan was so cool.. God damn, you stalker, stop thinking about him！ “...sorry.” He muttered, getting up.

Logan sighed and looked away. Gang member. Is that really how people saw him? He only meant to scare off jerks and bigots, and he honestly wanted to be supportive of basically anyone who got picked on or bullied. Apparently those people couldn't trust him either. He knew he couldn't be surprised though, nobody in their right mind would trust somebody who got so angry they had to punch a wall to feel just a little better. "Whatever," Logan muttered. "I just hope you know that everyone's gonna assume you're queer now." Logan jabbed a finger towards the pride flag sticker he had looked at on the way in.

The look of sheer terror as he saw the said flag was hilarious. He had tried his best to act like a straight guy. “I’m straight.” He mumbled. “Uhm, are you gay, Logan？”

Logan almost laughed at what was to him an obvious lie. Almost. "I think I'm as straight as you are." Straight as a rainbow, that is.

Virgil looked afraid. But then again, when hes with Logan... Wait. Beforehand, Virgil wasnt scared or worried. Aww！You turned someone who, rather blindly, trusted you, against you！But isnt that what you do best, Logan？

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #roleplay #logan sanders #virgil sanders #punk logan #pastel virgil #tw fighting #tw swearing #tw violence #tw verbal abuse #tw emotional abuse #verbal abuse #emotional abuse #tw homophobia #TW panic attack

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