#there are so many fictional men who could do ANYTHING to me if they were real
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#watching hazbin hotel again and mmmmmmmm#vox. i need him#his voice when he gets mad. and hjs fucking EYE#ugh. i need that man inside me#i need him to rail me#there are so many fictional men who could do ANYTHING to me if they were real#hes is very much one of them
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✮ enflame ✮
TW: bada being too fine for her own good, a little bit of possessive!bada, lots of protective!bada, cold!bada (to anyone who isn't you), super brief mentions of violence, bada having beef w your bodyguard, pushy men, btw the picture to the farthest right is purely for aesthetics and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!!
SUMMARY: you manage to tear bada away from her work for an evening of shopping, where the soft spot she has for you is unveiled.
part iii. bloody knuckles
WC: 2.9k
A/N: read this for more background on this au. this is not exactly a part two to the headcanons but i got this idea out of nowhere so yeahhh
DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada's actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!
From the moment Bada arose from her slumber, she sensed that her day would be draining. Usually, waking up before the sun had the chance to peak above the horizon wasn't difficult for her—so many years of doing so had made sleep fatigue all too familiar. However, last night, she stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning, something she typically tried to avoid.
So when her body starts to naturally wake up only a few hours later, she groans loudly into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and mentally cursing her past self for staying up so late.
Although all she wants is to stay in bed more than anything, she forces herself to rise from her plush king-sized bed and tosses the warm sheets aside.
Briefly, she turns around to gaze at the spot where she had just been lying when a thought strikes her. You must be asleep in your own bedroom. Curled up in a similar, large bed, a pocket of heat cradling your figure while your chest slowly rises and falls. Your eyes must be tightly shut, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to remain asleep despite the rays of sunlight that will soon begin to peek through your curtains. Your soft lips must be pursed together. Your lips...
Bada wishes you both shared the same bed. She wishes she hadn't been so courteous to buy you a new bed, comfortable sheets, and all the amenities you needed when you first arrived. She wishes instead that you were lying in her bed. She wishes she could wrap her arms around you, and pull you close whilst you slept. She wishes she could foster a beautiful heat between your two bodies. She wishes she could run her fingers across your skin--
Bada shakes her head, sighs loudly, and turns away sharply from her bed. She rubs her eyes as she makes her way over to her dresser, mumbling berating words under her breath for thinking of you in such a way. It's not appropriate and beyond that, those types of thoughts lead to feelings, which she does not--cannot have for you.
Bada's day seems to worsen after dressing herself in her usual attire, a freshly ironed black suit and slacks. The fabric touches her uncomfortably, and still feeling the edges of sleep mar her vision, everything is suddenly bothering her.
But the final nail in the coffin is when Lusher, one of Bebe's most trusted mafia members, walks into her office hours later, carrying a tray of breakfast.
Immediately looking up from the papers in front of her, Bada expects to see your lovely face greet her, but is met with Lusher's cheeky expression instead. She tries not to display her palpable disappointment, but concealing her feelings has never quite been her strong suit. Her mother had told her this many times when she was younger.
"Don't jump out of your seat in excitement, now." Lusher jokes, placing the breakfast tray on the desk.
Bada's lips tighten into a firm, thin line as she stares down at the food, feeling her hunger quickly escape her. "Thanks."
"I know I'm not who you wanted to see, but I can't lie, your disappointment hurts me." Lusher moves a hand to her chest, acting like she'd been wounded.
Bada sighs, shaking her head. "Why isn't she here this morning?"
"Still in bed, apparently." Lusher clasps her hands behind her back. "We found her asleep on the couches late last night. She must have been waiting for you to leave your office so she could wish you a good night, but ended up falling asleep out of exhaustion."
The butterflies that dance in Bada's stomach internally, are a stark contrast to the disapproving expression she wears externally. "I've told her many times not to wait up for me. It's not healthy to be staying up so late."
Lusher sighs dramatically. "You're telling me. How many times have I asked you to head to bed earlier?"
"That's different." Bada denies while picking up her golden ink pen and continuing to write. "I have work to do. Waiting so late into the morning just to wish me a good night is..."
"Sweet? Incredibly kind, and definitely a testament to how endearing your fiancée is?"
Bada clicks her tongue in annoyance. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have something better to do than bothering me?"
"You know there's nothing I like more than bothering you." Lusher shoots back with a sly smile.
Bada tried to continue working, she really did. She attempted to push through filling out papers, even though her wrist was screaming at her to take a break. However, come midday, she was already fed up.
Ruffling her hair and groaning loudly, Bada stands up from her table, the chair she'd been sitting out whining loudly against the floor. She wastes no time in shuffling to the door, grabbing the handle, and pulling it open.
Right when she does, she catches a flash of your figure walking down the hall toward her, your bodyguard only a few paces behind you. As her gaze connected with yours, she felt as if the world transformed, shifting from monochrome sketches to vibrant watercolor paintings
"Oh." You speak first, an easy smile finding your lips. "Good afternoon, Bada."
"Good afternoon." She greets back, trying her damnedest not to sound overjoyed at your presence. "Were you coming to see me?"
"I was." You nod. "I just wanted to let you know I'm planning on going to the mall."
"Are you now?" Bada says absentmindedly, her hand coming up to clutch at her tie and loosen it. The fabric suddenly feels much too tight around her neck.
"Yes..." You trail off, your eyes taking in how Bada's pale and lithe fingers grab at her tie and jostle it around, making it dangle a bit messily across her collarbones. Such a simple action should not be so attractive, no--it shouldn't. It's really ridiculous how easy it is for your fiancée to be so naturally alluring.
"That sounds nice." She hums. "Are you looking to buy something in particular?"
"No, not really." You shake your head. "I'm really just going to look around, and not stay at home all day."
Home. Bada's heart warms at you calling the mansion you both reside in your home. Although it technically is, it's different for you to perceive it as such. It means you feel comfortable here, with her--living with her--
"You should come with me." Your voice brings Bada out of her stupor, her eyes immediately finding yours.
Her mouth opens and closes dumbly, a clear look of shock painted across her face. She tries to quickly gather her bearings, half-heartedly muttering out, "I--I wish I could, but I have a lot of work to do--"
"Bada, all you do is work," you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. She has to force herself not to think about how cute you look doing so. "You deserve to have some downtime. Even if it is only for a few hours."
She stands there, still a bit shell-shocked, staring at you before her eyes shift to the figure behind you, finding your bodyguard, who is trying very hard to conceal her amused smile behind a shaky hand.
Bada's gaze turns icy as she eyes down your bodyguard, prompting the subordinate to immediately turn away and dispel her smile. "All right. I'll come with you."
"Wait, really?" You awe, your eyes going wide and your smile growing. "I didn't think you'd actually say yes."
"Well, you're right. I do need a break. At the rate I'm working at now, I'll never do anything productive by the end of the day." Bada admits with a tired smile. "Are you ready to go, then?"
"Yes." You begin to nod, but your smile slowly turns into a frown. "But you should change into different clothing."
For the second time that day, Bada is left surprised by your boldness. "Change? Why?"
"Don't you want to wear something other than a suit for once?" You ask innocently. "It seems... stuffy to be in it all day."
"Stuffy." She laughs breathily. "I guess you're right." Bada looks between you and your bodyguard. "Will you be all right to wait for me?"
"Of course." You smile.
"Great." She smiles back.
When Bada comes back, she isn't wearing her usual black suit. And although you'd been the one to suggest it, you're not quite ready for how amazing she looks in casual clothing.
A black leather jacket is draped over her shoulders, with slick white lines running down the sleeves and across the chest. She has paired the jacket with matching black leather pants and a black shirt.
In that moment, you want to scream at whatever higher power exists for making your fiancée so unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to act normal around her when her mere presence makes you hot below the collar?
Well, despite your internal struggles you give her a compliment before you're off to the mall, hopping into a sleek black sports car and speed away.
Your first destination in the large mall is a relatively luxurious clothing store. You can't lie; you had wanted to go into the store since you passed it on one of your trips to the mall without Bada, but you were too intimidated to enter. However, now, with her by your side, you feel much more comfortable stepping into the expensive store.
Approaching the door, your bodyguard begins to step forward, about to open the door for you like she always does, but Bada is quicker. She grabs onto the handle and opens the door, stepping aside to make room for you to walk in.
You look at her and smile while mumbling a soft thank you, to which she gives you a small smile back and nods. Your bodyguard begins to walk in after you, but again Bada is faster and enters the store, letting the door swing closed behind her. It almost hits your bodyguard in the face, making her flinch back and sigh.
"Keep a look out from there," Bada tells her sternly through the glass doors.
"Yes, Boss," your bodyguard begrudgingly mumbles back, understanding that this is payback for teasing your fiancée earlier.
Bada turns back around, her eyes easily finding you in the small crowd of people. You're looking around the store with wide eyes, a smile gracing your lips as you observe the embellished clothing around you. She smiles fondly to herself, finding every expression of yours much too cute for your own good.
However, before she can make her way to you, the familiar sound of a voice greets her from behind. Turning around, she finds In-Su, one of her business partners and the owner of the clothing store. Greeting him back, an air of professionalism immediately envelops her as she begins to engage in conversation with him
Meanwhile, you're in your own personal heaven. The clothing you've been browsing is exactly your style, and despite the high prices, you know you can afford it all, thanks to the black credit card Bada had gifted you.
A few minutes later, your hands are already starting to get full as you reach to pull another article of clothing from the rack when you suddenly feel a firm force push into your side, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. making you lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. Thankfully, you manage to steady yourself before you do, huffing while turning to your right to see what--or more accurately who--had bumped into you.
"Excuse me." A well-dressed man stands a few feet away from you, his lips forming a snobbish frown.
Despite your irritation, you instinctively apologize. "Oh, sorry--"
"It's fine." He cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. "You should be careful where you stand."
Internally, you scoff at the man, but externally, you only mumble another half-hearted apology before turning away and walking down another aisle.
"Have I seen you before?" The man follows after you.
"I don't think so." You answer back flatly, trying to ignore him and busy yourself by flipping through pairs of jackets.
"I swear I've seen you before. I never forget the face of a beautiful woman."
This time, you're unable to control your expression and outwardly cringe. Is this random man who bumped into you flirting with you right now? After acting so rude?
You say nothing to him in response, choosing to completely ignore him instead.
"You know, when someone compliments you, it's common courtesy to say thank you."
Now you're starting to get increasingly anxious. You don't feel brave enough to confront the man, but he doesn't seem to understand that you're not interested and clearly uncomfortable with his advances.
Taking your silence in offense, the man scowls before grabbing your wrist rather roughly, making you drop all the clothing you'd been holding, and twists you around to face him.
You gasp at his painful hold, attempting to break away from him but unable to due to the sheer strength of his grip. "Let me--" you begin, but the words die in your mouth upon seeing someone standing behind him.
The man, who had been staring you down, notices the shift in your expression and suddenly becomes aware of a very strong presence behind him. He turns around, still gripping your wrist, and comes face to face with a scarily calm Bada Lee.
"Do you need something?" He snaps at her dumbly.
Bada stares down at him with steely eyes, her expression so devoid of emotion you're almost terrified for him. "I believe I should be asking you that question. Is there a reason why you're touching my fiancée?"
The man looks between you and Bada, scoffing disapprovingly. "Tch, she didn't tell me she was engaged."
"Even if she wasn't, in what world would it be appropriate to touch a woman who clearly isn't interested in your pathetic advances like that?" She asks rhetorically, her voice rising with every syllable. Clearly, her anger was getting to her.
The man grits his teeth, feeling his ego bruise because not only is Bada embarrassing him, but she's also easily intimidating him with her presence. "Hey, just who do you think you are?" He raises his voice to match hers.
"I think the real question is," Bada takes a step closer, leaving hardly any space between her and him, "who the fuck do you think you are?"
In that moment, the man's entire demeanor shifts. He turns to look around the store, finding every shopper, worker, and even the store owner staring back at him, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes set into firm glares. Some of them have their hands in their pockets or are grabbing something hidden next to them. His face pales, and looking back at Bada, her face starts to become familiar. He hadn't recognized her out of her normal formal attire, but now--
He gulps, quickly letting go of your wrist like your skin burned him and steps away from you both, his posture shrinking. He starts to make his way toward the exit, attempting to ignore the stares of everyone in the store but is stopped before he can make it out.
"And where do you think you're going?" Bada's hardened voice echoes through the store, making the man freeze in his spot, his entire body going rigid.
Bada's footsteps slowly approach him from behind again and stop just shy of him.
"You made her drop her clothing."
The man turns around, avoiding eye contact with Bada and finding your eyes instead. He's about to mumble an apology when she speaks up again.
"Pick it up." She demands flatly.
The man stays still in his spot, shocked and embarrassed. But clearly, he didn't move fast enough for Bada's liking, because he feels himself get shoved in your direction, almost falling onto his face.
"Do it. Now." She says, her voice bordering on yelling.
Immediately, the man throws himself onto the floor, scrambling to pick up every article of clothing he made you drop. He does so as quickly as possible, then stands up, about to pass you the clothing, when he feels Bada's unwavering gaze bore into him and decides it's in his best interest not to touch you anymore, so he carefully drapes the clothes across your arms.
He turns back to face Bada, approaching her with a cold sweat.
"Hold on." She stops him yet again. "You bumped into her, didn't you?"
"I--" He tries to explain himself but is cut off.
"Apologize."
This time, the man wastes no time in fulfilling her demands. He turns to you, apologizing profusely while shaking like a leaf. You're unable to even think about accepting his apologies before he practically runs to the store doors, throws them open, trying to leave the mall. But as always, Bada is ten steps ahead.
She nods at your bodyguard, who grabs onto the man's suit with little effort, turns him around, and punches him straight in the gut.
Bada then steps in front of you, blocking you from seeing what your bodyguard is doing to the man. Her hands grab the clothing from your arms, relieving you of their weight before slinging them across her right shoulder. She then gently holds your wrist up to her eyes, the ice behind them shifting to a warm and caring glow.
"Does it hurt?" She asks softly.
You feel your body turn to mush at the attention she gives you. "A little."
Bada sighs, leans in, and places her soft lips against your wrist, kissing it with a reverence and sweetness everyone besides you is surprised to see.
It's clear to everyone that the ice around Bada's heart melts only for you.
enflame: to excite to excessive or uncontrollable action or feeling
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I am mad
Yup!
Bro shut up, she is white - being Latina is not a race, is an not the same as color skin. And she is a second generation immigrant too. So like... this isn't like a Salvadorian person doing a cartoon, is a daughter of Salvadorians... That grew in the USA. Being Latino doesn't mean you aren't white, you can be any race and Latino. Still wouldn't make up for the lack of representation or the existing racism. In the piece of media that's "diverse".
Salvadorian is not a race, LMAO. That's crazy- you think someone from Argentina who is white, is not white cause of their nationality??? Being Latino and having that culture does not equal a race. It's in itself a racist thing. This Latino = Race is terrible, It also comes from the idea of the "You are not Latino because you are not brown", assuming all people from Latino America are brown by default. You know how much has that happen to me? -AND MANY OTHER PEOPLE.
(I'm Latino btw)
I already have an older post about it, but - you can really see the lack of diversity in the show a lot. (Will talk about it even more other day).
Again the main thing you get is MEN, hypersexual skinny queer men (cis). You won't get to see female characters being well written, thought all the season 1 and all the episodes we got rn of season 2. All characters are skinny and similar body types and repetitive design choices. Funny enough, shows that lack of human characters still have better race-coding that helluva. (and well in hazbin you'll get POC characters that are gray, lack all ethic features... even when they are humanoid. So that is great.)
Bro you could, you imagine a character being black and having different textured hair, and you go to hell... AND EVEN THO YOU ARE HUMANOID- your hair became straight and spiky, and you are now a light gray? If you build a world like that... it just seems like the perfect racist excuse to delete ethic features out a POC character because you don't want to draw them. "Not going to a single hint of their race/culture unless it revolves on their death"... If the character became a fucking coin with dot eyes, maybe (not really, shows with no human/humanoid characters still are capable to race-code their characters). But all of these characters are humanoid- why do none of them have their different characteristics? Also, this is about a real person in the real world choosing how to design a character.
This tweet also implies that a black character when they were a life they had ethic features, but lose them when they go to hell. Which is even more fucking stupid.
If a white person with straight hair goes to hell, and their hair remains straight (assuming it has nothing to do with their death), why wouldn't there be black people with textured hair? This is dumb. This goes back to the fucking thing of "No black people in fantasy media", In the same way, it's stupid for fantasy stories to revolve around white people characteristics in fictional species and people in that world- not including all the rest of diverse human characteristics POC people have it's crazy. The biggest problem here is why the fuck all Viv's sinners characters (main characters designed by her) that are supposed to black (or mixed like Alastor) have 0 characteristic. THEY ARE HUMANOID, THEY AREN'T EVEN ABSTRACT OR AN ANIMAL OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. She didn't want to draw that nor change designs, and wanted to justify the whole concept of Alastor even using Voodou.
HOW ARE ALL THE ANGELS THAT VIV WANTS TO BE BLACK (black voice actors specified, or are race specified) HAVE NOTHING??? LIKE HELLO THE 'I'm such a nice angel character girl' HAS SPIKY STRAIGHT HAIR??? SHE IS AN ANGEL AND BLACK, WHY DIDN'T YOU DID HER HAIR TO BE CLOUDS- It's THE EASIEST SHIT YOU COULD’VE DONE.
BOOM! A FUCKING TROLL FROM A KIDS MOVIE WITH DIFFERENT HAIR. BOOM! THE FUNK TROLLS ARE SO EXPLICITLY BLACK CODED.
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Bro, you know this whole thing of people with textured hair have to forcefully straighten their hair or wear wogs to a job... because people consider it ""Unprofessional"" cause racism? The erasure and discrimination of POC people and their features is a problem. That's why it is important to people represent all of those things:
(Marvel's Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur)
The only reason of why Alas tor is even mixed is purely cause Viv used the Voodou symbols because she thought they were creepy and edgy. It's sucks that all the angels and sinners that are supposed to be black have nothing.
#vivziepop critique#vivziepop critical#helluva boss criticism#helluva boss critique#helluva boss critical#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critique#anti vivziepop#antiblackness
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invades ur inbox again............ ur post abt the baby not being the yans inspired me, what if reader was pregnant but it was their baby ? :3
listen, i don't want kids, but there are some fictional men out there that give me baby fever like never before </3
Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, mentions of reader being pregnant and giving birth, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
Yandere!Pantalone would be thrilled but also a bit hesitant to have a kid. His position as a Harbinger makes him a high value target and thus you by association. He does his best, buying out all the best doctors he can find across Teyvat to watch over your pregnancy and ensure there are no complications. Anything you need or crave or ask for, he’ll have for you.
Pantalone sighed in relief as he entered the room, you had been quite restless these past few days, feet swelling to the point you couldn’t walk, but you had finally settled enough to lay down for a nap. The stress of pregnancy was tough on anyone and he did his best to help soothe the pains, help fulfill every craving, and reassure every worry. Everything he could do to help make things a little easier on you he wasted no time in completing. When it came for check ups and any other medical care, he made sure the best of the best were always readily available for you. He wanted to ensure nothing happened to you or your child, as not only was that the heir to his fortune, but a part of him growing in you. This child would tie you to him forever.
Yandere!Diluc while keeping calm on the outside would be absolutely freaking out on the inside. He doesn’t know how to be a father, he couldn’t even be a good brother! He’ll spend his free time reading up on first time parenting books, paying closer attention to the mothers who pass by with their kids as he tries to pick up on some subtle parenting tricks.
Diluc sighed as he absentmindedly wiped at the same glass he had been cleaning for the past twenty minutes. Just outside the tavern, right in view were a mother and her child. The child was throwing and fit in the middle of the walkway and the mother was trying to calm him. The noise wasn’t a problem, the walls of the tavern were pretty thick, it was just the thought that Diluc would be in that position one day soon. His own child pitching a fit over some small, ridiculous thing while he flounders about, desperately trying to find any solution to the incessant crying. Thinking back to his beloved, who was currently at home under strict bed rest orders, and he longed to see them. To lay beside them in bed, retelling all the bizarre things he’d seen out the window of the tavern today, discussing what kinds of parents they wanted to be and how they would handle it.
Yandere!Zhongli is thrilled, inside and out, to be a father. While he’s lived for many years and has been a role model to many, he’s never had a proper child of his own. He of course maintains a calm and level head, but you’ll see him visiting the shops in town more often, chatting with the older women about his soon-to-be child and asking advice.
Zhongli smiled at the older woman as he picked a few flower arrangements for you, being stuck inside the house all day could be so drab, he hoped to brighten your day up even if just a little. It was no secret around town anymore that the handsome gentleman was a father-in-waiting, and with everything he talked about with the lovely women who helped their husbands run stalls for many years, it was clear he had a good grasp on what to do. Zhongli was more than just an esteemed gentleman with stunning looks, he was an intelligent and strong partner, the perfect type to raise a child with. His darling boss Hu Tao even offered to give him reduced shifts for a few months when it got close to birth and after so that he could be there to help with the first few months.
#genshin x reader#genshin x male reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x male reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli x male reader#yandere zhongli x reader#yandere zhongli x male reader#pantalone x reader#pantalone x male reader#yandere pantalone x reader#yandere pantalone x male reader#diluc x reader#diluc x male reader#yandere diluc x reader#yandere diluc x male reader#yandere genshin#yandere diluc#yandere zhongli#yandere pantalone
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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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Dan and Phil, phandom expectations, the complexities of queer dynamics and how they are erased by people.
I'm going to start this by stating that this isn't directed towards anyone who makes jokes about things like "phivorce" or "our married dads" or fainting a bit (me too) over dan saying phil is a power bottom. It is also not to fault anyone for being young during 2009-2019 and not understanding boundaries or how badly you overstepped when you were a teen or younger, but about people who are still active in this community and have genuine expectations about Dan and Phil’s life and what they should be sharing with us.
For a long time, Dan and Phil's relationship has been romanticised and sexualised throughout many different mediums such as fanfics, tumblr blogs inspecting small movements and amounting them to intense theories and so on. Dan and Phil themselves have stated they don't have issues with fan fictions, and neither do I - however, overtime when people's basis for the fantasy of what dan and phil could do or could say have become distorted from reality (for some people within the fandom). Some examples would be, people's expectations on their sleeping situations, their sexual and romantic lives & the way that they would eventually "announce" their relationship.
But for me, the main issue has always ended up being the erasure of queer connections that tend to contradict what people expect from them. There is no basis with queer relationships for what they need to be, when two people find themselves in a queer relationship in any way, there's no expectation of the way it should play out. In heterosexual relationships, there is a worldwide accepted idea (which isn't fair, but has always been the assumed basis for along time) that it should be, dating, marriage, house and then children and so many different expectations of small things based on culture and country.
Queer couples don't have an outline and tend to be able to make their own.
The truth is, is that Dan and Phil will never fit into the heterosexual stereotypes people eagerly want from them, because they are two queer men. Queer relationships are unconventional fundamentally. Two people could be a couple and sleep in separate beds, never kiss and not engage in sexual acts together and still be a queer couple, they could also be married and sleep in the same bed but not be sexually involved or literally anything they choose, because there's no one telling them what to be. I won't make assumptions on what they are because this post is mainly about counteracting that , but all that I mean to say is that, every aspect of a queer relationship can just be decided by the two people, which tends to make for a relationship where things can be different from the normal concept of how we see heterosexual relationships displayed in media and in life. Queer people get to decide every small detail based on if they feel comfortable with those different things, instead of heterosexual relationships where a lot of the time people feel that there is a preconceived notion of how the relationship should play out.
There seems to be this agreement in the phandom that dan and phil haven't confirmed themselves fully to be dating, "but they are but aren't but are but aren't", and I think what people miss is that is what a queer relationship is like. No, dan and phil will most likely never make a video saying "we are married, this is the bed we sleep in together every night" and then kiss on camera, because why would anyone? They've said many times they are together, but people always crave more - because the way they say it isn't in some intensely straight on YouTube in your face manner, it's just casual - the same way its casual for anyone in a decade long queer relationship to not make a massive deal out of their relationship.
For a long time people have had a vision, due to imagine posts on Tumblr, fan fictions about it, and loads of other things, that it would be some grand announcement - that they are married and had a secret wedding and all of these over saturations of exceptions from two normal people who gave us the safe space and shared their lives with us. You will most likely always only receive dan agreeing that him and phil are 'just like a normal gay relationship', or describing themselves as "best friends, arch enemies, husbands, business partners, partners in crime, soulmates, just mates, who the fuck knows?'.
I think, for a lot of people who lived out their teenage or younger years of they lives reading, thinking or fantasising about dan and phil one day being out, the way it's occurred may have felt anticlimactic because of the high expectations of how someone would give out a really sensitive part of themselves to the world. To have lived in the thoughts that they would have made a big deal out of things, it can make the way they approach it seem disappointing in a way, to the point that people are still expecting an announcement about a marriage or at least their relationship some time soon - even though dan says he hates commitment (which can mean many different things, and people view what commitment is in various different ways), most gay couples don't tend to get married and phil's said how daunting having a wedding sounds in the past.
Dan and phil have an extremely special bond, one that even dan has explained transcends any human relationship, and to say that they might not share a bed, or maybe they aren’t romantic in ways you may expect, or maybe they are, or maybe there’s lots of complexities to the way they are with each other, those things don’t take away from the deep connection they have. People shouldn’t reduce their deep connection by the expectations of what they want a relationship to be, if they have separate beds, if they have a shared one, if they are comfortable in a middle ground of just existing in each others presence without ever tying a public word to what their dynamic is - all of it is down to them to share. When you experience such a strong connection with another person, and have for over a decade, it cannot be tied up in a neat bow for people, and it must be daunting to know that people have a preconceived notion of what they desire them to be, and that they can’t meet all the standards people want from them.
Dan and Phil transcend any normal expectations of a relationship, and to admit that isn’t to erase the connection they have, but rather to accept that this expectation of a heteronormative relationship between two queer individuals is limiting to how deep their connection truly is, and is erasing that queer connections are much different and can be much stronger than an average straight relationship. It is also important to not erase their friendship just to speak about their romantic relationship, because their platonic relationship is extremely important, and is something that is so special.
I guess the main consensus is that people need to understand the complexities of queer relationships, that queer platonic couples exist (which may not be what Dan and Phil are, they could be what lots of people want them to be, but there's no acknowledgement of the possibility of it being something like that), and that if you're going to be speaking about queer couples, at least comprehend how they aren't going to be a heteronormative idealistic couple, and how a lot of people need to stop expecting them to be.
This isn't to stomp on lighthearted jokes we and dan and phil make, like funny comments about our divorced dad's when dan went on tour or how we are the children of old gay rats or anything that is of course lighthearted fandom bantering and not something you expect them to actually ever meet the expectations of, but more so a commentary on the way that people still discuss things they have made clear that they do not want speculation on, and things they have many times set boundaries on. A lot of people's fantasy of a big "we are together" YouTube announcement most likely won't occur, because of the amount of times they have reiterated their want to keep private things private, and that is okay. That doesn’t take away from the strong relationship that is present between them or the magic in their videos or dynamic.
We all collectively love dan and phil, that's why we are all here, watch and love them. It's time, really, to accept that they are simply two amazing silly boys who live together in their forever home and choose to share their lives with us, and that should be enough for people, and if it isn't - it would be good (not in a cruel way, but from one phan to another) to reevaluate if you are overstepping something that is blatantly going over a boundary and if you have a fantasy image of them that you’re pushing onto them.
I’d also love to hear anyone else’s points on this topic as I feel like I could also write 800 more paragraphs, and if you have any additions or disagreements or just general discussion about it - I’m open to hearing anyones opinions as I think queer dynamics don’t get discussed enough :-] thank you for reading!
#my long essay has arrived#big rant moment oops#dan and phil#dnp#phan#dnpgames#dan howell#amazingphil#daniel howell#phil lester#danisnotonfire#queer community#queer
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the male gaze distorts reality
started watching movies again (just don't like movies really) and one thing that surprised me was how the male gaze isn't just about staring at hot naked ladies, but how it distorts reality. the male gaze creates 'people' and 'situations' that simply don't exist.
the biggest example to me is the femme fatale. the devious woman using her sexuality as a weapon. whether the trope is a blonde bimbo bubblingly bouncing her boobs, or a sophisticated older brunette casually letting the strap fall off her shoulder and threatening to reveal her bust, they are different incarnations of the same concept. the women are knowingly using the sexual desire of men against them.
i watched a particularly egregious example where a group of women were sent to seduce a group of men, hanging off their shoulders, caressing their chests, with the promise of further sex if they came to another room. the true purpose was to humiliate them by getting them to disrobe in front of other people.
when i was a kid watching these scenes, i was convinced that this was a real thing women did - there were women out there who knowingly used their sexual appeal to get men to do things they otherwise wouldn't. it had to be such a recurrent trope for a reason, right? it even shows up in movies for children - remember the hot pink pegasus seducing hercules's pegasus?
youtube
but as an adult, i find myself confused watching these scenes. i've never seen anything like this happen. i've never met someone who says they do things like this. it's one thing to be flirty and dress in a sexually attractive way to get free drinks, but it's quite another to be so sexually forward to 'deceive' and 'trap' men. not to mention, it's... dangerous. if the man even believes he's being deceived, he can turn violent. it's a foolish move.
maybe the only real life example I can think of is honeypots. but honeypots are actual spies, trained by governments, and spies are selected to have less empathy than the average human being. do we really think that among untrained women there are so many seductresses with the skill of trained spies?
"what about sex workers/prostitutes?" while the honeypot spy is employed by a government agency, prostitutes are paid by the very people they are "seducing." prostitutes have to put on an act - they need to pretend to be the sexually active and perpetually horny woman men both want and fear. but most prostitutes are not like this; they are in it because they need money fast, not because they think fucking strange men for pay is a sexy and desirable career path (fun fact - read the diary of madam pompadour, the most famous courtesan and the embodiment of aristocratic seductress, and you will find she actually did not like having sex with the king and dreaded it. not even our real life courtesans can live up to our fantasies.)
the entire idea of a woman using her sexuality against men is simply a male fantasy - and the flipside is that it's a male anxiety, too.
men wish that women would approach them and find them desirable and initiate sexual intercourse with them, without the men having to do any of the work. there's nothing inherently wrong with fantasizing that a hot person finds you so special and hot that they want to have sex with you right away. men and women of all sexual orientations entertain these secret fantasies.
but then, there's the fear - "what if these hot women are actually only pretending to be interested in me, to get something from me? and i'm too horny to think straight and i actually give it to them?!" and that is the male anxiety, that for a moment, they actually end up losing the upper hand. despite the fact that such a situation is actually pretty rare in real life (I asked several male friends if they had personally or second-hand encountered such a situation in real life, and none could say they had), it is a common trope in fiction. it is especially lascivious in film, where the seduction before the fall can be portrayed in softcore porny ways.
"this is a foolish idea, everyone knows fiction and reality are separate." well, we know they are separate, but do you know which parts? if you don't already know the facts of the situation beforehand, how can you tell when fiction is lying to you and when it's drawing from reality? do you think the young, sexually inexperienced kids watching disney's hercules know that 'seductresses' aren't a common threat when we watch this scene? or will they learn and think "ok, a thing that happens in grownup life is that hot ladies seduce men, and you gotta watch out for them!" what basis does a child or even a teenager have to know this is false? especially when this is a common trope?
"women are sexually available and active - and deceitful" is a harmful trope. when you read about the ancient greeks stereotyping that women are lustful, they don't mean it in an "aww shucks, these girls just love having sex!" kinda way, they mean it in a "women are unfaithful and will use any means to get dick, including taking advantage of their hotness" way (this is why 'whore' is the ultimate insult for women). because if this trope were real, then it would be dangerous, wouldn't it? honeypot spies are dangerous for this reason. luckily for us, it is not real, but the male anxiety surrounding it continues. the male desire/anxiety around it informs porn tropes about 'punished sluts'. it informs incel tropes about the 'cock carousel'.
and this is what i mean when i say the male gaze distorts reality. it fabricates, out of whole cloth, a person that does not exist in any meaningful way - a woman who seduces men while demanding no emotional involvement, who is eager and willing at all times, who can turn the very desire for her existence against those men to get what she wants. she is not repulsed by or afraid of the men she pretends to be attracted to. before, we had to content ourselves with art and novels glorifying this false woman, but film allows her to exist in flesh and blood. cast a real woman, have her speak words and move her body in ways dictated by a man, and suddenly she appears much more real. grow up with enough of these, and even women writers can start to think these "seductresses" are real people. she can try to reclaim her and turn her into a badass boss babe, or she can condemn her as immoral and pathetic, but the deception is complete - the argument is no longer about whether this woman exists (she does not), but about whether she is justified in her ways. the female writer does not realize she was nursed on the male gaze for years, and it will take serious seeing with her own eyes to realize what is the real world and what is male fantasies and fears.
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Kibutsuji Muzan: Succubus Survival
Hush.. just one more..
Genre: Romance // Muzan x succubus!reader
⚠️: Heavy suggestive and sexual references, kinky reader, immoral, not fully consensual, DO NOT BIND THE CHARACTERS TO REAL LIFE MORALS THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION
A/N: I'm so frustrated rn, this is like the 3rd draft I've had because it would suddenly post and answer privately ??? It was so annoying, so now I'm editing this on a private post. I love the request so much and thank you for requesting it but I will not be writing anything until I get my new device, I hope there'd be less mishaps there.
REQ: @cursetopia
Each night, in the houses of young noblemen—loud cries echoed through the corners of their rooms. You loved seeing tears fall down their cheeks as pain turned into pleasure until they couldn't tell the difference.
"Good boy.. just one more and you'll be free." You whispered in his ear cunningly. You were on top of him, freely guiding his body as you moved yours. His yogi was messily hanging from his body while your kimono fought to stay on your shoulders.
You used your blood demon art: Pearls of Restraint, which stuck to their name. They restrained his movement and ability to speak as you moved your hips in a quick and steady pace, chasing your own high as you ignored his pleas.
After a while you finally got more than a taste of your release. He immediately passed out from exhaustion. You fixed his yogi gently and put the covers over his body.
You stood up and fixed your kimono. You stood near the headrest and hovered your hand over his head, you made a motion, as if you were tugging on air. You pulled out a pearl from his head.
The pearl held his memories, you took the pearl and added it to your necklace—he was just one of the many men you've seduced into a soul-sucking night, literally.
You left his room through the window. You hid in the night sky, running swiftly yet quietly through the roofs to avoid getting caught. You ran to your room, in the most exclusive house in all of the entertainment district.
You disguised yourself as an oiran by day to avoid suspicion and to keep living amongst the male noblemen of Japan living in Kyoto, who—in your opinion looked better than the others.
Once you reached your room you were met with a calm glare, given by Muzan. "Darling~ you're finally back, come here." He spoke with calmly with a faint smile on his face as he patted his lap, insinuating that you should sit on him which you happily obliged to.
He stroked your hair gently, propping his chin on the top of your head as he held you tightly with his unoccupied hand as you sat on his lap. "Now then, let me ask you a question darling." He spoke, you hummed in response to let him know you were listening.
"What exactly do you want to achieve with sleeping with different men each night?" He asked, you took a moment to think of an answer but then realized he could read your mind so might as well just say what comes to mind.
You held your face as you kept an innocent smile on your face, "Survival, their souls and energy, if you're asking for practicality, my lord. Although if you meant to ask about my sexual desires, I love to see their reactions, it's quite.. adorable." You spoke happily as you looked up at him. It seemed like even the thought of their reactions turned you on.
Muzan found your answer amusing, he chuckled and continued to stroke your hair gently. "Adorable.." he whispered as he softly kissed the top of your head.
"Won't you be a good girl and show your lord this 'energy' you speak so highly of?" He spoke suggestively, he put you down in between his legs, "Go on my dear, I'm sure you have enough energy now." He held your cheek as he spoke, leaning down to you, offering you a soft kiss.
Spontaneous post: 07/09/23 23:34PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time
#muzan kibutsuji x you#muzan x you#muzan kibutsuji x reader#kimetsu muzan#muzan x reader#muzan x f!reader#muzan x succubus!reader#kny#kimetsu#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon x reader#kibtsuji x reader#muzan kibutsuji#muzan kibutsuji x f!reader#kibutsuji muzan x reader#kibutsuji muzan x f!reader#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu muzan kibutsuji#kimetsu kibutsuji muzan#kimetsu kibutsuji
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I dont know if you write about it and it’s fine if you dont but I just wanna share my thoughts, if it’s alright with you. 🙂
Know what would make the siblings with Ghost fic? Inc*st. You’ve already laid the groundwork for it, tbh.
Being together most of the time in public and in private settings, men not being able to approach Doc due to Ghost intimidating them, the physical intimacy that is present and constant, and both being closed off to anyone else but to each other. It’s all there, just a bit more darkness and…tada!
I wont say anything anymore as I do not wish to offend you if this is not your cup of tea. But if it is, then I will look forward to your great work, as usual. Thank you and have a good day. 🥰
You, anon, are so blasphemously brilliant. Inc*st isn’t something I’ve done, and isn’t good per se irl, but this is fictional works. So, yeah, here ya go :D And like I said, I’m pretty loose with what I’m willing to write.
PS. I am SO going to hell for this-
Pairing : big brother Simon “Ghost” Riley x lil sister reader
Cw: DARK, INC*ST, smut, yandere, DUB-CON, fingering, self-hate, tell me if I missed anything.
Wc: 1.4k
NOTE: You've been warned about the content, if you don't like Inc*st, don't read it. Just don't report it, cuz that would be annoying.
YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY AND YOURS ALONE.
He knew it was wrong, the sheer sinful shame of his acts towards you made him a monster, a vile creature, one worse than the abusive father you shared. His intentions, his thoughts, his needs, they were so wrong, too wrong that he had to choke down the disgust that riled in his guts.
I’m disgusting, he repeated those words a dozen times, a hundred times, a million times, how many times he needed to get them to stop himself. I’m so fuckin’ disgusting.
Being able to look at himself in the mirror made the sinking feeling worse, he could see the face of the monster he was, not the one who wore a mask or hid behind a moniker; the face he glared at was Simon, the face that shared similarities to yours: the blond hair and the brown eyes. He had red-rimmed eyes, unlike your softer ones, full of life and power. He’d felt the need to break the mirror, shattering it into small pieces and watching his face crumble into fragments and blood, but it would make you worry so much. The blood in the bathroom tiles, wall and sink, his bloodied and roughly wrapped hand and the missing and broken glass would give him away; albeit a shattered mirror was enough for you to rush to him in a flurry of worried words and hushed comfort.
He felt so fucking disgusting, you cared so much about him, so much care and dedication you devoted to him and him alone since you’ve been young. The words you’d whisper in his ears at night when his regrets crawled out, burdening his mind with bloody and visceral images that terrorised him. You were his solid link, the anchor that held him firmly alive and sane, able enough to keep going.
You were his lifeline as he was yours, you clutched onto him for love and comfort while he latched on you for the same, but he had needs, dark ideas and images he made with you. His sacrilegious dreams and thoughts violated his image of you, the sweet girl he protected from your abusive father that would beat you and him.
Stop, this is disgusting, he kept reminding himself, screaming the words to himself in the bathroom, the shower head pouring scalding water upon his request as punishment. Stop it. Stop it, Simon, he screamed, but it never helped, the burning water, the frozen winter, or the pain from wounds, they all numbed until he seaked you out. Then, he couldn’t stop himself, his hands and mouth were so hungry.
You were always with him, and he was always with you; you were stuck by the hip. He came to you by habit, by instinct, by heart. You were his comfort and the only thing that mattered. That's why he was doing this, his need for a physical relationship, the carnal hunger he had, the darkness he wanted to share, all for you. The more selfish side of himself told him that he deserved it and that he was doing this for you. For you, anything.
“Si, are you sure?” you mumbled, breathing in the sweat and cologne on his throat, the thick muscle of his neck bulging when he gulped down harshly. “Si, I’m- I-“
“You trust me, don’t you, love?” he asked, wording his words in a way that would make you less hesitant, and question his intentions less whenever he called you love. It was the nickname everyone at home called you, the youngest of the family, the baby. “Do you?”
“‘Course I do, Si. Of course, I do,” you had a quirk of repeating your words when you got stressed, became so nervous that you’d stutter. It only happend with him or the team, feeling comfortable enough to let them in, to let down the wall you built around you and him enough so that they could see the real you. Task Force 141 truly became a new family, to him and to you.
He shushed your nerves, hands trailing down your backed back to your hips, thumb rubbing circles on your warm skin. You straddled him, he told you that it would make him feel better, it would help him relax and take the edge off. One hand went back to cradle the back of your neck and pushed your closer to him, his head laying on top of yours. His other went further down your back, cupping the fat of your ass, kneading with the softness. His blunt nails dug into your ass, index finding the tight rim of your anal hole.
You whined and clutched the back of his shirt tightly when he went lower, fore and middle finger bumping into your shaved lips, sliding to your slit and rubbing your clit. You opened your mouth to ask him once more, still hesitant to Simon’s idea, but a moan left instead. His hand rounded your thigh to deftly circle your button between his clothed torso and your sheer nakedness. You wanted to hide, feeling his rough, calloused pads writing eights on your sensitive nerve.
You fidgeted, writhing quietly over him, hip bucking forward and mewling when his forefinger would dip slightly into your cunt, tip sliding in before he pulled back to tease you. Although his intentions were to tease you, pleasure you, you felt the nagging discomfort of sharing this with Simon, he was your brother, the eldest of your family and the only one who you could seek comfort with. It never felt the same when you went to the other men, Simon never liked it either.
This wasn’t what siblings usually did, or should at all, but how could you deny him, tell your only family no. The burden of pulling back from him in his time of need would hurt more than the discomfort you felt at the moment, the buzzing in your mind and the tingling pleasure he was giving you. This was anything but normal, but for him, for Simon, you’d see it through.
“Si-!” you jerked back when he slipped a finger in, voice breaking when you cried out, huffing loudly onto the skin of his neck, where he kept you. “Wait-“ your nails sunk into the meat of his back, tapping him, telling him to slow down or wait a bit.
“I got ya, love,” Simon whispered calmly, adding another finger to pump in and out of your soaked cunt, your body reacted naturally to stimulus even if you’d cried no or stop, please, the body and mind were separate things. “I know, (Name), let me help ya.”
Help wasn’t what you’d qualify this as; although your body reacted to him, any body would do the same if they were on the receiving end. You wanted out, you wanted him to stop, but you also knew no one would love you the way Simon did, or the way Ghost did. He was your haven, your safe space that no one else could become, you already had him, why would you need anyone else.
“That’s right. Ya got me, so ya don’t need anyone else, right?”
You couldn’t reply, lost in the drowning sensation of being so full and stimulated by Simon, his big fingers dragging over the spot that made your mind numb and curling just right to make you see stars. Your body shook, crying out his name as pleasure washed over you, walls clamping on his digits, your hips bucked as you rode his hand.
This is wrong, this is so wrong, Si, you wished you could tell him, but the orgasm made all thought disappear. When was the last time you fucked someone, or dated? You couldn’t remember having anyone significant other than family in your life. Sure, you’ve laid with some soldiers and boys when you were younger, more spry than your current age, but those were long ago and none were as big as Simon was. Men were rarely his size and height, he was a rivalling force in the military and in life.
He was loving and tender, slowly pushing you over the edge a second and third time before he felt the need to stop, too ashamed of himself to relieve the unbarring and painful sensation of his hard cock straining against the tightness of his brief and pants. You were his priority, your pleasure being the sole purpose of this moment: locked in your shared room, walls reinforced to be sound-proof from the inside and being at the mercy of his skilled fingers.
He gazed at you, eyes squinting at the fiery blush on your cheeks, warm and sweaty, your eyes dazed and teary from him, tired even, and your breath and heart rapid, loud and gasping. Your eyes met his and you smiled at him tentatively, unsure of how he felt now. Did he feel better? What happened that made him so riled up, mad?
“I won’t let anyone touch ya, (Name),” he swore, caressing your cheeks sweetly with his clean hand. He loved you too much to lose you to someone else, he couldn’t let another man or woman take you from him like they did with his family. “I love you, (Name),” he said those words like they were a mantra, sacred words meant for you alone.
“I love you too, Si.”
Only for you, Si. It’s wrong but for you, anything.
#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley smut#ghost x reader smut#simon ghost riley x you#mw2 smut#cod mw2#ghost mw2#simon x reader#yandere ghost#yandere simon riley#yandere x reader#tw dubcon#tw: incest
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Limelight |Jake Kiszka x Reader | Prologue
A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back at it..you know me, ideas pop into my head out of the blue and occasionally we go on a journey together. Please note that while this follows the band and Jake closely this is a fictional story. I currently do not have a posting schedule or a plan on how many parts this will be so bare with me !! As always, I appreciate alllll the feedback and love chatting about stories with you all ! I cannot wait to see where yet another enemies to lovers trope takes us! A very special shout out to @joshym for hyping me up over this story and being a beta reader for this upcoming series (I appreciate you so so much!!). This is just a little prologue to start us off on our journey. MINORS DNI this series !!! This will contain smut at one point!
Summary: Jake Kiszka is a pain in the ass to put it in simple terms. But you loved your job, you actually needed this job more than anything. However, shining shoes, refilling water, folding towels, applying eyeliner, etc. was not exactly on your agenda. Neither was falling in love with the type of man you usually steered far, far away from but yet here we are. Being Jake Kiszka's personal assistant has brought trials and tribulations beyond belief but maybe, just maybe, they were worth it all in the end.
Prologue Warnings: None. Unless you want to count swearing?
Limelight.
Between both aspiring artists and fans alike, the chase and the thrill of the limelight could not be beat.
You craved the limelight personally, more than the average fan of music. You wanted a taste of it for yourself ever since you were young but being the center of public attention? Well, scared the hell out of you. So you settled for a different type of “Limelight”. The type of limelight that brought along all of the green rooms, the thrills, the music so loud and close you wouldn’t be able to hear for days following the concert. You craved to just be close to your favorite musicians without having to pay a pretty penny. You craved the backstage limelight.
You had applied at ReverbPR for a simple assistant job to navigate your way through the music industry to make a name for yourself. You went to college to be a producer of music but found it hard as a young girl fresh out of college with little to no experience to have anyone take you seriously in Nashville. So you settled to be an executive assistant for frontmen, guitar and bass players and drummers alike in hopes to market yourself to these artists to then eventually work with them one on one with their new albums.
You were working away at your profile on LinkedIn in a little coffee shop early on a Monday morning when you got the call from your boss Brian.
“Pack your bags, I found a new client for you.”
Your heart raced from excitement. Things with your previous client did not work out well for you. You had been paired up with an up and coming rock band who’s misogynistic ways both on stage and off made it a very uncomfortable work situation for yourself that was taking a toll on you mentally. You had called Brian after a month and begged him to pair you with someone else. To your surprise he agreed and sent your replacement to the band and thankfully, that was the last you heard of them.
So when you heard from Brian you were now paired yet again with an up and coming rock band of young men, your heart sank and your blood pulsed in your ears. But Brian had assured you that this band was different and you wouldn’t be working with all of the band members, just one this time.
Higher following on social media and a good reputation.
So you agreed but had a mind to keep your guard up just in case.
That night, following a few glasses of wine, you lifted your roommate's cat off of your lap. You ignored the soft protests that sweet little Isabel made and reached out for your laptop sitting on the coffee table. You typed ‘GRETA VAN FLEET’ into your browser and fell into a deep dive on the quartet from Michigan and their rise to fame.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away from you, a young guitarist was preparing for a night of revelry.
“Why do you always have to be such a dick dude?!” Jake exasperated, shooting a glare across the room to his better half. Actually, lesser half in the eyes of Jake at this given moment.
Jake's arms were crossed against his chest and he was leaning against a table. His hands were preoccupied with a cup of wine and a little black eyeliner pencil that was about to go to waste.
“Because brother Jake,” Josh paused and closed his eyes as his assistant, Rose, spread silver glitter across his eyelids. “Beauty like mine takes time! My rhinestones aren’t even done yet.”
He closed his eyes again, avoiding the sharp glare from Jake.
“It's not going to take long to do two little black lines under my eyelids.” Jake threw a hand in the air.
He could tell Josh was getting irritated quickly as Jake was interfering with his “Quiet Time” pre stage ritual bullshit. “Exactly. You can do it yourself.”
“Josh,'' Rose protested softly. “It really won’t take me that long.” Josh’s eyes popped open in a warning his sweet assistant Rose then back to Jake as if to say ‘Get the fuck out of my dressing room’.
Jake rolled his eyes. “What fucking ever. I’ll get my own damn assistant then and you won’t be able to steal them.”
As he walked back to his own dressing room clad in his silver stage suit, the faint sounds of fans chanting “GRETA! GRETA! GRETA!” filled his ears. His senses were heightened. No matter how many times he’s been on stage. No matter how many pep talks he has given himself before, he will never shake the butterflies.
Now to add to the butterflies was pure rage. A sense of frustration with his twin and he didn’t even have time to do his goddamn eyeliner.
He made a plan in his head to talk to his manager about it tomorrow. It was time he had his own damn help around here.
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Dark Knight feeling, Die or Kill (m)
A collaboration based on fictional iconic superhero characters, with the bts members; with a twist of obsession and desire, you won’t be able to escape, no matter how much you try, who’s going to save you from them? hint: no one.
written by: @justanotherstarlightmonger
member: seokjin
character: silver surfer
synopsis: Kim Seokjin, the silver surfer, finds his heart of titanium swaying for the first time in millennia, for Reed Richard's prodigy apprentice, who unfortunately calls the planet his master wants to devour, home. Caught between a life long oath to an intergalactic planet devouring fog and the all encompassing obsession the surfer developed with OC, Seokjin will fight tooth and nail to have it all.
release date: [TBD]
written by: @bighitfics
member: yoongi/suga
character: captain america
synopsis. “You’ve been asleep captain yoongi, for almost 22 years” yet I wasn’t surprised by the revelation not one bit just disappointed and perhaps a tad bit disheartened.
The only thing that came into my mind at the moment was her.
My Y/n.
The one thing in my life that kept me going.
The one stability that I had.
The girl who believed in me when the world stranded me.
The girl I’d fight hell just to hold in my arms.
I close my eyes and all I could hear was her sweet voice sobbing and begging me to return back.
Then the crash happened and the rest is history.
The defeat and acceptance of never seeing her again for the sake of others still fresh in my memory.
Where’s she now? Still living in illsan? Does she know that I’m here….that I’ve been found? Would she be waiting like she promised?
“You’re gonna be okay?” the guy asked while I looked around the city that had so sense of familiarity still trying to find some sort of relevance to ease my mind but it was utterly useless because everything was foreign as though I’ve been transported to a different planet.
“Yeah I just…I had a date.” I answer him.
release date: [TBD]
written by: @bahbah-bee
member: hoseok/jhope
character: Batman/Bruce Wayne.
synopsis. Billionaires don’t develop attachments. Superheroes don’t make deals with villains. This was something ingrained in Mr. Hoseok through experience. Gotham didn’t need to know the truth about Batman, and in return all the dealings of the underworld were taken care of. It didn’t matter if people got hurt, as long as justice was served. At least, that was until he met you.
release date: [TBD]
written by: @ratherbefangirling
member: namjoon/RM.
character: black widow
synopsis. Namjoon was stolen from his birth parents by the agency. Since then he's learned many different things, lived many different lives, felt many different things. Black Monster. The best of the best. That's what everyone knows him as. Is it too much to ask that someone knows his name. Is it too much for the extraordinary to ask for the ordinary. It might be, but black monster always gets his way no matter what.
release date: [TBD]
written by: @pynkgothicka
member: jimin
character: scarlet witch
synopsis. Jimin has kept up your fantasy-esque life up for all you can remember. So why is that idyllic life showing cracks all of a sudden?
release date: [TBD]
written by: @bebejungkook
member: taehyung/V
character: Angel (x-men)
synopsis. To everyone in the city, Kim Taehyung is a mutant and the heir to the Kim fortune, helping keep the city safe and secure. But to you, he is your guardian Angel, saving you from harm and gifting you with wisdom. You go to him for guidance and comfort, how could he say no to his sweet and innocent little dove? His heart beats for you only and he would do anything to protect and keep you safe, after all he is your guardian angel.
release date: [TBD]
wrïtten by: @aajjks
mëmbër: jungkook
chàracter: Spïder-Mân
synöpsïs. He wöuldn’t lêt you cräwl äwäy from him, you bëlongêd to him.
fïc téäsër: xx
rëlëäsë dätë: [TBD]
#bts smut#yandere bts#yandere x reader#jin smut#yoongi smut#hoseok smut#namjoon smut#jimin smut#taehyung smut#jungkook smut#bts x reader#ot7 smut#ot7 x reader#ot7 fic#bangtan smut#yandere bangtan#yandere jimin#yandere taehyung#yandere jungkook#yandere namjoon#yandere jin#yandere yoongi#yandere hoseok#smut#yandere au#bts superhero collab#spider man#scarlet witch#silver surfer#batman
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Could you do a quick one shot where someone tries to flirt with the reader from vampire Tyrone. How does he react?
Chapter 5 Chapter 7
Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Public sex, PIV, cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. Slighty bratty reader. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual. Exhibition kink. This one is a littler darker, reader gets aroused by violence and violent thoughts. Non-inclusive language used.
Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Back in Tyrone's world, full of heavy clouds of lust in the air, Tyrone catches you flirting with another man and he loses his mind.
Word Count: 4,101k
Midnight Sin Masterlist
A/N: Woooo, had to get this one off my chest! Are you sneaking a look at my outline, anon?? I swear I love jealousy in fiction! I don't tag ageless blogs. Toss a comment or reblog to save a writer!
Taglist: @planetblaque @westside-rot @umber-cinders @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @twocentuar @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @beenathembo @theyscreamsannii @lovedlover @henneseyhoe @dayjlovesromance @melaninpov @blowmymbackout @miyuhpapayuh @soft-persephone @eggnox @browngirldominion @longpause-awkwardsmile @slippinninque @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @nworbaij
You felt desired. You bravely walked through the room in nothing but your panties and black high heels, parading around. Back at Tyrone’s sex house, he had been teasing you all night. He combined rolling with wine, and fingering with powerful kisses so now you were in a sex-crazed brain fog and loving every second.
You asked him to roll you and make you do something. It was a sign of extreme trust and you didn’t know where it came from. You only wanted to see what it was like once. If he could truly make you do anything and if you would remember or if it would feel like a dream.
You also told him that if he did anything that crossed one of your hard lines, he’d never see you again. Vampire or not. He promised to behave himself. You’d had many, many talks about your boundaries and his. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable.
That was why you were comfortable letting him roll you all night. God. If they could bottle this feeling and sell it, it’d be the fastest selling drug to ever exist.
The other vampires and donors, who were members of Tyrone’s club, looked at you as if you were the sexiest thing in this room. Tyrone rolled you to make you strip slow for him and walk around with your breasts out.
Getting pounded in front of a mirror was one thing. It felt like you and Tyrone were the only two people in the room, though he constantly reminded you that there was an audience. And they loved seeing you.
You still had your wits about you, but you had to do what Tyrone asked you to. You wanted to. Your clothes were too hot and itchy and you clawed them off, relishing the cool air that rushed over your skin.
The way Tyrone stared at you…like he wanted to eat you made you desperately horny. And now others stared at you too while you walked around. You modeled for them. Modeled your body. Modeled everything your mama and God gave you. And the men nodded appreciatively. The woman gave you knowing smirks.
You’d never felt more alive. More in control. Turn around for me. Tyrone’s voice whispered through your mind. You turned around, eyes searching for Tyrone. He stood at the other end of the playroom, one of many in his giant ass mansion. This one had dark walls and low lights strung across it.
In the middle of the room, there was a platform where a scene played out of a male vampire getting dominated by his female donor. She cracked the whip against the man’s flesh and tortured ecstasy sprang from his lips. Some in the room watched. There were chairs, tables, and couches set up around the room and some took advantage. There was also a room or three in the back for people who wanted a little privacy.
You, however, only had eyes for Tyrone. He only wore his briefs, so his chest was out and shining against the lighting. He would be an angel if he wasn’t a confirmed devil. You grinned in his direction. He was so gorgeous. So sexy. So otherworldly you wanted to pinch yourself. Come here.
Your foot moved without a second thought from you. You were aware that he was still in your mind, still commanding you. But you couldn’t stop moving towards him if you tried. It was freaky and exciting.
Kneel and crawl.
You stopped and then lowered yourself to your knees. Your wet pussy squelched and you bit back a moan. You were achingly wet, so hungry for Tyrone’s dick that you were ready to sing for it. You crawled to Tyrone, eyes eagerly on his.
He smirked and let you stop, not wanting you to hurt your knees on the rough floor. A loud crack split the air as the whip hit the vampire again. His moan was longer this time. He was getting his. Why the hell couldn’t you get yours?
Tyrone closed the distance and stared into your eyes. “Come back,” he said. His voice echoed in your mind. You felt like you were getting yanked through a pit of darkness.
“Come back,” he repeated. That pit of darkness was endless. You weren’t afraid just…reverent. Like there was something in the darkness with you that recognized a kindred spirit and winked.
Like death.
“Come back.” His voice stopped echoing and you stopped feeling the flighty, floaty feeling of rolling. It was a trip being pulled back into reality, but Tyrone wanted to give your mind a rest.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
You nodded. You wanted to tell him about the odd visions and feelings in your mind whenever he rolled you. You weren’t sure if it would give him concern or if he would stop. You had lunch with Nikki tomorrow. You needed more answers.
Tyrone answered as much as he could, but it seemed like he acknowledged that you were unprepared but was unwilling to teach you more. If there was something bad waiting for you at the end of this, you were going to be pissed.
Tyrone kissed your cheek and held your hands. “I’m going to make sure everyone is behaving and bring you some water,” he said. “That means you behave too.”
You smiled at him. He was so damn cute. “I always behave myself,” you said.
Tyrone shook his head and moved away lightning fast. You moved about the room. No one approached you. No one talked to you. You could only guess that it was Tyrone’s doing. Everyone too busy being afraid of him than to extend a hand to you.
They still looked at your body, at your breasts. They could probably smell how needy you were. How wet you were, clenching around nothing. Wishing Tyrone would go on and fuck you.
You were surrounded by debauched people, each giving in to carnal desires right before your eyes. You scooted around a couch where a couple was practically in each other’s laps. They got each other off, staring deeply into each other’s eyes.
There was still the vampire on stage. You stopped and stared at him, at his prone form in supplication to his donor. She was a gorgeous, thick Black woman with tightly curled hair in puff balls on her head. She wore nothing but high heels, digging that heel into his side.
“Are you okay, baby?” The donor asked.
“Yes, yes, yes,” the man said, chanting like he wasn’t really here anymore. Even though the donor was in charge, there was genuine love and affection between them. They constantly checked in on each other, knowing exactly when to push and when to pull back.
Would that be you and Tyrone one day? Would you let everyone look at you while Tyrone dominated you so publicly? Your thoughts turned sour as you imagined a future with Tyrone. One in which you start to get older, wrinkly. If you managed to live that long.
“I thought these things were supposed to be arousing. Why you frownin’?” Tyrone asked from behind and off to the side of you. You started to turn around.
“Mhm, eyes forward,” he said. He sounded…different. Like his voice got deeper or he scratched his vocal cords on something. Tyrone’s voice was always deep, but this one seemed different.
You faced forward, interested in this new game of Tyrone’s. You watched the couple on stage.
“I am aroused,” you said. If he would fuckin’ touch you, he’d know that. Maybe you just weren’t used to denying yourself an orgasm. Your previous lovers were ehh. Certainly nothing to write home about. Certainly nothing like Tyrone who could say two words and have your panties dropping to the floor.
Your pussy throbbed and you rubbed your thighs together. Your panties were ruined at this point. You wanted to be ruined.
“Why do you smell so good?” He asked. He took a deep sniff and you shivered.
You huffed, the breathy sound burning your lungs. You were out of your mind with desire. You didn’t have another rolling in you if he didn’t touch you. Your body felt acutely aware of everything he did. He stepped closer, running a finger down your side.
You moaned, that much contact from him was too much to bear. Your skin tingled where his finger had been. Your breathing increased, feeling like a rabbit caught in a wolf’s path.
Tyrone stepped even closer, dropping a simple kiss to your neck. He smelled different. You tilted your head, confused about his presence. Something was telling you that something was off. Something was wrong with Tyrone.
You turned your head but Tyrone roughly grabbed your chin and pushed it away from him. “You are too damn beautiful to be standing here by yo’self,” he said.
“Ty-” You went to say but he was suddenly away from you. Snarls filled the room. You turned to your left and then did a double take.
Tyrone stood next to…Tyrone. There were two of them? There were two of them. Only, the other wasn’t half dressed like everyone in the room. He still wore dark jeans and a hoodie. His hair was wilder, kinkier, sticking up and away from his head. He had a bigger beard than your Tyrone and grills in his mouth.
He smiled, running his tongue along his golden, elongated canine tooth. He gave your Tyrone a wink. “Little brother,” he said. He held out his hands as if inviting your Tyrone in for a hug.
You were so confused, your head bobbing back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. The intensity of the room seeped away to curiosity and nosiness. The moans and groans and curses stopped. There was only your Tyrone and the…other Tyrone. You were still trying to wrap your mind around that.
“She’s mine, Fontaine,” Tyrone said. There was your man. Deep voice, but with a thick LA accent.
Fontaine, the other Tyrone, tilted his head at you. His eyes raked over your body but you didn’t feel the need to cover up. Everyone saw your body tonight, he’d already gotten an eyeful. “Must be special, little brother,” Fontaine said.
He looked at you and his red eyes seemed to swirl in the low lighting. His face clouded over like he’d just inhaled something delicious. “Smells really good in here,” he said. He stepped in your direction and Tyrone punched him.
“She’s mine,” Tyrone said once more.
Fontaine smiled, blood pooling in his mouth before he licked his lips. “Heard you the first time,” he said.
“Tyrone, what the hell is this?” You asked.
Tyrone rolled his neck and then looked at you. He held out his hand but you were too nervous to take it. He looked feral. Animalistic. But you still got the sense that he was holding back. That he refused to show you the monster beneath.
You stepped closer but only eyed his hand. If you touched him, you’d get distracted. Tyrone was a sin in and of himself. One touch and then you’d be on hands and knees sucking him off.
He withdrew, staring at his lonely hand before turning to Fontaine. “This is my brother, Fontaine,” Tyrone said. He introduced you by your name and Fontaine said it a few times, getting the hang of it.
“Nice to meet you,” Fontaine said.
“Tyrone? Explain?” You asked.
“My brother is usually on the East Coast or overseas. It’s rare for him to make it back West. It’s been some time since he’s been here last,” Tyrone said.
“I didn’t even know you had a brother,” you said. You looked at Fontaine. They were eerily similar. And yet wildly different. Fontaine seemed rougher around the edges. Like he liked to pull on girl’s hair while he disrespected your soul.
“Tyrone don’t never talk about me. He knows I’m usually the one picking up the pretty girls,” he said with a wink. You rolled your eyes, but smiled a little. The next punch to Fontaine’s face made you gasp.
You didn’t see Tyrone move. You didn’t see him cross the short distance and knock Fontaine’s head to the side. Red fire lit up Tyrone’s eyes as he looked at his brother. Fontaine wiped his mouth, another bloody smile for Tyrone.
“I’m going to find some hole to stick this long dick into. You get tired of him, find me,” Fontaine said. He winked at you and then looked at Tyrone. “I’ll see you later.”
The threat was evident in Fontaine’s tone. He slunk off through the room, leaving entirely. Tyrone had other playrooms, you’d yet to see them all. You wondered what else Fontaine was into.
“Did he touch you?” Tyrone asked.
“I thought it was you,” you said, biting your lip. Fuck. Did you screw all of this up? Were your days of being a donor over now because he never told you to be on the lookout for someone who looked and talked like him?
“Where?” Tyrone asked. He stepped closer to you, hands gripping your arms. It wasn’t hurtful. It was more like desperation. Like you were the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. If he let go, there was no telling where his mind would go.
You floundered for what to say. Fontaine hadn’t really done anything bad to you. Nothing worse than what you dealt with on a daily basis growing up a woman. Tyrone looked so pissed…until his dick slapped against your thigh. You looked down at the growing tent in his pants. He was…turned on?
“He only touched my side. And kissed my neck,” you said.
Tyrone’s nostrils flared. Without a word, he moved from the room. There were too many people looking at you. Vampires with fangs bared like they wanted some of what you were having. You were confused and horny and you weren’t sure if you wanted answers at the exclusion of a dicking down, or to hope you getting dicked down didn’t mess with your desire to have answers.
Tyrone dragged you up the stairs and to his side of the house. In his bedroom, no sooner had he closed the door than did he slam your back against it. His kiss was punishing, hard, and rough.
His breathing fanned over your face. He panted so hard like he’d just run a marathon. He ran his thumb over your lip, cupping your jaw and tilting your head. “You’re mine,” he said.
His dark, red eyes still had that feral glint. He wasn’t all there, not truly. You weren’t sure where his mind went. But you hoped he stayed there a little longer. You liked that he was taking off the kid gloves. You wanted to see him unleash that tight hold on his control.
“Is that so?” You asked. You didn’t know where this wild, reckless part of you was coming from. This fascination with toying with a deadly creature. It was like you were flirting with your own mortality. You’d spent so long worried about the curse, that you started to admire it. Study it. Tease it.
Tyrone’s grip tightened around your neck. You groaned, tilting your head up and rolling your eyes. Tyrone stepped closer, pushing his erection against your belly.
“I’m not fuckin’ around right now. I’ll allow a lot of things, little doll, but this ain’t one of them. I’ll kill anybody that look in your direction,” he said.
Shivers wracked your body. You stared into his red eyes. He had to know, right? He had to sense how turned on you were. You rubbed against his erection, palming him. He hissed and moved away. He used his free hand to grab your wandering one and pin it against the door.
You still had your left hand free and you moved it closer to his body. You slipped your fingers beneath his black briefs. He was still shirtless from your little game earlier. When you found his dick once more, you rubbed him.
“I can’t be held responsible for shit you didn’t tell me,” you said.
Tyrone’s eyes widened before he smirked. “You trynna be cute right now?” He asked.
“Telling the truth,” you said.
Tyrone chuckled. Too fast for your brain to comprehend, your cheek was pressed against the cool, smooth wood. One of Tyrone’s hands pinned both of your wrists behind your back. You hadn’t felt like you moved. One minute you faced him, one minute you didn’t.
Tyrone leaned down and bit your ear. Hard. You cried out, a big wave of arousal flooding your panties again. “Ty-Ty–” You shivered.
“I’on usually deal with brats, so we gon’ fix you,” he said.
He moved behind you and then he was pulling your panties to the side, grabbing his dick and swirling it through your dripping entrance. You cried a wretched sound. You were incredibly sensitive. Too sensitive.
He hadn’t done anything yet and you were ready to explode. He got the tip wet with your juices and then slipped inside you. You gasped, bucking away from the door. Tyrone shushed you, kissing along your ear and neck. He found a spot just below your ear that made you giggle. It felt good, but was too sensitive to hold for long.
“Nothin’ more to say? It only took one hit?” He teased, nibbling on your ear. He could bite into you at any moment. You didn’t tell him, but you loved when he drank from you. When he gained energy just by biting into your soft flesh.
“If that’s all you got, then you can’t really claim me,” you said, taunting him back.
Tyrone chuckled. He looped his arm around your torso, grabbing hold of your titty like he was holding a liferaft. His fingers toyed with your nipples while he started to stroke roughly, making you take his big dick. Incoherent moans left you, crying with every deep stroke.
“This pussy know who own it,” he growled in your ear. “Feel how wet she is. Takin’ this dick too fuckin’ well.” He moaned in your ear and you nearly came undone right then and there.
He stroked deeper, groaning as he found a new angle. “My fuckin’ pussy,” he moaned.
He stroked harder and it sounded like you were stirring thick cake batter. It was wet. It was lewd. Tyrone had you against the door like he couldn’t wait for the bed. Like he needed you at the first opportunity you weren’t around other people.
Like he couldn’t wait. Like he needed you.
Tyrone had your arm pinned so you couldn’t leverage yourself against him. Your heels dug into the carpet of his room and you were amazed that you hadn’t toppled over yet. “Oh fuck!” You shrieked. “Dick feelin’ so good.”
“I know it do. This all mine,” he said. To prove his point, he angled his hips against until he was thrusting up and hitting that perfect spot that made your eyes cross. You climaxed, screaming to the rooftop with the force of your orgasm.
It was unbelievable. Primal. Beast and prey. Prey and beast. There was nothing but the underlying drive to fuck. To copulate. To poke and be poked.
You shook on Tyrone’s dick while he continued to stroke. “Mhf, gonna fuck this shit outta this pussy till you beg me to stop,” he moaned.
“Don’t stop,” you moaned, twitching on his dick while he continued to take his pleasure from your body.
“Can’t stop,” he groaned. The sound of him deep in it made you moan even louder, rivaling him at this point. You loved a vocal man. The way he didn’t care about what he looked or sounded like. Your pussy was just that damn good where he couldn’t stay quiet. He had to let you know.
Whether it was by the way he squeezed your nipples past the point of pain, or your wrists bound by his hand, or the wet and aggressive smack of his balls on your clit.
“Fuuuuck,” Tyrone moaned, unleashing a hot sticky load into you. You moaned, dropping your head against the door.
Still, Tyrone kept fucking you. The force of his dick inside was keeping you upright. You slid up and down his dick like he was your personal toy and you squealed and moaned. “Don’t fuckin’ stop, don’t fuckin’ stop,” you moaned. You were on the heels of another orgasm.
Tyrone kept his same pace, but angled his hips again. He pushed into your hips until you were practically flush with the door. He dropped your nipple and it grazed the door. You hissed from the cold and it bloomed into unnameable pleasure.
Tyrone slapped your ass, moaning as your ass jiggled from it. “So fuckin’ gorgeous. I’ll never let anyone else have you,” he moaned.
And fuck if that thought didn’t send you over the edge. Your nails clawed at the door as you whined, panting, huffing, lungs burning, and knees wobbling. You felt like you were being burned from the inside out and you liked it.
As if sensing your thoughts, Tyrone cursed through an orgasm of his own, your name on his tongue. His hips jerked and twitched, but he still sloppily slammed into you. His cum began to seep out of you, leaking down your legs. You moaned from the weird sensation. You were full and not full enough.
Each encounter with Tyrone felt like he was splitting you in half. You lived in a sea of dichotomy. Living in excess and moderation. Bliss and pain. Where ‘stop’ hovered on your lips but your brain knew not to make you say.
Your mind drifted into some other realm. A space in your mind where you were at home in your body. Completely in yourself and not only feeling the pleasure, but your overly analytical brain finally shut off.
A silent hum of pleasure vibrated along your skin. His hand massaged your ass. His other had your wrists against your lower back. Sweat dropped from him and onto your back and ass. Sweat gathered in all of your crevices.
Huffing pants of ecstasy filled the air. Tangled with moans and soft fucks. “I-ca-can–” You stuttered.
“Sure you can. You was big and bad earlier, where that go?” He asked.
It was on the tip of your tongue to apologize. To take it back. But Tyrone wasn’t done. He slowed down, letting more of his cum slip out of you before pushing back in. You heard the wet noises and it made you clench harder around his dick.
For what seemed like hours, there was a call and response to your orgasms. Tyrone came over and over inside you, an endless supply of cum. He said he had decades worth of cum to give you. Every time he came, you were hot on his heels. Coming with loud, raucous moans. Your throat was dry and ragged.
No more than bursts of air escaped you. Your face was covered with tears and snot. You lost track of how many times you came. You were going to be sore as fuck in the morning. You were sore now. Tyrone absolutely bullied your pussy and the sick part of you wanted to hurry and recover so you could do it all over again.
“No more,” you whispered. Tyrone panted beside you. Rivulets of sweat ran down his body. He smirked.
“No more, little doll,” he said. He planted a kiss on your forehead. He massaged feeling back into your arms, having been kept in the same position too long. He apologized but that was the least of your worries.
The floor beneath you was wet with your combined, nasty juices. Your legs wobbled with aftershocks from a deep fucking and you sighed dreamily, ready to fall asleep. You thought getting fucked to sleep had been a myth when you were younger. Tyrone changed all notions about that.
You didn’t notice that Tyrone had lifted you and placed you on the bed. You didn’t notice that he was placing you down into a warm hot bath. He slid in behind you and kissed your neck and back, cleaning you off from what you shared. You tried to kiss him back, but he told you to relax.
“Don’t you fuckin’ say sorry neither,” you mumbled before you passed out, tucked softly into his bed. This wasn’t his resting place, but it damn sure smelled like him. Like home. You curled up and went right to sleep.
Masterlist | Chapter 5 | Chapter 7
#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Tyrone Files#Tyrone x Black!reader#Tyrone x Black reader#Tyrone x Fem!reader#x Black reader#x Fem reader#Tyrone x Fem reader#Tyrone x plus size reader#Vampire!Tyrone#They Cloned tyrone smut#They Cloned Tyrone fanfic#They Cloned Tyrone fan fic#They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction#They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction#John Boyega fanfic
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Jealous JJK MEN
disclaimer: I really like jealous men so sorry if this look toxic to you but please do not accept that kind of behaviour irl, it’s just all fantasy, kink and fiction (:
nanami - gojo - geto
NANAMI:
Nanami hides it well, but he's actually an extremely jealous person. It's not that he isn’t confident, it's rather that he's very possessive and protective of you so he absolutely hates the idea of another man getting close to you. He is so caring, kind and thoughtful, he would never get mad at you but when he get jealous, he can be so scary and agressive towards the other men. The other day, you were chatting with one of your work colleagues in the company lobby and when Nanami came to bring you your lunch, he noticed how tactile your colleague was. You laughed at his jokes and sometimes he'd let his gaze trail over your cleavage or touch you in jest. Nothing dramatic in itself, but Nanami had almost given him the punch of his life. Instead, Nanami, who remains a man who knows how to control his emotions, simply came over to say hello and give you your lunch. He took the trouble to kiss you in front of your colleague's embarrassed eyes, and made an absolutely scathing remark to him. Nanami was cold and his gaze so impassive that the colleague decided to leave, far too intimidated.
- You're so pretty," Nanami breathed, looking at you. "I don't know what to do anymore..."
- Nanami," you said, laughing. "You're the one who's far too jealous."
- Me, jealous? No, not at all."
Nanami remained in total denial. He was so jealous that he got you pregnant that same night.
GETO:
I think Geto is someone who knows how to keep a cool head, so he doesn't show his jealousy but rather makes the other men feel it. Geto knows very well that there's nothing who could stop a man to harass a woman, and the fact that you might find yourself in an embarrassing situation could make him very angry. Last time, you went to a girl friend's birthday party. Naturally, you started dancing and a guy came up behind you and started rubbing up against you. You were very embarrassed, but didn't dare say anything for fear of ruining the mood... Noticing that you weren't answering your phone, Geto stormed into the party, afraid that something serious had happened to you. When he saw that so many guys were hovering around you, he started pushing and insulting them, then grabbed you by the hand to pull you aside.
- Are you ok? he asked, panicking. Why aren't you answering your phone?
- Geto, what's the matter with you? I'm having fun, so I'm not going to stay glued to my phone.
- I was worried when I came over, who were those guys? Do you want me to beat them up?
Both annoyed and touched by his attitude, you reassured him that everything was fine. He took your pretty face between his hands, he rubbed your cheeks with his thumb, admiring how pretty you were then he kissed you. He would never got mad at you. Geto remained in the background for the rest of the evening, letting you dance in peace, but glaring at any man who dared approach you.
GOJO:
Gojo's quite an extrovert, so guessing what he's thinking and feeling wasn't too difficult. On the way to pick you up in your car in front of your university, he noticed that you seemed to be getting along with a guy you were walking with to the campus exit. You were laughing together, and boy, did that guy's face get on Gojo's nerves. He tightened his jaw, clamped his hands on the steering wheel of the car and waited patiently for you in front of the university. Once you reached him, he got out of the car to greet you. He embraced you tenderly as the other girls students looked on, thinking how lucky you were to have such a handsome boyfriend.
- Hey, how was your day? he asked, leaning against the door of his car.
- Fine, and you?
- Yeah yeah... Hey, who's that guy? he asked, pointing with his chin at the guy who'd accompanied you here.
- He's my classmate, we're doing a presentation together.
Annoyance showed on Gojo's face. He sincerely hesitated to get into his car, start it up and chase after the guy to run him over.
- Gojo? you called, snapping him out of his thoughts. Can we get something to eat?
- Sure, anything you want princess.
He kissed you tenderly, staring at your new classmate to make it clear that he was her boyfriend and only him. The new classmate looked pissed and that made Gojo smiled even more. Gojo opened the passenger door of his car for you to get in it. Then he happily start to drive, holding your thigh with his free hand. Blessed to be the boyfriend of such a beautiful woman.
(Omgggg I hope you guys liked it !!! Nothing very original but I wanted to write sweet hcs about them.. maybe I will do a NSFW version of this scenario..)
#nanami kento headcanons#gojo headcanons#geto headcanons#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#anime imagines#satoru gojo headcanons#nanami headcanons#jealousy#gojo x you#nanami x you#geto x you#geto x reader#geto suguru#fem reader#jjk x reader#jjk gojo
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Hello, can you do headcanons on Yandere klaus mikaelson x fem human reader?
Headcanons: Yandere Klaus Mikaelson x Human Reader (female)
-> tysm for your request, i really loved writing this and you also gave me an idea to write a oneshot soon. Hope you like it <3
-> GUYS THIS IS A YANDERE HEADCANON! DON'T READ IF YOU KNOW YOU MIGHT BE TRIGGED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS! ALL FICTIONAL!
⚠️: Mind Compulsion, Unhealthy Relationship, YANDERE KLAUS MIKAELSON, Murders, Manipulation, Stalker, Slight mention of violence, Toxic Character, Arguments.
• Klaus, the original hybrid, is already a red flag in his own right. But as your boyfriend? Things wouldn't be easier for you. You're his girl. His property.
• He's madly obsessed with you. He spoils you when he's in a good mood, treating you like a Goddess who deserves and should be worshiped.
• He gives you anything you want. Expensive and rare dresses. Many rose bouquets. Diamond necklaces, rings and bracelets. He also loves traveling with you anywhere in the world. You wanna visit Paris? He'll take you. Greece? Rome? Egypt? Rio de Janeiro? How about Tokyo? He'll take you everywhere!
• Being honest... at first you were a little scared and embarrassed by how committed he was to spoiling you, because you weren't used to receiving so many gifts. But when you tried to kindly warn him about it while you were still in the middle of a traveling in another country, he got so angry that he LITERALLY disappeared for two days, leaving you alone in an unfamiliar country. Your anger turned to panic not long after, and when he reappeared you were already crying and begging him for forgive you.
• The downside about being spoiled by Klaus is when he uses it as a way to manipulate and belittle you if he's angry. He rubs it in, lying that you're dating him just because you're a gold digger and you'll never find someone like him. Just to apologize to you and spoiling you right away.
• Klaus wouldn't let you leave the house by your own. He says that it's very dangerous, that he has many enemies around and he cannot put your life in danger. He's really very protective with you, he feels like he needs to protect you from the world because your humanity is too fragile. Just thinking about losing you forever makes him panic.
• If you try to sneak out without his permission while he's not in town, he'll pretend he doesn't know anything about that for a few hours. But he has eyes and ears all over town, so it won't be long before he calls the other Mikaelsons and demands them to take you back home, even if you don't want to.
• Klaus is completely obsessed and in love with you. He loves painting you over and over again and probably has a room in the house that feels like your sanctuary. In fact, even at the beginning of your relationship, you discovered that at his secret room there were several frames of you that he painted while you didn't even know him yet. You also found some of your lost clothes and objects, and when you tried to question him about that, he just shrugged and scoffed, saying it was an act of true love. How could you not like an old romantic soul?
• "Don't be so dramatic, my love. I'm just a gentleman in love with my girl. You should be happy to find true love in a century like that."
• Klaus wants you all to himself and he's very jealous, even demanding that his own brothers stay away from you sometimes, especially Kol. Klaus believes they'll betray his trust and try stealing you from him.
• Any interaction you have with other men will turn into a heated argument, which can end in two ways: Klaus giving you a new diamond necklace for your jewelry collection or Klaus apologizing after unintentionally hurting you, forgetting for a moment that you're a human and don't have the same strength and stamina as a supernatural being.
• Maybe he mind compelled you at the beginning of your relationship. It wasn't anything directly dangerous for your safety, he just compelled you to avoid more arguments. And also so you wouldn't be afraid of him when you saw him killing some stranger or daggering his own siblings. And to force you to cut off some of your favourite friendships... If he still does this to you? Well, unfortunately you'll never know. But deep down you find it very weird that so many of your former friends are dying mysteriously or are missing around the world.
• And talking about your humanity, Klaus is mentally fighting with himself when he's wondering if he should turn you into a vampire soon. He loves your human fragility and how much control he has over you (even though he knows it scares you sometimes), but he also loves the thought about the future Sire Bond between you two, he truly believes that your love for him will grow even more after your vampire transitioning.
#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x reader#yandere klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x y/n#the originals x reader#klaus mikaelson x female reader#klaus mikaelson x human reader#yandere headcanons#klaus mikaelson headcanons#requests are open#open requests#the vampire diaries#the originals#venusbyline#klaus mikaelson fanfiction#the originals fanfiction#the vampire diaries fanfiction
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hi this is basically my part 2 of my post about being a small selfship blog
that post was met with a good amount of small blogs being happy about what i had written, meanwhile there was a handful of blogs that still expressed being upset that they were so small despite the work they'd put into their stuff.
i should preface by saying, even though i've had posts get over 300+ notes, and i have over 100+ followers, im really not a big blog, and i do seriously mean that.
yes, my posts about selfship scenarios and positivity do get a good amount of notes, and lots of the tags are very positive and fun to read. but if you do look through my blog, you'll notice those are the only posts that get any attention. all my posts about my personal selfships barely get notes, i barely get any asks even when doing ask games, and i've even tried participating in those "reblog with your f/o and i'll assign them this!" posts and i dont think i've ever gotten a reply.
and yeah, the last one at least has bothered me a bit, and i wish i couldve been part of the fun, but i'll be honest— when i made my selfship blog, i literally made it to be my own corner where i can go gushy gooey crazy over my fictional men. and those posts i made about general selfshipping scenarios and such, those were me just throwing ideas at the walls so i had a place to put them and maybe a few people could see it and feel a lil better. i never intend for my stuff to get a lot of attention because honestly, i'm used to it, so my expectations are always extremely low, and i'm rarely ever upset about it not working out.
but i know for some people, that's not the same for them, and that's completely fair. they work hard on what they make, either through writing, through artwork, comics, animation, even just putting down their thoughts. its natural to have that part of you that wants to be seen and appreciated for what you made, even if it is self-indulgent and not a lot of people will relate to it.
and i am sorry to all of you who are in that boat, feeling like what you made isnt good enough because not many noticed it, that you don't have people asking about your f/os or s/is, that anything you made with love isn't getting that same response. i know it's hard, and honestly i wish i knew what i could say that would help you to feel better. but please just know that you're really not alone, and just because you aren't seen doesn't mean you aren't good enough for this community.
honestly the best advice i could try to give is that you still have a corner for where you can freely express your love for the characters that bring you happiness, and even if you don't have much of an audience, i think it's worth remembering that your f/os are your #1 supporters through and through, no matter what type of attention you get. they're happy that you love to talk about them, draw them, gush about them, even if no one sees it. they're happy that you've dedicated a space just about them.
and even if you don't get much notice out of it, please remember that you still deserve a place to feel safe and free.
it's going to be okay. i promise. please take care of yourself. its what your f/os would want, i'm sure.
#the bun talks#f/o community#self ship community#self-ship community#selfship community#f/o#selfship#self ship#self-ship#safeship#safeshipping#selfshipping#self shipping#self-shipping#sorry if this is messy my tummy hurts#and i really hope this comes across as positive and gentle i reallt tried hard with the wording
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Broken Promises
Pairing: Banda Sunato x Reader
Genre: Angst, Smut
Words: 2,9k
Summary: You never expected to find your ex-husband in the Borderlands, of all places. Especially not when he was supposed to be on death row.
Warnings ⚠️ Established Relationship, Mentions of Murder, Serial Killers, is Banda after all
Notes: This was requested by the lovely @ch-xr that loves fictional unhinged men as much as I do <3 hope you enjoy it! (Also, I know Banda supposedely only murdered 4 women, but for dramatics sake I made him more... prolific.)
Masterlist | AO3
His eyes on you made you more nervous than anything you had experienced in this retched place until then. It was both a familiar and unfamiliar feeling, filled with the promise of pain and suffering if you did as much as attempt to look in his direction, which you quickly realized you didn’t want to do.
Coward, a tiny voice in your head accused as you made yourself even smaller in your seat. But you couldn’t help the emotions that being under his predatory gaze evoked within you; primal fear, the uncontrollable need to freeze or flight. You knew that fighting was out of the question where he was concerned. You couldn’t even gather the courage to try it.
Unfortunately, there was no place for you to run or hide in this prison. Not until you left the game a winner.
Or died. One of the two.
You could feel your shoulders tense up as the next round approached minute by minute, and so you hurried to finish your meal, barely tasting the chocolate crumbs on your tongue.
The Jack of Hearts was an easier game than most in your humble opinion, and you were lucky enough to trust your game partner (for now at least) – still, the very real possibility of your demise was always hovering over your head like the dark cloud that it was. However, given your current circumstances, dying didn’t seem like the worse fate you could have.
“You know him, don’t you?”
You jumped in your seat as a man sat beside you, almost choking on your cookie as you tried to hide the grimace that took over your expression as your partner’s eyes sharply looked into yours. You coughed as you shook your head, already denying it despite not even asking whom he was referring to.
“You do.”
“What?” you tried, faking ignorance, only making him roll his eyes.
“Him,” Chishiya said as he nodded in the direction of the man still watching you. “Banda. You know him, don’t you?”
You knew that Chishiya was smarter than most, but you were still impressed by how observant he could be. Or were you that obvious in your state of fear?
“What makes you say that?”
“He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you while you’ve been doing the exact opposite.”
“So what?” you shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but knowing you failed when Chishiya raised a brow. “He just makes me uncomfortable, that’s all. You know as well as I do that he’s a serial killer.”
That would be the understatement of the century.
Banda Sunato didn’t just make you uncomfortable; you feared him to a degree that made you almost incapable of functioning, all your senses focused on him 24/7, waiting for the moment he would strike. Because it wasn’t a matter of if – you knew him too well to ever believe that – but a matter of when; when he would catch you alone.
Because he wasn’t just a serial killer and – to you – he wasn’t just some man, some criminal. He was one of Japan’s most infamous serial killers, with 24 victims confirmed, and who knew how many were still left to admit. Banda Sunato was a man destined to live the rest of his days on death row, until the day he would be executed for his crimes and finally go back to the hell he had spawned from.
You so happened to be the woman that had called him your husband.
“Chishiya.” His voice made a shiver run down your spine, and you could feel your heart start racing against your chest as Banda sat right in front of you, his hands in your field of vision as you stared down at the tabletop. You hadn’t even noticed him approach. “I would like to speak with her alone…”
You gulped as you side-eyed the man beside you, imploring him with your eyes to please not leave you alone with him. However, either by ignorance or cruelty, your pleas fell on deaf ears, and Chishiya stood up and left the table with nothing else but a nod and a wordless hum.
A moment went by where neither you nor Banda said a word, his fingers tip-tapping on the table’s surface in a familiar rhythm; one one two, one one two. Tap tap tap, tap tap tap. He used to tap that same rhythm against your naked skin, and you could always tell if something was bothering him by how fast his movements were. And right now, his fingers were drumming against the tabletop like a nervous tick.
You could feel his eyes on you, observing you, pressuring you into doing or saying something, to give him a reason to act. So, you stayed still, controlling your shaky breathing as your hands trembled. You knew this moment was coming the moment you entered this game arena and your eyes locked.
Then his movements suddenly stopped, and you held your breath.
“You’re scared of me,” he said in a low tone, matter of factly.
“C-Can you blame me?” you whispered back, hiding your hands under the table with a gasp when he attempted to graze his fingers against yours. “Don’t touch me!” you added when his hand followed your movements, grabbing your sleeve.
“I don’t like it.”
You said nothing, eyes still cast down. How could he expect you not to fear him after everything he had done?
“You know better than to be scared,” he continued, a faint hint of annoyance in his tone. You forced yourself to whisper a retort, gathering the courage to say it aloud when he asked, “What did you say?”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you murdered all those women,” you let out, eyes locking on his. He was not angry as you thought he would be, but you could see he wasn’t happy by the small crease in between his brows. He looked at you like you were a child throwing a tantrum and he was the adult that had to make you see reason. For the first time since you saw him again, you started to feel something else than just fear.
“You know I would never hurt you,” he said, fingers gripping your sleeve as he pulled your arm to him.
“I don’t know you, Sunato.” You shook your arm out of his grasp, suddenly aware that others were watching you. Good. “I never really did.”
You gasped when he said your name, looking into his eyes; it was the first time you were hearing it from his lips since he had been ruled guilty of all those murders. You hadn’t dared to read his letters or accept any of his calls since then.
“You know that’s not true,” he said. You averted your eyes again, looking back at him as he repeated your name. “I treated you well, didn’t I?”
He did treat you well. That was why it hurt even more. Because the man that dried your tears after your mother’s passing, took you on random trips and made you laugh with his dark sense of humor couldn’t possibly be the same man that dumped women’s maimed bodies in shallow graves. That was why part of you still mourned the husband you had lost even though more than three years had gone by. The other part simply acted as if he had never existed in the first place.
“You didn’t visit,” he added after a moment of silence. “You promised you would.”
“That was a promise I had to break.”
His face and his name had been everywhere. Every news channel, every newspaper, every time you logged on to social media, there he was; Banda Sunato, 25 years old, The Tokyo Ripper, accused of the horrible murder of 24 women. You hadn’t believed it at first, not even when his only survivor identified him, not even when they matched his DNA, not even when more evidence was found connecting him to the crime scenes. You only believed it when you saw the truth in his eyes, crude and black as coal as the judge declared him guilty and he had no reaction but to smirk.
It was like a mask falling, and underneath it was a monster that you swore you had no idea existed.
You couldn’t lie to yourself after that. Not when everyone could see him for who he really was. Not when he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. Not even from you.
“Do you still love me?”
The question made you gasp in surprise before you felt a frown distort your features.
“Don’t talk to me about love when you don’t even know what the word means,” you spat in his direction as you made a move to stand up; how dare he ask such a thing after what he had done to you?
You gasped as you felt his long fingers curl around your wrist in a tight grip, forcing you to sit back down at the table with visible commotion. You felt your face heat up as you tried to ignore everyone’s looks and whispers. He wouldn’t dare to hurt you in front of others, would he?
His hand let go of your wrist to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His face was so close to yours that you could smell him, that scent that made him him, fresh and misty with a hint of ginger. It made you want to take a deep breath and tears pool in your eyes. You missed him.
“That was not what I asked,” he corrected with a dangerous look in his gaze. He was upset, you could see that, but you also knew him better than anyone. “Do you still love me?”
Your breath got caught in your lungs, and you couldn’t look away from his dark brown eyes, the ones you used to love so much. The ones you still loved, you realized with a tightness in your chest.
“Do you?” you asked in a whisper. “Did you ever love me?”
Something shifted in his eyes, and for a moment you just stared at each other. Then he opened his mouth, but before he could talk a computer voice snapped both of you out of your bubble.
“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”
You took that chance to flee, legs shaking as you made your way to the cells on the upper level. You didn’t hesitate as you closed yourself in one, pressing your hands against the sink on the furthest wall and closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath, followed by a low sob.
This game was not what was going to kill you; he was. You had seen it in the way he had looked at you, the way his eyes had darkened when you asked if he had ever truly loved you. You doubt he could ever love anyone, but whatever he felt for you was strong enough to make a chill run down your spine when you thought about it.
It was possessive, primal, like a need. You used to love it when he looked at you like that, mistaking it for passion and devotion. But not now, when you knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if he couldn’t have you.
He had told you that himself, in the first and only letter you had accepted from him. You had ignored every phone call, and had thrown in the trash every note and every other letter; but not that one. Not the one he wrote for your birthday, your second one after he had been sentenced. You felt so lonely, still crying over the husband you had lost, tricking yourself into believing he was dead. Rather dead than a murderer.
And then there was that letter, written in his neat handwriting, spelling out your name, and that was when you realized you couldn’t deny the truth anymore.
You filed for divorce after that, praying to every god that was listening that Banda Sunato never got the chance to be free and chase you down.
Gods – if they even existed – clearly had a twisted sense of humor.
“You know you can’t run from me.”
You tensed as his voice sounded behind you, not exactly surprised to find him stepping in and closing the door before the familiar click of a lock echoed in your ears. You were now locked in a cell with him; you were going to die.
You couldn’t utter a word as a moment passed, eyes focused on him as he calmly walked to stop right in front of you, hands behind his back and a light smirk on his lips. He looked smug, like a fox that had caught the rabbit, but you knew that his emotions were more complex than that. You could see it in the arch of his brow, how tense his jaw was; a small part of him was as nervous as you were.
“Please, give your answer,” the game demanded.
“Spades,” he said, eyes locked on yours. You said nothing, too transfixed by him, waiting for a sign of what he was about to do next. “Say your deck, baby,” he told you after a moment. “C’mon, use your words.”
“H-Hearts,” you forced yourself to utter in a whisper. You almost wished for your answer to be wrong; that way you wouldn’t have to face him anymore. He couldn’t hurt you if you were dead.
You jumped in place as a bang somewhere down the hall announced someone’s mistake, and the doors unlocked soon after. You let out a shaky breath; you were still alive. The game hadn’t killed you yet.
“Aren’t you happy to be alive,” he whispered in your ear, fingers combing through your hair just on the verge of too roughly. “Alive and with me, together again as we were meant to be?”
You shook your head, hands on his chest weakly pushing him away.
“Let me go,” you breathed out in a shaky tone, whimpering as he pushed you against the sink. “Please. I can’t do this…”
“Do what? Be with your husband?”
“Sunato, please, stop-”
“Shh, calm down,” he cooed against your head, arms hugging you closer despite your attempts to push him away. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
You gave up then, falling into his embrace. You sobbed against his chest like he had come back from the dead, hugging him like you were afraid he would disappear. The last three years weren’t real; you were still happily married, and he hadn’t killed anyone. You could almost forget where you were and what he had done. Everything would be so much easier if you did.
He was caught by surprise when you kissed him – you could hear it in his gasp and the way he suddenly tensed before relaxing and cupping your cheeks in his hands, urging you to deepen the kiss. You didn’t stop him there, letting his hands roam over your body as he made you sit up on the sink, lips only leaving yours to suck and nibble at the skin available on your neck and chest.
You closed your eyes as the man that had destroyed your life all those years ago ravished you with abandon. He had blood on his hands and he had betrayed you beyond forgiveness. But did any of that matter now?
You refused to believe it did.
Not when his kisses felt like fire on your skin, the cold ceramic of the sink under you barely noticeable as he stripped you naked from the waist down, fingers at your burning core the moment your panties were discarded aside. You were dripping wet before he even touched you, legs shaking as you worked him free of his belt. You wanted him inside you. You would die without him.
“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he whispered against your cheek as he rutted into you, slender fingers gripping your hip and raising a knee up as he fucked you at a rapid pace, hips snapping against the back of your thighs.
Your core burned in pleasure and pain, your whines and moans muffled by his mouth as he made you feel every inch of him. You had missed his body against yours, his cock inside you, hard and hot and maddening. He fucked you like it was the last time, forcing you to take every inch of him again and again until you were hoarse from screaming and your neck and chest were marked with his teeth. It reminded you of your life from before, when he would come home and fuck you like you were nothing but a whore, leaving you crying, bruised, and dripping with his cum before kissing you senseless and taking care of you for the rest of the night.
Only after did you realize he fucked you like that after a successful killing.
It was madness. All of this. But why would you care when the world itself had become mad?
“Promise you’ll stay with me?” you hesitantly asked as you regained your breath, his forehead pressed against yours and his cum dripping down your leg.
The way he looked at you – full of desire and contentment – made you gift him a smile of your own. He smiled back, a genuine smile, and, for the first time since he was gone, you felt at peace.
“I do. And I never break a promise. I’m not letting you go.”
#alice in borderland#sunato banda x reader#banda sunato#banda x reader#ima wa no kuni no alice#aib fanfic#aib banda
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