#meant to post this last night but I wasn’t up to writing tags so you get it now
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🖤Fuck or die🖤
Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!
Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit
A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still
It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.
And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.
You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.
Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.
Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.
- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:
- Y/n, get out of here!
Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.
You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.
- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.
- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.
His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.
- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?
Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.
- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.
- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.
- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.
- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.
He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.
- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?
Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.
- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?
You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.
- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.
Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.
You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.
- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?
Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.
- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.
You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.
- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.
- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:
- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.
You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.
- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.
You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.
With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.
- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.
Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.
He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.
Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.
- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.
A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.
- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?
His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.
- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.
With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it’d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.
- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.
Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.
One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.
Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:
- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.
Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.
Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.
A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.
It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.
You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.
- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.
As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.
Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.
And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:
SEE YOU SOON ♡
Slasher! König Masterlist
Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3
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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, 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, sad ending, 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
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Somebody’s Watching Me
What happens when you ignore him after a fight (#groveling).
Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader
Kaeya Alberich x Reader
Xiao x Reader
A/N: I actually wrote this back in July bc i wanted angst and tension and I meant to post it then but I didn’t have the balls to (still dont but--)... it took me three hours to write less than 3k.... im not who i used to be its so- whateverrrrr,,, as always more of my thoughts are after the tags kekeke, can you tell i still adore angst?
WC - around 2.7K
~~~
Diluc R.
Baby daddy Diluc would love to give you space after a disagreement but, he can’t. He finds himself distracted with everything and anything, nothing can get done when you’re upset with him. Without your forgiveness, he becomes a lost soul! He follows you around like a kicked puppy, he can’t help it! Listen, this man is protective as shit and refuses to be in your bad graces. He’ll do anything to make it up to you, even giving you space if you really want it (although that is the last thing he wants). If you ignore him for too long tho, he might just melt into a puddle of goo and wipe out!
“My love, please-”
“No, Dliuc!” You push away his gloved hand being held out to you, the one that so desperately yearns to cup your cheek, you scoff at it. You scoff at him and Diluc feels his heart aching deep in his chest. “You might not think much of it but, I do. Leave me alone.”
The words harshly slap against him, leaving the man speechless as he pathetically opens and closes his mouth to say anything to get you back. His feet feel as if they’re made out of stone and he knows that no weight could ever keep him from running to you but, now, with the hurt on your face; he feels too ashamed to do anything but watch you storm out of the Winery.
He didn’t know that a snide comment about his brother would snowball into this, you and your unmoving anger.
You’re just so stubborn, so beautiful, that it makes him want to tug at his fiery roots until he yanks his hair out. Diluc knows he said the wrong thing, that maybe talking so lowly of someone you consider a dear friend wasn’t the right thing to do but, he simply could not help it.
Because Diluc watches whenever you step into his field of vision, makes sure to keep you within a safe distance beside him so then he feels comfortable enough to carry on with whatever he was doing.
The same thing happened earlier in the night, everything was fine after his usual scan of the room, but then he heard your laugh. Your charming laugh, one that he thought was reserved for him was instead being spoiled by his brother. It’s a miracle the glass he was drying in his hand didn’t shatter at that moment. Diluc is more than aware of your close friendship with Kaeya, he knows of all the commissions the two of you share and he hates it. Your relationship irks him in a way that he can’t comprehend and he’s aware that he needs to fix that. Fix his jealousy. However, it’s clearly taking much longer than he thought.
Instead of worrying, Diluc focuses on organizing the newly cleaned glasses he left after dinner. One by one, he sets them up perfectly on the shelf before carefully placing each napkin in its rightful stack. It’s become his ritual of cleaning the Winery each night. But, now he’s just distracting himself from the inevitable feeling that has already begun to set in. A mix of worry and guilt, inevitably overpowered by rejection.
His strong fingers thump against the clean dining table and for a moment, Diluc distracts himself from the one thing he wants most. You. It’s a distraction short-lived because he cracks a single finger before making his way deep into the office. Perhaps his paperwork will give him a large enough headache to distract him once more.
The numbing pain building in his temple is nothing compared to the hollow ache blooming in his chest. The mundane task works, the countless amount of numbers he checks over and over again do their job until he hears the gentle sound of the door opening. For a moment, he thinks he may have imagined it but then he hears your footsteps and Diluc is out of his chair and pushing the door out of his way to meet you.
Even if you glance at him and ignore him, walking further up the stairs to create more distance, Diluc already feels the ache starting to soothe over. He follows you after you, keeping a safe amount of paces behind you. Quietly, he moves as if you won’t be able to notice his six-foot frame doing so.
“Beloved,” He starts and you greet him with the bedroom door closing in his face. The action causes a small smile to appear on his face, but Diluc quickly shakes it away. “please,”
It’s nearing midnight and neither of you has time for this. The last thing Diluc wants is you going to sleep upset with him.
He sighs softly before following you into the bathroom, the man feels ashamed and it burns brightly in his chest,
“I’m sorry,” He murmurs against your neck, slowly breathing in the alluring scent entangled with your hair. “please forgive me.” In his own selfish way, a side he can only show towards you, he doesn’t really give you a choice. Diluc’s strong, muscular arms are wrapped around your waist and holding onto you so tightly. You couldn’t get away from him now without a fight. “I’m working on… my jealousy. Darling, please.”
Even you have to admit how hard it is to deny Diluc when he is begging so earnestly.
You lightly place your hand on top of his own, squeezing him gently before glancing back to place a gentle kiss on his jaw. He sighs with relief.
“I won’t forgive you so easily next time.”
“I know. I will hold you to it.”
Kaeya A.
Kaeya, my forever #1 in this game, would need space after a heavy disagreement. If you walk one way then he will walk in the other direction until he cools off. However, it usually takes him about ten meters before he realizes that he should escort you wherever you’re going so he just follows while silently stewing in his own anger. Kaeya doesn’t show it, he never does because he doesn’t want to displease you but, his upset feelings are there. But, he loves you and would kiss the ground that you walk on to prove it to you.
“Fine then.”
“Fine!” You shriek, and how it got to this, Kaeya isn’t really sure. He watches as you turn away and walk towards the entrance of Mondstadt, his stare lingers for a few moments before he heads towards the cathedral. The two of you always know how to make a scene, even when no one is around and it is late into the evening and all the shops around have closed. He finds that to be a good thing, he didn’t want an audience tonight. Not like this anyway.
His blood is still rushing through his veins, he can hear his heart thumping in his ears. He can still recall the fire burning in your eyes and the distinct way that your hands trembled by your sides every time either of your voices got louder. The captain feels guilty above anything else, anger is still there but he knows it’s an emotion that will fade away quickly.
“Damn it, (Y/N),” Kaeya sighs before tilting his head back, giving himself the view of the starry sky. You always did love the night sky. He knows what he said was wrong, that maybe he shouldn’t have insinuated that you needed support on such a lowly ranked mission but, he couldn’t help it. Kaeya does not like to take chances with you and he would rather underestimate you than overestimate, even if that makes you burn brighter in fury than his brother’s hair.
He just didn’t expect you to get so angry, he thought that maybe you would understand and take it down a notch. Kaeya can’t stand to see you get hurt, to find you fighting multiple monsters all by yourself at once. There’s nothing in this world that could save him if something happened to you, why don’t you get that?
Any unresolved anger gets put on the back burner of his mind, Kaeya decides to make it his priority to look for you. He’ll be damned if you don’t want to be found.
“Stubborn ass,” He murmurs as he heads out the gates, there are a number of places that you could be. Kaeya finds himself so focused, consumed with this one thing he wants so badly, that he doesn’t even blink as he passes the darknight hero.
The redhead beside him lets out a noise that is somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.
“(Y/N),” Kaeya calls when he sees you on the other side of the bridge outside the walls of Mondstadt, feet hanging off of the side while you stare at the ducks in the lake below. He sounds playful and that instantly causes your face to sour. Your lips purse at his voice, eyebrows furrowing together, you merely blink at Kaeya before turning your attention back to the water. “don’t ignore me, sweetest.”
In a way, Kaeya is still trying to level his own anger. He’s still processing the effects of your previous conflict while balancing your current conversation. It takes him a moment or two to find the right footing.
“What’s got you bothered, babe?” He sits down beside you very close to the point that there are mere centimeters that keep your thighs from touching. You look at him with a blank expression but Kaeya can see the irritation embedded in your features. “Oh?” He sounds amused when you ignore him once more but, that could be further from the truth. Kaeya is neither entertained nor delighted by this, no, he’s pissed. “Come on, talk to me,” He urges again and this time, he wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. “you wound me, (Y/N).”
“You wound me!” You finally snap at him, eyes filled with a rage that clearly hasn’t left you from before. “You think I’m weak!”
“I do not, my darling. I just think you need some extra help whenever I can’t join you.” Kaeya’s words do little to soothe your anger, in fact, you just become more irritated. You attempt to push yourself up, to stand up and walk away from him but the captain pulls you tightly into his chest. “You’re not running away from me again~” Had you not been so upset you would have caved in at his honeyed words, taking a rest in his strong arms. “I just want you to stay safe, you get that, don’t you?”
Some part of you can understand that.
“I’m sorry if I had upset you, sweetest, but I want to make sure nothing happens to you.” Almost as if he is trying to emphasize his words, Kaeya’s arms squeeze around you tightly. “Please let me protect you,”
“I can protect you too, okay?” You stubbornly stare at him and the challenge that rests within your eyes makes his heart flutter. “and myself.”
“Do you promise me?” Kaeya dips his head down, brushing his lips over yours.
“I promise.”
And he seals that with a kiss.
Xiao
If, for some reason, you end up in a disagreement with Xiao and you tell him to politely ‘fuck off’; he will respect your wishes. Xiao will respect it and you by keeping a safe distance of 50 meters between the two of you. Sorry to say this (teehee not really) but the adeptus will not let you out of his sight. He makes it his duty to protect you so when he ends up being the one that hurts you, he works tenfold to make up for it. Quietly, he will follow until you’re ready to come back and talk with him once more.
“Leave me alone, Xiao.” You didn’t have to even look over your shoulder to tell he was there. Still, you frown when you see your boyfriend behind you perched on the top of a large rock. Irritation blooms in your chest and you hastily try to swallow it down by taking a few more steps down the dirt path.
“Okay.” His voice is soft, almost as it if he speaks it like a promise. You sigh out in relief, feeling a weight lifting off of your shoulders because sometimes you just need space. But then he appears on another boulder in front of you, teleporting, and it almost feels as if he is mocking you.
Xiao watches you carefully, he doesn’t let his amber eyes leave your sight for even a second as you continue to aimlessly walk through the Bishui plain. Had you not known him so well, you would have thought he was angry. His face is hard as his hollow eyes stare and stare to make sure you feel his presence all around you.
This is a normal Xiao. Protective and kind, always worrying about you almost more than needed. No amount of arguing or convincing could get him to see that you’re fine without him hovering around you every second of every day. The mere thought makes you wince and ache blooms in your chest at the harsh words spat between the two of you earlier in the evening.
You shouldn’t have called him obsessive and paranoid.
He shouldn’t have called you weak and helpless.
Carefully, you glance over your shoulder to look at him. Xiao looks lonely on the rock, he feels distant as his eyes wash over you. Almost to ask what’s wrong, he subtly tilts his head.
You’re not ready to give in, not yet. You keep walking, ignoring the gentle breeze of air transporting around you until you reach a familiar rock.
The earthly object is not hard to climb, it sits low enough that you can place yourself on it without any work. It provides such a pretty view of the plains, and the gentle green and yellow accents never fail to provide you with comfort and a sense of stability.
Xiao lets you have your breath of air, he watches as you stare longingly at the scene in front of you. He doesn’t glance at it once, he’s meant to protect Liyue and will do so with his entire being when it comes down to it but-
But, something claws in his chest and urges him to protect you even more.
If you want space, he will give it to you. However, he will always see to it personally that you get home safely. His mortal treasure is more precious to him than duties.
He can only stand you angry at him for so long.
Xiao’s footsteps are silent, he moves so quietly that you don’t hear him but you always feel him when he is near. You know that he is now standing beside you, just a little behind so that he doesn’t impose on your view.
“Are you ready to forgive me?” Xiao, as much as he doesn’t know about mortal emotions, knows how this needs to go. He asks for forgiveness, you grant it to him then you’re not angry with him anymore. He sees the scene play out time and time again between couples at the Wangshuu inn, but he would never admit that he pays attention to them.
“Have you even apologized yet?” You glance back at him, brief judgment in your eyes but any of your fighting spirit had diminished hours ago.
“Oh,” Xiao quietly gasps, hiding the noise as he gently sits down next to you, he forgot about that part, didn’t he? “I apologize.”
“I’m sorry.”
You both blurt it out at the same time and a heavy air descends upon the two of you. Xiao shakes his head before tilting it away from you as he lets his eyes glance over rock to rock.
“You’re not weak.” His soft tone almost makes you melt and the quiet murmur makes your cheeks burst with heat. “I don’t want anything to ever happen to you. If you call for me, I will always be there.”
You smile, you smile at him and he feels the stiff heart in his chest thump.
“I know, Xiao.” His eyes widen as you rest your hand over his own, how can you be so kind and understanding? “I shouldn’t have called you those things, I didn’t mean it, I was just angry and took it out on you.” Xiao almost finds it hard to focus, your touch is so soft and your lips are so full underneath the moonlight. Oh, how can’t he kiss you at this moment? “I like my space but, only if you’re there to share it with me.”
#diluc ragnvindr x reader#kaeya alberich x reader#xiao x reader#genshin x reader#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#xiao x y/n#genshin x you
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We love a writing prompt challenge - I'd love to see what you do with post!outbreak Joel and ❛ what if i hurt you? ❜
smut prompt challenge
Thank you so much for sending this one in to me my darling! <3 I decided to be a little adventurous with this one, I hope you like it. Also, it turned out to be a longer than I meant to, it was supposed to just be a blurb/short drabble and it turned into a 3k oneshot. Whoopsie. I am not at the point where I can write smut with no plot, I have to have at least a teensy bit of plot lmao.
pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
warnings/tags: 18+ only, minors dni. explicit. post outbreak, set in Jackson. established relationship. jealous/possessive/slightly intoxicated Joel. reader is just a lil bit toxic too. rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bit of spanking, praise and pet names. very lightly implied age gap (reader is referred to as kid by an older side character but she’s in her mid to late 20s, Joel is canon age, mid 50’s; purely self indulgent with the age thing tbh) okay, I think I got it all.
word count: 3k
“Alright kid, I’m heading out for the night,” Seth announced, flipping off all of the lights inside of The Tipsy Bison. He made sure to leave one last dim yellow light on for you so that you could finish cleaning up around the bar. He tossed you a set of keys to the building from where he stood near the front door. As he shrugged into his blue denim jacket, he asked you one last time, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay locking up the place all on your own at this hour?”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You walked over towards him, twirling the set of keys between your fingers. “Oh please. What could possibly happen to me in a secured, gated community where everybody knows everybody, Seth?” You questioned him, shaking your head slightly. “And besides, it’s not like we’ve got a register full of cash just waiting to be robbed. It’s the end of the world, so I think I’ll be just fine closing up shop.”
“Well, you got me there,” he sniffed. “I suppose I don’t have anything to worry about.” He paused, lowering his voice as he added, “And much less when you have your very own guard dog sitting over there and keeping his watchful eye on you.”
You glanced over your shoulder at Joel. He was sitting at the opposite end of the long bar nursing what had to be his third or fourth glass of barrel aged bourbon; even after all the shit you two had been through together over the last several months while making the dangerous and violent trek across the country, Joel had never, not once, behaved like this with you. He had never been this ridiculously overprotective of you, not until you’d begun working as one of the evening bartenders at The Tipsy Bison. He wasn’t all too fond of your new role in Jackson, and he’d made it abundantly clear by dropping in late at night to make sure the rowdier male patrons who would frequent the bar after evening patrol were behaving, keeping their hands to themselves—and off of his girl.
You turned back to Seth, flashing him a sheepish, apologetic smile. “Look, I know he can be kind of rough around the edges sometimes. But he’s not all that bad, you know?”
“Kind of rough around the edges? One look from Miller can send anyone running for their lives in the other fucking direction,” he remarked with an amused snort as he pushed the door open. “Be sure to turn off that last light before you leave, kid. Oh, and don’t forget that I’m going need you here tomorrow at three for the opening shift, alright?”
“Got it. See you tomorrow,” You said, giving him a little wave as he left. You pulled the door closed and locked it behind him, giving it a gentle tug to make sure it was secure. Shoving the set of keys into the back pocket of your light blue denim cut off shorts, you made your way back across the quiet, empty bar and over towards Joel. You let out a soft sigh, lightly draping an arm around his shoulders. “Joel, please. It’s almost one o’ clock in the morning. I still have quite a bit to do around here before I can leave,” You stated. You reached up, affectionately running your fingers through his graying, dark brown curls. “You have patrol duty in a few hours. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll be fine on my own.”
He scoffed. “Ain’t no way in fuckin’ hell I’d let you walk home alone at this hour.”
You sighed again, withdrawing your hand from his hair as you stepped back.
Joel turned on the bar stool he’d been perched on for most of the night, his dark brown eyes taking the sight of you in; they glazed over your fitted, tight black tee shirt with a neckline that scooped way too low and exposed too much skin for his liking. His lips pressed together into a thin, tight line as his gaze wandered down further, noticing how the frayed hem of your cut offs fell a couple of inches above the middle of your thighs. “You really gotta fuckin’ wear that outfit every night?”
You glanced down at yourself, frowning. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“I just don’t fuckin’ like it,” he muttered gruffly, his fingers holding onto his glass of whiskey in a near death grip. “You’re showin’ off way too goddamn much. Every fucker you served tonight got more than a fuckin’ eyeful. I probably watched ‘bout a dozen idiots stare at your tits and openly flirt with you right in front of me, you know that?”
“There’s a reason why this is the uniform I have to wear, Joel,” You teased with a giggle, hoping to ease the tension that was practically radiating off of the man.
“You fuckin’ enjoyin’ this?” He asked bitterly as he glared at you. He drained the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass down onto the counter with a little more force than what was necessary. His jealousy was seeping out of him, and you’d be a damned dirty liar if you said you didn’t find it so incredibly hot.
“Mm, just a little bit,” You replied with another tiny giggle. You leaned up against the bar and crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze meeting his; you noticed the way the seething anger flashed in his dark eyes. His raw, raging emotions were only exacerbated by the amount of bourbon he’d had to drink that night. “Oh lighten up, Joel! I’m only kidding and you know that. Listen, the outfit and the flirting, it’s just part of my job as a bartender. It’s something that all the girls around here have to do. I’m just eye candy for the lonely and horny patrolmen who have nothing better to do with their free time. Besides, Seth makes it very clear to all the fucking guys around here that they can look but they can’t touch—”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Joel snarled, suddenly rising to his feet. “I don’t give a fuck if they don’t touch you, alright? I don’t want those bastards lookin’ at you, hell I don’t even want any of them so much as fuckin’ breathin’ in your direction!” He drew closer towards you, his voice going so dangerously low it sent a little chill right up the length of your spine. “You’re mine, you fuckin’ understand me? You are mine.”
Your playful smile faded slightly.
His possessiveness should have bothered you. It should have angered you, even. You were a human being, not his piece of property. But as you drank in the sight of him, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, the way his nostrils flared, and not to mention that all too familiar murderous look in his eye, you couldn’t help the wanting heat that flooded your lower belly.
“Then take me,” You murmured, your voice soft.
Joel sobered up ever so slightly. “What?”
“I didn’t stutter, Joel. I said, take me.”
Joel stared at you, mouth agape. “You’ve lost your damn mind. We’re in a fuckin’ bar—”
“A dimly lit, locked bar with no one else around,” You smirked, pulling your top down to expose the black lace bra you wore underneath. “You say I’m yours, so show me. Right here, right now.”
Joel’s cock twitched behind his zipper, his mouth going dry when he caught a glimpse of the way the soft, delicate lace hugged the delicious curve of your breasts. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him as he watched you bite down on your bottom lip and tilt your head up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently—you knew how to play him just like a fucking fiddle.
“Baby, no. Not here.”
You pouted playfully. “Don’t you want me?”
“Not like this,” he rasped, although the continued straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans stated otherwise. “I’m drunk, I’m pissed off—I just don’t trust myself with you right now.”
You smiled sweetly at him and stepped forward to shrink the gap of distance between your bodies.
You slid your hands underneath his brown jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. You placed a hand on his chest, right over his heartbeat as your eyes met his. “I trust you.”
He rigidly shook his head. “What if I hurt you?”
“I trust you,” You reassured him. “Please, Joel. I just need you to fuck me, right here, right now. I need you to show me that I’m all yours. Yours and only—”
Joel didn’t even bother to let you finish.
He reached out for you and pulled your body flush against his, his mouth crashing violently against yours; his tongue darted through your parted lips, dominating your own in a way that made you melt into a submissive little puddle right in his large hands. He wasted no time, moving his lips down to your neck where he started nipping and biting at your delicate flesh with his teeth—hard enough that your silky skin would be covered in discolored marks tomorrow. But any worries about him being too rough had gone out the window. He wanted to mark his territory. He wanted every motherfucker in Jackson to know you belonged to him.
“Joel,” You moaned out his name and clutched fistfuls of his dark green flannel shirt.
He said nothing, allowing his mouth to continue ravaging you as his hands started ridding you of your clothes; he broke contact for as second, just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. You aided him and reached around yourself to unhook your bra, carelessly tossing it somewhere behind the bar. Your shorts and matching lace underwear came off next, along with your tan brown cowboy boots.
Normally, Joel would take his time. He’d kiss and worship his way across every inch of your entire body, but not tonight—no, tonight he was going to take you quickly, roughly. Between all the alcohol and his pent up frustrations, being gentle was the very last thing on his mind.
“C’mere.” Joel yanked you over towards a small, square wooden table just a few feet away from the bar, the same damn table where patrons would enjoy their after work duty drinks. He gripped the back of your neck and shoved you down, bending you right over the table; you let out a little gasp as your warm, naked body hit the cold, laminated wood. His rough, calloused hands glided their way down your smooth back and he took a single step backwards to admire the view. “Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me see you—all of you.”
You glanced over your shoulder at him with lustful, hooded eyes. Biting your lower lip, you did as you were told and spread your legs, your entire body erupting in goosebumps as the chilly air coming from the vents of the building hit your throbbing center.
Joel groaned, noticing the way your inner thighs were slick, coated with your own arousal. “Look at you, my pretty girl. Already soakin’ wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
Giggling, you turned away from him and pushed your feet apart even wider. You then opened your mouth to speak, but instead let out a loud yelp when you felt him deliver a swift but harsh strike to your ass with the palm of his hand.
He’d never fucking done that before.
Joel began kneading at the spot he’d just struck you with his fingers so aggressively that you were certain you’d find bruises there in the morning.
The thought alone made you drip onto the floor.
“Joel—” You lifted yourself slightly off of the table.
“Stay down,” he commanded, pushing you back down.
You nodded and pressed your cheek flat against the table, your wet, aching walls clenching in pure anticipation as you heard his belt buckle clinking followed by the sweet sound of his zipper coming undone. Seconds later, the tip of his rock hard length pressed against your drenched slit.
You spread your legs even wider, prompting Joel to chuckle.
“You want me bad, don’t you my little darlin’?” he nearly taunted you. “Hm? You want me inside that pretty little pussy?”
“God yes I do—please fuck me,” You pleaded him. “Please, Joel. Please.”
He hummed. “Since you’re bein’ an awfully good girl and askin’ so politely…”
Joel didn’t even finish his sentence. There was a momentary pause and before you could ask him what the hell he was waiting for, he slammed into you, sheathing himself in your tight heat.
No warning. No warmup.
No time for you to think about anything except for the feeling of his thick, hard cock filling you up and stretching you completely.
You gasped out as all the air left your lungs. “Joel!”
Gripping your shoulders, he slid himself out of you entirely before delivering another powerful blow, one that had you seeing fucking stars. He didn’t give your body any time to adjust to him as he began to thrust, picking up a wild pace that you felt would split you in half if he didn’t ease up.
He’d fucked you plenty of times before—but never like this.
Senseless.
You gripped the edges of the table, gasping for a breath—you tried to cry out, but when you opened your mouth, all that came out were quick, pathetic little pants, desperate for air.
It hurt.
But the kind of hurt that felt so fucking good that you wanted more and more of it.
“You look so goddamn pretty, takin’ my cock like that,” Joel grunted out. His hands had abandoned your shoulders in favor of your hips, his fingers bruising the soft flesh there. “What a fuckin’ good girl you are for me, baby. Such a good girl—”
Planting your shaky hands on the table top, you pushed yourself up.
Joel’s hands left your hips. He slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling your naked back against his broad, clothed chest where he held you firmly in place as he continued to fuck you into oblivion with his barbaric, almost animalistic thrusts.
“Who do you belong to?” he whispered into your ear, his other hand resting on your stomach. “Tell me, darlin’. Who do you belong to?”
“You,” You somehow managed to choke out a reply between gasps. “I belong to you, Joel.”
“Yeah? You’re mine? All fuckin’ mine?”
You could only nod your head in response.
Joel’s arm around you tightened. “Say it,” he demanded. “I need you to say it.”
“I’m yours, all fucking yours!”
His hand moved from your stomach and dove between your thighs, two of his fingers finding your clit as swollen and sensitive as it had ever been. His digits circled the bundle of nerves, causing your legs to tremble as you felt the beginning of an orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly.
“Oh fuck,” You breathed out in a moan. “Joel, I’m gonna—”
“Come for me baby,” he encouraged you huskily, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you to come all over my cock like the good girl you are.”
Finally, you managed to find your cries inside of you; they tore themselves from your throat where they had been lodged, echoing throughout the entire, empty bar as you came undone, your walls clenching tightly around him.
“Fuck baby,” Joel released a deep, guttural groan and shoved you back over the table, pinning you down on it with both his hands as he spilled inside of you.
He leaned over you, his body hovering over yours as the two of you took a minute to catch your breath. He gave one final gentle thrust, groaning again when he felt the way you fluttered around him.
“Already wantin’ more sweetheart?” Joel planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before finally pulling out of you. He stepped back, pulling his jeans back up into place; he stopped for just a moment, noticing the way his cum dripped out of you and slowly trickled down the inside of your thighs. Resisting the primal urge to take you all over again, he zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. He then realized you still hadn’t moved and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Baby I didn’t hurt you did I—”
“Shut up,” You told him, lazily waving a hand at him. “Don’t ruin it.”
Joel couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head. “You really are somethin’ else, you know that?”
“Mhm, but that’s why you love me,” You reminded him, glancing over your shoulder at him with a tiny little smirk.
Joel leaned over, quickly feathering a trail of kisses down your spine before he started walking around the bar and picking up your clothes. He handed them to you along with his jacket and helped you clean yourself up with a clean rag from behind the bar. As you dressed, he disappeared behind the counter once more, returning just moments later with a glass of bourbon in one hand and another clean, damp cloth in the other. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to a bar stool and you obeyed. You sipped on the hard liquor watching as he started wiping down the table. Discarding the cloth into a garbage bin, he began putting all the chairs up on the tables for you. Looking around, he asked, “What else do you need me to do?”
Setting the glass down, you stood up and shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come in early tomorrow and finish up my tasks before the bar opens.” You smiled tiredly at him. “Let’s just go home, yeah?”
“Yeah, you need to get some rest—” Joel stopped, his dark eyes widening when he caught a glimpse of the marks that had already begun forming on your neck. “Shit,” he muttered as he hurried over to you. He moved the lapels of his jacket out of the way and touched them delicately. “You’re not gonna be able to hide these, baby.”
“It’s fine,” You grinned at him. “At least now, everyone will know who I belong to.”
#smut prompt challenge#Joel Miller#joel miller smut#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x oc#joel miller hbo#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller angst
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loved your kabru fic!! would you be willing to write a 5+1 chilchuck/reader fic? along the lines of “5 times they nearly kissed, and 1 time post-canon where they actually did”?
count to six
…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! pining, almost kisses, arguments but they make up, extremely minor manga spoilers, chilchuck being bad with feelings, pre-relationship and post-relationship, most of these take place pre-canon
…word count! 3697
…notes! i think receiving a chilchuck request is just a rite of passage for a dunmeshi blog at this point. i hope the old man likers are pleased by this one!
one
You’d always admired Chilchuck, really. And not just in a professional sense, mind you.
Of course you respected his skills and his professionalism, but after working with him for some time, you could clearly see that there was so much more about him that continued to catch your eye. Those little slips in his usual attitude were what fascinated you, keeping you waiting for the next snippet of his personality you could get a glimpse of.
As a man of great pride in his profession, accepting help or being “coddled” weren’t exactly on Chilchuck’s to-do list. If he was interrupted or goodness forbid challenged while he was trying to do his job, he’d become even crabbier than those literal treasure crabs monsters he hated so much. Nonetheless, you cared for him and your party, so you offered to lend a hand where you felt it was appropriate.
Maybe it was just you, but the half-foot almost seemed more receptive of your intervention than he usually was with others. Perhaps it was because you did your best to be unobtrusive but firm in your offers, cementing yourself not as someone looking down on him, but a teammate who understood the importance of cooperation.
While your professional relationship was an enjoyable one, it was nice to see the man let loose every now and again. Around and after mealtimes he’d become more talkative, especially if he’d had some booze to wash down his helping of whatever was available that night. This particular evening, you’d had a particularly nice stir fry with the grains you’d bought and even a bit of salt-cured meat and some dried legumes that kept extremely well. Even if your meals were sometimes a hodgepodge of whatever would be cheap or long-lasting, it filled you up, and you were grateful for that.
The rest of the party members had just stood up to go and wash their dishes and utensils, and you were about to rise as well before stealing a quick glance at the half-foot next to you and immediately blurting out,
“Oh, you’ve got something.”
Chilchuck could only raise one of his eyebrows, not quite understanding what you meant from your wording. “Something?” he parroted.
“On your face,” you would quickly clarify, leading to spending several seconds watching him try to get it, making both amusement and slight frustration bubble up within you.
In fact, you were so concentrated on wiping off the smeared food with your sleeve that you didn’t even notice the sound of his squeak — yes, his squeak — when you leaned forward to get a closer look. In hindsight, perhaps you’d miscalculated the amount of space between you, because your faces were practically touching, despite you not realizing it at the time. In your concentration, your companion even noticed the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration. It wasn’t something he’d intended to fixate on, but in the moment it seemed like it was all he could do while he waited for you to be done. After all, it moved suddenly, you two might accidentally…..
“Alright, got it.” You pulled away so quickly that he hardly had time to comprehend the motion before your grinning face was already visible, albeit more distant now. Only after the fact would you realize that you had most certainly invaded his personal space without asking, though it felt too late to really apologize for it properly without making things awkward.
What both you and him didn’t notice, however, was the way his ears tinged pink at the proximity between the two of you.
two
With the embarrassment of the previous incident still fresh in your mind, the second offense certainly didn’t fly over your head this time.
Though, with all fairness, it wasn’t like it was something that could be helped. Rather than simple ignorance of personal space, this was a total accident.
In order to progress into the deeper floors of the dungeon, it was only natural that any party would eventually have to deal with some traps getting in their way. Your party in particular was currently being led by your expert, that being Chilchuck, through a plain, narrow hallway that was purportedly rigged with various traps and projectiles.
Both the walls and floor were made of what appeared to be a completely uniform stone construction, but with his keen senses and knowledge of dungeons, Chilchuck was able to deduce a pattern of which stones were safe to step on, the rest being triggers for various dangerous mechanisms.
Everyone was following behind Chilchuck in pretty much single file. He would traverse the safe path, then you would copy his steps, so on and so forth down the line. Usually, this method worked perfectly for these sorts of puzzles, as long as nobody moved too early or had a misstep. Unfortunately for you in particular, a misstep is exactly what you made.
When trying to land gracefully on the ball of your foot, the weight shifted, forcing you to roll onto your ankle with a pained sound. Instinctually, you tried to put your weight back into your other foot and staggered, hardly even comprehending the way you felt the ground beneath you sink ever so slightly.
All you really registered at first was the sound of somebody shouting, not to mention the feeling of your body being tugged forward with a roughness that stemmed not from malice, but from desperation. Someone was tugging on your shirt, so much so that you immediately fell onto your knees and proceeded to slide across the floor for a short distance as well. If you didn’t have something covering your knees, you’re sure that would have hurt like hell.
The pain was just on the cusp of excruciating, making you want to reach down and hold your injured foot, but not before you noticed the warmth of a body directly in front of you, close enough to wrap both arms around.
Chilchuck still had a grasp on your shirt, breathing heavily after what was most certainly a terrifying moment for him. It’s strange, really — he always insisted that he was only here to guide you, not bail you out, but in moments like these, the sight of a party member in harm’s way always seemed to seep through his stoic exterior and inflict him with sheer panic.
You almost wanted to smile at the thought, finding it almost soothing, but you figured it would seem pretty odd considering you’d freshly injured yourself and you were also far too close to your coworker for comfort.
A free hand laid itself on top of Chilchuck’s, still shaky. The man subsequently withdrew his hand, shocked at the unprompted touch despite literally having grabbed you moments before. That was…. different, he attempted to reason to himself.
Some voices sounded from behind the both of you after you withdrew from one another to catch your breath.
“Are you alright?” came a soft voice that you instantly recognized as Falin. “If I could, I’d heal you right now, but I really can’t reach you with these trapped tiles all around. I hope it’s okay that we have to wait until we clear the traps.”
“Not like we have much of a choice, so I’m fine.” You listened to your own voice bounce off the walls, noting how wary you sounded. Outside of your field of vision, the half-foot also winced. You weren’t in great shape, sure, but it really could have been worse…. he thought that maybe telling himself that would make him feel less guilty about the state you were in, but for some strange reason, the feeling just wouldn’t go down. Almost like an especially bitter tasting liquor.
Toshiro — or Shuro, as most of the party tended to call him — was the next in line behind you, and luckily well equipped to carry you the rest of the way. It was a good thing, some might even say a stroke of luck that you’d been positioned in front of him instead of, say, Marcille, but Chilchuck couldn’t help but follow you with his eyes. Seeing you be carried by the man somehow only made him feel more on edge, instead of at ease like he naturally should have. That bitter taste again…
Despite your injury, you felt surprisingly alert, and your eyes continued to dart around, assessing your surroundings now that you didn’t have to focus so intensely on the floor. You saw an arrow lodged into a gap between two of the stones in the wall, probably freshly fired when you triggered that trap. If you hadn’t been pulled away in time, you might have gotten seriously injured or even died.
By the time your gaze landed back on Chilchuck, he was already turning around, but you could’ve sworn that he was looking at you in the split second before he turned his back on you.
The thought that maybe you captivate him even half as much as he captivates you lets you close your eyes with a smile on your face.
three
Ever since that incident in the hallway, you’d started to suspect that Chilchuck was avoiding you.
It wasn’t anything offensive or egregious, but you could sense him becoming even more withdrawn than usual. You two weren’t exactly the chummiest of people with one another in the first place, but lately he’d been acknowledging you less and less, not responding to smart remarks or offers to help him like he usually did.
You knew that he was still noticing you, judging by the slight turn of his head towards the sound of your voice and the occasional clenching of his jaw. Clearly, something was on his mind that he didn’t feel like sharing. Fairly typical, though you couldn’t help but miss that thin sliver of himself he let others see. With you, he was open just enough to at least let you get your foot in the door, and you didn’t want to lose that.
So, determined to get to the bottom of your companion’s heightened defensiveness, you were able to catch him alone when he’d volunteered to be on night watch. With everyone else asleep, you’d finally be able to talk to him without the concern of being overheard.
The half-foot immediately noticed your presence, you’re sure of that. Of course, you were still quiet as to not wake anyone up, it was more so that no matter how quiet you could be, absolutely nothing would slip past his keen senses. Detecting threats and things of note in the dungeon was his job, after all.
No time was wasted in cutting to the chase, certainly.
“Are you avoiding me?”
You couldn’t catch a glimpse of Chilchuck’s face from where you stood, but the way he slowly shifted from one foot to another suggested he was deliberating his response. There was also also a light tapping sound that rang through the space between you, and after a minute of darting your eyes around you realized that he had his arms crossed and was tapping his index finger against his forearm.
The thing you couldn’t notice, of course, was the way his eyes were blown wide with the fear of a man who had absolutely no idea what to say. It’s not like he was ever any good at talking about these things. That’s why he thought it better to just avoid the issue altogether!
Clearly, he should’ve known better. You had other plans for him, just like you always do. Most of those plans usually ended up making him somehow feel like a total fool, even if he was just trying to keep it professional. So why? Why did he respond in earnest instead of shooing you away?
“It’s just sort of a habit, I guess. I try to avoid forming personal biases, especially ones based around personal relationships.” Once those words were finally pushed up and out of his throat, the man at least felt brave enough go turn around and face you, scratching the back of his neck now. “It’s pretty much the most common cause of issues within and between parties, so it’s something I’ve come to be wary of over the years.”
His words caused something to click in your head, and you couldn’t help but grin at him despite the circumstances.
“Are you essentially saying I’m your favorite?”
Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it, what with how the man’s face scrunched up in both embarrassment and frustration. Maybe it was just an effect of the dim lighting, but he seemed a bit red as well.
“Now’s not the time to act smug, you know that’s not my point.” The hand that was previously behind his neck shifted to point at you accusingly, but it didn’t quite feel sincere. There was something about the way it wavered in midair that made you feel certain that he wasn’t truly angry. “I’m just saying that I prefer to regulate the group environment than just go around making merry without a second thought!”
Dark pupils followed your form, moving up to stand next to him now. “I understand what you mean, but there is a lot of value in making merry, you know? Or even moments like this, for example.”
Chilchuck felt so confused at those words that he dropped his irritated expression entirely. What could possibly be valuable about something so frustrating as his own biases? It’s not like his feelings had any tangible value like a gold coin or a precious jewel. Love was nice, sure, but that alone couldn’t put food on the table.
Sensing his confusion, you could only continue. “Maybe you only view it from a professional lens, but that doesn’t mean it can’t make sense from that standpoint, you know? Your coworkers like to know you. Playing favorites really isn’t an issue when you’re not out boss or anything, I’d think. You’re our equal. And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s hard to confidently stand on equal ground with somebody who’s so closed off. Makes it hard to trust.”
Trust?
Wasn’t trust in his skills enough? He was already an extremely skilled individual, what reason would most people have…. not to trust him….
Ah.
It felt so shameful to just look at the ground as if he was being scolded. What else could he do, though? It felt like the mechanism of a trap with a tentacle wedged in the crevices, keeping it from moving altogether. Your words were that obstruction, stopping the inner workings of his mind in its tracks.
“Could you look at me, Chilchuck?”
Total bewilderment did nothing to prevent the half-food from turning to meet your face, level with his own. One of your hands hovered over his cheek, never quite touching. In a similar fashion, his fingers ghosted over your wrist.
“Even just taking a moment to look at someone, take in each other’s presence…. it’s a start. Not open, but not closed, either. You can just leave that door open a crack. It shows people that you trust them with not only your time, but yourself.”
His eyes were utterly transfixed on the movements of your lips.
You were right there, you were so close. A perfect chance served on a silver platter. Even so…
“…Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” The moment Chilchuck’s hand departed from your wrist, you withdrew your own hand, backing off into the distance the two of you previously had. He turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, not quite facing you, but not quite facing away, either. By no means did the man want to shut you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to open up just yet.
The brief silence was interrupted by a quick remark. “You better mean that, because I’m not opposed to cornering you like this again.”
Chilchuck snorted at your words. “Fine, fine, I heard you. Never let me catch a break, do you?”
No, not just yet.
four
It had hardly been two days since your talk, and the man was already admiring you while you slept like some kind of freak.
Lord, what were you doing to him?
He just couldn’t sleep, that’s what he said to himself as his eyes remained fixed on your face. In hindsight, he almost regrets letting you put your sleeping bag next to his. If you hadn’t, he wouldn’t have such an easy way to stare at you instead of sleeping like he was supposed to.
In the end, though, he supposed it was his fault. He had a harder time saying no to you, and he hated it.
More than that, he hated how vulnerable you were in this moment. So close to him, yet so at ease. Did you really trust him like you talked about? In truth, Chilchuck himself wasn’t sure if you should. Did you really know just how depraved and selfish he actually was?
I mean, if he really wanted to, he could do something horrible and you wouldn’t even know. Take advantage of this state, and do whatever he wanted.
He bet he could even get close enough to…
The half-foot turned over.
Not tonight.
five
Just after the party lost Falin, as well as Toshiro and Namari leaving as a result, Chilchuck asked to talk with you.
“You shouldn’t go looking for her. Especially not with us.”
You weren’t sure whether you were angry or just disappointed. Did he really not understand?
“I’ve already made up my mind, Chilchuck. You already know how I feel.” This response only seemed to further provoke your companion. With nobody else around to hear, he had no problem raising his voice at you.
“Oh, I know perfectly well!” When he pointed at you, his hand didn’t waver, trained perfectly on your form. “I know that you’re absolutely insane if you think this is in any way a good idea.”
Frustration started to overtake your face, and in turn you shouted back, “I don’t know why you always feel like caring about others and being insane is the same thing! It isn’t!”
“Don’t assume how I feel!” As you both shouted back and forth, you both slowly inched closer to one another, until eventually you were standing toe to toe. The pressure eventually got so intense that you could only collapse to your knees and plead,
“Then just tell me. Tell me, please. All I want is to know.”
Well, that was a quick way to make him feel like the biggest asshole on earth. You on your knees, asking him so simply for something that couldn’t be bought or sold. Asking for him.
“I…”
I can’t, he wanted to say. He tried to force out the words, but he nearly choked, as if he was about to cry. Holding back that reaction, he tried his best to do what he knew you needed.
…He leveled with you and put a hand on your shoulder. It really was so hard to say no to you.
“Not yet, okay? I promise I will once this is all over, just… not yet. Wait for me, will you at least do that much?”
After a few moments of catching your own breath, you were able to look at his face again, your own now being blank and receptive. “Outside of the dungeon, you mean?”
He nodded. Your expression shifted to become more unsure, but only slightly.
“And how do I know you’ll come back?”
Perhaps just to give you a taste of your own medicine, Chilchuck grinned softly, deciding to throw your own words back in your face like you’d done to him.
“I thought you knew that you were always my favorite.”
All that and more, really. One day, he’d be able to tell you all about it.
six - after the dungeon
You’d often catch your lover slumped over at the counter of the shop after it closed. One of your favorite things to do was come up behind him and put your hands on his shoulders. Sometimes he’d be too lost in his thoughts to notice you and be startled by your sudden appearance. Tonight, however, he merely sighed and relaxed into your touch.
“Hard day today?” When he groaned in response, you had to suppress a giggle. That man really could be such a drama queen sometimes.
“How could you tell?” His question, unlike yours, was laced with sarcasm. Eventually, he lifted up his head and twisted his torso to look at you. “Had a fair amount of house calls today. Kahka Brud is a nice place to live and all, but I’d rather not be running around it at my age.”
“Yes, yes, you poor thing.”
“Hey!” His exclamation in conjunction with his pout sent you into a fit of hushed laughter.
Wiping a tear from your eye, you continued, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just teasing. One of these days you really ought to hire someone else to split the workload. When Mei’s in the area, we can certainly ask you about it.”
Chilchuck acknowledged your advice with a hum, but didn’t respond, instead choosing to fully turn around and put his hands on your sides.
“Mhm, I’ll get to that later.” His voice slurred from tiredness. “Right now, I just missed you.”
Your lover’s blunt declarations of missing you never failed to make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. In fact, you were about to return the sentiment in kind, but didn’t get the chance before the half-foot lurched his body forward to close the space between you.
His mouth was lax against yours, and his tongue lazily poked through the gap, not stretching the inside of your mouth, but merely resting as if it belonged there. It was a lazy kiss, but one full of warmth and a true sense of… home, really.
No mind was paid to the string of saliva left by him as you withdrew, all you could say being a quiet “I missed you too.”
After all, your faces didn’t stay apart for too long after that.
#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works!#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi imagines#dungeon meshi x reader#delicous in dungeon#delicious in dungeon x reader#delicious in dungeon imagines#chilchuck tims#chilchuck tims x reader
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breaking point
Pairings: Wrecker x afab!Reader
Words: 16707 (it wasn't meant to be this long but it ran away from me)
Warnings: So much fluff! Wrecker goes into 'protective mode' real hard. The old "skin-to-skin contact to stay alive' trope because why not. Slight dub-con but not really, not at all actually. Love confessions. Dirty Talk...or at least this is how I think Wrecker would sound when he's fucking your brains out. Fingering. Oral sex (female and male receiving). Safeword because I think it would be needed with someone as big and strong as Wrecker. Brief anal play. Squirting. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong people). Manhandling. Creampie/Breeding Kink. Size Kink because let's face it, this is Wrecker we're talking about.
Prompt: "Let me see those eyes."
Summary: You and Wrecker are stuck in a storm when Wrecker leads the two of you into an abandoned cabin. The both of you try to keep warm until Hunter and Tech find a way to come to you without crashing the Marauder. You manage to get some rest, but it seems that your bodies crave each other even while you're sleeping. And to no one's surprise, it's your breaking point.
A/N: @imarvelatthestars, I promised you one last one and here it is. It's so so late and I do apologize for that. I am a sucker for this trope to be honest and I feel you you'll enjoy it too. @cloneficgiftexchange I apologize to you as well for posting this way past the deadline but I wanted to tag you any way because being a part of this gift exchange really pushed me to write more, for characters that I haven't written for before and I thought I would never write for, and I am beyond thankful for that. Do let me know if the characterization is not right and I'll make those changes.
If one of his brothers told him a day ago that you would be relying on him to survive, Wrecker would have laughed until he was crying on the ground. He would have said it wouldn’t happen in a million rotations before walking away to try and find you so you can laugh at the joke as well. But the truth of the matter was, your survival did depend on him now, not because he was smarter or had a better plan, but because of the sheer strength he could exert to get you out of a tough situation.
Which is what was happening now.
He glances to the side to ensure you’re still breathing, and he frowns deeply when he sees how blue your face is turning from the snow surrounding the two of you. He pushes harder through the thick layer of white preventing the two of you from reaching the cabin you spotted before the snow picked up. Kriff, if it were anyone else, Wrecker would not have been this worried about the inconvenient circumstances he found himself in. He would not have been as tense and he would have already started to complain about the lecture he was sure Hunter was going to give him upon his return to the group.
But it wasn’t just anyone. It was you. And the others would have every right to blame him if something dire were to happen to you.
None of that mattered to Wrecker though. The only thing that he cared about was your safety, and what he could do to ensure you make it through the night. He looks back again and curses when he sees you slowing down. Not thinking of how more difficult it will be for him to make a path to the cabin, Wrecker turns around and takes three large steps towards you.
“Come here,” he doesn’t leave any room for discussion, leaning down and picking you up with ease, and grumbling to himself when he finds you too weak to argue with him.
Maker, you were worse than he thought.
“You’re going to stay awake for me, right an’edee?” Wrecker shakes you in his arms, waiting until your eyes flutter open before he begins walking towards the cabin again.
“Th-that bett-tter not be a- a….kriff, an ins-sult!” Your teeth shudder through the warning, and if Wrecker wasn’t so worried about the frozen tear streaks on your cheek or the dark shade of bluish purple your skin is quickly becoming, he would have laughed at the pathetic comment and joked about how little you could do to him if he were actually insulting you. Wrecker doesn’t respond, no matter how much he wishes he can tell you that he wouldn’t stand the mere thought of you dying in his arms. This was not the time to bring up his emotions, and he wouldn’t want to put you in an awkward position since it looked like you were going to be alone for the next rotation or so.
He curses the weather, hating that Hunter was right in telling him to find shelter soon since they wouldn’t be able to come and take them. The Marauder was kriffed up as is and this weather would certainly put them all under if they were to come and rescue the two of you now.
No, the best option was to wait it out and hope some type of miracle happens where you stay alive and the rest of the Batch comes in time to leave the planet with the two of you still breathing.
“We’re almost there, don’t- don’t fall asleep on me.” Wrecker says as he holds you up with one arm and uses his blaster to push down on the snow and make room for his legs to do the rest. He normally had great stamina, but the weather conditions, mixed with holding you in his arms, puts a strain on his muscles. It wasn’t that you were heavy, far from it. You were always light to him as a matter of fact. No, it was the fact that you were holding on to him like he was your life line, and the proximity between your chests was sending him into a frenzy. There was armor and piles of clothes separating the two of you, but Wrecker was hyper aware of having you so close to him, and with each little harsh breath you took, he felt his cheeks flush a deeper shade of red because he can feel it so close to his jaw.
“Wake up, doc!” He notices that your eyes have been closed for longer than a minute, and when they flutter open and frown at him, he sighs in relief. It was better to have you angry with him than dead in his arms.
Fuck, don’t think of her dead.
“W-wreck, if you k-keep yell-lling in m-my ears, I- I…I’ll- st-top making you t-those coo-cookies you l-like so muh-much.” A strong gust of wind passes through, making you sob in his arms and nuzzle closer into his neck, the only bit of skin you had access to. Wrecker growls in anger, the sounds emitting from your mouth making him wish the group never agreed to Cid’s stupid mission.
Feeling you shake violently in his arms, Wrecker musters up all the energy left in his body and trudges through the mountain of snow, not paying any attention to the extreme fatigue his body was feeling as he moved faster towards the safety of the small house.
“I can live with that, mesh’la…as long as you’re still alive.” He isn’t really paying attention to what he’s saying, and he vaguely hears you gasp at his response. Wrecker looks down and sees your eyes widen in surprise, and he shakes his head in irritation because he already knows you were still planning on joking, even now when you were quickly becoming a human popsicle.
“W-who are you ‘nd wh-what hav-ve you done with m-my Wr-wrecker?” If he wasn’t trying to bring you to safety, Wrecker would have fallen to the ground at the sound of you calling him yours. Never in his life did he imagine he’d hear such a sentiment from you, and he hated that it happened now of all times. Your little slip is enough to push him those last few steps and when he gets to the cabin, he brushes the datapad on the side and tries to push the buttons, his patience wearing out in an instance when he notices that it was frozen over. Without bothering to find a solution to the problem, Wrecker punches the keypad twice, breaking it into pieces in an instant. He hears the sound of the metal door unlocking and he apologizes as he sets you down on your feet so he can try to slide the door open. It takes him seconds to make enough space for the two of you to enter and he pushes you through quickly before following along, immediately closing the door behind him and turning around to look for any covers.
He sees you huddled on the ground and reaches for you right away, holding you up in his arms again as he walks around to find a place to lay you down. He notices a fireplace and wonders briefly where the owners of this house were, but he doesn’t dwell too long on that thought, prioritizing your safety over propriety. When he finds a small bed against one of the walls, he sets you down near the fireplace and moves quickly to pull the mattress from the bed, knowing that you’ll need to be as warm as possible to survive the night. He brings it near the fireplace and carries you again, setting you down on it softly before looking around to see how he can start the fire.
“O-over th…there,” you point at the lighter on the ground near the hole in the wall and Wrecker grabs it immediately, thanking the maker that the two of you were somewhat lucky in finding this home. He sees some wood on the grate and quietly whispers his gratitude to the universe for offering him a break, and for leaving him the tools that may just keep you alive through the night. Setting aside his weapons, Wrecker takes the lighter and collects as many things lying around as he can, throwing them over the wood to get it to start burning quicker. He glances back at you and feels his heart clench tightly at the sight of your shivering form.
Within a matter of minutes, he has the fire going, its heat reaching you enough without setting the worn-down mattress on fire. He looks for anything to cover your body with, and when he finds a bunch of sheets lying around, he brings them all over and throws them over your shuddering body. Wrecker tries his best to cocoon you beneath the sheets, but when you don’t stop shuddering, his anxiety spikes dramatically and he paces around the small space to find anything that can help him keep you warm.
“W-wreck?”
“I’m here, just- just looking for…ahhh karabast, there’s nothing here.” His anger seeps through his worries, and he can’t find a single care to pay attention to his own cold skin, wanting to ensure you are taken care of first before he worries about himself.
“C-come here, pl-please.” Your teeth click through the request, and Wrecker sighs heavily before making his way back to you, he sits down beside your body and pouts when he notices that you weren’t getting any warmer.
“I don’t know how to make you feel better. I’m trying, an’edee. I really am.” His eyes are tearing up, and if it weren’t for the fact that he clearly looked extremely in distress about you and the circumstances the both of you have found yourselves in, you would have teased him about being so sensitive, and thanked him for caring so much. But he didn’t seem like he’d enjoy that now, so you try to think through several options to see if anything could be helpful now. You’re quiet for a long time, but when you feel Wrecker reach for your shoulder and massage your skin through the multitude of sheets, you remember what one of your trainers told you about extreme climates and how minimal resources can still be useful.
“Wrecker, I- I hav-ve an id-dea.” His face lights up in an instant only to fall in a frown when he sees you begin to push away the covers from your body.
“No, you have to stay warm.” He pushes you down and shoves the covers above you again, but you shake your head and hold onto his wrists to get him to listen to you.
“Wreck, we…we need t-to sha-are body he-heat. This will…oh kriff, we’ll b-both be wah-warm.” He gives you a strange look before studying his own body, his eyes shifting down to see how he could possibly help you right now.
“But…the armor is cold. How will that help you?” His question is genuine, and you simultaneously love and hate how innocent he continues to be even now.
“You n-need to tah-take off your-r arm-or ‘nd…and clothes. S-so do I.”
The world stills as soon as Wrecker understands what you’re telling him, and he removes his hand from your shoulders, unsure of how he should go about this new predicament. He turns away from you, wiping the tears from his eyes before searching the room one last time to see if he missed anything. He feels one of your hands reach for his own from beneath the covers, but he doesn’t dare look your way, afraid of what he’ll find if he meets your gaze.
“Wrecker, s-sweetheart.”
His breath hitches in his throat at the pet name, but he continues to avoid you, knowing that he will break down immediately if he were to look into your eyes now and see how vulnerable you’re being with him.
“Let me see those eyes.” He can never deny you any request. It was something he learned to accept early on ever since you were brought on as a medic to his group. Whatever you asked of him, he would do in an instance, not wanting to give you any trouble and wishing you could see the dedication and adoration he constantly held for you.
With the utmost reluctance, Wrecker looks down at you and finds you smiling deeply at him. He hates that you’re still doing your job and trying to support him through his panic. You weren’t the one supposed to take care of him now, but the opposite.
“Tr-trust me?” You whisper the question, waiting until he nods in response before you kick the covers away and begin to take your clothes off, layer by excruciating layer. Just as you remove your gloves, Wrecker stands to his height and makes quick work of his armor. When he’s down to his long sleeve shirt and cargo pants, he pauses and looks down at you, only to find you still very much clothed.
“W-what’s wrong?” He asks while studying your muscles, hating the way you smile reassuriangly at him yet again to calm him down.
“I- I can’t se-eem to t-take off m..my clothes. Yo-you’ll have to- to he-lp me.”
In his defense, he reacted much less dramatically than he thought he would if he were to ever hear you request such a thing from him. Without meaning to, Wrecker drops the last piece of armor to the ground as soon as he registers your words, the harsh, loud sound of plastoid hitting the hard floor making you jump and frown up at him. He vaguely hears you curse beneath your breath before you shake your head and move your hands in a gesture that is meant to make him move quicker.
“A-are you sure?” Wrecker knows it’s a stupid question. He was literally about to cuddle with you, so this didn’t really matter. But he wants to make sure he understands you clearly so he doesn’t think over his actions later on and wonder if he accidentally did something that made you uncomfortable with him.
“Wreck…hu-rry up and strip s-so you ca-n he-help me.” You whine at him, shivering violently on the mattress when the sound of the wind picks up and begins to shake the house. Wrecker swallows the lump in throat before he listens to you and removes his clothes.
So busy trying to think of anything else but the feeling he will have to endure when he has you in his arms, Wrecker doesn’t notice the way your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he takes his shirt and pants off to reveal his muscular, gigantic build to you. It was no surprise that the man was big. Hell, you often relied on his size and how easy it is for him to do something as mundane as carry an entire crate of weapons by himself. But looking at him now, in nothing but a pair of tight underpants, you can help but gawk at him hungrily, your heart threatening to freeze in your ribcage at the sight of his muscles tensing and flexing with each small movement he makes. His gorgeous skin is littered with scars, ones you wish you could spend your time healing so he doesn’t feel any more pain from them. But perhaps the worst of it all, you realize you don’t really want to fix any of them because they made him so perfect, so special and unique to you.
It’s what made you favor him out of the others.
The fact that he was hurt so many times and still kept that optimistic, humorous side of him shining brighter than the trauma and pain he’s dealt with throughout his entire life. You had it bad for him from the beginning, from the first time he joked about your height and how you couldn’t possibly be a medic because of how cute you looked.
Kriff, you didn’t think this through.
You were about to feel him wrap his entire body around you and you would have to sit there and deal with the impure thoughts and your own body’s reactions to being so close to him. You would have to keep yourself in check through an entire night of having skin-to-skin contact with the one man in this universe that you longed to feel more intimately. Everywhere.
“Hey, you okay?” Wrecker’s gruff voice snaps you out of your haze and you nod frantically at him before motioning for him to come and help you with your clothes. When he kneels down beside you, you do your best to avoid eye-fucking him any further, a task that becomes difficult with each second he spends kneeling beside you and giving you a perfect view of his thick thighs and muscular arms, and those kriffing tight underpants that leave nothing to the imagination.
You shift your attention to his fingers as they undo the fastenings on your clothes, and you think that his hands might be shaking as he begins to remove your outer robes but you brush the thought aside. No, it couldn’t be. He was probably just nervous for you, maybe even cold now that he was nearly naked, nothing more. He definitely didn’t share your feelings.
As he begins to reveal your skin to the harsh, cold air, your teeth tap against each other more violently, making him whisper the softest of apologies to you each time he removes a layer from your shivering body. It’s only when he has you down in nothing but a shirt and the thermal leggings you wore beneath your cargo pants that he stops touching you and removes his hands from your body.
“W-what’s the matt-tter?” You ask hesitantly, afraid he was seeing something that you weren’t aware of.
“I uhh, I wanted to ask if you’re sure about this. Before I- before I take off any more of your clothes.” If you weren’t near hypothermia, you would have told him that he was such an adorable gentleman for wanting to receive consent from you one last time. But with each second that passes and you shudder in your own skin, your patience thins out. So you do the only thing you know will get him to see how much you need him.
You beg.
“Please…Wrecker, I- I need you. N-need your war-rmth, need to f-feel you ag-ainst me.” You reach out for his hands and bring them to your shirt once more, barely holding back from sobbing when you see his expression shift instantly to one of-
Well, you weren’t actually sure of the look he was giving you now.
It doesn’t matter, however, because Wrecker jumps into action right away, dragging the edge of your shirt above your arms and throwing it aside before getting to work on your pants. You clench your thighs when you hear the sound of the zipper coming undone, but remember that you don’t want to make him uncomfortable by how unholy your thoughts were.
Little did you know that as Wrecker pulled down your pants and chucked them aside, he was having similar thoughts as you. With each bit of skin he revealed to his gaze, he had to think of anything other than how soft you’d feel against his skin. He can feel his cock harden in his underpants, and the last thing he wanted was to make this night worse by looking like a creep who just wanted to take advantage of a wounded woman in his arms. Wrecker bites into his cheek to focus on anything but how pretty you looked. It’s only when he hears you whine his name again that he snaps out of his haze and looks down at you.
Fuck.
He should have been more careful when he tugged the shirt above your head.
“Uhhh is- is that supposed to be this loose?” Wrecker points at the chest band slowly unraveling from around your breasts and he turns away immediately when you look down and see what he’s referring to.
“For k-kriff’s sake Wreck, I- I’m about to d-die and you…you’re wor-rried about my b-boobs?” He has every right to be embarrassed. He knows that. You know that. The stupid winds outside know that. But unfortunately for him, you often cracked jokes when you also felt embarrassed, and this situation was definitely the worst moment in your life.
Never in your life did you think Wrecker would take your clothes of so you can stay alive and not to fuck your brains out.
Thankfully, the house creaking and shaking brings the two of you back to reality and Wrecker looks down at your body once more, quietly studying you for a moment before growling something beneath his breath as he moves beside you. He makes sure that he’s on your right side and not your left so you can have access to the fireplace, and you nearly cry from how thoughtful he’s being. But then you feel his skin slide against your own and your flesh erupts in goosebumps, ones that you know Wrecker will notice and wonder why they weren’t present before. He slips beside you and puts his arm out, shutting his eyes in pain when you immediately turn in his arms and cuddle your whole body into his side. He can feel your hair tickle his inner arm and he smiles to himself for a moment, pretending that you were currently laying nearly on top of him because you wanted to and not because you had to.
Then you bring your whole lower body against him and slip your leg in between his thighs and he almost jumps out of the bed and away towards the fire.
“Ah karabast, you’re so cold!!” He yells dramatically, looking down at you and regretting his comment when he sees the guilty look that overtakes your pretty features. You remove your hand from him and begin to turn away, but he is much quicker than you, grasping your wrist and bringing you back against his chest until you’ve settled down again.
“I’m sorry an’edee, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His apology is too sweet to your ears, and you brush it aside to keep a hold on yourself. Wrecker mistakes your avoidance for discomfort and he feels bad for being stuck with you. He may have only had one eye but he wasn’t blind to your reactions, or those of the women the batch often came in contact with.
Everyone loved Hunter, it was hard not to. His brother was arguably the best looking, and even Crosshair got more attention back during the war. Women tended to like the bad-body aura they both exuded. But him…no, he rarely received a second glance. People would complain either about his size or how childish he was. They were never interested in him.
And he hated that this wasn’t any different now. Wrecker pouts as he slowly wraps the arm you’re resting your cheek on around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his chest so you don’t see the sad look he is sure he is sporting now. He quickly pulls the covers above the two of you, tucking you in to the best of his abilities before looking up at the ceiling to avoid any eye contact with you.
You’re still shaking in his arms, but as time goes by, Wrecker feels you relax in his arms and grow warmer. Before the end of the hour, your feet and legs are nowhere near as cold as they were when he came into bed with you. He thanks the maker that your plan worked, and although he’s a little cold himself, he thinks nothing of it and checks on you every once in a while, sneaking a few glances at you to see if you’re still awake.
“Maker, I thought I’d never feel my toes again.” You break the silence all of a sudden, making Wrecker look down at you and smile when he feels you wiggle your feet against his calves. Even now he’s much taller than you, and you have to tilt your head back farther than normal to get a proper look at him.
“Thank you Wreck, you saved my life.” You smile at him, nuzzling into his biceps when he returns the expression and taps your shoulder twice to let you know that he didn’t mind.
“It was nothing, mesh’la. I’m just glad you’re still alive and breathing.” There it goes again, the slip of the tongue he always experienced when you looked at him with those beautiful, innocent eyes of yours.
“What do those words mean?” You don’t realize you’re drawing random patterns on his chest until you ask him the question and he completely misses it, his focus never wavering away from your fingers or his chest.
“Huh?”
“I’m assuming they’re Mando’a, but I don’t know what they mean.” At the mention of his native language, Wrecker’s eyes widen in horror and he turns away from you, choosing to stare at the opposite wall as if it was much more interesting than the conversation now.
“It’s uhhh, it’s nothing. Don’t- don’t worry about it.” Wrecker attempts to distract you, but you’re determined to know what they mean. Something about the way his tone of voice turns gentler when he says those words makes you think that they’re special nicknames, perhaps even ones that a lover would call his significant other to convey how much they care.
“If you’re calling me something bad, I swear I won’t talk to you anymore.” You mean to joke with him, tease him a little to get him to tell you what those words mean. But Wrecker takes your response to heart, and he meets your gaze suddenly, his eyes swimming with an anxiety that rivaled his worries for you hours ago. He squeezes your shoulder tightly, and you know he isn’t aware of what he’s doing because he turns fully in your arms and makes sure you’re staring right at him before he replies.
“I would never call you something bad. You have to know that! I- I just…I can’t tell you what they mean.” His voice is filled with panic, and you feel bad for teasing him too much. Before he can throw himself in a frenzy again, you reach out and cup his cheek softly, rubbing the corner of his lips with your thumb to soothe his worries away.
“I was only kidding Wrecker, I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never say anything bad about me, I was just joking.” You enunciate every syllable, wanting to make sure he fully accepts that you were only messing around with him and don’t actually believe he’d say something rude to you.
“You promise?”
“Yeah, yeah I promise.”
You look into his eyes for what feels like hours, and as you lean into his space, eyes searching his own for any hesitation to how close you’re moving into him, a loud cackling sound emits from the fireplace and scares the two of you. Wrecker goes into protective mode instantly, pulling you harder into his chest and wrapping his other arm around your back to keep you safe. He doesn’t mean to be aggressive in the way he handles you, but when he takes hold of the back of your neck and shoves you into the space between his shoulder and his neck, you gasp at how easy it is for him to take control of you, how natural it felt to touch him so intimately and have him grab you with such intensity. Instead of reassuring him that you’re fine, you give in to the moment and wrap your arm around his waist, not bothering to get it around his whole back and instead choosing to roam your hand over the muscles contracting and flexing beneath his skin. He remains still for a while, and you smile when you realize it’s probably because he wants to make sure that the fire wasn’t about to spill out and burn the whole place down.
Taking in a deep breath, you rub your thighs together when the scent of his musk, mixed with whatever soap he uses to wash himself, hits your senses, nearly driving you into a lust filled haze because of how spicy and sweet his smell is to your desperate senses. You’re about to stick your tongue out and lick across his jugular when Wrecker pulls you back and rests you on the mattress again. He’s still eyeing the fireplace, but when he looks down and meets your eyes, his nervousness comes crashing down with a force of a thousand battle droids. He stops breathing immediately, taking in the sight of your dilated pupils and parted lips, and wishing you were reacting this way because he held you in his arms and not because you were afraid of the fire cackling behind you.
His eyes move to your lips for a split second, but he remembers his plan of not being creepy with you and decides to lay back down again. You clear your throat and rest your cheek on his chest once more, avoiding any and all eye contact with him so you don’t accidentally do something that crosses the boundaries between the two of you and makes him regret every helping you out.
“Get some rest, an-” he stops himself before he says the rest of the pet name, shaking his head before turning his attention to the ceiling again. “Get some rest, doc.”
“Good night, Wreck.” You whisper against his skin, accidentally grazing your lips against his pectorals and sending a fresh wave of arousal down his spine, one that shoots straight to his cock and hardens him in a matter of seconds. He thanks the heavens that he isn’t spooning you now, knowing that you would probably feel his hard-on if you were in a more compromising position than the one you chose.
“Hmm.” Wrecker doesn’t dare try to speak again, knowing that if he were to attempt and form a longer response, he’d either give in and confess his feelings, or throw all caution aside and show you what he’s been thinking of doing to you ever since he met you.
He shuts his eyes to get some rest, but as the night goes on, and the wind doesn’t stop howling outside, Wrecker barely manages to sleep. Even worse, each breath you take sends a shiver down his spine, and he looks at you every once in a while, unable to hold himself back from enjoying the close proximity to you. He can feel your skin growing warmer as time goes by, and he thanks the Force for allowing him to be the one helping you.
Then his eyes trail down and see the top of your breasts and the smile drops from his face. Wrecker swallows the lump in his throat, and he unintentionally squeezes your shoulder tightly to bring you closer to him. The action makes you groan, and Wrecker fears that he’s woken you. He stops breathing, afraid that the slightest motion of his chest rising and falling will wake you up. A few minutes pass by and when he’s sure you’re still asleep, he forces his muscles to relax, only for his entire body to go rigid again as soon as you let go of him and roll on your back.
His eyes widen in horror when he notices the band around your chest sliding down your breasts and revealing more of your soft skin to him. Wrecker turns away immediately, not wanting to take advantage of the trust you clearly had in him. He slams his hand over his eyes, silently wishing for a miracle to happen so his mind doesn’t go insane. He has you so close to him, touching him where he dreamt for so long, but you were still out of reach.
The sudden movement of your whole body makes him panic and he looks down in time to see you turn around and face the fire. You nearly topple from the mattress towards the source of heat, but Wrecker quickly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from accidentally burning yourself. You stop moving for a moment, and he sighs in relief, wondering to himself how you managed to stay alive all this time when you were so clumsy. He tries to slide his arm away from your stomach but your hand is immediately on him, pulling him back against you. Wrecker grumbles to himself, tugging his arm a little harshly so this night remains in tact, more or less, but you’re even more aggressive in your sleep, and without caring for the strain you’re putting on the man behind you, you grab his arm and pull it hard, sending his entire body crashing into your back and engulfing you in his heat.
Wrecker can’t believe what’s happening to him, and he sits up on his elbow to see if you were awake and just playing a joke on him. But as he suspected, you’re fast asleep, snoring lightly and enjoying the heat you were receiving from all sides. He looks around to see if there’s anything he can place between your backside and his crotch, knowing that the longer he remains this close to you, the more his body will react to your proximity without thinking much of the consequences. He lays back down and puts as much space between your bodies as he can, and it works for a while too. Wrecker is on high alert now, knowing he won’t get an ounce of sleep out of fear of doing something to you while he’s unconscious.
The loud thundering of the snowstorm makes you jolt in his arms, and he’s about to check on you to make sure you’re alright when you scoot closer to him, until there isn’t an inch between your back and his front. Wrecker frowns, slamming his head down on the pillow and willing himself to think of anything but how perfect and warm and soft you feel in his arms. To make matters worse, you hug his arm and bring it to your face, nuzzling into his wrist as sleep continues to overtake your mind and torture the poor soul trying to keep you alive. Wrecker can almost feel the rise and fall of your breasts with each breath you take, and he shivers when your breath roams over the sensitive skin of his wrist every couple of seconds. You’ve completely taken over his mind and body, and you weren’t even aware.
“Kriff,” he whispers to himself, regretting ever coming on this mission with you. Before tonight, he had to conjure up dreams of having you the way he always wanted to. But after this night, he’d have to live on as if he didn’t know exactly how you felt in his arms, how sweet you smelled to him, how easy it would have been to tease you until you’re awake before begging you to touch him the way he wished. He’d have to pretend that tonight didn’t mean the world to him.
The nostalgia that hits him is unbearable, and it’s enough to calm his body, as if the thoughts of the future built a wall between him and you, one that was convincing enough to have him not react so viscerally to you.
Wrecker shuts his eyes, surrendering himself to the floral scent of your hair and allowing your warmth to finally lull him to sleep.
It’s hours later, but too soon for him, when he finally jolts awake from the best sleep he’s ever gotten in his life. A quick glance outside lets Wrecker know that it may be the morning but the storm was very much still roaring outside. He looks behind him to see if he’s received any coms from Hunter, and when he doesn’t see any flashing lights signaling a message from him, he rests back down and yawns tiredly, shutting his eyes once more to try and steal some rest again.
A soft moan fills the silent room, and although it is barely audible, it sounds like an alarm to Wrecker’s ears. He’s wide awake in an instant, his mind trying to understand whatever sound just emitted from you, and when he decides that it may have been a figment of his imagination, you roll your ass against him and push your lips into his wrist, groaning into the damp skin too lewdly for the man behind you to ignore.
Wrecker freezes, his muscles tensing painfully beneath his taut skin as soon as he feels you grind into him harder. For a brief moment, he thinks this may just all be a dream, a beautiful, unadulterated sensation his mind was conjuring up in his sleep because of the proximity he held with you. But then your tongue sweeps over the pulse point on his wrist and Wrecker knows he’s wide awake.
He’s wide awake, and you are touching him as if he belonged to you.
As if you belonged to him.
The hand on your hip squeezes you, sending a jolt of hot energy down your spine and making you push your body into Wrecker’s front even more.
“Kriff,” he swears beneath his breath, shutting his eyes and surrendering to the pleasure for a second.
But the second becomes two…then three…then four.
And before he knows it, Wrecker is rolling his clothed, hard cock into the curve of your ass, biting into his cheek to silence himself from spilling compliments of how perfect you feel against him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows this is wrong, that he shouldn’t be taking advantage of your unconscious form as you unintentionally used him to please yourself. Wrecker knows, more than anything, that he should remove himself from you and wake you up so things don’t become awkward between the two of you.
But you feel so kriffing good against him, and he’s only dreamt of having you like this for hundreds of rotations.
“Hmm, please….W-wreck, I need more.”
The whispered words are all he needs to snap out of the haze you’ve thrown him into, and without meaning to, Wrecker pushes up on his elbows and questions what you just said rather loudly.
“What was that?”
The sound of his gruff, booming voice wakes you in an instant, and you sit up quickly, immediately grabbing for the nearest object you can find to defend yourself from whatever is happening. You look around confusingly, adjusting your eyes to the reddened darkness around you. When you realize nothing is trying to kill you, you turn around and look at Wrecker to ask him why he nearly made you deaf.
All questions roaming around your mind evaporate into thin air when you look him over and take in the disheveled state he’s in. His skin is glistening with sweat, and you wonder briefly if it is because he runs hot in general or if this was because of how close you were to him for the past few hours. You blink the sleep from your eyes as you study him further, and before you can remind yourself that you shouldn’t be ogling him so openly, your attention shifts south and you notice a prominent tent in his underpants, one that sends your heart fluttering wildly in a matter of seconds.
Maker, you knew the man must have been proportional, but nothing could have prepared you for how blessed he is.
The thought of touching him, feeling him beneath the palm of your hands as you made him whimper your name in ecstasy, instantly reminds you of what you were dreaming. You feel your face flush with heat as you recall the filthy images your mind conjured up while you were asleep. You knew being in his arms would probably throw you into a horny frenzy, but you didn’t think it would be so instantaneous, so vivid. You could almost feel his cock push against your pulsing core, and you clench your thighs together to alleviate the pressure building inside you. It’s only when you hear Wrecker clear his throat that you remind yourself to keep it together. The last thing you want is to give him any inclination of what you were dreaming of, and you knew for a fact there would be no escaping the awkwardness any time soon, not until the rest of the Batch rescued you.
“Umm, you- you should fix your-” Wrecker doesn’t finish the sentence, and you blink at him for a few seconds, wondering what he could possibly be going on about. You follow where he’s pointing, and nearly fall backwards in horror when you look down and see the chest binding no longer covering your breasts. You cross your arms around your chest instantly, all the while trying to figure out how to fix the band without giving Wrecker an eyeful of your skin.
“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look.” Wrecker breaks through the frantic movement, and you look up to see if he was being genuine or teasing. You can tell immediately how apologetic he is from the way he’s staring down at the sheets beneath you, and the pout he was unintentionally seducing you with.
“It’s okay, it’s not like you tugged on them or anything.” You try to diffuse the tension with a chuckle, but Wrecker continues to avoid you, his frown only deepening the longer you try to fix the binding.
“Wrecker, is everything okay?” You give up on covering yourself, and instead drag the sheets from around you, wrapping them haphazardly around your shoulders to hide the effects your body is undergoing from being so close to Wrecker.
“I’m sorry an’edee,” if you didn’t know better, you’d think Wrecker was apologizing for the predicament you found yourselves in. But from the way he was avoiding your gaze, and how tense his muscles remained even now, you know there’s something else on his mind.
“For what?”
“I touched you…while you were sleeping. I- I didn’t mean to, I swear. It’s just…you felt so good, so warm and…perfect. I tried to stop, believe me I did…but you kept moving against me and teasing me with those sweet sounds, and I nearly lost it. Then you moaned my name and told me you wanted more and I-...I just wanted to feel you.” Wrecker looks up for a second, and when he sees the way your eyes are glazed over in shock, perhaps even disgust, he turns his sight away and hunches over to make himself appear smaller so you don’t think he’ll try anything with you.
It’s quiet for longer than he likes, but Wrecker swears he won’t try to make any more excuses, especially since it wasn’t really your fault that you were touching him so intimately in your sleep. It didn’t take a genius to know that no one is ever truly in control of their dreams, so he couldn’t fault you for what you were doing.
He was the one who was awake. He had full control of himself and you.
And he chose to betray your trust.
Regret and turmoil roll off of him in violent waves, making you wish you were brave enough to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. You aren’t sure what exactly he did while you were sleeping, but you know that he didn’t cross any lines you’d consider awfully inappropriate. As far as you were concerned, his underpants were still on, and so were yours. He even apologized for looking at your chest while trying to warn you about your binding. There was no way he wouldn’t tell you if he did something more.
You trusted him that much.
A hundred responses brush through your mind, but you know he won’t feel better until he’s made aware of the reason behind your own behavior. There was no way out of this that wouldn’t be awkward for you, or him, or worse…both of you.
“It’s not your fault, Wrecker.”
“I was awake, and you were sleeping. It is my fault.” He furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at you, only for his body to relax completely when he sees you biting your lower lip and slowly letting go of the sheets around you. He glances to the side to give you some bit of privacy, swallowing the lump in his throat when you shift around until you’re kneeling in front of him, completely nude except for the fabric covering your lower half. He can almost see your skin from his periphery, but he keeps his gaze away from you, afraid of how he’d react if he were to look upon you again.
“But…I was the one dreaming of you Wreck. I- I was the one moaning your name to try and get you to fuck me harder in my dream.” The words fall from your lips easily, and you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders as soon as Wrecker slowly turns to look at you, disbelief and hope etched on his beautiful features as his mind registers what you just confessed to him.
“I was the one begging you to make me cum…gods, I needed it so badly Wrecker, and I could feel you bringing me close to that sweet pleasure. I was so close, but then you woke me.” You hope you aren’t making a mistake by revealing to him your heart’s desires, mostly because you’re not sure what you would do if he turned you down now.
Like everything else, it takes a second for Wrecker to react, but he doesn’t respond the way you think he would. He looks in between your eyes as he slowly reaches for your hands. You look down to see what he’ll do, and nearly feel your heart leap out of your chest when he brings both of your palms to his cheeks and shuts his eyes.
“I didn’t think you wanted me…not- not in the way I wanted you.” For a man who always had a lot to say, you’re surprised he responds with such a simple confession of his own and not something more dramatic.
“How could I not want you? You’re amazing.” You don’t hesitate, not in your words, nor in the way you move closer to him until you’re straddling his thighs. Wrecker’s breath hitches, and you smirk at him as you throw your arms over his broad shoulders and kiss the corner of his mouth.
His arms are around you soon after, nearly crushing you with the weight and strength of them as they wrap tightly around you and bring you flush against him. You feel your nipples harden as the hair across Wrecker’s chest slides against your breasts, and before you can say anything else, Wrecker smashes his lips with your own, swallowing your surprised moans as he shoves his tongue in your mouth and finally tastes you.
You’re shocked by how forward he suddenly becomes, but you don’t dare question the spike of confidence coursing through his veins, knowing that he might turn shy again if he so much as smells reluctance on you. Giving into his possessive touches, you part your lips and let him have full control of every inch of you. The passion he offers you is overwhelming, but you don’t dare ask him to calm down, the need to feel him overpowering you and taking everything he wants from you outgrowing any thoughts you had regarding your safety.
Wrecker can’t believe you’re in his lap, grinding down on him as you allow him to kiss you just as he dreamt he would if he ever had you naked and willing in his arms. He breaks the kiss to allow the two of you to breathe, but as he’s about to lunge for you again, his eyes roam down your body and watch as a bead of sweat rolls down your neck, to your sternum, until it slows down in between your heaving breasts. He forgets how to breathe for a moment, the sight of your hardened nipples awakening something deep inside him, something that whispers for him to bite and lick across your chest until you’re screaming his name.
Without a warning, Wrecker leans down and licks across your breast before taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting on the sensitive peak until he feels your nails rake across his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms. He growls at your touch, grazing his teeth over your flushed skin until you’re moaning his name again.
“Oh my maker, W-wreck…your mouth feels so good.” You throw your head back, giving Wrecker more access to your skin so he can mark it as he likes. Wrecker doesn’t waste a second, leaving marks with his teeth and hands over every inch he can reach, and before you know it, he’s laying you down and settling in between your thighs. You grab the sheets beneath you in an attempt to hold onto whatever sanity is still left in you, but as Wrecker drags his calloused palms down your body and over your thighs, you can’t help but think of how he’d feel when he finally takes you.
“Wreck…I need you. Need you to fuck me, please.” You open your eyes far enough to look down and watch as Wrecker digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs and stomach, waiting until visible marks appear on your skin before he moves to another part of you that isn’t bearing his mark just yet. He looks up and meets your eyes for a second, and you think he’s finally going to put you out of your misery and take what he wants.
But he doesn’t move a muscle, waiting until he has your undivided attention before he speaks again.
“I need to get you ready for me an’edee…then I’ll give you what you want.” The words fall from his lips like sin, and if your mind wasn’t completely engrossed in the sensations Wrecker was bringing to your body, you would have asked him where he learned to talk like that.
And you’re about to inquire after that too, but you feel his fingers slip beneath your panties and slowly tug them down, and you cease to breathe, watching closely as Wrecker doesn’t break eye contact while rolling the article of clothing down your legs before discarding them behind him. Neither of you say anything for what feels like forever, but as soon as Wrecker begins to lean down, you reach for his chin and hold it in the palm of your hand.
“Wait.”
“You- you don’t want me to-”
“It’s not that.” You cut him off before he thinks you’re having any doubting thoughts of what the two of you are doing.
Wrecker stares at you with nothing but confusion, and you hate how such a simple, boyish expression can bring you to your knees if you weren’t already on your back.
“I want to taste you too.” You bite into your lower lip in an attempt to hide the embarrassing admission. If Wrecker is surprised by what you just said, he doesn’t say anything, instead sitting back up and grabbing your legs so he could roll you on top of him. You squeal in shock at the sudden movement, but say nothing as he lays down where you were a second ago, with you straddling his hips.
“Wrecker?”
“Turn around for me an’edee.” He orders with a glint of mischief in his eyes, making you look down at him with furrowed eyebrows. You’re not sure what he’s planning, and Wrecker sits up on his elbows to get a better look at you.
“You said you wanted to taste me, and I won’t give up what I had in mind either. So, turn around for me.” He states again, as if the brief description was all you needed to understand what he wants from you. It’s only when he tilts his head to the side as he slowly brings the palm of his hand in between your thighs do you finally catch on to what he’s thinking. Your eyes widen in horror at the position Wrecker wants you to get into, mostly because you never thought he’d be the type of person to be so open with what he’d like to try, let alone have you so bare and exposed to him. The man was always particularly shy around you, something you noticed early on when he’d hesitate before chatting up with you. You never thought he would be so forward now, especially since this was new terrain for the both of you.
“You mean you…you want me to- you know,” you point at his face and support your weight on his chest when he pushes you up with his hips to get you to move more quickly.
“Sit on my face baby, let me get you nice and wet for me.” Wrecker growls the order one last time, smiling wickedly at you when you swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to move atop him. He waits patiently for you to turn around and straddle his waist again but facing away from him. As much as he wants to grab your ass and pull you on his face, he waits until you get comfortable with the new position before he slides his fingers down your back to the top of your glutes.
It’s too soon for you, but not nearly soon enough for Wrecker, when you finally reach down and lay your hands over his thighs. The tent on his underpants is more painfully prominent at this point, and you feel bad for dragging out this moment this much.
Wrecker massages your skin, and when he’s sure you won’t jump away from his touch, he slowly pulls your body towards him until your thighs perfectly frame his face.
Whatever he pictured in his mind comes nowhere near what he is gazing upon now, and he forces himself to reel back the comments threatening to flow from his mouth so he doesn’t end up scaring you with how much he wants you. It’s when he takes a long whiff of your scent that he finally registers your small fingers tracing the length of him through the fabric keeping him from your eyes. He groans your name with a low whisper, equal parts turned on by nearly tasting you on his tongue and the sensation you were currently bringing upon him.
“Please baby,” you’re not sure if he’s begging you to take him in your mouth or asking you to bring yourself closer to him so he can taste you, but you don’t find it in yourself to care, not when you finally had Wrecker so enthusiastic and excited beneath you, ready to cause havoc on your willing body. Without wasting another second, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band of the edge of his briefs and push them as far down as he allows you to, aggressively tugging on the sides as well until the material is around his thighs and away from where you’re dying to have him.
“Oh fuck me!”
Like earlier, you are perfectly aware that Wrecker must have been packing a dangerous weapon. No man his size wouldn’t be, especially with how confidently he carried himself all the time. But nothing would have prepared you for the sheer girth and length of him. Slowly bringing your hands to his cock, you chuckle to yourself when you realize you can’t even wrap your fingers around the whole of him, the laugh turning into a long sigh as you notice just how much he was going to stretch you, how deep he was going to claim you when he finally fucks you like you dreamt.
“That’s the plan sweetheart!” Wrecker mumbles from in between your thighs, his breath sending a fresh wave of arousal across your body and making you wish he was already fucking you within an inch of your life. You’re about to retort in kind when you feel his tongue swipe across your folds, the rough muscle sending spikes of heat up your spine and making you fall unceremoniously into his dick. You let out a sigh of relief, mumbling incoherently when Wrecker chuckles, presumably with pride, at the effect he was having on you just by the mere touch of his tongue against your engorged clit. He pulls away for a brief second, commanding you to take him in your mouth before going back to it again and slowly fucking you with his tongue
“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock, an’edee.” He barely enunciates before he’s diving into your cunt again, ripping a guttural cry of pleasure from your throat, one that makes you realize he needn’t do much to have you at his will. With as much confidence as your body can muster up, you lean over and purse your lips until enough saliva collects on your tongue. Parting them slightly, you watch as your drool stretches from your mouth to the head of his cock, coating the angry tip of his dick before sliding down his length. It must be a surprise to Wrecker because he unintentionally bucks his hips into the air, sending his cock just a little closer to your mouth. Taking advantage of his momentarily distracted mind, you lean down and open your lips as wide as possible, barely managing to engulf them around him.
Wrecker growls his pleasure, throwing his head back for a second before returning his assault on your pussy with blind determination. You nearly forget you’re meant to be pleasuring him as well when you feel his teeth graze your clit, and as he starts sucking on the bundle of nerves violently, you can’t help but whine around his cock. The sound is music to his ears, and he widens his legs even more before bending his knees and resting his feet flat against the beat-up mattress. His stance scares you briefly, but you realize that he isn’t moving his hips or trying to push his cock deeper, his self-awareness somehow making you wish he would take advantage of the control he has on you and fuck your face until you choke around him.
The thought doesn’t leave your mind as you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, and you stretch your palms to try and wrap them around him, hoping that you can pleasure the length of him without your mouth. His chest shakes beneath your stomach, and you don’t realize you’re rolling your hips on his tongue until Wrecker whispers how good you taste and how perfect you’re being for him.
You want him to feel equally satiated, and as you lower one of your hands to cup his balls, Wrecker forgets he’s meant to be controlling his touches and thrusts up into your mouth, sending more drool down your chin and onto his cock with how far back he managed to reached. He knows what he’s done immediately, and he pulls you off of him, resting his hips back down so he’s far away from your mouth.
“Fuck, I- I’m so sorry love. You just s-surprised me and- I didn’t mean it. I swear I would never try to-”
“Wreck…” The sound of his name falling sinfully from your lips manages to shut him up quickly, and he waits until you break the silence so he doesn’t misunderstand your moans.
“I want you to fuck my face!” You claim with determination, nearly laughing at the way Wrecker curses beneath his breath from the sudden outburst.
“What? It’s not…I don’t want to hurt you baby.”
“You won’t hurt me Wreck. I promise. I just really really want you to fuck my face…want you to use me for your pleasure…I want to feel you down my throat baby, so far down that when you come, I can barely taste you from how wide you’re stretch my mouth.” Wrecker could choke on air if he wasn’t already holding his breath and listening to every word intently. He can’t believe his ears, mostly because you were never one to be so bold and forward, let along unwise in your choices.
“But…you’ll get hurt.”
“Hmm, okay h-how about this? Let’s have a safeword, yeah?”
“A safeword?” You can feel his breath on your wet cunt, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were trying to meet his concerns with a solution, you would have pushed your ass back down and rode him until you came on his tongue.
“Yeah, a safeword. Or in this case, a gesture that equals a safeword. Since my mouth will be full of your cock, I won’t be able to speak. But if I tap your thighs three times, you pull out and let me breathe. Same goes to you of course. If I’m suffocating you or anything, you tap three times on…on-” You’re trying your hardest to keep your thoughts from going astray, but with each moment you waste, you can’t help but regret how good his dick would feel marking your throat.
“Your ass?” You know the question is genuine, but you can’t help but laugh when it comes off a little more enthusiastic than he would like.
“S-sure. Tap three times on my ass and I’ll get off.”
“Oh you’ll be getting off alright…on my tongue, with my fingers stretching your pretty little pussy so I can fuck you like you want.” You should have known that Wrecker would make jokes now of all times, but you clear your throat and pinch his thigh to get him back on track.
“Focus big boy…now, and only because I don’t think I’ll have the mind capacity to think of one later, the safeword will be ‘grenade.’ Does that sound good?” You ask one last time, hoping he could answer you soon so you can get back to tasting him.
“My kinda girl.” He laughs loudly before smacking your ass once, and just as you’re about to complain over the sudden action, Wrecker wraps both of his arms over your lower back and brings you down to his mouth again, not bothering to let up as he goes back to worshiping your cunt.
“Oh ffff-fuck,” you scream when he wraps his lips over your clit and sucks as hard as possible while teasing your clit with his tongue. So invested in the sensations he was pushing over your body, you don’t realize he’s moving one of his arms until you feel it reach for your neck and push it down on his cock. You make a mental note of telling him later that the simple action could have brought you to your knees if you weren’t already sitting on him. For some reason, knowing that he can reach you now, since he was so much bigger and broader and taller than you, set your inside on fire, and before you can truly think over how easily he can have his way with you whenever he wants, Wrecker pushes your cheek to the side until your lips hover over his length.
Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the onslaught Wrecker was ready to bring upon your willing form. Without thinking much of how challenging it will be to speak later, you slowly lower your mouth over his cock and stop when you think you can no longer fit him in your mouth. Proving to be a rather impressive multi-tasker, Wrecker begins to pass his tongue back and forth against your wet folds while bringing his hand to the back of your head. It’s the only warning you get before he shoves his hips up into you while pushing on your head. You can already feel the oxygen refusing to enter your system soon after, and you shut your eyes to calm yourself so you don’t freak him out.
And just as you asked, Wrecker doesn’t hold back, immediately setting a pace that has you tearing up and choking on his dick in record time. You wrap your hands around the base of his cock, massaging his balls and pumping the rest of his length that will never feel the heat of your mouth. You’re making a complete mess of his crotch, but it seems that Wrecker rather enjoys it, only fucking your mouth harder when he begins to hear your noises increasing in sound. He doesn’t let up on you once though, keeping you against him while moving the arm your back so he can touch you better.
You don’t expect what he does next, but as you feel his thumb circle the ring of muscle just above your cunt, you accidentally close your mouth over him, your teeth grazing the length of him ever so slightly, but hard enough to the point where Wrecker has to let go of your head to grab onto your ass. You pull off of him instantly, afraid that you’d hurt and he was about to tap out. But when his ministrations increase, and his thumb teases you even more, you decide to repay in kindness and get back to it. Kissing the tip of his cock, you lick the veins stretching up and down his length until you can catch your breath, and when you think you are ready again, you blindly reach for his hand, silently asking him to return it to your head again.
“Are you sure?” He mumbles the question, and you moan his name once reassuringly, the only answer he requires to do as he is told. Waiting until he feels your mouth on him again, Wrecker wraps his hand over the back of your neck and pushes you down again, all the while shoving his cock with shallow thrusts into your mouth. He doesn’t go nearly as deep as earlier, but he does quicken his pace, and you realize it may be because he is desperate to finally come. You will yourself to relax your throat, not wanting to interrupt him again as he chases his orgasm.
Wrecker is as promising in his touches as you are, and when he feels the knot in his stomach begin to unravel, he removes his fingers from your ass and sloppily collects the juices on his face before bringing two of his fingers against your entrance. As soon as he pushes his digits into your cunt, he feels your entire body melt against him completely. He smiles to himself as he matches the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of your tight pussy with the rhythm his cock slid across your heated throat. He continues for what feels like hours to you, until he knows he has you tethering between pain and pleasure. The harder you pump his length, the hotter Wrecker feels, and before he knows it, he’s adding another finger into your cunt, not caring for how abused your folds look as he shoves his thick digits far enough until you’re keeping the length of them in your sweet hole.
He times the halt with the assault he’s bringing onto your mouth, shoving your head down and refusing to move his hips so he can relish in the way your throat constricts and clenches around his dick.
Wrecker knows this must be what being suspended into thin air feels like, so blissful and hot and absolutely kriffing perfect.
He refuses to push you any harder though, letting go of your head and lowering his hips down until the only thing your mouth kisses is the crown of his length. Before you can question him though, he spreads your ass cheeks apart and lunges for your clit, roughly passing his tongue back and forth on it while he continues to fuck you with his fingers. The sudden assault must be a surprise to you because Wrecker feels your hands squeeze him tightly, and before he knows it, he’s pushing his cock just a little deeper into your mouth, muscles vibrating with energy as he shoots his cum deep into your throat and coats your mouth with his seed. He’s twitching and growling beneath you, but he doesn’t ignore your pleasure, wanting you to come on his face along with him.
He knows what to do, and as you hum around him, silently telling him that you’re pleased with how he tastes, Wrecker drags your essence across to your asshole, circling it a few times before pushing the tip of his thumb inside you. He groans over his release, and as he curls his fingers up to massage the deepest corner he can reach inside your pussy, your whole body seizes up above him and you arch your back in ecstasy, pulling off of his cock and praying his name over and over again while he makes you cum on his face. The clone wonders briefly if you’ve actually reached climax or not, unsure of your reaction since you weren’t doing much except lay your weight on him. He doesn’t wait much until he receives an answer in the form of your whole form shaking violently above him. Wrecker shuts his eyes tightly as he laps up the juices rolling on his chin, and before he knows it, he feels a stream of liquid coat his mouth and neck, one that continues baptizing him until he stops moving his fingers. You’re still twitching above him long after he paused his ministrations, and when he tries to pull out his fingers, you dig your nails into his thighs and beg him to slow down.
“S-softly…please- oh fuck…please be g-gentle.” You whisper your requests to him, sighing in relief when he obeys your comments and slowly eases out of your weeping cunt. What shocks you instantly is how empty you feel all of a sudden. You didn’t have his cock in your mouth or his fingers in your cunt, and before you know it, your core is screaming for release once more, itching even to get filled yet again, but this time with something bigger and harder.
Opening your eyes, you look down and notice the mess you made of Wrecker’s dick when you parted your lips after he came. Not caring for how shameless you’re being, you lean down and lick his cum off of his navel, swallowing the taste of him immediately so you don’t let any of it go to waste. Wrecker is about to ask you if you’re okay when he feels the kitten licks across his skin, and before he can warn you, his cock is twitching harshly and hitting your cheeks yet again.
“F-fuck Wrecker, you’re still so hard.” He can hear the surprised smile on your features, and he chuckles embarrassingly from his refractory period. Normally, he felt proud at being ready to go in a matter of seconds, but lying beneath you now, Wrecker realizes you might think he just wants to take advantage of you. He’s about to apologize when you move off of him and roll to the side, throwing your head back and stretching your limbs to get some feeling back into them. Wrecker sits up on his elbows and studies you closely, unable to hold back from eye-fucking you when he notices how hard your nipples are, how shiny your face and chin are from the mess you were making of the both of you. He turns away when he catches you smiling at him, and he massages his lower stomach to try and get his cock to calm down a little.
You notice the shift in his demeanor almost immediately, and knowing that he was probably overthinking this whole ordeal, you will yourself to sit up and go to him. Wrecker doesn’t expect you to fall into his arms so soon, so dramatically even, and he hums in pleasure when you immediately reach to kiss his mouth. You can taste both of your cum on each other, the thought nearly sending you and Wrecker into unimaginable bliss all over again. As Wrecker relaxes back into the bed, you struggle to maneuver yourself around, but in no time, you’re straddling his hips and supporting your weight on his chest.
Wrecker looks up at you with wide-blown eyes, unsure of what it is you are trying to accomplish. He thought you would call it a night, perhaps even tell him that this felt nice but you’d need to rest before you do anything else. But like always, you surprise Wrecker with a dangerous glint to your eyes, slowly rolling your hips back and forth until his cock nestles perfectly between your wet folds.
“An’edee?”
“Please Wreck…want you to fuck me now. Fuck me hard…stretch me wide on your cock, until I can’t speak anymore.” You roam your hands across his chest, marveling at the muscles rippling and flexing beneath the palms of your hands. Wrecker grabs onto your hips instantly, stopping you from moving any further and sending him into a frenzy.
“I- I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage…or that I want to hurt you.” He says, avoiding your gaze altogether and choosing to look anywhere else but your glistening body. You’ve always been beautiful to him, but you’re even more gorgeous in his eyes now, with your sweaty skin and your bruised body that he marked with his teeth and his seed.
“What if I want you to take advantage…what if- what if I want you to hurt me?” You ask, leaning over and kissing over his chest, glancing up at him and waiting until he meets your eyes before nipping at the skin near one of his nipples. He hisses in warning, narrowing his eyes at you and praying you understand that he only means to take care of you.
“What if I want the others to know what we’ve done here tonight? Smile at them when they notice traces of your touch all over me. What if…oh maker Wrecker, what if I want to leave this planet with so much of your cum deep inside me that it leaks out of me?” You’re not sure what’s making you whisper such filthy confessions to him. All you know is, the more you reveal to him your wishes, the harder his cock twitches against you. His chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, and you raise yourself until you’re sitting high above him, with a perfect view of all his glorious skin.
When he says nothing right away, you regret ever telling him your thoughts, and slowly begin to get off of him. But Wrecker is faster than you, and he squeezes your hips tightly to prevent you from going anywhere. You know you’ll look at yourself in the mirror days from now and find imprints of his hands all over your skin, the thought of which makes you wetter than you can care to admit. You’re about to apologize when he finally puts you out of your misery and nods his consent.
Afraid that he’s only agreeing because of your need for him, you lean down and kiss his cheeks, hoping he’d understand that you don’t ever want to force him to do anything. But Wrecker sees right through you, wrapping one arm around your back to keep you as flush to him as possible while his other hand reaches down and takes hold of his cock. You feel him tease your entrance with the head of his dick, parting your lips in a silent plea to have him finally fill you to the brim. But he doesn’t give you what you want just yet, sliding his cock along your wet folds several times until he coats his length with your juices.
“Please Wreck.”
“You want me to fuck you pretty girl?”
“Y-yes, please.” You breathe against his lips, nearly tasting the salt of his sweat on your tongue as you grow closer to him.
“Hmm, you want me to train your pussy…show you how to take me?” His voice is hoarse, and you realize it may be the first time you hear him speak so softly, so sweetly to you.
“Desperately.”
“Kriff,” he hesitates for a moment, but as he looks into your eyes, and feels the wet heat of your pussy coax him into you, Wrecker decides to break the last barrier between the two of you and speak his desires freely, “you- you want me to cum inside you and fill you up until Hunter can smell me on your cunt?”
The question surprises you, mostly because you thought Wrecker would be too shy to mention something everyone seldom speaks of, something so inherently filthy that lures a fresh wave of desire from your body. You gaze at Wrecker through heavy-lidded eyes, torn between wanting him to tease you more and finally taking you how you always dreamt. You gulp nervously, leaning down and laying a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth before breathing a soft, quick plea against him.
“Please.”
Wrecker laughs at your sudden shy demeanor, wondering whether he could play with you a little bit more before he fucks you raw. It’s a difficult decision, but he makes up his mind when he pushes the head of his cock along your slit and finds you soaking for him.
“Remember your safeword an’edee,” the arm around your back holds you tightly against his heaving chest, and you lose yourself in his touch as soon as he wraps his lips around your own and gently eases himself inside you. The confidence of his words turns you on way more than it should, but you don’t dwell on that thought for too long, already finding it difficult to get used to the sheer size of him. He’s done his due diligence in preparing you for his dick, but you somehow still struggle to take him without hissing in pain.
“Fuck baby, your pussy feels so warm around my cock.” Wrecker mouths against the column of your neck, his hands clutching on your skin for dear life as he slowly continues to push his length along your tight walls.
“O-ohhhh,” you moan as you feel him throb deep inside your cunt, and Wrecker mistakes the pleasure for pain, stopping his journey in an instant and stretching his head back until he can get a better look at you.
“A-am I hurting you? Should I p-”
“No, n-no please don’t…don’t pull out Wreck, please. I just need to g-get used to you.” You cut him off before he even thinks about leaving you, and when you flutter your eyes open and meet his beautiful, mismatched ones, you can’t help smile and kiss the corner of his mouth, hoping that the sentiment distracts him long enough until the stretch of his cock sends more pleasure than discomfort down your spine.
“Mesh’la,” Wrecker warns warmly, seeing through you immediately and loosening the hold he has on your hips so you don’t think he’ll prioritize his needs over your comfort. He can feel your pussy clench around him the more he roams his hands across your back, and when he rests his hand over your ass, you roll your hips almost on queue, your body already wishing to chase that little high as if he didn’t just make you cum a moment ago.
“I know, I- oh maker, I know…you’re so thick and hard Wrecker, I feel so- so full.”
“And you’re so fucking tight love. I want you to move when- when you’re ready.” He knows he should try to persuade you to get some rest, but with every little breath-hitch he hears, and the filthy words streaming from your mouth and washing over him like lukewarm water, Wrecker knows he’s already gone.
Then you move your hips once, just a little bit, until you can feel the veins along his cock slide deliciously against your tight walls, and Wrecked knows any chances of him letting go of you now are gone.
“Shit.” You swear as you slowly sit up and flatten your palms over his broad chest, supporting your weight and setting a soft pace as you begin to ride him.
“That’s it, fuck yourself on my cock…nice and slow sweetheart. Nice and slow.” He hums at you as he meets your place and thrusts up into you. There is a lilt of pride in his voice, one that sets your body on fire. When you can finally open your eyes and look down, you see Wrecker’s gaze set on where you’re joined. His chest rumbles with a growl as he moves you along his dick and juts his hips up into you, and it’s only when he meets your eyes that you realize why he’s suddenly so unhinged, so willing to give you what you want.
The man has a size kink. And from the looks of it, it was going to manifest itself pretty soon.
“Hmmm.” You sigh when you feel his cock hit a deep corner inside you that paints stars across your sight. You want to ask him if it pleases him so much that you can take him without pain, if his dick hardens at knowing that he’s clearly the biggest you’ve ever fucked.
But with every rough push and pull, with every little touch Wrecker brings upon your body, your mind frizzles into nothing, leaving you a heaving mess that grows more needy for him with every kiss he places on your skin.
“The sounds you make, an’edee. Oh fuck, I- I could just keep you here forever. Fuck you all night long to keep you warm. Would you like that?” Wrecker is breathless, and you feel proud at being the reason behind such a reaction. You’ve seen him fight and run for hours on end in the battlefield, but he seldom ran out of breath, let alone looked fatigued. You weren’t sure if this was because he was straining himself so he could hold back, or because he felt for you. Either way, the harsh breaths and growled moans emitting from his mouth were music to your ears, making you yearn for more.
“Wre-eecker,” you dig your nails into his chest, gasping for air at a particularly hard thrust that nearly sends you flying off of him. A part of you wishes this continues when you’re back in the Marauder, but there was no way this would be possible, not when Hunter could hear the smallest of spiders creeping along the walls. You whine in irritation, throwing your head back to distract yourself from such thoughts.
“Would you like it if I keep you here in my arms, fuck you till you can’t scream anymore…fill you up with my cum, till it’s leaking out of you tight little cunt and you beg me to keep fucking you to give you some more?” You feel yourself growing slower to the edge with every filthy word he speaks through gritted teeth. Never in your life did you think Wrecker was capable of such inappropriate honesty. Sure he was brutally truthful when he spoke, but most of the time, it was endearing to know that he wore his heart on his sleeve. Then again, this wasn’t much different now that you thought about it. For him to breathe such sinful desires, he must have been thinking of them for a long time. The thought of being the reason behind those wishes and cravings makes you clench your thighs around him, and you fall into his chest when you can’t find the strength to keep yourself up anymore.
“Please baby, I want it hard- want it so hard.” You plead softly, kissing along his neck and biting the muscles on his shoulder when he wraps one arm around your back and the other goes straight to your ass.
“So good for me, my little fuck-bunny.” A strike of lightning zaps down your spine, and you sob into his neck as realization washes over you. Had it been anyone else saying those words, you think you may have jumped off of them and punched them in the eye.
But this was Wrecker.
And you really enjoyed him calling you his personal fuck-bunny.
“Ahhhhh yess Wreck, k-keep going.” Your moans ring in his ears as his thrusts grow harder, faster, sweeter.
“I’m going to fuck you harder sweetheart, but you- osik, you have to promise me one thing.” He’s already doing what he says, holding onto your ass and squeezing it tightly as he moves you on top of him. You can feel his cock carve you out, sending spikes of pleasure along your thighs until they’re shaking harshly. The action doesn’t go unseen by Wrecker, and laughs beneath you when your body continues to shiver violently while his assault on your cunt increases.
You already know what he’s going to ask, and instead of letting him remind you, you break his train of thoughts and confirm your suspicions, hoping that he’d keep his promise and fuck you into oblivion as soon as he’s sure you remember the safeword.
“I p-promise to use the safeword if it’s too much, just please- Wrecker…take me.” Your voice gives out in an instant, and as you try to brace yourself for the war Wrecker is sure to bring on your body, he forces you to pull back so he can reach your lips.
“Come here,” his hand twists in your hair, tugging on it until he can see your face, and before you can say anything else, he’s shoving his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moans as he quickens his pace and fucks up into you without remorse. You surrender yourself completely to him, letting go of any control you may have had on your body and allowing him to move you as he pleases. When Wrecker pulls away, he pushes your head into the nape of his neck, nuzzling into the space between the column of your throat and your clavicle before biting down on your shoulder and sending you screaming into his skin.
“Ah unghhhh yes yes, oh fuck right there Wreck, right t-there.”
“That’s a good girl, stretching ‘round my dick, so wet and hot for me.” He growls right back, pushing his cock into your pussy with such vigor that you nearly forget where you are. The sounds both of you are creating are downright dirty, and you smile to yourself when you notice you can barely hear the storm raging outside from how loud the two of you are being.
“Uhh ahh yeah, my fuck-bunny is tight for me.” You whimper at the sentiments he continues to breathe on your skin as he drives his cock deeper into your cunt and makes you his.
“Feel me sweetheart, feel me as I mark your little hole as mine.” None of what he’s saying should make you so weak and pliable for him, but you hope he doesn’t stop talking any time soon. You’re sure he can make you cum simply from telling you how much he craves you.
“W-wreck,” your voice barely comes out loud enough for him to hear, and Wrecker grinds his teeth to prevent himself from sinking them into your neck. He wants to mark you with everything he’s got, but he’s afraid you’d think him too violent if he were to ever do something so savage to you. So instead, he bites into his lip and fucks you harder, praying to the Force that your pussy is enough of a distraction from his barbaric needs.
“I love it when you call me that, love. Keep moaning my name, and- hmmmm, I promise to give you my cum.”
Between his words, the possessive touches you’re sure will leave bruises on your body, and the delicious thickness of his cock as he plunges it into your cunt time and again, you cum around him in an instant, your body seizing up all of a sudden as it surrenders to the indescribable pleasure. You feel your lower stomach grow hot with a foreign, heated desire and it’s not until you can finally catch your breath that you hear Wrecker swear and raise you a little to look down at your joined bodies.
“Osik,” his smile is dangerously wide, and you don’t know what’s pleasing him so much until you follow his line of sight and look down to where you thought he was still filling you. Your eyes widen in horror when you see his skin glistening with your wetness, and you look up at him in time to apologize for the mess you just made.
“I- I’m sorry.” Wrecker notices your voice grow in shyness, and he shakes his head to stop you from saying anything else.
“I want you to do that again baby, cum on my cock again.” Before you can ask him if he truly means that request, Wrecker is pushing you down on his cock again and filling you to the brim, hissing in relief when he feels the heat of your pussy engulf him once more and clenching tightly around him. He doesn’t waste another second, grabbing both of your thighs and raising you slightly above his hips so he can fuck up into you freely. You try to support yourself on his chest once more, but your arms give out instantly, sending you flush against Wrecker’s skin again. He kisses your neck, licking and nipping your sweaty skin until he feels that familiar sensation take over your body and send spikes of pleasure down his cock. You’re squeezing him tightly, fluttering with such intensity that Wrecker nearly loses his sight and cums then and there. But he forces himself to focus on your pleasure, wanting to make you cum one last time before he fills you up as he promised.
As you craved.
He opens his eyes in time to see you part your lips in a silent cry as you drench him again, and he doesn’t stop once, fucking you through your orgasm until you force his dick out of your heat and soak him again.
“Such a good girl, making a mess of me like I want.” He praises you sweetly, and you nearly confess those three, fateful words to him. But you catch yourself before you ruin the moment, and even though you’re still shaking from the force of your ecstasy, you slowly sit up and grab his cock, lining him up with your entrance and looking into his eyes as you slide down his thick length one last time.
“B-baby?” Wrecker asks with furrowed eyebrows, knowing that you were yet to come back from the pleasure he just wrung from your body.
“I- I want to cum with you Wrecker, want your cum to fill me up as I fall over the edge with you.” You roll your hips slowly over him, feeling the tip of his cock hit you right where you’re still sensitive.
“An’edee,” Wrecker moans to you, roaming his hand up and down your body, and smiling ot himself when he flicks your nipples and feels you flutter around his dick.
“Take your pleasure baby, use me till you reach that release. Please.” You beg him, one last time, praying that he could finally give you what you want.
“Hold on to me,” Wrecker warns as he grabs your hips and digs his fingers into the muscles beneath your skin. You move your hands from his stomach to his forearms, clutching onto them for dear life as soon as you feel Wrecker plant his feet onto the mattress and thrust up into you. In a matter of seconds, you’re throwing your head back and crying out his name, the knowledge that you no longer have any control on your body, even your pleasure, sending you quickly into overdrive. You want to focus on your pleasure, but the deeper Wrecker reaches inside you, the more you think of his own needs, and you remember that he’s already given you so much.
Instead of begging him to touch you, you open your eyes and look down at him, studying him closely as you bring your fingers to your clit and rub yourself furiously. The man beneath you is a sight unlike you’ve ever seen. His broad, large form is nearly pliant underneath you now, buzzing with energy and pleasure that you’re sure must be sending him into some sort of sensory overload. You marvel at the sheer strength of him, and the knowledge that he’s surely holding back, even now, when he’s fucking you within an inch of your life. His chest is heaving from how hard he’s fucking up into you, how fast his thrusts are becoming as he uses you to get off.
And as soon as he opens his own eyes and looks at you, you give yourself into the pleasure, praying to the maker that he cums along with you so you can experience that little high together. Your prayers are answered when Wrecker descends his gaze down your body and sees your fingers playing with your clit. In a matter of seconds, Wrecker is crying out his release, holding you down against him as he empties his seed inside your pussy and paints your clenching walls with his cum. Although he’s unmoving, the force with which he cums is enough to heat you up, offerig you one last little orgasm before you collapse into his arms.
He’s somehow still hot and hard beneath you, and when you come to your senses again, you realize he’s been praying your name softly as he was filling you up. You’re still shaking in his embrace, and Wrecker can’t help but squeeze your ass every time you unintentionally flutter around him. He doesn’t move, afraid that he might want to fuck you again.
Hell, he knew he wouldn’t have to move to get that feeling again. He was already experiencing it right now. Against his better judgment, Wrecker grabs your ass and raises you off of him, hissing in discomfort when he no longer feels the tight heat of your walls wrapping around his hardening cock.
“Wr- wreck,” you whine into his skin, lazily reaching down in between your sweaty bodies to push his seed back into your cunt. Wrecker doesn’t have to see your hands to know what you’re doing, and he moans into your ears when your thumb traces along his length and makes him twitch into you.
“F-fuck an’edee, keep saying my name like that and I might just push you down and fuck you into the floor.” He warns with a growl, settling you beside him so he isn’t tempted with your messy pussy.
“You- you say that like it’s a- ahhhh…a bad thing.” You cry out when Wrecker slaps your ass playfully to get you to quiet down.
“Not bad at all, but I don’t want to hurt you. Remember?” He leans down and kisses your forehead, nuzzling into your hair before looking beside him to see if there is anything he can use to clean you up.
“But baby, I like it when you hurt me.”
“Hmmm, as much as I love hearing you say that, I- we should uhhh, oh kriff. S-stop doing that,” he starts to respond, but you don’t let him continue his train of thought, reaching down and wrapping your hand around the crown of his cock. When you squeeze it tightly and feel him grow harder beneath your touch, you feel that same sensation coarse through your veins once more.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t h-have that much control, sweetheart. If you- osik, if you keep scratching and kissing on me, I’m trapping you here till your cunt is full of my cum.” He grits his teeth, whining in pain when you bite down on the muscles of his shoulder and lick the slowly-forming mark.
“Oh, is that a warning Commando?” Your question is meant to stir him into action, but the opposite occurs.
“No my little fuck-bunny, that’s a fucking promise.” Wrecker snatches your wrist quickly, raising your hand to his chest and forcing it down on him before giving you a warning glare.
“Wha- I thought you were going to…” You look at him through heavy lidded eyes, praying that he could push you underneath him one last time for the night and fill you up again.
“Fuck you? No an’edee, we’re done for tonight.” Wrecker teases you with a smirk, not giving you a chance to touch him any further as he pulls away completely and stands up.
“But-”
“Knowing Hunter and Tech, they’ll be coming sometime in the next few hours. And I don’t like sharing what’s mine. I’d hate to cut their eyes out because they saw what belongs to me.” Wrecker states the last sentiment so naturally that you can’t help but clench your thighs tightly and slip your fingers down your body until you’re rubbing his cum over your wet folds again.
“Oh.” It’s all you can say now that you know your feelings are completely mutual.
“Hmm, does my sweetheart like hearing who she belongs to?” Wrecker asks passively as he looks for his clothes and your own.
“Fuck,” you groan lowly when he turns back around and palms his cock lazily while continuing to tease you with those sinful questions.
“Or is it the thought of how easily I can beat my brothers for you that’s getting you so hot and bothered?” Wrecker struts towards you, looking down at your form as you spread yourself for him and show him your glistening cunt. He leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes, waiting until you shut your eyes before kissing your forehead and moving away.
“You- you’re not being fair Wreck.” You murmur irritatingly as you watch him walk away and collect your clothes before coming back to you and throwing them on your body, actively hiding your skin from his hungry eyes so he doesn’t fall into your trap.
“You expect me to not beg you for more, and yet you torture me with your words and- and…”
“You’re right an’edee, I’m not being fair.” He laughs as brings all of his clothes to the mattress and ruffles through them in search of his underpants. When he glances at you and sees you pouting at him, he rolls his eyes and pinches your thighs before pointing to your clothes.
“Get dressed. That’s an order!” Wrecker nearly falls over as he struggles to put his underpants back on, and when he sees you laughing at him, he steps towards you and reaches for your waist, softly pinching you and chuckling in return when you fall back into bed and giggle along with him.
“Y-yes sir.” You salute sarcastically, not caring for his request even for a moment. You look on Wrecker as he puts his clothes back on again, smiling to yourself when you see him sniff his shirt and whisper something about smelling like burnt tookas. As he walks around the room in search of food, you lay your hand on your heart and let out a long sigh, one that, you thanked the heavens, was filled with nothing but gratitude.
You started the day with immense fear for your and Wrecker’s lives, even more at the prospect of never seeing Omega and the others again. But now that you were filled with warmth, one that was provided to you by none other than the man who has been the object of your desires and needs ever since he introduced himself all those months ago, you know that things would eventually be alright. It would take a long time, and perhaps much more heartache, but you’d ultimately find rest.
You just prayed it would be in Wrecker’s arms.
#CFGE23#cloneficgiftexchange23#wrecker x reader#wrecker/reader#wrecker tbb x reader#wrecker tbb/reader#wrecker#wrecker tbb#wrecker the bad batch#the bad batch#wrecker smut#wrecker fluff#wrecker fanfiction
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hello, i'm finales georg...
i don't want to further clutter up the notes on this post while responding to the tags below but the persistence of the "finale is short/scenes are missing/extra ad break” conspiracies drives me absolutely bananas when i've watched the finale ten times and have posted about this A LOT trying to clear things up. (disclaimer that yes, i'm a goddamn destiel shipper but i care about Facts above all.)
ok but this is weird because i'd swear the episode was shorter (11 missing scenes!) but okay. maybe we all mandela effected ourselves into #beleving that. because it felt shorter. but i will die on the hill that it had another ad break. i understand this person has the thing #recorded with ads so i am thinking maybe different ad breaks in different idk time zones??? #because the finale did air an hour earlier in canada so maybe idk i am reaching here but maybe different states or whatever had different #ad breaks??? as for the last minute changes - wasn't the cover band asked for permission to use their version of carry on like a week before #the thing aired??? so even if the episode was 42 minutes and had no additional ad break - which i am side eying but lets say all was normal #i will always say they were changing thing until the absolute last minute (carry on my wayward son X 2 #the crew on the bridge which is not only giant 4th wall breaking but also wow they really got all those people in one place in times of #covid???) #anyway. tinfoil hat stays on sorry guys :/ (via @officialmisha)
short and snarky: there are plenty of real and sourced examples of network homophobia and scripted/directed destiel scenes being cut to point to. we don’t need to make this stuff up just bc the finale wasn’t what we wanted. so it’s not the mandela effect — it’s ppl repeating a conspiracy/rumor bc it supports their narrative and it’s easier and more fun to repeat something that supports a narrative they already believe (misha or something destiel was cut) vs the boring act of fact checking.
longer circumspect answer with links bc like many ppl i am in my debunking era and i rewatched "roblox_oof" last night.
like i said. i've watched the finale ten times. i’ve gone over the episode with a fine toothed comb and posted a detailed breakdown of timing marks on my blog. it’s actually extremely obvious where the ad breaks are once you know roughly where to look for them (they have a longer fade to black instead of a quick cut scene change). there’s no room for extra ad breaks and i think this conspiracy/rumor persists in part bc the episode feels so sparse in terms of cast and the fact that the episode’s momentum hits a barn post (and rebar) less than 20min into an hour-long programming block.
also i’m begging ppl to actually look at that timing mark post. it’s very straightforward and i spent a lot of time on it. i don’t care if ppl plagiarize it at this point if it means this conspiracy stops. i've got almost every second accounted for.
the "eleven missing scenes" that you're thinking of are probably from the finale script of questionable authenticity that @spnscripthunt acquired back in 2021 which can be found here. it's dated as the “final draft” from 11 sep 2020 and filming on 15x20 wrapped on 10 sep 2020. as noted at the bottom of this superwiki page "[the] script came from someone claiming to have been the person who did the closed captions for the show in Russia. There are some indications that it possibly may not be authentic, but this has not been confirmed."
if we go with the possibility that this was a transcript meant for subtitles, the "omitted" scenes were probably written but never filmed since it's the "final draft" and not a color revision (blue, green, yellow, etc). unfortunately, i’ve lost track of where i read it and a preliminary duckduckgo search isn’t bringing it up bc there's a program for script writing called final draft, but iirc the “final draft” version of a script is a transcript of what was filmed (e.g. there are parts of that 15x20 script that ended up being deleted scenes on the DVD). spnscripthunt also has an example of a confirmed final draft for 09x02 (funnily enough, also a dabb-penned ep). if anyone can confirm with a source that i have the purpose of the “final draft” version designation wrong, please let me know! i love being proven wrong with Facts.
i do want to acknowledge that the two “final drafts” do look different from each other and the 15x20 one doesn't look like a “real” final draft script since it lacks the revision/versioning dates that a script would normally have on the cover page. it could be that it was intended for subtitles; there's the chance it's been re-typed to anonymize it if there was anything indicating who the "owner" was, tho that seems a wee bit cloak and dagger to me. and again: it's considered of questionable authenticity. there are some things that don't quite line up but oh dear god i don't want to get even further out into the weeds than i already am.
i won't disagree that it's weird as hell that neoni only got asked about using their cover seven days prior to the episode airing (tiktok here). my personal theory is that they were hoping to get a more expensive song (maybe a zepp song, idk) and didn't manage to secure the rights in the end. again: this is pure conjecture on my part! but i could absolutely see someone working on the show hearing neoni’s cover and liking it and then maybe they were using it as a placeholder until it got down to the wire and they had to make a call/send the ep to networks. because yes, it is baffling they played a song and then a cover of it with only a 40 second break between. (i do actually really like the neoni cover! the placement is just weird and i think it could have worked if they had the kansas version at the beginning and closed with neoni's full cover.)
as to the 4th wall break COVID stuff: robert singer talked with variety magazine about filming the last two episodes and the logistics of filming during a pandemic. whether they should have been filming during a pandemic is a separate discussion but their use of office vs set pods, strict quarantining and daily testing meant that they had zero positive tests in the month they were filming (18 aug to 10 sep). so given all that, i personally don’t think it’s totally out of pocket to have everyone standing outdoors on a bridge for maybe an hour to get a drone shot of them together. (i won’t get into incubation periods and viral load, but if everyone tested negative that day and every day for a month prior, it was a fairly low risk scene to film outdoors and for all we know everyone was masked until the last possible second. there were plenty of outdoor masked protests in 2020 that weren't superspreader events.)
and before anyone brings up “but misha was in vancouver!” i know someone who looked into it and they said no dice, nothing matched up between the backgrounds in those pics and places in vancouver. his statements about “us” going back to set over the summer were pretty generic in hindsight and “we”/"us" could be him or the spn crew generally. unfortunately i’m not able to find those tweets but the use of “we” was likely so as not to give away he wouldn’t be returning to set. (bc we were absolutely casbaited!) and bc it comes up a lot: the "onion field pic" was from when they were filming 15x17 and was not taken while filming 15x19 and 15x20.
besides, it would be ridiculous to go through the financial and logistical headaches of bringing someone into the country to film during a pandemic, only to cut their scenes in the end! honestly, the script is pretty tight when the scenes are given so much breathing room! the only thing i could see being further cut down is The Monologue and even then, i don’t think there was any intent to cut it down given it was filmed in fairly long takes.
i’ve said it many times before, but i believe the finale was fucked long before they returned to set. walker got the green light in sep 2019 and it was being marketed heavily as a “follow on” show to spn given jared’s involvement. the demo they were courting for walker has little to no overlap with the demo for destiel fans — why would they want a finale that catered to a demo they weren't interested in courting? we just went through a historic double strike that exposed so much of the rot of business interests overriding creative vision. this isn't completely unfounded conjecture.
i will not apologize for the length of this bc i wanted to be thorough, but i do want to give context that i think the reason these conspiracies and rumors grind my gears so much is because anyone can fact check all of this. the truth is out there and absolutely none of it is that hard to find. the most time consuming/difficult part of this was finding someone who had a DVR’d copy of the finale from when it aired live and they actually found me themselves after i’d been low key asking around for a year!
and like. i get it. conspiracies are fun. but there are so many sourced instances of network homophobia and destiel being cut that it's like. why is this something folks are hanging onto? the cw is notorious for having upper level meddling with finales bc there's a follow-on show they want to shuffle fans along to and spn is no exception.
#this is my personal bugbear / debunking hill to die on#it's so easy to disprove and has been disproved for so long at this point and it just keeps. on. getting. repeated.#finales georg#destiel#spn#unfortch most destiel folks don't venture outside the ship harbor and this has been LONG debunked by w/incest blogs#as in like. days after the rumor first started circulating in nov/dec 2020. (and it takes next to nothing!)#i'm a more recent arrival to the fandom (feb 2021) which i think gives me a bit more distance being able to watch the finale 10 times lol#but like. it is RIGHT THERE. folks don't even have to watch the ep. just pull it up on netflix/DVD/whatever to see the runtime.#the 'new post' button is right there. screencap my post and dismiss the effort i've put in somewhere i don't have to see it.#fandom debunking#i heard tommy tallarico was the first american hired to work on supernatural (his mother is very proud)
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What do you think of what has happened in the last few days? Idk why but I'm sensing a shift in the dynamic of the 4 of them…
Well I can only guess…
This is going to be long:
Let’s look at the last few months.
So I did say from the beginning that the wives thing is nothing but pure promo for AL’s photoshoot. GT must have been asked to do it until BAFTAs because that’s when it stopped, and while AL tried to keep it going, GT cut her off very quickly - she was reposting her sometimes but not playing the wives tag game anymore. And then it stopped completely.
But anyway. I don’t think DT is a fan of AL. So either he put his foot down and said he doesn’t want her in the sketch, or… maybe she was meant to have a job by then and be gone. It would explain why she was not included in BAFTAs and why the wives thing ended right then too. And also why she was excluded from The Way. Let’s be honest here, she was excluded big time. It’s like… she wasn’t meant to be there anymore.
AL was clearly bothered. She snapped at a fan, she obsessively posted and reposted that she was there, she later whined about being dissed from The Way too. I sort of wondered whether she was under impression that she’d have more screen time and it was cut out, because she whined about people noticing the second she was left with as if there was meant to be more. It was all sort of bizarre since the producer was… her boyfriend. Like… go complain to him? Why you’re looking for attention from his fans?
So perhaps she was not meant to be there because of starting a career that… never actually happened so suddenly her heart “grew fonder” and she jumped on the love train of MS instead. It’s just so… blatant.
She tried to pull GT into more promo but GT didn’t play along. GT promoted The Way because she was involved, and there were those two selfies for The Nye from DT that felt like he posted.
DT sorted out an agent for GT with all the promo (including major PR at the BAFTAs) and AL did not even congratulate her “wife”.
And, and I hope it was on purpose because that’s the funniest shit AL has ever done - when GT posted her chocolate content, AL went on Twitter, found MS/DT photoshops, and retweeted it with “excellent content”. Ouch!
Let’s also note that AL even promoted BAFTAs when she got a seat from DT but now when he’s accomplishing other things but she doesn’t get anything out of it… Crickets.
So we agree this wives and family bullshit is over right.
AL keeps on trying with MS to prove they’re totally in love, but he’s giving nothing so it’s not working. She notes she’s alone, he makes a point to stay with fans every night or at the bar. I’d get the hint. This is on top of miserable selfies, not doing photos with her for Nye press night, and then liking a tweet from some “actress” chic after not liking anything from “fans” for a long time. Ai ai.
I think Michael has been done for a long time.
So there’s that.
Then we have GT and DT.
DT as usual is taking all jobs possible, perhaps to stay away from home, perhaps he just loves and needs to work. The rumour always was that he’d take anything to stay away from home. I don’t know. When GT posts videos, I can see that.
He seems to be on top right now. Which I’m super happy about. Perhaps his wife isn’t though.
She happily got snogged on the red carpet on his big day, and had articles about her on his big day too, she happily accepted him sorting out his agent for her, she also played along with the whole family thing etc when she needed an agent, now that she got what she wanted… Crickets.
Funny how it works with these ladies, eh?
We have him dragged to promote her family, put up like a puppet for a photo, and she writes a sweet post about the cousin. Before that, he’s told to do a dumbass video because her followers totally need to see it! He makes it clear he doesn’t want to do it, she has him do it anyway. Meh.
Next day, he wins a prestigious award.
Silence. For him. Because bestie got a sweet post for her birthday. DT? Nothing. When she finally posts it’s a repost and she tags the wrong awards. Then posts about being on a concert. Next day someone had to tell her she fucked up so she posts the same but takes the wrong tag off.
Still not a single word of affection. Or a joke she fucked up. You know, a fraction of what she gave her cousin, and used DT for, or what she did for her bestie. But no.
So, I don’t know. Is she jealous? She always kept him low, suddenly he’s gaining confidence thanks to MS, scoring great jobs, winning fantastic awards. She’s losing control.
Or are they fighting? Or is he already done?
I don’t know. But the fact that MS’s MOM posted before DT’s wife… and when GT eventually did she made a point to make it completely underwhelming… especially compared to what else she posted… well if she wanted us to notice it, she did.
I don’t know if DT not being there for the award has something to do with everything that’s been happening, I’m more likely to believe that he simply had work conflict.
It’s just… I see this image of a bloke who spent his whole career trying to sort something out for GT, when his big day happens he makes it about her and MS, and AL uses him too, and then when he accomplishes things…
Crickets. From all of them.
Well. Apart from mama Sheen.
It’s sad really. He deserves better.
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Fundamental Differing
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nav | chapter XXI | masterlist | playlist | pin board
Chapter XXII: Blood Sugar Sex Magik
tags/warnings (spoilers below the cut!): MDNI 18+ ONLY! angst, drama, confession, tension, ALL YOUR FAVORITES! rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, afab!gnc!reader, mentions of reader being bisexual. dual pov
a/n: buckle up people it’s a doozy. i think you’ll like it though.
cw: unprotected p in v, oral (afab receiving), graphic content not meant for people under 18. MDNI, NSFW.
a/n: haha. hey. hi guys. sorry for all that waiting… i hope it was worth it. This chapter is a little different, no prologue flashback, one scene instead of multiple. Decided this deserved its own chapter. a nice lil mindless sex scene for your reading pleasure. thanks SO SO MUCH for reading, and for your patience!
Disclaimer: i do not give permission to repost my work, please let me know if you see my writing posted anywhere else. reblogs welcome and encouraged to support the author!
—
Your POV
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You were drunk, but not too drunk to forget what you’d said last night.
The sunlight streams through the blinds, giving the room an orange glow. It’s early, but the bed next to you is empty. Understandably. Shit! You sit up, groaning as the movement makes your head throb. You’re in your underwear, and the shirt you’d worn to the bar last night. You can feel the underwire of your bra digging into your flesh. There was absolutely no reason to go that crazy last night, not if this is the aftermath.
As you’re gaining the courage to stand, the door swings open, and you catch Eddie’s eyes for a millisecond before he looks to the floor, face beet red, breakfast burrito clenched in his grip.
“Sorry, shit, I thought you would have left by now.” Eddie tries to leave the room, but you stop him before you know what you’re doing.
“Wait! Wait,” He stops, slowly stepping back into the room. “Eddie, I am so sorry.” You blurt the words out before you can chicken out. “That was so unfair to you. I was so wasted and I was celebrating, and I wanted to tell you about it but I-”
“Y/n,” Eddie’s voice is calm, firm. “Slow down.”
You take a deep breath, centering yourself. Your head has stopped spinning since Eddie’s appearance in front of you, but you try not to make too much of that. He’s dressed in his usual attire, a pair of black ripped jeans, beat up sneakers, and a well worn band t-shirt. Today’s choice just so happens to be the homemade, one of a kind Death Dance Approximately shirt you’d given to Eddie a lifetime ago. He’s since cropped it right above his navel, exposing his midriff, including a tattoo you’d forgotten existed: Your initials on his hip bone.
Shit!
“Okay,” You start, unsure of how you’re gonna dig yourself out of this one.”I want to apologize.”
Eddie’s face contorts, confusion carved into his features. He leans against the wall, still so far away from you.
“What for?”
You gesture loosely to the air. “Well, you know, everything. Last night.”
“Everything, huh?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounds hurt.
“It wasn’t fair. I was drunk, I shouldn’t have barged in here, put you in that position.” You trip over yourself, feeling your throat tighten. Do not fucking cry right now.
“Well,” Eddie draws the word out slowly as he pushes off the wall and towards you. “I can only accept that apology under a certain condition.” He looms over where you sit on the edge of the bed, surrounding you. He smells freshly like cigarettes and mint, clouding your brain as he fills your senses.
“And what would that condition be?” You try to sound unbothered, but your words come out meek, nervous.
“If you mean it or not.”
You gape at him, unblinking, waiting for him to crack, to say “Nah, I'm just kiddin’! We don’t have to get into this right now!” But he doesn’t. He takes another bite of his breakfast instead before tossing it on the dresser, completely unfazed by your silence.
“Do I mean that I'm sorry?” You’re playing very, very dumb right now.
Eddie isn’t willing to drop it, though. “Sweetheart, c’mon. We’re adults. I thought we were over this tiptoeing shit.” He cocks his head to the side, eyes rolling.
“I-” You huff, flustered with the way his neck flexes.. “Look. I didn’t want it to happen like that.” You look at him, determined to get through this without actually admitting anything. “I didn’t mean to say it.”
“Why not?” Eddie shrugs, like this is no big fucking deal.
–
Eddie’s POV
He really hopes you can’t tell he’s sweating. He can feel his heart in his throat, choking him with every breath. He keeps his eyes on you to focus. He can’t let you go again. Not after those words have left your mouth.
“Why not?!” You shake your head at him, frustration practically bursting out of your ears. Good, he thinks, you deserve to squirm a little. “How about, because this is what happened the first time? We moved too fast, we didn’t think, and look how that ended up! Or, how about, you’re supposed to be getting well, and the last fucking thing you need is me distracting you. Or, because if this doesn’t go well, we still have another month on the road together! And the fans, what are they gonna say when-”
“Stop.” Eddie shakes his head, kneeling on the floor in front of you. He should be pissed, but he can’t bring himself to be even a little upset. He has the upperhand now, and all he wants is to hear you say it again. Sober, this time. “Please, just tell me if you mean it.”
–
Your POV
I should lie to him. It’s not a good idea to tell him, not right now. You could take it back, this is your chance to make everything go back to that uncomfortable, tension riddled “normal” you’ve become so used to with Eddie. Things would be so much easier if you could just lie to him. But the way he’s looking at you, with a hopeful discretion, chocolate eyes wet with unfallen tears. makes every rational thought slide out of your brain, only leaving room for the way he’s pleading with you, wordlessly, as his hands grip yours tightly, hopefully.
“I mean it. Of course I fucking mean it, Eddie.” You barely get the words out before he’s climbing on top of you, hands letting go of yours to find purchase on the mattress either side of you, and you let yours fly to his hair, tangling your fingers through it like it’s second nature. You are quickly overwhelmed by him, your space completely infiltrated. The walls you’d been reinforcing to keep him out now crumble without a second thought, and he’s the one behind the wrecking ball.
“Thank fucking god.” He mumbles against your lips, and you smile into the kiss as he lays you down on the mattress.
“Eddie, wait,” You come to your senses, one final time as his mouth detaches from yours. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Eddie has moved his mouth to your jaw, and you feel him chuckle against your skin as he kisses down your throat. “Even after all these years, you still doubt that I want this? That I want you?” You can feel his hand slide up your shirt, his skin lighting yours on fire. “You are all I want. All I could ever want. In fact,” He pulls himself away from your neck to look at your face. He’s serious suddenly, all traces of sweet teasing gone. “I should be the one asking if you want this.” He moves to get off of you, but you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him down. You’re tired of pretending not to want him, of avoiding how you feel because it’s easier. “I do. I really, really do.”
Eddie groans as you pull him back to your lips, letting the kiss say everything you’ve wanted to this whole tour. You hold his face in your hands, afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. His hand finds your skin again, sliding up your back to where your bra is still clasped. You’re nodding before he can even get the question out, and you feel the relief as he unhooks the fabric. He tugs your shirt off swiftly, and you let the straps of your bra slide down your shoulders.
–
Eddie’s POV
He separates from you then, getting up to kneel in front of where you lay on the bed, mostly exposed, save for your modest pair of black cotton panties. “Fuck,” The word comes out in a heavy breath as he takes in the sight before him. Your torso is littered with tattoos he’s never seen before, including one nestled between your tits. And speaking of, he can’t help but let his eyes land on your chest, admiring how your nipples have pebbled even before he’s really touched you.
“Still beautiful as ever.” He’s mostly talking to himself, but you smile up at him, eyes crinkling around the edges, and he feels his dick throb in his too-tight pants.
“I can’t be the only one exposed here!” You exclaim through giggles, and he obliges without argument, yanking his shirt over his head before moving back towards you.
–
Your POV
He’s been shirtless in front of you a few times over the past month, but not in this context. You watch, delighted as his abdomen tightens when you run your fingers down his stomach, along his happy trail to the waistband of his pants. You rake your fingernails over his skin, trace the new ink you hadn’t yet seen up close, listening to his breath hitch when you unbutton his jeans. Before you can yank his pants down, though, Eddie grips your hand in his, moving it back to the mattress. “We’ll get to that. Let me taste you first.” If you weren’t so eager, the words would have knocked you out, but you nod again as Eddie climbs clumsily off the bed to kneel back on the floor. He takes hold of your ankles, swiftly pulling you to the end of the mattress. You feel those pesky bats in your stomach for the first time in what feels like forever, heat rushing to your face as Eddie moves further in between your legs.
He’s in no rush as he moves up your body, lingering to place soft kisses in the crevices of your knees, the plush of your thighs, the peaks of your hips. He ghosts over your clothed heat, nose grazing your mound as he watches you writhe and plead above him. He’s amused by your eagerness, you know him well enough, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You want him, need him, and you’re tired of pretending you don’t.
Eddie is about to yank your last shred of clothing from your body when there’s a knock on the door.
—
Eddie’s POV
You have got to be fucking kidding. “What?!” He shouts, irritated, relaxing only slightly when he feels you giggling underneath him.
“Have you seen Y/n?” It’s Steve, taking his morning roll call. Eddie looks to you for the answer, but you only shrug, face getting redder by the second.
He moves to get off of you, but you follow him like attracting magnets, attaching your lips to his neck as he tries to answer his friend, causing his words to get lost in the fog, only letting out a strangled “Uhh…”
“Ed?” Steve twists the doorknob, out of habit probably. You flinch, and he feels his heart crack. “Wha- yeah! Sorry, I'm a little busy right now!” He clenches his teeth to keep from moaning as you lick a stripe up the column of his throat.
“Busy? You wanna know busy?!” Eddie can picture Steve behind the door, leaning into the peephole, one hand on his hip the other gesturing wildly. As pretty as Steve may be, the image is killing Eddie’s hard-on right now.
You’re not about to let that happen, though. “Steve, go away.” A command. He shifts, dick twitching in his pants again like a fuckin’ teenager.
“I-,” Pause. “Y/n?”
“Yeah.”
Silence. Then the fading of his footsteps down the hall. Eddie wills himself to look at you again, and is rewarded with your shit eating grin. “You are such a brat.” He scoffs, no actual effort behind the insult.
You have the gall to pout at him, like you’re an innocent bystander.
“Does this mean you don’t want to fuck me anymore?”
He gapes at your question, blinking rapidly as he digests it.
—
Your POV
You’d meant it to lighten the mood, but you’ve caught him off guard. Instead of his answer, you’re greeted with another interruption beyond the door. “Hey, love birds! Steve sent me over here because it is far too awkward for him to talk to you in this position, but I, frankly, am happy to relay the information.” While Robin is talking at you, Eddie is making his way closer, lowering to the floor while you bite back laughter at the mess you've gotten yourself into.
”We check out in two hours. If you plan to live out your honeymoon a little longer, it will be on your own dime!” Eddie kisses up your leg, grazing your skin with his nose, sending chills up your spine. Robin is seemingly unaware of your state, or she genuinely does not care. “We’re all going out for dinner tonight before everyone goes home, and both of you better not skip it to cuddle up in bed, you can do that for as long as you want, starting tomorrow. Also,” Eddie’s yanking at your waistband, his body shaking with giggles that you echo despite the knot in your stomach tightening with his touch. “Why are you laughing? What are you guys even doing in there? I know you’re not still asleep.”
”Robin!” Eddie calls, voice strained against his laughter. “I’m trying to eat!”
You drop your jaw, sending a backhanded slap to his shoulder.
”Did you guys get room service? Got any extra-,”
You cut her off with an involuntary moan, caused by Eddie slipping a finger past the damp cotton barricade of your underwear to slide teasingly between your folds. You smack a hand over your mouth, but it’s too late. There’s no way she didn’t hear that.
“Are you okay in th-“ It clicks. Finally. “Oh my god. Oh my god! Are you guys fucking?!” No regard for her fellow guests, or her best friend, Robin is cackling on the other side of the door. You’re in crisis, and she’s laughing!
”We’re trying!” You shriek back, feeling the frustration build as Eddie’s finger circles around your clit, causing you to grind against his hand.
“Oh my god. Wait. Is this first time?! Am I interrupting? Holy shit, I am so sorry-“
”Robin!” Eddie shouts again, this time sternly, losing his patience.
“Yeah?”
”Leave.”
”Yup, yup. See ya!” And finally, the fading of her footsteps, scurrying down the hall.
Eddie turns his face back to your center, littering kisses on your thigh as he wiggles your underwear away from your body.
You can’t help but get in one last dig. “You think she’s going to tell Gareth?”
His smile drops from his face completely, jaw tightly clenched. “I have no problem ignoring him yelling at me on the other side of that door. I think at this point he knows I don’t listen to him. And, he’d probably be relieved to find out I grew a pair.”
You scoff, ready with a wise ass remark when he shuts you up with a slow, wet lick between your folds. He glides your panties the rest of the way down your legs, and you don’t miss him pocketing them before moving his hands back to your thighs.
“Fuck,” you whine, desperately clawing at the sheets as Eddie’s tongue latches to your clit, tracing eager patterns across the bud. You drop your head back to the mattress, willing your brain to turn off. Eddie groans into your pussy, rutting against the mattress as he slips a single ringed digit into your hole. You buck your hips, aching for more and blinded by how good it all feels, how familiar. You’d had your fair share of one night stands since leaving Eddie, enough to get used to the normalcy of bad sex. Now, you’re blinded by how Eddie reads your body, like you’re written in a language only he can understand.
His tongue moves in circles over your clit, fingers curling steadily inside of you. The sounds he causes you to make are wet and absolutely filthy, but you can’t bring yourself to feel any shame. It’s Eddie, after all. You can feel your desire ripple through you, the coil in your stomach tightening with each swipe of his tongue, every stroke of his finger. He doesn’t relent, keeping an agonizing pace while you grind your pussy against his face, desperate for release. In response to your begging, Eddie groans into your core, the vibrations sending a shock of pleasure up your spine, and your vision goes white.
“Eddie, I’m gonna, fuck I’m gonna come!” It doesn’t take you long to feel your resolve snap, sending your legs shaking on either side of Eddie’s head. He holds you in place, still lapping at your juices as he claws at your hips, a response to the desperate praise you sing for him, an unintelligible string of curses and his name through breathy sighs as you attempt to slow your heart down. Eddie only pulls away when you tap the top of his head lightly, signaling your overstimulation. He releases his mouth from your core with a wet pop, and you can see his lips and chin are shiny with your arousal.
“Good as you remember?” He hovers over you, teasing smirk on his swollen lips as you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“Even better, somehow.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours. Your breathing is still ragged, heart still skipping around in your chest as he closes the gap between you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You take his distracted state as an opportunity, tightening your grip around him, flipping him onto the mattress, landing on top of him a little less gracefully than you’d have liked, causing Eddie to burst into laughter. You’re quick to shut him up, grinding your sensitive cunt over his clothed cock, feeling it kick up at the contact. “You wanna help me get these off?” You ask sweetly, toying with the button of his jeans.
—
Eddie’s POV
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart.” His head falls against the mass of pillows, head foggy with the heat between his legs. “Keep doin’ that and I won’t even get the tip in.” Eddie grips your hips harshly, willing you to be still. Touching you doesn’t help in centering himself, though.
“What a shame that would be,” You tease, unclasping his belt as you speak. “Guess I’ll have to move quickly.” Eddie gets the hint, tucking his thumbs into the waistband to assist in getting his stupidly tight jeans off. He’ll curse himself about it another time, though. Right now, he’s solely focused on you, yanking his pants and underwear from his body, and tossing them to the floor carelessly before straddling him again.
You’ve always been a tease, and even all of this time apart hasn’t changed that, Eddie notices. You move slowly, sliding the length of his cock between your wet folds, head lolled to the side as you close your eyes, as if focusing into the feeling between your body and his. Eddie bites back a groan as he watches your performance, awestruck by the closeness. You infiltrate his senses, and he wills himself not to close his eyes from the pleasure.
Finally, after what feels like eternity, his swollen tip catches on your entrance, jolting him into action. He takes his cock in his hand, preparing to line up to your center the way he must have hundreds of times before. Even after these years apart, the distance both emotionally and physically between you, it is a second nature to him. You’re about an inch away when he has a moment of clarity.
“Wait,”
You huff in complaint. “Seriously?”
“I don’t have a condom.”
–
Your POV
That has never stopped him before, and you can feel the panic in your throat as you ask the question. “Have you ben fucking other people?”
He stutters, “Well, I-”
“Wait. Don’t answer that. Did you wear one when you were fucking other people?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. I’m on the pill, you’re being safe.” You shrug. Nonchalant. Not desperate at all.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“When you fuck other people, do they… ?”
“I just said I’m on the pill.”
“Yeah, okay, but you don’t know who these guys are, what diseases-”
“Okay, Eddie, stop. First of all, how do you know what genetalia the people I’m fucking have?”
That shuts him up. “Yeah. Also, if you must know, I have made all the people with penises wear a rubber. Feel better?”
Eddie is silent, and you let your brain run with your panic again. The mood is dead, Eddie is over the spontaneous, passionate confession and he’s never going to speak to you again.
“Okay.” He shrugs, and before you can respond he grips your hips, guiding you down onto his cock as you roll your hips forward, taking him deeper. Without much effort, you take his entire length, reveling in the familiar stretch of your walls. He lets you set the pace at first, a vice grip on your hips as you gain your strength, bouncing on his cock as he bucks his hips into you. You feel him growing impatient though, his thrusts growing eager, hands migrating up to grab your tits. Though you would love to draw this out, make him beg you for it, you find you’re just as desperate, watching him beneath you, mouth slack and eyes glossy, a picture you’ve missed for so long.
He finally sits up, and you let him wrap an arm around your waist, flipping you onto the mattress. Effortlessly, Eddie gains control, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him even deeper inside of you. The new sensation draws a guttural moan from you, unabashed and absolutely filthy.
“Fuck, I missed that sound,” Eddie speaks between grunts, seemingly hypnotized by the way his movements cause your boobs to bounce. He continues snapping his hips, prodding that spot deep inside, that only he’s ever been able to reach. “Thought about ‘em all the time. Couldn’t let myself forget those pretty noises.” All the while, you can’t form a single coherent thought, brain foggy from the heat, coil in your stomach tightening again. He looks so beautiful above you, curly bangs stuck to his face with perspiration, eyes blown out with desire.
Eddie babbles on, ever the talker. “Missed these beauties,” He holds himself up with one hand, the other squeezing your tit again teasingly, and you giggle. “And this pussy too, so much.” the same hand travels down, ghosting over your skin until he reaches between your bodies, rubbing sweet circles on your clit. “Best I ever had, only one I ever wanted. Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good.”
“I missed you too, Eddie. You make me feel so good.” It’s a whisper, all you really have the strength for. He’s panting, resting his sweaty forehead against your own as you breathe into each other’s mouths, and his smile widens with your admission. His rhythm stutters slightly, but he doesn’t relent. “Need you to say it again, baby. Wanna hear you tell me again.”
You don’t have to ask what he means. Through your haze, you can barely get the words out, but you muster enough from the way he’s looking at you. “I love you, Eddie.”
Eddie groans at your words, throwing his head into the crook of your neck, like he’s embarrassed by his sensitivity “Fuck, I love you too. I love you so much, y/n. So. Fucking. Much.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, bringing you to peak.
And he’s right behind you. “Where should I-” He lifts his head up, and he looks at you with wide, frightened eyes.
“Inside, Eddie, please come inside me.” Your breathing is ragged, legs twitching rapidly as you cry out, white knuckles gripping the mattress.
“Shit, baby, fuck!” Eddie keeps his pace until you can’t hold on, the tether finally snapping as your walls tighten around him. You throw your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin as his cock twitches. He comes with you, spilling inside of you as a shiver runs through his body. You bring your mouth to his, swallowing his whines as you both ride out your orgasms, skin sticking to skin with sweat and spit.
Reluctantly, Eddie slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the loss. Before you can say anything, he’s rolling out of bed and into the bathroom.
—
Eddie’s POV
He needs a minute. Maybe an hour. Realistically he’s gonna need a month. Shit. Regret isn’t the right word. Ashamed, maybe, of his lack of resolve when the subject comes to you. He’s vulnerable, exposed. He tries to shake the intrusive voice from his brain yelling in his ear that he doesn’t deserve to be loved, especially not by you.
“Eds?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he takes a deep, heavy breath before returning to you with a wet cloth.
“Sorry, got a little lost.” He chuckles, suddenly unsure how to approach this. Post sex for Eddie lately had consisted of a brief wave and a paid cab at most. Something tells him that isn’t the correct approach this time.
“Where’d you go?” You tilt your head, lending your ear like nothing’s changed since yesterday.
Eddie shakes his head. He won’t let himself ruin this again. “Nowhere more important than here.” He slips the cloth between your legs, gently wiping your inner thighs as he speaks. “Just had to pinch myself a few times.”
When you smile at him, he forgets everything he’s supposed to be worried about. He can only smile back, briefly before he kisses you again. He makes a point to be gentle, to show you he means it. Nothing is more important than here, now, with you. When your hands lace into his hair again he can’t help but sigh, as if relieved to be in your arms again.
He can’t fully shake the tension, though, and you seem to sense that. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We can talk after dinner. Just float here with me a little longer.” Your soft hand caresses his stubbled cheek, tickling him slightly as he reads your features. There is so much love in your eyes, it causes his heart to race.
Eddie nods, leaning his cheek further into your palm. You lean in again, kissing him gently as if sealing your word. He pulls you into his lap, holding you as closely as he physically can. You stay like that for awhile, before migrating to the balcony, lazily draped in t shirts as you smoke your cigarettes, enjoying each other’s presence. For now, Eddie can relax. Even for a few minutes, he is grateful for the silence.
—
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#eddie munson x reader#rockstar!eddie#eddie munson fanfic#smut#angst#fluff#fd#afab!reader#gnc!reader#90s au#slow burn#mutual pining#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#strangerthingscentral#st4
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plan a | myg
Summary: After not seeing Yoongi for almost threee weeks, last night he showed up drunk at your doorstep and begged you to listen to him one last time.
this is part five of so it goes: series masterlist
< part four final part >
—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader
—rating: +18
—genre: friends with benefits (kind of? they're in love) to lovers, angst, fluff, smut aaaa
—warnings/tags: cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism, emotional constipation, short smut scene, unprotected sex, dirty talk etcetc
—words: 8.5k
a/note: HIIII friends!!! its been so long since a posted a full part of this series, this chapter was going to be much much longer but I decided to cut it in half and let this part sink in. I wanna thank all of the love songs that helped me write this chapter and all of you for waiting for me!!! As always, feedback is very appreciated :)
Change didn’t have to be drastic.
You remembered Yoongi’s words from a few months ago while you tried to keep your eyes open in the darkness of Nayeon’s room.
There was something you had to remind yourself during these last three weeks, the same thing you were trying to recall at that moment: you didn’t need Yoongi. It was true, you didn’t physically need him, you weren’t an extension of him, you were your own person. But on the other hand, you were in love with him, and you wanted him oh, so badly. The last displeasure that your heart could bear was feeling a certain burning in your chest when you realized that you had gotten used to him.
You grew used to the warmth of his chest when he fell asleep next to you, his humming when he was cooking, the cold of his pale hands and the way he sneaked them under your shirt to keep them warm. The number of mornings you'd spent talking in bed without wanting to get up had been too many not to miss the strands of his hair in your hands. The amount of his expressions that you had memorized were enough to get you used to him, so one day when you woke up and he wasn’t pressed to your back and his arms weren’t wrapped around your body, you realized that change, this time, was drastic.
Well, this was bad, but mostly awkward. Were those the consequences of your actions? You had always seen Yoongi as a collected person, he never overreacted, he always thought twice before acting, so when Jungkook posted that picture with Taehyung you never imagined that he was going to come and look for you, too drunk to even stand on his feet. Yes, you hoped for a text, maybe another call, but in the first place, the plan was bound to go wrong; If he had called or texted you, what would you have done? And if you had answered, what would you have said?
Yoongi didn’t call or text, instead, he came here and vomited all his words on the floor of your living room, you didn’t know what was worse. You felt so stupid when you realized that you weren’t ready to see him, you were planning to avoid Yoongi for the rest of your life if that meant that you didn’t have to talk to him ever again about this, but now he was right across the hallway, sleeping on your bed just like every other day, and if you held your breath long enough, you swore you could hear him breathing. It was like he fell asleep the instant his head touched the pillow, meanwhile you couldn’t sleep the whole night thinking of him on his knees, saying that he missed you.
You turned your head to the left and stared at the closed blinds. You saw a little bit of light coming through them, indicating to you that it was time to get up and take a shower long enough to put your thoughts in line and decide what you were going to do.
On the other side of the hallway, Yoongi stirred in bed and fought to come back to sleep, but the headache that hit him when he opened his eyes prevented him from it immediately. He hugged the pillow close to his chest as he let out a muffled curse. He had washed the sheets twice since you left, yet they still smell like your shampoo.
It was a matter of time until Yoongi realized that those weren’t his sheets, that was not his bed and that was not his bedroom. The memory of last night fell like a bucket of cold water over his head, reminding him of what he did and what he said. He tried to open his eyes again and saw that he was under your lilac covers, hugging one of your pillows thinking it was you. But you weren’t in his arms, he could hear the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom.
What. Had. He. Done?
It was not difficult to figure out, he had fucked up, again.
As drunk as he was, it was easy to remember everything he said and the fact that you didn't like it one bit. The image of your face the night before was presented in his memory as if it were a sentence, he could tell you were angry and he could tell this was bad.
The reason why it had taken so long to come looking for you had been simple, he didn't know how to do it. Many times he had thought of talking to Jungkook and asking him how he should make the first move since he was your best friend, but he remembered what Namjoon said, Jungkook took your side, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was on his own.
Being on his own didn't always mean a bad thing, in this situation it might have meant that he had to take responsibility for his own actions, to be a man and face his mistakes. But in case it wasn't already obvious, things had gone wrong, he hurt you (again).
After a few minutes he noticed you were taking too long in the shower, he knew you were trying to avoid him as much as possible.
He tried not to startle when he heard the door of the bathroom being opened, followed by the sound of your dragged feet and low murmuring. Scared for his life, he decided to do what any brave man would do, pretend to be asleep until you come looking for him.
You wrapped a towel around your head and put on the same pink pajamas you were wearing last night, slowly gathering enough courage to look him in the eye. It was okay, you reminded yourself, it was just Yoongi, the same Yoongi who fell on his knees and made a fool of himself last night.
When you finally decided to confront him, you found him lying on your bed shirtless. You looked down to your feet and found the black shirt he was wearing last night, you grabbed it and threw it over his head, making him jump in his place. “I know you’re not sleeping.” You said. He quickly sat straight, wasting no time in dressing up again.
“I was.” He argued with a raspy voice.
You hummed in response. “Yeah, sure.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you observed him rub his face with his palms, clearly hungover. His eyes were red and tired from the lack of sleep, even from the point you were standing you could tell he still smelled horribly like beer. He raised his head and looked at you like a lost puppy, but you didn’t have time to pity him, he was the one who decided to get drunk and come here.
For a moment he thought how funny you looked with the towel on your head, but the expression on your face said nothing of the sort. “Don’t look at me like that.” You warned him.
Yoongi had a feeling you weren’t going to be nice to him today.
“You are angry at me.” He confirmed.
“Should I not be?” You scoffed, “You are an adult, Yoongi, and yet you behaved like a child last night.”
Strong start, he thought.
You weren’t angry like, I’m mad because you ruined my notes angry. You were angry like, you made me cry and then you showed up drunk at my doorstep angry.
“I know I did, but-” He tried to explain, but you were quick to interrupt him.
“No, I don’t think you know.” You paused. He shutted his mouth, not daring to say another word. He was beginning to understand how this conversation would go. “Have you, for just a second, stopped and asked yourself how I would feel when I saw that you came looking for me?”
You waited for him to answer, but Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat.
“I was drunk.” Was the only thing he could manage to say.
“So that’s a no.” You said, feeling your words stacking up your throat, ready to vomit them. “Well, it wasn’t nice, that much I can say.”
Yoongi kept silent, scrambling on his head to find the right words to say, he didn’t want to say something wrong and have you get angrier at him, but you seemed to know exactly what you wanted to say, you even practiced in the shower.
“I couldn’t sleep last night.” You continued to say “I keep doubting if I should just tell you to leave, I didn’t know if this is the right thing anymore”
“Do you want to do that?” He asked, his voice was barely heard. Yoongi knew he couldn’t blame you if you suddenly decided that you didn’t want to speak to him anymore, he knew it was fair, he could only hope you wouldn’t do it. That was the thing about you, you had certain kindness in your heart that would never allow you to do that, Yoongi thought it was too much kindness sometimes, and he deserved none of it.
You took a seat next to him on the bed, turning your back at him. “I was not sure.” You answered, clasping your hands on your lap “I keep thinking about everything you said. It was not fair, Yoongi. It’s not like we don’t know each other, you didn’t just hurt me, you broke my heart.”
Yoongi suddenly felt his blood pressure drop, his soul leaving his body within an instant. That was not what he expected to hear. That was the only thing you needed to say for him to finally feel like a complete asshole, but he had it coming; a stake through his heart for breaking yours.
Then, he started stumbling with his own words “That was not-It wasn’t… I didn’t mean to do that-”
“Then what was it?” You asked, turning your head to look him in the eye. “I just want you to be honest with me.” He felt uncomfortable under your piercing gaze, feeling hostage of your eyes and his own mistakes, feeling hostage of the fact that he had broken your heart.
At that point, he was already a ball of nerves, his hands were sweating and his throat was dry —maybe that was just the hangover—. He tried to run away from you for three weeks, now he knew he couldn’t escape anymore. He was the one who decided to do this anyway, when he was very drunk and completely consumed by his feelings in the darkness of his bedroom. There was no plan B, plan A was just to tell the truth.
And how fucking hard was to tell the truth.
Yoongi sighed, “I made a mistake.” He admitted “Countless mistakes, actually. Starting from the top, I lied to you, I said a bunch of bullshit just because I was scared… I’m sorry, this whole thing terrifies me.”
You cocked your head to the side, looking for another kind of explanation in his eyes, but his gaze was fixed on his hands, unable to even steal a glance towards you. “Why?” You asked “I mean, why were you scared? I’m not… I would never hurt you.” Your voice came out as a whisper, low enough to make Yoongi’s heart clench in torment, he couldn’t help but hate himself for making you feel like you were the one to blame.
He filled his lungs with air and exhaled, thinking of a proper way of articulating his next words. Any kind of confidence the beer had helped him build the night before was gone the moment you decided to look him in the eye. Your eyes were two pools of sadness and he couldn’t do anything about it, it was wrong to even consider touching you, so he stayed in his place, holding his beating heart in his fist.
“That never crossed my mind.” He said “But I didn't know if I was willing to take the risk of you being with me and then finding out I'm not… worth it.”
You shook your head, as if you were trying to ward off any kind of empathy for the situation. Yes, he was hurt, but you couldn't ignore what he did to you. “What made you think that?” You murmured.
“Well, I’ve been told.” He tried to joke, chuckling nervously.
Silence followed his words. There was no need for Yoongi to explain that, you already knew. You had millions of questions regarding the ex girlfriend topic, but it was a line that you didn’t know if it was okay to cross.
Yoongi had told you that Dasom was the cousin of Jin’s girlfriend, Jin was a long time friend of his and at some point in his early twenties, his friend introduced her to him. Yoongi had told you she was not easy to deal with, she was rude and unapologetic, but Yoongi never talked about her like she was a bitch, he always talked like he just forgot the good things about her.
“I’m not her, Yoongi.” You dared to say, making him shift his eyes to yours.
He sighed “That I’ve been told as well, but it seems that my mind doesn’t understand that.”
You could feel offended by that, but you needed to understand him first. “So… What does your mind think about me?” You asked, your voice came almost timid, making Yoongi’s skin crawl. The question seemed silly, but you were serious.
Yoongi is reminded that you wanted him to be honest with you, but the question was a bit tricky. The answer sounded selfish in his head, he was sure it sounded the same way out loud.
“It says… that you didn’t like waiting for me.” He confessed. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, just a second ago Yoongi sensed that you were starting to become less angry, but now he was afraid that you would slap him in the face.
You turned your body to his, crossing your arms over your chest. You still looked funny with your pink pajamas and the towel over your head, but your face looked angry and upset. Yoongi would have laughed if he hadn't screwed it up so much. “It was a lot more complex than that.” You said, raising your voice like you were about to scold him, just like the night before “I told you I waited for you many times, but when I saw that nothing was changing I started to get tired. You told me you wanted me, then you said a bunch of bullshit and then you came looking for me. You can’t throw me away and come pick me up again three weeks later.” Yoongi sat quiet on his place, swallowing all of his words “I waited for you, but at the end of the day I feel fucking stupid for doing it.”
He couldn’t help but feel that no matter what he said, he was wrong and you were right, and the worst part is that it wasn’t too far from that.
“I’m sorry-” He choked out.
“You already said that.” You cut him. Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff.
“I’m trying to apologize.”
“Then do it.” You spat, pointing one finger to his chest. Yoongi felt like you just made a hole on his shirt.
He took a moment to organize his speech, you could see in his face how much he was struggling not to fuck up again, his hands hugged each other, his thumb strongly pressing over his knuckles “Fine, alright. This is not me… excusing myself, okay? I just want to explain everything.”
He looked at you and he suddenly realized both of your knees were touching, but you didn't move away. He looked for confirmation in your eyes, but you just nodded, signing him to keep talking. “The other day I told you I can’t make any promises, some part of me still feels that way, but the other part of me knows that I’m just scared. That doesn’t make it okay, I know… And you’re right, I acted like a child and not just yesterday, that night too. I said horrible things to you but I need you to know that they weren’t true and that I was completely wrong. This, whatever it is, it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, it just happened. I’m sorry for making you feel like it was a bad thing.”
You felt a bit guilty when you watched him fighting to find the right words. You knew how difficult it was for Yoongi to express himself, if he was there trying to explain himself it had to mean something, right? You wanted to believe that, but you didn’t know when to let your guard down.
“The other night you said that you know that Dasom broke my heart but it wasn’t broken just for her, it was broken for my family, my mom, my brother and the friends that walked away because I put her first. I’m sorry for waiting so long to tell you this,” He continued to say “I wasn’t sure how to do it. I know it’s pathetic, I had to get drunk to be numb enough in case you didn’t want me anymore. I had to lie to you to protect myself and that was the last thing I ended up doing. I know you, I know you preferred to avoid me but I couldn’t bear it anymore. I’m sorry, I really am sorry for all of this, I’m sorry for pushing you away and I’m sorry for breaking your heart just because I was scared, and selfish, and fucking dumb. I was terrified of coming here and have to admit that I’m a coward.”
“Yoongi…” You spoke, rushing to stop him.
He just ignored you. “No, I mean, you were right that night. I treated you like you were crazy or something and then I wanted to fix everything, but I needed to think. I needed all this time, I don’t know if it’s too late, but I just couldn’t help but wonder, what if you decide to stay with me and then two months later you realize that it fucking sucks?”
Now it’s your turn to be left completely speechless. You thought there was going to be no place to feel bad for him, but you did anyway. That was naturally you, showing empathy in situations where other people would have just turned their backs. And this was Yoongi you were talking to, you understood his heart was broken too, you would have been an alien if your heart didn’t break just a little from seeing him so nervous.
His question was about an impossible scenario, you wondered how his mind came up with that.
“What would it suck?” You questioned, because it was the only thing you could do.
“Wouldn’t it?” He laughed, rubbing the palms of his hands on his face “You think about it all the time, I know you do, we’re different. I don’t like waking up early like you, I don’t know how to take care of plants. I’m an aries venus and you’re a taurus venus.” You blinked, his last comment making you scoff. He stopped abruptly to look at you to verify if you were really laughing at him. “I’m not joking.” He said, shaking his head “I’m going on tour in a few months and you still have to graduate. You said it yourself, we’re not compatible. What if you wake up one day and you realize it was just… sex?”
You snapped a glare at him “Is that the impression you have of me?”
“God, no. That’s not what I mean.” He rushed to say “This is the thing, I see the kind of girl you are and my mind tricks me into thinking you would never want me.”
You frowned “Like I’m too blinded by… your dick and that it doesn’t allow me to see that you’re actually a bad guy?”
Well, Namjoon was right when he told Yoongi that you were going to understand him just fine.
“No? I don’t know, maybe a certain part of it. Maybe you’re too good to see that I’m not going to make you happy.”
You looked around, wanting to burst into laughter for some reason. Yoongi noticed that the expression on your face finally softened, but you can’t utter a word yet.
“I…” You sighed, “First of all, it was never just about the sex, are you kidding me?” You murmured “We shared things together, even if we’re different, I don’t care how different we are, I actually like the things that set us apart.”
Yoongi felt his heart softening.
“What do you mean?”
“Uh… You know, if it wasn’t for you I would still be too caught up in the routine, you make it different. Last month we were planning a trip to the beach and we had to wait for summer, I was waiting for that. I waited for a lot of things, sometimes I thought I was being too obvious.”
“Like when?” He asked curiously.
“Like when I told you I missed you after not seeing you for two weeks.” You answered. “Or when I said that you didn’t have to be jealous because I wanted you, that kind of stuff. I was saving your seat the whole time, didn’t you realize?”
Yoongi blinked, feeling once again like a dick. He was aware of the amount of times that you hinted how much you wanted him, but his mind worked in a strange way, you were kind to every single person you knew, why would Yoongi be different? He was so inconspicuous among the people you loved that he thought he would never be able to have a stable place in your heart. He saw you gave a piece of it to every single person you met, but he wanted it whole. He wanted you whole, not just pieces.
“I baked you cupcakes for your birthday.” You said, bringing him out the loophole of his mind.
“You didn’t.” He reminded you.
“I bought you cupcakes for your birthday.” You corrected yourself “Chocolate cupcakes, with frosting on top, and they were the most expensive. I paid good money for them and I wouldn’t have done that for everyone.”
“What about Nayeon? Or Jungkook?” He asked, suddenly feeling more confident to get closer to you.
“I would have done that for them too, because they are special to me.” You said “I even thought of not doing that for you because I was afraid that you would realize…” Your voice became small at the end of your sentence, Yoongi’s heart shook in his chest like it was defrosting after all these weeks.
“That I would realize what?” He dared to ask, a smirk tugging from the corner of his lips.
“I’m still angry at you, don’t make me say it.” You warned.
The tension in the room eased, but he believed you. You were still angry at him, he didn’t know how long you were going to be angry, but he knew he could wait for that time to come. He moved closer to you, testing if it was okay to approach you. You stayed in your place, observing his every move, waiting for his next step.
“I wasn’t lying on Nayeon’s birthday.” He breathed out.
“Weren’t you?” You whispered. His proximity made your stomach flip like it was the first time he was this close to you, it made you incredibly anxious. A sudden spark appeared in your eyes, it felt like a punch in Yoongi’s guts.
“I wasn’t.” He confirmed. “You’re the only one I want.”
You hissed, taking a moment to think about it a little bit longer. “You want me” You said. “But… Do you trust me?”
“Trust you?” He repeated, a confused expression marked his face.
“Yes…” You affirmed “Is it okay to ask if it would be possible to not think of your past when you see me and just… trust me?” You paused for a second, letting him take your words one by one.
He seemed taken aback, he surely didn’t expect that question, it didn’t even cross his mind.
“Trust you in… what?” He questioned, feeling smaller under your gaze.
“In everything.” You explained, “I understand what you’re feeling and I don’t want to sound like I’m pressuring you to do something, but if you want me I need you to trust me that I want you too, that I think that you’re a good guy and that I’m not going to leave, even if we’re different, even if your mind tells you that.”
Yoongi was not sure of anything lately, these past few weeks seemed like a blur to him, gaps filled with music and work, the sound of his phone notifying him of a hundred missed calls, sadness and anger and Namjoon coming to visit him and putting him to sleep by the end of the night. They were filled with you and the sound of your voice that echoed in every corner of his apartment, and the image of your body under his and that damn video he recorded before flying to Japan, the smell of your shampoo on his sheets and the unbearable memory of you crying because he had hurt you. He was not sure of almost anything, just that he fucked up, but he knew he wanted to trust you with all his might.
Yoongi didn’t know what to say, or maybe he did but he didn’t know how to. There were certain feelings or words that he would never allow himself to say out loud, like when you think of something hurtful but you don’t say it out loud because you know it’s bad, it was the same with love. When he thought about how in love he was with you, he never planned on telling you because he thought that sooner or later the love he had for you would hurt you.
You seemed to have changed his mind, but how should he say it?
He thought this was not the time for burying his words or saving them for another day, so he just told you.
“I made you a song the other day.” He confessed, taking you by surprise. You looked at him wide-eyed, observing him leaning his back against the wall and his shoulders drop “I started writing it one night but I couldn’t finish doing it, so I just did the music and it was done in three days, but when I had to continue with the lyrics I realized I didn’t want to finish it.”
“A song?” You asked, he nodded in confirmation “About what?”
“A goodbye song.” He murmured “I was very drunk, very sad, but it made me think, I really didn’t want to write you a goodbye song, I wanted to write you a love song, I never made one of those. So I had a plan, I needed to make things right before making you a love song.”
You couldn't ignore your heart fluttering, no part of your body seemed to be under your control anymore. “This was your plan?” You managed to ask, scared that he might hear how loud your heart was beating against your chest.
“Of course this wasn’t my plan.” He groaned, covering his face with his hands. “This was… plan b.”
“Very effective.” You laughed “I’m guessing plan a was a bit difficult, then. What was it?”
“To tell you that I love you.” He breathed out “A lot, too much. So much that everyone noticed it before me, so much that it made me act like an idiot.” You felt your heart skip a beat, the tip of your fingers and your whole body tickling. It was almost embarrassing how weak you became when you were with Yoongi, you tried hard to put on a bad face and call him on his shit, but the second you saw his eyes full of regret the tiny you begged you to forgive him, to ease his pain with a kiss on the forehead, and now this? If this had been more like a fight, he would have already won twice.
The look on his eyes tore apart your soul, but he continued to talk regardless.
“Being in love with you terrifies me because everytime I see you I see a nice person, and yes, you make me want to be a better person too, but what if I can’t?”
“You are a good person already…” You murmured.
“Well, I do want to trust you and I do want to believe you, but I’m not easy, baby. I have never been easy.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes and turning your whole body to him, grabbing his face between your two hands and bringing him closer to you. You startled him, leaving him speechless.
“You’re too…” You said between gritted teeth.
“Too?” He whispered.
“Stubborn.” You spat. “I’ve been seeing you for almost nine months, I think I learned a thing or two about you. I know you, Yoongi, there’s no need for you to make a powerpoint introduction of all your insecurities and why I should not be with you because of them.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, you managed to steal a smirk from him. “I was about to take out my laptop.”
“I’m not kidding!” You exclaimed, squeezing his cheeks even more. “I’ve been saving you a seat for too long, it’s time for you to realize that I’m in love with you, and love doesn’t come with warnings. I’m a big girl, I know what I’m doing.”
Yoongi shut his eyes close “You’re so corny…” He whined.
“Shut up!” You said, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him closer to kiss his lips. You kissed him roughly, fast and almost desperate. He caught your waist with both hands and pressed you against his chest, not willing to let you go. Yoongi knew you weren’t wearing any lip gloss that morning, but he swore he could taste the strawberry on your lips.
Somehow, your heart sighed in relief, and his did too. Even if you didn’t know if everything was completely alright, you felt like it was fine for now.
You pulled back, trying to catch a breath, but with the aim of asking only one thing “But since when?” You uttered.
A bright and big smile was plastered on his face, he didn’t want to answer that, but to keep such a detail away from you felt almost like a crime, he knew you would insist.
“There’s this one time,” He said, “when we went to that party with Jungkook and I wanted to go home. I didn’t tell you because you were having fun but you just knew, you brought me here and we drank tea. In the kitchen bin I saw a pregnancy test and you told me that Nayeon had to take it that morning but it came negative.” He said, listing the events of that night.
You laughed about the accuracy of his description, clearly remembering the gossip session. “I remember that.”
“Yeah, that was it. I think I felt it before I knew about it, and then I tried to deny it.” He said, there was a certain regret that filtered in his voice.
You squished his face between your palms. “It’s okay now, you don’t have to deny it.”
“I know.” He nodded, pressing his lips together like it was yet hard for him to believe such a thing. Old habits die hard after all.
“And I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m not anyone else, I’m just me, and I love you.”
Yoongi almost saw hearts forming in the color of your eyes, looking at him with the love of the whole word encapsulated in just a glance. For the first time in weeks, he felt relieved. “You’re just you.” He said. “Thank God, then.”
When he tried to approach you to kiss you again, you grabbed him by his shoulders and stopped him. “Stop, you smell horrible. You can’t kiss me again until you take a shower and brush your teeth.”
“Why are you ruining this moment? You are mean.” He complained but obeyed anyway, getting up from the bed. He shook his head in disapproval and began to wander your room in search of a set of clean clothes, finding some old shirts that you never returned to him and a pair of boxers. Just like that, Yoongi was back in your room like it was part of it from the start.
He left to take a shower, leaving you on the bed waiting for him.
After a few minutes you heard the shower stop and the sound of the curtain being opened, followed by Yoongi’s voice calling your name, which immediately caught your attention; Yoongi almost never called you by your name, for some reason he was used to call you by pet names or just the word baby, so when you heard every syllable of your name being yelled from the bathroom, you headed towards it.
Behind the door was Yoongi already wearing his clean clothes, his wet hair falling like a curtain over his confused face. “I can’t find my toothbrush.” He explained. You blinked, remembering that there was no such a thing as Yoongi’s toothbrush in your home anymore, but didn’t say anything, letting him draw his own conclusions. Yoongi understood within an instant, squinting his eyes at you and pointing at you with his finger. “You threw it away!” He accused you.
“Of course I threw it away.” You said with no shame whatsoever “And you should be grateful that I did because Nayeon wanted to keep it to use it on a spell to curse you.”
Yoongi frowned “Curse me?” He asked. You nodded without hesitation. “To kill me?”
You snorted. “No? So your dick wouldn’t get hard for a year.” You corrected as you looked for another toothbrush on one of the drawers. You found a pink one that you haven’t used yet and handed it to him. He grabbed it, but looked at you with horror in his eyes.
It sounded like a joke, but Nayeon was very serious about it. She said that her aunt tried it with her husband when he cheated on her but didn’t know if it worked. She insisted and said that you didn’t lose anything by trying, but you said no ultimately, not because you had mercy on Yoongi, but because it terrified you to do such a thing alone and then doing it wrong, afraid of summoning an entity and having it chase you forever.
Nayeon offered to pay a witch to do it instead, but there was no way you were going to spend money on cursing Yoongi’s dick.
“I guess she doesn’t like me very much right now.” Yoongi said, putting toothpaste on the toothbrush and beginning his task.
“She is not your biggest fan.” You pouted, patting him on the back and turning around to leave him alone in the bathroom now that your mission was over.
As you were laying in bed waiting for him, you felt the lack of sleep slowly catching you, making you struggle to keep your eyes open, but he didn’t delay too much, coming back to bed to hug your waist and rest his head on your shoulder, burying his nose on your neck. Now he smelled nice, like soap, shampoo and toothpaste.
“I have a question.” He murmured against your skin “About last night.”
“What?” You said, turning your head to him.
Yoongi took a second to formulate the sentence. “Mmm… Were you on a double date?”
You wanted to laugh, but you couldn’t. For no reason at all you would allow Jungkook’s plan to be revealed, it was a secret that you must take to your grave. If Yoongi ever found out about it, he would laugh about you and never, under no circumstance, let you forget it. So no, you won’t ever admit it.
“That wasn’t a double date.” You said, trying to play it cool.
“That looked like a double date to me.”
“How so?”
“Jungkook was with Bora, they are a couple, and you were with…” He tried to explain, but Taehyung’s name got stuck on his throat.
“Taehyung?” You said, finishing the sentence for him.
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever his name is.”
“Taehyung.” You repeated. Yoongi scrunched his nose like the sound of your new friend’s name was making his teeth hurt. “He's a friend of Bora, and it wasn’t a double date, that was just me hanging out with friends.”
There was not a happy look on Yoongi’s face “So he’s your friend now?”
“Maybe? I met him yesterday and he’s a really nice guy.”
“Okay, I don’t want to hear more of that.” He shook his head, coming back to rest his head on your shoulder as you laughed.
“More of what?” You questioned “I don’t think I owe you any kind of explanation.”
Yoongi didn’t know if he wanted an explanation, in fact he would have preferred to be hit by a train rather than imagine you laughing with another guy the way you did with him. But you were right, you didn’t owe him an explanation, which made Yoongi insides twist. Yes, you forgave him; yes, you said you loved him, but you needed him to be clear, maybe just for the sake of torturing him, but he didn’t care as long as it was you doing it.
“You can stop being mean with me.” He said, making you laugh harder. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you from now on if you keep being like this.”
“I don’t know.” You snuggled closer to him, if that was even possible “What are you going to do with me?” You teased him, there was a flirty tone in your voice but Yoongi didn’t hear it quite clearly, he was feeling absolutely defeated. He knew this wasn’t it, this wasn’t the end of his sleepless nights overtaken by nightmares and the sound of Dasom’s voice asking him to leave, but he preferred to think this was more like a beginning, and you were right there, looking at him with eyes full of love. You didn’t seem like you were about to leave.
“That depends on if you’re still mad at me.” He wanted to know, just in case.
You pretended to think about it. “Mmm… No, I don’t think so. I’m happy right now.” You confessed. “But don’t make me angry again.”
“Fine, I won’t, but I want to make sure, you know? Before someone gets ahead of me and asks you first.” He said, trying to sound unbothered. “Would you be my… Girlfriend?” He asked, the question coming out of his mouth uncomfortably, making one of your brows crease.
“Why do you say it like that?” You questioned. Yoongi groaned, annoyed. He was dumb if he thought you were going to go easy on him.
“Like what?”
“Like it’s a weird word.” You kept going.
“Because it’s a silly question!” He admitted.
“You’re digging your own grave, Yoongi. May I remind you there’s a long line of hot guys wanting to make me their girlfriend?” You tried to push him away, but he grabbed your waist tightly, keeping you pressed against him. “And yet you’re here saying it’s a silly question? I expected a declaration of love.”
He squinted his eyes at you, remembering what Namjoon said the night he came to his house to visit him, “You managed to make a girl like that stay with you and you let her go?”. You were the prettiest and smartest girl he knew, and even if you were joking he knew there were probably plenty of guys like Kevin who hoped you forgot about him just to give them a chance.
“I did declare you my love.” He justified himself “I even tried to kneel for you last night.”
“That was not a declaration of love, that was embarrassing.” You said.
He frowned “You’re so rude, honestly. There’s a line of girls waiting to be my girlfriends too, you know?” He tried to joke, but you just turned around, turning your back to him.
“Fine.” You said bitterly “Go ask them, see if they can stand you.”
Yoongi started to laugh then, wrapping his arms around your torso and squeezing you. “I’m joking.” He said, but you just groaned. You felt one of his hands coming to your cheek and turning your face to his, kissing your lips softly. “C’mon, baby, let me make you my girlfriend once for all.” He whispered “I didn’t care about the line of girls, anyway. I just want you, I always wanted just you.”
His words made your cheeks turn red pathetically, you felt your face getting hotter and your heart fluttering inside your chest.
“You’re so cute.” You said, turning around again and grabbing his cheeks just to kiss him again “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend, what took you so long?”
Yoongi sighed. “Don’t remind me.”
There was a beat of silence in the room where you pulled him closer to your body and curled your legs to make space for him so he wouldn't fall of the bed, Yoongi took the opportunity to fall asleep in your arms and you followed him shortly after, feeling like you were sleeping on a cloud.
It would be hard for Yoongi not to remind himself what he did or what he said, maybe he would still have to deal with some confusing thoughts in the next months, maybe he would still wake up in the middle of the night after replaying some ugly memory from the past, but he wanted to make sure that you were going to be there sleeping next to him just like that morning, he wanted to trust that your smile would be enough for him to forget about it just for a minute, he could handle the rest of his demons himself.
The following morning Yoongi kissed you goodbye because he had to check up on Holly, but he promised to come back the next day. Only when you were alone you texted Jungkook, who called you immediately when he read that his plan had worked, he had put you on speaker so Bora could hear that he was right, Yoongi had indeed come to your apartment to look for you because he thought you were on a date. You had explained to him that Yoongi was drunk and if it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t have come, but Jungkook refused to listen to you take all the credit away from him, he was a mastermind (he was not).
You remembered that you owed Taehyung a text as well with an update of the situation, but you were disappointed when you found out that his luck wasn’t the same as yours. Taehyung insisted that it was okay and that he expected it anyway, but you still wished his heart could have a relief.
On the other hand, you did not say a word to Nayeon and asked Jungkook not to mention it to her either. Yoongi was lucky that she wasn’t here last night because she would have punched him on the face and then sent him home walking, so considering that you knew you had to think a way of telling her that from one day to another Yoongi was suddenly your boyfriend, that he had come and apologized and told you he loved you, and worse, you had to tell her that you forgave him and that you told him that you loved him too.
You didn’t seem too worried though, two days later you began to forget that Nayeon was supposed to come back that night. It started with the afternoon rain and then, Yoongi’s classic plan to watch a movie on the couch, except for the fact that you weren’t going to watch that movie, you figured that out before him.
In your defense, you were in a haze. You were feeling like a teenager from the moment he came back, he walked through the door and greeted you like he just came back from the war, lifting you in the air and kissing you against the wall. You had an undeniable attraction for each other’s bodies, even though he had missed more than that, he missed you in every way. He missed the way you buried your nose on the skin of his neck, he had missed your soft kisses, your bad jokes and the way you bickered with him, but that afternoon it was impossible to ignore the elephant in the room, and you had missed him as much as he missed you.
When you wanted to look back, you already had taken his shirt off, your pajama shorts were already gone and it was already too late to stop when he decided to rid up your shirt, telling you to keep it there up your chest to kiss your breast as he pushed your panties aside to bury himself between your legs.
In the past weeks there had been no time to even think about sex, only then, under a fuzzy blanket and under Yoongi’s body, you realized how much you missed him in that way.
He thrusted in and out of you, burying his face on the crook of your neck and whispering non stop how much he missed you.
There was no point in hiding that you missed him too. You had missed the way he kissed your neck and whispered bold words in your ear, you had missed his hands on every part of your body, you had missed the way he commanded you and the look of satisfaction on his face when you obeyed him.
Maybe the worst (or best) part of Yoongi was that he knew exactly how to take advantage of you, he knew exactly what to say to make you crumble apart under him. He used sweet words and showered you in praises, he kissed, bit and sucked your neck until he left a mark, he pulled your hair and made you look him straight in the eye as he drilled in and out your pussy.
“Didn’t you miss this, baby?” He asked, starting to thrust particularly hard this time. “Missed having my cock this deep inside you?” He continued to ask, voice airy and almost crazed. He felt like he was fucking you for the first time, hearing your sweet moans and seeing your tits bounce in front of his face like the first time. You moaned in response and nodded repeatedly, shutting your eyes close when you felt one of his hands traveling up your chest to roll one of your nipples between his fingers. “You’re so good, baby, being a good girl and taking me so well. You deserve to cum all over my cock, do you want that, baby?”
You clenched your walls around his cock, making it obvious how much it turned you on the way he was talking. “Y-yes, please.” You begged, too over the edge not to “Please, please, don’t stop.”
He scoffed, leaning forward to kiss your open mouth, moaning in your mouth as he slipped his tongue past your lips without further warning. “Mmm, I’m not stopping until I fill you up.” He said, making you let out a loud whine when he gripped your thigh to try to fuck you deeper. He quickly noticed that he had found that sweet spot of yours that made you cry and whine, milking his cock like the good girl you were. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your cunt was making him go crazy, but neither of you realized that time was ticking.
To start, Yoongi didn’t really like quickies, he was planning to fuck you all night until all you could remember was his name and the feeling between your legs as he pounded inside you, it was the only thing he could think of as the room began to be filled with the sound of your high pitched moans and your hips crashing with each other. That, and the fact that both of you were completely gone were the reason why neither of you heard the sound of the keys or the door opening. You could only get out of the trance when you heard a loud scream in the middle of the living room and the sound of Nayeon cursing as he ran to his bedroom.
Fuck.
Nayeon had come back.
Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks the second he heard your friend, but she already saw and heard enough. Removing himself from inside you abruptly, he looked at you with the most horrified look on his face, asking for an explanation.
It was certainly not the first time that Nayeon had heard some suspicious activity, but she had never seen anything of the sort, and Yoongi was never the kind to be careful of not being caught, but this time was different. Nayeon hated Yoongi for what he did to you, so he was trying to avoid being seen by her, he knew that now she probably wanted to eat him alive.
You helped yourself sit straight by grabbing his shoulders, a shiver ran down your spine “I forgot.” You said in the tiniest whisper he could ever have heard. Any trace of your climax was gone in just a second, your big eyes shined with worry in the darkness of the living room as your face quickly became as red as a tomato, Yoongi thought you were about to start crying of embarrassment.
“You’re kidding.” He wanted to laugh, but he knew better than making you angry at that moment. Instead, he helped you to put back on your shorts.
“This is your fault!” You whined, pulling up his boxers and pushing him out of your way.
“How is this my fault?” He complained “You were the one screaming for my-”
Did Nayeon hear that?
You wanted to cry.
“Shut up!” You cut him, getting up and shaking your head in denial. “I’m gonna… Talk to her.”
“Yup, you should do that.” He agreed, picking up his shirt from the floor.
“You should hide in my room.” You ordered him.
“Hide?” He questioned, already dressed. “I’m gonna need to take a cold shower after that.”
You rolled your eyes.
“If you get out of my room before I finish talking to her I’m never touching your dick again.” You warned.
Then, Yoongi’s smile was whipped out of his face. He nodded, following you towards the hallway to hide in your room like you asked.
taglist: @rvelvett @kimseokjinbangtan @minmin2022 @minvlush @bids97 @cowboylikevicky @jiimtaee @jjkmspace @localmoonchild @youre-on-your-ownkid @tarahardcore @kookstempo @yoongimentita7 @jwlmnbt @almosttoopizza @floriiansgrave @damn-u-min-yoongi @starbtslove @bastard--bunny @pelicanpizza @deliciouslydisturbed365 @g0lden-sunset @side-effectss @iwishselena @rosquilleta @funsizemarsbar92 @cosmiclatte-world @miss-jupiter @linosluna
#fic: so it goes#fic: plan a#yoongi x reader#yoongi one shot#min yoongi fanfic#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x oc#min yoongi one shot#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x oc#bts x reader#bts au#yoongi au#suga x reader#suga x oc#suga fanfiction#suga fanfic
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fics that have altered my brain chemistry (eddies/joe qs version)
okay so ive been in an adhd brain rot?? where im just fucking HORRIBLE at reblogging fics that i enjoy and honestly it was my whole reasoning behind making this blog FOR GIVING WRITERS THE LOVE THEY DESERVE i just wanted to give a shoutout to these writers (and stories) they’ve made that just fucking messed with my brain (and in a good way okay??) over these last few months. please check them out and give them all the fucking love they deserve
like a poem (FINISHED series, but sometimes if you ask nice enough she will throw a blurb in there) - im so very fucking biased because i love her to the moon and back, but she writes the best fucking stories of joe that will keep you up all night having you rethinking all of your life choices. IT WAS VERY HARD FOR ME to pick out a story that i wanted to highlight in this post, but the whole reason i fell in love with her writing was because of bookstore!joe and he will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart. love you boo
plot: “Joe finds solace in a quaint bookstore, your bookstore, from a hectic situation in the streets. But, you’re closed. But then also, it’s Joseph Quinn.“ from the authors page
echoes (FINISHED, series) - again im so very fucking biased because she is the sweetest person you will have the pleasure of knowing BUT THATS BESIDE THE POINT - she writes so fucking beautifully she will literally have you CRY and this will forever and always be my favourite fic of hers. she deserves all the love she gets, and then even more so read it!!!! (she will make you cry its not on me tho)
plot: “When she laid her emotions out for her best friend, the last thing she expected was for him to turn around, walk away and never speak to her again. Years after, they meet again - different people, different feelings. Or are they?” from the authors page
the hideout (FINISHED, oneshot)- this was one of the first fics i read and fell in love with. it was in that timeperiod where all i could do 24/7 was read eddie munson fanfics and this was one of those fics where i went “holy SHIT??” and honestly i dont think there will ever be a time where this isnt just some % on my mind??
plot: “Eddie Munson made it big. Now, when he returns to Hawkins for a hometown concert with his band, he is reminded of the girl he’s been in love with for the past 6 years when Steve Harrington calls.” from the authors page
vintage reeboks (FINISHED) - this is one of those fics where you’re like???? holy shit i wish i’d come up with that?? i remember reading all of this in one day (summertime, sweating very fucking much) and its just?? holy shit its perfect?? the way eddie is in this??? and its something i could never think of would be this perfect?? i swear i think of this fic at least once a day??
plot: “The gate at the bottom of Lover’s Lake was meant to spit the quartet out in the Upside Down. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were meant to be there. He wasn’t meant to be alone. But when Eddie comes to on the shoreline, you’re there. It’s not the Upside Down. It’s not Lover’s Lake. It’s not 1986.” from the authors page
twenty four hours (STILL GOING) - the way this has me in a chokehold?? im a fucking sucker for when fics have a nice layout??? and this is just so pretty to look at?? like whenever i see its been updated my whole body is SHAKING?? i dont even know what to say?? this is just so amazing and the whole?? will they wont they?? i love them?? i want them both to fight with me all night long??? i CANNOT wait to see where this ends
plot: “in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?” from the authors page
to know you’re mine (FINISHED) - i saw someone talk about this in the “eddie munson x reader” tag, and DEVOURED the chapters that were up in one whole day?? the way eddie is so fucking soft and nice and the best fucking gentleman in this?? and also?? the relationship to steve in this is amazing??? but THE RELATIONSHIP TO EDDIE IS EVEN MORE AMAZING?? such a fucking fantastic author please go EAT all the chapters right now
plot: “You know the rules. You'd been there when your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, discussed them with the others. There are only two.Number one: Only play when everyone's together. Number two: No finishing inside each other's girls.You'd agreed to these rules, same as Chrissy. Same as Eddie.But then there's rule number three, and though it remains unspoken, it's by far the most important. And you have that feeling again, like when you propped yourself up against the barstool, straining to see him on that stage, craning for a glimpse as his husky voice reached inside you. Now, his dark eyes are doing the same thing: pulling at something buried deep, tugging it into the light where it can't be hidden. And, sure, of course, you didn't intend this. But what are intentions in the face of such things? Needless to say, every rule gets broken.” from the authors page
the customer’s always right (STILL GOING) - hehhehe im a hoe for cutie virgin eddie??? but they way she always manages to capture eddie in her fics?? fucking amazing??? and her writing??? yes PLEASE so do yourself a favor on this fine friday AND READ THIS AMAZING FUCKING SERIES because eddie will make you fall in love in this???
plot: “eddie munson is a virgin and doesn’t want anyone to know (because being an adult who’s never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that.” from the authors page
sincerely yours... (STILL GOING) - like i’ve told her before - her eddie is fucking amazing and so very much to the point!! im so excited for this one and cannot WAIT to see where eddies teasing will make him end up!! the last fucking part of this??? amazing
plot: "Untouchable, is what he called you. Dating Jason, the captain of the basketball tea, most would call you the same. Living your holier than thour life, something else he said, you can’t seem to swallow the need to prove him wrong” from the authors page
burn one (FINISHED) - this is just the perfect fucking combination of smutty and sweet??? like this is just how i imagine eddie and this is so fucking sweet and perfect?? had me thinking about this for WEEKS UGH
plot: "When you move to Hawkins to start over, your new unexpected friendship with your weed dealer next door is your saving grace. It was never your intention to fall in love with him though.” from the authors page
Disjointed (STILL GOING) - this fic has me feeling ALL the feels in all the chapters?? makes me GIGGLE, makes me CRY!!!, i’m in love with all the chapters and i CANNOT WAIT to see them live happily every after
also now that i’ve finished, i’ve just realised this is a lovepoem to my favourite authors on this app heheheh im sorry but i DO love you guys. please do go and read their stories, and send them all the fucking love in the world!! they do have so many amazing stories on their masterlist you will not be able to sleep tonight!!!
authors mentioned in this post THAT YOU NEED TO CHECK OUT!!: @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi @ghost-proofbaby @blue-mossbird @lovebugism @plumxwrites @loveshotzz @boomhauer
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fan fic#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#joseph quinn fan fiction
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He’s In The Walls!
Summary: Uhh, I did the writing version of doodling last night and forgot to post it. Once again, the ranch hand tries to trick Danny into getting some sleep. Key word: tries.
Word count: 1,235
Twilight peered into the room and internally let out a mixture of a sigh and a groan. Just like he saw earlier, Danny was still awake, sitting by the fireplace, still reviewing and studying the same textbook over and over. His red notebook was left open and folded in half next to the small, but rather thick book with blue and black colors wide open. Danny called it “Algebra Two”, which was something he was supposed to start learning in over two months from the day he ended up tagging along with them.
He was determined to use any free time he had while on this adventure to get a head start, though, because according to him, math wasn’t his strong suit and Algebra is apparently part of math. It made sense, but at the same time, it frustrated Twilight a bit that it was his first thing to do when he had free time.
Unless it was nighttime. He’d instead be found outside stargazing. Except tonight.
Tonight, Danny had been reading and doing practice problems since before the sunset, right after he finished helping around with chores and dinner. It was as if he didn’t notice day had already passed by. Twilight wouldn’t be too surprised. The young teen could get pretty deep in the zone if he was left to it for long enough.
Danny reached for the mug placed on the carpet next to him and lifted it up to take a sip of the contents, but then he paused and looked inside.”Huh, must’ve drank faster than I thought.” He muttered to himself. Twilight’s mood was lifted and a smile briefly appeared on his face when he heard that. Before he could try to put his plan into motion, however, Danny stood up. He yawned and turned to go into the kitchen. There was the sound of water and movement before he came back to sit down next to the books again.
He lifted both arms up and groaned a little before letting his arms fall back down. Danny just sat there for another few seconds, eyes staring at the fire in a tired daze, then looked back at the books. Twilight decided now was the time to make his move.
The ranch hand wordlessly entered the room and began walking towards Danny. Surprisingly, he went unnoticed until he came close enough to kneel down and put the blanket around Danny’s shoulder.”Twilight? I appreciate it, but I’m not cold—“ Danny stopped his response when he noticed that the ranch hand had actually wrapped it around his shoulders. Twilight lightly pushed him down and reached one arm down so he could get his legs, too.
“Hey, what are you going?!” Danny asked, a little irritated. He moved his legs around and tried to worm out the arms that were now pinned against his sides, but he was tired after everything that transpired over the last few days.
It affected all of the members, really. Twilight had just gotten up for some water, but when he saw Danny, he went and got a spare blanket. Now he was going to use it to wrap around him and finally ensure he’d get his sleep.
Danny wriggled around in protest, but his movements didn’t have even half as much strength as usual. When Twilight successfully managed to wrap his entire body in the blanket, Danny had finally stopped fighting, but the glare he shot Twilight’s way had a small fire that wasn’t extinguished yet. The ranch hand wrapped his left arm around Danny and picked him up. As he left the room and took a turn to the right, the kid’s irritation grew with his stuff now left behind.
“Are you going to explain?” Danny asked.
“Kid, you’re falling asleep at the books and it’s midnight. You’re going to bed.” Twilight said. He turned his body and maneuvered through the doorway meant for one person, not one person plus another wrapped in a blanket.” ‘N don’t bother tryin’ to get free anymore. I know that your strength’s spent, ‘n that tea you were given actually helps with sleep, not stayin’ awake.” He added.
The hallway itself was luckily wide enough for three people, so the ranch hand was able to carry Danny without worrying about hitting him against the wall. The long window following down half of it allowed faint moonlight from the unseen moon to paint the hallway in a very dim, calming white light. It was a little quiet for a few more seconds, and Twilight had allowed himself to hope that the cozy cargo he was carrying had fallen asleep already.
“Smart move, cowboy.” Danny said. He said it in that kind of note where it’s half spite, half genuine respect. Twilight breathed out a very brief laugh from his nose as he crossed the hall towards the door on the other side, which had an unclaimed bed inside.“You know what the only problem is?” Danny asked.
Feeling a little smug about how things turned out, Twilight couldn’t help but think that whatever he was about to say or do wouldn’t be an actual problem. Sure, the kid was stronger than he looked, but any sudden bursts of fighting energy had likely already been spent. Still, he wanted to know what he was going to say for the sole purpose of seeing him when it didn’t work.”What’s that?” Twilight asked confidently. While he was focused on opening the door, he failed to notice the white light coming from Danny.
“I’m already gone.”
As soon as he started speaking, Twilight noticed the lack of weight where Danny once was. He could no longer feel the young teenager against his body and the blanket that he’d previously used to secure him fell from his arm and onto the floor. The ranch hand looked down bewildered to see nothing but empty space where Danny was supposed to be. Twilight’s eyes widened in shock as he looked around almost frantically, genuinely concerned about how the kid had disappeared and where to.
As he glanced around, his enhanced hearing picked up on a small laugh coming from the right. When he turned, he couldn’t see Danny, but something told Twilight that some kind of presence he didn’t notice before had just left the narrow room through the wall right in front of him.“He’s in the walls...” He muttered. He then picked up the blanket again and held either side in both hands. He readied himself and relied on the very odd sensation his wolf senses picked up as he ran back down the hall. He already knew that the books were probably already gone.”He’s in the goddessdamn walls!” Twilight repeated, but kept his voice down to a whisper.
When Time looked out his window to see Twilight running across the field and out of view of the window, his first thought was that something was incredibly wrong and sat up. Then, just as quickly, he saw the ranch hand return carrying a sleeping Danny into the house. He smiled a little and laid back down to go back to sleep.
The next day, he’d confirm with Twilight that Danny stayed up late studying again, and Malon would hear them and swear to have a word with him.
“Hylia help him.” Twilight joked.
“Oh, pup, Hylia would only be able to stall her for a few minutes.” Time said
#danny phantom#danny fenton#linked universe#linked universe twilight#linked universe time#linked universe x Danny phantom#Danny phantom x linked universe#I’m sorry#I’m working on the next update#I promise#just needed to get this out of my notes and drafts#crackfic
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So I started writing that Max and Steph roleswap AU and I wanted to post this little snippet I have so far and hear everyone’s thoughts because I’m not 100% happy with it yet…idk i feel like it might be too exposition heavy if that makes sense?? Like the backstory is important but idk I feel like I just kind of dumped it and maybe could weave it throughout the story better?? Lmk if you have any thoughts :)
Also Max and Richie’s relationship is going to be platonic in this (bc once again I’m weak for aroace Richie and the power of friendship being treated with the same narrative weight as romantic relationships).
Finally shoutout to tumblr user @idk-imrambling-idk who said in the tags of the original post that Max and Steph give sibling vibes in this au because I was like you know what, I love that, yes they do!! And it really inspired their dynamic and relationship in this
Here it is :)
Stephanie learned what it meant to be powerless at the ripe old age of nine. She sat next to her father in the crowd, watching the blindingly bright spotlight shine down upon her mother and beaming with pride as she was crowned Honey Queen. The applause was uproarious, every last townsperson’s gaze fixed solely on her. She’d always known her mom was the sweetest woman in Hatchetfield, but now it was official. Now she had the beautiful, ornate crown upon her head to prove it. As her mother was whisked away to what she assumed was some sort of super special, secret ceremony, her father insisted over her protests that no, they couldn’t go with her, she needed to go home and get to bed. It was a school night, after all, and she’d see her mother soon enough. She didn’t. Her mother never came home that night and with each passing day, Stephanie’s hope that she ever would dwindled even further.
Every woman who’s ever won that pageant has left Hatchetfield and never looked back, but back then, she didn’t know that. She just knew that one day, her mom was there to fawn over her drawings and point out all the little details she liked and put her spelling test up on the fridge and say how proud she was that Steph worked so hard and got more words right than last time and the next day, she wasn’t and there was nothing Stephanie could do about it. She wondered what she did wrong that her mom was so eager to get away from her. To this day, Stephanie doesn’t know where she ended up. She went through a brief phase where she spent hours a day fervently researching online and following every crumb of information she could find, desperate for any answers, but the very few flimsy leads she was able to find turned out to be dead ends. Not long after her twelfth birthday, Solomon told her she really ought to stop digging, because she wasn’t going to find the answers she was looking for and if she did, she wouldn’t be able to handle them. She rolled her eyes at his usual weird, cryptic nonsense, but for once, she didn’t argue with him. She never did figure out how he knew what she was doing. She only did her sleuthing when she was home alone and always made sure to use incognito mode.
As she got older, the list of things she had to do and wasn’t allowed to do and people she couldn’t hang out with grew exponentially. Everything always came back to the next election and how her behavior might reflect on her father. There was to be no hanging out with the smoke club kids, because he didn’t want the public thinking she was some kind of drug fiend (as if they were doing actual drugs. They were seventh graders. They may have upgraded to the real stuff now, but back then, Stephanie’s confident their vices of choice were, in fact, cloves and oregano, whether or not they were aware of it). If there was an option for honors or AP in a given subject, she had to take it, regardless of her interest or aptitude. He didn’t want her looking like some kind of slacker. Ironically, she credits that with how she became one. It was embarrassing trying so hard, only to still struggle to understand the material and receive abysmal grades in return, but it was equally embarrassing to admit to this and ask for help, so she figured the easiest route would be to stop trying. She made sure to keep her grades just barely high enough to keep her dad off of her case, but refused to do anything more. These days, she doesn’t have to sweat it. If she’s really in a pinch, she can just threaten some nerd into doing her homework for her.
As if that weren’t bad enough, the summer before Freshman year, one Greg Jägerman followed in his wife’s footsteps and vanished without a trace. That in itself was nothing out of the ordinary, but it did raise the question of what to do with the son he left behind. Solomon wasn’t doing so hot in the polls and Miss Tessburger decided that taking in the guy’s now-orphaned kid would make Solomon look kind and charitable, two of the last descriptors most voters would apply to him. Of course, nobody asked Steph her opinion. She was just stuck with this annoying pseudo-adopted brother one day and expected to be cool with it. Well, more accurately, nobody cared whether she was cool with it or not. The worst part was that he totally bought into this stupid fake family thing. He still won’t stop calling her sis.
What really infuriates her is that he gets the freedom she’s long been denied. Solomon truly couldn't care less what he does as long as he stays out of major trouble, doesn’t completely flunk his classes and shows up for all the public appearances and family photo ops. To this day, he still calls Solomon Dad as if he has any right to, as if Solomon sees him as anything more than an unfortunate consequence of a bold PR stunt, as if he’s had to put up with a fraction of what Stephanie’s endured from him. Solomon is not his dad and he is not a Lauter, no matter how many people mistakenly call him that. Solomon even praised him once. He came home from his latest lacrosse match and proudly said that they’d creamed Sycamore or whoever. Solomon, nose-deep in the latest poll and survey results Miss Tessburger had sent him, absently said, “that’s nice, son,” and waved him off. Sure, it was insincere. Sure, it was dismissive. But it was still far more than Stephanie had gotten since she was literally nine years old and more than she’s gotten since. It made her blood boil. She’d been jumping through hoops like some kind of goddamn show dog for her father for years and never got so much as one half-hearted compliment. It was just expected of her.
Still, she continued to jump through those hoops. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice and at this point, it was all she really knew, anyway. Unsurprisingly, Solomon still demanded more and just before she went into high school, he decided she was going to do sports. If there’s one defining trait that all of his constituents in town share, it’s their bizarre obsession with high school football, so this was a surefire way to impress them.
“Why do I have to?” she’d protested “Max already plays volleyball and lacrosse, doesn’t that satisfy the sports kid requirement?”
“Stephanie, I’d like to have an intelligent conversation with you. In other words, shut up. You know as well as I do that nobody cares about either of those sports. Clivesdale doesn’t even have a lacrosse or volleyball team and beating them is all these simple-minded hicks seem to care about. If you refuse to bring up your mediocre grades or put your time into any useful extracurriculars or bettering yourself in any way, the least you can do is join the cheer squad. How hard can it be to jump around and do some silly little chants?”
Max was there, too. Of course he was. On the increasingly rare occasions where Solomon was actually home, he was sure to be right there at his side, telling him about his day as if he fucking cared. Calling him Dad as if he had any fucking right to. She didn’t miss the way his face fell ever so slightly when Solomon said that nobody cared about his stupid sports and she couldn’t help but feel smug about it.
“Ha, yeah,” she said with a smirk “volleyball and lacrosse are dumb.”
The brief satisfaction was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing matter. Hell no, she was not going to join cheer. Pep, enthusiasm and silly dance routines aren’t really her style. She wasn’t sure she could do it if she wanted to and she really, really didn’t.
“Well, figure it out,” Solomon told her, looking at her with the usual disdain “it’s either that or football.” He may have said it mockingly, but she decided to take it as a challenge. She breached her own “no putting in more effort than necessary” policy and spent hours a day on the empty football field practicing plays. She’d usually drag Max along with her if he didn’t have practice for whichever one of his unimportant non-sports was in season.
“Hey,” he said during one of these practice sessions as he threw an admittedly decent spiral, his signature dumb, goofy grin on his face “I’ve been thinking about trying out, too. It might be kinda fun to be on the team together.”
She scowled. “No,” was her only response “just shut up and throw the ball, okay?” This was going to be her thing, damnit. He wasn’t going to invade it like he did everything else in her life. He did as she asked and never brought it up again.
She spent hours more at the gym, doing hard cardio until she was as sweat-soaked as that annoying weeb kid she saw around school sometimes and pushing herself to her limits strength training. It all paid off when the day of tryouts arrived and she blew everyone away with her athletic prowess, earning the position of star quarterback. That alone would have been great publicity and the fact that she was a freshman and the first girl ever to make the team in any position were the cherry on top. It spoke volumes that Solomon didn’t have anything negative to say, although he didn’t offer any praise, either.
If nobody could stand up to her before, they really couldn’t now. She wasn’t just the mayor’s daughter anymore. She was the star football player and with every victory she helped them score, especially against Clivesdale, the teachers and the principal became less and less likely to discipline her if anyone complained of her so-called bullying. It wasn’t as if they could do much before, but now they didn’t even care to try. With that, her iron grip over the school was secured and she’s thoroughly enjoyed it ever since. She still can’t do anything about her mom walking away or her dad treating her like some kind of accessory whose only use is to make him look good to potential voters or her stupid not-brother encroaching on her life and taking everything that’s rightfully hers, but she can maintain the delicate balance that is the high school hierarchy she’s created and bring order to Hatchetfield High. Really, she’s doing them all a favor. They don’t know what’s good for them and without her, it would descend into chaos.
Max slides into his seat in AP Calc with seconds to spare before the bell rings. He’s slammed two of those vile tasting sugar free energy drinks and he’s praying they’ll kick in soon.
“Alright, we’re going to have a pop quiz today. Hope you’ve been hitting the books, Mr. Lauter,” Miss Mulberry says. He doesn’t bother correcting her. Maybe if he could wear his letterman that has “Jägerman” embroidered on it, people wouldn’t make that mistake so often, but he’s not allowed to. The letterman jacket is Steph’s signature look. Not even Kyle and Jason get to wear theirs unless it’s a game day and they’re her closest friends. Max doesn’t even get that privilege, so he settled for a navy blue flannel with a tiny nighthawk patch poorly sewn into the pocket and his letterman hangs untouched in his closet. Sometimes, he doesn’t mind being called Max Lauter, even if it sounds a little off. Sometimes, he wants to believe that’s what he is. Other times, he wishes people would get it right. That’s the least of his worries right now, though. His chest feels so, so tight and a wave of nausea overtakes him and makes him wonder if ingesting so much caffeine and chemicals was a wise idea. He’s screwed. He can barely pass a test in this class when he has time to prepare and sacrifices several nights’ worth of sleep to study. He shouldn’t even be here. He knows he’s kind of dumb. Stephanie gleefully reminds him on a regular basis. Solomon doesn’t vocalize it, but sometimes Max will say something to him and he’ll just give him this look as if he’s just uttered the stupidest, most incomprehensible words ever spoken, then shake his head and go back to ignoring him. He’s always had a lot of trouble in most subjects, but math is by far the worst. Realistically, remedial algebra would be more his speed, but it wouldn’t be very becoming of a sort-of Lauter. Solomon took him in when he had nowhere else to go. He’s been a lot nicer to him than his own father ever was. He figured the least he could do is make him proud, but so far, that plan has backfired tremendously. Nobody’s going to be impressed with the D plus that he’s clinging to for dear life and can still feel slipping through his grasp.
He glances to his left and sees his neighbor calmly reach into his backpack and pull out his pen and calculator. The sheen of sweat on his forehead would suggest that he’s almost as nervous as Max is, but his demeanor radiates confidence and excitement. Max wonders why that guy wears so many layers if he’s always so sweaty. They’ve been in classes together since the first grade, but they’ve hardly spoken two words to each other. Max has, however, watched his hand eagerly shoot up whenever Miss Mulberry asks a question. He has watched him answer every equation with ease, solving them without fail, even when it all looks like gibberish to Max. If anyone can help Max out of this jam, it’s this guy. He has no real reason to, but Max supposes it can’t hurt to ask. What’s the worst that could happen?
“Hey,” he whispers “Shitlips, right?” He immediately winces. Fuck, he did not mean to say that. That’s how Steph and her friends always refer to him and he let it slip without thinking. Richie turns to glare at Max, clearly not amused.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly “I meant Lipschitz. Richie Lipschitz, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, still a little irritated “what is it? We’re about to take a test.”
“It’s just that, uh, we’ve been in school together for, like, ages and I just realized I’ve never introduced myself. I’m Max.”
“Yeah, I know, Max Jägerman. The mayor’s kid. Stephanie Lauter’s brother.”
“She doesn’t like me reminding people, but yeah,” Max replies with a self-deprecating chuckle “I feel kinda bad now. I called you Shitlips and you got my name right on the first try. A lot of people think it’s Lauter.”
This gets Richie to crack a faint smile. “Yeah, I always remembered it because it sounds like Eren Yeager.”
“So, you ready for this test?” says Max with a sheepish grin “‘Cause I’m really, really not. Like, nothing in this class makes even a little bit of sense to me. I’m one hundred percent going to fail. Unless you help a bro out.”
“Oh, we’re bros now?” Richie says with a raised eyebrow.
“Sure,” Max says “we’re Nighthawks, right? We gotta stick together.”
“But won’t we get in trouble?”
“Not if we don’t get caught,” Max says “rules were made to be broken.”
“Fine,” says Richie “I’m willing to tilt my paper slightly so you can see it better. Try to keep up, though, I’m not waiting to turn in my test so you can finish copying. That’ll look suspicious.” That much is true. Richie’s always the first person to turn in his test in this class, usually by a substantial amount of time. “And don’t be super obvious about it,” he adds.
“Really?” Max says, his face lighting up in a way that he rarely allows it to “thanks, dude, I owe you one!”
#nerdy prudes must die#npmd#max jagerman#stephanie lauter#hatchetfield fanfic#npmd au#max and Steph roleswap au#richie lipschitz
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Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part nine
We'll be back to Wed/Fri next week I promise!! Btw I listened to "Decode" a lot while writing more of Hotch spiraling so......
Warnings: reader dealing w the aftermath of how Hotch treated her in the last chapter, more lies
Follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be "tagged" when a new chapter goes up!
Nine: How did we get here? -- "Decode" by Paramore
After you left, Hotch continued talking to himself for a few seconds before “ending” the phone call. He felt stupid faking a call, but he needed you to leave and not ask questions. He knew you had questions, and that was worrisome.
He hadn’t meant for all of that to happen. But he felt better now, reinvigorated, so that was worth it, he supposed. He needed the boost of energy. He had unsubs to find. You would understand.
The unsub who ran would be hard to find, Hotch knew that. He was good at hiding, it was what took them so long to track him down in the first place, and they wouldn’t have if it weren’t for the kid.
But there were others Hotch could take care of in the meantime. One in particular was just a few hours south. He could use a road trip.
+++
You didn’t tell anyone about your night with Aaron. You couldn’t. You were barely able to make sense of it in your own mind, let alone speak it out loud to someone else.
The way he handled you. It was different from before. His hands had changed.
You took the day off from work, telling Rossi you just needed to sleep. The last case exhausted you; that was all. He tried to press, but eventually let you go.
But you didn’t sleep. You slept after having sex with Aaron because you were past the point of exhaustion. You had no choice but to sleep, but now you weren’t tired enough. Your mind was still awake and running wild with questions.
You replayed the night over in your brain until it felt like it didn’t happen at all.
You laid on your couch, stared at the ceiling, and dozed. Remade the night in your head until it was a fantasy of what could’ve been if he had only let you in and let you love him in the first place.
Your phone rang and you wished it was Aaron, but knew it wasn’t. It was Penelope.
You rolled over, and let your voicemail answer.
+++
Hotch made good time driving south to North Carolina. Between energy drinks and chewing Excedrin, he barely needed to sleep at all. The four-hour drive breezed past, and soon he was sitting outside the unsub’s neighborhood, waiting.
He thought too much about you. Turning the radio as loud as it went did nothing to fight off the images of you that flashed before his eyes.
The previous version of him, before Foyet, would have called you instead of repeatedly searching the radio for something interesting. He always ended back up on the news, wanting to hear what was going on locally. Sometimes he checked national news, and sometimes he checked specific forums that he knew to watch, just in case he appeared there.
His stomach growled, and he cussed at it. He knew he should’ve eaten something before parking, but he couldn’t get this unsub off his mind. He’d eat after he handled this unsub. That was a deal he made for himself. He’d be hungry after this, and he needed to drive back to Quantico tonight, too. He couldn’t stay.
It took a few hours until Hotch saw the unsub’s car returning to the neighborhood. Hotch waited a few minutes before jumping out of his car and following.
With his gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans on his back, he knew what he had to do. He didn’t have as much time as he wanted with this unsub, but that was fine. He walked right up to his house, bypassing the open garage to ring the doorbell out front. The unsub answered with a confused greeting.
The ruse worked all the same. The unsub let Hotch into his house willingly, asking “Gideon” how he had been. How nice it was of him to check in. How the unsub had his life turned around.
Hotch waited until the unsub bent to grab drinks from the fridge. He shot him twice in the back of the head and neck, and left him there. The unsub lived alone, but someone would find out eventually. It wasn’t Hotch’s business.
He closed the garage and shut the lights off before he left. No one was home, after all.
+++
You went back to work after one day off. You needed to get off the couch and out of your apartment before you drove yourself insane with overthinking.
What the hell were you thinking? Going to Hotch’s place and going inside like that. Letting him do those things to you. No one could ever know about that. You knew that much. It had to remain a secret. You weren’t supposed to have any contact with him. You knew that, and you broke that rule. Foolishly. You knew better than that.
Penelope was the first to ask how you were doing. You swore she had special senses or something because she was waiting for you when you got off the elevator.
“Hey,” she called out, walking beside you, her heels clicking on the floor. “Rossi said you stayed home yesterday out of the blue. I tried calling you but it went to voicemail.”
“I know, I’m sorry Pen,” you tried to smile. “I was just really tired so I didn’t look at my phone or anything.”
“Okay,” she frowned. “Can I do anything? Tea? Do you want to get lunch together?”
“Sure,” you conceded, smiling genuinely then. “I’d love that. Let’s do lunch.”
“Awesome,” she grinned, her pink lipgloss sparkling with her smile. “I’m off to the cave. Come see me if you need anything, okay?”
You nodded. “I will, thanks Pen.”
Her concern worried you more than anything. You didn’t think you were that obvious with how bad you were doing. You thought you were hiding it well, but then again, there was never any hiding when working with profilers. Even Pen, who didn’t profile every day, still knew her friends extremely well and knew when something was wrong.
Everyone else knew, too. The second you walked through the glass doors, Emily was up and giving you a hug, asking if you felt any better. JJ followed and rubbed your back, asking if you wanted any coffee. Derek came over and gave a hug as well, and his stern look of worry. Reid waved from his desk and said it was glad to see you back.
“I was gone for one day,” you laughed, putting your purse down on your desk and plopping yourself down in your chair.
“It was kinda out of nowhere though,” Reid piped up. “Were you sick?”
“Sure,” you shrugged. “I was just exhausted, I think. I slept the whole day.”
“Were you avoiding something?”
“Reid,” Morgan warned. “Relax.”
Spencer grimaced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you shook your head. “Maybe I was, who knows? I’ll bring it up to my therapist,” you grinned, but none of them laughed. You cleared your throat. They stared back at you. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Nothing,” Emily said, shrugging, letting out a weak chuckle. “We all need therapists after the few months we’ve had.”
“You guys don’t have therapists?” Reid asked.
That got everyone to laugh.
“Oh, uh, by the way,” Morgan nudged your shoulder. “Rossi wanted to see you at some point today.”
“Okay…” He probably just wanted to check on you, but still, it unnerved you. “I’ll go get that over with now.”
You hauled yourself up and skipped up the stairs, bypassing Hotch’s office. You tried not to look at the door too long, but it startled you, seeing it empty. You kept walking, knocking on Rossi’s door and listening for him to invite you inside.
He opened the door for you, looking relieved to see that it was you. “Hey, come on in.”
You were welcomed inside and sat down on Rossi’s couch, and he took the seat next to you. You thought this meant that the conversation was a friendly check-in, but it verged away from friendly very quickly.
“Did you visit Aaron?”
You tried to keep your shock under control. “I did.”
“How was he?” Rossi asked.
“Good,” you lied. “I gave him some flowers. They seemed to cheer him up.”
“That’s good,” Rossi smiled softly. “How are you?”
“Fine,” you lied again, this time shrugging. “Moving on from it. Thanks for letting me have yesterday off. Resting really helped.”
Rossi waved his hand. “No need to thank me, but I’m glad it helped.” He paused, exhaling. “Strauss is worried about Aaron.”
“We all are,” you shrugged. “He’s been through a lot.”
“Yes, he has,” Rossi agreed. “But she’s…more concerned than we are, I’ll say. I was wondering if you wanted to shed some light on how he’s doing.”
“I mean, he…” You trailed off, fiddling with your hands. Should you say something? You didn’t care about betraying him. You did that when you first contacted Strauss. Betraying him wasn’t the issue.
It was admitting to yourself that something was wrong with him. Deeply. Enough to cause serious, genuine worry. Enough to intervene.
But what proof of that did you have? That he fucked you and kicked you out? You were not going to disclose that information, especially not to Rossi.
“He’s as good as you can expect him to be while grieving,” you finally said. “I think he’s fine.”
Rossi clearly did not believe you, but he let it go, and let you go back to your desk, which was completely fine with you.
You were saddled with paperwork that you didn’t do yesterday, and more because apparently new Use of Force reports are due. When are they not due?
Lunchtime rolled around slowly, and you sprung up from your desk like you were on a trampoline when Penelope came waltzing through the doors.
She laughed when she saw you were already standing. “Normally I have to pry you from your desk.”
“I’m starving,” you said. It was a half-lie. “Where are we eating?”
“Wherever you want,” she linked your arm in hers. “Anyone else want to join? JJ?”
JJ walked past briskly, shaking her head. “Can’t, sorry, sorting through some files.” She bounded the steps to the second level, pausing to lean over the railing. “I’ve misplaced a couple-- It’s not a big deal, they’re probably just buried under everything, but still. Thanks though.” She breezed into Rossi’s office and shut the door.
Pen blinked. “Okay.” She gave you a weird look and you returned it. “Any other takers?”
Reid was mid-bite of his usual PB&J, and Emily and Morgan were on the phone, shaking their heads.
You and Pen left the BAU alone, preparing for an ultimate girls lunch. Complete with food and gossip. Except, you weren’t in the mood for gossip because all Pen wanted to know about was Hotch. Before you even ordered food, Pen started with the questions.
“Okay, obviously something happened, because you never go off the grid like that.” She leaned forward on the table. “What happened yesterday?”
“Nothing happened,” you insisted. Because technically, it was the day before. Not that that even remotely mattered. “I was just tired.”
“Did you go see Hotch?”
Your eyes widened. “Penelope.”
“I knew it!” she cheered quietly. “I knew it! You two were too close when he was here, I knew you’d keep in touch.”
“We haven’t exactly kept in touch,” you replied. “He refuses to speak to me.” Technically the truth. He did refuse to speak to you. He might have fucked you, but there was no talking involved. Barely any.
“What?”
“I went to his apartment with some flowers to apologize and wish him well but he… He refused to speak to me,” you shrugged. “I mean, he took the flowers, but we barely spoke, and I left.” You kept your eyes down on your drink, swirling your straw, hoping you came across as ashamed and not a liar.
“Oh, babe…” Penelope rested her hand on yours. “I am so sorry. You really liked him.”
“I did,” you exhaled through a small laugh, then shook your head. “But it’s fine. Other fish in the sea, and all that. Not to mention,” you lowered your voice, “he’s my boss, Pen. What was I thinking?”
“Uh, you were thinking how hot it is,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper, but she was grinning. “It’s fine to have fantasies! Don’t beat yourself up over it.” She squeezed your hand.
“Thanks, Pen,” you smiled, squeezing her hand back. “Now. What are we thinking for food? I really am starving.”
+++
Hotch was just about to head out to find another unsub when his phone began ringing. He sighed heavily and spun around, hoping it wasn’t you, because the last thing he wanted to do was deal with you any more. It turned out to be Rossi.
“Hey Dave,” Aaron made sure to smile as he said it, hoping that translated in his tone. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much,” Rossi sighed. “The usual. What are you up to?”
Aaron set his duffle bag down gently. Rossi never called for no reason. “Was just about to head on a short run,” Aaron said.
“Running a lot lately, huh?”
“Yeah,” Aaron chuckled, suddenly worried. Was Rossi onto him? How was he supposed to know? He felt ridiculous, being a profiler and unable to tell what Rossi was feeling. “It’s been good for uh…coping, you know. I don’t know,” he laughed. “I probably sound stupid.”
“Not at all,” Dave replied. “I won’t keep you. I just had one quick question.”
There it is. “Sure, what is it?”
“JJ is missing a few files, and I was just wondering if you might have them. The Holman case, the Goodman case, and a few others.”
“Holman?” Hotch asked. “Wasn’t he killed a few days ago?” Only a few days ago…what happened to the time?
“Yeah,” Dave sighed. “Anyway, take a look through your office after your run and give me a call, deal?”
“Deal,” Hotch said, smiling again. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“See ya,” Dave replied. “Don’t give yourself a stroke.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hotch laughed. “Bye.”
Hotch sighed, setting his phone on the counter. This next unsub had to wait until the next day. Hotch had files to burn.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#unsub!hotch x fem!reader#unsub!hotch#unsub!hotch x reader#unsub!hotch x you#hotch x fem!reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner fanfic#hotch fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#Devil's Backbone#criminal minds
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wip wednesday <3 :)
hello it is 12:41am and officially wednesday for me and i can feel in my bones that today will be a day of roop rest. i am feeling the beginnings of a sickness coming on and i want to scream. if you don't see me reblogging these please forgive me, i am so so sorry. <3
here's a snip from a new wip with no real title. the doc is called "doomed romance" and it's my very loose a star is born x orpheus and eurydice au. it will be tragic angst with no hea because i am feeling many turbulent emotions rn personally and this helps me channel it :) if you poke me hard enough I'll spill the whole plot to you in discord DMs (tumblr bans me when i message more than 2 people jafksdjflsf). so there's that!
i shared this already in an ask for the wip title game but who cares. here you go! :)
Alex got his very first guitar from his father, a gift for his seventh birthday, along with private lessons. Always the performer, always the charmer. Flitting around, singing made up songs about the beauty of dinner rolls on Thanksgiving. Humming tunes he wrote to convince his mother to let him stay the night with friends, to stay up a little longer, to experience the world a little more. Music became his escape, lilting melodies his release, mesmerizing harmonies a reprieve.
When Oscar and Ellen divorced, Oscar fled to the coast, leaving Alex alone at fourteen with his guitar and a memory of love that wasn’t meant to last. Alex played his guitar until his fingers bled, alone in his room, suffocating from emotions he couldn’t put into words, leaking into his music.
He penned his first EP a year later, eyes wild from racing thoughts and imagination and pain and fear. He posted a video on TikTok on a random evening and woke up to overnight viral fame.
No one could resist his soulful brown eyes, framed by doe lashes, sitting pretty on a face one could only describe as biblically gorgeous. Dark curls, a chin dimple, the cheekiest smile—Alex was marketable perfection in the sweetest package.
But fame comes at a heavy cost.
xoxo roop
+ no pressure tags under the cut:
@kiwiana-writes @getmehighonmagic @tintagel-or-cockleshells @cricketnationrise @sherryvalli @dumbpeachjuice @littlemisskittentoes @ssmtskw @tailsbeth-writes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @leojfitz @songliili @eusuntgratie @wordsofhoneydew @heybuddy-drabbles @happiness-of-the-pursuit @ninzied @bigassbowlingballhead @anincompletelist @rockyroadkylers @inexplicablymine @myheartalivewrites @suseagull04 @sparklepocalypse @onward--upward @nocoastposts @user-anakin @matherines @celeritas2997 @gayrootvegetable @affectionatelyrs @tinyarmedtrex @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @14carrotghoul @orchidscript @rmd-writes @dustratcentral @magicandarchery @leaves-of-laurelin @msmarvelouswinchester @whimsymanaged @tintagel-or-cockleshells @zwiazdziarka @indomitable-love @cha-melodius @anchoredarchangel @theprinceandagcd @gay-flyboys @read-and-write-
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underneath (silver linings are found)
A03 version
tags:
Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Lilith Magne | Morningstar, Post-Canon, Feel-good, Protective Charlie Magne, Lilith Magne is a Bitch, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lilith Magne owns Alastor's Soul, owned actually. past tense, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), look. hes technically a bit ooc but its also 2 years post canon SUE ME, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel)
note: uhh hope this is good!! my first hazbin fic lol!!! if you like this feel free to send me writing or art requests in the comments, or on my tumblr, @queer-here-and-in-fear!!
-
It had been exactly two months and three days since Alastor had last grinned, and Charlie was starting to lose it a little. She wasn’t the only one in the hotel to notice, no, Vaggie had been giving Alastor weird looks since it started, and Angel Dust had been joking about it up and down, but nobody else was concerned. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, but so much had been happening, Charlie couldn’t really blame them for not asking.
But someone had too.
It wasn’t like there was any reason for this, at least none that Charlie could figure out. Everything was better now. Sir Pentious wasn’t dead, he was ok (even if he didn’t remember them - because they could fix that, they couldn’t fix death), they had managed to push back extermination while heavens court deliberated, and Alastor wasn’t stuck in the deal with Charlies mom anymore, he was free. So everything was supposed to better.
.. But something was still wrong, because Alastor still wasn’t grinning. He was still smiling, sure, but it didn’t reach his eyes and compared to the big wide grin Charlie had grown to know over the past two years; it wasn’t much. He was still Alastor, Charlie knew it wasn’t all just faked because of the deal with her mom, but.. it was odd.
She had tried her best to ignore it, really, she had tried so hard. Alastor warned them (in what she could swear was meant to be a moment of vulnerability, holy shit her hotel was working) that he was gonna need some time to get better. That was okay by Charlie, she knew a solid half of that deal was just meaningless torture on her moms part (which was not messing with her head, thank you very much.)
It had been two months, though, and Alastor had said he felt mostly better now, and he still wasn’t grinning. Charlie wasn’t sure the last time she had seen his teeth where he wasn’t eating or baring them. It was a stupid, small thing to get caught up when everything was better and they were working to make it even more better, but she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was going to go Nifty levels of insane if she keeped trying to ignore it.
So, after a long long hour of pacing and ringing her hands and running her fingers through her hair and ranting aloud to herself (she wasn’t sure she could thank her dad enough for the sound proof room), she slid out of her room and into the lobby. She had a good feeling Alastor was in there, and it took about two steps into the lobby and a quick look around to prove herself right.
“Oh, Charlie, my dear! Any reason why you’re up at the devils hour?” Alastor looked up from his book and asked with a small little smile, the hum of radio static steady under his voice, and Charlie felt her heart ease a bit up at the soft sight. Right.
There was another reason she hadn’t asked yet, other than her anxiety - Alastor was genuinely getting better. She could see it now as Alastor placed his book on the table and shifted to the side to give her room to sit down. He looked, and acted, genuinely better.
All his movements felt lighter now; less deliberate, more genuine. She was pretty sure Husk had said it best one night when they were talking over whisky. (“I damn knew somethin’ was wrong with the bastard when he came back. He was all tight strung and quick spoke - wasn’t like that before. I swear, I thought he had been a professional actor past seven years, he did nothing naturally! Feels more normal now, and I’m damn glad for it.”)
“Just a bit antsy,” she answered with a smile she was pretty sure held her painfully obvious anxiety. She slid into the spot Alastor had made for her and quickly pulled her ankles up to sit criss-cross, her hands running over her legs and her eyes, for the moment, glued to her lap. She knew her anxious tells were painfully obvious, but she was pretty sure trying to act normal would make her combust. After a second, her gaze drifted back up to Alastor, “what about you?”
“I’m doing just splendid darling!” He answered with an ease that soothed Charlie a bit. It was.. nicer to hear him speak now, knowing that every word was of his free will. Even if he was lying, at least he was choosing to lie. That had to count for something. “Say, Charlie, what has you oh so antsy at this witching hour?”
“I just,” she cut herself off and took a deep breath before looking back to Alastor, and explaining, “ok, so - I know a lot has changed and a lot is changing and I’m ok with that, of course I am! And if you don’t want to answer that’s completely fine, no bad blood - and no matter what you do answer, if you even choose too - I won’t be mad or anything. I just - I have a question. For you.”
Alastor blinked, giving her a blank stare for a moment as he processed the ramble. After a moment though, he gave Charlie another of his too small smiles and a clapped a hand on to her shoulder. “Well, ask away my dear! No need to leave me or yourself waiting any longer now.” He said, giving her an expectant look.
It took Charlie another five seconds of painfully staring at her lap before the words wouldn’t be held in anymore, and the whole question came tumbling out so fast Charlie was pretty sure it counted as one word- “why haven’t you been grinning at all?”
It took about another two seconds of no answer until Charlie was rambling again, the words spilling out before she could really stop them. “I mean, it’s not like you have to, of course not! I would never make you do anything you don’t want too, I’m not like my mom, I’m just.. concerned, I guess. You used to grin all the time and now you don’t and-”
Alastor cleared his throat and Charlie snapped her head up so fast she vaguely worried she was going to give herself a neck injury. “I take no offense to the question, Charlie,” he started, “and my will is not so easily swayed that I will change my behavior just because of a simple question you asked.”
“Right, right, of course,” Charlie said, hands still ringing in her lap as she practically brimmed with anxiety.
There was another uncomfortable silence before Alastor started speaking again. Just a year or two ago Charlie would’ve called herself stupid for even thinking it, but now she could recognize the furrow to his brow as nervousness. “I will answer your question. I just.. would like to give some context first. Charlie, do you know how your mother could be cruel?”
Charlie did. She couldn’t unknow it, because it all made her sick. The same women who preached about being their to impower demon kind could torture one of them, needlessly. She fucking sowed his mouth half shut instead of just making a vocal deal about it like a normal person to- to fucking what, prove a point? Alastor had been cooperating, he hadn’t done anything, and she fucking hurt him for fun while playing at being an angel-
It was only when Alastor’s gentle hand tapped against the point of her horn she realized she had horns to be tapped, and she cleared her throat with embarrassment. “I’ll take that for a yes,” Alastor started, a small bit of brimming affection in his tone, “there was.. one more incident of that I haven’t brought up yet.”
The words already set a chill to Charlies spine and her mind racing, a million god awful and painful to think about possibilities running through her head, but Alastor’s next question made her blood run cold. “Do you remember a single time I wasn’t grinning before the deal was broken?”
Charlie.. Charlie couldn’t, could she? That was why she was so concerned about his lack of teeth baring in the first place, it was so normal that the loss of it sent her mind spinning. But now that she thought to it, the dates lining up perfectly - oh. She was the last to realize, wasn’t she.
“... No. You couldn’t stop grinning, could you?” She whispered with mounting horror.
Alastor gave a small nod. “That is true.”
Charlie suddenly threw herself back on the couch, groaning with painful frustration and hiding her face in her hands. “Of course you didn’t want to grin while crying! Shit, how didn’t I realize it earlier? I- fuck, I could’ve done something, I could’ve helped you.”
Alastor blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. Hesitantly, he reached down with a comforting hand, lightly patting her shoulder. “There there, my demon belle. It is no bad blood you didn’t get me out earlier - I’m out now, am I not? As well, it might’ve been.. for the best, that the deal stayed as it was for a while. Even if it was terribly unpleasant.”
That caught Charlies attention as she sat up again, looking over to Alastor with pure, unmarred confusion covering her face. “.. What do you mean it’s for the better the deal stayed in place? The deal nearly got you killed, like.. twice!” She said, waving her hands around with frustration.
“..I’ll concede, it is true that the deal did cause me great detriment,” Alastor said, before continuing, “however - it wasn’t all bad. I would’ve never came to the hotel if your mother didn’t force me too.” He pointed out with a small smile on his lips, “I would’ve never met Vagatha, or Angel Dust, or our dear Sir Repentious, or even-” he reached down, suddenly tapping Charlie on the nose, “you, my dear.”
Charlie laughed softly before turning back around again, guilt still brimming under her voice. “Sure, I guess, but you should have never been forced to stay. I wanted that to be a choice, y’know, and you, my co-host, were forced and I didn’t even know. It just.. it bothers me.”
“Well, even if the situation was forced, my affection wasn’t,” Alastor held up one finger to stop Charlie from contesting him, “I know it wasn’t, because for a long long time before you freed me, I had resentment building.” Charlie blinked, staring up at him with surprise.
“I wanted to get my just-deserts, my bloody vengeance in glorious fashion once my wings were unclipped - however, after so long of having only you as a symbol of your mother, I missed sight of who was at fault,” Charlie listened, vaguely recognizing the emotion in his voice as guilt. “I wanted to get vengeance upon you, even when I was more than aware you weren’t at fault.”
“However, over time, that rage faded - not for your mother, of course, but for you. After so many nights of you healing wounds and helping souls and showing me kindness, even as I loudly detested everything you stood for with a grin on my face, I realized that you weren’t the one to blame. So, really, it was for the best.”
Charlie blinked up at him, before slowing leaning over and resting her head on Alastor’s shoulder, taking in the warm and familiar silence of the hotel lobby.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
#nox text posts#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor#alastor the radio demon#charlie morningstar#hazbin alastor#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie magne#the radio demon
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