#but i open up my little animal crossing front door and the first thing i hear is whooooosh

[hongjoongsart]

Too Sweet | Jeong Yunho

🥃 Summary: Two complete opposites who are quickly falling for each other, one wanting more but the other afraid of all the things that could go wrong.

🥃 Pairing(s): upcoming rockstar!Jeong Yunho x F!Reader

🥃 Genres/Tropes: upcoming-rockstar au, opposites attract au, what could have been, fluff, angst, suggestive, hurt/no comfort

🥃 Warnings/Tags: Fem!reader, no use of Y/N, kinda yunho centric, hurt/no comfort, explicit language, insecure yuyu, use of alcohol, smoking cig, arguments, mingi is a good friend, mention of religion and satan, stereotypes about rockbands, post-orgasm conversations, making out and brief nipple play (f receiving), a lot of crying, not beta read and MDNI!!!

🥃 Wordcount: 19.9K

🥃 Author's note, pt.1: It's been a while....Here's a lil something inspired by hozier's too sweet. The way I have so many drafts for this story in different AUs. I couldn't decide whether to make it into an Idol AU or not, so I did a mix. 😭 It wasn't supposed to be that long either but apparently I have no limits when it comes to writing lmao. Keep in mind that I have little to no knowledge about instruments, rock bands, etc, so everything I know is from given (the anime), KISS and wikipedia. English isn't my first (or second) language, so if there are any errors please do tell.

AO3 masterlist Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent Yunho in any way or form.

The first time Yunho laid eyes on you he knew you’d never be his. Not because of some ancient family feud forbidding you from one another or because you were star crossed lovers in a dystopian world. No, it wasn’t anything dramatic like that. 

You’d never be his because Yunho would simply not let it happen. 

Yunho jumped off the makeshift stage set up in the corner of the saloon that waited on them each Friday night and walked through the drunken crowd of people. The band finished their weekly gig at Crescent and were being treated to drinks by the owner for bringing such a big crowd to the bar. 

Slightly hunched over the counter, left forearm pressing against the smooth wooden surface while the other idly rested on his thigh and feet propped on the footrest, Yunho silently thanked the bartender for the drinks. One for him and the other for his bandmate seated to his right. The drummer brought a lot of attention to them, with his bleached hair styled to get that disheveled spiked look and handful of tattoos and piercings littering his body. Despite the flashy details, Mingi was quite the eye-candy. His thick lips and equally big and straight nose, made him popular with the ladies as well as the men, and not to mention his chiseled jaw. A big pair of shades covered his fox-eyes – he was too lazy to smudge some makeup on – and the miniature face tattoo reading ‘fix-on’ inked on his cheekbone, unlike the big butterfly on his neck that was fully exposed. 

Yunho usually didn’t like sitting at the corner of the long bar, but it provided more space for his long legs and a better view to the rest of the room which, on second hand, he was grateful for otherwise he’d miss the door opening and the group of girls coming through. Each was different from the other, he thought as he skimmed past them only to back track at the last one trailing in.

Staring at you from across the room – a place he never imagined a speck of purity in – he swiveled the drink in hand, allowing the whiskey to swish around in the bottom before tipping his head back and letting some of the brown liquor cascade down his throat. Despite having a speaker right above his head, your angelic laughter still managed to reach Yunho’s ears and it was better than any melody performed by the next indie group. Eyes wandering down your figure, body clad in a white sundress with a pattern of miniature pink roses, he stopped at the heart shaped front giving a little tease of what hid beneath. The fabric hugged tightly around your torso and hips, then widened like a flower in bloom and stopped right above your knees. A gold necklace with a delicate heart pendant rested subtly near the crevic of your chest. Arms and legs bare, only a matching golden bracelet glinting on your right wrists and nails painted in white. You wore the cutest pair of pink ballet flats Yunho had ever seen and it brought a little smile to his face.

“What are you smiling about?” Mingi asked with a teasing tilt to his voice, a brow curiously arched and bottom lip stuck between his teeth.

Yunho shook his head and took another calculated sip of his drink. 

“Nothing.”

“Right, so you didn’t just plan a marriage with the angel-look alike overthere, huh?” Mingi nodded towards the girls who were inching closer to an empty table. “She seems sweet.”

And sweet you were. Oh, so sweet. From your strawberry lip gloss to the notes of your brown sugar and vanilla perfume lingering in the air. Eyes twinkling in the dim lights and nose scrunching before a giggle came out at one of your friends’ jokes, hand automatically going up to cover your mouth.

“Well,” Mingi started and tapped his fingers against the bar, “if you’re gonna shoot your shot about now would be the time to do it.”

On cue you passed the two giants and stopped to the left of Yunho where you could get a clear view of the bartender, and hopefully catch his attention. Being the one to cancel the last outing, you took it on yourself to pay for the first round of drinks as a way of apologizing to the girls even if they didn’t chastise you for it. 

You were prettier up close, Yunho thought as he scanned your profile. Pretty lips, gorgeous eyes and captivating makeup. 

“Hey,” he finally said and slightly turned towards you. 

A friendly smile splayed on his face and ears were slightly red either from his drink or the warmth from the heavily packed bar. Never one to turn down a conversation, you greeted him back with upturned lips and faced the front again. Luck wasn’t on your side as the bartender brushed past you on multiple occasions, eyes filtering over you as if you weren’t there. Not giving up, you let out a huff of annoyance and stepped closer. Standing on your tiptoes – not that you needed it, but maybe then you’d get his attention – and arms crossed over the surface you followed his movements, eyes burning into him but to no avail. The man took order after order and not once did you get the chance to speak up. Yunho, who watched the whole thing play out, slightly raised his hand and the bartender spawned before him in seconds. Lips parted in disbelief, you couldn’t believe how easy the dark haired man made it out to be. There you were, waiting like a dog for a crumb of attention while he got it with a lift of his fingers.

“This pretty lady has been wanting to order for a while now,” Yunho stated calmly, yet his eyes were hard as steel. 

Saying nothing, the bartender turned to you with a raised brow, quietly urging you to spit it out. 

“Two mojitos, one martini and mai tai, please.” As the bartender got to work, you thanked the guy with the helping hand.

“No worries, it tends to get rather busy here on Fridays…That’s a lot for just one lady though.”

“Well, this lady didn’t come alone.”

In any other circumstance, Yunho would interpret the statement as snarky and a telltale of not being interested but your soft spoken words said the complete opposite. 

“Ah, there go my plans of buying you a drink.”

Taking a better look at the man you realized he was quite handsome. Face full of delicate features; a long nose, thin cupid’s bow mouth and eyes soft but dark as the handful of oak trees outside. The smokey makeup fit the whole wanna-be-rock-star-look and so did the ring protruding from the left side of his bottom lip. His mass of black and burgundy hair was ruffled up and parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Blue pants with interesting design swirls fit around his legs and he wore a black sleeveless shirt that showed off his perfectly formed biceps and shoulders. A bunch of silver necklaces hung around his neck and each finger was adorned with one or two rings; some thin and plain, and others thick and covering whole digits. So not only was he handsome, but had a good fashion sense too. All he was missing was the sleeve of tattoos and you’d dub him a real rock star. Eyes crinkling and lips pursing in an almost teasing manner, you decided to take a huge leap of faith. 

“Who’s to say you still can’t?”

The teasing remark indicated you didn’t know he was a member of Blue Bird and it sent waves of relief through him. It wasn’t like he didn’t want you to know about the band, but most people that did only approached him because of it and not his personality. Starting a conversation with ‘fuck me like a rockstar’ quote unquote, wasn’t the best way to get into Yunho’s pants. 

“Perhaps the partner you came with.” 

Yunho’s chin rested against the palm of his hand, brows slightly raised and lips quirked up. 

“Lucky for you, it’s just me and my girlies.” 

“As much as I’d like to crash ladies night, let’s do this instead. I’ll give you my number and you text me when you’re feeling for another drink, on me, yeah?”

Like a moth drawn to a flame, you subconsciously leaned closer to him. Slightly swaying side to side with eyes trained on him, completely missing the entertained look on Mingi’s face who watched the interaction with glee. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d pick a person up from a night out, even upcoming rock stars had needs to quell, but something was telling Mingi you weren’t interested in a quickie in the bathroom. Forever engraving the image of his friend smiling at a girl that was the complete opposite of him, Mingi smiled. Perhaps you were the cube of sugar Yunho needed with his all too bitter coffee.

The second time Yunho laid eyes on you he really wished for things to work out. That despite your differences you’d find a balance solid enough to keep a healthy relationship. While Yunho usually wasn’t a naive guy, his adoration towards you weighed heavier than any rational thought screaming at him to cut the interaction short. Wanting to bask just a little more in the sunlight that was you, Yunho decided – for once – to be selfish.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when you stepped foot in a, you wouldn’t call it a rundown neighborhood but it wasn’t that wellkept either. The playgrounds made for kids were far from eye-catching with the once vibrant colors taken over by rust that even you – an adult – wouldn't try out the rides. The navigation in your phone chimed as you entered a white building identical to the other structures and began climbing the several flights of stairs, re-reading Yunho’s instructions of how to get to his place. Chest heaving and cheeks ablaze, you sent three rapid knocks against the door. One would believe the resident’s surname to be somewhere near but that wasn’t the case as only the apartment number in metal was drilled on the wall beside. The door swung open and you were greeted by a smiling Yunho, the lip ring glinting in the corridor lights.

“Hey, I was worried you wouldn’t find your way here but you’re a pro.”

While you weren’t dressed in a cute sundress, you still looked as sweet with your pink knitted sweater and light blue pants. What really took his breath away were the bright bows in your hair. If you were the sun then Yunho was the moon with his dark bottoms and identical hoodie thrown over the only bright fabric on his body. 

“Now you know not to underestimate me, Yunho.”

Hands thrown up in surrender, he walked backwards as you followed in tow. 

“Consider the lesson learned.”

The apartment was neater than expected – white walls, laminated flooring and a few family pictures hanging here and there – considering it was in the care of two guys and the interior proved that as the living room solely consisted of a sofa big enough for two with a small coffee table in the middle and the biggest plasma TV you had ever seen nailed to the wall. On the brightside there weren’t any dirty underwear or rotten leftovers lying everywhere.

“Well this is my place, or mine and my roommate’s, but still welcome.”

“It looks nice,” you honestly responded and that counted as a victory in Yunho’s books.

“Thank you, obviously I do all the furniture shopping. My friend isn’t all that interested in the interior of the place as long as we have somewhere to sit and sleep.”

The kitchen was shaped in an upside down L with black tiled floor starting from the threshold, the walls were still white. The slimmer and oblong part consisted of black marble counters and the usual mechanics that had a little shine to them telling you they cost a good penny. In the wider part of the kitchen was a round table and a set of four chairs. Black curtains were drawn together yet you could make out an empty balcony through the small gap. There weren't a lot of miscellaneous decorations in the place, as if the apartment was barely in use but to stay the night. Taking a seat by the dinner table, you rested your chin against your palms and smiled as Yunho opened the fridge.

“Ah, is that why there’s a massage chair in the hallway?”

The cold temperature chilled Yunho’s burning cheeks. Collecting himself, he slid you a can of coke and took out the rest of the preparations he needed to make dinner.

“That’s one of Yeosang’s many dumb investments, once again why I’m in charge of the interior.”

“He’s the one with the neon green hair, right?” You recalled as the different faces came to mind. 

“Yup.”

It dawned on you that all of Yunho’s friends were strikingly handsome, but Yeosang was by far the prettiest. With a face of both sharp and soft features he was sculpted better than any ancient Greek statue, and possessed a jaw sharp enough to cut through skin. His eyes were large and dark but with a gentle shape to them, just like his heart shaped lips. A raspberry smudge bloomed by the side of his upper cheek, another pretty and heart shaped detail to his already unique face. His hair was long enough to be tucked behind his ear with some neon green strands falling in his line of sight. This man could very well fit in the Louvre and no one would bat an eye.

The afternoon continued pleasantly as dinner was made. Yunho, who had barely any cooking knowledge, relied on you who relied on an online recipe. Saving you the trouble of accidentally burning down the kitchen, Yunho decided to cut up vegetables and prepare the table while you were responsible for the chicken and ramen that turned out great considering neither having prior-experience of making a real meal. The success was celebrated with a brand new flask of wine that Yunho apparently saved for special occasions, completely dismissing your protests.

“So what does the Yunho do for a living?” 

The question wasn’t foreign to him as everyone back in Gwangju asked it – some out of spite and others with genuine curiosity – yet anxiety seeped under his skin, raising the hair along his arms as his doe eyes widened. Noticing the lack of mischief behind your choice of words, he willed himself to relax and masked the surprised expression with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Considering we barely know anything ‘bout each other…yes.”

Despite having alcohol in your system you noted the hesitation flash across his features, shoulders sagging and fingers slightly clenching around the utensils. It hit you that everything besides his governmental name – and the fact that he lived with a roommate who was working late – was undisclosed. For a moment you entertained the idea of Yunho going under a false name or that you could possibly be on a date with a geondal. Why else would he invite you to his home and not somewhere public? You made a mental note to share your location in the group chat just to be on the safer side. The motion of his hand going to scratch the back of his neck plunged you out of your wild fantasies.

“Okay, but it might come as a shock…or not, we’ll see.”

That did not help his geondal-agenda and Yunho took notice of your sudden silence, quickly waving his hand in a no-motion.

“It’s nothing bad I promise. It’s just…not a normal nine to five job and it’s, well, not many are supportive of it and it doesn’t…pay much.”

The piece of chicken in your mouth wasn’t as satisfying anymore. Thinking it probably couldn’t hurt to know considering he was so willing to share it, you slowly nodded. Instead of giving an immediate answer, Yunho inhaled deeply and ran his hand through his black locks.

“I’m the lead guitarist of Blue Bird with three other guys…and Yeosang’s our manager.” Yunho scratched the back of his head, “I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier but I figured you didn’t know and I wanted to keep it that way so you wouldn’t build an image of me based on what other people say. Now that I’m saying it outloud I realize how dumb that was and quite selfish of me and I’m sorry if that offends you?”

“Oh, oh!  Not that all! It explains a lot actually, I mean I thought you were just dressing as a rockstar but now that I know you’re one, let’s just say it makes sense.”

The sincerity brought him ease and eyes turned soft again. Yunho never blushed but his ears always gave him away, currently glowing red like the organic tomatoes in the cornershop and lips pulled in a gentle smile. The whole exchange was going smoother than anticipated and he only hoped it wouldn’t ruin the friendship you built up so far.

“Plus, it’s not that far from what I had in mind,” you continued.

“And dare I ask what you would guess then?”

“Fine, but you can’t laugh at me for it, promise?” 

Reaching over the table you held out your pinky finger, waiting for him to latch onto it with his own.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

Ignoring the swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you took a sip of the red wine and cleared your throat.

“A body artist.”

Almost choking on his ramen, Yunho coughed and recovered before you could think much of it.

“I think you’ve got the wrong impression. I’m not anywhere near suitable for that job, like I hate the feel of shit piercing skin and I can’t draw for the life of me.”

“Well, I blame the rings and clothes. And besides, what is it really that determines how good of an artist you are? I mean art is a personal thing, just like music, right? Obviously not everyone’s going to like everything you do but it doesn’t mean it’s badly done. So I don’t think it’s a question of how good you are, rather a question of personal taste.”

Speechless. You had rendered him speechless. A few years ago, when Yunho revealed he wouldn’t be applying for college and would try the one in a million chance of becoming a superstar, everyone was against it, claiming that the career wouldn’t last long and he’d eventually return back to Gwangju empty handed (not to mention the claims he was being possessed by Satan). The only one giving him enough support to cover for his absent family was Yeosang, who followed Yunho to Seoul, and now you, practically a stranger he hadn’t even known for more than a few weeks.

As you looked up from your bowl, you were startled at his baffled expression and immediately put down your utensils. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

His heart beat loud in his chest and palms grew sweaty under your curious gaze. Mouth parted as he struggled to answer the question and finally settled on an awkward chuckle. 

“No, it just…caught me off guard,” he assured and quickly averted the spotlight on you. “Enough of me, I want to know more about you. Tell me, what do you do then, is it something more exciting than dancing in a room all day?”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s nothing cool like yours–”

“And I wouldn’t think anything less of you either way.”

Smiling like a thousand suns you said, “I’m a preschool teacher.”

Of course, Yunho thought, even your line of work had to be cute. It was only right for a kind soul like yours to be at a place surrounded by everything innocent and pure. Although Yunho liked performing and singing in front of others, staying awake until the early hours of the morning, perfecting different riffs and learning new pitches of singing, he didn’t like how it added to the growing distance between you. 

“Would you look at that, I think you’re even sweeter now.”

You took a bite of the food as you let the revelation sink in. The compliment getting to your head and warming your cheeks. You had been called every sweet adjective under the sun. Cute, endearing, angelic, the words were a repetitive mantra in your life but hearing them from Yunho made you feel like a high schooler buzzing to jump in bed and just write down the whole conversation – dotting your ‘i’s with hearts and stars – to read back in a couple of years and remember the affection bestowed on you.

Waking up to the motion of his phone buzzing violently beside his head, Yunho groaned and pressed the off button without checking the caller ID. He mentally cursed Mingi for being an early bird and not knowing how to respect others' boundaries. The sun creeped through the blinds in his room, reflecting in the body length mirror and hitting him right in the eyes. Yunho covered his head with one of the many pillows surrounding him. A few seconds later his phone went off again and he gave up on catching some extra z’s. Sitting up, hair messy and face puffy, he rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes and squinted at the bright screen of his phone. The numbers showed 10:03 AM and below was your name followed by a picture of you staring at a sunflower stopping a few inches above your head. Entranced by the image he took of you a few days ago, when he was free from schedule, he startled as his home screen appeared with a message popping up seconds after.

You [10:06 AM] Does coffee sound like a good excuse to spend time together? :P

If there was one thing Yunho cherished more than his bed then it would be coffee. Black coffee that tasted bitter but warmed him up like a cup of hot chocolate. It dawned on him that he only got around four hours of sleep and he needed at least six to function like a guy who gets the recommended amount, but saying no to you was worse than making a kid cry by simply offering a smile.

Yunho [10:08 AM] Do you even need to ask? I’ll pick you up in ten 

Yunho [10:08 AM] Btw you don’t need an excuse to see me ;)

He threw on random clothes scattered around the room, a white shirt and black pants – but not before giving them a few excessively sniffs – and his obligatory leather jacket, the one with fuzz on the inside. Falling asleep with wet hair came to bite him in the rear as the strands wouldn’t cooperate now, refusing to lay down tidely. Lucky for Yunho, nine out of ten times he could just cover it with his helmet. Catching one last look in the mirror he sighed at the dark circles under his eyes. He quickly ventured into his bathroom and dragged the red-ish eyeliner pencil close to his lash line. It looked messy and nowhere near neat as when Seonghwa did it for him but it was alright. If you didn’t sneer at a sweaty Yunho with black liner smeared everywhere then you probably wouldn’t now either.

The sound of his motorcycle echoed through the block and he ignored the dirty looks passed from the elderly women sitting outside. As promised, Yunho was in front of your apartment with a few seconds to spare. He killed the engine and edged the kickstand into position with his left foot. While waiting on you, he unclasped the spare helmet from the chassis of the bike and made sure it was clean. Hongjoong, the leader and bassist of Blue Bird, had yet to get his driver’s license and would catch lift from the other guys which left everyone with a really small helmet in their possession. Yunho just hoped it would fit you.

The sound of someone clearing their voice caught his attention and as Yunho turned the breathe was knocked out of his lungs. He liked to think he was getting immune to the effect your skirts had on him, but no one warned him for the white lacy tank tops especially not when the material was hidden beneath your blue cardigan. Trying to play it off, he thrusted the helmet in your hands.

“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” you started and checked it out. 

Whatever brand it was, it looked cool. You especially liked how it played into Yunho’s rock star style and matched his hair; entirely black with red design stripes going from front to back.

“Are you okay with riding?”

The dirty thoughts were pushed to the far back of his mind as he reminded himself of who he was talking to. You weren’t just a random chick he picked up after one of his shows; figuratively. 

You hummed and stepped closer, your hand hovering over the seat. “I think so. As long as I don’t fall off.”

“As if I’d ever let that happen. Here, lemme help you with the helmet.” 

“It’s fine, Yuyu, you’ve proven yourself a gentleman multiple times and I think I can do this.”

Hearing nothing beyond the unexpected nickname, his brain crashed like a hard disk from overheating. Thoughts a jumbled mess where the only thing making sense was the new abbreviation of his name. Yunho gripped the helmet as if it were a lifeline keeping him from straying away with the tidal wave. The gentle touch of your palm against his brought him back to reality.

“Are you okay?” 

Chuckling like he always did when you caught him being weird, he shook his head and gently pushed the helmet over your own.

“Just a bit tired–” the worried scrunch of your brows stopped him mid sentence “–it’s nothing to worry about I promise. I’ll be back to normal after we get some caffeine pumping in my veins.”

“Were you sleeping? Oh, no, I woke you up, didn’t I? Yunho, I told you to tell me off when practices were running late!”

“And you know I’d never bring myself to do that, I like spending time with you.”

“And I’d rather not have you running on coffee and zero sleep! I could’ve just made myself a cup at home.”

“But then we wouldn’t be here enjoying each other’s company. Now, is this alright? Try shaking your head a bit and see if it's not too tight or too loose.”

You did as told and the headgear barely budged which earned you a thumbs up from Yunho. He then flicked the visor down and you let out a ‘hey’ in protest. Sucking on the inside of your cheek, you gingerly studied him. While he looked sleep deprived he didn’t act the part, and you didn’t know if he did it to keep you from worrying or if he was genuinely alright.

“It’s alright. Not too tight or loose, but listen! The coffee’s on me,” you declared and before he could protest you quickly filled the short silence, “or I’m never going with you anywhere again. I’m serious, Yunho.”

“...Only if you call me that again.”

“Call you what? Yunho?”

“No. The other thing, y’know…”

A smile broke out on your face when you realized what he was implying.

“Yuyu?”

The rockstar whipped his head so fast you thought he’d snap it off his neck.

“Oh, you are mean.”

“No, I just did what you asked me to!”

The inbuilt bluetooth did a great job transmitting your sugary laughter and God was he proud of himself for thinking ahead. He could never get enough of it and it was like music to his ears and it warmed him better than the sun of a summer’s day.

“Put this on.” He handed you his leather jacket.

“What about you?” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m a big boy.”

Yunho helped you mount the motorcycle, giving you tips on how to swing your feet and where to hold so the whole thing wouldn’t fall over. Not that it was possible as his legs were glued to the pavement. 

“And your hands go here.” He grabbed your wrists and placed them around his stomach so your front was flushed to his back. “Don’t be afraid to hold on.” 

The contact had your face burning and you wondered if he was anywhere near as flustered. You wondered if he was always this touchy or was it some exclusive treatment. 

The local coffee shop you frequently visited or stopped by before your shift at the preschool wasn’t packed, which came as a surprise considering it was almost lunch hour but nothing you complained about.

“Okay, what are you getting?” You asked and gazed up at the oversized menu on the wall behind the workers. 

Maybe you’d get a strawberry macchiato or a caramel one, you couldn’t decide– oh, the matcha tea didn’t sound too bad either. Yunho hummed in fake wonder with his eyes trained on an oblivious you. He didn’t need to read the menu to know what he was getting.

“I think I’ll take a caramel macchiato, I mean I had the strawberry one last time so it’s only fair I try something else now,” you argued mostly to yourself and like your coffee choice, Yunho found the rambling to be cute.

“That makes sense but I don’t think there are rules for what you can drink and when you can drink it, sweetpea.”

Toes touching the wall and hands holding the counter for support, you tilted your head backwards and looked Yunho right in the eyes. The top of your head barely grazed his chest and he restrained himself from gently grabbing your hips. You were slightly taken back at the pet name that rolled off his tongue. You expected a lot but not that.

“Sweetpea? That’s a new one.” 

“I figured you’ve heard most of them so I wanted to try something new.”

Trying to keep your eagerness on the low you stifled a giggle. 

“Ahhhh, you wanted to stand out, is that it?” 

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak my truth, I guess I’ll just have to call you something cheesy like petal or sweet cheeks.”

“If it makes you feel better, no one's called me either of those things, Yuyu. So you’re doing a good job at both standing out and being cheesy.”

The tips of his ears burned and Yunho internally groaned as all his thousand good comebacks flew out the window, and right when he thought he was going to embarrass himself the barista – unintentionally – swooped in and saved the day. 

“Welcome to Star’s Coffee, are you ready to place your order?”

Jumping abruptly from Yunho, you politely smiled and nodded.

“Yu–yes. I’ll take a caramel macchiato”

“Will that be hot or iced?”

“Iced please, and then we’ll take a…” 

“An iced americano,” Yunho quickly filled in, “Black with no milk, thank you.”

As agreed you swiped your card and paid for the drinks even if it hurt Yunho’s pride. Deciding to sit at a table by the window, he quickly ran ahead of you and pulled out a chair and beamed brightly. It fit right in with the other chivalrous gestures Yunho spoiled you with and while you weren’t used to being pampered, you could totally get behind it. Before he could occupy the seat across from you, the barista’s voice stole the spotlight as she called out your orders and he was already walking in her direction.

“A caramel macchiato for m’lady and an iced americano for the fine gentleman keeping her company.” 

You looked up at Yunho and thanked him through a giggle as he handed you the beverage. An identical paper cup was cradled in his hand, fingers wrapping all the way around and nearly making it as if he was holding air. He occupied the seat across from you and as he got comfortable, you jokingly raised the drink and smiled as the cups bumped against each other. Taking your first sips together, you waited for the sweetness to hit your tongue and cringed at the strong metallic taste that followed instead. 

“Oh, God that’s sweet,” Yunho exclaimed as the heavily sugared coffee exploded in his mouth. 

“And this is horrible! How can you, ugh– How can you even drink this? It’s strong and bitter and give me back my coffee!” 

“Coffee?! That’s like unicorn piss mixed with water and sugar, how can you drink that is my question.”

“At least it doesn’t taste like something straight out of my grandma’s garden,” you bit back and tried washing out the dirt-ish flavor with extra big sips of your so-called unicorn piss coffee. 

Spoiler: it didn’t help.

“I don’t get it,” Mingi voiced from beside Yunho, fingers quickly fiddling with the joysticks on his Xbox controller.

The drummer looked nothing like on their nights out. Face bare from makeup and his usually gelled hair was combed and took on the resemblance of a cloud. Instead of skin tight clothes he had a worn out Fall Out Boy shirt he bought a few years back and paired it off with some loose fitted pajama bottoms. His neck and fingers were bare from kilos of jewelry, it was just his colored nails and chest tattoo that were still there. Yunho took ‘bare’ to another level as he walked around in his underwear and just a pair of Spiderman socks.

The boys sat on the sofa which was barely big enough to fit both of them, knees touching and eyes glued to the TV-screen. The gaming session had been running for at least an hour or two and the street outside Yunho’s apartment was slowly being emptied of cars and people.  Yunho would soon have to start getting ready for the dinner he invited you out to. Reservations were made at a little pricier restaurant for people with enough money to be deemed important or idols and celebrities who wanted some privacy from the prying eyes of locals and camera lenses. Yunho obviously didn’t have the money for it but with a few pulled strings and a call to his friend in the fashion industry, he made it work. 

“What don’t you get?” 

The question came a few seconds later and it wasn’t anything Mingi paid attention to as they were both occupied with protecting their base from demons and gargoyles. 

“Why you don’t just ask her out. You’ve been hounding her for like, what? Four months now?”

“I haven’t been hounding after her,” Yunho argued, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a sneer.

“Dude.” 

Pausing the game Mingi turned to his childhood best friend and the guy had the audacity to stare back at him with an equally deadpanned look.

“What? I haven’t.” 

“Don’t what me, Yunho. Is this thing serious or are you just having fun because from what I understand she’s not a one and done type of girl, is she?” 

Almost as if defeated, the lead guitarist slumped back against the couch and sighed. Mingi was right, you weren’t just a girl he picked up from a nightclub hoping for a quickie that would leave him waking up to an absent space the morning after. You were a girl who liked to take things slow. Three dates and maybe on the fourth one you’d reward him with a peck on the cheek. If he was lucky you’d hold his hand as you walk side by side, slowly unraveling each other’s preferences. Early bird or night owl, cats or dogs, sunrise or sunset, the list was endless and he’d know more about you than his own best friend by the end of the day. 

Gigs, parties and one night stands were fun. It was a fast life that made him feel alive, like he had a purpose being on stage besides signing autographs for random people or finding a minimum wage job. Then he met you, the girl with the pretty bows in her hair and an unhealthy addiction to strawberry flavored pocky rather than his cancer sticks, and realized you brought him that joy too. Through the jokes you could barely get out between your giggles or your affectionate yet worrisome words reminding him to drink two glasses of water for every cup of coffee he poured. And it was always a pleasant surprise waking up with you knocking on his door, a freshly baked batch of brownies in hand as you bid him a good morning despite it being three in the afternoon. It was the small things Yunho liked, but also despised, because if you were everything good – the white marble in his sack of charcoal – what was he?

“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answered.

“Don’t know if it’s serious or…?”

“I don’t know what I want. If I want a serious relationship or just someone to pass time with, and I know how that sounds; it’s fucking awful, and she doesn’t deserve that nor would she be up for it either. She dates to marry, and well, let’s be honest here I’m not the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with anyway.”

Yunho pressed ‘resume’, seemingly putting a stop to the conversation he wasn’t currently in the mood for. A conversation he purposely avoided every single time Mingi questioned his lack of action with the exact words of ‘put a ring on her finger, man'. And it was funny the first three times then it just became a walking reminder of why Yunho precisely didn’t do it. Having had enough of his friend's stupid antics, Mingi stood up and parked himself in front of the TV. Hands on his hips and bottom lip jutted out.

“That’s bullshit, Yun. I get being indecisive. Your last serious relationship was ages ago and it’s weird going from being single to taken in one night, but the thing about not being the one for her? Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Growing agitated himself, Yunho paused the game again and tossed the controller onto the sofa as he looked up at Mingi with tired eyes.

“Yeah, what good can I bring her? Tell me, Mingi. I’m nothing. My sleeping schedule is fucked and I work more than twelve hours a day for a minimum pay. If it weren’t for Yeosang’s parents I’d practically be living on the street. I eat take out for breakfast, lunch and dinner and have no college degree and probably won’t be getting one anytime soon. She’s educated, has a respectable job and lives a healthy life that won’t coax her into bad habits. She shouldn’t be associated with someone like me. It isn’t ideal for her to be with me, it’s not safe.”

“Oh my God, would you shut the fuck up?”

Yunho startled at the sudden raise in tone, not expecting Mingi to get so worked up over nothing. 

“What does that even mean; too good for you? Yunho, dude, you’re the most selfless guy I know. You’re a kind, funny and quick witted gentleman who cares about those around you and always tries to make everyone smile, even if you’re going through shit yourself. So if you aren’t worthy of her then I should just stop looking for a partner all together! We are going to be rock stars, yeah, people look at us like we’re out of our mind or worship Satan, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of living like a human. And don’t even start with the homeless shit. I’d never let that happen…”

The little speech slapped Yunho across the face and only Mingi’s heaves of air resonated through the apartment. The two rarely got into arguments and while this conversation wouldn’t be jutted down as one, it still left Yunho at unease. Usually being the one to reprimand his friends, he didn’t know how to act while on the receiving end. Especially not when it was Mingi – the softie who took hours to eat a slice of bread and liked being called a princess – beating sense into him. 

“It’s true she’s good for you, Yunho, and I doubt she’d stay around if you weren’t good for her either. She’s kind, not gullible.”

On the other side of town you sat before your vanity mirror and carefully applied make up. Yuqi sat on your bed, fingers hastily scrolling through social media apps and updating you about the recent gossip at her workplace.

“I can’t believe you’re not telling me anything about this mysterious man!” Yuqi exclaimed from your bed, legs in a pretzel position and fingers frozen mid air as she stared at the picture you airdropped her. “And the fact that I only now find out you’ve been seeing someone, that hurts you know!”

It wasn’t intentional. You knew if you told them a super cute and handsome man asked for your number, they’d rush right up to the counter and harass any guy who fit your description which, admittedly, only a few did. After the long night out you were all tipsy and too focused on getting everyone safely home that the handsome stranger was pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten until the next day when you woke up to a message from an unknown number. 

Everyone was so caught up in their lives that you hadn’t thought of telling them about Yunho, then the whole rock star-identity was revealed and you certainly couldn’t tell them about him after that – already knowing what they thought about guys like that – not even your best friend who with just one glance knew something was different. Not necessarily bad, but just different. The outline of two massive hearts reflected in your eyes and you wore a smile so wide she thought you won the lottery, she didn’t stop to think the reason behind your gleeful expression could be because of a man. Not that you were an untouched woman, you had done a few things here and there, but because you were selective with your partners. So to hear you gave away your number and meet up with Yunho on multiple occasions piqued her interest.

“I told you it wasn’t on purpose! We were just both busy with work,” you pouted and applied mascara to your eyes.

“I know babes I’m just messing with you.”

Yuqi slumped back on your bed and tapped open your Instagram following list, quickly trying to find the guy you had been ‘unintentionally hiding’ from her.

“Are you like a thing now?”

“No or at least I don’t think so.”

Abandoning her search at your words, Yuqi put her phone down and stared at you through the mirror.

“What do you mean? Either you’re or you aren’t.”

“Well we haven’t really talked about that sort of stuff. When we go out we just let the conversation flow and I mean, it’s not like he’s explicitly asked me out on a date-date. And neither have I, for the record. We just go out for lunch or dinner, sometimes coffee, like we do with the girls.”

There was also the fact that he was going to be a rock-star who didn’t even have time to wipe his ass, let alone be in a relationship.

“Yeah, but I don’t invite you to my house and cook you an expensive dinner with expensive ass wine.”

“No, you’d rather tell me how you’d take me then and there if you weren’t painfully straight.”

She waved her hand in dismissal and pushed up to sit on her knees. “Guys don’t just do all those things if they aren’t interested, babes. You know that, you’ve dated a hundred guys before.”

“Yeah, but this is Yunho and not one of my previous dates. Maybe he just wants to be friends, like permanently.”

“You are insufferable. The guy likes you! I mean, you’ve already gone on a hundred mini-dates so this doesn’t come as that big of a surprise but why the hell would he ask you to dinner – only giving you the instructions to dress accordingly – on a Friday night if he absolutely wasn’t smitten with you?”

You sighed and closed the eyeshadow palette. In the softest voice possible you whispered out, “To get in my pants…” 

“Oh, sweetie.” 

Yuqi was up in seconds, throwing her arms gently around you and caressing the flesh of your biceps. 

“Guys are douchebags and I can’t say for sure but what you’ve told me about Yunho, he doesn’t sound like the type to do that.”

“I know but then I start thinking about the what’s and the if’s and it all leads back to that one thing. It would be easier if he just said what he was thinking and feeling out loud.”

“Considering you guys haven’t talked about more serious things, you don’t know each other on that level. You don’t know what’s going through his head, if he’s been wronged before or is scared of commitment, bubs. Maybe he’s scared you don’t feel the same and is trying to play it safe, waiting for a sign that indicates you want more.”

Or maybe he was scared of what his bandmates would say, what their little group of fans would say. Maybe he wasn’t interested in girls like you at all, mayne he was drawn to the…flashier ones who were there for a good time and not a long one. A small sliver of you hung on the hope that it didn’t have to mean anything. That not all rock stars were up for that dirty and fast life.

“I baked him my specialty,” you pointed out, that alone was enough to tell him how you felt without vocalizing it.

“And I’m sure the brownies were delicious, bubs, but he doesn’t know they are reserved for special people, now does he?”

You shook your head and the frown that followed really didn’t suit your dolled up face. There was no time to sulk as Yunho would be arriving in roughly half an hour, but the thought of your intimate gesture flying over his head as friendliness set a bitter taste on your tongue. The thing you could think of to be more obvious was to decorate the dessert with swirls of chocolate reading out ‘I like you’ and while it would be a cute way to confess, you weren’t that confident.

“Enough sulking,” Yuqi suddenly declared and pulled you up by your wrists. “What are we wearing, huh? Are we going for something bold, something that will give poor Yunho a hard time keeping his thoughts in check or are we leaning for a more cutesy approach?”

By the way your lips curved up in a smirk, Yuqi knew exactly what you were going for.

The nerves danced across Yunho’s skin as he aligned the bike with the curb outside your apartment. He stole a quick glance up at your window and sighed. This would be the closest thing to a date and he wanted to impress you, so in good ol’ Yunho fashion he planned ahead. First he’d treat you to a tasty meal at one of the best restaurants in the city, dessert was a given so that would be the next stop and if the night didn’t turn too cold maybe he’d decide on a quick stroll across the Dongho Bridge, but not until he knew what the weather would be like, it was still late February. Otherwise a quick ride through town wasn’t a bad idea either but it left no space for the little things like hand holding, unless he wanted to jeopardize your safety.

Yunho sent you a short message, notifying his arrival and leaned against his motorcycle. There was a slight breeze in the air and the weather wasn’t too hot indicating the approaching end of winter, and Yunho wondered whether to scratch the promenade from his plans. Too caught up in his own mind he missed the apartment door swinging open as you sashayed out, head held high and purse in hand.

The click-clack of your boots snapped Yunho out of his daze and eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at your appearance. The cutesy pastel colored clothes, bows and lace were replaced with something out of your usual wardrobe; a short black dress that clung to your body like a second skin. The hem made it to mid thigh and Yunho just knew it’d ride up even shorter when you’d sit down. The dress was backless and left your shoulders exposed while the front accentuated your chest. You looked hot and you’d be even hotter with his leather jacket on. Your designated heart necklace was still in place and you paired it off with small golden hoops. A pair of leather boots reached up to your knees, revealing a snippet of glowy skin (thanks to your body lotion).

“You look good,” you said and smiled, lips painted a deep red and Yunho imagined the trail of kisses it would leave on his neck.

Clearing his throat, he cast a look at his own attire and chuckled. He too was wearing something out of his usual closet. Instead of ripped jeans and a fishnet shirt, he borrowed one of Mingi’s old high school suits that still miraculously fit. He looked sharp and important, something Yunho wasn’t all that used to, but it balanced it out with his scarlet helmet and motorcycle.

“Well, I couldn’t let you take all of the spotlight, now could I?” 

Dressed as a couple even the universe rooted for you to snap the translucents restraints of fear.

“Before I forget.” He snatched the single rose tucked neatly between the windshield and handlebars of the bike. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

Day met night as you reached for the flower, fingers brushing against Yunho’s. You smelled the red petals like the main girls do in movies but with a real smile that their fabricated ones would never reach. When Lord Byron claimed chivalry was dead he didn’t take count for men like Jeong Yunho. Men who bought their dates their favorite flowers after mentioning it one time in passing, men who gave up their jackets when a light breeze swiveled through town or men who never let their eyes wander from one diamond to another. While the acts were nothing of a grand gesture they still sent squeezes of affection straight to your heart. Taking it as a sign of the stars aligning and sending a normal guy your way for the first time in what seemed to be forever, you allowed yourself to relax and follow the stream.

“Right when I thought you slipped up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Like always Yunho helped you with the helmet and to get on the bike, and heat pooled beneath the skin of your cheeks as you huddled closer to him. Your legs were glued together and slung over one side of the motorcycle, and Yunho promised he’d drive slow so you wouldn’t fall off – as if that was ever going to happen – with the order that you hold on tight. The thrownless flower was in your hold as you reached around him. He patted your hand twice, the mute signal that he was starting the engine. Throughout the whole fifteen minute drive, Yunho refused to disclose the name of the restaurant, arguing it would ruin the suspense and feigned hurt when you said he hadn’t even planned anything. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

With your arm looped through Yunho’s, you approached a tall building that reminded you of a hotel and just the exterior had you gasping, fingers pressed to your lips. The outside was sculpted with details from ancient Greek architecture. Marble columns pushed out from the black walls as pediments marked the beginning of the second floor. The rest of the building changed hues from black marble to beautiful cream colored bricks full of golden rimmed windows and black balcony railings with swirls and fleur-de-lis. You walked the little path leading up to the double doors and suddenly the pavement underneath turned soft and drowned out the click-clack of your heels. The carpet underneath was a rich red and you were curious how they kept it nice and clean from rain and other mud. By the entrance stood an elderly man dressed in a neat costume, his white gloved hand already pushing down the golden doorknob at the sight of guests and greeted you with kind eyes. 

Your whisper of Yunho’s name tugged at the corners of his lips and he wanted to tell you that there was more, keeping his excitement at bay he reached and patted the hand clutching his elbow. Allowing Yunho to guide you, he stopped at what seemed to be a reception where a young lady with a bright smile and red lips waited.

“Welcome to the Red Ruby.”

Completely lost in the details of the place, you didn’t bother tuning in on the brief exchange. The inside was even prettier, you came to realize. It was a small space not much bigger than your living room but probably held more worth than your whole apartment. A big chandelier hung in the center of the room that reflected against the black and white tiled floor. The left side sported a big entryway that led to a big dining area. Its primary colors ranged from red hues to matte gold. Further inside you made out a few tables draped over with long tablecloths and exquisite centerpieces bigger than your head. The chairs were big and soft to the eyes, made out of the finest velvet material you ever borne witness to.

“Thank you. We have a reservation under the name Jung Wooyoung.”

If you weren’t so mesmerized by the place, you’d give him a weird look and ask about this so-called Jung Wooyoung.

The lady scrolled through her tablet and smiled as she came to a halt. “Of course. The elevator will take you to the upper floor and my colleague will further assist you. Have a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you,” Yunho replied once again and gave you a soft tug, finally catching your attention. 

“Are we not sitting there?” You nodded towards the majority of people who were happily dining and conversing in the red room.

“Not quite. Only specific people are allowed in the Red Ruby, besides those seats don’t require a reservation and it’s a lot more open than where we’re sitting.”

Specific people meaning celebrities, actors, important people. Not locals like yourself. The ding of the elevator cut the conversation short as the doors parted and for the second time in ten minutes, you gasped. Flashing lights of the outside world stared back at you through the windows stretching from the floor to the high ceilings. Blue and purple hues of the night sky blended with the fading orange color. As the sun was slowly setting, the moon made its appearance with smaller stars dashed across the dark blue canvas, shining brighter than any streetlight and airplane. The view resembled a watercolor painting and its beauty couldn’t even be captured with the most developed camera.

As promised, another worker – a man not older than yourself – waited by the doors wearing a maroon red suit that was adjusted to his precise measures, a towel thrown over his forearm and hair slicked back with gel.

“Reservation for Mr. Jung?” He asked and Yunho nodded. “Right this way. My name is Sieun and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

The second floor – what you soon came to realize was actually the twentieth – was a stark contrast from the dining area downstairs. The whole outerwall consisted of just windows with an overview of the heart of South Korea and the interior took on more of a modern design with black and white colored seats, marble tables and crystal chandeliers that did little to lighten the room. The floor was pipsqueak clean and you could even see your own reflection in the black tiles. Instead of flower bushes, literal trees popped out every now and then and you couldn’t figure out if they were real or manufactured. Mouth open and eyes wide you were at a loss for words as the waiter led you to a table further away from the other guests. Two menus bigger than your head laid neatly on the surface and the waiter left with a promise of someone coming back to take your orders. 

“This is beautiful,” you exhaled, eyes glued to the lively city below. 

“Right?” Yunho smiled, chest exploding with warmth and pride. 

While you were occupied with watching the ant-like people and shimmering stars, Yunho stared at you as if the view outside wasn’t anything special. And it wasn’t, not with you sitting there looking breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Personally, I prefer their food over any other restaurant. Their yakisoba is the closest thing I’ve tasted to what they have in Japan.”

“I have no doubt, their water probably tastes like heaven, too. I mean did you see that crystal fountain, in the middle of the room?”

Yunho chuckled at your words and it tore your eyes from the windows. “I can assure you their water is just normal tap water.”

As you opened your mouth, Sieun came back and the ten minutes of thinking were up.

“Are you ready to place your orders?”

“Yes, please.” Yunho closed his menu despite not taking a look inside. “We’ll take a full course dinner with your evening's specials, that way we can try a little bit of everything.”

“Of course, sir and in the meantime would you like anything to drink? If I may propose one of our finest wines, perhaps?”

Eyes on you, Yunho quirked a brow letting you decide. Picking up on the memo, you cleared your throat and agreed to the proposition. Sieun nodded and bowed politely before venturing back to the culinary side of the restaurant. 

“This will cost you a fortune,” you sighed and fiddled with your fingers. “And I don’t know what you thought but by the looks of the interior, the food’s probably a month’s worth of salary, my salary.”

Yunho laughed at that. As if he’d ever let you near the bill, let alone split it.

“Don’t think about that, let's just enjoy it and I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Yunho,” you began, leaning forward and mustering up your biggest puppy eyes that he was quick to shut down.

“I know you’re worrying, but seriously don’t. It’s a favor I’ve asked of my friend so it won’t make a dent in my wallet. Besides I wanted to do this for you, okay. Something nice.”

“But why?”

The overwhelming feeling to reach over the table and place his palm over yours was stronger than anything pull he felt before, but he kept it glued to its current position and flashed a smile that made his cheeks pop and eyes crinkle.

“Because it’s what you deserve.” 

Preparations for upcoming gigs and events were truly draining him. Practices started early in the morning, hours before the sun peeked over the horizon, and ended after the moon was high up in the sky. It left barely any time for the Blue Bird members to indulge in their own interests. Yunho wanted to spend as much time with you as but it was quite difficult as your schedules didn’t align, mainly because of his impractical working hours. Instead of going out for lunch or dining in grandiose places you couldn’t afford without giving up a kidney on the blackmarket, you opted for quick coffee breaks and late night drives to vacant places; the beach, some random hill with a great view of the city, a kids’ playground.

The clock was well past midnight and your eyes were surprisingly wide open, brain awake and ready to run laps around your apartment. How you’d survive the morning shift was beyond you, but with the faith that it wasn’t anything an extra spoon of sugar couldn’t fix, aimlessly continued counting each bump on your popcorn ceiling, willing the time to move faster for something – someone – to happen. Days off were spent alone in your apartment reading books to rid of your boredom but every once in a while you found yourself yearning for even the tiniest interactions with a certain puppy eyed man who also happened to be a future rock-star carrying a calendar with all three-hundred and sixty-five boxes marked. Maybe that’s why you didn’t hesitate at his sudden offer of going for a late night walk to buy slushies; his treat as the message read.

“I’m surprised you were still awake.” Was the first thing Yunho said as you ventured out of the apartment complex. 

You pushed the black beanie further down on your head and by the creases around your eyes Yunho knew you were smiling hard beneath your white scarf. A breeze blew through the neighborhood and that white hoodie of yours looked to do little against the chilly night. Yunho pondered if he should wrap you up in his leather jacket or clasp your hand in his – if daring enough, maybe even braid your fingers together – and hide them in the pocket of the black material. 

“What? I don’t always sleep early…” 

The sprinkle of sulk to your words squeezed his heart affectionately and he imagined a little pout to your look, head free from his previously temping thoughts.

“No, but you never stay awake to see the clock change from PM to AM.”

“Hey!” 

Yunho moved away as your arm swung in his direction. Chuckles bubbling out of him as he jogged ahead of your punches, they barely did any damage anyway but it was endearing to see you run after him.

“I’m kidding, kinda.” 

“Where are we going anyway…Won’t your friends worry?”

“Not really, I mean even if they did it’s not like we’re doing anything illegal. We’re just getting some slushies.”

Your face scrunched together like you bit into something sour and lips set in a thin line. While you enjoyed Yunho’s company more than you wanted to admit for your own mental health, you also despised it. There was something so gut wrenching about not being able to hold his hand as you walked down the streets of Seoul or adjust his unruly strands of hair after a stronger gust of air messed it up. The worst thing about it all was that his future image was the last thing holding you back, it was the fact you weren’t anything but friends.

“So, what have you been up to today? How was work?”

“It was alright, a bit annoying with the pollen season having everyone act up and sneeze every five minutes but it’s nothing I’m not used to and the kids are cute so it evens it out. What about you, I thought practice wouldn’t be running later than eight?”

It wasn’t supposed to but in the last quarter someone suggested a change in the performance with an added solo, and the three hours of practice were done in vain as they had to re-learn the most important part. Yunho loved his members, his brothers, but they sure could get on his nerves at the most unexpected time. Safe to say the sudden change in Yunho’s demeanor had everyone on edge – despite him not trying to show it – and they were diligent in their learning. It still didn’t stop Hongjoong from having a talk, or a check-in as the leader liked to call it, with Yunho. After some brief but believable words of assurement he was off the hook like nothing. Yunho was lucky he roomed with Yeosang, their manager, and not with Hongjoong. The lead guitarist would never leave the apartment without the elder breathing down his neck. Yeosang was more laid back like that, keeping to himself but still indulging in Yunho’s interests every once in a while and simultaneously taking care of him in his manager role.

“Yeah, no, we had to change up the performance so we were running later than expected…It’s crazy that after all these years it still surprises me that practice doesn’t end on time.”

“I think that’s just wishful thinking, everyone has it Yuyu.”

“What’s your wishful thinking then, sunshine?”

“Well wouldn’t you like to know?”

A laugh skipped through the chilly march night. The smug words he once threw at you long before you knew who he was coming to bite him in the rear; cutie-pie style. Eventually the all too familiar corner store – in which you spent way too many mornings contemplating between choco-chips and strawberry pocky – came to view and the conversation dissolved. The young boy behind the counter paid you no mind, sleep evidently tugging at his eyelids as he barely kept upright in his chair. Working in tandem you separated like the branches of a tree, one pouring up the slushies and the other filling a basket with snacks. 

Despite how much Yunho disliked seeing you reach for your wallet, he couldn’t do anything about it – as you argued it to be unfair if he paid for it all – and settled with a mental note lingering in the back of his mind to pay you back. Plastic bag in hand and card tucked back in your wallet, you slowly walked towards the exit.

“I’ll take a pack of red Marlboros, too.” 

Out of all the facts about Yunho this was the most surprising one, followed right by him being in a rockband and never having watched Twilight. You stepped out in the open with Yunho close behind, the outline of the pack in his pocket and a slushie in each hand, one brown – seemingly coca cola flavored – and the other a pretty mix of blue and red.

“Thank you,” you murmured as he took the bag from you in exchange for the drink. 

“Come on, let’s go somewhere away from the street.” 

Yunho’s hand hovered over your lower back as you turned into a random street with different local restaurants and stores, all closed at this late hour much to your pleasure. The further you went, the fewer shops there were and more houses instead. The neighborhood was on an uphill path leading to the top of the mountain and soon a set of stairs popped out of the sleek pavement making it easier to venture by foot. To break the silence settled over you, Yunho first slurped on his slushie.

“Everything alright?”

The question worked as a needle breaking the layer of a balloon, bringing you out of the bubble you were stuck in. 

“Hmmm, yeah I was just lost in my thoughts.”

“Are you tired? We can walk back home if you want.”

“No, no! I’m good, I promise.”

Yunho bobbed his head up and down, bag gently swinging from between his fingers and then put down on the ground beside his plastic cup.

“Okay, then at least take this.” Immediately you opened your mouth to say no, but Yunho wasn’t finished. “And I’m not taking a no for an answer.”

Your body was covered in a layer of warmth – the warmth of his jacket – and you gave him a small smile, a thank you for not letting you freeze to death even though that was impossible. 

“Don’t get sick on me now, Yuyu. If you feel just the smallest tingle of a cold you tell me right away, okay.” 

He pouted, “Why not? Won’t you come and take care of me then, hmmm? Some chicken soup to heal my tummy.”

The motion of his hand rubbing against his stomach had you giggling. The cheerful expression that made him fall pathetically in love with you was back and that was better than any jacket or hotpacket to keep him warm. 

You trudged up the last flight of stairs and in front was a bus stop big enough for two, maybe three people if you could squeeze in on the tiny bench. The road wasn’t connected to the path and continued in two directions, one going further up the hill and the other leading down and around the neighborhood to what you assumed was the city. The bus stop was placed right on the curve of the road with a great view of Seoul. It wasn’t anything like looking out the windows of the Red Ruby, this was less hectic. Mountains nearly blended with the dark sky and the distant lights of cars and billboards twinkled light stars, you were sure if you walked a little bit more out of the city the real stars would prevail. It was much quieter here too, no chatter of people or overproduced vehicles making whirring noises. 

You leaned your hand against the road barrier and smiled as the wind kissed your cheeks. Following your lead, Yunho did the same but with both hands and knees slightly bent as he put his whole weight against the metal fence. Turning your head to the left, you were once again taken back by his beauty. Features perfectly illuminated by the moonlight and jaw sharp as ever you couldn’t help but step back, snatch your phone up and tap open the camera icon. 

“What are you doing?” Yunho asked, amused as he caught sight of your abrupt movements.

“Don’t move! Look out again, it’s great Instagram material and although I’m no professional photographer I think they’ll still turn out amazing. Just fix your hair a bit.”

Heat spreading to his cheeks, Yunho bashfully smiled and did as told. Looking through the rectangular phone screen you moved around a little, stepping closer and inching a bit to the left before completely freezing up in place. The perfect shot was in view and with a few instructions aimed at the unofficial model, you snapped a handful of photos. In some where Yunho looked mysteriously out, others where his gaze was locked in on the circular camera alternating between a relaxed expression and cheek-popping smiles.

“Look.” 

You pushed the device in his hands and waited patiently for his reaction. 

“Maybe I should buy you a camera,” he said more so to himself but it still drew a sharp gasp out of you.

“Don’t you dare!”

And all you got back was a teasing wink, telling you your words entered in one ear and out the other.

“Send these to me, would ya? It’s been a while since I posted something on Instagram.”

While you got busy airdropping him the pictures, Yunho frantically patted the front and back of his jeans, searching for something that was in the pocket of his coat.

Clearing his throat and gauging your reaction, he said, “Can you pass me the cigarettes?”

In all honesty, you forgot the packet was even in your possession. Digging around in the pockets – first the left and then the right – you passed him the packet along with a red lighter in silence mainly because there was nothing to be said.

“Does it…Will it– I mean…Ah.”

“You can go ahead and light one, it doesn’t disturb me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh-okay. Wait, let me just.” In three quick strides he stepped around you. “Now the smoke won’t get in your face and clothes.”

You weren’t new to the smell or taste of tobacco. Having friends who smoked and even took a few puffs when offered, you quickly realized it wasn’t something to your liking. The taste was worse than any cup of black coffee and you’d opt for the caffeine filled drinks rather than those sticks. Despite that you couldn’t stop staring, almost as if mesmerized, as Yunho opened the sealed packet, tore out a cigarette with his teeth and lit it with a flick of the lighter. You definitely couldn’t stop staring when a whistle of smoke blew out from between his lips making him somehow more attractive than he already was.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t do it often, just when I’m stressed.” 

He tapped the cigarette ash into his empty slushie cup and took another drag of the intoxicating stick. You watched it mix with the few droplets of blue water and replayed his answer. 

“Are you stressed right now?”

Always the gentleman, Yunho blew out a cloudy stream of smoke in the opposite direction before looking at you. 

“With you here? Not a chance.”

You could never find anything to hate about Yunho. He was funny, kind hearted, thoughtful, smart, handsome, everything, and yet you really disliked the way your heart fluttered at his cheesy lines that would fit right in a K-drama. Your face burned like the end of his cigarette and you forced yourself not to look away, cheeks hurting from your wide smile. With one last drag of his cigarette he extinguished it and let it fall in his cup. Eyes finding yours again he smiled goofily, tracing all crevices of your face, finding you as beautiful as the first time he saw you. 

“I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the blood practically boiling beneath your skin and fingers tightly clutching the long sleeves of his coat. Of all the days you spent with him, from the extravagant dates to domestic hangouts at your place, not once did you think your first shared kiss would be under the stars while dressed with minimum effort. Nonetheless you really wanted to kiss him too.

“What’s stopping you?”

The last string keeping Yunho from doing what he’s been dreaming of snapped and he quickly dropped everything in his hands to cup your face. Thumb gently caressed your cheek like he was molding clay into a beautiful piece of art, his palm rested against your jaw, fingers long enough to graze the back of your neck as the other hand fell to your waist, the touch burning through the thick layer of his coat. High on his touch, your own hands clasped around his wrist and neck in a poor attempt to ground yourself. The faint stench of tobacco reached your nose but it was quickly drowned out by his pleasant scent of rain-soaked earth and camp fire.

Gaze flickering between your eyes and lips, Yunho slowly inched closer, noses millimeters away from brushing. A light smirk crossed his features as you rose impatiently on your toes, quietly yet so loudly telling him to do it already. Right before you took matters into your own hands and nearly yanked him by the collar of his shirt, Yunho tilted his head and brushed his lips softly against yours, and they fit perfectly. The little squeeze he gave your waist sent shivers down your spine and cliche as it sounded, fireworks and confetti poppers exploded in your stomach. Eventually relaxing in each other’s embrace you worked your lips against his, parting them and allowing his tongue entry as you simultaneously stroked his wrist in a slow motion. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss was great with no tongue being shoved down the back of your throat or mouth vacuuming your whole face. All your senses were overtaken with Yunho, Yunho and Yunho.

It was sweet, gentle and soft – everything you hoped for – and then it was not. The aftertaste of his cigarette and coca cola slush rolled off his tongue and left quite a bitter tang on yours. It wasn’t strong, but it wasn’t pleasant either and you willed yourself not to pull away too soon yet that’s exactly what you did. Yunho, still lost in the daze of the kiss, chased after your mouth wanting to claim your lips again. Panicking, because on one hand you wanted to feel him on you again – the perfect curve of his lips massaging yours and noses brushing against each other – but on the other hand you also didn’t want to taste ash and smoke, and would rather kiss Yunho and not the remainder of his cigarette. 

The soft call of his name brought him back to earth, ears painted that perfect shade of crimson clover and you probably weren’t looking any less flustered. Going from this confident guitarist with the world beneath his feet to an awkward man who still hugged his pillows to sleep, Yunho visibly deflated like a balloon.

“Did I do something wrong? Did–uh, did I make you uncomfortable?” 

The whisper hit you square in the heart and you shook your head. There was no bone in your body that didn’t think kissing Yunho was perfect, in fact it was everything and more and you’d want to do it again but maybe with the taste of something sweeter like chocolate covered strawberries.

“No. Yunho, no, I promise. It was great, I liked it a lot actually–”

“But…? I’m sensing there’s a but coming.”

“But the taste– the cigarette taste isn’t that nice.”

Yunho licked his lips and surely there was an ashy sprinkle besides the faint flavor of strawberry that was you. He had never wanted to smash his head against concrete as much as then or go cliff diving without a parachute. 

Winter surrendered to spring and days turned longer, and so did the time you spent with Yunho. The kiss you shared with the moon as your only witness was one of many, much to your delight, and ever since then it was as if you became inseparable. Late night drives turned into weekly hangouts at each other’s places (mostly at yours), hand holding was exchanged for cuddles on the couch – bodies pressed together and legs intertwined – the empty side of your wardrobe was suddenly full of large hoodies with prints of different bands and sweatpants, and your digital phonebook showed hundreds of calls to a ‘yuyu 🐶💘’ lasting up to hours. Nights together were always an adventure as Yunho watched you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, and then put you back together with those same limbs.

“Have you ever considered getting a tattoo or more piercings?” You asked one night as you laid bare in his bed, skin against skin and his blue blanket the only thing shielding you from the outside world. 

It wasn’t the first time you imagined his body covered in ink or new shiny rings glistening in the moonlight and from his sole lip piercing, you knew you’d need a few days off work to recover if he were to get some more. Heat flooded your cheeks at the idea of Yunho sporting a full sleeve and the previously subdued ache between your legs slowly grew again. Most of Blue Bird had done some body art and were eager to do more. You knew Mingi’s body was prickled all over, from his face down to the tips of his fingers, and the man was always eager to do something more. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had a few tattoos here and there although Hongjoong’s was the crown holder of having the most piercings. Yunho was the one with least the altercations and if it weren’t for a dare back in his last year of high school, he probably wouldn’t have added anything. 

“Yeah, whenever I accompany Mingi to a tattoo parlor and lemme tell you, that bastard really does a good job at persuading people.”

“But?”

“But I know I’ll change my mind in the future or probably regret getting it done and then I think of how it will look when I’m eighty and all wrinkly. Like imagine an eighty year old Mingi with a face tattoo…and I get that not everyone thinks that far or simply doesn’t care but I don’t know…It’s just weird to me. I like my skin bare.”

“I like your skin like this too,” you replied and kissed the spot beneath his collarbone. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo since I can remember.”

Not in a million years did Yunho expect to hear that. Caught so off guard, he leaned back on his forearms to get a better view of you.

“Really?”

“Yep. My parents blame it on my uncle. He was like eighteen, I think, when he got his first tattoo – without grandma’s approval of course – and I was the only one who knew. I could barely speak back then so I guess he didn’t think it would matter if I saw it or not. Well, no one could explain the sharpie-drawn cat on my forearms that they definitely weren’t allowed to wash away or I’d throw a tantrum. Long story short, I accidentally rated him out to my grandma when he was sleeping, pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and everything so yeah.”

You chuckled at the fond memory and Yunho fought the urge to kiss you until he was on the brink of passing out.

“What would you get done then?”

“I don’t know, I’m really indecisive but I’m thinking of a back tattoo, you know those that go along your spine?” 

For being someone opposed to getting tattoos, Yunho nearly took note from Mingi’s 101 guide of persuasion and got down on his knees. A back tattoo – any tattoo really – on you would have him barking like a dog and living up to the name of being a golden retriever and he felt no shame about it.

“Th–at would look good on you,” he coughed.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that perv.”

Yunho poked you in the side and you immediately curled up on yourself which only made matters worse as you moved closer to him. 

“Stop! I’m sorry,” you said between giggles and he immediately ceased his advances.

“That’s what I thought, now up. Gotta give you a bath.”

The gentleman he was, took care of you in many ways besides worshiping between your legs. Always attentive and vocal about your needs, he made sure you were comfortable even while you floated between consciousness and dreamland.

“Nooo! I’m tired.”

The grip around him tightened but with legs like jello and your brain only recently coming back from the post orgasm haze, Yunho could have you in the bathtub in seconds. You nuzzled against his chest and blinked slowly while asserting your thoughts. As dizzying as your vanilla perfume was to him, Yunho’s scent of burning wood was completely intoxicating and it nearly lulled you to sleep if it weren’t for his fingers caressing the back of your neck. How he got you to pee was a mystery of its own.

“Okay, a few more minutes but I’m getting you in that shower either way.”

“Thank you, Yuyu!”

He earned a kiss to the apple of his cheek and triumph fluttered through your veins at his red tinted ears. It was funny how he was more flustered over an innocent peck than staring straight at your wet core. Yunho felt the smugness radiate off you in waves and quickly redirected the attention elsewhere.

“Have you always wanted to be a preschool teacher?” 

“No,” you started and softly ghosted your fingers on the spot beneath his peck, a trail of goosebumps trailed after your touch. “It’s silly, but I wanted to be a cat shop cashier.”

“A cat shop cashier?”

Yunho craned his neck and if you weren’t so tired you’d laugh at his frozen expression. Instead you mustered up a hum and drew an invisible cat on his body, much like the one from your childhood days.

“I warned you it sounded silly.”

“I’m not judging you, I’m just…what is that?”

“A girl who sells things with cats on them,” you said like it was as clear as the sky being blue and the grass green.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have the money for it. A shop doesn’t just fall from the sky, you know? Plus my parents weren’t, I wouldn't say they were against it but they were worried I’d end up on the streets or something so I did the next best thing and studied hard, enrolled in college and now I’m waving bye to kids wearing backpacks with dogs on them.”

Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you and squished you closer against him, and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. Hearing about your cat-shop-dream not even having the chance of leaving the four walls of your childhood bedroom really struck a chord in him. If it was someone who understood how it felt to not have anyone in their corner, it would be Yunho. With a five dollar bill, a guitar case and a poor impression of Spongebob he took the first train to Seoul to pursue his dreams and while he wasn’t exactly famous, he wasn’t whatever his parents thought he’d be. 

“But it all played out in the end,” you finally said and closed your eyes.

“How come?”

“Because I found something better.”

One of the many Spiderman movies played on the TV in your living room. It was Yunho’s idea to have a movie marathon over the weekend and you were currently watching the second movie starring Tobey Magiure. Snacks and soft drinks littered the table, but you weren’t craving them as much as Yunho’s touch. Laying in his embrace, back against his clothed chest and one arm thrown over your waist, you wondered if the movies were an excuse to get cozy with you. 

Throwing a quick glance at the digital clock in the corner of the tv screen you realized it was nearing midnight and you could feel the sleep sneaking up on you. It was gradually becoming harder to keep your eyes open and just when you were about to succumb to dreamland an electric like jolt shocked you awake. The hem of your shirt had risen through the night and Yunho’s fingers found comfort on the exposed skin of your tummy. His hand flew from you as if being burned by a hot stove.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?”

You shook your head and smiled at the instinctual worry. There was something so attractive about his attentive side. You were one month into…whatever this labeless thing you were having and not once did he make you feel uncomfortable. He always checked in on you, made sure you were on the same level and asked for permission about the smallest of things but it was appreciated, nonetheless. 

“No, it was just unexpected…but not unwanted.” 

You steered his hand back over your stomach and fought the shiver wanting to glide down your back. Despite their humongous size, his fingertips were soft and gentle, and the warmth of his touch sent goosebumps trailing along your skin. Face burning and heart doing somersaults, you nuzzled against his bicep taking on the task of a pillow under your head. Pushing yourself, you pressed a chaste kiss to the muscle and glued your attention back to the movie, refusing to meet his eyes. In that moment Yunho swore he could feel his heart jump in his throat and he didn’t even need to touch his ears to know they were burning red. 

You had gotten quite intimate with each other. Never being able to finish a movie without locking lips or being in the same room for more than five minutes without one hand straying to the other. Not to say Yunho wasn’t affected by your sudden displays of affection – because he was – yet those small innocent acts did far worse things to Yunho’s well being than anything else.

“Who’s your favorite Spiderman?” You asked to distract him from what the hell you just did.

The lack of answer didn’t go unnoticed and as you turned your head sideways, lips parted and ready to ask again, your breath hitched in your throat at his half lidded eyes drinking you up. They were blown out with lust and desire, a look you’d gotten familiar with.

“Yuyu–” 

“I want you so badly,” he said, voice low and soft that you simply couldn’t deny him. 

You also couldn’t fight the fact that you wanted him equally as much. Saying nothing you pressed your lips against his and he was quick to set the pace, starting gentle and then turning needy and sloppy with tongues rolling against each other. Consumed by the heat of the moment, Yunho grabbed your hips and perched you on his lap while he simultaneously sat up against the sofa. Like two puzzle pieces completing each other you slid your hands to the back of his neck and played with the hair on his nape. The movie was long forgotten and all the sound effects were drowned out by the muffled whines and moans filling the apartment.

“Yunho,” you panted and rolled your hips against his.

In return his hands roamed the sides of your body, squeezing at every curve and dip, and smirked at your beautiful noises. His every kiss and grope of flesh was driving you crazy and you were seconds away from begging for his fingers, mouth, cock. Whatever he wanted to do, you’d let him. 

Breaking apart for air, Yunho didn’t stop showering you with affection and peppered kisses from your jaw down to your neck that you oh-so generously exposed by tilting your head sideways. Sucking, nipping and licking, he gave you no rest and awakened a needy pulse between your legs. Your breathy moans grew louder and shot straight to his groin and he had to physically restrain himself from bucking up against you. Thighs so thin you could feel the hard tent in his sweats that also did barely anything to cover his length. Wanting something else to occupy your hands, you slid them down his shoulders and chest, and with burning cheeks you sneaked them under his shirt exploring the muscles over his stomach. You traced each and every outline with feather-like touches that sent his stomach contracting and a deep groan reaching your ears. Your ego rocketed at the bodily reaction and quickly faltered as licked over the spot right between your jaw and ear, earning himself another breathy moan, 

“Yunho, please.”

“Please, what?” 

You could feel his devilish smirk against your skin. To coax you into speaking, he did it again followed by the graze of his teeth. 

“Need yuh, please.”

“What, darling? What do you need?” 

You whined as he continued the assault on your neck, covering it in beautiful love bites, and all you did in return was grind against his cock trying to find some relief to your aching cunt.

“Want me here?” 

He flicked his thumb over your covered left boob and a sharp sensation shot from your cunt to your breast like lightning. The sudden change of atmosphere left you more courageous than usual. Grabbing the hem of your shirt you tore the material off yourself and left Yunho stunned. Despite not being completely nude, he’d be damned if he didn’t appreciate you like the art you were. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said and traced the edge of your bra cups. 

Not expecting the night to take a drastic turn, you didn’t think to wear anything nice but a set of black underwear. 

“May I?” 

He reached around your body to the clasp holding your bra together. High on love, you nodded with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. His fingers grazed the skin on your back and left exploding tingles in his wake. With your consent he unclasped the top and cupped your breasts in his hands, giving them light squeezes that had you arching your back in response, pushing more into his touch.

“You’re perfect,” Yunho whispered and hovered his thumbs over the hardened nipples. “I wonder if they taste as sweet as they look.”

He breathed hot air over them making you squirm more in his lap and looking up, he was meet with your fucked out gaze – eyes barely open, lips swollen and shiny from his spit – and he was yet to even touch you properly. Easing you into it, he pressed a chaste kiss to your breastbone before latching around your left nub and sucking hard. Your hands flew up around his hair, pressing his head further into your chest. Yunho then released and blew gently on your puckered nipple. 

“Mo-h, more!” 

“I haven’t even touched you, baby, and you’re already whining? Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Yes! Yes, I can handle it, I’ll be so good, just pleas–”

Wasting no time, Yunho wrapped his lips around the other boob, giving it an equal amount of attention. His tongue drew circles around it, making it shiny just how he liked it and then sucked again. It was messy and nasty but felt so good. Your brain was already short circuiting and hips moved on their own, practically humping his hardened dick that stood proudly against the gray fabric. The thought of his cock – large and thick – had you soaking through your panties and you wondered how he’d make it fit. Would he use his long, nimble fingers or his tongue?

A lewd image of you laying in bed on your stomach with Yunho behind, dick aligned with your wet pussy, popped in your mind. Him groaning in your ear from how hard your pussy clenched around his cock and you moaning from the delicious stretch that came with every thrust, reaching deep into you. That alone could make you come right on the spo–

A sharp ring cut through your sinful thoughts, but Yunho kept sucking on your tits. In your dazed state he even shifted to the other one, saying something about taking care of his girls as he pinched the wet nub between his thumb and index fingers, squeezing and rolling it until you were left breathless.

“Yun-ah! Yunho! The phone,” you whined out.

“Ignore it,” he growled and kissed your neck again, hands coming down to squeeze your ass. 

The feel of his large hands on your backside quickened the pace of your moving hips. You almost obeyed his order as the phone stopped buzzing only for it to pick up again. Finding the light in your hazed mind you put the intimacy on pause. Hands pushing at his shoulders until he complied and leaned against the sofa. 

“It may be important. What if it’s one of the guys?” 

Your words were distant as his eyes were locked on your chest dripping and bruised from his work.

“Yunho!” 

“Wha– I’m listening!”

“Answer the phone, you weirdo.”

Standing up on wobbly legs you nearly toppled over and you would, hadn’t Yunho caught you by your hips. The ‘thanks’ died in your throat at the sight of his stiff cock. It wasn’t the first time he got hard from a make out session and it probably wouldn’t be the last either. You quickly put the shirt back on while he awkwardly grabbed his phone.

“Don’t cover up just yet, doll, I’m not done with you.” He answered the call with a, “This better be important.” 

And it was judging by the way his jaw unclenched and eyes widened.

“Finally! Where the hell have you been?!” You could make out the faint and distressed voice of Yeosang. “We’ve been trying to reach you for a while now, we need a group meeting.”

“Group meeting? For what?”

Panic rose in a sickening surge as you listened to the one sided conversation. 

“That’s the thing. I can’t say over phone so get your ass to Hongjoong’s.”

“Is everything alright?” You whispered from beside him.

“I’ll be there, just give me a few.”

The call ended and Yunho stuffed the phone in his back pocket.

“Yeah, or at least I think so? Yeosang called for a meeting but didn’t say why...”

A mischievous smirk tugged at your lips as you took his hand in yours.

“Well then, pretty boy. I say you get over there and hurry back to me.” 

The wiggle of your brows had you both bursting out in laughter and Yunho closed the distance between you once again.

Of all the things Yunho could expect the meeting to be about, he never imagined it to change the trajectory of his life. In less than twenty four hours Blue Bird would be signing a record deal with one of – if not the – biggest music companies in Seoul. Their teenage dreams of making music and performing in front of thousands would come true and Yunho couldn’t be happier. The one thing he was praying for, despite not feeding into his parents’ religion, came to life and in that moment he cursed himself for not sharing the same joy as his bandmates. Because all Yunho could think about was what that meant for you.

“We have to celebrate,” shouted Mingi and slung one arm over Yunho’s shoulders. 

Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang jumped in tow, all sporting wide grins and even tears shining in their eyes.

“I’ll call Wooyoungie and see if he wants to come,” replied Yeosang as he left for the kitchen.

“We should see if he’s up for designing us some clothes. It would give us more exposure for sure.” 

Seonghwa clapped his hands together and immediately imagined the crazy clothes he’d have on stage. He’s always wanted to try corsets and heels, and pretty skirts and with Wooyoung’s magic he’d definitely not be disappointed.

“I’m bringing out the champagne!”

Yunho watched Hongjoong run after Yeosang, his platinum hair shining in the dim light, and slumped back against the couch. It was weird. He’s been dreaming of this opportunity ever since he was introduced to KISS back in middle school (secretly of course, God forbid his parents heard what their eldest son was listening to) but he couldn’t shake away the bittersweet feeling festering in his stomach. A rough shove against his side snapped him out of his dazed thoughts. 

“You good?” 

Mingi, always the observant one, noticed the flicker of sadness in Yunho’s eyes. The taller of the two nodded despite feeling his dinner climbing its way back out.

“Yeah, it’s just…crazy.”

“Tell me about it, but hey we’re just getting started. A whole new life’s waiting on us. Girls, money, fame, everything we’ve dreamed of, Yunho.”

For once, Yunho’s dreams of a fast and luxurious life with expensive bikes, clothes and VIP parties lasting until the early hours of the morning changed into something quiet and humble; an apartment big enough for two and a dog lingering between his legs as he laid in bed with you in his arms. His dream of swimming in money burst as a new cloud came to mind. A dream of a girl who brought out the best in him with her kind words and soft touches of affection. His own thoughts were taunting him just like his relatives did back in Gwangju – about the dream he’d never achieve – and unlike then he was starting to believe it. 

That night Yunho didn’t allow himself to sleep. His mind tortured him with flashbacks of all the times the universe sent him signs that you were two stars on completely different sides of the galaxy. Yunho couldn’t light a cigarette without seeing your scrunched up face or drink a cup of coffee and not imagine your downturned lips and tongue sticking out in disgust. At the same time, he avoided anything and everything sweet as it worked as a reminder of the very person he deprived himself of.

After tossing and turning for the most part of the night, you woke up to the sound of heavy rain splattering against the windows of your bedroom. You couldn’t shake away the inkling feeling that it wouldn’t be the best day of your week, and considering last night’s scare you insisted your worry wasn’t unjustified. The time on your phone showed you still had a few hours before your alarm would go off for work. You wondered what Yunho was doing and what the meeting was about. There were no messages or calls from him, which wasn’t that unusual, but you were used to good morning texts and an array of different emojis. 

Willing yourself not to think much of it, you made yourself a cup of coffee and clocked into work earlier than scheduled. You couldn’t stop thinking about Yunho and decided to send him a quick message despite the moral part of your inner-self telling you not to. The following embarrassment was locked in your work cabinet with all your belongings and worrisome thoughts. For the next eight hours you busied yourself with work; playing with the kids, serving them food, changing diapers, putting them to sleep. You moved on autopilot and didn’t, not once, think of a certain tall boy who could play the guitar blindfolded.

The clock struck five PM and you kept your dignity in mind as you refrained from bolting down the hallway. The last group of kids had just been picked up and you made a beeline for the locker room. 

You [06:05 AM] Good morning 🌷how’d the meeting go? Delivered

The message was left unread and the delivered status was exceptionally bright. You couldn’t shake away the thought that something wasn't right, but you didn’t want to overwhelm Yunho as you still didn’t know what the meeting was about. You’d be damned if it turned out to be something bad. The last thing he needed was a girl pestering him about it. Doing what you did best, you put on a smile and went back home, but not before stopping by a bakery for some strawberry pastries with the hopes of sweetening up your gloomy afternoon. 

The red bike you were very accustomed to stood parked outside your apartment building but its owner was nowhere in sight and your phone was still void of notifications. It could only mean one thing. You raced up the flight of stairs and lo and behold there he was; sitting on the stair outside your door with a lighter twirling between his thumb and index finger. He looked nothing like the Yunho you knew. His face was bare and lacked the usual dark makeup smudged on his skin, and he only wore a gray hoodie and sweatpants while his fingers were void of silver bands and whatnots. He still looked handsome as ever though.

“Yuyu!” 

You jumped in his arms and he grabbed onto the railing not to fall backwards. Your body slotted perfectly against his and your breath tickled his neck. Yunho had one arm around your waist and the other moved to cup the back of your neck. He inhaled your vanilla perfume and tried engraving in his mind.

“I thought I recognized your ride. What are you doing here?”

“Just needed to see you,” he replied as you moved to unlock the door. 

His hand itched to reach for yours. To have you tucked under his arm or back glued to his chest, elbows or knees touching, anything really. He just needed the feel of your touch.

“Ah, you had me worried! I mean I’m happy to see you, but you didn’t reply to my text this morning and seeing the bike I really thought something happened.”

A forced laugh made its way past his lips and he was quick to pat your head. 

“You always worry about me, don’t you?” 

His hand slid down to your jaw and thumb caressed your chin, grazing your bottom lip.

“I’m sorry. I forgot my phone at Hongjoong’s and he’s still at work so I couldn’t get it. Was it something important?”

“You’ll drive me into an early grave, Jeong Yunho.”

“Yah, don’t say that!” 

Yunho nearly ascended like a helium balloon at the sound of your laughter. The Heaven’s gate came to view as you blessed him with that bright smile of yours. Teasingly you got closer to him so your breaths mingled in the air.

“Who will be the death of who now?”  

The question was soft and came out in a hushed whisper, and if you weren’t a pinky away from him you’d completely miss it. Yunho gazed into your eyes and you had never felt so seen before. He looked at you as if you had the world in your palms and he was ready to risk it all. A bit flustered under his loving stare, you tried reflecting his attention elsewhere.

“How’d the meeting go?” 

The moment the words left your mouth Yunho visibly sagged and his lips pursed into a tight line. You tried finding an answer in his suddenly softened eyes but all you could see in them was sadness. Yunho cleared his throat and widened the distance between you as if it would lighten the blow of his news.

“So…Blue Bird is signing a record deal with Brother Choi Industries…”

“Oh my God! Yunho, that's great!” 

Yunho caught you in the air. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and your cheek squished against his. The happiness surged out of you like rays of the sun and instead of warming him up, it pierced his body to the core. You planted a quick kiss to his cheek that left a prickling feeling after and then you were down again, feet meeting the floor.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?! We have to celebrate! C’mon, we’ll do whatever, it’s on me.”

Fingers latched around his wrist and the purse with all your belongings thrown over your shoulder, you headed for the door again but Yunho didn’t budge. Like an oak rooted to the ground, he stood in place and it dawned on you that he didn’t match your excitement.

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, stay inside? Watch a movie or something…”

“Yeah– yeah, of course,” you whispered and led him to the living room. “Put on whatever and I’ll bring some snacks.”

You couldn’t help but worry. News like that usually called for drinks or a nice dinner with one's friends or family. The thoughts of what could have happened were endless and did nothing to soothe the growing ball of anxiety in your abdomen. Patient as always you didn’t push further on the matter and just gathered whatever snacks you had in your cupboards (oreos and a half-empty packet of chips). Your eyes traveled the length of Yunho’s body stretched out on the sofa and then shifted to the TV.

“Bluey?”

“I like the gentle-parenting,” Yunho whispered and you nearly turned into a puddle on the spot.

“It’s a good show. I give it five stars and the preschool teacher approval stamp.”

As you laid down everything on the table, Yunho raised one arm in the air, a silent request for you to make yourself at home in his hold. Head on his chest, you could hear the rhythmic beat of his heart and the warmth seeping through his thick clothes. His hands were intertwined on your lower back, occasionally rubbing his thumbs over the fabric which would have any cat purring in seconds. Your left arm was squished against the sofa while the other played with one of the strings on his hoodie. 

The series of colorful dogs wasn’t new to you as almost the entirety of the kids at the preschool had some kind of product with the cartoon characters splayed on, whether it be a backpack, water bottle or bandaids. It was either that or Paw Patrol, and personally speaking you preferred the Australian doggos. 

For a good hour or two Yunho just laid there with his eyes glued to the animated show but mind running laps. He didn’t reach for any of the goods on the table or excused himself for a pee-break he so desperately needed because he knew the moment he moved, you’d look at him with pleading eyes and ask what’s on his mind. And although he’d been camping outside your apartment for three hours, he still couldn't find the right words to tell you what’s been bugging him since Yeosang’s revelation. He wasn’t there to tell you about the stupid record deal or how he forgot his phone (it was in his back pocket). Yunho came to break things up, something he knew was inevitable since the first night he laid eyes on you.

“Yuyu,” you whispered and poked his cheek, trying to get his attention. 

The guitarist was there physically but where he had gone mentally was a mystery and you noticed it early on when he didn’t mention anything about Bandit playing the toy drum set.

“Hmm?” 

He blinked back to reality and turned to face you who had changed position to lay flat on him, chin perched on top of your hand and pouty lips.

“Your heartbeat’s really loud. Is everything okay?”

Nothing about this was okay. 

It wasn’t okay that your bodies fit like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t okay that you were great together despite your contrasting looks. It wasn’t okay that the girl of his dreams was the polar opposite of himself.

“I’m just thinking…a lot.”

“About the record label?”

Fuck the record label, is what Yunho wanted to say. It was the last thing on his mind, right below his parents and every other person who had their doubts about him. The real words lingered on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken out in the open and he nearly swallowed them back down, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, not when you looked at him with worry written all over your features.

“About…you. About us.”

“What about us?”

Your voice came out higher at the end and he knew the question you were thinking of was something completely different than what he was about to say, and it hurt so much.

“It's just not…I don’t think we’re that good of a match.”

He caught the moment your world came crashing down. How the light of worry turned into confusion.

“What?” 

“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”

By that point you both sat back up on your knees and hands on your thighs, while he moved so his legs were drawn up to his chest.

“I don’t understand. I thought you liked me...” 

“I do, but it’s not– I’m…sorry.”

This was all too much for you and you were torn between lashing out in anger or hearing him out. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel it crack from the pressure of his confession. As if that wasn’t enough a stinging sensation burned behind your eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything from the start then? If you never wanted this to happen, why’d you kiss me in the first place or take me out on dates? We’ve been tiptoeing between friends and something more for the past six months and suddenly we can’t be either?!” 

The desperation dripping from your words was clear as a summer’s sky and while you tried to prove a point, Yunho wasn’t having any of it.

“It felt right in the moment, but the more time we spent together I realized that we’re too different, it just won’t work–"

You were quick to follow up. Tongue sharp and fire behind your words, they were nothing like the sweet scent of strawberries and roses he was used to. Yunho had never seen you so upset.

“This has nothing to do with our differences, Yunho! We are great together and we’ve proven it countless times. There’s something deeper than that, something you’re not telling me and I don’t know why. What have I done to ruin your trust in me?”

A beat of silence passed. The apartment was completely quiet and you wondered if the neighbors were listening in on the argument, and if they did then what a great first impression Yunho was leaving them with.

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin you,” he whispered, lips in a pout and eyes glistening like an ocean’s reflection of a night sky.

As if a pair of invisible hands, the words plunged into your chest and forcefully grabbed at your heart only to tear out the poor beating organ and throw it across the ground. To think Yunho saw himself as a problem – as a stain in your life – that he was depriving him (and you) of something beautiful, it fucking hurt.

“Don’t do that. That’s not fair, Yunho. You’d never ruin me, do you understand? This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time and I need you to know it.”

“It’s not going to work. You’re too good and I’m– you’re, I’m bad for you.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me! It’s not like I’ve never touched a cigar before in my life, or tried strong liquor or, I don’t know, had flings here and there! You’re talking as if you’re a drug lord or something. You’re just a– a– an upcoming rockstar! With an ambition that takes up a lot of your time and who occasionally smokes and drinks to de-stress. Don’t think I’m some saint you’re going to corrupt because I’m far from it, Yunho.”

Silence. 

While Yunho knew everything you said to be true, it didn’t fit the image he created of you and he could only fault himself for it. You noticed his eyes wandered around, jumping from furniture to furniture, all to avoid yours. So with shaky hands you gently – like he was a baby chick – cradled his chin and turned him towards you.

“I want you, so why won’t you let me have you?”

The crack in your voice confirmed his stupid theory of being bad for you. It was better this way, but goddammit did he want to wrap you up in his embrace and kiss the top of your head and whisper soothing things in your ear. To say ‘I’m not going nowhere’ and ‘I’m sorry’ a thousand times over until the damage would glue itself back together. He wanted to be the one giving you strength and not stack rocks upon rocks on your shoulders.

“It’s not just about that. I’m going to be a…rockstar soon. The fans, some of them are going to be nice, but not all will wish the best for us. If something were to come out about us, they’d leave you restless. I’ve seen it happen to others and I don’t want you to suffer that same path.”

And if you could see through his lies, you mentioned nothing of it.

“That’s not your decision to make and you know it! I like you and you obviously like me, nothing else matters besides that, please, listen to me. Yunho, I don’t care about anything else but you.”

He nuzzled against your palm and leaned closer until his forehead rested against yours. He wanted to remind you of your agreement, to call him Yuyu and only that, but it was a privilege he wasn’t granted anymore. You squeezed your eyes shut, not bearing to see his wet cheek, but even that didn’t stop your own tears. You felt the soft pad of his thumb wipe away the streams of salty water flowing down your skin and you didn’t know what was worse. That he was the reason behind them or that it was the first and last time he’d ever wipe tears from your face again.

“You’re gonna have a good life without me, you’re gonna grow and go places. You’re gonna get that cat lady shop and be the best cat shop cashier the world has ever seem, and you’ll meet someone way better than me–”

“But I want you!”

“You’re gonna forget about me and find someone deserving of you. Someone that can shower you with unconditional love.”

“Then be that someone. Get better, do better and stop trying to ruin this thing we have!”

“And I want you to stay just as you are. Okay? Gentle and loving and sweet. This world doesn’t deserve you and neither do I, but you deserve someone, yeah, sweet pea?”

Yunho’s voice cracked and you quickly dragged him into a bone crushing hug. He hid in the crook of your neck, arms going around you in a tight grip as if you’d disappear the second he let go. In the safety of your arms he let down his guard and the loud cries that followed prickled your skin just as much as yours clawed at his heart. You stayed in each other’s hold and drew soothing shapes on each other’s backs as you cried your hearts out.

Your arms were numb and your body refused to produce more tears to cry, but even then you didn’t budge. You knew if you let go Yunho would take it as his cue to leave and you couldn’t bear that just how you couldn’t stop whimpering as he pressed soft kisses to your temple or whispered apologies in your ear. 

“I have to go,” he eventually whispered and your heart – that you were still picking up the pieces of – broke all over again, sending shards of blood and tissue everywhere.

Your hold tightened and he truly felt evil as he broke out of your grip and got a good look at your swollen face.

“I’m so sorry, sweet pea.”

“Pluh-please, don’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Kiss me, then,” you wailed. “If you can’t stay, just kiss me one last time.”

Never one to deny your wishes he slotted his lips against your and tasted the mix of your salty tears. Your fingers curled painfully in his cheeks and the hold he had on your waist was sure to leave bitter bruises in the morning. Yunho poured every ounce of affection, his heart and soul – his everything – into the kiss. It was something he’d never done before but he needed you to know that while you maybe hadn’t reached the stage of love just yet, his adoration of fondness was never fake. Whatever feeling he had for you that was the closest to love, it was never fake.

Teary eyes stared into each other as you parted, breaths heavy and lungs ready to burst through your chest. He gave you one last peck on the cheek and broke free from your grip, and like the broken record left in his childhood bedroom, he repeated the useless apologetic words until they lost all their meaning. Your muffled cries shot straight to his heart and he could feel it crack with each step taken further away from you

As Yunho passed the threshold of your apartment for the last time, he kept telling himself that it was for the best. Your undeserving love would just be ruined in the palms of his hands and he had to leave before it became something he was too afraid to let go off. He had to leave even if meant snapping free from the vines you barely managed to twine around his limbs. It would be sharp and quick and hurt like a paper cut but with no permanent scars.

The more he lingered around you, the deeper and tighter the roots went and more sweetpeas would grow and wrap around his body, and fill him with a love and warmth that was impossible to flee. And when the seasonal change began and all the birds fled somewhere warmer, he’d have no choice but to forcefully cut the vines curled around him and hurt you beyond repair. That wasn’t something Yunho could ever see himself do and before it turned into a cloying love, he’d save you both the hurt and pain, and just leave. You’d eventually grow your sweetpeas somewhere else.

Because in the end, you were all too sweet for him.

Author's note pt.2: I've read a lot of different interpretations of the song and I wanted to share my (if you haven't kind of already grasped it). While reading the lyrics, I understood that person A doesn't believe they are worthy of person B because of their different life styles and nature. In short, they are complete opposites. While that can be good (opposites attract) person A doesn't see it that way. They know right from the start that they aren't destined to be (the reasons to this are endless) yet they still try to pursue a relationship with person B until something tells them "this isn't right". Now being polar opposites, Person B thinks that person A is the one for them despite their differences. As mentioned, I know there are a lot of different opinions of what the actual meaning of the song is and I can totally get behind those too, but this was my first interpretation and what kick-started this whole oneshot.

Disclaimer For this fic, I didn't want to make it into an experienced x inexperienced trope. Mainly because a lot of people associate innocence with dressing/acting cutesy which I believe isn't valid. People can still like pastel colors, cute trinkets, dress cute and still be experienced (with sex, smoking, drinking, tattoos, piercings, etc). I think it gives a little more depth to the story by not making the MC new to all that, but I'm not trying to spread shame on those who are inexperienced as there's absolutely nothing wrong with it!!!

Also it's my first time ever writing something close to smut and it was so hard! I can't stress it enough 😭 I'll have to practice it way more before even attempting the real deal lmao. While we're at it, it's also my first time writing for Yunho so I hope I brought him justice!

If you've made it this far I just wanna thank you for reading (everything) and I hope you've enjoyed ❤️

© HONGJOONGSART 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

#[🐶] HONGJOONGSPOETRY #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho oneshot #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #ateez songfic #kpop x reader #songfic #hozier #too sweet hozier #fluff #angst #rockstar au

[bloodmoonmuses]

stray cats, cold spaghetti | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, meet cute, friends to lovers (this is unedited, so forgive any typos! happy valentine's day!)

warnings: mentions of food!

summary: your cat introduces you to your new friend, mark. he's a bit more similar to an actual cat than you initially realized.

You didn’t understand the attachment people had to their pets until this stupid cat showed up. She was a stray, with mangled fur and callous eyes, who popped up some months ago. You had checked for any postings about missing pets, and even asked a few of your neighbors, but no one claimed the ratty thing. It’s not that you disliked animals entirely- you’re not a sociopath. You just aired more on the side of nonchalance. 

The cat could sense this, ever since the first time you two crossed paths. You remember that night so vividly. You couldn’t sleep. You laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping slumber would whisk you away sooner than later. Just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard whining. Visceral, pained whining. At first, you tried to ignore it, but when you heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a young child, you figured it’d be better to survey the situation just in case. When you opened your door to a begging cat, you sighed. Damn the neighbors for feeding this thing. Now she thinks she owns the place. 

“I bet you’re hungry, huh.” The cat bore into you with bright green eyes, tilting its head as if to say, “Duh!”

So you re-entered your home, Googled “What human food can cats eat?”, and came back with canned tuna and half a carrot. The brat looked right past the carrot and inhaled the tuna, this being its first real meal of the day. In between scarfing down food, the gray cat looked at you inquisitively. “Any more where that came from?” her eyes said. She sidled up next to your leg, purring and rubbing her head against it. 

“That’s all I got,” you had confessed. 

You named her June, since that’s the month she came into your life. Now, you’re best friends. June is actually pretty chill. She likes watching movies with you and, strangely, likes going on walks. After getting her groomed, she’s kinda cute too. You hated to admit it, but you love June. You imagine this is how people felt about their kids- without the initial reluctance of course. June comes and goes as she pleases as if she’s still a stray, but always comes back by dinner time. 

When June isn’t back at her usual time one day in October, you get a bit nervous. She never does this. Before breaking out into a full out panic, you remember she’s got a collar and a tracker from the vet now. No biggie. Opening the app that’s connected to June’s tracker, you meander down the path you usually walk with her when it’s warmer out. When you’re a few blocks from your place, you see her, relief flooding your system. Then you realize there’s a man petting her.

“Junie! June!” You run up to her, taking her into your arms. You snuggle her into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her head. You’re so caught up in your reunion with June that you forget about the stranger standing in front of you. Oh yeah. You should probably say something. His hair is somewhere in between auburn and brown, making his face look incredibly warm. You hold June a bit tighter.

“Cute cat,” the stranger says. His voice is a bit hoarse. “Thought she was a stray before I saw the collar.” Um, okay? June’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s clearly cared for. 

“Yeah, she’s mine. Do you, like, follow strays around in your free time?” you ask with a bite to your tone. 

“Do you let your pet wander around like a stray in your free time?” Fair, you think, but still rude.

“She’s a free spirit,” you contest. 

“So you let her wander.” 

“This is the first time she hasn’t come home for dinner. Our relationship is built mostly on my ability to provide her food- which works for me.” You’re not sure why you’re explaining your relationship with your cat. Who cares what this guy thinks?

June jumps out of your arms, back to the ground, and walks up to the stranger’s legs. He bends down to resume petting her. From his crouched stance, he looks into your eyes. The eye contact makes you shiver.  

“She’s sweet,” he says. “What’s her name?” 

“June. She’s a charmer- and incredibly manipulative. She probably thought she could swindle you out of some food.”

“Do I look easy to take advantage of?” He asks.

You assess him. Oversized hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers covered in scuffs... Maybe he’s a dancer. Or skateboards. You’d be into that, you think. Skater boys weren’t really your thing, but they could be- as long as it’s him. If anything, the guy just looks… cozy, all bundled up like this. There’s a tinge of red on the tip of his nose from the nippy air. He’s smirking to himself at his (flirtatious) question, making his cheek look plump. You want to pinch it. 

You want to make him as warm as his eyes make you feel. 

You realize you’ve probably been staring. Geez, what was his question? Oh yeah. “Yeah. Like a pushover,” you say. “In the best way, of course.”

“Ouch.”

“Only a real sap would fall victim to June’s powers. She can sense lackeys. No offense.” 

“I’m gonna choose to believe that means you think I’m a nice guy.”

“Nice enough.”

“I’ll take it.” The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, June having finally grown bored of her new friend. The guy stands from his crouching position and sways a bit as he awaits your next move.

“Well, like I said, this little lady was late for dinner. So if it’s okay with you,” you pick up June, then continue your thought, “We’ll be heading out.” 

As you turn to walk back home, the stranger says, “I… didn’t catch your name, by the way.” 

Right. You introduced June, but not yourself. Go figure. “Oh. I’m ___.” 

“Cool. I’m Mark.” He looks like a ‘Mark’-boyish and chipper.

“Nice to meet you, Mark. Well, have a nice night.” You start to walk again, but Mark interjects yet again.

“The sun’s setting,” he blurts it out like he’s trying to rid his mouth of the words as quickly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” Then he amends, “I live nearby, so I know it gets kinda dark in this neighborhood. Not many street lights.”

You think about it. You’re not getting any serial killer vibes, plus he’s already passed the June test. (And if you're being honest, he's very cute.) “Um, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you walk in silence, save for June’s purring. When you make it to your apartment building, you stop. Your gut is twisting, mind fixating on the warmth radiating off Mark’s body. Your fingertips are whirring with electricity. You have a bad idea. 

“Would you maybe… wanna come in for dinner?” Mark turns to look at you.  “I never really learned how to cook for one person, so I always have a bunch of leftovers.” 

It’s a lie, but not entirely. You like to cook enough food for the entire week. Mark doesn't need to know this, you conclude.

Mark nods to himself. “Uh, sure. I could eat.”

As soon as you place June down in your apartment, she sprints to her food bowl. Silly girl. 

“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” you say. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“Love it,” Mark responds. (You’d later find out this was a lie.)

“Perfect.”

That’s how you and Mark became friends- similarly to how June came into your life. You fed him. In all honesty, he wasn’t that fond of your spaghetti. He just liked the way you smiled each time he took a bite. The two of you continued to get to know one another while making food. Neither of you are great cooks, so you usually team up. It’s become a love language of sorts, sending recipes back and forth to try. You look forward to eating with Mark more than anything these days.

You’re more than aware of your underlying feelings for Mark, but you’ve managed to temper them. You don’t want to scare him off, but the tension is relentless. You’re making tiramisu and your shoulders touch. You’re piping flowers on a cupcake while Mark pulls tendrils of hair away from your face. You’re whisking meringue into stiff peaks while Mark hums to June in the living room. It’s heart achingly domestic. 

Oftentimes you imagine Mark as your husband. In your daydreams the two of you are wearing matching aprons, flour dusting his nose. He kisses you, a fit of giggles attacking your system. You’re absolutely smitten and unabashedly so.

 In reality, today is Valentine’s Day. Mark suggests he comes over and makes pizza. You don’t think Mark realizes what day it is until you suggest making your pizzas heart shaped. He says he forgot to buy his friend Jaehyun a birthday gift.

“This is, like, kinda romantic.” If being covered in pizza sauce and flour is romantic, then yes. This was very romantic. You have a nice spread here-  fresh basil, mozzarella, alfredo sauce, vodka sauce, roma tomatoes… It smells so nice. Mark keeps sneaking chunks of cheese into his mouth. He looks like a little mouse. June is fast asleep on the couch. You’ve finally perfected the heart shape of your dough, and begin to spread alfredo sauce on your pizza. 

“Your parameters for romance are very strange, Mark Lee.”

“If you close your eyes, it’s like we’re in Italy.” When he says things like this, they only fuel your daydreams. You blame the flush of your face on the preheating oven.

“Venice, I hope.”

“Of course.”

Mark’s pizza looks more like an anatomical heart than the kind you’d doodle in a notebook. He scoffs when you tell him this, feigning offense.

“Should I remind you of how your cinnamon rolls came out a few weeks ago?” They were awful. At a certain point, you had given up and rolled them into balls. 

“My cinnamon rolls/balls were innovative and transcendent.” 

“I don’t even know how you messed them up,” Mark says as he puts the pizzas in the oven, “We bought pre-made dough.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When the pizzas are done baking, the two of you sit at the dinner table. It’s a different feel for the two of you, seeing as you usually eat together on the couch.  You take a bite of your pizza, savoring the taste.

“Not bad. Wanna taste?” Mark nods. Instinctively, the two of you swap plates, trying each others’ creations.

“I think you’re better at making savory foods.”

“I agree.”

You and Mark continue to eat your pizzas, taking gulps of your respective drinks in between bites. Beer for Mark, white wine for you. Jazz plays softly from your shitty phone speaker, and June’s snores fill in the gaps of silence. After a bit, Mark’s face goes red from the alcohol. You liked seeing him tipsy. He gets all wavy and fluid, unconsciously swaying side to side like a daisy in the wind. Your face feels fuzzy from the wine and you find yourself biting your tongue. 

You’ve had to be more conscious of your alcohol intake around Mark lately. It felt as if at any moment, your love for him would simply become unbearable. Recently, it’s been hard to just look at him- even while sober. Tonight, apparently, you threw caution to the wind. 

“Mark?” you say.

“Hmm….”  He’s drifting away, lethargic from the food and beer. You repeat his name again, this time getting his full attention. When his glassy eyes meet yours, the force behind them knocks the wind out of you.

“Yes?” says Mark. He takes another sip of beer. 

You can’t do this, you think, backtracking entirely. The lie escapes as a garbled mess of words: “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You take a nervous gulp of your wine.

Mark slams his fist on the table, in a drunken stupor. The sound startles you, but there’s no malice behind his motion. In fact, he’s laughing to himself. “Bullshit.”

“I really did lose my train of thought. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”

“I know you’re lying. Like you lied about that cold ass spaghetti you used to lure me in!” he says, referencing the night you met. The spaghetti wasn’t that cold…

“I really did make too much spaghetti that night! Plus, you kept June safe. It was the least I could do!” 

Mark begins to gather your plates and cups, walking over to the kitchen to place them in the sink. As he stands, he says, “I won’t force you to say it, but I know you’re lying.” 

Then he moves to run the faucet. The rushing water fills the silence like TV static, buzzing and itching in your ears. Your throat is burning. You want to talk to him openly, honestly- but something’s stopping you. Mark washes the dishes wordlessly. With his back turned to you, his words hang heavy in the air. Mark never pries but simultaneously knows you so intimately. You love being known by him. You love knowing him. 

You simply love him.

“Why’d you walk me home that night?” Your voice barely pierces the air. The question practically squeaks out of you.

“What?” Mark turns off the facet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to look at you.

“The night we met. Why’d you walk me home?”

He contemplates the question for a moment, closing his eyes to visualize the night. Then he says, “Wanted to make sure you got home safely.” 

The moment is delicate and fragile. You’re scared that if not nimble enough, if not cradled with the utmost gentleness, it will shatter. You proceed with caution.

“Mark?” At the sound of his name, Mark returns to his seat at the dining table.

“I think… I love you.” Mark chuckles. “Don’t laugh!”

“You think?” he says, now breaking out into a full-bodied laugh.

“Yeah. I think so.” 

“I love you too.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “...I think.”

“Very funny, asshole.” 

Mark reaches over the table and places a chaste kiss upon your lips. “Okay, I think I’m a little more sure now,” he says.

“Need some more reassurance?” you ask. Mark nods. 

You lean in to kiss him this time, and just before your lips touch, you hear whining. You pull back to look down, seeing June curled up beneath your chair. Her timing is always impeccable. The two of you giggle, sealing the moment with a fervent kiss. You melt into his touch, the elation coursing through your veins. When you come up for air, you meet Mark’s eyes.  

“What?” he says. “I’m a better kisser than you thought?” 

“I was just wondering… you’re still gonna wash the dishes, right?”

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #nct 127 fluff #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader

[quokkawritesarchive]

BE MY VALENTINE — MINSUNG.

pairing: minho x jisung genre: smut, NSFW, friends to lovers warnings: dom!minho, sub!jisung, jisung has gay panick, oral (m. receiving), bratty jisung, cum swallowing a/n: it’s part of my valentine’s collab! the way word count keeps increasing with every work…

what is the definition of friendship? when does the line between friendship and relationship cross?

jisung felt unease; his emotions couldn’t sit right with him and were about to reach the peak. how could he remain calm, when minho kept giving him forehead kisses when he was asleep?

the two of them have been best friends for so long. everyone even called them “chopsticks”, because they were always together. sleepovers were a common thing between them, along with cuddling, sharing clothes and other normal things. all friends do that, right? jisung wasn’t so sure about it anymore.

when minho suggested to rent a room at a spa hotel for february 14th, jisung almost had a heart attack. was it supposed to be a date? a romantic date? an actual romantic evening?

best friends usually go to a spa hotel for entire valentine’s day, just to spend time together, right?

even if he was weirded out a little, he couldn’t say no, since minho was paying for it. at least that’s what he told himself.

“it’s quite nice, actually. look, they even gave us towels and soaps.” minho said as they entered their hotel room.

jisung followed him in, noticing something in the middle of the room only a moment later. something he certainly hadn’t expected.

“one bed?!” he exclaimed.

“ah, yes. i think they confused us for a couple.” minho explained in the most calm manner.

“confused us… for a couple?” jisung raised an eyebrow. that sounded weird.

“yeah, i think so. i wouldn’t book a room with only one bed, c’mon.” minho chuckled as he opened the curtains.

the view was breathtaking. the sun had already set, so the entire skyline of soul could be seen in full view. billboard lights flashed in the distance, people hurried somewhere like ants, and the stars were shining bright in the sky.

“wow…” jisung immediately forgot about the bed and came up, pressing his face against the window. his cheeks pressed absurdly against the glass. he reminded minho of some little animal looking at everything with big eyes.

“aghm-“ minho cleared his throat, finally switching his gaze off jisung. “let’s go to the sauna then, shall we?”

“we even have a sauna included?!” jisung couldn't contain his delight.

“of course. i booked everything they had listed.” minho said proudly, picking up the t-shirt and shorts provided by the hotel. “alright, ima go change.”

he disappeared in the bathroom, leaving jisung with his cheeks still flattened against the glass.

the whole jjimjilbang experience included relaxing in a hot tub, trying several saunas and getting a massage later. once you were done, you could order a cold drink and some dishes in your room and spent the night there.

that’s when jisung realized he had one problem approaching. the dress code in jjimjilbang was a little different from a public pool — you wear nothing at all.

the realization made him gulp. of course he has seen minho’s naked body before, but only for a split second. jisung always turned away, being scared to be seen as a creep. but even after seeing minho’s body for half a second the images of his broad chest and muscular shoulder couldn’t leave jisung’s mind. it was as if it had been imprinted there forever. was he ready to spend whole day with naked minho by his side? what if he just gets hard in front of him? what if minho sees him get hard? what if-

minho loudly closed the door awakening jisung from his panic mode. it was his turn to change clothes now. on wobbly legs, he went to the bathroom, his thoughts kept returning to the possible hard-on.

after both of them were finally in proper clothes, boys left the room. the bathing area was huge indeed, but first they needed to take a shower. jisung quickly washed up in order to avoid standing next to a naked minho rubbing his muscular shoulders. he knew he won’t be able to look away.

jisung chose to sit in a hot tub first, since it had a lot of bubbles and could cover the groin area pretty well. the water was so warm and relaxing. jisung even leaned his head on the edge, closing his eyes in pleasure.

“ah, so warm.” minho exhaled, finally joining jisung in the tub and sitting right next to him.

jisung shivered at the sudden skin contact. why did minho sit so close to him? like impossibly close, so their shoulders were touching. was this even appropriate to sit that close to each other while being fully naked?

jisung tried to ignore that thought, shutting his eyes harder to avoid accidentally staring at minho. moreover, he tried to think of something disgusting or scary, so that his dick wouldn’t get hard.

after half hour minho finally showed signs of life. “wanna move to the sauna?”

his voice sounded so soft and quiet, jisung felt his heart melting.

“sure.”

“alright, let’s go.” minho’s hand then found jisung’s hip underwater, leaning on it for support. digging his fingers into jisung’s skin and grunting like a grandfather, minho stood up, revealing his dick to everyone nearby. but none of the people cared. none, except jisung.

he was in such awe from minho’s hand movement that he forgot to close his eyes. but it was too late. now minho's cock was just at his face level. he was big… and thick as jisung imagined. not like he was thinking of minho’s dick all the time, but he had some thoughts about how his friend’s dick would look like. if only he could lean in slightly and lick the tip with his tongue and then-

“going?” minho asked with a note of confusion.

jisung joilted. he really hoped he wasn’t staring between minho’s legs this whole time.

“you can go. i’ll be there in a bit.” jisung answered through heavy breaths. now his dick was rock hard and the stimulation, although small, from the hot tub, did not help his desperate situation at all.

minho gave him a last questioning look, but exited the hot tub. the whole plan was going down the drain. everything was falling apart and jisung’s fears were becoming a reality. he was sitting with a rock hard dick in a public hot tub because he saw his best friend's cock. was it even normal?

it made him dizzy, but jisung had no other option than to start thinking of all disgusting things that happened to him. when he threw up on himself, or when he had to clean up his dog’s poops out of the carpet and pick out each piece individually… yeah, it worked. in a matter of twenty minutes, jisung managed to fully get rid of a hard-on and finally left the hot tub.

sauna was definitely a better choice right now, since jisung could come up with an excuse to cover up his crotch area. minho would probably give him another questioning look, but jisung didn’t care anymore. it would still be better than thinking of disgusting things again instead of relaxing and enjoying the evening.

jisung managed to wrap a towel around his hips and entered the sauna. it’s been a long time since he visited places like this. the familiar feeling of warmth surrounded his body. he was about to relax so good. thankfully he won’t have to worry about getting hard anymore.

minho saved a place for him on the bench, so jisung had no other choice than to sit next to him. but even when jisung tried to look away, out of the corner of his eye he noticed how minho sat: slightly slouched, legs wide. to make room for it, obviously. or to show it off. although nothing in his face betrayed anything smug or arrogant. his eyes were closed, as if he was asleep.

they sat in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the sauna. jisung still avoided looking at his friend, trying to forget the hot tub incident.

the next half hour passed smoothly and they decided to go to massage. but even when they were taking another shower jisung avoided looking at minho even for a second again. he became so anxious and was struggling with himself and his sudden feelings.

fortunately, the massage was an individual experience, and they didn’t have to be in the same room. after being on edge for a long time, jisung was finally able to truly relax and enjoy a massage.

even though his mind was still full of questions about why he had such intense reactions after seeing minho’s bare body. until today, jisung had never given much thought to it. sure, maybe he thought once or twice about how fit minho was. and yes, maybe sometimes the fact that minho seemed like an attractive guy crossed jisung’s mind. and jisung supposed he couldn't ignore the electric tingle that ran down his spine last week when minho had brushed his lips against his forehead, thinking he was asleep. but just because jisung considered what it might be like to date minho didn't mean they could actually date each other. terror, desire, confusion and curiosity all battled it out inside jisung’s stomach. it was only because jisung had never seen minho’s dick before. it was not like he had a crush on his best friend, right?

“do you want haejangguk as usual?” minho asked, looking through the menu.

they were back in the hotel room. jisung was so drained and sleepy, he immediately crawled under the sheets and was about to pass out. the massage took the last bits of his energy.

“mhm.” he answered. he was too lazy to even move his lips.

“okayyy, i’ll have fried chicken then.”

minho called the reception and made an order for the room service. but when he finished the call and turned around, he found jisung sleeping with his head almost completely hidden under the covers.

minho felt his heart trembling. why did jisung have to be so freaking cute? lying on the side, he had one cheek squished by the pillow, while the other was looking so round and chubby.

unable to resist the urge, minho climbed closer to jisung on the bed and laid down, staring at the sleepy expression on his friend’s face.

jisung swore he didn’t notice how he fell asleep, but what minho did next woke him up in a second. another forehead kiss. jisung knew he hadn’t imagined it and now he had all the evidence, as he was fully awake. minho didn’t stop on one, he gave jisung another and then another kiss on the forehead. his lips felt so soft.

jisung started smiling under the covers. a familiar warmth filled his chest, heading somewhere down into the groin area. he genuinely did not want to show that he was awake. he just wanted the kisses to last forever.

but the desire to catch minho red-handed was stronger.

“what are you doing, hyung?”

minho could have sworn his heart almost jumped out of his chest. he cursed, immediately pulling away.

“i thought you were asleep.” in the blink of an eye, minho was already lying on the other side of the bed as if nothing had happened.

jisung stared at minho in disbelief, thinking of how he should approach this conversation. he couldn't understand why minho shunned him so much, why he didn't want to admit his own actions.

but just as jisung was about to finally confront minho, a knock on the door disturbed him.

“oh! room service!” minho abruptly sat up on the bed.

fuck.

this is what you call a bad timing.

minho welcomed the service lady in, letting her to put all the plates on the table and leave shorty after.

“food is here. come eat.” minho did not even give jisung a glare as he continued to arrange the plates.

“not until we talk.” jisung puffed out his cheeks in displeasure. even though he looked like an offended child right now, he needed to get an answer from minho in any way.

minho was silent for a while, but after realizing that jisung was not joking, he gave up, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“fine. what do you wanna talk about?”

“i dunno. everything?!” jisung threw his hands up in annoyance. “your weird behavior whole day? your accidental booking of a couple’s room? your constant forehead kisses, when i’m asleep?”

jisung didn't notice how angry he got. he didn't plan on yelling at minho, he didn't want to start a fight with him. it just happened.

“if you're so worried about it, i actually accidentally booked a room with one bed. when i noticed, it was too late to cancel the reservation.” minho’s words were sharp. “besides, we often sleep in the same bed, so i didn't think much of it. and... my weird behavior? or maybe it’s yours? because i’m not staring at your dick like a horny bitch whole day.”

jisung was so stunned that he started opening and closing his mouth like a fish. he did not expect that instead of repentance, minho would go on the attack.

“how can i not stare at your dick when it’s right in front of my face?!”

“just don’t look at it?!”

“then don’t shove it in my face!”

“i don’t shove it in your face!”

“you literally did in a hot tub!”

“i had to stand up somehow?!”

“and chose to wiggle it in front of my mouth!”

“i didn’t! gosh… if i really wanted to fuck your face i would have already done it!”

“so you don’t want to?!”

“i didn’t say that!”

both of them suddenly paused. how did the conversation turn into this? none of them had an answer to that.

it wasn’t long before minho was right on top of jisung, holding his hips down and kissing him hungrily. practically spit on spit, purposefully as sloppy as possible, they kept devouring each other’s mouths. the desperate hunger for one another that had been hidden deep inside them for so long finally bursted out.

the slurping noises were filthy, but neither of them seemed to care. instead jisung tightened his arms around minho’s neck and threaded his fingers through his hair. it was a mix of passion and anger from the fighting before. jisung took minho’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on it like he would suck him off.

jisung’s dick grew embarrassingly fast, causing him to wiggle his hips under minho’s body. why was he so easily turned on?

“you are so cute when you are flustered…” minho pulled away, looking at jisung intently. a string of saliva still connected their lips. one hand brushed a stand of hair out of his face, while the other gripped his waist.

jisung didn’t respond, only blushed even more. his puffy cheeks were completely red. he melted just like that, becoming completely malleable in minho’s arms. he was trying so hard to avoid intense eye contact, but it was hard to do so, considering that minho was pressing his whole body against him.

pleased with the reaction, minho grinned and moved to kiss jisung’s neck, leaving bites and sucking at any piece of skin he could see. biting became even harder when he heard a series of desperate moans from jisung. he then spread jisung’s legs apart with his knee, resting comfortably right between them.

“fuck-“ jisung whimpered, thoughts getting hazy each second.

to think that he would end up being crushed against the bed by his best friend, while being kissed and toyed with… he started grinding his hips against minho, bucking them up. he quickly got more and more desperate, reaching his climax just by dry humping.

“gosh… you are so loud.” minho wanted to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t hide his cheeky smile. having jisung like this, grinding his hips against him, was the best reward he could get.

“then why don’t you shut my mouth with your cock?” jisung suddenly said, immediately regretting his words. he did not want to sound so eager for minho’s dick.

the smile dropped so fast from minho’s face and got replaced by a devilish smirk. “you think you can handle it?”

oh lord. jisung shut hit eyes. he couldn’t bear with minho looking at him like that. he was practically undressing him with his eyes, while his thumb traced over jisung’s bottom lip.

“i can. i can handle it.” jisung nodded multiple times. no, he definitely sounded eager for minho’s dick now.

minho gave jisung a final warning look and lifted himself up, settling with his back pressed against the headboard. he stripped his clothes quickly, they went flying across the room. the act itself got jisung gulp hardly, wanting to undress as fast as possible too.

his gaze caught on minho, naked and beautiful, leaning casually against the headboard as his eyes leisurely traveled over jisung’s body. minho’s cock was hard, long and already leaking, making jisung’s mouth watery.

he then scooted a bit closer to minho, leaning in for a kiss again. minho responded just as passionately, his hands tangled in jisung’s hair and his hips bucked up in search of contact.

jisung thought he could probably spend hours just kissing minho, but that wasn't what he wanted now, when the sight of dripping dick was just beneath him. he pressed one last kiss on minho’s lips before kneeling down.

he ran his hands up minho’s thighs and then took that thick cock in his hands. the feel of his cock alone made jisung impatient. it was so warm and the skin felt so silky soft.

but before taking it into his mouth, he shot minho an inquiring look only to find him with his head thrown back. reading that as a sign to do whatever he wants, jisung tightened his grip on the cock.

“oh fucking shit…” minho groaned. a throaty sound had heat shooting right up jisung’s groin.

precum was pearled at the tip, and jisung licked it off slowly, savouring the taste of minho on his tongue.

“oh, oh fuck!” minho whimpered, looking down.

jisung smiled and did it again. he was ready to put on that show for him, never breaking the eye contact and taking minho as slow as possible.

he wanted to touch him everywhere, wanted to know how every inch of minho’s dick felt on his tongue. minho tasted so sweet, and jisung couldn't get enough of him. following the pace, jisung licked the tip again, alternating between kitten licks and fully taking the tip into his mouth.

minho’s hips trembled, the muscles on his thighs tensed under jisung’s palms as he moved his hips up towards jisung’s face.

“you're- ah- good at that- just- go a bit faster-“ minho gasped out. he restrained himself this whole time from grabbing jisung by the hair and pushing him down his cock. but he was slowly losing his patience.

“make me.” jisung hummed, shivering at the thought of what was about to happen next.

minho opened one eye to make sure jisung wasn’t joking. oh well, the cocky smile on his face confirmed so.

if jisung wanted to receive a full face fucking experience… how could minho say no?

his hand then grabbed on jisung’s hair, interlocking his fingers tightly, and pushed him down the length with all force. even thought jisung was fully prepared for that, he still nearly choked on the dick.

minho began to fuck jisung’s mouth, while continuing to hold the hair tightly. the slick sounds of his own cock sliding in and out mixed with the wet sound of jisung’s mouth.

when jisung got used to the speed, he took hold of the base of the dick with one hand, sliding it on the thickening shaft. he hollowed his cheeks around minho’s huge cock, trying to be so good for him. he wanted to be used like a toy — wanted minho take as much of him as he desired.

jisung caught himself on a thought of how much he was enjoying this. on his knees, in nothing but his underwear, his face in minho’s groin and mouth full of dick. couldn’t be any better.

minho was so hard and dripping from jisung working him up. the sounds jisung’s mouth was making... it was all so filthy and dirty, but he couldn't get enough. he wanted, needed to hear more of that.

as jisung curled his tongue one more time and began moving his head at impossible speed, minho felt his orgasm approaching.

“fuck!” he whined. the grip on the hair tightened, and he came inside jisung’s mouth. jisung continued licking him through orgasm, not letting even a single drop of cum to waste.

as minho finished, both his arms encircled jisung’s cheeks and he left a kiss on his forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs.

“did so well for me, jagi.” minho cooed, and jisung blushed at the praise. he ran his thumb over jisung’s lips, looking at him in awe. “you swallowed it all?”

jisung nodded and minho groaned again. “fuck- that’s hot. you’re so hot.”

jisung couldn’t help, but blush even more. they’ve been messing around for far too long, and jisung has been hard this whole time. he was desperate for minho to fuck him, suck him off or just do anything to his body at this point.

but as soon as jisung was about to beg for a touch, minho looked somewhere behind him, the look on his face immediately changed.

“the food is cold now, by the way. told you we have to eat first.” the usual grumpy minho was back. it was adorable how quickly his mood could change.

“well… im still hard. you can try to satisfy your hunger with my cum, if you want.” jisung leaned closer to minho’s face.

the way jisung was so bold with his words left minho speechless. he was not surprised he was hard again so soon.

“you offering?” he grinned, capturing their lips back together.

-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡

side note: i know that korean saunas are not like hotels and don’t have rooms for each person, but i had to make it less realistic for the PLOT. so please don’t come after me >_<

taglist | masterlist

TAGLIST (OPEN): @lvlnijiro @hanjisung-enjoyer @fun-fanfics @soonie1010 @noellllslut @newhope8 @channiebahngswife @chanscappuccino @vivioluh @rockstrhanji @yoontaethings @katsukis1wife @caitlyn98s @yaorzu-blog @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

#stray kids #skz smut #be my valentine #valentines collab #valentines day #skz minsung #minsung smut #skz jisung #han jisung smut #jisung smut #minho smut #skz minho #minho x jisung #minsung

[blueywrites]

turtle dove and the crow, part two

A 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader

story tags: 18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending.

chapter tags: 18+. p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, threats of animal violence (there will be no animal violence in this fic).

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five | epilogue | playlist

PART TWO: REAL LOVE, BABY (9.9k)

I’m a flower, you’re my bee

It’s much older than you and me

I’m in love, I’m alive

I belong to the stars and sky

Let’s forget who we are for one night

We’re not animals, baby

It’s the people who lie to themselves

Real Love Baby— Father John Misty

Somehow, the knock on the front door the next day comes as a surprise.

Maybe it shouldn't have; maybe you should've risen expecting Eddie to call on you first thing in the morning before you'd even brushed all the tangles from your hair. You hear those three sharp knocks while sitting cross-legged at the kitchen table, slowly nibbling on a piece of toast slathered with butter and homemade apple jam and still rubbing the crust from your eye with the other hand. You frown towards the front door, suspicious, at first, that the sound may have been a hallucination borne of your sleep-heavy mind. But when you hear it again, you rush forward in your flimsy nightgown, grabbing your Mama's housecoat from where she'd left it hanging over the stair railing and wrapping it around yourself as you hasten to answer the door. The thought of a visitor seeing you in such a state brings a little self-conscious heat to your cheeks, though the coat protects your modesty; still, there's no alternative. Pa's already out working, and Mama's started on the weekly washing, which typically takes her nearly the whole day and can easily put her in a gruff mood. The last thing you need is to start the day off on the wrong foot by making her answer the door.

You reveal your visitor. And though the sight on the other side of the screen still separating you might be a surprise, the way Eddie's face brightens so eagerly when he sees you - his features all lit with handsome delight like he's seen the thing he desires most in this world - tells you the whole story. 

You can't help the sappy smile that plucks at your cheeks when he pulls the screen door open, letting it thump to prop against his hip as he removes the final barrier between you. Eddie looks a dream haloed by bright summer sunlight, dew darkening his loafers as he stands on the mat at the threshold of your door. Your eyes trail from his shoes upward, skating over bony ankles which lead to long pale legs and ruddy knees exposed beneath the hem of smart beige shorts. His button-up shirt sports a checkered pattern and is practically wrinkle-free, and there isn't a smudge of dirt on him— not on his pale forearms, nor his neck, nor his rosy cheeks. And what's more: his hair looks freshly washed, curls bouncy as if the water from his bath has just finished evaporating off them, leaving his bangs soft-looking and slightly frizzy as they ruffle in the early morning breeze. 

"Hi." Eddie's voice isn't at all sleep-hoarse when he greets you— in fact, it's downright chipper to match the sparkle in his umber eyes.

"Hi," you echo, still sleep-hoarse yourself but sweet all the same. Eddie's curls rustle again with another gust of light wind, and your fingers itch to reach out and feel that softness for yourself.

Before you can, you feel Mama's presence looming as quick-shuffling steps halt right behind you. Eddie's spine snaps a little straighter as he sees her over your shoulder; he tucks his hands behind his back like he's standing in a military line. 

"Good mornin', ma'am." His broad smile is oozing with charm, and you have half a mind to peek behind you to see if it put a chink in your mother's stony expression, considering the way it makes your own heart squeeze in your chest.

"Good morning, Edward," she says, not quite stiff but with a hint of wry amusement. 

Clearly, his charm doesn't work as well on her as it does on you, but Eddie perseveres nonetheless, asking politely, "I was wonderin', given it's Saturday and all, if maybe y/n would be available for a while this morning? I was hopin' to read to 'er from this book—" 

He pulls the hardcover from behind his back, presenting it to your mother with a flourish. She cranes forward to peer at the cover— a knight on horseback firmly gripping a lance, with the words Don Quixote embossed overtop— but she merely leans back, resting on her heels rather than taking it from him. Eddie finishes his sentence hastily. "—if that's all right with you, ma'am."

You do turn to face her then, eyes wide and pleading. "Oh, Mama, can I? I really wanna know what happens next." Your face flashes with hopefulness as a sudden idea occurs to you. "And I can practice my embroidery, too, to get ready for the showin' at the fair."

Caught between your hopefulness and Eddie's earnestness, your mother relents quickly in the interest of hurrying this business along. "Go'n get yourself dressed, now," she instructs you. "I'll not have you sittin' on my porch in your bedclothes for the neighbors to gawk at."

With a bright beam directed toward the boy before you, you spin and hurry up the stairs before your Mama can change her mind.

When you emerge onto the front porch— dress thrown on, hair hastily brushed, embroidery basket in hand, cheeks rouged from being pinched between your fingers as you rushed down the stairs so as not to keep Eddie waiting— it's to a symphony of late summer in the early morning. The squeaky creak of the weathervane and the trill of birdsong punctuate the light air, which is scented by the heady perfume of the hydrangea bushes framing the base of the porch. You take a moment to breathe them in, letting the air rush into your lungs— dry, not quite crisp, but not as heavy with humidity as yesterday. This August morning is sunny and bright but mostly still and quiet; it's early yet for the dirt road beyond your front yard to be anything but empty, save for the occasional motorcar mosying in the direction of town. 

You glance automatically toward where you assume Eddie will be, but the two rocking chairs to your right are empty; you glance to the left and see that Eddie has chosen to sit on the wicker couch instead, nestled into the corner against the floral cushions. Your expression shows your curiosity about his choice, and an easy, lopsided grin accompanies his explanation. 

"Well, I thought about sittin' in the rockin' chairs like we normally do," Eddie tells you, one arm slung across the back of the couch and the other dangling the hardcover from loose fingertips, "but I changed my mind on account of my voice."

He pauses, eyes twinkling with mirth as your nose scrunches with predictable puzzlement. "Your voice?" you question, and his smile widens.

"Tha's right," Eddie declares, leaning forward and crinkling his brow in an exaggeration of earnestness. "M'voice is just so tired from that story you made me tell you yesterday. Y'know, you really twisted my arm with that one, turtle dove. Really took a lot out of me, weavin' you that yarn."

The rasp of Eddie's voice sounds just the same as usual— no more throaty or hoarse than normal, like he's claiming. You cock your hip and plant your unoccupied hand there as you raise a skeptical brow, but he ignores you. And that voice of his is still warm with brashness as Eddie falls into a cadence somewhere between smug and teasing. "So you got to sit close to me, y/n, if you want me to read to you from this here book. You don't wanna wear me out by makin' me speak too loud, now, do you?"

Eddie raises his arms, the book dangling shakily now in his grip as he wiggles all his fingers, beckoning you over. You twist your lips against a pleased smile, an affectionate tingle stirring behind your sternum as you sigh theatrically. "Holy moly, Ed, you really are such a wuss," you pretend to grouse. "The things I do for you."

Eddie's face brightens as you pad over, bare feet skimming the porch floorboards worn soft with age. You hesitate for a moment near the leftmost cushion before choosing the middle. As you sit down, Eddie shifts his body so that, in the position he's facing, you have no choice but to lean back half against his chest and half against the cushion, your embroidery basket in your lap. The floral cushions are scratchy, but Eddie's shirt is so smooth, as is his hot skin where his arm is thrown along the back of the couch behind your shoulder as if encouraging you to nestle into his side. You give into the temptation, relaxing into his chest, which is firm and yet soft. You and Eddie shift and shimmy a bit until you're both comfortable and ready to take up your activities; as you pull out your embroidery needle and choose your threads, Eddie props the book against his knee, his loafer braced on the wicker edge of the couch seat. 

And with that, Eddie begins to read to you from the book he'd forgotten yesterday. Yesterday, you'd been disappointed by that fact, but now, you couldn't be any more grateful.

It's still hot, but as the minutes tick on and the sun rises higher in the sky, the day remains not as hot as yesterday. The breeze keeps you comfortable as it plays with the pages of Don Quixote and the edge of the fabric peeking from the embroidery hoop in your hand. You move the needle in and out, in and out, and it weaves like the cadence of Eddie's voice as he reads to you, lulling you into contentment. That contentment stretches like a cat when he runs his calloused thumb lightly against your upper arm, the rough pad catching the skin there. Its path is stuttering, slightly uneven because of it, but you just lean into him more, humming as it relaxes you. And Eddie smells so unbelievably good— clean like laundry powder and hay but musky like tobacco and the salt of his skin. His voice rumbles in his throat and chest, smooth and even and practiced as he lets the words dance from his lips to create pictures in your mind as your fingers twist and pull the needle without much conscious thought.  

And every once in a while, Eddie's words will fade into silence like the light of a firefly. He'll turn his head to let his dry lips skim your temple before returning to his book, his voice picking up again as if he'd never interrupted himself. Each time is abrupt, as if a sudden impulse has caught him; sometimes, he even stops speaking right in the middle of a sentence to whisper his lips against your smooth skin. It's a light touch, gentle as the beat of a bird's wings— reverent and sweet, a graze that has your heart turning in your chest with the utter rightness of it.

After some time, the deep grumbling of an engine draws your gaze to an approaching truck, faded blue and familiar. As it rambles up the drive and rolls to a stop before the red house next door, you can see the curve of Eddie's uncle's shoulder and the plaid of his gray shirt just barely visible through the smudged side window. The puttering engine silences, and you smile and wave as he pulls himself from the driver's seat like he's made entirely of creaking joints before slamming the door shut behind him in a rattle of steel. "Mornin', Mr. Wayne!" you call, wagging your arm high in the air until he spots you. He crosses around the front bumper to trudge up the steps toward the front door, throwing you a brief wave before pulling the straw hat from his head and rubbing the sparse hair that encircles the bald spot on his crown. Once the door has thumped closed behind him, Eddie lets the arm slung across the back of the wicker couch fall heavily upon your shoulder, and you giggle as he wraps it around your clavicle to pull you tighter against his chest. "What're you makin' there?" he asks, peering over your shoulder.

You hold it up to show him the thread dangling from the N of the completed 'MUN' stitched in the left half of the hoop's center. There's the suggestion of a flower below it— a large deep brown circle with a smattering of butter-yellow petals beginning to surround it, along with a few deep green leaves. "I'm makin' it for you," you say, and when Eddie lets his chin drop gently against your shoulder, your cheeks heat despite yourself. "You n' your uncle. See? It's gonna say 'Munson' in the middle. And I'm puttin' sunflowers on account of the ones growin' on your side of the fence." You turn your face toward him but can't see much more besides the curve of his cheek and the pink of his lips, which look, unfortunately, very kissable right now. You glance away and lean your temple against his instead to avoid temptation. "What's your favorite flower, Ed?"

You can feel the stretch of Eddie's smile in the subtle shifting of the skin at his temple before he turns his head to face you. "How are you just the sweetest girl I ever known?" Eddie murmurs against your cheek, kissing you there before leaning back against the wicker couch again, pulling you with him. You sigh, melting into his side. "I dunno," he says offhandedly, his thumb back to trailing along your arm, and you shiver as goosebumps pimple under the scratch of his warm skin. "Always kinda favored chicory flowers. They're like the color of the sky on a clear day. No clouds make the sun brutal while you're workin', but y'can't deny it looks nice like that."

It's quite sentimental coming from your wild best friend, and you stifle a sudden giddy giggle as you pull your bare feet up onto the cushion, tucking your knees beneath your skirt, which brushes low on your ankles as you fold up. "What?" Eddie snaps playfully. "Y'ask me what flower I like the best and then y'laugh at my answer?" His breath huffs indignantly against your shoulder. "I take it back. You're the yuckiest girl I ever known."

Your giggles spike at that, growing in intensity, which is clearly the opposite of what Eddie wanted because the warmth of his arm withdraws abruptly from around you. "The yuckiest?" you question through your laughter, nose wrinkled skeptically. "What're you, twelve?"

You twist to face him, and as you do, Eddie's fingers ghost loosely along your shoulder, brushing to remove some invisible dust as the sour pucker of his lips draws into a smirk. His brown eyes glint with a sudden spark. "I think you know quite well I'm not no twelve-year-old anymore, turtle dove," he murmurs, and the sensual timbre of his voice conjures a spark of heat that makes your thighs press together beneath your dress.

"I don't hear no readin' out there. What are you two schemin' up now?" Your Mama's voice calling from beyond the window screen right behind the couch, harsh from shrillness and warning but not outright angry, has you immediately springing apart and scrambling to take your activities back up— Eddie, the neglected book discarded against the wicker arm, and you, the neglected needle dangling from your embroidery hoop. 

You hear the creak of the front door not long after, which Mama pushes open with one ample hip, searching with her foot for the step down she knows is there but can't see due to the heavy load of laundry in her arms. It's mounded in a large wire basket, and an occasional drop of water splatters to the wooden porch as she finds her footing and steps down.

Eddie is suddenly a flurry of activity beside you— the book thumps discarded onto your thigh as he clambers up off the couch with an offer spilling eagerly from his lips. "Here, let me—" 

He takes the loaded basket from your mother's arms, ignoring her hems and haws of polite protest. He bounds down off the porch, leaving her with a faint smile of gratitude as he strides briskly toward the laundry line to the side of the porch. 

Your Mama's voice draws your attention from his lanky form as she addresses you, saying, "I need you to go to the store for me this afternoon; fetch me a few things."

You're nodding before she's even finished speaking. "Of course, mama," you reply dutifully. "I'd be happy to. Just tell me what you need."

Her approval, clear in the softening of the crows' feet beside her eyes, brings you sweet nourishment. "Thank you, dear. I'll make you up a list—"

"Oh!" Eddie's quick interjection draws both your eyes— hers hawkish, yours doe-like. He plops the wire basket of laundry in the grass beside the clothesline and toddles over, ducking his shoulders to the side, brows tugged up innocently as he looks at your Mama. "You know," he says, "my uncle's been needing a few things from the general store, too." He glances from her to you and then back. "Maybe y/n and I could go together? Use his handcart for the flour sack?"

Eddie shoots your Mama another one of his award-winning smiles, and while she doesn't quite melt like butter— not in the way you do— you soon find yourself mosying down that dirt path, dragging the handcart behind you, paper list clutched in your fingers as Eddie whistles your way into town.

A scant few hours later, you're walking back down that path in the opposite direction, handcart filled with the spoils of your bounty, your apron pockets newly laden too. In town, you'd checked down Mama's list one by one: purchased some meats from the butcher, then canned vegetables, a sack of flour and a smaller sack of sugar at the general store, plus some laundry soap to replenish what had been used up today and some chewing tobacco for Wayne. Eddie had, in fact, stretched the truth in saying that Wayne had been aiming to go to the general store too, but you couldn't begrudge him the fib. 

It wasn't the only thing he'd fibbed about, too. Rather than using the handcart to tow the heavy bag of flour, Eddie had very adamantly insisted on loading all the smaller purchases in there so you didn't have to carry them, hefting the heavy sack onto one shoulder with ease. You can't deny that the display of strength— his bicep flexed, one ruddy hand holding it in place, but his expression showing no sign of strain as he lopes easily in stride with you— sent a stirring straight to the deepest parts of your belly. And your best friend seems to know it, too; when you cast him a glance laden with the honey of your want, he smirks back at you, preening at the sight of your appreciation, though a bashful blush also dusts his nose. 

Soon enough, your familiar blue and red houses loom back into view, and the rusty metal frame of the handcart squeaks its way along as it trails behind you. As you tromp up the path to your home, dropping the handle of the handcart and snatching up the perishable paper sachets of meat as you mount the stairs, Eddie follows you with the flour bag. He's still whistling like he had when you'd first left, none the worse for wear after walking and shopping and hauling that heavy sack all the way back home for you. 

You meet your Mama in the dining room where she's polishing the silver— spoons, knives, and forks are all laid out in orderly rows on the tablecloth, and her eyes widen with brief surprise when she sees how Eddie has the flour bag slung over his shoulder. "Where d'you want this, ma'am?" he asks politely.

"In the pantry— just through here. The door's on your left."

Eddie disappears through the archway, and your Mama rises from the dining room table to assess the meats you'd bought, nodding in approval as she takes them from you to put in the icebox. You bring in the other items, depositing them into their rightful places to another approving nod from your mother. 

"You did good," she says. "Both of you." 

Before she can return to cleaning the silver, you dig in your apron pocket for the purchase that you're most excited to show her. You smile as your fingertips skim silk, but you reach past it, seeking the three round disks instead and pulling them out to spread in your palm and show her.

Your last stop in town had been to the tailor's, where you searched for a button to repair the one missing on Mama's favorite house dress. You'd been disappointed not to find a perfect match for the original buttons, but since they were just a few cents each, you'd decided to buy enough to replace all of Mama's buttons. You pull them out and show them to her, face bright with innocent pleasure.

"I got you these, Mama. They were just a few cents each from my allowance," you tell her. "I know you were real sad when you lost the button off your dress, so I was thinkin' I could sew them on for you. And I got enough to make 'em all match, too."

You can feel Eddie's heavy footsteps stop right beside you, but you only have eyes for Mama— your Mama, whose face has crumpled in a rare show of sentimentality. "Why, y/n!" Your name comes out in a hush of awed breath, soft as the silk in your apron pocket. "That's very sweet of you, honey. You din't have to do that."

"I wanted to," you assure her genuinely, and the brush of Eddie's hot elbow against your arm, which lingers long enough to let you know it wasn't accidental, pleases you just as much as the affection on your Mama's face.

"Ma'am?" 

Mama glances from the buttons on your open palm toward Eddie, her face smooth and unburdened as he continues somewhat hesitantly, "I'm not presumin' to know what you have planned for the afternoon, but I was wonderin' if it would be possible for y/n to come with me on a quick ride?"

When she merely stares at him without replying— not shutting him down, but not encouraging him either— Eddie stuffs his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels as he continues quickly. "Jonathan Byers told me there's a field bloomin' full of wildflowers still this late in the season. Said he happened upon it just this week. And I was thinkin' maybe she'd like to see it, considerin' how she really likes flowers."

You blink at Eddie, noting the cautious optimism on his face. You wonder if he knows it's a bold request— asking you to go out after reading with you all morning, not to mention alone and unaccompanied. And you think, judging by the way his eyes crinkle just slightly in a subtle wince, maybe he does, though you aren't sure that wince would be noticeable to anyone but you, who has gazed at your best friend's face more often than anyone in the world, except perhaps Wayne. 

It's a bold request— bordering on too bold if you had to make a supposition. Yet, now that the question has been asked, it cannot be swallowed back up again.

Mama's face hasn't quite soured, though it has lost some of that warmth from a moment ago as her discerning eyes scan first Eddie's face and then yours. And as her words echo in your head— 'Y'aren't to go off with the Munson boy anymore; it's not proper at your grown age'— you anticipate the same sentiment to fall from her thin lips.

Your Mama offers the second surprise of the day.

"One hour," she says, brows raised nearly to her hairline as she levels you with a loaded look. "Go'n visit the flower field and come straight back. No dawdlin’, no galavantin’. You hear?"

The shock that races through you is rivaled only by a sharp welling-up of giddiness that you fight valiantly to keep from showing on your face. "Yes, Mama," you reply obediently, managing to keep that quivering excitement from leaking into your voice. "I promise. I won't even take Guinnie so's to save time. I'll just grab my bloomers." You glance at Eddie, and it's much harder not to react when you see the eager sparkle in his eye, the one he can't quite stifle even in your mother's presence. Your suggestion comes out in a rush of words, bending up at the end like a question. "Go'n get Merlin ready, 'n I'll meet you by the truck?"

You want to run, to race up the stairs to your room, rip on your bloomers, and fling yourself from the window in your impatience to reach the ground. You're able to contain the impulse long enough to see Eddie jerk his chin in a nod before you turn away, lifting each foot and setting it down deliberately, walking with measured steps toward the staircase. But once they're out of sight— once you've let Mama and Eddie slip from view behind the wall and placed the first foot upon the bottom step— you can't quite keep a giggle of utter delight from slipping out as you abandon the pretense of calm and rush up to your room.

Merlin's hooves thump softly as he treads over grass and dirt, and your hips sway in time with his haunches as you lean against the broad, strong back of your best friend, cheek pressed to the linen of his shirt. It's warmer now than it had been on the walk back from the general store, and that heat is sinking into your muscles as the sun glows upon the top of your head, turning your eyes heavy and your body languid aside from the grip you have on Eddie. Your arms are wrapped snugly around his middle, your hands locked around your forearms, and his arm is tangled up between. Eddie's skin is a little rougher than yours, his arm hairier, and his hand calloused and dry and practically burning hot, but it's a welcome contrast. There's something about the way Eddie has wedged it between yours as if to ensure you won't let go of him, something that makes a certain feeling stretch and curl around your ribs and sternum, nuzzling the same way your cheek does against the plane of his shoulder— affectionate, appreciative. Content.

You're content to hold Eddie and let him guide you, eyes closed as Merlin continues at a gentle trot until a potent aroma hits you. It's the soothing comfort of honeysuckle and the untamed spirit of milkweed, mingling like a melody of sweet and earthy notes that dance in the air.

You've arrived.

It's as your eyes pop eagerly open that Eddie pulls back on Merlin's reigns, and the muscles of his back roll against your breasts, flexing in a way that is unintentionally erotic. You feel a pulse of heat low in your belly, but Eddie remains ignorant of your reaction. As Merlin slows to a halt, he swings himself down without hesitation, looking up to offer you a hand, unaware of how the sudden loss of his warm strength leaves you almost bereft. Still, you let him help you down, and momentarily, the allure of his closeness is superseded by the allure of the place he's brought you to. Your breath catches in your chest at the sight of the field, which is somehow more stunning than you had expected it to be.

The gold of black-eyed susans and the pale sun of yellow coneflowers mix with the purples and blues of wild indigo and ironweed; soft white milkweed floats like clouds among the tall grasses and ferns, and cardinal flowers dot amongst them like tiny spots of flame. The air is thick with the gentle hum of bees and the chirping of crickets nestled within the foliage, and the field is surrounded by a thick copse of shadowy elm and hickory trees. All of the landscape is bathed in the deepening orange of the setting sun, casting the landscape in a warm glow that seems to both deepen and enervate its wild beauty.

As the wind picks up, the sea of wildflowers ripples like a living, breathing organism, swaying as one, beckoning you and Eddie with its dance. And you accept its offer; you cast a smile overflowing with joy toward Eddie, and without any further fuss, you plunge into that living sea.

As you make your way through, the gentle swaying of the plants brushes against your bare ankles, rustling and catching on the fabric of your skirt and apron. You let your fingertips trail along velvety petals and ticklish grass, feet sinking into the soft earth still warm from the heat of the day as you trail a meandering path through the foliage. You are aimless in your destination, drawn by the beauty of the field you're bathing in, until, on a whim, you stop, spinning on your heel to find Eddie only a few steps behind you. The grasses of the field part like water to make room for him beside you.

Your earlier excitement has simmered to deep affection, sticky and thick like honey as the setting sun glints in Eddie's umber eyes, lightening his curls to deep caramel. "Ed," you murmur softly, "thank you for bringing me here." You suck your bottom lip into your mouth as he draws closer until his scent mixes with the sweetness of the sea surrounding you both: the warm smoke of tobacco, the brightness of laundry powder, the musk of a summer storm. 

"'Course, turtle dove," he murmurs, and it's curious that you're both speaking quietly despite being the only ones here, as if afraid the sudden sharp sound of your voices will wake you from a pleasant dream. Eddie ducks his chin, peering at you from behind the curls that slip past his ear to drape near his cheek. "I'd hoped you'd like it."

"Of course I like it," you reply, half-exasperated but still soft. "This is… well, this is the prettiest thing I've ever seen, I think."

Eddie doesn't reply; instead, he drifts closer until you can feel the heat of his body against the peaks of your breasts and the brush of his linen shirt against your apron. He reaches out, and you think those long fingers will wrap around your hip or sink into the curve of your waist, caressing you softly. But they don't. Instead, they dip into the pocket of your apron, seeking the item still left inside— the one the tips of your fingers grazed when you searched for the new buttons you'd purchased for your Mama. And you watch Eddie pull out a line of silk, which unravels to spill open from its roll.

While you'd perused the buttons at the tailor's shop, Eddie had drawn his calloused fingers through the display of hair ribbons near the counter. He'd skipped over waxy pinks and cloying yellows, lingering longer while considering deep amethysts and verdant greens. In the end, though, he'd chosen white— shiny white like a dove's feather. "So you can wear it anytime you want," he reasoned when he presented it to you, "'n you don't have to fuss over whether it matches your dress or whatever silly nonsense you women worry about." He'd grinned wide when you smacked him lightly for that remark before rolling the ribbon carefully up and slipping it into your apron pocket to join your own purchase.

Eddie's fingers are long and ruddy, cracked and calloused; his palms are dry, broad, and strong, accustomed to brutish work and the roughness required of a man of his trade. Yet when he reaches behind your neck, fitting the cool silk of the ribbon against the nape before drawing the sides carefully forward to wrap around your throat, his touch is as gentle as the brush of fuzzy down against your delicate skin. His tongue peeks pink between his lips as he slowly and carefully ties the ribbon into a bow, tightening it just enough to keep it snug without it pinching you too tightly. You hold your breath as he adjusts the loops, eyes locked on your neck until his hands drop and that umber darts up to meet yours. 

A corner of Eddie's lips crooks in a lopsided smile, and one of his dimples comes out to greet you. "You're pretty," he tells you, and you flood with more of that sticky-sweet honey as you brush your thumbs against his jaw, fingers splaying over his cheekbones to pull him into a gentle kiss. 

When you break from his lips, what happens next becomes an inevitability.

Eddie avoids the spiky petals of black-eyed susans as he draws you down to the grass, his lanky limbs nestling into the colorful sea. He settles you on top of him, and your knees press into the warm earth as he gathers your long skirt in his hands and you pull his shirt hem from his shorts, pushing it up his belly to reveal the divet of his belly button and the dark hair that trails downward to lead below his waistband. You work the button open unhurriedly as he searches for your skin beneath your dress, grunting as he encounters your bloomers. You breathe a chuckle as he pulls them down sloppily, releasing his pants to help him; he helps you in turn until your undergarments are finally discarded in the tall grass beside you, and his are pushed down far enough to reveal the semi-hardness of his thick length, which lazes comfortably against his abdomen. As you finally settle down on him, hot skin against hot skin, Eddie cups your face to pull you into a kiss. 

Eddie's kisses are deep, warm, and wet, drawing you into him until between your legs beats in time with your heart. Your hips begin to shift against him, seeking friction to relieve the ache, and as your arousal increases, so do your kisses grow more frantic— sloppier, less careful, more needful. He bucks up into you, swallowing your slight whimper as his hands snake beneath your skirt that has fanned to cover your lower halves, skimming up your thighs to take firm hold of your hips. He maneuvers you slightly until his hardness slots right into the slippery heat of your lips, his erection pressed flat against his belly as he grinds you down onto himself. 

A haze of desire blankets you as you move atop Eddie in the grass; your mind creeps with it, fogging until there's nothing but the feeling of his body, solid and warm beneath you, and his lips, firm and soft against your mouth. You move by instinct, rolling your hips until you're moving yourself equally as much as he's moving you. Your hands seek his curls, burying just above his ears as you grind down on his cock until you're writhing, whimpering, leaking, cream easing that slide and dripping down to coat his balls. 

The ache inside you that was sated by the feeling of Eddie's hardness against your heated flesh returns, insisting that you be filled. You drop staccato kisses to Eddie's lips before leveraging against his ribs to kneel up straight, gathering your skirt and apron in hasty hands to reveal the place where you will soon be joined. You lift your ass as Eddie grasps himself, fitting the fat head of his cock between your sticky lips; you shift until it stops bumping against you and instead nudges slightly inside where it belongs.

When you sink down onto him, and Eddie stretches you open this second time, it doesn't hurt as much as the first, whether because you've already experienced this or because you're distracted by how his face contorts with the pleasure of feeling you engulf him. There's still a pinch, but it's expected now; and as you fall flush with his pelvis, you only pause briefly before you begin to move again with him now inside you. 

You don't move expertly, far from it, but you allow instinct to continue guiding you. Your thighs cradle Eddie's hips as you begin to rock gently together, the mutual sounds of pleasure mingling to join the chorus of nature around you. You're enjoying the sight of him below you when he wraps his arms around your back, drawing you down flat against his chest as he takes over moving for you, pumping his hips up into you. Due to the angle, his movements are slight but still pleasant, and you enjoy the way he can now lavish you with kisses— brief tender pecks that land on your nose, your cheeks, the corners of your lips, your chin. Eddie kisses anywhere he can reach, picking up speed until you're giggling, and then he smiles, eyes crinkling with the force of his delight at your happiness. You return the gesture, pressing your hands against his ears to keep him still so you can pepper him with affection until he's giggling too. 

"Don't eat me up," he teases you, gently pulling your hands from his ears and weaving your fingers with his.

"You're the one eatin' me up, Ed!" you return playfully, and he hums as he draws your hands toward his face. He kisses each finger, umber eyes locked unwaveringly on yours, and your chest stirs with tenderness at the gesture; he presses his hands into the grass near his ears, shifting you with him to lean forward. 

"Use me," he murmurs, his voice a sensual hum. "Press down on my hands."

You follow his direction, using the leverage to lift yourself so you can move more boldly on top of him. As you do, you watch the pleasure begin to grow on Eddie's face— the crease of his brow, the haziness of his eyes, the flush spreading on his cheeks and throat, the plush pink of his lips that pucker around white teeth as he bites the bottom one, earnest and wanting as he stares at your face. The signs of his pleasure increase yours, as does the rocking of his hard cock snug inside your tight heat, a combination that soon has you panting, your head lolling loosely as you look down at him. Eddie's abundant curls are splayed across grass and flowers, dark tendrils that paint the yellows and blues and purples with a spillage of beautiful ink. The skin of his face and neck is pale as it always is but sun-kissed in the late summer, freckled from days spent working the fields. The sight of your best friend beneath you increases that tingling and throbbing between your hips, and with it, the movement you can manage in this position is soon no longer enough to satisfy you.

You pull your fingers from Eddie's grip so you can brace your hands on his chest instead, leveraging a new angle that has your hips rolling snugger against his. An eager groan rumbles in his throat and pushes through those plump lips, and Eddie's fingers plunge beneath your skirt to take hold of your thighs, squeezing restlessly as you rock on him. "That feel good, Ed?" you ask, voice quiet and high but hoarsened with need. 

"Yeah, baby," Eddie rasps, "feels— feels so good—" 

Your pussy flutters at the praise, and Eddie grunts, eyes widening in surprise as he blurts, "Oh, fuck me, you're— shit—" 

"Mmm—" The filthiness of Eddie's mouth makes you moan, whiny and pathetic, and you try to stifle the sound behind a bitten lip. 

Immediately, his hand leaves your thigh to find your mouth as he hisses, "No, sweetheart, let me hear you— wanna hear you."

His thumb presses insistently on the plump of your bottom lip until you release it, and he rewards you by caressing that rough pad sensually across its softness. You whimper again, and the sound passes high and sweet through the open seam of your lips as he drags the bottom one down, his index finger pressing under your chin to keep you where he wants you. You rock your hips a little faster as you watch him stare at your mouth, his eyes hazy and deep, almost hypnotized, as he plays with your lip. The movement of his thumb remains languid, slow and meandering. That is, until it wanders almost incidentally past your teeth to press lightly against your tongue.

Whether it's the unexpectedness of the action or the fact that you can feel him inside you in two places now instead of one, the feeling of Eddie's calloused thumb against your tongue makes you moan and shiver with an acute burst of pleasure. Almost instinctively, your lips close around it, cheeks hollowing slightly as you suck; you watch Eddie's eyes widen, pupils visibly blowing as you wrap a hand around his wrist, holding him there so you can suck on his thumb as you ride him. He moans, voice higher and hoarser than before, more breathy and uncontrolled; the sound spurs you on until you're rocking harder, mindlessly obeying your body, behaving the way it wants to behave. And your body wants you to suck on Eddie's thumb, to move until you're bouncing slightly on his cock, ass slapping rhythmically against his thighs as he gasps and stutters, "Holy— that's it, please— please d-don't stop, sweetheart, don't stop—"

And you've only lain with a man once, but the way Eddie's fingers are digging into your hip; the way his hand pinches your chin as you suck and lave his thumb; the way the tendons stand stark from the flushed, mottled skin of his throat, the way the rapid rise and fall of his chest has begun to deepen— they tell you what all women know as their men's pleasure begins to tip toward inevitability. You whimper, your own pleasure flaring at the knowledge of what's approaching, and the sound is muffled around Eddie's skin; you pull Eddie's thumb from your mouth, nuzzling against his knuckles and ignoring the fatigue in your thighs and hips as you say his name. "Eddie," you call, sweet and needy, your yearning evident in the honey that drips from your tongue. "Eddie, please, I want you."

It's a vague request borne of shyness, but Eddie knows what you mean. "You want my seed again, y/n?" he husks, voice hoarsened with desire for you, for what you request of him. "You want me to empty inside you?"

"Yes, yes—" your reply is a rapturous sigh of deep wanting; when he hears it, Eddie huffs harshly, rutting up into you in time with your bouncing once, twice, and then again—

And the inevitability comes to pass.

Eddie pulls his fingers from your grasp to squeeze your hips with both hands; he presses you down hard onto his cock as it jumps and pulses inside you. You hear him moan, the sound hoarse and high, and you sing along with him, sweet sounds of satisfaction that only subside once the warm flood of his cum has coated you entirely inside and the tensing of his muscles has relaxed to leave him a boneless heap beneath you. You lean forward hastily, hands dragging up his shirt to fist in the collar; instantly, as if he is of the same mind, Eddie's broad palms drag from your hips up your back to tangle in your hair. 

And then you're kissing him desperately. 

His still-hard cock slips out slightly as he hauls you against him, and you feel the leakage of his seed as it spills from your pussy to coat his balls, but neither of you care. You kiss Eddie, and he kisses you, hungry for the intimacy felt in the caress of one another's lips, the drag of one another's tongues, the sweetness of one another's breaths that slip into your lungs.

You and Eddie kiss until the fervency of your shared desire dips like the waning sun into gentle affection again. You notice that the light around you is dim as you calm; the sky has sunk past orange and blue to deep violet and pink, the oaks and hickories now nothing but shadows, signaling that it's time to return home. 

Now that you're both sated, Eddie presses a chapped kiss to your forehead before releasing you from the welcome cage of his arms. And when you finally rise together, looking down at the place you'd chosen to express your devotion, the imprint in the crushed flowers forms the shape of a single body— as if you and Eddie have become one person, forever connected, eternally entwined.

Eddie Munson never does anything by half. 

Now that he'd discovered what acts of service would afford him with your parents, for the next week, he makes himself quite abundant. You begin to predict the sight of those dark curls bobbing towards you from next door in the late morning or afternoon, brown eyes alert and hands ready to assist. When he's finished with the tasks around his own farm, like aiding Wayne in irrigating and fertilizing the corn fields or mucking out the stalls for Merlin and his uncle's horse Sally, he'll toe off his loafers on the front door mat and poke his soft nose around the corner of the foyer wall, seeking for somewhere he might be needed. In the past four days, Eddie has repaired the bottom step of the staircase, the one that always creaked so loud no matter how gently you stepped on it; tightened the joists on the banister to stop it from wobbling; patched and painted the wall where Pa'd cracked the plaster slamming the back door open too hard; and hung the mirror that had been propped in the corner of your bedroom since you'd brought it home since Pa'd gotten too busy to do it for you. Mama hovers in the doorway, watching like a hawk as Eddie works in your bedroom, her body half-shielding yours behind her, though the gesture feels less like protection and more like a boundary you cannot cross. But Eddie just measures, carefully hammers in the nail, and grunts when he lifts the heavy iron frame; he steps back, squaring his fingers and squinting as his tongue pokes between his lips. After a brief perusal, he drops his hands and expression, seemingly satisfied, as he turns towards you two to gauge your assessment. 

You beam brightly at him from behind your mother's shoulder, and it doesn't take too long for Mama to nod. "Looks good there," she says, warmer than you've ever heard her when speaking to or about your best friend. "Thank you, Edward."

"It's no trouble, ma'am," he replies, and the look of pride— the gentle pleasure that blooms across his face to hear your mother's approval— just makes you sink that much farther into the depth of your feeling for him.

If Mama suspects or questions why Eddie has been so helpful the past week, she doesn't share her concerns with you; and once she's voiced her thanks so explicitly, Eddie turns his attention toward slaying his next dragon.

It's about a week after you'd read together on the porch that he finds his chance. You're in the goat pen, refilling the metal trough with water from the well while your father works in the field beyond. "I know," you murmur consolingly to the gray-furred kid hiding behind your legs. He's cowering, eyes rolling, his small mouth open in a near-continuous bleat drowned by the growl of the tractor. "I know you don't like the sound. I'm sorry."

Your words do little to quell his distress; as you finish pouring the water from your bucket into the trough, he doesn't move to join the others, standing with his legs splayed wide and his back arched. He bleats and cries incessantly, staggering after you a few steps when you begin to drift toward the gate. "Okay, okay," you say, your sympathy for the animal winning out against your desire to keep busy lest you face your Mama's reprimand for idling.

Abruptly, the aggressive growl of the tractor subsides to a puttering hum and then, shortly, to silence. You glance toward the expansive field to find it all shorn now, the hay cut to flat and dry before it can be rolled into bales next week. You watch your father hop down from the tractor, his face contorted in a wince as the smallest goat in the pen continues bleating despite the lack of noise from the tractor. Where your Mama is short and ample, your Pa towers tall and narrow, stretched out like a beanstalk, with wiry limbs and a tightness about his manner that manifests in severe lines around his mouth and across his brow. 

"That damn bleating's drivin' me up the wall," your Pa grouses. "Kid's 'bout to get tossed in the crik if it doesn't stop that infernal noise-making." 

Your voice bends up imploringly, distress clenching in your chest at the idea. "He's just scared o'the tractor, Pa. He can't help it." He scowls, but his rebuttal is interrupted when Eddie appears from alongside your house, heading straight for you both. You and your father look at him, and your eyes rove over his form— he's dressed in overalls, his pale skin shiny with sweat and ruddy from the heat, though it hasn't dulled the warm umber of his eyes.

"Hi, Ed," you greet him, the cloud of your worry broken up by the brightness of his sudden appearance. 

"Afternoon," he greets you both, flicking his sodden bangs out of his eyes with a jerk of his head. "Been fixin' up my uncle's fence on the far side opposite your property," he explains, gaze locked on your Pa, "and I've got some leftover planks. Was thinkin' maybe you'd like me to replace some o'your oldest ones. It wouldn't be any trouble."

Your father pulls off his cap and rubs the sweat roughly from his weathered forehead. His brows flash as he fits it back on smartly, and his voice is much less gruff than before as he replies, "Well, if you're inclined to spend your afternoon workin' on my fence, Edward, I certainly wouldn't stop you."

Eddie nods, sweaty curls bobbing as he stuffs his hands into his overall pockets. You can tell he's trying not to look too chuffed, but the dimple at the corner of his mouth betrays how much he's pleased with your father's answer. "Happy to hear that, sir," he says, and his gaze quickly flashes to you and back. "I'll grab the boards and such. Be back over in a jiff."

Your Pa nods and watches him leave; once he's gone, both pairs of eyes, father and daughter, turn back to the kid, who has wedged himself between the wooden shelter and the wire fence of the pen, disinterested in food or drink. He's still bleating, though not quite as loudly now, but the way your father's eyes narrow at the sound of his pitiful cries has that anxiousness crawling up your throat again. "Pa," you say cautiously, chewing your bottom lip as a vein twitches in his narrow forehead. "I'm sure he'll quiet down soo—"

Before you can even finish the sentence, your father has stalked forward, snatching up the struggling kid in a splay of kicking legs. "No, Pa," you whimper, earnest in your protest but half-hearted in your delivery as that anxiety condenses to a thick lump at the base of your throat. "Please don't throw him in the crik; he's just a baby."

Pa rounds on you, eyes steely, brow furrowed deeply with consternation and stress. "I told you, y/n. It's been days of this now, and I can't abide it no more."

Your lip wobbles as you stand there, watching helplessly as he maneuvers around the other goats in the enclosure, heading towards the fence.

It's when he's almost reached the gate that Eddie turns the corner of the house again, carrying a few boards under one arm and jingling with each step as the nails in his overall pocket sing to announce his arrival. Pa halts just at the edge of the goat pen as Eddie looks up, his face instantly creasing with confusion and concern as he takes in the sight before him: your father, holding a struggling, bleating kid, scowling down at the gate that he can't open with his hands occupied as they are, and you, wringing your hands behind him, shoulders drawn up and eyes big and wet, very clearly distressed.

"Boy—" Pa jerks his chin at Eddie, motioning toward the gate with his elbow. "Help me get this open so I can be rid of this infernal racket once and for all."

Eddie lowers the boards to the grass, and while he doesn't dare disobey your father's command, you can see from how his eyes dart that he's thinking quickly. "He been cryin' long?" Eddie asks casually.

"Been days now, ever since I started up with the tractor to prepare for harvest," your father grunts. Eddie nods slowly, eyes tracking the kid's knobby legs as they swing wildly. You watch with bated breath as his brow furrows; slowly, so as not to spook the animal further, Eddie reaches out and gently wraps his ruddy fingers around the kid's front left leg. Impatience leaks in a growl from your father's mouth. "What're y'doin', Edward? Open the damn gate." 

He says Eddie's name like a warning, and your heart leaps in your chest, but Eddie merely peers closely at the hoof for the briefest moment before letting the animal quickly go. And had it not been for the earnest seriousness in his voice as he meets Pa's eye calmly, the question Eddie asks next would have made you faint. 

"If I can make him quiet, sir, would you still wanna throw him in that creek?"

The goat is still struggling in your father's hold as he squints at Eddie for a moment, his expression half-contorted as if he's undecided about whether to tell him off. Your heart thumps hard, your sweaty fingers wringing as the two men face one another— your father is nearly a head taller than your best friend, but Eddie doesn't cow to the intensity of his stare. Instead, he stands tall, shoulders solid and proud but brow unfurrowed. Not defiant. Just not acquiescent, either.

Rather than replying, your father merely steps back and drops the kid to its feet, not altogether kindly. He wrenches the gate open himself, stalking through and slamming it behind him; it bounces back open, and you rush forward to block the exit as he heads straight for the house.

His shout carries back to you, crisp on the wind. "If it ain't quiet by the time I'm back, I won't bother with the crik. I'll just wring its scrawny neck."

And with that, he disappears into the house, the screen door slapping shut behind him. 

Now alone, you and Eddie meet eyes, but there is no secret smoldering or shy smiles now. Instead, Eddie slips into the pen, brown eyes wide and solemn as he crouches to his knees in the dirt. "It's okay, little fella," he murmurs, one calloused finger stroking lightly between the kid's horns. "We're gonna help you feel better."

"What's wrong with him, Ed?" you ask, shaky with adrenaline and distress as you see Eddie pull a small penknife from his overall pocket.

"Don't worry, turtle dove." Eddie's voice is just as gentle as he looks up at you, and the soft kindness there makes you want to snatch up his face and press kiss after kiss to his lips. "He's just got a rock stuck in his hoof. That's all."

Your breath shudders out shakily as you watch Eddie take hold of the goat's leg, moving slowly and surely so as not to startle him. It squeaks out another sharp sound as he lifts its hoof; the kid's leg bends at the knee as it wavers slightly while trying to balance on its other hooves. 

But when it comes down to it, the whole affair is really quite quick work. Eddie works the penknife carefully between the stone and the horn of the goat's hoof, jimmying it slightly until the object comes loose and falls to the dirt near his knee. He drops the kid's leg, and immediately it backs up, scuffing its other hoof against the ground in agitation. 

Eddie is unbothered by its display of hostility. "There ya go." He picks up the small rock, tossing it out of the pen to land softly in the grass beyond. "Now you'll feel much better."

A potent mixture of relief, guilt, and gratefulness fills you as the kid falls finally silent. Relief that he'd be okay now. Guilt that you hadn't thought to check for another explanation for his bleating. But strongest of all is gratefulness— gratefulness that Eddie was able to stand up to your father when you cowered away.

"Thank you," you say, soft and sweet as you gaze into Eddie's umber eyes.

"No trouble, y/n," Eddie replies, his lips tilting with a lopsided smile, one cheek dimpling with the fondness of it.

For a moment, you gaze at that familiar pale face framed by dark, sweaty curls. The face of your best friend, the person you adore most in this world, whose wild restlessness— the fervency of it— is rivaled only by the depth of his care for you and the kindness that leaks obstinately through despite the world's attempt to stifle it.

You gaze at Eddie, at the face you've known for ten years. And in that moment, you realize that you love him.

In your backyard, standing in the goat pen, you swallow thick, welling with love for Eddie Munson. But you are unsafe from prying eyes that may be peering through the kitchen curtain; your voice is silenced by the threat of that screen door swinging open unexpectedly. So you do the only thing you can think of to show Eddie that you've realized you love him.

You brush the dirt off his knees, swiping the dark earth away with patience and diligence until the soft denim is clear blue again.

#blueywrites #td&tc #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x f!reader #stranger things fanfiction #st fanfic #eddie munson imagine #farmer!eddie #farmer!eddie munson #best friend!eddie

[pedrito-friskito]

My special prompt is for Javier Peña Ranch with a special combo for fluff and smut! If you're up for it! 😍💜

Fluff prompt: #6

Smut prompt:#6

Can't wait to see what you bring us!! Happy Sunday and happy writing!!! 🥰❤️

xoxo

SKYEEEEEEEEE ohhohohohoh let me tell you I saw ‘ranch” and then I saw those prompts and my brain said LET’S FUCKING GO. going back to the ranch is always so much fun for me, and this was the perfect opportunity for something delicious, sexy, and deliciously sexy 😍 I hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting my love!! xoxoxo

strawberry shortcake - the ranch - javier peña x fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: explicit smut, lots of teasing, shower sex, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), I regret NOTHING

It all starts in the morning.

As usual, Javi’s out the door with the sun, getting done the few things that need doing on the weekends, the Saturday sun beating down on his back with every step. By ten o’clock, he’s heading back to the house, the animals fed and watered. Getting closer to the house, he can hear music on the radio, and when he steps up the porch, he can see you through the screen door, dancing around the kitchen.

Every little thing she does is magic, everything she do just turns me on

Javier chuckles under his breath, pulling the door open and stepping inside, tossing his hat and his gloves onto the bench beside the door. You don’t notice at first, preoccupied with whatever it is you’re baking. There’s a bowl of cut strawberries on the counter, and the heat lingering in the air tells him the oven is on. He leans against the kitchen doorway, crossing his arms over his chest, one boot propped over the other, just watching as you unhook a bowl from under the stand mixer. The whisk attached to the mixer drips with whipped cream.

You curse, wiping the white off the counter with your finger and sucking it between your lips. Javier inhales sharply, watching your tongue dart out when some cream lingers at the corner of your mouth. It takes everything in him not to stick his hand down the front of his suddenly too-tight jeans.

“You’re up early,” he calls, announcing his presence. It makes you jump anyway, nearly dropping the bowl as you turn to set it on the island. You smack a hand to your chest, eyes going wide.

“Christ, Javi!” you half-shout, but there’s a smile on your face. “That whipped cream was nearly all over the floor.”

“Didn’t mean to spook you,” he says, stepping forward until he can twine his arms around your waist, leaning down to fit his face into your neck. You hum happily as he does it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I was hoping you’d still be in bed when I came back.”

“Well, we have to leave for Connie and Steve’s in an hour or so,” you reply, “and this shortcake isn’t gonna make itself.”

Javi groans into your throat. Right. The party. He’d partially forgotten. 

Connie and Steve moved to Laredo recently — further into the slowly-growing suburbs than the ranch was — and were throwing a house-warming party of sorts. You’d gone into the city one night this week to pick out a gift, returning with a few tasteful picture frames and a stuffed bunny for Olivia, and had reminded him last night you wanted to stop at a florist on the way there to get flowers for Connie.

“You agreed, Jav,” you laugh, tipping your head back while he lets his mustache scrape along your pulse. “Besides, it’ll only be a couple hours, then we can come home and you can have me all to yourself all night long.”

The mere idea of it makes his jeans tighter still, and he nips at your skin, earning himself a smack to the shoulder.

“Watch it! You know Connie’ll give me hell if I show up covered in hickies.”

“Love bites,” he corrects, pulling his head up, meeting your eyes. A strand of hair falls in your face, and he brushes it away, leans in to kiss your mouth, tasting the cream on your lips. “Mmm, sweet.”

“Love bites, sure,” you repeat, rolling your eyes. “Go get in a shower, cowboy.”

He pulls away from you reluctantly. “Does that mean you’re not joining me?”

“If the cake is done before you’re out, then maybe.”

“Querida,” he pouts and you push him in the direction of the stairs.

“Enough with the puppy dog eyes!” you laugh, still grinning. “Go!”

Ten minutes later, the cake is cooling on the counter and he has you pressed against the shower wall. The wet rope of your hair curls around his wrist as he holds you in place, your feet outside of his, your back arched and your moans filling the bathroom. His other hand is curled around your hip, grunting with every snap of his hips, the smack of your ass against the tops of his thighs.

He cums fast, driving his cock deep, and then yanks you up, banding his arm beneath your tits, his other hand moving to your clit, drawing fast circles that have you keening in his arms. You shower fast after that, taking turns beneath the spray, and you slink out first after kissing him soundly.

The bathroom is still full of steam when he gets out, and Javi takes his time, checking his discarded watch to see how much time he has. He brushes his teeth, combs his hair, shaves the bit of stubble from his jaw. When he walks back to the bedroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you are nowhere to be found, but you’ve laid out his red plaid shirt on the bed, along with a dark pair of jeans and his black leather belt.

Half an hour, and he’s walking down the stairs, fingers hooked into his belt as he turns down the hall to the kitchen.

His jaw nearly hits the floor, and his jeans are tight all over again.

You look absolutely edible.

Javier is pretty sure he’s never seen this dress before. His mind is a rolodex when it comes to you, full of details and moments and lists. Among those lists is his favourite outfits of yours — most of which are for bedroom use only, but there are a good few others that are outside-friendly. But this dress…he’s never seen this dress before.

It hangs off you perfectly, accentuating every curve of your body. It’s a pale turquoise colour, with little peach flowers all over it. There are buttons down the front, and the straps are thin, thin enough for him to know you’re not wearing a bra underneath.

Javi wolf-whistles, and you jump again, tilting your head back with a laugh as he walks into the kitchen, stepping toward you. “Don’t you look at me like that, Javier Peña,” you chide, pointing a finger in his direction. “You already had your way in the shower.”

“My way?” he repeats, lifting a brow as he moves behind you, letting his hands rest on your hips. The fabric of the dress is impossibly soft. “Pretty sure we both got our way, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you say, giggling as he presses his chest to your back. “I’m just saying, you got what you wanted, and we don’t have time—” The end of your sentence cuts off with a gasp as he slides his hand between your legs, pushing the heel of his palm against your cunt.

“Time for what, querida?” he asks, dragging the tip of his nose along your neck. “You know as well as I do I could make you cum right here and now.”

“Javi.” Your fingers curl around his wrist, and for a moment he thinks you’re going to pull his hand away, but you don’t. “You’re gonna make us late.”

“And Steve can give me hell about it all afternoon if he likes,” he replies, stepping away from the counter and the half-finished cake, taking you with him. You go willingly, melting into his arms.

Two minutes later, and he has you bent over the arm of the couch, eating your pussy from behind, the skirt of your dress bunched in his fists. Your thighs quake against his face, your underwear hooked around one ankle, and Javi lets one hand glance down the back of your leg as you cum with a shout, one arm reaching around to bury your hand in his hair.

Satisfied, Javier leans back on his feet, leaving a wet kiss on one cheek and delivering a quick spank to the other. It makes you moan and he grins, helping you back into your underwear, letting your skirt fall back down over your ass. You straighten slowly, still catching your breath, and Javi grabs your chin, kissing you hard, enough that he hopes you can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Ready to go, baby?”

Twenty minutes later, and you’re both in the truck, the gifts in the backseat, the strawberry shortcake boxed and resting at your feet. You turn up the radio as Javier drives, rolling down the windows to let the summer breeze waft through the truck cab.

Before you make it into the busier streets of the city, you pull your feet up under you, loosening your belt slightly so you can lean over the middle console of the truck. Javi lifts his brow as your hand curls around his bicep, skimming up and down his arm.

“I really love this shirt on you,” you mutter, leaning closer until you can press your lips beneath his ear. “Looks so fucking good, baby.”

He opens his mouth, but no words come out, only a low groan as your hand moves down between his legs, cupping him through his jeans, the heat of your hand seeping through the material.

“Cariño,” he mutters, gritting his teeth as the blood rushes south, cock twitching in his pants. “I will pull this truck over, I swear to god.”

Just as the words are past his lips, the streets grow busier, the countryside giving way to the suburbs, and you sink back into your seat, returning your feet to the floor, resting your hand over his on the gearshift.

“Are you okay, Javi, sweetheart?” you ask, your voice falsely sweet as you lace your fingers through his. “You look a little flushed.”

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and presses the gas a little harder. You just laugh.

Connie and Steve are excited to see you both, and Olivia doubly so. You’ve seen them a few times since you and Javi became an official item, and while Livvy loves her Uncle Javi, she loves you even more. The afternoon is spent in the Murphys’ large backyard, filled to bursting with lawn chairs and tables, a little inflatable pool for the kids, overflowing coolers filled with beer and soda for the adults. Steve pulls Javier in every direction, introducing him to their new neighbours, Steve’s new colleagues and the like. A few are familiar faces to Javi, and there’s the inevitable conversation of how it’s such a small world, inquiries about Javier’s parents, the ranch, etcetera.

And the whole time, Javi keeps an eye on you.

Connie has commandeered you as much as Steve has Javier, introducing you to all her friends and the neighbours. He’s watched as you’ve done the rounds, chatting with people, offering Connie help with refilling the coolers or setting out snacks. Olivia has most of your attention, however, and Javi watches more than once how she wobbles over to wherever you’re standing, wraps her little fingers around yours and pulls you over to the blanket of toys Connie laid out for her. You go willingly each time, a beaming smile on your face.

Now, Javier watches with a grin on his own mouth as Olivia giggles wildly, her little feet kicking while you blow raspberries on her little belly. Connie sits beside you on the blanket, the two of you chatting between Olivia’s requests to stack blocks or give voices to her stuffed animals.

“So, when are you gonna put a ring on that girl’s finger, Jav?” Steve asks, the words almost too loud, handing Javier another beer. He feels his ears go red as he takes the bottle, taking a long sip before Steve touches his boot to Javi’s. “Seriously, man. She’s an angel.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Javi quips, glancing at Steve before his eyes dart back to you. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Think less,” Steve tells him, tipping his bottle toward Javi. “It’ll just get you into more trouble. Just ask her. Honestly, Javi, I’ve never seen you this happy.” His ex-partner lifts a brow. “Or is the sex just that good?”

Javier chokes on his beer. He sputters, instantly wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Shut the fuck up, Murphy.”

More conversations are had, more of Steve’s friends joining the circle to talk shop, football games and the new sports bar that opened downtown. It all sort of fades into the background for Javier as his gaze continually returns to you. Eventually, Connie pulls Steve away to help with something, the others go to make conversation elsewhere, and Javi is left alone in his chair.

He’s not lonely for long, however, because just as he’s setting his empty beer bottle down on the ground beside him, you materialize in front of him, dangling a fresh beer in front of his nose, the condensation dripping down the glass.

“Querida,” he grins, taking the beer before reaching for you, curling an arm around your waist. “Come here, you hot little thing.”

You throw your head back and laugh, falling into his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck. He leans in and kisses the hinge of your jaw, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin, the flowery smell of your hair. It’s intoxicating. You sink fully into his lap, leaning against his chest, moaning as you go.

“Ugh, that feels good,” you groan, tilting your head back so the sun pours over your face. “These shoes are killing me.”

Javier nips at your earlobe. “Moan for me again; it sounded nice.”

You smack his chest, straightening slightly. “Javi.”

“I’m just teasing.”

“Aren’t you always?”

He just chuckles, shaking his head as you lean back against his chest again. Javi rubs his hand up and down your back, drawing circles on the bare skin between your shoulders, letting his fingers dip beneath the fabric of the dress just a bit.

You hum quietly, resting your head on his shoulder. “Honestly, Jav, how are you so comfy? I could sit on you all day.”

Javi presses his lips together, feeling your face grow hot as you realize what you’ve said. He tightens his arm around your waist, squeezes your hip through the fabric of your dress. “You know you have an open invitation for that, querida.”

He can almost see the goosebumps rise across your skin, and you wiggle your hips slightly, adjusting yourself in his lap. His cock twitches at the friction and you drape both arms around his neck, leveling your face with his. You peck the tip of his nose, but then your mouth slips south, kissing his top lip softly. He can tell you’re restraining yourself, and it only makes him harder.

The hand not curled around your hip starts rubbing up and down your legs, and when your knees part slightly, he finds his opening, glancing around to make sure no one’s paying you any mind before he lets his hand slide right up your skirt, fingers skimming up the inside of your knee.

“Javier.”

He pushes his face into your neck again, making it look like he’s whispering something to you, a secret for your ears only. “You think anyone would notice if I started fingering you right now?” he asks, and you don’t reply, but he hears the quiet gasp, the hitch in your breath. “You can be good for me, can’t you, querida? Let me play with that pretty pussy, but don’t let anybody know what we’re doing. Hmm?”

You twine your fingers in the back of his hair and tug, hard enough that his head lifts from your throat. “Javier Peña, you’re a menace.”

“You’re the menace, cariño,” he responds, raising his brows. “Who gave you the right to look so fucking delicious in that dress, hmm? I oughta teach you a lesson.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “Mm, I think I’d enjoy that lesson.”

He gives you a quick peck. “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Your grin turns full-blown. “And speaking of delicious, my shortcake was a hit, but I really think we should get home soon, Javi. There’s lots more whipped cream in the fridge, and I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

An hour and a half later, and you’re home. You’re home, and you barely made it through the door, a trail of clothes leading from the front porch and into the kitchen. The tile floor is cool against Javi’s bare skin, but he feels like he’s on fire all at the same time.

The bowl of whipped cream sits off to the side. You’re as naked as he is, sitting astride his face, your knees pressing against his shoulders. Javi’s got his hands on your hips again, holding onto you tightly, groaning into the inside of your thigh as you drop another dollop of whipped cream at the base of his cock. It’s cold — almost too cold — but the coolness turns to heat as you close your mouth around him again, the warmth of your mouth almost too much to bear. Your tongue rides the veins of his cock, laving at the base while the tip hits the back of your throat, cleaning the whipped cream from his skin.

He yanks you down hard, sealing his mouth around your cunt, pushing his tongue into your dripping hole. You keen, moaning around his cock, and the vibration makes him moan right back into you. You don’t let up, not until he’s cumming hot down your throat, and even then, you pull off him with a quiet pop, instantly dropping your head to lick the rest of the whipped cream up. It sends chills through his whole body, leaves him writhing on the floor, and he taps your thighs, signaling you to get off.

Javier doesn’t let you go far, pulling you back against him as soon as you’re upright, both of you on your knees on the kitchen tile. With one hand, he smears whipped cream around your nipple, mouth lowering to lick it up a moment later, and the other finds its way between your legs, thumb circling your clit, two fingers sinking into you.

“Javi,” you groan, your head dropping back on your shoulders, one hand diving into his hair as he scrapes his teeth against your nipple, reaching for more whipped cream before moving to the other. “Oh my fucking god.”

He drags his tongue against you before flicking his eyes up to your face. “Moan my name again, querida,” he grins. “It sounded nice.”

“Javier.”

#my fics #the ranch #strawberry shortcake #javier peña #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #javier peña x you #narcos fic #sleepover sundae #javier pena fluff #javier peña fluff

[yaut-jaknowit]

first of all I absolutely love your work honestly it is amazing!! And that last gawtin ask hurtttttt I was wondering if you could make a part two? If you want to of course maybe communication saves the day? I hope you have a good day!

Argument with Gawtin Part 2

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2276

Summary: For hours, you stay in your art room, sobbing away the time until the tears run dry. Now, it's the time to figure out what to do. You don't want to leave, you never want to leave Gawtin or Qui'oky. They're your family. You'll find a way to fix this or die trying.

Author Note: Communication in relationships are incredibly important! Here, it does save the day. Thank you so much! It hurt me too to write it because I hate conflict and to have my favorite pair fight...

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1

Once the tear ran dry and left stick, crusty lines down the lengths of your cheeks, you picked your head up enough and looked around. The space was the same, empty and void of Gawtin. Old paintings and drawings covered the walls from floor to ceiling, making this place yours. A room that the green Yautja had given to you. She done so much for you.

An ache started behind your sternum as you hung your head in shame again, unable to cry again. In an instant, you shoved it back into her face while flipping the middle finger at her. You sat up in your desk chair, chin level. You had to fix this. You wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let this go. Not her love, the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted before. The two of you were meant to be together, no matter who or what said otherwise.

How would you show how sorry you are though? You glance around the room. It’s not like you’re a hunter like her. You couldn’t bring how creature five times your size. No, you were her artist. You wield pencils, not knives.

What could you make? Something she could understand in her own culture, something that would be of great value. Then, you shook your head. No, if it came from you, it’ll be enough. You dipped your head.

A newfound determination filled your veins. You stood up abruptly and walked towards the only exit. Once you’ve reached the door though, you paused before hitting the button to open it. What if she was out there? You couldn’t just ignore her and walk out. That would be incredibly rude and inconsiderate of Gawtin. Well, you’ll cross that bridge if you reached it.

All was quiet and dark in the main room of her hut. Your shoulders sagged both in relief and disappointment. Where had she gone? Qui’oky wasn’t here, meaning he had to be with his mother. She wouldn’t leave him to his lonesome.

You left the safety of your art room. The door sliding close behind you. The floorboards barely made complaints as you walked over to the front door. A satchel hung off your shoulders, a knife sitting in one of the pockets. Not much more than for cutting stems rather than the throats of animals that could consume you whole. In another pocket sat a device similar to a GPS and could lead you back home.

So be it. You wanted to show you cared about her, that you truly did. An argument would not ruin everything you’ve built with her. You wouldn’t let it, no matter how much you wanted to take the next flight off this planet. This was your home.

Out the door you went. Cool, humid air smack you straight in the face. It was far better than the burning binary suns that would bore down on your skin during the day. You braved your way through the humidity and started a path in a random direction. You let your heart led the way.

For a few miles, you traversed with little thoughts of where to go. Only thing that filled your mind was the flashbacks of the argument. The skin of your bottom lip had been worn down till the taste of blood, an action you couldn’t help. Not when Gawtin’s voice echoed in your head to go home. You wished you had said this was your home.

And it was. You belonged at her side, holding her hand with Qui’oky perched on your hip. This was your family, you were going to fight tooth and nail for it.

A gut feeling told you to stop. For a moment, you prayed it wasn’t an instinct you were being hunted. The hairs along your neck never raised. You relaxed and scanned the surrounding area until a feeling drew you towards your right. A feeling you followed until you found a shiny rock. The colors that matched the same hue as Gawtin’s dark, forest green. It was slipped into the main pocket and sealed off from the world it once sat in.

For what was probably hours, you continued to do this even after the yawn broke across you face. When your satchel began to dig into your shoulder uncomfortably, you called it a night.

Flowers, tied together with a thin string were held in one of your hands. The other held onto the GPS tracker, helping you to trek in the right direction home. You couldn’t believe you had found yourself five miles away from the hut. The walk back would take you forever especially with how the terrain was. This is a jungle that ranged from steep mountains to gushing rivers. A few rocks had been picked up from the riverbeds and snuck their way into your satchel as well.

Though it took at least another three hours to return home, the two suns beginning to peek through the trees, you made it. Your clothes were soaked through with sticky sweat. Hunger twisted your gut with each desperate call for food. You were smart enough to have a waterskin attached to your satchel so you didn’t perish from dehydration that far from home.

The familiar forest green roof/walls met your vision as you pushed through the thickest part of the foliage that surrounded the cottage. Home. You smiled in relief and trudged up to the door. Without even thinking, too exhausted to even think up thoughts, you pushed your way into the home. Gawtin still wasn’t home. You huffed and entered your art room.

Your satchel’s contents was dumped onto tabletop. The flowers were untied ands laid out as well. It may all look like junk you’ve picked up from the jungle’s floor, but to you, it was unmade art. All it was needing was to be pieced together, like a puzzle. You had the hands to do it.

Like the artist the whole town knew you as, you began to piece what items could go together. Even with the need to collapse and sleep for ten hours straight pulled at your mind, you pushed through.

When you grew irritated when some pieces didn’t want to fit with one another, you set it off to the side and looked at the flowers. All of them had long stems, perfect for what you wanted to do. You had also grabbed a lot, possibly too many but you didn’t want to trek all the way back out there and get more.

Covered in dirt, your hands began to weave the stems carefully with one another. A pattern you had pulled up on a tablet Gawtin had given you long ago. On the screen, it looked ease to follow but grew harder with each newly added stem. At times, you were ready to rip it apart and set it on fire. Somehow, you soldiered through and finally finished the piece.

It was far too large to sit upon your head, which was exactly what you were aiming for. You didn’t have any measurements for Gawtin’s head and only estimated on her size. Not like she was home for you to measure without her growing suspicious in the first place.

Now feeling better at the fact you finished one of the projects, you moved back towards the mess of rocks and wires on the other side of your desk.

Almost a year ago, you had given Gawtin a necklace you had specifically went out to the market for. That led you into a mess of going from one vendor to another before getting captured in the end. Gawtin had to save you from the trouble but she was never mad. She expressed that after she got you to the safety of the hut.

Everyday, she wears that necklace. A sign of either pride or love, maybe even both. But you loved it and it seemed like Gawtin did too. Now, you were designing two bracelets. Either for both arms or one. Whatever she choose to do with them was up to her.

Back in the seat of your desk chair, you sat crisscross and stared upon the rocks once more. Ideas flowed freely inside of your mind, anything for this to work.

With these being on her wrist, they had to be incredibly durable. Once a hunter, always hunter. They would be put under great distress due to her everyday routine.

The wire used to keep the rocks secure was the strongest one you could find within a reasonable price and at the nearest market. Though, you used one of the young bloods to retrieve it for you for a small price. But, you had to use what you get your hands on without Gawtin knowing. You could be resourceful yourself.

You set to grueling work of designing a bracelet that could hopefully hold up to any added stress. A thick, durable band was used to tie the rocks to. The wire themselves were difficult to for around the rocks with no heat source to soften the metal. You did your best in the moment.

Before you on the wooden desk table, sat two bracelets, large in diameter but could also be tightened or loosen if need be. Again, you didn’t have her measurements on hand.

As a breath of relief left your lips, you heard the front door open then close. Even in the near dead silent house, you couldn’t pick up on the footsteps of the lumbering giant. Just one slab of metal kept the two of you away from each other.

Both of your hands began to shake. This was your one and only chance to fix this. You took in a lung filling inhale, leveled your chin, and grabbed your three items off of the desk. Your feet marched their way over to the door. It opened a second after you pressed the need button.

In the small kitchenette stood the goddess of your life. Qui’oky was at her feet and holding onto his mother’s leg. But when he saw you exit the art room, he made a noise of excitement and waddled over to you. You bend down and scooped him off of the ground. He would’ve climbed you to get into your arms if you hadn’t. You couldn’t wait for him to get older…

Timidly, you stepped over into the edge of the kitchen, eyes pointing downwards at the ground. A submissive position you hoped would be please her.

“Gawtin,” you called out softly then picked up your gaze to find her purple eyes already on you. She was lax but not letting a single ounce of emotion fall through any cracks of features. “I’m-I’m sorry. I want to start off by apologizing.”

Qui’oky grew too heavy for you to hold and got in the way. You put him back down, hoping he would loss interest in you for the moment. The prayer was answered.

The items in your hands were offered to Gawtin. The flower crown held out first. “I don’t know what way you guys apologize so I did my best. I was out all night and searched for the best because that’s all you deserve. I should’ve never said those things to you. This is my home. I want to be here. You never took me, I wanted to come with you.”

The bracelets were shown to Gawtin next. “And… and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else besides here, with you. I love you so damn much. More than I could ever speak or gift to you. You are my family and so is he.” You fall to your knees and clutched the gifts in your hands as if you where praying. “Forgive me, please. I don’t want to leave. Please, let me stay. With you.”

It was only a small crack at first. The twitch of her gem studded brow before her walls came crashing down. Gawtin knelt down in front of you and wrapped her arms around you.

“I must apologize as well. I apologize for mocking you, for telling you to leave. This is your home. You belong with me, with us,” Gawtin whispered, voice rumbling deep in her throat as she held you close to her warm body. “I do not have excuses. I should have not taken my pent up anger out on you. That is my fault. A mistake I will not make again.”

Being in her arms was the best thing you could ever ask for. You sagged against her and sobbed into her chest. New, fresh, hot tears ran new rivets down the length of your cheeks. You did your best to encase her torso with your arms but came up short. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you cried and held onto her as your lifeline. Because she is. She’s your lifeline.

Her massive hand ran up and down the length of your spine. “It is okay. Everything will be okay.”

An eternity passed until the muscles along Gawtin’s arms loosened up enough for you to pull back and look her in those beautiful purple eyes. She still kept you in her grasp, as if afraid you’ll disappeared. “Now, let me see what you have made for me, my little artist.”

In that moment, you knew everything was going to be fine. She was right. This was only a bump in the road you’ve gotten over. This is life. There will be more but as a power couple with your sweet child, you’ll make through it all. You smiled up at Gawtin through the blurry tears blocking your vision. Alien or not, you love her.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x you #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Gawtin #gawtin loves her human

[oddballwriter]

i have a request for Steven Grant x Witch!Reader. They live in the same floor and never saw each other, but her cat decides one day to go out the window and sneak into Steven's apartment, the poor man was terrified when he got home and found a cat trying to eat Gus...

After he returns the cat, the reader its so grateful that starts baking him cookies, giving him "special" teas so he can manage to sleep some nights. I don't have more ideas for this, but i wanted lots of fluff:(

xoxoxo

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Summary: Coming home to a random cat trying to eat his fish is something, for sure. And it turns out their owner is something too, but he actually kind of likes it.  

Warnings: One use of Y/N. Reader has a collection of little bones and other stuff. None that I actually know of. 

Author’s Snip: This request was nice but for some reason my brain just couldn't find the confidence and energy. If this sucks, anon, I'm sorry. And also this is not proof read.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Coming home to a cat swashing it's paw around in Gus' tank it the last thing Steven wanted to come across after a rough day at the gift shop caused by both Donna and his lack of proper sleep the night before. But it did startle him out of his groggy state as he rushed over to the tank to keep the animal from making his fish its dinner.

After a moment of wrestling it into his arms and getting a few scratches from the feline, he managed to get them tucked safely under his arm. Now Steven had time to think, "How did you get in here, huh?" he asked looking towards the cat and around his flat.

He noticed that his window was open, most likely having left it open for the sake of fresh air and he just forgot to close it when he left for work. Steven defiantly didn't live on the ground floor so it wouldn't cross his mind that someone could come in through it, but he guesses that a wandering cat could get to it just fine.

"Alright, you little burglar. How about we find out how to get you home. Wherever that is." Steven said as he held the cat in front of him to look at them.

They were a black cat with yellow eyes that didn't look all too pleased with having been caught. They were actually very lovely looking with how sleek their fur looked and the vibrant yellow in their eyes. Steven noticed a collar that blended in with the darkness of their fur that had the standard little tag. The name Sabrina was carved into the metal on one side, the other said the name of the same apartment complex that they were in.

"Okay, Sabrina -lovely name for you by the say- finding your home should be easy since you live here." Steven said to the cat before thinking a bit longer, "Somewhere." he added.

Steven's first thought was that if Sabrina managed to get into his flat then her owner lived on the same floor since she could have walked along the rim of the building till she came across Steven's window. So he went door to door knocking on each of the tenants' door and asking "Is this your cat?".

It took quite a while and a few faces, with them all saying no.

It wasn't until he got to the door closest to the end of the fall on the other side that he finally got something. He knocked on your door and saw you on the other end. "I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. But by any chance is this your cat?" Steven asks as he holds up the fur ball.

Your eyes widen a bit before you speak. "That is my cat, yes. That I have been looking for for fifteen minutes." you confirm as you hold out your arms to take the cat from him. "I came home earlier and found her trying to catch my fish. She must've came through my window." Steven explains. You sigh, "I am so sorry about that. I have a little window open in my apartment that I thought she couldn't get through. Turns out she's an escape artist." you explain for your end.

"I used to let her roam around the block but she's been naughty recently and been brining back dead birds she caught." you say.

You catch a glance at Steven's hands and notice the scratches. "Oh no. Looks like she wasn't easy to catch either." you worry. "Here. Come in. Let me get you something as a thank you." you invite as you move deeper into your flat. "Oh. No no. It's nothing really. It wasn't too much trouble." Steven politely declined, not wanting to intrude on being in your space. "I insist. You look like you could need something." you remark. Steven, for whatever reason, took you up on your offer and came inside, closing the door behind him. That's when he actually managed to drink in the look of your home.

Steven always figured that the flats looked like each other and had the same layout with the differences in their looks being their owners and how they decorated. And you have made your flat really look like something. The whole place spelt of nice herbs and incense, not strong and over powering, but just enough that it still had that earthy smell that soothed. You have shelves and stands that had a plethora of things like crystals, books, candles, and trinkets, and the occasional jar of... something. One was full of little bones. There were even a few filled with various things like herbs, charms, and other things, all seals with wax. There were some plants strewn about, mostly vine-like or more herbs. On the walls were various tapestries that showed different thinks like whimsical symbols, runes, circles, and cosmic thinks like stars, the sun, the moon, and consolations along with dried flowers. Of course there was furniture, he took a seat on your couch in the living room which was full of things that also matched that look and feel of the place. A lot of patchwork and quilted designs with throw pillows and blankets.

He was busy taking in so much of your place that he hadn't noticed you moving about in your kitchen. It wasn't until you spoke up that he snapped out of it.

"I don't have any coffee so I hope you like tea." you say. "Tea's perfectly fine." Steven smiles. "Is there anything you like specifically?" you ask as you grab a kettle and some mugs. "Um... I could go for something citrusy. If that's not too much to ask." he sheepishly requests. You nod in understanding and get to making the tea. In the mean time Steven looks around from his spot a little more. He notices on the coffee table that theres some more candles and little pieces of decor.

"You have a lovely place." Steven compliments, earning a thank you from you. "How long have you lived here?" Steven asks. "A few years now." you answer as you walk over towards the living room and set down a few things like a container of sugar and a plate of treats.

"I'm surprised I've never seen you. I met a good bunch of the people on this floor." you comments. "Guess we just never crossed path until now." you shrug. "Bit unfortunate that it had to be through my cat almost eating your fish." you add. "I'm Y/N, by the way." you state with Steven telling you his name in return.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about each other. Like hobbies and work. Of course Steven just had to ask about all your things, which lead to a tea leaf and tarot reading. The tarot was something about him getting bored with his day to day life but that things will become eventful soon and his life will change. As for the tea leaves, according to you, signaled that he had a big journey ahead of him.

Somehow, his sleep issues came up, to which you got all excited and told him "I have just that thing." and rushed back into your kitchen. When you came bake you had a little bag full of tea and told him that it was a homemade tea that helps with sleep and to just make a cup or two in the case that he can't sleep. If it were anyone else, Steven would have, politely, refused a bag of mystery herb that was claimed to be tea, he also wouldn't have just gone into a strangers house, but you were nice and didn't seem to have any ill intent in your actions.

After that, you and Steven were somewhat close friends and had begun to see each other in passing more frequently. Maybe Steven's even thought of asking you out to lunch sometime.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader

[violetarks]

Kishibe x afab fiend?

can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?

anime: chainsaw man

character: kishibe

summary: unbeknownst to other devil hunters, kishibe was actually the first forced to house a fiend for work.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns, second person pov, reader is the theft devil, my first request in ages!!, but i dont really like how this turned out ;-;

the first one to find out about you, other than makima for obvious reasons, is kishibe's work partner.

"i just gotta' get something from inside before you go, 'kay?" kishibe says, looking to his work partner quanxi. the woman couldn't be more disinterested at the sight of kishibe's home. it was a simple apartment, on the third floor, with a 'welcome' mat and scratch marks on the key slot. when the door pushes open, kishibe clears his throat. "i'm home!"

quanxi raises a brow, wondering why he was announcing himself. as far as the office knew, he was a single man, and stayed so with the help of (or lack thereof from) quanxi. walking into the kitchen, kishibe puts his things down on the counter, heaving off his heavy overcoat. quanxi stands still beside him, analysing the room. it was well-kept, maybe a little mess here and there. but nothing too bad.

when she hears footsteps, she thinks 'daughter?', but then you round the corner, dressed in one of his hoodies and sleeping boxers. her eyes widen a little as you wipe yours, yawning.

"kishibe? why are you—..." you stop, staring at quanxi, and she the same to you. kishibe leans against the counter, knowing that you two were bound to meet at some point. "who's this?"

"y/n, this is quanxi, my work partner." kishibe says, crossing his arms over his chest, "quanxi, this is y/n, the theft devil."

in a split second, you and quanxi charge at each other, quanxi drawing her blades and you turning your hoodie into a sword by ripping it off your body. kishibe frowns, now knowing his hoodie was no longer his.

"leave this residence!" you shout, jabbing the handle of your sword into her stomach. quanxi blocks, gaining her footing. "don't ever return!"

"you've grown weak, since the last time i saw you." she replies, kicking your side and watching you tumble back a few paces. quanxi knocks you off your feet, getting on top of you and holding her blade to your throat whilst yours was pointed into her stomach.

"alright, stop that." kishibe huffs, clapping his hands. he rests one on quanxi's shoulder. "get off her."

"you're housing this fiend?" quanxi spits, staring down at you. you glare at her, opting to stick out your tongue and thrash a little around her. "does... makima know?"

"surrender your life and i'll make you into a pretty bow!" you scowl, kicking your legs beneath her. she tilts her head at your threats.

"you think i would willingly let the theft devil stay in my home?" kishibe mutters, tugging quanxi up. she brushes the dirt off her as you stand as well, trying to lunge at her when kishibe holds you back. "makima put her under my care a few months ago, since the last host we fought got away from us."

you frown, looking away and tossing your sword into the pile of clothes in the corner. "your partner is a hybrid, kishibe. i can smell the distasteful scent." you huff, tugging on his shirt that you wore, "you devil hunters are the strangest beings on earth, working with your enemies..."

"calm it, y/n." he says, standing in front of you. you roll your eyes, crossing your arms and turning away, marching to the balcony where you throw open the sliding door and lean against the railing. the wind blows the shirt gently and kishibe looks back at quanxi. "she's a bit possessive."

"the theft devil often is." quanxi responds, fixing her jacket, "it seems she's claimed you as hers."

"she's technically mine since she's living under my roof." kishibe defends, hands on his hips.

quanxi looks around the apartment. "it doesn't look like it." she grabs her blade, sheathing it, and walks to the exit. "i'm waiting in the car. do what you must."

as she leaves, shutting the door behind her, kishibe turns to you. you're still sulking, making it known by the way you cross your arms and glare at the buildings in front of you. kishibe walks in your direction, putting his weapons on the counter. he then stands behind you, hands bracing the railing to trap you between it and his chest. you lean further into the railing, almost squishing your ribs in a desperate plea to get away from him.

"you can't fight anyone i bring to this apartment, y/n." he tells you, making you frown.

"why are you bringing others to my home?" you counter, tugging on your collar, "i don't want anything that isn't mine to come here."

"alright, alright." kishibe says, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his chest. you squirm, trying to get out, when you feel his lips press a kiss to your neck. you stop moving, shivering at his touch. "i guess you just feel nervous meeting other people."

"hm." you grumble back, hands trapped against your chest as kishibe holds you. he leans back, leaning a chin on your shoulder. "i want her head."

"she won't let you have it." he tells you.

"i'll steal it myself. it's what i'm good for." you claim, remembering her scent. you can identify where she is, sitting in the backseat of the black car out front. you perk up a little, kishibe tilting his head. "she smells of other fiends."

"i never know what quanxi gets up to." kishibe responds, rubbing the back of his head. he pushes himself away from you, watching as you turn to face him. "i have a job to get to. i'll bring home some dinner, got it?"

"okay." you respond, holding his sleeve. he stops and stares at you. "come home soon."

"i will." he says, kissing your forehead, "as soon as possible."

"good." you mutter out, holding him in his place. kishibe lets out a small chuckle, watching as you purse your lips. he then dips towards you and connects lips, giving you the gentle treatment as you eagerly kissed him back.

it had only been a couple of months, but you had managed to gain feelings for kishibe. and with your nature as the theft devil, of course you'd become jealous when you saw something that wasn't yours. kishibe had assumed it was your power at work, but slowly began to warm up to your attitudes and eventually reciprocated them.

he didn't know whether makima had planned this to make sure he was always on the public safety division's side, as you were technically 'property' of makima and she could do whatever she pleased with you, or if makima had no idea of your feelings. but kishibe knew for sure that he wanted you all to himself as you wanted him.

the second group to meet you is a young himeno, who knocks on kishibe's apartment door in hopes of getting him to help her track down another fragment of the gun devil. but it's early in the morning and you're in the kitchen trying to make your own breakfast since kishibe came home late last night.

"he better answer... if he gets mad, he can argue with makima, she sent me here." himeno sighs, placing a hand on her hip. she begins to knock again. "kishibe! open up! c'mon, this won't take long!"

the door swings open and you chuck out your hand straight away, trying to grasp at himeno. your vision focuses on her, and you watch as she pulls away quickly, her widening her eyes and attempting to push your hand away.

you fail to make himeno one of your possessions, making you dodge her punch and step back into the apartment.

"a fiend? who the hell are you?" himeno mutters, fixing her collar. she steps forward with caution, not knowing if you were dangerous enough to call upon her contract. "i'm pretty sure this is kishibe's apartment."

"leave now." you say, backing up into the living room. your hands held up, ready to fight, tugging on the collar of your (kishibe's) shirt. "or i'll make you my own."

"oh?" himeno giggles, tilting her head at you, "that's sweet of you."

you rush forward, swiping your glass of water on the table and turning it into a clear dagger. you dash at her, ducking under himeno's punch to push her against the closed door, bringing an arm up to strike her in her shoulder. but himeno is quick to react, side-stepping and hooking her arm around your elbow and yanking you down to the ground.

the impact shakes the table beside you that holds kishibe's keys, rattling in the plate. as himeno readies another attack, you roll out of the way and kick her in her stomach, making her land against the door. you turn your dagger in your hand, reeling back and launching it towards her head. himeno, quick to think, ducks down to dodge. the dagger strikes the wooden door, half of it sticking through.

"it's too early for this..." himeno groans, tilting her head at you with a huff.

before you can charge again, kishibe enters in nothing but his sleeping shorts, covering his mouth with a yawn. "mornin', sweetheart. what's for breakfast?" he questions, walking directly to you and unknowingly ignoring the other woman.

"morning..." you drop your act, reaching out and grabbing his arm as he leans forward to land a kiss on your cheek. he wraps a loose arm around your shoulders, making you walk towards the kitchen where himeno stood, confused. "i was thinkin' we go out for lunch. as long as i can see you, it shouldn't be a problem."

"um... kishibe?" himeno says, blinking at the sight of her coworker and a stranger/fiend so close. "what is going on?"

the man almost looks annoyed, but he wipes his face and sighs loudly, "what are you doing here?"

"makima sent me to discuss the gun devil shard that has popped up around here." himeno speaks, watching as kishibe grabs some sweatpants from the folded laundry on the couch and puts them on, "she said you may have some intel."

"well i don't know jackshit about that, so you've wasted your time." he calls, opening the fridge and taking out two eggs. he saw your bowl of cereal on the counter and placed it in front of you with a spoon, watching you begin to eat with your eyes on the two strangers. "i see you've met y/n."

"that fiend?" himeno scoffs, crossing her arms as she watches you eat your breakfast. aki's eye twitched at how familiar you sat in the room of devil hunters. "how long has she been under your watch?"

"probably around half a year now. surprised nobody else has noticed, to be honest." kishibe says, watching as you sit in silence now, "you two should become friends."

"fuck off." himeno grunts, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

"no way!" you shout, slamming your half-empty bowl on the bench.

"fine." kishibe responds, shrugging his shoulders. he waits until you return to eating to speak to himeno. "you should get goin'."

"right..." she sighs, collecting herself, "you stay safe, kishibe."

"you too." he says, watching as she leaves the apartment. he then lets out a breath, ruffling your hair. "c'mon, y/n. you can't keep doin' that every time someone comes in, got it?"

"whatever!" you call, pushing his hand away, "stop bringing random people in here!"

your complaints are common, but kishibe can't help that. he only nods, like always, and kisses the side of your head.

"alright, sweetheart. i won't." he chuckles, sitting beside you.

he hears about the next time he goes into work. makima asks him to keep the secret of you quieter, even though she was the one who sent himeno to his place knowing full well you were there. he begrudgingly agrees.

he listens because he would rather die than lose you. there's no way he'd let you land in the hands of makima...

you stole his heart. and he knew you had no intention of giving it back or sharing.

#kishibe #kishibe x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man kishibe #chainsaw man kishibe x reader #csm #csm x reader

[plutoccult]

THREE LITTLE WORDS

pairing: jean kirstein x female reader

description: a love confession from jean shakes up your restless night as the two of you are unable to fall asleep.

word count: 2.6k

read part two here

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: hi, this was originally written on my ao3 account (@plutotown, same as my main blog and also my wattpad that i notoriously don’t post stories on anymore) a few months ago, but i decided that i also wanted to share works on tumblr too as i would like to get back into writing again. i’ll probably post mostly anime stuff on here (especially attack on titan and haikyuu as of rn), but i’m open to more. hopefully this is something i stick to, but if not, then at least i decided to expand sharing my works! anyway, sorry to ramble, but i hope you enjoy <3

it was common for you to be in this position; using what’s left of the candlelight to accompany your restless state. you always had trouble sleeping, especially with so many things going on at once, and the bags underneath your eyes were proof of it.

this time around, you were writing a letter to your father as it had been awhile since the two of you exchanged words. luckily for you, sasha, your roommate, was bothering connie and jean in their room, so you didn’t have the sounds of her snoring or munching on food to irritate you.

such peace didn’t last forever though as three knocks had startled you in the midst of your writing. you couldn’t possibly think of who could be at the door at this hour besides sasha, but then again, what if it was captain levi or hange? anything could happen in the middle of the night, but you supposed that if a major event was happening, the headquarters would be roaring with chaos already.

before answering the door, you quickly set down your paper and pen, hearing another knock to the door as you were getting ready to answer it. “coming!”

you opened the door, your eyes meeting with the last person you expected to see tonight. “j-jean?”

jean stood in front of you with his arms crossed, looking a little disgruntled, which made sense considering it was the middle of the night. you grew flustered as he wore a white tank top which revealed jean’s muscles that you had never noticed before. sure, you had become quite toned yourself since starting training as a lanky teen, but he was on whole other level. it was embarrassing to look at your friend and comrade in such a way, so you really had to keep yourself together here.

“nice nightgown.” jean snickered. you looked down and glanced at your baby pink nightgown that went down to your calves with its puffy sleeves and a little bow in the middle of your chest. usually after dinner, the two of you don’t see each other when going to bed, so seeing one another in pajamas like this was something new. if only this couldn’t get any more embarrassing. you didn’t really need jean having something else to tease you about.

“what are you doing here?” you stammered, trying to force your eyes to look up at jean’s face and not his physique no matter how hard it was to not stare. how dare he make this so hard for you?

“can’t sleep.” he sighed. “sasha and connie have been keeping me awake, and then i realized you have an empty bed because she’s in me and connie room, so.”

“so...?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“well, since you’re clearly awake, wanna stay up together?” at first, you thought of his proposal as suspicious, and yeah, it kind of was. he never comes to visit you at night like this. was there a hidden motive? who knew? you didn’t, and it’s not like you were innocent either, so you allowed him to come in and hope for the best.

“um, sure...” you replied hesitantly, no going back now. “you can even crash on sasha’s bed if you want.”

“sweet, thanks.” jean then stepped inside, his first instinct to check out the letter you were writing previously that sat out in the open for any curious eyes to see. “oh, what are you writing—“

“it’s a letter to my father!” you yelled out, quickly rushing towards him and grabbing the letter out of his hands before he could read it. “i was in the middle of writing it before you knocked.”

“oh, my bad.” he immediately apologized. “you can finish writing it, i don’t mind.”

“no, that’s fine.” you let out a sigh, putting away the paper and pen into an empty drawer. jean didn’t say anything else about it, and as you turned your head, you saw him begin to sit down on sasha’s bed with not enough time to warn him about the issue with her side of the room. “by the way—“

“jesus, are these crumbs?!” jean said in disgust. there it is.

“yeah. sasha likes to eat in bed. i was just about to warn you about that.” you forced a laugh, sitting across from him on your bed, which was notably free of any crumbs.

“disgusting.” he scoffed. the look on his face made you giggle, but you stopped once jean looked up with a bit of a scary look. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing, nothing.” you lied, then patted your hand down on the spot next to you for jean. “you can sit on my bed if you want though. i’m not falling asleep anytime soon.”

“oh.” jean stood up and wiped off any crumbs that happened to stick to his pants, moving on over to your side. he blushed as you two sat close, your hips so close that they could touch if they moved even the slightest bit closer. “uh, could you not sleep either?”

“yeah. plus, i still had yet to write my father back, so i took the opportunity to start writing it.” you shrugged. you really needed to write to your father more often, especially knowing how worried he had been since you decided to abandon your life’s plan by joining the survey corps instead of the military police. but hey, you had friends who had your back just as much as you had theirs.

jean wasn’t all that innocent either though. he missed out on writing his mother back more than you missed out on writing your father back. when it came to worried parents though, mrs. kirstein took the cake. he was surprised she hadn’t stormed the headquarters by now, but even she knew he was so busy fighting for humanity. “i need to write back to my mom too. i hope she’s not worried.”

“i’m sure she thinks about her jean-bo all the time.” you teased. jean-bo could never escape that nickname, especially with you around. although, he didn’t exactly mind when you called him that. dare he say it, but you were the only exception. jean couldn’t help but hate it with a burning passion when eren used it against him though.

“not the nickname...” jean couldn’t help but pout. his frown disappeared as you lightly nudged him, reminding him that jean-bo wasn’t the only thing he was known for.

“what? it’s cute. well, cuter than being called my stallion sidekick.” that wasn’t exactly the best nickname either, but it connected him to you, so he couldn’t complain about it as much. jean always thought there had to be something better than that though.

“we are quite a pair, huh?” he chuckled, looking over to you as you grinned and responded in agreement.

“the greatest, of course.” god, that smile. it was his weakness, but in this instance? that weakness hit him like a ton of bricks. with the combination of the growing tension, the moonlight slightly shining on your soft skin through the window, and the look of peace and innocence in your eyes (compared to your feisty look in the daytime), jean was smitten. your smile never failed him, and he hoped it wouldn’t fail him now.

“um, listen, y/n, i gotta tell you something.” jean couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t stand the way his heartbeat slowed, even skipped a beat when you smiled the way you always did. he hated it yet loved it at the same time, so this was now or never. he couldn’t let that smile ever leave him, not now, not ever.

“oh, okay. go ahead.” but you never had any clue about your effect on jean. sure, you were always on each others toes, attached to the hip as you both relentlessly teased one another. you always knew you and jean shared a deep connection, one that grew over the years, but you always assumed it was simply a friendship and nothing more. you couldn’t let a silly thing like feelings ruin what you had with him, but jean was willing to take a chance for once.

there was no better way to go about this than muttering your name and spilling out those three little words that would change everything. jean was always one to get flustered so easily, but the tiredness in him didn’t let him think too much, so it made all of this far more easier. without really thinking, jean lifted his hand and used it to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, hair that had seemingly grown out a little longer due to neglect thanks to the chaos around you. he watched as you grew confused, and that’s when jean said the words he had been wanting to say for months out loud.

“y/n, i love you.”

as jean retracted his hand away, your eyes shot wide open in shock. you had no idea what to say or do, you couldn’t even believe this was even happening. you felt like you could pass out at any second as the realization of jean’s confession hit you. he loved you. not just like, but love. it didn’t matter that you were merely teens in a cruel world where death was always around every corner. what started as a childish crush as cadets blossomed into an aching, burning, earth shattering love for the woman in front of him who was stronger than he thought he’d ever be.

the scenario of jean having feelings for you never crossed your mind. every time you pictured him knowing how you felt, it always ended the same with him brutally rejecting you and running after mikasa instead. god, were you dreaming? you almost wanted to yell out for somebody, anybody to pinch you all over until you started bleeding, but you were practically frozen.

“jean...” it was the only thing you could manage to utter out. even if you could speak in sentences, your mind simply wouldn’t be able to mush any words together, but you had to say something, anything. you knew how your heart beat for him but as the silence stretched out longer than it should have, jean sat in front of you, desperate for a reply. “y/n?”

“i, uh...” why couldn’t you say anything more? what was so hard about giving a proper response? to jean, it felt like a huge punch in the face, like he was being rejected, and he figured if you couldn’t manage to say anything, then he shouldn’t have said anything about his feelings in the first place.

“i knew i should have kept my mouth shut.” jean let out a sigh. you tried opening your mouth in hopes something more than “uh” would come out, but jean had given up hope on a reply, handling what seemed like rejection with grace. “just forget all of this. i’m sorry i forced my feelings upon you. i’ll just let you get back to writing your letter.”

as he stood up and began to walk out, you finally managed to say something else once you saw his hand hover over the doorknob, and it came out more as a yell rather than a normal volume. “no!”

jean turned around confused, moving his hand away from the doorknob but still standing in the same place just in case. you had his attention, but what now? “i mean...”

“goodnight, y/n.” he knew this was going nowhere, even if you seemed desperate to prevent his exit. jean grabbed the doorknob and opened the door, and as he began to step out, you stopped him once again, but with greater effort than before.

“no, don’t leave me!” you yelled out, standing up from your bed and rushing towards him. it all sounded so pathetic, you thought, but you couldn’t let him leave you, not yet. jean halted his exit once again, no matter how much it hurt him to stay a moment longer. he simply couldn’t say no to you, even at a time like this. “i mean... wait, please.”

and he did wait. that stupid, teenage hope in his heart made him wait. jean didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he was glad he did. you walked closer to him, his heart beating a mile a minute, and then you stood on the faintest hint of your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him unbearably close to you for a hug. he was so confused, not knowing what this could possibly mean in this instance, but returned your embrace and carefully wrapped his hands around your waist, not wanting them to rest too high or too low on your frame.

you didn’t utter a word and neither did he. this was different than the times you hugged each other for comfort in the aftermath of the many deaths you’ve seen. this wasn’t for consolation or just because you felt like it, this was longing. a desperate pining for one another that would crash and burn like the worst natural disaster there ever was, and there was no escaping it.

you trailed your fingers across his neck as jean gripped onto the fabric of your nightgown. you slowly parted from his embrace, cheeks grazing, noses brushing, and before you could do anything else, jean’s lips pressing against yours. there was no time for you to process it, no time to even close your eyes and take it all in, it just all went by so fast. your first kiss. you knew you should have seen it coming knowing he loved you, but seeing him express this more physically came to more of a shock than when he did verbally.

as jean parted away slowly, he thought to himself that this was probably a mistake. he had overstepped far more than he thought he should have, but when you took a step back away from him, he saw the redness of your cheeks and the look in your eyes. after getting a full glimpse of you, he thought that maybe it wasn’t that much of a mistake after all. jean then let go of you completely, using one hand to scratch the back of his neck and the other to tug the neckline of his tank as he grew flustered. he was wide awake now, so his mind was functioning at one hundred percent unlike before. jean was back to his usual self, the night no longer granting him confidence.

“i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. forgive me. goodnight.” before you could do anything more, jean finally left, his feet moving faster than when he dragged them across the floor on his way here. he couldn’t believe he just did that, and he didn’t even give you a chance to say a word about your feelings. what would you have said after that kiss if he stayed, jean wondered. would you have said you loved him too, or would you have formally rejected him and told him you didn’t feel the same? jean would just have to wonder about it all night until you spoke to each other again, and it would probably eat him alive like a titan.

you gently grazed your hand over your bottom lip, thinking about everything that happened before jean left. not only could you not believe he loved you, you couldn’t believe he kissed you too. you wished it all went down differently, that the kiss could have occurred on better terms, but at least you had the words he left you and the thought of his lips against yours to think about. still, if only you could have said you felt the same just as he said he felt for you. if only you knew how to say those three little words.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #aot x reader #aot x female reader #jean kirstein x female reader #snk x reader #snk x female reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #jean kirstein fanfiction #aot jean #snk jean #pluto writes 📝

[eashmo]

-Scream Queen - 18+

Warnings: Smut, small knife play, Teratophilia i guess, friends to lovers.

A/N: pretend that scream came out in 1980 and not in the 90s. Also happy halloween ya filthy animals.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1984

Tonight was Halloween,which happens to be one of my most favorite holidays. but instead of getting dressed up and going out to get shit faced drunk with Steve and Nancy at Tina's party, I was chilling at home, all by myself, my little brother was with Dustin and the rest of the boys and my best friend was doing business at the halloween parties that are happening around town. so, here I was. watching the horror classics and my most favorite movie, which was Scream. There was something about ghostface that made me tingle. i was in the kitchen getting some snacks together when there was a thump on the top floor. 

"the hell was that?" 

My house phone began to ring. 

"hello?"

"y/n!” Mrs. Wheeler.

"Oh hey, Mrs Wheeler, how are you?"

"I'm doing great darling, I was calling because Y/B/N just asked if he could stay over, I told him it was alright but I wanted to make sure it was alright with your parents."

"Well, they are out of town, but I don't mind that he stays over. He loves your house more than ours, especially if it involves D&D." we both chuckled at that and said our goodbyes. 

There was a loud crash which sounded like it came from my room.

“It better not be carver and his fucking goons” I walked up the stairs, i'm really not in the mood to deal with their shit. Last year they decided to toilet paper my entire front yard. They like to torment us misfits of this town. Thinking they are better than everyone because they have money and such. 

when I came into my room and the first thing I saw made my heart drop. My window was wide open, and my bedside lamp was knocked over. I don't know if I was getting goosebumps from the cold autumn chill flowing through my small room, or I was making myself paranoid to actually think Jason is going a little overboard. my  heart was pounding hard, leaning out of my window i saw no sign of jason and his friends only kids that were going door to door, my brother and his friends cleaned out our stash of candy before other kids in the neighborhood could get to it so i didn't bother leaving the front porch light on to indicate that the house had candy. 

I huffed and slammed the window shut. I was about to turn around until a leather gloved hand clasped over my mouth, I let out a muffled scream.

“Curiosity killed the cat, darlin." A dark, deep voice disguised with a voice changer whispered into my ear, sending chills up and down my spine. I felt a long piece of metal make contact with my throat. It was most definitely a knife. I started to struggle against the mysterious person's hold. His hand slipped off my mouth.

“Jason i swear to god you are crossing the line this year!”

"Shut up, or I'll slit your pretty little throat, and I'm not that asshole." he said, then began to chuckle deeply when he realized I relaxed against his hold when he told me he wasn't jason. But I soon went stiff again when the man began to pull me backward from the window. He quickly spins me around. his attire. was dirty, beat up white Reeboks, black ripped jeans, a leather jacket paired with the infamous white ghost face mask. The mysterious man smelled of weed and cigarettes  which was an all to familiar smell to me. so i played along.

"So what do you want?" I snapped. 

 “You've always been so feisty” he let out a low chuckle. He used the tip of the knife to trace my collar bone gently. “I just wanna play with you before I kill you."

“Is that so, Mr. Ghostface?” I smirked. He pressed the knife harder into my skin, causing a small cut to appear, and a single stream of blood began to flow. This caused me to moan softly. 

"Hm you're a little horror slut aren't you" he lifted my chin with the knife, i wished i could see his face that was hidden under the mask.

"My my, you are a pretty looking thing. Wearing nothing but panties and a thin tank top” he commented as his free hand found my throat. 

“Doesn't sound like you are complaining” I breathed. 

"You're right, princess. I might consider letting you live for you to be my personal plaything. How's that sound?" the man said with a playful tone. the pet name fully confirmed my suspicion on who it was. The only person I know that calls me princess was Eddie, who I've had a crush on since elementary school. And thanks to Steve babbling his mouth one day at school. I finally knew he returned that same affection.   

"Deal," I smirked. 

 “Hm, that's what i thought princess lets see how much of a horror slut you really are then, shall we? Shirt off and get on your knees." he demanded, slowly taking off my shirt letting my tits bounce free as I lowered myself onto my bedroom floor. 

"I can't wait to wreck this pretty face of yours,' he groans.

“take my cock out. Now". undoing the jean button and zipper quickly, I swiftly pulled him out. I licked my lips to the site of his cock. Eddie cock was standard. But it was deliciously thick and veiny, not waiting for his approval. I placed a long lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, giving it a good suck causing him to immediately buck his hips which pushed him further down my throat. "s-shit" he growled, this time his voice sounding a bit breathy. "just like that" his breath hitch when I went faster, swallowing him completely causing tears in my eyes. 

"you're sucking me so fucking good." he said as he placed a hand on the top of my head he started to face fucking me, wet noises and gagging began to echo in the room.

"shit, fuck y/n" he groaned and threw his head back. My thighs began to clench together when I finally heard my name which made me hum a moan causing him to almost cum down my throat. He grabbed a handful of my hair and abruptly pulled your mouth off of him with a wet pop. 

"I want to cum in that pussy," he said growling.

"Then do it, Munson."

“H-How did you know it was me?” His voice sounded like he was pouting behind the mask. 

“You called me princess, and I know your smell” I giggled. He sighed as he gently caressed my face with his leather hand, and the other removed the voice changer.

 “I don't wanna stop Eddie” I looked up at the black holes of the ghost face mask. “Strip for me, but leave the mask on and also put your rings back on” I said as I grabbed his leather clad hand, bringing it to my mouth and using my teeth to take the glove off him. He groaned deeply at the sight. He quickly put them back on and stripped. I stood up from the ground, and my knees were screaming at me from giving him a blow job on the wooden floor. 

“Mr.ghostface? Arent you going to fuck me” i batted my eyes.    

"Indeed princess, i'm going to have you dying over this cock" his now ringed hand went to my neck squeezing it lightly as he backed me into my bed. I fell back with a soft thud as he stood before me. 

"Let's get these off, shall we?" Eddie immediately cut off my panties with the knife. I was unbelievably wet. 

"So wet for me babygirl" his fingers gently ran down up and down my slick slit, making me jump slightly at contact.

"Such a sinful sight," he was prepared  to completely ruin me. Thank fucking god i thought, he suddenly pushed himself into me fully.  “E-Eddie” I whined. The feeling of him stretching my tight cunt made me gasp at finally feeling full. The feeling I didn't know I was missing from him, I was already addicted to him but now I'm also addicted to his cock.

"Fuck y/n, i should have done this sooner, you're so fucking tight." he groaned lowly as he tightly grasped my hips and his thrusts got faster.

“Yes you should have” my eyes immediately rolled to the back of my head as his cock pounded into me.

"f-fuck. Your cock feels so fucking good, Eds" i began to moan loudly, his head back falls and he lets moan out.

"You take my cock so well princess, it was made for you, y-yes…..take it just like that." he leaned over me, the mask was cool against my warm cheek as he pounded me deeper into the mattress. 

"E-Eddie Im abo….." I breathed heavily, gripping the sheets, my knuckles turning white.   

"Cum for me babygirl '' with that i saw stars and it felt like my body was on fire. I clamped down so hard on his cock he let out a loud moan in my ear. He contined to fuck me through my orgasim "damn princess, squeezing this cock so fucking hard." he breathed.

"Eddie!" I continued to moan as I felt another orgasim on its way.

"You're mine!" he growled.  I ripped off the mask from his face, I wanted to stare into those beautiful big brown eyes as he fucked me. His long hair is now curtaining our faces. 

“This pussy is yours, I'm yours, always have been.” with my words he began to moan as he filled every inch within my pussy with his seed.

My second orgasm hit me harder than the first. It felt like I was ejected out of this universe.he was right i died and gone to heaven. Eddie collapsed on top of me. Our sweaty bodies are melting into one.  

"holy fucking shit that was amazing" we both said at the same time which caused us to burst into laughter. 

“So y/n? I've been wanting to ask you this since I first met you in elementary…… wanna be my girlfriend”

Giggles “you are truly an oblivious idiot Munson, it's about time you asked me”

“Is that a yes?” 

“Yes it is Mr.Ghostface.... also, does that mean i get to live?" i gave him the puppy dog eyes.

"Maybe, if you are a good girl," he says as he slips out of me.

Masterlist

2023

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson horror #eddie munson ghostface #eddie munson scenarios #Joseph Quinn #Spotify

[lavender-z-love]

·˚ ༘ Assassins can fall in love too✧.*ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Illumi Zoldyck X Black.FemReader

·˚ ༘ Genre: Fluff, Cute, kisses, jealousy (Illumi), Slight teasing (Reader).

·˚ ༘ Warnings: Pet names? And Potential spelling errors.

·˚ ༘ A/n: Hello! Finally done with this one, been in the drafts for a while couldn't finish it because of classes but I finished and ready to post! Please enjoy. The dividers do not belong to me.

·˚ ༘ Wordcount: 1k

Illumi opened the front gate, waiting for you to walk in. "You first?"

The huge fuzzy demon-oid figure right behind the door stared you down. You shivered, "U-Uh..I-Illumi-", you managed to stutter. Pointing at the thing, he blinked at you before looking at what you were scared of.

"Hm? Oh! Thats just Mike." Once again, he turns back to you, waiting for you to walk in. "I'm not going in if THAT thing is right there!" Illumi stood confused,"Is it really that scary?"

A huge beast stood tall, furry wolf like creature. Its red beady eyes, glowing.

"Yes!"

"Hm..well, I suppose- normal people's guard dogs are tiny." Illumi, placed his hand underneath his chin. Thinking of possibilities he could get you through the gate and to his home. "He wont hurt you, hes just..Ugly I suppose. But, I can send him away if you'd like?"

"You promise? That he's harmless?" Illumi gave that same emotionless stare with a simple nod. You took a deep breath and began to walk forward. Making sure to stay close to the entrance enough so where you could take off if needed. Illumi watched with curiosity. The giant Dog thing standing before you, now kneeling. You stretching out your hand for it to smell. After a few sniffs, Mike started whimpering at you. "Oh!" Just like that Mike was rolling over for you to pet him.

Your eyes completely lit up,"Aww!!" Just like that your fears disappeared from the creature. Illumi's brow raised now closing the gateway. "Oh please, you were just fearful of it-"

He watched as you gave the giant guard dog large belly rubs and kisses. "What a good baby!" Illumi watched his girlfriend become bestfriends with his guard animal. This he hadn't imagine happening. "Illumi! Can I keep him?"

The expression was starting to show on his face,"Keep him?" In all honesty, he was a little jealous. You were scared of him at first, now so quickly in love with the thing.

'She doesn't give me kisses like that...'

"Y/n, you're not taking my guard dog." Mike nudging you with his head, almost sounded like he was purring. "You are so cute!"

Illumi turned away, facing the path leading up to his family's mansion. "Beautiful, enough..Leave the thing behind and lets go." Your giggling began to calm down as you pet Mike for a final time. Mike's tail wagged as if he was waving 'goodbye' back to you. You made your way to Illumi's side. You waved back at him before running to Illumi's side.

The begining of the walk was peaceful, nice. Illumi asking you how you've been lately. After all, you both hadn't seen one another in a while due to you having to return home for a bit. He had admitted to missing being by your side lately. You thought it was cute, when he talked so sweetly to you. Sometimes he was so naive to even realize he was flirting with you. "Y/n..why do you call Mike, 'baby'"

You smile,"Cause' as mean as he looks, he acts like a baby! Every animal is cute like a baby." Illumi was curious,"All animals? You call all of them baby?"

You nod, causing Illumi to think,"What about me?"

"You?"

"Yes."

"What about you?" Illumi stops in his tracks, facing you,"Why not call me baby?" You giggled,"Is- that what you want me to call you?"

Illumi nodded as he continued to walk. Who would've thought? Illumi wanted to be called a pet name? You always thought he perfered you to call him by his name instead, so the Idea of pet names never crossed your mind. Majority of the walk was in silence, that was until your feet started to ache.

Illumi could tell, even when you kept quiet about it. "Do you want me to carry you?" He asked turning to you. "What? N-No.. surely we are almost there."

He turned to you,"Your feet are hurting aren't they? Let me carry you." You bit your lip, thinking about it.. You didn't want to trouble him but your feet were killing you– "okay..I guess."

You gave in walking behind him, but he stepped aside. "What are you-"

"I want to carry you this way",He stated, gesturing to his front side.. Looking at his face, looked like Illumi was a bit flustered. You giggle,"Of Course, if thats what you want Illumi." As you step in front of him, Illumi places his hands on your waist and your hands on his shoulders.

He gives you a small countdown to jump into his arms. You wrap your legs around him, finally getting settled into eachother's arms. Eyes locked on one another. "What a scandalous position to carry me in Illumi~",You teased.

Illumi's cheeks flushed a bit, before he looked slightly annoyed,"Its not a big deal..You're just really beautiful."

"Oh? Am I just beautiful to you? Im hurt...put me down",Still teasing him.

His grip on your waist is a bit stronger, though you were as light as a feather to him,"You're more than beautiful to me Y/n. You are Irreplaceable, Intelligent, your personality like no other–"

Illumi wasn't so good at expressing his feelings. He was still so new to it. So to you, for him to say something like this it was absolutely cute to you. "Thank you Illumi". Majority of the time Illumi was emotionless, there were rare moments when he shown emotion. Because he wasn't so good with words he made sure to show you. Fortunately, this was one of those moments. His long, rich black locks tangled between your fingers. Your hands hold his face still, pulling him closer. You kiss his cheek leaving little lipstick mark behind. You giggled, alerting Illumi. "Whats wrong?"

"Nothing~ I just got a little lipstick on your cheek." You take your thumb, before licking it then rubbing his face. "There- all gone!" Illumi, still gazing up at you. He begins walking forward as before. A slight rustling of your clothing, your back hitting something solid. "Illumi? Baby?" He silenced you with his lips.

You pull away gasping.."I-Illumi.." Once again, with you against pressed against the tree.. Gently setting you down on your feet, with one hand on your cheek, and the other on your waist. Tilting your head upward, Illumi leans in for a kiss. His soft feathery lips carressed against yours.

Taking the opportunity to stare at one another for a bit. Your fingers stroking the assassin's face, playing in his hair, taking the time to observe one another's features. Right when the two of you lean in for a kiss—

Illumi's movements were so smooth and airy. Once the both of you pull away from eachother, you pulled him into another kiss by his shirt collar. Which caused him to lose his balance. His hands reaching out before him to keep himself from crushing you, caging you in against the tree; his hands were placed on each side of you.

Pulling away, Illumi whispers lovingly to you. "Ha...So pretty–"

"Ehem..Welcome home Master Illumi.."

The two of you freeze. You push Illumi away, proping yourself up against the tree.

"T-Tsubone! Heyyy..! Oh! Miss Amane too?"

The pair just gazed at you two, Illumi dusts himself off as he got out of the bushes you'd just pushed him in. "Master Illumi, your mother is waiting for you. I recommend not keeping her waiting any longer."

"Yes", Illumi grabbed your wrist leading your wrists and leading you past the two butlers,"Next time, please refrain from interrupting Y/n and I's intimate time together."

They both bowed as you walked past them. You'd look back waving to the both of them. Now looking forward at Illumi, accidentally catching a glimpse of his flustered face. It was obvious he was embarrassed Tsubone caught the two of you on the verge of making-out.

You stop him, this grabbing his attention as you instead of his hand clasping your wrist, you intertwine fingers. You can almost see a smile pierce his face. This time you drag him along.

His eyes staring, falling in love with you again. Something about you makes him question..How could he get so lucky with a wonderful person like you? Always so outgoing, so smiley, so happy. You were what illumi needed in this world.

"I love and cherish you Y/n..Always." See? Assassins are capable of love too ♡

Written on January 18th

#illumi x you #illumi x y/n #illumi fluff #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #Illumi x Black reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #Illumi zoldyck x y/n #Illumi Zoldyck x black reader #Illumi zoldyck x you #Hunter X Hunter scenarios #Oneshot Timestamp #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #hunter x hunter smut #hunter x hunter fanart #hunter x hunter spoilers #hxh fanart #hxh spoilers #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter x y/n #hxh x you #hxh x y/n #Hxh x black reader #Hxh x black female reader #Hunter x hunter oneshots #Bwam

[silverlullabies]

Always Been You

Summary: Aizawa knows that just because his students graduate, doesn’t mean he stops being a mentor to them. They’ll reach out to him for help and he’ll drop everything to assist, every single time. And then you show up at his door, asking for help that may cross a boundary he can’t come back from. But what kind of teacher would he be, if he says no?

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader

Word Count: 7.4k+

Warnings: Smut (18+), hurt/comfort, teacher/student relationship if you squint, dirty talk, porn with a plot, references to dubcon acts and drugging, afab reader, oral (fem receiving), creampies, Aizawa drinks his respect-women juice daily, social constructs of virginity are fake and toxic but for the sake of the plot Reader believes in them, references to toxic sexual education, talk of human trafficking, panic attack, college boys (because they need their own warning)

A/N: I haven’t written a reader insert in years y’all but I woke up the other day thinking of this plot and it hasn’t left my brain since. I just? Love? Aizawa so much??? But I’ve always had a thing for every teacher in any manga/anime so that’s not surprising. (Kakashi, Urahara, Gojo, Stein??? They just do something for me). Anyway, this really got away from me, especially at the end, but I wanted to end it on a sweet note. I have a small bonus chapter in mind to tie off the (possible) cliff hanger at the end of this chapter.

Aizawa Shoto knows all too well that just because his students graduate doesn’t mean he stops being their teacher. Maybe other teachers in other schools had that luxury, but not him, not in this profession.

He isn’t surprised when he gets emails or texts from students asking for advice and his professional opinion. They taper off the more settled into being a hero his former students become. What starts out as multiple messages a week slowly filters into a couple messages a month into a few a year until all that remains is well wishes on holidays and birthdays.

His coworkers go through the same thing. It’s bittersweet, he thinks, when they no longer send panic filled messages at simple villain encounters and only reach out with greetings instead. Despite them receiving a graduation ceremony and a license; not reaching out at every turn is when Aizawa and the other teachers truly consider their former students as full-fledged heroes.

Some of those students become closer to the teachers. What was once a student-teacher relationship blossom into friendships. Despite how much Nemuri and Hizashi tease Aizawa about adopting all of his students, they’re both just as bad. Nemuri alone has been named God Mom to no less than 8 former students' children and Hizashi is honorary uncle to 12.

Aizawa has always extended an open door policy at school, which for some of his former students, translates into an open door policy for his home. They come to him with wounds that need patched, or a place to crash for the night if exhaustion after a long patrol makes it unsafe to travel further than his front door. A few times, he’s had to work them through panic attacks or episodes of self doubt after a particularly bad fight. Usually if he sees on the news one of his former students involved in an attack where civilians are killed, he preemptively sets out what he knows will bring that particular student comfort before they even stumble to his front door.

Every once in a blue moon, some of his former students (who are all little shits, he swears) will come knocking with no other purpose than to check up on him bother him. They’ll breeze past him once he opens the door, bags of groceries or piles of take out in hand. They’ll mumble a half hearted “I was in the neighborhood” not convincingly at all and set about guilt tripping persuading Aizawa to eat a proper meal with them (because you don’t spend three years with Aizawa as your teacher without learning he’s horrible at caring for himself).

You’re one of them. Despite having been in the first class Aizawa had ever taught as a teacher, you still reach out constantly show up several times a month, the same excuse falling from your lips as you slip past him and into his apartment with a cheeky grin. Aizawa always grumbles as you replenish his fridge with actual food instead of jelly packets before cleaning up parts of his apartment all the while cooking him dinner, filling the air with polite talk and the smell of food that never fails to make his stomach rumble.

So he isn’t surprised when you knock on his door one evening even though you were just over two nights ago. He is surprised when he opens the door to find you standing there with nothing but a file in your hands, face flushed, and gaze averted.

“Y/N,” he grunts, eyebrow raised.

“Uh. F-fancy seeing you here.” Your eyes dart everywhere but his face. This was not the cool confident person that he knew. Your shoulders are dragged up to your ears, the folder held in front of you like a shield, while you shift your weight back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“I live here,” Aizawa responds.

“Right! Right…” you trail off, before blurting. “I need your help and you’re the only one I could think of!”

He looks at you, taking in your uncharacteristic stance, before sighing and moving to the side, holding the door open for you to come in.

After the both of you are settled at the dining room table, cups of fresh coffee steaming in your hands, he clears his throat. “You needed help?”

You jump slightly and bite your bottom lip, before sliding the folder over towards him. He picks it up and begins to flip through it, eyes raking the pages as his eyebrows begin to steadily climb his forehead. “The Commission wants me to go undercover in a sex trafficking ring. There’s been a recent uprising in human trafficking and the ring they want me to go undercover in has a massive influence in Japan. At least 27% of all trafficking happens due to them and another 36% happens through connections with them.” Aizawa grunts, reading through the same information that you were providing verbally.

“This operation has been in the works for years now and my part in the mission could destabilize the human trafficking in Japan and provide us with some breathing room to put some contingency plans in place for the next trafficking ring that pops up.” You tap the side of the mug with your perfectly manicured fingers.

Aizawa let out a breath. “That’s a lot. Jesus kid. Congratulations.”

An operation like that would rocket you into the top 100 easily, if not the top 50.

You hum in reply, a bouncing leg joining the rhythmic tapping of the mug in what he recognizes as a nervous tic. You’ve never been one to be nervous so immediately his concern and curiosity is piqued. His eyes slid to your face over the top of the folder calculating.

“What do you need my help with then?” He asks. If they wanted to bring him in for information or as a hero on the case, why send you and not someone from the Commision? Before he can start processing this enigma, you reach over, pulling the folder from his hands and flip through to the back, taking out a section of the folder once you find what you’re looking for. You slid it to him.

He takes it into his hands, looking down at it briefly to read the information, and then raises his gaze to meet yours.

“Your undercover identity?”

You nod. “They want me to go in as one of the victims. It would be easier and less time consuming than trying to infiltrate as a villain. But sources think they’re subduing them with drugs to make it easier to hold and transport the victims as well as prevent them from fighting back. With my Quirk, I’ll be able to infiltrate easily and find their base or bases of operation without being inhibited. We’re confident they’re bouncing the victims around several locations to make it harder to track. While I’m in, I can tag the locations for a future raid so the heroes can hit them all at once and minimize the chance of escape or loss of life.”

Your Quirk neutralized drugs, poisons, and other toxins on yourself and other people. You were primarily a rescue hero that took care of things like toxic spills, gas leaks, and exposures. He recalls one time a child who suddenly got their Quirk (a simple but powerful ability to change the structure of molecules at will) and wound up turning the air in a grocery store to carbon monoxide, poisoning everyone inside. While emergency workers and other heroes wore gas masks, you simply waltzed inside and gave the scared kid a dose of Quirk suppressants to temporarily nullify his power until he saw a Quirk counselor and learned to control it. All the while you sat there with him in your arms agreeing with him that space was very cool, not at all affected by the deadly gas while you went about ventilating the place. Aizawa could see why the Commission reached out to you for this assignment versus someone else with more experience in infiltration.

“And where do I come in?” He asks again.

“Sensei… I’ll be going in as a victim. I’ll be undercover for a while. Best guess is several weeks, worst is several months. I’m under no illusion that I’ll be able to walk away with my…,” you purse your lips. “… dignity still intact. I’m… not ok with it per say… but I’m willing to do it to save lives. Besides, I've already been set up with mandatory therapy before and afterwards.”

“Y/N… that’s a lot.” Aizawa’s eyebrows furrow together in concern.

You nod your head. “Yeah. But I’m the only one. I can neutralize the drugs and leave me in the right state of mind. Not to mention that bacteria and viruses count as a toxin to my Quirk so I’m at no risk for picking up anything. And I’ve already started on long term birth control. Nobody else can fill these parameters.”

He got that. It sucked, but he got it. “So when do you leave,” he asks, sliding the paper back to you, which you tuck neatly back into the folder.

“In two weeks.” His eyes widen and he sat up straight.

“So soon??”

You look up at him, something simmering beneath your gaze. “For you maybe. This has been in the works for a long time now on my end. I’m only telling you for two reasons. I… uh… got permission to explain it to you.”

His eyes narrow. “Why?”

“The first is to ask you to look after my cat, obviously.” You give him a cheeky grin. He nods, well used to former students asking him of this when missions took longer than a day to be completed.

“And the second thing?”

You avert your gaze again, back to fiddling with the mug in your hands. “Sensei… do you remember the night of the typhoon nearly a year ago?”

He nods, heat rising to his ears. Of course he remembered. How could he forget?

You showed up on his doorstep halfway through a typhoon that hit Japan and effectively shut everything down. The only people out were emergency workers and pro heroes that could handle the rampaging storm and assist in relocation of citizens who’s homes had been destroyed or help them towards hospitals.

He had pulled you inside, soaked to the bone, and helped you dry off while grumbling about how illogical it was for you to be out in this. Despite offering you a change of his dry clothes, you were still freezing, so he got to work on setting up the heater for you. It ran for four minutes before the electricity in his building cut out.

He debated for exactly ten seconds before pulling you into his bed with him, limbs tangled together, while he attempted to rub feelings back into your skin.

All the while, he was hyper aware of how you had taken off your underwear, leaving your breasts squished against his chest, while your legs were tangled together. He fought against the growing erection in his pants, diligently thinking about everything that would turn him off like the statistics of cats that die in shelters year round.

Your shivers die off slowly which leads to your eyes flickering up at him, gaze too wide, lips parted into a soft sigh. “Aizawa-sensei…”

And then he was taking your lips into a slow deep kiss, lips parting slightly. He drew your bottom lip between his teeth, mouth slanted across yours. One arm snaked behind the small of your back tugging you closer, while the other trailed under your shirt, fingers lightly caressing your skin in a way that had you arching, as he settled his fingers under the curve of your breast teasingly.

You sighed under his touch, as he deepened the kiss, tongue darting out. He moved, positioning himself over top of you between your legs. The hand that was behind your back was suddenly cupping your face in a way that seemed to sear your flesh in its intimacy. His other hand cupped your breast, fingers dragging along your hardened nipple in a way that had you moaning, pushing up into him, pelvis grinding into his hard on in a way that made him see stars.

His hands trailed down to your hips, tugging at the waistline, and just as you lifted his hips to give him access, the lights flashed back on, freezing Aizawa in place.

Shame flooded every ounce of his body. Here he was, taking advantage of you when you needed his help. What kind of pro hero was he? What kind of teacher? What kind of friend-?

“I-“ he started, eyes dancing around to avoid look at your flushed face. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He untangled himself from your limbs, unable to fully look at you through his guilt. Before you could even say anything, he was gone.

The next morning you were gone too. You stayed away for several weeks, the longest amount of time for you, to the point where he had convinced himself he had ruined that relationship you had with him. He hated himself for it. Sure, he had thought about you in that way before. Sure, he had had dreams of you before (starting after Nemuri teased him, saying you were always acting like Aizawa’s wife so when was he gonna make it official?) that spilled over into fantasies when he touched himself or even when he entertained other women. But he had never let himself act on those thoughts because he was respectful and responsible. And he didn’t want to risk driving you away. Until now.

So when you showed up a few weeks later, arms full of groceries, breezing in and acting like nothing had happened, he nearly collapsed in relief. And then proceeded to follow your lead and never talk of it again, even if it meant the fantasies became more frequent and intense.

“Of course I remember.” He shifts in his seat, this time averting his gaze. This was the first time you had brought it up.

You brought the mug to your lips and drank deeply from it, before settling it back down between your two hands. “You asked me why I was out in such a storm and I never answered you, but the truth is, that was the day I officially learned of everything this assignment detailed. And because of that I… I wanted to see you immediately. Enough to risk the wrath of Mother Nature herself.”

“Why,” he murmurs.

Fingers tap the side of the mug again as your eyes shifts. “I knew what I would eventually have to do. But the truth is…I came here that night with ulterior motives. Because I haven’t… done that kind of thing before. You were the furthest I’ve ever gone with anyone, that is. And I was willing to go further. Of course your guilt complex and morals had to get in the way of that.” You give him a cheeky grin, before the smile falters. “And in the end I was too embarrassed and too much of a coward to explain that to you at the time. What you must have thought of me… I became convinced you were disgusted and believed I was indecent. Therapy has helped me overcome the idea that salacious desires are wrong, but I grew up in an area where we were taught carnal wants were misguided and bad. So you can imagine the internal war I was waging with myself.”

A blush stains your cheeks as you become interested in the whorl design of the wooden table.

“I’ve never thought that way about you,” Aizawa says in a way that leaves no room for argument.

You smile softly up at him. “I know. You’re much too kind.”

He looks away at that, unable to find the words to say to counter your statement. He swallows hard, his mouth too dry. “So you‘ve never….”

“Had, uh.” You clear your throat. “Sex. I’ve never had sex. With anyone. There’s only ever been one person. That I’ve been interested in, that is. But I’ve never gone further than holding hands. And kissing. But mostly just holding hands. After that night, I tried to find someone else… but I could never go through with it.”

“I still don’t understand what that has to do with your mission…” he trails off suddenly, as he connects the dots.

Oh.

Oooh.

He swallows hard again and straightens in his seat. He gets it now. But he needs to hear you say it.

You bit your lip, continually tapping at the mug with your fingers. “I don’t want my first time to be with some sleazy guy in a dingy back alley room. I want it to be with someone meaningful, someone I trust. Someone I respect and admire and care for deeply.”

“And who is that,” he says, voice lower than normal.

“You,” you whisper, tapping at the mug like it’s your lifeline.

He could feel his restraint failing him and his knuckles turn white with the effort to not… do something, anything. “Y/N… do you know what you’re asking?”

Your eyes find his obsidian ones. “Of course. It’s always been you. It wasn’t until that day, when I became aware of all that my assignment truly entailed, and I knew I needed to be with someone else first so I had that memory not be tarnished by this mission… that’s when I understood then that I’ve liked you for a very long time, when I realized I could think of no one else but you to go to. That there was no one else I wanted but you and that I’ve subconsciously been wanting you this whole time and why I’ve never entertained another man in my bed even after overcoming my views on sex or had relationships that lasted longer than a few dates. It has always been you.”

There’s a blush glowing on his cheeks. He falls quiet and the silence lasts for so long, that with nothing but the sound of a clock ticking in another room and the frantic tapping of your fingers, your mind begins to wander in panic and you slowly begin to doubt, wondering if maybe you’re asking your former sensei too much. You had thought after that kiss that maybe he felt the same way as you, but perhaps you’ve just been deluding yourself this whole time. The silence eats at you and your stomach turns, causing you to swallow and clear your throat. You need to speak now, to salvage this before it’s too late. “If this is crossing a line… if this is crossing a boundary, I understand. I recognize I’m asking a lot of you.” You try not to let the disappointment in your voice show.

You start to stand, draining the last of the now-cold coffee from the mug in an effort to not cry in disappointment in front of him. “Ah. Sorry to ask this of you. I know it’s inappropriate, and I can only hope this doesn’t change things between us. I’ll… uh, get going then. I’ll be back with my cat before I leave. I’ll be bringing her supplies, and some actual food for you too. It’ll be a lot this time- think of it as a prepayment for cat-sitting before I’m able to actually pay you properly. That being said, please clean out your fridge before I come over. I think I saw yogurt in there that expired two months ago, the other-“

“Where are you gonna go,” Aizawa’s voice cuts off your nervous rambling. “If I don’t…”

He trails off, but you know what he’s trying to convey. You shrug in reply, placing the mug in the cupboard after washing it and head back towards the front door. “I don’t know? The bar probably. Any random college kid would take me up on my offer-“

A heavy hand wraps itself around your wrist and yanks, spinning you around and slamming you against the wall. It takes you a second to realize Aizawa’s body is hovering over yours, hands on either side of your head caging you inside. You blink up at him and oh… you recognize that look. He’s angry. Why is he angry?

“A college kid.” He drawls, unimpressed.

You shrug at him again. “It’s my only option and they’ll be better than some sleazy guy in a dingy back alley- ”

He moves closer and your voice dies a swift death in your throat as you can feel his body heat through your clothes. You stare down at his chest, not willing to meet his eyes, suddenly finding your mouth too dry and your palms too sweaty with nerves. A finger snakes under your chin and forces your head up to look at him. Your eyes dart to the side, unable to find the courage to look him in the face.

“Y/N… look at me.” He murmurs. “Please.”

The desperation in his voice when he says please is what causes you to look at him and you something dark in his gaze. The hand under your chin slides to the back of your neck, causing your skin to prickle.

“What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t help out one of my students when they need me,” He says and it’s enough to cause you to almost laugh and or collapse in relief. “Especially when it’s you.”

He dips his head, kissing you desperate and hungry, pulling you into his arms with a frantic sense of urgency. His kiss is sloppy and needy, nothing like the slow kiss you two shared a year ago. He hands slide down, gripping your thighs and pulls, wrapping your legs around his waist. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue almost immediately pushes past your lips with a swirl.

You kiss back with a feverish frenzy as he walks the two of you back towards his bedroom. His hand snakes up through your clothes, snapping off your bra, and drags it and your shirt off. You break the kiss long enough for him to pull your clothes over your head and toss them somewhere off to the side.

“Especially when it’s me?” You question, panting against his lips.

He draws back, eyes still dark. “Me too. It's always been you, to me.” He echoes your words from earlier and deposits you into his bed, climbing over top of you, while he drags his own shirt off.

Your mouth waters as you take him in. You always knew that Aizawa was fit, as a pro hero he had to be, but his baggy clothes really do hide how ripped he is. He bends his head, teeth dragging along the pulse point on your neck, latching on to the heated skin.

“Tell me if it’s too much and you want to stop. I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. Promise me, you’ll tell me.” He rumbles in your ear.

“I trust you,” you tell him.

“Promise me.” He demands soft but deliberate.

“I promise.” You answer him.

His hands slip down to your waistband, unbuttoning and unzipping your pants, while his teeth nip and suck open-mouthed kisses on your clavicle causing you to shudder. You moan, leaning into his touch, and dear God, nothing has happened yet but you’ve never been so turned on before in your life. Your head rushes at the surge of adrenaline that hums beneath the surface of your skin.

He drags his lips up to your ear. “Lift your hips for me.” You oblige, allowing him to grasp your pants and underwear and rake them down over your ass and thighs. He sits up, peeling them from your legs, and tosses them aside. You stare up at him, body flushed, and eyes wide, suddenly self conscious of the way he’s dragging his eyes over your figure admiring every single inch. You’ve never felt so exposed.

He must sense that because he leans over again, capturing your lips into his, distracting you from your embarrassment while he explores your mouth. He breaks the kiss, scraping his teeth along your jaw, down your neck, and across your chest. He nips and sucks at your breasts in a way that has you aching and rocking your hips to drag against the growing bulge in his pants.

He moans, gradually working his way down your stomach, biting at your hips, before he settles between your legs. Teeth and lips leave marks at the sensitive skin on your inner thighs that cause you to pant and tremble under his touch.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He says again, looking up at you. You can do nothing but nod weakly at him, breath erratic, heart pounding in your ear drums. Every single nerve in your body feels on fire.

He smirks at your disheveled appearance, before he dips his head and licks a stripe at your glistening cunt. “Oh!” Your voice sounds so surprised, hands flying to his hair immediately, hips bucking up to meet his mouth. Your fingers have never made you feel like that. You need more.

He licks and sucks at your mound, going slow and hard in a way that has your entire body quivering beneath him. You whine, muscles straining, as electricity and heat swirl through your entire body making your toes curl. Every motion he makes with his mouth is molten pleasure seeping through every vein in your body. Just when you think he can’t get any better, he moves in a different way, and the crest of euphoria drags you up and up and up leaving you delirious and intoxicated from the feeling of teetering on the edge.

“Fuck, Aizawa.” You moan, head tipped back, as your fingers dig into his scalp to find purchase, anything to hold on to as he strings your body along hard. He can tell you’re getting close already, and slips a finger in your cunt, pumping it slowly, before dragging another one in. He curls them, finding the bundle of nerves that has you lifting off the bed chasing the pleasure you desperately crave. You fold into him, wailing as you cum, spasming around his digits so tightly, his cock throbs with want and need. He doesn’t stop sucking and fucking his fingers into you until your wails turn to sobs, thrashing in his iron grip as he drags your orgasm along for as long as possible.

You collapse back on the bed, huffing, body twitching as you come down from the high. Aizawa pulls himself up, dragging his pants off in one motion. “Good girl.” He coos, and oh- doesn’t his words just send sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine? Aizawa’s praise always did make you preen.

“That was better than anything I’ve ever imagined.” You breathe.

He pauses and slowly a smirk spreads across his face. “Better than anything you’ve imagined?”

“Yes.” You pant. “Do you think I haven’t touched myself to thoughts of you?”

Aizawa leans over you again, dragging your knees up to your chest, and settles himself between your legs, his cock bumping against your slick folds. He hovers, leaving a few centimeters between the two of you, and looks you deeply in the eyes.

“Still not too late to back out and go have your first time with someone else,” he mutters, wanting to hear you consent one last time before you never get this moment back. This is the last time you can ever claim to be a virgin and he needs to know you’re ok with him taking this from you. It makes you fall for him more to know that despite him not caring about concepts of virginity, he’s still taking this seriously because you do care about it.

You shake your head. “Only you. I want- no I need it to be you. It’s always been you.”

“Ok.” He breathes out through his nose. “I’m going to go slow. We can stop at any time. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Aizawa, please,” you whine, aching with need.

“Tell me.”

“I will.”

And then he’s entering you, breaching your entrance leaving you both gasping and moaning. The self restraint on him is admirable as he thrusts into you shallowly and slowly, inching his way in bit by bit, ignoring the primal urge to just slam into you so rough and fast that it has you screaming. He wants to do so many other things, wants you in so many other positions, wants to whisper so many filthy things in your ear; but he doesn’t want to scare you away. He’s patient, he has to be, if he wants you to come back for more.

Even though he worked you open, you're tight, so impossibly tight, that he has to grit his teeth against your neck and fight against how much your silky walls are sucking him in too fast and too soon.

He hears you whimper and that has him freezing, eyes snapping to your face. Your eyes are shut tight, hands squeezing around his biceps, as you let out shuddering breaths.

Just as he’s about to ask if you’re ok, you open your eyes and look at him with so much adoration that has him feeling raw and exposed, choking on emotions that threaten to squeeze his throat shut. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you reach up, curling your arms around his head and pull his face down to yours, whining. “Don’t stop. Oh please don’t stop.”

His mouth smashes against yours, wanting and needy, as you gasp against his lips, your begs tasting delicious on his tongue as he rolls his hips again, sliding the last few inches in. His forehead falls to yours as he moans in your mouth, stilling flush against your pelvis to give you a moment to adjust, stretched out and impossibly full. You feel so hot and warm, gripping him so firmly, that Aizawa rapidly recalculates his worldview, and comes to the conclusion that this is what pure happiness feels like, this is nirvana. He never wants this moment to end, wants to live in this brief period of time forever, buried to the hilt in your pussy that feels like the Gods personally formed it just for him and his cock.

He looks at you, brushing your sweat slicked hair out of his face and returns to the look of veneration. “You’re so perfect, so beautiful. You’re doing so good. Look at how well you took me.” He praises causing your cunt to squeeze him.

His eyes, more awake and alert than you’ve ever seen them, flutter for the briefest of moments at the increased pressure, before he looks at you again. “I’m going to move now, ok?”

You nod and so he starts with a slow and steady pace. You shake beneath him, back arched, chin tilted as fireworks explode behind your eyelids. He watches your face, adjusting his position or depth or speed anytime the look of pleasure starts to turn into a grimace. He wants this to be as good for you as it is for him, doesn’t want to be the cause for any discomfort or pain. Your pants are mixed with moans and you bring the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle the sounds. In any other circumstance, he would pull your hand away and demand you let him hear every sweet noise you make. But he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so for just this one time, he lets you cover your mouth, to provide an ounce of comfort.

“Aizawa, I-“ you whine.

“I know, kitten. I know.” His chest rumbles. “That’s my good girl. You’re doing so well. Fuck, you feel amazing.” He can feel how wetter you’re getting with each passing thrust, how much more you’re squeezing him to the point where it’s almost painful to not just fuck into you with a fervor.

The growing pleasure is almost uncomfortable for you. You’ve gotten yourself off on your fingers before, but this is a whole new level. Everything is blurring together, swallowing you whole, drowning out every thought until there’s nothing left but Aizawa.

The growing pressure is agony, making you sob, hot tears splashing down your cheeks that he quickly kisses away, as the tension pulls tighter and tighter. You don’t know how much longer it can last, you’re sure the next second, the next thrust is the one that sends you over the edge, but it never does. It builds and builds and builds, the desperation leaving you trembling under his touch, babbling incoherently, lips slicked with drool, fingernails digging into his flesh as each roll of his hips brings you to a new high.

Your senses are heightened and dulled at the same time. You can feel his hands wandering your body, exploring the valley of your breasts, feather light on your navel, and bruising on your hips. His mouth kisses and licks and sucks and bites every bit of skin he can reach. He praises you in words that sound too distant, too far away, too soft to be heard over the roar of blood in your ears. It feels incredible. It feels like too much. It makes your head swim.

“Please, Aizawa, please, I need- I need.” You blubber, willing to offer up your soul to this man for the relief you so frantically chase.

His tempo changes as he moves a hand between your folds, fingers finding your clit. “I wanna spoil you so much more kitten, but I’m not gonna last much longer. Cum for me. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” He circles his finger once, twice, three times and the thread inside you snaps, finally tumbling you over that edge.

Your arms wrap around his neck as waves of euphoria crash into you, gripping him like a lifeline as your mind threatens to smother you in it. He groans into your neck, hips thrusting erratically, as your walls clench around him, milking the cum from his dick. You’ve never felt so good before. Your body buzzes, head on cloud nine, toes curling, as he rocks a few more thrusts into you to prolong your orgasm. Your whole body sings, amplified by lightning that flutters in your cunt.

Your senses return as the pleasure ebbs away. You’re hot and sweaty, muscles aching and sore, tangled in Aizawa’s arms while he lays beside you (how did you not notice him move?) and strokes your hair. He mutters praises in your ear telling you what a good job you did and he’s so proud, while he peppers your face with feather light kisses.

“How are you feeling,” he asks when he can see your eyes clear and awareness flood back in.

“Amazing, actually. I had no idea I could feel that way. I can see why people like doing it so much.” You smile up at him drunk on the happiness while he peppers a kiss to your forehead and runs his hands up and down your shoulder.

“Good.” He hums, before sitting up on the edge of the bed. He looks at you with soft eyes and reaches out, smoothing your hair down once more. “Stay here and relax, kitten. I’ll be right back with water and something to clean you up with, okay?”

He grabs his pants and pulls them on as he stands before leaving the room. You watch him disappear around the corner and a tenseness you hadn’t known was bound in your shoulders suddenly loosens. This was better than you ever imagined. You feel so fulfilled, so happy, so so in love.

But…

You also feel…heavy? Satisfied and overwhelmingly happy to the point where it makes you giddy.

But you’re still heavy.

The feeling is enough to cause your chest to convulse suddenly from the weight, pulling a sob from your throat that you hastily try to stifle by shoving your fist into your mouth. Something in you breaks unexpectedly and despite fighting to swallow the wails, you collapse in on yourself, white hot tears rolling down your face as you gasp, gulping down spasming breaths, never quite able to pull enough air into your lungs. Dark spots break out in your vision as you try and fail to stop this emotional storm that rolls over you. Why? Aizawa is everything you ever wanted, and you’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. It’s always been him. So why?? Why does it feel like your heart is breaking?

A hand suddenly slides under your shoulders and knees, pulling you into a broad chest, arm wrapping around your body in a way that makes you feel so safe and protected. Aizawa runs his hand up and down your back, making soothing noises as he works you through your panic attack. A blanket appears in your peripheral, wrapping around your body, tucking you into his large frame. Your sobs start to subside, leaving you with little shuddering breaths.

“I-I’m sorry.” you hiccup, looking up at him apprehensive, worried he’s going to think you’re ridiculous for crying after you two just had sex. There’s no such judgement on his face though, just concern and worry.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He assures you, reaching to his side to produce a bottle of water that he hands you. You drink from it, draining the whole thing in nearly one go, not realizing just how thirsty you were until then. The few seconds the action grants you, allows you to relax against him, suddenly so exhausted from all the emotions you’ve felt since you knocked on his door.

“I- I have no idea why I started crying.”

“Well, what are you feeling,” he asked, tucking your head under his chin. “Talk to me. Maybe we can find the answer together.”

You looked down at your hands, flexing them around the bottle. “I- I feel…” you trailed off, unsure on how to put it into words. “I’m so overjoyed that it’s making me giddy. I’m exhausted from everything that happened but I’m so blissful that I can feel an energy buzzing under my skin despite that. I want to smile so hard it hurts. It’s always been you, probably since the first time I saw you walk through the doors of homeroom all those years ago and expel five people on the first day because they weren’t taking hero work seriously. You were only a couple years older than me, and yet already so confident and sure of yourself. It drew me in like a moth to a flame. I knew deep down, in that moment I would follow you to the ends of the earth. Everything you did was so breathtaking and it always pushed me to be better, to be the kind of person that could someday stand next to someone on your level. I wanted you to be proud of me. It’s why, even when I graduated, even when I debuted as a hero and became established in the pro hero world, even when I was no longer the naive child that wore rose tinted glasses about the world around us, I still came over whenever I could, because I still chased after you, still wanted you. I was captivated- enamored by you even back then. It was love at first sight, I just… didn’t realize it at the time.”

You smile softly, lost in thought. “And now that we’ve done this, I finally feel like I’ve gotten my dream. This is the happiest moment of my life. But…” the smile falters as you drag your hand to your chest. “Right here. It feels so heavy.”

Aizawa hums. “Well first, I’m happy you see me that way. It means a lot to me, truly. Second? I’ve always been proud of you. I’ve always thought you had potential. I didn’t expel you because I saw that, right from the beginning. I always knew you would make a fantastic pro hero, it was illogical to think otherwise. And I’ve always admired you. No matter what happened, you always remained kind and compassionate. I watched you calm down a terrified little boy who developed a scary new Quirk and accidentally hurt everyone around him, by only talking to him. Any other pro hero would have knocked him out, but you sat with him while his parents were treated by doctors and enthusiastically talked to him about rocket ships and astronauts. I guarantee that kid has never forgotten your patience and understanding in that moment. And even though it’s been almost a decade since you graduated, you still continue to show up to check on me. You still talk to the other teachers at UA regularly which means a lot to them. And every time one of your former classmates or teachers winds up injured in a fight, you show up. You say you were drawn to me like a moth to a flame but I don’t think you give yourself enough credit to how truly radiant you are. I think I fell for you a couple years after you graduated when you knocked on Mic’s door, lying horribly about being in the neighborhood, bringing him take out for no other reason than you found out he was injured in a fight and was concerned he wasn’t taking care of himself properly. That type of kindness is rare in this world.”

He takes a deep breath and loops a finger under your chin so you look at him, see the raw emotion in his eyes. “And I’m honored that you trusted me enough to want your first time to be with me. I didn’t take it lightly and I never will.”

Tears begin to mist in your eyes. Your throat squeezes and your nose burns. Oh… now you understand why you feel so heavy. Why you cried hysterically earlier. “It’s not fair.”

Confusion flits across his face but you let out a shuddering breath. “I’ve wanted you for so long and now that I have you, it’s almost time to go. It doesn’t feel fair. Suddenly, I wish I didn’t have this Quirk, that I wasn’t best suited for this mission. I want to be selfish and stay here with you.”

Aizawa is quiet for a moment, because what can he even say to that? To make this situation better. “I’ll be here. I’ll wait. For however long you take. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back.”

“I might come back changed.”

“I’m expecting it.” He already knew. At minimum he was expecting PTSD. It’s why the Commission already started you on therapy. This is the part of hero work that nobody talks about and scares him when he looks at new students. He seems them in situations- on missions like this- and it terrifies him to the bone. He would rather expel them than send them out unready for the reality, expecting big flashy fights on TV, only to find themselves mentally broken when faced with scenarios like this.

“It might be a while before I want you to touch me again, when I come back.” You point out.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” He assured you.

Your eyes flicked up to him. “Why?”

He studied your face. “Only for you. I’ll wait forever if I have to, because you’re worth the wait. It’s always been you.”

You let out a chuckled sob and lean up, kissing him with bittersweet emotions, full of longing and regret. You memorized the way his lips fit against yours, the feel of his hands on your skin. You want this day to be the moment you thought about during your mission, to push you to keep going when you want to give up. Coming back to him is your new goal and you grasp it firmly in your heart, stubbornly refusing to let it go. He’s the reason you became a hero, the reason you kept going when the mantle was too much to bear sometimes. And now, right now, wrapped in his arms, you try to convey with your kiss that he’s the reason you’ll come back.

It’s always been him.

#aizawa shōta #bnha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa x you #shoto aizawa #aizawa x y/n #eraserhead #reader insert #x reader #female reader #eraserhead mha #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead x you #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x you #aizawa shota smut #aizawa smut #eraserhead smut #BNHA #mha #smut #bnha smut #mha smut #pro hero x reader #pro hero oc #aizawa x reader

[aeyunaa]

hii how r uu?? Can you make a bff!jaemin smut please? Its where jaemin decided to invite innocent!fem reader to watch hentai with him then things started to go very spicy and intimate🫣 tyy !

Okay so you asked and you shall receive I mixed both your and @andyprkmyluv requests hope you guys don’t mind 😭!

Eye Candy 🍬 pt.2

Pairing: Jaemin x jisung x fem!reader

Word count- 8K

Smut Tw

Overstimulation, cock warming, creampie, somnophilla, drug use, y/n is a total slut!

Wrap it up irl, it’s better to be safe then sorry! 😭🙏🏻

——————

It's been two weeks you haven't seen Jaemin, jisung or mark because they were on tour in the united states. You call them almost every other day to make sure they were doing okay. You called them earlier and they were already boarding the plane back to Seoul.

“We should totally celebrate when we get back” Jaemin winks hinting he meant something totally different from the word “celebrate”. “You're an asshole.” He chuckled “no but seriously come visit me when we get back, I wanna show you something cool.” You cock an eyebrow “mm…I’ll think about it.” Before he could say anything else you waved and hung up you hoped he wouldn’t take it to heart.

A few hours go by and you spend them by getting dressed. There was a knock on the front door and you ran to open it. “Mark!” You pull him into a hug and smile. “Hi y/n” he broke the hug and walked inside, he set his bags down in the living room and laid on the couch. You shut the door and walk into the living room “I'm going to my friend Sara’s house.” Mark looked up at you “Sara?”.

You nodded, “whose Sara? Where does she live?” Mark started asking too many questions so you shut him up by saying you’ll call him every other hour he agreed but you saw that slight look of worry. Mark was always protective of you since the first time he saw you, having a little sister was one of the best things that happened to him he’d say.

——————-

You feel a hint of nervousness as you knock on the door. Jisung opened the door, his hair was messy and his eyes were half way closed. Your nose caught on to the smell of weed. You laughed at him before walking inside and into the hallway, Jaemin’s room was the very last down the hall. You quietly turn the knob and open the door. You peek in “looking for someone?” Jaemin's voice asks from behind you. You snap your head towards him and frown “you’re an asshole” he smiles and leads you into his room. His room was decorated with LED lights. He had a nice gaming setup in the corner of his room you sat on his large bed “so what's up lover boy?”. He sat down beside you and opened the laptop that was lying on the bed. You heard him typing on the keyboard after a while he stopped and looked back up at you “I was hoping you were up for a bit of binge watching…” you nodded. “Mark doesn’t know I’m over here. I told him I was going to one of my friends' houses. “Your brother would probably unalive me if he knew our situation”. You agreed with him “Mark just can’t find out…''Jaemin sent you a grin before lying down, setting the laptop a good distance away from his face. He pats the space in front of him signaling you to lie down. You set your purse down on the side of the bed before laying down in front of Jaemin, your back touching his chest.

He pressed play on the video and wrapped an arm around your waist. The both of you were awkwardly quiet as the massive globs of white, splatter and ooze over an animated face, the girl goes cross eyed with pleasure. You feel Jaemin’s arm grow even tighter around your waist, pulling your ass till it is resting against his clothed dick. “Jaemin…” you turn towards him and wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into a passionate kiss that soon turns completely lustful. A loud moan left your lips as he snuck a hand into your shorts. His hands played with your sensitive bud, His free hand lifted enough to work his belt open and the sound of the zipper broke through the heat that had risen to your ears.

Kissing at your jaw and ear, Jaemin nipped at the lobe, shoving your shorts to the side, rubbing his fat cock against the heat of your core. He used the arch of his hips to slide inside of you, groaning into your ear. His hips remained still until he couldn’t take it any longer and, gritting his teeth, he would begin a hard, steady pace. Slamming into you each time, he’d savor every sound you made.

Your moans were hot and heavy, your hands found their way to Jaemin’s shoulders, you held on for dear life, accepting all he gave you, “Oh, Jaemin!” You whimpered, and he turned his head to kiss at your jaw, thrusting deeper and deeper. The hand that had once been on your chin snaked up and tangled itself in your hair, roughly pulling your head back, causing you to cry out as the pain mingled with intense pleasure.

Your lips were bruised and the makeup you spent hours on was all over the pillows and bedsheets. “Fuck Y/n! cum for me.” He demanded, roughly biting at your neck, his hand gripped onto your hair tighter as he began to slam his hips into you harder, the bed shaking with the strength behind his thrusts. You moaned wildly and knew you wouldn’t last long, your orgasm hit, you convulsed.

The hard clamp of your walls around his large cock made him hiss out a deep groan, his hips continued thrusting forward allowing your walls to milk him, “Fuuuuuck…” He breathed, “…. Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” His muscles contract and send heat spurting against your core, painting your swollen flesh. But Jaemin wasn’t done with you… “Are you my good girl Y/n?” You nodd desperately. “Then you wouldn’t bother helping jisung out again, right? He didn’t get to witness how amazing your pussy felt last time and he was pretty bummed. Jaemin picks up his phone and texts someone most likely jisung. After about five minutes he walks in and shuts the door “you don’t know how long I was waiting for this.” He says walking over to the bed while trying to unbutton the tight jeans he had on. Once he got them off he pulled both his pants and boxers off, throwing them onto the floor you sat up and he pulled you into a hot kiss Jaemin laid against the headboard of his bed and admired the scene playing out in front of him. Jisung crawled onto the bed and laid down beside Jaemin “can you ride me, love?” You nodded tirelessly before crawling over to where jisung was laying and positioning yourself over his pretty dick. He placed both hands on your hips as you slowly sank onto his cock. You continue to move your hips— jisung thrusts up as he feels you bouncing in his hold. Jaemin leans up and rests his chin against your shoulder “y/n look at how desperate sunggie is to fill you up, don’t you wanna help him” you nod vigorously as you pick up your speed bouncing up and down the males cock Jisung’s nails dig into your waist.

Jaemin was still behind you whispering in your ear about how much jisung wanted to be milked dry. Jisung’s whimpers grow louder as you ruthlessly slam yourself down on him “I-I’m going to cum!~” Jisung sounded like a total brat right now it turned you on in a way you couldn’t explain. You push yourself down on him one last time before he completely breaks. He came hard in you, his large load filled you up so nicely. You fell onto his chest and caught your breath before pulling yourself off of his limp cock and falling into the silk sheets Jaemin pulls you into a back hug and jisung lays in front of you. It wasn’t long before all three of y’all passed out.

You muttered, the sheets slipped away leaving your body completely exposed. Slowly, need and desire began to smolder under your skin. You arched your back, pushing your hips forward in search of more sensation. You groaned at the soft, slow, relentless touch continued. You made a slight whining noise “J-jaemin”. “Shhh this will be quick I promise.” You feel him position his cock in between your folds. he quickly thrusts forward, nearly causing you to bump into the sleeping boy next to you. Jaemin thrusts are slow and lazy he just needed a bit of relief. He feels his climax approaching already, he holds you close as he spills into you. You can feel a mix of his and probably Jisung’s leak out from your overfilled cunt. Jaemin doesn’t pull out. He kisses your neck and pulls the sheets back over the two of you.

You wake up in the morning when you hear sudden arguing. One of the voices was definitely Mark, your heart sank when the door flew open. “What. The. Fuck.” Mark's jaw dropped at the sight of his sister in bed with both of his best friends was truly traumatizing. Jaemin’s eyes opened and locked with his “Mark?”

“Dude. What the hell?”

#kpop smut #nct smut #smut #smut smut smut #jaemin smut #jaemin nct #jaemin #jaemin oneshot #Jaemin nct smut #jisung smut #jisung nct #nct x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct mark #nct jisung

[deep-fried-egg]

Warnings: werewolf Vada, g!p, not really a warning but r keeps calling vada a he because she thought vada was a boy because Vada is stuck in her wolf form and she has a dick, r kind of kidnapped Vada without realizing it, r named wolf! Vada titan 

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

"Hey! Thanks for coming over!" Y/n beams as she opens the door, welcoming her friend into her cozy home.

Jaina grins, stepping inside. "No problem, I couldn't resist an invitation like that. So... let's see this new dog you got! I want to know if he's really as big as you say he is!" Jaina says excitedly, her eyes already scanning the room.

Y/n giggles and gestures towards the corner of the living room, where a massive dog bed sits. Lounging on it is a hulking beige dog with little dark brown patches scattered across its body. The dog has long fur, which gives its big fluffy ears and long muzzle a gentle appearance. Lying lazily, its tail wags slowly up and down as it leisurely stretches out and rolls onto its back, revealing its stomach area.

"Wow, he really is huge!" Jaina exclaims, her eyes widening in amazement as she approaches the gentle giant with Y/n by her side. "What's his name?"

"His name is Titan," Y/n smiles proudly at her new furry companion. "He may look intimidating due to his size, but he's actually a total sweetheart."

Jaina reaches down to pet Titan, who greets her with a deep but friendly rumble. "Aww," she coos as they watch the enormous dog lap up the affection.

After a moment, Y/n suggests they move on to what Jaina came for in the first place. "Well, Titan isn't the only reason I invited you over! Let's play some video games!"

The two friends exchange competitive grins before making their way to the couch. Y/n grabs her Nintendo Switch as they pass by the entertainment center and quickly connects it to the TV. As soon as everything's set up, they eagerly dive into Animal Crossing together: laughing, gossiping about their favorite villagers, and sharing tips on how to grow the perfect virtual garden.

Meanwhile, Titan contentedly stretches out across the floor, occasionally lifting his head to watch Y/n and Jaina as they enjoy their gaming session. The afternoon unfolds into an ideal blend of friendly competition and warm companionship – exactly what both girls had been looking forward to all week.

~

"Oh Jaina! I found this really cool bracelet at that new store they built about a mile away. it's in my room though... let me go get it!" y/n says as she quickly gets up from the couch, heading to her room to grab the aforementioned 'cool bracelet' she found. Her dog following behind her.

"Oh hey puppy! awww you're such a cutie... come here." y/n coos lovingly to her huge pet as she scratches under his chin affectionately.

"Where did you come from? I didn't even hear you coming." y/n turned away from the large dog to look for her bracelet. quickly turning back around when she heard a weird shuffling noise and then... there was a naked woman standing where her dog was?

"Oh thank God! Fuck I was stuck like that for weeks! that was the worst experience of my life. hey thanks lady. it's like you broke my curse or something!" The small woman spoke.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Y/n backed up against the wall, looking for something to defend herself with.

"Hey! calm down! I'm your dog!" the stranger tried to comfort y/n but it clearly wasn't working.

"WHAT? YOURE NOT MY DOG! AND PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON PERVERT!" Y/n yelled from across the room.

"Oh my god. it's fine. look... I have a tail! doesn't that mean something?" the short woman in front of y/n said.

"How do I know it's not a plug?"

"Ew! that's disgusting! I would never put something up my ass!"

"Prove you're my dog."

The stranger started to get hard but here's the thing... her dick didn't look normal. I mean it looked like a dog's dick!

"Look. I have a dick that looks like a dog's. I have a knot too. oh and I have dog ears but that's less interesting. I feel like I should have told you my name before I did all of this... I'm Vada." The werewolf woman says nervously.

"You expect me to believe that shit?" y/n says skeptically, raising an eyebrow at Vada. "You're just a pervert who likes acting like a dog."

"I promise I'm telling the truth! I mean why would I get surgery to make my dick look like this! that's stupid!" Vada responds defensively.

"Good point... but I still don't know you! you're a naked stranger inside of my house!" y/n points out.

"Yeah... I guess I am." Vada laughs awkwardly.

"Wait... what are you? if you were really my dog that means you're not human!" y/n realizes. her eyes widening slightly after realizing what she'd said.

"Umm... no I'm not human... I've been alive for like... 300 years." Vada responded nonchalantly. "but yeah I'm a werewolf." she adds.

Y/n sighs and shakes her head. "Well okay Vada, but that doesn't explain THAT." Y

pointed to Vada's obviously weirdly shaped dick. "It's kinda freaking me out."

Vada shrugs and chuckles a bit before responding. "yeah I understand your confusion.. I probably should explain A/B/O huh?"

"A/B/O IS A REAL THING? I THOUGHT THAT WAS JUST SOME WEIRD THING ON AO3!" Y/n says surprisedly.

"Uh yeah... I thought you humans would have a better grasp on how A/B/O works. it's actually pretty complicated..." Vada says sheepishly. "...but I'll try to explain."

she pauses for a moment. "Basically it's a power ranking thingie for us werewolves. I'm actually a beta which is the second highest. it means I'm like... submissive and dominant at the same time."

"Wait it's a sex thing?"

"No it isn't a sex thing! ...Okay it's kind of a sex thing. I actually came to your... human town... to look for a mate!" Vada explained. "I was actually hoping that you'd be my mate." She admits quietly.

"Me? why me? you don't even know me-" y/n tries to reason with Vada but she interrupts her.

"That's not true! I've known you for three months." Vada protests.

"Alright... good point. but how do you make someone your mate?" y/n asked confused.

"Well uh... we fuck. I have to mark you which means I have to bite you. and the most important part... I have to breed you." Vada explained hesitantly.

"Breed me? like... I have to be pregnant and everything?" y/n asks in disbelief.

"Well yes. the mating bond has to happen before you're ready to have my pups." Vada answers simply.

"It's more intimate though. we'll sleep together and all that stuff." Vada explains as she runs a hand through the fur on her lower stomach.

"Oh! I forgot. If I do bite you you'll turn into a werewolf too. then we can live together forever... and I can pump more and more pups into you... you'll love it." Vada smiles softly.

"...So do you want to become my mate?" Vada questions with hopeful eyes.

Y/n thinks for a minute and then nods. "Sure. Now how do we start this?"

"Right... I'll lay on the ground and you get on top of me. Okay?" Vada instructs, trying not to sound nervous. she's never done this before so she is EXTREMELY nervous.

Y/n mods her head and straddles Vada's hips.

"Alright... nowwww take off your clothes." Vada orders.

"Ummm okay..." y/n replies unsure.

"Don't be shy babe. I know you're gorgeous." Vada assures y/n as she lays her head on the ground. watching as y/n strips down to nothing.

"I think you know what to do next. put my thick, werewolf cock inside of you."

Y/n blushes bright red at hearing Vada say that but takes a deep breath and she slips Vada inside of her slowly. As soon as their bodies were touching she could feel how hot Vada was.

y/n groaned loudly and wrapped her arms around the shorter women's shoulders and squeezed tightly. Vada smiled at Y/n as she moans softly, beginning to move her hips slowly.

"Fuck... you're so damn tight." Vada compliments in between heavy breaths. drool beginning to spill out of the side of Vada's mouth, further revealing her growing arousal.

"Yeah I'm sorry. You're just really fucking big." Y/n says through clenched teeth.

"Ngghh you're so fucking beautiful." Vada moans out as she thrusts her hips faster causing y/n to grip onto her body tightly. causing her to squirm underneath y/n. both of them moaning and panting heavily.

After what feels like hours (and also what might be hours) Vada pushes Y/n over to lie on her back.

She kisses down Y/n's neck while licking and sucking along it leaving love bites and sucking marks along the way, causing y/n to whine lightly.

"Can I mark you?" Vada

whispers against Y/n's neck.

Y/n gasps quietly at the feeling of Vada's warm breath hitting her skin while nodding rapidly.

"Alright... you're sure right? because this is a lifelong-"

"Just do it!" y/n screams out impatiently.

"Alright!" Vada yells back before y/n feels Vada's little fangs elongate riiiight up against her neck.

"F-fuck! those are going INSIDE OF MY NECK?" y/n screams out.

"Sshhh you're gonna make your friend suspicious!"

"But it hurts!! IT HURTS SO MUCH!!" y/n shouts again as Vada continues to bite her mark into y/n's neck.

"Shhhhhhh you're doing good. Just keep breathing baby... I promise it won't hurt for too long..."

"You're saying that but it's already hurting so much! Fucking hell! I hate pain." Y/n whimpers out.

Vada continues pounding into y/n as she bites harder than ever and y/n starts to moan louder.

"FUCK! That hurts SO FUCKING MUCH! Oh God!" Y/n screams out as she begins to shake from the pleasure.

"Keep going baby girl! You're doing great!"

Vada keeps biting deeper as she pumps into y/n relentlessly until she feels her orgasm coming.

"Fuck baby... I'm gonna knot you! You're so perfect..." Vada moans out as she grabs onto y/n's thighs roughly and thrusts herself even harder, making y/n cry out loudly.

Vada shoves her now expanding knot inside of y/n, continuing to thrust her hips but she's just pulling on her knot.

"Come on baby! let me breed you! let me make you my mate!" Vada begs with pleading eyes.

y/n looks away from Vada, trying to hold back her own desire and nods silently.

"Yes!" she screams out loud, arching her back and letting out a high pitched whine as she cums deep inside of y/n. Her knot keeping all of her cum where it belongs.

"Fuck... I can't believe I just made a stranger my 'mate' or-" Y/n was cut off by her friend walking in, yelping in surprise.

"Shit! I was just trying to ask if you found that bracelet yet!"

#eggsub thoughts #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #vada cabell x yn #vada cavell x reqder #vada cavell x you #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega

[supernaturalscribe67]

My Best Friend

Words: 1,907

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Male!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Loss of a pet, descriptive death of an animal (no gore), hurt/comfort, I cried while writing and revising this so beware...

Summary: Luna has been by the reader's side ever since he first started hunting. However, as the years went by and as she got older, he had been seeing less and less of her because of his profession. Little did he know that when he said 'goodbye' to her before his latest hunt, it would be for the last time.

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As soon as the Impala pulled into the garage, (Y/N) was quick to jump out of the backseat and head for the front door of the bunker. A smile was plastered on his face and the excitement of returning home soared through him. Dean and Sam both stepped out of the car. 

“Hey! Aren’t you going to grab your things?” Dean called out. 

(Y/N) turned his head to look at him as he opened the bunker door. “I will in a minute!” He called back before he rushed inside. 

(Y/N) barrelled down the stairs and began to make his way down the hallway toward his bedroom. “Luna!” He called out, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Daddy’s home! I brought a present for you!” 

It didn’t take long before (Y/N) got to his room, the door slightly ajar, just as he had left it before he went on the hunt. As he peered into the room, he was able to see the pile of black fur that rested atop the comforter of his bed. His smile widened. 

Luna had been (Y/N)’s traveling companion ever since he started hunting. He had found her on the side of the road as a kitten and nursed her back to health. She had been with him for years, hopping from motel to motel. It made hunting a little less lonely. When (Y/N) met the Winchester Brothers and the offer to move in with them was fronted, it took a lot of convincing for Dean to allow the pet he was allergic to in the same space as he was. Eventually, he caved, and Luna and (Y/N) moved into the Men of Letters Bunker. 

As Luna got older, she didn’t do as much moving around as she used to, but after each hunt, (Y/N) always brought back a little present for her, whether it be a new toy or a new pet treat he knew that she would love. Although he didn’t see her nearly as often as he wanted to, (Y/N) knew that, with Luna being at the bunker, she was safe, and it made him feel overjoyed whenever he got home. 

(Y/N) chuckled ever so slightly as he walked into the room. He kicked off his boots and tossed them to the side. “Hey, sleepy girl,” he said as he knelt beside the bed. “You remember how you hit your mouse toy under the fridge and we couldn’t get it back? Well, I got something that might be able to make you feel better,” he smirked as he reached into his pocket and brought out a small green and yellow mouse. “It’s not your old toy, but it's something,” he shrugged. 

When (Y/N) looked down at Luna again, he noticed that she hadn’t lifted her head. She hadn’t even opened her eyes to acknowledge his presence. (Y/N) gave a small smile as he reached over, placed his hand on top of her head, and, using the pad of his thumb, lightly pet the bridge of her nose. 

“Luna,” he cooed in a soft tone. 

Even with the gentle touches, Luna was still. Cautiously, (Y/N) reached his thumb down and caressed her grayed muzzle, brushing her whiskers ever so slightly. Still, she lay unresponsive. The smile faded from his lips as he felt a lump begin to form in his throat. 

“Luna?” His voice was quiet. 

(Y/N) pulled his hand back from her face and placed it carefully onto her stomach. He waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And her stomach never moved. 

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood. He licked his lips as he crawled onto the bed, watching Luna as the bed dipped, yet all she did was lay there. When he got himself situated on the bed, legs crossed loosely, he reached over, placed one hand underneath her body, and picked her up, bringing her close to his chest. Her head lulled to the side as it lay limply against him. 

(Y/N)’s eyes began to well up with tears as he brushed her fur out of her face. “Please,” he breathed as his bottom lip began to tremble. “Please wake up.” 

Luna never woke up. 

Soon, the dam broke. Tears began to stream down (Y/N)’s cheeks, leaving wet, red streaks as he pulled her even closer to him, nuzzling his cheek against hers, rocking himself back and forth ever so slightly on the bed. He sniffled as he let out small, pain-filled sobs. The emotions hit him like a truck. Luna was gone. His hunting companion was gone. His best friend was gone.

(Y/N) didn’t even hear the footsteps that came down the hallway and halted at his door, his cries and the breaking of his heart being the only thing that filled his ears. Dean peaked his head into the room, a concerned expression on his face. He placed his hand on the doorframe as he leaned against it. 

“(Y/N)? You okay?” He asked, his voice laced with worry as he slowly stepped into the room. 

As he got closer to the duo, he surveyed the scene in front of him. The way Luna’s body rested against (Y/N)’s chest, the wet spots on his cheeks, and the sound of (Y/N)’s cries. It didn’t take long for Dean to understand what was happening. He raised his brows as he looked down at Luna, his eyes immediately filling with sympathy as he walked over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

Even though Dean was less than happy at first to have a cat in the bunker, he found that he had grown rather close to Luna. Although she caused his allergies to act up substantially, he had learned to love the way that she would nuzzle on his lap when he was watching a movie or the way that she would sneak into his room at night sometimes to cuddle up to him. Even though there were days when he would have rather not been around a cat constantly, he could never imagine a day going by without her being there. He saw the way she made (Y/N) smile. How close they were. He could tell that Luna meant a lot to his friend, that she was his family. 

And now she’s gone. 

Dean said nothing as he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, pulling him close. (Y/N) laid his head against Dean as he cried. His chest moved up and down rapidly with the increased rate of his breathing. His tears left a wet spot on Dean’s t-shirt, but Dean didn’t mind. Dean closed his eyes as he rubbed (Y/N)’s shoulder comfortingly. 

After a couple of minutes, (Y/N)’s sobs began to diminish as he looked at Luna. “I should have been here for her,” he whispered, his voice shaky and broken. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone on that hunt. I-” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I should have stayed with her…” (Y/N) shook his head. “She must’ve thought I left her.” 

“Of course, she didn’t, (Y/N),” Dean said in a soft, reassuring voice. “She loved you. She would get so excited whenever you would come back from hunts.” 

“Then why didn’t she wait?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak but closed it. He shook his head slightly. “She probably didn’t want you to see her like this.” 

(Y/N) sniffled and paused for a moment. “She was always so stubborn.” 

Dean let out a dry chuckle. “She always did like to remind us that she was in charge.” 

The tears had stopped at that point as Dean and (Y/N) sat there in silence. Dean’s hand ran up and down (Y/N)’s shoulder while (Y/N) ran his fingers through Luna’s soft fur. It felt like an eternity before (Y/N) finally spoke. 

“Dean?” He asked in a whisper.

“Yes?” 

“Can you…” he hesitated. He sat in another minute of silence before he continued. “Can you help me give her a proper funeral? A hunter’s funeral? I…I know she’s just a cat, but-”

“Hey,” Dean interjected as he pulled back to look down at (Y/N)’s face. “She wasn’t just a cat. She was a hunter, just like you and me. She may not have killed monsters like us, but she was with you every step of the way. I’d say she deserves a hunter’s funeral.” 

(Y/N)’s bottom lip began to wobble once more as he heard Dean’s words. He sniffled and reached up to wipe the fresh tears away from his eyes. 

“Thank you.” 

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The crisp night air felt heavier than it should have been. The stars twinkled bright that night as the quiet wind caressed (Y/N)’s face. Dean finished placing the wood together in the smaller, makeshift pyre he had constructed. (Y/N) sat and watched as he held Luna’s body, wrapped in cloth, close to him. Once Dean was finished, he stood up and backed away, his boots crunching against the leaves that rested on the ground. He turned and looked at his friend for a moment, giving him a small nod. 

(Y/N) nodded in return as he walked up to the pyre. He looked down at the wrapped-up bundle in his arms and placed a loving kiss atop Luna’s head before he set her down on the wood. He reached into his pocket and took out the small toy mouse that he had gotten her. He stared at it, his fingers brushing over the fabric for a second before placing it on her body. He then backed up and stood next to Dean. 

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He held it out to (Y/N). (Y/N) glanced down at the lighter, seeing the silver finish gleam in the moonlight. Timidly, he reached over, grabbed it from Dean, and opened it. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, attempting to will away the tears that were starting to form in the corner of his eyes once again. It took a while for him to finally open his eyes and ignite the flame. He hesitated, watching as the flame danced on top of the hood, before tossing the lighter towards the pyre. 

The wood burned agonizingly slow. (Y/N) watched as the fire began to spread, engulfing the remains of his best friend. He thought back to all the moments that they shared. The times when he would come back from a hunt, beaten and broken, but he would still have her to cuddle with to make him feel better. The times when he was trying to research and all she would do was plop down on his book or laptop and beg for his attention. The times when he would cry over the loss of his friends and she would bring him her favorite toy to try and comfort him. Even the times they got on each other’s nerves. Luna was still there for him, through the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

And as he stood there, watching as the firey embers drifted off into the night sky, he couldn’t believe that it had taken him so long to realize; 

Luna had saved (Y/N), just like he had saved her.

#male!reader #supernatural #spn x reader #supernatural imagine #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x Male Reader #Male reader #hurt/comfort #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural x reader #supernatural x male reader

[heartofwritiing]

English is not my first language so sorry

YOU'RE WRITING FOR JACK RUSSELL😭😭. Can i ask for something where the full moon is coming and Jack is afraid to scare the reader?, please😭

Full Moon

parning: Jack Russell (werewolf by night) x fem!reader

a/n: YES I CAN SWEET ANON, this sounds like such a cute idea I hope you like what i’ve done! this doesn’t take place during the special!!

Warnings: I mean if you haven’t watched werewolf by night don’t read this go watch it!! fluff, unedited!

Jack paced around his bedroom biting at his thumb in thought. You had noticed for the past two days Jack had been acting strange around you. You had only known him for a few months prior to getting together after he timidly asked you on a date, but this was the first time you had been staying over at his place.

Jack hadn’t told you, how could he, he wasn’t sure how’d you react to what he was and he didn’t want to scare you away. He had never gotten this far into a relationship with someone, and he knew you were special and he couldn’t risk losing you.

After you went to bed early Jack left before you realized and were sound asleep. The following day you woke in his empty bed, you noticed his side wasn't even messy so you got up and searched the house. You looked in every possible place but he was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until you heard the door open and saw him walk through that relief washed over you.

It concerned you that he just disappeared without saying anything, but he apologized profusely to you. You forgave him of course, knowing he likely had a good excuse for it.

You sat with your legs crossed on the bed watching Jack's movements, he had told you there was something important he wanted to tell you. You knew it was something serious by the way he looked at you earlier with his eyes showing some underlying emotion, you knew now it was vulnerability. So you sat down and were waiting for him to open up to you.

He knew he could tell you anything, he trusted you completely now but he was just too nervous about this.

"Jack," you started. "Whatever it is, you don't have to tell me anything, it can wait until you're ready."

Jack finally meets your eyes and stops his pacing. He smiles warmly at you and walks over to you, taking your hands in his he kneels down in front of you.

"I know mi corazon, I know," he brings your knuckles up to his lips and places a kiss there.

"This is important, you have to know these things about me," he says solely. "I just don't want to scare you mi amour."

You take your right hand out of his grasp and bring it up to his cheek to trace his jawline, you can feel his slight stubble scratching your thumb.

"It's okay," you coo.

He lays his head on your lap sighing in almost defeat. The look you just gave him, ugh, full of so much endearment he swore he could die happy staring into your eyes. He groans and buries his head in your lap.

"You don't make this anymore easy amour," his voice muffled.

You giggle as you pet his hair. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." he sits up again. "I'm just gonna tell you."

He takes a deep breath.

"Every month, once a month I change." he inhales again. "And on that night I become something I am not which you see before you, I become a beast. I'm not myself anymore when this happens I become an animal, a hunter."

The whole time he speaks you keep your face neutral so he can't really tell how you're taking this news.

"I turn into.... a werewolf."

You blink back at him a little stunned at all this but it doesn't shock you too much. in a world in which superheroes run around defending the earth from aliens, you wouldn't be surprised if every mith was real.

Jack tries to search your face for your reaction but your eyes scan elsewhere, He tilts his head at you.

"Mi amour?" he asks.

You look back at him and squeeze his hands. "Sorry,"

"I know it's a lot to process, and I've tried so many times to tell you I've just never found the right moment or words," he admits.

"Is this why you left yesterday? because of the full moon?"

he nods. You still couldn't believe your boyfriend was a werewolf, But it didn't freak you out at all was the strangest thing. A comfortable silence fills the air as you gather your remaining thoughts.

"Why didn't you just tell me Jack?" you asked.

"I was scared to tell you, I didn't want to freak you out or anything," he admits.

Your heart aches thinking that he couldn't trust you enough with his secret, but you understood his fear behind the uncertainty of how you would react to this news. You were trying to be as calm as possible for his benefit, you never wanted to make him feel unsafe.

"Next time please come to me about these things," you say sincerely. "you can trust me."

You bring your arms around his back into a tight embrace, and he holds you like he's never going to let you go. He knew now more than ever before that he could trust you.

tags: @redheadspark @a-lumos-in-the-nox @skywalkersapologist @wacky-nerdchick @countlessimagines @nicolewithanee @starfirette @pandalandalopalis @michel-9 @creedtheconquer @user-jongdae @steve-harringtons-slut @charlie-heatons-whxre @emiemiemiii tagged some of you all who liked my other Jack fic and gave me suggestions for things! If you don’t want to be tagged in any future stuff please let me know!

#jack russell x reader #jack russell x fem!reader #fanfiction #mcu #werewolf by night #marvel comics #gael garcia bernal #gael garcia berna x reader #x reader #werewolf by night x reader #werewolf by night fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine