#now to see if they fixed the back part of his hair
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bonny-kookoo · 3 days ago
Note
Hey Bonny!! I saw you wanted to play a game, so how does this sound for a drabble? Dragon! Yoongi (or Kookie since I know he's your guy) x Fairy! Reader?? Idk if you've written fairies before, but I know you've done dragons! 💜🤍
I have a dragon kook x fairy reader on my patreon as early access, so I'll make this one yoongi!
-----------------
Yoongi
Hidden in the woods
Tumblr media
Dragons are rather social creatures- but when a young Dragonblood named Yoongi fails to find a partner while all his friends and family have moved way past those events already, he isolates himself, believing he might just be destined to be a loner. But maybe, he was just impatient.
Tags/Warnings: Dragon hybrid!Yoongi, Fairy!Reader, strangers to ???, reader is described as short oops, SFW
Wordcount: 1.6k (it was supposed to be a Drabble... oops)
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
“You rarely visit these days.”
His mothers words still echo in his mind as he tries to find a new composition on his piano that doesn’t sound like everything he’s already put out. Of course he hasn’t visited- with his brother’s twins constantly around, he’s always reminded of how far ahead everyone around him is, while he’s yet to find his first real love. He’s thirty, for god’s sake- and yet all he has is his house, a stable career as a musician, and a lot on his mind.
All his friends are married. Some have kids, others are busy preparing for the day they’ll have them. He feels out of place.
Yoongi has made peace with the fact that he’ll be the uncle to all of them, the one guy who never really seems to be happy about anything, never has a family of his own. It’s alright.
He sighs, loudly, gripping his hair for a second in frustration. This is stupid- why is he having an artist’s block right now of all times? People are waiting for something new, especially after he’s already taken a break to help his creativity. And yet, it did nothing- except for giving him a little bit more room to breathe and most of all move out of his apartment and into his new house near the woods. It’s nice here- about half an hour away from the bustling neon city he’s used to after years of living there, and also a bit more distance from his family and friends. A newfound excuse for when they ask him once more where he’s been.
The doorbell rings, attracting his attention. He’s not awaiting any guests or packages- who could it be?
Via the camera installed he can see that there’s a person he doesn’t know at the door- you're rather short, but visibly curious, looking around for any signs of life inside his home, and for a short moment, he sees them;
Delicate little slightly translucent wings. Pointy ears, tilted a bit downwards.
A fairy.
As he opens the door, you seem startled for a second or two, taking a step back, before you speak. “Oh, hello!” You greet him. “I was just about to ask- do you have uh.. Jungkook’s number?” You wonder, and he becomes hostile, crossing his arms. “A coworker of mine, Jimin, said you have it. I’m sorry I’m just, you know, showing up here like that-”
The door closes. But despite what he was expecting, you just ring the doorbell again- and again, until he opens.
“Okay, as I was trying to explain before you so rudely interrupted me-” You tease a little, arms now crossed as well as your wings flap around a bit. “-tell him at least that I need his help fixing my washing machine. He broke it and left the crime scene for me to find, and that’s, pardon my language-” You lean in a bit as if you’re about to tell Yoongi something secret, “-pretty crappy behavior.”
Yoongi stares you down for a moment, before he speaks.
“That’s it?” He asks, and you nod. “Why don’t you ask Jimin for Jungkook’s number?” He wonders, not entirely convinced. Jungkook is pretty much a magnet for people no matter what gender, and the worst part about it is that many if not most always try and get to him through Yoongi.
No one’s ever interested in him. Only his friends, or the things he can provide.
“Cause Jimin doesn’t have it either!” You whine, stomping your leg on the ground in agony. “Listen, I don’t know how to fix it and my bathroom smells like a laundromat already, my coffee machine is also broken and my script has been rejected for the third time, I really need some good news. Please?” You ask, and Yoongi contemplates.
“What if I fix it?” He asks, and your eyes begin to sparkle, wings lifting to flutter in excitement. It’s like in this very moment, he can hear the keys of his piano chime, creating a new piece in his mind.
“You can?!” You ask, stepping closer.
“Probably. Where do you even live?” He asks, before you point towards the woods.
“I live in the woods, pretty much. It’s not that far.” You say, and Yoongi sighs, looking back inside his house. It’s not like he’s going to get anything done either way, so who cares? It might take his mind off of things for a moment or two-
So a few hours later, he’s in your house, enjoying some hot coffee from your machine, which he’d fixed as well while he was at it. Well, fixed is a strong word- he pretty much just explained how it properly worked to you. It was working just fine- you just lost the manual and couldn’t figure it out on your own.
“I always thought dragons were scarier.” You say suddenly, opening a pack of cookies to put in the middle of your wooden coffee table. “You’re really nice. Tall, and a bit gloomy looking, but very nice.” You say, sitting down on the couch next to him, legs pulled up towards you.
He’s noticed something glittering all over the small house- like sparkling glitter, but much finer, and barely noticeable. Looking closer to his pants, he notices it there as well- and even after a brush with his hand, it sticks to his fingers now.
“Oh- I’m sorry! It keeps getting everywhere, especially now.. Wait- I have like, a plastic thing-” You hurry, getting up to search for something in a drawer close by your TV. “Ah, there!” You say, giving him the lint-roller. “It’s one designed for fairy dust. I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about that..” You say, but for some odd reason, he declines.
“It’s fine.” He denies. “Doesn’t bother me.” he tells you, and again, you look at him like he’s just told you the earth is flat after all.
but it truly doesn’t bother him. It would, technically, if he was anywhere else. But right now, in this moment, he couldn’t be any more indifferent towards the ‘mess’ you leave sticking to his clothes and skin.
As soon as he’s back home, the sight of your sparkling smile is still in his mind, as his feet almost automatically move towards his piano, where he sits down, and presses a record button to play something new. The melody has been stuck on repeat in his head the entire way back home through the thick snow, like his imagination was finally finding color again.
But it’s different from what he usually creates.
This piece is playful almost, intriguing. It’s a little hesitant, like someone holding back a thought itself just to not indulge too much in a fantasy they’re already creating in their mind. Fluttering notes interrupt these parts however, sneaking in with excitement and curiosity, trying their best to convince the player to let themselves go.
And Yoongi does, as he finishes the piece, and leans back in his chair, recording finished before his phone chimes with a message.
“You left your scarf at my place!” Is what you tell him.
“I’ll get it tomorrow.” He texts you back.
“I could make us dinner?” You question.
He contemplates, finger hovering over the virtual keyboard of his phone, before he begins to write his answer. Fluttering touches of his fingers moving with a hint of excitement, fine fairy dust on the skin of his hands shimmering in the setting sun dipping everything in a golden glow.
“I’d love that.”
187 notes · View notes
not-neverland06 · 3 days ago
Text
𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚐
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
Next Part - Hell Hath No Fury Series
Summary: Hosea's meddling has you and Arthur heading into the local town of Valentine. You're on a mission to get some clothes of your own. And Arthur's looking to help some woman named Mary. You don't know who she is, but she must be important for him to leave you all on your own in a strange town for the whole day. One thing is certain, you're not forgiving Mr. Morgan for this anytime soon.
Tumblr media
You feel Arthur’s worried stare boring into the side of your head and let out a heavy sigh. “I am perfectly capable of driving a wagon, Mr. Morgan.” You turn towards him with a frown and his face falls flat. Like he hasn’t just been drilling holes into you for the past five minutes. 
“I know, I know.” His brows furrow and he shoots you a worried look. “Still, you don’t have much experience.”
“Oh,” you huff and glare at him, tugging the reins a little to the right on accident. “Would you calm down?”
“Tree,” he says, eyes darting forward. You shake your head and he rips the reins out of your hand, “Tree, woman!” He doesn’t exactly shout at you, but you still feel like you’re being yelled at. Finally turning forward you see what he was saying. 
“Oops,” you whisper, watching him direct the horses back onto the trail and away from the trees. “Well, it’s not my fault these ridiculous things don’t know not to walk into trees,” you argue, motioning at the horses. 
“Hey,” he chuckles, “don’t blame the horses.” 
You see Hosea lean forward from the back of the wagon. He peers between you both with a smile. “Having fun up here?” He asks you, nodding towards an overbearing Arthur. 
You roll your eyes with a faux pout, “Not really. Arthur here can’t seem to wedge that stick out of his ass.” Arthur turns to glare at you and you nudge his calf with your foot playfully, giving him a sly grin. He fights it, but you see the way the corners of his lips twitch up. 
Hosea glances between you both, something mischievous playing on his face. “What’re you up to?” You ask, suspicion brewing as you practically see a plan forming in his head. 
Hosea sends you a smile that does nothing to assuage your reservations. “Nothing, nothing. Arthur,” he chides, turning towards the man, “let her try for a while.”
Arthur sighs through his nose, you see him glance out the side of his eye at you with a perturbed expression. You don’t know why he’s so adamant about not letting you drive. You only crashed the wagon once and that wasn’t your fault. The horses got spooked by a cougar as you were going down the mountain. Still, he hasn’t let go of it. 
You know he’s not used to denying Hosea, but he takes too long to relent. Just as he’s starting to hand the reins over, the wagon bumps into something. The left side of it flies up, sending you sliding down the bench towards Arthur. His hand shoots out, bracing you so you don’t tip out of the wagon. You can’t help but flush at the feeling of his arm around you, caught off guard by the reaction. 
You push that down, deciding to address it later. The left side dips down now and the horses come to a bumpy stop. You let out a rough sigh, turning around and glancing behind the wagon. Arthur drove you all into a large rock, knocking the wheel off the wagon. 
You can’t help but bark a laugh at his expense. “Well, Mr. Morgan, looks like I’m not the only one in need of some driving lessons.”
He takes his hat off, running his hands through his hair and glaring at you. “Enough,” he grouses. He jumps down from the bench, walking off to fetch the wheel. Hosea climbs to the front of the wagon, taking a seat beside you. 
“I suppose once he gets that fixed, I should take over.”
You laugh, grinning at Arthur as he props the wagon up. “I think that would be best.”
His head snaps up and he glares at you both, “Shut up, both of ya.” You can’t help but laugh a little harder at his grumpy tone. 
Tumblr media
Mary-Beth helps you set up your few belongings beside the tent alongside the other women’s trunks. You glance over your shoulder, watching Arthur pitch his tent and rifle through his satchel. A part of you is going to miss the solace of having Arthur beside you at night. 
It was comforting, having such a strong man to watch over you while you slept. Especially while you healed. You supposed you were healed now, though, and you didn’t have much more of an excuse to be near him. Not like you did before. 
A part of you is surprised by this sudden attachment to him. You should have seen it coming, though, this sudden onslaught of feelings. It has been so long since you’ve been around any truly decent man. 
Your husband had been good to you at first, but they always are, aren’t they? You hadn’t had some great love story. But you’d been lucky for two people of high status to get along as well as you had. You suppose that success changes every man. For some, they turn into a miser. They want to keep their money as close to their chest as they can. 
Your husband had been the opposite. He’d flaunted his wealth in every way he could. Placed larger bets than was smart. Let people borrow from him and never collected. And then he got into it with some bad men who set him down the wrong path. They made it so he was their cash cow, milking him for what he was worth and turning him against you all the same. They couldn’t risk any words of wisdom getting him to think about what he was doing. 
There was no sharp pain in your chest when you thought about your husband lying dead in the snow somewhere. You didn’t want to lay down and weep. You didn’t even miss the ring on your finger. The one that those O’Driscoll bastards had stolen. If you didn’t remember every bad night with him then you could almost pretend that you’d never been married at all. 
Since he had turned down that path, you hadn’t met a man you thought was worth knowing. Until Arthur. He could say what he wanted about himself, but you’d never had a man treat you as gently as he has. Maybe it’s creating some warped sense of admiration. It could explain the coying urge to want to repay him and be near him at every chance. 
You almost wished you weren’t healed. If only so you could make up an excuse to see him. Now, you’re not sure what you’re going to do. You think he might have only spoken with you because he felt a sense of responsibility towards you. Alive and well, he’s got nothing to say to you. 
“My, I think I see hearts in your eyes.”
Your head snaps up and Mary-Beth grins at you. “Oh,” you catch the teasing glint in her eye and frown. “Hush, you. You’re reading too many of those damn books.”
You help her haul a crate up, pretending to look busy as Miss Grimshaw passes by. “Uh uh,” she argues. “I might fill my head with too many love stories, but I’m no fool. You’ve got it bad.”
Before you can object Tilly walks up. “You talkin’ ‘bout Arthur?”
You frown, brows furrowed as you drop the act of unpacking anything. “How’d you know?”
Mary-Beth and Tilly share a knowing look, both of them giggling slightly. You can’t help but feel like it’s at your expense. “I’ve just never seen a lady so attached to him. Hard to stomach the smell sometimes,” Tilly teases. 
“Hey, he doesn’t smell that bad,” it’s a weak argument and an even worse deflection but it makes them laugh harder. You can’t help but laugh along, cheeks aching with a smile. You’re not too much older than them, having been married to your husband at a young age. You find yourself enjoying the company of women your own age more than you thought you would. 
Someone clears their throat behind you all and you turn around to find a very upset-looking Miss Grimshaw. The three of you straighten up, scrambling for something to fix. It’s not until she shakes her head and walks away that you start cracking up again. Tilly shoots you a look, turning up her nose and mocking the woman. 
You smile, throwing your shoulders back and trying to adopt her haughty walk. It makes Mary-Beth snort so loud that Arthur turns towards you all. He sends you a questioning look and you can’t help but flush, turning around and busying yourself with anything other than him. 
“Knew it,” Mary-Beth whispers behind you as she walks away. You roll your eyes and sigh but you know she’s right. Clearly, you’re feeling something for him. But it feels wrong too. Too fast and too soon for you to be feeling anything but lucky to be alive. 
Tumblr media
A few days later, once you’re all settled and Miss Grimshaw is finally satisfied with the camp’s state, you all gather around the fire. You’re late to join the others, having to change your dress after Uncle spilled whiskey all over the other one. 
You walk towards the glowing firelight and the sounds of Javier strumming lightly on his guitar. He’s not singing yet but you’re sure a few more drinks for everyone and the whole county will hear your hollering. 
You try to find an opening among everyone but most of the seats have already been taken. Just as you go to sit beside Charles, Tilly throws herself down on the log. She doesn’t look at you, just fiddles with the hem of her dress and slurps loudly on her drink. Your eyes narrow suspiciously but you don’t call her out.
Instead, you roam the faces of those around you, seeing a spot beside Sadie. She nods her head at you but before you can go claim it, Hosea grabs her attention. He sits beside her, asking her about some nonsense you can’t hear from where you stand. And just like that, it seems everywhere you look any open spot was gone. Someone either slid over or stole it. It left you with just one place left. 
Arthur looks up from his cup as you approach. “You mind?” You ask, lingering by the log, unsure of whether or not he wants your company. 
He slides over easily, “‘Course not.” You let out a small breath of relief and sit beside him. You don’t know if it’s divine interference or a few nosy campmates, but it feels too coincidental that the only open spot is beside him. 
There are a few moments of stilted silence between you. It might all be in your head. You’ve messed yourself up, putting too much thought into how you feel about him. Now, you don’t even know how to talk to him. You just stare into the fire, and watch the shadows play across the other's faces. 
Arthur’s voice breaks you out of your concentration. “You been feelin’ okay?” 
You’re surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. He really cares and it’s such a strange idea to you- meeting a man so attentive. “I’ve been a little sore from the ride, but nothing too bad.” When you turn towards him you’re surprised to find him already looking at you. 
It’s easy, to just stare into his eyes and pretend it’s just the two of you by the fire. It casts a comforting glow across the both of you, makes the dark night look a little warmer. Eases the chill of the night and lulls you into a place where you finally let the anxiousness that plagues you melt away. 
“How ‘bout you, Arthur, you okay?”
He chuckles quietly, nodding his head and glancing down at his lap. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
The soft way he speaks to you lures you into a false sense of security. You wonder if it would really be so bad to say what you’re thinking. He’s so kind to you, you’re sure even if he doesn’t feel the same he wouldn’t be cruel. 
“Would it be odd if I said I miss bunking with you?” You laugh a little at yourself, trying to downplay just how much you truly mean that.
You seemed to have made a horrible mistake though. Being around the woman of the camp has allowed you the comfort of a loose tongue. Judging by the way his whole body stills and he won’t meet your eyes, you think you might need to tighten it once more. “Oh,” you sigh, rubbing an embarrassed hand down your face. “I’m sorry, forget I said anything.”
“No, no,” Arthur’s quick to stop you. He glances around, making sure no one else is listening. “Nothing wrong with that. I just think,” he pauses and lets out a huff. Your face pinches and you bite your tongue, trying to stop yourself from shouting at him to just spit it out. He sucks in a deep breath and turns to you with a pained look. “There are better men than me out there, Mrs. Rowe. I think you’d be better off goin’ after them.”
“What-” He gets to his feet before you can object. You’d like to tell him what a fool he is. How he’s a perfectly fine man and you can choose well enough for yourself. 
“Good night,” he tilts his hat down, ambling off towards his tent and leaving the warmth of the fire behind. 
You look down at your lap with a frown. “Oh,” you whisper, “You’re such a fool, Arthur Morgan.” You watch him slip into his tent and feel like a stone has replaced your heart. You feel heavy now, wanting nothing more than to sleep the sting of rejection off. You quietly slip away from the fire and head towards the women’s tent. 
You ease onto the rocky ground and pull a blanket over your shoulders. You’d never thought you’d long for the rotted floorboards of that shed in the mountains but you crave that comfort more than ever. 
Tumblr media
Arthur adjusts his hat and steps out of his tent. He adjusts to the bright morning light and finds his gaze drifting toward the tent the other women are sleeping in. You’re not there, your bed roll fussed up like you’d just gotten up. There’s a split second where he worries you might have changed your mind about the outlaw life and left. 
He’s not happy with the stomach-dropping feeling that leaves him with. He shouldn’t care whether or not you stay. Still, he isn’t satisfied until he looks around and sees you sharing some coffee with Hosea. 
He debates walking over to you both when Pearson ambles towards him. “Arthur,” he barks out. He holds a white slip of paper in his hands and you turn away from Hosea to glance back at him. “A woman brought this by for you.”
He tries to wave at you but you whip around when you hear Pearson speak, avoiding meeting his eye. Hosea leans in and whispers something to you, but you just shake your head. His eyes narrow at the two of you, wondering when you got so cozy. 
“Who was it?” Arthur asks. 
“I don’t know,” Pearson grouses, walking off with a shrug. Arthur flips the paper over and sighs. He didn’t even need to ask. He knows this handwriting about as well as he knows his own. Mary. 
He’s not sure he even wants to read this. There’s the chance that he’ll either have to deal with her father again or he’ll just feel the guilt of what she thinks could have been. Sighing, he turns away from you and Hosea. He flips the letter open, skimming it. He’s not ready to dive so deep into the past this morning but it could be urgent. 
Most of it is pretty vague. Brief mentions of her father devolving past the fool he already was and something about her brother needing help. She asks him to meet her in Valentine and he tucks the letter in his satchel. He doubts anything good would come of going to see her. 
Half the time they just have these quiet sort of non-arguments about how he can’t change and how she never gave him the chance to. They keep going back to each other and keep pretending they're different people than they actually are. She has it in her head that he would never abandon this outlaw life for her. And he thinks that she would never be able to truly accept him as he is. 
They go round and around each other endlessly. Never quite meeting in the middle. These occasional meet-ups have just started to feel like a punishment for himself. But there’s a part of him that always feels the need to hear her out, to see her one last time. He hates that part of himself sometimes. 
He turns to head towards the horses when an eager voice stops him. “Oh, Mr. Morgan!” Strauss stands up from his stool, walking over to Arthur with a large black book in his hand. “Just the man I was looking for.” There’s something in his tone that makes Arthur bristle. He has a feeling whatever he’s about to ask for is going to be something he doesn’t like. 
“What?” Arthur’s short with him, never having been a huge fan of the man. He hates that he’s the one Strauss comes to for collections. He understands the necessity of the money for camp. But half the time the people are just desperate families trying to keep a roof over their heads. If Strauss targeted the rich, maybe he wouldn’t mind roughing the debtors up so much. 
“I just need a favor from you. I’ve got some collections that need to be taken. A few reminders to be sent,” he laughs a little. The noise is empty and grates on Arthur’s already frayed nerves. 
“We’ve barely been here a week. You’re tellin’ me you’ve already got lives to ruin?”
Strauss's eyes narrow into slits before he forces on another thin smile. “Mr. Morgan, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the loss our camp funds suffered in Blackwater. We need everything we can get. Surely you understand this is for the good of the camp, yes?”
Arthur lets out a rough sigh. He looks down at the list of people in Strauss’s hand. He knows that he’s always going to choose the gang over anyone else. But it doesn’t make this feel any better. “Fine,” he snaps, snatching the paper from him. 
“Thank you, Mr. Morgan.” Arthur shakes his head, ignoring the smug lilt of Strauss’s accent. He shakes his head and turns away, walking towards the horses.
“-well, Uncle ruined my only other good dress. I’ll need to buy some new ones,” Arthur looks over as you speak to Hosea. You motion sadly to a large brown stain on the front of your dress and he rolls his eyes, thinking of Unlcle spilling something on you. Maybe he could pick something up for you while he’s in town. You’ve got hardly anything to your name, you could at least use a new pair of boots. 
He’s nearly to his horse when Hosea calls him over. Is he going to get anything done today, or does everyone need something for him?
He lets out an irritated sigh and walks back over. You don’t look up at him and that only further sours his mood. “What are you doing?” Hosea asks, the suspicious expression on his face only makes Arthur’s hackles raise further.
“Was gonna head to Valentine but Strauss has got me doin’ collections.” Your eyes lift at the mention of collections and he doesn’t miss the slight grimace that passes across your face before you’re looking away again. 
Something hot boils in the pit of his stomach but he shoves it down, trying to ignore it. Hosea shakes his head, waving him off. “No, I need you to escort Mrs. Rowe to Valentine. Micah will handle the collections,” he tells him firmly, not leaving much room for argument. 
“But-” 
Hosea cuts him off with a frown, “No ‘buts,’ the lady needs some new clothes, Arthur. You can’t let her go into town without a proper escort. Imagine what could happen.”
Your face drops at that. You roll your eyes with a scoff, “I most certainly do not need-”
You trail off, sentence falling short as Hosea shoots you a sharp look. You throw the rest of your coffee into the fire and get to your feet. “Right, well I clearly don’t get much of a say in this.”
“Neither of you do,” Hosea responds. He’s got a look that means he’s far too pleased with himself. Arthur glances over at you, feeling a little guilty at the perturbed expression you wear. He doesn’t blame you for not wanting to spend time with him. He knows he could have been kinder to you last night, but all he’d been thinking about was stopping another situation like Mary from happening. 
“Come on Mr. Morgan,” you call out, walking past him and heading towards the horses. 
Arthur lingers behind for a moment, shooting Hosea a glare. “I’m gettin’ tired of your games, old man,” Arthur grouses before reluctantly following after you. Hosea just laughs, taking a long, pleased, sip of his coffee. 
Arthur turns around and heads towards the hitching posts. You’re already waiting there for him, arms crossed while you examine the horse. “Somethin’ wrong?” You jump slightly, turning around to face Arthur as he walks up. 
Your lips purse and he can tell you’re debating whether or not you want to speak with him. Arthur stops walking, standing just a little ways back and giving you no other choice but to talk. Rolling your eyes, you force the words out. “Your horse is too damn tall.”
Arthur glances between you and the shire, laughing a little under his breath. “Alright, come on.” He comes up in front of you, hovering his hands over your waist until you give him a reluctant little nod. He takes you by the waist and lifts you onto the back of the horse. His hands drift down to your knees, squeezing once before he forces himself to back off. “Comfortable?”
You glare down at him, but he can see a little bit of sheepishness in the look you give him. “Fine as I’ll ever be, sitting like this.”
He swings up on the saddle and glances back at you. “We’ll see if we can’t get you a horse while we’re in town.” Your face lights up at that and it unravels a bit of the knot in his chest. 
“I think I’d like that,” you tell him, turning slightly to wrap your arms around his waist. He does his best to ignore the warmth you provide. But all he can focus on is how soft you feel against him compared to the harshness he deals with every day. He doesn’t say anything else, leading his horse out of camp and heading to town. He doesn’t know what he’s more stressed about, seeing Mary or having you see her. 
He lets out a rough sigh and shakes his head. Women, they’re not worth the damn trouble. 
Tumblr media
The ride into Valentine isn’t too slow, but you know Arthur isn’t going as fast as he wants so that you feel more comfortable on the back of the horse. You’re still getting used to the finicky beasts, not quite having bonded with them like the others in camp. Still, you’d rather swallow your pride and get one of your own than have to keep riding side-saddle like this. 
Sitting on the back of the horse is damn near impossible to get comfortable on. And you know the animals don’t like it any more than you do. You think it’s only making them dislike you more. You adjust yourself again and hear Arthur sigh in front of you. His chest heaves under your grip and you realize just how tight you’ve been squeezing him this whole time. 
“Sorry,” you mutter, undoing your arms and stretching them out. You’re surprised the poor man can still breathe. 
“It’s fine,” he responds, but you can hear the strain in his voice as he finally sucks in a full breath. You grimace, wondering how you’re gonna handle your own horse if you can barely deal with this one. Arthur’s is the least temperamental of the bunch at camp and you still can’t bring yourself to trust it. 
Arthur passes by the train station and you straighten up, a little bit of relief forming when you realize how close you are to finally being able to walk around on your own two feet. Arthur brings the horse to a slower pace, pulling on the reins as townspeople begin to walk by more frequently. 
You’re not sure what you were expecting of the town. It’s certainly not glamorous. But it’s not as backwoods as you had been expecting. The people seem friendly enough, at least to you. They’ll nod their heads with a polite, “Ma’am,” but they don’t seem very warmed to Arthur. 
“You already been through here?” You ask, a little bit of a tease lingering on the edge of your words. 
Arthur stiffens under your grip, tilting his head back towards you before looking forward. “Whaddya mean?”
“I don’t know,” you hum, “these people seem a little wary of you, that’s all.”
Arthur lets out a heavy sigh, “Not my fault,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. “He called me a pretty boy, what was I supposed to do?” You barely catch the words before he brings the horse to a stop and gets down. 
“Pretty boy?” You question, a grin curling at the edge of your lips. His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. 
“Forget it,” he demands. He holds his hand out towards you and you hesitate. You could just jump down, you'll probably roll your ankle, but you could do it. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like how wholly Arthur’s hand envelops yours, even if he’s made it clear he doesn’t think he’s good enough for you. 
You slide your hand into his and he brings his other one up to your waist. He eases you down onto the ground but your boot slips into a bit of mud. You tilt forward, off-kilter, and catch yourself against his chest. 
Your eyes widen when you feel the bulk lurking underneath his tattered shirt. You clear your throat, backing up quickly and straightening out your skirt. Even after a few weeks, you’re still not used to touching another man who’s not your husband. Especially not so brazenly. 
Arthur laughs at your behavior but you see the nervous way he rubs the back of his neck. He ducks his head down, hat blocking his pretty eyes. You know that you have an effect on him. In the same way, a simple touch from him sends heat racing through you, you can see it happen to him. 
You’re not some lovesick fool who’s blinded by your desire. You may be naive when it comes to relationships, but you know want in a man’s eyes when you see it. If only he weren’t so damn stubborn. 
“I’ve got some business to deal with in town,” your face falls as he speaks. You’d almost forgotten about the letter Pearson had brought to him. The one that a woman had dropped off. You hope it’s his aunt or some withered old lady who just needs an outlaw’s help. As unlikely as that is, you still pray for it. 
He reaches into his saddle bag and your eyes double in size as he holds out a holstered revolver. You stare at it, eyes darting between him and the gun. “You know how to shoot don’t ya?”
You scoff in indignation. “I’ve spent my entire adult life in the mountains. Of course, I know how to shoot. But why would I need to?”
He looks amused by your attitude and it only makes you narrow your eyes at him in irritation. “Just take it, would you? You’re traveling with a gang of outlaws, it’s not smart to go around without anythin’ to protect yourself with.” He nudges the gun towards you once more and you snatch it from him. 
You bring it to your side, attaching it to your belt as you chew on his words. You hadn’t thought of that before, mainly because you haven’t left the camp since you made it out of the mountains. But you’re so used to being seen as a lady that you forget you’re now just as much of a criminal as the rest of them. If only by association. 
“Fine,” you relent. 
“Here,” he reaches into his satchel and tugs out a few bills. “Take this, for the dresses or whatever it was ya needed.”
You stare down at the money and shake your head, “Oh, no, Arthur, I couldn't.” He’s already done so much for you and the camp. You don’t feel comfortable taking from him further. But he won’t let it go, he takes your wrist and forces your palm open, placing the money in your hand. 
“You’re not gonna steal the clothes are ya?”
“No, but-”
“‘Nough fussin’, just take it would ya, woman?” You tuck the money in your waistband and glare at him. He’s being awful pushy this morning. 
He grabs the horn of the saddle, pulling himself back up and glancing down at you. “How long am I gonna be expected to look after myself?” 
“Only about an hour, I’ll be back soon enough.”
“You better,” you chide. He only chuckles, tilting his hat towards you before riding off past the shops and towards the houses behind the town. You let out a heavy sigh, fiddling with the money and looking around town. You don’t imagine you’ll find much here, but you figure the general store is probably a good place to start. 
Tumblr media
It isn’t until you’ve bought yourself a few new outfits that you realize just how much money Arthur has given you. You could probably buy two horses with all this. You’re sure Dutch would be irate if he learned Arthur funded your shopping trip and not the camp lockbox. 
You walk out of the general store with your box of goodies tucked under your arm. You hide the rest of your money away in the top of your corset like you’ve seen Karen do before. You look around the shops, trying to spot Arthur’s giant shire hitched somewhere. When you don’t see the horse you frown, deciding to do a quick lap around to see if he’s somewhere else. 
It turns out to be fruitless, despite promising to be back within an hour, you can’t find him anywhere. You figure that his “business” just ran on longer than he thought it would and try and think of a way to pass the time. You debate going to the stables and getting your own horse but it seems rude to just spend his money so cavalierly. 
Besides, you figure you should get his opinion before you commit to one of the erratic creatures. He seems to speak their language. You figure he could help you find one that won’t send you flying if it gets spooked. 
With no other way to pass the time, you take a seat on the bench outside the general store. You pick up a discarded newspaper and figure you’ll just wait for him here. Of course, you only make it about three sentences into a report on a train robbery before you toss the paper to the side. 
You’ve never been very good at waiting. Living the life of a proper lady has left you spoiled and you’re starting to get antsy. Jumping up from the bench you walk around the back of the shop towards the houses Arthur had ridden towards. 
There’s a brief moment of intelligence where you think about the consequences of bugging him. He is an outlaw and for all the manners and grace he’s shown you, you’ve seen the bounty. You know he’s a known criminal and a murderer. Who's to say he won’t get upset at you for interrupting and just shoot you?
Still, the thought of him getting so mad he starts firing off rounds makes you laugh more than it makes you scared. You just can’t picture Arthur in that way. 
It isn’t hard to figure out which house he went to. All you have to look for is the giant black horse grazing in the grass outside. You pick up your pace when you see Diablo roaming in front of a particularly nice house. It’s probably the biggest one around and the most well-kept. You wonder who he could be meeting out here, in Valentine being “rich” doesn’t mean much. 
You notice the front door of the home opening, but you know they can’t see you past the large tree in front of you. You see Arthur first, the brim of his hat, and then his boot as he walks out the door. He turns around, talking to whoever’s inside and shaking his head vehemently. 
You take another step towards them but your foot hovers in the air as the person he’s talking to follows after him. So much for a withered old lady. You feel your stomach drop as the beautiful woman he’s talking to reaches forward and takes his hands in hers. You can’t hear them speaking, but you can see the familiarity in the way they dance around each other. 
She’s got a pleading look on her face and he’s got the expression of a man about to give into whatever she asks of him. You turn around as quick as you can, marching yourself right back to town. You never should have even gone looking for him. One hour or two, you should have just kept your happy ass where it was. At least then you wouldn’t be dealing with the racing thoughts going through your head. 
You had a suspicion that there was once a woman in his life. In fact, it would be odd for there not to be. He’s traveled for so long and he’s so different than other men you met that it wouldn’t make sense for him to have not caught the eye of a pretty woman. But you hadn’t expected her. She seemed so much like…
You. 
She reminded you of yourself before your husband had abandoned you and you started traveling with the gang. Hair done up prim and proper, clothes tailored perfectly to her body. Even the way she carried herself was straight out of the proper lady training book. She most certainly came from money. 
You just didn’t know how Arthur knew her. Or what their relationship was. It certainly wasn’t familial. You knew that much from the longing in her eyes. Oh, this was just awful. Arthur didn’t reject you because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you. He just didn’t want you. He had a woman of his own, of course he did. You feel like such a fool, getting your hopes up over something that could never happen. 
You trudge back into town, heading straight for the saloon. You’ve never had the stomach for alcohol, but you’re sure you can make an exception tonight. Just to ease the blade of hurt wedging itself in your chest. 
You toss your box of clothes on the counter of the bar and the barkeep gives you a startled look. His eyes narrow before he slides a glass over to you. “Looks like you need a whiskey.”
“Make it a double,” you slip him a few more bills than necessary and he whistles. Instead of pouring he just places the bottle in front of you. He leaves you on your lonely end of the counter and scrubs up a drunken spill. 
You use a heavy hand to pour and bring the glass to your lips, ticking your head back and downing as much as you can. The acrid, bog-like taste doesn’t comfort you. But it does make your tongue feel fuzzy and begin to soften the harsh edges of your mind. About a bottle later, you can barely remember Arthur’s name, much less why you’re drinking. 
You’re debating entering a very risky poker game when you see it. Just out of the corner of your eye, a man goes stumbling up the stairs with a whore. It’s not out of the usual, it’s been happening the whole time you’ve been here. But there’s something familiar to you about the back of his head. 
Stumbling to your feet, you rub at your eyes and blink a few times. You squint, trying to make out how you know this man when he finally turns slightly. Like a bucket of cold water being tossed over you, the whiskey seems to leave you for a moment. 
Your husband’s glazed eyes pass over you and he laughs at a drunk man falling face-first to the floor. Your heart pounds so harshly against the cage of your chest you can hear nothing else but your blood rushing. He stumbles the rest of the way up the stairs and you stand there, completely dumbfounded and confused. 
Your husband isn’t just alive. He’s here and he’s about to go fuck a whore like he didn’t leave you for dead.
Tumblr media
Next Part
end. — I do not own the characters or the game Red Dead Redemption 1/2, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
157 notes · View notes
yourcutelittlegayfriend · 2 days ago
Text
✧✦✧ Chapter 3 ✧✦✧
Hello Father, Die
Warning this part contains: Cursing, Hallucinations (Schizophrenia maybe), mentions and descriptions of a noose, Murderous and Violent thoughts, Trauma Triggers (MC's), Dark Themes(not the settings btw) and Typos&Badwriting Combo.
Note: a bit long fic that was supposed to be short, this is more of the relationship between Bruce and MC as well as a special pov from someone after this it'll be short shots with the rest of the family unless-
MASTERLIST Pages ↻ 2 , 4....➣
Now Playing
↻◁ ||▷↺Sucker - Markus King (Arcane) ılıılıılılılıılıılı
✧✦✧✦✧
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧✦✧✦✧
It's suffocating.......
Everything is choking me.....
Death clings to me like my own skin as I walk along the bloody trench I dig by myself.
Every hand from my past and other life reaches out and tugs onto my skin and soul begging for another chance.
but not this time.
My light at the end of this long unwinding tunnel is just beyond reach.
I won't stop until I get what I want, I won't until I get what I deserve.
As the stormy night passes by Gotham, I wake up to my new bed that Alfred prepared me last night.
I begged Alfred to let me stay near him so he gave in and fixed up a guest room near his own quarters, a good decision on my part that's for sure.
A room far away from my old bedroom and a safer one closer to Alfred, a slight change that I hope won't fuck up the reset.
Looking around I observe the barren room and walls, just a few pieces of furniture, a bed, a shelf, and a door to a medium size toilet and bathroom.
'Better get fixed up, We're hungry' they poke my back as I see a towel placed conveniently by the knob of the open bathroom door.
Nodding my head as I hummed in agreement before entering and closing the door.
✦✧✦
Heading out, I quickly trace back my way into the kitchen and see Alfred whipping up something on the marbled counter with a few cups and bowls scattered around yet in an organized and clean manner.
Walking up I stare at the ingredients on what I could guess would be the breakfast for the other one inhabiting this 'house'.
I see them peek out their head from the corner of the counter and poke the bowls pretending to be like a cat while words scribble at the ingredients like 'yummy' or 'bleugh-'
I stood at the ledge since I was back to being my kid size, only my eyes reaching the top of the surface and silently watching Alfred prepare, it didn't take him less than a minute to notice me but I could see him slightly tensing when he look into the corner of his eyes.
'Never the jumpiest in the family before' they say as tilt their head behind Alfred's shoulder as the word 'Jumpy' flashes at the back of the butler's form.
"Good morning, Mr. Alfred". I quietly said to him as I shifted my attention to the whirling electric mixers that were mixing the pancake batter.
"Good morning as well Young Master". He returned my greetings before turning the mixer and properly faced me.
"May I ask hold long have you been waiting there?". He wonders as he picks up the metal bowl and turns to fire up the stove.
"More than 5 minutes, I'm used to waking up early Mr. Alfred". I tell him as I observe him, hearing him hum before I continue to watch him and get lost in my daydream.
'Since I missed meeting Bruce I'd wonder when he'll pop up now' I wondered before a loud scratching record screech on my ear made me wince and the hairs on my neck stood up as I heard them whisper frantically.
'He's here! run run run run run runrunrunrunRUNRUNRUN GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY-!' They scream and yell as their voice pounded on the walls and the shadows swirl around the room I see their polished leather shoes rounding the entryway in the corner of my eye then everything vanishes by the sound of his voice.
"Alfred, Is -oh". I hear him behind me as I watch Alfred side-eye my form before moving his sight to the figure behind me who by the sound of his reaction probably notices me quickly.
"Good morning Master Bruce, Breakfast shall be done in 10 minutes but for now-". He greets him slowly moving towards me and lays a hand on my shoulder.
"I believe you have someone who needs your attention this morning". Alfred finishes -his words making us scoff in my head- as he gently turns me to look at 'him'.
'Traitor' they snarl at Aflred before hiding behind me with a swish 'His Attention? let's see how long that fucking last' they grumble as they wrap their arms around my waist.
Finally looking at him I fought within myself not to jump on his face and slap the daylights out of him-
Many things are scribbled on his face, his whole features are crudely crossed out, large and pointy horns stood above his head longer than the ones on his cowl, a large drawing of a sick grin over his mouth and crosses on his eyes as many things, horrible things floated around him like a halo yet a big fucking 'SUCKER' was written behind his head as I see 'them' perched on his shoulders tying what looks to be a large noose around his neck.
'Hello Father' they giggled before their voice venomously spit out 'Die' as they pulled the rope up and-'
Quickly blinking it away I stare back at him again not saying a thing with a light tired frown on my face, studying his face one more time as I move my eyes to his also tired ones that have a little bit of eyebags under, his wrinkled skin on his forehead and corner of the eye despite being on his younger adult version.
'Guess trauma is a motherfucker'
I look away from him and greet him quietly not wanting to look at him no more longer than a minute.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne" I whispered and stared at Alfred's pants and the marble flooring respectively.
I hear him sigh and feel him lower down to my height as I hear him reply back a greeting.
"Hello and.......who might you be?". He asks as I peek back and see him on one of his knees as he tilts his head.
"-......- " I only stare at him before whispering my name and turn away again but move as far as I can and stand by the other side of the island and hide behind.
I can hear the two adults talk behind me but I ignore them anyway and close my eyes.
'Bruce Wayne, my biological father, my real father, he........I know in myself that he was never a 'bad' father, I knew because he cares about the rest of his ward or adopted children but in all of my life has he never gone through most of those with me'
My hands tremble as I feel them wrap theirs around mine as they whisper to me 'He's a poor sucker, let him go'.
'He wasn't abusive or anything but he never was there for me, it's either he's never enough or I was never enough, All I asked of him was to love me, I never wanted to be a robin or batgirl, I never wanted to be the best, I never wanted to be anything more but his child'
'It's fine, he can kill us again if he wants to' They said as their hands cupped my face and tilted it up I saw their face clearly and their pearly white shark smile widened on their lips.
Because We're already dead inside 
✧✦✧✦✧
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧✦✧✦✧
Hope this ain't that dark
140 notes · View notes
lillypad910 · 2 days ago
Text
Christmas with the Emersons
Eddie Munson x Emerson! Girly! Fem! Reader
Part 2 of Brother's Best Friend!
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, pin, protected sex (follow their example!), a lot of fluff, giggly cuteness, Christmas celebrations, not pre-read, might have errors, Reader is Gareth's little sister
Summary: After 6 months of dating Eddie, you're reminded of the Christmas get together your family throws every year. This time, Eddie is invited- or, "your boyfriend" is, since your family isn't aware of that person being Eddie Munson yet. Will they be excited for you? Or will your brother have something to say about it?
a/n: this took so long and I know its late but shush.
Big thanks to my girl Mare at @munsonsmixtapes for giving me her time to help me wrap this bitch up!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It is December 1st of 1992, the cold air outside leaks through your not-greatly-sealed windows into your apartment. Your heater broke on you last week, and you’ve been waiting for the landlord to send a guy to fix it. Fortunately, your new-ish boyfriend was kind enough to stick around until it’s fixed.
Lounging across the couch, on top of your boyfriend, Eddie, you bury yourself into his chest. He chuckles as your hair spreads across his skin, pulling the blanket that’s wrapped around you both more over your shoulders. “You ok, sweetheart?” He asks, running his fingers through your hair to clear a spot for you to look up at him through.
You do so, blowing air to push a strand he missed out of the way, “No, I’m cold.” You give him a playful glare, not actually meaning it, of course.
“Aww, I’m sorry,” he wraps his arms around you more snuggly, “I know another way to warm you up…” he smirks. Your cheeks flush, slapping your forehead against his chest once again, making him laugh.
To be honest, even though you and Eddie have been dating for 5 months now, since that fateful concert back in June, you haven’t done anything…physical. Besides the heated make out sessions and getting to your underwear before backing out. Thankfully, Eddie is really understanding about it all.
“Not… yet.” You mentally groan out the words, straining your brain.
His lips press to your forehead, smiling softly, “I know, Sweetheart, I was just teasing.” He pulls you closer to him, sitting up in his spot on the couch. He places his finger around your chin pulling you towards him, pressing his lips to yours. You hum into the kiss, still amazed at how you were able to actually start dating your teenage-self’s crush.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. Just as his tongue breaches your lips- your phone rings.
You groan, dropping your head to his shoulder for a second before pushing off of him, yanking the blanket with you. He is yanked off the couch in the process, a soft yelp leaves him as you make your way to the counter where your phone is stationed.
“Hello?” You answer, holding the phone to your ear.
“Hey, Sweetie! It’s Mom!” Your mother’s recognizable voice echos through the speaker, her cheerful attitude as perky as ever.
“Hey, Mom,” you glance at Eddie as his head pops up to look at you as you address who you are talking to, “What’s up?”
“Oh nothing much, just trying to figure out what we are all doing for this year’s Christmas party, you know. Now that Garrett is married, you have a whole new boyfriend none of us have met before, everything’s different.”
You never told your family who you were dating, not even his name. You just said you started seeing someone, and that you promised they would meet him when you brought him home. You didn’t think about the Christmas party your parents host every year when you made that promise. That’s bad planning on your end.
“Oh yeah…” you hesitate, “I honestly kinda forgot, haha…” your mom hums in response.
“I figured as much, but not to worry! I’ve already got your room all ready for you to arrive in two weeks. And when you and that mysterious boy get here, you can help us go pick out a tree, decorate it, help me prep meals and all the goodies for-“
Your mother talks on and on about all the tasks you will have to do when you get there. You like Christmas, you really do, especially when you were still at home and could help your mom prepare everything so early in the month to make sure everything was perfect. “The Emerson Way” as your dad called it, perfection was the only outcome for Christmas. But god, did you just wanna stay home, in your cold apartment with your warm-bodied boyfriend.
“Mom,” you call out to her, and she shushes herself quickly, “let me talk about it with him, ok? I need to be sure he can even come this year.” You explain.
She gasps, “Oh my lord, of course!! I’ll let you go so you can give him a call. I love you!”
“Love you, Mom.” You hang up the phone.
Obviously you are not about to call Eddie Munson’s apartment, so you turn around. “Eds, code red. It’s Christmas.” Eddie looks at you confused, finally lifting himself off the ground.
“Yeah? I know, it’s December.” He chuckles a bit.
“No, Eddie, you don’t get it. It’s Christmas. The Emerson’s Christmas Party?” You gesture to your phone as you watch him blink.
God, you love him but sometimes his brain is ‘head empty, no thoughts’.
“Sweetie,” you step closer to him, placing your hands on the sides of his face. “My family hosts a party every Christmas Eve. I’m a required guest, and now so are you.” It hits him.
“Oh- Oh no.” Eddie hasn’t spoken to your brother, his ex best friend, in six years. At the time they were besties you were a simple 16 year old girl that he never thought of as more than just ‘Gareth’s little sister.’ Now you’re his girlfriend. “Oh I’m dead. Oh sweetheart, he’s gonna kill me.” Eddie hisses in a breath, wrapping his arms around himself. He may have just been cold but you also think it’s because he’s genuinely uncomfortable with this news.
“He’s not gonna kill you, Gareth doesn’t have the heart for that. Besides, Cindy wouldn’t let him even if he tried. Can’t have her husband in jail with a baby on the way.” You let out a soft laugh, trying to joke.
“Eds, I promise it will be fine.” You give his nose a soft kiss. “When do we leave…?” He asks, eyes wide with anticipation. “Two weeks…?” You awkwardly smile. He yelps.
The two weeks fly by fast, and before you know it, it’s December 14th and you’re passing the ‘Wecome to Hawkins’ sign as you cross over the town line.
“Haven’t seen that sign in a while.” Eddie speaks genuinely, it has been 6 years since he was last in Hawkins.
“Oddly enough I’ve seen it more in recent years than I ever did living in Hawkins.” You explain to him, watching the trees pass the car as you come into familiar territory.
Driving up the long driveway of your home you see a familiar car parked outside, your brother’s car. You and Eddie glance at each other, before turning off the car and stepping out onto the pavement into the cold crisp air of Hawkins, Indiana.
You don’t grab your luggage just yet, too nervous to bother with it right now. As you step towards the front door, Eddie follows close after.
It’s weird, he’s always felt welcomed at your house in the past, felt like part of the family. But now he feels like a total stranger, like a bear stepping into a bush with a hidden trap.
You ring the doorbell, rolling back and forth on your heels as you wait impatiently for the bright smile of your mother. “Coming!!” You hear a sing-song voice call out, and you’re both able to get in one final deep breath before the front door opens.
“(Y/n)!” Your mother opens the door, all smiles like usual, pulling you into a hug, “It’s so good to see you, dear!” She pulls away and looks up at Eddie. “Well as I live and breathe!” She smiles at him. “Is that really you, Eddie Munson? My, you’ve grown quite a lot!” She holds up her hand to graze his head before pulling him into a bone crushing hug.
“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie hugs her back.
When she pulls away she smiles happily, “Oh, please, call me Donna, Eddie. I’ve known you since you were a kid! It’s only fair.” She turns back to you after patting his arm. “Sweetie, I thought you said you were bringing your boyfriend? Not that I’m complaining, Eddie Munson is forever a welcome face in this house,” she smiles at him again before facing you once more.
“Mom,” you smile at her, “meet my boyfriend.” You gesture to Eddie beside you. “Eddie.”
Donna Lynn Emerson looks up at Eddie, her smile growing wider before her eyes close and few words leave her breath, “Oh thank you, Jesus.” “What?” You ask. “Sweetie, I love you, you know that,” you mom pats your arm, “but when you told us you weren’t gonna tell us anything about your boyfriend until we met him, we all thought he was gonna be some biker or gang member.”
She turns to Eddie and taps the side of her head, “Parents brains go to the worst outcomes.” “So… you’re not mad…?” You ask, a little shocked by the chill reaction.
“(Y/n), you’ve had a crush on this boy since you were 14. You’re living the teenage girl dream, Sweetie, I don’t judge.” She smiles at you, “Besides, It’s Eddie. I know his Uncle, knew his dad, his mom, shit I knew this kid’s grandma on both sides.” She laughs to herself.
“But we are four years apart…? That doesn’t concern you?” Your mom’s face go dead serious, making the both of you jump at the sudden change in expression.
“Sweetie, I’m 7 years younger than your dad, and we married when I was 19. You’re a 22 year old woman who can make her own choices.”
“Anyways!! Come in!! Get out of the cold!” She drags you both into the house.
Stepping into the familiar entry way, you take off your coats and shoes, sitting them by the door and respectable hooks. You mother leads you both into the kitchen, where you are met with a very familiar face.
“Cindy!” You smile and run up to the girl, throwing your arms around her. “(Y/n)!! Hi!” Cindy laughs and pulls you to her, but you be careful not to squish her too hard on her belly.
Gareth and Cindy got married nearly two years ago now during February of 1991. They met 5 years ago when Gareth moved away for college. You will never forget that Christmas of 1988 when you met her, been friends ever since. You honestly questioned who side you would be on if they divorced. You love your brother, but it’s Cindy.
“How have you been? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to call you last week, life got a little hectic.” She laughs running her hand over her baby bump.
“I’ve been good! And no worries! My heater broke a couple weeks ago so I’ve been just shivering in the cold since then, honestly this might be my vacation.” You laugh a bit.
She giggles before turning her attention to Eddie, “This must be the guy!!” She holds out her hand to him, “So lovely to finally meet you! (Y/n) never told us your name so I apologize for the awkwardness of the family.”
Eddie shakes her hand, smiling at her, “oh it’s fine, I actually-”
“Munson?” A voice comes from behind you all and Cindy tilts her head.
You both turn around and there in the door way is your dear brother. “Shit. Holly shit!” Gareth, as if reverting back to 17 practically tackles his old friend. “Dude! It’s been what? Almost seven years? Where the fuck did you go?” He pulls away, smacking his old friend’s arm.
Eddie looks like a relief was weighed off him, “I needed to get out of town, moved to Indianapolis, been living there ever since, though I’ve actually gone on tour a few times now.” Eddie snickers and Gareth chuckles.
“Yeah, no shit! Jeff and I found out there was a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’ and nearly fainted!” He turns to his wife who smiles at him. “Oh! Eddie,” Gareth squeezes through the two of you, wrapping his arms around the woman your age, “meet Cindy. She’s my wife.” He’s practically glowing when sharing this knowledge.
Eddie tilts towards you and not even bothering to whisper goes, “I see why you say they are meant for each other.” You snicker and Gareth glares at you.
A moment of laughter washes over all of you though, but Gareth stops first, “so, why are you here, man? Not that I’m complaining, just-“
“Oh!” Eddie, blissfully innocent Eddie, smiles at his old best friend before throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I’m (y/n)’s mystery boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” As if clockwork, Gareth’s arms drop from his wife, his smile drops, and he stares at Eddie.
“I’m sorry,” he glances at you before looking back at the tall guy, “repeat that?”
“Eds-“ you go to press your arm against him.
“I’m her boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” Eddie chuckles a bit, obviously more nervous than the first time he said it.
“You son of a-“ Gareth doesn’t even finish before tackling him, arm wrapped around his neck, locking him in a choke hold. Eddie flails around like a fish out of water, “I told you she’s off limits! When the fuck in all those years did I stutter!”
Gareth bumps into everything almost knocking over Grandma’s vase before, “Gareth!” The entire house goes silent. Your mother, the sweet woman that she is, struts into the kitchen and practically rips your brother off your boyfriend. “Eddie, dear, are you ok?”
“Him!?” Gareth yells, utterly shocked.
“Yes, Gareth! Him!” She glared at him, making your brother’s back go pencil straight.
Gotta hand it to Mom, she’s a sweet one, but god damn you don’t wanna be in the cross fire of her glare.
“I’m ok, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, “kinda deserves that honestly.” He lets out a chuckle.
“I’m sorry,” you step forward, turning towards the nitwit you call a brother. “Off limits?”
“Oh,” Gareth hesitates, “I made the guys promise to never date you. I know them, trust me you don’t wanna know everything about them.” You gesture to Eddie.
“Kinda been living under the same roof with this one for a good few weeks now, trust me what ever you know, I know.” Eddie blushes covering his face in his hands.
“Sweetheart, no…” He knew what Gareth was meaning, and god knows you have not discovered yet.
“What?” You question.
“I hate to ask, but if I don’t it’s gonna bother me,” Gareth takes a deep breath, “Have you two-“
“no!” You speak a little too quickly for everyone in the room, “no… not- oh my god, Gareth. Why are you like this?” You hold your head in your hands.
Gareth raises his hands up defensively. “Sorry.”
It doesn’t take long for everyone to get comfortable again. Gareth takes Eddie out to the garage with your dad and talks, you, your mom, and Cindy all stand around the kitchen, helping your mom do some Christmas baking.
“So,” your mom smiles at you, “Where did you meet Eddie again? He mentioned living in Indianapolis?” You roll the rolling pin over the homemade cookie dough on the counter, pressing it flat.
“Steph had tickets to his show, though I didn’t know it was his show when she invited us.” You explain, checking the width of the flattened dough.
“That’s fun! Did you meet him during the show?”
“Half time, and then met up with him again after. Jenny was there too.”
“How is Jenny? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Your mother changes the subject.
“Good, she’s dating this new guy, I’ve met him once. He’s cool.”
“Good for her.” Your mother smiles.
Cindy comes up by you with the container of cookie cutters. You both take a few and start cutting out Christmas shapes from the dough. “It’s good to have you home.” Cindy nudges you with her shoulder, “This town is so boring without you.”
“Aww, thanks, Cindy.” You smile at her.
“Your father has been a pain, claiming he needs to come see you every week. I kept telling him off about it.” Your mother jumps in.
“Gareth too, when you called us and complained about your heating being out, he was about to drive down and come fix it for you.” Cindy chimes in. You giggle at their claims, happy to know your brother and father still want to take care of you even though you’re a good bit away now.
After a little more baking and cookie decorating, the men come back in from the garage, beers empty and ready to eat. Eddie steps over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and hugging you from behind. He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Having fun?” You ask him, smiling at the small kiss.
“Yeah, it’s nice to catch up with your dad and Gareth.” He leans his head against yours.
After you all eat, your mother notices the time, and quickly shoos everyone off to bed. “We need to get up bright and early! Tree shopping isn’t going to do itself!”
You step up to your old room, Eddie close behind you as you open the door. “Whoa,” Eddie mumbles from behind you. You look across the room. It’s the exact same, the pink walls, white carpet, and baby blue bed spread.
“Don’t judge,” you glance back at him before stepping in, dropping your bag - that you finally got from the car - onto the floor.
Eddie steps into the room, glancing around at the pictures you have on your walls. There’s a painting he remembers you painted in art in your Freshman year, the mirror over your dresser, and a ABBA poster taped on your closet door.
As he steps closer to your mirror, he looks over the photos tucked into the frame. Pictures of you and Jenny in middle school, you and Gareth in the yard as little kids, and one more. You and him, a picture Gareth took the night you were at their concert back then. He was smiling at the camera in that picture, his arm thrown over your shoulders.
“That’s cute.” You look over at him, seeing the photo he points to.
“Oh- um, yeah…” you feel your cheeks heating up, looking back down at your bag. Eddie steps closer to you, placing his hand on you cheek and pulling you closer to him. His lips press to your forehead, soft and sweet.
“You’re cute,” his words are simple but to the point. “You make it hard to forget,” you let out a soft laugh.
The next morning, you wake in your old bed, the alarm on your night stand ringing out. You press the ‘off’ button before throwing yourself back against the mattress. You look over to where you left your boyfriend last night, but the spot is already empty. Then, the door to your room opens.
Stepping into the dim room, Eddie smiles at you with a mug in hand, “good morning, sweetheart. I brought you some coffee.” He makes his way around the bed as you sit up, before hanging the mug over to you.
Taking it you look down at the contents of the mug. “You didn’t have to do that, Eds, but thank you.”
“Of course!” He crouches down by the bed, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you take your first sip.
“Mm! You’re making my coffee every morning now. This is so good.”
After a semi-slow morning, you come downstairs fully dressed and ready for the day, your family all ready in the kitchen. “Finally, the bear leaves her cave.” Gareth snickers. You roll your eyes at him, “Oh, shut up.”
Your family piles into your mom’s Chevy Suburban. Your dad driving, mom shotgunning, Cindy and you in the middle row, and Eddie and Gareth in the back. The ride is nice, your mom having the Christmas station playing on the radio, with you and Cindy (mostly) perfectly singing every song it plays. Gareth and Eddie banging their hands against the back of your seats to the beat.
After your dad pulls the SUV into the local “Mary’s Trees,” the place everyone in Hawkin’s buys their Christmas trees, you all fumble out of the brick on wheels, Eddie nearly falling out himself. You all are quickly greeted by an associate, one you remember well from high school.
“Welcome, Emerson Family!” Tiffany Fraser, a girl who was on the cheer squad in your high school, smiles and greets your mom and dad with open arms. Her blond hair blown out and curled, perfectly pulled back into a high pony tail. “Coming by a little later this year, but don’t worry, I have some perfect trees to show you!”
Your mother smiles at Tiffany and loops arms with her before letting herself be dragged off, “Please share! I’ve been dying to get decorating!”
It doesn’t take long for your parents and brother to begin to make their way through the forest of Christmas trees for sale. You take this opportunity to fall back and hang with your obviously intrigued boyfriend.
Eddie’s eyes dart all around the area, the subtle glitter in his eye reminds you of childhood wonder. “You doing ok, Eds?” You ask him, stepping into an easy pace with him as you both follow behind your family.
“Hmm?” Eddie’s head snaps to your direction, before getting distracted again, “Yeah, yeah… didn’t realize how many trees would be here. How do you pick just one?”
You blink. What?
“What do you mean?” The question came out a little more harsh than you intended but you were genuinely confused, “have you never been tree shopping before?”
“I mean…” Eddie hesitates.
He had gone with his uncle Wayne once to pick out a tree. Though it was in a box and he had gotten it from one of the few chain stores in Hawkins. It’s a memory he will hold on to forever.
“Once. With Wayne, but it was a fake tree. I didn’t realize people actually bought real trees to decorate.” His eyes glance over the rows and rows of living trees that the farm has on display.
Something about that made you feel weird. You never even thought about that. Eddie grew up in the trailer park down the road with his Uncle Wayne. They wereon the poorer side, not having much money and Eddie mostly wearing hand-me-downs from Wayne until he could buy his own clothes. For some reason you didn't realise how different you two grew up. But suddenly this Christmas tree meant more to you.
"Hey, Mom?" You get your mother's attention, and she turns to you, stopping her conversation with Tiffany.
"Yes, dear?" Her voice is as joyful as always.
“In honor of Eddie joining us this year, can he pick the tree?" You know you're asking for a lot from your family, especially your mother. Donna Lynn loves Christmas. She loves to have full control over it.
"What a great idea!" Her voice seems to go higher, causing people around you to glance over, "Of course! Eddie, please do us the honors of picking out the tree this year!" Eddie glances at you with a look of pure concern. You pat his back lightly and lead him towards the front of the party. "Tiffany, you remember Eddie from high school, right?" Your mother asks her.
You remember Tiffany hated your brother and his friends in high school, and now she was being made to be nice to him.
"I do, nice to see you again, Eddie." Tiffany smiles and you can tell its a bit strained. She continues with, "Let me show you some trees they might like, that way you at least know you did something right..." The second part was mumbled under her breath, but you heard it, and so did Eddie based on his expression.
"What was that?" You ask, quite loudly so your mother looks over, interested. "Hmm?" Tiffany looks over at you, "oh nothing, just speaking to myself, haha." She turns around quickly after getting a weird look from your mother, but luckely no further comment was made.
It takes a while of Tiffany showing the metalhead different trees, him getting your mother's input before he finally decides on a wide 7ft tree. The cielings in your house were taller downstairs so your mom told him it was alright. When you got home, the boys help move the tree into the living room, while your mom, Cindy, and you migrated to the kitchen. The first thing you noticed on the island was the Christmas recipe tin from your Granny.
"Are we making anything tonight?" Cindy asks, situating herself on one of the stools as she opens the tin to go thorugh the recipes. You walk up behind her and lean over her shoulder.
“We can, but it will have to make something that will be fine for the next week." Donna replies, washing her hands at the kitchen sink. "Any ideas?" Cindy looks up to you.
"Maybe the Peanut Brittle? Ohh, or the Buckeye Balls!" You snatch the recipe card for the Reese's-like recipe out of the tin the moment you see it.
Your mother giggles, "You did always like that one... How about this, Cindy and I make the Brittle, and you and Eddie make the Buckeye Balls?" your mother suggests. You smile, excited to finally have the best holidy treat just sitting in the fridge, begging to be eaten by none other than yourself.
Eddie comes in with Gareth and your dad, who both walk straight up to their wifes. "Tree is up and ready to be decorated!" Your father sallutes your mother, making her giggle. He kisses her cheek before stepping over to the fridge and pulling out a coke.
"That tree was heavy..." Eddie steps up to you from behind and sits his chin on your shoulder, "Gareth and I both had to hold it straight while your dad bolted it into the stand, but damn."
You nod, leaning your head onto his, "hmm, now think how my dad feels doing that every year while we were kids, and Gareht didn't start helping until he was thirteen." You glance over at your brother who shuffles through the recipe cards.
"Don't look at me like that." Gareth doesn't even look up at you.
“How do you always know?" You ask, which inclines him to turn to you.
"I can feel the burning rays of your eyes staring straight into my head. You've never been a subtle starer."
You smack your hand to your chest, faking insult. "How dare you! I'm an amazing starer!"
Gareth rolls his eyes before looking at Eddie. "This is who you're settling for?"
Oh now you're insulted. "Hey-!"
"Enough!" Your mother gets your attention, making both you and Gareth look over at her, "I'm stopping that before it even begins... God, behave, both of you." 'Behave' was strained, you'd obviously annoyed her with your sibling banter. "Eddie, (y/n), you two make the Buckeyeballs. Gareth, Cindy, would you two make the Peanut Brittle?"
"Of course!" Cindy gives her award winning smile, but your brother just hums in response. "Thank you."
"Wait, what are you and dad gonna go do?" Gareth asks, his teenage self coming through, and you swear you just experienced some deja vu.
“Mom and I are gonna go sit our asses on the cough. You two know the kitchen and where everything is." Your dad answers for your mom.
"Exactly!" She jumps in with a smile, starting to push him towards the living room. "We're old, Gareth! We need a break!"
"You are not old!" Gareth yells as they go through the arch of the kitchen, "And they are gone..."
“Yup" you respond, not even really shocked about your parents ditching you.
“If we were under fifteen I'd say we might be safe to assume a nother sibling before next year, but-"
"Gareth! Ew!" Cindy interrupts.
"Oh please, you’re pregnant, Cin."
You shake your head at your brother's comeback, “I agree it’s gross, I never wanna think about our parent's sex life." Gareth just shruges.
As the four of you look over your recipe cards and begin to pull out the ingredients you need - or rather, you and Gareth get out everything you need - Cindy sets up some Christmas music to play on the stereo in the kitchen corner, while Eddie helps her pick out the first song. It doesn't take long for Jingle Bell Rock to be echoing through the house.
Gareth hogs the stove, heating up his sugar mixture for the Brittle, bickering back and forth with you because he refuses to let you start melting your semi-sweet chocolate chips. Cindy is prepping the pans for you all to use, linning then each with some parchment paper. Eddie is already mixing up the powder sugar, peanut butter, softened butter, and vanila in a large bowl, aproned up - per your request - so he doesnt get dusts of sugar on his new Metalica shirt.
It takes a while, but soon the goodies are done and you are able to finally take a seat.
You and Eddie take refuge on the couch, him laying across first with you laying over him. Gareth takes your dad’s chair, with Cindy sitting just on the arm.
“Well at least we’ve got it done.” Cindy smiles, brushing some of Gareth’s hair out of his face.
“Yeah, still kinda pissed mom and dad didn’t help. Those bitches.” Gareth glares in the direction of the stairs.
Your parents called it a night about two hours ago, coming in the kitchen to say goodnight to you all before shuffling up the stairs giggling like a couple of high schools. It was a little unnerving if you had to be entirely serious with yourself.
“Oh, let them enjoy themselves. They deserve a break after dealing with you for your entire childhood.” Cindy kisses his forehead, earning herself a scoff from your brother but a few well deserved chuckles from you and Eddie.
“I was not the problem child!” Gareth tries to defend himself, glancing over at you. You can’t even defend yourself before Cindy follows up.
“Yes you were.” She smiles at him, glowing under the soft lamp light. “But hey, at least you have your sibling as your child. We’re gonna have a well behaved kid. Poor (y/n) gets you.” She nuzzles into him a bit.
You have to admit, Cindy and your brother were adorable. They perfectly balanced each other, with his annoying antics and her sweet personality.
“Well,” Cindy stands back up after a few more minutes, “I say it’s bed time! Lord knows your mother will come barging into our rooms in the morning.” She does a quick stretch before taking Gareth’s hand, pulling him up from his spot. “Goodnight you two! Go to bed soon.” Cindy calls out, dragging the (in denial) man-child up the stairs.
“Goodnight!” You and Eddie call back, watching as Gareth mumbles annoyances under his breath to his wife, who just giggles and waves him off.
“They’re an interesting pair.” Eddie smiles to himself, his arms gripping a bit tighter around your waist.
“They are. But they’re cute.” You express, leaning your head back on his chest. Eddie hums.
His eyes roam down to you as you lay there over him. Your fingers drum over his, playing with his rings, the metal cold to the touch. He cant help but feel a warmth rise in him at the sight of you, the little bit of chocolate still on the corners of your mouth from licking the spoon from your kitchen adventure.
You abruptly turn around, sitting up and straddling his lap, your knees now placed on the outer sides of his thighs. He feels his heart pick up, suddenly nervous as you face him, a soft smile on your lips.
“We should probably go too-“ you’re cut off when Eddie’s lips press to yours. You gasp, caught off guard by the suddenness. His hands press to your hips, dragging you closer to him. Eddie kisses you deeply, before kissing the corners of your mouth, then down your jaw and neck. You can’t help the soft moan that leaves you.
“Eddie-“ you try but your voice catches in your throat when you feel the bulge of his pants as he tries to press you to him. Heat floods your face, suddenly embarrassed. You press your hands to his shoulders, softly pushing at him, which he relents immediately.
“Sorry, just… got carried away.” Eddie mumbles, a bit breathless from the kisses he was giving. “I was just watching you in there and I kept wanting to- ugh.” Eddie runs one hand through his long hair, pushing the strands back. “I know we’ve agreed that we would wait until you’re ready… I didn’t mean to push… just-“
You cut him off, pressing your lips to his again, earning a soft groan from him that ignites something in you. He gently places his hands back on your waist, respecting the boundaries you had originally placed. You pull away just a bit, both of you with your cheeks flushed.
“Eddie,” you call out to him, his chocolate brown eyes stare deep into you. “I-“ you hesitate, feeling your legs twitch as his thumb rubs circles into your hip, “I’d like to…” you glance away from him, embarrassed to say more, but Eddie understands your words.
He leans forward, placing soft kisses on your temple and cheek before you feel his hot breath on your ear. “How about we head out for a bit?”
You both slowly make your way upstairs to your room, but he takes every opportunity to give you little kisses that stops you in your tracks and makes you giggle. When you both make it into your room, you watch him grab his jacket and pull you close for one last gentle kiss.
“Stay here.” He mumbles to you, a simple order that you can’t stop yourself from obeying. You realize you’d probably do anything he asked of you, as long as he pairs it with a soft kiss and that goofy youthful grin you love so much.
“Ok” is all you get out before you watch him exit your room once again, jacket barely on his shoulders as he leaves. You sit on your bed, feeling a little antsy as you wait, your nerves not letting you relax. Then you hear his van start up as he leaves the driveway.
You know he’ll come back. He has to. Eddie wouldn’t ditch you, he’s literally staying here with you. He wouldn’t do that… right?
You keep glancing at the clock, time ticking by as you wait for him to return. 10 minutes turns to 20, 20 to 40.
As the old clock on your nightstand is about to hit midnight something hits your window. You nearly jump out of your own skin as your head snaps towards it. Then another.
And another.
Pebbles.
Wait- pebbles?
Getting up from your bed, you go to your window, looking out to see the metal head of your dreams standing down below, the moon light reflects on his eyes as he looks up to see you there. You notice the few tiny rocks still cupped in his hand.
Was he throwing rocks at your window?
You open the glass that separates you from the cold air, instantly getting a chill as you lift it and stick your head out.
“Eddie? Why are you throwing rocks at my window?”
“I wanted to do that right.”
“What-?”
“Lady (y/n) of the house of Emerson, will you do me the honor of giving me your company on this cold night?” Eddie smiles at you, all teeth as if he’s proud of himself.
You can’t help but feel the butterflies flutter through your stomach as you remember the first time he did this, taking you to their concert when you were 16. The context was different then, a boy taking his best friend’s little sister to see their band. But this time you are his damsel, without the distress and needing saving. But his, nonetheless.
“I would be honored to accompany you, Lord Edward of house Munson.” You can’t help but giggle, hoping the blush on your cheeks isn’t noticeable to him. But he notices.
You grab your jacket, slipping out of your window just like you did back then, climbing down the cold sturdy vines that line the outside wall of your house.
He catches you just like he did all those years ago, easing you down to the ground. But this time he gives you a small kiss, cupping your face before taking your hand in his and leading you past the yard of your house. To your surprise you realize he parked down the street, as if trying to not gain suspicion from your family.
He leads you to the passenger side, and you can’t help but giggle as he opens the door for you, bowing down with a dramatic “My lady.”
“Thank you,” you hop into the car, buckling up as he shuts the door for you. He scurries his way around the front of the van and into the driver’s seat of the car.
Although he doesn’t play music, the drive is far from quiet. You two giggle and chat back and forth, and you can’t help but feel comfortable. Eddie has always been someone who has tried to make you feel safe around him, and tonight is no exception.
After about a 20 minute drive, Eddie parks the van. Glancing around you don’t recognize the scenery around you.
“Where are we?” You ask him, looking out the window to see the rows of trees that line your sight.
“Lover’s lake. I… I’ve never actually taken anyone here before, believe it or not. But I know it was a big spot when we were in high school.” You can’t help but feel the warm traces of heat rush up to your cheeks, grazing your skin with the ignites of something unknown.
Lover’s Lake?
“You’ve… never brought anyone here?” You ask, a little shocked at the admission. You know Eddie wasn’t… how do you say… everyone’s cup of tea…? But surely he had his share of girlfriends or at least flings in high school.
“No, I mean… I had… experiences in high school, but never brought anyone here. Mostly it was the bathroom stalls at the Hideout after shows.” Eddie mumbles the last part, blabbering to himself. You know by now he never means to, he just can’t help it when he gets nervous.
“I’ve… never had any experiences.” You respond, giving him a shy smile. He matches your smile before gesturing towards the back of the van.
You hesitate before squeezing through the two seats, shoving yourself into the bed of the van. After an abrupt landing, you glance at the arrangement around you. Pillows, blankets, it’s comfy, warm, a stark contrast to the sharp crisp air outside. When you turn back, Eddie is already next to you, fluffy one of the pillows.
“So… um…” you hesitate, nervous for the eventual activities that will happen. “How do we start…”
“Well, we can just kiss for a bit first, and slowly lead into it.” Eddie scoots a little closer to you, his body heat radiating off of him, covering you in a warmth of anticipation.
He leans closer to you, placing his fingers under your chin, tilting you to face him. Eddie’s lips press to yours in a soft kiss that sends butterflies through you. You lean into it, lifting your hand to his cheek. He pulls away just a bit, leaving you a bit breathless.
“You’re really pretty, I hope you know that.” His voice is deeper than usual, huskier almost. It sends a heat to your core that you’ve never felt before.
Leaning forward again, he kisses you once more, shifting his body so he’s more turned towards you. After a few kisses, it becomes more intense. The once soft kisses turn heated and passionate, your hands cling to his clothes, grabbing at his shirt and jacket.
Your hands glide under the leather fabric, pushing it off his shoulders for him. He doesn’t pull away from you, but he shifts his arms back to allow the coat to fall into the floorboards of the van’s backseat. When the restraints of the added weight are gone, Eddie leans more forward, placing his whole palm on the side of your neck, his fingers long enough to reach into your hairline on your nape, his thumb pushing your jaw upwards.
His kisses feel hot and heavy, almost desperate. He pulls away only to leave a kiss on the corner of your lips before trailing down your jaw and neck, the opposite side of his hand.
You take in a deep breath, suddenly aware of how little oxygen you were getting. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the metal head as he pulls the coat off your shoulders. Your breath hitches when you feel him suck on your neck, a soft moan leaving your lips as your hands grip at his shirt.
“Ed- Eddie-!” You’re trapped, your throat in between his hand and head. You don’t mind it, the feeling of his tongue swiping across your warm skin; the way his free hand grips at your thigh doesn’t go unnoticed either.
After a moment, Eddie pulls back, looking at the masterpiece he has left on your neck, the hickeys slowly turning more red. He leaves a soft kiss on one of the more purple ones, a ping of guilt tugging at him as he does so.
He knows it doesn’t hurt, if anything, he hopes you enjoyed it being left there as much as he did.
Eddie pulls back from you, taking the hem of his shirt in his hands before slipping the cotton fabric over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless a few times by now, mostly before bed or when he gets out of the shower in the mornings after he’s stayed over. But this is different. It feels more intimate.
“Oh…” the sound leaves you before you can realize. You see the little grin that tugs at his lips.
“Oh?” Eddie sits back into some of the pillows, leaning his head against the wall of the van. “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”
You don’t know what came over you. A simple surge of confidence, maybe?
You crawl over to him, climbing into his lap. You watch those warm brown eyes widen a bit, taken aback by your sudden forwardness. But he’s eating it up nonetheless. He’s got you right where he wants you and he intends to make this night perfect for you.
“I love what I see,” you bat your eyelashes at him as your hands move up to the top button of your flannel, unbuttoning it slowly as you make eye contact with Eddie.
“Do you like what you see?” You ask as you do a few more buttons, revealing a light pink lacy bra. Eddie’s eyes dart to it, desperate to see what’s underneath but he’s going to wait until you’re ready.
“Love,” he says, the word slow, like it has more meaning than it should. “But I think you’d look good in nothing at all.”
Together, you unbutton your shirt until it’s open, only your bra on display as Eddie pushes it off your shoulders and it falls behind you.
Eddie gently lies you down on the bed of the van and slowly unhooks your bra as he does so, tossing it to the side as a dramatic leaves his mouth.
“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says as he goes to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down slowly but with force. Once they’re off, he spreads your legs wide, noticing that there’s a wet patch on your underwear and feels himself getting even more hard as he sees how wet he’s gotten you.
He lowers his head down to your cunt and your eyebrows furrow as you try to figure out what he’s doing. He grabs onto the waistband of your panties with his teeth and pulls down slowly, and once they’re off, he pockets them and he spreads your legs even wider, seeing that you’re so wet that your slick has run down your legs.
“W-what are you doing?” You ask, leaning up to see exactly where he’s going.
“Do you trust me?” He asks, his brown eyes going all soft.
“Of course I do,” you nod and he grins wide.
“Then lie back and enjoy the ride, princess,” he winks then moves his face towards one of your thighs, placing his tongue on it and swiping up, wanting to get every last bit of your slick.
He then moves on to the other one, quicker this time as he’s eager to get on with the main event. He places your legs on his shoulders then dives in shamelessly, the only thing on his mind being your pussy and how delicious he knows it is.
His tongue flattens against your slit and he moves it up and down as your hands move to his hair, a sound you’ve never made before escaping your mouth.
It’s a mixture between a moan and a whine and Eddie continues as he likes what he’s hearing. He’s not being precise, the whole thing sloppy as he wants to taste every inch of your cunt, wanting every part of it underneath his tongue.
He doesn’t remember the last time he’s done this as he’s forgotten just how much he enjoys doing it. With you, it’s different. He’s never done anything like this with a virgin, and goddamn is he going to make it memorable for the both of you.
“E-Eddie, oh my god,” you moan loudly, giving Eddie’s hair a yank as you do. This is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and now you’re addicted, wondering just how long you can last.
He pushes his tongue inside you and you tense, the sensation is so foreign, but you like it, love it even as he pushes his tongue inside and out of you swirling it around.
His tongue hits just the right spot and you’re moaning again, this time, your back arching as you do, grabbing onto his hair for dear life.
Your thighs press against the sides of his head as you reach your orgasm, the prettiest moans Eddie’s ever heard falling from your lips. Just when you think it’s over, Eddie pushes your legs back open, going in for seconds, wanting another taste of you as his tongue moves faster, trying to get you to that high again.
He removes his tongue and their replaced with his fingers, pumping them a little slower as his mouth goes for your clit, his tongue doing most of the work as he licks and sucks, taking his time with it.
“Eddie, fuck,” you whine and he goes in with his teeth, biting down with just enough pressure to get you to make that pretty sound again. “Yeah, just like that,” you tell him and he does it again, harder this time as his fingers move just a little faster, just enough to overstimulate you.
Another orgasm courses through you, but Eddie’s not quite finished. He just needs one more taste and he’ll be good. He swirls his tongue around your clit one more them then removes his fingers, leaning up to make eye contact with you as he puts his fingers into his mouth, giving them a suck before removing them with a loud pop.
Once you’ve come down, Eddie leans over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips then leans back as you whine for more.
“Sorry, did you need something?” He asks, his tone nothing but teasing. “I just gave you your first and second orgasm and now you’re whining for kisses? I really have created a monster.”
“Eddie, please,” you beg with a roll of your eyes.
“Let’s not get greedy now, baby. Or else I might have to punish you.”
“Punish me, how?” You ask, genuinely curious, wanting to know what he’s referring to, wondering if he’ll give an example.
“I’ll show you next time,” he says as he goes to unbutton his own pants and as soon as they’re off, you see the outline of his cock through his underwear. He takes them off slowly and you’re unsure what to make of it. Sure, you had maybe seen one in a movie or two, but never in real life and never this close.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, removing a condom from it and he tosses his wallet behind him, the whole thing completely abandoned for the beautiful woman in front of him.
He removes his underwear and removes the condom from the packet before rolling it on. He then takes no time to spread your legs again, slowly inserting himself, little by little so you can get used to the feeling. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, especially not for your first time.
He watches you wince as he moves inside, understanding that this is something that you’ve never done and he’ll go as slow as he needs to. As long as you’re comfortable, he’s happy.
“Is this okay?” He asks, looking down at you, then where you’re connected, seeing that he’s only put so little of himself inside.
“It’s good,” you nod. “It’s good. You can do a little more.”
He does as you say then begins to pump, the slowest and most gentle he’s ever done, watching your face the whole time to make sure that you’re okay. You’re moaning already so he takes that as a good sign.
He picks up the pace ever so slightly and you’re eating it up, moaning and whining as you grab onto his back, burying your face into his neck because you can’t handle him looking at you so intently anymore.
“You’re doing so good, angel,” he says his thrusts pick up just a little more. “Make some more of those pretty sounds for me, hm?” He asks as his arms moved underneath you, pulling your chest to his. He just wants to hold you while you share this intimate moment.
He’s enjoying it, but a part of him wants to fuck you until you can’t walk the next morning. He knows you can take it all and he wants to try and see how much will fit as he fucks you so hard that the van will shake.
But he can’t. He won’t, because this is your first time and he wants to make it special for you. He didn’t get that for his so it’s even more important that makes this something you remember fondly for the rest of your life.
He picks up the pace just a little more and he can tell you’re almost there, just one more push and-
“I love you,” is what comes out of your mouth and everything freezes. You both pause, unsure what the next move is and now you’re panicking that you’ve done something wrong as he stares down at you, his mouth wide open in shock.
Without a word, he’s pounding into you with so much force that you feel your brain turn to mush. You’re goo in his arms and all you can do is clench around him, wondering where this Eddie has been the entire night.
You’d never tell him, but this was what you had been wanting from the very beginning. It was sweet that he was trying to be accommodating, but you know Eddie well enough that he’s never been the kind of guy to “make love”. The kind that’s sweet and gentle, filled with murmurs of sweet nothings and soft touches.
“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you say again and Eddie’s going even harder now, making your back arch.
Without a warning, Eddie’s hand wraps around your neck squeezing tightly and you can slowly feel yourself being unable to breathe. He’s unsure at first if you like it, but feeling your cunt clench around his cock, he’s sure.
He holds you there, wishing so badly he had a camera to capture this moment, something just for him to look at when he needed a little encouragement.
Just when he thinks you’re going to pass out, he lets up, his hand favoring your thigh as he knows he can squeeze it as much as he wants and he not so secretly, desperately wants to leaves marks all over your body. And he intends to.
His fingers dig into your thigh as he sees you reaching another high, spreading your legs even wider so he can get all of himself in for one last thrust. He watches you as the last few inches are in, your bodies now fully connected, and now he just wants to see how long you can hold out as you’re riding your orgasm.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” you moan as your nails scratch down his back, already feeling fucked out, but you can’t give up now, not when it’s gotten so good.
You’re almost drunk when Eddie pulls out and lets you come down from your orgasm as his lips press to your collarbone, nothing but gentle kisses all along it, light nibbles before he’s leaving straight up hickeys wherever he can, wanting to mark up your body so you know exactly who it belongs to. Even though he’s pretty sure you already know.
Once he’s done, he lies back on the floor of the van, pulling you with him as he covers the two of you up with a random blanket he had lying back there.
his hands run through your hair as he hums a song you’re not familiar with, the only thing on your mind now is that you told him that you loved him, during sex. You feel so embarrassed that you don’t think you can look him in the eye again. Especially not after he didn’t say it back.
“You-“ you try to say, but cut yourself off. “You never responded.”
“To what?” He asks, his voice soft as he tries his best to look down at you, his hand still combing through your hair.
“To me telling you that you love me.” You sit up, now looking at him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Oh god, you don’t love me do you? Just say it, I can handle it.” But as you’re speaking, you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to see how he’s looking at you.
“Hey,” he says softly, as if he’s speaking to a spooked animal. “Hey,” this time a little more rough as he pulls your hand away from your face. “I love you,” he says, looking you dead in the eyes as he presses a kiss to your wrist. “I love you,” he repeats, going for your other wrist.
He then takes your face in his hands and presses his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, pouring every single bit of love for you he has into it.
“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling you to his chest, holding you there so you can hear his heart, the thing that only beats for you.
The sun is already up when you get back to your house, both you and Eddie gliggle amongst yourselves as you enter the front door. Eddie presses a kiss to your kiss bitten lips, getting a little handsy as they slide up your shirt. Just as he goes to unhook your bra once again, a lamp flicks on and the two of you jump away from each other, Eddie accidentally biting your bottom lip in the process. Eddie's cheeks go pink and you press your fingers to your bottom lip as you turn to see your mother sitting in her favorite chair, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
She's dressed in her robe, her legs crossed with a book in her lap. It's not uncommon for her to be up early in the morning, but something is off about this time. It's almost as if she was waiting up for you. And the way she crosses her arms over her chest, it's obvious that she was. You don't know why you're embarrassed now at the state of both of you and Eddie. Your clothes are all rumpled and Eddie's hair is an absolute mess, lipstick smeared across his neck, accompanied by a very prominent hickey.
"What were you two doing out all night?" She asks and her tone is nothing but teasing. The three of you know exactly where you were and what you were up to and it almost seems like she's trying to embarrass you in front of Eddie.
"We were out." You're being vague because this isn't exactly something you want to talk to your mother about, especially not in front of your boyfriend who already looks embarrassed even though he'd never admit that he was. You just wish she'd drop it and let you go upstairs.
"You don't have to hide what the two of you were up to. You're adults now and you shouldn't feel like you need to sneak around me. I would have just been nice to know where you were." You're fully expecting a lecture about letting her know when you leave the house, but she suprises you when she says, "Now go get into your pajamas before the others come down," she nods towards the direction of the stairs. “We're doing presents soon and our special guest will be here any minute."
You and Eddie make a beeline for the stairs and head to your shared room. Everything is silent between you as Eddie closes the door, the two of you finally alone again. You're both getting into your matching pajamas that your mother had bought for everyone and you can't help but smile at him as he's completely oblivious to you staring at him.
You never thought you'd be here with him like this. You fully expected to spend the rest of your life dreading any and all holidays you had to spend with the Munsons' because then you'd have to see Eddie's husband or wife and be nothing but jealous the whole time. You honestly never thought that your feelings for him would be reciprocated. But here you are now, more in love than ever and the two of you were very much looking forward to the future.
You head twards the door but Eddie stops you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. You look up into those honey brown eyes and they're nothing but soft as he hands you a black velvet box with his free hand.
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he says as he squeezes your shoulder and you sit on the bed to open the box.
He's smiling now, so excited for you to see what's inside. He's honestly glad you're not looking at him because he’s grinning like an idiot as he watches you open the box, a gasp escaping your mouth as you do so. You remove the necklace from the box, your initals sitting pretty together on the chain as you hold it up to the light.
"Eddie," you say. "It's beautiful. I love it. Help me put it on?" You hand it to him and move your hair out of the way. Eddie lowers the chain onto your neck and attatches the end to the clasp before pressing a kiss to your neck. You let your hair down then turn to Eddie to show him what it looks like on.
"What do you think?" You ask and just by looking at him, that soft, loving look in his eyes, you already know what he's going to know what he's going to say.
"You look beautiful, baby," he gestures for you to come closer. You lean in and your lips find each other, a brief kiss before you pull away, reaching into your bag for your gift for Eddie. The two of you seem to have thought alike because you're handing him a velvet ring box.
Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as he opens up the box, that stupid smirk on his lips as he takes the ring out of the box. It looks like a wedding band and it has the date of his concert where you had ran into him again engraved on the inside. His silence is making you nervous and now you're beginning to second guess yourself.
Eddie's not silent because he doesn't like your gift, he's silent because this is easily the best gift he's ever recieved. All of his past relationships have been nothing but shit and he thinks you're it for him. It warms his heart knowing that you feel the same.
"Is this a promise ring?" He asks as he puts the ring on the correct finger. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. You could propose to him right now and he'd say yes. That's how far gone he is for you. He loves you with everything that he is and wants to do exactly that until he takes his last breath.
"Yes," you nod. "I love you, Eddie, and I know we're not ready to take that step yet, so this is just a placeholder. So all of those women you meet on tour know that you're mine."
"You're always jealous, aren't you?" He laughs. "I'm yours and will continue to be yours as long as you'll have me."
With that, Eddie kisses you one more time then leads you down the stairs where everyone else is already gathered with the added company of Wayne who just so happened to be the special guest your mother had invited. His eyes lock on yours and he stands from the couch where he was sitting next with Gareth and Cindy. He pulls you into a tight hug, giving your back a few pats before pulling away to ruffle Eddie's hair.
Wayne has been not so secretly rooting for the two ever since the two of you crossed paths again. You are nothing but a great addition to their family and Wayne is always quick to tell you so, always thanking you for taking care of his boy. Seeing the way his nephew's face lights up when he talks to or about you, he can't help but feel his heart swell as that's what he's always wanted for him.
Ever since Gareth and Eddie became friends, Eddie was always welcome into the Emerson household and that invitaion was extended to Wayne as well. You fondly remember having dinner with the two of them as guests, everyone joking and laughing at the dining room table. You'd look at the two of them as they sat side by side, deciding that it was no wonder how Eddie was such a sweet guy when you looked at who raised him.
"Alright," your mother claps her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, why don't we-" her words were cut off by Cindy letting out a groan and as soon as she stood up from the couch, all you see was her leaving a trail of water behind her as Gareth rushes her to the door.
You all hurry out the door to your separate cars to head to the hospital where your niece is about to be born. Thinking about your brother being a dad now fills you with joy, epsspecially with how much he's grown up over the years. There's still a bit of the Gareth you grew up with in there, but for the most part, he behaves differently than he previously had.
You've all grown up, you, Eddie, and Gareth, and you did it together. Well, more like Eddie and Gareth grew up together while you tried to insert yourself into their little club because of your giant crush on Eddie. But now you're apart of it, you, Eddie, Gareth, Cindy, and now the little one who was about to be born.
Thinking about your niece got you thinking about what it would be like to have a baby with Eddie. Maybe one day that dream will be a reality, but until then, you’re going to take this relationship one step at a time. You want to enjoy every second with him.
Tumblr media
Tag list!
@cagethemunson
@spikeybatt
@cherrycolas-things
@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e
@ali-r3n
@thepurplelovewitch
118 notes · View notes
pinkmoontaco · 3 days ago
Text
It all started at a Set || KMG Pt.3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Actor-Idol Mingyu x Actress-Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: This story is a heartwarming slow-burn romance between Mingyu and Y/N, a senior idol. It begins with them being cast as co-stars in a drama where their contrasting personalities—Mingyu’s vibrant, outgoing nature and Y/N’s reserved, composed demeanor—become the catalyst for an unexpected connection. Throughout their journey, they face professional challenges, emotional conflicts, and growing feelings for one another.
Author's note: Please, if possible, leave a small comment it really helps me to write more Part one _ Part two _ Part three
The drama’s success was undeniable, and the cast was invited to a grand success party to celebrate the show's achievements. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and shared memories of the intense but rewarding filming process. Mingyu arrived with his usual charm, his members teasing him about how this was as much a celebration of his growth as an actor as it was for the drama’s success.
Y/N, meanwhile, was standing across the room, engaged in an animated conversation with the second lead, who had also won over fans with his portrayal. Her rare laugh rang out, catching Mingyu’s attention. He found himself watching her, a strange pang in his chest as he noticed how effortlessly the second lead made her smile.
“She looks like she’s enjoying herself,” one of Mingyu’s members commented teasingly, nudging him. “You okay there?”
“I’m fine,” Mingyu replied quickly, though his clenched jaw told a different story. He tried to focus on the celebration, but his gaze kept drifting back to Y/N. The sight of her laughing at another man’s jokes, the ease with which she seemed to connect with him—it was enough to make jealousy bubble up inside him.
Unable to hold himself back, Mingyu walked over, his steps purposeful. “Y/N,” he said, interrupting their conversation. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Y/N looked at him, surprised by the sudden interruption. “Uh, sure,” she said, excusing herself from the second lead.
He led her to a quieter corner of the venue, his heart racing. Before she could ask what was wrong, Mingyu did something completely out of character—he leaned down and kissed her. It was quick, almost fleeting, but it was enough to leave them both breathless. Realizing what he’d done, Mingyu pulled back, his eyes wide with panic.
“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, his cheeks burning. Without waiting for her reaction, he turned and bolted, leaving Y/N standing there, stunned.
Y/N found him later that night on the rooftop of the venue, leaning against the railing, his shoulders tense. She walked up to him, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. “Mingyu, what was that?”
He didn’t turn to face her, keeping his gaze fixed on the city lights. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly.
“Why did you, then?” she pressed, stepping closer. “You don’t get to just kiss me and then run away, Mingyu. Talk to me.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I couldn’t help myself, okay?” he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but every time I see you, every time you smile, I—I just can’t.”
Y/N’s breath hitched at his confession, but before she could say anything, he continued, his tone turning somber. “But it doesn’t matter. I can’t... I can’t do this right now.”
“Why not?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Because my group is at its peak,” he said, finally turning to face her. His eyes were filled with a mixture of longing and regret. “Everything we’ve worked for—it’s all happening now. I can’t let anything distract me from that, not even you.”
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. “So you’re saying I’m a distraction?”
“That’s not what I mean,” he said quickly. “You’re amazing, Y/N. But I have responsibilities—my members, our fans, our future. I can’t be selfish right now.”
Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Y/N nodded, her expression unreadable. “I understand,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “But you don’t get to push me away like this and expect me to wait forever, Mingyu.”
He looked at her, his eyes pleading. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just... I can’t.”
Without another word, Y/N turned and walked away, leaving Mingyu alone on the rooftop, the city lights blurring as he blinked back tears.
The weeks following the success party were filled with promotional activities, interviews, and variety show appearances. Mingyu and Y/N were often paired together, their on-screen chemistry a major draw for fans. Despite their personal tension, they maintained a professional front, though their group members couldn’t help but notice the subtle shifts in their behavior.
During a joint guesting on a popular variety show, the host couldn’t resist teasing them. “So, Mingyu and Y/N, the nation’s favorite drama couple! Tell us, how did you two manage such incredible chemistry?”
Y/N smiled politely, giving a practiced response. “We both worked hard to bring our characters to life. It was all about understanding each other’s strengths as actors.”
Mingyu nodded, echoing her sentiment. “Y/N’s professionalism made it easy. She’s amazing to work with.”
Their co-stars smirked knowingly, while the host leaned closer. “Come on, there’s got to be more to it than that. Did you two practice those romantic scenes a lot off-camera?”
Mingyu laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Not really. We just... trusted each other.”
Y/N added, “And the director guided us a lot. It’s all thanks to the team.”
Despite their composed answers, the knowing glances exchanged between the cast and their group members didn’t go unnoticed by fans. Social media buzzed with theories about their relationship, with hashtags like #MingyuYNRomance trending worldwide.
When award season rolled around, the drama received multiple nominations, and the cast attended the ceremonies together. Mingyu and Y/N walked the red carpet side by side, their elegant outfits complementing each other perfectly. Fans cheered loudly, holding up signs and chanting their names.
Inside the venue, the tension between them was palpable. Seated next to each other, they exchanged polite smiles and small talk, but their group members noticed the lingering glances and subtle hesitations.
During one of the breaks, Mingyu’s fellow members cornered him. “Okay, spill it,” one of them said. “What’s going on with you and Y/N? You’re acting weird.”
“Nothing’s going on,” Mingyu insisted, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.
“Yeah, right,” another member chimed in. “You’ve been acting like a lovesick puppy since the drama started.”
Meanwhile, Y/N’s groupmates weren’t letting her off the hook either. “You’ve been so distracted lately,” one of them remarked. “Does it have anything to do with a certain tall, charming co-star?”
Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure, and I’m not a singer,” another member teased. “Come on, Y/N. We’re your friends. You can tell us.”
Despite their denials, the truth was becoming harder to hide. As they continued to navigate the whirlwind of promotions and public appearances, Mingyu and Y/N found themselves drawn to each other more than ever, their unresolved feelings simmering just beneath the surface.
The culmination of the award season came with the announcement of the Best Drama Couple award. As the presenter read their names, Mingyu and Y/N exchanged a surprised glance before standing up to accept the trophy together. The crowd erupted in applause, their fans going wild as they walked to the stage.
Standing under the bright lights, Mingyu took the microphone first. “Thank you so much for this honor. Working on this drama has been an incredible experience, and I’m grateful to have shared it with such an amazing team.”
He handed the microphone to Y/N, who smiled warmly. “This award belongs to everyone who worked tirelessly to make this drama a success. Thank you to the fans for supporting us and believing in our story.”
As they walked offstage, the host quipped, “Looks like the chemistry isn’t just on-screen!” prompting laughter from the audience and a shared, embarrassed smile from Mingyu and Y/N. Backstage, their group members were waiting, their teasing remarks only adding to the flurry of emotions the two were struggling to contain.
During one of Seventeen’s concerts, Mingyu found himself overwhelmed with emotion. As the group performed a heartfelt song dedicated to their fans, he felt the weight of everything he had been carrying—the success, the expectations, the unspoken feelings for Y/N. Tears streamed down his face as he sang, his voice trembling with raw emotion. The fans in the audience cheered louder, their love and support palpable.
The video of Mingyu crying during the performance quickly went viral, touching fans and even reaching Y/N’s group. One of her members showed her the clip during their downtime. “Look at him,” they said, smiling softly. “He’s always so composed, but this... this is different.”
Y/N watched the video, her heart aching as she saw the vulnerability in Mingyu’s expression. She didn’t say anything, but the sight of him like that stayed with her, a reminder of just how much he had been holding back.
Not long after, Y/N had her own moment of vulnerability during a live performance. Her group performed a ballad about heartbreak, and as Y/N sang the emotional climax, tears welled up in her eyes. The lyrics hit too close to home, and for a moment, she let her guard down, her voice quivering with the weight of her emotions. The audience was moved, their cheers a mix of admiration and sympathy.
Backstage, her members comforted her, while fans took to social media to express their support. Mingyu saw the performance later that night, and as he watched Y/N pour her heart out on stage, he felt a surge of longing and regret. She had always been so strong, but seeing her break down reminded him of how much she had been holding back as well.
Despite their best efforts to move forward, it was clear to everyone around Mingyu and Y/N that they were suffering. Mingyu was distracted during practices, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a subdued, distant energy. Meanwhile, Y/N, always composed and professional, was retreating into herself more than ever, her laughs sounding hollow even to her group members.
The tension didn’t go unnoticed by either group. During a shared music show appearance, Seventeen and Y/N’s group found themselves in the same waiting room. Between performances, Seungkwan finally spoke up, addressing both groups.
“I can’t take this anymore,” he said dramatically, earning a few chuckles. “Mingyu’s like a zombie lately, and I don’t think Y/N’s doing much better. They’re miserable.”
Y/N’s leader nodded in agreement. “It’s true. She’s been off since all of this started, even though she’s pretending she’s fine. Something has to give.”
Hoshi clapped his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “Then let’s make them talk!”
“Exactly,” Seungkwan agreed, his eyes gleaming with determination. “They’re clearly in love but too stubborn to admit it.”
The group members exchanged knowing glances, quickly forming a plan.
A few days later, Mingyu received a cryptic text from Joshua, asking him to meet at a quiet café in Seoul. Mingyu was confused but figured it was nothing unusual. At the same time, Y/N’s leader convinced her to visit the same café, claiming they had an errand to run.
When Mingyu arrived, he looked around, confused to find no sign of Joshua. Moments later, the bell above the door chimed, and Mingyu turned to see Y/N stepping in.
She froze when she spotted him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Mingyu replied, standing up. “Joshua told me to meet him here.”
“My leader said the same thing,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms.
It didn’t take long for them to realize what was happening. Turning toward the window, they spotted their group members sitting in a nearby van, grinning and waving. Hoshi held up a sign that read: "TALK IT OUT!"
Mingyu let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’ve been set up.”
Y/N crossed her arms, but her lips twitched with a hint of amusement. “Well, they’re not wrong.”
Inside the café, they sat across from each other in a corner booth. The silence was deafening, with Mingyu nervously tapping his fingers against his coffee cup while Y/N stared out the window.
Finally, Mingyu broke the silence. “I’ve missed you.”
Y/N turned to him, her expression softening but guarded. “Mingyu…”
“No, let me say this,” he interrupted, his voice filled with urgency. “I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away. I told myself it was for your sake, but all I’ve done is hurt both of us. And I hate it, Y/N. I hate being without you.”
Her lips parted as if to say something, but she stopped, letting him continue.
“I was scared,” Mingyu admitted. “Scared of what this would mean for you, for me, for our careers. But now I know that I was just making excuses. I don’t care about any of that anymore. All I care about is you.”
Y/N blinked back tears, her voice trembling as she responded. “I was scared too, Mingyu. But I never wanted you to go through this alone. I wanted to be there for you, but you wouldn’t let me.”
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m sorry. I’m done running away. I’m ready if you are.”
Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and she nodded. “Okay. But we have to face this together, Mingyu. No more shutting each other out.”
“Together,” he promised, reaching across the table to take her hand.
From the van outside, their group members erupted into cheers, causing curious passersby to glance their way. “Mission accomplished!” Seungkwan declared triumphantly.
“Finally,” Y/N’s leader said, grinning. “Now maybe we can have some peace.”
When Mingyu and Y/N stepped out of the café hand in hand, their groupmates burst into applause. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile, while Mingyu laughed, his ears turning red. Their friends quickly pulled them into a playful group hug, sealing the moment with their shared excitement
Their relationship brought new dynamics to both groups. Mingyu and Y/N started dating discreetly, often sneaking out for late-night walks or quick café visits between their busy schedules. However, their group members were far from subtle about their budding romance.
During one practice session, Woozi casually remarked, “So, did you two have a good date last night?” Mingyu choked on his water, while Y/N shot him a warning look. The room erupted into laughter.
Another time, Y/N’s group members cornered her during a makeup session. “Did Mingyu really buy you that bracelet?” one of them teased, pointing at the delicate chain on her wrist. Y/N tried to deny it, but her flushed cheeks gave her away.
Months into their relationship, after much discussion and deliberation, Mingyu and Y/N decided to make their relationship public. They wanted to share their happiness with fans who had supported them through every step of their journey.
One quiet evening, both posted matching statements on their respective social media accounts. The posts included a candid photo of them holding hands during a sunset walk, along with heartfelt messages thanking their fans and promising to continue their careers with the same dedication and love.
The reactions were immediate and overwhelming. Fans flooded the comments with messages of support, some even recalling the sparks they had noticed during the drama’s promotions. Within minutes, their names trended worldwide, with hashtags like #MingyuYNRomance and #SupportLove gaining traction.
Their group members, of course, couldn’t resist chiming in. Seungkwan posted a screenshot of the announcement with the caption, “Finally!” followed by several heart emojis. Y/N’s leader commented, “About time! Proud of you both.”
In the days that followed, they appeared on a variety show to address the news. When asked how it felt to go public, Mingyu joked, “I feel lighter now. No more sneaking around!” Y/N laughed, adding, “And no more teasing from our members…hopefully.”
The hosts congratulated them, and the episode was filled with lighthearted banter about their romance, including a reenactment of their first on-screen kiss, much to their embarrassment. Their members, seated in the audience, cheered loudly and made exaggerated heart signs, causing the couple to dissolve into laughter.
Despite the initial nerves, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. Fans praised their courage and celebrated the love story that had unfolded before their eyes. With the support of their loved ones and fans, Mingyu and Y/N embraced their relationship openly, proving that love and career could coexist beautifully.
While promoting on separate shows, the teasing didn’t stop. During an episode of a cooking show where Y/N was a guest, the host brought up Mingyu. “So, does your boyfriend cook for you?” he asked with a sly smile. Y/N nearly dropped the bowl she was holding, her flustered reaction earning laughs from the crew.
Meanwhile, on a talk show with Seventeen, the host slyly mentioned Y/N’s name while discussing Mingyu’s favorite co-stars. The members immediately jumped in, with Seungkwan exclaiming, “You mean his favorite person in general!” Mingyu buried his face in his hands, mumbling, “Why do I even talk to you guys?”
As the teasing continued on the talk show, the host couldn't resist digging a little deeper. "So, Mingyu, does Y/N have a favorite dish of yours? Or maybe something you cooked that she pretended to like?"
Mingyu, still blushing from Seungkwan's antics, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Well... she says she likes my kimchi stew, but I think she’s just being nice. She’s a really good cook herself, so it’s a little intimidating."
The members, of course, weren’t about to let that go. DK leaned forward with mock seriousness. "Mingyu, are you saying that your love language is cooking, but you’re worried you’ll never win against hers?"
The audience burst into laughter, and Mingyu groaned, "You guys are the worst!" But the fond smile on his face betrayed him.
Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own set of playful jabs. During another variety show appearance with her group, the topic of dating naturally came up. The host smirked and said, "So, Y/N, is it true that someone has been giving you pointers on acting lately?"
Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but one of her members jumped in with a laugh. "Oh, she’s had lots of inspiration lately. Isn’t that right, Y/N?"
Y/N shot her a look but couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe," she replied, trying to keep it vague, but the knowing chuckles from the audience told her it was no use.
As time passed, their relationship grew even stronger. Their fans, though initially surprised by the announcement, were incredibly supportive. Fan projects celebrating their relationship popped up worldwide, ranging from fan art and video edits to organized donation drives in their names.
Even during promotions, fans showed their love. At a fan signing event, Mingyu received a note from a fan that read, "Thank you for being brave enough to share your happiness with us. We're rooting for you and Y/N!" He couldn’t help but beam, and later, when Y/N was shown a photo of the note by her own fans, she smiled fondly.
Their groups also made light of their relationship during joint appearances. During a game segment on a music show, Y/N’s leader and Seungkwan ended up on the same team. At one point, Y/N's leader turned to him and said, "We should work together more often. Maybe we’ll pick up some of Mingyu and Y/N’s chemistry."
Seungkwan clapped dramatically. "Exactly! Let’s call it inspiration. They’ve raised the bar for all of us!"
The playful exchanges were always met with laughter, and though Mingyu and Y/N often rolled their eyes at the teasing, it was clear they appreciated the love and support surrounding them.
One memorable moment came during Seventeen’s encore stage at an awards show where Y/N’s group was also present. Fans had been hoping for some interaction, and they weren’t disappointed. During the song, Mingyu subtly glanced toward Y/N’s group, catching her gaze for just a moment. The fans screamed as Y/N, always composed, broke into a shy smile.
Later that night, as they sat together at the after-party, Mingyu whispered, "You smiled at me on stage."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "And? You’re acting like it’s the first time."
He grinned. "It’s different when millions of people are watching."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."
Their love story, now openly celebrated, became a symbol of balance and determination. Fans admired how they managed their busy lives while supporting each other. Their interviews began to touch on the theme of love and career, with both of them often emphasizing the importance of trust and mutual respect.
"People think it’s hard to date when you’re in the spotlight," Mingyu said during an interview. "And it is. But when you find the right person, it feels worth it."
Y/N, in a separate interview, shared similar sentiments. "It’s about understanding each other’s worlds and growing together. I’m lucky to have someone who does that."
As the years passed, their relationship only grew stronger, weathering the ups and downs of fame together. Their story wasn’t just about two idols in love—it became an enduring tale of growth, courage, and the power of love to thrive, even in the most extraordinary circumstances.
As the teasing continued on the talk show, the host couldn't resist digging a little deeper. "So, Mingyu, does Y/N have a favorite dish of yours? Or maybe something you cooked that she pretended to like?"
Mingyu, still blushing from Seungkwan's antics, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Well... she says she likes my kimchi stew, but I think she’s just being nice. She’s a really good cook herself, so it’s a little intimidating."
The members, of course, weren’t about to let that go. DK leaned forward with mock seriousness. "Mingyu, are you saying that your love language is cooking, but you’re worried you’ll never win against hers?"
The audience burst into laughter, and Mingyu groaned, "You guys are the worst!" But the fond smile on his face betrayed him.
Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own set of playful jabs. During another variety show appearance with her group, the topic of dating naturally came up. The host smirked and said, "So, Y/N, is it true that someone has been giving you pointers on acting lately?"
Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but one of her members jumped in with a laugh. "Oh, she’s had lots of inspiration lately. Isn’t that right, Y/N?"
Y/N shot her a look but couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe," she replied, trying to keep it vague, but the knowing chuckles from the audience told her it was no use.
As time passed, their relationship grew even stronger. Their fans, though initially surprised by the announcement, were incredibly supportive. Fan projects celebrating their relationship popped up worldwide, ranging from fan art and video edits to organized donation drives in their names.
Even during promotions, fans showed their love. At a fan signing event, Mingyu received a note from a fan that read, "Thank you for being brave enough to share your happiness with us. We're rooting for you and Y/N!" He couldn’t help but beam, and later, when Y/N was shown a photo of the note by her own fans, she smiled fondly.
Their groups also made light of their relationship during joint appearances. During a game segment on a music show, Y/N’s leader and Seungkwan ended up on the same team. At one point, Y/N's leader turned to him and said, "We should work together more often. Maybe we’ll pick up some of Mingyu and Y/N’s chemistry."
Seungkwan clapped dramatically. "Exactly! Let’s call it inspiration. They’ve raised the bar for all of us!"
The playful exchanges were always met with laughter, and though Mingyu and Y/N often rolled their eyes at the teasing, it was clear they appreciated the love and support surrounding them.
One memorable moment came during Seventeen’s encore stage at an awards show where Y/N’s group was also present. Fans had been hoping for some interaction, and they weren’t disappointed. During the song, Mingyu subtly glanced toward Y/N’s group, catching her gaze for just a moment. The fans screamed as Y/N, always composed, broke into a shy smile.
Later that night, as they sat together at the after-party, Mingyu whispered, "You smiled at me on stage."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "And? You’re acting like it’s the first time."
He grinned. "It’s different when millions of people are watching."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."
Their love story, now openly celebrated, became a symbol of balance and determination. Fans admired how they managed their busy lives while supporting each other. Their interviews began to touch on the theme of love and career, with both of them often emphasizing the importance of trust and mutual respect.
"People think it’s hard to date when you’re in the spotlight," Mingyu said during an interview. "And it is. But when you find the right person, it feels worth it."
Y/N, in a separate interview, shared similar sentiments. "It’s about understanding each other’s worlds and growing together. I’m lucky to have someone who does that."
As the years passed, their relationship only grew stronger, weathering the ups and downs of fame together. Their story wasn’t just about two idols in love—it became an enduring tale of growth, courage, and the power of love to thrive, even in the most extraordinary circumstances.
As the teasing continued on the talk show, the host couldn't resist digging a little deeper. "So, Mingyu, does Y/N have a favorite dish of yours? Or maybe something you cooked that she pretended to like?"
Mingyu, still blushing from Seungkwan's antics, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Well... she says she likes my kimchi stew, but I think she’s just being nice. She’s a really good cook herself, so it’s a little intimidating."
The members, of course, weren’t about to let that go. DK leaned forward with mock seriousness. "Mingyu, are you saying that your love language is cooking, but you’re worried you’ll never win against hers?"
The audience burst into laughter, and Mingyu groaned, "You guys are the worst!" But the fond smile on his face betrayed him.
Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own set of playful jabs. During another variety show appearance with her group, the topic of dating naturally came up. The host smirked and said, "So, Y/N, is it true that someone has been giving you pointers on acting lately?"
Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but one of her members jumped in with a laugh. "Oh, she’s had lots of inspiration lately. Isn’t that right, Y/N?"
Y/N shot her a look but couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe," she replied, trying to keep it vague, but the knowing chuckles from the audience told her it was no use.
As time passed, their relationship grew even stronger. Their fans, though initially surprised by the announcement, were incredibly supportive. Fan projects celebrating their relationship popped up worldwide, ranging from fan art and video edits to organized donation drives in their names.
Even during promotions, fans showed their love. At a fan signing event, Mingyu received a note from a fan that read, "Thank you for being brave enough to share your happiness with us. We're rooting for you and Y/N!" He couldn’t help but beam, and later, when Y/N was shown a photo of the note by her own fans, she smiled fondly.
Their groups also made light of their relationship during joint appearances. During a game segment on a music show, Y/N’s leader and Seungkwan ended up on the same team. At one point, Y/N's leader turned to him and said, "We should work together more often. Maybe we’ll pick up some of Mingyu and Y/N’s chemistry."
Seungkwan clapped dramatically. "Exactly! Let’s call it inspiration. They’ve raised the bar for all of us!"
The playful exchanges were always met with laughter, and though Mingyu and Y/N often rolled their eyes at the teasing, it was clear they appreciated the love and support surrounding them.
One memorable moment came during Seventeen’s encore stage at an awards show where Y/N’s group was also present. Fans had been hoping for some interaction, and they weren’t disappointed. During the song, Mingyu subtly glanced toward Y/N’s group, catching her gaze for just a moment. The fans screamed as Y/N, always composed, broke into a shy smile.
Later that night, as they sat together at the after-party, Mingyu whispered, "You smiled at me on stage."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "And? You’re acting like it’s the first time."
He grinned. "It’s different when millions of people are watching."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."
Their love story, now openly celebrated, became a symbol of balance and determination. Fans admired how they managed their busy lives while supporting each other. Their interviews began to touch on the theme of love and career, with both of them often emphasizing the importance of trust and mutual respect.
"People think it’s hard to date when you’re in the spotlight," Mingyu said during an interview. "And it is. But when you find the right person, it feels worth it."
Y/N, in a separate interview, shared similar sentiments. "It’s about understanding each other’s worlds and growing together. I’m lucky to have someone who does that."
As the years passed, their relationship only grew stronger, weathering the ups and downs of fame together. Their story wasn’t just about two idols in love—it became an enduring tale of growth, courage, and the power of love to thrive, even in the most extraordinary circumstances.
87 notes · View notes
ostaramoon · 1 day ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
03. you're a cowboy like me
Tumblr media
ᯓ★ story index abt, you wake up next to dean, trying really hard not to make rash decisions but he keeps looking at you like that and smiling like that and— fuck it. warnings, smut 18+ mdni!, cowboy hat rule, riiiide 'em cowgirl, struggle 2 face feelings, shared showers 2.9k words
Tumblr media
The afternoon spills it’s golden warmth into the old house, dust sparkling in the rays cutting through the open windows. Slowly, you stir, finding yourself comfortably tangled up with Dean. Somewhere in your sleep, you ended up tucked between the faded grey cushions of the couch and him—his arm draped loosely over your shoulders, your hand and ear pressed right to the steady beat of his chest.
He’s still out cold, half sitting up with his legs sprawled across the length of the couch, one boot dangling precariously off the edge. His pink lips are just slightly parted, brows softer than you’ve ever seen them. His stetson sits low enough to shield his eyes from the sun, lashes barely visible beneath the brim.
You steal the moment, shamelessly drinking him in: the way his features seem gentler now, all the rough edges smoothed out by sleep. There’s something about seeing him like this that makes your chest ache, just a pinch.
Then his tongue sweeps lazily across his bottom lip, wetting it before they tug up into a smirk. “You keep starin’ at me like that, sweet thing,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low with sleep, “‘nd I’ll start thinkin’ you might be sweet on me.”
You jerk back slightly, caught red-handed, but you recover fast, flashing a coy grin. “Might? Don’t give yourself too much credit, cowboy.”
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your palm, and his arm tightens just slightly before he pulls away, stretching leisurely like he hasn’t a care in the world. “Sure, darlin’,” he teases, tipping his hat back enough to give you a lazy once-over, that boyish grin never leaving his sleepy face. “But if you wanted to cozy up to me all night, you just had to ask.”
Living on the road meant living by your own code—let ‘em chase, but never get caught. It’s become a rule you follow religiously, a line you never cross. 
But for the love of all things holy, this silver-tongued man is staring down at you with that deviant glint in his pretty green eyes, the kind that electrifies your skin, winds you up in the most invasive way. His chest, broad and steady beneath yours, feels like a challenge, and that damn stetson perched atop his dirty blonde, tousled hair only makes it worse—taunting you, daring you to just reach out and take it.
Your eyes lock with his, and for a split second, it feels like he’s peering past your irises and right into the swirl of wicked thoughts dancing in your mind. His gaze falters, dipping to your mouth just as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. 
Before he can catch on, you snag the hat from his head in one slow, deliberate motion. Settling it atop your own with a smug little tilt.
You meet his stare head-on, fluttering lashes feigning innocence. A slow, low laugh spills from his lips, rich and rough, igniting a flush on your skin.
His thumb brushes up to catch your chin, holding it gently but firm as he leans in, consuming nearly all of the space between. Hungry and honey-eyed, he’s fixed on trailing over your features with a deliberation that sets your pulse racing. “Careful, now.” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath skimming your skin awakens shivers cascading down your spine.
Your gaze flickers, restless and heated, between his open mouth and watchful eyes. “I’m done with careful,” you breathe—and before you can think twice about it—your lips close the gap. 
He leans into the kiss, rushed and messy, as his hand grasps the back of your neck to tug you closer. You climb on top, straddling his dirty blue jeans. A moan escapes you as he bites down on your bottom lip, matching his hasty kiss. Your nails dig into the back of his neck and he grumbles against your mouth.
His hands lose any sense of decency, sliding under your shirt, finger pads roughly digging into the skin of your waist. Deep enough to leave big red hand prints in their wake. Your hips twitch in his grasp, denim rocking against denim with enough pressure to make him groan against your lips. 
His hands shift, hooking under your thighs as he lifts you to maneuver himself to sit properly against the back of the couch. 
Your hands find the cool, silver buckle of his belt and tug, “Woah,” he rasps, mouth still pressed to yours with a breathy laugh, “easy, sweet thing.” His lips move to trail sloppy kisses down your neck, as his hands find the button of your jeans, swiftly popping them open.
He pulls back, his dilated pupils finding yours as one hand roughly grabs your jaw, “I wanna see how pretty you look,” he starts with a tantalizing smirk, eyes trained on yours while his other hand slips down into your heat. You're gasping before he can even finish his sentence, “when you cum.”
Two thick fingers plunge inside, stretching you out and curling just enough to make you whimper. The sound coming from your lips makes his grip on your jaw tighten as a lazy smile crosses his lips. He starts to pump, slow, too slow, and you buck your hips against his hand. 
“So pretty when you’re needy,” he hums as his thumb presses to your clit, circling and working you into a dizzy headed mess. His other hand slips down to your throat, holding you in place as he leans back slightly, just enough to watch your eyes flutter and brows knit while you ride his working hand. 
“Dean,” you whimper, as he works a brutal pace into you. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches. The pressure in your core builds as he sinks deeper, hitting your sweet spot in a merciless rhythm. You falter, your hands pressing into his chest for stability. 
“Stay just like that,” he mumbles, relaxed against the couch, undoing you with ease, hungry eyes shamelessly watching you lose any semblance of control of yourself. 
Your walls clench around his digits, breath hitching with every rough thrust. The sensation of it all drawing your eyes closed, reeling in the building knot of tension, “Nuh, uh. Look at me—” he demands, voice husky and warm.
“Dean—fuck,” you sigh, opening your eyes to find his, pupils eating the green of his irises as you’re reduced to a whimper wet mess in his hands. 
Your hips sputter and buck as you catch your breath, and he slowly pulls his hands from your jeans. You’re still coming back down when he’s picking you up at the waist, setting you on wobbly legs to tug your jeans loose from your legs. His hands glide over the skin of your thighs, squeezing your ass before pulling you back onto his lap. 
He moves with an eagerness that matches your own, securing your legs around him, his lips are back on yours as you both clumsily undo his belt and tug just enough for his cock to come out—slick and throbbing against your skin. 
He groans against your lips, taking himself in his hands. “Fuck,” he hisses, thrusting into your wetness. The sudden stretch makes you shudder, nails digging into his shoulders as you sink down onto his length, rocking your hips into his. 
His mouth goes to your neck, lapping and biting at the sensitive skin. His hands squeeze your hips, guiding your body up and down against his. 
It’s hot and sticky in the old house, making you feel damn near high as his tip slams against your sweet spot. His movement matches yours, messy—needy. His arms wrap around you as you lean against his chest. 
He steadies your hips with one hand, the other securely locked around your back. Thrusting up into you at a mind-numbing pace. His hand gets tangled in your hair—the pull making your vision go spotty. 
You give into his control, mind swirling with his lips desecrating any bit of your skin he can find, the sound of wet skin slapping against each other filling the room with your whimpering and his muffled groans. 
Your hand wraps around the muscles of his bicep, nails digging deep as the other clutches to the back of his neck. You feel yourself tighten around his cock, moans sputtering out of your lips as your thighs tighten against his hips. His hips sputter, cursing under his breath as the sensation of his cum shooting inside you pushes you over the edge.
Your bodies become a synchronized twitching mess—panting from the come down as you slowly loosen your grip on him. 
Blinking back into reality, you sit up, still too weak to remove yourself from his lap. Dean’s sleepy smile finds you, his hands coming up to brush the stray hairs from your face as he cups your cheeks. “See,” he huffs, managing to find his ammunition for teasing as he grounds himself back to earth, “told you I’d be a gentleman.” 
You roll your eyes, swatting his hands from your face with a tired laugh as you roll off his lap and onto the couch beside him. “That smart mouth of yours is making sense of all the trouble you talk about getting yourself into.” you retort, rising on weak legs to slip back into your clothes. 
“Mhm,” he hums, hardly listening to what you had said, “you sure you need to keep those on?” 
His hand catches your thigh just as you’re pulling the denim over them—interrupting you. He leans over, swollen lips leaving kisses on your skin as you’re swatting at him again. The reaction makes him look up at you with a teasing, dimpled smile. “Sorry—can’t help myself.” 
You bite back a laugh, refusing to encourage his mischief. You can feel his eyes on you as you jump into your jeans, bottoning them back up. Through the window, you can see the afternoon sun moving down onto the horizon. 
“We should probably go find your car,” you sigh, turning on your heel to face him as he finishes up notching his belt. 
“Probably,” he nods, eyes lazily casing the desert sky, “my backseat’s pretty spacious, too, y’know. In case—” 
Your hand goes up, cutting him off as you shake your head. You leave him to chuckle at himself in the living room. 
ᯓ★ 
The sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the abandoned ranch as you and Dean prepare to leave. The silence between you is tangible, charged with everything you’ve done and nothing you’ve said.
The walk through the desert feels endless, the dusty trail crunching under your boots as the golden glow of the horizon stretches out before you. Dean leads the way, his pace steady, his shoulders broad against the fading light. You follow close behind, the heat of the day clinging to your skin, but the chill of the coming night creeping in.
“You ever think about settlin’ down?” you ask, breaking the quiet.
Dean glances back at you, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You mean, like a white picket fence and apple pie? Doesn’t really suit me.”
“No,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “I mean, somethin’... simpler. A place to call your own, where you don’t have to look over your shoulder every second.”
He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the trail ahead. “It’s not in the cards,” he admits finally, his voice low and rough.
You let his words hang in the air, biting back the urge to press further. He’s not the type to linger on dreams he doesn’t think he can have. 
As the sky fades to deep blue and the first stars begin to peek through, you finally see it—Dean’s Impala, tucked away beneath a rocky overhang like a secret he couldn’t bear to lose.
“There she is,” he says, his tone softening as he picks up his pace.
You watch him approach the car, his hand brushing over the hood like he’s greeting an old friend. You can’t help but smile, the sight of him and that car feeling like something whole in a world that’s always breaking.
He opens the trunk, dumping the duffle bag and rummaging through for a blanket, he tosses it over to you. “Get comfortable. We’re better off to cover some miles tonight, get away from the town.”
You take the blanket and slide into the passenger seat as he gets behind the wheel. The air between you feels lighter now, as if the journey through the desert burned away some of the weight you felt at his words from earlier.
The drive is quiet, the radio dialed low, filling the space with the sound of guitar-driven symphonies. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His jaw is tight, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, but there’s a softness in his eyes when they flick to yours. It’s the kind of look that makes you wonder if he’s holding onto something he can’t bring himself to say.
The hum of the engine and the gentle sway of the Impala lull you into a light sleep, your head resting against the cool window. The sky bleeds from orange into black as you sleep. Dean tries to keep his focus on the road, but a pull he can’t quite make sense of keeps his head turning to you. Checking, every so often. As if you might disappear—be a figment of his imagination—if he doesn’t. 
You’re pulled from the haze by the softest nudge—Dean’s hand on your shoulder, his voice low and rough in the quiet.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a small smile as you blink up at him. “Got us a room.”
You yawn, stretching as you step out of the car, the cool night air prickling against your skin. The dingy motel sign flickers overhead, casting faint neon light across Dean’s face. He unlocks the door, holding it open with a smirk as you step inside.
Your eyes land on the lone bed in the center of the room, the sheets pulled tight, and pillows stacked neatly. “One bed, huh?” you remark, raising an eyebrow.
Dean shrugs, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Figured you wouldn’t mind.” His grin turns playful, teasing. “‘M gonna shower, if you wanna join. Wouldn’t wanna waste all that hot water.”
You give him a slow, deliberate once-over, biting back a smile. “Well, aren’t you full of ideas,” you say, turning toward the bathroom.
Dean’s eyes follow you, his confidence faltering for just a second as you slip off your jacket and toss it onto the bed. One step, then another, you trail your fingers to the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head as you walk, letting it fall to the floor without looking back. Next, you wiggle out of your jeans and kick them to the side.
“Damn,” he mutters under his breath, scrambling to follow, his boots thudding softly on the floor.
You glance over your shoulder, catching the way his gaze sweeps over you like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “Coming, cowboy?”
His jaw works, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, I’m comin’.”
The bathroom fills with warm steam, and you’re giggling before you’ve even stepped under the water. Dean fumbles with the knobs, his grin boyish, his cheeks flushed. The messy, very much necessary moment back at the old ranch was one thing—standing in front of each other naked and tired from a night’s drive felt like something else entirely.
The awkward air gives way to jokes almost immediately—him teasing you about how you’re hogging the water, you laughing at his terrible singing as he rinses his hair.
It’s easy, light, like the world doesn’t exist beyond the tiled walls and the sound of your laughter.
Afterward, you both dry off, Dean tossing you a shirt he grabbed from his duffel. It hangs loosely on you, the scent of him clinging to the fabric. He watches as you climb into bed, his expression softening before he joins you, sliding in beside you like he belongs there.
For a moment, it’s quiet. The lamp casts a faint glow, the sound of distant crickets filtering through the open window. Dean shifts closer, his arm draping over your waist, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck.
“You make me feel… okay, like I don’t gotta worry so much.” he murmurs, the words almost too soft to hear. “I’d started to forget what that felt like.”
Your chest tightens, but you don’t reply, not with words. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, threading your fingers together.
The steady rhythm of his breathing slows as you drift off, his warmth wrapped around you, his presence a comfort you hadn’t realized you craved.
Sleep comes slowly, your mind swirling with memories of his touch, his warmth, and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. You think about asking him—what happens now?—but the steady rhythm of his breathing tells you he’s already asleep.
Or so you think.
Dean lies awake long after your breathing evens out, his gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling. Outside, the Impala sits ready, the desert wind whispering against its sleek frame.
And as the stars blink down on the quiet motel, Dean makes his decision.
Tumblr media
erm sorry if that scene sucked. i. tried. </3 i felt like the rushed needy give it 2 me now vibe made sense idk !! and i just rly think this version of dean is a freak that likes to watch ok ily bye
tags <3 @stanzie @the-fandoms-onceler @floralscented @titsout4jackles
107 notes · View notes
thebestsetter · 3 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
-> Part 1
-> Pairings: Otoya x reader (romantic) , Karasu x reader (platonic)
-> Synopsis: Otoya regrets being a cheater. But how will he tell you that, when he can't even get near you?
-> A/N: I finally, FINALLY finished this. Locked in, guys. Please, someone congratulate me. I need sleep. Not proofread, sorry.
Tumblr media
For the first time in a while, Otoya doesn't know what to do.
He's never been insecure about the choices he makes. Actually, scratch that: he's the most uncaring and reckless guy ever, and he just wants to enjoy life to the fullest without really caring for his actions and what they can bring upon him in the future.
God, how he wishes he wasn't like that.
Because right now, all he wants to do is study for 10 years or something, build a time machine, go back to the past and beat his past self up. Like, hard. Until younger him has a bloody nose and a black eye.
Maybe this little "fight" could make past Otoya think twice before cheating on the first girl he got in a serious relationship with. Maybe he wouldn't be known as a womanizer. Maybe he could've had a chance with you then.
Maybe if he did that, he wouldn't be in Karasu's bedroom right now, scattering his brain for the past 2 hours for a way to make you forgive him.
"Don't you have any prophecies for me this time?" Otoya mindlessly asked, tearing tiny pieces of Karasu's math homeword, crumpling them and throwing them at his friend
"What do ya mean? I'm not an oracle" Karasu answered, just wanting this all to be over with (he couldn't handle Otoya going on about you anymore)
"You might as well be" Otoya sighed, grabbing another piece of paper and crumpling it "You've cursed me before. Can't you bless me this once?"
"Well, the things I say ain't gonna change the past. Nothing's going to. What you can do is fix the future"
"Wow. You're actually like a prophet or something." Otoya rolled his eyes, aiming at the top of his friend's hair "I've never thought about that! Wow! You're incredible, prophet Karasu!" He mocked him, muttering a small "Yes!" when the pieces of paper perfectly landed on Tabito's hair
"Haha. Very funny" Karasu glared at his friend, shaking his head to get rid of the paper. Then, he sighed "No, but seriously. Ya need to fix this. I am not going to be your love guru anymore"
"Love guru? You're not even doing anything to help me!" Otoya scoffed, then sighed as he realized he tore all the homework "And if you're so 'tired of me' like you said, just help me solve this situation! Help me find a way to talk to her, cause I'm seriously going insane!"
"I can see that" Karasu smirked, crossing his arms. Then just as soon as he smirked, he stopped. His serious face making it seem like the smirk was it was never even there "Have you tried talking to her, already?"
"Of course I did!" Otoya rolled his eyes, getting up from Karasu's gaming chair and beggining to pace around the room "But I can't! She doesn't let me" He sighed, finally sitting on the floor, right in front of Tabito "She doesn't let me get into her house. And her parents probably know about what's happening too, cause they won't let me in. When she has to go out, she checks if I'm there, and only when she's sure I'm not does she get out. At school, everytime she sees me, she walks the other way. She doesn't sit next to me in any classes, and the only classes we share together are history and advanced chemistry, which we share with you so you know she doesn't even look my way" he crossed his arms, pouting and looking to the side, as if he was ashamed of what he was about to say "It also doesn't help that I've cheated on or flirted with almost all of her girl friends. So they hate me, and won't let me get close to her cause they say I would 'Hurt her' or something"
"Well, would you?" Karasu arched a brow "Hurt and cheat on her, I mean"
"What?" Otoya looked at him incredously, frown deepening as if Karasu said he hated his mom or something "Of course not! I like her dude. Like, like-like her. A lot more than the other girls I got into a relationship with. She's nicer, prettier, smarter, funnier, more caring, more-"
"Alright, alright, I get it" Karasu smirked again "You're head over heels. Well, loverboy, why don't you try talking to her again tomorrow during chemistry? If it doesn't work out, we can try to find another way, 'right?"
"Sure" Otoya sighed, getting up "I don't think it's gonna work, but it's worth the shot"
"Now, let's go eat something to take your mind out of this for a while. My mom prepared cookies" Karasu also got up, patting Otoya's back and putting his arm around his shoulders
"Sure, all this thinking made me hungry anyways" he then looked at the ground, like he was lost in thought. He then suddenly lifted his head, and Karasu could almost see a light bulb lighting up rjght above it "Hey, you think if I made (Name) cookies, it would be easier for her to forgive me?"
"Bro, shut up"
Tumblr media
The advanced chemistry class would start in 5 minutes, and you were nowhere to be found.
Otoya was actually nervous, though he seemed laid-back with his arms behind his head and his feet on the table.
"What if she moved classes just to be further from me?" Otoya asked Karasu, his seat partner, while nervously looking at the door "What if she moved schools?"
"Dude, stop" Karasu rolled his eyes "She's probably just running late. You more than anyone know how she's a little clumsy and likes to sleep in"
"Yeah" Otoya smiled a little "I always thought it was cute when I went to her house and she was still sleeping"
"Don't even start rambling about 'how cute she is' again. I'll actually kill myself if you do"
Just as Karasu said that, the girl Otoya was waiting for entered the classroom, looking distraught and breathing heavily. 'She probably ran all the way here' Eita thought, which made his smile stretch up a little
In a sudden moviment, Otoya removed his feet from the table, not wanting to look like a "delinquent" in front of you. He slid his hands through his hair, smelled his breath, making sure it was at least bearable, and removed some cookie crumbs from his uniform.
Just as he was about to get up and approach you, the teacher entered the classroom, shouting about some activity in page 34.
"Shit" Otoya muttered, putting his head in his hands
"It's okay, man. There's always the end of the class" Karasu patted Eita's shoulder
"Yeah. I guess you're right" Otoya sighed, grabbing his book just as the teacher asked
He couldn't care less for the class, honestly. The 1 hour period looked like it took a century to end. The clock on top of the board looked like it was staring at him, seemingly laughing and slowing tine down.
He moved his knees up and down, axiety radiating off of him in waves.
'What the heck is happening to me?' He asked himself, doodling a girl that strangely lookes like you on the side of the paper. When he realized what he did, he quickly erased it, face heating up 'I've never acted like this! Just what is she doing to me? And how to win her back...'
"Otoya" Karasu snapped him out of his thoughts, pointing to the white board. They sat near the back of the classroom, so Otoya had to squint his eyes to read what was written on the board.
There, in the chemistry teacher's ugly hand writing, he read:
CHEMISTRY PROJECT
1 WEEK TO FINISH IT
60% OF THE GRADE
"So, as I was saying" the teacher started "This is a project about Lavoisier's laws. And before you ask, it is not individual. It's gonna be in duos..."
"We should do it together" Karasu muttered as the whole class began whispering "Unless you wanna do it with her"
"As if she would let me" Otoya muttered back "But I'd like to. I'll try to talk to her"
"...and I choose the duos. No switching partners, either" the teacher ended, and the bastard looked like he was holding back a smirk
A roar of disappointed whispers could be heard from the class, including from Karasu, but Otoya was not sad in the slightest.
This was perfect. If the teacher put you both together, you couldn't complain. You couldn't switch partners. He's just gonna need a bit of luck on his side.
"I'm gonna start saying the duos now" the teacher said, grabbing a paper "Yuko and Hitoka"
He began praying. Begging for you to be his partner.
"Yumeko and Tobio"
'C'mon' he thought 'C'mon, c'mon, c'mon"
His leg was shaking. He was sweating.
"Kyoko and Tanaka"
This was it. You two were gonna be together, and you'd finally realize how he regrets his past actions.
Finally, a little bit of luck on his life. Finally, a little push. He was the world's luckiest man. He was literally the world's...
"(Name) and Karasu"
Unluckiest man.
"Ouch. I'm sorry, dude" Karasu said, with a frown.
"...what are you sorry for?" Otoya answered, snapping out of his daydream "It isn't your fault, don't worry about it. I'll just have to accept it. I'll never get her."
"Don't say that." Karasu's frown got deeper "We're gonna work something out. I promise"
Otoya sighed, and then smiled a little
"Thank you, bro. I don't even know how to pay you back for what you're doing"
"I know" Karasu said, his typical smirk appearing on his face again "A couple hundreds on my bank account would be nice"
"Dude." Otoya deadpanned, but laughed a little
On the other side of the classroom, you were relieved and panicked at the same time
Sure, you were hoping you wouldn't be partnered up with Otoya, so you were relieved. But get partnered up with his best friend? That wasn't really ideal.
Karasu was a good person, had helped you more than once and was a chemistry genius, so you were sure the project would go by smoothly and you'd get a good grade.
Still, you couldn't help but be a little bit nervous. You tried to tell yourself that it was because of the whole grade thing, but you knew it wasn't.
You heart knew. You were scared Otoya would do something. And you were even more afraid, because you knew that, if he did something, you'd most likely forgive him.
And that thought frightened you.
Whatever. You just had to put on your big girl's pants and do it.
It was easier said than done, though, when Karasu walked up to you, wanting your phone number to discuss project stuff, and Otoya trailed behind him, trying hard to talk to you and grab your attention.
It was easier said than done when, the moment you gave Karasu your number, Otoya frowned a little, clearly trying not to seem affected by it, but not enjoying it one bit.
Man this, was gonna be hard.
Tumblr media
"Make yourself at home" Karasu said, turning on the lights of his room.
You made it clear you felt comfortable doing the work in his room, since most books and chemistry stuff were already here and you didn't want to be a burden. Still, he insisted on leaving the door open, though, just to make sure, which honestly made you more relieved.
He seemed nicer than Otoya. Taller. A little buffer, too.
So why couldn't you have fallen for him? Why did your heart earn for a cheater?
"Thank you" you answered, trying to shake your thoughts away. You were here to do the chemistry project, not to think about boys.
It was hard maintaining that philosophy when everywhere you looked, you could see photos of him and Otoya. When you saw Otoya's jacket lying around, knowing he was there before. When you saw his stupid plastic shuriken, which she he used to try to impress you one time but ended up throwing it at the old lady who lived in the house right beside your's face.
"Let's start the project, shall we?" Karasu said, smiling nervously. He noticed you were looking at Otoya's things, and he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so he tried to take your mind off of it. The last thing he needed was you thinking that he and Otoya had planned to do something while you were here. You were for sure going to hate Eita even more"
"S-sure" you flinched, hating how you stuttered and how squicky you voice came out "I mean, sure. Let's start"
Safe to say, the project went by just fine. You finished it in no time, and in 2 hours, you were both just sitting on his floor, eating blue cookies his mother made and gossiping about some school girl who apparently hooked up with a teacher.
"Man, you're cool" Karasu smiled at you, and suddenly had an idea. He mentally apologized to both you and Otoya, but this was the only way to help his friend "No wonder Otoya talks about you all of the time"
He then faked a surprised reaction, even covering his mouth with his hand and muttering "Oops"
"He... talks about me?" You repeated, trying to make sense of what he said
"All of the time" Karasu said "He talks about how nice, pretty and funny you are. I honestly can't take it anymore"
An uncomfortable silence settled in the room, and just as he was about to take what he said back, you muttered
"You're not..." you hesitated "You're not lying, are you?"
"What? No, I'm not" He said "He really likes you, you know. He even stopped going out with every girl he sees. He changed. For you"
You doubted it. Your brain told you to doubt his words, to just ignore what he said. He was probably just helping his friend, who wanted to get laid or something. Your brain told you that.
But your heart was foolish. It was dumb. And so, you couldn't help but feel flattered to hear that. You wanted to believe him.
"Excuse me" you said, suddenly getting up "I need to go to the bathroom." You needed to clear your thoughts
"Oh, sure" Karasu answered, pointing at a door that was right beside you "Right there. My room's a suite" you nodded, and began walking away "I'm sorry if I said something wrong"
"You're fine" and with that, you entered the bathroom
Karasu thought that was it. That he completely ruined his friend's chances with you, and you'd both hate him forever.
Keyword: thought. Otoya would never stop surprising him.
That's why, when Otoya entered his room running, Karasu couldn't help but let out a strained yelp
"What are you doing here?" Karasu growled, looking at his friend
"She's not here, right?" Otoya asked, looking around the room "Please tell me she's not here"
You were not dumb. Neither were you deaf. You were listening. Karasu knew you were listening.
"No." Karasu answered "No, she's not"
Now, Otoya's fate rested on his hands. He couldn't screw this up. He needed to talk about you, say what he truly thought.
Honestly, it wasn't really hard. He seemed to love talking about you
"I think I'm giving up, Tabito" Karasu knew Otoya was being serious when he called him by his first name
"Giving up on what, exactly?" Karasu said. He knew what it was, of course. It was you who needed to know it, too.
"On my dream to be a dinosaur nanny" Otoya glared at him "Of course I'm talking about (Name)!"
"But I thought you liked her?" Karasu crossed his arms, getting closer to the bathroom so you could hear the conversation easier
"I do!" Otoya shouted, and Karasu could hear your quiet gasp on the other side of the door, he just hoped Otoya couldn't hear it too "God, I like her so much. I want nothing more than to hold her hand, go on idiotic picnics with her, go skating together, gaze at the stars by her side again" Otoya passed his hand through his hair, frustrated "Do you have any idea how down bad I am? I'm listening nonstop to our shared playlist and all. I just want to at least talk to her, man!"
"And why don't you tell her that?" Karasu said, knocking quietly on the door of the bathroom. He hoped you got the memo
"Because she won't talk to me?" Otoya said in a suspecting voice "Dude, you know that. You're acting strange"
"I don't think you should worry about telling her that anymore" Karasu heard the door unlocking. He smirked, then stepped aside. "I think she already heard it"
"How do you..." Otoya started, but stopped when the door opened and he saw you "Oh."
"...hi" you muttered, averting his gaze
He was sure he was burning up, reder than a tomato, and his brain screamed for him to go dig a hole and bury himself. But he knew he couldn't.
He was gonna fix this. Right now.
"(Name)" he said, looking right at you "We need to talk"
"I'm gonna give you privacity" Karasu said, exiting the room
For a while, you both just stared at each other, uncomfortable. The tension in the room could be sliced with a knife, and you both seemed to forget how to speak.
"I'm sorry" you broke the silence, looking down "I should've given you a chance to explain yourself. It was immature of me and..."
"You're sorry?" Otoya asked, dumbfounded "No, no. You don't get to be sorry. I'm sorry." He said, getting closer "This is my fault. I shouldn't have cheated on other girls. And I couldn't hate myself more for it. You have every right to be mad at me" he hesitantly grabbed your hands, and you let him "But just know I've changed. I've changed because I like you. Really, really like you. You heard me saying it. It hurts me to see you ignoring me. It physically pains me to see you glare at me or walk the other way when you see me. It makes me hate myself. It makes me wish I could just go back in the past and beat past me up" you giggled a little, and he finally smiled softly "But a wise friend once said that we can't change the past. Nothing can. What we can do is fix the future. And, frankly, (Name), when I look into my future" he gently grabbed your chin, making you look at him "the only thing I can clearly see is you in it."
"Eita" You were sure you were tearing up at this point. Chemistry project long forgotten "I like you, too." You smiled, cupping his cheek "I've liked ever since I first saw you. I'll always like you. But I was scared. Scared that you'd break my heart. Scared that you'd hurt me" you sniffled "Everyone said I made a great choice by letting you go. But if it's the right choice, why does it feel so wrong?"
"(Name)" Otoya muttered "I love you"
"I love you too, Eita" you smiled, leaning in
When your lips were about to touch, you leaned back a little
"Promise not to hurt me?"
He looked at your eyes, and this time you knew exactly what he was thinking. His mind was full with his love for you
"Only a fool would hurt a girl like you"
You then closed the distance, ignoring Karasu's cheers and how the kiss tasted like salty tears.
Nothing mattered anymore. Only you two.
This relationship was going to work. Otoya would do everything in his power to make sure of it.
Tumblr media
123 notes · View notes
lavenderovercast · 3 days ago
Text
FINE DINING
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: shota has an unconventional way of helping you calm your nerves down when you're feeling out of your element at a party. relationships: fem!reader x shota aizawa tags & warnings: !! 18+ CONTENT, MINORS DNI !! established relationship, public sex, cunnilingus // fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, praise kink BABY, u get talked thru it <3 🍑 prefer to read on ao3? well, lookie here! 🍑
Tumblr media
While you’re far from shy, you have never been a fan of parties. Not only because they have other people, but because you have to put so much effort into them. Especially when it’s something like a gala or ball, which you have… No experience with. Because of this fact, you’re holed up in some corner with a cocktail in hand and anxiety in your chest.
You smile at the occasional stranger you make eye contact with, but for the most part pray that no one actually notices you or takes the time to talk with you. It feels like your tongue might try to fall out of your mouth if you use it right now. 
Your outfit doesn’t help the situation much, either. It’s a lovely gown, really— with glitter tastefully applied to the fabric in a way that makes the clothing feel dreamy. And you know that you look good in the damned thing too, because the slit down the leg and the sweetheart neckline complimented you wonderfully when you looked in the mirror.
So it’s not a matter of discomfort with your outfit, but rather the fanciness of it all. It doesn’t feel like you belong, try as you might. 
“Nervous?” 
“You could tell?” You ask playfully, eyebrows lifting as you peek up at your husband over the rim of your glass. His lips twitch a little at your question, but he only nods his head in confirmation. 
“Kind of hard not to when I’ve watched you down multiple cocktails now.” He replies, making your smirk drop. Eesh, maybe you should keep track of how much you’re drinking. Or maybe this place just needs better liquor, because this is not helping. You roll your eyes in reply, lips twitching into the tiniest of smiles. 
“Yeah, well,” You mumble into your glass, averting your gaze sheepishly. “I’m not really used to… Any of this.” You make a vague gesturing motion, and then clear your throat before taking another sip of your alcohol. From beside you, Shota gives an acknowledging hum, his expression thoughtful. 
“I’ve got an idea,” Shota states, making your eyebrows raise quizzically. Your expression shows your skepticism, because he offers a smirk as he continues. “Meet me in the restroom. It’s nothing bad, I promise.” 
You’re quiet for a moment, intrigued by the man’s vagueness and mildly concerned as to what he could have in mind. But you trust Shota with your life, so you let your lips quirk up into a little smile as you nod your head. He seems satisfied with your response, slipping away from you. Naturally, you follow after the man— making sure to keep some distance to have some subtlety. 
When you make it to the restroom about a minute after Shota does, you close the door behind you with a gentle ‘click’, looking at the man with curiosity. He’s leaned over the counter now, seemingly fixing up some of the dishevelled strands of his hair. A rare and interesting sight to bear witness to. Before you can comment on the action, though, he catches your gaze in the mirror. 
You smile in return, making your way closer to the man so you can wrap your arms around him. Chest pressed against his back, you tilt your head up with a hum. “So… Are you going to tell me the reason why you’ve brought me into the restroom?” 
Shota gives a hum, as though he’s considering how to answer you. Knowing him, he’s just doing it to prolong whatever amusement he’s taking from your squirming and curiosity. You can see it in the way the corners of his lips subtly curve up, until he shifts so he’s turned to face you. Rough fingers gently grasp your chin before his lips are on yours. 
A soft noise leaves you when he kisses you, your lips tugging into the smallest of smiles against his mouth. You hum, snaking your arms around the man’s neck as your eyes slip closed. You’re not really sure of where this is going, because it’s… Different of Shota to act so affectionately in public.
Well, if you could consider this public, anyway. It’s probably the closest you’re getting to any PDA, and you are perfectly content with that thought.
When your kiss only deepens, his teeth nipping carefully at your bottom lip, is when your suspicion and confusion, with a healthy dose of curiosity, really begins to rise. You’re able to push your suspicions and rising emotions to the back of your mind until you feel yourself being gently backed up.
You give a muffled squeak in surprise when your lower back gently hits the counter, moving a hand from Shota so you can try to stabilize yourself by gripping the edge. 
To be truthful, this position on this counter is awfully familiar to you. Something about Shota has, since very early on in your relationship, seemed to magnetically draw you into the man. To the point that him pressing you up against a counter like this is familiar. There’s a big difference with this time around though, because you’re in public. Shota clearly doesn’t mind this fact, but you want a moment to decide if you do. 
Cold hands brush against his wrists, careful fingers wrapping around them before pulling his hands off of your person. With his hands go his sweet lips and bitter tongue, and as per usual, it’s difficult to convince yourself to stay away from him. Even when you know something is up, and now your suspicions are waving around red flags. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, and you can imagine there’s some worry in the way he observes you—as if he’s afraid he’s made you feel uncomfortable. But he’s always had a way of making you feel safe and secure, so you’re blunt with your questioning. 
“What the hell are you doing?” You question, raising your eyebrows at the man. Shota blinks, and then shrugs his shoulders a little. You swear you can see him fighting off a smile, the cheeky bastard he can be. 
“You’re tense,” Shota observes as though you haven’t known the fact for the whole night. “I can help.” 
“In a public bathroom?” You question with a quizzical eyebrow, tilting your head up to look at the man. There’s a mischievous smirk on his face as he nods— cheeky bastard. You feel the skin on your face grow hot as you squint your eyes at him. “You really want to take that risk?” 
“Sure,” He hums nonchalantly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He places a chaste kiss against your skin, and you have to dig your nails into your palms to avoid shivering at the sensation. Shota really does know all the ways to make you melt. “Long as we’re quiet… They won’t even notice we’re gone.” 
You bite your lip, considering the pros and cons of getting frisky in a restroom. There’s a beat of hesitation on your end as you spare a glance to the locked door. The worst that can happen is someone knocks, so… Fuck it, why not. 
“For a hero, you sure like finding trouble.” You mumble playfully, your own lips tilting up into a smile before your gaze drifts to Shota’s lips. Those familiar feelings of love and want come hurtling back into your chest, and you find yourself leaning forward on your tiptoes. All so you can wrap your arms around the man’s neck and tilt your head up to him. Shota looks amused. 
“Mmm, only with you.” Is his mumbled response, and you can’t help flashing a grin before pressing your lips to his. With the urgency he was displaying earlier, you’re pleasantly surprised by the gentleness the man expresses as he leans into you, lips moving carefully against your own. The faint taste of alcohol and mint floods your tongue. In any other situation, you’d joke about the mint. 
The kiss is over as quickly as it’s started. Shota’s breath is hot against your skin as he presses his face into your neck, where you can feel him smiling against your now clammy skin. Adrenaline is beginning to pump through your veins, and you’d be a liar if you said that you weren’t very interested in doing this now. Any anxiety that you might still have is thrown out of your mind when Shota begins to kiss your neck. 
It takes him no time at all to find the sweet spot that has your fingers digging into the edge of the counter, your breath catching at the little sparks that flitter across your skin. You can hear a deep chuckle rumble from the man, but he doesn’t say anything as he focuses on leaving little hickies and marks across your previously unblemished skin. Unfortunately, this is a fact that you aren’t dwelling on. 
No, instead, you focus on the fact that his hands have wandered to your hips to pick you up and place you on the counter. Your legs dangle off the edge, but the surface seems stable enough. Shota’s hands are quick to wander from your hips to your thighs, a satisfied noise coming from him as his mouth comes off of your neck. 
You feel the dress being pulled up by Shota’s careful hands, and suck in a sharp breath when they wander up the skirt to your panties. He’s happy to pull them off and you’re happy to lift your hips a little so he can do so with ease. You’re even more happy when calloused fingers find your clit nearly immediately, making your mouth part open into a soft ‘O’ shape as your brain goes fuzzy with need. 
Little sparks and tingles dash across your skin as Shota sets a careful pace, familiar with what you prefer when it comes to these exchanges by now. He applies little pressure at first, and rubs slow, tight circles to start building you up. It’s when he starts to pick up the pace that you give a soft moan, much to his satisfaction. He seems to take it as his signal to pump a finger into your pussy, pleased with just how wet you are for him. 
Like always, he’s methodical and careful not to hurt you. He works his finger in and out of you slowly, causing more of those sparks and friction to light a fire in your belly. It’s when he inserts another finger that he starts to pick up the pace again, slowly stretching out your pussy with his digits. There’s the familiar sensation of adjusting to him, a dull ache that you’ve always enjoyed. 
“Fuck, Shota…” You pant, eyes growing half-lidded as you lean your head against his own. It’s hard to focus, despite how much you want to praise him for this pleasure. He hums, and you can feel him leave a gentle kiss against your skin. Something about his sweetness only makes the fire in your belly, your need for him, grow. 
“So fucking pretty for me,” Shota huffs into your neck, the words sending a rush of heat over your person. You can feel yourself clench around his fingers as he pumps them in your pussy, cooing softly as he stretches you out. “Look at my good girl.” 
The praise doesn’t fall on deaf ears. You give a little whine, pleased with the words rolling so sweetly off of Shota’s tongue as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. You feel him nuzzle his face against your head, whispered praises continuing to flood your hearing as your hips buck into his moving fingers.
You’ve fucked before, of course, but this is a different experience. In comparison to past encounters, it’s far more intense with the risk of being caught. 
And when Shota’s fingers curl in a ‘come hither’ motion that leaves his fingers grazing against your g-spot, you can’t help the pitchy whine that leaves your mouth. The sound causes Shota to lift his free hand so he can cover your mouth, but the low groan that you hear coming from somewhere deep in his chest tells you that he enjoyed the sound. 
His fingers don’t stop as he gently scolds you, voice raspy against your ear. “Gotta stay quiet.” The statement makes you huff softly, wanting to retaliate. He’s the one that had the idea to bring you both in here, why should he also be teasing you? Normally, you would tell him to be quiet—but your mind feels a little too foggy from the feeling of his thick fingers in your pussy to form words, let alone argue with him. 
You only manage to nod instead, tongue fat and heavy in your mouth again. Words would fail to describe how fucking badly you want the man to just push you up against the counter and fuck you silly right now, so you seem to subconsciously do your best to rip a hole into Shota’s shirt instead. You can’t help anchoring yourself to him, your fingers dug so harshly into the fabric of his shirt that your knuckles start to turn white as the pleasure increases. 
“That’s it. You’re doing good.” Shota coos, and another shiver runs up your spine. It takes everything in you not to whine, instead opting to dig your teeth into your bottom lip with a muffled sound.
It becomes increasingly more difficult to control your volume, however, when you watch your lover shift his weight so he can kneel in front of you. Rough hands grab at the hem of your dress, and your breath catches as he pulls them up just enough to reveal your pussy to the man. 
Shota doesn’t seem all that interested in keeping his mouth off of you for any longer than necessary, however. A blessing in disguise, really, because you think you would go crazy if his lips didn’t immediately start pressing hot kisses against your inner thighs. His hands move to your knees, carefully spreading your legs apart as you shift your weight on the counter. A gentle squeeze reminds you to be patient. 
It’s only when you are still that Shota comes closer to your aching cunt, his tongue feeling heavenly when he finally buries his face between your legs like he belongs there. Your breathing quickens as your hands lift to his head, fingers now digging into the man’s hair as his nose brushes against your clit.
His tongue laps at you for only a moment before he dives right in, his hands squeezing where they grasp you just a little tighter than they had before. 
Shota laps at you like a man starved, seemingly as desperate as you feel right now. The noises that are starting to fill the room are downright filthy, wet and obscene in a way that would typically embarrass you. But goddammit, does Shota’s tongue feel like heaven— and goddammit are you so very turned on by the eager groans that he’s providing you as he drinks you up. 
You still have enough sense in your lust-addled brain to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound now threatening to rise up from your chest at the contact. Your anxiety at the thought of being caught in this lewd act is more prevalent than it was earlier, but it’s hard to try and stop the man when his tongue is buried in your cunt like this. The best you can do is try to make sure that you won’t be caught. 
A calloused finger finds its way back to your pussy, and you can’t help the low, muffled whine that slips past your lips again. You press your palm harder against your mouth in a desperate attempt to keep yourself quiet.
Shota seems more than pleased with himself, though, and you can imagine that the man would be smirking if he could. His tongue moves against your clit at an eager pace, his moving fingers matching the speed of the muscle in a way that makes your head spin. 
It’s just the right amount of friction and pressure to make you feel absolutely boneless, a skill that Shota has perfected over years of being with you. Your orgasm approaches quickly and suddenly, making little stars fill the corners of your vision as you gasp. A wave of heat and sparks comes rushing over you, and you can feel yourself shaking as your hips buck into Shota’s face.
Your fingers dig into the dark locks of hair on his head, nails barely grazing his scalp. You can hear a pleased groan from the man in front of you as he laps at you like you’re his last meal. 
The feeling subsides slowly, but leaves you trying to catch your breath as your grasp on Shota’s head loosens, before you’re gently running your fingers through your lover’s hair. His tongue doesn’t stop lapping at your overstimulated cunt until you’re gently pushing him away, your entire body suddenly feeling like jelly from your intense orgasm.
You’re a little nervous that you won’t be able to stand on your own, especially when Shota rises back to his full height and slots himself between your legs. He’s gentle as he brushes some hair from your face with his fingers. 
“Do you feel better?” Shota questions, his face warm with subtle affection. The sight of it makes you smile as you give a slow nod.  
“Sort of,” You mumble lazily, reaching a hand up to catch his wrist so you can press your head into the palm of his hand. “Might need to get my hands on you again when we get home, though…” 
Shota raises his eyebrows at you, and then chuckles as he tilts his head to yours. A gentle kiss on the forehead, and then the subtlest of smirks comes crawling over his face. “Well, I’m glad that was just an appetizer then.”
71 notes · View notes
r1nnae · 15 hours ago
Text
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | GREEN TEA? yu jimin x fem reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: not proofread, cursing
Tumblr media
Ever since you were a kid you've always dreamt of becoming a singer, preferably a k-pop idol, you would always stand in front of the TV, singing and dancing along to the different choreography and songs.
Everyone always told you that it was a waste of time and that you should focus on your studies and getting into a great university instead.
At first their words did have an affect on your choice in career, but all it took for you to get back in track with all the k-pop stuff was just a singular concert from your favourite group.
It was like the little you was waiting for another spark of hope and that's literally all it took.
You secretly sent a few audition videos to different agencies and waited impatiently, you would tell your family right after you got your answers back.
A few weeks went by and after not getting back any response, you actually started to think back on your parents words and the dissapointment about yourself started to sink in.
However, that didn't last long as you got back response from all of the agencies a few days later, and to your total surprise all of them was telling you that you got accepted.
But, there was a specific agency that was pulling at your heart, so you decided to get back to it only.
HYBE entertainment.
And, thats how became a member of a now well-known girl group, LE SSERAFIM.
Yes, it was hard at first but you still fought very hard for your spot in this group, and believed that you one-hundred percent deserved it.
Anyways, lets get back to the recent events and stop talking about the past.
You were currently getting ready to walk inside an award show venue, fixing up your hair and snapping a few selfies.
"Aah, I'm so nervous!" Kazuha exclaimed next to you, wrapping her arms around shoulder.
"Don't be nervous, it's not like we're here for the first time, right?" You reassured, patting her on the head while trying not to mess up the hairstyle.
"I know, but it somehow feels like a first time," she sighed, straightening up and looking outside the window and into the swarm of fans screaming and waving towards our van.
"Come on, it's okay, we can do it!" Chaewon yelled, making us all laugh.
Suddenly the van door opened and our manager peeped her head inside, "It's time."
We all smiled and started getting off of the car one by one.
The fans started screaming like crazy, shouting all your names at once and asking for photos.
You waved at them, sending smiles and winks their way, occasionally getting close to them and posing for their photos or videos, praying that your manger didn't notice you.
Once you were finally inside, you sighed and went to your seats as all the other groups started coming in.
Tumblr media
Performance after performance, you clapped, laughed and sang along to a few songs the groups performed, doing your own part and finally it was time for awards.
You won a few awards and gave a heartfelt speech every time, but now it was end of the show, so you decided to go grab a drink on your own.
Approaching the vending machine, you prayed that there was some green tea left and to your luck there was only one left.
You quickly took it and prepared to drink when you saw someone approaching, the person probably didn't see you as she was in a conversation with another person next to her.
As they got closer you recognized them, karina and winter from aespa.
"I wish there's some green tea left," you heard karina exclaim, and you looked down in your hands in guilt.
"You and your green tea obsession," winter teased.
As they got closer, you saw karina's face turn into a frown.
"There are no more green tea left," winter rolled her eyes, smiling sheepishly.
"Oh, you're so tired, aren't you? And only thing you really wanted right now, isn't left," Karina gave her a side eye, chuckling.
"Oh, um, hi," they turned towards you, "i overheard you conversation and um, since you really like green tea, you can have this."
Karina's eyes widened in shock, while winter just grinned.
"No, no, it's okay," karina refused, looking down at green tea in your extended hands.
"No, please take it, I'm not that thirsty anyway," you smile, pushing the bottle in her hands.
Karina was about to protest again, when winter spoke, "rina, it's rude to refuse something when someones offering it to you."
Karina glared at her, but took the green tea nonetheless, "thank you, sorry for being an inconvenience."
"No, you could never," you smiled, bowing as you prepared to leave.
"Um, can i have your number, y/n?" You were surprised that she knew your name, but even more surprised when you realized what she just said.
"My number?" Karina nodded, smiling nervously, "okay, i guess."
She quickly extended her phone, waiting as you typed you number in.
"Well, thanks for the green tea, and, your number," she chuckled, that made you smile.
"It's no problem, it was nice to meet you," you bid your goodbyes, and went seperate ways.
Tumblr media
"Dude, i saw that, how were you not peeing your pants?!" Yunjin asked as soon as you rounded a corner.
"Dude, i don't fucking know! I was shaking mentally!" You yelled, making her laugh.
----
"Guess, whose number karina got?" Winter announced as soon as they reached their can, smirking slightly.
"Whose?" Aeri asked, looking up from her phone.
Winter's smirk deepened, raising her eyebrows at two girls in front of her.
"No way!" Ningning yelped suddenly, "she wouldn't have balls to do that!"
"Well," karina coughed, showing her phone to other two.
"Dude, you got your crushes number!" Karina rolled her eyes, but she giggled nevertheless.
Tumblr media
A/n: first work, so don't judge too hard! Requests are open, cuz i have no idea what to write, anon emojis are also open, if anyone would like! Anyways, hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to like, comment, give feedback and reblog, it helps spread my work through the platform♡!
61 notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 1 day ago
Text
— CHRYSALIS (II)
Tumblr media
PART ONE
PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Vala/half-Elf!Reader (Morgoth's Daughter)
SUMMARY — Mairon is scheming to take over the armies of Morgoth. With his old master's daughter by his side he considers his claims to be legitimised, although he has to admit that her mood swings scare him sometimes. Well, one thing is certain – his wife keeps him on his toes. And their enemies are many, even amongst their own Lieutenants.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's been some time since part one but I needed a short break and I'm not going to lie but I have been distracted... Those of you who follow me, know already that I have a massive crush on Jack Lowden now... 🤣 It is honestly funny to me because I've known about this guy for years (he was even in one of my favourite TV shows ever aka War & Peace) but it was this one scene of the loser Sauron that pushed me into having a crush??? Seriously?! Anyway, yeah... I've been watching movies with him and at the moment I am in the middle of Slow Horses. Just saying because I have a feeling it is going to end up with a fanfic... 💀 Big shoutout and thanks to @olchr-1 because their comments under my fics about Mairon and Morgoth always inspire me! 💚
WARNINGS — toxic relationship (they're mutually toxic to each other), mentions of Morgoth's abuse towards Sauron, Reader is kinda unhinged (she is Morgoth's daughter, ok? what did you expect?), murder (as in – she murders [an Orc] AND she gets murdered), she's some sort of a ghost in the end (idk if it's a trigger but I'm writing it down in case it is...)
WORD COUNT — 6,140
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
Tumblr media
CHRYSALIS (II)
“I do. I can see inside your mind.”
Mairon felt a shiver travelling down his spine at those words. (Y/N) had a sweet smile on her face but it still felt somehow sinister and embarrassing after realising she could have felt all his scheming regarding her.
“Do not be scared!” She whined and giggled as she brushed his ginger hair to put it behind his pointy ear. “I like you the way you are.”
Mairon cracked a smile at her and put his hands on her waist to pull her closer and join their lips together. The kiss started softly but it quickly turned into a heated one. (Y/N) moaned into his mouth and he groaned, pushing aside all the things on the table behind her to pick her up and sit her up on top of it.
Her fingers tangled in his hair and he could hear her heartbeat fastening as his shaky hands travelled to her back where he started to tug onto the lacing of her gown.
But at that, (Y/N) flinched and Mairon broke the kiss, taking a step back and looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She refused to meet his gaze and looked over his shoulder at the still unfinished item behind him.
“I think you still have work to finish, my husband,” she pointed out sweetly and how could he ever be angry at her when she addressed him so beautifully?
Mairon nodded at her and leaned in to steal one more kiss from her but this time it was only a peck on the lips.
He walked away from her to go back to reforging her father’s crown to fit him and she took off her leather apron and folded it neatly before putting it on the desk and leaving the forge without a word.
Mairon wondered quietly what was the reason for her sudden shyness when it came to being physical. How much had she witnessed about her parents’ relationship? And what had it been like?
Or perhaps (Y/N) was simply shy because she had been sheltered for her whole life.
Either way, she had agreed to share her life with him and that was enough for him. To have her close, to show her off as his – Melkor’s daughter, the heiress of darkness. She had chosen him – Mairon – to be her husband. There was no better legitimation for his coronation than this.
He finished his work and the sun was slowly setting in the sky although it was barely visible in their land of snow and cold either way. Mairon took off his apron and fixed his hair before taking the newly reforged crown and taking it to his chambers because he would never leave it unsupervised. Proud of his creation, he walked past (Y/N)’s chambers but he did not bother to check on her. She clearly needed her space now and he decided to give it to her.
After entering his chambers, though, Mairon froze at the sight of (Y/N) laying in his bed and smiling at him gently. She was wearing nothing but a beautiful nightgown made out of a sheer fabric that left very little to his imagination. Mairon swallowed a lump in his throat at the sight.
“I… I have finished,” he told her and placed the crown on top of a dresser, scared of her opinion as he usually was when it came to his craft.
“I can see. It is beautiful, you are very talented with your hands, my Sauron,” she whispered, surprisingly sweet, and Mairon smiled nervously at the praise before turning around to face her.
“Where did you get a nightgown like this?” He asked. After all, all her clothes had been gifts from him and he would never dare to give her such a thing before.
“So… You like it?” She giggled and Mairon’s heart skipped a beat. She had no idea how much he did. Or maybe she did – after all, she could get inside his head. “I know you do, my husband,” she sighed, “but I would like you to say it.”
“I… I do,” Mairon nodded and cleared his throat before sitting on the edge of his bed and carefully reaching his hand out to caress her cheek. “I like it. Very much,” he assured her. 
Oh, how the tables turned. Who was shy now?
When Mairon’s hand lowered and briefly touched (Y/N)’s nightgown, it suddenly disappeared completely, dissolved into air and there she was, naked for him. He looked into her eyes and she chuckled.
“So, it worked,” she whispered, proud of herself. “I learnt from you how to do it,” she confessed and sat up to cling to him and join their lips together in a kiss but this time it was him who was mostly sitting there, petrified to witness her being like that. “I’m sorry, am I doing something wrong?” (Y/N) furrowed her brow and moved away a little, shyly, visibly feeling embarrassed of herself.
And when she was like this, he felt way more confident. Mairon straightened his back and shook his head gently.
“No, my love, not at all. It’s just that I…” He took a deep breath in.
“That you’re a Maia, you were born to serve and not to experience such carnal desires,” she nodded and he closed his mouth. “And yet you do and you are confused but I know the answer.”
“You do?” Mairon inquired.
“I need you,” she breathed out and once more she moved closer to him to kiss the corner of his mouth as her hands caressed his neck with her fingertips. “And you love me. You serve me, Sauron. Therefore, when I need you, your flesh answers to my calling.”
And now it was him flinching at her words and she moved back once more, looking at him with confusion written all over her terrifyingly beautiful features.
“I’m sorry, I…” He fixed his hair with trembling hands as he looked away.
How could he tell her that when she was like this she reminded him of her father and it was not in the way he wanted to remember him? How could he tell her that it nearly scared him and it surely was not helping his desire? 
Melkor had reforged him the same way Mairon reforged his crown – his old self had been melted and twisted in the most wicked ways. But admitting it to her now would be humiliating.
When she was a shy, innocent maiden – he felt confident enough to give in to his desires and to devour her. But when she was showing confidence and was becoming needy herself – greedy for him and his service like his master once had been… He was simply shutting down.
“I would never hurt you, Sauron,” she whispered and he turned his head around to look at her, a little frustrated with the fact that she had been inside his head again – especially at a moment like that. “I would never hurt you first, that is,” she added. “And you have no reason to be embarrassed in front of me. I am your wife and your Queen,” she added.
“I want to be worthy of you but I do not think I ever will be…” He confessed, finally voicing out the fear he had been having for centuries now – from the moment he had seen her for the first time.
“Oh, but my sweet Sauron, do you not know…?” (Y/N) chuckled lovingly and moved closer to him once more but very slowly and carefully this time. She cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs before leaning in to rub her nose with his. “I know you will never be and I still like you,” she smiled, probably thinking her words cheered him up but they only broke his heart.
Because what was her love then? Did she love him because he was a good pet? The most loyal servant? Was her love as wicked as her father’s?
“I am my mother’s daughter, too,” she reminded him and kissed his forehead. “I can be sweet and gentle with you, kiss every part of your flesh, every part my father hurt and twisted… Let me heal it,” she breathed out.
He would certainly let her try.
Tumblr media
The fortress was the most quiet during the day because the Orcs mostly slept at that time. Mairon and (Y/N) laid in his bed for hours now, facing each other with their limbs tangled and noses brushing as they exchanged sweet kisses and her fingers caressed his hair.
“You are the most extraordinary creature I have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathed out.
“I know,” she smirked. “When will we leave here? I want to see the world,” her eyes sparkled.
“Do you really want to see it or perhaps you can’t wait for the world to fall on its knees at the sight of you?” Mairon wondered teasingly and she chuckled.
“I am aware the realms you will take me to are far from perfect but I will shape them to fit my will and vision,” she said. “And for that, they will build me altars.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then you will certainly make sure they do,” she smirked sweetly but her eyes filled with mischief.
Mairon moved his head up slightly to kiss her on the mouth instead of making a promise with his words. Then, he laid down on the pillow and sighed at the sight of the reforged crown of Morgoth on top of his dresser.
“I will forge you a crown, too. I have an idea for its design already,” he promised. “And then, we will coronate ourselves and marshal our legions out of here.”
“I am shutting myself out of your mind then,” (Y/N) giggled. “I want the design to be a surprise,” she explained and kissed his cheek.
He couldn’t help the feeling that he indeed was her pet but perhaps she would be a much kinder owner than her father had been.
Tumblr media
Tasarë woke up and leaned on the barren, dry tree as she sighed at the sight of the huge fortress in the horizon. They would arrive there in the afternoon on that day but she had not seen it last night due to the darkness. Now, in the hazy morning she was able to see what was awaiting her – the dreadful place and even more dreadful master within its walls. 
“Why me?” She asked Mairon while he was watching her with a mix of pity and relief that his task would be done soon.
“He saw you in my memories,” he confessed. She deserved to know the truth now, at the very end of their road together.
“You were that huge werewolf watching me in the forest,” Tasarë chuckled and shook her head. “I sensed your eyes on me.”
“And that was your demise. You know what they say – curiosity killed the cat,” Mairon crossed his arms and stood by her side, looking at the fortress ahead of them with pride.
“Why were you staring at me?” Tasarë inquired and Mairon shrugged his arms. He truly did not know.
“Something drew me in. Perhaps it was your fate,” he explained cruelly.
Cruelly, because what could this young and innocent maiden possibly have done to deserve such punishment?
“Please,” she took off her humble ring with a ruby stone on it, “take it,” she offered it to him as her eyes filled with tears.
“What is the meaning behind this gesture?” Mairon raised his eyebrows, a little mockingly staring at the ring in her trembling hand.
“I want you to keep it, a memory of me,” she explained. “A memory of who I am now, before your master bends me to his will,” she added and Mairon swallowed thickly at her words. “Please,” she begged and he finally took the ring from her hand and caressed it with his fingers.
“Why are you giving this to me? It was me who brought this down upon you and it was me delivering you to him,” Mairon asked, confused.
“Who am I supposed to give it to?” She asked and laughed through the tears as she looked around. No one else was there. Then, her face became serious again. “I can still feel the light of Valinor deep within you,” she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible and a shiver went down his spine at her words. “You are a Maia. An emissary of the Valar.”
“I serve only one of them,” he explained.
“Whatever. You just do what you were made for – you serve,” she nodded and turned her head around, leaving his head a mess.
Her words were an explanation why she couldn’t hate him completely. But they also were an insulting reminder that he was nothing compared to his master – he was replaceable and meaningless.
“We should go,” he muttered and hid the ring inside one of his pockets.
Tumblr media
Mairon played with Tasarë’s ring between his fingers for one last time before breaking it apart in his forge to extract the red ruby stone and put it in (Y/N)’s crown. Made of her father’s iron and decorated with her mother’s stone, it was pretty humble and smaller than Mairon’s but he made sure it looked as intimidating as his own.
He did not mean to insult his wife with its design – quite the contrary. Her power was of the raw kind and she did not need any further decorations. Unlike him, humbly Maia who was constantly trying to hide the fact he still felt like a nobody. And he knew he would not have to explain it to her because she would know – she could read his mind, after all.
When the crown was forged, he took it carefully into his hands and carried it back to the chambers he was sharing now with her. (Y/N) was standing by the window and staring outside, sighing at the only sight she had ever known – endless snow and cold.
“When will we leave here, Sauron?” She asked with a whine.
“Soon, my darling. Very soon. Look what I have for you,” she smiled gently and could feel his cheeks burning.
This, so far, was the most significant gift he had ever given her. Perhaps even while proposing to her he had not been so nervous.
She turned around and he held his breath, waiting for her opinion and he knew that she was a cruel judge of his presents and craft.
(Y/N)’s eyes widened and she froze for a moment before approaching him to take a better look.
“It surely holds lots of power,” she nodded as her fingertips caressed the ruby of the crown. She smiled to herself, sensing her mother as she looked at her husband’s face, finding his eyes. She searched his mind to look for the explanation and then she nodded at him. “Did you love my mother?” She asked, suddenly.
Mairon’s heart skipped a beat.
“She was not mine to love,” he only answered.
“And I am?” (Y/N)’s eyes sparkled cruelly. She could have promised him hundreds of times she would never hurt him but sometimes her father’s nature would overtake her in those little moments, keeping him on his toes. He did not believe her promises at all.
In fact, he was quite scared of his own wife. But that was the price he had to pay for binding himself to such a powerful creature just to be able to bask in her light and to use her power to increase his own influence.
“I understand that you do not like the crown,” he admitted his defeat, looking down.
“On the contrary. It is splendid. Your finest work so far, husband,” she explained and took the item gently from his hands as he laid his eyes on her once more – his needy, yearning gaze, desperate for her praise. “It is simple and humble and yet so powerful, detailed and exquisite. It takes real talent of the greatest craftsman to forge such a beauty,” she admitted and put it onto her head before turning around to look at herself in the mirror. She was smiling and Mairon took a deep breath out of relief.
“I shall inform Adar to gather his armies for our coronation,” Mairon bowed his head slightly.
“Do we need an official coronation? In front of these… creatures?” (Y/N) winced. “We can do whatever we want, can we not?”
“Yes, of course we can,” Mairon cleared his throat. What he really meant was that she could do whatever she wanted. But even that was not entirely true because her lack of experience would soon overshadow her natural inheritance. “It will just send a message to all the right people and look more significant in their eyes if we go through with the whole ceremony.”
“We did not have any ceremony for our wedding,” she pointed out. “You truly show your priorities now, dear husband.”
“Marriage is a sacred and intimate union, I do not care for the audience when it comes to it. My love and devotion are only for you to see,” he answered.
“I understand,” she nodded and turned her head around to look directly into his eyes instead of reading his face from the mirror’s reflection. “But on the next day after our coronation we are leaving this place. And we are never coming back here.”
“Yes, my Lady,” Mairon nodded.
“In fact, I have a perfect usage for the North,” she shrugged her arms and looked back into the mirror to adjust the crown on her head and admire herself.
“And that is…?” Mairon furrowed his brows, a little scared of her answer.
“It will be a perfect prison for our enemies, it is going to be where we will send those who refuse to follow us,” she smiled.
“Why would we not simply kill them?” Mairon wondered out loud. That seemed like a waste of resources.
“And where is the fun in that?” She huffed, reminding him of her father once more.
And then, she reminded him of Melkor even more because she added the line his old master had often been repeating:
“You are too stiff. One of the best things about holding power is that we set the rules and we can make them as enjoyable as we wish.”
Tumblr media
They completed each other. His robes were red and heavily decorated with golden elements and details such as chains and embroidered words in black speech. Her robes were the same, only golden with red thread and red decorations. Together they presented themselves very regal but it was very clear which one of them held more power even though she was standing behind him with her hands clasped behind her back.
(Y/N) could feel Adar’s eyes on her, eyeing her up and down constantly but as much as she tried to get inside his mind, he was pushing her away. It was nearly embarrassing that she could not get through but there were things her husband did not know of – for example that her power was not as vast as he thought. 
With proper training, perhaps one day she could live up to the image he had of her inside his mind but the real reason why she could search through him so easily was because she shared a special bond with Mairon. Her father had left the door open within his servant’s broken and twisted mind and it was easy for her to sneak in now, especially when he was not really fighting her abilities back – trained like a good dog by Melkor to obey such infiltrating requests and just allow it to happen.
Adar was shaped by Melkor, too, but he was different. He held no love in his heart for his former master. And… simply – nearly embarrassingly simply – (Y/N) did not love him.
But she loved Mairon and he loved her. That was making the whole deal of reading his mind much easier.
She could only guess what Adar was thinking but she could sense some odd mix of pity and resentment upon his face whenever he looked at her. 
When the right time came, he nodded at her and she took a step ahead to touch her husband’s arm and squeeze it. He turned his head to glance at her with a soft smile.
“We can start now,” she whispered and he nodded.
“Are you sure you do not want to do this with me?” He asked.
“No, better not… I am not yet prepared to give speeches,” she took a few steps back again to hide a little in the shadows, as if it was possible while wearing such robes.
Mairon licked his lips and took a deep breath in before addressing the filthy creatures staring at him with widened eyes, curiously waiting for his words.
He nearly felt embarrassed that they were the army he was offering to his wife. She deserved real, powerful battalions. And she would have them very soon once they’d conquer more lands.
“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again,” he began, watching two Orcs carrying two crowns on black, velvet cushions. Once more, he winced a little at the realisation how humiliating it had to be for his wife to have her crown being carried to her by such a filthy creature. “Morgoth is gone,” he continued, “leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and fidgeted with his fingers, nervously. “Under me and my wife. Your new masters. Sauron and Lady (Y/N),” he introduced the woman the Orcs were the most curious about as he reached out his arm and she sighed, taking it and walking up to him to show herself although she had just asked him not to put her on display.
“What they say is true. My wife is a daughter of Morgoth,” Mairon announced, proudly and with a big grin on his face.
“And my husband – his most faithful and powerful Lieutenant,” (Y/N) announced, trying to legitimise his claims in the eyes of their army.
Perhaps she deserved it all more than him but the truth was that without his support she would not go far. He was far more experienced than her and he had been taking part in real battles for her father. 
“And with a new age, we bring you a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest,” Mairon promised, addressing the Orcs but squeezing his wife’s hand and she squeezed his back, sensing his nervousness. “For we seek a new kind of power,” he let go of her hand and raised his own as he spoke as if he was giving them all a lesson. (Y/N) clasped her hands on her abdomen, nearly humbly, but she remained right by his side this time without retreating to the shadows. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will,” Mairon explained.
The Orcs looked at each other and hummed to themselves, quite satisfied with such a promise. (Y/N) cracked a smile at her husband and he smiled back but his face went very serious again.
“Many Orcs will die,” he added and the atmosphere inside the room shifted immediately as the Orcs changed their humming into growling.
“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon tried to show some excitement while explaining his plan to the Orcs, hoping they would share his enthusiasm. After all, they were not very intelligent beings. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but the Orcs were not calmed down at all.
Malicious whispers in Black Speech echoed through the room – “Sauron lies”.
(Y/N) moved uncomfortably and glanced at her husband but he was too embarrassed to lay his eyes upon her as well. He was slowly starting to feel humiliated and to be humbled in front of her was nearly as dreadful as death. He was desperate to prove his worth to her, to make her see that he was truly a worthy successor of her father. But whatever he was proving now was the fact he was nothing but still his pathetic servant. A shadow of Melkor.
“Doubt me at your peril,” he continued but his voice slightly trembled out of nervousness and he clasped his hands in the same manner as his wife had clasped hers. However, he managed to lower his voice once more and make it sound dark again. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.
The Orcs’ growling did not stop. In fact it had gotten worse.
“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” Mairon ignored their unhappy reaction as he went on.
From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) spotted one of the Orcs standing nearby – chosen to be one of their personal guards – shifting slightly and she spotted a dagger in his hands.
“Watch out!” She gasped at her husband and took a step back, watching him turn around quite elegantly and slitting the Orc’s throat swiftly in self-defence.
The audience went completely quiet and (Y/N) blinked a few times at the sight. She had never witnessed her husband like that and if he cared so much about proving his worth – perhaps at this very moment he just had.
The Orc fell down to his knees, choking on his own blood. (Y/N) approached Mairon, feeling Adar’s intense gaze on her back. Her husband pulled the Orc even closer to himself and watched the life leaving his victim with fascination and resentment. (Y/N) tilted her head and watched, too.
And after a while, she reached for her own dagger and finished the assassin off with a few systematic and rough thrusts. After the last one, the Orc’s body fell down lifeless and bleeding. (Y/N) looked up into her husband’s eyes. She could sense he was surprised and impressed but he chose not to show it.
Mairon turned around to run his hands through his ginger hair that had gotten ruffled in the fight. He wanted to always present himself neatly in front of his followers, therefore he smoothed them in a nonchalant manner that also betrayed his nervousness.
(Y/N) did not bother to fix anything about her appearance while she hid her blade away without even wiping it. Her anger rose as she looked at the filthy army of the Orcs below them.
“We are your only future and our path is your only path!” She yelled at them, feeling her face swelling up with thick, black blood she inherited from her father’s cursed flesh he had been bound to. Another long silence occurred at her outburst and she felt herself calming down a little at the sight of the Orcs tilting their heads. Perhaps only now they had truly realised whose daughter she really was and that it was not wise to raise her anger. “Who among you dare say otherwise?” She asked, calmly.
No one dared to say anything, therefore she stood by Adar’s side and he took Mairon’s crown from one of the velvet cushions. Her husband was supposed to be crowned first and she cracked a smile at him once he was kneeling down, presenting himself nearly humbly as he waited for Morgoth’s reforged crown to be put onto his head.
The Orcs were growling and snarling when Adar raised the crown to show it to them but now, when (Y/N) had tasted their blood, she was not afraid to taste more. She would fight each one of them if she had to. It was her right. Her father had created them and they had no right to question her or her husband.
She had chosen Mairon to be her companion. Perhaps he had been manipulating her into this choice but, in the end, it had been entirely her decision to choose him despite everything. The only person in the whole world who had any right to question him was she. Nobody else.
She was about to become the Queen of Middle-earth and only the Queen could question her King Consort. The one she had chosen for herself.
She got a little dreamy thinking all these thoughts and spotted Mairon looking up to meet her gaze. He was so uncertain at the moment, so humiliated and so humble… Her heart clenched inside her chest as she sent him an encouraging and loving smile. It visibly soothed him and he looked down once more.
Perhaps he would never be truly worthy of her but still – out of all the men in Middle-earth – he was the most worthy one.
“All Hail, Lord Sauron and Lady (Y/N)!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord and The Dark Queen.”
A shiver of anticipation travelled down her body. Perhaps her husband would never be truly worthy of her but the truth was – she would not have been there if it was not for him. He made it all possible. He was the one to take her back from her father’s cold realm created to protect her. Because, genuinely, she was not sure if she had been able to get out of there alone.
She owed him everything just like he owed everything to her.
“All hail!” The Orcs chanted hesitantly and Adar walked up to Mairon.
(Y/N) watched Adar carefully – something was not right about him, something was very off-putting and very worrying. She furrowed her brows and then she realised what he was about to do after raising the crown up and turning it around in a swift movement, directing the iron spikes at Mairon.
“No!” She yelled and jumped into the front but a sharp pain in the abdomen stopped her from continuing.
“No!” It was Mairon’s turn to scream now as she looked down and saw the spikes of her father’s crown buried deep into her stomach. She raised her eyes and furrowed her brows at Adar – her assassin. There was satisfaction written all over his face.
“I pitied you… But you are just like him,” he whispered before taking the spikes out of her body and turning around to attack Mairon with them now. (Y/N) reached her hands out weakly but she fell to her knees and grabbed her hurt stomach.
She should not die easily – after all she was half a Vala. But she was also half an Elf and the Vala who was her father had been bound to his flesh. Therefore, an item so powerful was able to defeat her – or at least to destroy her flesh.
She choked at the blurred sight of her husband being pierced through with Morgoth’s crown and then a bunch of Orcs came at him. He was trying to fight them back bravely and get to her, shouting her name but it was all for nothing. There were too many of the Orcs keeping them apart and tearing him to pieces.
(Y/N) sobbed and Adar crouched down next to her, holding her chin up so her dying eyes could still see her husband’s torment.
“The legacy of your father is gone now,” Adar whispered right before she lost consciousness.
Tumblr media
When (Y/N) came back to reality, she felt her own presence but there was no shape nor flesh around it. She existed as a spirit and she found herself inside the very same hall she had been slain in but it was empty now. There were dark shadows where her body and her husband’s body had laid in the puddles of thick, black blood as anger filled her whole presence at the memory of betrayal.
She felt the cold wind coming inside through the doors and she was on her way outside, already trying to come up with what her next flesh would look like. She had lost the one she was given by birth – the one which actually looked like a mix of her mother and the body her father had been bound to. But now she would forge a new flesh for herself and she had to admit that was quite exciting. Perhaps without pointy ears this time – to blend in with the crowd.
Her plan was to leave the North and to go South. To join the humans and the Elves and all the other creatures living there – to meet them, to see how they lived, to learn their patterns and about the world she was supposed to rule one day.
Finally she would leave the land of the endless snow. Where once her father and then her husband had kept her as if she was their prisoner.
But as she moved closer and closer to the door, she felt a tugging presence within the walls of the abandoned fortress. Sauron.
He was still alive somehow – in a way – just like she was but much weaker and not as aware of his own self as she was. It was no surprise, after all he was only a Maia.
And if she left him now, perhaps he would never survive on his own.
(Y/N) froze right in front of the doors leading outside. She wanted to go, she really did. She had craved to see the world ever since she had been a little girl…
But she could not leave him. She could not leave Sauron. Her husband. 
She remembered his nervous smile, his fidgeting fingers, his ginger hair, his blushing cheeks. How he would steal delicate kisses from her, how they would lay in each other’s arms under the covers and whisper sweet things. How his eyelashes would brush the skin of her cheeks in the most intimate moments.
She could not leave him. He needed her.
Even though she was not sure if he would do the same thing for her.
And just like that, she retreated and went down to the dark, cold and damp corridors under the fortress. And even though she was capable of forging herself a new flesh much quicker than he was, she delayed it because she allowed his weak and pathetic form to feed off of her energy to keep him strong and alive. She was giving herself away to him – piece by piece, which was slowing down her own progress of forging new body but it was increasing the speed of his. And she nearly felt chained with her own devotion instead of the real chains – just like her mother remained chained to her father in some foreign realm where Melkor was being punished.
“You can heal, too,” Mairon assured (Y/N) and reached out to help the dying butterfly. “Look,” he focused on giving away some of his energy to make the butterfly regain its strength and the young woman’s eyes sparkled as she laughed.
“You fed him with your own spirit,” (Y/N) noticed. “Why do you think I would let any parasite feed off of me? Who would be ever worthy of sharing my power?” She asked and Mairon’s mouth opened slightly.
This conversation had taken place when they had first met. Apparently, she found out the answer to her question – who would ever be worthy of sharing her power? He was.
(Y/N) was half-Elf and Elves were mortal creatures in a way they could be slain or fatally injured. When Adar had killed her, he had killed the elven part of her. The light was gone from her body now and it was no longer a question of whether she would tilt into the light or the darkness. Oh, no… The decision was made.
“Once we get out of here, once we forge ourselves new flesh, my darling,” she cooed to the black, slimy creature that remained all left of her husband at the moment, “we will have our revenge. And do not even try to stop me from destroying anything or anyone,” she threatened as the black, weakly breathing substance whined. “You are right, my sweet, the world needs to be healed. But it is far too rotten. We have to start over. We have to rebuild it once more, from the ashes of the current one. The Dark Queen and her Dark Lord.”
She had been nothing but a chrysalis so far but – soon – she would bloom into a beautifully terrifying butterfly.
Into her father’s daughter.
Tumblr media
MASTERLIST
81 notes · View notes
bandgie · 2 days ago
Text
Snow Angels
2.8kwords
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, not smut but making out and *some* boobs, Grinch!au, Seungmin makes a fat joke BUT it's to Major May, mentions of bullying, reader is called Martha May
notes! I watched the grinch the other day and I was like "omg this is so seungmin' and yeah here we are. I don't picture seungmin as like the grinch-grinch, but maybe a greenish-skin tone and with straggly hair. Think of beastboy from teen titans more so? or whatever you want idk. merry late Christmas! divider from @/saradika-graphics
Tumblr media
You could recall it easily, though a part of you wishes you didn’t.
Cindy Lou, a young Who child, came knocking at your door, asking about the origins of The Grinch. You wanted to turn her away, but her nose was red from the cold, her hands were filled with pens and notebooks, and her eyes, such curious, child-eyes full of wonder and determination, convinced you to let her in.
“Eh, he had no sense of color coordination. A-Although I hardly remember him, I didn't have time to socialize. I was far too busy with my... studies.”
Which was somewhat true. You were far too young to have real homework, and your high status had you passing all your classes without having to read a single book. But you were captivated by a peculiar boy with greenish skin and straggly hair.
“Children can be…so cruel,” you recall how Major May behaved as a child. “Seungm- I mean…The Grinch didn’t do anything to warrant such terrible treatment. He was…kind.”
You blink back to the present, startled to see Cindy Lou writing down so intensely. 
You panicked. “D-Did I have a crush on the Grinch? Well, of course not.”
Cindy Lou stopped her writing, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t ask you that.”
“Oh,” you can feel your heart squeezing. “Right.”
He had come to class with a bag over his head on Christmas day. Children mocked him, and the teacher laughed, but you could only stare in adoration when he took his gift out of his backpack, holding the most beautiful angel you’ve ever seen.
Merry Christmas, Martha May.
Your eyes watered at the time. You’ve never seen such an item in any store or window. Seungmin must have made it himself. 
But things didn’t go as planned. The moment the bag on his head came off, there was havoc. Spots of blood decorated his face as if he had tried shaving. It was nothing funny, but everyone in the class hollered with laughter. 
The Grinch had shouted. He raised the Christmas tree above his head and threw it across the room in embarrassment.
STUPID PRESENT! STUPID TREE! I... HATE... CHRISTMAS!!!
You shuddered at the memory. The screams from the other children in the room always gave you chills. But Seungmin's angry tears, his quivering lip, are something you think you can never forget. 
“The muscles! It was a horrible day... when they were so cruel to him. And... I could hardly bear it.”
His gift was in pieces on the floor. You remember students running, stomping over it without a care in the world. Once the classroom was empty with nothing left but the echoes of chaos, you picked up a piece and tucked it away safely.
Now, that piece sits on your hair, carefully woven with other crystals and gems in plain sight. 
You reach to touch it, sliding your fingers along the edges. “Any more questions, Cindy Lou?” The child writes her final notes, snapping her notebook closed and hopping off the couch. “Nope. Thank you, Miss May.”
You nod. “Not a problem. Can I ask why you’re so interested in The Grinch? Is this for your homework?”
She smiles, her two front teeth shining. “Nope. I’m trying to figure out why the Grinch hates Christmas so much. I think I know how to fix it now.”
“Oh? And how’s that?”
“By inviting him to Whobilation!”
-
He’s here. Oh sweet apple pie, he’s here. You don’t know how such a young girl convinced the Major and The Grinch, but Seungmin stands out like a beautiful ornament.
So many Who stared in shock, fear, and some interest. They step away when he steps forward. They look away when he looks. Seungmin appears as if he couldn’t care less. He seemed almost bothered by the joyous songs and colorful trees, but he didn’t look…like he hated it.
You haven’t seen him in years, almost a decade you’d say, but time did little to rid you of your feelings.
He’s tall, and lean with the same green tint on his skin. It never bothered you. You never understood why it was such an issue. You loved his originality. You loved the hair that seemed as if it could never be tamed.
His limbs were long but proportionate. His slender fingers reached to touch the tree, feeling the rough pine between them. 
You shivered. 
“I can’t believe he showed,” Major May scrunched his nose in disgust. “I can’t imagine any Who that is happy with such an appearance.”
You look at the Major, his curled hair and short stature. “Cindy Lou is quite ecstatic.”
He grimaces. “Children…they don’t know anything.”
The relationship between you and Major May is purely business. The two of you stand at the podium together, but you might as well be alone. Both of you are high-status Whos. It only makes sense you two marry in time, but you’re trying to stall for as long as you can.
If only you could have a choice. If only people saw you as more than just a pretty face with money, but a Who with purpose. If only you were like-
“The Grinch! Major May, he’s coming this way!”
His footsteps seem to be in tandem with your thudding heart. You look out to the Whos once more to see Seungmin already closing the distance. 
Is your make-up good? Is your hair still in place? Should you maintain eye contact or look away as he approaches? A million thoughts race through your mind, and you end up staring him down until he’s in front of you and your husband-to-be.
“Major May.” Seungmin doesn’t so much as look at him. His abnormal green eyes are on you. 
“Martha.”
Martha. When was the last time he said your name? You remember his voice being so squeaky, but now he’s a man. Full grown with what you can only think is animosity in his heart from all those years of mistreatment. 
“Seu-” Does he even go by that name anymore? “Grinch. How are you liking the Whobilition?”
“Oh, you know. Bright colors that make me want to vomit, families looking so jolly that it makes me happy I never had one, and children squealing in delight until my ears bleed. Other than that, I’d say I’ll live, unfortunately.”
You smile. Quickly, you cover your lips with a gloved hand and pretend to cough, but he already saw. 
He grins with you.
“Ah, you’re such a funny guy.” Major May smiles, but his eyes are hostile. “I remember that in school too. You were always the butt of the joke.”
Seungmin drops his smile, sliding his eyes to the Mayor and tensing his jaw. Then, he shrugs. “I remember that all too well. I also recall how you couldn’t lay off the snacks back then. Seems like you still can’t, even now.”
Verbal jabs continue for what feels like hours. Their voices are light and fun, but their words are the complete opposite. You hate having to listen, forced to play the role of the good, pretty woman who does what she’s told. 
But of course, so long as the Whos are happy, so are you.
“It’s time for the pudding cook-off!” “Sack Race!” “Christmas conga!”
And despite his earlier arguments, Seungmin is having a…great time. He’s smiling with the Whos, dancing with them, and playing with children. You’ve never seen him this happy, not since you told him your favorite colors in elementary school. Though the cold air nips and bites at your skin, your heart is warm with affection.
“And now it's time for Present Pass-it-on!” The Major says. The attention of the Whos is captivated by him in mere seconds. He calls Seungmin onto the podium, placing him right next to you. “As always, we start with our Cheer-meister. The gift of a Christmas shave.”
Confusion etches on your face. You watch as Major May hands Seungmin an electric shaver, a red bow tied tightly around the neck.
“Good times! Huh? Good times…”
You’re in shock. No, you’re…appalled. The warmth that was building in your chest turns sour. The bitterness in your mouth is so strong that you softly weep, covering your tears as Seungmin stares at the ‘gift.’
His hand clenches around the razor. You swear he’s trembling beside you, stuck on how he should react in the eyes of so many Whos.
Everyone’s laughing. Again.
“I…I fucking knew it.” 
The crowd gasps. No Who swears. 
“I fucking knew it! You bring me here to laugh at me. To mock me! Christmas is a lousy excuse to do what you want! To be selfish and want more more more when you already have enough! All these fun times you have are garbage. GARBAGE! You bake and wrap and sing and praise the meaning of Christmas when you laugh at anything slightly different than you. You are all a fucking joke.”
His hand raises high above his head before coming down fast. The razor slams on the ground, pieces flying off.
You scream from the shatter. More Whos being to panic, yell, and point. It only takes seconds for chaos to erupt. You can see people screaming and grabbing their children, running for safety. 
As if Seungmin would do any real harm.
“Martha May…Martha May!”
You jump. You were so busy watching Seungmin walk away that you didn’t notice the Major calling your name.
“W-what?”
“I asked you to marry me.” He smiles as if this mayhem isn’t his fault. “What do you say?”
What do you say? Is this some kind of joke? His citizens are running for their lives and he’s standing here like it’s not a big issue. He has the guts to embarrass the only person who made you feel seen, and he has the guts to ask you to marry him?
“What do I say?” You sneer. For the first in your life, you’re not going to listen. “Fuck. No.”
Major May flinches back, stunned. His wide eyes try to find yours, but you’re already running down the podium and following the large footsteps that can only belong to one Who. You push past the scurrying people, apologies leaving your cold lips.
You make it past the center of town, rushing down the alley where the lamp posts don't shine bright.
You hear him before you see him. The angry words and soft sniffing. Your heart aches. 
“Seungmin?” 
His head turns. Even in the dim light, you can see the whites of his eyes turnings red and the flush of his cheeks matching. 
“Don’t you Whos have anything better to do than antagonize me? You already got what you wanted.”
You take a few steps closer, slowly. “No. No, it’s not like that at all. I promise you, Seungmin, I had no clue what the Major was going to do.”
He scoffs. “The major. You mean your husband.”
You don’t respond and Seungmin takes that as an invitation to continue. “I heard him ask you to marry him. I imagine you clapping your hands and jumping for joy when he did.”
You’re still getting closer. “You imagined wrong. I could never be with a man like that.”
He’s so tall. You know this already, but when it’s just the two of you, it adds a different taste to the air.
“He has money and status. What more could you want?”
Something like anxiety settles in your chest. You stop walking, caught between keeping your mouth shut or throwing up.
You do something much worse. “You. I want you.”
Seungmin jolts, reeling back as if you’ve struck him. His green eyes widen and he looks at you up and down, like you’re not really you.
You find your steps again. “I know we were children back then, but all these years, I’ve thought about you. How you’ve been. How cold it must be living on that mountain, alone. I’ve thought about if…if you’ve thought about me too. If you’ve missed me.”
Now, you’re directly in front of him. The tremors that rake through you aren’t from the cold, but fear. You don’t know if he feels the same. It’s been years and you’re not the same girl you once were. Then again, Seungmin isn’t the same boy, but you love him nonetheless.
Oh wow. You love him.
“Do you mean that?” He turns so his chest is to you. “Do you really mean that, Martha May?”
“Do you remember the gift you gave me for Christmas? The angel?” Seungmin nods at your words. “Look in my hair. Tell me what you see.”
You stay silent as he inspects. It doesn’t take long for his fingers to make their way into your curls, carefully moving the hair. The tips of his fingers massage your scalp and you close your eyes and relax into his hold.
Then he finds it. “Oh my. After all these years, Martha May?”
You smile, but the way he says it makes your stomach flip. “After all these years.”
His hands trail down. His knuckles graze your cheek and he goes lower, just above the swell of your chest. “You were always so pretty. But now…” His fingers suddenly grab your chin so you look directly into his eyes. “You’re mesmerizing.”
Heat makes its way to your cheeks. Even if you try to glance away, Seungmin gently shakes your chin so you look back into his green eyes.
“I let you go once, but I was a child, and I didn’t know any better. But now, as a man, I’m not doing it again.” Seungmin leans down and tilts his head. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
You’re worried that breathing will ruin the tension, but you whisper into his lips, “Yes.”
“Good.”
He breaks the distance easily, molding his lips with yours. He presses so close against you that your breasts squish, but you like the warmth of his body on yours. His lips are confident, but not overwhelming. You let your mouths slide and angle until they fit like a puzzle piece, smacking and licking until you’re lolling your tongue out.
Everything about Seungmin is soft. His lips, his tongue, and his mouth. So many people have made horror stories about how rough and scaly The Grinch’s skin is, but as you run your hands through his messy hair, even that is smooth in your grip.
Seungmin places one hand behind your head so he can kiss you deeper. Spit mingles on your tongue and you can’t help yourself to taste more. You suck gently on him, hearing his surprised gasp and feeling his hand tighten in your carefully styled hair. 
You giggle. “Bet you don’t get that on the mountain often.”
Seungmin has a type of look in his eyes that seems delighted and devoted. “They don’t have anything like you anywhere.”
You laugh again, attacked with his lips and teeth. His lips trail down until they find your breasts. Both of his hands grope you, stealing a whimper from your lips.
“Your dress is splendid. You don’t have any idea how hard it was for me to keep my eyes up.”
You don’t laugh with the moan caught in your throat, so you smile. Your hands thread in his hair again and he kisses your chest, nipping at the fat and sucking it into his skin.
Seungmin is eager to do more. He wants to pull your dress down until your tits pop free, hard, and begging to be bit. He’d swirl his tongue on your bud until it’s red with sensitivity, switching to the other one while twisting it between his fingers.
But it’s cold. He can feel your beautiful body trembling from the snow and hear your chattering teeth.
If he straightens up to press against you, he’s sure you’d feel his hard-on. Seungmin has a feeling you’d let him take you right now, but he’d rather take you somewhere warm. Where you don’t have to worry about getting hyperthermia.
You whine when he pulls away. The saliva on your skin begins to freeze almost immediately and you shiver.
You know your panties are wet, but it feels uncomfortable in this weather. 
“Why did you…?”
Seungmin looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Martha, I can see your breath. As much as I want to, you’re gonna have to screw this green freak later.”
You roll your eyes and smile, correcting your coat and wrapping your arms around yourself. “I suppose.”
Seungmin smiles at you, wrapping his long arms around you and pulling you in. Contently, you lean on his chest, hearing the steady rhythm in his chest. And for the first time ever, you hear him humming a Christmas carol.
And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say… that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day.
54 notes · View notes
thisapplepielife · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Click, Click, Click
Prompt Day 29: Fairytale | Word Count: 734 | Rating: T | CW: Post-Apocalyptic | Tags: Canon Divergence Post-S4, Hurt/Comfort, End of the World, Survival, Just the Two of Us, The World is Bleak, But We're Together
Set in my connected one-shot End of the World AU 'verse, but can be read standalone.
Tumblr media
"If I click my heels three times, do you think we'll get to go home?" Eddie asks, and Steve laughs a little too loud. He shouldn't. They're hunkered down, hidden out of sight, in an abandoned house.
It's been 813 days. 
At least Eddie thinks so. He's tried to keep track, but there were a few days where he was feverish and barely lucid. 
Eddie knows it's at least been two years. That much he's certain. But he can't ask Steve. Steve won't talk about it. 
Because Steve thinks there's a way to fix this, a way to revert everything back to the way it was, and Eddie knows that's not true. That's a fairytale. Especially after 813-ish days.
"You could at least try," Steve banters back. He's tired, they both are, but he's still got his sense of humor. At least most of the time.
Steve's filthy, not that Eddie isn't, but seeing Steve Harrington with greasy hair hanging in his eyes wasn't something Eddie ever predicted he'd see in his lifetime. Running water is a thing of the past, and they haven't exactly found a safe source of water to bathe with in a while. Everything they find has to go to drinking.
Running water. A luxury he took for granted, even in the worst parts of his childhood. On a long list of things he misses from the real world, running water is near the top. If they ever get back to their version of Kansas from this shitty version of Oz, Uncle Wayne instead of Auntie Em waiting, he's taking the longest, hottest shower in history.
But for now, they're still following this shitty yellow brick road, but it's more as if they are in the book version of Oz, not the story MGM polished to a sanitized shine. No lions, tigers or bears.
That'd be preferable, honestly, after dealing with demogorgons, demodogs and demobats, oh fucking my, indeed. 
Eddie's given up hope that they'll ever find anyone else out here ever again. But at the same time, they can't be the only survivors. That's too implausible. But it sure feels like that now. Steve keeps them moving. Searching. He hasn't given up hope.
And Eddie'd never give up on Steve having hope, so they'll forge ahead. As long as Steve doesn't start hacking off his limbs to become the tinman, well, then they're still ahead, no matter what this world is, or isn't.
"That stove looks like something out of Hansel and Gretel," Eddie comments, and Steve laughs again. There are dishes piled on top of it. So, Eddie thinks someone survived here, at least for a while.
"I'd eat some Hansel or Gretel about now," Steve says, flippantly, and Eddie grins. The world is bad, but it hasn't gotten that bad, which Eddie is grateful for, because he's the only other person around to end up in said stove.
"I'd settle for some of the witch," Eddie banters back, and Steve smiles. They're okay. They're still okay, Steve sitting next to him, clicking that stopwatch he always keeps in his pocket. 
Click, click, click.
The numbers ticked over an hour. And Steve kept trying.
He's reset it so many times since.
Eddie isn't sure he fully believes the tale that goes with it, but Steve does, so he'll never contradict it. Time travel? Eddie had died? And now, instead, everyone else died? Vecna taking over the earth is Steve's fault?
There ain't no way. Eddie will never believe that.
Steve's just cracked a little. Which, understandable. They've been through hell and back.
Click, click, click.
Nothing happens. Nothing ever happens.
Steve puts the stopwatch back in his pocket, buttoning the pocket closed. A nightly ritual that never produces any results. Even still, Steve's determined to keep it safe. Eddie thinks the only thing Steve protects more than the stopwatch is Eddie himself.
"Tell me a story," Steve demands, and lays his head down next to Eddie's on the bunched up duffle bag they are using for a pillow.
It's not much, but it's better than the ground.
Eddie's imagination hasn't truly run wild in a while. Maybe not since before he ever heard the cursed name Vecna, ripped from the game he once loved, and thrust right into the real world. With real consequences.
But he misses telling stories.
So, he'll try. For Steve.
"Once upon a time..."
Tumblr media
If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
49 notes · View notes
bradleysass · 1 day ago
Text
Reckless - word count: 704 - Starchaser
Tumblr media
The Black family manor was a spectacle of grandeur during Christmas. The chandelier sparkled with charmed icicles, evergreen garlands twined with silver ribbons adorned the marble bannisters, and the scent of mulled wine and freshly baked spiced cakes filled the air. Regulus Black stood near the grand fireplace in the main hall, a glass of champagne balanced effortlessly between his long fingers.
He was every bit the picture of aristocratic elegance: a tailored black suit with subtle silver embroidery, his raven hair perfectly combed back, and his sharp features set in a mask of cool detachment. Even in a room full of purebloods with similarly lofty airs, Regulus managed to command attention.
Sirius wasn’t here, of course. He wouldn’t be caught dead at a Black family Christmas party. Regulus envied him, sometimes, for his freedom to rebel. But someone had to keep the family name pristine, and it always fell to him.
Regulus was just about to excuse himself to escape the dull chatter when he caught a flicker of movement in the shadows near the ornate doorway. His brow furrowed. It wasn’t Kreacher—he could hear the house-elf bustling in the kitchens. His grip on the champagne flute tightened as he turned, expecting an intruder or, worse, one of his meddling cousins.
Instead, James Potter stepped out of the shadows.
Regulus froze.
James was slightly disheveled, his hair messier than usual, his Gryffindor charm muted by the anxiety in his hazel eyes. He wore a thick winter coat, its edges dusted with snow, and his cheeks were flushed, either from the cold or the sheer nerve it took to show up here.
“What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” Regulus hissed, striding over before anyone else could notice. “Do you want to get hexed?”
“I needed to see you,” James said, his voice quiet but determined. He looked Regulus over, his eyes lingering for a moment too long. “I’ve never seen you in such a fancy suit. You look… incredible.”
Regulus blinked, momentarily caught off guard. But then his usual defenses kicked in. “Flattery won’t save you if my mother sees you,” he snapped, glancing around. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” James admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I couldn’t wait anymore. I’ve been trying to owl you for weeks, and you’ve ignored every single letter.”
“That should’ve been a hint,” Regulus said coldly, though his voice wavered ever so slightly. “We’re done, Potter. You don’t belong in my world, and I don’t belong in yours.”
James took a step closer, undeterred. “I don’t care about worlds, Reg. I care about you. I made a mistake, I know that. I let my temper get the better of me, and I said things I didn’t mean. But I’m here now, trying to fix it.”
Regulus’s heart clenched, but his face remained impassive. “You think you can just waltz into my family’s home and everything will go back to how it was?”
“No,” James said softly. “But I had to try. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I’ll keep apologizing until you believe me.”
Regulus looked away, his gaze fixed on the crackling flames in the fireplace. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” James agreed. “But I’m your idiot.”
Regulus’s lips twitched, betraying the faintest hint of a smile. “You really shouldn’t be here.”
“And yet, here I am,” James said, stepping even closer. “Tell me to leave, and I will. But if there’s even the smallest part of you that doesn’t want me to go… I’ll stay.”
Regulus met his gaze then, his gray eyes shimmering with a mix of frustration and longing. For a moment, the sounds of the party faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in the glow of the firelight.
“You’re reckless,” Regulus finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
James grinned, his confidence returning. “Reckless enough to sneak into the Black family manor for you.”
Regulus sighed, but there was no mistaking the softness in his expression now. “Fine,” he said, setting his champagne flute down on a nearby table. “But if my mother finds you, I’m not saving you.”
“I’ll take my chances,” James said, his grin widening.
Tumblr media
25 notes · View notes
alia-alia12 · 11 hours ago
Text
By Chance
Part 6: Crossed Paths
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𖧹Satoru Gojo x fem!reader
𖧹Fluff
𖧹1.4k
𖧹Masterlist
𖧹Part 5
Tumblr media
The afternoon sun warmed the cobblestone streets of the town’s familiar farmers’ market. You wandered past stalls filled with bright flowers, handmade trinkets, and crates overflowing with fresh produce. The smell of baked bread and blooming lavender filled the air, wrapping around you like a soft memory.
Stopping at a fruit stand, you reached for a ripe peach, the fuzzy skin warm under your fingertips. You’d spent countless weekends here as a kid, but it felt different now—everything did.
As you debated whether to grab a second peach, a voice you hadn’t heard in years cut through the gentle hum of the crowd.
“Y/N?”
Your hand froze mid-reach.
You turned slowly, pulse quickening.
There he was. Satoru Gojo. He was taller than you remember, hair just a bit longer.
He stood just a few feet away, hands in his coat pockets, those unmistakable blue eyes wide with surprise. His familiar white hair caught the afternoon light, and for a moment, he looked just like he had all those years ago—just the way you remembered.
“Satoru"
His lips parted like he wanted to say more, but no words came. He took a small step closer, gaze scanning your face as if to make sure you were real.
“I didn't expect to see you here,” he finally managed, voice rougher than you remembered.
You nodded slowly, offering a tentative smile. “Same.”
The weight of the years that had passed settled between you, thick and heavy. Neither of you moved, caught in a strange limbo where time seemed to fold in on itself.
“Are you… back for good?” he asked carefully, keeping his tone casual.
“Just for a while,” you answered, shifting the bag on your shoulder. “Helping out with things at home.”
He nodded, rocking back on his heels. “I figured. Your parents’ shop’s looking good… saw it the other day.”
Your chest tightened. He’d noticed the shop. You tried not to read into it. “I’ve been fixing it up. It’s… nice being back.”
His lips tugged into a faint smile. “Yeah. This place hasn’t changed too much, has it?.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
The conversation paused, filled by the distant chatter of the market and the rustling breeze. You glanced toward the fruit stand, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.
“I should probably… grab these and head out,” you said, gesturing toward the peaches you’d forgotten.
“Right, of course.” He nodded but made no move to leave.
The vendor handed you a small paper bag, and you fumbled with your wallet before paying. When you turned back, Satoru was still standing there, hands deep in his coat pockets, looking like he was debating something.
Before you could overthink it, you heard yourself say, “There’s a café nearby… if you’re not busy.”
His eyes widened slightly—just for a second—before a faint smile curved his lips. “Yeah, I remember that place.”
You gave a small nod, heart pounding. “Want to grab a coffee? It’s been a while.”
“Sure,” he said easily, though there was something softer in his voice now. “Lead the way.”
You fell into step together, the quiet between you charged with memories neither of you dared to bring up.
And for the first time in a long time… it felt like maybe, just maybe, not everything was lost.
------------------
The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries greeted you as you stepped into the cozy café tucked at the corner of the street. The bell above the door chimed softly, announcing your arrival.
Satoru followed closely behind, his hands still buried in his coat pockets. You felt his presence like a warm pulse at your back—familiar yet distant, comforting yet nerve-wracking.
The café hadn’t changed a bit. Same worn wooden tables, same faded chalkboard menu hanging near the counter, and the same soft music playing in the background.
“Still looks the same,” You said, your gaze sweeping the room with quiet nostalgia.
“Yeah. Feels like stepping back in time,” Satoru agreed, offering a faint smile.
The barista greeted you warmly, recognizing you after all these years. You placed your usual order without thinking, years of habit taking over.
Satoru raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, stepping up to order his drink—black coffee, no sugar, same as always.
The familiarity tugged at something deep inside you, though you quickly shoved the feeling away.
You slid into a quiet corner booth by the window, the worn cushions creaking softly beneath you. Satoru settled across from you, resting his arms on the table in that same relaxed, effortless way he always had.
“Still the same order,” he remarked, lips quirking slightly. “Guess some things never change.”
You huffed a soft laugh, fingers tracing the edge of your coffee cup. “Neither have you. Still drinking that bitter stuff?”
“Keeps me sharp,” he replied with a shrug, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
The easy rhythm of the conversation surprised you, smoothing the initial awkwardness. But beneath the lighthearted words lingered something heavier, something neither of you was ready to address.
“So-” he began, leaning back in his seat. “What made you come back? Didn’t think I’d ever see you around here again.”
You hesitated, turning your coffee cup in slow circles. “My parents needed help with the shop… figured I’d stick around for a while.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze steady but unreadable. “How long’s ‘a while’?”
“Six months… maybe longer.”
His expression flickered for just a second before settling into something carefully neutral. “Not long, then.”
You shrugged, forcing a lightness into your voice. “Long enough to get things back in order.”
The silence stretched again, comfortable but charged. You could feel questions hanging in the air—unspoken but heavy.
The barista brought your drinks, offering a warm smile before retreating back behind the counter. You wrapped your hands around your cup, letting the warmth seep into your fingers.
Satoru studied you quietly, his gaze softer now, tinged with something that looked dangerously close to longing. “It’s good to see you,” he said, almost too softly.
Your breath hitched, but you quickly masked it with a small smile. “It's good to see you too.”
Minutes passed in quiet conversation—talking about the town, shared memories of old hangouts, and mutual friends you’d both lost touch with. It felt easy… too easy.
But neither of you brought up the past. Not yet.
Not the last goodbye. Not the years of silence. Not the ache you both carried but couldn’t quite name.
As you stirred the last bit of your coffee, Satoru spoke again, voice low and thoughtful. “Ever think about leaving, for good?”
You met his gaze, startled by the sudden seriousness in his tone.
“I did,” you admitted quietly. “But coming back felt right somehow.”
He nodded slowly, something unreadable passing across his face. “Yeah, I get that.”
The café seemed warmer now, the past pressing in just enough to make your chest ache—but not enough to push you away.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you weren’t running anymore.
And maybe… neither was he.
17 notes · View notes
townofcadence · 10 hours ago
Note
Artair understands what is happening; this is much like their first meeting, actually. That night, Jonas couldn't tell him the truth of how he was feeling until he had played a game of truth or lies. So Artair just closes his eyes as Jonas touches his forehead, because this is the way Jonas knows to be forthright with him. He can't just say what's on his mind, he needs that safety net, that ability to pretend it was just a trick or a joke or a game, to be secure enough to say whatever it is. This really isn't any different.
Which of course, meant everything Jonas 'read' from his mind was--- pretty wrong. Or off-base. But it showed what Jonas thoguht right now. He felt like he made no sense, that Artair was frustrated with him, or at least ought to be. The party bit feels out of left field without a preamble, but he supposed he could see it being a worry he had, that he had ulterior motives for hanging out? But that was clearly there. And of course, it wouldn't be Jonas if there wasn't some kind of attempt to switch gears to something comedic, however brief.
He only confirms it when he drops the act. Artair brushes back his hair.
"I....think you need to workshop your act some more, J." Artair answers, in a softer voice. "Sorry to say, but you're no good at reading minds."
There's a crack of a smile, even if it sobers again. "I don't think you're as difficult as you might think. And I'm not upset at you. I just....don't really know how to help, because a lot of your struggle now.... It's not something I can help with." Artair takes a deeper breath, thinking how to continue. He does so simply by plowing forward, in a soft-spoken voice.
"Jonas, if you said yes because you want this time to be different, then.... you have to choose to make it different. Hiding out in the kitchen and 'watching everyone have their hallmark card moment', or overcompensating or drinking aren't.... those decisions are within your power. And they're not going to make anything different if that's what you usually do at these parties."
He leans back further in his chair. "This one isn't a Vegas 'show your face and schmooze' kind of thing as it is. But... I can't do anything to fix how you feel. Except tell you that choosing to hide away is a choice. And you can make it sound as inevitable as you want, but.... choosing to reach out, to cook some and then spend time with your friends and be out there with everyone else, is also a choice you can make. It can be different if you try to do things differently. But nobody else can do that for you. I mean-- I guess someone could pull you out of the kitchen, like I said before. But.... you're not powerless either. It's not set in stone to go one way. It is if you always do the same thing, I guess. But there isn't.... actually anything to stop you from switching things up." He shrugs.
"You have better friends, kinder ones, who aren't going to be mad at you for changing your mind. Hell, they'd understand that at this time of year plans can change pretty quick. And they care enough to not forget or neglect you. If they didn't come pull you in with them, it's probably because you'd say you're busy cooking or you'd look busy and they'd....believe you? Not realize you want to be a part of things but expect an invitation, probably. You have real friends now. And I wish you would allow yourself to believe that. Just enough to at least give them a chance to prove it." He touches Jonas' back very gingerly, offering a small squeeze, to try and comfort him through the extremity of his emotion.
Jonas went quiet again for a little bit, sorting through Artair's words in his head. Then he placed the bowl of frosting aside.
He moved back towards Artair, up close to him and leaned on the counter, studying the bowl and then up at Artair with a thoughtful expression on his face. He then he raised his hand, placing two fingers against Artair's temple and two against his own. He closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate for a moment.
" I'm going to read your mind right now, shh..." he intoned solemnly. " You're thinking...you're thinking mmmm...."
His fingers tap against Artair's temple lightly. " 'I don't understand this guy at all or why he thinks and acts the way he does. I'd like to help but it's really frustrating. Also he probably is going to try to convince me to go to this party we've been talking about even though I really don't want to go either. And what the fuck is he doing anyways trying to read my mind? Weirdo. Hmmm did I put enough vanilla extract in this cookie dough? ' "
He dropped his hands and turned around, leaning against the counter again. " I know you're not trying to make me feel guilty or shitty, Artair, " he said, scuffing his feet across the floor. " I know you wanna help me because you're good like that. And me being well...me I imagine sometimes it feels like banging your head against a brick wall. I...really don't know why I said yes to begin with. Maybe it was just because I really was afraid to say no or maybe I thought at the time 'hey maybe this can be different somehow' or...god who knows. I...don't know why I have a hard time trusting people, even those I know are my friends. Well...maybe I do but honestly all that would probably give a licensed therapist a headache to sort out. I think sometimes trying to figure out why I act like I do feels like a mental game of 52 card pickup. "
He abruptly reached out and took Artair's prosthetic hand in his, intertwining his fingers with his. " I'm sorry I'm like this when all you want to do is help me to really take a good hard look at what I'm doing. I'm really sorry that...that I'm so hard to be friends with, to even talk to really. Also uhm you don't have to worry. I'm not going to try to guilt-trip you into going to the party...I don't pull shit like that. " He bit his lip again.
" I wanted to check on you and make sure you were ok, Artair. " The words came from him with vehemence as he looked up at Artair. His brown eyes brimmed with emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked hard.
24 notes · View notes
moonspirit · 9 months ago
Text
OH MY GOD THEY FUCKING FIXED HIS HAIR!!!!!!!
The original:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Blu-ray:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THEY FUCKING FIXED IT!!!!!!
(Source on the bird app) also thank you anna for showing it to me, it's made my whole fucking day nahdbsksns T///////T
252 notes · View notes