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librababe99 · 16 days

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Healing Touch

cw: MDNI, 18+, Smut, Fluff, Young!Charles Xavier, Fem!Reader word count: 2.7K Summary: In the mid-1970s, Charles Xavier is a man haunted by loss and burdened by the weight of his own mind. When you, a fellow mutant, offer him not only companionship but a love he never expected, the walls he has built around his heart begin to crumble.

A/N: Since I wrote for Erik I felt that writing for Charles balances everything out <3 Forgive me if mentioning the cuban missile crisis at the beginning throws off the timeline in anyway, we don't have to jump into technicalities...lol! Anyways, please feel free to comment, reblog or like this <3 happy reading!

(Marvel Masterlist)

The 1970s had a way of weaving magic into the air—rife with a rebellious freedom, spinning off the back of a decade of upheaval. Amidst the intoxicating haze of civil rights movements, psychedelic music, and ever-changing fashion, there was something magnetic about this era, as if the world were in the throes of rediscovering itself. And in that same time, tucked away in the heart of Westchester County, Charles Xavier was a man rediscovering himself too—one who had seen the world both at its brightest and at its darkest.

The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning had become more than just a school. With the Cuban Missile Crisis a decade behind them and the threat of mutants still very much real, Charles had been pulled into a storm that had rocked him to his core. The man who had once been so full of optimism and hope had become someone else—someone hardened by loss, crippled both physically and emotionally. He had found himself retreating from the world, isolating behind the walls of his mansion, letting the noise of the outside world fade into a dull, muted hum.

But then there was you.

You had come into Charles’s life by chance, a fellow mutant with abilities that he couldn’t help but be drawn to. He had noticed you first because of your power—something akin to empathy, the ability to feel and manipulate the emotions of others. It was subtle, nothing explosive like fire or ice, but it was potent in its own right. In some ways, Charles found it even more fascinating, for it spoke to the heart of what he had always believed—that mutants were more than just their powers; they were people with gifts, capable of great good or terrible destruction depending on how they wielded them.

But it wasn’t just your abilities that caught his attention. There was something about you that stirred something long-buried inside him. You were strong, yes, but kind too—empathetic not just because of your powers but because of who you were at your core. And in a world where Charles had grown tired of fighting, tired of losing, you had become a beacon of warmth in the cold. Your presence began to thaw the ice he had encased himself in, and though he resisted it at first, that pull between you was undeniable.

It was a Friday night, and the mansion was quiet, the students having all gone off for the weekend. The air outside was thick with the scent of rain, the clouds heavy and swollen, but inside, there was a warmth that clung to the air. You had found Charles in his study, a glass of scotch in hand, seated behind the large oak desk that had become almost a throne for him. He was disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, hair slightly out of place in a way that made him seem more human, less like the esteemed Professor Xavier he had always tried to be.

You knocked softly on the doorframe, leaning against it with a playful smile. "You look like you could use a break."

Charles glanced up from his drink, his eyes settling on you in that way that always sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes—those sharp, piercing blue eyes—were tired, but they softened when they met yours. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "A break from what, exactly?"

You shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward him. "From thinking. From brooding. From being Charles Xavier, mutant extraordinaire." You reached his desk and perched yourself on the edge of it, your knee brushing his thigh as you did so. His eyes flickered down to the point of contact, and you saw the briefest hitch in his breath.

“I don’t brood,” he replied, though the smile that followed betrayed his words.

“Oh, you most certainly do.” You leaned forward, teasingly close, just enough that he could feel your presence in the air between you. “You sit in this big, empty mansion, all alone, with your thoughts and your scotch, and you brood.”

Charles chuckled softly, though there was something in the sound that was darker, more resigned. “Maybe I do.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his eyes distant for a moment. “There’s a lot to think about these days.”

You watched him for a moment, your gaze softening. Charles had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, even before the accident that had left him in a wheelchair. But now, that weight seemed heavier, as though the world had taken too much from him.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his wrist, and the moment you touched him, you could feel it—a deep, aching sadness, buried beneath layers of composure and strength. It was like touching a wound that had never quite healed.

“I can feel it, you know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles looked up at you, and for a moment, the walls he had built around himself seemed to crumble, leaving behind the man he had tried so hard to hide. “Feel what?” His voice was just as soft, but there was an edge to it, a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see.

You smiled gently, your fingers trailing up his arm, barely grazing his skin. “Everything. The pain, the loss, the weight of all of it. You’re carrying so much, Charles. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he did. “And what if I don’t want you to feel it?”

“Then I won’t,” you whispered, your hand now resting against his chest, right over his heart. “But I want to help you carry it. I want to be there for you.”

Charles’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with something deep inside him, as though he were warring with himself. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand covering yours as it rested on his chest. His touch was warm, gentle, and yet there was a tension in the way he held you, as though he were afraid to let go.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Your heart clenched at his words, and without thinking, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you until your lips were inches from his. “You deserve so much more than you think, Charles.”

And then you kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative, as though you were testing the waters, waiting to see if he would pull away. But he didn’t. Instead, his hand tightened around yours, and you felt him respond, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that surprised you both.

The kiss deepened, the years of longing, pain, and desire pouring into it with a ferocity that neither of you had expected. You could feel the way his body tensed beneath you, the way his breathing quickened as he lost himself in the moment.

Before you knew it, you were climbing into his lap, straddling him as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. Charles groaned against your lips, his hands sliding up your thighs, gripping your hips as though he were afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“Are you sure about this?” he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with desire and hesitation.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your forehead resting against his as you smiled softly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

His response was a low, guttural sound that sent a thrill racing through you, and before you knew it, he was kissing you again, more desperate this time, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and Charles let out a breathless laugh, the sound vibrating against your lips as you finally managed to push the fabric aside, revealing the hard planes of his chest. You ran your hands over his skin, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Charles let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that broke your heart. “You’re the first person who’s ever said that to me.”

You smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his neck. “Then they’re all fools.”

His hands were everywhere, exploring your body as though he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His touch was gentle at first, almost reverent, but there was a fire behind it, a need that he had kept buried for far too long.

When you finally peeled off your shirt, you heard him suck in a breath, his eyes darkening with desire as he took you in. “God, you’re—” His voice broke off, as though he couldn’t quite find the words, but you didn’t need him to.

You kissed him again, your hands sliding down his chest, feeling the way his body responded to you, the way he trembled beneath your touch. You could feel the tension between you building, the air thick with anticipation.

And then, slowly, you began to move against him, your hips grinding against his in a rhythm that had both of you gasping for breath. Charles’s hands gripped your hips, guiding you, matching your movements with a desperate need.

“Please,” he breathed, his voice ragged.

You didn’t need to ask what he wanted. You could feel it, the desire, the longing, the need for release that had been building between you for so long. You reached between your bodies, your fingers making quick work of the zipper of his pants.

When he finally slid into you, the sensation was overwhelming—an electric jolt that sent shockwaves through your entire body. Charles let out a broken gasp, his hands gripping

as he pulled you closer, his body trembling beneath yours. You could feel the tension in him, every muscle wound tight, as if he were barely holding himself together.

You both paused for a moment, the sheer intensity of the connection stealing the breath from your lungs. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this, like every nerve in your body had come alive, attuned to him and only him. Charles's forehead pressed against your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin as you both adjusted, savoring the feeling of being so intimately joined.

“God,” he whispered, almost reverently. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long.”

Your fingers slid up into his hair, cradling his head, and you pressed a soft kiss to the top of it, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his voice. “Then take me, Charles. I’m yours.”

That was all the permission he needed.

With a low, guttural sound, Charles’s grip on your hips tightened, and he began to move beneath you, slow at first, a steady rhythm that made you gasp with every roll of his hips. He filled you so perfectly, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. You matched his pace, rocking against him, savoring the slow burn that built between you, the friction pulling you both closer to the edge with every passing second.

Charles’s hands roamed your body, sliding up your back, tracing the curve of your spine, then slipping lower, his fingers digging into your skin with barely restrained intensity. His lips found your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Charles…” you gasped, your head tilting back as you gave him more access.

His lips parted against your skin, and you could feel the groan that rumbled in his chest. “I can feel you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Every thought, every emotion—it’s overwhelming.”

You leaned back, meeting his gaze. His eyes were heavy-lidded, dark with need, but there was something else there too—something raw, something so deep and primal that it made your heart race.

“Don’t hide from me,” you whispered, your hands cradling his face. “Feel me. All of me.”

Charles’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, as if letting go of the barriers he had so carefully constructed. And then, all at once, it hit you—the full weight of his mind brushing against yours, the flood of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

It wasn’t just desire you felt—though that was certainly there, sharp and electric, searing through your veins. It was everything. His longing, his fear, the deep well of sadness that had haunted him for so long, and underneath it all, a love so profound it left you breathless.

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as the sensation of his mind intertwining with yours sent a jolt of pleasure through you, heightening everything. The room around you seemed to fade, the only thing that existed in that moment was him—his body, his mind, and the way he was utterly consuming you.

Charles groaned, his hips bucking up into you with a sudden intensity that made you cry out. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” he panted, his voice strained, as though he were on the edge of losing control.

You could barely form words, the pleasure building inside you almost unbearable. “Charles, please…”

He understood without needing to ask. His hands slid down to your hips again, guiding you faster now, his movements more urgent, more desperate. You could feel the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter, like a spring wound too far, ready to snap.

And then, with one hard thrust, you shattered.

A wave of ecstasy washed over you, white-hot and all-consuming, leaving you trembling in its wake. You cried out his name, your body arching against his, and you could feel him lose himself in the moment too, his hands gripping you so tightly it almost hurt as he followed you over the edge.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop, the only sound in the room your ragged breaths and the thrum of your racing heartbeat. You slumped against Charles, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you both came down from the high.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, as though afraid to let go. You could still feel the echo of his mind against yours, the connection between you not quite severed, and it brought a sense of intimacy that was unlike anything you had ever known.

After a long moment, Charles broke the silence, his voice soft and hoarse. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Neither did I.”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were still dark, but there was a softness to them now, a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You frowned slightly. “For what?”

“For reminding me what it’s like to feel something other than pain.” His voice was filled with a quiet reverence, as though he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore, Charles. I’m here.”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “I know.”

You shifted slightly, still straddling his lap, and Charles let out a soft groan. The movement stirred something in you both, a flicker of desire reigniting as your bodies remained entwined.

“You know,” you said playfully, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, “we’ve got the whole mansion to ourselves tonight.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into something more mischievous. “Is that so?”

You leaned in, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Maybe we should take advantage of that.”

His breath hitched, and you felt his hands tighten on your hips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “Then I’ll make it a night you won’t forget.”

With that, you began to move again, slow and teasing, savoring every moment of the night ahead.

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dragons-and-handcuffs · 2 months

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Aegon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Aegon is completely in love with you but winning you over is not easy. But Aegon won't give up. Modern AU

Life at the Citadel University was as predictable as the seasons—at least for you. You were the Stark everyone expected you to be: diligent, focused, and entirely uninterested in the campus drama that seemed to follow certain students like a shadow. Chief among them was Aegon Targaryen, the spoiled rich kid who treated the university like his personal playground. Popular, charming, and utterly insufferable, Aegon was the kind of guy who had everything handed to him on a silver platter—and now, apparently, he wanted you.

You were in the middle of your usual routine—heading to class with a stack of books under your arm—when you first encountered Aegon in full pursuit mode. He was leaning against a tree just outside the lecture hall, looking like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. You knew better than to get involved in whatever scheme he had cooked up, but fate, or rather, Aegon’s persistence, had other plans.

"Y/N Stark," he drawled, flashing that annoyingly perfect smile of his. "I’ve been looking for you."

You didn’t even break your stride. "Aegon," you acknowledged with a curt nod, hoping he’d get the hint and leave you alone.

"How about dinner tonight?" he continued, falling into step beside you as if you’d agreed to this little walk. "I know a place with the best—"

"No," you cut him off without a second thought.

Aegon blinked, clearly not used to rejection. "No? Are you sure? Because—"

"Positive," you said, quickening your pace. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do."

Aegon stared after you, dumbfounded, as you disappeared into the lecture hall. For a moment, you thought that might be the end of it. But you’d underestimated the sheer force of will that was Aegon Targaryen.

Later that day, you retreated to your favorite corner of the library, hoping for some peace and quiet. The stacks were a sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself in your studies without distraction. But just as you settled in with a particularly dense tome on Northern history, there he was again.

"Y/N!" Aegon’s voice echoed through the quiet library, and you nearly jumped out of your seat. He strolled over to your table, completely oblivious to the glares from other students. "I knew I’d find you here."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Aegon, what do you want now?"

He plopped down in the chair across from you, his grin infuriatingly wide. "Just wanted to spend some quality time with my favorite Stark."

"You don’t even know any other Starks," you muttered, returning your attention to your book.

Aegon leaned in closer, clearly not taking the hint. "I know the most important one. So, how about we ditch this place and—"

"Aegon Targaryen!" The sharp voice of the librarian cut through the air like a knife. She appeared out of nowhere, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Out. Now."

Aegon looked genuinely surprised, as if he hadn’t considered that his antics might have consequences. "What? I wasn’t even being that loud!"

"Out!" the librarian repeated, pointing towards the exit.

With a dramatic sigh, Aegon stood up, but not before throwing you a wink. "I’ll see you around, Y/N."

You groaned as he left, wondering how long this was going to last.

The answer came sooner than expected.

The next morning, you were seated in a large lecture hall, ready for another hour of academic bliss. The professor was mid-sentence when the door to the classroom burst open, and in strolled Aegon, as if he owned the place.

The entire room fell silent, every eye turning to watch as he made his way down the aisle, heading straight for you. The professor paused, clearly irritated by the interruption, but Aegon paid him no mind.

"Y/N Stark!" Aegon’s voice rang out, full of theatrical flair. "I can’t go on like this. I’m in love with you!"

Your heart sank as every head in the room swiveled in your direction. Aegon wasn’t done yet.

"I’ve been trying to play it cool," he continued, ignoring the snickers and whispers that erupted around him, "but I can’t keep pretending. You’re the one, Y/N. You’re smart, beautiful, and you make my heart race like nothing else."

The professor cleared his throat, his patience clearly running thin. "Mr. Targaryen, this is a classroom, not a stage. Kindly leave before I have you removed."

But Aegon was undeterred. "Not until Y/N agrees to go on a date with me," he declared, dropping to one knee in the middle of the aisle. "Come on, Y/N. Just one date. I promise you won’t regret it."

You wanted to disappear into the floor. "Aegon, get up," you hissed, utterly mortified.

"Not until you say yes," he replied stubbornly, looking up at you with those maddeningly sincere eyes.

The class erupted into laughter, the professor sighed, and you could feel your face turning red. Finally, to your immense relief, the professor gestured towards the door. "Mr. Targaryen, out."

Aegon shot you one last pleading look before finally standing up and exiting the room, much to the amusement of your classmates.

You spent the rest of the lecture trying to focus, but your mind was still reeling from Aegon’s ridiculous display. By the time you returned to your dorm that evening, all you wanted was some peace and quiet. But when you opened the door, you were met with a sight that made your jaw drop.

Your room was filled—absolutely filled—with rare dusk blue roses. They were everywhere, covering every surface, their delicate petals casting a soft glow in the dim light. There was no mistaking the signature touch of a Targaryen. On your bed was a single note, written in Aegon’s unmistakable scrawl: "For my Winter Rose."

You groaned, half-amused, half-exasperated. How could someone be so impossibly stubborn?

The next morning, you walked into your first class, hoping for some normalcy. But as you took your usual seat, you noticed something that made you do a double-take. Sitting right next to you, with a triumphant grin on his face, was Aegon.

The entire room went silent. Even the professor seemed momentarily stunned, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

"Aegon," you said slowly, "what are you doing here?"

"Attending class," he replied cheerfully, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And just so you know, we’re going on a date by the end of the month. Though, I’m really aiming for the end of the week."

You stared at him, utterly baffled. "You’ve never attended a class in your life."

"First time for everything," he said, still grinning. "Besides, I’ve been told by my mother that I need to know you better and know what you like and don't like before I take you out on a date. And what better way to do that than by sitting next to you?"

The professor finally found his voice. "Mr. Targaryen," he said, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of authority, "I expect you to remain quiet and focused during this lecture."

"Of course, professor," Aegon replied with a seriousness that was completely at odds with his usual demeanor.

As the lecture began, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Aegon, who was actually—shockingly—taking notes. You couldn’t tell if he was actually understanding anything, but the effort was there, and it was both baffling and amusing.

When the class ended, Aegon turned to you with that same determined look. "So, what do you say? End of the week?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at your lips. "We’ll see, Aegon. We’ll see."

He grinned, clearly taking that as a victory, and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to Aegon Targaryen than met the eye.

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libraryofgage · 3 months

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Addams Family B-Side (6)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Hi it's been a fucking minute since I updated this one orz thank you so much for your patience, y'all

Anyway, this fic was line-jumped, and it's one of two jumps I received on kofi. If you'd like to learn more about line-jumping your favorite series, you can read this post

There are three memes at the end for you <3

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)

---

The first time Steve got expelled, his father picked him up from school while his mother stayed to chat with the principal. He was twelve at the time, confused about what he'd done wrong, and feeling validated by his father's ecstatic praise of his initiative.

He'd wound up in Grandmama's kitchen, sitting cross-legged on the island while Wednesday added spider legs to a mixing bowl. Fester had gone off the find Gomez after telling Wednesday to keep an eye on Steve. She'd immediately turned away after Fester left the room.

"So," she said, idly stirring, "you've been expelled. What for?"

"I brought rattlesnakes to class."

"Why?"

"We were learning about snakes. I thought the teacher would appreciate live examples."

"How many?"

"Twenty seven. One for each student."

"Did they bite anyone?"

"No," Steve said, frowning and not bothering to conceal his disappointment at the fact.

"That's a shame."

Steve nodded, watching Wednesday for a few minutes before asking, "What are you making?"

"A cake for Joel."

"Why?"

"He insists on celebrating our anniversary."

"What kind is it?"

"Cinnamon with walnuts."

Steve thought for a moment, trying to figure out why that specific combination sounded familiar. Finally, he said, "I thought Joel was allergic to those."

"He is allergic to many things," Wednesday said, looking over her shoulder to smirk at Steve. "But especially cinnamon and walnuts."

"How come you're making it then?"

"To make sure he remembers how breathless I made him when we first met."

Steve thought that might be one of the most romantic things he's ever heard. He carefully filed the idea away in the back of his mind, hoping he'd one day find someone with an allergy severe enough to use it.

-------------------------

Eddie can't stop looking at Steve's parents, his gaze moving between the two as he tries to figure out how the fuck they ended up together. He feels like someone is about to jump out and tell him he's on a prank show. What else could describe the sheer polar opposite natures of Steve's parents?

Debbie looks exactly like the kind of woman who'd live in a Barbie Dream House: blonde, perfect makeup, pastel dress, the refined air that just hovers around her. Fester, however, looks like he belongs next door. Eddie had noticed how pale he was the first time they met, but he's positively corpse-like now that Steve and Debbie are around for comparison.

He'd almost believe Steve wasn't their child if not for the fact that Eddie can see every way he is. Steve might look like Debbie on the outside, but he's undoubtedly an Addams on the inside. He has Debbie's fashion sense and air of elegance. his eyes get the same crazed light sometimes that Fester's do when Debbie speaks, and the words they speak are similar.

"Eddie," Debbie says, snapping him out of his thoughts. At some point, he'd started staring at Steve, and he feels his cheeks flush at getting caught. "Steve tells me you play guitar. Did you recently learn?"

Oh. Eddie feels his shoulders relax some at the familiar topic. "My mom taught me when I was younger. She used to play for me whenever I had nightmares."

"She doesn't play for you anymore?" Debbie asks, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork.

"Oh, uh, she died a few years ago," Eddie says, smiling apologetically for such a downer of a topic. "Cancer, you know."

"That must have been excruciating," Steve says, a soft sigh accompanying his words, and Eddie isn't sure if he's sympathetic or jealous.

Debbie nods as she inspects her chicken closely before putting it in her mouth, her eyes narrowing slightly as she chews. "I said no poisoning the food, dear," she says, looking at Fester with a somewhat strained smile.

"Aww, it's just a nightshade reduction, Mother. We didn't even put any on Eddie's plate," Steve says.

Now that Eddie is actually paying attention, he realizes the dark sauce drizzled across their chicken is missing from his own. "Why don't I have any?" he asks, figuring it can't really be a nightshade sauce.

"You haven't worked your way up to nightshade yet," Fester explains, his eyes lighting up as he adds, "But don't worry! We're getting you started with just a dash of chalk in your rice."

Eddie blinks, glancing down at the half-eaten rice on his plate. He didn't notice anything weird about it, so maybe they're joking. But then he hears Debbie's put-upon sigh. "Fester, dear?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I'd make you sleep in the doghouse, but you'd just enjoy it."

"Eddie doesn't mind, I'm sure," Steve says, looking at Eddie with a smile that makes his heart speed up and his palms sweat. "It's okay if you do, though. Just be honest."

"I don't mind," Eddie replies, wondering where the words come from. If he'd been anywhere else, with anyone else, he'd definitely be losing his mind over a light poisoning. Somehow, though, he can't bring himself to be that upset about it. Maybe, if he tries hard enough, he'll even build enough of an immunity to kiss Steve when he's wearing that raspberry lip gloss.

The blinding smile he gets in return eases any lingering doubts he might have. Steve leans close enough for their shoulders to brush, Eddie's skin tingling through the fabric of his sleeve. "We Addams are experts at acclimating people to poisons. You'll be enjoying nightshade in no time," he says, his voice light and reassuring like Eddie was somehow impatient.

And then, without thinking, Eddie's eyes glance down at Steve's lips. They have a suspicious sheen to them, and Eddie's only half-certain he's not imagining the artificial raspberry scent. "What, uh, what about raspberries?" he asks, the words tumbling out before he can stop them.

If anything, Steve's smile just gets wider. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he replies, his tongue briefly swiping across his bottom lip.

Eddie looks away and grabs his glass, gulping down half the water inside before he says anything monumentally stupid in front of Steve's parents.

"Steve, stop torturing Eddie. You know that's dessert conversation," Debbie says, her voice light and breezy.

Steve sighs and pulls away. "Sorry," he says, not looking the least bit apologetic at all. In fact, he even glances at Eddie again and smiles, eyebrows raised slightly, and Eddie thinks he's about to die of thirst.

"Eddie," Fester says, mercifully giving him a reason to look away from Steve and try to gain some semblance of chill. "What are your interests?" Fester glances at Debbie, practically preening when she smiles and offers him a subtle, approving nod.

"Well, uh, music. I like heavy metal and play in a band. Dungeons and Dragons, too. I play that with my friends."

"Dungeons, you say?" Fester asks, suddenly looking more invested in the conversation. "What's your favorite kind? I'm partial to the French Revolution era dungeons myself."

"You just like the guillotines, Father," Steve says.

"Now that's an instrument of death. Nothing inspires fear like the glint of the blade in the sun, don't you think, Pumpkin?"

"Yes, dear, but you know I'm partial to electric chairs myself."

Steve leans closer again and says, "Mother nearly killed Father's family with electric chairs, you know."

"A splendid attempt it was," Fester adds, looking over with a bright smile.

Eddie glances between all of them, taking in their expressions and trying to figure out if they're being serious. He watches Debbie drag a carrot through dark sauce on her plate; he briefly looks into Fester's eyes and sees the manic joy lying in them; his heart speeds up at Steve's soft and contented smile. Eddie then glances around the dining room. He notes the shotgun placed on the wall with a little plaque beneath that reads "Attempt 12" in flourishing cursive. He looks at the window and sees the black, molded wood of the house next door. He thinks of Nox the spider and Kas the taxidermy rat and the ornate dagger and everything else he's found in his locker.

And he realizes something.

They're serious. They're all completely serious about everything. Steve and Fester weren't joking that first time he came over and they talked about the oven being big enough to fit him and a roast. Steve really has fought all of his siblings and was gifted a trident at his bar mitzvah. Pubert doesn't protect his kidneys.

Okay that last one maybe isn't as important, but it's one Eddie savors nonetheless.

He has two options here. One, he gets the hell out of dodge, makes some strained excuse to leave after dinner and avoids Steve in the hallways and hopes he doesn't wake up buried alive. Two, he embraces it, starts eating a little chalk with every meal, and lets Steve introduce him to whatever freaky shit will earn him another blinding smile.

"So, how did you two meet?" Eddie asks, looking at Fester and Debbie with a smile as he shovels more rice onto his fork.

-------------------------

"I approve."

Steve blinks, and then his mother's words process, and he stands a little straighter. "That's good. Though, I would've been happy to follow in Romeo and Juliet's footsteps if you hadn't."

"You wouldn't even need poison," Fester says, his voice ringing from the kitchen as Steve helps his mother gather up dessert plates. "Just wear the raspberry stuff."

"No star-crossed suicides for you, mister," Debbie says, playfully tapping her finger against Steve's forehead. "Anyway, he's a very nice young man, and he adapted rather quick, don't you think?"

"He thought it was a joke before, but he doesn't think that now. And he didn't run away screaming!"

"Not that you would've minded, I suspect."

"Well, no," Steve agrees, flashing a grin as he puts the plates on the counter next to his father. He then pulls down Tupperware, ready to pack up the leftover chicken and rice.

"He seems like a tough nut to crack, but he's nearly there," Debbie says, leaning against the island with a thoughtful look. "I mean, he seemed ready to do whatever you said at the dinner table."

"Then why hasn't he done anything? Am I being too obvious? Should I play hot and cold?"

"No, I don't think that would work here."

"Just tell him," Fester suddenly says, looking at Steve as he washes a plate. "Wouldn't that be best?"

"Would it?" Steve asks.

Before Debbie can do more than snort derisively, Fester nods. "Just think about it, son. You tell him, but leave it all up to Eddie after that. He'll torture himself trying to build up the courage to even hold your hand, especially if you catch him when he's midway."

Steve can't help the way he lights up at the thought. "That's a great idea! Thanks, Father. I'm gonna go plan my confession right now," he says, disappearing from the kitchen not a moment later.

"When did you get so good at this?" Debbie asks, a little pride tinging her words. When Fester lights up, she decides to reward him that night with an extra ten minutes of cuddling before bed.

----------

Tag List (there's no more room on the list, so please follow the addams family b-side tag to see updates!)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

@jinx-nanami, @solene1324, @nailbatwielder, @y4r3luv, @happylittletrees3, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @itcanbepalped,

And now, some memes:

#steddie #addams family steddie #addams family b-side #steve harrington #eddie munson #wednesday addams #fester addams #debbie jellinsky #steve deserves good parents actually #steddie fic #steddie fluff #my writing #addams family crossover

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wildernessuntothemselves · 11 months

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 6

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.2k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, loss of virginity, PIV sex, fingering, brief pussy licking, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

Despite what Beomgyu said, he and Haeun seem to have become an item, just as you and Yeonjun are now. They’re always together, as you are with Yeonjun, and it’s like you and Beomgyu don’t even know each other anymore. He’s always hanging out with her and you’re always hanging out with Yeonjun. You hardly see Beomgyu anymore, which makes it weird the way he’s sitting on your bed, watching you get ready just like old times.

You remember how you and he used to play a game sometimes as you got ready where you’d pick out various outfits and try them out for Beomgyu, giving him a mini-fashion show that he would narrate as if it was a football game, going on about how groundbreaking the designs are and how pretty the model (you) looks.

He was your main supporter in going into fashion as a major. You don’t think you would’ve had the courage to do it without him. He always believed in you and stood by you even when your parents were upset at you for choosing a career with such an uncertain future. He told you that if one of you succeeds, you’ll just pull the other up too. If his music career takes off, he’ll contract you to be the creative director for the band and if your fashion career takes off, you’ll have to hire him as your model. And if you both fail…well you’ll be strippers together.

You laugh as you remember your promise and turn back towards Beomgyu, who was sitting on your bed watching you. “Hey, remember our backup plan? That we’ll make a two-man stripper show to repay our student debt?”

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. Instead he just hums, focusing on your dress.

“What? You don’t like it?” You ask, insecure. You’re not used to wearing something this extravagant but Yeonjun is taking you to a photography exhibition tonight and he told you it’s gonna be really fancy.

You’re not sure if being stressed out and sweating as you try not to get judged by all those more talented and influential people is the best idea for a date but Yeonjun insisted that if you wanted to get into fashion, you have to start mingling.

You didn’t even have a proper dress. You had to wear something you made for a fallen goddess shoot you had in mind, but by the look Beomgyu is giving you, it’s probably trash.

"Does it matter?" He asks and you frown. "What do you mean?"

"It means that with what you're wearing, I don't even know why you’re bothering going on a date when you can just invite him over and let him fuck you now, skip the formalities."

"You're unbelievable." You spit out, trying to hide the dread filling your chest and making you struggle to breathe. Yes, the dress was a bit more revealing than you’re used to, but it’s an art event, people wear this stuff there all the time.

“Where did you even get this dress?” He asks in distaste and you hold your head up high. “I made it.”

That makes him back down, his eyes visibly softening as regret shows on his face. “Oh… It’s pretty.”

You snort in disbelief. "Why are you even here, Beomgyu?"

He shrugs. "Just watching this shitshow go down."

“Right.” You mutter bitterly, "I guess it was too much to expect you to act like a friend."

"I am your friend.” He says as if declaring it is enough to make it true. “I'm your best friend."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

He jumps off the bed when he hears that, quickly getting in front of you. "What does that mean?”

"Nothing. I'm going to be late." You try to get past him but he won’t let you. "No. What do you mean by that? You said I'd never lose you."

"Yeah, that was before you transformed into this asshole who accuses me of trying to sabotage his career and calling me a slut for daring to date."

He moves back, stunned at your words, and you almost laugh. Is he really surprised? "I'm just… working through some stuff."

"Stuff? That's your excuse?" You ask incredulously and he looks away. Is “stuff” worth what he’s done to your friendship?

"It's just hard for me to see you with him." He finally admits and you sigh. Not this again. "Beomgyu, I know you’re worried about your band, but Yeonjun and I are adults, even if we break up, that doesn't mean–"

"It's not about that." He shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Then what is it?" You ask, frustrated. Frankly, you’re at your rope’s end with his weird behavior.

"You're too good for him."

"What?” You reel back. Now, this is new. “Is it because he sleeps around? Because we’ve talked about it and he insisted that just because he's had many casual relationships before doesn't mean he's gonna cheat on me. We've been together for a while now and he has been nothing but wonderful to me."

He really has. You don't know what's wrong with you. Why can't you love him the way you love your asshole best friend? Maybe it will come with time? You've known Beomgyu for years and your love for him didn't develop overnight. Maybe you just need to give your relationship with Yeonjun more time.

You hope it doesn't take years to get over Beomgyu and fall in love with Yeonjun though.

"It's not that. It's not him. You're too good for everyone."

"Beomgyu…" You walk towards him and hold his hands. "I know you're not used to me going out with guys because, well, I've kind of lead a fairly loser-ish life--you know, you've been there– and maybe me and Yeonjun won't end up working out and maybe I'll end up hurt but I can't just be virginal forever. I have to try to find someone for me."

"But you have someone." He pulls you towards him, resting his forehead against yours as he plays with your hands. "Me."

That hurt more than any mean thing he has ever said to you and he doesn't even mean to hurt you. He has been terrible to you all this time because he thinks you deserve more? Because he wants things to stay the way they are? That is fucking absurd and so infuriating. Why couldn't he have just told you that instead of acting like an ass? Not wanting to lose you doesn’t mean he gets to order you around. Being worried about you doesn't give him the right to treat you like a stupid slut.

"Don't be stupid." You say harshly, making him flinch. You try again, softer this time, not letting the anger and pain through as much. "I know I have you but I need more."

"More what? Why can't things just stay the way they are? We have fun together, right? I make you laugh. I'm there for you when you're down. We've even messed around. What can he give you that I can't?"

Love. You need love and even though Beomgyu loves you very much, it's not in the way you need.

"Beomgyu, you’re being very childish about this. We're not twelve anymore. I know you’re scared that we'll drift apart if I find someone but the only reason we’ve been drifting apart is because of your behavior. I can't keep coddling you. You may not like it because it’s only been you and I until now, but it's time for me to find an actual boyfriend instead of this–this joke I have with you."

Maybe you’re being too harsh on him but you’re honestly too hurt to sugarcoat it anymore. And you also need to hear it yourself. What you have with Beomgyu isn't real and you need to face the fact that it will never be. "I need someone to actually love and to hold and to be my other half. Us messing around together is just that, messing around, nothing more. I need something real. You do too. I mean you're finally with the woman you've been chasing after for years. Do you really wanna throw that away just because you're scared?"

Still, seeing the way he becomes quiet after your outburst, looking away from you and not responding… maybe you could’ve been nicer about it.

“Beomgyu…” You sigh, reaching out to turn his face towards you but he pushes your hand away, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Go. You’re late for your date." He grits out and you look at the time. Crap. You are!

You look at him again, seeing the tension in his jaw and shoulders, something that resembles pain etched on his features. Should you stay and work this out for him or go on your date? If you stay, you’d be choosing him yet again. If you stay then you’ll just teach him that all he needs to do is act out and you’ll cave and do what he wants. No, you need to make some changes. That’s what you promised Yeonjun when you and him decided to become exclusive. Beomgyu can’t come first anymore.

"I have to go. Let’s talk about this later." You step back, ignoring the hurt in his eyes as you grab your bag and head for the door.

____________________

When Yeonjun said the place was fancy, he wasn’t kidding. You’re blown away right now, surrounded by people you’ve only known about through magazine spreads and hours of admiration through the internet. You can’t believe you’re here in the same room with such talented artists and creators.

You feast your eyes on the multiple displays from different photographers and artists, analyzing their technique, their vision, and their subject, and you’re just in awe. This is exactly where you should be, mingling with the others in your field, making connections, building a network… except you haven’t really gotten the hang of socializing yet. You’re too nervous to talk to anyone. You just stand silently next to Yeonjun as he charms his way through the crowd, joking there, throwing a compliment here or purring a small flirty line that has the other party blushing.

He can turn it on for anyone. He’s so good you can’t help wondering where his charming nature ends and his actual affection for you begins. How do you know he’s not just charming you the same way he charms everyone else?

“Do you like it?” Yeonjun asks, and you snap out of your thoughts. You look around to see that everyone around you has left and you’re standing alone with him. “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at this particular shot for a long time. Do you like it?” He laughs and you shake your head. “Not really.”

“Really? Why not? It’s well shot, the composition is good, the set design is top-notch and the clothes really complement the atmosphere.”

“That’s all true.” You agree, and he laughs–his sweet tinkering laugh that makes you smile. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like the model. It’s obvious the photographer was going for a femme fatale look but she doesn’t deliver. She’s supposed to have the face of an angel but the aura of the devil. She has to convey the monster within but she’s so afraid of not looking pretty, it just comes across as if she’s putting on an act rather than losing herself in the madness of it.”

“You really don’t like her, huh?” He laughs, and you furrow your eyebrows. “Well, it’s not really her fault so much as it’s the fault of the photographer. They should be directing the model on how to act and correcting them when they’re doing something wrong. This model is obviously gorgeous and she has the potential in her to look fierce, but with a weak direction like this, all you get is what basically amounts to a child dressing in her mother’s clothes.”

You hear someone huff behind you and turn around to see a very disgruntled man. “And to whom do I owe this very shrewd commentary on my work?”

Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.

“I–I am… I’m nobody.” You squeak, wishing the monster from the next picture over would jump out of the frame and swallow you whole right now.

“That’s right, you are nobody.” The man haughtily agrees.

“Hey, man, she’s just giving her opinion.” Yeonjun attempts to interject but the man pays him no mind. “I am an award winning photographer. I don’t take the juvenile half-baked opinions of nobodies. Come back when you’ve actually achieved something that could hold a candle to what I’ve done over my career. Oh no wait, you’ll never amount to anything if these are the opinions your artistically challenged brain comes up with.”

“Hey–Yeonjun protests, a scene starting to form around you, but you quickly cut it short–the humiliation already too much for you to handle.

“I’m sorry.” You tear up, quickly turning and running away.

Through your tears, you can see the shocked and confused looks of the other patrons so you quickly keep your gaze to the ground until you’re out of the gallery and near Yeonjun’s car in the quiet parking lot where no one can see you cry.

No one except Yeonjun who followed closely after you. “Wait up! Baby–Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You babble, tears streaming down your face. “You shouldn’t have taken me to such a nice place. I didn’t deserve it.”

Why the hell did you even think you would ever make it in such a business. The best you’d be able to achieve is etsy store designs and wedding photographs. You’ve just messed up your first chance at making connections AND you fucked up your date with Yeonjun. You’re such a screw up.

“Woah, calm down. You didn’t do any of those things.” He holds you in his arms and you bury your face in his shirt, seeking comfort and a place to hide from him. “Don’t lie. I ruined everything.”

Maybe now he’ll even realize that you’re not as cool as he thought you were. That you’re not actually this artistic person he probably imagined you as and lose interest. He’d know you’re a fraud and dump you. Then you’d be left with no Beomgyu and no boyfriend. Just your loser self.

“You didn’t. But you crying might ruin my shirt.”

You gasp, pulling away and trying to step back but he holds you by the arms, giving you a mischievous grin. “I’m kidding. You can soak me through with tears and snot all you want.”

“You’re an asshole.” You smack his chest, pouting.

“Maybe. But I got you to stop crying.” He says and you frown. He actually did. While you might’ve preferred a more sweet approach to getting you to stop crying, this still worked.

You sigh, little cries bubbling up in your chest still. “I still am sorry. You wanted to do something nice for me and I ruined it with my big mouth.”

“No, you didn’t.” He retorts, wiping away the few stray tears still falling. “I loved hearing everything you had to say. I thought you made some really good points. He was just threatened that you could've done a way better job than he did.”

“You really think so?” You peer up at him, hopeful that he’s not just saying that to make you feel better.

“Yes, but don’t start crying again.” He laughs, kissing the pout you answer him with. “In fact, I’m free if you ever want to try it out. And I want you to know that I take very good direction.”

There goes the flirting again. The one that makes you wonder if he’s sincere or it’s just part of his charm.

"Yeah, we could do that." You say nervously, letting him prop your chin up to press a proper kiss onto your lips.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asks but you shake your head. “Not hungry. Too depressed.”

“Aw, baby, do you wanna head back home with me? I can make you forget all about that asshole.” He brushes your hair out of your face, kissing you again, and you know what he’s really asking.

You’ve already gone on a few dates with him. It’s not too soon for this. This is what people who like each other do after going on multiple dates. And if you want to get over Beomgyu, you’re going to have to completely give yourself to Yeonjun. You can’t be holding anything back in the hopes that Beomyu might want it someday.

You put on a brave smile for Yeonjun. “Yes. Let’s head home.”

____________________________

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous.” Yeonjun whispers to you, feeling you tense up as he tries to push the straps of your dress down your shoulders. “You’re beautiful."

Does he really think that? You can’t be that beautiful compared to the women he’s been with.

"Did I tell you how much I love this dress?" He asks, toying with the neckline, and you shake your head. "I love it. Makes you look like a movie star. So beautiful and sexy. Almost makes me not want to take it off."

His lips brush softly over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake before he pulls back to look you in the eye. "But I wanna see all of you. Will you let me see you, doll?"

You nod, holding your breath as he pulls the dress down your chest, kissing every inch of skin on the way until your breasts are bare and his plush lips are wrapped around your nipple.

“Yeonjun…” You whine, grabbing onto his hair as he kisses and kneads your breasts, slowly but surely turning you on.

“Does it feel good, doll?” Yeonjun smirks, one of his hands going between your legs to rub your pussy.

“Yes. Please.”

“I got you, baby.” His mouth moves down your body as he pulls your leg apart.

“Missed this.” He murmurs, reaching your pussy and giving it a wide lick as his finger prods at your opening and pushes through. “Oh, that went in easy.”

“I… I finger myself.” You admit bashfully, covering your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed for some reason but Yeonjun just laughs and leans up to remove your hands and kiss you. “That’s okay, makes my job easier.”

You give him a confused look but quickly realize what he means when he presses another finger into you, moving both of them in and out to loosen your pussy.

“See? All good. I’ll have you fucked open for me in no time.” He drawls, staring you down confidently as he works another finger into you. You tense up on that last one so he uses his thumb to rub your clit to get you to relax a bit. “There you go. Open up for me, doll. Let yourself feel good.”

You’re trying to, you really are. You’re trying to focus on the moment, the burning feeling moving up your body from your pussy that just needs to be quenched.

He’s doing it so well, hitting all the right spots, completely confident and self-assured. He knows exactly what he’s doing. No clumsiness. No unchecked lust. No uncontainable eagerness. Just steady, purposeful movements that touch you places you didn’t even know you were sensitive.

“Feels good.” You slur, pressing your pussy further into his hand, grinding against his palm to seek more of that mind-numbing stimulation. “More.”

“I know, baby. But let me take it slow for you.”

You shake your head. You don’t want it slow. You want him to lose himself in you. “No. Want you now.”

“Doll–”

“Fuck me, Yeonjun. Make me yours.” Please. Please make me yours. Make me stop thinking about him.

Are you doing this for all the wrong reasons? Maybe, but how else are you supposed to get over Beomgyu? Don't they say the best way to get over a guy is to get under another one? Well, you'll just have to test that theory.

Yeonjun relents, shushing your needy mewls with kisses as he takes his hand away. “Hush, doll. I’ll fill you up again in a second.” He undoes his pants and pushes them off along with his underwear before grabbing you by the thighs and lining himself up with your pussy.

“You ready, baby?” He asks and you just stare at his cock.

Has Beomgyu already fucked her? He must have. He’s so needy to get his dick wet that he’d never miss up the chance.

You look up at Yeonjun. “Do it. Fuck me.”

Ok, so maybe you fingering yourself hadn’t fully prepared you for this. Maybe you should’ve taken a page out of Beomgyu’s book and gotten yourself a sex toy–a dildo to practice with before the real thing.

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes it slow despite your earlier demands, thrusting into you shallowly, letting you get used to his length bit by bit.

“Relax for me, doll.” He purrs gently, kissing all over your face as his hands massage your thighs, doing his best to get you to loosen up.

“Yes, Junnie.” You whimper, head falling back as you will your body to relax. You hear a soft chuckle coming from him. “Junnie? That’s cute.”

You blush as you realize what you’d said. You couldn’t help it. You love giving cute nicknames to your friends. And you guess your boyfriend too.

Yeah, because Yeonjun is your boyfriend now and boyfriends and girlfriends have sex. You know Yeonjun must have done it with all his previous girlfriends. It would’ve been weird if you didn’t.

Not that Yeonjun pressured you to do it or anything. But you know he wanted it. You wanted it too. You just couldn’t get Beomgyu out of your head. Which is why it’s good that you’re finally doing this–smothering that last candle you were holding out for him.

“You’re tensing again, doll.” Yeonjun tells you, kissing your neck. “Not that I don’t enjoy it. It feels like heaven when you squeeze down on my cock like that, but I want this to feel good for you too.”

Yes, it’s the right thing to do this… right?

“Okay…” You breathe, trying to relax and focus on the moment, letting your muscles unclench as Yeonjun presses his cock in and out of you.

Once you’re sufficiently relaxed, you start to actually feel good again, his cock feeling much better than your fingers ever did. It reaches places inside you that you never could by yourself. It’s so thick and long, dragging along your walls and stimulating those sensitive spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He drawls, taking note of the moans you were now letting out but he still takes it slow.

You breath hitches, his words too closely resembling what Beomgyu had said to you before, and for a split second you see Beomgyu over you instead of Yeonjun, his long hair tickling your face and his intense gaze burning you up.

“Yeonjun–” You gasp, digging your fingers into his arms. “Harder, please.”

Maybe if he fucks you harder, it’ll push Beomgyu out of your brain. Maybe if he fucks you harder, you could mistake his casual affection for the raw passion you crave.

“Are you sure, doll?” He asks, concerned.

“Yes, please, Yeonjun. Fuck me hard.” You insist, hoping your eyes convey how much you need it.

“Your wish is my command, baby.” He grabs your thighs, pressing them against the sides of your body and getting on top of you, driving his dick so deep inside you it makes you throw your head back in a long, choked out moan.

But he doesn’t let up, fucking into you again and again, bullying his cock into your virgin pussy at a brutal pace until you have no more breath to scream, and then he fucks you more.

“Baby, you with me?” Yeonjun pants, not letting up.

“Isss good….” You mumble, brain short-circuiting, caught by the fire spreading from your pussy to set your body alight. “S-so good.”

You vaguely hear him laugh through his own grunts, “Good girl, just lay back and let me make you feel good.”

You nod, tears brimming at your eyelashes at the overwhelming feeling. But you love it, the burning pleasure making its way through your body and making you forget about anyone else but Yeonjun.

“Junnie… soooo good…. Too g-good...” You cry, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it hammers in and out of you, your legs trying to slam together to take a break from the excessive pleasure, but they can’t. Not when Yeonjun’s hold on you is so bruising, his hips keeping at that brutal pace that makes you unable to even string along a full sentence.

“You asked for it, doll. Now be good and take it.” He grunts, bending down to pluck one of your nipples into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive nub.

“No–no—Junnie!” You scream, unable to take it anymore, your pussy clamping down on his cock as your whole body shudders with a blinding orgasm.

“Oh, fuck–baby, baby, I’m cumming.” Yeonjun groans, quickly taking his cock out as he cums on your belly, and replacing it with his fingers when you start crying at the emptiness.

“I got you, doll. I got you.” He murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he milks his cock of the last drops of his orgasm–letting you both down gently.

When you start squirming at the overstimulation–the fires retreating from your brain–he pulls his fingers out and bends down to kiss you. “It’s okay, baby. You did really well.”

You look up at him, the insecurity creeping back in again now that the mind-numbing pleasure is gone. “Did you like it? Did you like m-me?”

Were you good? Did you live up to his past lovers? Were you supposed to do something more? Be more proactive? Did he enjoy his time?

He chuckles. “Yes. You were great, baby. You felt so good.” He reassures you simply, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“Okay.” His answer doesn't really give you the reassurance you needed. You don’t even know what you need him to do or say, but you know he’s not giving it to you. And he notices.

“You okay, doll?” He asks, giving you a skeptical look and you nod. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t appear to be convinced by your answer. “Are you sure? Wanna take a shower?”

You shake your head, getting off the bed and beginning to dress yourself up again. “No, that’s okay. I can take a shower at home.”

“Home? You’re not staying over?” He gives you a look of confusion which you reciprocate. “Oh. I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

You blink at him, genuinely unsure. You didn’t want to presume anything. You don’t have experience doing this. You don't know if you’re supposed to stay or if it’s too soon.

“Of course. I’m not just gonna make you go home after we fucked.” He chuckles, pulling you back down to the bed. “You have to stay the night.”

“I don’t know…” You hesitate. If you stay, Beomgyu will probably know what you've done. He'll know that you and Yeonjun had sex. But if you leave you'd be choosing Beomgyu again. You need to let go of him.

“Okay.”

___________________

You end up having a nice time with Yeonjun once you get over your anxiety and trepidation of losing your virginity to someone other than Beomgyu. It's silly but you suppose on some level you thought you'd have your first time with him.

And it's not just that. For a second you let the insecurity get to you and you wondered if Yeonjun would act differently now that you had sex. That he'd show his true face and break your heart, but he doesn’t. He is as sweet as ever, giving you some of his clothes and staying up in bed with you, having those precious pillow talks that are so important early in a relationship.

He is easy to talk to, and when he does that cute thing where he scrunches his nose up and pokes his tongue out as he's teasing you, it makes your heart flutter.

You find out that singing isn’t his only passion--that dancing is his first love. He even gets up out of the cozy comfort of the bed to show you a few dance moves when you whine and insist he shows you. You watch him with a big smile on your face as he executes them so well even in his bedroom, his movements so fluid yet precise, it’s mesmerizing. And when he’s done he smiles that sweet smile of his and lunges back into bed with you and you take him into your arms as if he could actually belong there.

It was so unlike how he usually is on stage and in front of others that it tugs in your heartstrings a bit, making you feel special for being allowed to witness this.

You fall asleep in his arms and wake up in his arms, forgetting about that aching feeling of emptiness in the center of your chest for a few blissful hours.

And in the morning you even make breakfast together. Or more like he makes you breakfast while you make coffee.

“Oh, man. I haven’t had a proper breakfast in sooo long.” You moan, digging into the omelet and sausages he made you.

“You don’t cook?” He asks, smiling as he watches you eat.

“Nope. Me and Beomgyu are hopeless. We’ve almost burned the kitchen too many times that now we don’t even bother.”

“Then what do you guys eat?”

“Frozen goods and slimy take-out. We’re building a formidable gut microbiome. We’re actually part of the country’s biological weapons program.”

Yeonjun laughs. “Well, sorry for ruining your trajectory by feeding you actual food.”

“Ah, well, Beomgyu can carry the torch by himself.” You shrug, mouth full of food.

“You guys are really close, huh?” He asks, and the mood grows a bit gloomy. You chew slowly, thinking your words through before answering. “Yeah, he’s my best friend.”

“He’s more than that though, isn’t he?” He pushes and you hesitate.

Once again, you know exactly what he's asking, and you’re faced with a decision to make between an uncertain future with Yeonjun, nurturing a candlelight that is so shaky it might get snuffed out at any moment, or live on hopes and dreams with Beomgyu, praying for the sun to break out from behind the clouds after years of waiting for it to no avail.

“No.” You finally say, looking up at him, trying to be decisive, hoping it will come naturally with time. “No, he’s not. Not anymore. We’ve agreed to be exclusive, you and I, and I’m serious about it.”

Yeonjun's smile is slow, cautious. “Good to hear.”

Do either of you actually believe it? Do you really think you can move on from Beomgyu? You don’t know but you know that you have to try and you know that you'd like to try with Yeonjun.

________________________________

Still, heading home you feel uneasy. Like you'd done something wrong you’re going to get punished for, and so to ease the guilt and tension, you grab something on the way with you–just some donuts and coffee, a small token of peace, knowing Beomgyu would be hungry and that the best way to get into his good graces is to offer him junk food. It's not like he was going to make himself breakfast or anything anyway.

When you step into the apartment, you find him sitting on the couch just as you had expected.

“Wanna eat? I got you your favorite donuts.” You wave the food next to your head in lieu of a greeting.

He stares at you for a few seconds, not saying anything. Shit, does he know? Can he see it on you? Probably, since you’re still wearing Yeonjun’s clothes.

But he just says, “Sure.” and makes room for you on the couch.

You accept it gladly, watching as he takes the donuts out and offers you some. “No, thanks, I already ate.”

Once again, he pauses, studying you for a second before looking away and taking a bite of his donut.

“Ugh, I was starving. This is the real stuff.” He groans and you grin. "Yeah. This is food as God intended it, processed and fried until it barely resembles food." You hum in agreement, making him giggle.

For a second you think you're off the hook. For a second you think things can just be normal like he wanted. But then he asks you something that stops you cold.

"How was the date?"

You study his expression, trying to decipher a hidden agenda in the question. Is this a trick? Is he asking just so he can say something mean about it? Is he going to act vindictive once you tell him how it went?

But he looks genuinely curious to your scrutinizing eyes, and so you decide to just tell him the truth. "Ugh, awful. You know how completely unaware I am of my surroundings? Well, I started criticizing this one photo and the photographer was standing right behind me."

Beomgyu gasps, a piece of food flying out of his mouth at you. "No! What did he say?"

You brush it off in disgust. "He said I was a nobody."

Beomgyu's face twists up in anger as he puts the food down. "What the fuck? He said that?"

"Well, I said it and he just confirmed it." You explain sheepishly, still feeling the sting of the humiliation even now. "He said he has all these awards and I have nothing and never will and he won't listen to someone like me."

"He's a fucking idiot.” Beomgyu rages, immediately jumps to your defense, “What, he thinks just because he has awards that he's the only one who can have an opinion? You know most of these awards are just rich people smelling their own farts, right? Real talent like yours cannot be measured."

Beomgyu is as fiercely defensive of you as he has always been and it brings a small smile to your face. However, the wound that the encounter opened up is still raw and just that isn’t enough to make you feel better.

"Well, I wish it would be measured a little bit. You know we've both been doing this for years but while your band is getting bigger and bigger–and I'm so happy for you–I seem to be getting nowhere." You tell him glumly. You haven’t gotten any recognition for your work even though you work your ass off, dreaming up concepts, executing them to the best of your ability, and trying to get someone to notice.

"Hey, hey, you will. I am certain of it. No one this talented can go unseen for long. They will notice you one day and they will be blown away." He scoots closer to you, holding your face in his warm hands and caressing your cheeks lovingly. "And hey, if all else fails, you always have that backup plan of being our main stylist and photographer. Me and Yeonjun will make sure of it. And not as a sympathy job either but because we truly believe in you."

"You would work with Yeonjun again for me?" You ask, touched. Beomgyu has been very stand-offish with Yeonjun ever since you started dating him. He only interacts with him the bare minimum to still allow the band to function. It’s not ideal but at least they’re not fighting anymore.

"I would do anything for you." He smiles at you, the smile not quite reaching his sad eyes.

Has his eyes always looked like this? So melancholic? Still, you feel comfort looking into them. You feel love and familiarity. You feel home.

You do your best not to tear up, knowing if you let that dam crumble you'll end up saying things you'll regret. So you hold it together, despite how much you ache to throw yourself in his arms. You missed this. You missed him. You miss what you wish you could be.

But then he takes his hand away and asks quietly, “Did you spend the night with him?”

“Yes.” You admit in a small voice, heart hammering against your chest.

“Got it.” He says simply, and it’s somehow worse than him getting angry. There is a sense of loss there that you can’t explain but it aches, deep and inaccessible.

“Thanks for the food.” He says, getting up and throwing the rest of it in the trash.

"Wait. Where are you going?” You ask when you see him heading for the door.

“Out.” He says simply, seeming to be in a hurry to leave but you’re not ready to let him go yet. “Can't you stay for a bit?"

"I'm sorry. I've got something to get to. But I'll catch up with you later, okay?" He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s out of the door.

“Okay.” You mumble quietly to yourself, letting the tears fall freely, having no reason to hide them anymore.

_____________________________

A/N: AHHHH two more chapter left. the end is nigh and only one boy can win. as always feedback gives me the motivation to write and upload faster. also just to let you know i will be giving patreon a try and an alternative ending to this fic will be published with the losing boy there.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming. which boy do you want oc to end up with (voting has no bearing on the final results though i guess now it doesn't matter because we'll have an alternative ending anyway)

Taglist: @blxxsss @sanasour @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #dom!idol #sub!reader #fem!reader

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carolmunson · 4 months

Note

8✨ with virgin Eddie cos he’s the loml

'I look you in the eyes, I try to read you thoughts. I ask you to go with me, to a far off place.' virgin!eddie (well, not so virgin anymore) from the 'the nerve' one shot. (18+, references to drinking. implied stancy wedding.)

Eddie didn't really love to dance. He always felt awkward, never really getting the beat to anything that wasn't related to a guitar slung across his chest. His hips always moved too jerkily, he never knew where to put his hands. When Mrs. Mitchell from across the park tried to teach him to waltz for prom he stepped on her toes so much she needed a brace.

It didn't even matter for anything, he didn't go to prom. That's another reason he doesn't like dancing, or dances. Couples nuzzling close while they hold their partners -- what was the point when no one was gonna dance with 'The Freak' anyway?

He drums his fingers along the white cloth covered table to the beat of the DJ's thumping music, sipping his third glass of pinot noir. You had stepped out to run an errand for Nancy and Steve after the ceremony, 'maid of honor' duties you called it. Something about fashion tape and bandaids for blisters. While the music slows down he feels his heart sink, another dance where he sits alone in the low light. It comes back to him in a haze, two months before his senior prom -- He woke up early to take a shower and shave the little facial hair that had started to grow on his upper lip and chin. Painstakingly finger coiling every wave on his head with gel he knicked from the five and dime down the street. He asked Wayne if he could borrow his smart black button down and Wayne even pressed it before he left for work the night before -- hanging it up in the living room by the mugs. He wore he least ratty jeans and cleaned his Reeboks with a toothbrush and bleach. Eddie had never felt more together, more sure, and if he would say so himelf -- more handsome than he did that morning.

He cracked open his campaign notebook to the last page where he'd scrawled a script he'd been working on for at least two weeks:

Hi Chrissy What's up, Chris? How are you, Chrissy? Hey Chrissy.

I know you might not be expecting this but This might come as a surprise, but I was wond It would be an honor if Would you want to go to prom with me? Prom?

It was the first time he was ever at a loss for words. Tripping over himself any time she'd ask for a pencil in Bio or walk by the drama room on her way to cheer practice.

He stopped at Melvald's for a small bouquet of daffodils -- it was all they had that morning, and made his way to school, stomach full of butterflies while he played the potential outcome in his head over and over. He knew he had to have caught her looking every now and again. Giggling at his jokes in class. Always asking him for a pencil or a ruler when she could ask anyone else.

He parks in the spot furthest from the school, using the brisk walk to calm his nerves. With a few rolls of his shoulders he pushes through the main doors to his locker, only four down from Chrissy's. She'd be there any minute, ponytail bouncing, lips glossed.

He leaned against the wall, checking his watch and each end of the hallway, a flurry of students making their way in and out. The humdrum of the morning making his heart beat faster, the slamming of metal, the sneakers on the tile.

And there she is -- a blonde beacon of something special. She's smiling -- grinning. Looking right at him. He gets up off the wall, heart racing -- This is it Munson, he thinks, you're gonna ask her.

Chrissy's smile turns into a jump, a celebration of sorts -- and from behind him, another cheerleader appears, running up and jumping with her. They hug tight, screaming the way girls do when they're excited about something.

"He literally made a sign for the whole team to hold on the field!" she titters, "I can't believe he asked me!" "You're going to prom with Jason! Ahhh!" her friend screams back.

Going to prom with Jason.

Jason Carver? That asshole?

The hallways spins, his heart has never dropped so fast before. He'd never felt something so fast before. Dissappointment? Embarrassment? Rage? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Chrissy was going to prom with Jason Carver, and everything he planned was for nothing. Just standing there in the hall way with --

"That's a pretty bouqet, Eddie," Chrissy voice floats by, bringing him back to himself, "Whose the lucky girl?"

Coulda been you, he thinks.

His face sours, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's heart breaks again when she backs off, making her way to class when the bell rings. He chews on the inside of his cheek the whole way out of the school and back to his van -- making sure the shove the daffodils in the trash on the way out.

Right now feels the same, the only young guy sitting around while couples get up and jump around to Whitney's I Wanna Dance with Somebody when the music switches. He finishes his glass of pinot, sighing while he stands up to get another at the bar. He knows better, but something his gnawing in the pit of his chest -- that ache. He wishes you'd come back so he didn't have to keep putzing around like a lost puppy. Even Dustin had Suze out on the dancefloor.

Another ten minutes pass and he's settled back down at the table, the speakers rumbling down to a slow beat again, Luther Vandross's gentle croon floating over the room. Eddie swallows.

'Always and forever, Each moment with you, yeah Is just like a dream to me That somehow came true, yeah...'

It's then that he feels a warm hand on his back, sliding up to his shoulder, nails gliding comfortingly into the back of his hair. "Hi handsome," your voice like salve on his heart, "Did you miss me?" He turns, entranced by the way your dress hugs you and the scent of the perfume you have on tonight. There was no denying he picked right, no denying that he was right to wait for you this long.

"Of course, sweetheart," he smiles, smiling into the kiss you lean down to give him.

"You've just been sitting here while I was gone?" you furrow your brow, "C'mon, get up. Come dance with me."

He flushes, "No, no I'm...I'm not good at it..."

"Neither am I," you shrug, offering your hand, "C'mon."

He looks at your manicured nails, the bare finger that he wants to put a ring on now more than ever, then up at you. That little smirk you give him has never sold him quicker. With a deep breath he takes your hand, letting you lead him to the dance floor.

"Y'know, I've never slow danced with anyone," you say quietly, guiding his hand to your waist while you hold the other close to his shoulder. Eddie pulls you close, nose to nose, toe to toe. He can handle the gentle sway you start him with, a slow two step, winding bodies.

"Not even your ex? Seriously?" Eddie asks, mesmirized by your glossy lips.

"He never wanted to dance at the weddings we went to," you shrug, "Always thought it was lame. But I like to dance."

"What about prom?" he asks.

"I um," you look down and back up at him, "I didn't go to prom."

"No? How come?"

"Uh," you offer a tight smile in rememberance, accepting it, "No one asked me."

Eddie stops moving, hand holding yours going to your cheek. "No one asked you?"

You shake your head, "It ended up being okay, had a movie night with some other weirdos."

He remembers his own anti-prom with the guys, pizza and beer that he got Rick to buy for him.

"But it's okay," you reassure, "Cause now I get to have my first slow dance with you."

"We're doin' a lot of firsts together, aren't we?" he teases.

"Yeah," you nod, "And this is like, y'know, kinda like prom." "Sort of," he laughs, pulling you tighter, two stepping again to the rhythm. You give him a mischevious smile, teashing.

"Are you going to the after party? I hear they're gonna have winecoolers," you joke.

Eddie grins, boyish, "Oh yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

"Good 'cause uh," you lean to to whisper, giggling at your own bit, "They're gonna play seven minutes in heaven."

"No way," he gasps in fake astonishment, "Is there uh -- is there anyone you're hoping to land on?"

"Well um," you flick your eyes as him flirtily, "There's this one guy."

"This one guy?"

"Yeah and I was hoping like, after the dance." you continue in an exaggerated Valley Girl accent, "We could like, make out after."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, voice deepening, smoky.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, we can um," he leans in to kiss you, deep and slow, "We can definitely make out after."

#virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie musnon hurt/comfort #eddie musnon angst

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ssinboo · 11 months

Text

Couture Kisses

summary: You've been in love with your best friend, Kim Seungmin since forever!

in reply to this lovely ask!

pairing: Fashion student!Kim Seungmin x Fashion student!F!Reader

word count: 4k (25~ minute read)

warnings: weight insecurities and mentions of body image issues that aren't resolved, author has very limited knowledge of fashion, making out, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex

a/n: This ask has been marinating in my inbox since june ... OTL I apologise it takes me absolutely forever to write TT I couldn't bring myself to write him as exactly asked, so this is very vanilla!

An entire collection by the end of winter.

That’s your final project for fashion school.

Needless to say, you were panicking, hard.

Not that you didn’t have plenty of sketches to pick and choose from, but it being your final assignment it had to be special. Twelve pieces, all able to stand on their own and at least one that you would model on your own and steal the show.

Even though you tried to shimmy your way from the spotlight and just stand backstage, your professor was very insistent on you modelling at least one of your pieces.

You absolutely dreaded the stage and the attention.

Shy by nature, is how you were described by those close to you. And growing up larger than everyone around you took a toll on your self-esteem.

Your sister was more than up for the modelling, she loved you and of course, loved all your work. Always your number 2 supporter.

Who was number 1? Oh, well, none other than Mr. Kim Seungmin.

Unfairly handsome, Seungmin stood at a gorgeous 178cm with jet black hair and flowy bangs dyed a platinum blond. He had the most gorgeous almond eyes, which would adorably cross anytime he was a bit too tired. His nose was button shaped and a deep bridge that only accentuated his gorgeous eyes and the faintest little bump along its length. And his lips, gosh, his lips, you could go on and on about his perfectly shaped cupid’s bow or his exquisitely plump lower lip. (which only made his lip ring phase harder on your mental sanity).

Not that you had a crush on your best friend or anything, of course not!

On other news, Seungmin was a lot less worried about this final assignment, given that you actually agree to his maniacal request: model for his collection. All because you had asked him to model yours.

There were models available, of course, but you could also bring your own and being able to take multiple measures, and do as many fittings as you wished helped ease your anxiety.

“Come on, don’t be such a meanie!” You whine as he once again insists on this deranged idea.

“It’s only fair, we model for each other. Also, I introduced you to my friends so you could use them as your guinea pigs, you owe me one.”

“That’s… different,” You shrug. You were grateful for his friends’ willingness to help and the sheer quantity of them was a perk. But you would not get up on that runaway, no way!

“No, it’s not.”

“You know it is! You’re gorgeous… And I–”

“You what?” He interrupts with a thorny rasp.

You jump at his sudden jab, suddenly self-conscious about your self-consciousness.

“You know… I’m gonna make your clothes look ugly.”

Seungmin runs his tongue along his metal-clad teeth and slaps his hand over the cafeteria table.

“You’re gonna walk for me or I won’t do it for you. Don’t think of contacting me until you’re ready to give me the ultimatum.”

Harsh, yes. But he cared about you, more than he cared about anyone or anything, ever. You were the most gorgeous, caring, funny, intelligent, charismatic and talented person and his eyes. And everytime you put yourself down, it took every inch of restraint in his body to not grab your shoulders and yell just how much he loved you.

Although, he regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. As soon as the anger subsided, he was ready to call you and take it all back. But you came running to your shared apartment, ready to apologise and agree.

He was your bestest friend in the whole universe, you would do anything for Kim Seungmin. And it was about time you started doing it.

And all was forgotten by the time sketchbooks were splattered across the dining table and you exchanged ideas back and forth over chinese takeout.

You were crazy about holidays and especially valentine’s day. It was only fair for your final assignment to reflect that. You had plenty of lovely sketches that were fitting for your early february deadline. But you racked your brain over the clothes that would fit Seungmin.

Just what could possibly do his indescribable beauty justice? Any of your designs felt unbecoming of him.

It’s when you’re splayed out on your sofa during your weekly movie night, watching Pride & Prejudice for the thousandth time over, that you get an idea.

An idea so great you’re jumping and throwing the blanket over your half-asleep best friend.

Seungmin, the poor fella, thinks something might’ve happened. So he waddles into your bedroom, blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

You’re scrambling around for paper and pencils.

“What’s up?” He asks, voice drenched in sleep. Had you not been entranced by your sudden burst of imagination, you certainly would’ve melted at just how adorable he looked.

“I’ve got your outfit,” is all the context you give him.

“What?” He leans against the doorframe, fighting against his sleepy eyelids.

“Mr. Darcy! How could I have not thought of it before! It was right underneath my nose!” You’re gesturing and your thoughts run all over the place, but you’ve got the brightest smile across your lips.

And he stands there, watching you try and bring your vision to life, mumbles and grumbles coming out every now and then. Though his love-stricken smile is invisible to you.

Fabric shopping was always fun, especially when your best-friend tagged along. Seungmin had been keeping his inspiration a secret so far, despite your attempts, he was good at being quiet when he wished so.

You looked at different textures and colours all day, leaving behind a good chunk of your savings at the chain store. But all for a good cause.

There was plenty of cheaper fabric for mockups at home, so that’s where you started out. Since you didn’t want to bother Seungmin, his fit should be the last one – also, part of you was terrified of his look and how intricate it would be.

You were still in the warm-toned shades of autumn by the time you had your collection ready for next february.

All you needed were his measurements to get started on your Mr Darcy modern valentine’s day sort of look. It sounded strange to say out-loud, but the sketches looked great.

Seungmin comes out of his room in a tight tank-top and loose boxer shorts and you gulp, tightening your fingers around your measuring tape, this would be the longest day of your life.

Here he stands, in the middle of your room, surrounded by the fabrics you insisted he picked, with his arms stretched out and his chest available to you.

Starting off easy, you run the tape from his shoulder to his wrists, fingernails lightly grazing his bare skin. His eyes don’t leave yours for a single second, especially when you’re standing so absurdly close.

And when you have to basically almost wrap your arms around his chest to reach behind for the tape, he feels the odd urge to hug you and not let go.

You hugged often, of course, you did. You were best friends.

However, standing in your strawberry lotion scented bedroom in summer pjs, feeling weirdly warm for the current temperature outside, Seungmin feels his skin burn every time your fingers meet his body.

Seungmin is so beautifully proportionate, you think. Studying his slender arms and long legs, his torso, just perfectly built. In every way, he was destined to be the main character of a timeless romance.

This is way past your normal antics of going all obsessed with the bodies that would fit your designs. Thinking about making the outfit Seungmin would wear for all to see.

It’s like he would carry a piece of you.

You’re chewing at your lower lip, revising all numbers and doing the maths in your head to gauge out how much of each fabric you’ve got left and how much you’ll need.

“You got it?” He asks, startling you away from your thoughts.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Great. Your turn now,” He smiles, stretching out his hand for your sparkly, strawberry-scented pen and notepad.

So came the dreaded day he would take your measurements.

You haven’t done your own sizing in over a year now, an irrational fear of the tape finds you each time you think about it.

And part of you is totally ready to call the whole thing off and just beg Seungmin to please find someone else.

But he gives you no window of space to talk, pushing you to stand in the middle of the room and pulling your arms in the right position.

And you feel extremely exposed.

You’re so entangled in your spiral of self-hatred, you completely miss the sweat that threatens to pool at his forehead, or how often he’s gulped in the past five minutes.

Though he constantly craved close proximity to you, this time might be enough to kill him.

Your chest has always been the bane of his existence. Squishy, soft skin always pressing up against body whenever you hugged him happily, practically pouring out of any piece of clothing with a tighter fit. Rubbing around his arm when you’re walking hand-in-hand at the shopping centre.

And he feels horrid for being such a pervert, he does.

You’re his loving, kind, best-friend and he’s always ogling your body with his dirty male mind.

God, your waist. Abundant flesh folded over in adorable rolls, so perfectly shaped for his hands and his hands only. He imagined himself grabbing handfuls of your ass, running his hands all over your hips and waist.

Your thighs, so full and creamy; in particular when you wear the one summer dress your sister gave you on your last birthday. That dress drives him absolutely crazy. Floral linen with a wrap-around layered cut that leaves his mind running around thoughts of undoing those flimsy ties and finding that gorgeous body you’re so intent on hiding.

“Minnie?” You ask, a bucket of hot water over his flames.

Your voice is so soft, dripping in affection as always.

“Have you got it?”

He gulps, immediately shying away from your body lest he be corrupted by any evil thoughts.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Are you alright?”

Seungmin nods.

“It’s bad isn’t it?” You scratch at your nape, eyes avoiding his.

“Wha- What?”

“My measurements,” You shrug.

“No– No. Absolutely not, you’re fine, you’re perfect. It’s just– I’ve been rethinking my collection lately– Nothing to do with you,” He loses track of his words, rambling on and on while your love-stricken heart hangs hopelessly onto the word ‘perfect’.

“Well,” You fidget with the hem of your pyjama shirt, eyes slowly prodding at his reaction, “Anything I can help with?”

Seungmin finally smiles and your heart blooms in warmth, “Not yet, but there will be.”

And so on, your days are consumed with the mindless routine of class and working on your project.

Work went great with Seungmin’s friends, they were all so friendly and outgoing, you felt right at home. And everything looked perfect. Just missing one final look.

Though Seungmin was more than willing to do as many fittings as you’d like, you both scheduled a double try-on day. Which would also be the first time you’d see his design.

You keep fidgeting with your fingers, anxiety gnawing at your brain with every passing second. He’d locked himself in his room for ‘last-minute corrections’ and you were almost going crazy.

An hour later, Seungmin finally emerges from his room, a plastic cover draped over his design, keeping you from peeking.

“So?!” You inquire, he keeps avoiding your eyes, for some reason.

“I’m ready,” He nods and so do you.

“Rock, paper, scissors, loser goes first?” You ask.

“Please,” he nods fervently and you smile nervously.

So you stand before him.

He calls it out. Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

You put out Scissors.

And he put out Rock.

You go first.

Shit.

Seungmin seems all too relieved, still psyching himself up to show his design.

You pull your creation from the plastic covering and hand it to him. A creamy white button-up with flowy sleeves, a velvet crimson coat with embroidered details following its length and black leather trousers in a high-waisted cut.

“Good luck, I guess,” You joke and he laughs.

“No need for it. It’s gonna be the best,"he says.

Though when he finds himself changing into the set in the privacy of his bedroom, Seungmin is astonished, admiring every single detail you’ve poured into it. His fingers caress the handmade lacy collar, feeling the hours spent in every thread and stitch.

And it fits his body perfectly; white linen drapes across his chest, hugging his pecs but flowing down freely down his torso.

“You ready?” He calls out and you gnaw at your fingers in anxiety.

“Yeah.”

Seungmin pads through the hallway, eyes scanning the living room until they meet yours. You smile, eyes glistening in adoration, taking in this moment as if it would end too soon.

“Wow.”

He smiles, “I know, it’s amazing… You’re amazing.”

“No– It’s– You look so… Handsome,” It wasn’t uncommon for you to compliment each other, but this once felt too intimate.

Seungmin blushes, scratching at his neck.

“So… My turn, I guess?”

“Oh, yeah,” Oh, how you dreaded this moment, not that you doubted his abilities but with your luck, you’d ruin his hard work with your subpar looks.

Seungmin hands you an opaque plastic cover, he notices your hesitation, but gives up on saying anything lest you actually give up.

He plops onto the sofa as you leave for your room, chewing on his own lips. He hoped this dress could convey everything he felt for you, even if a little bit.

It takes you excruciating 5 minutes to finally come back into the living room.

Seungmin stands up, letting the cushion he’d held fall to the ground and match his jaw.

His work, – an asymmetrical white dress with a poofy skirt and a translucent layer of tulle decorated with snowflake shaped beads over its length – hugs your body perfectly.

You look absolutely ethereal standing before him with a shy smile, wearing the clothes he made with his own hands, every stitch done with thoughts of you.

“You’re breathtaking,”

You laugh quietly, “The dress is doing most of the work. It’s beautiful, Minnie, I don’t have any words–”

“No– You’re… Gorgeous.”

He’s serious, dead serious.

And you’re stuck in a staring contest, standing five feet apart in your living room, time comes to a standstill.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wouldn't– Not to you.”

You study his expression, searching for any, absolutely any sign of jest, but he’s serious. He truly thinks you’re… pretty?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Yes,” Seungmin takes a step forward, “The prettiest.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever…”

You want to believe his words, Gosh, you do. But it’s hard, it’s hard to believe anyone would look at you and think anything even remotely positive.

“Minnie– Seungmin, please,” You breathe out, “Please, tell me you’re not joking about this– I won’t forgive you.”

“Every day and night I think of you and I can’t take my mind off how you manage to steal my breath away every damn time.”

Your heart skips a beat or ten; he steps forward and you wish to close the space between you for once but your body doesn’t move.

You can’t take this, not if he isn’t serious, no. You would never recover from something like this.

“Say something, please,” He pleads.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Seungmin freezes.

And you curse at yourself, there, you’ve done it now. You’ve gone ahead and ruined everything.

But he lets out a sigh of relief and his hands find your jaw, pulling you toward his body at once.

Your fingers run up the soft fabric, gripping at the freshly overlocked edges, his pale skin teasingly on display through a tiny heart-shaped window which would later be adorned with blood-red rhinestones, though some had already been placed.

And your breath gets caught on your throat, threatened with the lull of proximity and his minty breath fanning on your lips. Nails digging into the velvet fabric of the overcoat, your eyes are stuck to his enticing chest.

He smells of baby powder, chalk, and of the blueberry-scented shampoo you bought on sale last month. And you let his perfume lure your stupid heart into an erratic rhythm. Let the heat of his body find your own, setting your cheeks on fire.

When your lips meet his, it’s as if a current runs through your bloodstream, awakening every cell and fibre in your body to the taste of the man you love.

“I’ve waited for this for forever, it seems–” He whispers against your kiss-reddened lips.

His fingers are tangled in your hair and his lips crash against yours once again. He’s forceful, desperate. All-consuming and ravenous.

You can only melt into his touch and seep into his body, hoping to become one and never be apart ever again. Oh no, you couldn’t stand another day away from his gorgeous lips now you’ve had a taste.

You wrap your arms around his neck and let him guide you, taking the smallest of steps back until your legs meet the sofa and you both fall down with a loud ‘poof’.

His hands cup your cheeks, tongue ravishing your mouth with relentless want, he drinks every moan and sigh before it even makes it past your lips. You’ve barely made out for five minutes and you can feel the volume of his hard-on poking at your hip bone.

Oh, it’s an incomparable rush of dopamine to affect someone so much.

Seungmin kisses at your lips, cheeks and jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin until he leaves behind his mark; his claim on you. His teeth graze along your skin, erupting goosebumps over its path.

“Don’t– Don’t want to ruin your dress–” You sigh, willing yourself to push him away.

He smiles against your collarbones.

“Wanna take it off, then?”

An indescribable heat flushes your body.

“Seungmin!!!” You yell.

“What? Take it off…” His hand reaches for the hem of the dress, toying with the soft tulle.

“No-!”

“Let me see your body, hm?” He hums, puppy-eyed and all.

“It’s–” You look away. You could barely fathom the idea of standing naked before anyone let alone the guy you’ve loved for ages.

Seungmin licks his lips, “Look, I’ve– I’ve been dreaming of this– You, under me…” His fingers ghost against your bare thigh. “I– I… You have no idea what you do to me, now, do you?”

You shake your head.

He reaches for your hand and then places it above the leather-clad bulge that rages in his trousers. As soon as your hand barely grazes the fabric, Seungmin gulps.

You’re overtaken with a desire to pleasure him.

You’re rid of the dress, – even with your pleas to treasure it, Seungmin throws it aside, eager to feel you bare.

You attempt to cover your modesty, but he solves that issue by pinning your hands atop your head. As he truly sees your body for the first time, you watch his eyes glisten in true adoration, a dark hint of lust behind them. Your skin burns hot under his attention.

“You’ll be the death of me, y’know…” He jokes, but there’s a hint of truth, his heart pounds against his ribcage.

He peppers kisses along your chest, tongue licking at your skin, watching you squirm and sigh at his every touch, how your nipples stand hardened and kiss-bitten. Trailing down your stomach, he makes sure to nip at the abundant flesh, to marvel at how plump and absolutely perfect you are.

Oh, and he mumbles at every move just how ethereal you are.

His lips graze your inner thighs, licking at your skin but not where you need him the most. Every time he breathes against your aching pussy, you practically jump.

Though he planned to tease you endlessly, Seungmin can barely hold back his wish to do nothing but lose himself between your gorgeous thighs.

He licks a long, torturous strip along your core.

You squeal.

But despite your squealing and squirming, Seungmin’s got a strong grip on your hips and he is making sure your pussy is all his for the tasting. And he finds it, he might be the one most affected, after all.

You taste absolutely divine, liquid euphoria flowing through his lips and eager tongue. He eats you out like the world is ending; as if this is all a dream and he will wake up alone and hot in his bedroom.

And you moan his name with each syllable sounding more tempting than the last.

Only once you come on his tongue, does he rest; but not for long, no.

If it were up to him, he would get a couple orgasms out of you, lay in between your legs for hours.

Seungmin leans back on his knees, admiring just how absolutely fucked-out you look with messy hair and heaving chest. And you look up at him with glossy, swollen lips and teary eyes. He can’t resist you, after all.

He kisses you again and again, fingers fidgeting with his trousers; Goddammit, why didn’t you put a zipper in this finger? Historical accuracy be damned when you want to fuck someone!

After his trousers are off, you urge him to lose the shirt as well and he complies. Seungmin is gorgeous; milky, unblemished skin with a slender build.

“Look at you, so perfect– So eager– Just for me–” He breathes out, tip teasingly rubbing along your dripping core.

You mewl, hands reaching out for him.

“Come on, baby, tell me– Tell me what you want.”

“I– I want you… I want you to fuck me.”

He curses a thousand bad words under his breath.

When he finally slips it in, his fingers dig into your love handles, leaving behind tiny crescent moon shaped marks. You arch into him and he holds you firmly, arms wrapped around your body.

He manoeuvres your legs over his thighs for a better angle and you feel him reach the deepest parts of your body. And you sigh, letting yourself feel full, stretched beyond bliss.

It’s only when he notices with a devilish smirk how you’ve started to grind against his hips that he starts to move.

You are bathed in pleasure and lust.

His hands run up and down your leg, worshipping your thighs and your stomach that jiggles with every powerful thrust of his hips. Oh, and your tits, how hypnotic is it that they bounce up and down?

You moan his name over and over, mind hazy with pleasure and he lavishes in that feeling. Of rendering you cockdrunk, providing you with inconceivable bliss.

Seungmin pounds into you relentlessly, skin slapping sounds an obscene symphony that fills your ears, only accompanied by the breathy moans; Oh, the sweetest of sounds were the way he sang your name.

You clench around him, greedy and lovestruck.

“Minnie– I’m gonna–”

“Shit– Come on, baby. Let go–” He groans out, hand reaching to rub your clit.

Your second orgasm crashes into your body with an unstoppable explosion. You squirm and Seungmin leans forward to capture your lips in kiss, to drink your most euphoric moans.

Hands wrapped around his back, you pull him flush to your heaving chest, letting the pleasure find your fuzzy brain.

When he finally reaches his own climax, he pulls out, painting your skin with translucent ropes of white. Draping over your stomach pale strings of his seed, a claim.

You’re smiling when his eyes meet yours and he is filled with immense relief; That’s you’re happy and well.

He lays by your side, pulling you on top of him with a smile that mirrors yours.

You lay on his chest, drawing figure eights along his soft skin to the stable sound of his heartbeat. Your own heart is draped in joy beyond comprehension.

“I think the clothes look great,” Seungmin jokes.

You laugh. “Yeah, I think they do.”

425 notes · View notes

angelsfat3 · 2 months

Text

ꮩ, 为什么错了？ ⸻[Summer of '53...]

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Summary: Nothing better than going late to your last year of camp and kissing someone you met that same day... Everything can happen that quickly, right?

C/w: story written from third person, repressed feelings, hidden “relationship”. ㅤ－ㅤTw: Curses, Overthinking, slight anxiety attack, feelings of overwhelm, soft brief smut.

Genre: suggestive (a bit), fluff, fantasy, vampire love, chapters.

A/N: First story of possibly several that I will do with a vampire plot. 😴😴

There will be a part where the reader's physique is noticeable, I got a little carried away and decided to touch him. (Jake did it for me) 🚶

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prior summary to..

The insistent sound of the bus horn echoed on the quiet suburban street, it was 8 in the morning and [...] was shaking off the morning drowsiness.

The brunette hurried down the narrow staircase of his house, jumping two steps at a time while fastening the belt of his pants. The half-eaten toast still hung from his mouth, a true representation of the rush that consumed him every time he was about to miss the bus.

"Wait for me, waaait!" he shouted, even though he knew no one could hear him from outside.

He took one last look around and touched his pants pockets, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything, before throwing open the door and running toward the sidewalk.

The cool morning breeze ruffled his hair as his worn sneakers hit the pavement and his loose shoelaces caused him to trip, clicking with a hurried rhythm.

The bus was there, right in front of his house, with the engine roaring like an impatient beast. The door opened with a metallic click, and the driver, a middle-aged man with an expression somewhere between stern and bored, looked at him with a mixture of exasperation and resignation.

“Get on, kid. We don’t have all day,” the driver muttered, although his tone lacked true annoyance.

[...] nodded, hurrying up the steps and issuing a quick apology before heading towards the back of the bus, where there were a few empty seats. As he made his way down the hallway, he nodded to some of his classmates, but his attention stopped abruptly when he noticed a group of new faces.

Sitting together near the end of the bus was a group of boy he didn't recognize. They did not wear the usual uniform, but rather dressed in a peculiar, almost old-fashioned way, with an air of elegance that contrasted sharply with the rest of the students.

Some faces were pale and beautiful, as if they had stepped out of an old painting, and their eyes had an intensity that made him pause for a moment.

He swallowed, feeling his heart race for reasons he didn't fully understand, perhaps nerves or fear of being disliked for the simple fact of not having the same “social status”.

There was something unsettling about them, a sense of mystery that made him aware of his own presence in a way he rarely experienced, he didn't even feel that way during his anxiety attacks.

To [...]'s relief, he found a seat a few rows ahead, right next to the window, and plopped down on it, trying to hide the nervousness that was filling him and how his heart was beginning to stir.

From his spot, he could see them through the reflection in the window: one boy in particular caught his attention. He had dark hair and eyes almost the same color, which seemed to shine with their own light, as if they were hiding secrets that the rest of the world should not know.

"Who will those little princes be?" Ethan muttered to himself—letting out a soft laugh, almost like a whisper—intrigued by the new students who seemed to have stepped out of another era.

The bus jerked off after the traffic, and as the houses and trees began to pass by the window, Ethan couldn't help but look back again, using as an excuse that he couldn't find his backpack—he had it next to him—, unable to shake the feeling that this trip would be different from any other he had taken before. Something inside told him that these strange Decelis boys brought with them a story that would change his forever... or maybe he was just delusional.

The morning advanced, and with it, the silent whisper of unspoken thoughts and encounters of chance glances that would begin to weave the plot of a summer that, without knowing it yet, it would be full of discoveries and revelations very quickly.

Chapter 1.ﾠ Sensations.

𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑔𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑛.

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The bus trudged slowly along the highway, leaving the city behind and venturing into the serene expanse of the countryside. The chatter of students filled the air, and the steady hum of the engine served as a kind of musical accompaniment. [...] sat near the back, taking advantage of the opportunity to pull out his camera, a faithful companion for capturing his memories.

The morning light bathed the landscape in golden hues, making the wheat fields and forests appear more vivid and alive. [...] framed his first shot, capturing the play of shadows and light on the treetops lining the road. He had always been fascinated by how photography could capture a moment, an emotion, and preserve it forever.

"Hey, [...], snap one of us too!" called one of his friends from a few seats ahead, breaking the brunette's concentration.

With a smile, [...] stood up and carefully navigated the bus's shaky aisle, focusing his lens on a group of his friends who were making exaggerated faces and grinning broadly. The camera clicked several times, capturing their camaraderie, the excitement on their faces, and a few funny expressions.

Just as he was about to return to his seat, the bus rounded a bend that offered a breathtaking view of the valley below, revealing a small waterfall basking in the sunlight, which was partly obscured by a few gray clouds.

Still standing, [...] couldn’t resist capturing the image. As he turned to focus, he noticed some of the new boys were also in the frame, seated with an air of tranquility and distinction. Jake, in particular, appeared lost in thought, gazing out the window with a serene expression.

The click of the camera seemed to echo more loudly than usual in the enclosed space of the bus, and [...] felt a moment of irrational panic. What if the princelings were upset about being photographed without permission? He knew some people were very private and disliked having their pictures taken without asking.

“Sorry about that,” [...] said with a timid smile, quickly stowing the camera and leaning awkwardly against his seat. “I hope you don’t mind being in the photo. The view was incredible; I promise I’ll find a way to crop you out.”

Sunghoon turned his head and, seeing [...]’s expression, broke into a friendly smile that instantly dispelled any tension. “No worries,” he replied in a relaxed tone. “We like being part of the scenery, ensuring everyone notices my beau—our beauty.”

Ni-ki, sitting beside him, cast a playful glance. “Just make sure you capture my good side.”

The comment elicited a small, nervous laugh from [...], grateful for the kindness with which they responded. The rest of the journey unfolded in a more relaxed atmosphere, with [...] occasionally taking photos of the landscape and chatting with his friends, though his attention frequently wandered back to the Decelis boys, intrigued by their commanding presence.

As the bus continued, the road wound through hills and dense forests, taking them further from the city's hustle and bustle. The fresh air, the mist enveloping the forest, and the changing scenery seemed to have a calming effect on everyone, as if they were shedding their daily worries with each passing mile.

Finally, the bus came to a halt with a crunch on the gravel path of the camp.

Upon disembarking, [...] felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness as he surveyed the cabins that stretched out before them. Despite having been here in previous years, he was always amazed by the constant changes.

Around him, students chatted animatedly, excited about the start of camp. The cabins, with their rustic appearance, were organized in groups, and the beds were arranged in sections of four, side by side— a change he hadn’t expected.

As he walked towards his assigned cabin, [...] couldn’t help but wonder whom he’d share the space with this year. He hoped it wouldn’t be like the previous camp when he had to sleep near a bunch of girls.

Inside the cabin, he began arranging his belongings, seeking a comfortable spot in one of the empty sections. He was putting away his camera when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Hey, looks like I’ll be bunking with the photographer.”

[...] turned to see Jake standing beside him, a friendly expression on his face.

“Oh, hi,” [...] replied, a small knot of nervousness forming in his stomach. “I’m [...], by the way.” He offered a warm smile to the boy.

“Jake,” the boy said, extending his hand. His handshake was firm, and [...] noticed the warmth in his eyes, an intriguing contrast to his almost ethereal appearance, cold as a corpse.

The two began organizing their things on the adjacent beds, exchanging light remarks about the trip and the camp. The conversation flowed with an ease that [...] hadn’t expected, as if there were an invisible connection between them.

“What brought you to this camp?” [...] asked, trying not to seem too curious—or intrusive—about the mysterious academy.

Jake shrugged slightly, smiling. “Our headmistress thought it would be good to break from our usual routine. Something of an educational... experience.”

Before the honey-eyed boy could inquire further, two more figures entered the cabin, interrupting their conversation. They were two tall, elegant boys, Jake’s companions.

“Is this our cabin?” one of them asked, looking around with a scrutinizing expression, clearly a bit repulsed by the smell.

“Looks like it,” Jake replied with a grin, gesturing for them to come over. “These are Sunoo and Heeseung, my friends.”

[...] nodded, greeting them with a friendly smile. “I’m [...]. Nice to meet you.”

Sunoo and Heeseung joined the group, taking the remaining two beds. The small section of four beds was now complete, and [...] felt a mixture of apprehension and excitement as he realized he would be sharing his space with three boys who seemed to hail from an entirely different world.

“So, is this your first time at this camp?” Sunoo asked as he placed his backpack at the foot of his bed, looking at [...] with unhidden curiosity.

[...] shook his head, trying to stay relaxed. “No, I’ve been here before. But never with students from a school like yours.” Quickly, the smile on his face turned into a look of panic. “I-I mean, we’ve never had boys from another school before.”

Heeseung smiled, exchanging a glance with Jake. “Decelis is... unique; they don’t usually let us do activities with other schools, so this is a miracle. I’m sure we’ll get along well.”

The conversation flowed easily, and soon they found themselves laughing and sharing stories of their lives before camp. [...] discovered that despite their differences, the boys were not as distant as he had imagined. There was an air of mystery about them, yes, but also a warmth that surprised him, a very close bond.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, marking the beginning of the camp activities, [...] couldn’t help but feel that this summer would be different. Something in him had changed since he boarded the bus that morning, and he was determined to discover what it was.

After the honey-eyed boy and the others settled into their beds, the cabin's bustle increased as more students arrived with their backpacks and suitcases.

The room quickly filled with male voices and laughter as everyone settled in, searching for the best spot to place their belongings.

[...] watched with interest as the other students from Decelis, with an almost choreographed ease, seemed to group together without even trying. It was a strange phenomenon, as if an invisible force guided them to stay close.

In no time, the seven boys, including those he had met briefly, formed a small island within the cabin, occupying two contiguous sections of beds.

The arrangement seemed too perfect to be mere coincidence, and [...] wondered if it was part of their camaraderie or simply something they had agreed upon before getting off the bus.

The other students noticed as well, but no one commented; they simply accepted the arrangement and continued with their conversations.

Meanwhile, [...] busied himself organizing his space, placing his camera and some books on the small shelf beside his bed.

As the morning progressed, time passed quickly. The honey-eyed boy was reviewing some of the photos he had taken on the bus when the sound of a bell rang out, capturing everyone’s attention.

“It’s time to gather outside!” announced one of the camp guides, appearing at the cabin door with an enthusiastic smile. “We have a special activity planned for you.”

The students began filing out of the cabins, some murmuring excitedly about what lay ahead. [...] followed the group, adjusting his shirt and feeling a mix of anticipation and curiosity.

Outside, the guides had gathered all the students in a wide clearing where the sun shone brightly, creating a vibrant and welcoming atmosphere. A group of maps and small survival kits were stacked on a nearby table.

“Welcome to your first camp activity,” announced one of the guides, a woman with short brown hair and a friendly smile. “Today, we’re going into the woods in pairs to collect firewood. We’ve scattered pieces of wood along the marked trail on these maps. The goal is to find as many pieces as possible and bring them back here.”

The excitement in the group was palpable, and [...] watched as everyone began pairing up. Sunoo and Ni-ki immediately teamed up, laughing among themselves as they examined a map. Jake, meanwhile, seemed to observe the situation calmly, a slight smile on his lips.

[...] looked around, searching for someone to partner with, but ultimately decided to give up; the activity was meant to get to know his classmates, but he already knew almost everyone.

A familiar sense of isolation crept over him, one he had experienced before in similar activities. However, he decided not to let it affect him and approached the table to pick up one of the maps, determined to enjoy the activity on his own.

With the map in hand, [...] began following the trail that led into the forest. The fresh air and the whisper of the leaves surrounded him, filling him with a tranquility that only the woods could offer. Although he was alone, he appreciated the time to reflect and let his mind wander.

He unfolded the map completely, quickly heading toward what appeared to be a cart with some wood. His face lit up with joy, confident that he would collect more than the others.

As he walked, focused on his search for wood, he didn’t notice the figure approaching him until he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. [...] started, turning quickly to see who it was, crumpling the paper slightly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” said Jake, with a calm smile and his hands at his sides. “I thought you might like some company; I saw you went in alone…”

[...] exhaled, relieved to see it was Jake. “No worries, though I almost crapped my pants. But yeah, I’d appreciate the company.”

Jake joined him on the path, both walking at a comfortable pace. The conversation flowed easily between them, alternating between light topics and more personal ones. [...] discovered that Jake had a natural way of making people feel at ease, as if time slowed in his presence.

The way his voice was so relaxed and smooth, his eyes containing almost a galaxy within them, his appearance like that of a puppy, and the way his personality enveloped yours—it was all too much.

“So, do you like photography?” Jake asked, pointing to the camera hanging from [...]’s neck.

“Yes, it’s one of my passions,” [...] replied enthusiastically. “I’ve always believed that photos can tell stories in ways words cannot, and no matter how much time passes, looking at a picture brings back that beautiful memory.”

Jake nodded, intrigued. “That sounds deep. I’d love to see some of your photos someday.”

[...] smiled, surprised by Jake’s genuine interest. “Sure, anytime. I’d love to show you.”

As they walked together, they stumbled upon several pieces of wood scattered on the ground and part of a small basket, just as they had imagined. Both gathered the pieces amid laughter and play. The task, which initially seemed like a simple game, turned into a delightful experience thanks to Jake’s company.

As they progressed, [...] couldn’t help but notice how easy it was to be around Jake. There was a connection between them that he couldn’t explain, a sense of familiarity that made him feel more open and like himself.

He wondered if Jake felt the same, but for now, he enjoyed the simple joy of his company, finding himself smiling whenever he looked at him.

The sun began to set as they finally returned to the clearing, loaded with the wood they had collected. Other students were also returning, some with larger piles than others, but all with satisfied smiles on their faces and sweat-soaked clothes.

“Great job, everyone!” exclaimed one of the guides as the students deposited the wood in a central pile. “Since we have enough wood for tonight’s bonfire, take some time to change into something comfortable. The welcome party will start soon.”

[...] glanced at Jake, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and curiosity for the boy who had turned a solitary activity into a shared adventure.

As the day drew to a close, he couldn’t help but wonder what other surprises the camp had in store for him and what role Jake would play in them. In a short time, he could sense that this beautiful black-haired boy had become special to him... as a friend, of course!

With dusk enveloping the camp in soft, warm hues, [...] knew that, although the bond between everyone was just beginning, it was already becoming something unforgettable.

The group of students, tired but satisfied, began to disperse toward their respective cabins. [...] made his way to his cabin with the other boys and his friends, feeling the cool air reminding him that summer had only just begun.

Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was controlled chaos. Backpacks and suitcases were quickly opened as everyone searched for something comfortable to wear to the party. [...] headed to his bed, pulling out a clean T-shirt and jeans. As he removed the sweaty shirt from the day, his friends began to tease him with playful comments.

“Too many clothes, hottie!” one of his friends shouted, feigning a dramatic faint.

“Is that what Soomun was into?” joked another, referencing [...]’s ex.

[...] felt his face heat up, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he tried to cover himself with the shirt he had removed. The blush on his cheeks was unmistakable, and his friends seemed to enjoy his reaction.

“Shut up, idiots!” said [...] through laughter, throwing his sweaty shirt at one of his friends in an attempt to silence them. But the friend, always ready to exaggerate, caught it with a dramatic shout, acting like a “crazy fan” who had received a prized treasure.

“[...], I love you, give me a child!” exclaimed the boy, hugging the shirt as if it were a trophy, jumping and shouting.

The cabin erupted in laughter, the sound echoing off the wooden walls. Even [...], despite his embarrassment, couldn’t help but laugh. The atmosphere was contagious, a mix of camaraderie and humor that made everyone feel part of something special.

Amid the laughter, [...] realized that Jake was watching him from his own bed. There was a faint smile on his face, and his eyes reflected a mix of amusement and something more, a kind of silent admiration that made [...]’s heart beat a little faster.

Jake stood up and approached [...] with a casual air. “Looks like you’re the center of attention, hottie,” he commented with a soft laugh, picking up the shirt from the floor and handing it to [...]. “I think they like you better with a shirt on.”

[...] laughed, accepting the shirt and leaving it on his bed, feeling the blush still present on his cheeks. “Thanks, Jake. These guys are idiots, but they’re my friends.”

“I noticed,” Jake replied, his voice soft but with a touch of playfulness. “But it’s good to have friends like that. It makes everything more fun.”

[...] nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude for Jake’s presence. There was something about him that made [...] feel... good, as if he didn’t have to worry about impressing anyone or pretending to be something he wasn’t. It was a feeling he had rarely experienced before.

“And you, are you ready for the party?” asked [...], quickly changing the subject as he put on his clean shirt.

Jake smiled, adjusting the shirt he had chosen. “Always ready. Although I don’t know if I can keep up with your friends.”

[...] laughed again, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I can’t either most of the time.”

As the boys finished changing, the clamor in the cabin began to diminish. The sun had almost completely disappeared, leaving a starry sky that promised a night full of promises and possibilities.

With one last glance in the small mirror over his bed, [...] joined his friends as they stepped out into the cool night air, ready to enjoy the welcome party.

The bonfire was already lit, its warm glow illuminating the camp clearing as the first notes of music filled the air. The young honey-eyed boy captured a perfect scene within his camera, taking a photo that, for him, was the best so far.

The night promised to be memorable, and [...], along with Jake and the others, ventured into it with a mix of expectation and excitement. The adventure had just begun, and he was ready to enjoy every moment of this summer that seemed full of surprises.

The night air was imbued with the aroma of smoke and pine resin as the students gathered around the bonfire, the crackling of the flames filling the silence of the forest. The welcome party was in full swing, and the atmosphere vibrated with the pent-up excitement of the first day of camp.

Jake hurriedly got up from his makeshift seat on the ground, a warm smile on his face as he approached [...]. “Hey, [...], why don’t you come sit with us? We have a spot for you,” he gestured toward his group, already settled in a circle near the fire.

The almond-eyed boy, surprised and flattered by the invitation, nodded, ready to join Jake and his friends.

Just as he was about to move toward the circle, he felt a hand on his arm. “[...], come here! We saved you a spot,” exclaimed Minah, his school friend, pulling him enthusiastically to where she was seated with other familiar faces.

[...] hesitated for a moment, looking between Jake and Minah. The choice was difficult, but the impulse and insistence of his friend led him to join the group he already knew. He gave Jake an apologetic smile before nodding to Minah. “Alright... let’s go.”

As the red-haired girl dragged him along while hugging his arm, [...] could only glance back slightly, noticing only Jake’s silhouette.

Elsewhere.

Jake watched as [...] walked away with Minah, hiding his disappointment behind a forced smile. His head was lowered as he returned to sit with his brothers, staring at the dancing flames as the sound of crackling filled the air.

The bonfire burned brightly, and the camp guides distributed ingredients for making s’mores.

Laughter and chatter mixed with the crackling of marshmallows roasting in the flames. [...], holding his stick with a burning marshmallow at the tip, listened to the conversations around him while trying not to burn his fingers... or his marshmallow.

The brothers, seated together, observed the night’s progress with keen eyes. Jake, still feeling slightly displaced, tried to focus on his marshmallow, slowly rotating it over the fire.

“Jake, you can’t let this get to you again,” Jungwon whispered, leaning in close to his older brother’s ear, his voice barely a murmur above the crackling of the fire.

Jake gave him a sidelong glance, trying not to appear too affected. “I know, but... it’s complicated,” he replied, looking at [...] from his position.

It was inevitable. Each time [...] glanced up, Jake quickly averted his gaze, trying to be discreet, either by talking to a girl next to him or taking out cookies from a small box.

The music faded a bit when one of the guides stood up, capturing everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone, it’s time for a little contest,” he announced, his voice resonating across the clearing. “We’re going to tell scary stories. Each of you will have the chance to share one, and the one that scares us the most will earn the right to retire to their cabin before the rest. Who wants to start?”

The proposal was met with a chorus of “Me!” and “Over here!” as the students buzzed with excitement at the idea. One by one, they began sharing their chilling tales: urban legends, ghost stories, and their own strange experiences.

When it was the Decelis boys' turn, their stories were met with interest, though for them, true terror lay in secrets much deeper. Heeseung recounted a tale about a solitary vampire lurking in the night, which elicited some genuine shivers, even if it wasn't as imaginative as the other tales.

Finally, it was [...]'s turn. He stood up, feeling the weight of the eyes upon him. He took a deep breath, letting the firelight cast shadows across his face.

“Well, I have a story that’s more personal than terrifying,” he began, his voice calm but steady. “When I was little, I used to see a strange figure outside my bedroom window. I thought it was a werewolf... and when I slept, I would often wake up with scratches on my skin.”

He paused, lifting his arm slightly to show a scar on his forearm. “This scar... I've had it since I was eight years old,” his eyes traced the old scratches. “I remember that night clearly. The figure appeared closer than ever, and although my parents never believed me, I know something was there.”

A murmur rippled through the circle. Some of the students leaned forward, captivated by the story. However, the Decelis brothers exchanged meaningful glances, [...]’s story resonating on a deeper level with them.

“That’s... intriguing,” commented Sunghoon, his voice soft and layered with subtext. To the boys, the mention of a werewolf was not just a scary story; it was a reminder of their own enemies and the challenges that their lives entailed.

Voting began after everyone had shared their stories. A student stood up and suggested that [...]—or Eric—should win, pointing to the scar as evidence of the story’s truth. “Come on, guys, he’s got a scar from it... that’s messed up.”

[...] felt a warmth in his cheeks at the unexpected support, though he couldn’t help but smile at the idea. But fate had other plans, and when the count ended, the winner was another student [...] recognized from sight, someone whose ghost story had impressed with its theatricality.

There was a murmur of dissatisfaction among the students, but the decision was final. They applauded the winner while some quietly expressed their disagreement.

Jake, watching from his spot, shared a look of support with [...]. Although he hadn’t won, the momentary connection between them had left a lasting impression.

The campfire continued, with the students relaxing as the sky darkened completely, dotted with stars. The night wore on, filled with laughter, stories, and a sense of adventure that promised many more surprises.

Chapter 2. Memories.

𝑇𝒉𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑖𝑛.

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The bonfire had come to an end, but the night was just beginning. As the fire dwindled to glowing embers, the camp counselors initiated the welcome party. Speakers, hidden among the trees, began to play music from the 50s. Familiar sounds filled the air, inviting the students to lose themselves in the rhythm.

Colorful lights hung from branches, casting shimmering patterns across the leaf-covered ground and creating a magical atmosphere.

The melodies of Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly echoed as the boys and girls began to move to the beat of the music. A large table had been set up near the bonfire area, laden with bowls of chips, cookies, and a big bowl of cherry punch that someone, in a moment of folly, had spiked with a bit of clandestine alcohol.

[...] found himself surrounded by his friends, who were teasing and pushing him towards the center of a small, improvised circle. The atmosphere was light and full of laughter, and although he had initially been a bit hesitant, [...] soon let himself go, moving to the rhythm of the music with a smile on his face.

“Come on, [...], shake that ass!” joked one of his friends, attempting a dance move that made the whole group burst into laughter. The girls clapped, encouraging the boys to keep up their antics, while [...] laughed along with them, his cheeks flushed both from exertion and embarrassment.

Jake, for his part, watched the scene from a respectful distance, but he couldn’t help his gaze from frequently falling on [...]. There was something about the way [...] moved, an endearing authenticity that made him stand out from the crowd.

Jake found himself captivated by the young man who seemed to light up everything around him with his mere presence and laughter.

Despite the warning from his former teacher, Jake couldn’t deny what he felt. “Vampires can’t love,” she had said, her voice full of certainty. And yet, here he was, feeling something that defied all logic.

Every time [...] passed nearby, Jake seized the opportunity for a fleeting touch, a whispered word, a chance encounter of glances that said more than either of them was willing to admit. To Jake, [...]’s eyes spoke volumes, his smile unmasking the past of the almond-eyed boy, and his body... was like a sculpture, each detail special to him.

As the party progressed, the atmosphere became more relaxed. Some students, having had too much of the "special" punch, began to collapse onto blankets spread out on the ground, gazing up at the starry sky. The laughter turned to murmurs, the twinkling lights blended with the soft moonlight, and the low crackle of burning wood created the perfect setting for a modern cinema.

Jake moved through the gathering, his attention always fixed on his goal, [...]. He sought any excuse to approach him, and finally managed to place himself beside him under the pretense of reaching for a cup of punch.

“Enjoying the party?” Jake asked, smiling casually as he poured punch into a plastic cup. “Most people seem to be a little too... happy.”

[...] returned the smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, it’s turning out better than I expected. Your friends seem pretty happy too, don’t they?"

“Oh, yeah, they are. I just hope it won’t be a problem when the party ends,” Jake replied, knowing the truth was much more complicated. “But I’m glad to see you’re having a good time. I didn’t expect you to be such a good dancer.”

[...] let out a small laugh, shrugging. “I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but at least I don’t look like a log. What about you? I haven’t seen you much around here; you seemed to be hiding.”

Jake shrugged, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not very good with dances from this era, and speaking of hiding, you disappeared for a while too.”

As their conversation flowed, Jake felt the connection between them deepen. [...] had the ability to make him feel... human. It was a warm sensation that spread through his chest, defying everything he had been taught.

The night continued on, and gradually, the party began to wind down. The camp counselors, who had been watching from their table, stood up to announce the end of the evening. “Alright, everyone, it’s time to start thinking about heading back. But first, we need volunteers to help with the cleanup.”

The announcement was met with a mix of groans and resigned looks. Some of the students, more sober than others, began collecting cups and disposable plates, helping to restore the clearing to its original state. Among them, Jake and [...] worked side by side, exchanging smiles and comments as they picked up trash and wrappers, eager to stay close to each other for as long as possible.

“Thanks for helping out, guys,” one of the counselors said, nodding approvingly. “Remember, the winner of the ghost story contest is free to leave early. So congratulations!”

[...] watched the lucky winner make his way towards the cabin while other students quietly murmured their discontent once more. Although he would have liked to win, [...] was satisfied with the night. He had felt a genuine connection, one he hadn’t expected, and as he headed towards his cabin, he couldn’t help but glance back at Jake, who lingered behind him as if trying to prolong the moment too.

The two shared one last look before parting for the night, each lost in their thoughts about what would come next. For Jake, the certainty was clear: he was willing to defy any warnings about his inability to love. And for [...], the curiosity and intrigue about the mysterious new guy continued to grow, promising an adventure that was just beginning.

As the bonfire lights slowly faded, and the silence of the forest closed in around them, the students retreated to their cabins. The night had been a prelude to what promised to be an unforgettable summer, full of discoveries and unexpected emotions.

Chapter 3. Our moon.

𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑠 𝑏𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.

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The boys entered the cabin with laughter and boisterous voices, still riding the high of the party. The energy of the night lingered in the air as each sought out their spot on the bunk beds. With sleeping bags already in place, they began to change, shedding their party clothes for more comfortable sleepwear or simply stripping down to their underwear.

The sound of zippers from backpacks and the rustle of fabric sliding over skin mingled with the last conversations of the day. The air was lightly scented with the aroma of alcohol and the carefree essence of a summer camp night.

Jake, like the others, quickly changed, feeling at ease among his brothers and new campmates. While he kept his focus on someone else, he couldn’t help but join in the jokes and laughter, as if it were a secret ritual shared by all the camp's young men.

A counselor entered to turn off the lights, peering in with a flashlight that cast an eerie glow over their faces. “Alright, guys, it’s time to get some rest. We’ve got activities tomorrow, and remember, the points depend on you.” With a final wink and a “good night,” the counselor switched off the light and closed the door behind him.

Darkness enveloped the cabin, and one of [...]’s friends called out into the shadows, “Goodnight, my werewolf,” he teased, followed by a playful howl and stifled laughter that rippled through the room. [...] couldn’t help but laugh, burying his face in his sleeping bag, grateful for the darkness that hid the blush on his cheeks.

As the camp settled into a sleepy silence, [...] lay awake, staring at the cabin ceiling. The nighttime quiet was interrupted only by the gentle breathing of others and the occasional creak of wood beneath their shifting bodies.

[...] sighed, idly tracing his fingers over his stomach as his mind wandered from thought to thought. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting back to that moment at the party when Minah had pulled him aside.

The music mingled with the murmur of conversations as Minah gently tugged on his arm, pulling him away from the party’s bustle to a quieter corner. [...] had followed her without hesitation, curious to hear what she had to say and feeling the pressure of her nails digging into his skin.

“[...], I need to tell you something,” Minah began, her voice trembling slightly and her eyes somewhat glazed from the alcohol.

He looked at her with curiosity, waiting for her to continue. “What’s up, Minah?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“It’s just that... well, I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I think it’s time you knew,” she said, her eyes meeting [...]’s with a mix of hope and anxiety.

[...] felt a pressure in his chest, as if he could anticipate what was coming. “Minah...”

“I’m in love with you, [...]” she confessed, stepping closer, her gaze full of hope. “I know we’re friends, but I can’t help how I feel. I’ve liked you since we met, and over time you’ve shown me that you’re not like that jerk Han,” referring to her ex-boyfriend.

[...] swallowed, feeling the world around him slow down. Minah tried to move closer, her intentions clear, but [...] gently stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Minah, you’re a great friend, and I really care about you,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “But... I don’t feel the same way. I only see you as a friend, and I don’t want to change what we have. I’m grateful you’ve been able to share your feelings, and I hope you know I’d never make fun of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That was what she thought.

The hurt in Minah’s eyes was palpable, and [...] wished he could tell her the truth, to explain that it wasn’t because he didn’t love her or find her attractive, but because his heart simply wasn’t aligned with hers. He didn’t feel brave enough to admit that he was gay, not even to his best friend.

“I’m sorry, Minah. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t want to break your heart like this,” he said, trying to console her with a hug that she accepted with a sad smile, hiding her face against his chest.

The memory of that conversation weighed heavily on his mind as he lay in the darkness. [...] sat up in his bed, feeling the need for fresh air to clear his thoughts. Carefully, he got up, making sure not to make any noise. His eyes swept across the cabin, briefly pausing on Jake, who was sleeping peacefully a short distance away.

Jake looked serene, his expression relaxed in sleep, and [...] couldn’t help but feel drawn to the calmness that emanated from him. He studied the contours of Jake’s face, the shape of his lips, how his upper lip was slightly fuller than the lower one, and how they glistened with saliva as if calling to him in some inexplicable way. A thought crossed his mind, making him shudder. “What am I thinking?” he chided himself in a whisper, tearing his gaze away as his heart raced.

Determined to find some clarity, he quietly rose and made his way to the cabin door. He opened it as silently as possible, careful not to wake anyone, and stepped out into the cool night air.

The forest stretched out before him, bathed in the soft glow of the moon. [...] walked along the path leading to the small bridge over the river, his hands running through his hair in an attempt to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind.

The path was silent, the only sound being the gentle crunch of twigs beneath his feet and the whisper of the wind through the trees. Each step brought him closer to the bridge, where the view of the moonlit river awaited him.

Upon reaching the bridge, [...] sat on the edge, letting his feet dangle over the gently flowing water. He gazed at the moon’s reflection on the river’s surface, his mind still divided by Minah’s words, her green eyes swollen with tears that continued to haunt him, mingling with the emotions that Jake, the boy he couldn’t stop looking at, the one who made him question everything he thought he knew about himself, had stirred in him.

[...] sighed, allowing the tranquility of the place to envelop him. The fresh air and the sound of the water helped him calm down, though he couldn’t stop his mind from processing what he had felt that night.

The moon shone brightly, and [...] allowed himself a few moments of peace, his heart finding a steady rhythm as he took in the nocturnal world around him. The forest, the river, the moon… everything seemed so vast and full of possibilities, and though he didn’t have all the answers, he held onto the hope that moments like these always happen, and maybe he was only feeling this way because of the alcohol.

As the night wore on, [...] remained on the bridge, watching the river’s course and allowing his thoughts to flow like the water, leaving behind the weight of doubts and embracing the freedom of the unknown.

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On the other hand, in the cabin minutes before [...] left...

Jake lay on the bed, seemingly asleep, as the darkness of the cabin enveloped everyone inside. His mind was far from any dreams, though. Instead, he lay awake, watching [...] from the corner of his eye. [...] lay on his bunk, idly playing with his hands on his stomach, his thoughts clearly lost in another world.

The sight of [...], illuminated by the gentle light filtering through the window, made Jake's heart pound and his arousal grow. Jake closed his eyes, feigning sleep, but his mind wandered, carrying him to a place where he and [...] were alone.

In his imagination, Jake found himself beside [...], leaning over him, whispering how much he loved seeing him in those pants, imagining how good his lips would look while they worked their magic, and kissing his neck in the process.

He envisioned his lips traveling over every inch of [...]'s skin, kissing and gently nibbling, exploring the parts of [...]'s body that so captivated him. The intensity of his thoughts consumed him, carrying him to a state of silent ecstasy as he touched himself under the sheets, careful not to make a sound, imagining his hand was [...]'s thick lips or, even better, that beautiful, tight opening.

Each time [...] shifted, Jake watched intently, captivated by every small gesture, every sigh that escaped his lips. When [...] finally rose from the bed, moving carefully and heading for the door, Jake felt a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

[...] slipped out of the cabin, and Jake, driven by a force he barely understood, decided to follow, pulling up his pajamas as he went.

He got up stealthily, making sure not to wake his siblings or the other boys. His movements were precise and silent, like a predator stalking its prey. Experience.

He maintained a cautious distance as he trailed [...] through the camp until they reached the small bridge over the river.

He halted in the shadows, watching as [...] sat at the edge of the bridge, sighing and gently swinging his legs, his profile illuminated by the moonlight and his hair softly tousled by the breeze.

There was a stillness in the night that seemed to amplify every thought, every emotion Jake felt.

As [...] lost himself in his thoughts, Jake watched closely. He could see the worry on his face, the way his brows knitted slightly as his mind traveled to some distant place. He wanted to approach, wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, but he wasn't sure how to do so without startling him or alerting everyone else.

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present.

[...] found himself lost in his thoughts, replaying a scenario that terrified him: imagining the moment he confessed his feelings to Jake.

In his mind, he saw Jake laughing, pushing him away, and mocking him, shouting to anyone who would listen that "the famous [...]" was in love with him, what a fagg. The scene filled him with a deep fear, a dread he had kept buried for so long.

Suddenly, a gentle touch on his shoulder pulled him out of his reverie. [...] flinched, turning his head to find Jake standing beside him, his face partially illuminated by the moonlight. There was something reassuring about his presence, a kind of calm that seemed contagious.

“May I sit with you?” Jake asked, his voice a whisper mingling with the murmur of the river.

[...] nodded, making space for Jake beside him on the bridge. “Of course,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

Jake sat down next to him, both letting their feet dangle over the water. A comfortable silence settled between them, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be hurriedly broken.

"What were you thinking about? You seemed really startled when I touched you," Jake asked after a while, turning slightly to look at [...].

[...] shrugged, gazing at the river shimmering under the moonlight. “A lot of things. This place, the people, life…”

Jake nodded, sensing there was more that [...] wasn't ready to share at the moment. "It's a good place for thinking," he remarked, gently swaying his feet in the water. “It’s a shame you didn’t bring your camera; the view is beautiful.”

Their conversation began to flow again, touching on various topics like camp activities, their friends’ jokes, and eventually, past relationships. The dialogue flowed naturally, each word filling the space between them with a growing connection.

“Have you ever had a serious relationship?” [...] asked suddenly, feeling curious about Jake’s life.

Jake took a moment to respond, considering his words. “I’ve had a few... encounters,” he admitted with a small smile. “But nothing that really lasted. Life tends to be... complicated.”

[...] chuckled softly. “Yeah, I get that. Relationships can be... tough.”

The conversation continued, drifting towards more personal topics, until [...] posed a question that had been lingering in his mind: “Do you... think it’s true that relationships can exist between two guys?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, and Jake felt his heart race. It was a loaded question, one that could open doors he wasn’t sure he was ready to walk through.

Jake took a deep breath, striving to keep his voice calm. “Yes, I believe it’s possible,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Maybe it’s more common than people think.”

[...] looked him directly in the eyes, his expression reflecting a mixture of surprise and hope. “Oh... And what do you think about that?”

Jake felt [...]'s gaze piercing through him, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. “Honestly, I think it’s something... quite beautiful. I mean, for two men to fall in love... they must know each other well, after all. It’s like a man and a woman falling in love. I don’t think it’s anything out of the ordinary.”

Jake noticed [...]'s smile, and before he could stop himself, he found himself leaning a little closer, drawn to the warmth of that gesture. There was something magnetic about the way [...] glowed in that moment, something that made Jake want to bridge the gap between them.

Time seemed to slow down, and for an instant, everything else faded away, leaving only the bridge, the river, and the two boys sharing a moment that seemed to transcend words.

The sound of the flowing water and the gentle wind brushing against the trees filled the air as Jake continued to gaze at [...], unable to look away from the boy who had captured his attention since the moment he saw him on the bus.

There was something magnetic about [...]; in fact, they both possessed a certain magnetism.

With his heart pounding, Jake decided to take a chance. Slowly, he reached out and gently brushed [...]'s fingers resting beside him on the wooden bridge. The contact was light, but it made every one of his senses intensify. Lost in his thoughts, [...] was surprised to feel Jake's warm touch.

"[...]..." Jake murmured, his voice barely a whisper in the night air.

"Hmm?" [...] responded, turning his head to look at Jake, their eyes meeting in the dim light. He was surprised by Jake's closeness, noticing for the first time how near they were to each other, both physically and emotionally.

Jake swallowed, his mind racing to formulate the question that had been lingering in his thoughts since they started talking. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to kiss another guy?"

[...] froze, heat rising to his cheeks as he recalled how he had been glancing at Jake's lips just minutes before. The question echoed in his mind like a refrain, one he had asked himself on more than one occasion.

[...] took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that suddenly enveloped him. "Well, to be honest, yes, a few times... maybe."

[...]'s answer gave Jake a surge of courage. He took a deep breath, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “Then, would it be wrong if I said I want to kiss you?"

[...] was left speechless, his cheeks burning with an intense blush. He had never felt so nervous, but the idea of kissing Jake, someone who had intrigued and attracted him from the beginning, was irresistible. He nodded slowly, his eyes shining with a mix of fear and anticipation.

Jake leaned forward slowly, closing the remaining distance between them. Their breaths mingled in the cool night air, each heartbeat resonating like a drum in their ears. With one last surge of bravery, Jake closed the gap and pressed his lips against [...]'s.

The kiss began soft and timid, a gentle touch that held all their doubts and hopes. It was a tentative connection, as if they were testing the waters of an uncharted ocean.

As the seconds passed, [...] began to relax, letting his desires take over. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the moment, leaning into Jake and letting his hands explore the contours of the boy with a puppy-like appearance.

Jake responded to [...]'s change, his hands moving instinctively. He placed one of them on [...]'s waist, pulling him closer, while [...] raised a hand to caress Jake's cheek. Their lips moved together, learning, exploring, and with each passing second, the kiss deepened.

The lust they had kept hidden surfaced, desire taking control as they lost themselves in their most intimate moment.

Passion intensified, the kiss transforming into something more urgent, more desperate. Neither wanted to pull away, but eventually, the need for air became inevitable.

They separated slowly, both breathing heavily as they gazed into each other's eyes. Their cheeks were flushed, their hearts beating in unison.

Jake smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That was... something."

[...] laughed softly, still catching his breath. "Yeah... definitely something."

"Are you okay?” Jake asked, a touch of concern in his voice as he ran his hand over the shorter boy's thigh.

[...] nodded, his smile widening. "Yes, I'm doing well. Better than I expected, to be honest."

"So am I," Jake admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I didn't realize this was what I needed until it happened."

[...] looked into his eyes, feeling a deep connection that made him feel safe and understood. "I'm glad you took the risk."

Jake nodded, his smile soft and genuine. "I couldn't resist the urge to test you, [...]."

[...] lowered his gaze, feeling a mix of emotions he had never experienced before. "I never thought I would feel this way about someone, especially here, in this place."

"It's funny how things work out, isn't it?" Jake glanced at the river, contemplating the way the moon reflected on the water. "Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."

They both fell silent for a moment, savoring each other's company and the serene surroundings. It was a moment neither of them had planned, but it felt entirely right.

The night continued on, but they knew that from this moment forward, something had changed between them, something that promised to grow and flourish over time.

[...] and Jake remained silent for a few more minutes, enjoying the calm of the moment, embraced and leaning on the wooden bridge, both aware that soon they would have to return to the cabin.

However, the night air and the tranquility of the place kept them reluctant to move.

Jake spoke first. "We should head back before someone notices we're not at the cabin," he said softly, almost regretting the interruption of their private moment.

[...] nodded, though his heart was still racing from everything that had happened. "Yes, we should."

As they stood up, they both gave a slight shake, as if trying to shake off the tension and emotion between them. They walked back to the cabin in silence, their steps accompanied by the sound of flowing water and leaves whispering in the wind.

As they approached, their steps instinctively grew lighter, as if fearing to break the spell the night had woven around them.

Jake opened the cabin door, pausing to let [...] pass first. The darkness inside was warm and comforting. Once inside, he closed the door softly and began heading to his bed. However, before [...] could reach his own, he felt Jake's firm hand on his waist, pulling him back with a quick, assured movement.

The unexpected contact sent a wave of panic through [...], his heart drumming in his chest. He turned to look at Jake, his eyes reflecting surprise and a hint of confusion.

Jake, with a calm smile, leaned down to give him one last kiss on the lips, soft and reassuring. As they parted, he whispered in a low, seductive voice, "Sleep well, [...]. I hope to keep testing you in your dreams."

[...] couldn't help but smile, the initial fear giving way to a warmth that spread throughout his being. He nodded silently, and they both headed to their beds, still smiling as they slipped under the covers, their minds filled with the night's events.

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The following morning, [...] was the last to awaken. Sunlight streamed through the cabin windows, bathing the interior in a golden glow. At first, he felt disoriented, but the memories of the previous night soon flooded his mind, bringing a sleepy smile to his face.

Looking around, he realized the cabin was nearly empty. His companions had already risen and were likely in the dining area for breakfast.

[...] hurried to get up, tossing his pajamas aside while searching for something to wear. He opted for a sleeveless shirt, shorts, and his flip-flops, knowing that time was of the essence.

With his hair still somewhat tousled, he nearly ran to the dining area, letting the cabin door slam shut behind him. Upon arrival, he pushed open the dining room door and paused for a moment, surveying his surroundings.

The dining area was bustling with life, students and guides eating breakfast, chatting, and laughing. The scene was a joyful chaos, a cacophony of voices and laughter reverberating off the wooden walls.

To his surprise, he spotted Jake and his friends, along with their acquaintances, seated at a table near the window.

Minah, his best friend, saw him and waved enthusiastically, catching his attention. “Hey, [...], come sit with us!”

[...] swallowed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as he walked toward them. He couldn't help but feel somewhat awkward knowing Jake was there, especially after what had transpired the previous night. Minah, sitting next to Jake, made space for him to sit between them.

As he took his seat, [...] smiled shyly, feeling his heart race in his chest. Jay, seated across the table, greeted him cheerfully. “Hey, [...], are you going to have breakfast before the activities?”

[...] nodded, trying to appear more relaxed than he felt. “Obviously, I need to refuel before facing the day.”

Just as [...] was settling into his seat, he felt Jake lean in towards him. His heart skipped a beat when Jake whispered in his ear, “You look so cute in those shorts.”

The blush that spread across [...]'s face was immediate and intense, turning his cheeks a deep red. Minah noticed right away. “[...]! Are you okay? You're all red, are you feeling unwell?”

[...] laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck while trying to act nonchalant. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just... I ran from my bed to here.”

Jake smiled to himself, clearly enjoying the effect he had on [...]. Meanwhile, under the table, Jake's hand reached out to [...]’s thigh, his fingers grazing the soft skin barely covered by the shorts. [...] tensed at the contact, trying to subtly move Jake’s hand away.

But the boy with the puppy eyes seemed determined to maintain the connection, his hand steadfast as a hawk clutching its prey. [...] couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement, his mind torn between moving Jake's hand away and letting it stay.

After what felt like an eternity, Jake finally withdrew his hand, allowing [...] to breathe more freely and focus on his breakfast before the day's activities began.

During breakfast, the conversation centered around their expectations for the day and the activities the guides had planned. [...] forced himself to concentrate on the lively chatter, though occasionally he felt Jake's gaze on him, a constant reminder of what had begun between them.

Eventually, the guides arrived in the dining area, drawing everyone's attention to announce the start of the day's activities. [...] felt grateful for the distraction, though a part of him was already looking forward to the next opportunity to be alone with Jake.

The attraction between them was palpable and thrilling, a promise of something new and exciting on the horizon.

As the guides saw that everyone had finished breakfast, they instructed the campers to follow them outside the dining area. [...] and Minah exchanged looks of anticipation and curiosity as they joined the group heading outdoors.

The morning sun bathed the area in a golden light, revealing an obstacle course stretching from the campfire area to the bridge over the river.

The terrain was dotted with meticulously designed obstacles, including a winding course through the forest that ventured into the river. Each station promised a unique challenge, and the atmosphere was charged with excitement as the students surveyed the setup with bright eyes and nervous smiles.

One of the guides, a tall man with a beard and a resonant voice, raised a megaphone and spoke clearly.

"Attention, everyone! What you see before you is an obstacle course designed to test your speed, agility, and endurance. This is not a team challenge but an individual competition."

The announcement was met with murmurs and nervous laughter. The students looked at each other, some evaluating their own abilities while others simply enjoyed the competitive spirit.

The guide continued explaining the rules of the challenge. "The first obstacle is a swimming race. You will need to jump into the river and swim to the other side as quickly as possible. There, you will find a small box filled with colored balls. Your task is to retrieve one of these boxes and return."

The excitement in the air was palpable as the students visualized the upcoming race. Some were already moving their shoulders, preparing their muscles for the effort.

"After swimming, the second obstacle is the 'belly crawl,'” the guide explained, pointing to a long tunnel made of nets and ropes. "Here, you must crawl along the ground, making sure that none of the balls fall out of the box. If you lose a ball, you are disqualified."

The faster students mentally prepared for the challenge, envisioning how they would keep the balls secure while crawling through the tunnel. The stakes were high, and the tension mounted.

"Finally, upon exiting the tunnel, you will need to throw each ball into a basket situated two meters away,” the guide concluded. “This will test your accuracy and endurance, especially after all the effort. We will award the top three boys and top three girls at the end of the day."

With these words, the guides began to organize the students into groups for the initial rounds. The anticipation in the air was electrifying, and the sound of running water and leaves whispering in the wind created a perfect backdrop for the challenge.

The competition began, and the obstacle course came alive with the energy of the participants. The students plunged into the water, swimming vigorously, their bodies cutting through the clear river. Cheers and applause from the onlookers filled the air, accompanying each stroke and every breath.

As expected, more than a few girls (and boys) devoured with their eyes those emerging from the water. Watching those semi-toned bodies with the fabric clinging to them, leaving little to the imagination, was far more captivating than the competition itself, and Jake was no exception. In fact, he had been anticipating this moment since it was announced that they would have to swim for the first point.

When it was [...]'s turn, he lined up with two other guys, his body vibrating with energy and nervousness. Jake, observing from the sidelines, couldn't tear his eyes away from him. What a surprise.

The whistle blew, and [...] dove into the water with a powerful and graceful plunge. He swam with determination, his strokes strong and steady as he cut through the river. The water parted around him, reflecting the sunlight in golden flashes that highlighted his form.

As [...] swam, Jake felt a growing heat inside him, a sensation that filled and consumed him completely.

His gaze followed the rhythmic movement of [...]'s muscles, the shoulders and back working with each stroke. The soaked shirt clinging to [...]'s body when he emerged from the water made the air seem thicker, and Jake noticed his breathing quickening slightly.

Remember those friends of [...] who were shouting like crazy fans? By this point, Jake was surpassing them. Internally, he was shouting, barking at the sight of the sculpted body he had the privilege of having last night.

Jake bit his lower lip, an involuntary gesture he made when he was nervous or concentrated, but this time, there was also an element of desire mixed in.

[...] was attractive in a way he couldn't ignore-his slender yet strong body, that shapely rear from playing basketball, his strong and juicy thighs, the confident aura he radiated while competing, and the way his hips naturally flared out slightly... damn, he was definitely going to have him as soon as he got the chance, if possible, to take him until that beautiful ass was filled with his thick cum and the almond-eyed boy's mind was dazed from so many thrusts.

The urge to approach and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under his fingers, was almost overwhelming. Jake lost himself for a moment in his own imagination, recalling the kiss they had shared the night before, wishing he could repeat it right now.

Oblivious to Jake's hungry gaze, [...] crawled through the tunnel with fierce concentration. He kept his ball container secure while progressing, his body moving with fluidity and skill. When he finally emerged on the other side, he took a moment to catch his breath before preparing for the final challenge.

Jake felt a surge of admiration as [...] threw the balls into the basket, each shot executed with precision and confidence, thanks to basketball. The cheers from his teammates echoed, and Jake joined in, applauding vigorously as [...] scored one basket after another.

The final moment arrived when [...] made the last shot, securing his place among the winners. The crowd erupted in applause, and Jake felt an overwhelming pride for him. But there was also a palpable desire consuming him, a need to be close to [...], to share more moments like the one they had had the previous night.

When the challenge came to an end and the guides announced the winners, an air of celebration and excitement swept through all those present.

The three winning boys, including [...], and the three victorious girls, received their prizes: handmade medals from the guides, a symbol of their agility and speed.

[...]'s face was lit up with a triumphant smile, his eyes sparkling with that special light that made Jake feel drawn to him and filled with happiness.

When the guides indicated that the winners could change out of their wet clothes before continuing with the

scheduled afternoon activities, Jake saw the perfect opportunity to approach [...], amidst the euphoria and his mind consumed by his erect desire.

He immediately volunteered to bring dry clothes to [...], a suggestion that disguised his true intention.

"Hey, [...]!" Jake called out with an enthusiasm that did not go unnoticed by his friends. "Let me bring you your dry clothes. That way you don't have to go get them."

[...] nodded without much thought, still recovering from the exertion and the adrenaline of the challenge.

"Thanks, Jake. Could you take them to the shower? If it's not too much trouble," [...], replied, drying his face with a clean part of his hands.

As the others dispersed, Jake quickly grabbed a couple of clean garments from the cabin and headed towards the changing rooms, where [...] had already begun to open the shower. Jake felt a mix of nervousness and excitement as he approached, his heart pounding in his chest.

With the dry clothes in hand, Jake followed [...] into the changing room. The cool air contrasted with the lingering heat from the race, and the silence in the space provided an unexpectedly private atmosphere.

[...] began to undress, and Jake watched each movement, the water dripping from his hair and sliding down his skin. The sight was almost hypnotic. The wet fabric clung to [...]'s body, outlining his figure with a clarity that left little to the imagination.

The boy with the dark eyes swallowed hard, rubbing his erection gently against [...]'s dry clothes. His gaze was impossible to tear away from that god incarnated in a mere mortal. After all, masturbating now would be easier.

The proximity between them created an atmosphere charged with tension and anticipation. Jake felt his heart thudding in his chest as he moved closer, his eyes scanning [...]'s body with a mix of hunger and lust. If anyone else had been there, it would have been easy to say that Jake was devouring him with his eyes.

Jake placed [...]'s clothes on one of the nearby walls, allowing him to come closer to the s/c-skinned beauty.

When he was next to him, Jake lifted a hand to rest on [...]'s hip, his thumb drawing small circles on the still-damp skin. [...] shivered at the touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"Jake..." he began to say, but his words were silenced when Jake leaned in to capture his lips in a deep kiss, running his free hand over the shorter one's abdomen.

The kiss started gently but quickly intensified as Jake moved his hand up to [...]'s cheeks, squeezing them slightly and letting his tongue explore the human's mouth, tracing his lips before delving deeper. [...]'s initial surprise turned into acceptance, and he soon responded to the kiss with equal fervor.

Jake's tongue danced with [...]'s, each movement an eager exploration that sent waves of heat through their bodies. [...] let out a moan, his mind a whirlwind of new and exciting sensations.

Pulling away briefly, Jake seized the moment to leave a trail of kisses from [...]'s jawline down to his neck. Each kiss was followed by the soft brush of his tongue, licking the skin with a blend of tenderness and possessiveness.

What began for Jake as a couple of innocent kisses soon evolved into the thought that a small hickey wouldn't hurt, and, fueled by the heat of the moment, he made it a reality.

The boy with the black hair took hold of [...]'s hips with a serious intent, pressing their bodies together to better enjoy leaving hickeys on his neck, collarbones, and parts of his chest.

[...] tried to maintain control, but the pleasure coursing through his body was undeniable. He brought a hand to his mouth, attempting to stifle the sounds that escaped involuntarily whenever Jake found an especially sensitive spot, such as his nipples or his abdomen.

Jake smiled against [...]'s skin, his tongue trailing down [...],'s collarbone again, pausing to lick a drop of water that had accumulated in the hollow.

The salty taste mixed with [...]'s natural scent, creating an intoxicating experience that urged him to continue exploring, to make [...] his own.

Unfortunately, Jake kissed [...] again, slower this time, allowing the moment to linger as his hands continued their exploration, sliding down his back and settling on his waist. The heat between them was palpable, an energy that kept them trapped in their own world.

"It's been a thousand years since I've felt something like this..." Jake murmured against [...]'s lips, his words heavy with emotion and sincerity.

[...] froze for a moment, the words echoing in his mind. It was as if Jake had articulated a feeling they had both been avoiding, a connection that transcended time and space.

"H-how?" [...] managed to ask, his voice a whisper as he tried to grasp what he had just heard.

Jake pulled back enough to look [...] in the eyes, his expression a mix of panic and desire. The intensity in his gaze was undeniable, a reflection of the emotions surging within him.

"It's as if I've been searching for you my whole life," Jake said, his voice trembling slightly from the strength of the feeling.

[...] felt a wave of warmth flood over him, a whirlwind of emotions making him feel alive in a way he had never experienced before.

His heart beat in sync with Jake's, and at that moment, he knew there was something special between them, something worth exploring and having. After all, he had waited 20 years for this.

Jake leaned in again, sealing his lips in a kiss that was both a promise and a revelation. His hands found their way to [...]'s rear, gently caressing and slowly stimulating his entrance, causing [...] to shiver with pleasure.

The sound of approaching footsteps and voices jolted them back to reality. Jake gently pulled away, a smile on his lips as his fingers glided over [...]'s skin one last time before retreating.

"You should change before someone comes looking for us, baby" Jake said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

[...] nodded, his eyes still shimmering with the intensity of what had just transpired. He knew this was only the beginning of something extraordinary, a journey they were destined to embark on together.

As [...] changed, they exchanged one final knowing glance, aware that they had crossed a line that would alter everything between them.

But rather than fear, there was a sense of anticipation and excitement for what lay ahead, a future that now belonged to them.

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ After this story, I feel like I easily made a whole fucking book. My story was deleted like 4 times, I suffered 💔

아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!! <3

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara

#enhypen x male reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙨𝘧𝘢𝘵3ㅤ﹟ㅤ𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽𝖾𝖽.#enhypen scenarios #x male smut #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung x male reader #jake x male reader #x male reader smut #male reader #sub male reader #x male y/n #gay #kpop x male reader smut #kpop scenarios

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oneofthetorturedpoets · 6 months

Note

Can you write a Melissa Schemmenti x reader, which Melissa writes like secret like cute notes to us but like we don't know it's from her and it being like all fluff and stuff please also maneater was sooooo good ❤️😭

melissa schemmenti x reader

(not proofread please ignore any errors 😭)

old fashioned lover.

“i just wish some things were still old fashioned, everything’s online now” you comment as you open the break room fridge “like buy me flowers, write me letters, something real” Janine nods along.

little do you know, melissa is taking mental notes of everything you say.

the first note you got, you thought it was from a student.

you walk into your class room, seeing a folded white sheet of paper on your desk. you opened the little note up.

'you are an amazing teacher, when you first came to abbott, I could tell you were going to make this place better than it has ever been'

you slide the paper into your drawer, smiling at the kind words.

the second note made you assume you had a secret admirer. there was a bouquet of beautiful flowers with the note inside.

'your smile lights up any room you walk into. just seeing you makes my day'

you grab the flowers, bringing them up to your nose to smell them. Barbara walks up to the door.

"you got yourself a special someone?" she asks, knowing very well who sent them.

you turn around, smiling. "yes, apparently. but I have no idea who it is, they aren't giving me anything to go off of"

she smirks. "don't worry, time will tell" her words only confusing you more.

the third note gave you a little hint at who it was.

'the night when we all went to the bar after the last school year ended is forever burned into my mind. your hair was perfectly curled, the outfit you wore bringing out your eyes. every time you looked over at me, my heart jumped out of my chest. it's impossible to not fall in love with you.'

you remember that night, you and the entire abbott crew went out for drinks after completing yet another school year. your secret admirer is between Jacob, Ava, Barbara, Melissa, Gregory, and Janine. there is no way its any of them, Jacob is gay, Ava and Janine are straight, Barbara is married, Melissa is messing around with that firefighter, and Gregory is still in love with Janine.

who the hell is it?

the fourth note made you even more confused.

'I've tried to move on from you, I even got into a serious relationship thinking if I tried to ignore my feelings for you, they would go away. I was so wrong. I felt like a shitty person because I kept comparing them to you. I learned then that no one can compare to you.'

in the break room, you're showing Janine the note. "it has to be someone in our group." she says, you nod. "could it be Melissa? she has been the only one who was in a serious relationship and broke it off?"

you laugh. "no way, she wouldn't feel that way about me. plus she has that one guy. bob? rob? I don't know, I just know she is way out of my league... I wish though, you know how long i've liked her" Janine shrugs.

Melissa, who is right outside the door, heard everything. you liked her back?

it's 8pm on friday, you're on your couch in your pajamas, watching your latest obsession when there is a bunch of loud persistent knocks on your door. "Jesus! I'm coming!"

you get up, running to your door. you open it, revealing an out of breath Melissa. "Melissa? are you okay?" she nods, trying to catch her breath.

"i'm sorry, I just need to get this out. I heard what you said in the break room about your feelings for me-" you cut her off.

"shit. I didn't mean for-"

"don't. let me get this out, y/n. I've been writing those notes for you. I wasn't sure what I was going to do if you found out it was me, I just wanted to make sure you knew there was someone out there who loved you. I never thought you would feel the same about me. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I've loved you." your eyes go wide. not sure what to say, you pull her into you. looking into her eyes for permission. she gives you a little nod. you gently press into her, her lips soft against your.

you pull away. "what about your firefighter guy? weren't you seeing him?"

she shakes her head. "it was one night, just for fun and I hated every second of it." she pulls you in again.

taglist: @natashamaximoff-69 @allamanamedearl @ricejucie @marvels--slut

to join my taglist, send in an ask!!

#fanfic #abbott elementary #fem!reader #my fic #wlw fiction #law #lisa ann walter #request #melissa schemmenti fic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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narutocharacterpolls · 1 year

Text

ROUND FOUR

ROCK LEE vs HATAKE KAKASHI

Reasons for submission under the cut

Lee

ROCK LEE VS GAARA

kind as can be; willing to jump to action to help his fellow comrades even after going through a life-threatening, major surgery

practical and fashion-forward with his bright green onesie. Function over form, and is prepared at all times by carrying around a spare onesie he will give without question to anyone - even complete strangers

has a surprising edge to him at the beginning of the series; he was ready to severely maim anybody that he saw as a genius

more dedicated than anyone. Was forced to face his own mortality and make a life-or-death decision in the name of his dream, after a literal crushing defeat, and he chose to fight for it. Inspiring

embodies the ideals of original series Naruto. True underdog, had nothing going for him, came from nothing with no legacy or powers, was so disadvantaged that he physically could not meet the bare minimum abilities of his peers. But he worked harder than everyone else and proved that he can be a great shinobi despite all the adversity he faced

Sasuke had to copy Lee’s moves with his Sharingan to succeed during Chuunin exams

cute as a button. Come on.

his fans are dedicated and make amazing work, fanart and fanfic

Kishimoto said he was his favorite character to draw. Boom. Favoritism. Love to see it.

pairs well with everyone. Platonic or romantic, Lee has a great dynamic with other characters

his summer outfit from Guardian of the Crescent Moon Kingdom was the best outfit in the movie

gave us Metal Lee! Blessed us with Metal Lee, really

was the character to beat in the early series if you wanted to show how strong you actually are

Gaara vs Rock Lee was one of the most iconic fights in the series, and everyone remembers where they were when they first saw Lee drop his weights. He owned that fight so hard that people forget he lost.

was wronged by the series. He deserves to win as justice.

got [submitter] personally through the worst times; his ability to persevere face of adversity convinced me I could do it too. He wasn’t special and neither was [submitter], but we didn’t need to be. We can make ourselves great. If no one else got me, Rock Lee’s got me

he’s one of the first non-jutsu using ninja so make such a big impact

was the first person to actually harm Gaara

played a huge part in Gaara becoming a better person

he’s one of the only people that can catch up to Sasuke and easily rivals Naruto in Taijutsu

his kind, determined and cheerful attitude is a joy to watch

Rock Lee removing his weights is easily one of the most iconic moments in the entire anime

has helped several submitters feel better by simply thinking about how he wouldn’t want them to think like that

objectively would’ve made a better protagonist based on the themes alone

KICKS MAJOR ASS

wrecked Sasukes shit, I like Sasuke but that was really funny

he looks like a frog. Who doesn’t like frogs

inspired Sasuke

fights are always entertaining, they’re very well choreographed

he forgave Gaara for nearly killing him and nearly ending his dreams; he was never even mad at him

Rock Lee vs Sasuke was iconic

his heart is so full of love

never did anything wrong

had a squirrel befriend him

hard worker

good friend

rises to any challenge

when he does diss people they are the most brutal yet entertaining disses you ever hear

positive, weirdo, energetic, enthusiastic, joyful, chivalrous, motivated, dedicated, sweet

Lee and Neji had something homosexual going on

YOUTH !!!!

Kakashi

relatable as an adult

he is just an overworked guy who was told to watch some kids w LOTS of issues

needs therapy

good presence and guidance in Narutos life

interesting

cares about and is dedicated to his students very much

he is just cool

he is trying his best despite what he has been through in the past

is up for having fun but still knows when to be serious

was a narcissistic shit but grew out of it

has good intentions

sexy

wonderfully complex and well developed character

incredibly resilient and supportive

a sad and deeply broken man

always willing to give his life to protect them and his other precious people

just wanted everything to be ok for once in his life

hated Danzo

his friendship with Gai is adorable

the way he teases Tenzo is fun

he’s known as cool and aloof but in reality he’s a huge dork

Gai would want him to win

#bestnrtcharapoll #naruto #polls #rock lee #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake #id in alt text

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jesswritesthat · 13 hours

Text

Bakugou Katsuki: Model Student

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: 2k+, fluff

• When you’re sent to assist designer Bakugou Mitsuki, you get more than you bargain with both food and explosives.

Warnings: Mature language, slight spoilers, Class 3A

>>>>——————————>

When Bakugou Mitsuki 'politely demanded' that you accept a long term job on behalf of her fashion company you couldn't exactly refuse -not that she'd let you- but like your other modelling contracts, it wouldn't disrupt your hero studies aside from spending your free time at her home. The only unexpected factor, was her infamous son.

"WHO THE HELL IS THIS?"

You practically jumped out of your skin, the measure wrapped around your waist was left unattended as Mitsuki slapped the demanding newcomer upside the head.

"Manners Katsuki! This is (L/n) (Y/n), they're the model for my latest assignment."

"Nice to meet you." You gave an awkward wave, attempting to keep the tape in place as you did so but he did not seem impressed, only scoffing and walking away (regardless of the infuriated scowl his mother painfully engraved into his retreating figure).

"I apologise on his behalf, being apart of U.A's latest Big Three went to his head a bit but he's grown a lot since his first year with everything that happened. Still a moody 18 year old though." The woman forcibly laughed whilst resuming her work. Presumably he was home for the break like you, but worked at an agency to fill the time. If nothing else, this job assignment would be flammable.

—

Despite seeing him on a few visits, tonight’s encounter was the second time you’d actually spoken. Finally you got to rest, you'd tried to help as much as you could once Mitsuki got what she needed from you and she'd urged you to take a break in the lounge to prevent you from helpfully intervening and exhausting yourself.

Luckily, Bakugou was unintentionally keeping you company with reluctant conversation whilst he was cooking his dinner, you meanwhile took residence at the table scrolling through your phone.

"Have you eaten?" His lack of curses made you look up with a skeptical expression but you answered with a shrug, planning to eat once you got home.

"Not yet."

"Just because you're a shitty model, you gotta fucking eat as you don't need to—" Bakugou bit back with the stereotype, similar to that of either scolding or concern - you were uncertain.

"I do eat, I promise."

"Prove it then dumbass."

"Wha-how?" He smirked as he handed you a bowl of curry mid question, the one he'd been carefully concocting as you made idle chatter with him for the past 30 minutes. Almost like he'd planned it. Surely not.

"You didn't have to give me any, but thank you Bakugou. I’ll help clean up.”

"Tch, I made too much and I'm not wasting good food." Katsuki's tone held somewhat defensive aggression but he joined you at the table regardless, listing off ingredients and exchanging food preferences with you.

———

Over the various visits to the lovely Bakugou household, especially if your work with Mitsuki was scheduled when Katsuki was home, you’d usually have a meal prepared for you.

Admittedly you’d grown accustomed to the environment and to him, discussing hero work and exams with Katsuki over food and then helping wash up afterwards.

You’d grown more confident around him having had time to understand his personality, although the second you’d blew soapy bubbles at him you immediately regretted your decision.

You were met with a glowering crimson, floaty suds lingering on his nose, the scar on his cheek, and the front tips of his hair. Then there was the snarl and cocky smirk.

“You wanna go (L/n)? DIE!” It was accompanied by a spark of explosion angled toward the water - in such a trajectory that bubbles coated you like a snowball to the face causing you to huff in frustration to blow a couple off.

Bakugou howled manically at his retaliation, covering his mouth and pointing at you whilst you wiped the suds from your eyes.

“Ugh, take this murder god!” You flicked the remnants left on your hand at him which did nothing in all honesty. Instead a towel was thrown over your face courtesy of the blonde, which you irritably utilised. A string of curses was muttered beneath the material before you’d pulled it off, having believed you got rid of all the substance.

“Dumbass, can’t even beat bubbles.” Bakugou snorted, his gaze not having left you the entire time. “C’mere.”

You hadn’t the chance to refute, stunned by the fingers sliding across your jaw when he’d stepped forward and tilted your head with a hint of roughness that was inexplicably him. His other hand took the towel from your own and began carefully wiping your eyebrow and lower lip with a degree of scrutiny. Then he checked you for further discrepancies with more attention that you felt was required, and in order to hide your imminent flustering you delicately ran your finger across his scar to remove the last bubble there.

“You had something…”

An act that left him meeting your eyes with his own disarming ones, it felt intimate in a way like sparks were flickering alight despite no longer being connected by touch.

Just then Mitsuki burst into the main area, tape measure wrapped around her wrist and a determined gleam in her eye.

“Have you two finished dinner yet?” That’s when she took in the sight before her, you two in close proximity when directing your attention toward her but making no intention to distance yourselves. “…Because take your time, I don’t need (L/n) yet.”

Then she disappeared again, leaving you both alone in the disturbed silence. You took a step back from him wearing a polite smile and gestured toward his mother’s workspace.

“I should probably get back.”

“Hm, thanks for the help shitty model.”

Upon entering, you didn’t expect to be scolded for returning earlier than Mitsuki expected.

“What are you doing?! Get back out there, I didn’t mean to ruin— crap, I mean I’ve never seen Katsuki act— ugh it’s hopeless.”

“I’m here to work, and as amazing as your sons’ cooking is, I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality.” You bowed as accompaniment, but the woman only sighed in defeat.

“Right, of course you’re only focused on the work. Just like Katsuki, how perfectly fitting…”

“Huh?”

“I said let’s finish this fitting!” She clapped her hands with a renewed determination, fabric at the ready.

———

A photoshoot showcasing the reinvented designs was your reason for a quick visit today, arriving at the Bakugou household to meet with the woman herself so you could travel there together.

Naturally, you weren’t expecting her analytic gaze to scan over your outfit with more criticality than usual, which is when you’d heard her contemplate aloud.

"I need to make some adjustments..."

"What?! The photoshoot is in 2 hours and this is all I have!" You gestured to the outfit she'd deemed perfect only yesterday, believing you'd only be heading straight to the shoot and home, you didn't see the need for a spare set of clothes.

Mitsuki shook her head, throwing a discarded hoodie in your direction before shooing you into the bathroom. Upon returning, tugging the hoodie down to cover as much as possible despite the size differences, you handed over your clothes and awaited her return at the kitchen counter with a tea warming your hands.

"Oi old hag, have you seen - what the fuck do you think you're doing in my hoodie (Y/n)?!" Immediately, the sheer ferocity in the familiar tone had you internally screaming and spinning 180 to face him.

"Katsuki! It's not - Mitsuki took my outfit for adjustments and gave me this, I didn't know it was yours!" You corrected yourself knowing he didn't tolerate excuses and skipped straight to the point, though it didn't nullify the death glare he sported.

"Whatever, you don't look like shit in it so just tell me how long she's gonna take because I need it." You missed the flush on his features after he properly looked at you, scanning over your legs which were overly exposed thanks to his item before turning away with a frustrated sigh.

"Yo Bakubro, what's taking so long - ohhh wow." Immediately the interruption had snapped Katsukis attention so fast you expected him to have whiplash.

The guy in question stood rather awestruck, hand running through his spiked crimson hair with an equally bright blush to match as his gaze landed on you.

"Not a fucking word shitty hair!" Bakugou practically threatened, skidding between the two of you with his hand moving to your side to keep you behind him.

"Dude, the others are waiting outside so we're good. I'm Kirishima Eijiro, a friend of Bakugou." Apparently a regular visitor to the house, he offered his hand whilst you sidestepped past Katsuki to meet him.

"Pleasure, I'm (L/n) (Y/n) and I'm here for an assignment with Mitsuki."

"Ah you're the not-so-annoying one he keeps talking about."

"You talk ab—" You never got to ask when Mitsuki hailed your attention.

"Done!"

The next moments happened in a blur, clothes were thrusted into your chest then an echo of voices called for 'Kacchan' who seemed panicked by their entry and shoved you into the bathroom telling you to 'hurry the fuck up'. Quickly you changed, tossing him the hoodie the second you'd cracked open the door, then came the slam from where he'd left with Kirishima after ushering the others out. All you could do was slump against the bathroom door with a sigh of exhausted relief.

———

The final session working with Bakugou Mitsuki, you’d expected it but that didn’t mean you were glad about it. You enjoyed the experience more than most jobs and you could probably chalk part of that down to Katsuki, not that you’d breathe a word of it.

Mitsuki seemed slightly despondent however, always flicking to the front door with a sense of hopefulness but soon morphing to disappointment when it didn’t open.

“What’s wrong Mitsuki-san?“

"Sorry (Y/n), Katsuki was pretty adamant about seeing you before you left so your last task wasn't really necessary but that brat must be too busy." She’d explained with a haphazard shrug, you weren’t even mad that she’d kept longer for no apparent reason due to your surprise that her son had personally wanted to what? Say goodbye? Or rather good riddance.

"Oh - no that's fine, thanks Mitsuki it was really great working with you the past month, and I hope we can do it again sometime. Please send my regards to him."

The sheer amount of wind caught you off guard as you walked through the near deserted neighbourhood toward the station after your final farewells, a faint sound of blasting echoing with a familiar figure abruptly skidding into your path. He still donned his hero gear so you assumed he shot over the moment he was released from his internship, the man now standing proud with his arms folded expectantly.

"What that's it? You're done?"

"Yeah, I have to get back to my internship too. Why?"

You couldn't fathom why Katsuki seemed so disturbed by this, his expression wasn't as aggressive and there was a distinct flash of disappointment in his eyes that he was quick to morph to ferocity.

"I don't have to cook extra anymore."

"I thought that was accidental?" You quipped back, knowing you were already on thin ice.

"Just didn't want you feeling guilty dumbass."

"My hero..."

"Shut up shitty model! You're your own hero, and I'll beat your ass in the ranking once we graduate." He’d growled, leaning closer to you and desperately trying to keep his voice down.

"Such a sweet talker Katsuki, too bad it'll never happen~"

"LIKE HELL YOU'LL—argh?!" The playful punch to his chest quietened him, your confidence and gratitude shining through as you held your fist in place whilst speaking.

"I'm glad I got to know you, I can't wait to work with you in the future."

"You're at the top of my list too - so long as you don't get in my fucking way." A gloved hand took your fist and intertwined his hand with yours like in an arm wrestle, giving it a challenging squeeze.

"Please, you'll be in my way."

The two of nodded in agreement, touch slipping from each other with the last brush of your fingertips feeling like a spark.

Then you were gone, and the fire burned brighter than ever.

———

This was the U.A. dormitories, the sign read 'Class 3A' so you knew you were in the right place but that didn't calm your jittering nerves at all. Yes you'd kept in contact and it was guaranteed that he was going to scold you for showing up unannounced but it remained unknown whether it'd be a serious one or a usual temper flare.

Amping up your false confidence, you walked in albeit hesitantly and your unfamiliar presence was immediately noticed.

"Good evening, oh and welcome - um can I help you find someone?"

"That'd be great, I—" The kindness radiating off of the green haired hero was relieving, but a sudden burst of sparks slid before you rather eagerly which stifled your reply.

"I can do it, anything you need I'm your guy! Kaminari Denki by the way beautiful."

"Kaminari! Don't leave me behind like that - ohmygod you were right, it's the hot model from the magazines. They're so attractive and a hero, what I wouldn't do—"

"Mineta! Stop being - AAHHHH it's (L/n) (Y/n)!" The pinkette squealed wholeheartedly once chastising her classmate.

A clutter originated from the kitchen the moment your name was mentioned, the others hardly concerned with the noise but rather far more interested in you.

"Sorry to show up uninvited like this, but thank you all for welcoming me." Gratefully you bowed to the group, many fussing prior to a harsh interruption causing them to part.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Heeyyy Katsuki..." Your tone seemed more awkward, he noticed the way you went to step toward him but second guessed your situation and took a step backwards instead.

“They know each other?”

“No way, they couldn’t be acquainted.”

Even with the muttering of his classmates, you gave a charming smirk and Bakugou heaved a defeated sigh but made an unexpected proposition anyway.

"I'm starting dinner for these shitty extras, so you should stay (Y/n)."

"Don't I need permission?"

"You think we're gonna argue with Bakugou? He never wants people over - let alone asks them to stay! None of us are missing this." An ecstatic blonde eagerly answered with thumbs up.

"Shut it Pikachu!" Katsuki stalked off in the direction of the kitchen gesturing for you to follow once Mina had taken your jacket. You thanked the pretty pinkette, following his lead when you heard the class collectively panic for you.

"This was the scent on Bakugous' hoodie remember? The one we couldn't pinpoint." Mina whispered to Kaminari, the two concocting rather scandalous explanations but ultimately decided their explosive friend wouldn't have the charm to date a model.

"Noooo, not in there whilst he's cooking. He'll kill you." Sero gingerly tapped your shoulder to halt your journey and you only smiled at him oh so innocently - clearly you did not know the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou.

"I'll be fine, I'll help prepare dinner as a thanks for having me here." The response only earned silent prayers, Mineta literally on his knees praying whilst Izuku released a barely audible squeak.

Inconspicuously, the class subtlety watched as you strolled in, purely intrigued by your unbreakable will to die - yet their discoveries were earth shattering.

"Hey, can I help?" A touch to his shoulder.

"Tch, my cooking not good enough for you anymore shitty model?" An elbow to your side.

"Your food is the best I've ever tasted which is why I want to learn from the best dumbass." The playful teasing which seemed commonplace for the two of you whilst you chopped vegetables.

"I missed you, fucking disaster."

"Well I am rather delightful, it's no wonder~"

"I take it back, you're still annoying as hell." This time his usual uncaring demeanour returned, cold words in tow and it only softened your resolve.

Leaving the vegetables on the chopping board, you carefully leaned into his side with a nudge as a form of embrace rather than hug him.

"I sort of missed you too Katsuki, but sorry for intruding." It was quiet, but genuine, and he couldn't help but reciprocate with his cocky attitude melting away replaced with a content smirk.

"S'fine, glad you did." Katsuki pulled away slightly to face you properly and allowed himself to enjoy the moment, finding himself looking at you like he’d done when covered in soap. Only this time, there were no imperfections to find.

Maybe this time…

At this point, the redhead returned from his evening jog to find the majority of his class crouched down and discreetly peering into the kitchen area with Jirou using her earphone jack to relay the conversation. Kirishima knew Bakugou had decided to make dinner tonight and no one would be brave enough to step foot in there, so the whole ordeal was honestly baffling - that is until he casually walked up to the counter without a care for his furiously protesting classmates attempting to drag him down to their level.

"No way, (L/n)-chan is here?! How've you been, long time no see!" He cheerily called, nodding to Katsuki and yourself who instantly parted from each other and received agonising cries from his peers who were hoping for a token of affection.

"Damn it shitty hair!" Katsuki cussed, sporting a glare appropriate for the self entitled ‘murder god’ whilst you hopped over to the shark-tooth hero equipped with an excited greeting.

"Hi Kirishima! Great to see you again."

“Huh? Was I interrupting something?”

Yourself and Bakugou exchanged a neutral glance, ready to answer ‘No’ but didn’t get the opportunity when a booming unanimous reply of irritation came from the entirety of 3A.

“YES!!”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

#bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #anime x reader #anime imagine #mha imagines #mha x reader #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero x reader

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