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theetherealbloom · 5 months ago

Text

NORMAL THING

Summary: It's a normal thing to fall in love with movie stars.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap(ish), Huge Crush, kind of Power Imbalance (cause you’re a fan but nothing absolutely weird), Hurt-to-Comfort, Infatuation, Fluff, ANGST, Dog, Older Sister, COVID-19, Pandemic Era, Cheesy, Awkward, Hallmark-ish Vibes, Whirlwind, Work,

Word Count: 3k

A/N: That mf voice note-turned-song has me sobbing and dying every time I listen to it. Then I was also listening to "Normal Thing" and was like, “ohhhh this song is for me… help.” I wrote this fic in a place of just… feeling sorry…? Like apologetic that Pedro had to go through that kind of feeling all alone for a while. Anyways, there's a few sentimental moments here inspired by poetry and things I've read and learned, hope you enjoy!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: "Normal Thing" by Gracie Abrams, "Pedro" by Omar Apollo

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

| Main Masterlist |

You had gone to visit your sister during your last summer break before graduating. Then, the second wave of COVID struck Europe, making it uncertain when you could return home. However, since all classes had shifted to online learning, the timing wasn't as critical.

Your older sister calls your name, snapping you out of the book you were absorbed in. "Hey, I’ll be out later getting groceries… do you mind taking Hershey for a walk after dinner?”

Her chocolate brown Labrador retriever, Hershey, a retired service dog, perks up at the mention of his name. You can't help but smile at his eager expression. “Yup, I can take him out later.”

She reminds you, “Don’t forget your mask!”

You playfully roll your eyes at her. “I won’t.”

Your sister thanks you and leaves for the store, leaving you alone with Hershey. You decide to take a short break from studying and take the dog for a walk around the neighborhood.

As you make your way down the quiet streets, Hershey happily sniffing at everything in sight, your thoughts drift to Pedro Pascal. Ever since watching him in The Mandalorian, you couldn't help but develop a bit of a crush on him. His charm and charisma on screen had captured your heart, making it hard for you to focus on anything else.

But it was just a normal thing, right? To have a celebrity crush? You reassure yourself as you continue walking.

You've always been drawn to movie stars and actors. Growing up, you had posters of your favorite celebrities plastered all over your bedroom walls. It was just harmless admiration, nothing more.

But with Pedro, it felt different. You found yourself constantly daydreaming about meeting him or even just catching a glimpse of him in person. You even shamefully admit that you've watched his interviews multiple times just to hear his voice.

It's ridiculous, really. You were fully aware that it was just a fantasy and that nothing would ever come out of it. And even if by some miracle you did meet him, what then? He would never be interested in someone like you - an ordinary college student from a small town.

You sigh and shake your head, trying to push away these silly thoughts as Hershey tugs at his leash to sniff at yet another tree.

But then something catches your eye - a poster for an upcoming film starring none other than Pedro Pascal himself. Your heart flutters at the sight before reality comes crashing down on you once again.

You shake your head and continue walking with Hershey, wondering when this infatuation will finally fade away.

Your older sister had always been supportive, albeit a bit concerned about your celebrity crush. "It's sweet, really," she would say with a soft smile, "but just don't lose yourself in the fantasy, okay?"

Your friends, on the other hand, found your crush hilarious. During your video calls, they would tease you mercilessly. "Come on, you'll never meet him!" one friend would laugh. "It's just a harmless crush, right?" another would add, their tone light but the message clear.

In the privacy of your room, you sometimes found yourself talking to the mirror, practicing speeches you would never give. "Hi, I'm a huge fan… and I just wanted to say..." you'd trail off, feeling foolish. You even practiced smiling and having conversations with yourself, hoping to perfect that effortless charm you admired so much in Pedro.

Yet, your self-awareness kept you grounded. You knew it was just a fantasy, a way to escape the stress of your real life. With a sigh, you would push those daydreams aside and focus on finishing your papers and remaining projects.

You wished one day to work in production, to be a part of the magic that created the worlds you loved to escape into. As you typed away on your laptop, you allowed yourself a small smile. Maybe one day, you would be behind the scenes of a film or a series. But for now, you had work to do, and dreams to turn into reality.

The sun sets late in Switzerland, casting a warm, golden glow over the tranquil residential area. You enjoy these walks, the peacefulness a stark contrast to the bustling city life you're used to.

Right after dinner, you take a stroll with Hershey, you notice a man sitting on a park bench, his shoulders slightly shaking.

Frowning, you glance down at Hershey, who looks up at you with curious eyes. Adjusting your mask, you make your way down the sidewalk, intending to walk past the stranger. But Hershey has other ideas, pulling you towards the bench with a wagging tail.

Instinctively, the man begins to pat Hershey, his touch gentle yet shaky. “Oh, Hershey, wait—” you start to say, but then you notice the tears streaming down the man's face.

You pause, feeling a pang of sympathy. “Do you mind if I sit down?” you ask, gesturing to the far end of the bench.

He looks up, eyes red and puffy, and nods. “It’s fine.”

You sit down, giving him space but staying close enough to offer comfort. You give him your name then look over to your adorably friend-shaped labrador, “And this is Hershey.”

“Pedro,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

There’s a moment of silence, broken only by the soft sounds of Hershey sniffing around. Then, gently, you ask, “So… what’s on your mind?”

Pedro hesitates, struggling to find the words. “I… I don’t even know where to start.”

“I know it might seem a bit strange, but sometimes it's easier to talk to someone you don't know. No judgment, just listening,” you say, offering a reassuring smile.

He chuckles softly, a small spark of warmth in his eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Besides,” you add with a playful grin, “I promise I’m a great listener. I even have a certificate in listening from my sister's dog.”

He laughs – a genuine, heartfelt laugh that seems to lift a weight off his shoulders. Your laugh follows, a sound so infectious and bright that it makes people around you feel lighter, happier.

“Your laugh,” he says, a hint of wonder in his voice. “It’s... special.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread throughout your face and chest. “Thanks. So, Pedro, what’s been going on? Are you visiting family or…?”

“Oh, no, no. I just… I finished a job.”

“That’s nice. What do you do if you don’t mind me asking?”

He looks a little uncomfortable admitting it but he settles, “I’m um… an actor.”

You smile, your eyes crinkling as you do, “Do you like it?”

“Like what?” He asks in confusion.

“Y’know, acting?”

He takes a deep breath and begins to talk, the words spilling out in a rush. He speaks of the pressures of fame, the loneliness that comes with it, and the crushing weight of expectations. You listen intently, offering empathy and understanding.

“You know…?” he asks, surprised. “You know who I am?”

You nod and shrug. “I… I figured it out after you mentioned some of your projects.”

“You didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t think I had to.”

Pedro looks confused for a minute, and you offer a simple smile. “I’m not famous or anything extraordinary like you. But I can only imagine how exhausting it must be, constantly looking over your shoulder. Not wanting to mess up or upset people must make you feel like you’re always on the edge, always holding your breath.”

He nods, his expression softening. “That’s exactly it.”

“I've done my fair share of pacing and reeling,” you say with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I even thought it looked cute at times. But I know there's more to life than just this feeling of uncertainty. Even though right now, it feels like there isn't any moment past this one.”

You sigh as your eyes get misty. “In the end, if any of us are going to make it, we simply have to believe. We have to believe that we aren’t alone, that people see us for who we are and what we can be. You have to visualize it; cling to whatever fills you with courage, because the world needs you here. It needs you.”

As the night wears on, you both share stories and laughter, the conversation flowing naturally. By the time you part ways, Pedro looks visibly lighter, as if a burden has been lifted from his shoulders.

Beauty no longer has an effect on Pedro. It takes more than physical appearance to impress him. Instead, it's the ability to intrigue his mind and provoke his thoughts that truly captivates him. That is what he considers someone as magic.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

“Anytime,” you reply. “Had a good time, but I guess I'll see ya. Take care, Pedro.”

Years later, when the world isn’t as plagued by the pandemic, you’re working in New York, living your own life but occasionally checking in on Pedro’s career through social media. He’s become a prominent figure, his face everywhere. Yet, you can’t forget the vulnerable man you met on that bench.

One night, you’re at a bar in the Bowery Hotel with friends. The atmosphere is lively, filled with laughter and chatter. As you share a joke, your laugh rings out, catching the attention of someone across the room.

Pedro looks up, his heart skipping a beat. That laugh – he knows that laugh. His eyes scan the room until they land on you, and for a moment, everything else fades away. He feels an uncanny sense of familiarity, a powerful pull towards you that he can’t quite place.

Your friends laugh at a joke you made, but your mind is already miles away. Tomorrow, you’re heading to Glendale, California, to work as a sound engineer on an upcoming project at DreamWorks Animation. The excitement and nerves flutter in your chest as you excuse yourself to start packing.

Pedro starts to make his way towards you, determined to find out if his instincts are right. Just as he’s halfway across the room, a fan stops him, asking for a picture. He smiles warmly, grateful for the support, and agrees.

“Thank you so much, Pedro! This means the world to me!” the fan gushes, snapping a quick selfie.

“No problem at all,” he replies, his gaze drifting back to where you were sitting. He quickly wraps up the conversation, eager to see you again. But when he looks back, you’re gone, as if you vanished into thin air.

Pedro’s heart sinks. He scans the room, hoping to catch another glimpse of you, but you’re nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, you’re outside, heading towards the subway station and waving goodbye to your friends. “I have to pack and get some sleep. My flight is early tomorrow morning,” you explain, your excitement barely contained.

Your friends hug you, wishing you luck on your new endeavor. As you descend down the stairs and board the subway train, your thoughts drift back to all those years ago, on the little bench, and now the bar, to the man whose presence had stirred something deep within you. You shake your head, putting on your headphones, distracting yourself with your favorite songs on your playlist.

Inside the bar, Pedro stands in the exact spot where he last caught a glimpse of you. A strange mix of disappointment and determination fills him, knowing he must find you again. The connection he felt was too strong to ignore – he needs to see if it was genuine or just a fleeting moment between two strangers on a park bench all those years ago.

The next day, you arrive at the DreamWorks Animation campus in Glendale, California. The excitement and nervousness intertwine as you step into the studio, ready to start your new role as a sound engineer.

Your supervisor gives you a brief overview of the project, "The Wild Robot," an animated film in production. "We need you to record and mix the voice actors' takes for each character," he explains. "Attention to detail is crucial – the right sound can bring the characters to life."

You nod, absorbing the requirements of your new role. "Got it. I'll make sure every line is perfect."

As you glance at the cast sheet for the voice actors, you notice that a few roles are still being finalized. Your mind drifts back to the previous night, to the man in the bar who looked so familiar. Shaking off the distraction, you focus on the task at hand.

Your days are filled with recording sessions and mixing tracks, immersing yourself in the world of "The Wild Robot." The work is demanding but rewarding, and you throw yourself into it with everything you have.

Despite your busy schedule, thoughts of the bench in Lucerne and the glimpse of him at the bar keep creeping back into your mind. The way Pedro had looked at you, the sense of connection you felt—it all seems so surreal now. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever see him again. The story you want is the story you get. Are you special, or was this all scripted in his head?

Back in his home in LA, Pedro can't shake the feeling that he needs to find you. He starts making discreet inquiries, hoping to track you down without drawing too much attention. The memory of your laughter and the warmth in your eyes keeps him going. He knows he needs to see you again, to see if what he felt was real.

As you finish another recording session, you glance at the cast sheet again. A new name catches your eye—Pedro Pascal as Fink the fox. Your heart skips a beat. Could it be him? The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.

Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on your work, but your mind keeps drifting back to the possibility. What if it really is him? What if fate has brought you together again? The anticipation builds as you wait for the next recording session, hoping that your paths will cross once more.

When the day finally arrives, you’re setting up the recording equipment, your hands trembling slightly with nervous energy. The door opens, and you hear footsteps approaching. You look up, and there he is—Pedro Pascal, standing in the doorway, looking just as surprised to see you.

“Hi,” he says, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. “It’s you.”

You smile, trying to steady your racing heart. “Yeah, it’s me. I didn’t expect to see you here. Well, I mean,” you start to fidget with your fingers, stumbling over your words, “I read the call sheet and I—”

“I didn’t expect to find you either,” he admits, taking a step closer. “But I’m glad I did.”

There’s a moment of silence, both of you taking in the significance of this unexpected reunion. Then, with a gentle smile, Pedro says, “Do you have time to catch up after this?”

You nod, feeling a rush of warmth and excitement. “I’d like that.”

As the recording session progresses, you can’t help but steal glances at Pedro, who seems equally distracted. When it’s finally over, you pack up your equipment, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Outside the studio, the two of you find a quiet corner to talk. Pedro takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ve thought about you a lot,” he admits. “Ever since that night in Lucerne, and then seeing you again at the bar… I knew I had to find you.”

“I’ve thought about you too,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know if it was real or I just made it all up in my head.”

“It’s real,” Pedro says, his gaze intense and sincere. “And I want to see where this goes, if you do too.”

You smile, feeling a sense of hope and possibility. “I’d like that very much.”

The air between you and Pedro is charged with electric energy as you talk and laugh, baring your souls to each other like old friends. Time seems to stand still as you swap stories and reveal your deepest desires, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. This is more than just a chance encounter; and the both of you can feel the spark of something new and thrilling forming between you.

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minkieater · 2 months ago

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spiderhead → yj

tattoo artist!yeonjun x fem!reader

smut mdni, cheating, alcohol consumption, toxic relationship wc. ~6k

the buzz from tattoo guns spread across the room as if there were a swarm of bees — the shop was busy today. yeonjun’s mouth tasted of tobacco and menthol, his favorite combination, his index and middle fingers stained with the scent from years of use. he rain a hand through his hair, feeling the ends tickle his neck, before burying both hands in the soft, fleece lined pocket of his hoodie.

he made his way over to his station, checking his tools, cleaning up the area so he could prepare for his next client. the steps whirled in his head as they always did when he fixed his area: wash his hands, put gloves on, sterilize his tools, cover his equipment, disinfect all surfaces. he loved this part, the organization, having everything accessible to make his art easier to complete.

god, yeonjun loved his fucking job. just the plain idea of him drawing and coloring on people’s bodies, having his art stay there forever, it was magical to him. yeonjun knew in high school that he wanted to be a tattoo artist — he bought a shitty tattoo gun online, spent his weekends drunk in beomgyu’s basement leaving wonky doodles on his friends in places no one would ever see. at parties, people would beg him to whip out the tattoo gun, implore him to etch small designs on their skin on the big leather couch in soobin’s parents’ house.

those nights turned into lonely ones spent in his bedroom, cross hatching lines into fake skin on his desk, shading with pointillism in designs he’d seen on pinterest, smoke from his lit joint dancing into the air of his bedroom. he had a year long apprenticeship at a tattoo shop in the middle of brooklyn when he turned nineteen, he tried college for a year when he graduated high school but quickly realized it just wasn’t for him. now, four years later, he was thriving: he was booked, he was busy, he was a real fucking tattoo artist and made real fucking money.

he grabbed his phone to check the time before he started disinfecting, only five more minutes before his client was supposed to show. he scrolled his lock screen, eyes thinning when he read the notifications.

v: did u turn the lights off before u left v: if my electric bill is high again just know you’re paying that shit

his lips pulled into a line, thumbs moving a mile a minute.

yj: yes i turned them off yj: u dont have to remind me every single day

he locked his phone and set it face down on the counter that ran along the back of the shop, packed cabinets filled with saran wrap, disinfectant and ink caps underneath. he shook his head, irritation flooding his thoughts, he’d left the lights on one time and now he’ll never hear the end of it.

well over a year now, together but still not quite official — on and off but pretty much living together, yeonjun has spent more time in your bushwick apartment than he has at his own downtown. granted the shop was closer to your apartment than his own, but he’s always liked your apartment more, anyway. tall ceilings, funky art, maps and concert posters on the walls, a unique touch to your living space with your red lacquered kitchen cabinets and dark wood accents where his own looked cheesy and cheap in comparison.

two bedrooms, one full bathroom and a separate room just for the television and couch, yeonjun thought you were fucking loaded when he first stepped foot in your apartment. it had to be your parents paying your bills, or maybe you were a nepo baby – this is new york, after all – but as your relationship grew and he learned more about your occupation, how much you truly made between high commission and tips, he’d never thought a hairstylist could make so much fucking money.

both of you in your careers, working full time with the public, both creative people that spend their days creating art that lives on people’s bodies. your canvases were humans, walking, breathing pieces of scrap paper that you drew on, painted on, poked, cut, shaded. the two of you related to one another too much in too many areas, on too many levels, so many conversations about people and their critiques, their wishes, their families, their stories. if you and yeonjun could do anything, it was talk.

you’d met on your twenty first birthday, a little over a month after yeonjun’s twenty second. you and your girl friends and coworkers he later learned circled up on the dance floor with you in the middle, rolling your hips to the beat of the song, head tipped back in a drunken haze and a cocktail in your hand. he eyed you from the bar, thinking nothing of it other than the fact that you were a drunk twenty one year old about to be obnoxiously loud in his ear all night. he sipped his glass of whiskey, neat, tattooed fingers wrapping around the glass that dripped sweat onto his palm.

the bar was hot, too hot for the outfit he had on — oversized black hoodie with the hood over his head, black pants, boots on his feet. he was dressed for early november in new york, layered to fight off the chill of brooklyn, not for whatever the hell was going on in his favorite bar.

you approached him first, slurring over your words, tucking your hair behind your ear which was already tucked. you batted your eyelashes, your eyes glossed over in intoxication — yeonjun was not biting, he wasn’t interested in the slightest. he gave you a tight lipped smile, clinked his glass with your own and turned his attention away from you, a small gesture to say what you’re looking for is not me, keep it moving.

but when you strolled into his shop two weeks later as a walk-in and yeonjun had a cancellation, only then was he taking the bait, the bait you had no idea you were dangling from a hook right in front of his own two eyes. you didn’t seem to recall your interaction on your birthday, you didn’t seem to recognize yeonjun at all and that only made him curious.

you asked for a ruler along your index finger, two lines to show the public what two inches really is. he laughed at that, a small puff of amusement leaving his perfect plump lips just as the words left yours.

“is that stupid?” you asked, head cocked to the side, eyebrows furrowed in question but your eyes wide and he swore he could see them shine as you looked up to him. he was taken then, from just that one look in your eyes – he knew he was in trouble.

“not at all,” he said as she shook his head, smile still dancing on his cheeks, “it’s funny, i’ll take you back.”

you sat down on the bench, yeonjun went searching for a ruler in the cabinets lining the back of the shop. you spoke mindlessly about your job as he searched, immediately telling him a story about a client you had a few days ago who wanted a balayage and not highlights but they couldn’t decipher between the two — they insisted on highlights when what they were describing was clearly a balayage. you spoke with such enthusiasm, your mouth running a mile a minute, words spilling from your lips just as fast as you thought them.

yeonjun had no idea what you were talking about but he knew you were adorable — much different from when you first tried to pick him up at that bar. your eyes are bright, words controlled, movements sharp and alert. what did stay the same was the confidence, your outward extrovertedness made it so yeonjun didn’t have to say much, just nodding and listening to your little story as he tried his best to keep his head on straight.

“finger tattoos don’t last as long as they do on other parts of the body,” he interrupted as your story ended, finally pulling a small red plastic ruler from the cabinet to his left.

you shrug, “i figured as much, my hands are in water a lot, too.”

yeonjun sucked a breath in through his teeth, “that makes it even worse.”

“so what, i have to come back and get it touched up, then? big deal,” your hands came up at your sides, shrugging altogether, “as long as you still work here when i have to get it touched up then it’s fine.”

“already commending my work when i haven’t even done the tattoo yet?” yeonjun wears a lazy, teasing smile as he sits down on his stool, grabbing the arm rest for you to lay your forearm on.

“who said i was talking about the tattoo?” yeonjun’s eyes shot up at you who was already wearing a smirk, his lips parted ever so slightly. he immediately cracked a smile, shaking his head as he looked back down to your hand.

“that’s crazy,” he mumbled under his breath as he put the ruler up to your finger, then grabbed his pen from his tray to mark the inches. maybe you did know — maybe you were purposely dangling the bait, or maybe the two of you just had the same amount of interest in each other. maybe there was no bait to begin with.

“i don’t think it's crazy,” he didn’t expect you to hear him or respond, but it seems you don’t have a filter of any kind as you keep going, “you’re hot, i’m hot, we have a lot in common already.”

“we have a lot in common?” he raised an eyebrow, looking up to you again after marking the second inch, he grabbed a different pen to mark the eighths.

“we’re both creative, both work with the public, we have picky people as clients, have to listen to unrealistic expectations, both work in careers that aren’t super common — not common, maybe abnormal? or maybe i’m trying to say we can be abnormal because our careers aren’t super judgemental? appearance wise, i guess, whatever, anyways, we also both know how to talk to people, i can keep going…”

“so all we have in common are our careers?” he’s still playing along as he finishes marking out the lines, “how does that look?”

“looks good to me,” you say after a quick glance, barely an inspection of your finger, “pretty much, but our careers teach us a lot about ourselves. oh! and we can do art trades, i’ll do your hair and you give me tattoos.”

“are you bribing me or pimping yourself out?” the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and the smile that paints itself on your face feigns innocence, he’d save that look for his sketchbook later tonight.

“maybe a little bit of both. are either of them working?” you cocked your head to the side again, swinging the feet that hung from the bench ever so slightly, careful not to kick anything in front of you. yeonjun had to reel himself in.

yeonjun had to be honest — with himself, and you — it started working the moment you stepped into the shop. you had no visible tattoos, a casual outfit on, sweatpants and a tee shirt that left just a sliver of skin between the hems of your clothes. your hair was done but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, you didn’t seem like anything special off first glance– in fact, you seemed the exact opposite of his type, the girls he usually went for. yeonjun was just as confused with himself as he was enamored by you.

“i don’t know, i think you might have to try a lil’ harder,” he faked a deciding face, eyebrows scrunched as he moved back in his stool, ushering for you to stand up. he looked at your finger from all angles, analyzing it as you stood to the side, lifting your hands, flexing your fingers as you stood. he was happy with his sketch, his outline, he was more then prepared to freehand a couple lines.

“you should let me try harder over some drinks if the tattoo comes out good,” your eyes were trained on your hand as you followed his instructions, moving your hands into every position he asked for.

yeonjun laughed at that, “if the tattoo comes out good? what, am i the one picking you up now?”

you shrugged as he ushered you to sit back down, “you might be, i’m trying to find out.”

he nodded with his lips pursed, folded into a frown that wasn’t exuding any sort of negative reaction, more impressed than anything. “fair game.”

your tattoo came out flawless, the lines he free handed onto your finger came out straight, perfect in thickness. as easy as it seemed, you knew the talent it took, the patience and a steady hand needed for such precision. after you paid, tipping him generously, your flirting returned with vengeance.

“i think we hit it off if i’m being honest,” you smiled, showing all of your teeth to the black haired man behind the counter, “do you have anyone else after me?”

he shook his head, “you’re my last, i had a cancellation.”

“oh my god– do you believe in fate? yeonjun, i think that’s what this is, i’m being so serious,” your eyes were wide, eyebrows shot up, smile wide. excitement bled from you, your veins, you were nothing but honest. so shameless, not a thought in your pretty little head that he’d reject you – he wasn’t sure if you’d care if he did.

he laughed, something he seemed to do too much during your entire service, his head hanging low in front of him before he picked it back up, looking at you who was already staring expectantly at him. “i don’t, but maybe if we go get drinks you can change my mind.”

you raised your fists, “i’ve won.”

the bar was halfway to your apartment, almost smack ass between the tattoo shop and your place. you’d been there before with your girlfriends, once or twice since your birthday – you could finally join in on the fun. yeonjun was dressed in all black, you’d soon come to find out he was always dressed in all black, and he never looked like he got enough sleep. you seemed so bright next to him, with your hair and your clothes and the plush keychains attached to your purse. you looked like total opposites, when you knew you had much more in common than what meets the eye.

that one night bled into the next year of your lives – something he was not expecting after your first interaction. it’s not like he’s never had a client try to bag him before, but something about you was different, it drove him insane that he couldn’t put a finger on it. he was used to playing games, always the winner, never the loser. he was used to confusion, being stuck in the inbetween, the gray area that sometimes came with relationships, or lack thereof. with you it was so straight forward, a slippery slope, not a hole he dug himself into but instead a well, one full of water, full of life. he never wanted to stop drinking from it, gulp after gulp, chugging until he was so full he thought he might spill over.

the spilling didn’t come until six and a half months in. your first two months were every man’s wet dream – he had every inch of you, every fistful of perpetually iron-curled hair, every corner of plush skin burned to memory – on every surface of your apartment and his.

in yeonjun’s past relationships, he never seemed to be the problem. if anything, he was the victim.

small fights to massive blown out arguments over petty shit, staying out too late with his coworkers at his favorite bar to beomgyu stealing him for a night out clubbing, missed texts and phone calls to going MIA for three days. yeonjun never seemed to understand what the issue was – petty arguments were never his thing, he’d rather stay silent than give into whatever the fuck his current plaything was yelling about this time. so what if he stayed out too late with his coworkers? he still came home. there’s no harm in a night out clubbing with his boys, she didn’t even know about the girl that was grinding against his dick all night, or the other one that had her lipstick smeared across his lips in the corner of the dark club. he went MIA for three days because his phone was dead, not because he had her number blocked. it was ridiculous, really, the things women would try and pin on him – yeonjun never seemed to think he was the issue at all.

the thought never crossed yeonjun’s brain that these behaviors were learned, or that he could teach them to anyone else. he never thought that his pretty, bright eyed new girlfriend would turn into a different version of himself – if she did, he’d be grateful, he thought himself pretty fucking cool – yeonjun never thought any of his behaviors were bad, but when yeonjun got a taste of his own medicine he knew he met his match.

he showed up at your apartment past midnight, drunk off his ass, clothes oozing whiskey, weed and burberry her. he let himself in with his key, the one you gave him after three months in, the one you told him to use whenever he wanted. he called out your name, searching from room to room, but you were nowhere to be found. he’d never shown up to an empty apartment, there’s never been a lack of you, cuddled up in a fuzzy robe, either under your duvet or sitting on the couch watching reruns of your favorite drama. yeonjun was confused, his dazed head couldn’t think up a proper reason for your absence, he decided to do what he absolutely fucking hated to be done to him.

he called you about thirty six times, texted you about forty two times. he also left four voicemails, not one of them nice.

he sat there on your couch – after a much needed shower, a bottle of water and a change of clothes you kept for him in your bottom drawer, he sobered up real quick. he felt more level headed, but he couldn’t ignore the anger that began to grow, a pit that sat heavy in his stomach: where the fuck were you? who were you with?

you damn near fell into the room an hour later, keys falling to the floor after you ripped them out of the door. you giggled to yourself, your heels in your hands, fingers curled into the heel of your black pumps. the strapless, sparkly scrap of fabric he could barely call a dress was crooked, your hair that was always purposely styled to perfection was a mess, your red lipstick was smudged down your chin. yeonjun’s seen this scene before, he’s done it, he’s lived it.

“who fucked you?” were the first words that left his mouth as he stood in the living room, oversized black clothes hanging off his frame like hade’s robes. the breath that left his nostrils was hot, burning his cupid’s bow, his jaw locked with his usually plump lips scrunched to a thin line.

you laughed – you fucking laughed. “you’re a fucking psychopath, junie. i just came back from a night with the girls!”

yeonjun was not buying it – he stepped closer. the stench of alcohol was masked by dior sauvage, a smell he knew too well, a smell that drifted past him as you nearly pushed him out of your way. yeonjun was dumbfounded and raging, his eyebrows furrowed together, his hands held out in front of him like he didn’t know what to do with them.

his girl, his only girl – well, other than the girl he made out with earlier – he couldn’t fathom the thought of someone else’s hands on you, being so close to you that you came home smelling like him. he followed you to the bathroom.

you were already stripped down bare – no bra and no panties to be seen on the pile on the floor with that thin scrap of fabric, yeonjun couldn’t collect his thoughts fast enough, his rage was creeping up his spine, sitting in his stomach like food poisoning, threatening to come out whether he wanted it to or not.

“you’re lying,” was all he could get out as you brushed through your hair, putting it in a tight knot atop your head, a small smile still sitting on your cheeks. he didn’t sound angry enough, his voice wasn’t stable, his feelings weren’t enough to give his voice ground to stand on.

“no i’m not,” you said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, like your words were the honest to god truth. you turned to him, your best innocent look paired with that award winning smile, “wanna shower with me? or did you already when you came home from the club?”

yeonjun had a full body reaction, his eyebrows furrowed and his face scrunched up in disbelief and shock, for just a moment there he thought he might be insane. did he make that up? was the dior he smelled just remnants from being with beomgyu earlier? no, no he showered, that was all you. he was not insane. he stepped closer.

the smell of a shower he’d taken just an hour ago filled the room, the body wash that you always used was the only scent he could decipher. he took a breath, “you fucked someone.”

“i think you might still be drunk, baby,” you wore a fake pout, raising your right hand to run your thumb across his bottom lip, “happy anniversary, by the way. six months!”

that was the start of everything – his pretty little bright eyed girlfriend was buried somewhere, six feet deep in wet soil, replaced with something akin to a fucking monster. when yeonjun first met you, you had told him you had so much in common, yeonjun didn’t believe it, didn’t see it. he thought the two of you were polar fucking opposites, yet he liked you anyway, liked that you introduced him to a new type of relationship. while yeonjun spent six months subconsciously teaching you his own behaviors, you spent the time purposely teaching him quite a few of your own.

goodmorning texts to goodnight texts to facetime – yeonjun never did any of that shit before. yeonjun has never bought a single person a bouquet of flowers in his entire life. yet here you stood, his pretty little bright eyed girlfriend, in the middle of your salon surrounded by a herd of your coworkers with a bouquet signed ‘your junie <3 love you baby!’

his friends called him whipped, a simp, a cuck, every name in the fucking book because yeonjun adored you, and it was painfully obvious. you’d come to beomgyu’s garage, parading around in a mini skirt and your tiny little purse that yeonjun was sure only had lip gloss inside, getting him beers from the fridge and cracking them open, handing them to him with a smile and sitting straight on your throne: his lap. his friends adored you too, they couldn’t figure out what you saw in yeonjun – with his dark clothes, heavy tattoos that covered his body, bags under his eyes, black hair and too much metal through holes in his face. his friends were constantly flirting with you, getting you whatever you needed, they were the ones cracking beers and serving them to you, yet you were doing it for yeonjun.

yeonjun was filled with pride, he loved it. a trophy they could look at but never touch. he’d never had this type of relationship before, someone so obsessed with him, someone willing to wait on him hand and foot, he slipped deeper and deeper into an emotion he’d never experienced before without even realizing it.

the day he did realize it, that was when the true fun began, because while he was unconsciously slipping, swimming deeper into that well, you stood at the top, holding the rope, pulling bucket by bucket out of the well with that award winning, innocent smile etched into your skin.

you weren’t kidding when you said you’d do art trades, even his coworkers knew your face by now, taehyun two stations down always offered his services when you sat down on yeonjun’s bench. you giggled and flipped your hair, saying why would i do that when my boyfriend’s a better artist than you?

god, yeonjun loved to hear those words leave your lips. it was a bit the two of you did, taehyun acted as if he was shot through the heart, a poisoned arrow slipping straight through his skin, and yeonjun could hear the sweet melody of your giggle through the shop. yeonjun has filled up one of your arms by now and half of the other– a garden, flowers, bees, butterflies, tattoos that were so undoubtedly you he couldn’t even make fun of you for them. he wouldn’t expect you to have anything else.

his favorite, though, was the YJ right above your hip. it was in yeonjun’s own handwriting, a doodle he marked on your skin for life, late at night after too many drinks – it was like he was in high school again. that was four months in.

that night, yeonjun felt the closest thing to his entire world caving in on him – he needed to go. he stared at the scribble on your hip while his face was buried between your thighs, you were writhing above him, hands buried in his hair, you always looked so fucking gorgeous like that. instead of being focused on you, determined to push you over the edge like usual, yeonjun’s head was clouded – hazy. he wondered how a person he’d met by chance just a few months ago could become so important, so detrimental to his life, he feared he would be a shell of himself if you ever chose to leave him.

it terrified him. he’d never felt this way about anyone before.

before that night, your relationship was golden – yeonjun was something out of a dream, a hero, the prince in your story, you were convinced you’d spend your life with him. he was honest, he was smart, he told you everything that he had wrapped up in his complex, dark brain, and you accepted every word that came from his mouth, every thought that popped into his head.

when he left that night, hours after shoving a twelve gauge needle in your skin with ink the color of his hair, you didn’t stress. you woke with a panic, of course, where the hell did your boyfriend go? but after twelve hours of no response, a trip to his shop, a night spent in his favorite bar, hours bent over your ikea bed frame, you knew what this was. you recognized this fear, you saw straight through him, yeonjun wasn’t as masked as he thought himself out to be. you’d shared too much, you knew too much about one another for yeonjun to be anything but transparent.

you paid attention. late nights, coming home smelling like another woman’s perfume, earrings that fell from his pocket when you did laundry, long and short pink and blonde and brown pieces of hair found around every inch of your apartment – you looked at the tattoo that sat above your hip, you knew there was no one else for you in the world. if yeonjun wanted to play the game, you’d play it too, you’d play it better.

the first three or four or twenty two times you did it – yeonjun didn’t notice. you even sent him home in one of yeonjun’s tees, one of his favorites, one that you successfully convinced yeonjun he left at his own apartment. when he couldn’t find it there, it wasn’t your issue anymore – with half of your wardrobe in two different places, you’re bound to lose a shirt or two.

it was only when you got sloppy, when you wanted him to notice, that he did. two months in, six and a half months after your relationship began, he’d caught you and you were so fucking close to convincing him that he didn’t.

“we’re fucking done,” he was seething as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a plush beige towel around your torso, no effort needed to keep yourself calm.

“why’s that?” you continued to feign innocence, stepping in front of the mirror to start applying your skincare, not even glancing at the man who stood next to you, his hands balled into fists.

“i know you fucked someone tonight,” his voice was stern, it was hideous on him. you loved the cool, calm yeonjun better – you loved your yeonjun, the one you spent endless nights with, looking through his sketchbook, where he showed you all of his doodles, his drawings, when he let himself be the most vulnerable. “there’s no use in denying it, v.”

“and what have you been doing for the past two months, yeonjun?” your head snapped to look at him, your voice matching his, cadence slipping into something more harsh, laying yourself bare for him. you supposed your time was up. his mouth opened and closed.

“great,” his head dropped, low, sarcastic laughter slipping from his lips, “you fuck someone and blame it on me? project your cheating onto me?”

“there’s no use denying it, jun. have you talked to beomgyu? maybe you should ask him what he did after he dropped you off.”

you physically watched his face turn red – ears hot, crimson bubbling up from his chest to his throat to his face – you had to stop yourself from smiling. he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, and you slept like a baby. freshly fucked, coming down from a solid drunk, you felt brand new.

it was a week before you saw him again – honestly, you were shocked it took that long. that gorgeous, long black hair that curled around his ears, peeked from the hem of his hoodie, you longed to touch it, feel it between your fingers. he looked like he hadn’t slept since the last time he saw you, his bags sat heavy, dark, in your entryway, key in hand. you wanted to take care of him, wanted him to get a good night’s rest – next to you.

you sat on your couch, not a muscle to be moved in his direction, the two of you just stared at each other from across the room. moments went by, you’re sure maybe a full minute, then he was pacing towards you.

“hello?” you asked in disbelief and concern before he was pulling you up by your wrists, smashing his lips against yours. his lips tasted of whiskey, neat, cigarette smoke, menthol. you thought maybe you were addicted to tobacco too from the way his mouth felt euphoric against yours, an old friend you’d missed. it’s only been a week but it could’ve been a year for all you knew.

“you’re mine, you know that?” he’d asked between kisses, his mouth swallowing yours, his tongue stealing the words you couldn’t begin to think let alone speak. instead you nodded into his lips, fingers tangling in his hair, body forcing itself into his, you missed him. you missed his smell, his touch, the feeling of him against you, you missed everything. you never wanted to part from him again.

he had you split open on the couch as he knelt on the floor, head between your thighs again, eyes trained on the YJ that sat on your hip. he hadn’t seen it in a week, his brand on you, his initials that were inked into your skin for the rest of your life – he missed being between your legs, missed tasting you, missed taking everything you had to fucking offer. he missed you, his other half, the monster he created, his comfort, his home.

yeonjun would be lying if he said he was willing to part ways with you, but he’d also be lying if he said he was willing to acknowledge to the full extent of what he felt for you. yeonjun felt betrayed, played, messed with, like you snuck into his brain and plucked every single thought out of his head and fucking warped it. god, he loved you. he was so scared.

he told you as he barreled into you, fucking you like he hated you, whispering those words in a choked breath over and over into the shell of your ear. he couldn’t believe he was admitting it, couldn’t believe he was saying those three little words – you’re different, you’re everything. he loved you.

the months to follow were dancing right on the edge, together, but not quite. apart, but were you ever really apart? every night, wrapped in your sheets or his sheets – always someone’s sheets, always together. you never discussed sleeping with beomgyu, yeonjun never brought it up again, he looked back at that moment in his head and all he saw was weakness, a time where he let you slip away – let you get away from him. you never spoke of it, but it was always there, between the two of you like a wall.

that wall that stood between you was tall and rock solid, unlike the glass doors to yeonjun’s head, yeonjun’s thoughts, that wall of his was unbreakable – even when he came home smelling like burberry her again no argument in the world could pry that night out of him again.

you knew better this time than to try with beomgyu again, he hadn’t reached out since the night yeonjun left your apartment, you knew better than to try with anyone. instead of fighting fire with fire, you got distant, you spoke less, you asked less, you tried less. you became the ghost of his pretty, bright eyed girlfriend, one that had been to hell and back, one that learned from her mistakes. you became a reflection of yeonjun.

yeonjun checked his phone after his client, only two hours had gone by, surprisingly enough. it was a solid first session for his client’s leg sleeve, but his bones were aching, his eyes sore from being focused for so long.

v: you left the fucking lights on

#choi yeonjun #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun #tomorrow x together #txt smut #txt x you #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt #i have a crush on choi yeonjun

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stardustloserdoll · 1 year ago

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hii can you do friends to lovers with johnnie x youtuber!reader? and the reader is like friends with jake and thats how they met? love your work btw <3

tyyy 🩷

you know i’ll keep you in my locket

“y/n you made it! come, i want you to meet someone!” jake quickly grabbed my hand, dragging me through the crowd pulling me in many directions. until he stopped in his tracks, “ah there he is.” jake spoke turning back giving me a smile. “johnnieee.” jake sang pulling me next to him with a big smile on his face.

“what.” the guy johnnie said looking up from his drink to look at jake. “this is y/n! remember i told you all about them?” johnnie nodded his head sending a smile towards me “yeah you yapped a bunch about them.” johnnie replied, making me laugh. “you know me, the yap king. anyways, y/n! this is johnnie.”

i smiled waving at johnnie “hey, nice to meet you. jakes also told me a lot about you. i like your shirt by the way.” johnnies eyes lit up “you like this band?” i nodded my head “i love them! i have all of their cds and posters all over my room.” i laughed putting my hands in my pockets. jake watching us with a big smile on his face.

“oh yeah johnnie! y/n is also a youtuber! i think you guys should do a collab together. it should be fun.” jake said wrapping his arms around our shoulders. “im down.” i smiled looking over to johnnie. “yeah me too.”

ever since that day, johnnie and i have been inseparable. every time i saw him, the bigger my crush on him got. i always got nervous and stuttered around him, probably making it obvious i liked him. i don’t know if i’ll ever tell him how i feel..

"hi everyone, today i have a special guest joining me…johnnie!" i smiled pulling him in frame "hi."

"johnnies going to attempt to do my makeup. i glanced at johnnie sending him a reassuring smile."i know he'll do great."

johnnie started applying the foundation onto my face, patting it down softly. "how about we tell them how we met." i said moving some hair out of my face.

"ooh you're right!" johnnie smiled moving onto the eyeshadow and mascara, "alright so we met at a party, and jake introduced us to each other. jake told me a lot about y/n, but i never got to meet y/n, but i'm glad i finally did."

"aww, johnnie." johnnie smiled tapping my knee signaling he was done. “how’s it looking.” i smiled. "it looks. pretty good actually. i made a mess though." he laughed cleaning where the mascara smudged. "i bet it looks great. now, the hardest part. the eyeliner." i said lifting it up to him. "oh god, if you look like a clown by the end of this im so sorry." johnnie held my face gently as he began applying the eyeliner.

"anyways,” johnnie said resuming “back to the story. it was an instant connection, we liked a lot of the same things, especially our humor. since then, we’ve literally been hang out like..everyday. i'd have to say my favorite person ever is y/n, sorry jake."

"you heard him jake. IM his favorite." i smiled sticking my tongue out. "okay, i think i did pretty good." johnnie said leaning back making sure the wings were sharp. "im really excited to see the finishing product." i said clapping my hands. johnnie set the eyeliner down and told me to open my eyes. "guys look at the matching necklaces johnnie and i got."

"we have pictures of each other in them." johnnie smiled opening the heart locket. "he looks so cute in this picture." i laughed raising it up to the camera. "y/n looks so pretty here." johnnie smiled looking into my eyes, glancing down at my lips.

“why are you looking at me like that.” i laughed pinching his cheek. “what do you mean!” johnnie yelled lifting his arms up. “you’re looking at me like you wanna kiss me.” johnnie turned away, mumbling something under his breath. “what was that johnnie?” he shook his head mumbling a ‘nothing.’ “wait i forgot the lipstick.” johnnie reached over and grabbed the lipstick, carefully applying it.

"okay y/n, are you ready to see your final look." i nodded my head and raised the mirror. “johnnie.” i gasped. “I TOLD YOU IT WAS BAD!” i shook my head. “NO ITS SO GOOD! you have a magic hand.” i smiled setting down the mirror. johnnie smirked at my comment making me hit his shoulder softly.

“okay guys, that’s the end of the video. thank you so much for watching! make sure to like and subscribe, andddd if you want more of johnnie i will have his channel linked down below. say bye johnnie!” i wrapped my arm around his shoulder waving. “baaaiii!”

“i had so much fun johnnie.” i grinned setting my hands on my lap. “me too, i always have fun with you y/n.” johnnie smiled as he played with the necklace. “uh y/n. can i ask you something.” i nodded my head “yeah of course.”

“well,” johnnie hesitated “um i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you lately, and we’ve gotten really close. the more i spend time with you, the more i start to fall even more in love with you.” i blushed placing my hands on top of his. “i feel the same way. ever since i met you i instantly fell for you. i love everything about you johnnie.”

johnnies eyes widened at that, a faint blush spreading on his pale cheeks. “well, what do you say we make it official?” i asked holding his hand. “id love to.”

#johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff

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potatomountain · 2 months ago

Text

Alien In My Living Room

Pairing: Alien!Hongjoong x fem reader x neighbor Cowboy! San Summary: After inheriting your farm it's been a struggle- not as much as the alien that crashed there and has been a little menace for some time. A big enough menace your neighbor (and crush) come over at the wrong time- or maybe the right time. WC: 4k AU: cowboy vs alien! hentai Genre: pwp, scifi Warning(s): 18+ rating, eggpreg, breeding kink, tentacles, weird bodily anomalies. rainbowish cum, restraints, some slight predator/prey dynamics if you squint. threesome. double penetration, anal (male/female receiving) Betas: @bunnliix ~ @adelusionforyourthoughts ~ @yourfatherlucifer AN: Happy birthday to the LOML Kim Hongjoong! And also a happy birthday to one of my favorite fanfic writers @sanjoongie !! You can probably guess what bits were thrown in just for you! ps: I kinda got the idea from the song "Llama in my Living Room" by AronChupa! dividers and Banner by me! Ageless blogs that interact with this piece, even a like, will be blocked INSTANTLY, no exceptions.

Main Masterlist

The worst part of being a city girl from a farm was when the farm became yours. Still a year into owning and living back on your family’s farm and you still had no idea what to do with all the land. Your neighbors handled the last harvest, and you debated selling more of the land to them and mostly keeping the ranch house. Of course you knew how to take care of the land, you grew up doing so, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to spend your adult life doing it either.

But that hadn’t been a problem for the last couple of months. Instead your biggest concern was what the fuck you were going to do about the Alien that had taken up residence on your land. He looked human enough, but not at first. His pretty face didn’t erase the being you knew was under there, more limbs than torso, the translucent pink his hair currently was. How he had molded into a man that looked like one of the idols on your posters was beyond you. Though you supposed it wasn’t a complete transformation, as you learned the one time you saw him shirtless. If you ignored that, he was pretty to look at.

But he was also annoying.

“Are you ever going to fix your stupid ship and get out of here?” You snapped out, swiveling in your desk chair to glare at the being who was currently harassing your cat, again. Why your cat stood for it and didn’t hiss was beyond you, weren’t they good predators? Salem managed to slip out of Hongjoong’s hands, running for one of the many hidey holes he had around your home. Hongjoong looked up from the floor with wide blue eyes, the stars themselves shining in his irises. “I thought you liked having me around here?” “You’re terrorizing my adorable kitten and you’re out there at ungodly hours banging and causing a ruckus! Why would I like that?” You huffed out again, crossing your arms over your chest. “And for a creature that doesn’t eat, you sure like to eat all my food!” “I’m sorry- I need energy and I can’t get it my usual ways.” He protested, crawling over to you in such a clumsy way you wondered how this could be a being capable of space travel.

You frowned, lifting your leg to press your heel into his shoulder and stop him from getting too close. “What do you mean- that sounds awfully sus.” “Sus?” “Suspicious. Jesus, you managed to learn how to blend in so well but you can’t manage the lingo?” You rolled your eyes, still unsure how he managed to adapt so effortlessly. He never gave you an explanation, just transformed fully into this and within a few days he was talking like he had lived on earth his whole life- minus missing many social cues. “Anyways, I thought you didn’t need to eat so why do you need the extra energy now?” Hongjoong was still pressing forward, something different in his eyes that made you apprehensive. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question.

The sudden appearance of one of his nearly translucent tentacles sliding up your leg sent off warning bells in your head. It pushed up the fabric of your sweatpants, leaving behind a little bit of slick that darkened the light gray fabric. Was it supposed to be wet? “I need the extra energy to produce and lay my eggs… you’re really warm actually.” The words came out like a lustful purr, furthering your panic. Quickly you slapped the tentacle aside, watching him wince as you stood up and put distance between you. “Sorry for asking, this is super interesting stuff but I uh- gotta go catch my fridge.” You mentally slapped yourself for the stupid excuse, but hoped he would buy it as you rushed out of your office.

He hadn’t been flirting with you had he? Hadn’t implied to fuck his eggs into you… that’s what you told yourself. Yet the idea was now in your head, as was the question if he even had a dick or would he use-

The train of thought had your body reacting, which just concerned you even more. He was an alien! Why couldn’t you have dirty thoughts about your neighbor instead? The mental reminder of the cowboy next door just had your cheeks even more heated, slapping them in an attempt to control yourself. Why were you suddenly so damn horny? You really needed the fresh air, booking it towards your kitchen and back patio.

However, you didn’t make it through the living room before you were tackled to the couch, bent over the arm and face in the cushions. You hadn’t even heard him following you, but now you could feel him pressing down against your back, his heavy pants so obvious as he leaned over your body close enough you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Sorry Star, but you ran away smelling so good. Humans like consent, right?” He sounded quite worked up, touching you in several ways that was making your mind fuzzy with heat. His hands pushed up your shirt, but there were several tentacles touching your skin. They were warm and slick, slithering over your flesh.

You realized you enjoyed how they felt, skin feeling hotter where the slick remained, almost sensitive. “W-we do. Hongjoong, what do you normally do with your eggs?” “Incubator on ship…” He panted out, his hands now pinning your arms to the cushion above you. “It broke when I crashed, don’t have the parts to fix it. Keep them safe until I return home to gift… but I can't wait.”

Biting down on your lip as the tips of his tentacles rubbed at your nipples under your bra- which you don’t remember getting pushed up - you tried to turn your head to look at him, just to have your breath catching in your throat at his needy expression. You could really see the stars in the blue of his eyes, no white in sight. His tongue lulled out, the same translucent pastels as the tentacles roaming your body. He was losing his human visage, but in the slightest ways, even the pale pink of his hair seemed almost otherworldly with how it fell in his face.

You should tell him off, knowing that the pleading look he gave you was your consent. As annoying as the creature was, he was not unbearable or disrespectful, changing any errors he made to suit your tastes. It was that knowledge that had you caving in. Within seconds of your nod your clothes were gone, bra and panties in particular ripped off you as you were put in such a lewd position but you couldn’t find the time to feel ashamed. Not when the warm slick of one of his appendages was rubbing between your slick folds, teasing you, while the rest sought out sensitive bits and toyed with them. They sucked on your nipples, rubbing around your throat and adding pleasure that made your head spin. Hongjoong let out a particularly pornagraphic moan just behind you that just added to the haze you were beginning to drown in. “Oh you like that?” He chuckled before moaning louder, moaning your name, which had your body reacting. The shiver that coursed through you had your back arching in response, pushing your behinds back against him. You wanted more.

He happily gave you more, pushing the tentacle into you with an inhuman cry of his own. It almost sounded eerie, probably did, but you lust-addled mind didn’t register at such. It did register another male calling your name in a panic, and your kitchen door slamming open.

You looked up in time to see your friendly neighbor, once childhood friend, standing in the archway of your living room, beautiful sun kissed skin almost pale from the shock that the visage of Hongjoong probably presented. There were at least four tentacles on your body at the moment, and you couldn’t see how many more he had out, but enough to really shock the muscle man as he passed out, falling to the ground.

“San?” You attempted to pull away from Hongjoong, concerned for the man that laid on your wooden floor. His cowboy hat had fallen off, a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead and skin exposed under the vest. You were a lot less concerned than you should be, instead finding him quite delectable, almost like you wanted to jump onto his cock. The harsh way Hongjoong shoved his tentacle deeper into your cunt distracted you from those thoughts. “Pay attention to me Star, I’m the one fucking you.” He growled out, his hold on you tightening all over possessively. Gone was the needy being from a moment ago, Hongjoong was now completely in charge with the way you were lifted up off the couch and displayed in the air. He turned you to watch him, his own clothes coming off. He still had the shape of a human, even a cock you noticed, but the colors of his tentacles now moved over his skin like a work of art.

It was hypnotizing. “Hongjoong~” You whined out, glancing down as best you could to take in the sight of just how he was fucking you. Like straight out of a hentail, the sensations were almost too much.

It was his thumb on your clit that drove you over the edge, rubbing it in perfect stimulating circles that you cried out, creaming all over the slimy tendril. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his body practically vibrating and you wondered how good it must feel to him for him to look so blissed out.

You didn’t get a chance to ask, falling to the couch the next second as Hongjoong was tackled to the floor by your neighbor. In the struggle he had let go of you completely, the wind knocked out of you from your fall, but some sense knocked into you as well. Still catching your breath you scrambled up, unsure just where to insert yourself in the mess of limbs flying about. “San! Hongjoong! Stop it!” You couldn’t really blame San for freaking out, since Hongjoong was an alien just casually in your living room. Casually fucking you, but making sounds that could be misconstrued.

San halted his fist, sitting on top of the being that had most of his other limbs restrained with his own. “But Miss he-” “He’s a friend San, alien or not.” You huffed out, bending down next to them and fixing Hongjoong with a stare. “And you won’t harm him either.” “But you were thinking about him fucking you! While I was inside you, it’s not fair!” He actually pouted, which was almost funny.

You were too embarrassed to laugh, San turning his attention to you. How could you not want to fuck him though? Toned cowboy, a real gentleman that had been helping you with the farm- even now in dusty jeans and a leather vest, hair tossled from when his hat fell off, he was fine as fuck. “Have you really not been noticing the way I eye fuck you when I ask your help for any manual labor?” “I… didn’t want to get my hopes up-” San mumbled out, just to get flipped over suddenly, Hongjoong holding him down. “Hey!!” “She’s mine human- back off!” “Like hell I will. You don’t have a claim on her.” “I was in the middle of that when you so rudely interrupted.” As if to show off, he moved one tentacle over to you, wrapping around your bare thigh and then the tip shoved itself back into your cunt. Instantly you moaned out, head falling back as it pushed deep. “Think you can fuck her like this?” San was pouty as he watched, but the lust there was unmistakable. “You have a lot to fuck her with. That doesn’t mean shit- is that a fucking egg.” San screeched out, both of you watching a small round object move through the tube-like appendage. You could feel it as it moved along your thigh, heart racing with panic. You tried to grab at it, stop him, but he had your arms pinned at your sides. The stars in his eyes swirled with chaos, striking you with a bit of fear.

Fear that melted away as you were stretched out more than you thought possible, the egg shooting up into you and pushed into your womb. It was intense, head falling back as you cried out, shaking from the sensation.

“Oh my God-” San was in awe at your sight, which drew your attention even through the haze. You wanted to slump forward, instead you couldn’t tear your eyes away as cum shot out of Hongjoong’s pink cock onto San, covering him in what looked like melted pearls. “Fuck-” San winced as a splatter got on his cheek, but Hongjoong wasn’t paying attention to either of you.

For what seemed like an eternity, both you and San couldn’t tear your eyes away from the alien. His tendrils trembled from the aftershocks of his climax, his hands moving up his body and twisting his own pink nipples while there was a soft glow behind his closed eyes.

You did notice that Hongjoong was no longer holding San down, just sitting on his thighs and tilted back in pure bliss. San could’ve easily pushed him off, in fact you had no idea why he didn’t. Was he just as enamored with the alien as you were?

The shifting between your legs reminded you that you were still impaled on the alien tentacle, though now he was pulling out. In a moment of panic you tried to grab at it, whining because you didn’t want to be left empty.

But even as it was pulled out, you didn’t feel empty though, the egg inside a weighted reminder that you were being bred. Collapsing forward on your palms not that you were let go, you panted out. “J-Joongie~ Please give me more.” You whined, needing more, and that was all you could think about in your hazy state. Hongjoong murmured something in a language you didn’t understand- what you recognized as his own language- as he slipped off of San and practically ignored you. So you whined again, reaching out for him.

“Are you just going to ignore her?” San scoffed, pushing himself up onto his elbows now that he was mostly free.

Hongjoong shook his head, most of his extra limbs retracting. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” San screeched out just as you let out a loud noise of confusion. You were getting really hot now.

In a flash, San's clothes were just gone, exposing his own thick and throbbing cock standing at attention. Your eyes zeroed in, spit building up in your mouth as the need for Hongjoong shifted to San and his throbbing member. Hongjoong giggled breathlessly, motioning with his fingers to the two of you. “Fuck. Fertilize. Next egg is prepping.” He rubbed his lower stomach now, a tiny bulge there that you noticed finally.

The eagerness to be filled with another egg had you crawling over to San and straddling his lap.

“Hey hey wait- sweetheart just think- fuck~!” San’s protests were cut off as you impaled yourself down on his cock, all fight leaving him as he grabbed your sides. “Fuck I think I can feel it. It’s hot. You’re throbbing… sweetheart I-” “Shut up and just fuck me San. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it before.” Sliding a hand up through his hair, you tugged at it to get his full attention. “Or did you wear such a slutty outfit just for the hell of it and not to get me staring?” He swallowed hard, heat darkening his features and a bashful pout on his features. “But not like this.” He didn’t deny, and for you that was enough reason to roll your hips and feel him move inside you. He was harder than the tentacles, but just as deep that he probably could feel that large egg sitting in your womb. “Sweetheart please.”

“Would you prefer to carry my eggs?” Hongjoong moved to sit beside you both, staring at the spot of cum that had dried on San’s sharp cheek. “Because I can arrange that.” Neither of you answered, both instead groaning at the thought, picturing San’s taunt stomach bulged out with the tentacles or eggs or both. Hongjoong laughed at your thoughts, at least it seemed so with the knowing smirk on his lips. “I could just fuck you both that way.”

You were on your back the next second, legs pushed up by San’s thighs and both of your behinds exposed to the warm air of your home. He seemed just as surprised as you were, only for his confusion to melt away, brows furrowed as he looked down between you. Your slightly swollen stomach was a sight to see pressed against his lower abdomen- hell he was a sight to behold just hunched over you and trapping you in with your legs and his wide shoulders. There was a slap, San lurching forward with a yelp that quickly turned into a groan, leading to control snapping and he was finally giving you what you wanted. “Sorry Sweetheart~” He drawled out, rough hands from years of farm work holding your hips still as he slammed his cock into you at an even rougher pace.

You didn’t care one bit, head falling back and just taking what he was giving you. It felt like a heavy haze of lust was encompassing you again, moans spilling from your lips as all you could do was lay there and get bred. Not that you minded at all.

Greedily you grabbed onto San’s shoulders, nails digging in as he bent forward more to rest his forehead on your shoulder. The soft grunts and whispers of your name and the dozens of different names of endearment he had for you falling from your lips. His breath felt hot on your skin, but nothing beat the pulsating heat from your womb.

Not even the slick intrusion in your rear, which by San’s reaction, he had a similar intrusion. “Fucking hell- my ass!” He twisted enough to growl at the alien that refused to be forgotten, just to let out a higher pitched moan than he was moments ago. It almost matched yours, the double penetration of his cock and now one of Hongjoong’s slimy tentacles pushing up inside, made everything almost impossibly tight.

For you and San. “What, don’t like it?” Hongjoong mused, thrusting the tendrils in and pushing you both across the floor a bit. “Do I need to do the fucking as well.” With an annoyed hiss, San turned back to you, a challenge in his eyes that ended up matched by his dimpled smirk. “Seems like he got lonely, doesn’t it sweetheart?” You nodded, eyes rolling back at how deep both your holes were currently filled. “D-don’t mind. Come on Sannie baby, fill me up. He wants it so bad~ give it to me please.” With how tightly you two were pressed together you managed to grab his firm butt cheeks, loving how they tensed as your nails dug in deep.

He hissed again, then picked up pace that put his earlier one to shame. Now cries and screams fell from your lips, the wood beneath your back a harsh reminder of where you were but with both of them fucking you at such an animalistic pace you couldn’t even think.

Even when you came you could hardly tell when it started or passed, just trembling beneath them and holding on for your dear life.

Hongjoong was just in sight to the side of you both, stroking his pink cock in sync with the tendrils he was fucking you both with. You were well aware when San started spilling his seed into you, his cry matched by an almost overwhelming heat between your legs as he filled you up deep. The egg pulsated in your womb, just absorbing what San was giving you, satisfying you in ways you didn’t know you needed.

The alien stilled himself inside you both, no eggs pushed in but his pretty pearlescent cum splattered on the side of both San and yours faces. The second it seemed to touch your skin the haze in your mind seemed to thicken. It would have you suspicious if you didn’t feel so damned content and peaceful.

In fact, so content and peaceful that the next time you were actively aware of your body and mind you were sitting on the couch, cleaned up and curled against San’s side. The man was once more wearing pants, a blanket was wrapped around you, and Hongjoong was sitting on the coffee table passing for a regular human almost.

The two were chatting, and you couldn’t really make out what was said until Hongjoong caught your attention with the phrase “I thought I’d never get you two to breed.” You sat up, frowning a bit. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” By the sudden panic on his face, you guessed he hadn’t realized he said it. “Well- uh- I mean you’ve been thinking about sleeping with him since I got here!” While it wasn’t a lie, you shifted to get up and interrogate him more.

Both Hongjoong and San stopped you, hands on your swollen and heated stomach. Right, they had literally just bred you…. Convenient that San had stopped over when he did. “Sannie, why did you stop over today?” “The last few weeks there were usually weird sounds coming from your field around this time so I thought I could come over and ask you about it.” The sweet man was staring at your stomach, much more calm about this situation than he had been earlier.

Even you felt more calm, which was alarming by itself. You don’t remember any sounds around this time, but it was also the time of day that Hongjoong would be in the barn working on fixing his ship. Today he insisted on bothering your cat Salem though… it clicked. Slowly you turned to the inhuman being who looked to be perspiring oil down his neck. “Hongjoong… did you plan this from the beginning?”

San joined you in staring the nervous alien down, which considering what had just transpire was an ironic turn of events. “Now that you mention it… it is odd. When he was touching me I just got so damned horny too.”

“Same actually… think it’s some alien trick?”

“Maybe the slime?”

“Hmm maybe… fucking hell we’re talking about this like it’s the weather. What the hell did you do Hongjoong?” You snapped out, hissing at the creature.

He couldn’t meet your eyes, but his explanation came out like word-vomit. How his ship was technically fixed weeks ago, his incubator was fine, but he couldn’t leave like that. It took both you and San to pull it out of him. “Because I maybe, accidentally, imprinted on you both… now I’ll get sick if I’m away from you two for too long… Might have made sure it’s the same for you both now…” He pointed to your stomach, really solidifying what you had done.

San and you both scoffed, then shared a nonchalant look. Despite the daunting situation, there was a big part of you that you didn’t think would have minded even without the added imprint or whatever Alien thing Hongjoong had going on. It seemed the same for him. Still, you both grinned, then laughed. “Ha. Aliens.”

Taglist (Form): @candypop1611 | @vannabanana1995 | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou

| @therealcuppicake | @lavishloving | @pearltinyy | @vampiregirl215

#pirateeznet #mirohsaurorasociety #lapydiariesnet #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong and san #san smut #choi san x reader #hongjoong x y/n #alien hongjoong #cowboy san #happy birthday Hongjoong

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cellsshapedlikestars · 21 days ago

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ok so I don't get involved in fandom drama, but I saw a post that got me thinking about one of my favorite jonsa moments in the books that I feel like is a bit overlooked?

I'm putting it under a cut because my thoughts are scattered and possibly confusing but whatever lol

so I found the post on my for you tab (why do i even go in there?) and it was about how Sansa is super classist for this part: Sansa sighed as she stitched. "Poor Jon," she said. "He gets jealous because he's a bastard."

(Don't worry, the poster did point out that all the Starks are classist to some degree, but Sansa is the most, and how Arya just thinks of him as her brother. gotta love people who try to bury their Sansa hate lol. like there was no other point to the post. it didn't even make me mad cause it was just kind of a dumb, very surface level take that was clearly just meant to point out how Sansa's such a meanie)

now, if you follow me, you probably know that I'm not someone who reads a ton of metas or even believes jonsa will be canon, but if it is, I think this is such an underrated moment.

Because Sansa sees him in a way none of her other siblings do, because she doesn't think of him as her true brother.

Arya thinks of Jon as her brother. For her, she and Jon are the same, but they aren't, and she doesn't see that - because she's 9 years old and for her, Jon is an outsider like her, and that relationship is such a safe space for her. (ugh I actually love the Jon & Arya relationship I really don't get to write it enough because I do tend to focus more on Sansa's relationship with Arya). Anyway, Arya doesn't really understand the implications of Jon being a bastard. Like, that isn't going to change for him, except in a very extreme circumstance. But she will always be trueborn. (we're taking gender out of the equation here, which is its own beast that has been talked about a ton so I won't go into it)

Arya is blinded by her love and adoration of Jon. Robb doesn't see it at all because why would he even consider it? (and even if he did, we don't see it cause there's no Robb POV). Bran and Rickon are probably too young to think about. But Sansa sees Jon for who he is, and what she says is a fact. Is it a nice thing to say? Maybe not, but it is 100% true, and she's clearly emotionally intelligent enough to see his circumstances and understand how that effects his actions.

I think that's why I found the post so funny, cause I'm like - and? Jon IS a jealous bastard. He spends the entire Winterfell feast being soooooo salty about Joffrey and Myrcella and Tommen and even Robb (radiant Sansa gets a pass tho) even though there's literally no other reason for it. He spends the rest of the books trying so hard to suppress how much he wants to be Lord of Winterfell. He loves Robb, but he's jealous of Robb, and he struggles a lot with that and feels guilty for wanting what Robb has.

Anyway, this is one of my fav jonsa foreshadowings (if it ever becomes canon) because to me, it just means that Sansa can see through his bullshit better than a lot of other people. And I like the idea of that, that she sees him.

meanwhile Jon's just over there like "yeah yeah yeah, Sansa's radiant, but have you seen how insipid Myrcella is??"

#no i will not be adding tags to help people find my post #i do not want people to find my post #this is for me & the 5 people that follow me who will actually click the keep reading link #and maybe this part isn't that overlooked #but i don't read a ton of metas so it's possible i missed discussion of it

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kairismess · 1 year ago

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❝HIS HEART IS ALL YOURS❞

🏐 genre: fluff ~

✒️ word count: 1,198

💭 summary: it had never dawned on you that the great king of the court, tooru oikawa, would ever have a crush on you: a mere background character in the greater scheme of things. if only you knew just how much he adored you–maybe then you'd realize you're more than a side character in the plot of your (and his) life.

💗 special mention: @moonswolfie for requesting this on my @kairiscorner acc !!

🍧 request: "Beg and you shall recieve, make oikawa fall for the nerd girl😈😈😈"

the concept of being in a relationship was foreign to you. you had never really had a proper relationship with anybody in regards to romance; it was like all and every thought of romance was something you never truly experienced, if you didn't count otome games and dating sims that you always pored over, spent all your time playing and devoting your allowances to new costumes and dialogues from your favorite love interests that made you feel pretty, wanted, and loved.

you never really stood out to anybody, that much you believed was true. you found it hard to see anybody liking you, who avidly wore anime shirts and collected expensive figurines and hung up posters of your favorite game series, cartoons, animes, movies, and shows all over your room. and you don't even wanna bring up the fact that you casually play rpgs whenever you can, wearing the cutest set of headphones that made you stand out in... a rather awkward way–a way you just wish you never got attention from, through stares and stifled chuckles of amusement from others.

you did all you could to ignore the stares, the laughter, the snide comments from girls who thought they were better than you–and you had grown quite used to being alone, to finding solace in games and the internet. and though it wasn't healthy, this was a place you called home; and those characters on your screen that always smiled whenever you chose a good interaction choice, whenever you held them in the right places, they made you feel happy.

but there was another boy who wanted to make you feel happy, a boy who appeared and acted like he came right out of a fairy tale; the male lead in a shoujo manga you never thought you'd live out to be female lead in.

tooru oikawa–the great king of the court, the boy every girl in your year had the hots for. you never really paid that much attention to him because, of course, why would you waste your valuable time and energy on a boy you never knew well, nor would even take an interest in you?

sure, he was your classmate and occasional partner for activities and group works, but his personality always seemed so fake. you knew he was acting like a kind of host boy in a host club, and though you knew guys like that were totally your type, you always kept your guard up around him.

it wasn't like he was going to hurt you, anyway, he was too gallant for that, it seemed. the way a boy like this would only hurt you would be through getting your hopes up that he'd ever like you, and ultimately thank you for being a mere fan and forget your name, maybe laugh about your silly headphones and the way your eyes shone whenever your favorite character called you cute in a dating sim.

but... it was these very qualities that drew oikawa to you.

oikawa had only known you existed for a few months now, since he saw you so often during class as his new seatmate. he knew you weren't anything like the girls that vied for his attention, and it felt like a breath of fresh air for him, not having someone breathe down his neck every few seconds at every little thing he does.

sure, you were a little messy sometimes, a little quiet, a little awkward–a little in your own head most of the time, but it was, in your own unique way, charming. oikawa would instinctively smile to himself whenever you'd get flustered at him asking you for a pencil while you were sneaking to play your otome games on your phone in class, and he'd feel a little proud of you whenever you'd recite in class.

he knew it was hard for you sometimes to show confidence, though he always encouraged you to stand up straight, "you look pretty when you hold your chin up high," he'd always say. of course, you'd sometimes side eye him, and it'd make him a little worried he said something wrong, but it's the fact that you keep oikawa on his toes about how he makes you feel around you that allures him to you even more.

from talking to you during class, he'd bring the conversations outside of class. of course, he'd always carry the conversation while you were trying to beat a really hard boss in your rpgs. he'd cheer you on while he had no idea what was going on–and even the rest of the third years were worried oikawa had some ulterior motives with you, but when they saw how different that usually plastic smile of his was whenever he'd look at you, talk to you, try to get closer with you... it was like there was something out of place there, that got replaced with something purer.

shocking, they know.

"alright, out with it." iwaizumi spat out, hitting oikawa lightly on the shoulder. oikawa looked at iwaizumi curiously. "out with what, iwa-chan?" "are you stupid? you know you can't make her a victim of your charms." when iwaizumi said that, he knew exactly who the her he was referring to was. it was you.

oikawa looked at iwaizumi all pouty, his eyebrows furrowed. "how low do you think of me? i'm not charming her for anything malicious..." "so you're admitting you are making her like you." "i-i never said that!" oikawa retorted, his face getting redder and hotter, his voice getting higher as he was on the brink of admitting the truth.

iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "so why are you doing this, it's clear she has no interest in you." oikawa couldn't argue with iwaizumi's statement, it was true, you didn't look like you had fully trusted oikawa, and that hurt him to a degree nobody, not even he could bear.

"...because i like her. and i want her to trust me." oikawa muttered, looking away from iwaizumi. it was hard for him to admit, but there was no other way to express it without getting totally crushed by his own half truths and half lies. this was the whole, unadulterated truth–tooru oikawa, the great king of the court, liked you.

he liked the way you got flustered whenever your favorite character would say they love you, he liked the way you glared at him when you'd catch on to his flirting, he liked the way you were so knowledgeable on such nerdy things that... he had watched all your favorite movies and animes, and was planning to gift you merch this coming holiday season.

"...well, you have a lot of work to do to prove to her you like her." "no kidding..." oikawa replied with a sigh, at least his best friend supported his crush on you. he knew it might take a while, a very long while–maybe a whole lifetime to prove how much he loved you. but he'd prove it to you, somehow, and he won't ever stop until he shows his little nerdy girl just how much he's serious about her; how much he loves you.

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wilyserpentofeden · 1 year ago

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Highlights of ComicCon include but are not limited to:

-A Bildad the Shuhite cosplayer who showed off a long scroll "permit" signed by David Tennant and gave me a ribbon for my badge that says "I was cobbled/midwifed by Bildad the Shuhite". This same Bildad screamed in response to being given one of my snakes and said "I have lizards!" but I think the lizards were in a backpack somewhere so I didn't end up getting one, which is just as well because I'm sure Job wanted them back.

-An Aziraphale cosplayer who gave me a "missing snake" poster with Crowley on it, and the three subsequent people who showed me copies of the poster after being instructed to show it to any Crowley they saw. This Aziraphale's response to receiving one of my snakes was "Have I finally found him...?"

-The James Long For Jim Short For Gabriel cosplayer with a tartan toga, a cardboard box, and a matchbox with a little fly in it. He was very cool and he let me and my girlfriend re-create the "minor miracle" shot with him

-The person who asked for a photo of me and my girlfriend and then just casually slid friendship bracelets onto both of our wrists, hers said "oh Lord, heal this bike" and mine said "Vavoom" which happens to be one of my favorite s2 Crowley quotes

-The Aziraphale and Crowley cosplayers with huge wings that gave me and my girlfriend stickers of Blackbeard and Crowley as drinking buddies

-The 60s Ineffable Wives cosplayers! You were doing the Lord's... Satan's... well, somebody's work, anyway!

-Me amusing myself and no one else by joking that my feet hurt because I was walking on "comic-con-secrated ground". I made this joke at least three times

-The other Aziraphales and Crowleys that did the "Spiderman pointing at himself" meme with me and my girlfriend

-My good friends Tanya and Kassidy who were very patiently taking photos while my girlfriend and I re-created The Kiss. After the fact my girlfriend was like "that was the most violent kiss I've ever experienced in my life" and I was like "sorry if I hurt you but you saw the scene that was NOT a gentle kiss!"

-The Beelzebub cosplayer who, in return for one of my snakes, attempted to give me a fly that was intended for a Jim/Gabriel cosplayer. It was the sweetest thing ever but I gave it back in hopes that they'd find the Jim I saw earlier, and because, let's be real, Crowley would not take good care of that fly.

#@ all the ppl here if you see yourself mentioned pls let me know so I can follow you!#comiccon #good omens #gos2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens cosplay #bildad the shuhite #jim good omens #crowley cosplay #aziraphale cosplay #beelzebub cosplay #angel

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lilacgaby · 4 months ago

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day two

~1.5k

chapter select!

what the hell did katsuki think she had?

if anyone ever told her they have crazy issues, woman or not, she'd get a restraining order.

and the worst part:

she really wanted her volume of maid-sama back.

she had barely slept the night before, she decided to take the day off of school, because she couldn't promise denki would walk off scott-free if she was left alone with him.

she relaxed in her room, deciding to catch up on fruits basket while snacking on some pocky.

maybe she should just stay holed up in her dorm for the whole week? no, the make up work would put her seriously behind. and nobody except katsuki was a good enough student to help her catch up.

she screamed into a pillow, when suddenly she heard a knock at the door.

what? but it's literally already ten? schools been on for an hour. [name] pondered.

she walked on over to the door, and to her horror-

katsuki was there, holding a plastic bag filled with candy and snacks from what she could see, all the volumes of maid-sama he'd lent from her, and boba.

"uh-- what're you doing here katsuki?"

"heard about your problems."

[name] felt her face flush, great.

"oh, yeah those. y'know hormones and stuff--"

"are you not gonna let me in? i took my day off to bless you with my presence."

"i didn't know you wanted to be let in. if i did i would've welcomed you with my arms wide-open."

...

"what?"

"uh.. just come in."

[name] facepalmed as katsuki walked right in, setting the volumes on her shelf right below her figures and posters.

she tried to act casual, resuming her spot on her bed as she patted the spot next to her.

katsuki handed her his bag of gifts. if it were any other day she'd squeal in happiness. but the close proximity between them set a pit of dread in her stomach.

she really didn't want to mess up the relationship between them, so she hoped she could just keep her mouth shut.

"i'm not gonna ask what your problems are, it's probably some shit i wouldn't get. so wipe that look off your face."

oh. right.

"yeah, yeah, got it. wow, your bedside manner is pretty lacking katsuki."

"yeah, whatever."

"why'd you take a day off just for me anyways? am i special to you or something?"

she took the opportunity to jokingly cling to his arm, and adorned a smug look on her face.

"no. and take that dumbass look off your face."

"really? did you come so late because you went to the store just for me?"

"..."

"huh? huh?"

"i'm leaving."

he said, as he pulled his arm away from her clutches and stood up.

"wait no! i was just joking! come back!"

"what? do you want me here or something?"

"yes."

"oh. uh.." he wasn't expecting her to actually answer so straightforwardly, she could even see the tips of his ears turning pink. she would've been embarrassed too if she hadn't gotten used to the quirk already.

her ego was at an all time high as she clocked it. she was flustering him.

"no way. don't tell me you like me or something katsuki."

she swore she could see steam coming out his ears.

"wait i'm sorry! don't leave please! i was just joking!"

he grunted and sat back down. this time a bit further away from her. he still didn't look at her, the reason being unbeknownst to her.

but for him, it was actually because his heart was pounding like crazy.

she decided not to push it further, she wanted him to stay with her for at least a little bit.

she opened the plastic bag to be greeted with her favorite snacks.

he remembered.

it was surprising to her that he did, she had only told him once before what her favorites were, and that was only because of the class's secret santa back as first years.

she smiled warmly before opening the bag and offering him some chips.

he accepted and they had set into a comfortable silence.

she finally got bored of it though, and broke it.

"so, did you finish the next volume yet?"

"yeah i did, i really thought misa would've transferred."

"really? i would've thought you'd know that she'd stay. that was pretty predictable i fear."

"i only thought so because i would've transferred if i was her. the opportunity to go to the best school? i would've took it in a second."

"of course you would."

"the fuck does that mean?!"

their playful banter thankfully didn't spiral into any dangerous territory for [name]. they talked for hours, with katsuki even stealing denki's console to play mario kart on.

after a pretty even game streak, [name] ended up the winner, much to katsuki's despair.

they would've stayed playing for even longer, but katsuki eventually had to go though, unlike her he actually had to eat real food.

"see ya katsuki!"

"yeah, bye."

she had given him four more of her volumes to read. but he had forgotten his chips.

"oh wait katsuki!" she ran up to the door.

"wha-"

just as he turned, she tripped on some invisible force, right into his chest. and tackled them both onto the floor.

they both grunted as they fell.

her face was flush against his. her lips grazing his.

she was now rushing to support herself, and eventually used her two hands, the chips miraculously still in the bag as katsuki laid underneath her. she was pinning him down.

"oh, uh-"

they had matching rapid heart beats.

"i'll just um-"

do something coward!

"get off now."

loser.

"wait."

"huh?"

"uh.. i need-- fuck.

i need--"

"[name] and bakugo are totally making out right now!" mina called from down the hall.

everyone had just come back from school.

[name] and bakugo scrambled to get up, he shoved the manga in her hands, helped her up, and then stormed to the boys side of the dormitory.

mina and the girls eyed her knowingly.

"i don't wanna talk about it!"

・°☆

but talk about it she had to.

at eight-o-clock sharp they bursted into the room, now with a couple new faces.

jirou, uraraka, and momo to be exact.

"what the hell guys?! tell the whole class why don't you!"

"come on [n/name]! the more the merrier right?" mina reasoned.

"wrong!"

ignoring her protests, they then proceeded to take out the gigantic chalkboard and rewrite the operation.

"oh, and we already told them what's up with you and bakugo. and the quirk thing." denki said.

"yeah, sorry [name], denki kinda told your secret to us at lunch today." jirou added.

"goddamnnit denki!"

"so you have a crush on bakugo? why?" uraraka asked.

[name]'s heart almost burst out of her chest as she was forced to respond. "well he's cute, and he's seriously dedicated. i like his passion, his eyes, everything about him basically."

"aw! you're so romantic [name]!" momo gushed

"shut up!"

"and explain what you were doing pinning him down in the middle of the hallway earlier! how scandalous--"

"it was an accident! what does that have to do with the operation anyways?"

"huh? oh yeah the operation!"

mina turned back to face the board, the chalk screeched uncomfortably as she added a subsection on the board.

FORCE [NAME] TO CONFESS (after quirk wears off)

"what? hey that's off topic!"

"well, tomorrow and wednesday we have missions with our mentors so we'll be out of school. which means you only have to worry about three more days, which also means we'll have to have these meetings on our phones-"

"i think what she's saying is that we don't really have to do any major strategy changes until thursday." sero cut in, effectively ending mina's rambling.

"oh, hey you're right!"

"so that means we can focus on you and bak--"

"nope, that means this meeting is over! everyone out!"

"what?"

"seriously?!"

"and it was just getting to the fun part!"

everyone collectively groaned as [name] sent them off forcefully.

after kirishima shut the door behind him, she could finally let the secondhand embarrassment from her earlier encounter set in.

it was already ten, so she really needed to head to bed if she wanted to be good for tomorrow when mirko swung by to take her to a mission.

as she threw herself onto her bed, she pondered over katsuki's reaction earlier.

could he really like her back? they technically kissed earlier.

her face felt hot as the realization set in. technically he was her first kiss. and they'd need to talk eventually-

oh well, at least she didn't need to worry about him for two days...

right?

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taglist (comment to be added!): @cc1306 @reads-stuff-quietly

#bakugo #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #mha bakugou #anime fic #anime #fluff #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader

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