#I don’t know why I’m in a slump I just don’t like anything I draw at | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kiemiu · 4 months ago

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' 𝓟𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝓟𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑶 '

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 9k+

synopsis kang sae-byeok, a quiet, brooding, girl who keeps to herself has an entire sketchbook dedicated to you. her infatuation stretches across multiple pages yet she struggles to talk to you, until her best friend, ji-yeong finds out and gives her the push she needs.

genre fluff, angst, heavy pining | warnings none really.

masterlist | enjoy <3

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages and the faint tapping of fingers on keyboards. Sae-byeok sat at the far corner of the room, head bent over her sketchbook. The sunlight streaming through the window fell across her dark hair, but her focus remained entirely on the pencil gliding across the paper.

She was drawing you again.

It had become a habit—sketching your soft smile, the way your hair frames your face, or the sparkle in your eyes when you laughed. Her crush on you was anything but subtle to her own heart. If someone were to flip through her sketchbook, it would be embarrassingly obvious just how much she liked you.

Lost in the depth of her work, Sae-byeok failed to notice Ji-yeong slipping into the seat beside her until she let out a low whistle.

“What’s this, Sae-byeok?” Ji-yeong’s teasing voice cut through the silence, making Sae-byeok freeze.

“Nothing,” Sae-byeok muttered quickly, snapping her sketchbook shut and glaring at Ji-yeong, who was already grinning wide like a Cheshire cat.

“Oh no, no, no.” Ji-yeong leaned over, her quick hands darted to snatch the sketchbook before Sae-byeok could blink. “If it’s nothing, then why do you look so guilty?” she asked, her figure rising out of the seat to create room between the two.

“Ji-yeong, give it back,” Sae-byeok hissed, her voice low yet sharp. Her face began to turn red.

Ji-yeong flipped the sketchbook open and gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait, wait… are these… drawings of her?” Her voice rose slightly, earning a glare from the librarian, but Ji-yeong didn’t care. She looked between the detailed sketches and Sae-byeok, her grin widening. “You’re so in love it’s pathetic!”

“Shut up,” Sae-byeok growled, reaching towards Ji-Yeong to try and grab the sketchbook, but Ji-yeong held it out of reach, trying to muffle her laughter with one hand as the sketchbook, one of Sae-Byeoks’ most prized possessions, dangled carelessly from her other hand.

“I mean, look at this!” Ji-yeong waved the sketchbook around, flipping through the pages. “This one’s from that time she wore her hair down last week, isn’t it? And this one—oh my god, you even got the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles. You’re fucking obsessed, dude!”

Sae-byeok slumped back in her chair, groaning in defeat. “Ji-yeong, I swear, if you don’t shut up—”

“Or what? You’ll glare at me like you do to everyone else? Face it, Sae-byeok, you’re a lovesick puppy.” Ji-yeong chuckled, before finally setting the sketchbook back down in front of her friend. “It’s cute, though. You’re usually so cold and distant, but around her, you’re a total marshmallow.”

“I’m not,” Sae-byeok muttered as she sank further into her seat, but her flushed face betrayed her.

“Oh, you are,” Ji-yeong teased, propping her chin in her hand and smirking. “You should just tell her, you know. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Sae-byeok shot her a withering look. “You mean besides her thinking I’m a complete creep and never talking to me again?”

Ji-yeong rolled her eyes. “Please. She’s way too nice for that. And honestly, I think she’d be flattered—have you seen the way she looks at you? You could be talking about the price of milk and she’s still be all googly-eyed—I’m telling you, there’s hope for you two.”

Sae-byeok shook her head, muttering under her breath. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Ji-yeong only grinned wider, leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. “Fine, don’t believe me. But if you keep staring at her like that, she’s eventually gonna be able to tell you like her. Might as well get ahead of it sooner than later and confess.”

Sae-byeok glared at her, but Ji-yeong just winked and leaned back in her chair. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend,” she said. “I could’ve shown her your little sketchbook and really embarrassed you.”

Ji-Yeong’s empty threat made Sae-byeok’s eyes widen in alarm, making Ji-yeong laugh in return, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, I wouldn’t actually do that to you. But seriously, you need to make a move, Sae-byeok. You’re too talented to keep something like this hidden forever. And you're a catch, any girl would be lucky to have you fawn over them.”

With a gentle pat on Sae-Byeok's shoulder, Ji-yeong walked off, slightly chuckling to herself. Sae-byeok sighed and glanced down at her sketchbook. Her latest sketch of you stared back at her, the delicate lines capturing the softness she saw every time she looked at you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The classroom buzzed faintly with activity, but Sae-Byeok’s entire world had narrowed down to two things: protecting her sketchbook from Ji-yeong’s meddling and trying not to combust from embarrassment. Ji-yeong, ever the troublemaker, was still smirking like she had just uncovered the most scandalous secret of the century.

“You can’t keep doing this forever, you know,” Ji-yeong said, leaning closer with a knowing look. “Eventually, she's going to figure it out. And when she does, wouldn’t you rather it be because you told her and not because she caught you staring at her for the hundredth time?”

“I don’t stare,” Sae-byeok snapped, her cheeks heating up again.

Ji-yeong arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, please. You’re practically a spotlight. Every time she walks into the room, your eyes are glued to her like you’re in some cheesy kdrama.”

Sae-byeok groaned, rubbing her temples as if that would make Ji-yeong disappear. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun,” Ji-yeong replied with a shrug, grinning mischievously. “Also, because I think you’d be cute together. You’re all cold and brooding, and she’s all sweet and sunshiney.” And as if a sudden revelation came to Ji-Yeong, a wide smile stretched across her face as she snapped her fingers and pointed at Sae-Byeok. “You're like those two care bears.”

“Can you stop talking?” Sae-byeok muttered, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

But Ji-yeong wasn’t done yet. She propped her chin in her hand, glancing across the room at you before her eyes zeroed in on Sae-Byeok, her head tilting as if she was analyzing her. “You know, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else might.”

Sae-byeok froze. The thought of someone else confessing to you, seeing you smile at someone else the way she wished you’d smile at her, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Ji-yeong noticed the shift in her expression and leaned closer, her voice softer now. “Hey, I’m just teasing you, but seriously… I think you should go for it. You don’t have to confess right away. Just, I don’t know, talk to her? Start small.”

Sae-byeok’s gaze flicked to you again. You were still oblivious to the chaos happening on her side of the room, your head tilted slightly as you focused on your own notebook. You looked so peaceful, so effortlessly beautiful, and Sae-byeok felt her heart ache.

“I wouldn’t even know what to say,” Sae-byeok admitted quietly, her gaze drifting from you to her lap as she picked at her nails, a subtle pout covering her face.

Ji-yeong softened at her friend’s rare vulnerability. “Just be yourself. She already likes you as a person—you’re not invisible, you know. She says hi to you every time she sees you, and she smiles at you like you’re the only one in the room. You’re honestly not as hopeless as you think.”

Before Sae-byeok could respond, Ji-yeong suddenly sat up straighter, her mischievous grin returning. “Actually, why don’t we test that theory right now?”

“What? What are you—” Sae-byeok’s words caught in her throat as Ji-yeong raised her hand, waving enthusiastically in your direction.

“Hey!” Ji-yeong called out cheerfully, cupping her hands around her mouth, before starting to wave you over.

Sae-byeok’s heart nearly stopped. She grabbed Ji-yeong’s wrist to try and pull her back down to her seat, her eyes wide with panic. “Ji-yeong, no!”

But it was too late. You had already looked up from your notebook, your eyes meeting Ji-yeong’s first before shifting to Sae-byeok’s panicked form. A warm smile spread across your face as you gave a small wave back. “Hi, Ji-yeong! Hi, Sae-byeok!”

Sae-byeok felt like she was about to pass out. Her face was burning, and her throat felt tight as she tried to find something—anything—to say as you started to make your way over, completely oblivious to the emotional turmoil Sae-Byeok had been fighting beforehand.

Ji-yeong, ever the instigator, grinned and nudged Sae-byeok with her elbow. “Don’t be rude, Sae-byeok. Say hi back.”

Sae-byeok shot Ji-yeong a murderous glare before reluctantly looking back at you. “Hi,” she managed to mumble, her voice barely audible.

You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening. “Are you two working on something together?”

Ji-yeong’s grin widened, and Sae-byeok knew she was about to say something that’d make her want to crawl into a hole and die.

“I'm glad you asked! Sae-byeok here was just showing me some of her amazing drawings,” Ji-yeong said, her tone all too enthusiastic.

Sae-byeok’s eyes widened in horror. “Ji-yeong—”

“Really?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. You leaned forward slightly, your gaze flicking to the sketchbook in Sae-byeok’s firm grasp. “That’s so cool! Can I see?”

For a moment, Sae-byeok thought her soul had left her body. She clutched the sketchbook even tighter to her chest, shaking her head quickly. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice a little too sharp. “Just… doodles.”

Ji-yeong let out a dramatic sigh, clearly disappointed that her plan had been thwarted. “She’s being shy,” she said to you with a playful wink. “But trust me, she’s really talented.”

You smiled at Sae-byeok, your eyes warm and genuine. “I’d love to see your work sometime, if you’re okay with it.”

Sae-byeok’s heart felt like it was about to explode. She could barely manage a nod, her voice completely failing her.

You didn’t seem to mind her awkwardness. You gave her another soft smile before turning your body to walk away. “No pressure,” you said kindly. “But I really mean it.”

As you settled back into your seat, Ji-yeong turned to Sae-byeok with a smug grin. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Sae-byeok glared at her, but there was no real heat behind it. Her heart was still racing, and she couldn’t stop replaying your words in her head.

Maybe, just maybe, Ji-yeong was right. But for now, she was just grateful you didn’t think she was a complete weirdo who lacked social skills.

The classroom’s normal buzz returned as everyone focused on their individual projects, but Sae-byeok felt like the room had closed in around her. Her heart still pounded erratically, and she couldn’t seem to shake the discomfort of her sweaty palms. Ji-yeong’s teasing, however, had slowed to a simmer as she watched Sae-byeok carefully, a knowing grin still lingering on her lips.

“You’re really bad at hiding it, you know,” Ji-yeong teased, nudging Sae-byeok’s arm. “You’re practically glowing after that.”

Sae-byeok tried to pretend she wasn’t utterly wrecked from the interaction, but her red cheeks were a dead giveaway. “I’m not glowing,” she muttered, her voice tight, her gaze fixed firmly on her sketchbook as if it would somehow protect her from the world and drown out the nonsense spewing from Ji-Yeong.

“Sure,” Ji-yeong said, unconvinced, her tone dripping with mischief. “You’re just that naturally red in the face.”

Sae-Byeok didn’t respond, instead focusing intently on her scribbles, wishing she could sink into the desk and disappear while Ji-yeong leaned back in her chair, still watching her with a knowing glint in her eyes.

“You know,” Ji-yeong continued after a beat, clearly enjoying Sae-byeok’s discomfort, “I think it’s time for you to stop hiding behind your sketches.”

“I’m not hiding,” Sae-byeok mumbled, her face still burning as she turned the page in her sketchbook, hoping to drown out the conversation by immersing herself in her drawings.

Ji-yeong only snickered in response. “Right. Sure, keep telling yourself that.” She didn’t seem bothered at all by Sae-byeok’s persistent awkwardness. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous. If you just talked to her—honestly talked to her—I bet she’d be thrilled. You two would be really cute together.”

Sae-byeok shot her a quick look but didn’t respond. Instead, she tried to focus on her work, picking up a pencil to sketch out another landscape. Every so often, her eyes would flicker toward you, who was still absorbed in your work, and she would quickly look away, heart pounding helplessly in the confines of her chest.

Ji-yeong noticed the shift in her gaze, of course. She nudged her again, this time more gently. “You should ask her to hang out sometime. Like… outside of class. That could give you a chance to, you know, actually talk to her.”

Sae-byeok’s heart lurched at the suggestion, but she just shook her head, silently hoping for the conversation to end. “I don’t know, Ji-yeong,” she muttered, barely louder than a whisper. “I just—I’m not good at that kind of thing.”

Ji-yeong smirked. “What? Talking to people?” She paused, leaning back with a feigned look of shock. “You, Kang Sae-byeok? Not good at talking to people? Impossible.”

Sae-byeok sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath. Sae-Byeok felt her mind slowly start to wander back to the way you had smiled at her earlier, so soft and genuine and the way you’d mentioned how much you'd love to see her drawings sometime.

She replayed the conversation in her head over and over again. Despite her awkwardness, she realized you hadn’t seemed put off by her discomfort. If anything, you’d been kind, patient even. That small interaction, just a few words, felt like something monumental to her, even if it hadn’t been much at all.

Sae-byeok bit her lip, her resolve softening, even if just a little. Maybe Ji-yeong was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding behind her art and finally take that step, even if it felt terrifying.

As if on cue, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Sae-byeok quickly gathered her things, still deep in thought as Ji-yeong bounced up from her chair, stretching with a dramatic yawn before turning to her friend with a final departing message. “I’m telling you, Sae-byeok. Don’t wait too long. She’s waiting for you to make a move. I can tell.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sae-byeok muttered, too tired to argue.

Ji-yeong raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press. “Well, if you do decide to confess your undying love, at least tell me first so I can get some popcorn.”

Sae-byeok shot her a half-smile, though it was more out of exhaustion than amusement. “I’ll let you know,” she promised quietly.

As Sae-byeok walked out of the classroom, she couldn’t help but glance over at you one more time. You were packing up your things, completely unaware of the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

What would it be like to just say it? To tell you how she felt? It seemed almost impossible, but with Ji-yeong’s encouragement still ringing in her ears, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—she could do it.

But not today, Sae-byeok thought. Not yet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next day, Sae-byeok found herself at a crossroads. She had made it through the morning without embarrassing herself too badly, but now, as lunch started to approach, she couldn’t seem to escape the thoughts that kept floating around in her mind. You were sitting across the room, casually chatting with one of your friends, and Sae-byeok was once again fighting the urge to stare.

She finally decided to take a deep breath and turn the page of her sketchbook. It wasn’t much, just a quick sketch of the view from the classroom window, but it was something. It was one of five unfinished landscape drawings she had conjured in her sketchbook dedicated to you just in case someone were to ask to see what she was drawing.

Her fingers gently traced a line that bled through onto the paper from a previous sketch. Without needing to turn the page she easily recognized it was the curve of your jaw.

She looked up once more, to already see you looking right at her.

For a beat, neither of you moved, locked in an unexpected moment of eye contact. Sae-byeok’s heart leapt into her throat, but this time, she didn’t look away, even as you made your way towards her.

You smiled, soft and reassuring, as if you had known all along what she was thinking. “Your sketches are amazing, you know that?” you called out gently, breaking the silence.

And just like that, Sae-byeok’s world tilted once again. This time, though, she didn’t feel the overwhelming panic that she was used to.

She felt hope.

Sae-byeok’s heart skipped a beat, her grip tightening on her pencil as she tried to process your words. For a moment, she was frozen, as if her mind couldn’t catch up to her body. ‘ Did she just say that? '

You were still looking at her, your smile warm and genuine, and that made Sae-byeok’s breath catch in her throat. She had expected to be swallowed by her own embarrassment for not knowing how to open up her mouth and speak or drop her pencil and rush out of the room like she always did when she suddenly felt cornered. But this time? It was different. You were being… kind. And not just kind in the way people are to acquaintances. You were really noticing her.

Her mouth went dry as she finally managed to croak out a response. “Uh… thanks,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. She quickly looked back down at her sketchbook, feeling a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. There was no possible way she’d be able to look at you for more than a second without completely melting in her seat.

But then, you spoke again. “No, seriously. I think it’s really cool that you draw. I mean, I don’t know if I could ever do it. Maybe one day I could try, though?”

Sae-byeok’s eyes shot up to meet yours again, and this time, she didn’t look away. You were still smiling at her, and there was an openness in your expression that made her heart race all over again. You were… interested? In her art?

The weight of it hit her like a wave. She hadn’t expected this—any of this. She had always kept her feelings locked inside, bundled up in secret sketches no one ever saw. And yet, here you were, reaching out to her without hesitation.

“Maybe,” Sae-byeok replied softly, her voice a little steadier now. “If you ever want to try, I could show you… how I do some of it.”

Your eyes lit up even more, if that was even possible. “I’d love that! Maybe we could even sit together one day, and you could teach me some things? I think it’d be really fun.”

The offer was simple, and it shouldn’t have made Sae-byeok’s heart beat faster, but it did. Her mind raced with possibilities. Sitting together? Teaching her? The words felt too good to be true, like something out of a dream. She tried to keep her cool, but it was getting harder by the second.

Before she could respond, Ji-yeong appeared beside her, tapping her desk with a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “Well, well, well… what’s all this about teaching, huh?”

Sae-byeok’s heart jolted as she turned to look at her friend, who was clearly enjoying the scene. “Ji-yeong, please don’t,” she said, a hint of panic in her voice.

But Ji-yeong wasn’t backing down. “What? I’m just curious. Are we talking about art lessons? Or is this some kind of secret rendezvous? Because it looks like something very interesting is happening here.” she teased, her eyes flickering back and forth between you and Sae-byeok while her eyebrows lifted up and down suggestively.

You, to Sae-byeok’s relief, seemed unfazed by Ji-yeong’s teasing. Instead, you smiled and said, “I was just telling Sae-byeok how much I’d like to try drawing. I thought it could be fun if she helped me out.”

Sae-byeok blinked, surprised by how calm and unbothered you were. How casual you were about all of it, she couldn’t help but admire that.

“Hmm,” Ji-yeong said, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. “You two are practically a match made in art class, huh?”

Sae-byeok wanted to hide under the desk at that moment, but she couldn’t help but smile at Ji-yeong’s antics. Her teasing was annoying, but somehow, it felt less intense. It felt easy and light, possibly due to you smiling at her like you meant it. Like you were really excited to sit down and draw with her, your affection made the butterflies in Sae-Byeok’s stomach thrash around harder.

“Anyway,” Ji-yeong said, her tone lightening as she leaned back against the desk, “I think it’s a great idea. You should definitely teach her, Sae-byeok. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even turn her into a drawing expert.”

Sae-byeok chuckled softly, feeling a slight sense of relief wash over her. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but there was a comfort in the idea that maybe things weren’t as complicated as she’d made them out to be. Maybe it was okay to let things unfold naturally, one step at a time. Maybe—just maybe—she didn’t have to carry the crushing weight of her feelings alone anymore.

“Okay,” Sae-byeok said, her voice a little steadier. “We can do that. I’ll show you some basics next time we get a chance together.”

Your smile widened, and for a split second, Sae-byeok swore her heart stopped beating altogether. You weren’t just being polite anymore. There was something genuine, something real in your smile that made everything feel… possible.

“I can’t wait,” you said, your voice light and happy. “Thanks, Sae-byeok.”

And in that moment, it wasn’t just the words that made Sae-byeok’s chest tighten with hope. It was the way you looked at her, the way you said her name like it meant something special. Her name being something only she wanted you to say until the end of time.

Sae-byeok felt a sudden rush of emotions, a mixture of excitement, disbelief, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced down at her sketchbook, feeling a warm flush crawl up her neck. She had always kept her art to herself, hidden behind the privacy of her sketches, but now, someone else was showing interest. And not just anyone—you.

The quiet connection they had started to form felt so fragile, like it could slip away with just one wrong move. But in that moment, Sae-byeok couldn’t help but feel a quiet, hopeful joy stirring inside her, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

Ji-yeong, ever the perceptive one, leaned in with a sly smile, watching the two of you closely. “Look at you two,” she teased, nudging Sae-byeok with her elbow. “You’re both smiling like this is the beginning of a rom-com or something.”

Sae-byeok couldn’t help but gently laugh at her friend’s antics, the tension in her chest easing as she realized Ji-yeong wasn’t teasing her with malicious intent—she was just happy to see her friend finally open up to someone that obviously meant a lot to her. Sae-byeok allowed herself a small, relieved smile.

“I’m just showing her how to draw,” Sae-byeok said quickly, her face growing warmer at the thought. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was she was feeling, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Sure, sure,” Ji-yeong said with a wink. “But don’t forget to give her the advanced lessons. You’ve got some serious skills, girl.”

You smiled softly at their banter, the warmth of your gaze never leaving Sae-byeok. “I’m looking forward to it,” you said, the sincerity in your voice making her heart race again.

Sae-byeok found it hard to focus on anything else as you sauntered away to your next class. She was too busy replaying that moment over and over in her mind, trying to understand the new reality that seemed to be taking shape between the two of you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Over the next few days, Sae-byeok found herself thinking about the lesson she’d promised. Every time she saw you, her heart would flutter—especially when you greeted her with that same bright, open smile and expressed your enthusiasm for the upcoming day. It was as if the whole world had shrunk down to only the two of you, and for the first time in a while, she felt seen. Not just as a quiet, reserved person, but as someone with something to offer. Something valuable, something worth sharing.

Friday arrived faster than she expected, and Sae-byeok had found herself preparing with a nervous excitement she couldn’t quite shake. She’d carefully packed her sketchbook that she left untouched and a few pencils, not knowing exactly how much she should teach you or how to act around you. The idea of sitting down together, the two of you sharing space, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

When she entered the classroom, you were already there, sitting at one of the desks near the back, casually flipping through your own sketchbook. You looked up as she approached, and your smile widened, like you’d been waiting for this moment just as much as she had.

“Hey!” you greeted, the warmth in your voice making her heart skip again. “Ready for our art lesson?”

Sae-byeok blinked, feeling a rush of nerves flood her system, but she pushed it down. “Yeah. I—uh—brought some stuff to get started,” she said, her voice slightly unsteady.

You gestured to the empty seat beside you. “Awesome! Let’s get started then. I’m all yours.”

Sae-byeok sat down, her breath catching as she set her sketchbook between you. There was an electric kind of silence between you for a moment, both of you adjusting to the new dynamic. Sae-byeok could feel the weight of your presence beside her, the quiet attention you gave her as she opened her sketchbook. It felt strange—intimate, almost—but also strangely comforting.

“Okay, um,” she began, clearing her throat to shake off the nerves, “let’s start with something simple. A basic sketch of a still life. It’s a good way to practice proportion and—and shading.”

You nodded eagerly. “Sounds great.”

Sae-byeok set up a few items—a small plant, an empty coffee cup, and a pen—to use as subjects for the exercise. As she demonstrated, showing you how to sketch the outlines and focus on light and shadow, she started to feel a little more at ease being in her element. You watched her closely, following her instructions, there was a relaxed atmosphere between the two of you. No pressure, no expectations—just two people sharing a moment of teaching and learning together.

“Okay, your turn,” she said after a while, glancing at the rough lines you’d sketched on your paper. “Try drawing the cup first. Don’t worry too much about getting it perfect—just focus on the shapes.”

You nodded again, picking up your pencil and starting to draw, while Sae-byeok leaned back a little, giving you space. She watched you, her gaze softening as you concentrated, your tongue poking out slightly in concentration. There was something so endearing about the way you threw yourself into it, not caring if it was perfect, but simply enjoying the process.

“I think you’re a natural,” she said after a few minutes, and you looked up at her, surprised.

“Really?” you asked, your voice light with amusement. “I feel like I’m butchering it.”

Sae-byeok chuckled. “No way. You’re just getting started. But the way you’re shading—it’s pretty good for a beginner.”

You smiled at her praise, and Sae-byeok’s heart did another flip. She wasn’t used to being so direct with compliments, but it felt good. It felt natural with you, everything did.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you replied, grinning, before returning your focus to your sketch.

For the rest of the lesson, you worked side by side, the quiet exchange of glances and small words making the space feel warmer than it had any right to be. Sae-byeok didn’t feel awkward or self-conscious anymore. Instead, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be—right next to you, teaching you something she loved, but also learning about you in the process.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you closed your sketchbook with a satisfied sigh, your face lighting up in a way that made Sae-byeok’s chest tighten. “I had a lot of fun today. Thanks for showing me how to do this,” you said sincerely.

Sae-byeok smiled back, her heart swelling with a mixture of pride and something deeper. “You did great. You’re a quick learner.”

You both stood up, gathering your things, and Sae-byeok was surprised when you hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Hey, maybe we can do this again sometime? I mean, if you want to.”

Sae-byeok felt a flutter in her chest. “I’d like that,” she said before she could stop herself, her voice quiet but steady. “We could—um—work on some more advanced stuff next time. If you’re up for it.”

You smiled warmly, your eyes lighting up. “Definitely. I can’t wait.”

As Sae-byeok left the classroom, her heart was racing again, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was excitement, anticipation for what could come next.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The days that followed felt like a dream to Sae-byeok. Every time she saw you, her heart would skip a beat. The little moments between the two of you—those quiet exchanges of smiles and brief conversations—made her feel lighter, as if she was walking on air. She didn’t even need to try to hide her excitement anymore. It was like you had unlocked a side of her she didn’t know existed, a side that was eager and open to new possibilities.

Soon enough, the next art lesson arrived, and Sae-byeok was exhilarated by just the thought of it. She’d spent the last few days thinking about what you could work on, wondering how she could guide you through the steps. She didn’t want to overwhelm you, but she also wanted to push you just enough to see how much you could grow. And in turn, she could grow alongside you, learning how to be more comfortable with herself and with the space between you.

When you arrived, there was that same bright smile on your face, the one that always made her heart race. “Hey, ready for round two?” you asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sae-byeok smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Yeah, I’ve got a new challenge for you today.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A challenge, huh? I’m ready for it.”

Sae-byeok’s heart fluttered as she pulled out a reference image from her bag—a simple but detailed image of a vase with flowers. “Let’s try something a little more complex today. A still life, but with more detail. You’ll have to pay attention to shadows and perspective.”

You glanced at the image, your expression thoughtful. “That looks… like a lot. But I think I can do it, show me the ropes.”

Sae-byeok couldn’t help but lightly laugh at your enthusiasm. It was contagious, and it made her feel more confident as your guide. She set the image on the desk between the both of you and began to guide you through the process step by step.

“First,” she said, “let’s break it down. Don’t worry about getting every detail right at once. Just focus on the general shape and proportion first. The lines will help you find your way.”

You nodded, pencil in hand, and began sketching out the basic shapes of the vase and flowers. Sae-byeok watched you work, feeling a quiet satisfaction knowing that she was the one helping you learn. It was a strange feeling, but it made her feel good—like she was making a difference, no matter how small.

As the lesson progressed, you asked questions here and there, and Sae-byeok was more than happy to answer. With each step, you seemed to get more confident, your lines becoming steadier, your shading more deliberate. Sae-byeok couldn’t help but admire how much you were improving in such a short amount of time.

“Looking good,” she commented after a while, her voice warm with encouragement. “You’re really getting the hang of it.”

You glanced up at her, your eyes sparkling with pride. “Thanks to you. You’re a great teacher.”

Sae-byeok felt a blush creeping up her neck at the compliment, but she quickly deflected. “It’s all you. You’re a fast learner.”

As you continued working, the silence between you felt comfortable. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. It was just the two of you, working on art and talking about anything and everything. At one point, you even asked her about her favorite artists, and for the first time in a long time, Sae-byeok found herself talking about her passion without hesitation. She had always kept it private, but with you, it felt easy to share.

“Who’s your favorite?” she asked, curious.

You thought for a moment. “I really like the impressionists. Something about the way they use light and color just…I don't know, it speaks to me.”

Sae-byeok smiled. “I get that. Monet’s work is amazing, especially the way he paints landscapes.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! I’ve always wanted to try painting like that.”

Sae-byeok’s eyes softened, and without thinking, she said, “Maybe one day we could try painting together. If you want to.”

The offer hung in the air between you, and for a moment, Sae-byeok’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t believe she had said that. It wasn’t like her to be so open, but she couldn't help it, you had just made everything so easy.

Your face lit up, and you nodded immediately. “I’d really love that. I think that’d be amazing.”

The class came to an end too quickly for Sae-byeok’s liking, and when the bell rang, she felt a wave of reluctance wash over her. She didn’t want this moment to end. But as you packed your things, you turned to her with that same bright smile.

“Thanks for today, Sae-byeok. I had a great time. Let’s do this again soon, okay?”

Sae-byeok’s heart melted as she nodded. “Of course. Anytime.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As time carried on and your sessions became more frequent, your curiosity for what relied beneath the depths of Sae-Byeok’s sketchbook lingered insistently in the back of your mind.

The sun was setting, casting golden light across the room as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the art room with Sae-byeok. Her sketchbook, as always, was tucked securely into her bag, far out of reach, and in its place.

“Make sure you're holding the pencil lightly,” she said, adjusting your grip with her steady hands. Her touch was careful, deliberate. “If you keep pressing too hard, it’ll be difficult to erase mistakes.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the drawing in front of you—a simple landscape with a cherry blossom tree in the middle was what she had placed as reference. Yet your curious eyes kept wandering back to her bag, where her precious sketchbook remained hidden away. You had always admired her art, her ability to bring life to paper, but no matter how many times you asked, she always refused to show you what was in that sketchbook.

“Sae-byeok,” you said teasingly, glancing up at her. “You know, it’s really unfair that you’re teaching me how to draw, but you won’t let me see your best work.”

She stiffened slightly, her pencil pausing mid-stroke on her own paper. “It’s not ready,” she said, her tone clipped. “I told you, it’s just random doodles and practice.”

You frowned, setting your pencil down. “Practice for what? You’re already amazing. I don’t get why you’re hiding it from me.”

Sae-byeok avoided your gaze, the faintest hint of pink creeping up her neck. “It’s personal,” she muttered. “Can we just focus on your drawing?”

You sighed, letting the subject drop—for now. But the curiosity gnawed at you. What could she possibly be drawing that she didn’t want you to see?

The session continued, the two of you falling into a comfortable rhythm, but as the evening wore on, Sae-byeok’s phone wouldn't stop buzzing on the table, making her frown before standing abruptly. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured apologetically before grabbing her phone. “Keep practicing.”

You watched her leave the room, her footsteps fading down the hall. Your gaze drifted back to her bag, left carelessly open in her rush. The corner of her sketchbook peeked out, and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t like Sae-byeok to be so careless with her belongings, the phone call completely gaining all of her attention to just leave everything behind, especially her sketchbook.

Your curiosity got the better of you. Hesitantly, almost guiltily, you reached over and pulled the sketchbook from her bag. Your hands trembling as you flipped it open, half-expecting to find technical practice sketches or random doodles like she said, but what you found was something entirely different.

The first page stopped you cold: it was a drawing of you. The details were unmistakable—your smile, the way your hair fell across your face, the sparkle in your eyes. You stared at it, stunned, before turning the pages.

Another sketch. This time, it was you and Sae-byeok, sitting together on a park bench, her arm draped casually around your shoulders. The next one showed you both in a coffee shop, leaning in close, sharing a laugh.

Your heart raced as you flipped through page after page. The drawings grew more intimate—her figure wrapped around yours in a desperate hug, the two of you sharing a quiet moment under a starry sky. And then, near the back of the sketchbook, was the one that took your breath away: the two of you standing at an altar, dressed in wedding attire, exchanging vows. The detail was immaculate, down to the way her hand cupped yours, the lace detailing on your dress, the sleekness of her plain yet elegant black suit, the soft, yet happy expressions on both of your faces.

You stared at the sketch, your emotions swirling. Sae-byeok had been imagining this—you and her, together, as more than friends. She had been hiding this entire side of herself, these feelings, in her art.

The sound of the door opening startled you, and you quickly looked up to see Sae-byeok standing in the doorway. Her eyes immediately locked onto the sketchbook in your lap, and her expression shifted from mild confusion to alarm.

“Y/N…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the panic in her tone was clear. She crossed the room in three quick strides, snatching the sketchbook from your hands.

"Sae-byeok, I..." You paused, trying to collect your thoughts. "I don't know what to say. This is... a lot."

Sae-byeok clutched the sketchbook to her chest, her face pale. “You shouldn’t have looked,” she muttered, her voice tight with fear. “Th— it wasn’t meant for you to see.”

At the sound of silence and realization striking down on her, Sae-Byeok couldn't help but feel an unwelcome dread wash over her. The way she snatched the book from you, the way she scolded you as if you were a small child with your hand in the cookie jar when she had been drawing pictures of you, she felt her resolve start to slip.

Sae-byeok's face fell even further, her eyes filled with regret as she fought back tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

You shook your head, your heart softening as you saw the pain in her eyes. "No, it's not that. It's just... I didn't expect this. I didn't know you felt this way."

Her eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability she worked so hard to hide. “Because I didn’t want to ruin things,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or—”

“You wouldn’t have,” you interrupted gently. “Sae-byeok, these drawings… they’re beautiful. And the fact that you’ve been imagining us like this…” You trailed off, your cheeks flushing. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. If anything, it makes me feel… special.”

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad?” you repeated, shaking your head. “Of course not. I just wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me sooner.”

"I care about you, Sae-byeok. But I need to know if this is what you really want... or if you were just lost in your own thoughts." you add on, your voice soft, unwavering, and reassuring, the walls Sae-Byeok had built around her own heart slowly starting to break.

Her eyes widened at your words, as if she hadn't expected you to say that. Slowly, she stepped closer to you, her voice quiet but firm. "I want us to be something more. I—I don't want to hide anymore.”

“You mean a lot to me, Sae-byeok. And if you really feel this way then… maybe we could see where it goes. Together.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, her guarded expression softening as your words sank in. Slowly, a small, tentative smile curved her lips. “You’d really want that?” she asked quietly, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

You smiled back, reaching out to rest a hand on her arm. “Yeah, I would.”

The tension between you melted away, replaced by something warm and new. Sae-byeok set the sketchbook down on the table, bringing her hand to rest against yours.. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For not running away.”

“I’d never run away from you,” you replied. “Not when you’ve been brave enough to share this with me.”

And as the two of you stood there, the unspoken feelings that had been hidden in her art finally brought into the open, you knew this was the start of something beautiful—something worth holding onto.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

. . UNCUT SCENE . .

Even after her slip up of leaving her sketchbook in the open for you to find her hidden confessions, the lessons still persisted on as usual. Friday soon became Sae-byeok’s favorite part of the week. With each art lesson, and each shared laugh, she felt the invisible wall she’d built around herself begin to crumble even more. You had a way of making her feel seen—really seen—and it terrified her as much as it thrilled her. She’d never been good at expressing herself, especially when it came to feelings. But lately, every time you smiled at her, every time you looked at her with those kind, genuine eyes, even after everything that had gone down between you two, she felt at peace, now with the thought that her feelings had been reciprocated.

It was after one of your usual lessons, the two of you lingering in the now-empty classroom, both of your sketchbooks spread out on the table. You were showing her a rough attempt at shading, and though you called it clumsy, Sae-byeok thought it was impressive for someone who’d just started. She tried to focus on giving you tips, but her mind kept wandering. The idea had been swirling in her head for days, and the longer she sat there beside you, the harder it became to ignore.

“Sae-byeok?” you said, pulling her from her thoughts. “Are you okay? You’ve been a little quiet.”

Her heart thudded in her chest at the concern in your voice. She quickly looked down at her hands, twisting her pencil nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbled, though her voice betrayed her nerves. “Just… thinking.”

You tilted your head, curiosity dancing in your eyes. “About what?”

Sae-byeok hesitated, her grip tightening on the pencil. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she felt a wave of doubt wash over her. What if she ruined everything? What if you didn’t feel the same? But then she looked at you—at your warm, patient expression—and something inside her told her to take the chance.

“Um…” She cleared her throat, still unable to meet your gaze. “I was just… wondering if… maybe you’d want to—” Her words caught in her throat, and she took a shaky breath, forcing herself to continue. “If you’d want to… hang out. Outside of class.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper by the end, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment even with the knowledge of you reciprocating her feelings. She quickly glanced at you, and the slightly surprised look on your face made her want to crawl under the table. “I mean, you don’t have to!” she added quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just a thought. If you’re busy or not interested, that’s totally fine as well I—”

“I’d love to,” you interrupted, your voice soft but certain.

Sae-byeok froze, her eyes widening as she processed your words. “You… would?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, the warmth in the motion made her chest tighten. “Of course. I think it’d be fun. Did you have something in mind?”

Her mind raced. She hadn’t thought that far ahead—she’d been so focused on just working up the courage to ask you that she hadn’t considered what would happen if you actually said yes. “Uh, maybe… coffee?” she offered, her voice shaky. “Or… or a movie? I mean, if you like movies…”

You laughed gently, and the sound was so light and genuine that it eased some of her nerves. “Coffee sounds perfect,” you said. “How about this weekend?”

Sae-byeok blinked, her heart skipping at the thought of spending time with you—just the two of you. She nodded quickly, afraid she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t. “Yeah. This weekend. That works.”

“Great,” you said, your smile softening as you met her gaze. “It’s a date.”

Her breath hitched at the word, and she felt her face grow even warmer. She didn’t dare correct you, though. Maybe—just maybe—it could be a date.

As you packed up your things and said goodbye, Sae-byeok watched you leave, her heart racing in her chest. She couldn’t believe she’d done it—she’d actually asked you out. And you’d said yes.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The weekend arrived far faster than Sae-byeok was prepared for. She stood in front of the small mirror in her room, staring at her reflection and trying to decide, for the hundredth time, if she looked okay. Her dark hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, and she wore a simple sweater and jeans—nothing too fancy, but nice enough to show she’d put in some effort.

Her stomach churned with nervous energy as she smoothed her sweater for what felt like the millionth time. Was it too plain? Should she have worn something else? But everything else she’d tried on had felt wrong, and this was the only outfit that didn’t make her want to hide under her bed.

She let out a shaky breath, placing her hands on the dresser to steady herself. “Okay, Sae-byeok,” she muttered, her voice low and hesitant. “It’s just coffee. You can do this. It’s not a big deal. People go on coffee dates all the time.”

She bit her lip, her reflection staring back at her with wide, uncertain eyes. “But what if it is a big deal?” she whispered, the fear creeping in. “What if you mess it up? What if you say something stupid, and she never wants to talk to you again?”

Her hands tightened into fists against the dresser as the doubts swirled in her mind. She’d never done anything like this before—never let herself be vulnerable like this. And now, she was about to sit across from you and try to act like she wasn’t completely out of her depth.

She straightened up, gripping the edge of the mirror as if grounding herself. “No,” she said firmly, her voice a little stronger. “You’re overthinking it. She said yes because she wanted to spend time with you. That means something, right?”

Her reflection didn’t answer, but she took a shaky breath, trying to believe her own words. “Just be yourself,” she continued, her tone softening. “She already likes you enough to say yes. You don’t have to be perfect. Just… don’t run away.”

The faintest smile tugged at her lips as she imagined your smile, your warm eyes looking at her like she was someone worth noticing. That thought alone was enough to make her heart race, but it also gave her a flicker of courage.

“You can do this,” she whispered, her voice almost a plea. “You’re strong. You’ve been through worse than this. And maybe… maybe this is your chance to finally have something good.”

With that, she gave herself one last look in the mirror, straightened her sweater again, and grabbed her bag. As she headed out the door, her nerves still buzzed under her skin, but there was a spark of hope that kept her moving forward.

And as she made her way to the café, she repeated one thought in her mind over and over: You can do this. You’re enough.

Sae-Byeok reached the café ten minutes early, her heart hammering in her chest as she approached the glass door. She hesitated for a moment, catching sight of her reflection in the glass. She adjusted her sweater again, tucking her hair behind her ears for what felt like the hundredth time. Her palms were damp, and she wiped them on her jeans before finally stepping inside.

The cozy atmosphere was filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and quiet chatter. Sae-byeok scanned the room quickly, hoping you hadn’t arrived yet. To her relief, the table near the window you’d suggested was still empty. She let out a small, shaky breath and made her way over to claim it.

She sat down, her hands clasped tightly on the table as she waited. The nerves bubbling inside her made it impossible to sit still; she tapped her foot softly against the floor, glancing toward the entrance every few seconds.

When you finally walked in, Sae-byeok felt like the air had been knocked out of her chest. You looked casual but effortlessly pretty, your warm smile lighting up the room as you spotted her. For a split second, she froze, unsure of what to do. But then you waved at her, and despite the frantic beat of her heart, she managed to lift a hand in return.

“Hi,” you said as you reached the table, your voice as cheerful and kind as ever. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

Sae-byeok shook her head quickly, standing up to meet you. “No, not at all,” she said, her voice a little quieter than she intended. “I—I just got here.”

You smiled, setting your bag down as you took the seat across from her. “Perfect timing, then.”

The way you looked at her, your gaze so focused and genuine, made her cheeks warm. She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve under the table, trying to steady her breathing. This was real. You were here, sitting across from her, and it wasn’t just some far-off dream.

“So,” you began, leaning forward slightly. “What’s your go-to coffee order? Or are you more of a tea person?”

Sae-byeok blinked, caught off guard by the question. She wasn’t used to people asking her such simple, thoughtful things. “Uh… coffee,” she said, her voice soft. “Just black, usually.”

“Straight to the point,” you said with a grin. “I like that. Do you want me to grab it for you?”

“Oh—no, it’s okay,” she said quickly, starting to rise from her seat. “I can get it myself.”

But you waved her off with a laugh. “It’s fine, really. Sit tight—I’ll be right back.”

Before she could protest, you were already heading to the counter. Sae-byeok sat back down, her hands gripping her knees under the table as she tried to process what was happening. You were so at ease, so kind, and she couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by it.

Relax, she told herself, taking a deep breath. She likes you. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.

When you returned with two steaming cups of coffee, setting one in front of her with a soft smile, Sae-byeok felt a flicker of warmth spread through her chest. “Thanks,” she murmured, her fingers wrapping around the cup.

“No problem,” you said, taking a sip of your own drink. “So, tell me—how did you get into drawing? I’ve been curious since we talked about it.”

The question made her pause, a mix of shyness and pride bubbling up inside her. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice still quiet. “I guess I’ve always liked it. It’s… easier for me to say things on paper than out loud, I guess.”

You tilted your head slightly, your expression thoughtful. “That makes sense. I think it’s cool how art can show people who you are, even when words feel hard.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, surprised by how effortlessly you seemed to understand her. She felt a faint smile tug at her lips as she replied, “Yeah… something like that.”

The conversation flowed more easily after that, your questions pulling her out of her shell little by little. For the first time in what felt like forever, Sae-byeok felt seen and heard—not just as the quiet, brooding girl in the back of the class, but as someone worth getting to know.

And as the minutes turned into hours, the nerves that had weighed her down began to fade, replaced by a soft, tentative hope. Here the two of you were, indulging in just the beginning of her fantasies, and for once she hadn't envied the girl on the paper of her sketchbook that resembled her, as she was now making her dream into a reality.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection @yourl0caltrash @kidicaruslover911 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @i0nic02 @knfthxv @mina-has-been-here @monroesturnns @everly-summers-solace

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shigarosie · 4 months ago

Text

Butterfly, Fly Away (part one)

Aizawa feels out of breath. Despite the fact that he drove to the daycare center, it feels like he ran the whole way. He doesn’t run inside, but he does do an awkward half jog to get in there quickly without looking like some sort of lunatic.

The room, as expected, is a disaster. Kids are crying. Drawings have been torn up and thrown around, chairs have been overturned. Eri is at the center of it all, with an uninterrupted scream at the top of her lungs that he’s sure has lasted at least a full minute by the way her red face is slowly starting to show hints of purple.

Eri has been kicked out of another daycare.

She skips alongside him merrily as he walks back to the car with him, her little purple bag in one hand while the other holds her own pudgy little palm. You would think that she was a perfectly well behaved little angel if you saw her now, no traces left of her hurricane of an outburst mere minutes ago.

There was a familiar throbbing pain forming like a tight band around his skull.

Once they were in the car, Eri kicking her feet in her carseat and playing with the straps of her bag, Aizawa couldn’t help but spare glances at her in the rearview mirror when he stopped at all the stop signs on the way back to the high school. His daughter was the best, most important thing in his life. He loved her more than anything, no matter what. He just didn’t know what to do with her anymore.

As he parked in his designated spot, five minutes left of his lunch break, Eri hurriedly tried to unbuckled her carseat before Aizawa could get to her. It was a game she liked to play, despite the fact that her clumsy fingers hadn’t yet grown strong enough to fully press the big red button that released the clips. But Aizawa didn’t get out of the car to come around and unbuckle her yet.

“Hurry daddy!” she taunts, grunting as her fingers slip as they always do. “I’m gonna beat you this time!”

“What happened, Eri?”

She paused, looking up at him with those eyes that look almost too big for her head in the sweetest way. She looked unphased. Unashamed, unapologetic.

“I didn’t like it there,” was the simple answer she gave. “Daycare is stupid.”

“But honey,” he sighed, “you know that you have to go. And don’t use the word stupid, please.”

The little girl starts to shift uncomfortably in her seat, no longer trying to unbuckle her restrictive straps, but attempting to pull them down her shoulders instead.

“Why?” she asks, an edge beginning to form where a smooth curve used to exist in her voice. “Why can’t I just come with you to big kid school?”

“Because next year you’ll have to start going to kindergarten, so you can learn new things and make friends. I won’t be able to just drop everything and come get you. Instead you’ll be forced to either sit in your classroom or sit in the principal’s office for hours until big kid school is done.”

Eri slumps in her seat. The tears are welling in her eyes and Aizawa has to look above her head in order to keep talking with her.

“This is the fourth daycare you’ve been kicked out of, honey. That’s not good.”

Eri turns her face away. “Guess you’ll have to maybe take me to a new one then,” she says.

“I can’t.” At this she perks up, catching the feeling of excitement in those little hands of hers before it slips from her grasp and runs off when she sees her dad do that thing where he drags his hand down the entirety of his face and then rubs at his scruffy jaw. “This was the last daycare in our area that I can afford. No more daycares.”

“So I’ll have to come to school with you now, right?” she asks, hopeful eyes shining with a few embarrassed tears that hadn’t yet gone away.

Aizawa doesn’t say anything. He gets out of the car, opens her door, and helps her out of her seatbelt.

“Come on,” he says, holding her bag in one hand and her palm in the other. “Today you get to watch my students take a pop quiz.”

Class 1-A loves Eri. They love to dote on her, like she’s their princess and they are nothing but her humble servants. They don’t bat an eye when she shows up during the second half of the day anymore, used to their visibly stressed teacher sitting her down with coloring pages and an old cd player (there’s no way in hell he would ever put an ipad in her hands) in a poor attempt at a fort under his desk. They felt bad for him, really, knowing how hard he’s had it since…

They also like to sneak little snacks and fidget toys to her when he’s not looking. They get passed down the rows of desks like contraband, making a wide loop around the goody-goodies that rat them out. They think they’re helping, really they do. And it’s endearing. But it makes it more difficult for him, in all actuality, when he’s trying to convince Eri that his classroom is not the place for her to be and they’re doing everything to make it friendly for her. They even stopped swearing when Eri made her little visits. (At least, they tried their best.)

“They’re like her gang of babysitters,” Aizawa explains to Mic as he pulls out a bottle of scotch from the baby proofed cupboard above the fridge and two glasses. Eri had been put to bed an hour prior, after having her bath and getting her hair braided and insisting on TWO stories tonight; one from her dad and one from her godfather. “It just makes her want to be there even more.”

“Maybe that’s what you two need,” Mic says from the sofa, helping himself to some chips and dip.

“What?”

“You know, a babysitter,” the blond elaborates. “Or a nanny, in this case.”

Aizawa’s brow furrows. His lips turn down. Mic can already tell this is going to take a lot of selling. “What’s the difference?”

“Nannies do more,” Mic says, his mouth partially full. He gave up on manners around Aizawa sometime around… well, they met in middle school, so he probably never had them in the first place. “Babysitters are for, like, date nights and stuff.”

“I definitely don’t need one of those,” Aizawa grumbles, handing Mic his glass before settling onto the couch himself.

“Nannies are more long term,” Mic continues, not addressing the comment, “they would stay with her at home the whole day while you work, maybe do some tidying or run some errands for you. It’s like daycare, but more personal and actually not at all like daycare. You just have someone watching your kid all day.”

Aizawa groans, gulping down most of his drink in one go. “I don’t want some stranger in my house alone with my kid. That sounds terrible.”

“Man, they call them nanny cams for a reason. And when you use the websites they do background checks.”

“How do you know so much about nannies?” Aizawa asks suspiciously. Mic had no kids. He had no nieces or nephews. All he had were a bunch of elementary school students singing the same ten annoying songs off key.

“Remember the lady with the two kids I was hooking up with while they were with their dad? She had a nanny.”

“And how long after you stopped seeing the mom did you start sleeping with the nanny?” Aizawa asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey, it’s completely a coincidence that I met her nanny out at a bar one night, okay? Swear on my life. Not like I ever met her before then, I never met the kids!”

“Whatever,” Aizawa says, downing the last of his drink before pouring another. “I’m not getting a nanny.”

“You at least gotta think about it,” Mic says, “you don’t have many other choices here. Unless you want to call your mom and have her-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I recommend you take the weekend to research nanny websites,” Mic says. “You can’t bring your kid to work with you every day. It’s not good for her. It’s not good for you.” Mic leaves his unfinished drink on the coffee table, knowing Aizawa will just drink the rest himself after he leaves. “I should tuck in for the night. Think about it, alright? And I’m right down the street if you ever need anything. And-”

“Good night, Mic.”

“Later.”

Aizawa stays on the couch, sitting in the same spot, staring at the wall in front of him for an hour before he finally sighs to himself.

“Don’t have many other choices,” he grumbles as he pulls his laptop out of his work bag and starts his google search, Mic’s unfinished glass of scotch in hand.

‘best nanny websites’

#posts from the meadow 🌼#shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #no reader in this part because it's setting up the actual story but are we seeing the vision

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greenxgloss · 3 months ago

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Hi! This is my first time writing a request, I'm going through a difficult period in my life, a lot of worries at work and other things...🫠🫠🫠How about a warm and cozy meeting with Yoongi? Something caring and sweet?🫂🍀 thank you

In Sickness and in Soft Sweaters

Word Count: 1.9k Themes: protective!yoongi x Sick!reader, Fluff, Angst maybe??

Of course baby i can do that for you. I hope you like it I was def drawing a blank when I was writing this. I hope it made you feel at least a little better <3

This bus ride felt like the longest one of your life. On your way home, you fought to keep your lunch down, every jolt in the road making your stomach churn. The random bursts of food smells wafting in through the open windows at each stop only made it worse—pure torture. You felt like a pregnant woman trapped in a mall food court. Wishing it was Friday instead of Thursday.

The moment the bus came to your stop, you hurried off faster than usual, your stomach protesting with every step.

“Y/N!? You look awful—why didn’t you call me to pick you up?” Yoongi’s concerned voice reached you just as you bolted through the open door, past him, straight to the bathroom. Dropping to your knees, you barely made it before emptying your stomach into the toilet, your entire body tensing painfully. Yoongi was right behind you, immediately holding your hair up and rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Shit, you should have called me,” he murmured.

Slumped against the bathroom wall, you grabbed some toilet paper to wipe your mouth as Yoongi stood to get you a glass of water. “I don’t—” You took a deep breath, still shaken. “—think you would’ve gotten there any faster than the bus did, baby.”

You sighed, brushing your hair back. “I think I got food poisoning from that fish I brought for lunch. The staff fridge is a fucking joke.”

Yoongi frowned, handing you the water. “And it didn’t smell bad or anything?”

You took a deep swig before glancing up at him. “I was so hungry, I didn’t even notice.” A wave of embarrassment washed over you, and before you could stop it, your face grew hot, eyes welling up with tears.

Sickness always made you emotional—whether it was hormones or just your body’s strange reaction, you didn’t know. But your personal symptom of being sick? Sweats, and uncontrollable crying.

“Oh, baby.” Yoongi let out a soft chuckle before pulling you into a tight hug. “Drink all your water. I’ll run a bath for you, okay?” He pulled back just enough to wipe your tears, his touch gentle, comforting. You nodded and kept sipping your water as Yoongi ran the bath, making sure it was warm.

“You’re definitely sick. You’re already crying,” he murmured, glancing over at you. “Do you need to call in sick for work?” You sniffled, pressing your sleeve to your face. “Yeah, but I used up all my vacation days. I could get fired.”

Yoongi let out a sharp breath, clearly irritated. “That’s—fuck, I’ll call. Give me your phone.” He scoffed, irritation creeping up on him. In your dazed state, you didn’t even hesitate, handing your phone over without a second thought. Yoongi had met your boss once before; safe to say, he already had a strong dislike for the man.

As the tub filled with steaming water, Yoongi tucked your phone into his pocket and turned off the faucet. Then, with gentle hands, he helped you out of your jacket, unbuttoned your shirt, and slipped off your shoes and bottoms before easing you into the tub.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek before standing up and leaving the room.

You could hear his muffled voice from the next room, sharp and firm. “Y/N just got home with terrible food poisoning, and I’m calling in for her. She won’t be able to come in tomorrow.” A pause. Whatever your boss said didn’t sit well, because Yoongi’s tone turned colder. “She can barely function. You have more than enough time to find someone to cover.”

His frustration wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t like you needed the job—Yoongi’s paycheck was more than enough for both of you—but working retail made you feel normal, like you had something of your own.

You hugged your knees under the water, feeling drained and dizzy. A moment later, Yoongi returned, sitting on the floor beside the tub. “It’s all good, baby. I got you tomorrow off,” he reassured, exhaling as he poured a cup of warm water over your hair.

Your boyfriend would go to war for you—you were sure of that much.

“Google says bananas and broth help with food poisoning,” he added with a small smile. You let out a weak chuckle, and he gave you a confused look, like a deer caught in headlights. “What?”

“Nothing,” you murmured, smiling up at him. “I just love you.” Yoongi smiled. “I love you too. Now, what’s it gonna be? Toast and eggs, or broth with bananas for dessert?” He flashed his phone screen at you, showing a Google search for what to eat when you have food poisoning

“You’re such a loser, Min Yoongi,” you groaned, laughing weakly as you buried your head between your knees. He rolled his eyes playfully. “Can’t blame me for wanting to take care of you… maybe being a little protective.” he shrugged, turning back to his phone to scroll, probably for recipes that wouldn't irritate your stomach further.

“I can’t even think about food right now,” you muttered, groaning again as nausea crept up on you. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna puke again.” Yoongi shot up, grabbing the trash can and handing it to you just in time. You bent over the side of the tub, gripping the bucket as another wave hit, your body tensing painfully.

“Let it all out,” he whispered, rubbing your back as you emptied your stomach again.

—

After your bath, Yoongi helped you brush your teeth and tucked you into bed. Carefully walking you to the bedroom as you combat the vertigo from the pressure imbalance in your head.

“You want me to put on a movie while I make your broth?” he asked, setting the now clean trash can beside the bed just in case. You nodded, curling up with the stuffed bear he had given you—the one he got you during your first period when you started dating. It had always brought you comfort, especially on nights when he was away at work and you didn’t have him to curl up with instead.

“Okay, baby. Call me if you need anything.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, tucking you in before letting your favorite movie play on the TV.

You tossed and turned, your body aching down to the bones. At one point, you even tried napping, but time stretched painfully slow. What felt like hours had only been about twenty minutes since Yoongi had gone to the kitchen. And again, you could hear noise a little too excessive for plain broth and a banana.

When he finally returned, he chuckled at the sight of you shifting around restlessly. “What are you doing?” He set the tray of food on the desk before making his way to you. “Baby, is the bed not comfortable?” he asked, helping you sit up and rearranging the pillows and blankets to your liking. You sighed. “No.”

“Then just let me get in next to you.” He smiled, carefully placing the tray on your lap before slipping under the duvet beside you.

Yoongi picked up the spoon and fed you a sip of his homemade broth. “I feel like a child,” you huffed between spoonfuls, pouting slightly. He hummed in amusement. “Just eat and feel better.” As he fed you, he absentmindedly mimicked you, opening his mouth every time you took a bite, making you chuckle.

“I made you banana pudding too,” he added with a proud smile on his face. “That might be the only thing that doesn’t make me nauseous,” you sighed, letting out a small giggle before leaning in to kiss his cheek. Yoongi smiled and continued feeding you.

“Baby, why don’t you just quit? I make enough for both of us—”

“Yoongi, I need this. I need my own thing. We’ve talked about this,” you cut him off, dropping your head back onto the pillow.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, rubbing your cheek gently. “I just want to take care of you. I hate seeing you get sick because of work.”

“This won’t happen again, trust me,” you reassured him, frowning. You knew why he disapproved—your boss barely cared about the employees—but quitting wasn’t an option for you. You needed something that was yours. “I’ll—I’ll start buying my lunches instead. Or maybe just bring regular sandwiches,” you suggested, hoping to ease his worry. “Then you’ll be malnourished,” he scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “Y/N, is there some way we can compromise on this?” He set the now-empty bowl of broth aside, looking at you expectantly.

You shrugged. “I don’t think so.” the both of you paused. “What if I start bringing you lunch on your breaks?” he offered, picking up the bowl of banana pudding.

You perked up, nodding with a smile. “That works. I’m cool with that.” Yoongi continued feeding you with a smile of his own.

Yoongi adored you—no, he loved you—but those words alone didn’t seem enough to capture it. As mentioned before, he would go to war for you. He once stood in line for hours just to get you a limited-edition comic, refusing to send his staff or use his connections to get it faster. He wanted to be the one to do it for you.

Your parents loved him too, which meant everything to you. They treated him like their own son, always making plans with him even when you weren’t around. You were Yoongi’s girl, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you—whether it was cradling you when you were sick, cooking for you, or cleaning up your puke without a second thought.

Sometimes, you felt guilty for letting him take care of you so much. But deep down, you both knew you’d do the same for him in a heartbeat—if only he ever gave you the chance.

Yoongi rarely got sick. He took incredible care of himself, knowing he couldn’t afford to be down for long. His work was relentless, his schedule unforgiving, and every break he had, he preferred to spend with you. You were always his number one priority.

That night, you fell asleep in his arms, head resting against his chest, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He played with your hair gently, his fingers running through the strands as he rubbed slow circles on your back, whispering sweet nothings.

You slept through the night and well into the next afternoon. And in true Yoongi fashion, he spent the morning tidying up the apartment and picking up your favorite snacks, wanting everything to be perfect for when you woke up.

Thanks to him, you were back on your feet in no time, ready to return to work by Monday. You just hoped your boss wouldn’t give you hell and would finally fix the damn fridge—especially since you weren’t the only one who had gotten food poisoning from it.

Despite how much Yoongi hated your job, he made sure you were feeling completely better before letting you go back. He didn’t understand why you loved it so much, but he didn’t have to. He loved you—and that was enough for him to support anything that made you happy.

As you got ready for work Monday morning, Yoongi watched you carefully, his sharp eyes scanning for any lingering signs of weakness. When you finally turned to him with a reassuring smile, he sighed in defeat, knowing he couldn’t keep you home forever—no matter how much he wanted to.

“Text me if you feel even a little off, okay?” he said, tugging your jacket into place before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I will,” you promised, squeezing his hands. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Yoongi scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “Always.”

And as you stepped out the door, you felt a warmth settle deep in your chest. Because no matter how exhausting the world outside could be, no matter how frustrating your job got, you knew one thing for certain—at the end of the day, you’d always come home to Yoongi. To his quiet devotion, his gentle hands, and his unwavering love. And really, that was all you’d ever need.

A/N: Again hope this was okay. feel free to request again ofc requests are always open and I turned anons back on so ask box is open for anything ALSO! if you guys wanna be tagged when I post fics feel free to fill out the taglist form below :)))

➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Taglist Form

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months ago

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Tim Through the Years - The Proposal

Series Masterlist (part 10)

Summary: Tim finds the perfect way to propose. 0.9k+ words

Tim has been trying to wrack his brain on how to propose. He found the ring because of Angela and now he doesn’t know how to ask the woman he loves to marry him. Because of the incident when he got the ring, everyone has an opinion on how he should propose, and it’s giving him quite the headache. Lucy has been talking non-stop since she found out and expressed all of the ideas she had. So here he is, hiding in the interrogation room, trying to think of the perfect way to ask. Tim’s phone starts to ring and he answers without looking to see who is calling.

“What?” Tim asks gruffly.

“Hey baby, is this a bad time?”

Tim freezes; it was you calling him and not Lucy as he thought. “No, not at all, what can I do for you?”

“We’ve been having issues at school of someone stealing other people’s lunches. Today they stole my whole lunch instead of a couple of things. Everything is just gone; would it be possible to bring me some lunch? I really don’t want to eat cafeteria food.”

“Of course baby, I’ll grab some food from your favorite place”, Tim replies softly. He can tell you’ve been having a rough day just by the sound of your voice.

“Thank you so much! I really appreciate it, I love you! See you soon.”

“I love you too.”

When your phone call ends, he sees he has a few texts he missed from you earlier. They were pictures of different drawings your students did and they all centered around you and him together. Tim knows that you love your students and they mean the world to you. You always boast about how much your students grow and how proud you are of them. That’s when Tim has the best idea ever.

You slump in your seat after your phone call with Tim. The kids were in the gym before they were going to head to lunch. There has been a lunch thief in the break room and even if you leave your lunch in your classroom, some of it gets stolen. You’ve never had your whole lunch stolen - matter of fact, no one has, so it looks like the thief has stepped up their game. You have your suspicions of who stole your lunch: your coworker Dennis has been causing all sorts of problems. He cheated on his wife with a student's mom, and now he blames his ex-wife for why his kids don’t want to see him. A rumor you were told was that he was a massive alcoholic who took out all his stress on his family, and he had a gambling problem. You want to make a super spicy meal for him to eat so he will stop eating your lunches since Tim puts a ton of effort into making sure you eat a balanced meal every day.

You check the time and see that it is time to pick up your class before lunch so they can grab anything they need. When you walk into your classroom with your students, you see Tim sitting at your desk with your lunch. The class all squeals and runs up to Tim, asking him all sorts of questions. Your class loves it when Tim visits and thinks he’s a superhero.

“Hey guys, I’m just here to have lunch with your favorite teacher.” Tim has a smile on his face while he talks to your students.

That’s when your class turns to you and declares they want to use their marbles to have lunch with the both of you. You use marbles as a reward system to encourage good behavior, and they can choose what they want within reason.

“How about instead of me taking your marbles, I’ll give you a free pass because you have been so well-behaved today.”

The class cheers and goes to get their lunch stuff, so you send a classroom aide to go with some students who need a hot lunch. Tim hands you your stuff and when the aide returns with your students, you tell her you are going to run to the bathroom and be right back. When you return to your classroom, all your students are suspiciously quiet. Lunch goes smoothly, with you and Tim talking about your guys' day and the students talking amongst their friends and asking questions here and there. Once lunch ends, the students say goodbye to Tim and you kiss Tim on the cheek before telling him you’ll see him at dinner tonight.

It is getting close to the end of the day when the fire alarm goes off, which is weird because there was no drill planned for today. You calmly walk your students outside and do a head count of your students. After a few minutes, police and fire arrive, and all the kids talk about how cool they thought the trucks were. That’s when you heard your name called from one of the police vehicles' microphones.

“Y/N Winchester.”

Everyone grows quiet, and all turn to stare at you. Your students run toward the vehicle, and you run behind them to try and stop them. You freeze because your students are standing behind Tim, who is on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” all your students shout together with massive smiles on their faces.

“Yes!”

#tim through the years #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #winchester!reader #fluentmoviequoter

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nctstar · 1 year ago

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Can I get a smut of Johnny suh using his size and strength kink on a petite female Y/N? Thank you~

heyy! i'm so sorry this is absurdly late :(( but hope you still like it! <3

small

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

other members: none

word count: 2.4k

genre: romance, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! as per the request the reader is smaller than Johnny but I refrained from describing body parts or her specific size or anything like that, she is just short. if you're sensitive to this kind of talk though maybe don't read <3 mild profanity, lots of kissing, johnny carries reader, manhandling, descriptions of johnny's torso and body throughout, dirty talk about the size of his ding dong schlong, mild degradation (use of slut), ripping clothes bc those muscles do more than lift weights <3, clitoral stimulation/fingering, reader is pretty slutty and dumb during sex (aren't we all), missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), condom use, talking after sex (post nut clarity fr)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic.

a/n: i have been in such a writer's slump particularly with smut! like i think i need some time off to write some good fics and some good smut, so i'm sorry anon and to all my lovely readers if this is shit :(

“Now why would he ever say that?” You peeked at your friend pacing around your small room through your hair. Scissors in one hand, your (new) bangs in the other, you winced. “Wait, girl, I made a mistake I think.”

She sighed as you let the strands flutter across your forehead, uneasiness settling in your stomach. “Didn’t you follow what he said?” Brad Mondo’s curtain bangs tutorial continued in the background as you turned your head expectantly from side to side. Your friend held your head in place with open palms, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s actually kinda cute. Makes you look…well…”

“Don’t say small.” She snorted, bringing a hand to her face to unsuccessfully cover her mouth. “I don’t care, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

You pushed yourself off the stool, rolling your eyes as you started undressing. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Your belt clinked as your jeans fell to the carpet, and you started bringing your shirt over your heard. “I’m sure it was his way of complimenting me.” Despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop the annoyance that cemented your words into place. “I guess.”

“Girl, you need to tell him that it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, and it’s not weird to call some girl you’ve been on two dates with small.”

The doorbell cut through the air, making you both jump. “Shit. It’s like he heard or something.”

“Shit. Wait, just let him in and get him to wait downstairs. Okay?” Sudden panic was settling into your body, making your hands shake. Your friend got the message and hurried downstairs, zipping her skirt up in record time while hobbling downstairs. “Hope I don’t smell like chicken. I hate having shifts on Fridays.”

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you pulled the skirt over the curves of your thighs and butt, watching the way it held onto your body. Stuffing the ends of the top into the skirt, you walked over to pick out a pair of shoes.

“I’m heading out! Johnny’s waiting down here!” Your friend’s voice made your body do the kind of useless flurry that it does whenever you know you’re running out of time, and you drag out the highest heels you own. Small, my ass.

“Hey!” As usual, he softened his frame when he saw you, placing his hands in his pockets and smiling so big so you would forget to feel intimidated by his 6-foot stature, or rock-hard physique. His eyes were like small moons, bursting on his face whenever he smiled. “Hey, nice bangs.” You instinctively went to fiddle with them, silently cursing yourself for messing them up. “Thanks.” Your smile was a little forced, but you were giddy to see him, your body rocking back and forth without your permission, ankles rubbing against each other.

∞

“The pasta was so good,” you couldn’t stop raving, your hips knocking into Johnny as he walked you home, arms linked. “Like seriously, Johnny. So good.”

He laughed, the sound leaving him effortlessly. “I’m so glad you liked it. I remember the pasta here being amazing, but I was worried you would think I’m cheap or not taking you seriously. The place being run down and all.” You shook your head, your bangs shuffling from side to side as you did. “No, of course not. I would rather eat something good on the street than a tiny portion of something small and pretentious at an upscale place.”

He hummed, moonlight hitting his body, softening some angles and sharpening others, hair glowing golden brown as he walked. Your heels clacked against the linoleum of your front porch as you wondered whether your friend was home, but before you could reach for the front door, your knees buckled. You let out a small gasp as you felt Johnny’s arms around your body, pinching into your skin almost uncomfortably. “Oh shit! I’m okay, babe.” You both froze at the sudden nickname, his arms loosening around you as you straightened up. You shakily continued. “U-uhm, sorry, I mean-“

“I think your shoes broke.”

Yeah, no shit, you wanted to bite back. But you held your tongue, frustration seeping through your pores as you held onto the rail, Johnny hovering protectively over you as you took the right heel off, now newly broken in two pieces. “Oh my god. These were so expensive! Ugh!”

“It’s okay. Maybe I can buy you another pair. Babe.” He said the last word almost sarcastically, and you glared at him. “Johnny.”

“I’m serious. I’m sorry those broke so easily. I’ll bring a new pair next time?”

“Johnny, wait.”

“You like me, right?” His face crumpled just a tiny bit. Not exaggerated like in the movies or anything, so subtle you would never notice from afar, or if you weren’t close. You warmed at the thought of knowing him so closely, so well, enough to know that something was not right in the lines of his eyebrows.

You gulped, not knowing how to respond.

“I feel like you kinda hate me.” He crinkled his nose when he said hate, almost sarcastically, but his tone jabbed you straight in the chest. You shook your head. No, of course not, you wanted to say. I like you. I like you so much. But I am small to you. I wonder if you think of me as small. Do YOU like me?

“I just, I don’t like being small.” He frowned, and so did you, the words sounding stupid as soon as they filled the small space between your bodies. “I mean, you called me small the other day. And I know you probably, well, definitely, meant it as a cute thing. Like physically. Like a term of endearment, you know? But, I don’t wanna be seen as small, like more than physically. You know what I mean?” You cringed internally at your words, watching him stare blankly back at you.

“Right.”

“I’m so sorry. I sound like such a jerk. I don’t mean to be hung up over one little word you said.” You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of your lipstick on your tongue. “It’s just what made me feel a little weird. But, I do like you, Johnny.” Your heart raced as you looked up at him. Your body moved without permission for the umpteenth time, and your arms melted around his hips, fingers splaying across the small of his back. Your mind screamed at you, but your body ignored it, burning up from within.

Tentatively, he brought one hand to your chin, skin warm but rough on yours. “I don’t think low of you. I never have. I just think you’re so fucking gorgeous. So perfect the way you are.” The butterflies in your stomach were now dancing, free, leaping over hills and grassy plains. “Sorry for the poor choice of words.”

You smiled, some of the tension leaving you as you let your bodies merge seamlessly, like lanes on an open road, like the sun as it meets the horizon. You kicked off your other shoe, standing on your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. He tentatively glazed his hands over your sides, making you shiver and moan into his mouth. You brought your fingers to the nape of his neck, savouring the taste. “Mmm, Johnn-“

You yelped when he gripped your thigh, guiding it to press against his hips. “Jump up for me, baby.” You giggled, nodding as you straddled him, his torso gently rebounding back with your weight. As you met his lips once more, dragging your forearms across the top of his shoulders, you heard your front door open and close, the door to the downstairs bedroom fling wide open. As your back hit the bed, your hair splayed out onto the fresh sheets, knees bent, lipstick smeared.

“Uh huh.” All the shame left your body as you drew circles on his body and face with your eyes, letting his thick frame tower over you. “Is this okay?” He breathed into your collarbone, and when you nodded fervently, you felt his lips suck and nip at your neck. Gasping, you gripped onto his neck, letting your ankles hook around the back of his jean-clad legs. “Y-yes. Yes please. Don’t tease, I want y-you so much.”

“Yeah?” He played with the buttons of your top, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait…just rip it off, please. I need you. Right now. Please, just use me. I know you can.” He drew an eyebrow upwards, and you almost felt a slight twinge of embarrassment until you heard the top rip, cold air exposing your lace bra, tits bulging as you arched your chest off the bed. “What a slut. Is this what you wanted all along?” He laughed as you wriggled under him, mouth latching onto the tops of your boobs. He released you only to throw your arms up, pinning your wrists down to the bed to watch your reaction. When you bit your lip in response, bringing your core closer to his, he laughed darkly. “Freak.”

“Yes, just for you, fuck, please.”

“Bet you’re just soaked under this tight little skirt. Want me to rip this off too?” You nodded before he could even finish his sentence, and the sound of your fabric ripping filled the air. “Mmm, just as I suspected.” As he dragged your panties down your thighs, you felt your wetness pool onto the sheets under you. “Please, please, hold me down and fuck me.” You whispered into his ear, letting your plump lips graze against his skin as you massaged the nape of his neck with your fingers. You whimpered when his jean-clad bulge bumped against your clit, the burn in your core growing with every passing second.

He kissed you deeply, pulling away at an agonising pace. “Tell me why, baby.” You whined, trying to gather some friction between your legs with no avail. His arms pinned yours to either side of your head, his legs like heavy weights against yours. “Please, I just, I want your cock i-inside me, w-want it to split me open…” He shook his head. “What makes you think I would do that to you? I’m too big for you, honey.”

You whined. “N-no, please. I don’t care, just, push it in me…” He laughed, kissing you. “Please, I want to feel so full…” He shushed you, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. “Mmm, yes, yes please…” You were just babbling nonsense, the anticipation too intense to bear. His cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, precum spilling out the edges of the tip. You heard him rip open a condom packet, dragging it on his length at lightning speed. He ran his cockhead through the folds of your pussy, making you whimper. “So wet.” He breathed, and you gasped as his tip entered you at an agonisingly slow place. “J-Johnny.” Your brain fought your body, wanting him to continue but feeling apprehensive at the impending stretch. “You’re so big. Fuck.” You snuck a hand down towards your clit, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, leaning over to kiss your chin. “Let me.” As he pressed one finger onto your core, you gasped, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. “O-oh, oh my…”

“You like that?” He started speeding up, your gasps and moans like drugs to his system. When he pulled away, he started pushing his length in, and you let out a deep breath, as if you had been holding it in the entire time. “Fuck.” You drawled, feeling him in every corner of your insides. “Fuck, Johnny. You’re, you’re so big, and s-strong.”

Johnny laughed, and you wondered for a second whether you had ruined the mood. “My cock making you lose your filter, babe?” You blushed, but the constant bump and stretch on your clit had your vision go foggy, your head spinning deliriously. You used your forearms to push away, breathing deeply as if his cock had suffocated you from the inside out. Johnny wrapped his arms around your hips, bringing you flush against his pelvis in one swift movement. “Uh uh, where do you think you’re going?” His snarkiness and the fulness in your lower stomach made your core squeeze excessively. “Ah, shit! Fuck, I think I’m gon-“ You felt it before you could finish your sentence, your climax stealing the words out of your mouth, making your heart thump incessantly against your ribcage.

Johnny cooed at your, his forearms now caging you by your head, peppering light kisses on your face. “You alright, sweet girl?” You nodded, gasping. “Please, please move.” He chuckled, groaning as he pulled back to thrust into you, making you throw your head back and scream. “Fuck, oh my god.” Your body shook with the force of his steady thrusts, his legs pinning your body down to the bed. “Good girl, that’s it.” He groaned, getting sloppier as he reached his climax. “You’re so good for me. So eager for me to pin you down and fuck you. Because I’m so big and strong, right?” You reached for Johnny’s neck, the embarrassment at your previous comments leaving you as you felt your core tighten, coil ready to snap. “Fuck, you just gripped me so tight, fuck. Nasty girl.” You moaned as you came, feeling him release inside the condom with a throaty moan.

Both of you heaving, gasping for air, you pulled Johnny close to your body, kissing his collarbone, his neck, his face. “I do like you, a lot.” Your breath tickled his skin as you spoke, and he stroked your hair gently with one hand, using the other to pull away from you to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for calling you small. I admit, it’s a little weird.”

“Apology accepted. I think we’ve both called each other things we’re never gonna say again.”

“No, hon, you should always call me big and strong Johnny-“

“Johnny, please. Never mention that again. It was a moment of weakness!” You whined, shielding your face as he laughed, slipping off you to lie next to you on the bed. “Kinda sexy though.” You slapped his arm playfully, laughing as slipped down his forearm to take his hand in yours.

“I’ll think of something better for next time, promise.”

#kpop #nct #nct fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct imagine #kpop imagine #nct 127 #nct x reader #johnny suh #johnny smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #kpop smut

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ephie-om · 25 days ago

Text

Kitchen Adventures

Inspired by this post by @zephyrchama. I'm so sorry for this.

“Solomon’s been acting suspicious.”

“I hate to break it to ya, but that’s just the way he is.”

You frown at Mammon. “I know that. He’s acting more suspicious than usual.”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t question ‘im. You probably ain’t gonna like the answer.”

He hunches back over, strong hands dwarfing the tiny pliers he’s using to fix your necklace. The room falls into a comfortable silence for a few moments, until your conversation finally catches up with Mammon’s brain. “You think he’s plannin’ something?” he asks, a worried crease forming in his brow.

It’s your turn to shrug. “Maybe. Like you said, there’s no way of knowing what he’s up to.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I said you might not like findin’ out. There’s plenty of ways to find out what he’s up to if you’re his-” Mammon sits up straight, clasps his hands together, and puts on a high voice, “adorable apprentice.”

“He does NOT sound like that.”

“Sure he doesn’t. Anyways, I’m sure he’d tell you if ya asked him. Or at least give ya a hint.”

Without ceremony, Mammon dumps the silver chain into your hands, barely giving you a chance to catch it. “Are you in a hurry to get away from me?” you tease.

“If you’re tryna mess with whatever Solomon’s got goin’ on, I’m gonna put some distance in between us,” he chuckles. “Good luck.”

You push open the door of Purgatory Hall with a creak. You had knocked when you got here, but judging by the muffled explosions coming from deeper within the house, there wasn’t much chance anybody would be here to let you in. Peeking around the corner into the kitchen, you see none of the hall’s residents, bringing another frown to your face.

The counters are messy with flour, an unknown substance splotched on the cabinets. Against your better judgment, you poke at it with a finger. It’s sticky, and, from what you can sense, vaguely magical. Yep. Solomon’s definitely been in here. You turn your attention to the sink, piled with dishes that smell like… well, like death. Sulfur and brimstone. The pits of the Devildom. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but you didn’t think so.

A creak from the staircase draws your attention, and you finally see Solomon making his way downstairs. “Hey, MC,” he smiles faintly. “Looking for someone?”

“Yeah, I was trying to find you, but there weren’t any signs of life,” you joke.

Solomon pales. “Signs of life?”

“Uh… yeah. Like you, Simeon or Luke?”

“Oh! Of course,” his usual cocky smile is back, but not without a hint of something else under it.

You squint at him. “Solomon?”

“Yes, my darling apprentice?”

“What did you do?”

“What did I- nothing! I haven’t done anything. Not unless you count being the wisest sorcerer alive, of course.” A bead of sweat trickles down the side of his head, and he pretends to fix his hair.

“Solomon.”

“Why don’t we go up to my room for a bit? I can show you what I’ve been working on lately.”

“Solomon.”

His shoulders slump in defeat. “You can’t tell anyone, alright?”

You nod, still keeping a safe distance from him, and he circles around you. You back up a few steps, not quite trusting him to remember your fragile human bones. He rolls up one sleeve and- “EW, SOLOMON!”- plunges his hand into the sink. He feels around for a moment, face scrunching up in concentration, and finally pulls out his prize.

In his still-dripping hand sits a soggy brown blob about the size of a fist. It looks like unleavened dough, speckled with bits of herbs. A clump of flour bobs to the top slowly, then bursts, soaking back into the dough. “You were hiding this from me the entire time?”

Solomon holds up a finger. “Just wait.”

The blob shifts, and despite the stench, your curiosity wins out and you step closer. Two lumps form at its base, lifting it up, and slowly growing long enough to support the rest of its body. Two smaller lumps grew from its midsection, and the body began to separate into one part below and one at the top. The bit at the top caves in to form two small dents, just where eyes would be. It would look almost cartoonish if you were five feet away, but right now…

“Solomon, that looks fucking horrific.”

A high pitched whine fills your ears, emanating from somewhere in the blob. Solomon curls his other hand protectively around the blob-thing, and you try not to think about the puddle of sink water forming on the floor below it. “He can hear you,” he hisses, pulling it closer to his chest. Thankfully, the noise stops as he shields it from your view.

“I don’t know what level of sentience it’s achieved,” he whispers, looking cowed. “I don’t want to make a wrong move, so I’m trying to give it as much respect as I can.”

“He?!” you whisper-yell back. “Why are you treating it like a person?”

“You want to respect the demonic version of the Pillsbury doughboy? How did he even get here?”

Solomon gives you a pained look as he slowly removes his other hand from the thing. “It’s called a homunculus, for one thing. As for his creation, I was in the kitchen.”

“I gathered.”

“And I wanted to enhance the biscuits I was making, so I used magic, of course. I guess the way I worded the spell might have been interpreted as literally giving something life…” he trails off in thought.

“Weren’t you just talking about how you’re the wisest sorcerer alive?”

“One last question.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why the hell is he living in the sink?"

Solomon hmphs in your direction. “Everyone makes mistakes; that’s how we learn,” he says sagely.

“Oh, he likes it in there.”

“He what now?”

“I think it’s because of the humidity. I tried taking him up to my room so I could keep an eye on him and he went dormant again.”

“Dormant? Like when he’s curled up like that?” Solomon nods, and the two of you lapse into silence, both staring down at his unholy biscuit creation.

“Do you want to name him?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Well, we have to refer to him somehow. Who better than my lovely apprentice to choose a name?”

You stare at the blob. Little bits of dried leaves poke out from it, and its empty eye sockets stare ominously back at you. The doughy skin has started to shrink as it slowly dries, causing it to fold and crease where the limbs meet the body. You try to like it, you really do, but the more you look at it, the uglier it gets. You hope that your reflexes will be fast enough to throw it against the wall if it starts making that noise again.

“What did you say it was called?”

“A homunculus.”

You summon all of your incredible wordsmithing ability. It is your solemn duty to name this awful creation to save the world from the next Frankenstein’s monster. It has to be something affectionate, creative, easy to say…

“Homie. Lil’ Homie.”

“...homie? As in homunculus?”

You nod. “Exactly.” Lil Homie stares back at you, a tiny stem falling through his leg. “Can we please put him back in the sink now?”

Solomon obliges, nestling him in between several plates and scraping the dough from his hands as best he can. Lil Homie re-blobs, half-submerged in sink water. You and Solomon stare into the pile. Solomon leans over to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, I have plans to bake him if he gets too aggressive.”

#obey me #obey me swd #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me crack #om solomon #obey me solomon #i wrote this in the span of four hours #mars' writing possesses me once again #ephie writes

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n0rmal-cat · 11 days ago

Note

It's me and I need my fix, ✨

Requesting, burnt out reader randomly showing up at doll streamer's house, looking all tired and malnourished, wanting a break

Doll streamer x reader- dolls shouldn’t break themselves

[i need eternal sugar cookie😔 also sorry if you had to wait a little]

Reader stood there in silence for a moment contemplating whether or not they should even be here at all.

The note they clutched tightly in their fist crackled softly, a reminder of the choice before them, an address. they could just leave, no one would know. But they needed it…they needed it so bad.

With a deep breath, they pressed the doorbell and waited, and as the door slowly creaked open, they were met with the gaze of the very person they had come to see.

“Hello doll, I didn’t expect to…” They trailed off after taking a look at you.

“You look worn out, are your joints stuck?"

“Shut up. You promised I could return whenever I needed to! So just use your... freaky shrinking powers and let me live the life I want!” Readers yelled with a slight tremor.

They looked down at reader with sadness.

“If that’s what you wish,” they move to let reader into their home, “just sit down on the couch.”

Reader sank onto the couch, plushies sat on either side of them, bouncing their leg anxiously. They settled beside them, concern across their face. “Doll, you can't keep doing this, waiting until you’re at your breaking point to come to me.”

They wrapped an arm behind readers shoulder. "I'm not equipped to fix broken dolls Sweetheart."

“You want me to feel happy, don’t you? What difference does it make when I arrive? Just fix me already!” Reader pleaded. They gently cupped Reader's face with one hand, their touch warm and reassuring.

“Okay, just close your eyes for me,” they instructed softly.

Reader obeyed, closing their eyes. In that instant, reality began to slip away. One moment they felt like they existed in the world, and the next, nothing.

When they awakened, the soothing sound of humming filled their ears, drawing them back. “Open, dear,” they told reader. Following the instruction, Reader blinked open their eyes, a slice of orange in front of them, they took a bite.

“How long shall I keep you for this time, a week or two, or maybe until you learn how to take care of yourself properly?” They looked down at reader, a shadow cast on their face, a horror to some, not reader.

“I just wanted a break…” Reader whispered.

“Yes, and you will have one. But as much as I adore thinking of you as my precious doll, you’re still human, you have a life a break is different then breaking” they said, tenderly rubbing their thumb across Reader's face.

“I’m sorry,” Reader murmured.

Reader was raised to their face, “Don’t be sorry doll, just relax, perhaps I just need to teach you better.”

Their warm lips pressed against them.

“Would you like to go back to your doll house, or would you prefer to stay in my hands?”

“I wanna stay, please,” they're eyes already wet.

“Then stay you shall,” they started to hum again, cradling Reader as they sank deeper into their stae.

It took a while for them to finish their orange but they did, all while yan started up their stream. They watched as they talked with chat and played along.

Jealousy was an understatement, why couldn’t they have that?

“Where reader why hasn’t posted anything yet?” They read the chat.

“Well they must be tired, considering they stream days on and it’s only eventual, just be patient with them”

Reader looked down embarrassed, yan glancing down with a small smirk.

They went back to streaming with a laugh.

After the stream was over yan cracked their back “ahh wonderful” they slumped back “now you” they picked reader back up in their fist.

“You my dear need a bath” they smiled

“You didn’t have to say it like that you know, and you didn’t to say all that on stream”

They got up and started walking to the bathroom “oh but I did, how else would you listen”

They started to run the sink plugging it up before hand. “In” they said setting them down on the counter.

Reader rolled their eyes but dipped their foot in before sliding down the side.

Yan took a bottle of shampoo and put a tad on their finger, they started to rub in into reader hair at the same tike cupping their hand to wash it out.

The warmth of the water was calming, the gentleness of their hands a different story.

They cleaned the rest of reader body with the same gentleness.

Only once done wrapping reader in a hand towel “do you wish to sleep?”

“No, I slept to long in the day for that”

“Then I’ll put a movie on for you to watch” and that was it, everything reader wanted a simple day where they didn’t have to do anything just exist.

#gender neutral reader #gn reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere x willing reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #doll streamer yan #gn y/n #gender neutral y/n #sfw g/t #g/t writing #g/t fluff #g/t

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natashaslesbian · 1 year ago

Text

For You

Summary: You’ve been going through a rough patch with your moms for a while, after a big argument you finally tell them how you feel.

Word Count: 1.2k

Parings: (Wandanat x Daughter!Reader)

Warnings: none I believe :)

————

The walls shook as you slammed your bedroom door shut, the tell tale sign of another fight with your moms. Most teenagers have arguments with their parents, who usually have high expectations of them. But being the daughter of the Black Widow and the Scarlett Witch meant that your expectations were set much higher. Growing up your moms were your best friends, you spent every second with them, it was the three of you against the world. You had a magical childhood and all your school friends were jealous of your home life, however after your 13th birthday Natasha and Wanda decided that it was time for you to start training alongside Peter. It was nothing extreme, a few hours a week in the gym and some basic self defence. As Peter progressed you soon fell behind, not only disappointing your teammates but also your mothers.

You let out a sigh as you slumped down onto your bed, rolling over to face the wall incase of any unwelcome visitors. You replayed the row in your head, Natasha’s words loud and clear in your mind. “Why can’t you be more like Peter, he’s doing so well, he puts so much work into his training, he’s not lazy like you!” She had shouted across the room. That was your final straw. If only they knew the effort you held within you, they just didn’t care about it as it had nothing to do with being an avenger. As a kid you loved to draw and paint, and as you got older it became a favourite hobby. At first your moms would take your cute little drawings and put them around the compound to be admired but as they transitioned back into work and long missions they didn’t really have the time to appreciate your art anymore and very quickly they forgot about your favourite activity.

A knock at the door arrived as another tear slipped down your cheek. “Go away” you huffed. Shortly after came a gentle click of your door. “Who said you could come in?” You asked. Your mom didn’t say anything just yet, she simply walked over to your bed and took a seat next to you. “Y/n” Wanda said “I- I’m sorry. I hate when we fight kiddo” she said as she reached for your hair. “Mama started it” you replied as you pushed away her touch. “Baby mama didn’t mean what she said. We had words after you left and she knows she was wrong, she’s gone for a walk to calm down” your mom said as she shuffled closer. “And I know that I was wrong too” she said, causing you to look up at her. “I shouldn’t have shouted like I did” Wanda said with a hint of guilt in her eyes. Your mom never usually shouted at you, she was normally the calm one although still echoing everything your mama was saying.

Wanda’s vulnerability made you think for a moment. You had always hidden how you truly felt, putting on a tough act so you didn’t disappoint your moms even further. When Wanda had come to see you, you were prepared for round two with her. But the delicacy she had entered the room with caused something in you to shift. “Why am I not good enough for you and mama?” You cried out, the sight breaking Wanda’s heart. “Baby don’t say that!” Your mom cooed as she pulled you up into her embrace “you are good enough for us darling” she said. “You just want me to be like Peter” you sobbed “you’d rather him be your kid” you tried to push away from Wanda’s hold, but she tightened her grip around you, “we don’t think that y/n” she said. “I know I’m not as good as him at combat and weapons and stuff but I am good at other things! Why can’t you see that? I’m trying so hard to make you proud of me but nothing I ever do is good enough!” You cried.

Without realising, a second pair of arms had been wrapped around you, a steady hand was trailing through your hair. “Mama?” You mumbled as you looked up to see her green eyes. “I’m never gonna be good enough for you am I?” You said as you melted into her arms. Natasha had been stood outside your room for a few minuets listing to yours and Wanda’s conversation. She felt so guilty when she heard what you said and came running to your side, crying along with you. “Oh my little spider, look at me” Nat said as she cupped your cheeks, bringing your gaze towards her. “I promise you’re enough baby girl, I’m so sorry I made you feel like you weren’t. Your mom and I are so proud of you but we’ve been blinded by our own want for you to become an agent. But it’s not what you want is it?” She asked. You looked at her confused for a moment, finally starting to calm down again. “Your artwork” Natasha whispered.

“Mama you remembered?” You asked. “Of course we did sweetie” Natasha said “baby you’re a fantastic little artist we loved when you used to bring us all your drawings” Wanda said as she brushed your hair back from your face. “But I thought you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted me to focus on being an avenger” you cried “you never had any time for me” you mumbled as you laid in your moms arms. “You’re right baby girl and mama and I are so sorry” Wanda said as she kissed your forehead. “Y/n being an agent and an anger is all your mom and I have ever known” Natasha said “we’ve not put being mothers first and we know that now. We thought we were putting you first by pushing you into training but we weren’t and we are so sorry” she finished. You sat up so both your moms could see you, you took a deep breath as you prepared to tell them the truth “mom, mama” you whispered “I don’t wanna be an avenger” you cried out “I’m sorry” your moms both scooped you up immediately, both now crying with you.

“We know that now sweetie” Wanda calmly said “you don’t have to be sorry” she said. “I don’t wanna disappoint you” you mumbled as you wiped your nose “dekta you could never disappoint us” Natasha said “this is your life and you’re old enough now to decide how you want to live it, all we want is for you to be happy” your mama said. It was like a breath of fresh air had hit your bedroom, everything you had wanted to say was finally out in the open. “I think I know what I wanna do” you said looking up at your moms “what is it darling?” Wanda asked “after I finish school, I wanna go to college, to study art. Is that ok?” You sheepishly asked. “Oh y/n of course it is” Natasha said “it might be expensive though” you frowned “well that’s what uncle Tony is for” Your mama giggled “and besides we’ve got some money put away from you, it’s plenty enough to get you where you need to be” Wanda said “really?” You asked, trying hard to hide your excitement. “Really baby” Natasha said “whatever you need, we’ll sort, we’re your moms and that’s our job” Wanda said as she ran her hand under your chin. “I love you mom” you said to Wanda “I love you mama” you said to Natasha.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

#marvel #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #natasha x daughter!reader #wanda x y/n #wandanat #wanda x natasha #wanda x reader

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 4 months ago

Text

Beneath the Armor

Pairings: König x Reader

Warnings: Mild language, slow-burnish romance, mentions of self-doubt, fluff, coworkers to lovers

Author's Note: This one’s for the hopeless romantics who love a good coworkers-to-lovers dynamic. König deserves softness, and so do you. I’m getting on the König hype train-

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The barracks were always cold, but tonight, the chill seemed harsher. You had wrapped yourself in a thick blanket, legs tucked beneath you as you stared blankly at the wall. Today had been another one of *those* days. Your mistakes during training replayed in your mind on a loop, a cruel reminder that maybe you weren’t cut out for this life.

You weren’t like the others—effortlessly strong, composed, and confident. While they thrived under pressure, you sometimes struggled to keep up, constantly second-guessing your abilities.

A knock broke through your thoughts, sharp and deliberate. Your heart skipped a beat. There was only one person who knocked like that.

“Are you awake?” König’s low voice called through the door, thick with his Austrian accent.

You hesitated, glancing at the mess of your room and yourself. After a beat, you sighed. “Yeah, come in.”

The door creaked open, and there he was, taking up nearly the entire frame with his massive build. He wasn’t wearing his hood, revealing his tousled blond hair and flushed cheeks from the cold. His piercing blue eyes softened when they met yours, the concern in his expression making your heart ache.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He held a small tray in his hands, which he placed on the desk without waiting for an invitation. “So, I brought you something.”

You blinked at the gesture. König wasn’t someone you’d call a social butterfly, and yet he always seemed to notice when you needed help.

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

He crouched down in front of you, his broad frame making the small room feel even smaller. His hand reached out, hesitating for a moment before settling gently on your knee. “Are you okay? You’ve been… quiet today.”

The softness in his voice made your chest tighten. König wasn’t known for being overly talkative, but when it came to you, he always seemed to find the words.

“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a weak smile.

He didn’t buy it. “You don’t look fine.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I just… feel like I’m not good enough. I messed up during training, and I could feel everyone watching me. Judging me. It’s like I don’t belong here.”

König’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

You shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “Sometimes, yeah.”

His hand squeezed your knee gently, drawing your attention back to him. “You are one of the strongest people I know,” he said firmly. “And I don’t mean just physically. You have more heart than anyone else on this team. That’s why you *do* belong here.”

His words caught you off guard, leaving you speechless. You’d always admired König from afar—his skill, his strength, and the way he carried himself with quiet confidence. But this was the first time you’d seen him so open, so vulnerable.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, his voice softer now. “Just… don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone has bad days.”

The warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter, and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear how fast it was beating.

“I didn’t know you noticed stuff like that,” you said quietly, a hint of teasing in your tone to mask your nervousness.

König’s cheeks turned pink, and he averted his gaze briefly. “I notice a lot of things,” he admitted, almost shyly. “Especially about you.”

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?”

He looked back at you, his expression unreadable. “I mean… I notice how hard you work. How you never give up, even when things are difficult. And how you always make time to help others, even when you don’t have to.”

You stared at him, stunned by his honesty. “König…”

He shifted, suddenly looking a little nervous. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… wanted you to know.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. It’s just… no one’s ever said those things to me before.”

König’s brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Then they’re blind. Because you’re… incredible.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you did something you hadn’t planned.

You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his cheek in a quick, shy kiss. When you pulled back, König was staring at you with wide eyes, his cheeks a deep shade of red.

“I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Before you could finish, König’s large hand cupped the side of your face, his touch gentle but firm. “Don’t apologize,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then he kissed you.

It was soft, tentative, as if he was afraid of breaking you. His other hand rested on your knee, steadying himself as he leaned in. You melted into him, your hands gripping his jacket as you returned the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” König admitted, his voice low and rough.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “Me too.”

He chuckled softly, resting his forehead against yours. “Then maybe… we can stop pretending we don’t like each other?”

You laughed, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

König smiled, a rare and beautiful sight, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting!-Midnight💜

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 months ago

Text

When Life Gives You Lemons...

Pairing: Eventual Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

Warnings: minor angst, mostly fluff

Summary: After a parent-teacher conference goes wrong, your boss tells you to make nice with the biggest donor the school has ever seen. You don’t expect him to play nice, and you definitely don’t expect to give him a chance when he finally asks you out.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: tony stark/iron man (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Every month, the principal chooses one teacher to teach the sex-ed class and this time, it’s you. Not that you don’t mind, you love teaching kids about their bodies. It’s nothing like how a sex-ed class would be in high school, but it’s appropriate for middle schoolers. The last class of the day is let out, and you slump down in your seat tiredly. You don’t care what other people say, this shit is hard. Being in a classroom with a bunch of kids sucks the energy out of you but you love it. You wouldn’t trade this job for anything else.

Teaching is your passion.

You stay with the same group of kids all year round since they don’t change classes like junior high and high school, so you get to form personal connections with each other kids and watch them grow into exceptional human beings. There are a few every year that get under your skin and who you’d rather beat over the head with a stick, but you suck it up and teach them as best as possible.

There is a certain student, Morgan, with whom you are a bit concerned. You love having the kids get creative and have arts and crafts time regardless of how old they are, and her artwork is… unique. Where some art is bright and colorful, hers is dark and black. Others are pictures of families and beaches and animals whereas hers are broken dolls and blood.

It’s why you’ve called her father to come down to the school for a brief conversation. You called her mother but she’s not in the state right now. You get up from your chair and start cleaning the desk free of condoms you used on a bunch of bananas. There is a knock on the door and a handsome man walks into your classroom.

He’s not Bucky handsome but he definitely isn’t ugly. He has short hair that curls in the front, a goatee paired with a thin mustache, and is wearing an expensive-looking suit. He’s not the sort of man you go for but you can see yourself spending a night or two with.

“Oh, Mr. Stark, thank you for coming in.”

“Please, call me Tony. Sorry, I’m late. I just flew in from London.”

“It’s no problem. I’m glad you were able to come in. I wanted to talk to you about Morgan. I was hoping to have Mrs. Stark here.”

“She’s not Mrs. Stark. We’re not together anymore. It’s fine, I can handle it.”

You nod in understanding as you take out the art pieces your students did before you had to teach sex ed.

“I think it’s very important that kids are able to express their creative side, so I have what’s called ‘Dream Sesh’ where they’re able to draw, paint, or create whatever it is they want.” You hold up a nice picture of a dolphin and the beach. “This is a nice picture at the beach.” You hold up another one. “This is a nice rainbow with gold at the end of it.” Another picture. “I’d like to think this is a family of four with a pet.” Finally, you hold up Morgan’s art. It’s a mess of dark grey and black with doll heads she must have ripped off her Barbies and kept in her backpack. “I’m just a little concerned with what Morgan has created.”

Tony barely looks at her artwork. “Yeah, Morgan will be opting out of ‘Dream Sesh’ from now on. I want her to focus more on her studies.”

“Oh, did you talk to her about this?”

“I don’t have to. I want her to know geometry before going to high school.”

“Sir, I follow the curriculum. She’s doing very well in school.”

“Apparently not if she’s creating a mess of doll heads. Keep up the good work,” he says sarcastically.

“Tony, I talk to Morgan every single day. Do you?” You might be out of line for saying this but you’re not going to let him get away with not putting the needs of his kid before his own. “Hiring a tutor is not the same thing as spending time with her.”

“I’m her father, not her friend. I know what she needs and it sure as hell ain’t this.”

He turns on his heels and walks out of your room, done with this conversation. You roll your eyes and finish cleaning up your classroom. Afterward, you go to your principal because he can’t get away with this. You know what’s best for these kids, and he can’t come in here like he owns the place.

“Yes, he can,” Tracy, the principal says after you get done explaining what happened. “He is the biggest donor for this school in the city.”

“So, just because we take his money, we have to do exactly what he says? You’re telling me to throw out my integrity?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you to do. We need his money. What you’re going to do is go down to his office and say you were wrong, that you’ll never let the kids do anything creative again. Make sure he doesn’t pull his donation.”

There’s no arguing with Tracy. With a sigh, you leave her office and head home for the day. The boys are at home devouring the pie you made last night, and you walk over to them with a look of defeat.

“Hey, how was work?” Steve asks.

“Fine. I was picked to teach sex ed to a bunch of twelve-year-olds.”

“Is that why you look like that?”

You must look defeated like you’re lost, and also a little annoyed. “No. One of my students has been making… unique art and I had to call her father in to talk about it. He bashed my ‘Dream Sesh’ idea so I went to the principal. He’s the biggest donor for the school and is super rich, so now I have to go apologize to him.”

“Do you know how much groveling I have to do on a daily basis? It’s what fills my gas tank up, so I can’t really complain,” Steve says.

“That’s the problem. It’s rich people who suck, and they make the poor people dangle and beg for things that come easily for them,” Bucky says. “Fuck him. Don’t apologize.”

“He might pull his donation, and I can’t do that to the kids.”

“Blame it on your period,” Sam suggests.

“Excuse me?”

“Since no one else is suggesting this, how about a simple apology?”

You look between your roommates, your mind already made up. “I’m gonna go with Bucky’s idea. He’s right. Fuck him. I shouldn’t have to apologize for letting my kids be creative in their artwork.”

“Here’s what you’re going to do.” Sam and Steve roll their eyes but let Bucky continue. “You’re going to march into his office and tell him, ‘You can’t tell me what to do. Your money doesn’t own me.’”

“That is a bad idea,” Steve says.

“No, I like Bucky’s idea.”

You turn to leave but Bucky stops you. “Who’s the guy?”

“Tony Stark.” All three men’s eyes go wide and they all start stuttering. “What is happening?”

“Forget everything I said. Apologize.”

“What?”

“You’re talking about the Tony Stark? That guy is a billionaire. He’s destroyed people for less. Go with Steve’s idea.”

“No.” You pause. “I’m not going to conform to his rules. I’m going to go over there right now and give him a piece of my mind.”

You leave before you can talk yourself out of it and leave in your piece of shit car. Words are already swirling in your head as you try to think of what you’re going to say. What will come off as the most sincere while you’re telling him to get fucked? Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just keep it civilized and apologize. No! You’re not wrong for sticking up for your students! You can do this.

You pull up to a red light and pause in the front. You’re going over your speech in your mind when your car stalls. In a panic, you try starting it again only for it to make this ungodly terrible sound.

“This is not happening right now,” you gasp.

The light turns green and it doesn’t take long for the cars behind you to start honking. You groan and get out to inspect the damage. Everyone is pissed you’re holding them up like you’re doing it on purpose. You’re not going to be able to fix this so you have to get this out of the road before you cause an accident. You stick your key into the ignition and turn it once so it clicks, and you put the car in neutral.

With all of your strength, you push the car across an empty lane to the curb. As soon as your car is cleared of the lane, cars honk as they pass by you. This could not get any worse. How can you piss on the fact that Tony is one of the richest people in this country with a broken car?

“Y/N?” You look up and see Tony Stark crossing the road once it’s clear to do so. “What are you doing?”

“Milking a cow.” You roll your eyes. “What does it look like I’m doing? My car broke down. How did you know I was here?”

“I work here.” You look up and see you’re parked in front of Stark Industries. “What’s wrong with the car?”

“I don’t know. It stalled out on me at a red light. I haven’t had a chance to look under the hood.”

Tony reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out his phone. “I know someone who can fix it. Don’t worry.”

You’re not sure why but this doesn’t settle well with you. Never have you had a man want to do something this nice to you, even after you accused him of not spending enough time with his daughter. There has to be an angle he’s playing at.

“I can take care of myself.” Tony raises an eyebrow as if he’s challenging you. “Listen, I never came from money so when something broke, I either pretended it didn’t or fixed it with duct tape. I’ll be fine.”

Tony looks at your car and nods. “Yeah, the tow truck is on its way.”

“That’s generous, Tony, but I need a car.”

“Take mine.” He holds out his keys to his Audi R8 that’s parked on the other side of the street near a meter. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Wha..? I can’t take your car.”

“Sure you can. I’ve got a dozen of them. I’m having a cookout this weekend, so you can drop it off then. You should come.” You truly don’t know what to say to this. He checks his watch and makes sure you take his car keys. “I gotta go. I’ll see you on Saturday at four.”

He winks at you before walking away, and you open your mouth in shock. Did that really just happen? The only reason you’re leaving your car and taking Tony’s is because you can’t physically drive your car. You’re about halfway home when you realize you never did what you came to his office to do.

Fuck me. You park Tony’s precious car inside the car garage instead of the street because you don’t want some junkie or hooligan to mess his car up. You don’t really live in the best part of town, but it’s not the worst. Still, you don’t want to take the chance. It’s not every day a sports car comes through this side of town.

You walk inside and pause when you see Natasha wearing nothing but one of Steve’s old shirts. She’s much smaller than him so the shirt easily goes to her knees. She freezes as if you just caught her doing something terrible.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Steve and I slept together,” she blurts.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t like keeping things from you. Then we did it again ten more times.”

“Wow, um, I don’t know what to say. Good for you! Steve is pretty great. He’ll be good for you.”

Natasha nods but then she sees the look of distress on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You turn and head inside your room, hoping she’ll leave it at that. Knowing Natasha, she won’t. She follows you inside your room and closes the door behind you. “Natasha…”

“Something happened. What is it?”

You give her the 411 on Tony Stark and what happened today outside his office. “He just gave me his car keys. What the fuck? I had this whole speech planned in my head, and he goes and does something like this. Ugh, I’m so pissed at him.” You start making a mock impression of him. “Look at me, I’m Tony Stark and I just give away my cars because I have twelve of them. Oh, look at me, I have all this money to spend on whatever I want.” You’re about to continue when you notice Natasha smiling. “Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.” You roll your eyes. “You know what he’s doing, right? He’s trying to take back the power. Now, I have to go to this cookout and grovel because he has my car and I have his.”

“You want to know what I think?”

You see the look in her eyes. She had the same look when she told you how much Bucky was into you. “Not really.”

“What if he likes you?”

“No, I hate him,” you scoff.

“He is single and cute. Have you seen the comments on his business page? Every woman wants him.”

“He’s not the type of guy I go for.”

“Why not?”

“He’s the type of guy who has a closet just for his watches and socks. He’s the type of guy who has a towel warmer outside of his shower that I bet has ten different knobs I’m sure no one but him knows how to work. You know me. I’m into the guys who are afraid of success and still have roommates.”

Natasha gets up and she walks closer to you. “Can I say something you’re not gonna like?” You roll your eyes but you don’t answer her. “I think Tony intimidates you. You wouldn’t have to take care of him because he would take care of you.”

“Uh, no.” Natasha gives you a bitch face. “You’re wrong, Natasha.” She raises an eyebrow. “Stop looking at me like that. You were wrong about Bucky and you’re wrong about Tony.”

Her words stick inside your mind all week leading up to the cookout. Bucky was the only one available so he agreed to go with you. You’re not sure how you feel about bringing the man you’re crushing on to a man who’s crushing on you, but you try not to think too much about it. His Audi is nice but it’s not something you’re used to driving. After parking on the street, you and Bucky walk toward his mansion which is already crowded with people.

This mansion is all sorts of all over the top. It overlooks the ocean which gives off a great view but you’re thinking about storms and how one wrong move will make the entire house plummet into the ocean. You hate to admit it, but you’re kind of in awe at the look of it. It has a roundabout in the driveway so that people don’t have to back up to get out. It’s one continuous circle.

“We’re here for one thing and one thing only.” You look at Bucky who has a frown on his face. “What's wrong?”

“Too fancy. Something doesn’t sit right with me. I never trust someone with this much money.”

You roll your eyes. “Come on.”

Bucky takes one step into his kitchen and he’s lost in his own mind. Bucky loves to cook. He taught himself while working at the bar. He figured he could make more money if he served something other than alcohol. Steve and Sam know how to make signature dishes but they leave the cooking to Bucky.

You split off from him and walk into the backyard where most of the guests are. Tony is standing among friends with a glass of dark alcohol in his hand. You do have to admit, he is kind of handsome. Much older than you, but handsome. There is soft music playing, nothing like what the parties you go to play. Okay, maybe there is some truth to what Natasha was saying. You take a deep breath and walk over to Tony.

He sees you coming and excuses himself from his group.

“Y/N, you made it,” he smiles. “Oh, the mechanic called. Your car is ready. Easy fix, I hear.”

“Okay… Good.” You hand over his keys. “I parked your car on the road. Tony, I came here for two things. First of all, thank you for helping me. Second of all, I know you donate a lot of money to the school, but--”

“Oh, God, you think I’m a snob,” he cuts you off.

“What? No. I have nothing against people who…” You look around. “...live in enormous mansions.”

“Y/N, I’m forty-five. I make a lot of money, and I like spending it.”

You look around the place and suddenly feel so out of place. You don’t belong here. You’re thirty years old and live with roommates in an apartment that’s falling apart. How did you ever think you could try and be one of them?

“I gotta go.”

“Wait, Y/N.”

He grabs your arm gently but you whip around to face him. “No, Tony. I came here because the principal told me to apologize but I’m not sorry for what I said. Morgan is twelve and she is creative and deserves to participate in ‘Dream Sesh’. I don’t care if you pull your donation because I am not going to grovel--”

“Wait, what? Do you think I’d pull my donation? I’d never do that.”

“Tony!” You two look at a woman waving him over. “I want you to meet my brother!”

“I gotta go. Nice party.”

You turn and leave before Tony has a chance to say anything else. Bucky is in the living room admiring his TV system when you grab his hand and partially drag him out of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re leaving.”

“Why? What happened? Did he do something?”

“No, Bucky.” You stop outside the front door with a sigh. “We don’t belong here, Bucky. He has twelve cars and a koi pond in his backyard, and we have a stick we use to get the faucet to work again. We’re not the same.”

You try to leave when Bucky stops you.

He can’t believe he’s going to say this because he’s so into you, but he saw the way Tony looked at you earlier. Between him and Tony, Tony is the better man for you. He can take care of you in ways Bucky can’t, and you deserve everything in the world. Maybe he should focus on trying to love a woman who is more in his bracket.

“Look, I saw the way he was looking at you. He likes you, Y/N. You shouldn’t be running from him when he can give you everything you deserve. Go back inside and talk to him.”

Hearing this from the man you’re crushing on is a bit overwhelming. Bucky is who you need but if he’s pushing you to Tony, the last thing you’re going to do is tell him that.

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“Yeah. Go.”

You turn and head back inside to see if being with Tony is something you can do. Bucky sighs and kicks round some rocks once you’re gone. He’s slapping himself over this even though he knows it’s what’s best for you. Tony is talking with a group of people when you step back into the backyard. As if he knows you’re here, he looks at you and smiles. He parts from his group and you walk toward him with a shy smile.

“I’m sorry for earlier. Look, Tony, you scare me because you have everything figured out and you’re secure and you don’t have broken pipes and roommates.”

“I don’t have everything figured out. I can’t even talk to my own kid. Will you go to dinner with me Friday night?”

You think back to Bucky and his words. He wants you to do this. If he wanted to go to dinner with you, he’d ask. Instead, he pushed you into another man’s arms.

“Yes,” you smile.

“Great. I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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twost3ps · 5 months ago

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So I’ve been pretty absent for a bit and would like to take a formal announcement that I am on a hiatus or ateast be dipping in and out very quickly

I just… I just can’t right now. I can’t draw or be happy or anything. I’ve drawn like maybe a couple of times and I hate everything. Absolutely and fully I just can’t.

I keep on telling myself self that next week will be my week or I’ll finally finish what I’ve started but I can’t. All I can do is mope on my bed after a long day and I can’t even enjoy my moots content in full because I can’t will myself to look. And all I do is feel bad, sick, and annoyed. So I’ve just been off socials for a bit. And I feel incredibly guilty for not being able to look or interact with my moots posts or respond to something. Tbh this particularly makes me feel incredibly guilty.

With Abel being announced I thought I would be able to come back but I still can’t do what I want. My fingers shake with my pen and I get so mad with every drawing I do. I can’t even enjoy the content i like or be bothered to look for anything revolving around it. I occasionally look at my notifs but I don’t really anymore. I physically hate it. All of it. I’m chalking it up to seasonal depression and the overall stress I’ve been having for over winter- holidays and family life. I get into a slump this time of the year most of the time but right now it’s the worst it’s been.

I just feel I’ve been letting so many people down all at once and i just can’t bring myself to function

So I’m formally announcing some time off. I’m sorry to my moots that I told I was going to give presets for… I’m sorry it’s going to take way longer than I thought it was going to be. Might even bleed to February and I’m so so sorry. I hope this hiatus doesn’t turn permanent though, because this happened before with one of my old socials and I couldn’t commit any longer and left. If it does happen my accounts will stay up though. I know I really shouldn’t be but I feel so incredibly guilty, like I’ve been neglecting this account, my moots and followers too. Idk qwq

I’m so sorry for dumping here but I feels good to say it and I want you guys to know why I’m not gonna be here for a bit longer. It’s not forever but for a while

So bye for now!! Love you guys and thank you 💖 i hope you all had a happy holidays and a happy new year!!

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eddiexmunsonlover · 10 months ago

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One Step Away From You (Chapter 13)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!GF!Reader

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Chapter Summary: You and Eddie finally give in to your carnal desires. WC: 4k Warnings: MDNI 18+ Fluff and Smut, Smut and Fluff. Unprotected piv, grinding, marking, creampie. First time I've written smut in a long time, hope it's not terrible! Series taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers @amandahobblepot @littlexdeaths

Friday, February 28th, 1986

A smoky haze hangs in Eddie’s room long after the cherry on your last shared joint died out. It’s your typical Friday night together after Hellfire, watching a movie between breaks to taste one another's lips. With the movie over, you’ve moved from the loveseat to Eddie’s bed, laying at opposite ends with guitars in lap, your leg atop his. Fingers seamlessly matching each other’s rhythm, soft smiles thrown with red, half-lidded eyes.

If you hadn’t been inseparable before, the two of you were practically attached at the hip over the last 2 weeks since that night at Lover’s Lake, and you swear it’s the happiest you’ve been in your life. All the time spent together, every time you feel his touch or his lips on yours, you can’t describe the feeling as anything else but high, floating in the clouds. Your friends are just as happy to see you finally together, unsure of how much more of the games they could bear witness to.

You play the last shared chord of the song, the weed making the two of you all smirks and giggles as you spare a glance to each other.

“I love playing with you, babe.” Eddie begins, eyes following as you lean to take a sip of your drink from the bedside table. “We’re just… so in sync”

Your hand reaches for his, squeezing it in agreement before stealing a quick kiss from his lips.

“What do you want to play next?” You ask, settling back into your spot at the end of the bed.

Eddie readjusts his slumped position, resting his back fully against the wall.

“You know, you still haven’t played me any of your songs since you’ve been back, Miss singer-songwriter.”

“Yeah…” you draw out as shyness creeps in, tinting your cheeks in blush while you avoid his gaze, fingers toying with the tuner on your strings.

“Sooooo” his foot nudges your leg resting on top of it. “Why don’t you play me something, pretty please?”

Turning your gaze back, you’re met with his pretty doe eyes. With a deep sigh, you give in.

“Okay, okay. But you have to promise not to judge, I never said I was good.”

You mimic his earlier movements, setting your posture straight before adjusting your strings.

“Oh, please. I already know you’re gonna blow me away.”

You can’t help but to cut your eyes at him playfully, an unwavering boyish smile etched on his face.

You mull over the handful of songs you’ve written over the last few years, some you’re more confident in than others. Only one song sticks out the most, your most recent, your most vulnerable.

“This is um, a song I’ve been writing over the last couple months.”

He watches you in anticipation, arms crossed over the guitar in his lap. With one last look at him and his excitement from finally getting to hear your work, you bring your eyes down to the guitar in your lap. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself step into the uncomfortable vulnerability.

You let your eyelids fall closed, tongue darting out to wet your lips before your fingers begin strumming the baseline, head softly bobbing along. Humming the missing main guitar line you’ve written with it.

Part of you is grateful it doesn’t give you the time to hesitate before you start singing.

“Whenever I’m alone with you,

You make me feel like I am home again.

Whenever I’m alone with you,

You make me feel like I am whole again.”

Glimpses of memories flood your mind, from that day in 1976 when your eyes first met to the events of the last few weeks, and every emotion that comes with them.

“Whenever I’m alone with you,

You make me feel like I am young again.

Whenever I’m alone with you,

You make me feel like I am fun again.”

Despite already being shut, your eyes squeeze closed harder as you’re overcome with the emotion of it all, your love for Eddie. Raising goosebumps all along your skin.

Nights spent alone in your room since your return to Hawkins, guitar in lap as Eddie would linger in your mind. Your repressed love and the way he makes you feel materializing through the lyrics, falling from your lips with ease.

“However far away,

I will always love you.

However long I stay,

I will always love you.

Whatever words I say,

I will always love you.

I will always love you.”

The feeling is indescribable, thinking back to the moments you wrote these lyrics when you thought your love was unrequited, to singing your love song to Eddie now as his girlfriend.

You hum along to the guitar solo, teeth digging into your bottom lip to stifle the wetness surrounding your eyes.

A heaviness hangs in your chest and throat with the vulnerability, you can feel your cheeks burning. Refusing to meet it but feeling his eyes on you while you sing your literal heart out for him.

“However far away,

I will always love you.

However long I stay,

I will always love you.

Whatever words I say,

I will always love you.

I will always love you.”

With a final pluck of the last chord, the sound fades out until your ears are only met with silence. Taking a shaky deep breath, you chance opening your vision to see Eddie’s reaction.

You’re met with glossy eyes, mouth slightly agape, evidence of a single tear painted streak on his cheek.

“You-” wetting his lips, he gulps down the lump in his throat. “Did you write that for me?” he manages to ask in a hoarse whisper.

You give a small nod, chest quickly rising and falling with the anxiety and anticipation of the moment.

In a second, his guitar is off and placed on the floor before he’s crawling to you. Hand sliding to the back of your neck, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Feeling the dampness of his cheek pressed against yours.

Your lips part only for a second to remove your own guitar before raising yourself to your knees, hands splaying against the cotton material covering his back.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” he mumbles against your lips, stealing another kiss before parting from them again. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before…”

A soft smile plays on your lips, thumb stroking his cheekbone.

“You deserve it. You don’t know how special you are to me, Eds.”

His lips crash into yours again as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. The action knocks you both off balance, pushing Eddie back and pulling you with him. Your lips never part in the fall, only becoming deeper and more passionate as you land on his pillows.

The warmth of his calloused hand meets your lower back, sliding under your shirt as your tongues eagerly greet each other. Noses brushing while your tongues engage in a dance you’ve practiced many times over the last 2 weeks. And yet, the intense feelings that come with it do not fade with each occasion your lips have met. Soft moans rising from your throats with each twirl of his tongue around yours. Your fingers finding their new favorite place, nestled in his curls as your thigh lays across his hips, the temptation to fully straddle him and grind your core against his becoming increasingly harder to fight. You’re unable to stop your hips from pressing into his side, seeking any sort of friction between your legs.

You’re hoping this is it, tonight will be the night you finally take things to the next step. Not left in sexual frustration after your attentions are redirected to another activity, just when you’re brought to the brink of pushing things further. Relieving yourself the second you return to your own bed.

Having an active sexdrive is no news to you, well versed in pleasuring yourself, more often than not to thoughts of Eddie before bed every night. But since confessing your feelings to each other and spending your free afternoons and evenings with your tongues down each other's throats, your libido has only been sent into overdrive.

You have to admit the constant unspoken denial to your urges have opened the door for thoughts of doubt to creep in. You know the way Eddie feels about you, and you’d like to believe he wants you just as much. You yourself were wary of the pacing of things with Eddie in the beginning, until you realized your relationship is not like anyone else's, nor should it follow the same path or timeline designated by others either. After spending years holding back your feelings, it only makes sense things would move a little fast after they’ve finally been put into the open and reciprocated. You’d figured Eddie would feel the same.

Now it’s been 2 weeks and with multiple passed up opportunities to take things further, you’re only left in confusion. You know he’s been with others before you in far shorter of a time. You only hope you’re overthinking it all and those concerns will be a thing of the past after tonight.

Your hope is cut short when his lips part from yours. Soft pants pouring from his plump lips.

“Do you uh- you wanna watch another movie?”

Your brows raise in disbelief at him as you attempt to catch your own breath. Your frustration boiling over, your head falls onto his chest with a groan.

“I take that as a no?” he lets out a lighthearted chuckle that fades when your head tilts back up, disappointment and uncertainty displayed in your eyes and features.

“Eddie… do you not want to have sex with me?” you ask softly, feebly fighting the hints of insecurity from weaving into your voice. His eyes slightly widen while his brows furrow.

“W-What?”

A frustrated sigh falls from your mouth, propping yourself up with a hand on his chest.

“Every time we do this, every time things get heated and start to go in that direction… you just stop, divert to something else, distract me… I-I don’t know what to think.”

“Baby. Believe me, I want to. You don’t know how hard it’s been to hold myself back, it’s been downright torturous but I… I don’t want to make you feel rushed.” He takes a deep breath to collect himself and his words. “I just think about all you’ve been through, the way others have made you feel and I don’t ever want you to feel like that again, to feel used. I just wanted it to be clear that you…us…it’s more than sex for me, and I guess I thought I needed to take things slow for that.”

“Eddie… how could I ever think that about you? That you could ever be anything like him? I understand where you’re coming from but…don’t you think we’ve already taken it slow enough? Everything? All these years?”

You take a moment to read each other's eyes, his fingertips ghosting along the skin of your arm.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You can’t help but laugh at the question.

“Eddie, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He wastes no more than a second to return his lips to yours, rolling over till you’re on your back and his waist is nestled between your thighs. They quickly wrap around him, holding his body against you as your mouths pick up where you left off, only now with no restraint.

It soon becomes strikingly clear how much Eddie had been holding himself back when his hips grind into yours, a hand slowly gliding up your leg. You can feel the hard outline of his cock through his jeans, pulling a whiny moan from your lips when it grinds against your aching clit.

Your hands find the hem of his shirt, quickly yanking it off for your hands to explore the warm bare skin on his back. His mouth leaves a slow trail kisses from your lips to along your jawline. Fingers in your hair tightening to gently pull your head back, granting him full access for his mouth to explore and attack your neck. Your moans no longer muffled by his lips, they grow louder as he sucks, sending chills down your spine and straight to your pussy, desperately gripping around nothing as your thighs tighten around his waist. An airy, but smug chuckle fills your ears.

“Did I find one of your sensitive spots, sweetheart?”

You can only whimper in acknowledgement and it only makes him harder. Gently kissing and licking the quickly bruising spot on your neck as his free hand toys with your shirt.

“Let’s take this off. I wanna see you, all of you.”

He lifts himself up just enough to help remove your tank top, biting his lip watching you fumble with the hooks on your bra. You look up at him with your gorgeous eyes, removing your bra and throwing it across the room.

His eyes nearly bulge out of his head, breath hitching at not just the sight of your breasts, but the shiny metal accessorizing them.

“Holy shit” he breathes out as his hands begin sliding up the bare skin of your hips to your waist. “When did you do this?”

“My birthday.” you answer, watching his reaction in amusement.

You lean into his touch as his hands cup your breasts, sighing in pleasure as he kneads and massages them.

“So fucking sexy…” he mutters more so to himself than you before he begins to lean in, intent on letting his tongue play with your nipples.

“Wait, Eds.” your hand presses against his chest, halting his movements. “You can’t touch them, they’re not healed yet.”

“W-Well how much longer?”

“Probably another few month-”

“MONTHS?” His head falls back with a groan as he looks up to the ceiling, as if begging god for mercy. “Why must you tease me like this?”

You giggle at his dramatics, “I think you’ll survive.”

“Hmph, barely. I guess the wait will be worth it.”

He flashes you his signature smile, leaning in to give you another deep kiss before his mouth trails south. Wet, open mouth kisses along your skin between your breasts and down your plush stomach. Biting your lip as you watch him leave small pecks on each stretch mark he sees decorating your skin, inching closer to your core, fighting your thighs from trembling in anticipation.

As his fingers dig underneath the waistband of your tights, he glances up to you as if asking for permission. With an eager nod he pulls them down, carelessly throwing them off the bed with his eyes glued to your pussy. Mouth hanging open, his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing them back and out, making your lips spread for him.

“Fucckkkk. Your pussy’s so pretty, baby.” he mutters, laying himself down for his face to hover above your core, looking you over in admiration. A finger slowly drags from your clit down to your soaking hole. “And so fucking wet for me.”

Your face grows even more red from the exposed position, his praises, the sexual build up in your body begging for release. Needy moans bubble out of your throat when his thumb begins circling your clit.

“Eddie, please. I need you, baby. Need to feel you inside me.”

If you were in your right mind, you’d probably be embarrassed by your desperate pleas, but they only turn Eddie on more. Making him groan as his cock becomes painfully hard, throbbing from the confinement.

He leans back onto his heels, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and yanking down his jeans. Your thighs involuntarily close to provide some friction at the sight of his cock being released from his boxers. You’re mesmerized at the sight, nearly drooling as you admire his length and girth, the vein running along his shaft, the contrast of his metal rings against his pale skin as they glide up and down his length. Your thighs quickly spread back open for him as he crawls between your legs. He notices the way you’re staring at him, and though lust fills your eyes, he bites his lip in nervousness.

Eddie knows you’re not a virgin, but this is only your second time. His cock isn’t the biggest in the world, but it is bigger than average.

“I promise I’ll go slow, just tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

The gentleness of his voice, his promise, his touch as his hand holds your cheek only makes you want him more. With a nod, his lips are back on yours, slotting himself between your legs with the weight of his body lying on yours. Warm, bare skin pressed against each other, grinding his cock between your folds, collecting your slick along his shaft. Whimpering into his mouth with each nudge of his tip against your clit.

He can’t wait any longer, reaching down to guide his tip to your hole. Slowly teasing your entrance, sliding the tip of his cock in and out. Breathy moans against each other's lips.

When he feels you’re ready, he slides himself inch by inch into you. Warm, wet walls wrapping tight around him. The delicious burn of his girth stretching you out in ways you’ve never felt before, throwing your head back against the pillows as a gasping moan tumbles from your lips.

“Jesus H. Christ” a guttural moan bubbles from his throat, burying his face into your shoulder as he fully seats himself inside you.

He doesn’t dare move, letting you adjust to his size while trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly. Years of desire and tension threatening to be fully released far too soon. You feel even better than he imagined, much better.

With a deep breath, his hips begin to rock back and forth. With one hand holding himself up, the other cradles the back of your head as yours grip onto his back. Your slick coating his cock with each stroke, quickly easing the pain of his stretch to turn into pure pleasure. Your thighs wrapping around him, foreheads pressed together as you stare into each other's eyes. Mouths hanging open as moans fall free.

“Eddieee” a needy whimper when his tip brushes against your sweet spot.

“Do you need me to stop, sweetheart?” he asks breathlessly, halting his strokes.

“God no, please don’t stop” your heels press into his lower back, pushing his cock deep back into you. “You feel so good”

“Fuck, baby. So do you, gripping me so tight” He groans, pressing his lips against yours as he picks up his pace. The sounds of your wetness, skin slapping skin filling his bedroom, mixing in with your moans.

Your nails dig into his back as you’re filled with pleasure, with each stroke of his cock in and out of your pussy. His eyes roll to the back of his head, parting from your lips with a whimper.

“Fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can last. Feel too good, wanted this, wanted you for so long, baby” he rambles breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on trying not to bust so quickly when your sweet pussy keeps sucking him in, squeezing him so tight.

“I want it, Eds. I wanna make you cum.”

“Shit, sweetheart. Where do you want it?”

“Inside, fuck, I want you to cum in me.”

“Oh my god”

A hand slides underneath you, wrapping around your waist while the other remains cradling your head. He buries his face in your neck, searching for your sensitive spot. Hoping it’s enough to help you cum with him. The way your nails dig deeper in his back, the way you repeatedly call out his name with his mouth latching onto your neck tells him you’re close.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.” he mutters against your neck, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

It sends you over the edge with a squeal of pleasure, legs shaking, your walls squeezing him tight with a death grip.

He once thought your laugh was his favorite sound in the world. After tonight, it’s dropped down to second place.

The way your pussy pulses around his cock through your orgasm finally makes him falter, groaning your name as he pushes himself as deep as he can inside you, filling you with his cum.

Your chests heave against each other, bodies relaxing with your release. Panting to catch your breaths. The mix of your juices dripping down your ass and onto his bed sheets beneath you.

After a minute passes, lust no longer clouding his mind, Eddie raises his head from your neck to look at you.

“Did I really just..”

“I’m on birth control, remember?” You chuckle as his face immediately relaxes, head falling back to your neck.

“Oh thank god” he mumbles into your skin, arms wrapping tight around you as your fingers slip into his hair, gently rubbing against his scalp.

You rest there for a few minutes collecting yourselves, evening your breaths and heart rates.

His lips find yours again with slow kisses as he pulls his soft cock from inside you. Moving to lay next to you, pulling you to lay with your back against his chest.

He offers you your drink, quenching your dry throat from the countless moans he fucked out of you. A lit cigarette soon finds its way to your fingers and lips, wordlessly passed between the two of you.

Your head rests back against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting on your stomach.

As you lay in each other’s embrace in utter relaxation, all tension and worries fully released from your mind and body, a question of pure curiosity hangs in your mind.

“Eds, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.” he answers, blowing smoke from his lips.

“When did you know? That you felt more for me than just a friend?” you ask, turning your head to peer up at him. He smiles down at you before putting out the cigarette, letting his hand fall to rub up and down your arm.

“It’s uh, hard to pinpoint an exact moment.” he begins with a sigh. “Sometimes seems like I’ve had these feelings for as long as I can remember.

Maybe it was one of the first few times you snuck out of your trailer when your parents fought and came to Wayne’s, and I’d realized I was that person you wanted to go to to feel safe.

Or whenever something would happen, good or bad, you were always the first person I wanted to tell.

Or maybe it was one of the countless times I’d look at you and wish I could kiss you, hoping I’d always have you in my life.

Or when you left and I stopped hearing from you. The way my heart broke at the thought I’d never see or hear from you ever again.

Or every time I was with another girl… you were always just there in my mind, I’d see your face in theirs.

And when you came back, the way my heart both fluttered and sank to my ass at the sight of you…”

His eyes meet yours, hand moving from your arm to let his fingertips ghost along your jawline.

“I’ve realized I love you so many times, sweetheart. I just never imagined in all those moments… you were falling in love with me too.”

Emotions overwhelm you, a tear falling from your eye as your heart swells in your chest. His finger lands under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his soft lips, your body turning to fully face him, deepening the kiss.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Eds.”

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x plussize!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #bf!eddie munson #one step away from you #eddie munson plus size #bsf!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader

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yukidragon · 1 year ago

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May we have a story about Jack's clingy side and uses his puppy dog eyes to make MC to cuddle with him longer? (He uses the puppy dog eyes whenever he wants something and it works 100% of the time) Jack kind of reminds me of a giant puppy.

I love this idea! Jack definitely knows how to channel puppy energy to his advantage, and my MC Alice definitely falls for it every time.

In fact, I love this idea so much that it inspired me to turn it into a quick writing prompt. I also remembered that I owe everyone a nice little Jack x reader fic from the poll I made last year, so I wrote this writing exercise in 1st person gender neutral perspective.

So here it is, just a short but sweet first draft story about clingy Jack giving his sunshine some puppy dog eyes and pleading to get a bit more cuddle time. I don't think any real warnings apply, though it does get a little suggestive. Also, I think this might count as GrovelCore?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my writing, and consider leaving a comment please!💕

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

...

It was nice to have moments like this, just the two of us on the couch cuddled up together. The way Jack wrapped me up in his big, strong arms made me feel so safe, so content. Even though I was tucked comfortably in his lap, he practically surrounded me with his warmth. It was the perfect way to spend a day off from work.

The show on TV was entertaining, but it wasn’t enough to draw my attention away from Jack for long. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to it at all. Every time I looked up at him, I never failed to see those beautiful dark brown eyes of his gazing back at me. His mouth was shaped in a gentle curve of a smile, his expression almost dreamy as he admired me with so much love and adoration in his eyes that it sent my heart racing. I had to look away when the butterflies in my chest fluttered so hard they were ready to burst out of me.

Fuck, I was so down bad for this man, I was down atrocious.

A gloved finger brushed against my cheek, slowly tracing the contours of my face until reaching my chin. The sensation sent a delicious shiver down my spine, and my eyes returned to Jack as he gently guided my face back towards him.

“Looks like the show’s over,” Jack said. I blinked, caught off-guard, before my eyes darted to the screen to see the credits scrolling by. His honeyed voice drew me back before I could get distracted from his loving gaze for long. “What do you want to do now, sunshine?”

The first thought that popped into my head made my cheeks burn and brought back those damn butterflies. The second thought reminded me to check the time.

Ah damn it. Curse must-watch binge-worthy television. Why must I always fall for your siren song of “just one more episode”?

“Not run errands, that’s for sure, but it’s getting late,” I said with a heavy sigh, banishing the butterflies and steamy thoughts to whence they came. “Groceries aren’t going to buy themselves, and I’ve got a bunch of other stuff I should get out of the way while I’m out too.” I sighed again, shoulders slumping.

Being a responsible adult dealing with all the responsible adult bullshit sucked sometimes. A lot of the time. Actually probably most of the time considering how many hours in a day got eaten up by a cringy job and entitled customers.

I twisted away from Jack and tried to stand, but his large muscular arms kept me locked up tighter than iron bars. I turned back to him with a questioning look, only to see him pouting at me.

“I know it’s important to be responsible, sunshine, but don’t you think you’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately?” he asked. “We have plenty of food to last a few more days, and you’ve been working overtime for the past five nights in a row. You come home too exhausted to do anything but sleep, then you go right back to work. It’s not good for you.”

“I know,” I said with a helpless shrug. “But what can I do about it? Bills aren’t going to pay themselves either.”

Jack adjusted his hold on me, not enough that I could slip free, but I could feel his hands glide slowly along my back, sending a shiver up my spine. “I know, but it’s just been so long since we’ve had any cuddle time,” he said, his pout making its way into his voice now.

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the way his lower lip jutted out just a little further. “You see me every day,” I teased, trying to lighten up the mood. “Besides, we woke up cuddling this morning, didn’t we? You sleep with me every night.”

“You’ve been too tired to cuddle lately,” Jack said, whining a little. “Even this morning, you didn’t really wake up until halfway through breakfast. This is the first chance in days that I’ve had to really have you all to myself.” He dipped his head down, closer to mine, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the TV’s gentle glow made his dark eyes shine. “I missed you, sunshine.”

His big soulful eyes tugged at my heartstrings, and his gentle caress along my back made me want to melt into him. “I missed you too,” I admitted after a moment. We couldn’t exactly talk when other people were around, and work had been too busy for us to even sneak a kiss without the risk of getting caught in the act.

I was pretty sure Jack wouldn’t mind even if someone else could see him making out with me. In fact, I had a sneaking suspicion that he might even enjoy getting caught. Sometimes this man acted like he had no idea what it meant to feel shame.

Then again, Jack was always painted up like a clown 24/7. If he wasn’t embarrassed by the bright face paint or his silly jokes, then he probably didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Sometimes I wished that I could say the same. The idea of being seen making weird faces while holding onto the air left me feeling a level of cringe that not even the greeting at my job could match. It probably would be a kiss with tongue too knowing Jack.

The thought left me burning, both with mortification and the memory of the way his kisses made me feel.

Maybe it would be worth the embarrassment considering how good of a kisser Jack was.

As if reading my mind, Jack brushed his lips against mine, just a peck, but it was enough to snap my attention entirely to my boyfriend. “Then stay with me,” he said with a hint of desperation to his breathy voice. “Please?” He planted another kiss on my lips, just a little longer but still only a tantalizing taste of what he could offer me. “I need you.”

Jack finished off the last of my resistance by saying my name in that same pleading tone while looking at me with so much love and need in his beautiful dark brown eyes. His desperate voice and puppy dog eyes made me melt like cotton candy in water.

I gave in to him. I couldn’t help it. I was weak to him when he begged me like this, and I needed Jack just as badly as he needed me.

“Jack,” I sighed as I looped my arms around his neck and drew Jack in for another kiss. I could feel him smile against my lips, and he murmured my name again before his tongue slid into my mouth to get a taste of me.

Soon I was pinned against the couch, breathless and panting, with Jack looming above me. His arms were a cage that secured me there and ensured that I wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Not that I wanted to with the way his mouth moved along my neck, hot and wet. I couldn’t help but moan his name as he sucked on my skin, arching up into him.

Even before Jack started tugging at my shirt, I had a feeling that I wasn’t getting any errands done today, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Every touch, every kiss, and every murmur of my name along with sweet praise made the world around us fade away, until nothing else existed but the two of us and our love.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #My Writing #Sunny Day Jack x Reader #Yandere x reader #X Reader #Reader Insert

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chrysalis-thestateofchange · 1 month ago

Text

*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*─ | “Something to Eat” | ─ *•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*

Characters // Atlas (he/him), Wren (they/them)

The next morning.

Wren slides out of their sleeping bag in the back of the van with a grunt, the hair on one side of their head flattened against their face. They blink the sleep from their tired eyes as their gaze lands on a very awake new companion of theirs. “Did you sleep at all?”

His piercing gaze flicks over to them, and he gives them a quick nod, but it’s very apparent from the weary look in his eyes that he’s lying.

Wren stares at him for a long moment, tracking the lie immediately. “Mhm.” They push the sleeping bag towards the boy. “We need to get on the road again. We’ll stop for gas and food in the next town over.” Wren leaps up and crawls over the console between the two seats and plops down on the driver’s side. “Sleep while I drive. You’ll be useless if you’re tired.”

The boy quickly rolls up the sleeping bag for them and tucks it into the corner, following them to the front. “I’m fine.” He grunts.

With a huff, Wren rolls their eyes and starts the van. “You won’t be soon. If we’re lucky, they won’t come looking for you yet, or ever. But if they do, we’ll be sleeping a lot less,” they explain, pulling out of the parking garage. “So sleep.”

He is quiet at their words. Leaning against the window, the boy stares out at the surroundings with an unmistakably sad sigh. “I’m fine.” He reiterates.

With a hum and an exasperated wave of their hand, Wren turns onto the main road. “Whatever. I’m not slowing down for you when we’re being hunted like animals. And trust me, whether it’s your people or not, we will be.”

No response. He stares straight ahead, gaze level. His hands are clenched tightly where they rest on his thighs, and his posture is stiff. Despite seeming to trust Wren enough to follow them out of Eden, he still doesn’t seem to have relaxed the slightest bit from the night before.

Wren sighs and slumps into their seat as they speed down the freeway. “You’re not going to say anything?” They ask after a long moment of silence. “I got you out of there. You should at least tell me stuff about you so I know who I’m working with.”

The boy’s gaze flicks over to them but he still doesn’t move. “Why should I?” He asks in a monotone voice. “I have no reason to.”

Wren glances away from the road to narrow their eyes at him. “I saved your ass. I say that’s plenty reason. I’m going out on a limb to trust you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

His gaze shifts away again. “Eden said the same thing to me, did they not? They were a whole lot kinder to me, too. That’s no reason for me to trust you.” He says again in the same flat voice.

Wren clicks their tongue and shakes their head, fixing their eyes on the road again. “Fine. Don’t expect to know anything about me either,” they grunt between gritted teeth.

“Don’t care.” He says with a slight shrug, eyes dull, going back to watching out the window.

With a groan, Wren tips their head back, eyes leaving the road for longer than was considered safe. “Okay, whatever asshole,” they grumble with a snarl. “We’re driving for another two hours.”

“Okay.”

· · ──────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────── · ·

They have been stuck in this damned van for over an hour already and Wren is suffocating in the presence next to them. He hasn’t so much as uttered a single word since Wren’s last attempt to strike conversation. The silence becomes too much and Wren finally speaks again, saying, “You have any…hobbies?”

It’s silent for a bit, the boy just staring out the window, watching with his back turned to them as they pass through the city. “Why do you ask?”

Wren’s shoulders sag slightly as they let out a sigh. His questions make their brows stitch together. “I don’t know man, I’m just asking.”

“Do you?”

Wren admits defeat, nodding with a shrug. “Yeah man, I guess.” They glance over at him again, biting at the inside of their cheek. “I like to draw. And I like music.”

He hums, still staring straight ahead.

Wren adjusts their grip on the steering wheel as they wait for their companion’s reply. Nothing but stiff silence fills the air. They click their tongue and pry further, saying, “Were you allowed to listen to music in that place?”

The boy nods slowly, not taking his eyes off the road. “Yes.”

Wren leans forwards in their seat, pressing against the steering wheel. “What kind of music?”

“Whatever I like.”

“And what kind of music do you like?” Wren asks shortly.

“Am I annoying you?”

They shoot him a sideways glance, letting their body relax as they sigh. “No. You could talk a little more though. You’re so dry. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I like a variety of music.” His gaze is blank – unnerving – as he stares at them. “Is that a sufficient answer?”

Wren hums, rolling their eyes but accepting the answer. “All right,” they sigh, shrugging. “It’s good enough. I like K-pop.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

Wren’s head snaps towards him as he speaks. “Open the glove box. There’s CDs in there.”

The boy robotically does just as they say, opening the glovebox and carefully rummaging through the CDs.

“Pick one. Then put it in the slot.”

After a moment of hesitation, he selects a random CD and puts it into the disc player.

Wren presses play. “Just listen to it. If you don’t like one you can skip it.”

He nods and starts to listen.

Wren taps their hands against the steering wheel as the song is carried out. Their gaze shifts sideways with an expectant raise of their eyebrow. “So?”

“It’s different from what I’ve heard before,” he says, not sounding quite as terribly dull.

Wren hums. “What does what you usually listen to sound like?”

“I had a lot of old rock CDs at home.” He says. “I usually listen to stuff similar to that.”

Wren raises their eyebrows slightly at the boy’s first seemingly carelessly given response. The corner’s of their lips quirk up slightly. “Hey, that’s cool. Rock is cool.”

He nods in agreement. “It is.”

Wren feels lighter than only moments before. While the boy is still guarded and blank faced, at least he’s willing to speak now. A little anyway. “My dad’s a big fan of old rock. He’s got a ton of records and a big fancy record player. You ever own a record player?”

“Yes. I had one in my dorm.” Briefly, it seems like he wants to say more, but no more words reach Wren’s ears.

“That’s cool,” Wren says, fixing their eyes on him once more as they take the exit. “I’ve never had one myself. But I had a CD player at home. That’s why I've got all of those,” they say, nodding towards the glove box.

Silence.

Wren sighs. They turn down a bumpy road, grunting as the van jerks and grumbles against the asphalt. “Let's get something to eat. I’m hungry. What do you want to eat?”

The boy shrugs. “Whatever you prefer.” He says, glancing down the uneven road.

Wren glances over at him. “What, have you never had fast food before?” they ask with a raised brow.

WIth a blink, he slowly shakes his head no. From the look on his face Wren can tell he doesn’t even know what fast food is.

Wren stares at him for a long moment, silent. Then they sigh and rub a hand down their face. “Jeez.” They take another turn, the road smoothing out. “We’re going to McDonald’s.”

“Okay.”

Wren nods, satisfied, as they turn into a parking lot, shaking their head with a hum. “What food do you normally eat then?”

“The food provided at the cafeteria. It’s carefully selected to give us all our proper nutrients and vitamins.”

Wren scoffs and rolls their eyes. “That’s so boring. Do you even have a favorite food?” They ask as they put the van in park in front of the golden arches of heaven.

“Not particularly,” he says, staring up at the McDonald’s.

With a sigh, Wren thumps their forehead against the steering wheel. “That’s so sad dude. How do you not have a favorite food? Whatever, let’s go.” They turn the van off and climb out, gesturing for their new “friend” to follow. When he follows in suit, Wren leads him through the sliding doors and approaches the counter, jabbing a finger at the menu. “What do you want?”

“What kind of food do they serve?” he asks, looking around, lips parted, eyes sparkling in awe.

Wren deadpans and points at the menu again. “Read it. They’ve got burgers and nuggets and shakes and stuff. And chicken sandwiches. I like the spicy one.”

The boy narrows his eyes at the menu. “I’ll just have whatever you usually order.”

Wren sighs and marches up to the counter, placing their order and dropping a fist full of crumpled dollar bills in front of the cashier. “Let’s go sit,” they say, not waiting for the boy as they find a small table in the corner.

He follows, trailing after them like a lost dog, sitting down at the table across from them.

Slumping into the chair, Wren hums “It’ll be quick. That’s why they call it fast food.” They tip their head back and stretch their arms over their head. “Is there anything you wanna do before we’re being hunted down?”

“I don’t know.” He mumbles. He continues to look around at all the new people sitting around them, his eyes scanning basically everywhere except for Wren.

Wren raises a brow and sits up, leaning forward against the table. They stick out a finger at him and shrug. “You’re free now. You can do whatever. For a short period of time anyways. There’s never been something you’ve wanted to try?”

He shrugs. “Not really. My duty to Eden is the most important thing for me to focus on, everything else is just a distraction.” He is still in the habit of quoting the mantras Eden has forced into his head.

Wren frowns and narrows their eyes at his words. “Welp, that’s not the case anymore. You can actually do shit now.”

“I’ve always wanted to travel…” he murmurs, quickly glancing to Wren for approval, like he’s scared he might get punished for saying the wrong thing. It makes Wren slightly uneasy.

They quickly brush it off and chuckle, their lips splitting into a faint smile. “Traveling’s cool. We’ll be doing plenty of that now.”

His eyes dart down to Wren’s smile. “Okay.” He says, perking up slightly.

Wren doesn’t miss the way he seems slightly more intrigued by the matter. “I mean, it’s not like we’re going backpacking in Europe but we’ll get to see different places at least.”

The boy nods, running his fingertips along the edge of the table.

Wren eyes him for a moment longer before their order is called. “I’ll be right back.” They retrieve their food from the counter and return, dropping the tray on the table. They grab one wrapped burger and hold it out to the boy, pushing a carton of fries towards him. “This is a Big Mac.”

He takes it with a “thanks” and carefully unwraps it. He inspects his burger for a moment before taking a tentative bite.

Wren doesn’t wait for him to speak again, grabbing their own burger and ripping open the paper, sinking their teeth into the food with a groan. They chew away at their food, plucking fries from their own carton every now and then and cramming them into their mouth. “So?”

He chews silently for a moment before swallowing. “It’s… really good,” he admits.

Wren can’t help the smirk that breaks their features at his answer. “Hell yeah it is. You want another?”

The boy takes another big bite of his burger and nods. Wren takes a bite of their own burger, snorting before heading towards the counter again.

He continues to eat his burger, content washing over him, the last night's events slipping from his mind for a moment.

Wren places an order for another burger before returning to their place in front of the boy, busying themself with their own food once more. They finish their burger just as their second order is called and make their way over and grab it, delivering it to the boy. For a long while, they stare, studying him as they pluck at their fries. They want to ask more. They want to pry information out of them. But this is the first time since meeting him that he hasn’t seemed completely tense and on edge. Wren remains silent.

Finishing off the last of their fries Wren crumples up their trash, stuffing it in the bag their food came in. “We should get back on the road soon. You want to finish that here or take it with us?” they ask, nodding at the burger he’s clutching.

He swallows his huge bite of food and wipes his mouth. “I’ll eat it in the car,” he says, carefully wrapping his food up again.

Wren almost smiles at the sight, him wrapping his food almost as if it were something precious. They nod and stand, tossing their trash in the nearest bin and nodding towards the door. “Let’s go.”

After tossing all of their trash, he nods and follows them back out the door.

Wren climbs into the van with a sigh, feeling more comfortable with food in their stomach. “All right. We’ll drive for another hour or so and stay in the next city. It’s pretty busy so we shouldn’t have a hard time going unnoticed.”

He nods, buckling his seatbelt and getting comfortable in his seat once more.

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A big thanks to @oros-ash3s for helping me write this chapter ⋆˚࿔

─ O.W. .ᐟ

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