#being stuck in a wall seems like fun...
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unproduciblesmackdown · 9 months ago
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youtube
skinamarble hornets, i was like i hope my favorite skinamascene has been uplomarinked on youtube....reminds me of that season one marble hornets entry that's the First House Visit and how i saw it described somewhere as like "absolutely nothing happens, & it's terrifying" & it reminds me of the torment of watching as the series was released & Every Time something came out, no matter what happened in like setting, atmosphere, plot, scares, there'd be someone going "ugh another Nothing entry" over the most crucial &/or enjoyable shit so long as it didn't feature [& he's cookin hot dogs on the stove???] & didn't feature it like every other minute for good measure. as though a format that is predictable, like the promise of the same kind of scene in the same intervals of timing, would actually be scary or at all interesting. shoutout to these the entries, or even intervals of time within entries, where "absolutely nothing happens" and it's called suspense in knowing it Could, tension in an unsafe, uneasy, unsettling situation in the meantime, & then also potential followup recontextualization that only creates more tension for later similar material. ("absolutely nothing" happens (of course, actually, things happen, but) in the skinamarink scene save for the literal last few seconds when the "jumpscare" is a very brief change in audio & visuals which is neither actually that loud nor like showing anything scary(tm) (technically a la marble hornets i think people say you can like see an arm extend for a nanosecond but i never catch it if so lol) but rather hits at all because of 8 minutes of suspense & tension & Nothing Happening But It Could) (also bravely standing up like "it's fine that skinamarink has some jumpscares, including the obvious few even jumpier than this" like who cares if it's "easy" necessarily & also that Knowing such startlement can happen ramps up the tension even when it didn't, but it could've. like so)
#finally some Yeah Yayyy (horror i've seen that wasn't [all the stuff where at this point i may as well not even say i like horror])#i kind of do in the sense that i go Wheee at enjoyable [aaa tension aaa gripping the handlebars] like so. & some ppl don't#& that the genre can obviously express fun interesting things. skinamarink e.g. is one of the really few things where like#plenty of people can go ''so my avg tuesday as a four year old'' Like Me when you really don't see it portrayed well hardly at all#other like ''oh nooo the experience of child abuse'' in horror or in Anything is like. head in hands scream (not in a good way)#this has both the like often literal physical perspective of small children. the metaphorical perspective of small children#(like even if one's parents were Fine & not as much an omnipotent haunting temperamental presence either awol or insistently toying w/you#were you not likely stuck in a Living Space unless & until whichever adult you were landed with; tossup re: malice levels towards you;#decided to bring you out of it (or you had Official Transit somewhere like for school) & Even Then. stuck living with adult guardian#until legal adulthood anyways which Is literal multiple [live your Entire Life over again]s away when you're very small. & even then like#people generally can't actually up & Escape the instant they're eighteen. but anyways the One Zillion Years [Killing You] Loop applies#metaphorically. & the [Killing You] Loop Just B/c Someone Can applies to plenty of situations ppl aren't four but still lack power#anyways re: this specific clip my favorite element probably of this favorite scene are the perfectly quiet Technically Unthreatening audio#where the seeming parent voice is not Loud but is suddenly a) inexplicably close by & b) too Almost playful already#almost singsong; feeling just a tiny bit too slow. like that makes it Intrusive in this way & entirely unsettling & ominous lol. dissonant#& aptly resonates with [yeah i've had similar very young nightmaresque scenarios. about being called by parent figures]#apt when it's like & yeah growing up in the heck dimension trying to deal by fending for yourself or nervously catering to the entities#is like yes it's obviously The Horrors & it's also The Comedy (enough of the same thing)#also apt when the inspiration & evoked Experience is meant to be truly surreal. dream formatting#limited visuals in scope & depth & clarity; moving from one place or view to another without usual Logics of progression there. yolo#next favorite bit is the very end. avoiding having faces shown so much & then one as the only thing you see but very out of focus#and then nothing happens lol thee end. but you hold your breath peel off the armrests anyways! phone bit is great too. efficient#anyways still a hater over MH complainers ''ohh nothing happened oohh more trees'' like yeah yeah i'm sure you could pare it down#i'm sure you could pare down [looking at a wall] shots in skinamarink but who cares. It's Fine As Is & shaving it down risks ruining it#Youtube
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burntheedges · 2 months ago
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it's alright, darlin'
Joel Miller x f!reader | 4.1k | 18+ | masterlist | ao3
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summary: so, getting trapped in an elevator with the hot contractor you've seen around the office was not on your to-do list for today... but maybe it's just what you needed.
a/n: this is my entry for @toomanystoriessolittletime's 47 minutes in heaven challenge! it was fun to write Joel again but now I feel like I'm fighting him off with a stick (it's Din's turn!!). thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!!
tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, stuck in an elevator, reader works in an office building (no specifics), reader has a panic attack and is afraid of elevators, reader says she's not good with small spaces and heights, breathing exercises, no outbreak or pre-outbreak?, you decide, pet name (darlin', gorgeous, honey), reader wears pants and is mentioned to wear a black dress, reader sits in Joel's lap, smut: kissing, grinding, fingering, some dirty talk
...
When the elevator doors closed with only you and him inside, you tensed.
When the whole thing shuddered and came to a stop, somewhere between floors 8 and 9, you knew you were fucked. 
You’d seen him for the first time a couple of weeks before — he was with the group that was renovating the offices on the other side of your floor. He’d been standing with his back to you, arms crossed, talking to another man and sometimes gesturing at a wall. It seemed like they disagreed about something. 
You’d noticed him immediately — broad shoulders, strong arms, hair you wanted to bury your fingers in. Slim hips with a tool belt slung across them. Then he’d turned around and, well. 
He was gorgeous. Tan skin, warm brown eyes, even under his furrowed brow (they really were arguing about something). A scruffy beard. He was so much your type, so attractive, that you almost walked into the open door to the break room. 
He didn’t see you, thank god, but the other guy did. When you looked back up after catching yourself before you face planted, he was grinning at you. He winked at you over the gorgeous man’s shoulder. You felt your entire body turn hot and you ran. 
And that had only been the beginning. 
You were in a hurry, searching through your bag for your ID to swipe into the building, barely looking where you were going, when you bumped into him for the second time.
Literally bumped into him.
You weren’t sure exactly what happened, but you went from walking forwards to almost falling without even noticing anything in between. Suddenly you were sideways, on your way down, and the only thing holding you up was two big strong hands, firmly supporting your elbows. 
You reached out to steady yourself and as you looked up, you realized it was him. The absurdly hot contractor who was working on your floor. 
And your hands were flat against his chest while his held you in place. 
He started to smile and you felt your face start to burn.
“Shit,” you said, wincing. “Sorry, did I just walk into you?”
He was really smiling, then. “No, that’s alright. I think we just happened to walk into each other.” His voice was warm and deep and his accent made you shiver. 
You squinted at him, pretty sure he was full of shit. “If you say so. Um, thank you, for–” You looked down and saw that he was definitely holding you up. You stood straighter. “For catching me, I guess.”
“Oh, anytime, darlin’. My pleasure,” he said, lightly squeezing your arms and then releasing them. You realized your hands were still on his chest and dropped them like they’d been burned. 
You might have actually talked to him, then, but your coworker had called your name from behind you and you’d taken the out, scurrying away like an embarrassed rat.
(You didn’t look back, or you would have seen him watching you go.)
The third time, you were in your office, focused on a spreadsheet. You had your legs folded underneath you in a way that you knew looked ridiculous in your desk chair, and you were hunched forward, squinting at the screen. You were going to find that error, damnit. 
And that’s when he’d cleared his throat.
Startled, you’d tried to jump out of your seat, but instead only gotten more tangled in it. Your foot flew through the loop of the arm and you found yourself straddling the arm rest somehow. 
You looked up to see the hot contractor trying not to smile. Of course.
“Um,” you said, trying to find a graceful way to disentangle yourself from an inanimate piece of office furniture. “What… did you need something?”
He smiled, then, and you blinked, taken aback again by how handsome he was. “I just wanted to apologize in advance, we’re going to make a bit of noise across the way for about the next 45 minutes.” He stepped forward and lifted his hands and you realized he was going to try to help you. “Do you need—“
“Oh,” you interrupted, finally surreptitiously standing and fishing your leg out of your chair. “That’s alright, I’ve got headphones. But thanks!” You hopped slightly to the side and finally found yourself standing with both feet on the ground. You did not make a face. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem,” he said, still smiling. “Sorry again, for startling you.”
“It’s fine!” You tried to smile your way through it. “I’ll just–”
He nodded, and ducked out.
You sighed. Again?
By the time you found yourself trapped in the elevator with him, you were pretty sure you were destined to make a fool of yourself every time he so much as glanced at you.
On top of that, you were afraid of elevators.
When the car shuddered and came to a halt, you froze. You felt your heart begin to race like the worst kind of panic attack was just around the corner. You blinked, dazed, and then realized the lights were flickering.
��No, no, no,” you murmured, turning to look at the buttons. “No, please,” you said, stepping forwards and pressing the call button. 
Nothing happened.
You could feel it, then, the oncoming panic attack, and this was not the time, you tried to tell yourself.
“Hey,” a soft voice interrupted. You whirled around, startled. You’d forgotten he was there. “You alright?”
He stepped towards you and you didn’t know what your face was doing, but clearly it wasn’t good, because he stopped. 
“Hey,” he said again, voice deeper, more soothing. “We’re ok.” Not a question this time. “S’probably just to do with the construction we’re doin’. I’ll call my brother – he’s my business partner, you’ve probably seen him around. I’ll call him and make sure. Ok?”
You nodded, and you felt yourself start to shake. You backed up until you hit the wall and slid down until you could curl yourself into a ball, arms wrapped around your knees, head ducked. You could hear him having a short conversation but tried to focus on your breathing. 
In-2-3-4
Out-2-3-4
In-2-3-4
Out-2–
“Hey,” there were shoes in your line of sight. You raised your head and found him squatting about a foot away from you. “S’just a power issue. They’ll have it back on line in about 45 minutes, alright?” 
You blinked. “45–” you tried to repeat, but your voice came out like a gasp for air.
He frowned and reached forward hesitantly. You nodded, and he rested his hand on your elbow. “We’re not in any danger, alright? Brakes have got us. We’ll just sit tight until they fix it and then we’ll get out.”
He was right, you knew he was, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing or your short, uneven breaths.
“I–” you tried, but it didn’t come out. 
“Hey,” and that time it was even deeper, soothing. He scooted forward and sat next to you. “Look at me, darlin’. Give me your hand.” 
You did, and it was limp, and shaking. He frowned but placed your hand firmly on his chest. For a wild moment you wondered if you were going to reenact your second meeting.
“Breathe with me,” he said. “I’ll count.”
For the next few minutes, you did. He breathed in, and you breathed in. He breathed out, and you breathed out. You were looking into each other’s eyes the whole time, and without you really noticing, your breath evened out. 
“There you go,” he said and smiled. 
You nodded, noticing you’d stopped shaking. “Thank you. I’m not… small spaces. And heights. It’s the worst of both.”
He nodded. “I’m Joel, by the way. Realized I never introduced myself.”
You did the same and noticed he was still holding your hand against his chest. He seemed to realize it at the same time and squeezed your hand gently before releasing it. 
“Do you know how much longer?” You weren’t sure how long you’d been following his breathing.
Joel checked his watch. “Probably about 30, 35 minutes. Tommy said they were already working on it when I called.”
“You said he’s your brother?” You wrapped your arms around the knee closest to him, hugging it to you. 
He nodded and scooted a bit closer. He reached for one of your hands as he spoke. “And business partner. Miller Contracting.” He winked at you as he held your hand gently in both of his, palm up. He dug his thumbs into your palm, softly at first and then harder. A hand massage? It was instantly soothing, somehow, and you took an easier breath. “I do this for my daughter. She has panic attacks sometimes.” He started to work your wrist into gentle stretches as you glanced up at him. 
“Daughter?” you asked, wondering if there was a wife, too.
Joel nodded and smiled. “Sarah. S’just me and her, so we’ve figured out a few tricks.”
You smiled back. “Sounds like you’re a good dad.”
He ducked his head. “Try to be.” He reached for your other hand and you gave it easily, turning towards him. He was sitting cross-legged and somehow you ended up with your left knee nudging his legs, almost in his lap. Your breath caught but neither of you moved to put more space between you.
He started to massage your other hand and for a moment you just watched as his large, strong hands so carefully caressed yours.
Then the elevator trembled.
It shook, just slightly, and made a noise that you hoped wasn’t the brakes straining. Before you even knew what was happening you’d thrown yourself forward in terror, diving into Joel’s shoulder. Your breaths were coming hard and fast again and you struggled to find any air. Without missing a beat his arms came up to catch you and he pulled you forward into his lap.
You found yourself with your knees on either side of his hips and his arms firm around you, holding you in place. He slid one large hand up your back and pushed you gently forward until your chest rested against his.
You could immediately feel the difference in your breathing – his was slow and steady while yours was too quick, too shallow, almost hyperventilating.
Joel tucked your face into his neck and murmured in your ear, “it’s alright, darlin’. Breathe with me.” He started to breathe in and you felt his chest move. You tried to match your breath to his, but for a few moments you could only struggle against your own body. He started to hum, something low and soothing, and it pulled your attention from your anxiety and the elevator to Joel. You focused on the sound of his voice and the feeling of his arms around you, of his body under yours. 
Soon you sank deeper into him as your breaths started to even out. It wasn’t quite another full-fledged panic attack but it was close. 
“There you go,” he murmured, tightening his arm around you and cupping the back of your neck.
It hit you, then, that you were straddling this man who you’d just met. You squeaked and started to pull away. His arm held you in place. “Oh, shit, Joel, I’m so sorry–”
“Hey,” he said, interrupting you. You lifted your head and met his eyes. You saw nothing but softness and warmth. “No need for any o’that.” He smirked. “Besides. Might be that I like havin’ you here.”
Your eyes widened. You realized your hands were tucked in front of you on his chest and you slowly slid them up and around the back of his neck. You smiled. “Yeah?”
“Might have caught you lookin’ at me a couple times.” His thumb started to caress the side of your neck, moving up and down gently, and you shivered. “Might have been looking back.”
You bit your lip and felt your heart start racing when his eyes dropped to look at your mouth. “You sure you weren’t just looking at me because I kept making a fool of myself?”
Joel laughed, and you grinned. “Darlin’, I just wish I could have ended up with my hands on you to help you out of that chair, like when I caught you downstairs.” He winked and you realized his hand, which had been wrapped around your back, had slid down to grip your hip. He squeezed. 
You winced, but reached down to catch his hand when he started to move it away. You put it back on your hip. “Not that. Just, ugh, that was so embarrassing.” You squirmed slightly in his lap and he sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing your hip again. “I still don’t know how I did that.”
He smiled at you and slipped his thumb under the hem of your shirt. “I don’t know how you pretzeled yourself into that chair to begin with, darlin’.” You laughed. “It was charming.”
You raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. “I charmed you by sticking my leg through the arm of my desk chair?”
He laughed again and you watched the way it changed his face. “You did. I was charmed. Wanted to walk over and help you out of it. I’d already made up an excuse to come and talk to you, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” You scooted just a bit closer on his lap and he encouraged you, tugging your hip forward. 
“Mmhmm,” he murmured, and tugged lightly with the hand that was still cupping the back of your neck. You leaned forward. “Tommy’s been teasin’ me, saying my mind is already over in office 1502, might as well walk over there and join it.”
You were suddenly so close your nose brushed his. “Joel,” you breathed, and he grinned. 
“Can I help you darlin’?” His voice was low and slow and your breath hitched. “Let me distract you, hmm? Take your mind off it.” You met his eyes. You realized your mouth had fallen open slightly. His gaze was dark and intent. “Can I kiss you? Got no idea how much I’ve been wantin’ to.”
His eyes dropped to your mouth and all you could manage was, “please.”
Before the word was fully past your lips, he was there to swallow it down.
His lips pressed against yours gently, at first, and then with fervor. You shivered at the softness of his lips and sank happily into the feeling of his mouth against yours.
He used his grip on your neck to tilt your head to the side. He opened his mouth and you moaned, just slightly. 
Joel groaned and tugged you forward, as close as you could get.
As his tongue caressed yours, you thrust your hips down, and you moaned again when you felt your effect on him against the seam of your pants. He was hard, so hard – so hard it made your head spin.
“Joel,” you whined when he broke away to press his mouth to your jaw. 
He smiled against your cheek. “Darlin,” he said, voice deep and rough. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but.” He took a breath. “Can I make you come? Please?”
You sucked in a sharp breath, mind spinning. You didn’t want to think about the fact that you were in an elevator at work, but you couldn’t help it. Distantly, you wondered how much time you had left. 
Joel interrupted your worry by nipping at your neck. You sighed and drove your hips down into his. He held you there with his grip on your hip.
“Please?” he repeated, pressing a line of kisses down your neck. “Been thinkin’ about it. Wonderin’ how gorgeous you are when you come, when you’re already so gorgeous all the time, anyway.”
You were moving, hips rocking back and forth, before you could stop yourself. You nodded, but he used his grip on your neck to tilt your face towards his. You blinked your eyes open, wondering when you’d closed them.
“Let me hear you say it, gorgeous.” The hand on your hip started creeping under your shirt.
Your eyes locked onto his and you threw caution to the wind. There was nothing but you and him. “Yes, Joel,” you said, voice breathy. “Make me come.”
He growled and pulled you back into a fierce kiss. His hand moved from under your shirt to the waistband of your pants, which he unbuttoned smoothly. 
Your hips stuttered forward into his, and he smirked against your mouth. “Do you want it bad, darlin’?”
“Joel,” you murmured, a complaint, and he kissed you again. 
“No shame in it, darlin’,” he said, brushing his fingers lightly over your underwear, where you knew he could feel how wet you were. “Got no idea how bad I want to touch you.” He pressed down with his fingertips and ran them up the length of your underwear slowly. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
You kissed him again. “About me?”
He smiled and started to push your underwear to the side. You gasped. “You got any idea how nice your ass looks in these pants?” You laughed, surprised. “And don’t get me started on when you’re sitting at your desk, leaning forward, biting your lip and frowning at your computer.” He stroked your neck again with his thumb, his hand still gripping you there firmly. “Never been so turned on in an office, darlin’. Never been so turned on at work.”
Joel slipped his fingers inside your underwear, finally, and brushed his fingers over your pussy. “Bet you’re gorgeous down here, too.”
You sighed and bucked your hips towards his fingers. “Joel,” you said, and this time his name sounded like a plea. He smiled against your mouth. 
“What is it, darlin’?” His smug tone made you want to bite him. So you did, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth. He groaned and slipped his fingers between your folds, sliding easily in the evidence of your arousal. “Fuck, you’re so wet, aren’t you?”
You twisted your hips and nodded. “You know, I was only concentrating so hard because some hot contractor kept taking up all of my attention.” You grinned at him when he looked at you. “It’s pretty hard to focus when you’re here, walking around looking like that.”
Joel chuckled as his fingers came to rest against your clit. You felt the shiver travel up your back like lightning up your spine. “Looking like that? What’s that mean?”
His fingers started to circle your clit and you squirmed in his lap. His grip tightened on the back of your neck. “Like… that. With those shoulders, and arms, and those hands, Joel. Not to mention your very handsome face.” You pressed a few quick kisses to his cheeks and jaw. “I saw you frowning at Tommy, and that was hot enough,” you said, voice catching as you ground down against his hand. “And then you smiled at me, when you caught me.” 
“Darlin’, I have a confession.” Joel moved his thumb to your clit and crept lower with two of his fingers, collecting your arousal as he went. “Tommy told me about the door,” he said, “but only ‘cause I’d done the same thing, the day before.”
You blinked, and looked up from where you’d been staring down at his hand in your pants. “You what?”
Joel nudged your nose with his, smiling. “I almost walked into the wall over by the bathrooms, first time I saw you. You stepped off the elevator in that black dress and I swear my soul left my body.” His fingers circle your entrance as his thumb worked over your clit and you gasped. “Been trying to figure out how to ask you out ever since.”
One of his fingers slipped inside you and you threw your head back. Joel began to mouth at your neck and you realized you were breathing faster, in and out. “You should have,” you breathed. 
His finger was thick, and the realization made you shiver when you wondered what his cock would be like. Judging by what you’d felt in his lap, it was big.
He started to work it in and out, slowly opening you up. Before you could whine for more he slipped a second finger inside to join it. The feeling of his fingers stretching you, thrusting in and out, and then this thumb on your clit, his grip on your neck – it was making your head spin. 
“Darlin’,” he murmured, and pulled your face back close to his. He kissed you one, twice, in time with the thrusts of his thick fingers. “Can I take you out? On a date?”
You nodded. “Yes, please,” you breathed.
Joel grinned. “Good. Tonight?” He thrust his fingers inside you again and curled them forwards. 
You whined. “Yes.”
Joel drew you back into a deep, fierce kiss and you buried your hands in his hair. He was working his fingers perfectly and you felt your orgasm building at the base of your spine. 
“And maybe I can take you home after,” he murmured against your mouth, “and put my mouth on you, make you come again.” You thrust your hips forward and nodded, overwhelmed. “Would you like that, gorgeous? Let me lick you, get you all wet?”
“Yes, Joel.” Your mind was spinning, full of the images he was giving you. 
“And then I’ll give you my cock. Is that what you want?”
You let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. 
“Don’t worry, honey, it’s what I want, too. Been wantin’ it.” He smiled against your lips. “I can feel you gettin’ close, darlin’.” He twisted his fingers again and you moaned. “Come on, now. Come for me. Let me see it.”
He circled your clit just right with his thumb and you felt yourself teeter on the edge of it, like an ocean below you waiting for you to fall. 
“C’mon, gorgeous,” he said, kissing you swiftly. He quirked his fingers and circled his thumb and you fell off the edge. “Come.” 
You did, and it washed over you like a wave, drowning everything else out as you gave in to the feeling of his fingers and his mouth on your neck. You were pretty sure you said his name, but your entire world had narrowed to the places where he was touching you.
“...fuck,” he was saying, when you came back to yourself, breathing hard. “Fuckin’ hell, that was gorgeous. I knew it. So fucking pretty when you come.”
You couldn’t help yourself and thrust down against his cock, which was straining against his jeans. 
“Joel,” you moaned, and finally met his eyes again. They were dark and his face was intent, watching you. The look you found there made you wonder if you were about to have the best sex of your life in a broken elevator.
And then his phone rang.
“Shit,” he muttered, releasing your neck to dig in his pocket for his phone. You realized as he did that his fingers were still inside you and that he hadn’t moved them. “What,” he said into the phone, voice flat.
His eyebrows lifted as he listened, and he glanced at you. “Fifteen minutes?” he asked, and twisted his fingers inside of you. He smirked when you squirmed. “Alright, we’ll be ready.” He ended the call and dropped his phone on the carpeted floor of the elevator next to your knee. “Think I can make you come again in that time, darlin’?
You smiled. “Only if you let me touch you, too, Joel.”
He tilted his head, studying you with a smirk that made you squeeze his fingers. “Well–” he started to say, but suddenly the elevator shook and started to move again. 
Startled, Joel slipped his fingers out of you and you both scrambled to stand. You almost fell over again when you noticed he stuck them in his mouth, closing his eyes briefly as he cleaned them off. He blinked and looked at you. “Remember what I said, darlin’.”
You nodded, too stunned to speak. You both took a moment to fix your clothes and by the time the elevator reached the 15th floor, you assumed you were more or less presentable, even if your breathing was still a bit fast and you could feel the evidence of what you’d done in your underwear. 
Joel’s cock was still hard in his jeans, too. You tried not to stare at it. 
Just before the elevator opened, he leaned into you and placed his hand on your lower back. “Pick you up at 7?” he asked, voice low. 
You looked at him and smiled. “It’s a date.”
...
a/n: a date!
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sweet1delusi0ns · 11 months ago
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Class 1A boys getting a surprise kiss──☆*:・゚
MHA/fem!reader
Characters: Izuku, katsuki, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, Denki, Sero, Tokoyami, Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Shoji, Koji!
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IZUKU~
Surprising him scares him so much (poor guy) he either flinches back or starts instantly blushing. You come up behind him as quiet as can be and give him a little kiss on the cheek he will flip!
“aaAHHHHH- oh… h-hey y/n…your scared me…” “aw sorry I just wanted to give you a kiss~” “dont sneak up on me y/n! Your gunna get thrown threw a wall-” “Aw I just wanted to show you lovee!” “Warn me next time!” The whole time he was reddd~
KATSUKI~
Bro thinks he’s so cool trying to tease you with sneak kissed but the second you do it back to him it’s suddenly ‘not funny anymore’. So whenever you surprise kiss him he pushes you off and huffs like a baby
“Surprise~” “UGH WHAT ARE Y-YOU DOING!!” “Aw why so mad?” “ITS NOT FUNNY STOP IT!” He covered his face with one hand because he knows he’s turning red “aw my suki likes kissed! Mwa mwa mwaaa” “STOP!!”
SHOTO~
He doesn’t understand that he deserves kisses, especially when he didn’t do anything to ‘deserve’ the kiss. So when you surprise kiss him he is confused as he Is flustered
“W…what was that for?” “I can’t give you a kiss?” “Uhm I guess you can but I didn’t do anything-” “you don’t need too! I just wanted a kiss” “really? Well thank you…may I have another? For free?” “heh yes for free~"
TENYA~
He wants to be “cool” so bad but he can’t with you~ so whenever you give him a sneaky kiss he’s just like “stopppp :>” and either runs away or covers his face with both hands (yk how he does)
“What was that…” “uhm a kiss?” “Oh!…whatever….” “…” “heheheheehehehehe” “uh?” He just covers his face and wiggles like a weirdo- “hehe she kissed mee”
EIJIROU~
Wants to act cool and kinda does? Whenever you sneak kiss him he does it back to make it seem like not a big deal but flaunts it to his friends later~
“Aw thanks y/n! Mwa” “your so cute~!” You smother his face in kisses which he did not mind!! “T-thank you…a-again-“ “anything for youuu” 10 minutes later: “YOU GUYS SHE KISSED LIKE EVERY INCH OF MY FACE?!”
DENKI~
Yk that stupid Face he does when he short circuits, yeah he makes that face intentionally when you scare him with a kiss on the cheek. He jumps, maybe yelps a little then he realizes it’s you and makes that stupid face-
“AUH!” “It’s me…?” “Oh…. (-ヮ-)” “don’t ever make that face at me again what-” “sorry! You just caught me off gaurd!” “You just want another kiss huh?” “Yes.” “Fine but that face is not cute”
SERO~
The only time it ever really gets to him is if it’s in public!! So when you sneak up on him and give him a kiss when he’s with his friends he will get so flustered and pushes you away while looking at the ground~
“Mwaa hey babe” “Y/N?!” “What?” He pushes you out of ear shot from his friends “d-dont do that infront of my friends! It’s embarrassing!” “Is being kissed embarrassing or is you being red embarrassing?” “Shut up.” He walks back to his friends acting like you didn’t exist . Later when you give him the silent treatment for ignoring you he won’t leave you alone till he gets another kiss
TOKOYAMI~
Most of the time dark shadow snitches on you before you even get to him, but the few times you sneak past him is so cute! When you startle him with a cheek kiss he jump and his feathers puff out in fear. Then acts like he wasn’t scared at all
“No need to puff up it was just a kiss?” “Uh? Puff up I don’t know what you mean.” “Your feathers are puffed out? Ohhh you got scared!!” “Not possible!” “Deny it all you want!…you are really fluffy though” “stop!” He turns his back to you so he can be flustered in peace
AOYAMA~
Stuck up little shit. But you know it’s all in good fun, he does love you but sometimes you think he loves himself a little more which he doesn’t (off character ik, it’s a HC ok!) so mostly when you surprise kiss him he just makes it abt him-
“Aw y/n~ id Kiss me every second of the day too!” “Uh-” “I am so awfully dazzling I couldn’t resist either~” “ok no more kisses for you.” “WAIT WHAT NO?”
OJIRO~
Smart boy so he has made it a habit of keeping his tail circled around him so he can feel your footsteps through the floor, or trip you (LOL) so the only way you can get him is when he is sitting. He thinks he’s safe when he’s sitting but he isn’t
You creep up behind him and grab his shoulder, you pull your head around his and give him a very aggressive kiss! “GOTCHAA” “y/n that’s not fair I wasn’t ready for that!” “It is so fair, I get to kiss you, and you get a kiss from me! Fair!” “Ugh! Next time warn me! So I can trip you” “what?”
SATO~
Big boy! He isn’t scared of surprise kisses at all, shockingly he is one of the few who don’t even flinch at all. So you just jump on his back randomly and smother his cheeks with kisses!
“Sneak attack! Mwa mwaaa MWAAA” “y/n~ stop!” “Why???” “Cuz i want a real one!” He points to his lips and you gave him a soft smooch there too! He also likes it when you squish is face when kissing himm
SHOJI~
Another one who doesn’t get scared, just really shy. You have seen him without a mask but he is still a little insecure about it (writing abt that later😍). So when you pull his mask down and kiss his lips he hides away sometimes~
“Shoji?” “Yes love?” You pull his mask down to give him a soft kiss on his lip before pulling it back up to not make him uncomfortable. He broke “that’s all~” “one moment…” he just crouches to the ground to hide for a second to think of a plan. When he’s done hiding he comes back up and kisses you back with rosy cheeks!
KOJI~
Just don’t, he will die, From being scared and or flustered. You have to warn him no matter what! So it normally goes like this
“Hey koji” “um…yes?” He only talks in private or if it’s important! “Im warning you, I’m gunna kiss you” “…hu-” smooch “there!…you gunna be ok?” He collapses to the ground hiding in his knees which are against his chest “mhm…” “your so cute~” “*squealing noise*”
Not proooooof readdddd cuz I’m lazyyyy😍
Literally gunna write class 1B next they need more love cuz they such cutiesss
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 4 months ago
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Mark ⋆⭒˚.⋆
idol!Mark x f!idol!reader
summary: you and you boyfriend Mark are paired up for an interview, but do you even know you're texting each other? No.
(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Mark got comfortable in the plush, pink chair of the Kode set with a shy smile, "Ah hello, I'm Mark from NCT." He pushes his earbuds into his ears and begins playing his music, "today I'll be known as Cheetah. Um, I couldn't really think of anything else and the fans already call me a cheetah so it was easy to think of."
On the opposite side of the wall, you settle into your own chair while smiling at the camera while introducing yourself, "I was so confused when I was asked to pick a wild cat as my screen name. It was such an oddly specific category, and even weirder when you told me cheetah was already taken. Anyway, I chose Tiger because they're the next prettiest."
Your music begins to play through your earbuds as your phone vibrates from the first message from your partner. "Yo?" you read in confusion, staring at your screen with pure confusion, "is that it? This is a man isn't it? Girls don't talk like this."
On the other side of the wall Mark laughs softly, covering his mouth as he reads the message. "This person is so happy. I've never seen anyone write hi with this many i's."
You and Mark text back and forth for a while, sharing your hobbies and sending memes back and forth until the both of your are giggling madly on your respective sides of the set. Of course, after nearly 2 years together you'd know how to make each other laugh, even without knowing you're texting each other. Your partner still doesn't give you any identifying traits or hints as to who they are. Well, besides clearly being a man based on how he texts.
Following the instruction of the staff, you send a screenshot of your home screen. You pout, feeling slightly bad for your partner. Just two days ago you'd gotten a new phone and hadn't yet had the time to make it yours. It was stuck with the boring default background and a handful of apps you considered to be essential. You explain as much with the text accompanying the screenshot.
And Mark's screenshot? Well, it might as well be just as boring as yours. He has the blur set on the photo so all you see is an indistinct mess of colors. Two distinct blobs which could be the shape of two people or two flowers or two guitars or two cats.
"Wow," you say as you typed out the word, "we are two very boring people. You really don't want me to know who you are."
Mark laughs out brightly while he reads your text, "me? You haven't even changed your own yet!"
"I told you I just got a new phone and haven't had time yet!" You laugh to yourself while typing out your message.
Your joking back and forth gets the two of you off track while you playfully poke fun at each other back and forth until the staff ask you both who you think you're texting. Mark looks at the camera while he tries to think, "I have no clue. It's a girl, surely but it could be anyone. Do you pick random people off the street to do these videos?"
On the other side of the wall, you blush softly, covering your face while your face cools down, "is it weird if I say it's my boyfriend? He just seems so much like Mark."
It's one of the few times you've ever referred to Mark as your boyfriend for any sort media. You and Mark had technically been a public couple for about a year now, since your respective companies had come out with their statements to reveal your relationship. How you'd been able to conceal a year of your relationship was beyond the both of you. Well, a lot of dark, oversized clothes and hats and masks to conceal your faces.
After the company statements, you and Mark seemed to be even better at hiding. You barely glanced at each other at award shows, and if you did, it was only friendly, nothing that could be interpreted as anything else. There were very few glimpses into your relationship beyond birthday and anniversary posts with obscured faces and sharing each other's most recent comebacks on your stories. Privacy was something you both valued and of course you were more than ok with doing any type of promotion with Mark, it just never worked out that way. Until now (not that you knew). Plus, it wasn't like this interview would give anyone any important details of your relationship anyway.
When the staff prompt you both to share a screenshot of your most recently listened to songs, you stare at your screen with a look of blank surprise, "this is just a mix of Drake and Justin Bieber. It's Mark, it has to be."
You zoom in on the picture, mumbling about how you see more music that is so distinctly Mark while on the other side Mark looks at the screenshot you send excitedly. "She's a fan! Of me! Wow, she's listened to Child and Golden Hour and 200! Ok, I have to chill out a bit," he tells himself even as he types out his message telling you that you have good music taste.
You snort at his message just as the staff laugh at the exchange at the same time. The head producer instructs you both to find your baby pictures to send to the other.
You look up from your phone, looking at the camera and the staff, "surely, you'd think a couple who have been together for this long have seen pictures of each other when they were kids, right?" The staff nods in response before you speak again, "well, we haven't! I've only seen what has been posted online. Same for him!"
Mark sends you a picture of him as a baby where he's a few months old and you coo immediately. You zoom in as close as you can drawing your phone closer to you face as you star adoringly at the baby on your screen. "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen! I've never seen a cuter baby in my life! Oh, I just want to squeeze his cheeks and cuddle him," you gush over the adorable picture of the chubby baby boy with an adoring look on your face.
Mark looks at his phone, the camera, the staff, his phone again, the camera again with a look of pure and utter confusion as he looks at what he can only assume is a child covered in frosting. "You can barely tell this is a human, how is this supposed to help me figure out who I've been texting?" Mark asks, zooming in on the picture while the staff bursts out in laughter. When he finds out who he's talking to...
So when he staff ask for a final guess as to who you've been texting you say Mark's name confidently while Mark ultimately utters out, "Maybe someone from a girl group... maybe it's Yeri."
When the staff ask you both to stand and get ready to face each other to reveal yourselves. Instead of walking toward Mark, you find yourself behind the set so you're behind Mark.
Mark walks forward slowly, waiting to see when he'll spot his interview partner, but when he sees an empty spot, he faces the camera and the staff with a quizzical smile, "was I talking to a ghost?"
They laugh softly and murmur amongst themselves while you finally reach forward and tap his shoulder softly. Mark jumps, completely scared by the touch. He turns to you with his eyes wide with surprise, "you?!"
"Yes, me!"
After you're both seated at the high top table and calmed down from the surprise meeting with on another, you're both ready to talk to each other in front of the camera once again. You smile softly at your boyfriend, "I knew it was you."
Mark scoffs, "how?"
"Yo," you repeat the word from his first message with a poor imitation of his voice, "all the Drake, all the Bieber-- oh my gosh, Mark! Your baby picture!"
Mark laughs, taking your hand in his out of view of the camera, "speaking of baby pictures, what did you send me?"
Your brows furrow softly at his question, "I sent you a picture of me as a baby."
"There's no way that was you. You look like a little cake monster."
"It was from my first birthday..." you pout at Mark.
"Don't get pouty with me, you were completely covered, how could I have known? I can pout too! My face used to be your homescreen and now it's the plain default screen," Mark tells you with a playful pointed look.
"Mark," you deadpan, "you were with me when I got my new phone."
"Oh yeah..." Mark blushes with embarrassment.
"Anyway, who did you think I was?"
Mark squeezes your hand nervously beneath the table, his thumb rubbing at your knuckles a little anxiously, "I had no clue, to be honest. I knew you were a girl but I didn't know it was you."
When the staff ask Mark how he didn't know but you did, all he can do is blush and laugh out a nervous response. You turn to him with a playful accusatory look of your own, "yeah, how come you didn't know?"
"I don't really pay attention to how you text, just what we text about..."
You and the staff coo as you pinch his cheeks and cup his face lovingly, "you're so cute, but you were cuter as a baby."
"My mom says the same thing," Mark rolls his eyes.
Your conversation winds down and you both pose for the selfie at the end. You both pull silly faces, cheeks pressed together and eyes scrunched shut with your tongues sticking out.
Despite the stupid picture you both took, the screen fades to black with a completely different picture of you and Mark laughing while looking at each other with hearts in your eyes and bright smiles on your faces.
2K notes · View notes
shuaflix · 4 months ago
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the xu minghao dilemma
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❝ i was having more fun talking about how objectively and subjectively good i look. ❞
PAIRING ▸ xu minghao x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, suggestive, coffee shop au, college au, childhood friends to lovers au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, slow burn, weed consumption, tooth-rotting fluff, lowkey jeongcheol and verkwan if you squint, everyone being whipped for minghao, a somewhat heated makeout scene, friend group antics as per usual, minghao being the living embodiment of a green flag, ft. yooyeon from triples
SUMMARY ▸ like most film students, you find yourself experiencing the worst creative block of your life when you're tasked to film a documentary for your final project. enter: your old childhood best friend turned stranger, xu minghao—an (incredibly handsome) ex-dancer and barista who just might be the spark of inspiration you need to make the best film of your academic career. on the flip side, minghao needs this film to win him the scholarship that lets him dance again. despite all, your circumstances don't stop your old, repressed feelings for minghao from resurfacing.
PLAYLIST ▸ insomnia by zerobaseone • kidult by seventeen • meme by &team • heart surf by kep1er • glue song by beabadoobee
WORD COUNT ▸ 20,606 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is for user junyangis my favorite bot
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“THE TIGER: ICONIC SYMBOL OF THE WILD, AND AN APEX PREDATOR THAT WE FEAR AND ADMIRE.”
You panned your camera to focus on Yoon Jeonghan, who was currently sifting through the mess of papers and notebooks across his desk. All of the drawers were turned out with their contents scattered across the carpet. His frantic search for his missing vape had been going on for the past twenty minutes, and you were certain this was his fifth time going through his belongings again. 
Normal people, such as yourself, would’ve given up within the first five minutes, but your best friend’s resilience was admirable. His unwavering persistence was exactly the sort of character you wanted to showcase in your films. Without the context of the vape addiction, of course. 
“And here,” you continued in the best David Attenborough impression you could conjure up, “we see a tiger in the wild.”
“Go to hell, dude,” Jeonghan snapped back. You squinted at him through your viewfinder to catch him carding a frustrated hand through his hair. “My Circadian rhythm needs flavored air to function.” 
The tiny red light flickered once, then vanished as you stopped recording. “Try regular air. It’s good for you—and free.” 
“Yeah? Then maybe this is my calling to get sober.”
(It was important to note that Jeonghan tended to say this very frequently.)
He finally rose from the corner of his dorm room where he had strewn the contents of his drawer all over the floor. Jeonghan crossed over to where you were sitting—on his bed, leaning against the wall with his Doraemon pillow—and plopped down beside you. His eyes, glazed-over and half-lidded, were fixed on the ceiling, as if he was going over each groove in the drywall. 
For the past two hours, you had been agonizing over ideas for your documentary. Jeonghan was typically great when it came to bouncing ideas off each other, so you often pestered him until inspiration struck. Today didn’t seem like a particularly stimulating day for either of you, though. Your best friend paid attention for maybe half an hour, but even he started running out of ideas for potential documentary content. 
“By the way,” he added, still stuck in a faraway trance, “do not use whatever you just recorded for your film project. I don’t consent to being exploited for views.” 
It had been weeks since you came to terms with the fact that Jeonghan didn’t want to be the subject of your documentary. You had a semester to complete this project for your documentary class, and although you still had a decent amount of time left, you were starting to get worried because most of your classmates already started outlining their ideas. You hadn’t even found your main character yet.
There were quite a few reasons why you wouldn’t have chosen Jeonghan in the first place; it didn’t just chalk down to his disinterest in being filmed. You wanted to capture someone with a story—a progression or growth that tugged at the heartstrings of your audience—and using someone you weren’t already close with would help you film more objectively.
You raised a brow at your friend. “You? I was clearly filming a wild animal in its natural habitat.”
“Recording without two-party consent is tasteless,” he reminded. “And just for that, I’m not telling you the incredible, brilliant idea I just had.”
“You haven’t exactly shared that many incredible, brilliant ideas for me to feel disappointed about that.”
“No, trust me. It’s really good.” He used his elbows to prop himself up, shooting you a wide grin. His resolve to withhold his proposition crumbled within seconds of his excitement. “It’s the best idea I’ve had since that one time I stole Seungcheol’s towel and t-shirt while he was showering.” 
You glanced at him through the corner of your eyes. “All you did was make him walk around shirtless.”
“Exactly.” Jeonghan returned your look with far more judgment than you had given him. “That was the best part.”
The memory was hard to forget. During your freshman year, you were living in the dorms where your RA was Choi Seungcheol. It was safe to say that a solid majority of the people on your floor had eyes for the dreamy Resident Advisor. Jeonghan only contributed to the noble cause of fan service by ensuring that Seungcheol would end up having to walk through the hallway with his glorious abs on display, his chiseled body beaded with water droplets. 
“So what’s your idea? Ask Seungcheol if I can film a strip tease?”
“No, it’s—wait, that’s so good. If we can get that greenlit, you should totally—”
“Nope, definitely not doing that,” you interjected with a firm shake of your head. You were not going to present a half-naked Seungcheol as your final project. “Give me something more PG-13.”
“Boring, but fine.” After mocking a pout, Jeonghan’s lips immediately curled up in a smirk. “Xu Minghao.” 
The very mention of his name made you straighten up. You hadn’t spoken to Minghao in years, and although your friends would tease you about being his childhood friend, you didn’t see your past with him as anything worth mentioning. After all, being close friends during middle school was nothing compared to the plethora of memories you made after the two of you grew distant. 
“Huh?”
“Xu Minghao,” he repeated. “Streets are saying he’s quit dancing.” 
You frowned. “Minghao quit dancing?” 
That couldn’t be right. Minghao? The same Xu Minghao who snuck out of his house to practice for hours in dance studios? The same one who took eight trains, walked fifteen miles, and hitchhiked to get to dance camp on his own? The same one who shed tears when he won his first dance competition? 
Dance was Minghao’s life; it came as naturally as breathing to him. You so clearly remembered his overwhelming passion that drove him to practice tirelessly for years. Just watching him move to the beat made you feel like he was born to express himself that way. You couldn’t imagine your childhood friend, who had been dancing his entire life, to just throw away all his hard work and talent on a whim.
“Streets also mentioned he hurt his foot real bad. Poor guy can’t compete at nationals anymore.” 
“Streets?”
“I’m protecting anonymity, okay?” After you peered at him for a moment, Jeonghan caved under the pressure of your stare and added, “Fine. It was Seungkwan.”
You scoffed. All credibility of the rumor vanished like a wisp of smoke. 
“Seungkwan also claimed Vernon needed to go to the emergency room when he got a paper cut,” you replied, unimpressed.
“No, I think it really is serious this time. You can check it out for yourself, if you want,” Jeonghan said. “He’s working at the café like, every day now.”
“His mom’s café?”
“Mmhm. He stopped for a while ‘cause of school, but he just picked up his shifts again.”
“And you think that’s what I should do for my documentary? Minghao quitting the one thing that could be worth filming?” 
“I don’t think he actually wanted to quit,” Jeonghan said, looking down at his intertwined hands in his lap with a puzzled expression, as if the Xu Minghao Dilemma™ had been keeping him up at night. “I don’t know what it is. Seungkwan said he seemed kind of off when he was talking about it.”
You were quiet for a moment, and Jeonghan continued, “You also find it weird, don’t you? It doesn’t make sense that he’d just quit like that.”
“I mean, if something’s really going on with him, then I don’t think it’s right for me to ask if I can turn that into a documentary,” you said. 
“I’m not saying that, but…” He trailed off before shrugging. “I just think it wouldn’t hurt to check in on him.”
You arched a brow at him. “Why don’t you check in on him? Aren’t you two friends?”
“We’re bros,” he corrected. Cue a dramatic groan from you, which was promptly ignored as Jeonghan elaborated, “our way of showing that we’re there for each other is by queueing up on League together or talking about the Roman Empire.” 
“Jeonghan, you have never once mentioned the Roman Empire.”
“Jokes on you, I did a research project on it in middle school.” He shut his eyes to wave off the tangent he started going off on. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re a girl—a woman. Women get to the point. They get things done.” He gave you a resolute nod, and you were starting to wonder if he was simply trying to use flattery against you. “Hence why I think you can figure out what’s going on with Minghao.”
You sighed. “But Minghao and I haven’t even spoken in so long. I don’t want to overstep.”
“Look, I’ve texted Hao—even met up with him in person—but the guy won’t budge. He just gives me that customer service smile of his and says he’s fine.”
“And what makes you think I’ll be able to do anything?”
“I’m not saying you will, but I think he’ll turn around when he realizes more people are concerned about him.”
On one hand, you didn’t exactly have any sort of relationship with Xu Minghao that gave you a reason to visit him. Did he even remember your name? You could only imagine the confusion drawing his brows together upon seeing you after years of silence. Or perhaps he wouldn’t care at all. The two of you could probably pass by each other as complete strangers, and he wouldn’t experience the same flicker of old memories that made your heart ache.
On the other hand, you truly were curious. And it wouldn’t hurt to visit the old café, either. 
Plus, you would never admit it out loud, but part of you had been waiting for an excuse to talk to your old friend again. 
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You felt utterly stupid as you stood at the entrance of the café.
First, your heart was beating unbelievably fast for something that shouldn’t have been this difficult of a feat. It was a coffee shop, for crying out loud. All you had to do was walk inside and order something without making a fool out of yourself. Couldn’t be that hard, right? 
Second, it was hard to pretend like you were only here for coffee when your only intention was to check up on Minghao. Now you were wondering if you should’ve texted him first, but that probably would’ve taken you a few days to work up the courage to send. 
And the cherry on top of your miserable cake was that you didn’t even like coffee. Maybe you could get something to eat, but you weren’t big on pastries, either. You just had to force yourself to get whatever seemed the most appetizing and hope that Minghao took notice of you. 
That was another thing; you didn’t even know what hours he worked. Your plan was to work in the corner of the café until you saw him coming in. Knowing your luck, he probably didn’t even have a shift scheduled for today. Still, you were determined to wait it out since you had come this far already. 
With a shaky breath, you pushed open the door and were immediately greeted by a rush of warmth. You instinctively tugged your cardigan tighter around your frame as you scanned the space. It had been years since you stepped into the café, but everything was about the same; almost all the tables were occupied with teenagers or lone adults who came to get work done, the back wall had a space reserved for people to leave cute notes and drawings, and a familiar barista was eyeing you from the get-go. 
There he was, watching you from the counter. Clusters of stars encased in two midnight pools.
Xu Minghao, who you skillfully managed to avoid interacting with for the past six years, was looking at you with the same familiarity that stirred in your chest.
Your first reaction was to flee, but you would’ve looked ridiculous running out of the shop, so you walked to the nearest empty table first. Did people look for tables before they even ordered? You were starting to forget how to normally function as you set your bag down on the smooth oak wood. 
“Sample?” a gentle voice called from behind you as you were fumbling with getting your laptop out of your bag. You looked over your shoulder to see Minghao with a tray of bite-sized slices of cheesecake with toothpicks sticking out of the top. A warm smile graced his features, so dazzling to the point where it was blinding. “It’s one of our signature desserts here.” 
“Oh,” was all you could say at first, disoriented as you picked up one of the cheesecake bites. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be at the front whenever you’re ready to order.”
He left before you could get another word out, and you shoved the cube of cheesecake in your mouth so that you didn’t look completely frozen (which you were). Minghao probably went around giving samples to every customer, but surely he recognized you, right? It wasn’t like the two of you were completely oblivious to each other’s existence. Minghao had to know you two had mutual friends from the Instagram stories and posts you were featured in.
Moreover, his leg seemed fine. Boo Seungkwan had once again proven to be an untrustworthy source.
You worked up the courage to walk to the register after going over the menu about twenty times, finally deciding on getting a mango fruit tea. As soon as you were in front of Minghao, though, your predetermined order disappeared from your head and the menu looked like a blur of words.
Your mind went completely blank. 
“Uh…” You were floundering for something to say—anything. Coffee was the only drink coming to mind, but you weren’t sure the caffeine would be good for your nerves. “I'll have, uh…” 
This was so stupid. You waited for minutes on end to decide on your order and ended up looking like a complete fool in front of Minghao.
“Would you like a recommendation?” he offered smoothly, as if this was a routine response for him. You wondered how many other customers lost their train of thought upon seeing his face. 
“Yes, please.” 
“I know it's chilly outside, but our fruit teas are pretty popular. And, if I remember correctly, you've always been a fan of mango,” he said. You swore he was trying to avert his gaze now, although he had been maintaining proper eye contact up until this moment. “Injeolmi toast is a favorite here, too. I know you like injeolmi, unless your tastes have changed…” 
Wow. Maybe you were off the mark all along. Minghao clearly hadn't forgotten you; in fact, he remembered more of you than you could even recall yourself. 
“Mango fruit tea—that’s right. That’s what I wanted to order.” You let out an awkward laugh, brushing your hair over your shoulder to distract yourself from how hot your chest felt. “Then I’ll order both. I’ve never had injeolmi toast, but I do still like injeolmi.” 
His face broke into a bright smile—the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. 
“Oh, good. I was worried I didn't remember correctly,” he admitted sheepishly. After entering your order into the tablet, he turned the screen around for you to pay. You were so focused on tipping that Minghao startled you when he asked, “How’ve you been?” 
When you looked up, his gaze was sincere. A torrent of warmth rushed through your body.
“Good. I mean—college, you know?” Everything you wanted to say sounded garbled in your head. You didn’t even know where to begin. “I barely have any free time these days outside of assignments and working on sets.”
“Oh, right. You’re in film, huh? How’s that been for you?”
“It’s been good so far. I’m actually getting ready to film a documentary right now.”
He looked up at you with wide eyes, gleaming with genuine interest. Since Minghao had been no more than a stranger to you these past several years, you hadn’t expected to see such sincerity in his enthusiasm. 
Your heart must have skipped a beat or two.
“A documentary? About what?” But then his attention was lost, his eyes unfocusing to glance at the customer waiting impatiently behind you. You immediately felt guilty for taking up so much time, but then Minghao said, “I get off in an hour. Are you still gonna be around?”
“Yeah, I will.”
“Great. Save a chair for me.” He flashed one of his shining, award-winning smiles again. “Your order will be out in a few minutes, Y/N.”
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The injeolmi toast was cold. 
It tasted good enough for you to not mind, but when you saw someone else carrying a tray of the steaming bread, you figured that Minghao simply forgot to heat yours up. You were disheartened that you were doomed to eat cold, chewy injeolmi, but the sweet and nutty flavor was so delectable that you ended up scarfing it down within minutes anyway. The café seemed rather busy around this time, so you didn’t put it past Minghao to rush your order.
The mango fruit tea was incredible, though. By far the best fruit tea you’ve had. It was compelling enough for you to download Yelp to leave a glowing five-star review. 
When you opened Café du Soleil’s page, you noticed that your dear friend Seungkwan (credentials: Yelp Elite Squad) had already left a review mentioning the same drink. 
★★★★★ Nov 7, 2024 Incredible customer service. I love Xu Minghao. The mango fruit tea changed my life for the better.
You left a review about the mango fruit tea and injeolmi toast (conveniently leaving out the fact that yours wasn’t warmed up). A much more comprehensive review than Seungkwan’s, you would say. 
Your nerves were still buzzing from your conversation with Minghao. It had been years since you two had spoken to each other, and now you were waiting for him to get off his shift to catch up with you. If you maintained a friendship with him all these years, then maybe all of this would feel natural. Maybe this would’ve been your designated table to wait for Minghao after his shift, spending time with him after work and walking home together.
An hour passed by faster than you thought it would. The first ten minutes felt agonizing, watching the minutes tick by painfully slow, but once you were consumed in a discussion post for your Narrative Production class, Minghao was making his way over to you before you knew it.
“Hey, stranger,” he greeted, pulling out the chair across from you to sit down in. Your eyes followed the slice of cheesecake he brought over on a plate before he nodded toward the empty plate on your tray. “What’d you think of the toast?”
“Really good,” you gushed. You opted to leave out the part where your bread was cold. “I was almost about to go up to order again.”
“Ah, right.” He pushed the plate in your direction. “This is for you.”
“Oh,” you answered, startled. “How much was it? I can pay—”
“No, don’t worry. It’s on me,” Minghao cut in smoothly, signaling his objection with a wave of his hand. “I forgot to ask you if you liked the sample earlier, but I ended up bringing it over anyway.”
Just as you remembered, he was always thinking about others first. Minghao was so earnest in his words and actions that it was hard for you to grasp that he was real. Even in his adolescence, you remembered he had a different air of maturity from the other boys just because of how kind he was. You wanted to pick him apart and dissect his brain to figure out if he was just biologically wired to be perfect.
He was so different now—not completely different but just enough to set you on edge. Minghao had grown into his features so beautifully and still spoke in that calm and soft voice, but there was this newfound confidence he carried that seemed almost unshakeable. 
With the way he was staring at you so intently, you felt pressured to give your opinion on the cheesecake right away. You forked a sliver of the cake into your mouth, hand hovering over your mouth as you chewed. Mostly because you were trying to swallow as fast as possible so that Minghao would stop being so laser-focused on you.
“It’s good,” you mused. “I should come by more often.”
He perked up at your words, and soon Minghao was enthusiastically asking you to give him a recap on everything that was going on in your life. You hardly knew where to begin—or, rather, where to pick up after the two of you stopped being close. 
You told him about how your parents disapproved of your film major, how it took months of convincing and begging until they realized that you were serious about your passion for filmmaking. He listened intently as you talked about all the short films you made on your own to persuade your parents, and he even watched one of them on your phone, giving you nods of acknowledgement and an impressed hum.
The conversation bled into different aspects of your life, and Minghao was able to join in while you two talked about how you met your mutual friends. You explained how you met Jeonghan and Wonwoo at a party, somehow hitting it off so well that you two ended up hanging out the morning after. Minghao met Jeonghan when they were placed in the same orientation group, and you thought about how funny it was that the world was small enough for you two to have grown apart and still ended up with mutual friends. 
It was getting dark outside by the time Minghao was giving you the rundown of how he met Seungkwan, detailing the encounter in a way that made Seungkwan seem a little insane. Apparently, Minghao had gotten Seungkwan’s number at a dance workshop and the younger boy spammed him with texts one night until Minghao agreed to hang out. Thankfully, Minghao found Seungkwan’s persistence to be charming. A stark contrast from how you went home early during your first time hanging out with Seungkwan because you were so overstimulated.
When Minghao started talking about going to a dance workshop with Jeonghan, you realized this was your opening.
“Oh, yeah,” you said, feigning a casual tone, “Jeonghan mentioned that you were quitting dance?”
A sad smile dawned on his face. “At least until I finish college. I just needed to take some time off to focus on school.”
“That makes sense, I guess. But weren’t you supposed to have a competition at the end of the year?”
“Nationals,” he clarified. “I’ve been pushing back my withdrawal, but I’m gonna have to do it soon.”
You noticed his gloomy expression, and it was making you remember Jeonghan’s words about how Minghao probably didn’t actually want to quit. If he really wanted to drop out of the competition, then you were certain the corners of his mouth wouldn’t be tugging down, nor would the light in his eyes dim. 
The Minghao you once knew was honest about his feelings. He unapologetically wore his emotions on his sleeve, and he prepared himself for every possible outcome so that he could keep a strong front. You always admired how he was able to stay so calm and collected as the world weighed on his shoulders.
Now, the Minghao before you looked like a kettle sputtering water from its spout, a whistle away from overflowing completely. 
It was a bold question for someone you weren’t close with anymore, but you asked, “You don’t want to withdraw, right?”
With his mouth set in a grim line, Minghao shook his head. “If it was up to me, I’d still be dancing.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
“It’s just… complicated,” he said. “Our café’s been doing decently, but it’s not enough for it to stay up and running. We were barely keeping up with rent and now they’ve upped the prices, but…” He moved his leg from under the table so that it was stretched out to the side. “I tore my meniscus around four months ago. It’s a lot better now—still sore sometimes—but we had to pay for physical therapy on top of everything. I’ve had to pick up shifts here because we’re so understaffed now, so there isn’t really enough time for me to focus on dancing.”
“If we had enough money to cushion our rent for the next three months, I think this place would be saved,” he continued, “but if I’m gonna make that happen, I have to dedicate all my time here.”
Oh. You sent Boo Seungkwan a mental apology for ever doubting him about Minghao’s injury. Perhaps he wasn’t as unreliable of a source as you assumed he would be. 
You knew that the situation must have been serious for him to quit dancing, but you didn’t expect the café to be at stake. Of course, you had zero knowledge on what it took to be a dancer at a national level, but you just couldn’t wrap your head around Minghao giving up this easily. 
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s my decision.”
You asked, “Are you okay with that, though? Not dancing?”
“It is what it is.” He shrugged. “Our studio’s tuition on top of competition fees, private lesson fees, and workshop fees… it’s just not feasible for me to be able to keep doing this right now. Of course I could just practice on my own in the studio, but we just don’t have enough people to cover every shift here.”
You nodded along. He really sounded as defeated as his explanation made you feel, and you realized you were going to have to recount this to Jeonghan to get him to give up. This situation was far too nuanced for either of you to push Minghao to keep dancing out of pure passion. Sometimes that just wasn’t enough. 
Minghao eventually had to go to close up the shop, and you had to turn down his insistent offers to give you more food until he basically shoved a bunch of pastries into your arms before you left. As you walked back to your apartment, braving the icy bite of the wind, one thing was for certain: you were most definitely not making a documentary out of Xu Minghao’s tragic story.
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“I’m running a survey,” you declared, “because this is a democracy and I value all of your opinions.”
You had called for an emergency meeting the day after you met up with Minghao. Your friends were all sitting haphazardly around your room; Seungkwan had his legs up against the wall and his body sprawled across your bed, Jeonghan was right next to Seungkwan, Junhui was sitting on top of your laundry basket despite being scolded about crushing it, Vernon was on top of your desk, and Wonwoo was the only one sensible enough to be sitting in a proper chair. 
Jeonghan scoffed. “She just doesn’t want to do the Minghao documentary.”
“There is no Minghao documentary,” you said. “There was never a Minghao documentary.”
“There was”—Jeonghan paused for long enough for the rest of them to think he had finished talking—“to me.”
Junhui leaned forward, nearly toppling over the laundry basket. Vernon was able to hold it down with his foot in time, although Junhui hardly even noticed his friend’s silent efforts to save him. 
“What’s the Minghao documentary?” he asked, his eyes bigger than ever. “Like, Xu Minghao?”
“Yes,” Jeonghan answered. “Wouldn't you watch a Xu Minghao documentary?” 
“I’d pay to watch a Xu Minghao documentary,” Junhui said, reaching over to high-five Jeonghan, who was extremely pleased that someone else supported his cause. “What can I say? He's a beautiful man.”
“Okay, there is no Xu Minghao documentary,” you repeated. “It's more of a… Xu Minghao dilemma.” 
“So you called us here because of Xu Minghao,” Vernon chimed in.
“No,” you replied pointedly, “I called you here because I really value your guys’ opinions and want to hear your suggestions about what I should include in my documentary.”
“Xu Minghao,” Jeonghan supplied.
“Except for Jeonghan. I don’t value his opinion.” 
“I think someone should die,” said Junhui with bright, sparkling eyes. “Something super tragic.”
“Or we can all live,” Seungkwan said.
Vernon offered, “Or how about something more sentimental—”
“—where everyone dies,” finished Junhui. 
“Okay, that wasn't what I was getting at,” Vernon said with mild concern crossing his features. “You scare me.”
Seungkwan, distressed at this point, spoke up louder to rehash, “Why don’t we all just live?”
You let out a resigned sigh. “Jun, let’s keep in mind that I’m filming a documentary for a college film class, not a Marvel movie.” 
This was going nowhere. Clearly, you misjudged when you decided your friends were the people to go to for serious inquiries. At this point, you were considering following up on the email you sent to the local ice skating rink a month ago, outright begging them for the chance to film their team practicing. (Spoiler: They ghosted you.) 
“How about the geology department?” Wonwoo suggested, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re researching crustal processes during the Hadean geological period right now. Exciting stuff.” 
Because Jeon Wonwoo was an incredibly persuasive man (mostly because of his lethal attractiveness), you were immediately swayed by the idea. “Wait, that’s an incredible idea, Wonwoo.”
“That is the worst idea I’ve heard in my life,” Seungkwan blurted out. “If you make a documentary about the geology department, I will personally come to the screening of your film myself just to throw tomatoes at you.”
As much as you hated to admit it (or, rather, hated to admit it in the presence of Wonwoo), Seungkwan had a fair point. Presenting a documentary about crustal formations was probably categorized as a form of social suicide. You had no true interest in the topic to make it sound interesting, and the only selling point would be geology major Jeon Wonwoo and his face of the century. The lackluster content coupled with your indifference toward rocks was a disaster waiting to happen. 
Maybe you could make geology sound interesting. You entertained the idea for a few seconds before recollecting the time when Wonwoo got four shots deep and started rattling off about the demand for lithium in China. Your freshman year self was almost charmed before those beguiling minutes stretched into long, torturous hours of Wonwoo breaking down geopolitics until you blacked out. 
No, you could not make geology sound interesting. 
“Thank you for that visual, Seungkwan,” you said. “Now that I’ve returned to my senses, I’ll accept ideas that aren’t about Xu Minghao or rocks.” 
“What’s wrong with the geology department?” Wonwoo spoke up, his hand shooting up in the air to get the room’s attention.
Jeonghan snorted. “Dude, what’s she gonna film? Planet Earth?”
Wonwoo accepted his defeat wordlessly as his arm slowly retreated back to his side.
“Not that I don’t think you can come up with better ideas,” Vernon started carefully, “but why are you so against making a documentary about Minghao?”
“I’m not against it,” you clarified. “It’s simply out of the question. He doesn’t even have time to dance right now because of how busy he is with the café.”
“If that’s the issue, I can literally ask around to see who’s interested in working there,” Jeonghan said.
“Minghao’s going through a lot right now. I personally think it’s insensitive to push him to do something when he’s got so much on his plate.”
The men finally quieted down at your words, and you came to the realization that your girl friends would have probably been more useful for this sort of conversation. Maybe it was because the guys were all on good terms with Xu Minghao that they were pushing for you to ask him to work with you. It was the only conclusion you could come to with how insistent they were on you choosing Minghao.
Then, Jeonghan spoke up, “Didn’t you say you wanted to make an impact with your documentary? What if you could really help him out?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Just think about it.”
Your forehead creased. He clearly did have something in mind and just wanted to complicate matters for you, but you held your tongue instead of pressing Jeonghan further. 
Later that night, while you were laying in your bed with your laptop warm on your stomach, you could only think about Xu Minghao and his sad smile when he talked about quitting dance. He didn’t really want to quit, but there was just too much going on for him to juggle that along with the countless other balls being thrown at him. 
But was it right for him to just quietly let go of his dream? A passion that he had chased his whole life? 
If you were in his shoes and you had to give up your dream of film, you weren’t sure you could go down without a fight. Even when your parents were against film school, even when everyone around you questioned your abilities, you pushed yourself to take on every opportunity that came your way. Your situation had never been as dire as Minghao’s, but you could imagine how he must have felt for his dream to crumble in the palm of his hands. With the right amount of support, you believed he could mold that dream together again. 
In the still hours of twilight, you opened up a Word document and started typing away like your life depended on it. 
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“You look like shit.” Kim Yooyeon’s eyes were wide when she watched you walk out of your room right when she was about to leave for her 8:00 a.m. lecture. She was in the middle of her bowl of cereal when you crossed her on your way to the couch. “Did you even sleep?” 
Your hand flew up to gently prod at the tender skin under your eyes. “Do I really look that tired?”
You all but fell against the couch, sinking into the cushions like it was quicksand. Normally, you could pour yourself a cup of coffee and get through the day, but you had accumulated enough sleep debt over the past few weeks to reach your breaking point. 
Your roommate snorted. “Remember when you stayed up for three days straight during finals week last year? You look exactly like how you did back then.”
Thanks to Jeonghan’s cryptic words, you ended up spending the entire night researching and planning ways for you to help Minghao—or, at least, what you thought would help Minghao. Your document spanned almost forty pages, and you weren’t even sure if you would be using any of it. Your intention was to share your proposals with Minghao in hopes that he would find at least one of them to possibly work out. 
The problem was: you were seconds away from falling asleep on the spot and your eyes felt sore every time you blinked. There was no way you could make it to Minghao’s coffee shop and deliver your pitch in this state. 
“I stayed up all night working on something for Minghao.”
Yooyeon’s spoon clattered against the bowl. “Xu Minghao?” 
You gave her the same rundown you gave your friends yesterday—a much more vague one because you didn't want to get into the nitty gritty details of Minghao’s life, especially when Yooyeon probably didn’t even care. Plus, you were too tired to get into the specifics. By the time you were finishing up your story, your mouth was hardly moving in time with your brain and your eyelids were drooping. You weren't even sure if you were speaking coherent sentences.
Yooyeon had her bag slung over her shoulder and was asking you something. You couldn't quite tell what it was because you were hanging by a thread at that point, but you definitely heard Jeonghan’s name at some point—maybe. All you could muster was a noncommittal sound before you drifted into a slumber.
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A flash of red behind your eyelids roused you from your dreamless sleep, but you didn’t have time to squint before the nuisance of a light source was instantly blocked. You opened your eyes to see Xu Minghao sitting by your feet, using his hand to block the ray of light that shone through the window and landed directly on your face. 
Perhaps you overreacted, but you were sure anyone would scream at the sight. 
“Sorry, did I scare you?” Minghao stood up, alarmed. 
Clearly. 
You scrambled to sit up while he awkwardly shifted to the middle of your living room. 
“No, Minghao, I was just warming up my vocal cords,” you deadpanned. “I don’t think it’s weird at all that you’re inside my apartment while I’m asleep.”
“Oh.” Minghao went still for a second. You watched the puzzled look on his face morph into one of dread once he seemed to understand how odd the situation looked. “Oh.”
After a few more moments of gawking at you, he started again, “This looks pretty bad.”
“Yeah, just a little.”
“I swear it’s not as creepy as it looks. Jeonghan said you wanted to see me, and then your roommate let me in. She told me to just wake you up, but I felt bad after a while. That’s why I just let you sleep.”
That must have been what Yooyeon was asking you while you were half-conscious, and you probably stupidly agreed despite not catching anything she said. This wasn’t how you wanted to talk to him; you needed time to mentally prepare yourself to meet Minghao—preferably in an outdoor setting where you were appropriately dressed—but now he had caught you completely off-guard.
It looked like he had just gotten back from the gym with his flushed cheeks and the sleeveless top that showed off his toned arms. When he raised his arm, you could even catch a glimpse of the infinity tattoo inked across his shoulder blade. 
“I can leave,” he suggested, unsure. 
“No, stay,” you said. “It’s just that I was gonna go see you on my own. How long have you been waiting here for, anyway?” 
“Maybe ten minutes? I tried calling your name, but you asked me to let you sleep a little longer.”
You flushed, mortified. On top of accidentally inviting Minghao over to wait for you to wake up, you were sleep-talking in front of him too? Any semblance of professionalism you had was crashing and burning before you. 
“I think I was sleep-talking with my roommate, too. That’s probably why she thought I needed to see you now,” you explained with a sheepish smile tugging at your lips. “Sorry about that.”
Minghao laughed and took a seat once he realized you weren’t going to shoo him out of the apartment anymore—or perhaps now he felt less guilty about showing up unexpectedly.
“So we’re even, right? Your stalking is forgiven,” you said, “but not forgotten.”
His eyes went wide with mock surprise, feigning a gasp. “Stalking? I could sue you for defamation of character.”
“Then sue me,” you challenged. “I have an outfit that I’ve been dying to wear in a courtroom.” Minghao raised his eyebrows with mild interest before you reached for your laptop on the coffee table. “Anyway, I wanted to show you something that could probably make you rethink that defamation lawsuit.”
You then turned to face him and clasped your hands together out of sheer desperation. “Please let me make you the star of my documentary.” 
Minghao blinked at you for a few seconds before asking, “The documentary for your class? You want me in it?”
You nodded eagerly. “It’ll be all about you—your dancing, the café—everything that shows how hard you’ve worked for your dreams.”
“I don’t know, Y/N…” He looked slightly uneasy at the prospect. “I might not have the time for this. I already have shifts at the café every day.”
“I think I have a solution for that, too.”
“That’s great and all, but either way, I don’t even know how much longer we’re gonna be able to keep the café running.”
“But Minghao, listen, I have it all planned out.” You scooted closer until your knees were bumping against his, and you angled your laptop for him to see the screen. “There’s a scholarship offering twenty thousand dollars, and they’re asking for a video submission on what success means to you. It’s specifically for the arts—something you’re passionate about.” 
“You mean…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on the screen.
“I say we kill two birds with one stone; I film the documentary for my final project while you use it to win that cash prize.”
Minghao looked from you, to the screen, and to you again. There was a suspension of fear across his face that was coupled with a sparkle of hope in his eyes. It looked as if stardust had scattered across his irises and lit them up. 
“Twenty thousand dollars,” he started before mouthing the words again in disbelief. “That kind of money could save the café.”
“And pay for nationals,” you added. “I stayed up all night planning this out. If you trust me, I think we can actually make this work.”
“You really think so? But do you really think people would be interested in watching something that’s just about my life?”
“No doubt about it. That face sells,” you deadpanned, which caused the tips of his ears to go an endearing shade of red. “I wouldn’t have done all this work if I didn’t think we could pull it off.”
“This is all assuming I even get selected.”
“I’ll make sure you do. It’ll be my best work yet.”
After Minghao spent a considerable amount of time scanning your document over and over again (you were pretty sure the words were probably burned into his brain by now), the corner of his mouth quirked into a mischievous smile. “So, how good are you?”
“Good at what?”
“Filmmaking. I’ve never seen your work.”
You folded your arms across your chest. “I’ll have you know that I’ve had plenty of experience. I’m just using you for my big break.” You didn’t realize you had stiffened up until you let your body relax. “Do you want to see something I’ve filmed?” 
“Can I?”
“Of course. I can’t have you agree to something before you know the standard of quality you’re getting,” you said with a prideful puff of your chest that deflated too quickly when you realized that you would have to show Minghao something so vulnerable. Maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal for him, but you shed your heart and soul into your craft; it was precious to you. You opened the video file and looked at him expectantly. “We don’t have to watch it.”
“No, I want to,” he said in a voice so earnest that you wanted to believe him. He focused on the file name at the top of the video player. “A Bite of Summer—what’s it about?”
“It’s pretty short. I’ll just play it for you.”
You hit play and moved the laptop onto Minghao’s lap instead, watching both the screen and his reaction to your videography. He was so zeroed in on the film that he hardly seemed to notice the way you kept glancing at him. 
Summer was sweltering. Growing up, you always spent your summers surrounded by friends and family, whether it was going to the beach or going to the park. Living in the moment was simple back then; you weren’t confined to responsibilities and commitments that kept you from enjoying what life had to offer. In fact, some of your best summer memories were shared with Minghao. The two of you laughed without a care in the world as the warmth of the sun enveloped you.
Once you entered high school, however, summer felt so humid that it was suffocating. You were up to your neck in assignments, exam preparation, and part-time jobs. It became difficult to enjoy your youth when you had countless hours of work to do. Coincidentally, it was your first summer spent without Minghao; you weren’t sure if things would’ve been any different if you two were still friends back then, but maybe it would’ve simmered the ache in your chest. 
Your short film, A Bite of Summer, was created amidst your summer blues. The film was about a girl named Rhea who meets her younger self at the beach she once used to frequent during the summer. It represented the relationship the older you had with your younger self; you were excited to grow and move forward as the seasons changed, but summer was always a bittersweet reminder that you had no time to grieve over your childhood. You didn't know what you lost until it was gone, but perhaps that made the memories even more precious. 
You were still looking at Minghao, but you could hear your main character, Rhea, asking her younger self, “Are you ever scared of growing up?”
Minghao was watching intently, hanging onto every word. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous about him watching. In your last year of middle school, you and Minghao began to have long conversations about how terrifying it was to grow up. He would open up about how much pressure he felt from balancing dancing and school, and you would tell him how you felt like you couldn’t breathe in the summer heat. Perhaps he had forgotten by now. Perhaps he wouldn’t connect your film back as being so personal to you.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his reaction during the scene where the younger Rhea reaches for the older Rhea’s hand, gripping tightly even as cold waves started to lap at their feet. Minghao watched quietly, dark eyebrows pulling together as he focused.
“I am,” the younger Rhea answered.
“You are?”
“It sounds exciting, but nothing scares me more.” You watched as Minghao’s lips parted, chestnut eyes glistening when she continued, “Maybe it doesn't feel that way because you don’t have to live through those hard times anymore, but I’m glad the good times stuck. That means this feeling will pass”—their hands dropped to their sides—“and yours will, too.” 
And that was when a tear fell from Xu Minghao’s feathery lashes. 
You’ve never witnessed anyone cry over the work you created. Sure, it tugged at your own heartstrings since it was so personal to you, but to watch someone else have such strong feelings over your film made tears well up in your eyes.
“Are… are you crying?” you stammered out, a tittering laugh following as Minghao used the pads of his thumbs to smear his tears off his cheeks. It was a pretty sight, like watching wet clay come undone before you. 
“It was really good,” he mumbled, giving you the most adorable pout you had ever seen on an adult man before turning his head away to keep wiping at his tears. “I’m serious. Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m just surprised. I’ve never seen someone react like that to my work.”
If you were just a little braver, you probably would’ve thanked him first before telling him that you were touched. You would’ve told him that no one had ever peeled back your layers without making it uncomfortable—sometimes even painful—but he handled you with so much delicacy. You would’ve told him that this film was about you, at your core, and perhaps he had already picked up on that, but you would’ve been brave enough to express yourself.
But you weren’t brave, so you just smiled at the lone tears that streaked Minghao’s face before he wiped them with his sleeve. 
“Seriously, you’re incredible,” he said, still staring at the paused video on your laptop. The corner of his mouth lifted. “That was so short and it still made me cry.”
You couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across your face. “You’re actually crying.” 
“Well, yeah. Are you having fun watching me suffer?”
Was it borderline psychopathic that you were smiling while Minghao cried? Probably. On the other hand, you were simply glad you didn’t burst into tears alongside him. You nearly felt like you could’ve with the way he got so emotional about your work. 
“A little,” you admitted. Surprisingly, that got a smile out of him. “I’m just happy you like it.”
“I do,” he said. A pause, then, “Why’s it called ‘A Bite of Summer,’ by the way?”
You scoffed. Actually, you had your reasons, but no one had ever asked you about that film specifically.
“I hate summer, that’s why,” you told him. “I can’t stand the heat.”
“Really?” His brows lifted. “I think summer’s pretty overrated, too.”
You cracked a grin. “No, you don’t. It’s your favorite season.”
“Hey, I can still acknowledge my favorite season’s overrated.”
He grinned and held the palm of his hand out to you. You were confused before Minghao gently grabbed your wrist and put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and giving you a firm shake. Your hands were too clammy to be gripping Minghao’s calloused palms, but he didn’t seem to mind. 
“Use me however you want, director,” he continued, and the sparkle in his eyes was something magnificent. “I’ll be your best star yet.”
“No lawsuit?” you asked.
Minghao laughed. “No lawsuit.”
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You were sweating like you had just run a marathon. (You practically did; the distance from your apartment to Jeonghan’s location in the library was a mile and a half, and you were sprinting half the time.)
Since you needed some time to plan out your filming, you exchanged contact information with Minghao and told him that you would contact him when you were ready. Your nerves were buzzing with excitement now that you actually had a subject for your documentary. Conversations with your classmates would no longer make you feel like you were desperately hurrying to catch up with everybody else. 
Your friends usually claimed the big table on the third floor. It was positioned at an optimal location next to the bathrooms and the elevator, so you were quite proud of your unassigned-assigned table. Junhui and Wonwoo were normally the ones who spent the most time in the library, whereas Seungkwan and Vernon usually only stopped by if they wanted to mess around. 
“You bitch,” you spat, pointing an accusatory finger at Jeonghan, who was trying to frantically wave off clouds of smoke when he coughed in surprise. You collapsed into the chair next to him, catching your breath while Junhui and Wonwoo hardly batted an eye. “You should be prosecuted for vaping in the library, by the way.”
“I know, right?” Junhui frowned disapprovingly. “Take it outside, Jeonghan.”
“Addiction kills,” Wonwoo added, doleful. 
“I was gonna ghost it!” Jeonghan cried in defense, lowering his voice toward the end once he realized they were, in fact, still inside the library. He turned back to face you. “Anyway, why am I a bitch again?”
“You invited Minghao into my apartment!”
“Okay, a lot of accusations here. What about a hi? A hello? A congrats-on-finding-your-vape-Jeonghan?” 
You fixed him with a glare. “It’s one accusation that has already been confirmed, Jeonghan. Start talking.”
“Yooyeon told me that you needed to see Minghao. All I did was pass along the message,” he explained before a smirk grew on his face. “So what did you need to see him for?” 
“Oh, right.” You cleared your throat. “I’ve decided on doing the Minghao documentary.”
Jeonghan’s lips parted in surprise, the corners of his lips twitching upward again. “Oh my god, you’re actually doing it! I mean, I had a feeling after Yooyeon called me, but…” 
“Good choice,” Junhui said. “He’s an absurdly attractive man.”
“Phenomenal face for the cameras,” Wonwoo agreed, humming along. 
“Okay, since when were you guys the Xu Minghao Fan Club?” You looked around the table and shook your head once you saw Junhui’s dreamy expression. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Point is, the Minghao documentary is in motion and I have a shit-ton to plan.” You turned to face Jeonghan. “You said you’d help out at the café, right? You’ll get paid, of course, but Minghao can’t keep taking shifts every day.” 
“They’re still having money problems?” Jeonghan asked.
“Unfortunately, but he said that hiring part-timers is better for them financially.”
He hummed, nodding along to your words. “Well, I didn’t say I’d be helping at the café, but I’ll find you someone.”
“They’ll still have to be interviewed, of course. Oh, and they’ll have to be trained, and—”
“Don’t even worry,” Jeonghan assured. “I have the perfect person in mind. Actually, I think I can find you a few more, too.”
“I’m a little scared.”
“When have I ever let you down?” Before you could point out that there had actually been a few instances, Jeonghan seemed to realize the flaw in his question and added, “Rhetorical question. Anyway, just leave it to me.”
To an extent, you did trust him. Not only was Jeonghan involved in several clubs and organizations on campus, but he was also a freshman orientation leader for two years in a row. This was especially useful in the sense that he had connections to students you had never even seen in your life; when you used to have inquiries on subjects you wanted to film, you always asked Jeonghan for any references, and he almost always had a name in mind.
After a pause, your friend gave you a quizzical look. “Did you run all the way over here just to say that?”
“Uh…” 
“You know you could’ve just texted me, right? Or called? Modern technology works wonders, Y/N.”
“Oh—right.”
Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so excited over something that you full-on sprinted to tell your friends. It begged the question of whether you would be this ecstatic if you weren’t filming a certain someone. The ice skating rink surely wouldn’t have gotten this reaction out of you. 
You were fairly certain you knew the reason behind your lapse in judgement, and it was becoming clear that Xu Minghao was tangled right in the center of everything. 
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Filming started the following Monday. 
You captured Minghao throughout his everyday life at first, which meant you had to follow him around all day to compile footage. Mentally, you weren’t very prepared for this. Following Minghao from campus, to the café, to his dance studio, and wherever else he decided to venture made you feel as if you were intruding. It was as if you were peaking into a world that you weren’t allowed into. 
He wasn’t that great when it came to school as a kid, but now Minghao really tried to study hard, even if that meant dozing off in the middle of reading a page of his textbook. Just a few days ago, he invited you over for a movie, and you were really supposed to be editing your footage, but you caved within minutes of him asking. You remembered Minghao had always been a sucker for coming-of-age movies, but you were dumbfounded when he shed tears during Little Women. (What you wouldn’t dare tell him was how endearing you found him). 
You toed the line as someone between a friend and a stranger; perhaps to Minghao you would be considered a friend, but you weren’t quite sure why you couldn’t see yourself fitting in that space again. Still, as you filmed him and shot his interviews, you were so intrigued by the new sides of him that kept coming up, as well as the parts you nearly forgot about. It felt strange to hear such sincere accounts of Minghao from the interviews with his instructors and peers, yet to be the one behind the camera that couldn’t hold onto him before.
Today, he was waiting for you at 11:30 a.m. sharp outside of the Arts building. It had been a little over a month since you and Minghao started working together, but you were more worried about the scholarship deadline than your own assignment’s deadline. Filming was going smoothly, but you still needed to get interviews from his friends and family. Editing the dance footage was going to take the entire night since you were in the studio for hours. 
You were overwhelmed, to say the least. 
Minghao was finished with classes for the day while you had an annoyingly long gap between your morning and evening classes. You were supposed to shoot some B-roll, but that completely slipped both of your minds as you were well into scarfing down the breakfast wraps you two had bought before sitting on a cold bench.
Dark, gray clouds moved like smoke across the sky. It was getting chillier, and you were suddenly reminded of when you’d wait for the school bus with Minghao in middle school. He was always carrying around hand warmers back then, offering you one without fail whenever you started to shiver. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder without thinking too deeply about how close you were. Now, with the awkward gap between you two, you wished you could go back to those simpler times. 
Maybe you were already considered friends. Maybe you were overthinking all of this.
You rarely analyzed your other friendships this thoroughly.
You would rather shrivel up and die than admit that you missed being the closest to Minghao, but whenever he said something particularly sweet or gave you that gentle smile where his eyes crinkled at the corners, you felt your heart soar just a little higher. Maybe—just maybe—if he pressed enough, he would get it out of you.
“I told my mentor I’m gonna keep practicing for nationals,” he said once he was waiting for you to finish the last few bites of your wrap, “and I told my mom about the scholarship. It took some time trying to convince her that it could actually work.”
“She was against it?”
“At first, yeah. I mean, I don’t blame her. We’re doing this on the off-chance I get selected—nothing’s guaranteed.” He gave you a crooked smile. “But, at the end of the day, it could save our café, so she’s touched that you’re trying.”
You took the last bite of your wrap instead of replying. Of course Minghao meant well, but you couldn’t help but feel your stomach pitted with anxiousness at the mention of how everything was riding on this film. It made you feel even worse because Minghao had more to lose than you did. Nationals and an assignment grade; it was almost ridiculous how high-stakes his situation was compared to yours.
“Jeonghan actually managed to find part-timers for the café,” he continued. “They’re coming by in the afternoon.”
“That’s good news, right? You sound surprised.”
“I am surprised. We hardly get people who wanna work there.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s not as convenient as an on-campus job, so most people aren’t willing to walk that far for a part-time job when they can easily find something closer.”
You didn’t mind the commute yourself, but you only visited the café occasionally; it would’ve been a different story if you were heading to work there every single day. You hoped whoever Jeonghan found was actually committed to their job.
Then, Minghao asked, “What’re you gonna be filming today?”
“I was thinking we can get some footage of you training the newbies,” you said. “Speaking of, now that you have more employees, does this mean you won’t have to work at the café as much?”
He grinned brightly. “My shifts are cut down to three days a week now. I’ll have plenty of time to focus on dance. We have other employees to train the new guys, too, so it’s not all on me.” Minghao then leaned in a little closer (making you laser-focused on stepping on every crunchy leaf at your feet to ignore how your brain was spinning) to say, “Jeonghan thinks there'll be a lot more girls coming to the café.”
“Because of the new baristas?”
He shrugged. “They’re good-looking guys.”
You thought back to the demographic of cafégoers when you first visited Café du Soleil. The majority were, in fact, teenage girls. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you discovered that Minghao’s face was the selling point, but to have multiple men like him working there? Not only were you worried that the coffee shop would turn into the Ouran Host Club, but you simply couldn’t picture even more people of the same visual caliber as Xu Minghao. 
Before you could reply, Minghao noted your pause and asked, “What’re you thinking about?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Curious about what?”
When you looked at him, his gaze frantically scattered about before he returned to looking down at his wadded-up wrapper. You wouldn’t have found it weird if you caught him looking at you, but the fact that he looked away so quickly made you feel conscious of how warm you were getting under your jacket. 
“Just wondering if they’re really all that. I find it hard to believe that whoever Jeonghan called is gonna bring in more of a crowd than you already do.”
Minghao looked baffled before he chuckled. “I don’t bring in a crowd.”
“There were so many girls when I visited yesterday! Didn’t you notice them giggling after you left their table?”
“They were probably just giggling over whatever teenage girls giggle over.”
Minghao was oblivious by nature. He was also a man, therefore he was stupid. 
Coupled together, it was a disastrous combination that resulted in wildly attractive Xu Minghao being utterly useless when it came to recognizing that he was blessed with a first-rate genetic sequence. 
“Hao,” you started slowly, “teenage girls giggle over guys.” 
“Oh.” He frowned, and you held yourself back from rolling your eyes as you witnessed him take actual offense to what was supposed to be a compliment. You figured he had deeply misunderstood what you were getting at.
“Cute guys,” you corrected.
“Oh.”
You straightened up and stared back at him, bewildered. “You don’t even know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Your—” Unable to articulate what you were trying to say (partly because it was far too embarrassing to outrightly call Minghao attractive), you made a dramatic gesture to refer to his face. “That!” 
To your horror, he turned incredibly smug. “What, my face? What about it?” 
“Uh…”
“Are you trying to say I look good, Y/N?”
This just in: Xu Minghao was a sick and twisted man. 
In this very exact, very precise moment, you felt the most vulnerable you had ever been in front of the dancer, and he was using the very opportunity to humiliate you even further. 
“I’m speaking objectively,” you said. 
“You’re objectively saying I look good.”
“Yes.”
“What about subjectively?”
“Can we circle back to the café instead?” you offered, buffering as if you had to muster up the strength to push the words out through your teeth. “I’d much rather talk about the café.”
“Really? I was having more fun talking about how objectively and subjectively good I look.”
A groan fell from your lips. “You objectively and subjectively need to shut up.”
Minghao laughed at your reaction before standing up and reaching into his pockets. “C’mon, let’s get going before it gets late,” he said and pulled out a hand warmer from his coat, holding it out to you. “Here.”
You took it from him. “What’s this for?”
“You’ve been shivering this whole time.”
While Minghao chatted your ear off on the way to Café du Soleil, all you could think about was how he surprisingly paid attention to the little details about you that most people would miss. You were formulating a rough theory in your head: Xu Minghao had to be some sort of otherworldly being because there was no other explanation for how perfect he was. 
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Yoon Jeonghan was going to the deepest circle of Hell.
As soon as you saw Choi Seungcheol in an apron, you knew your insufferable friend had an agenda of his own when he was scouting out potential baristas. To Jeonghan’s credit, the other two baristas he found seemed like they had been objectively scouted (no offense to Seungcheol, but you were 99% sure Jeonghan just wanted a chance to see the man as frequently as possible).
“That’s Chan.” Jeonghan jerked his chin in the direction of the younger guy who was fumbling with the cash register, and then you followed his gaze over to the barista who was fixing an acrylic pin of Elphaba from Wicked to his apron. “And that one’s Seokmin.”
Apparently, Jeonghan met Lee Seokmin through a hiking club. More specifically, Jeonghan met Seokmin at a hiking club party while they were trying to puke their guts out in the same bush. 
Lee Chan, on the other hand, was a family friend’s son that Jeonghan adored. You recalled him bringing Chan to a college party once and never again; the high school senior was later given twenty bucks to keep his mouth shut about Jeonghan hitting his vape. 
After his eyes lingered on his eye candy (read: Seungcheol) for a ridiculously long amount of time, Jeonghan finally noticed the reproachful look you were giving him. “What?”
“I know damn well you just wanted to get Seungcheol in an apron.”
“No,” Jeonghan sneered, as if he was disgusted by your accusation. “I was trying to see him with his sleeves rolled up. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever, dude. They both boil down to you being a whore.”
“Hey, I mention a hiring notice to the man I want,” Jeonghan started with an air of confidence, leaning back in his seat to take a sip of his latte, “and you turn yours into the star of your film. We’re basically birds of a feather here.”
You nearly choked over your own drink (the mango fruit tea—again), and you were suddenly grateful that Minghao was currently training the newbies behind the counter despite feeling jealous earlier about them getting most of his attention. It was a relief that you two were alone at a table and out of earshot. Jeonghan needed to stay far, far away from Minghao; he was clearly not to be trusted to run his mouth around the dancer. 
You gave him an incredulous look, ignoring the burst of heat that exploded within your chest. “First of all, lower your voice before someone hears you and actually takes you seriously. Second of all, what?” 
“What’s wrong with me wanting Seung—”
“I’m talking about the other part!”
“I said what I said—and if you think about it, you’re crazier than I am.”
“Excuse me?” Your whisper might as well have been a shout. You quieted down again before speaking, “I’m not crazy, and I don’t want Hao.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jeonghan replied, unconvinced, “So you’re telling me that you didn’t feel any sort of way after he gave you a piggyback ride home from the club last week?”
It would be impossible to forget, even if you were blasted out of your mind. After much persuasion from Seungkwan and Jeonghan, you were convinced to invite Minghao last-minute to your night out. You were already several drinks in when he finally showed up at the club, so your first instinct was to throw yourself into his arms. Not your finest moment. But he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer by the waist, so you couldn’t help but let yourself get carried away. 
Several shots later, you found it impossible to walk with how your balance was completely off. Minghao, being the knight in shining armor he was, opted to carry you home on his back while holding onto your heels. 
You settled for saying, “He was just being nice.”
“That wasn’t my question, and I don’t think he was just trying to be nice.”
“Is it so hard for you to believe that he’s just a genuinely good guy?”
“Well, he is, but it’s not like you guys just film your little documentary and move on with your lives after,” Jeonghan said. “He hangs out with you, texts you every day, finds literally any excuse to invite you over, and you guys even bought matching pajamas!”
“They were on sale!”
“Lots of things were on sale, Y/N; it was literally Black Friday.”
“It was Cyber Monday,” you corrected in a grumble. 
“You specifically chose the pajamas to wear with him.”
“We’re friends,” you insisted, although it sounded like you were more so trying to convince yourself than Jeonghan. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the undercurrent of your emotions tugging at your ankles, but that was not a revelation you were meant to have at Café du Soleil with Minghao in your vicinity. “We’re just doing what friends do.”
Jeonghan slurped his drink in a ridiculously loud manner. You shot him a disapproving look.
“You know what I think?”
You were certain that you didn’t want to hear what Jeonghan thought, but nevertheless, you entertained his attempts to provoke you. “What now?” you snapped.
“I think you’re still hurt by how you two drifted apart—you and Hao,” he said, “and you’re probably thinking it’s gonna happen again. That’s why you’re too scared to admit he’s being a little more than nice to you.”
Bullseye. Jeonghan had watertight intuition when it came to the people he was close with, and you were no exception. His words were so on the mark that you felt vulnerable and exposed, like your skin was suddenly clinging too tight around your bones.
The thing was, you still couldn’t exactly remember how you and Minghao grew distant. You recalled the throng of memories of when you two were friends, but everything leading up to your falling out was hazy. Could you even call it a falling-out if there weren’t necessarily any hard feelings? He certainly hadn’t done anything that made you want to block him out of your memory (it was Xu Minghao, for God’s sake), but you couldn’t imagine why you would be so hurt over growing apart from an old friend.
“You really chose the worst possible time and place for this conversation,” was all you could mutter in response.
“We have air conditioning and cheesecake. What could possibly be better than this?” 
Whether Jeonghan was selective about what he chose to be perceptive about or simply didn’t understand the gravity of this situation, you couldn’t tell; you just gave him a dumbfounded stare. “Anywhere else! Anywhere else would’ve been better!”
“You’re so picky.”
“And you can’t read the room.”
“You know what I can read,” he started with a cheeky grin while his eyes focused on something—or someone—else behind you, “Xu Minghao’s name tag.”
“Oh, do you like it? I drew Seungkwan’s dog and Vernon’s cat next to my name,” came a breezy voice from behind you, making your heart plummet to your stomach. 
How long had he even been standing there? You thought you could just ignore Minghao, but you found yourself turning around to see his two pets he doodled on his nametag. Unfortunately, they were cute, but you were still too mortified to give him a proper reaction.
“How—how long have you been there for?” you stammered. “Did you hear what we were talking about?”
Minghao raised a brow. “Not long. Why? Is it something I’m not supposed to hear?”
You balked before answering, “No,” but the inflection in your tone made you sound as if you were questioning yourself. 
(Jeonghan made direct eye contact with you and mouthed the word pussy. You made a mental note to deal with him later in a potentially homicidal manner.)
“By the way, Jeonghan, the guys you brought in are doing great,” Minghao went on to praise. “I don’t think we even need to train them for that long. Seokmin’s a natural at this.”
Jeonghan let out a wistful sigh. “I knew I recognized his potential.”
“Didn’t you guys meet at a party? How’d he manage to show barista potential?” you asked.
“I was thirsty and he brought me water.”
Nice. That was one way to prove himself, you supposed. 
Then, Minghao turned his attention to you. “Were you gonna get some more shots today? Chan says he won’t make a run for it if he sees the camera this time.”
Earlier, you were trying to film Minghao showing Chan the proper technique of steaming milk, which Chan hardly was able to pay attention to because he was too busy gawking at the camera. As soon as Minghao was done talking, the high schooler hurried into the break room. 
“I think I got everything I needed,” you answered, tilting your head up to see him smiling fondly down at you. The look in his eyes made you feel like something syrupy was trickling down your throat, as if you were drowning in his endearment. “Why’d you call Jeonghan over here, anyway? He’s pissing me off.”
As expected, your words got a rise out of Jeonghan. “All I did was sit here!” 
“And you opened your mouth. That’s basically a misdemeanor.” 
“Jeonghan, quit bothering her,” Minghao scolded. (“What? What the hell? What did I do?” Jeonghan went on to complain. “This is going in my Yelp review, by the way—one star for betrayal and terrible customer service.”) He looked back at you with a softened gaze as Jeonghan’s maundering turned into background noise. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?” 
You were about to head out, but your legs suddenly didn’t feel like moving once Minghao looked at you with those warm eyes of his that made your insides feel like they had been doused in kerosene and lit aflame. 
Jeonghan, who was hell-bent on his mission to push you and Minghao closer as much as you resisted, appeared to take your hesitation as an opportunity. 
“We’re going back to my apartment to smoke,” your friend declared. Although that had never been the plan, you kept your mouth shut to see where Jeonghan was going with this. “You coming, Hao?”
Minghao snuck a glance at you. “Tonight? I don’t know. I might be free.”
“Holy shit,” Jeonghan gushed before Minghao’s words could even properly register in your ears, leaning over the table to put his hand on top of yours. “I should invite Soonyoung. Remember? The guy from our orientation group that you thought was cute?” 
Of course you remembered Kwon Soonyoung. How could anyone forget a face like that? But you wanted to reach over the table and strangle Jeonghan for bringing him up in the worst possible context and potentially screwing up your non-existent love life for good. As you fought down your murderous tendencies and glanced nervously between the boys, however, you noticed a muscle in Minghao’s jaw twitch. 
You started, “Soonyoung? I mean, sure, but—”
“Actually, I’ll be there,” Minghao cut in, his face void of emotion. “What time?”
Jeonghan simpered, quite pleased with himself. “Eight?” 
“Sounds good.”
Without another word, the barista walked off, leaving you in stunned silence. Did you just witness Xu Minghao get jealous? There was no way for you to spin this as anything else; it was pure, unadulterated envy that bled out of him. 
As your face grew increasingly hot, you spoke in a frantic, hushed voice, “He cut me off. He cut me off! Have you ever seen Hao that mad? I’ve never seen him that mad.”
But Jeonghan didn’t seem the least bit worried at all. In fact, he looked far too smug. “He’s really mad, isn’t he?” 
“What’d you say all that for? I don’t think I can handle Hao and Soonyoung in the same room after this. I haven’t even brought up Soonyoung since last year, you douchebag!”
“Relax,” Jeonghan replied coolly. “I’m not inviting Soonyoung. I just said that to fuck with Hao.” A Cheshire-like grin spread across his face, and he pulled out his phone to start tapping away in front of you. “I’ve never seen him that jealous before. Maybe you should wear something nice and lace—”
“Shut up,” you interrupted with a scowl. “There were never any plans to begin with, were there?”
“Yes, there were—now,” he said, causing you to groan at the end. “I just told the group chat about it. You can thank me later.”
“I am not thanking you for the amount of torment you just put me through,” you said, hesitated, then stiffly added, “but thank you.” 
“See? I’m always looking out for you.” He gave you a sincere look. “Now do me a solid and please get Seungcheol to show up.”
“I knew there was a catch.”
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yoon jeonghan: smoke sesh at my place @ 9  yoon jeonghan: be there or our friendship’s over
boo seungkwan: i have no weed  boo seungkwan: lost my vape too
you: real hustlers would never make excuses
wen junhui: she’s right
vernon chwe: i have your vape seungkwan
boo seungkwan: wtf give it back boo seungkwan: wait my vape with vernon’s saliva 🤤
vernon chwe questioned “wait my vape with vernon’s saliva 🤤”
you: alright chill
boo seungkwan: if i close my eyes i can almost taste him
vernon chwe: um. vernon chwe: i'd like to give it back because it’s yours but idk if i should anymore 
jeon wonwoo: Why are we having a smoke sesh on a random ass day  jeon wonwoo: I have a midterm tomorrow
boo seungkwan: leave tomorrow’s problems for a Tomorrow You
jeon wonwoo: True jeon wonwoo: Ok see u guys there
yoon jeonghan: i’ll provide the smoke sesh essentials
wen junhui: i have 11 edibles wen junhui: each person gets 1 and fight to the death over the rest
boo seungkwan: pog
you: thanks for that
jeon wonwoo: Amazing
vernon chwe: incredible
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You were blasted out of your mind.
True to his word, Jeonghan didn’t invite Soonyoung to his gathering; and true to your word, you roped Minghao into bringing Seungcheol along. 
You were initially worried that things would be awkward between you and Minghao, but he seemed to be in a significantly better mood by the time you got to talk to him. He didn’t even know that this whole night had been Jeonghan’s maniacal plot to set you guys up, so Minghao was completely oblivious when Seungkwan ushered him to sit next to you on the couch. 
The night started off with Junhui passing out his edibles and auctioning off his last three to whoever did the best animal impression (one went to Minghao, one went to Jeonghan, and one went to Vernon). You were content with your one edible because you never had that strong of a weed tolerance, and halfway into watching Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle, you felt your eyes starting to grow heavy.
There were two types of people when high, though: one was you, who could probably be considered motionless and inanimate; and the other was someone like Seungkwan, whose not-so-wise ideas seemed to increase tenfold.
And, of course, since Harold and Kumar wanted to go to White Castle, Seungkwan and Vernon wanted to go on an adventure, too. 
After much planning (which you weren’t part of because your body felt as if it was sinking into the couch cushions), your friends mobilized their efforts to come up with a scheme to bring back food from three different restaurants at once. They split themselves up into teams; Jeonghan and Seungcheol were going to Taco Bell, Seungkwan and Vernon were going to Panera Bread, and Junhui and Wonwoo were going to Chipotle.
If you were sober, you probably would have reminded them that UberEats still existed—or that they should probably look up the closing hours.
Naturally, you and Minghao were left in Jeonghan’s apartment. You didn’t mind because they promised to bring back food, but Jeonghan had definitely orchestrated getting you alone with Minghao. This meant you were probably expected to make a move or do whatever else was deemed entertaining in their eyes.
“Why didn't you go with them?” you asked Minghao. Everything seemed much more amusing to you all of a sudden, like the tuft of his hair that just wouldn't stay down. 
“I’d rather stay here.” He shrugged and nudged your arm with his elbow. “Why? Do you want me to go?” he teased.
You reached over and patted down the strands of hair that kept sticking up. “No, stay. I need a witness if Jun’s edibles kill me.”
He laughed. “You’re not gonna die.”
“I am.” You placed a hand against your chest, right where your heartbeat thundered at lightning speed. “Please don’t be mad at me if I flatline.”
“No, you’re fine,” he said, taking your hand and placing it over his heart. His heartbeat was fast but probably not as fast as yours. “See? They’re the same.”
You thought Xu Minghao should’ve done the right thing for your heart and not look so devastatingly good all the time, but he always managed to catch you off-guard with that sickeningly sweet smile of his. He also should’ve been making an effort to not touch you so casually when your heart was already running at a million miles per hour. It wasn’t very fair that you were cursed to control your emotions every time you saw him from a decidedly good angle (which was almost every angle). You needed to bury whatever you were feeling before he entered a dangerous territory of your heart. 
On second thought, you weren’t sure you could keep him out.
“No, they’re not,” you said. “I think it’s because of the weed and the fact that you’re very close.”
You swore you saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips, but Minghao expertly concealed it by raising a brow at you instead. “Oh? You’re blaming it on me now?”
“Blame is a strong word.”
Even he couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin from appearing on his face as he leaned in closer. “Then why am I such a problem for your heart, Y/N?” 
“I don’t know,” you muttered. “You just are.”
“Does it have anything to do with me being objectively good-looking?”
You groaned. “You won’t let that one go, will you?”
“Unfortunately for you, I think I like where this is going.”
Something very dangerous was brewing in your chest.
You weren't sure if it was the weed that was making you bolder, but the haze was surely letting down your inhibitions. Instead of feeling like you were sinking deeper into the couch, you felt like you were gravitating closer to Minghao. 
“Will you ever give me an answer?” he asked, and your breath caught in your throat when he delicately held your chin with two fingers, turning your head to look at him. 
“No, I don’t think so.”
He pouted, and then you mocked his pout in return.
And just when you thought he was done messing with you, Xu Minghao dipped his head to seal his lips over yours, kissing your pout away. 
Alarmed, you pulled back immediately, your eyes wide and unblinking as you stared at him in shock. He didn’t seem all that fazed himself, but he pressed his lips together tightly and withdrew his hand slowly. It was a short-lived kiss, but you were so close to getting hooked and losing all semblance of self-control.
“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.
“W-why are you sorry?” you stuttered, pitchy. 
“I should’ve asked first.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
You shook your head to clear the mess of tangled thoughts. This was the worst possible conversation to be having while you were both high out of your minds, but you were also feeling a lot more courageous now that you knew that Minghao actually wanted to kiss you. 
You wanted to kiss him, too. Now that you had a taste, you couldn’t resist thinking about how his lips would feel against yours again, how he would touch you again with such tenderness.
“Sorry, I thought you were asking,” you said.
“Asking what?”
“To kiss me.”
“Oh.” Minghao went silent for an entire minute. (You counted the seconds.) You watched as he stared blankly into space before the weight of your words seemed to finally register. “Oh.”
Your face felt hot. “Don’t just oh me.”
Minghao chuckled in response. He shifted so that he was turned toward you, one of his hands finding purchase on the back of your neck and the other on your knee. You nearly forgot how to breathe as you were so focused on how his touch burned your skin.
“No, I was just thinking about how cute you are,” he clarified. 
“Huh?” You were pretty sure your voice was an octave higher, judging by how Minghao now looked even more amused by you. “Cute?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” His hand started to inch up from your knee, torturously moving up and down. You swallowed thickly. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
You choked out a laugh. “Are you kidding?”
“I’m dead serious,” he insisted, and you could tell he was by the way his eyes darkened and his hand slid higher up your thigh. “You know I’m not a liar, Y/N.”
When you didn’t respond, he lowered his voice and continued, “You know, a big part of dancing is about the finer details.” Minghao’s hand dragged across your skin so slowly that you couldn’t hold in your trembling breath full of want. “I always make sure to pay extra attention, so I think you can trust me when I tell you you’re pretty.”
For a moment, you were floundering for words. You were already feeling dizzy by his mere touch, and then he went on to say something that made you feel even more feverish. Xu Minghao truly was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 
“Here,” he said, “let me just show you.”
He moved the hand on your thigh to grip your chin again, pressing a few tentative, experimental kisses to your lips before finally capturing them in a longer, desperate manner. Your heartbeat was hardly a rhythm anymore, just a steady line of white noise that rushed loudly in your ears. Kissing Minghao was addicting, and as you moved your arms to wrap around his neck, you found yourself losing the last shred of control that was keeping you from him. 
By the time Minghao made the daring decision to slide his hand up your shirt, you two had been kissing each other senselessly. Your legs were haphazardly strewn across his lap while he bent you down to kiss you at a better angle. 
Part of you was worried that this was moving too fast; the other half was begging you to speed up.
You couldn’t make sense of anything when his tongue slid against yours so languidly, sending delightful shivers up your spine. One of your hands moved up to entangle your fingers in his roots, tugging just enough to have him groaning into the kiss. 
Just when you were certain things were going to escalate further—and god, did you want them to escalate—a loud knock at the door had you and Minghao pulling apart like two magnets with opposite poles. 
“I don’t have a key!” Junhui’s muffled yell was heard through the door. 
You and Minghao exchanged a look before he stood up to get the door. You ran a hand through your hair to look presentable again, even though your half-lidded eyes were a dead giveaway that you were floating elsewhere, high up in the clouds. 
With his taste still on your lips, the tangle of an unspoken truth wound itself tighter around your throat. 
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You used The Kiss™ as an excuse for some space. The excuse you gave Minghao, however, was that you “needed a week for editing.” 
This was a (white) lie for two reasons:
Minghao wasn't going to interfere with your editing process to the extent of needing to completely push him away.
You definitely did not need a full week for editing.
The cherry on top of your excellent decision-making was that it only took you a little over a day to start missing Minghao again. 
The worst part of it all was that being the sweetest man to grace this planet, Minghao understood you right away and stopped texting you immediately. And, of course, you started to overthink his silence, as if you weren’t the one who needed time. 
After you and Minghao had been rudely interrupted by Junhui and Wonwoo, the two of you carried on like nothing happened. Apparently, Jeonghan had been very strategic about where he made everyone go to pick up food: Chipotle was close by, and he claimed it was important that you and Minghao didn’t spend too much time alone in case things got awkward; and the other two were mostly for Jeonghan’s convenience (Panera Bread because he wanted a charged lemonade, and Taco Bell because it was the farthest away and gave him more time to be alone with Seungcheol). There were good intentions, yes, but you were bitter because the only part of Jeonghan’s plan that was supposed to benefit you was the part that ended up cockblocking you.
The guys made it impossible for you to get some alone time with Minghao for the rest of the night. You couldn’t even see him the next day because you ended up sleeping in so late that Minghao was gone by the time you woke up. 
Going back to your apartment the next morning felt like The Walk of Shame. 
Now, you were sprawled across the couch in your living room, laptop warm on your stomach as you sifted through your camera footage. Yooyeon was sitting on the carpet and doing her nails at the coffee table. Earlier in the morning, when you gave her the rundown of the events from last night, The Kiss™ had her jumping on the couch for so long that you ended up banishing her to the floor.
“After everything you just told me,” Yooyeon said, “I think you should just tell him how you feel. Don’t mince your balls. Just get right to the point.”
“Mince my balls? I don’t think that’s an expression.” You paused for what felt like forever until the appropriate idiom dawned on you. “It’s mince your words, dumbass, not mince your balls.”
“Mince your words, mince your balls—same thing.”
“It’s really not.”
“Okay, but you two have had this weird back-and-forth for, like, a month now,” she said. “It’s not like he’s gonna say no to a date.”
“But what if he does say no?”
Yooyeon rolled her eyes. “You guys literally kissed. Pretty sure that’s a free pass to ask him out.”
You thought back to Jeonghan’s words, how he suggested that you were still hurt by you and Minghao drifting apart in middle school and that you subconsciously thought it could happen again. It was uncharacteristic for you to hold a grudge this long, though, but you really couldn’t remember what was the turning point that made you feel like you had to walk on eggshells around him. 
After putting your headphones over your ears, you clicked on the next video file to decide whether you were saving it for the film or not. The thumbnail that popped up was Minghao’s arm around your shoulders while you were trying to record the both of you sharing takoyaki outside. It was one of the videos that you took for fun in the middle of your shoot, but the sight made your heart flutter in your chest.
“I’ll feed you,” Minghao in the video said, a wide grin on his face as he stabbed a toothpick into a takoyaki ball and inched it closer to your lips. “Careful, it’s hot.”
Your face twisted as soon as the searing hot takoyaki hit your tongue. You remembered how you were about to drop your camera and spit the takoyaki out, but in order to not embarrass yourself in front of Minghao and everyone else around you, it was crucial that you kept your composure. 
“I said it was hot!” Minghao exclaimed when you shot him an icy glare. 
As you attempted to eat the takoyaki without burning your tongue, some of the batter dribbled down your chin. You let out a muffled yelp when it scalded your skin, pointing frantically at the mess you were making. It looked like your lips were trying to frame the word tissue, but you immediately covered your mouthful of takoyaki with your hand. 
Minghao laughed at you, a dimple carving into the corner of his lip. “Stay still. Let me get it for you.” 
The video cut right while Minghao was wiping your chin with a spare napkin. You remembered how gentle his hold was on your face, as if you were fine china. The fond smile fixed on his face wasn’t doing your heart any favors. You glanced over at Yooyeon to make sure she was too preoccupied with her nails to catch the growing smile that kept creeping onto your lips.
When you opened the next video file, the thumbnail wasn’t a frame you recognized. Minghao was in his dance studio, facing the camera at the full-length mirror to capture his entire body. You remembered the exact day he must have filmed this because he let you attempt to braid his hair on the bus ride home. 
“Hey, Y/N, I’m recording this without your permission,” he started, a mischievous grin playing on his face. “Since you’re out getting snacks, I’ve decided to vlog the choreo I just came up with.”
This time, you realized too late that your face had broken into a smile so affectionate that Cupid may as well have sent an arrow right through your chest. You were seven minutes into watching Minghao trying to master his self-made choreography when it finally hit you that you had spent the entire month with Minghao—laughing, hanging out, watching movies, going on long drives, studying at his café, and getting to know him all over again. All of that was under the pretext of filming your documentary, but now that you were realizing there was no excuse for you to be around him anymore, a strange feeling of apprehension consumed you.
You could say that you and Minghao were friends now, but your life had become so intertwined with his that you weren’t sure how you would feel when things went back to normal. 
Your attention snapped back to your laptop screen when Minghao stopped dancing to speak to the camera again. 
“I know you’re probably procrastinating on editing this, so you owe me five dollars if you haven’t watched this by the 19th,” he said. You checked the clock to confirm that it was, indeed, past said date and well into the week after. Just as you were about to make a note to send Minghao the money, he lowered his voice and continued, “But, since you watched till the end, I’ll tell you a secret. You can’t tell anyone, though, especially not Jeonghan!” 
You noticed his face was flushed a faint shade of pink when he confessed, “Now I’m only telling you this because it’s been bothering me for weeks. You never brought it up, but… I intentionally didn’t warm up your injeolmi toast that day because I wanted you to bring it back so that we could, um… talk, I guess. I still can’t believe you ate the whole thing without realizing.”
Your heart stuttered—tripped, fell over, got up again, repeated the process—and, oh, you were a discombobulated mess on the inside. 
Minghao chuckled to himself and started going off on a tangent about the injeolmi toast, but you were unable to move on from what he had said. (“You know it’s supposed to be warmed up, right? I figured you just didn’t know because you’ve never had it… maybe I should’ve given you the wrong drink instead.”)
The answer was jammed in your throat like a pill you couldn’t swallow: you liked Xu Minghao. 
And, strangely enough, the feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. 
You remembered exactly what it was like to long for the sun. You’d fallen in love with all of Minghao long before. A rush of repressed feelings from your middle school years bubbled to the surface, and perhaps they didn’t make any sense to you in the past, but it was all too clear now. What you felt for Minghao wasn’t anything new; your first love blossomed long ago, and you plucked out all the petals of your feelings before they could grow any further. 
You just didn’t nip enough of them in the bud. 
If you remembered correctly, you and Minghao started growing apart the day he got his first girlfriend. It wasn’t that you two had a proper argument or fell out, but you safeguarded yourself from the heartbreak by distancing yourself until you were out of each other’s lives. He must have been too caught up in his new relationship to realize it himself, but of course you couldn’t blame him when you were the one who pulled away first. 
But things were different now. You were different now. 
In the past, you made sure to swallow your feelings down, no matter how painful and thick they were lodged in your throat. Now, however, despite how hard you tried to suppress them, you felt as if you were glowing in the light of reciprocated love. It was maddening—agonizing even—but so wonderful. 
“I think I like him, Yooyeon,” you blurted out, only looking in your roommate’s direction when you heard her knocking over her collection of press-on nails. The mess was hardly a concern to her right now, though. “Minghao, I mean.”
“Can I tell Jeonghan?” 
You reached around your laptop to grab a throw pillow and whack her over the head with it. “I’m having the most insane revelation of my life and pouring my heart out to you here, and your first instinct is to tell Jeonghan?” 
“Okay, damn, I’ll give it a few hours.” Yooyeon set her phone back down and turned around to face you again, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Now tell me everything. Like, everything. I need you to explain from start to finish.”
“That might take a while,” you warned. 
She snorted and picked up her nail file. “I think I can make time in my very busy schedule.”
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Your interrogation with Yooyeon didn’t take a few hours, as you expected it would; rather, your discussion cut into the late hours of the night, keeping you and your roommate up until dawn. Jeonghan joined over FaceTime at some point and screeched loud enough for you to worry about noise complaints (Wonwoo made a guest appearance, too), but you also learned that your friend group had seen this coming from the beginning. You weren’t sure how you felt being the only one out of the loop, but Jeonghan made sure to point out that you were just completely oblivious.
You didn’t exactly discuss your next steps, though. Yooyeon mentioned asking Minghao out on a date, but you weren’t sure how to do that without acknowledging The Kiss™ first. You had to bring it up somehow, but you kept putting it off to work on editing. 
Thinking about Xu Minghao proved to be dangerous for your motivation. It had only been a week but you instinctively kept checking your phone to see if he texted you. (Spoiler: he didn’t.) It took all of your willpower, but you forced yourself to push him out of your head and focus on getting the documentary done. 
Editing was torturous. You practically spent all day and night glued to your laptop, whether it was in the dining hall or in your bed. For something that was only supposed to be ten minutes long, there were hours of footage for you to get through, some of which ended up being unusable, much to your frustration. 
Finally, though, after long days of tirelessly working, the finished project was in your hands. 
Of course, Minghao was the very first person you told. You were so giddy that you called him immediately, your heart soaring when he picked up on the second ring. In under an hour, you found yourself running to Café du Soleil to show him the documentary. 
Upon seeing Minghao’s bright face, before you could even get a hi out, he crushed you in his embrace. You breathed in the addicting scent of his cologne—gaiac wood and cedar. It was clear that neither of you wanted to pull away, but you took a step back first.
“Congratulations,” he praised, rubbing small circles on your upper arm with his thumb. “Do I get to watch it now?”
“If you have ten minutes to spare, we can watch it together,” you said, pulling out your laptop once you reached your usual table. “I wanted you to be the first person to see it.”
“I’m off my shift,” he replied, pulling up a chair right next to you, “so I’ve got time to kill.”
You handed him an AirPod to listen along with you. Sound was one of your favorite parts of creating a film—setting the atmosphere, building the tension, playing with senses and emotions—so you really wished you could give Minghao the full experience, but since you were in a public setting, this would have to do. 
The documentary opened with Minghao at his dance studio, sweat glistening on his toned muscles as his body moved to the beat. The demanding choreography coupled with his exhaustion didn’t stop him from showcasing an almost flawless performance. There was a brief exchange with his mentor before the scene cut to an interview with Minghao explaining how his passion for dance started and how he had grown into competing in national-level tournaments. 
You added a compilation of clips from Minghao’s previous performances, as well as accounts from his peers about how hardworking and motivated he was. His mentor gave a particularly heartwarming speech on how driven Minghao was as a dancer and how he put his all into everything he did. The part you were the proudest of had to be getting Jeonghan to give his two cents on being Minghao’s friend, and you were pleasantly surprised that he took it seriously and said something sweet.
“To me, success is about working hard despite my circumstances,” Minghao said. In his interview clip, he took on a more serious tone. “I don’t have to be the best dancer in the world as long as I’m doing what I’m passionate about. At some point, I think I lost myself for a while… but someone special pulled me out of that slump and pushed me to keep going. I can’t thank her enough, honestly.”
You knew it was coming because you put the clips together yourself, but your face still grew hot regardless. Minghao being right next to you wasn’t exactly helping your case or making you feel any less flustered. Perhaps most people watching your documentary wouldn’t realize who he was referring to, but you knew that he was talking about you. 
The film then got into Minghao’s financial struggles with the café, showing segments of his mother talking about Café du Soleil and how much the place meant to her family. You then showed the new part-timers being trained (with extra screen time for Seungcheol, as per Jeonghan’s suggestion—or, well, persuasion), and Seokmin even gushed about how much he looked up to Minghao in his own interview. 
The documentary ended with a few words from Minghao, switching back and forth between the dance studio and the café. The screen then faded to black with the bustling sounds of the café gradually fading out. 
It was only when your screen was dark enough to see your reflection that you realized there were tears in both yours and Minghao’s eyes. You already watched it about five times yourself, but something was different about watching it alongside the person you worked with for over a month to bring your ideas to life.
And, apparently, you two weren’t the only ones tearing up.
Minghao flinched when he turned his head to see the part-timers sitting at the table behind them and peering at the laptop screen. “Fuck, you guys scared me.”
“Sorry,” Seokmin apologized, hastily wiping at a stray tear. “It was just so beautiful.”
Chan gave you a nod of approval. “The only thing it needed was more screen time from me.”
“You literally ran away every time you were on camera,” you said, swiveling around to look at the two baristas. “Were you two just sitting behind us this whole time?” 
“Yes,” Seokmin confirmed. “We appreciated the subtitles.”
Truthfully, you were extremely satisfied with their reactions. Your short film, A Bite of Summer, bringing Minghao to tears was enough to rile you up for days, and now you had two other people who got emotional over a documentary you filmed and produced with your own two hands. 
“You really outdid yourself,” Minghao murmured, and when you turned to him, he was looking at you as if no one else was in the café except you. He reached his hand out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
With a shy smile, you said, “It wouldn’t have come together without you.”
Through your periphery, you noticed Seokmin and Chan exchanging a look.
“Alright, they’re having a moment,” Seokmin announced, standing up and gesturing for Chan to follow him. “Let’s get back to work.”
Minghao, whose ears were a bright shade of red now, tried to awkwardly laugh off the embarrassment. There was a twinkle in his eyes when he looked back at you, and you burned up all over again once you remembered how his soft lips felt against yours. Unfortunately, one of the symptoms of having a crush on someone was that your mind often went blank and filled itself up with all things Xu Minghao instead, so you couldn’t exactly think straight right now. 
“I’ve finished the application and essay for the scholarship,” he said, “so I guess all there’s left to do is submit.”
“I’m sure no one else had an incredibly talented film major directing and producing their video,” you joked. 
“No, you’re right. If I don’t get the scholarship after this, I might take it personally.”
“Oh, please,” you muttered quietly, “you’re too nice.”
“I’m not that nice, Y/N.” To your surprise, Minghao’s eyes hardened. You had never seen such an expression on his face, and it made your stomach instantly sink to your feet, but he bounced right back to his cheery self soon after. “I’ll walk you home after we submit these?” 
“Y-yeah.”
Minghao pulled his own laptop out of his bag while you copied the link to your video in Dropbox. You pasted the link into an email, but your finger hovered over the send button for far too long. Once it went through, you were officially done with this project; it no longer tied you to Minghao. 
You sucked in a breath and sent him the link.
You could only stare at your Canvas submission page. The link to your documentary was already pasted in; all you had to do was hit submit, but you felt so anxious. Maybe you missed one of the guidelines, or maybe you needed to watch it again, but you knew deep down that you replayed it several times and it was as close to perfection as you wanted it to be. 
“Hao, I’m scared. Let’s submit ours at the same time.”
He chuckled. “You don’t have anything to be scared of, but yeah, let’s do that.”
It took another thirty minutes for Minghao to prepare himself, though. He read over his application and essay again, handing it over to you afterward for a second look at it. When Seungcheol eventually entered the café for his shift, Minghao had him take a look at it, too. 
Finally, you and Minghao were both ready with your submissions. You both had your cursors hovering over the submit button just before he slipped his free hand over yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 
“Ready?” he asked.
With the heat of a thousand suns burning your cheeks, you nodded eagerly. 
You submitted your film.
It felt like a truckload of weight had been lifted off your shoulders, but the feeling of relief didn’t come without the slight unease. You looked over at Minghao, who had just submitted his and was being clapped on the back by Seungcheol, and you felt weird. You felt so incredibly proud of yourself, but another part of you couldn’t accept that it was over now. 
“Hey,” Minghao said softly, grinning when your eyes met his. “We really did it.” 
You sort of melted under his gaze, the corners of your mouth hitching up into a lovesick smile. “Yeah, we did.”
With that, his hand slipped out of yours to tell his mother about finishing the scholarship application, and you felt cold again. 
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Minghao offered to walk you home, but you could hardly hold a proper conversation with him; your head was a mess.
Maybe it was wrong for you to feel this way after your week of radio silence, but something about this felt so final. You were scared that once you reached your apartment, you would go back to the life you had before you reconnected with Minghao. As much as you told yourself that you were just overthinking, there was a nagging fear in the back of your head. Maybe it was from the high of submitting your project, but you felt a rush of adrenaline course through you.
You wanted to hold onto Minghao one more time and tell him how you felt. 
It had been on your mind ever since you had your revelation yesterday, and sitting next to him in the café and pretending like you weren’t mad for him was nearly impossible. As you two trudged down the cobblestone street, your hands balled into the pockets of your coat, you realized that something along the lines of a confession was ready to burst through your lips. Minghao kept droning on about a holiday-exclusive drink that was coming to the café, but you couldn’t even listen to him properly without your brain screaming at you to tell him how you felt. 
It was when he brought the conversation back to your documentary that you found the perfect opportunity to bring up the secret video he filmed. 
“We must’ve filmed hours of content,” he was saying, throwing his head back and groaning at the mere thought. “I can’t believe you watched all of it—wait, did you watch all of it?”
“I did watch everything, Hao,” you said quietly.
“Hm? What was that?”
“I knew that the injeolmi toast was supposed to be heated up,” you blurted out. Minghao froze in his tracks and stared at you, wide-eyed, and normally this would’ve made you shy away immediately, but you wanted to be braver. You stopped walking too, and you raised your head to meet his eyes. “I thought you forgot to warm it up by accident, so I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”
At your sudden admission, Minghao was speechless, even more so when you continued in a breathless ramble, “And I want you to know that the only reason I chose this subject for my documentary was because of you; and I missed you all of last week because all I could think about was how you kissed me; and I really fucking hate summer, Hao, but you made me fall in love with the sun.”
“And… and I like you,” you confessed. “I liked you back in middle school, and I like you again now.”
Minghao’s jaw went slack as he searched your eyes, as if looking for a lie in your words, as if he could hardly believe that what you were telling him was real.
“Are you serious?” he asked quietly, almost scared that you would say no. He walked closer to you. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not!” Your courage threatened to falter, but you kept his gaze even as he reached out to hold your face with gentle hands. “I’ve never been this honest in my life.” 
With a shuddering breath, he said, “You’re telling the truth.”
“Yeah, I—”
“Do you even know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?” Although Minghao spoke in a murmur, your words died on your tongue the moment he started talking, especially after his eyes dropped to your lips.
You could only blink back at him in stunned silence.
“You were my first love, too,” he confessed.
His words struck you right in your chest. The winter bite no longer chilled you to the bone; if anything, a wildfire was ripping through your body. For a split second, you wondered if you were actually on fire, so you remained perfectly, unmovingly still until you realized that Minghao was waiting for you to answer.
You swallowed hard. “I was? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I guess I was scared it would ruin our friendship… but I didn’t do a very good job of salvaging it, anyway.” You could see the regret painted on his face, but then he steeled his nerves. “I don’t care if I don’t win the scholarship, Y/N—I mean, I sort of care—but no matter what happens, I’m happy just being with you.”
Your heart beamed.
Even days ago, the mention of your past with Minghao would’ve been a sore spot for you. Now, however, you didn’t want it to keep weighing you down like an anchor buried deep within the sand. Maybe you were both just stupid kids who didn’t know what to do with their feelings.
But all of that hardly mattered now that your souls found each other again. You weren’t ever someone who was big on the idea of destiny, but if there were stars out there that predetermined fate, they must have been shining for you and Minghao.
This time, you initiated. It was almost effortless how your arms found themselves circling around Minghao’s neck, drawing him closer to you. His eyes looked as if they were still in a dream, but after a few seconds, his gentle hands found your waist. 
“I’m happy as long as I’m with you, too,” you said, your voice only loud enough for him to hear. 
Minghao let out a breathless sort of laugh, almost like he was still in disbelief, and you smiled before pressing your lips to his. Compared to your first kiss, which was charged with lust and intoxication, this one was so loving and calm that you lost yourself in him so easily. He smiled into the kiss, and you couldn’t help yourself either once you felt his lips curve up against yours.
His hand found your chin, pulling away for a brief moment to take a good look at you. Let the high of your reciprocated feelings sink in. Your eyes flitted from Minghao’s lips to his twinkling eyes, your heart doing a series of backflips and spins when you saw his lips curl into a smirk.
“Yeah,” he said in a low voice, “I think I can get used to this.”
And when his lips found yours again, you were sure your souls touched, too. 
(“So, are you gonna tell me if I’m objectively good-looking now?” 
“Let it go, Hao.”)
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EPILOGUE
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Vernon scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know if I was tripping out, but I swear they just had us watch Kim Mingyu doing tricks on a skateboard for ten minutes straight.”
“I think that was an actual film.” Seungcheol looked through the pamphlet of student films that were being screened and read, “Kim Mingyu Does a Kickflip—yeah, that’s the one.”
“Whose bright idea was it to make us take Jun’s edibles?” Jeonghan, who was fitted in a formal suit and tie, complained as he slouched deeper in his seat. His eyes were a few shades too close to red to pass as sober, but he was at least able to function on his own. “This shit has to be laced with something.”
“This is your fault, dude,” Seungkwan replied, exasperated. He didn’t seem as faded as Jeonghan was, but he looked more like he had just woken up. “You told us this would be more fun if we got high!”
“Okay, and who listened to me?” He sat up to catch Seungkwan, Vernon, and Wonwoo’s guilty heads hanging shamefully. “Exactly.”
Yooyeon shot you a withering look. “They're stressing me out.”
It was the night of your film’s showcase. After you passed the class with flying colors, your professor recommended your documentary be screened during the showcase for all the film majors in your year. It was an annual event, but only a certain number of films were selected from the students. In short, this was big for you. You invited your friends, of course, although you were starting to regret it now that you had to put Seungcheol and Junhui in charge of babysitting them. 
“Jeonghan, you really didn’t have to dress up like that,” you said once you noticed the contrast between his formal attire and Seungkwan’s sweater and jeans ensemble. “This isn’t even a formal event.”
Jeonghan leaned over Seungcheol to tell you, “This is important to me, okay?”
“Aw, Jeong—”
“I have to be the hottest one here.”
Alright, then. 
“Jeonghan, remember what we’re actually here for,” Junhui prompted, motioning to the front of the theater. 
You put a hand over your chest, touched. “Jun, you’re too sweet, I—”
“To see Minghao’s gorgeous face on the big screen,” he finished.
You decided you were going to let them finish their sentences from now on. 
Minghao, who was sitting next to you and gripping your hand, raised your hands to press a kiss to each one of your knuckles. He saved his public displays of affection for rare occasions, such as your grand showcase.
You two had been dating for the past five months at this point. It wasn’t much of a surprise to any of your friends, but what did change was that Minghao spent a lot more time with your friend group now. (Sometimes you worried if they liked him more than you, but you weren’t one to vie for attention.) It was also safe to say that you two weren’t exactly out of the honeymoon phase yet. Your heart still fluttered whenever he did anything particularly sweet, and Minghao still went bright red whenever you were feeling a little bolder. 
“I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice tickling your skin. “You said your professor recommended submitting it to a film festival, right?”
“Mhm.” You grinned and used the hand he wasn’t holding to pinch his cheek lightly. “Your face could be seen by thousands.”
He laughed. “It’s really all about you, not—” Minghao paused when his phone buzzed from inside his pocket. You two exchanged a nervous look before he fumbled to pull it out. “I think it’s them.”
A week ago, the announcement of the scholarship recipient was supposed to be sent out. However, there was a complication that led to them postponing the results until today. You and Minghao had been on edge all week, but having to think about the outcome on the same day as your film showcase was nerve-wracking.
“It is them.” Minghao bit his lip when he saw the sender in his notifications. He looked over at you and squeezed your hand tighter. “I’m gonna open it now.”
With suspended breath, you tried to gauge his reaction as he opened the email. (It wasn’t very hard to read Xu Minghao’s expression when he wore his heart on his sleeve.) He took so long that you thought he was reading over each word twice, but then you watched as his expression morphed into one of pure astonishment.
“What is it?” you asked. “What does it say?”
“I…” He swallowed thickly. “I got it.” He turned to you again, mouth twitching into a grin. “I actually got it!”
Your life had been going so smoothly recently that the scholarship results had been plaguing your thoughts for the past few weeks. You didn’t have to worry about your project anymore, so saving the café and getting Minghao his chance to compete had been weighing heavily on your mind. 
Now, though, upon hearing those words and seeing his eyes light up, you felt like you were glowing yourself. They selected Minghao, and they watched your film. Your work was going to save his mom’s café. It was going to let him keep chasing his dreams. 
You let out a yelp so loud that dozens of heads turned in your direction, but you didn’t mind any of them as soon as you reached over your armrest to tackle Minghao into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and pressed a kiss to your temple. 
“I knew they’d pick you,” you told him. “There’s no one else who deserves it more.”
“It’s seriously all because of you,” he said. When you pulled apart, Minghao looked absolutely winded from being so overjoyed. “I have to tell my mom as soon as we get home. She’s gonna be so happy that we get to keep the café running.”
Jeonghan, who was brazenly eavesdropping, patted Seungcheol firmly on the chest. “Hear that? You just got saved from unemployment.” He reached over Seungcheol (again) to dap up Minghao. 
You felt someone tap your shoulder from behind, and you craned your neck around to see your professor gesturing for you to go up on stage. That was your cue to introduce your film, and you gulped down the bundle of nerves that rose up your throat. 
Yooyeon squeezed your shoulder as you were getting up. Shakily, you straightened up, smiling weakly when your friends started cheering obnoxiously loud for you. Minghao caught your wrist before you walked to the front and gave you a reassuring squeeze that managed to calm your jittery hands.
You recognized a lot of your friends from your classes, so it wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, but you were hopeful that the unfamiliar faces would be cheering for you by the time they saw your documentary. 
“We know her!” Jeonghan and Seungkwan were screaming from the top, pointing you out to every stranger in their vicinity. “That’s our friend!”
At the right wing of the stage, you were handed a mic and instructed to walk out to the center. You had never been in front of a crowd this huge, but seeing your friends in the seats melted away whatever fears were holding you back. 
“Thank you everyone for coming out today,” you spoke into the mic, smiling when it resounded throughout the grand auditorium. “My name’s Y/N, and I’m so excited to share my documentary: The Xu Minghao Dilemma.”
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TAG LIST ▸ if you made it all the way here, thank you so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed xu minghao's dilemma 💗 first and foremost, this was written for @junyangis so shoutout my film major inspo. i tried to emulate the film student experience to the best of my ability so i hope it delivers 🙏 also you might notice the banner has jeonghan as the writer which sort of sounds misleading but it's because he was the one orchestrating everything between mc and minghao, so i thought it was fitting :') first fic of 2025, yay!! i hope to share more of my works with you this year & sending my love to everyone reading this right now ♡ thank you to everyone who asked to be part of the tag list as well !! 🫂
TAG LIST ▸ @jenoentry @wonudazed @aaniag @ily-cuz-i @fancypeacepersona @tokitosun @jeonnyread @reiofsuns2001 @markleeloveletter @dawn-iscozy @fennecnco @kookiedesi @nijisanjigenshin @xylatox @cookiearmy @nightshadeblooming @sillyuin @outrologist @flowerrpwrr @melonacco @sknyuz @enhasrii @skzdesi
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retrosabers · 5 months ago
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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
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FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.
contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance
i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.
also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)
!! divider by @strangergraphics !!
FICMAS MASTERLIST
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your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.
who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.
a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.
at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.
excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.
as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.
if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.
what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.
a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.
your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.
bucky barnes.
quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.
to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.
what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.
it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.
the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.
flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.
you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.
when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.
the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.
you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.
please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.
in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.
it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.
you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.
surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.
bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.
“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.
you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.
it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.
here goes nothing.
“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.
a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.
you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.
“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.
for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.
“don’t recall asking for that either.”
you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”
“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.
despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.
“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.
“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”
bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.
“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.
you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.
“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”
he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”
you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””
why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.
that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.
just your luck, he’s right on schedule.
“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”
a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.
it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.
before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.
“merry christmas buck.”
your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.
and yet. he enjoyed the burn.
as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.
“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.
you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.
while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.
he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.
that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.
a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.
his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.
i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.
merry christmas ♡
bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.
from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.
you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.
but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.
later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.
bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.
tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.
and to ask you about your record collection.
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thanks for reading! <3
tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals
!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!
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kabr0ztrousers · 3 months ago
Note
hey could you write about a pussy portal? with whatever monster you feel like! also could it be semi-public (public but hidden)? also knotting is appreciated!
Kabr0z Writes episode 53: Hornyposting
Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!
CWs: portal sex; knotting; public sex; cum in vagina; unknown male; freeuse; recieving cunnilingus; age gap; implied impregnation; interspecies; portal fucking
A/N: I do love writing portal fucking, though I'm not sure I understood the prompt properly on this one, so enjoy reading about fem!reader being fucked by a knotted cock while falling to avoid notice
Also, any requests etc, please drop an ask!
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When you bought something called a "telepresence glory hole" you weren't honestly expecting what you got. It arrived OK, and came with a phonebook of a disclaimer which you didn't bother reading. What was really interesting was, it actually seemed legit. In the box you got a pair of panties, and a handheld device that looked kinda like a fleshlight. Both had strange disks integrated to them made of some kind of metal. You spent the next hour going through the manual, registering them to a phone app and generating a friend code.
Testing went without a hitch, you plugged the friend code into the app, and the link established with a faint buzz. Next came the fun part. You broke the link, before taking to the internet. Would you believe there's a whole community centred around these things?
You got changed, a nice sundress to go out in, those panties underneath. A quick picture later and you posted your selfie and your code, out in the aether. You set off, walking to the cafe, locking the app as you left. For the next 4 hours, you're open for business.
The bell on the café door jingled as it opened. The local corporate chain, you weren't going to risk getting chucked out of a café you actually liked, but even if the coffee sucked here the wifi's free and there's plenty of people around. You joined the back of the line and inched towards the counter.
You felt a draft down below. A breath across your cunt. There were still a few people ahead of you. A shiver ran up your spine, it's starting already.
A wide tongue grazed your outer lips, starting slowly. You tensed your cunt a little to egg whoever this was on. You'd said in your post that you were up for any guy to give you a fuck, though maybe you hadn't mentioned what you'd be up to in the meantime... But that's very much what things like this were designed for, nobody's wearing these for a quiet night in.
The tongue came again, holding back a little less this time, coating the outside of your pussy in drool as it licked up and down your-
"Hi! What can I get for you?" The rictus grin of the cashier snapped you out of your thoughts
"C-cappuchino please. Large" you stammered out, speaking fast to try and avoid your voice giving you away.
You paid noiselessly, tapping your card on the machine which beeped compliantly before stepping over to the other counter with your receipt and the order number printed on it.
The tongue got more aggressive. Your knee buckled as it circled your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut a moment as it threatened to slip into your eager hole. You leaned on a low wall behind you, trying to look nonchalant as you checked your forum post.
WolfDaddy1969 had replied to you "Don't need to tell me twice" was this the person so diligently licking you out? He didn't have a profile picture. God, but whoever this was, they're good with their tongue. You rolled your head backwards in ecstasy, trying to disguise it by rubbing the back of your neck, but the quiet whimper you gave drew the eye of the suited woman beside you as she stepped forward to grab a tray of paper cups.
"Order 42, large cappuccino, regular milk"
Your legs threatened to betray you as you as you stepped up and took the almost litre cup of coffee with your order number stuck to it. You turned to try and find a table, almost stumbling as you did. The movement was shifting your pussy lips, moving them subtly against one another as the tongue pushed between them. You fell into a seat, legs spread. You could feel moisture leaking around the edges of the portal, the combination of drool and your pussy juice starting to slick your crotch.
The tongue had barely let up before you felt something else pressing against you. Hard and drooling, there was no mistaking it. You'd been with a lupine before, you knew how they start squirting precum almost as soon as you get them hard. You imagined it, if this wolf really was born in the late 60's then he'd have been in his thirties before you were even conceived... It turned you on knowing this cock was old enough to be your father.
He pushed in, or maybe down? Your pussy making up the business end of the toy he was fucking himself with. He slid in easily. Your toes curled in your shoes as you gripped the table in front of you, clenching your teeth as he started fucking you properly. He angled his toy, only slightly but enough that you could feel him thrust up into your g-spot before continuing into you. Despite your efforts, you could feel yourself making small, choked sounds with every thrust. His thumb hit your clit. You groaned as your legs started to shake, failing to hide your release as people started to take notice. A mix of worried and disgusted looks fixed upon you, some people clearly having an idea of what was happening.
The cock filled you up. The clenching of your aching cunt getting to the cock inside you. You felt the knit start to inflate. It was pulsing so deliciously, your mouth sagged open in a silent wail of delight and release.
The cashier from before was next to you "I think you should leave" his smile was gone, he just looked tired.
You nodded and got up, The movement of your legs rolling the swollen knot inside you, forcing you to walle away, your drink forgotten as you tried to ignore the mix of arousal and cum dripping down your legs.
The outside air was cold on your skin, the wetness covering your thighs stinging as it cooled in the brisk February air. At least you're within walking distance of home, though it's anyone's guess if you'd get back before the wolf was done with you.
He was still using you to jerk off, the knot thrusting up and down as you tried to walk, dictating the rhythm of your steps. You weren't hiding your noises any more either, there were fewer people on the suburban streets, but every one of them knew you had something going on down there. Some hurried on, some threw dirty looks, one or two gave wolf whistles and catcalls, only making you wetter.
You were halfway home when the knot started twisting in you, this way and that. You grabbed a lamppost as you moaned out, trying desperately to keep from falling as your knees gave way and your cunt gave another squirt of girlcum. He turned his cock again and again, feeling how you clenched and milked his knot, wringing every morsel of cum from him, before withdrawing with a pop.
That tongue came back. You slid down the pole, landing on your knees as the wolf licked deep inside you, tasting his cum as it mixed with your essence. You could swear it hit your cervix as you groaned and whined for all to see.
The tongue withdrew. The portal shut off and you were alone again, leaking onto the floor underneath you. You staggered to your feet, still clinging to the street furniture as you got your breath back. Legs still shaking, pussy still twitching, you got home.
The portal buzzed to life again. You checked your post. You'd been pinned to the front page, it looks like WolfDaddy left you a glowing review "10/10, tight pussy, would impregnate again"
You were going to have a lot of fun with this
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There's a little narrative dissonance between where it started and where it went here, but I thought it shook out pretty well, and you're not here for tight editing.
As always, any requests, ideas, thoughts, questions or fanmail is appreciated! My DMs and asks remain open for use!
Also, see below for a surprise poll!
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daylighted · 4 months ago
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SOMETHING IN YOUR MOUTH ━ DARYL DIXON x BOLD!READER
18+ CONTENT! daryl told you to be quiet how many times? and yet still, it is so much more fun to push his limits than follow his grunted pleas.
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"mmph," you can't even get a proper word out through the fingers shoved between your parted lips, the taste of daryl's salty skin coating the inside of your mouth.
you don't know why he's so insistence of your silence; at this time of night, the prison was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. it was more that obvious what you were getting up to by the sounds of the squeaking bedsprings and the lewd skin slapping noise seeming to echo off of the stone walls.
but daryl was quiet when he wasn't in your orbit. he stuck to his favorite shadows and observed, so used to being on watch that he'd made a home in the silent dark. getting into this thing with you was, probably, the worst and best thing he could have done for himself.
how else could someone express frustration with the loudest person in the group other than to fuck it out of them?
it was inevitable, you thought. the bigger, isolated cells were reserved for the people with dependents, leaving the rest of the group to pair off and suck it up in the other cells, all in the same block as to not lose track and keep a head count. inevitable that you'd end up buried in the sharp springs of the bottom bunk's mattress, because daryl sure as shit wasn't getting on the top bunk to screw you into silence.
"i told you," daryl seethes in your ear, always so quiet even when he yelled, like he was more than aware that he didn't need volume to demand control of something, "to shut the hell up."
you liked getting him angry, though. every time, it got you closer and closer to this: the breaking point. when he'd climbed on the wiry bunks' frame and grabbed you by the face and slammed his mouth against yours. he was strong enough to haul you down from there for easier access.
now, you were both half dressed, and he was ranting and raving in your ear about your silence, ironically making him the loudest in the room.
you open your mouth around his thick fingers to try and tell him as such, but he pushes them down harder on your tongue. "never fuckin' listen," his words are more rasp and gravel than anything, hardly intelligible around the creaking, the deep thrusts enough to make you see stars. you should piss him off more often. you were going to piss him off more often.
his other hand goes to your thigh, lifting it higher up on his waist, giving him all that more access to getting as close to you as he possibly could. your head tips back into the thin, pathetic excuse of a pillow, no more words trying to escape your mouth but pleas of your own. shut the hell up, he pleaded you before. please make me louder, you pleaded him now, without the proper ability to say such.
daryl's thumb digs into the bottom of your jaw, cupping your open mouth in a claw. your saliva is all over his fingers, pooled in the corners of your lips, and yet the only sounds you can get out are the growled, unintelligible ones in your throat.
your hand reaches up to fist at his raggedy shirt, tugging him down closer. there's something wild in his eyes, like this little sense of normalcy, no matter how raunchy, had him gone. being in a world so ruined made the human things seem that much more exotic.
his thrusts are more erratic, and each noise around his fingers is becoming more desperate, more pleading. tears sprig in the corners of your eyes, clenching them tightly to focus on something, anything, that isn't the fact that you want to scream and cry out and can't even hardly utter a proper moan to show for how he breaks you apart and shatters you.
daryl lets go of your mouth suddenly, that hand going to the top bunk's metal frame as he uses his grip on your thigh to sink one last time into you, a guttural groan heaving from is chest. in the end, it's always the man that breaks his own rules.
his face is flushed when he lifts his forehead from the top bunk's frame, leaning beneath the boxspring above him to get a proper look at you. it's always hard to tell when he's blushing or when he's worked up. you think maybe this time it's both.
"you," you manage to choke out through your broken voice, mouth dry and thick from having it pried open for so long, "are a filthy little hypocrite."
daryl's lip quirks in the corner, more of a muscle twitch than a smile. "y'want me t'tell you to shut the hell up again already?"
he doesn't smile properly, but you do. a wide, toothy grin that only turns the pink on his cheeks more vibrant. "if you'll let me scream this time." daryl goes to argue, but you dig your heel into the muscle of his thigh. "only fair. you probably already woke up every damn walker at the gate."
a man of little words is more than likely also a man of many actions. he grabs your other ankle and pulls you closer to the edge of the mattress, and when the bed starts to creak again and you melt into a fit of moans hardly muffled by the scraps of fabric they called blankets here, he doesn't bother trying to shut you up this time.
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notes. u let me write when i'm tired and i start acting like a proper slut PLSSS. anyways my venture into another fandom i hope the twd ppl don't bite.
tags. idk if i have any twd girlies in my audience rn but if u are one & want tagged pls lmk. for now special mentions to @deansbeer & @starzify & @frosttbitessam who ik at least have seen it hehehehe
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writella · 9 months ago
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Fuckin’ Favorite
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Synopsis: Whose the fairest of them all? It’s you. It’s always been you. Negan’s prepared to let each one of his wives know just that tonight.
— or: Oh Lord, does Negan love his fuckin’ favorite wife!
Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, smut— fingering, thigh riding, and penetration without protection; reader at the Sanctuary, “wife”!reader, guilty!reader because when am I not feeling guilty for wanting Negan, Negan being rude in one small part, I’m pretty sure I changed the layout of the wives quarters from the show, and a fuck load of ‘fucks’ from Negan. Mostly proofread. wc: 2.2k.
A/N: I mostly get right to it, so buckle up! And if you like this one, check out this daydream I wrote because I think it’s really cute.
—with love from writella ♡
He comes in without a knock.
The door, though brittle as it is, slams shut. The metal and leather of his jacket clink and slap as his back pounds against it. He has no care that he could break the door, or for the noise and late hour of his arrival.
This was his house. His rules.
“Good evenin’, sweetheart.”
If it wasn’t for that slight twang in his accent, or that wiley look that punctuates the end of his sentences, making everything he says just as comical as unsettling, it would have sounded more like a, Hello, Clarice— nonetheless, you still hold your breath.
“It’s half past ten,” you decide to say, looking down, making sure you don’t sound too sarcastic or displeased with his appearance. It’s just that you hated it when he came to your room, especially when all the other girls were right outside in the common room or in their bedrooms that neighbored yours. You much rather go to his room if you have to. It’s quiet and separate from the rest of the habitants of the Sanctuary. He could be as loud as he wanted— even though he always was anyway— but that would mostly be for you— so you didn’t have to feel so ashamed.
“Well would you prefer a Hey, sexy. Strip down. Ass up. then? Just get right to it?” You say nothing. “Cause I could.” Negan tilts his head sideways with a slight grin, his forehead protruding forward as he tries to find your eyes. All he sees is cheeks starting to flush, an embarrassed shake of your head, and eyes that stay stuck on your black ballerina flats.
You were sitting on the rear of your bed, only looking up sometimes. Recently, you were trying to get better with eye contact. You wanted to show that you’re not afraid of him anymore. It was supposed to be a silent statement that he wasn’t fooling you and that you weren’t softening up to him. That you know what this is, who he is; you’re cognizant of what he does to you, to the others girls, to people outside these walls. But, this didn’t work. No matter if you were looking down or up, you could never seem to get rid of that deer in the headlights look— The Roadkill Stare or The Corpse’s Bride as Negan called it— wide and bewildered, like he was going to run you over. Sometimes it made him feel sad. That there were moments where he could see you trying to resist your natural instinct to flinch when he comes near. But other times, it made him feel powerful. Not the fact that he scared you, but that he could see what was underneath it— that you were scared of yourself. He knows you like him. He knows from the way your face slightly twists as you suppress your snickers and smiles at his jokes when you two are alone, or when he makes fun of Simon for yet another one of his bad attempts at acting like him; when you think you’re doing well at maintaining that timid Tim Burton eyed version of a poker face. He knows you’re not completely scared of him, at least not anymore. Little by little, he’s learning to clock the nuances of your expressions: he sees how your eyes trail his body when he undresses in front of you, or the way you follow him as he walks to talk to this person or that, how you’re acutely aware of when and how he moves, your eyes flickering towards his hands before he gestures with them. It’s like you know too. As if you see his underneath the way he can for you. You’re becoming as familiar as he is.
He’s aware.
You can’t fool him any longer.
“Get up for me.” It’s a soft command said in his darkened voice. On instinct, you oblige. This is how it is. He walks closer, his fingertips lightly brushing slowly down your shoulder until he reaches your waist. He grabs you quick and close on both sides, pulling you straight against him. You gasp, arms swinging back slightly, back arching against him as he presses you on his lower abdomen and groin. You can feel his breath, and the heat of his intense gaze. “Kiss me.”
Your mouth is agape. Your breath shudders. You’re frozen.
You do nothing.
There you go again, his little fawn bride. If eyes could be any more rounder, symmetrical spheres, they’re yours. He could laugh but he doesn’t. He only repeats himself. Quietly, sternly, “You kiss me first this time.”
You had never done that before.
“Do I gotta say it a third?”
You shake your head. No.
Hesitantly, you reach up, touching his face with ghostlike fingertips, feeling the bristles of his beard as you bring yourself closer. Your lips are light and tentative as you finally press yours on his. For him, it was like being kissed by an angel. It makes him soften up for a moment, tilt your head up higher for you to give you more leverage. He kisses you just as sweetly. His thumb strokes your jaw.
After a few more kisses, you pull back to look at him. You hold his shoulders and he holds you by your waist. Your faces are so close, his eyes could almost be as wide as yours, and for a moment, it all feels so soft and dream-like. But quickly, the iridescence fades: before you realize it, he puts his tongue in your mouth forcefully, making your head roll back. The unexpected shift makes you gasp into his mouth.
He turns you around, slams you again your door. Your tall bureau near it bangs against the wall with you. Some of your folded clothes you had yet to put away and jewelry falls off the top as your head bounces.
Negan’s left hand runs down your body, sliding two fingers down under your dress and over your panties, pressing in at your slit. He finds wetness forming. His fingers make it more pronounced as he creates a wet spot.
“Tell me you want me,” he says as he starts to rub your clit.
You take a shaky breath inwards, covering a small moan.
Negan’s fingers slide inside your underwear and down right into your hole. He pumps slowly three times, never losing eye contact with you and then he takes them out. “Cause I want you,” and he proves it by putting the two fingers in his mouth and licking them clean, wiping his lips afterwards with his tongue. “Tell me you do too.”
Your breath remains heavy. Finally, you whisper, “I want you.”
He spins you around again. His back against the door once more, producing another slam you know all the girls will hear. He raises one of his legs and slots his thigh in between yours. His hands rest on your hips, rocking you against him. It feels good. Your thin cotton panties and bare thighs brushing and rocking against his that are rough and denim clad. You try to resist the urge to make any sounds because of how much you like it. “Tell me you need me.”
This makes you whine. “Can we—” you start to ask— and you can’t believe you’re even going to say it— “Can we just go to your room? Please?” Oh God, what would everyone at Alexandria think? They’d be so disappointed. They’d hate you. The wives have never been mean, they accepted you, understood your condition more than anyone else, but where you only had very educated guesses of what everyone at home would think of you, you had a stone hard fact of how the other girls were starting to see you. Their eyes could not lie as much as yours: you felt women’s growing glares of silent resentment whenever you were seen with Negan. He was more forgiving with you; never got too nasty about your habit of not speaking when you’re spoke to; he was gentle with his touch when others were watching; never made you hang out with any of the other men if you didn’t want to; and he talked to you, communicated more. They saw it. They knew it. They figured you were more in the know about things outside the Sancutary than they were. You tried to use it to keep them informed as well, as a way to preserve what little favor you had left, but now look at you, ruining it all as they’re forced to listen. Not only submitting to whatever he may do to you, but asking to change the location before it begins.
“No. You get me here or not at all.” You knew he wasn’t lying. His voice was stern. He looked you in the eye even if you weren’t looking back, you felt it. It told you that he wouldn’t budge, not even a little. “And you can sleep in those panties if that’s the case.”
You stay silent for a moment. Eyes peering into his wishing just your look could say it all. “Negan…” you whisper.
“Yes, baby?”
“I- I need you.”
In an instant, Negan pushes you off of him. His hands go to the ends of your dress and pull it off of you with your arms and hair flying.
“Take it off,” he demands after he throws you down on your bed.
You feet kick off your flats and you raise your hips to discard your panties, never losing sight of him as he rips off his jacket, unbuckles his belt, and crosses his arms to get rid of his shirt. You loved the look of his years-faded tattoos against his tan skin and the curves of his light muscles when he raises his arms.
You’re in a trance, not seeing that he sees that you’re doing it again. Bambi eyes trailing him down. It’s every time you guys do this. And fuck, you must think he’s sexy. He loves it. Because he knows he’s fucking sexy. He knows that pretty girls like you will always come around. You just can’t help it. His grin is as wide as your eyes because of it.
Negan is hard and he wastes no time. He’s been thinking about claiming you all day. He hooks his hands under your knees as you lay with your back flat on the bed.
Negan lines himself against you and immediately starts to piston himself inside of you, never completely pulling out. Your breast shake as his thrusts keep pushing you back. You felt like you were vibrating.
He is obsessed with this angle. Getting to see your face scrunch and twist and contort. Getting to hear your heavy pants and sighs. Getting to feel the squeeze of your pussy and he continues to push inside you fast, fast, fast.
And he’s mesmerized by your breast. The continuous bounce of your perky tits that were now his. He wants his mouth on them, he wants his dick between them, but for now he’ll just watch them jump and spring— it’s just as sexy to him. He might even have to cancel all of tomorrow's plans just to watch them fly all day like this.
Your head turns to your left side and you catch yourself in your full length mirror— the view is from head to the top of your waist. You see your left tit bouncing along with your head and stomach as Negan keeps pushing into it with no relent. Instantly you moan at the sight. Your hand swings to your face right after, your eyes closing shut.
Negan rips your fingers from off your mouth. “No,” he warns. “I know you like it—” you whine when he says that— “Stop hiding it. Look at yourself or I’ll stop.”
You don’t open them.
He stops.
“You gonna fuckin’ listen?”
Slowly, you ynclose your scrunched eyes, seeing yourself and your parted lips again.
“Good girl.” And then, Negan starts splitting you open again, making you shake. The sudden movement makes you moan, “oh- uh.”
“Tell me you want it.”
You don’t resist anymore. You continue to look at yourself in the mirror as you say, “I want it.”
“Tell me you need it.”
Your head turns to watch where your body connects with his. “Ohmygod, I need it.”
He growls as he follows your gaze, voice strained and rough like he’s going to punch something as he repeats, thrusting faster, “Tell me you fucking need it.”
“I need it.” Then you moan, “Negan, please!” You chant, “Please. Please, Negan, I need it!”
“You need it, baby?” He jeers. “You want me to give it to ya?”
You nod as you whine, tears almost coming out. Your breasts still bounce for him and you love it as much as you hate it. “Yes, Negan.”
“You know what I came in here to do, baby?”
You’re still whining, you're practically incoherent. His little fuck doll. All you can say is his name.
“Look at me when I tell you.”
Your eyes go up to his. Watching him as he continues to pump into you. You see how his body vigorously shakes in unison with yours. His skin and his pushing up and down, in and out, as he makes your body jump.
“I came in here,” he starts, losing his breath and trying not to falter from his thrusts as his face places itself above yours, “To show every single bitch in the goddamn house that you’re mine. And that you’re the only fuckin’ one.” You respond with only sex-filled sounds. You’re close to exploding. Your body still jumps along with his. Your bouncing breasts rubbing against his pex as he commands, “Tell me you want me to do it. You want me to make you come.”
As always, though this time it was because you were on the verge of losing all control, you give no answer.
His words bite at your parted lips as he repeats, “Tell me!” And he slaps the side of your ass.
The pang forces you to speak: “I want you to do it Negan please!”
Negan rises. His mouth circles as he moans. He holds your hips now, raising them off the bed as he pumps into your harder. “Say it again.”
“Do it, Negan, please. Please make me come.” With each word ending in moaning pants as you repeats, “Please- Please- Please- Please- Please-”
“Oh fuck,” his gutteral voice rasps and roars for all to hear. Your absolute submission brings him closer to the edge. He smiles widely knowing he’s about to come so hard in that tiny pussy of yours. “OH FUCKIN LORD,” he laughs, knowing he has the whole floor’s attention, not caring a single bit how any of it sounds. “GOD DAMN. THAT’S FUCKIN RIGHT. IM GONNA MAKE MY PRETTY LITTLE FUCKIN WIFE FUCKIN COME BECAUSE SHE’S- MY FUCKIN’- FAVORITE.”
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hannyoontify · 6 months ago
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seventeen '96 line as things that have made my heart flutter
warnings | smidge of jealousy during hoshi's
notes | source? erm possibly my own... experiences from the past..... ;;; not proofread
p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships
95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line
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jun - a kiss on the cheek while taking pictures in a photo booth
“ooh this frame looks cute! do you wanna do this one?”
jun smiled at your energy. “whatever you want, bubs. i’m following your lead.”
he stood back as he watched you take the lead, clicking through the different settings of the photobooth. when you finished, you rushed over to his side with an excited smile. “okay, quick! there’s a timer and we have to finish within that time!”
the big, red number began to count down and the two of you stood against the wall. outstretching two fingers, you made posed for the camera and jun followed your example. the machine made a loud click sound as it took the first photo.
“again! okay, what pose should we do next? ooo! jun, grab the kitty hairbands!”
the next few snapshots were taken of you and jun posing with the kitty hairbands provided by the store. jun made a loud meow for one, making you burst into laughter, which the camera caught perfectly in time. jun, with his handsome face scrunched up mid-meow and you, your mouth wide open and your eyes closed as you laughed.
“eww! i hate that photo, we’re not choosing that one.” you said mid-giggle. 
“why? it’s cute. i think it explains our dynamic perfectly,” jun grabbed you by the shoulder and tugged you closer to him. “okay, last one. cheese!”
the screen began counting down again and you leaned closer into jun’s shoulder, getting ready to pose for the camera again. as the number got closer to zero, jun glanced down at you, frozen still, waiting for the camera to take the last photo.
“4… 3… 2…. ” the robotic voice from the machine counted down.
taking a deep breath, jun closed his eyes shut and dipped his head. it was a quick kiss, so soft and gentle, like cloud resting on the peak of a mountain. brief moment of contact before drifting away. 
jun’s lips felt soft against yours and you let a soft gasp. your jaw dropped in surprise as the camera flashed with another loud click. 
your knees wobbled, as if gravity had suddenly shifted around you. there was tightening feeling in your chest as you looked over at jun. he looked at you with a gentle, apologetic smile.
“sorry, i should’ve asked.”
the world seemed to still, each beat of your heart pounding loudly against your chest. the way jun was looking at you sent a cascade of warmth spiraling through your entire body and you smiled.
“it’s okay… i liked it.”
hoshi - grabbing you by the belt loops of your jeans
you could feel someone’s heavy gaze set on you and you already knew whose set of eyes the stare belonged to. listening to your other friend talk about his chemistry lab with a really hot dude, you glanced over your shoulder and made instantly eye contact with soonyoung.
he was on the other side of the gym, his elbows resting on his legs as he watched you with an unreadable look in his eyes. deciding to be obnoxious, you stuck your tongue out at him and his lips tugged up into a tight grin, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes like they usually did.
“sorry, but i think one of the teachers are looking for me.” you dismissed yourself from the small circle of friends. your friends waved you good bye and turned back to resume their gossiping session where they were trying to decide whether the hot guy from one of their chemistry labs swung both ways.
you jogged across the gym, dodging equipment and other students and staff who were getting ready for the annual homecoming rally. you and soonyoung both applied to asb your sophomore year of high school, desperate for some kind of extracurricular to pad your college application with. although being in your school’s asb came with a lot of responsibilities, it was fun when you did it with your friend(? situationship?).
soonyoung was sitting at the bottom bench of the bleachers, his face resting on his palm and his eyes watching you intently as you approached him. 
“what’s got you pouting? did seungcheol yell at you again?” you stood in front of him with your hands resting on your hips and a small smile. “come on, cheer up soonie. i promised to buy you frozen yogurt after this.”
he pushed himself up to his feet, now towering over you with his height. “you promised to do the banners with me.”
soonyoung’s bottom lip jutted out in an almost adorable way and you physically stopped yourself from cooing at him. 
“is that why you’re upset? because i ditched you and the banners?” you smiled and soonyoung nodded.
“you left me to hang out with those…” his words faltered and you glanced back to see the group of friends still gossiping. the discussion seemed to be getting pretty heated with the way you could hear seungkwan’s voice steadily growing in volume.
“them? we were just–“ you turned back to face soonyoung when you felt a gentle tug on your waist. stumbling forward, you now stood barely inches away from him. “soonyoung, what-”
he tried his best to avoid eye contact, his eyes darting around the gym as he nervously licked his lips.
“wndedootbewsjfhme...” soonyoung mumbled. his grip tightened on your belt loop, pulling you closer to him, your body now grazing his. 
“h-huh? wh… i can’t hear…” it was your turn to avoid eye contact now. your heart hammered against your chest, fast and hot in anticipation.
“i said… i wanted you to be with me…” soonyoung muttered. his ears were flushed, a bright shade of red that brought a small smile to your face.
“w-what, are you jealous or something?” you teased as an attempt to cover up how loud your heart was beating in your ears. 
soonyoung grinned. his shy and timid demeanor from seconds ago was nowhere to be found. in it’s place was the soonyoung you knew, complete with the overly confident and cocky smile accompanied by the mischievous glint in his eyes. 
“what if i am? is that going to change anything?” 
wonwoo - leaving his game to give you attention
“wonwooooooo” you cried out. wonwoo let out a small grunt in response. “i’m boreddddd”
you perched yourself on the edge of his desk, watching his focused eyes stare at the monitor in front of him. his fingers were moving at a lightning fast speed, but his facial expressions demeanor seemed to scream calm and relaxed.
“you’re bored?” wonwoo echoed your last words and you nodded. although his eyes never left his screen, you could tell he was paying you the utmost attention he could currently afford. “hmmm… how can we fix that?”
leaning your head on wonwoo’s shoulder, you pouted. “i want you to play with me, not your games.”
wonwoo laughed. the corners of his eyes had a slight wrinkle and you felt something tugging at your heartstrings. “is that right?”
with a few clicks of his mouse, his monitor turned dark and his pc chirped, alerting him that the system had been shut down.
“wha-? you were in the middle of a game-“
wonwoo took off his headset and ruffled his hair with a hand, trying to fix it after hours of wearing a headset. “doesn’t matter. you’re more important.”
you felt your breath catch in your throat as you felt heat creeping up your skin, reaching your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 
woozi - initiating pda in public first
it was loud. the football stadium was packed with students decked out in school spirit, and you could barely feel your fingertips from the biting cold.
“jihoon…” your fingers tugged on his sleeve and jihoon spared you a glance before leaning closer to you to hear you better in the loud crowd. “i’m cold...”
he looked at you and smiled. “told you to bring a jacket.”
“this is a jacket!” you retorted. 
“this?” jihoon laughed. you could see a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he looked over your outfit. “honey, this jacket is basically a cropped top on steroids. you seriously expected this to keep you warm in this weather?”
you felt the tips of your ears burning at the new nickname he called you, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. that wasn’t the response you expected–or wanted.
“you’re being mean!” you whined, but a small laugh escaped your lips at the way jihoon faux-frowned at you. you lightly shoved his shoulder. “i’m being serious, it’s not about the jacket.”
jihoon raised a brow. “what could this possibly be about then?”
“it’s about…” you trailed off and shook your head. “never mind. it’s nothing.” 
you crossed your arms over your chest and turned back to face forward. a wave of embarrassment washed over you, serving as a wake up call. sure, you and jihoon had some thing going on, but you felt silly for expecting him to hold your hand or hug you in front of almost the entire school.
jihoon was a private person. that was a fact that you knew that better than anyone else. he wasn’t one to initiate physical contact when it was just the two of you, let alone in the middle of a busy high school football game.
“[name],” jihoon spoke quietly in your ear, his warm hand grazing against yours. “[name], look at me.”
when you didn’t respond, he let out a small puff, followed by a small laugh. 
“c’mere” jihoon muttered. he wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you closer to his side. “they say sharing body heat helps.”
 you stared blankly at him. the colony of butterflies in your stomach seemed to migrate to your heart and you swallowed thickly.
“wh- what if someone sees?”
jihoon let out a half snort. “let them see. i don't care”
note: jihoon had extremely red ears during this entire exchange, and no, it wasn’t because of the cold. trust me. 
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reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^
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james-bucky-barnackle · 11 months ago
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I mean?
Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N
Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.
A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.
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It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.
You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.
The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.
“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.
“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.
“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.
The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”
“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.
“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.
“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”
“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”
“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”
“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”
“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.
“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”
You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”
Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”
The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”
You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”
Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”
The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.
“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,
“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.
“Oh, you have?”
You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”
“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”
“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”
He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”
“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.
“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”
You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.
You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.
“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”
“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”
Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”
You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”
The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”
Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.
You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?
The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”
You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.
Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”
You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”
Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”
You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you. 
The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”
Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”
You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.” 
Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.
The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”
You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”
Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”
The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”
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As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.
“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.
You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”
He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”
“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”
Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”
You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”
He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”
“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.
Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”
You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”
He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”
You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”
“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“Eight it is."
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planetaryupscaled · 1 year ago
Text
Honeymoon 1: Guilty Pleasure
Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi
Tags: 8k, anal, cheating, creampie, oral, squirt
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
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It’s hard to wake up in a more relaxing way than I just had. Lying on a soft comfortable bed in the bedroom of the expensive suite I was renting. The sounds of ocean waves crashing on the beach coming in through the open balcony door. Though the part best of all was the feeling of tight feminine lips wrapped around my dick as my cock was being blown.
I let out a moan as I opened my eyes, and I used pillows to sit up and look down my body. I was still naked from last night’s activities, and the sheets had been thrown aside. Down around my waist was also a naked body of a thin fit woman. I could see her cute nude ass, and she had legs crossed and kicked up in the air. She moved her red hair out of her face, it revealed her brown eyes, looking up at me. Though she continued to suck me, her stretched lips did seem to smile a bit when she noticed I was awake. She kept going for a few more seconds before releasing my pole from her mouth.
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“Morning husband,” she said with a big smile, obviously enjoying getting to say those words. We had gotten married only two days ago, and now we were enjoying our honeymoon at an exclusive private resort. The hotel had many amenities, but the best of which was that its security kept photographers away and guests knew better than to take photos of others as they enjoyed their own privacy.
“I could really enjoy waking up every day like this.”
“I bet you could,” she said as her hands took over working my rod from her mouth. “I had to wake you up, and this seemed like the most fun way. You need to hurry up and finish though, we only have 30 minutes until they stop serving breakfast.”
“Or… we just call for room service, and then really enjoy ourselves in the shower while we wait for it to arrive.”
“See, that’s one of the reasons I love you. You always have such great ideas.” Yunjin than happily went back to sucking my cock. I had to remind her a few minutes later that I still had to order the food. She let my erection slip back out of her mouth and told me what she wanted for breakfast then headed to the in the shower to get ready for me. I called in the order and told them that there was no rush on the order since I was about to take a shower.
Walking into the bathroom I saw my new wife under the spray of water. “Babe, next time we sneak out and have sex on the beach we need to make sure and bring towels or a blanket or something. I still have sand in my hair from last night” Yunjin yelled over the sound of the shower. I just stood and watched as she twirled in the large shower stall letting the water rinse off the soap suds.
When she wiped the water from her eyes, she saw me standing against the wall watching her. Yunjin gave me a flirtatious look and bit her lip. She then stepped up and pressed her delicious tits up against the glass and gave me the come here signal with her finger. I quickly followed her command and got in the shower with her. She spun around to face me and we made out under the spay of the water. I moved her back as we kissed until she was up against the glass wall. Then I could not help myself but to bend down and take one of her nipples into my mouth. I was still obsessed with how perfect her tits were, and she loved how I loved her tits. I could go for a while playing with them, and playing with her, but she had already gotten me very worked up and we had food on the way, so I flipped her around. Knowing what was coming, Yunjin bent at the waist a bit and stuck out her ass as she braced herself up against the glass. Taking hold of her hips I pulled her back and push my hips forward. We both moaned in pleasure as my cock entered her. After all the sex we’d had since we’d been together, her pussy fit me like a glove.
“Oh god yes,” Yunjin said repeatedly as I pounded her from behind. Our bodies were in perfect sync, her pushing her ass back right as I pushed my hips forward causing the sounds of our sex echoed in the bathroom. When I knew she was getting close to her orgasm I moved my hand around to rub her clit until I finally felt the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around my cock as she climaxed. As she came, I grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her body. With nothing else holding her up, Yunjin once again found herself with her tits pushed up against the glass. This time instead of silently motioning for me to join her, she was loudly moaning as I used her body. I kept hammering her from behind until I was all but about to cum. I let go of her arms and pulled out, thinking I’d just cum all over her ass this time, but my wife had other ideas. She spun around and dropped to her knees. Wrapping her lips around my cock, she pushed my hand away from my dick and took hold of it herself. She began jacking off my dick with her tongue probing the head of my dick, all the while her eyes looked up at me with a look that seemed to be pleading me to cum. I didn’t hold back and fired my load in her mouth, which like so many times before she happily accepted and swallowed.
“Well, I got my morning protein,” she joked when it was over.
“Ha, yeah… Oh, shit the room service.” I said as I jumped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that they had left a cart with our breakfast just inside the door. We had our breakfast, of course, Yunjin decided to have it naked and let her body air dry after she found out they already delivered the food. Afterward we got dressed and headed out to into the resort. We stopped in on a few of the shops and then walked along the beach. I’ll freely admit, we were totally acting like that couple you hate to be around. We had our arms wrapped tightly one another as we walked everywhere, there were tons of public displays of affection. I normally would have hated us for being that couple, but we were on our honeymoon and Yunjin was in a particularly lovey-dovey mood so I just went with it.
We were pretty much attached at the hip until mid-afternoon. We had dinner reservations tonight and Yunjin wanted to go to the salon for a mani/pedi. With time to myself, I hung out at the beach. The suite we were rented also came with a private cabana, so I relaxed and did some reading in there. After a little while, I got up and headed over to the bar to get myself a drink. As I approached the bar, I couldn't help but notice the blondie standing there ordering a drink. Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice her, I mean notice that really nice ass in her small bikini bottoms cut.
“Getting a good look?” I apparently had looked a little too long because the woman had looked around while waiting on her drink, and had caught me looking at her ass.
“I...um...shit, sorry.” I apologize as she looked at me through her big sunglasses. As she turned around fully, I couldn’t help but check out the rest of her. Compared to Yunjin, she had a whiter complexion, perky breast, a bigger ass, and she was about as tall barefoot as Yunjin was in heels. “I guess I should almost take it as a compliment that I can get the guy honeymooning with Yunjin to check me out.”
“You know who I am?” I asked as I leaned against the bar next to her.
“Of course. This resort isn’t that big, and security doesn’t stop guest them from gossiping like high schoolers.” It was not until she raised her sunglasses and I saw her eyes did I realize who it was I was talking to.
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“Oh, Somi. wow.”
“So you know who I am too?” She asked flirtatiously.
“Of course, I’m a fan actually. I surprised Yunjin with tickets to your concert last summer.” Somi stayed and talked with me even after she had gotten her drink and I ordered two mojitos, We ended up both taking a seat at the bar and chatting even after my drink arrived.
“So what do you do, for work?”
“I work for advertising agency.”
“Huh? So what’s your connection to the entertainment industry?”
“None, unless you include Yunjin.”
“Hmmm.”
“What?” I asked she was obviously probing for some bit of information.
“It’s nothing. Just trying to figuring out what Yunjin sees in you.”
“Well fuck you too.”
Somi laughed. “I’m sorry that sounded bad. I mean you’re handsome and all, and in pretty good shape. If we meet at a bar and you started hitting on me, I sure wouldn’t stop you. It’s just that...well, generally we don’t end up with people outside the entertainment industry. When they do, it usually comes back to one of two reasons.”
“Oh yeah, what are those?” I asked curious to hear her theory.
“Well, one, is that they are rich, and I mean like really rich. So are you…”
“I mean I make decent money for a normal person, but no, I’m not from money and you probably made more from your last tour than I’ll make in the next several years.”
“Okay then,” she said with a very big smirk on her face before taking a sip of her drink.
“So?”
“So? So what?” She asked knowingly.
“What’s the second reason?”
“Well, let's just say…” She then put her hand on my thigh, “that they tend to have certain specific talents that women find irresistible,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Ummm...wellll…I mean, I don’t know, I… well I know Yunjin is always more than satisfied with the job I do.”
“I bet.” Somi was now rubbing my thigh. “Any chance I can take a peek at what she’s been enjoying?”
“Gezz” the word slipped out of my mouth before my brain could react. I lifted up my hand with my ring on it. “Look I’m flattered but I’m married remember? As extremely tempting an offer as that might be, I really can’t.”
“Come on. Come back to my cabana, I’ll even give you a peek at what’s under my bathing suit first if you promise to show me what’s under yours. She doesn’t ever have to know” Somi whispered into my ear in a sultry voice. I hadn’t noticed until just now how close she had moved her chair to mine.
“Are you serious?”
“Come on, I know you want me. I know you think I’m hot. Maybe even a little hotter than your wife.”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“You can put something in my mouth if you want.”
“I...umm...look, another time, another life, I would have happily mounted you right on this bar and spend hours going to town on you, but as I said I am happily married.”
“Okay,” Somi said as she got up from her chair. “If you change your mind or just want to get out of the sun, I’ll be in cabana number 5.”
“I have a cabana of my own, but thanks.” Somi gave my thigh a squeeze before walking back to her cabana, and I couldn’t help but watch her ass as she walked away. And I am pretty sure she knew it too. When she was gone from view I sighed and finished off my second mojito. I then texted Yunjin to see when she was going to be finished. I was hoping soon, so I could meet her back up in our room and plow the hell out of her.
Unfortunately, she said she had decided to also get her hair done and wouldn’t be back to our room for another hour or so. I sat at the bar to collect my thoughts while trying cool off a bit, and then I paid my bill. The bartender, who had obviously been listening to me and Somi, gave me a look like I was crazy as I paid and left.
I took a quick dip into the ocean before heading back to my cabana. I thought for a quick second about heading to find Somi’s cabana but I knew I shouldn’t. As I approached my cabana, I seemed a little odd that the privacy flaps were closed. I just assumed that someone from the hotel staff closed them because it was unattended and I had left some stuff in there.
“Oh hey,” I heard a female voice casually say as I passed through the curtains.
“Ho-ly shit.”
“I guess I accidentally mixed up which cabana was mine,” Somi said as she laid on the patio couch in front of me. Resting against her elbow with her torso facing me. With the two pieces of her bikini crumbled into a ball on the coffee table, she was giving me an amazing view of her naked body. The hottest part about it was Somi had her legs split at almost a perfect 90-degree angle with one resting on the on the couch and the other pointing straight up in the air. I was speechless. I have no clue for how long or how many times my eyes scanned up and down her naked body. From her long perfect legs to her pussy with just a slight landing strip, to her tight toned stomach, to her perky b-cups with thick hard nipples just begging to be sucked and nibbled on, and finally up to her pretty face and mesmerizing eyes.
“Well, I guess you have seen me now,” she said as she slowly lowered her leg and used her free arm to rub and emphasize parts of her body, “It would only be fair you give me a peak now.”
“Okay,” I unconsciously agreed. I knew it was wrong, I was married, I was on my honeymoon, but she had me under her spell. I had been able to avoid earlier temptation since me and Yunjin had become official, including several attempts, last time being just a month before the wedding. This time, I just couldn’t say no. I moved the coffee table out of the way as I approached her, and then stood right in front of her face.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said as I undid the drawstring to my board shorts, “we’re not going to have sex.” I was hoping to keep some control over the situation and set up some boundaries.
“That’s fine,” she agreed. I then dropped my shorts and my hard cock sprang forward right in front of her face.
“Hmm, not bad. I’ve had bigger, but you still have a very nice cock.” She reached over and took hold of my shaft.
“Thanks,” I said as she slowly stroked me.
“By the way,” she looked up at me with her brown eyes and said, “oral doesn’t count.” Her eyes dropped back to my dick and she leaned forward. She gave my cock head a very sensual kiss, then stuck out her tongue and flicked it a few times against my tip. Any thought of leaving left my mind as soon as she closed her lips around my dick and began sliding more and more of me into her mouth.
“Oh fuck” I groaned as I rested one hand on the back of her head and she sucked me with earnest. My eyes were focused on her and her face until I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Looking down the couch I saw her legs squirming as she used her off-hand to play with herself. God watching her play with herself, I wanted to do more.
“Fuck it, stand up,” I said as I took a step back, my cock slipping from her mouth.
“What? Why?”
“Just stand up and get off the couch.” She had a confused and upset look on her face as she got off the couch. Once she was off, I got on the couch and laid flat on my back. “If we’re going to do this, and oral doesn’t count, then we're going to do it right,” I told her and Somi’s face quickly went from frustrated to smiling. She quickly got on the couch, straddling my face before bending down over my cock. As she opened her mouth and lowered it around my dick, she also lowered her crotch onto my face. Soon we were in a full-blown 69 on the couch. The two of us loudly moaned without mouths full while we serviced each other.
My mouth moved around between lapping up her pussy to teasing her clit, all the while my hands had a firm grasp on her tight ass. As we continued, Somi continued to squirm around on top of me as she deep-throated me. While she humped my face, I occasionally had to move my hands around, and at one point I found one of my fingers resting on the outside of her anus. I did not realize it as I was too focused on my task of getting the gorgeous woman to cum, but Somi obvious felt it. She quickly sat up.
“Yes, do it!” She yelled. I tried to ask what she was talking about, but my voice was muffled by her continuing to sit on my face. She still seems to understand me though. “Your finger, stick in my ass,” she pleaded. It was then I realized where my index finger rested. Instead of giving her exactly what she wanted I took my finger away and shoved it and my middle finger into her pussy. I fingered her hard for 30 seconds, getting my fingers nice and wet, then pulled them from her pussy and drove my index finger into her ass.
“Uggghhhh yyessss!” She moaned as I began fingering her ass. She enjoyed my tongue on her clip and her finger in her ass before she went back down to sucking my cock. I could feel Somi moaning more and more around my cock until I felt her ass tighten around my finger and pussy gush on my face. Even after she came, she continued to suck my cock as I continued to tongue her pussy. We kept going until I could finally feel my impending orgasm approaching. I wanted to warn her but with my mouth still buried in her cunt, speaking was difficult. Instead, I used a free hand to give her ass two hard slaps. Somi moaned in response, but she also lifted her ass up a bit, anticipating another slap. With my mouth now free I told her what was coming. Somi quickly got off me and the couch and went to her knees on the ground.
“Quick stand up,” she told me, “I want you to watch. I want you to watch as you cover me in your cum.” I got up and stood in front her. She used both hands to jerk me off, staring up at me the entire time with a big dirty smile.'
“Oh fuck, uugggghhhh” I said as I came. Somi closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue as jets of cum continued to shoot out my dick. You would have thought it’d been days not hours since the last time I got off. When it was over Somi had streaks of my cum running down her face and breasts.
“Holy… wow,” I said when it was all over.
“Wow is right. You can eat pussy like that and your dick is still hard? No wonder Yunjin married you.” Looking down, Somi was still holding my shaft with one hand and I was still almost totally hard. “You sure about that no sex thing? I promise you, I’m worth it.”
I quickly declined, got dressed and left the cabana as soon as I could. I had no doubt that Somi was ‘worth it’ and given any time she would have gotten me to comply. As I headed back to our room, I texted Yunjin and said she would meet me up there in 10 minutes. Thanked god that I would beat her back to the room. As soon I was in, I tossed off my clothes and got into the shower to try and rub off any scent of Somi that might be on me. I made real sure to wash my face and to wash my fingers as well.
“Oh, is that for me?” Looking at the bathroom doorway I saw Yunjin standing there in her sundress. She had come back sooner than I thought, or maybe I was just taking a longer shower than I realized. The thing she was referring to, was, of course, the boner I was still sporting. Even as I showered to tried to get the smell of Somi off me, my mind could not help but think about what would have happened if I stayed and everything I would have done to her.
“Of course it is,” I lied. “Why don’t you take off that dress and come in here so I can give it to you?”
“I’d love to, but I just got my hair done and I want it to last this way at least until after dinner. When you’re done in there meet me out on the balcony.”
“Okay,” I agreed. Once she left, I gave myself one more quick scrub down with some of her scented soap. When I finished, I dried off, wrapped myself in a towel and headed out to the balcony. Yunjin was sitting in one of the chairs looking out at the ocean. She was sipping on a drink she made for herself and she had also used the mini bar to make me a rum and coke. I came up behind her and then bent down to give her a kiss. She kissed me back, and as we kissed, she playfully gave my towel a yank causing to fall off. We were high enough up that I didn’t have to worry about anyone looking up and seeing me nude. As we broke our kiss Yunjin ’s eyes looked down to my crotch and then back up to my eyes.
“Take a seat and just remember to not mess up my hair,” she told me. I sat down on the other chair as she got up. She took the pillow from the chair and tossed it to the ground at my feet. Knowing where this was going, I spread my legs as Yunjin dropped to her knees on top of the pillow.
“I love you,” she told me before proceeding to give me a blowjob on the hotel balcony. I told her I love her back as she slid her mouth all the way down my tool. As I sat there getting my shaft blown by Yunjin while I looked out at the ocean at a fancy tropical resort, I thought that I must have been crazy earlier to put any of this jeopardy. This was all I ever wanted for a long time and to put it at risk, even for someone like Somi, was madness. I then just sat back and enjoyed as my wife gave my balls a tongue bath and then went back to deep-throating me. Once I was set to blow Yunjin was once again all too happy to take my load in her mouth. Unlike this morning, she collected it all in her mouth and one I was done cumming she opened her mouth and swished her tongue around, showing me my load before swallowing.
Once that was over, she gave my cock another once over with her tongue, then returned to her seat. We drank and talked and watched the sunset over the water. She told me about what she was up to when at the salon, and I told her about hanging out at the beach. While I wasn’t sure it was the right move at the time, I told Yunjin that I had met Somi at the bar at the beach and that I talked to her for a bit. In my head, I thought if we ever ran into Somi it would be a lot easier to just act as we had met and nothing happened than for Yunjin to find out I had met Somi and for some reason never told her about it. Yunjin said she wished she was there when I meet Somi and that she was going to keep an eye out for her at the resort. Just like that, the topic of Somi was over. Yunjin got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the sunset and then insisted we take some selfies in front of it. I quickly put a shirt and shorts on then came back out and let Yunjin pose me however she wanted for a bunch of pictures.
After the sun had set, we got ready for dinner. We were set to have dinner at the upscale restaurant at the resort. I put on a light-weight suit with a white shirt and no tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. Yunjin dressed in a light flowy blue dress that shows off her legs and cleavage, and a pair of scrappy knee-high peep-toe boots. When we got to the restaurant it was still nice out so we told the hostess to give us a seat outside. Yunjin asked her to also take a picture of us together before we took out seats. She was nice enough to take a few of us, Yunjin hugging tightly up against me in each one. Eventually, we sat down and began looking over the menu. We were seated for a few minutes when all of a sudden Yunjin called.
“Oh, Somi!” Yunjin was looking past me and waving at someone. “Babe look, it’s Somi,” Yunjin said. I turned around, and walking towards us next to the hostess was Somi. She had a big smile and was waving back at Yunjin . Somi was wearing a short white dress with black heels.
“Oh my god, hi,” Somi said as she came over to our table. Yunjin got up and the two women hugged. “Congratulations on getting married!”
“Thank you, I was hoping I would run into you after my husband said he met you today.”
“Oh, he told you about that?” Somi looked at me with her eyebrow raised.
“Yup. Just about how we met at the bar and talked a bit,” I said making sure Somi knew the story I told.
“So, who are you here with?” Yunjin asked.
“Oh, no one. I’m just here alone on vacation. Wanted to get away while I had time between projects.”
“That’s nice, but you shouldn't have to eat alone. Why don’t you join us?”
“Really? You don’t mind?” Yunjin insisted. I in the meanwhile did not like how this was going. More to the point, I didn’t know if Somi was just here just by coincidence or if it was to tease me. The hostess moved the three of us over to a larger table. Yunjin sat across the table from me and Somi sat between us. We ordered drinks first, with a bottle of wine to come when our food arrived.
“So how was the wedding?” Somi asked.
“Oh my god, it was amazing!” Yunjin pulled out her phone and began showing off some of the pictures and telling her about the details. The two were totally engrossed in details and went back and forth for a while.
“Wow sounds like it was perfect,” Somi said.
“Well, it had a few bumps,” I finally said.
“What bumps? My sister?” Yunjin asked knowing what I was talking about. “It wasn’t that bad, and it was a little funny.”
“I still say she did it on purpose. She may deny it, and you may not believe it, but I’m telling you that she hates being in your shadow.”
“Wait, what are you two talking about,” Somi spoke up.
“Yejin gave the singer of the band at our wedding a blowjob in the bathroom, and about halfway through his mic came on,” I explained. “Suddenly through the speakers, we could hear his heaving breathing her slurping on his dick. It took five minutes before anyone knew what the sound was or where it was coming from.” Somi burst out laughing, and I also couldn’t help but laugh a bit.
“Well at least the singer enjoyed himself at the wedding” Somi laughed
“Not as much as a couple of my husband’s groomsmen did,” Yunjin said.
“I still don’t get why you invited Ning to the wedding,” I said.
“Because I didn’t think she’d actually accept, and I wanted to rub my wedding in that bitch’s face” Yunjin replayed.
“Ning?” Somi questioned.
“Ning Yizhuo.”
“Oh, this must be good. I gotta hear this.”
“She fucked three of his groomsmen,” Yunjin said bluntly.
“Bullshit!” Somi yelled.
“Yep,” I told her. I took out my phone, opened a group chat, and handed it over to Somi. “Just scroll down and you’ll see the photos.”
“Oh wow,” Somi said as she scrolled.
“Yup two different guys during the wedding, and then all 3 in a hotel room afterward.”
“I still don’t get why she thought I’d care about her having sex with them. But she definitely made their night.”
“Wait, I thought you said she took 3 guys back to the hotel room, I only see two,” Somi said as she scrolled through the pictures.
“Third guy is taking the picture,” I told her.
“Right, that makes sense,” Somi asked if I had any photos of the wedding and I told her yes and where to find them. In general, it was all a very normal time. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was Yunjin was drinking a little more than usual. By the time our dinner and the wine arrived both women were on their third sex on the beaches.
“So how did you guys meet,” Somi asked. I knew Yunjin enjoyed telling the story, but it was also an edited version of the story that she liked to tell.
“Well, we went to the same gym and would see each other around, but never talked to one another. Then one night when I was leaving my car wouldn’t start, and he happens to be leaving as well and helped me out. He drove me home that night, drove me back the next day, and helped me find a good mechanic.” She left out the part where I asked her to flash me her tits as repayment for the ride and we ended up having sex in my car.
“Then for the next few months, we hung out a bit.” We were somewhere between friends with benefits and booty calls who’d occasionally grab dinner or see a movie together. “Then one morning something happened, we started fighting and both finally admitted we had real feelings for one another.” What happened was I ran into her sister at a club one night, we got drunk and ended up hooking. Yunjin found us both passed out naked on a lounge chair by her pool, my morning wood still inside her sister. “And ever since then, we’ve been together and totally in love.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, it is,” Yunjin said looking my way and rubbing her foot along my leg under the table. Dinner continued and by the time we finished eating Yunjin was drunk. She continued to rub against my leg periodically. Twice she fully pressed her foot up against my crotch. After our plates were taken away Somi ordered chocolate lava cake and a bottle of champagne,
“Oh one more thing,” she told the waitress “charge the whole dinner to my room.” The waitress nodded and walked back to the kitchen.
“Somi, you didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“It’s nothing, consider it a wedding gift.”
“That’s so sweet,” Yunjin said.
“I gotta tell you, Yunjin , I didn’t earlier, but I am starting to get why you married him.”
“What’s not to like? He’s handsome, he’s supportive, he’s funny, and the sex is great.”
“Yunjin!” I objected, but she and Somi just laughed.
“What, I’m not telling her anything I haven’t already told my friends,” Yunjin explained.
“So you’ve been enjoying your honeymoon,” Somi asked Yunjin.
“Oh yeah,” Yunjin gulped the rest of her wine. “Some guy’s brag about being able to go all night and whatever, but he really can. Ever since he got past the ‘oh wow I’m banging a celebrity’ phase, you know what I’m talking about?” Somi nodded in response. “Well, ever since then it’s been so good. Not that it wasn’t good before, but after, WOW.” Yunjin started to giggle.
“Well, that’s nice to know.” Somi placed her hand on my thigh. “You two really do seem to be in love though.”
“We are.” Yunjin reached across the table and took hold of my hand. “I’m so comfortable and trusting of him. I gotta tell you if he were some of the other exes, I’d be totally threatened by you. You are exactly his type,” Yunjin told Somi.
“I don’t have a type” I disagreed.
“Are you kidding? The first time I met your mom, she said I was so your type, but then she showed me pictures of some of his exes. All of them have those slender athletic bodies, boobs between a ‘B’ and a ‘C’, and don’t forget their big ass.”
“It does sound like you have a type.” Somi looked at me. Under the table, however, she had moved her hand up my thigh. I was about to say something, but Somi pulled back as a server arrived with our dessert and champagne.
“Look, I should at least let you two have desert alone,” Somi said as she stood up from the table. Yunjin told her that she didn’t need to leave, but Somi said it’s fine.
Just she’s about to left, she said “I hope to see you again soon,” all the while looking right at me. Yunjin didn’t notice this, but I did. The two of us ate desert alone, and when we finished, we headed back up to our room. I told Yunjin to bring the bottle of champagne with us since we both only had a single glass and it was already paid for.
After dinner, Yunjin was very drunk and very horny. We made out passionately in the elevator. By the time we got to our floor, Yunjin had her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her that way down the hallway to our room. I had to stop kissing Yunjin so I could see where I was going, so she started kissing biting my neck. She seemed very intent on giving me a series of hickies.
When we got to our room, I put her down and we quickly left a trail of clothing to the bedroom. Once we reached it, I was naked and Yunjin was left in nothing but her boots. She stood there still hold the champagne bottle. I took the bottle from her and I began pouring some of it down her chest. I did my best to drink it off her as I poured. Sucking it off her tits, chest, and stomach.
I then gently pushed her so she fell backward onto the bed, her legs still hanging off the edge. I filled her belly button with champagne, did a body shot off her, and then repeated the process a few times. When I was satisfied, I dropped down to my knees on the floor in front of the bed and poured the rest of the champagne all over my wife’s pristine pussy. Yunjin moaned loudly and wrapped her legs around my neck as I began lapping up her cunt. When I could taste not more champagne, I spread apart her lips and buried my tongue into her pussy.
I have loved eating her out, and I loved listening to the moans she makes when I do it. Since that day I had learned a lot tricks of her body and knew what she liked and when she liked it. I knew when was the right moment to move up to her clit and to suck on it, when to flick it with my tongue, when to rub her clit and when to finger her, and on a rare occasion when she wanted her nipples tweaked. That’s how five minutes after first sticking my tongue into her, I was now working towards her second orgasm.
I had my lips on her clit while I used two fingers to finger her. I had Yunjin holding her legs up to her torso, keeping her thighs wide apart. Between the booze and the bliss, Yunjin was lost in her own little world. I sucked on and flicked her clit while I finger blasted her. I could hear her moans quickening. I knew she was getting close. I moved my mouth away and placed my thumb up against her clit. I then used my arm as a jackhammer as I fingered her. I soon had her cumming, but I didn’t slow down. I kept on going. The room filled with the sound of wet skin slapping as my hand and her pussy was now covered in her juices. I knew I was getting close and a minute later my wife screamed and began squirting like a fire hydrant. Yunjin rarely ever squirted, but when she was drunk and really, really horny it was possible. When it was over I took my hand away and stood up over Yunjin.
“Fuck me, seriously?” I said as I looked upon Yunjin naked, well pleased, body. I had apparently done too good of a job because she had passed out on the bed. Knowing from experience she was not going to wake up until morning. I now stood at the end of the bed with a cock as hard as steel, and nowhere to put it. I mean I could just go ahead and have sex with her anyway. We’d both had sex with the other before while the other was asleep or passed out, and with little guilt at all. However, something about doing it to my wife on our honeymoon didn’t feel right. I decided to just call it a night and take care of myself, but first I had to tuck Yunjin into bed. I took off her boots and then picked her up and slipped her under her covers. When she was safely settled, I put two bottles of water and some Excedrin on her nightstand, I then went over to the couch, opened my laptop, and started to type in one of my favorite free video sites.
As the site loaded, I suddenly heard a text on my phone. I had no clue who could be texting me. It was 1 AM, When I opened the message it was pictures of two fingers holding open pussy lips of a pussy I recognize really well from my up close view this past afternoon. It also came with a note that read “in case you’re interested in a midnight snack” along with her room number. The name of the saved contact was ‘Beach Buddy’.
I quickly texted back “When did you save your number to my phone?” She quickly texted back three messages.
“Wow, that was a fast response. What happens to can go all night? Also, you should really pay more attention to your phone when you hand it to strangers.”
I knew I shouldn’t respond. Between the picture, I was sent and the memory of this afternoon, I had more than enough material to get me off before bed. I knew this in my head, but it wasn’t the head on my shoulders that was doing the thinking at the moment. I texted back, “She said I could last all night, she never said that she could.”
“Aww, poor baby. Why don’t you come up and we can talk about it? Or… if you don’t want to talk, I’m sure we can find something else to do.” I thought about texting her back, but I knew there was no point. The moment I answered her text I knew how this was going to end. I took my phone, slipped on some shoes, put on some gym shorts and a t-shirt. I made my way to the room number I had been given and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute and the door finally opened.
“You win. Let’s do this” I said as I pushed past her and entered the room.
“You could sound a little more excited,” Somi said as she closed and locked the door. She had her hair down and appeared to only be wearing a pink silk robe. “I mean…” I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her to me and slipped my tongue into her mouth. After momentarily being caught surprised by my action, Somi started kissing me back. I pinned her against the wall and we continued to make out, my hands roamed all over her body. Somi began lifting my shirt and we broke off our kissing.
“Am I excited enough for you now?” I asked as I took off my shirt and pressed up against her a little more, making sure she could feel my hard cock against her. Somi gave a dirty little giggle as she felt me against her.
“Oh, those are new,” Somi said as she could now see the marks Yunjin left along my neck.
“Yeah, Yunjin can be a little aggressive when she drinks, though I think she’ll be as surprised as you are in when she wakes up in the morning.”
“Really, she’s that out?”
“Oh yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her that drunk.”
“Good, then she’ll never know if I give you a few of my own.” She raised up and began biting and sucking on the side of my neck, meanwhile I slipped my hand under her robe and found her wet pussy. Somehow her pussy felt even smoother than it had just hours earlier on the beach.
“We should take this to the bedroom,” she seductively whispered into my ear when she was satisfied with the work she had done to my neck. I eagerly agreed and stepped back and let her lead the way. She took a couple of steps then stopped and looked back over her shoulder at me. I then watched as her rope slowly slipped off her shoulders before falling to the floor. I almost began to drool as the ass that first got me to notice her at the bar was now on full display for me. Somi laughed as she saw the pure lust in my eyes and then ran off to the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants as I chased after her. When I got there, I saw her smiling brightly as she sprawled out on the bed. As I looked up her long shapely legs, I noticed something different between her legs.
“You shaved,” I said as I crawled onto the bed. Her landing strip from earlier today was now gone.
“I hoping tonight would be a special night. Care to see how it feels...with your tongue?” she asked.
“Normally I’d love to, but I’ve had enough foreplay today.” Remembering how she looked when I first saw her in that cabana, I knew exactly how I wanted her. I picked up one of her legs and lifted it straight up into her air as I moved in between her legs. Taking my cock, I rubbed it against her already wet and freshly shaved cunt. Once my dick was nice and wet, I pushed forward. Somi moaned and her eyes rolled back as she felt my cock head pierce her. I slid all the way inside and enjoyed the feeling of her tight warm pussy around my cock. Her pussy felt different but just as good as Yunjin. I soon slowly started to build up tempo.
“Ummmm….yyyeeeessss… give it to me. Harder,” Somi pleaded. I was not there for slow sensual love-making like what me and Yunjin had done the night prior. I was there to fuck and Somi wanted me there to get fucked. As a result, I soon had the bed shaking as I pounded her pussy with my cock. I still had one of Somi’s legs pressed up against my chest, pointed straight up as I banged her and looked down at her.
“Tell me you want me,” Somi begged.
“I want you.”
“Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I want to fuck you so hard that at worst you will have problems walking tomorrow, and at best you end up shattering your pelvis.”
“Fuck!” she called out. Looking down at her, I found my eyes locked on her breast, glistening with sweat, and her hard nipples. They looked so tempting, I couldn’t resist anymore. Moving her leg down I sat with my legs out and pulled her on top of me. Somi wrapped her arms and legs around me and I lowered my head to her chest. Now in the lotus position, we continued to fuck as my mouth toyed with her nipple. Somi was loving it. She pressed my head firmly against her tits as she bounced on my lap, only ever loosening her grip on my head as I switched from the right one to the left and vice versa.
“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Lay back, let me take over.” I did what she asked and laid down on the bed. She put her hand on my chest, leaned forward and let the hips do the rest. Those years of performing on stage had really done her well as she moves her hips quickly. Her moans and breath quickened I knew she was getting close, I put my hands on her hips as she rode me until she finally came all over my cock. As she came, I pulled her hips all the way down. With my dick all the way buried in orgasming Somi, I let go myself and shot my load deep into her.
“Oh wow,” Somi moaned as she dropped to my chest. I took a minute to catch my breath and then rolled us over. I was still hard inside Somi and ready to go again. With Somi on her back, I moved to my knees again and put the gorgeous woman legs on my shoulders.
“Gawd, Yunjin wasn’t lying about you, was she,” Somi said as I began pounding her again.
“Nah-uh, we’ve just gotten started,” I told her as my cock pumped in and out of her. My previous load now leaking out of her as I fucked her. We fucked like this for a while longer. She came again as I rubbed her clit and she played with her nipples as we fucked. I knew I was getting close again, but I still had time.
“Roll over, I wanna do it from behind,” Somi happily obliged. She made some comment about how all guys want to with her, but I wasn’t really listening. I was watching as she rolled over and instead if getting on all fours, she moved to the top of the bed and grabbed the headboard and stuck out her ass. I quickly moved in behind her and slammed my dick back into her. I loved watching her ass jiggle as we fucked.
“Remember earlier,” Somi said through gritted teeth as she looked back at me, “My ass. Stick your finger in my ass.” I gave my finger a long suck, I could still taste Yunjin on it, making it nice and wet.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Somi yelled as I fucked and fingered her ass. “You can fuck my ass you know. I got lube in the nightstand. You can stick your big, hard, married cock in my ass. When was the last time Yunjin let you do that?” I gave Somi’s ass a hard slap for insulting Yunjin, and because an ass like hers is hard not to spank.
“The morning after our wedding actually. Right before we had brunch with her parents and friends. As for the lube, we won’t need that.” I kept pounding her. Somi’s ass quivered as she climaxed once again. As I felt my cum rising from my balls, I pulled out of the Fast Forward singer. With one hand pumping my cock, I used the other to spread her ass cheeks. With my dick pointed at the target, I came all over her puckered asshole.
When I finished cumming I did not waste much time. I used my cock to spread my cum all over her asshole before I started to push the head into her puckered hole. Somi let out a loud groan as my cock head slipped in and then moaned as she pushed back, letting more and more of my shaft into her. I began banging her in the ass, though at a slower pace than before. At first, just to loosen her up a bit, but after a little while, it was just because I was physically exhausted. My cock and head were willing, but my body just couldn’t keep up with the fucking I had given Somi before. Even still we went at it for a few minutes. I gave her tight ass a few more smacks. I could see my red handprint starting to show up on her.
Feeling me slowing down Somi once again decided to take command of the situation. Again having me lay flat on my back, she then got something from her nightstand before mounting me reverse cowgirl. I watched as she pointed my cock towards the ceiling and then lowered her ass down. Somi looked back at me as she started bouncing her ass on my cock. I then heard the sound of something vibrating and Somi began crying out louder than ever. She had pulled out her vibrator and was using it to toy with her clit as she fucked her as with my hard-on. Somi came two more times before I finally painted her colon with my third load of the night.
When it was over I stayed down on the bed and caught my breath. Somi got down and cuddled up next to me. We stayed like this in silence for about 10 minutes. I knew what I had just done was wrong, and Yunjin would be devastated if she ever found out, but damn I would have done it all over again. Yunjin was right, Somi was my very much my type and she was also a hell of a fuck.
Looking over at the clock it was now getting to be early morning and I knew I had to leave. I told Somi I needed to use her shower. I turned on the water and began to soap up when Somi, still naked, walked into the bathroom with my clothes and put them on the counter. Instead of then heading back to bed, she then opened the shower door and got in with me. She stood behind me and washed my back. I could feel her breast press into my back, as she began reaching around washing my cock. Soon enough she had me hard again and she blew me once again until I came all over her face. She then said goodbye and went to bed. I finished up in her shower, got dressed, and snuck back to my room. It was passed 6:30 am when I got back to my room. Thankfully Yunjin was still passed out and looked like she had hardly moved since I tucked her in. I then stripped off my clothes, got back into my honeymoon bed and wrapped myself around my wife, before drifting off into a deep well-needed sleep.
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cybrasigilism · 4 months ago
Note
I would die if you wrote an nsfw fic about Namgyu x reader 😭😭😭 like what if he’s your toxic ex or you guys just hate each other and it grows into an attraction… I love your writing so much btw!!
IFHY (Player 124/Nam-gyu x Reader)
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warnings: smut of course, i mean have you seen my page? | not proofread | lowercase intended | unknown identities | nam-gyu’s a dick | unprotected sex (the pullout method is not reliable ladies and gentlemen) | fingering | degradation | rough sex | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character are different from yours
character: nam-gyu (player 124)
A/N: there needs to be a larger selection of GIFs for 124 man, i can’t find any ones of him NOT being in the background its unfortunate. hope y’all enjoy as always, i found this one sort of challenging to write, it’s definitely out of my comfort zone but i still had fun!
MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised
• ─────────────── •
toleration.
that was the one thing keeping you going in these new, uncertain circumstances of yours. as long as you laid low, didn’t complain, and simply tolerated your new life then maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.
that seems easy, except for the fact that there was one thing, rather one person, you just could not tolerate. and that was player 124.
sure, the crowd he stuck to was overall quite obnoxious, but for some reason 124 in particular really got under your skin. first off, you didn’t like how he and his purple-haired crackhead friend would always pick on that player 333. sure, he may have scammed lots of people out of their money, but surely those idiots had bigger things to focus on over being petty nuisances.
secondly? the way he would stare at you with such hate for no good reason. you assumed it was probably due to the fact that you constantly voted X, even though you both knew it didn’t make much of a difference. it didn’t bother you that he hated you, seeing as the feeling was more than mutual, but you just wish he would focus his stare somewhere else.
and lastly, every single thing about him and his mannerisms just pissed. you. off. his whole smug demeanour really made you want to land a punch square between his eyes, but you figured he might actually be into that since he clearly had a death wish, seeing as how he always picked the O side of the vote. you were convinced that had it not been for his tweaker of a leader, he would have died a long time ago. to be honest, you wished he had.
that’s why, when he grabbed you by the sleeve and yanked you into a room for the mingle game, you were completely stunned. you would have figured 124 would have left you for dead, hell, you would have expected him to purposely knock you to the ground. maybe it was the adrenaline that made him grab you, maybe it was that he actually… wanted to save you? no, couldn’t have been.
unless..?
“what the hell did you do that for?” you asked, out of breath. he furrowed his brows, looking down on you with that usual stare. “well?” you continued, louder this time. he let out a chuckle before taking a glance out at all the unlucky players who couldn’t find groups.
“what’s so funny?” you questioned, steadying yourself against the wall. he looked back at you, with that shit eating smirk that you hated so much. “i just didn’t realize that you wanted to die that badly.” his response took you aback, a sour expression appearing on your face.
“oh, i suppose i should thank you for yanking me by the arm like that then?” you huffed, rolling your shoulder as you adjusted your sleeve. he approached you, and you suddenly felt the urge to swallow the saliva you just became alarmingly aware of. “you don’t have to thank me now..” he started, looking you up and down in such a way that made your cheeks grow warmer. “you can just pay me back later.”
just then, the doors unlocked, and player 124 was more than happy to swing it open and head back to his little group, not without looking back at you with a sly wink. you stayed stood in the room for a brief moment, still leaned against the wall, trying to process why your cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.
oh god, you weren’t… catching feelings for 124, were you?
———
it was lights out when you started thinking about your guys’s brief mingle room interaction. you still couldn’t wrap your mind around what you were feeling, but now you found yourself squeezing your legs together as you thought more and more about player 124. you couldn’t believe this, you didn’t even know this assholes name, and now he’s got you all hot and bothered like this?
you knew what you had to do, and you were not proud of it.
after about 5 solid minutes of convincing the circle-masked guard to allow you access to the bathroom, you quickly secured yourself in a stall. “i can’t believe i’m actually doing this right now.” was all you could think as you pulled your pants around your knees, along with your underwear, and slid your hand between your thighs. you had hoped no one could hear as you began to moan softly, just as your thoughts spiralled about player 124, and the tension between you two in the little mingle room; how much you wished he would have taken you right there, inside that cramped space. you felt yourself approaching the edge when you heard something that made your heart stop.
his voice. his voice?
something inside you prayed to god that somehow your imagination had just been that good, but you heard him again, calling out your number from just beyond the stall door. you were too petrified to say, think, even do anything. but of course, he pulled the door open and there you were, hand between your thighs with the single most horrified expression painted on your face.
“wow, couldn’t even wait for me, huh?” he mocked, his gaze fixated between your legs. “what the fuck are you looking at, pervert?!” you whisper-shouted, so as to not alert the guards. he laughed, and you don’t know how or why but that did something to you, as if your fingers currently on your clit were helping matters at all.
“pervert? i’d say you’re the perverse one, seeing how you were just jacking off in the public bathrooms. are you that much of a slut that you can’t keep your hands outta your pants for more than a night?” his degrading was not easing things, matter of fact it was only turning you on, and you were sure he knew that. you started to pull your hand away, and he shut the two of you inside the confined stall.
“what do you think you’re doing?” 124 asked, now on his knees so you had to meet his gaze. “i was just-“ you started, before being quickly interrupted by him grabbing your now exposed hand. “stopping?” he finished your sentence for you, cocking his head to the side with the same wide eyed faux-curious expression you’re sure you’ve seen him give others in the games. “don’t you dare stop on my account.” you tried to avoid eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “i can’t do it.. not in front of you.” your response felt totally out of character for yourself, and 124 totally called bullshit then and there. “fine, then i guess i’ll just have to help you then won’t i?” his boldness shouldn’t have shocked you, and you don’t think it did. you barely had time to wrap your head around the fact that he now had slithered his own hand between your legs before-
“oh my god.” was drawn from your lips as he slid his fingers up your slick folds, brushing against your clit as he rubbed up and down your pussy. “holy shit, i’ve hardly done anything and you’re already soaked.” he exclaimed smuggly, earning an attempted glare from you. “oh please, don’t take all the credit.” you scoffed, using every bit of willpower you could muster to ensure you didn’t moan, god forbid. “i think i can,” he chuckled, continuing what would be the beginning of his assault on your nerves, “you know you got this fucking wet thinking of me.” when you least expected it, he pushed not one, but two fingers into your cunt. at this point you saw stars, feeling yourself clench around him so soon you felt as though you should be ashamed of yourself, but you didn’t care.
“shit, already so tight for me, huh?” you could tell through 124’s tone than he was totally turned on by this, by how horny he made you. “if i had known you’d be this easy, i would have done this a while ago.” normally you would be completely offended by his words, but when he started circling your clit with his thumb you really couldn’t bring yourself to mind at all. “p-please…i need to..” you could barely get your words out through your moans, you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t understand you. “need ta’ cum, so bad-“
“oh yeah? you need it?” he taunted, only increasing his pace as he pumped his fingers knuckle-deep inside your throbbing pussy. “i don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” he stopped suddenly. you cried out at the abrupt loss of friction as he released his fingers from your firm grip. he took in the sight of how desperate you were as he lowered his pants, ordering you to free up your seat, to which you were shocked you could even stand at this point. “if you need to cum so bad, why don’t you show me that you deserve it.” he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to him. you couldn’t process what situation you were in just now. one minute you were convinced you hated the guy, and now your pussy was inches away from his dick? you can’t say you minded your predicament, you were just terribly shocked.
“why the hesitation? didn’t you say you needed to cum?” the return of the mocking tone was not lost on you, and you could feel yourself begin to shake. not out of fear, but out of pure anticipation. “i’m sorry, i just…” you began, before he grabbed you hips and pulled you down onto his lap, the both of you gasping at the abrupt feeling of pure ecstasy. “holy shit!” you cried out, gripping onto the walls of the stall as 124 began to bounce you on his cock. it’s almost as though he was setting the pace for what he wanted you to do, and you quickly caught on, sliding up and down his dick as his grip on your hips hardened.
“god you’re such a pathetic little whore,” he said through gritted teeth, slapping your ass while you rode him, earning a hearty moan from your lips. “oh, yeah? you like getting slapped like the little cockslut you are?” “y-es! oh fuck, oh fuck.” it was as if you were in a trance, telling him anything he wanted to hear. “yeah? imma need to hear you say it.” he teased, you could still feel him controlling your every move through the grasp he had on your hips. you tell him exactly what he wants. “i..i’m your..” you moan senselessly “your little cockslut-“
“fuck yeah, at least you know what you’re good for..” his words started to get a bit unsteady, maybe it was because of how tight you were clenching on him. “oh shit, are you close already?” he gasped, to which you responded something unintelligible. “fuck, i can barely understand you, babbling like a needy little whore.” you couldn’t take it, the way he made you feel was immeasurable to anything you’ve ever experienced. all you wanted in that moment was player 124, you never wanted him to stop pounding up into you with such tenacity.
with one final squeeze of your cunt, he held your hips down and a hot feeling quickly filled up your insides. a slew of profanities were expelled from his lips and you felt your whole body shake. as soon as your collective breathing steadied, he motioned you to get off his lap and he pulled his pants back up. you, however, could not possibly muster yourself to stand up at the moment, your legs still vibrating from the wild ride you just experienced.
“like i said,” he started, “if i had known you’d have been this easy.. woulda fucked you a lot sooner.” he turned and left the restroom, and you stayed slumped against the wall. now you could say one thing was for sure..
you definitely tolerated player 124.
• ─────────────── •
thanks so much for reading! i know it’s sort of different than what i usually write but i hope it’s satisfactory! as usual please, if you have any advice or constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing it’s greatly appreciated!
have a great day/night 💋
tags: @gabbystinks
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nottswitch · 5 months ago
Text
— if you’ve been nice, you get…
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───────────── 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. ─
summary: in the midst of the second wizarding war, you have to go into hiding at mattheo’s insistence – he knows his father will be looking for you. however, on christmas eve he pays you an unexpected yet very welcome visit
pairing: mattheo riddle x reader
cw: 18+ smut, established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, creampie, nipple play, praise, cursing
wc: 1.6k
a/n: another ‘nice’ one with mattheo <3 i just love vulnerable and needy matty, what can i say.
⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; mattheo m.list ; kinkmas 2024
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The sounds of the winter night were barely existent as you gazed into the window, the empty plain shimmering underneath the silvery moon hanging in the sky. It had been a while – a long, long while since you’d seen any type of civilization, stuck in the middle of nowhere, between a dense, howling forest and a vast plain of nothingness. Your cabin wasn’t bad – Mattheo wouldn’t just shove you anywhere, he’d always make sure you had as much comfort as the situation would allow it. But the cozy bed felt empty without the weight of his body, the heat of the fireplace felt cold without his body’s warmth next to you, the herbal tea was bitter and disgustingly diluted with no one to share it with.
Christmas Eve was supposed to be fun, a celebration of joy in preparation for the big feast. Instead, you felt the ever-consuming numbness, a hole in your chest that couldn’t be filled without Mattheo’s presence in your life. It had been impossibly hard, your life a mere hollow existence with no curly head, no infuriatingly charming smirk, no endlessly dark eyes in sight. But you persevered – you knew Mattheo cared about your safety and was doing it simply out of love, the thought of which carried you through the dull sequence of days.
A sudden knock on the door jolted you out of your thoughts, your senses instantly alerted. Your hand was immediately on your wand as you crept towards the front door of the cabin, your footsteps light and quiet. A slight creak of the handle being turned, and your face was peeking out of the crack, along with the tip of your wand. Your eyes widened in disbelief, taking in a very familiar face that you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing in at least two weeks. It couldn’t have been…?
“The place where we first kissed?”
“Third floor, behind the tapestry, your pretty little body pressed against the wall.”
Mattheo’s voice was as low as you remembered, slightly shaking from the excitement he was trying to contain within the bounds of his chest. Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, making that adorable dimple pop out in a way that made your heart flutter.
“Took you to a broom closet right after.”
A sigh escaped your lips, a smile spreading there – a reaction you could never help whenever he teased you. It really was him.
“Matty…”
“Shh, baby. Actions…”
The door was roughly yanked open, Mattheo’s eyes roaming all over your features, unmistakable desire and longing written all over his rugged yet still devilishly handsome face.
“Speak louder than words.”
The next moment, his lips were on yours, sliding, biting and sucking, his tongue easily slipping inside and claiming the warmth he’d been desperately craving for so, so long – two weeks without you seemed like two eternities. The sound of the door shutting and locking behind him was drowned out by your gasp, flowing into a moan as Mattheo’s hands glided over your body, one of them ending up firmly gripping your ass while the other one started eagerly kneading the flesh of your tits.
“Fuck, baby girl…” he whispered against your lips as he walked you back towards the couch, lowering you onto the plush surface and pressing you into the soft fabric. “Missed your perfect body so much.”
You couldn’t, and didn’t plan on holding back soft moans and whimpers as he started peppering kisses down your neck, his lips wet and messy from the kiss you had just shared, yet his movements were slow in contrast. He was savouring each and every inch of you, lifting up and tossing away your – actually, his – sweatshirt in the process, the barrier between your skin completely unnecessary. Mattheo hummed, the sound filled with shameless satisfaction, when he found out you weren’t wearing anything underneath.
“Waiting for me, huh?” he murmured, drinking in the sight of your perked up nipples for a good moment before lowering his head. His lips found the small mound, wrapping around it as his tongue swirled and lapped, lavishing your nipple with attention. Your fingers gently threaded through his messy, borderline wild curls, slightly damp from the snowflakes that landed there minutes ago. Mattheo’s eyes fluttered shut, his need for you increasing tenfold – the feeling of your stiff nipple in his mouth was a delightful mix with the dearly missed pressure of your nails on his scalp, sending small tingles of pleasure straight into his hardening cock.
“I’m always waiting for you,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling from the sensations his skillful tongue was bringing you. Mattheo hummed again, pulling away just to attach his lips to your other nipple. His hands were now on your hips, playing with the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers dipping underneath to caress your soft skin.
“Good girl,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the fullness of your breast in his mouth. “My good girl.”
The praise echoed in your lower abdomen, anticipation starting to coil like a spring. You’d been missing his touch, his hands, his everything for weeks – two weeks, basically, ages – and you could barely hold on, your thighs clenching around his waist. Mattheo chuckled lightly, feeling the pressure around him tightening, and he just knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you. This knowledge only served to heighten his arousal, his hips starting to grind into you at a slow, sensual pace. His cock throbbed in his jeans, eager to be freed and slip inside of you that very moment.
Reluctantly detaching himself from your tits, Mattheo took off his own shirt, pressing his torso against yours right after. The contact of your skin against his made you shiver, your hands sliding down to roam all over his chest and abs. His body felt so familiar, so right to the touch, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that somehow, you managed to survive without feeling it every single day. You didn’t want to – if you could, you’d spend every waking moment with him glued to your side.
“You’re driving me crazy, love,” Mattheo hissed against the skin of your neck, his lips going back to covering it with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He finally pulled your sweatpants down, discarding them onto the floor along with your underwear, his jeans and boxers joining them in a second. Without any more barriers between you, you could feel the heat of his cock against your dripping center, your entrance already squeezing at the excitement of what was to come.
“I want you, baby,” you nearly moaned out, feeling his hands grabbing your thighs to spread them further apart.
“Want you too, sweet girl,” he answered, his lips moving up, along your jawline, before finding yours again. As he kissed you, passion blending in with tenderness and affection, his fingers closed around the base of his length, his aching tip teasing through your folds. “Gonna make you feel so good… Gonna fill you all up…”
With that, he pushed inside, his cock stretching you out in a way that you missed so much. You moaned into his mouth, clutching at his back – you knew you were going to leave scratch marks, and Mattheo also knew he was going to wear them with pride. He started moving, his tip prodding at your cervix, the slight pain quickly overridden with pleasure. Your naked bodies were completely tangled together, the couch creaking slightly under the steady movements of your sweaty forms. The faint glow of the fireplace casted flickering shadows onto your faces, your eyes connected in a loving, yearning stare-off.
Your hand came up to cradle Mattheo’s cheek, tracing soft circles into his skin as your eyes momentarily closed, savouring each moment of closeness you could get from him. Your lips parted in quiet whines and moans, Mattheo’s cock hitting all the right spots inside of you to bring you closer and closer to the long-awaited edge. A small smile graced his expression as he took in the sight of you, flushed and lost in bliss – just like he wanted you, like he always wanted you, not a hint of worry on your pretty face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice ever so slightly hoarse, his own pleasure building up and up and up with each deep, slow thrust. “You close, baby?”
You could only nod, your stomach starting to flutter at the anticipation of being pushed over the edge.
“Come on, love. Cum for me,” he gently urged you. He craved to see you come undone underneath him, the longing he’d been wallowing in tugging at his chest – he couldn’t imagine leaving you after this, even though he knew he had to; unfortunately, he didn’t have much time. “Cum for me, like a good girl…”
And you did. The wave of pleasure wasn’t sudden – it was warm and sweet, carrying you into the joyful world where only the two of you existed, Mattheo’s name falling from your lips a soft caress in his ear. It took his entire restraint not to fall over with you, his grunts growing a bit louder as he rode out your orgasm, his whole body buzzing, getting ready for his own.
“Gonna fill you up now, baby,” he breathlessly whispered, his dampened forehead resting against yours, his movements getting sloppier. “Gonna leave you something to remember me, yeah?”
You gave him another small nod, your form still trembling in the aftershocks of your peak. One more push, and Mattheo was spilling deep into you, the heat of his seed warming you up from the inside. He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath, his hands mindlessly skimming over the soft skin of your hips.
“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him with your half-lidded eyes, unbridled affection swimming in their depths. Mattheo let out a chuckle, his adoring gaze meeting yours.
“Love you too, baby girl,” he echoed, a soft kiss landing on your forehead. “Merry Christmas Eve.”
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ordinaryschmuck · 6 months ago
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With Gooseworx all but confirming that the Jax being an AI thing is bullshit, I personally want to talk about an interesting part about Jax that a lot of theorists used as "evidence" that validates the theory:
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Jax's fourth wall breaks are a common topic brought up amongst the "Jax is an NPC" theory. After all, Caine broke the fourth wall in the pilot, knowing full well that the world of The Amazing Digital Circus isn't real and is talking to some unseen viewer as he introduces the Circus Crew.
There's also this bit of official art surrounding Jax's pin:
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Where everyone else is inside their room, Jax is outside as pieces of the circus fall apart around him and all of reality to crash. Certainly lends itself to this idea that Jax knows he's not a real person and that his presence could cause great disruption to this world. And he doesn't care because none of it is real. Might as well have fun and cause chaos in a world that doesn't exist.
And I'll admit, all of this seems like valid claims for how the theory could be true. I saw it all and thought that it surely COULD be possible...but there are some things that stop me from being convinced.
Firstly, Caine breaking the fourth wall in the pilot doesn't really seem like an AI talking to the audience. It looks more like an AI programmed to talk to a player as a game boots up. What we saw in the opening could be more like a morning routine that he has to do at least once a day. Plus, we've yet to see any other NPC talk to the audience like Jax has. He explicitly called out the viewers in episode three, knowing full well he's being watched by SOMEONE. Or, at the very least, acting like he is. What do I mean by that? Well, to explain, I'd like to use one of my favorite fourth wall breakers as an example:
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Deadpool, in most adaptations, knows fully well that he's a fictional character. He'll talk to the readers/viewers, move the camera around, and constantly talk shit to the writers/studio for occasionally screwing him over. It's all in good (Sometimes bloody) fun...but there's a canonical reason for this. It's not like She-Hulk where the fourth wall breaks are a way to tell HER stories HER way. You see, Deadpool...is just fucking insane.
No, really, that's the reason. Due to the trauma of gaining his powers, Deadpool's mind breaks and he's led to believe that he MUST be a fictional character. In comics, he actually gets voices in his head that makes him think he must be some comic book superhero, and the movies implied that something similar happened given how he never broke the fourth wall ONCE before getting his powers. This means him breaking the fourth wall could be seen as a coping mechanism. After all, it's better to believe you're a fictional character designed to entertain some invisible audience than believe that all of the shitty things that happened to you and people close to you is just a cruel joke from the universe.
Sound familiar?
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Going back to the pilot, remember how Pomni's first instinct was to say that the Circus was all just a dream? To her, it's better to live in a lie that everything around her isn't real than to accept the reality that she's stuck in digital purgatory. Jax very well could be going through something similar, but unlike Pomni who seemed to just accept her reality, Jax never did. The trauma of being stuck in the Circus had led to his mind breaking just like Pomni's, Kinger's, and anyone else's. It's just that, for him, he thinks he's coping with it better because he discovered the secret that no one else did: None of this is real.
They're not actually people trapped in some hellscape while an AI unintentionally tortures them. They're all just fictional characters whose tragedies and silly antics are used to entertain viewers. I mean, it's either that or they're real people forever trapped in the circus with the closest thing to death being a full, psychotic break as they give up their sanity because they no longer want to exist in this hell anymore...But that possibly can't be true. Because if that IS true, then Jax has to face that he's a real person stuck in a real, awful situation that he can't joke his way out of. So, it's best to think nothing is real and nothing they do matter. So, might as well have fun with it.
Going back to the pin...
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I don't think this is damning evidence about Jax being an NPC. Actually, it perfectly captures who he is as a character. He knows the circus isn't real. He even thinks HE isn't real. So instead of grappling with that, Jax lets himself believe that if nothing is real than nothing he does matters. He can break things, ruin lives, and assist in torturing the others in the circus. It's what he thinks will make the show more entertaining, even though all he's really entertaining is himself so his mind doesn't break more than it does.
Now, could the same apply if he's an NPC? Well...maybe. Gumigoo definitely proves how far someone could fall when they're told their world is fake. He was about ready to give up on life because he didn't think he had one. If Jax was an NPC, I could see him having a similar break, but going in the far opposite direction where, instead of giving up on life, he chooses to live the way HE wants it. Instead of being some one-off NPC for a lame adventure, he could go off on adventures of his own and ruin the lives of others now that his is thoroughly ruined.
However, Gooseworx makes a good point: "...a lot of people come up with theories based on how unexpected they'd be, and not because they make sense or align with the show's themes."
If Jax is an NPC, it would harm the overall message of the show. That there's meaning to be found in a stagnant life, and you find that meaning with people close to you who make that life worth living. Jax represents a sort of foil to that idea, with his way of coping with the madness being pure chaos and breaking others. It's his coping mechanism, and it works because it shows how human Jax really is. They're ALL human and they have human desires and wants, with the Circus pretty much stripping that away and leaving them...as they are now. They're emotionally broken, their sanity is decreasing, and some of them are losing all sense of self. By making Jax an NPC, it would definitely be surprising, but it would take away from that idea. It no longer makes him a human facing his own tragedy but instead an AI that's just as broken as Gummigoo. More than that, it gives the others an easy out. All the crew has to do is tell Caine that Jax is an NPC and POOF! No more annoyance. So making him someone who HAS to stay with the others and they're forever forced to deal with him also adds more to THEIR tragedy and torture.
Jax being an NPC is an interesting theory, but I don't think it's one that SHOULD be true. To me, it's more fascinating watching Jax treat the world around him as meaningless knowing he's a human instead of a rogue NPC breaking everything. And Gooseworx made it clear how they feel about it. Now, could it potentially be a mislead to get fans off the trail? Genuinely...I don't think so. That sounded very "I don't like this idea so it's not gonna happen" type of response. Still, we won't know until the show wraps up. Anything can happen, but don't get your hopes up if a character who does bad things to people that don't deserve it is more human than you think.
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hazelira · 2 months ago
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Part 2 of little rebel
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
Ni-ki had never been needed like this before. Not in a way that felt real.
Sure, people relied on him—on his presence, his sharp words, the silent way he held up walls so others wouldn’t have to. But this?
This was different.
His son was curled against his chest, impossibly tiny, impossibly warm. It was stupid how much he felt—like something in his ribcage had cracked open to make space for this little person.
The baby had settled comfortably against him, trusting, safe. Ni-ki wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“Guess you’re kinda stuck with me, huh?” he muttered, glancing down at his son.
The baby blinked up at him, wide-eyed, like he actually understood. Then, just as quickly, his face scrunched up. His tiny hands balled into fists against Ni-ki’s hoodie, and—
“Oh, no,” Ni-ki whispered, panic creeping into his voice. “Oh, no, no—hey, little guy, let’s not do this—”
Too late.
A wail. Not just any cry, but the kind that punched straight into Ni-ki’s chest.
His entire body tensed. “Shit.”
From the other room, he could hear the shower still running. You weren’t here to save him. It was just him and this tiny, furious creature in his arms.
“Uh—what do you want?” Ni-ki asked, desperation lacing his tone. “Do babies just cry for fun? Are you mad at me? Is it my face?”
More crying. Louder.
Ni-ki paled.
Then, suddenly—realization struck.
Food.
He scrambled to his feet, cradling his son awkwardly as he went to the kitchen. The bottle you had prepared earlier was in the fridge and had already been measured out. Ni-ki grabbed it, hand slightly shaking, and warmed it the way you showed him—testing a few drops on his wrist like you always did.
When it seemed okay, he carefully sat on the couch, adjusting the baby against his arm.
The crying softened to minor hiccups, big eyes blinking up at him.
“Hey,” Ni-ki murmured. “Okay, little rebel, let’s see if I can do this right.”
His son squirmed, still grumpy.
With cautious hands, Ni-ki lifted the bottle to his baby’s lips. He expected a fight—another glare (could babies glare?), another cry, but instead, his son latched on immediately, suckling with the tiniest, neediest little noises.
Ni-ki froze.
His breath caught in his throat.
The world went quiet.
This little human, this fragile thing, depended on and trusted him completely.
Ni-ki swallowed hard, staring down at his son in something close to disbelief. His tiny hands curled against Ni-ki’s hoodie, grasping at nothing. His little nose scrunched up with every sip, lashes fluttering as he drank.
Something in Ni-ki’s chest ached.
He hadn’t even realized how tightly he had been holding himself—how terrified he was of messing up, of being the wrong kind of father.
But right now, in this moment?
His son didn’t care about any of that.
He just needed him.
“… You don’t hate me, huh?” Ni-ki murmured, voice quieter now.
His son didn’t answer, too busy drinking, but one tiny hand reached out, barely grasping Ni-ki’s finger.
Ni-ki’s breath hitched.
For the first time in his life, he felt enough.
Ni-ki wasn’t sure how long he sat there, holding the bottle steady, watching his son drink like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It was such a small thing—something millions of parents had done before him—but to Ni-ki, it felt huge. The world had shifted slightly on its axis, pulling him into something softer, terrifyingly real.
His son’s tiny fingers were still curled around his own, impossibly small compared to his calloused hands. Ni-ki swallowed hard, his throat tight.
“You’re gonna be a handful, huh?” he murmured, watching his baby’s eyelids flutter, his tiny mouth working at the bottle. “Like, I can already tell you’re gonna give me hell one day.”
A deep sigh left his son’s lips as he continued drinking, his little body sinking further into Ni-ki’s warmth.
Ni-ki let out a chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re not scared of me. Guess I should’ve figured.”
Silence stretched between them—not the uncomfortable kind Ni-ki was used to, but something peaceful. The room was dim, with just the soft hum of the fridge in the background and the faint sound of water running in the bathroom where you were showering.
For once, Ni-ki didn’t feel the urge to move, to run.
He just stayed.
The bottle was almost empty now, his son’s suckling slowing down until he finally released it with a tiny sigh. Ni-ki blinked down at him, startled by how much he felt at that moment.
The baby’s round, drowsy eyes peered up at him, his little lips still puckered like he wasn’t sure if he was done eating yet.
Ni-ki hesitated. “… What do I do now?”
He had been so focused on getting through this part that he hadn’t even thought about what came next.
And then—his son scrunched his face.
Ni-ki panicked. “Oh—wait—what’s—”
A tiny burp.
Then another.
Ni-ki stared.
“… Did you just burp on me?”
The baby yawned, unbothered, eyes already drifting shut.
Ni-ki let out a disbelieving laugh. “Wow. Not even a little bit of shame, huh?”
He had no idea what to do next, but instinct took over. He carefully shifted his son against his chest, supporting his head like you had taught him, and patted his tiny back.
Another burp. A sleepy whimper.
Then, just like that—his son melted into him.
Ni-ki went still.
The baby was so warm, his tiny breaths fanning against Ni-ki’s collarbone. He curled into him naturally, like this was where he was meant to be.
Ni-ki sucked in a shaky breath.
This little thing—the one who had wailed like the world was ending just minutes ago—was utterly at peace in his arms.
“… Guess I’m not so bad, huh?” he whispered, barely above a breath.
No response. Just soft breathing, steady and warm.
Ni-ki pressed his lips into a thin line, staring at the baby in his arms.
He had spent his whole life convinced he was too rough, too broken, too much of something that people would eventually walk away from.
But right now—his son wasn’t walking away.
He was sleeping on him.
Trusting him completely.
Ni-ki swallowed his throat tight.
And he didn't feel like running for the first time in a long time—maybe for the first time ever.
He just held his son closer.
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