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andkisses · 8 months

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♡ a good way | beomgyu ♡

despite the director casting you and beomgyu, your best friend, as the romantic leads, you both promise it won’t change anything between you

♡ beomgyu x gn!reader | wc. 9.1k ♡ genres/tropes: college!au, friends-to-loves, theater!au, hurt/comfort ♡ mentions of/warnings: injuries, lmk if there's anything else ♡ a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote and posted YEARS ago; unfortunately it was eaten up when i accidentally deleted my blog :’) it was originally for joshua from svt; i changed some of the times in the fic from the original, so if it’s a little wonky that’s why :’) pls enjoy ! <3 at the time it was my longest fic, now only second to roman holiday ^^ a/n 2: apologies for my absences ! i had some health issues even tho it was supposed to be my break :') im doing well now ^^

♡ masterlist ♡

It was strange. Weird. Practically unfathomable and there must be some kind of mistake. The play had those two characters as romantic leads. The ones who slowly turn to look at each other, catch the starry glint in the other’s eye before slowly leaning in, before slowly closing their eyes, before slowly feeling their heartbeat accelerate because oh heavens this is it—before slowly kissing each other for the first time with such tender passion some members of the audience start to cry.

Those roles were not ever meant for the ones who have been friends since seventh grade, where one of them accidentally tripped and tossed their lunch all over the other, rendering the former an apologetic mess and the latter slightly smelling of garlic for the rest of the day. Not for the ones who stayed up far too late binge watching whole seasons of anime because they finally turned in that big project and it’s in fate’s hands now. Definitely not friends who are each other’s best friends, always. Never them.

But when the director swings back to the two of you, the mischievous and excited glint in his eye is unmistakable. His giddiness even bubbles over and he repeats himself, happily gazing between you and the best friend of 8 years standing beside you. “Beomgyu, Y/N, you will be the best two leads this stage has ever seen.”

You don’t want to talk about it. You avoid it for as long as possible. Have every conversation about everything else possible except the one topic that actually needs discussion. The trees outside are slowly losing their crunchy leaves, littering the ground with crimson and gold and sprigs of chocolate in between. They rustle and fuss when walked over, and shuffle down the street in a hoard of warning, proclaiming threats of the bitter winds of winter that would soon approach and engulf everyone whole.

Some mornings, you can see remnants of late-night frost on window panes, icy designs laced over the glass in the early morning hours. The grass glistens and shimmers with frozen dew, and the sidewalk is slippery enough to encourage walking slowly or bypassing concrete altogether and walking through the dead leaves. Some nights, you can see your breath curl as you wait outside the diner, a translucent white beast disappearing into the night. As night draws darker earlier, the air grows colder, like a mysterious ghost. One moment, you’re warm—the next, a bitter chill sprints around you, immersing everything in a coldness that drills past your layers and settles into your bones.

But you’d wait a thousand years in the cold just to walk him home. You’d wait forever if it meant seeing him one last time before the day ended and blurred into the next through a series of dreams and quiet darkness.

Beomgyu is one of the last few people out of the diner; he never closes, but he stays as long as he can, helping out and cleaning before his boss gets angry and tells him to “go home! Don’t you have homework?” When he steps out onto the street, making sure to close the door behind him, he’s safely bundled up in a black pea coat and a plaid woolen scarf that, when wound up, nearly encompasses his neck, chin, and even the bottom tips of his ears. When he sees you waiting for him again, he smiles, eyes lighting up like firecrackers and his grin is so warm it starts to defrost your bones, slowly but surely.

“You know you don’t have to wait for me?” he says, falling in step with you as the two of you began the chilled trek back to your apartment.

“Yeah,” you shrug, “but then who will make sure you don’t get lost on your way back? Or, I don’t know, get eaten by a star-monster?”

“A star-monster?” He quirks his head towards you, raising his eyebrow in mild but amused confusion.

You nod your head. “What if the stars gang up on you and snatch you right off the face of the earth and you disappear into the sky? And no one knows or can save you because I wasn’t there? Hm?”

A bitter chuckle escapes his lips. The white curl of his breath fills the air in front of him before it fades, taking the bright look in his eyes with it. “Then I guess I wouldn’t have to be a part of the musical, would I?”

Silence washes over you like a breaking wave—it hurts and stings, knocking everything away and tossing the tiny ships around into chaos. The only sound now is the brush of the wind skirting the leaves down the street with you and the distant city noise. The heels of your shoes hit the pavement in time together, and your breaths slowly start to match up. But something’s off; you feel it in your heart and your bones begin to ache again as the cold ice returns once more, spreading their chilled fingers across them.

Somehow, you find your voice, but it’s quiet and small. “It couldn’t be that bad, could it?”

Beomgyu shrugs, looking anywhere but you. He throws his head back and stares up at the night sky, where the stars kindly twinkle back at him, almost as a promise of we’d never steal you away. You look up, too, but all you see is a menacing darkness that you’re not sure you can get rid of. It feels like it’s bearing down on you, pressing down on your head, your shoulders, and your heart. With it comes a dark doubt, one that oozes into the cracks of your armor and makes you start to question things. It beckons out the dangerous thoughts—the what ifs—and coaxes them into the light and forces you to acknowledge them. What if... this changes things. What if... it ruins things. What if...

“Y/N?”

Your gaze drops back down. Beomgyu stands a few yards ahead of you, in the light of one of the yellow streetlamps. You must have stopped while lost in thought, slowing down until you ended up stuck in between two lamps, in the shadowy part. “Hm?”

He shakes his head. “You just stopped walking.” He turns toward you completely and quickens his pace until he’s beside you again. The look on his face screams of concern, of wondering if his best friend is fine or if it’s something he can’t fix. He reaches out to take your hand in his. “Is everything okay?”

Your heart swells, but it still feels as if it will break, shatter, crumble at any time or place. It feels like porcelain, that if it isn’t handled with care and marked FRAGILE, it will ruin to the point that nothing can fix it. You know what question you have to ask; it’s weighing down on your tongue and you’ll have to force it out.

You gulp, and you can feel your hand shaking in his. Beomgyu’s eyebrows knit together, his starry eyes trying to search for what’s wrong. For what is in need of helping. You stare back at him, garnering the courage to ask the question that’s been plaguing you since roles had been assigned. “The show–it won’t change anything between us, will it?”

And then, he does something unthinkable.

He laughs.

Beomgyu lets go of your hand and bends over in half, practically cackling at the idea, whisker dimples on full display. When he stands back up again, he’s still laughing hard enough he crinkles into your frame, resting a hand on your shoulder and burying his head into your neck, an arm resting across his stomach. His body shakes with laughter, and it’s infectious. A grin slowly spreads across your face, and then a giggle works its way out until the two of you are both laughing like fools. You may be between two lampposts in the shadows, but there’s light where you are.

When the laughter finally subsides to gentle smiles, Beomgyu takes your hand again and tugs you close. He starts walking again, pulling you along, swinging your arms between the two of you. He knocks into your shoulder jokingly, and the both of you smile harder. “Of course not,” Beomgyu says. His smile is pure, assuring. The hand in yours is warm, stable. “Nothing will ever change us.”

Seventh Grade.

The auditorium was full of anxious students, the buzz of noise telling the story of those who were waiting for their turn to shine on stage. The lights were turned on as bright as they would be for a performance, and the stage was decorated with real props from last semester’s performance, a steampunk rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. No one thought the director could pull it off, but when the curtains closed for the last time that first showing, everyone was left starstruck and a new round of students was inspired to try out for the next performance.

A loud clap from the director thundered through the auditorium, signaling for attention and shocking you into your seat a little further. The red fabric bristled against whatever skin your sweater didn’t cover. Outside, the harsh winter weather pummeled the barren landscape, the dead, empty tree branches getting whipped by the bitter, unforgiving wind. The light dusting of snow made everything brighter, almost to the point it hurt to look out the windows at the white world. Inside, however, was full of warm tones and warm breaths. The heat of the auditorium practically had you sweltering, making you wish you had worn layers instead of a bright green sweater. The threads around the collar began to itch at your neck, and you tugged at the hem in search of relief. You really wanted to be here. You really wanted to audition. But the number of people and how long you’ve waited has started to play mind games with you. What if they don’t get to you today? What if they skip over you entirely for someone else? Someone with more theater experience from prior years than you, a complete newbie? What if—

“Hey, uh, is this seat taken?”

You looked up, still fiddling with your itchy collar. It was the boy from the day before—Beomgyu. The one who had accidentally tripped over someone else’s backpack and thrown his lunch all over you. He looked like a complete wreck, one hand holding onto the wrist of the other arm, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes as he struggled to even look in your direction. You shelf your own nerves and offer up a kind smile and pat the seat, which he hastily filled.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a while afterward. On stage, more students rotated through songs and performances, some spectacular and others a little lackluster. It was beginning to become monotonous, and your mind started to wonder if you had gotten here earlier, would you have already auditioned by now? But then something happened. A student walked on stage, introduced themselves politely, and then began to blow everyone and every other performance out of the water. The way they moved, spoke, sang—everything they did was captivating and you felt yourself leaning forward in your seat, drawing ever nearer to the practically perfect audition. There was no music playing in the background, but their vocals and stage presence was more than enough. The entire auditorium erupted in applause when the student on stage finished.

“Wow,” you breathed out. You’d practically fallen out of the chair—feet standing on tiptoes, elbows on knees, chin rested in your cupped hands with a shimmer in your eyes. That. You wanted to be like that. Bewitching, enchanting, and utterly spellbinding.

“I know right?” the boy whispered beside you. The two of you turned to look at each other, and somehow, in the back of your mind, you registered he was sitting the same way you were, looking completely and utterly enraptured with the previous performance. He stared into your eyes—the first time, you noted—and you could see the stars, like a secret milky way full of wonder. There was a serious note in them. “Let’s both do our best so when we grow up, we can be that good.”

“No.” You shook your head, and Beomgyu’s face collapsed into confusion. You shook your head again, this time with a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. “No, when we grow up, we’ll be way better.”

A murmur ripples around campus. Sophomore year of college, and all of high school behind you. You’d think you would be used to it by now, the way quiet words spread around so sneakily but somehow always managed to make their way to your ears, too. But when the girls in the bathroom see you and slyly turn away, whispering how you and Beomgyu have the romantic leads, how of course they do, you can’t help but feel the knot in your stomach form and twist your insides until you feel pressure on your heart as well. Until it feels like you’re about to burst and spill everywhere. You want to spin at them, throw your hands out, and tell them how it’s not like that! That there’s nothing between the two of you except for friendship, the purest of kinds! Stop thinking that way!

But the wiser part of you, the one that’s been through high school, knows that they would just nod their head and try to hide their smirk. You can’t change their minds; they’ll always be thinking and imagining what they want.

Outside, the halls teem with people trying to get to their next class or break. You debate on stopping by your locker near the theater—you won’t need your books again until you go home thanks to rehearsal, but it would be out of your way to get there, on the opposite side of the arts block. But your books are heavy. Really heavy. Like shoulder-breaking, premature back pain-inducing heavy. You find that your feet have started to take you through the crowds to your locker before your mind decides on the plan itself.

In middle school, your and Beomgyu’s lockers were practically as far as they could be from one another. Yours by the gymnasium and near the arts building and the theater. With your mismatched class schedules, you only got to see each other at lunch and for theater. As your friendship grew, he would let you borrow locker space. It got to the point where you basically co-owned each other’s lockers; everything for classes on his side of the building was in his locker and everything for classes on your side was in yours.

By the time high school rolled around two grades later, the two of you were inseparable. As were your lockers. His at one end of the hall, yours at the other end on the opposite side. This only caused trouble junior year, when the two of you had such a bad falling out you could hardly bare to walk past one another’s locker let alone the other person. You would end up taking roundabout ways to your own locker, which worked until you ended up running into him one day without warning.

But you don’t have that problem now. As you walk past Beomgyu, who’s standing by his locker talking to another theater kid, you lightly slug his shoulder. You turn to walk backward and catch his reaction, and he’s staring back at you with fake confusion and his arms thrown up in the air. “You’ll pay for that!” he calls after you.

“Yeah, yeah, sure I will!”

You reach your locker, a happy smile on your face, glad your best friend is the kind of person you can beat up on. You spin the lock with precision, ready to open the door, slam your books inside on the shelf, and hurry to the theater for rehearsals. You can’t wait to see what strange exercises the director would have up his sleeve today; last time, he had everyone stand on the steps in the audience and each time they recited a line correctly, they got to move up two steps. First to the top wins; you and Beomgyu tied for first.

When you pull out the lock and swing the door open, what you see ruins your mood instantly. The crisp, white, inch-thick script stares back at you with quiet remorse. Remember me? it seems to say. Don’t forget about me. You’re almost afraid to touch it, knowing exactly what it holds in its pages even without having read a single line. If your fingers were to graze it, it’s as if an electric shock would shoot out and stop your heart from ever beating again. A tiny part of you wonders if, if your heart really did stop beating, would Beomgyu come to your side and rescue you?

Or would it be like the other night, with a sharp, bitter laugh and a mild happiness over a forgotten kiss.

You’re jostled out of your stupor by a neat punch to your arm, and you fall back into your locker with a metallic clang. When your vision focuses back on the real world, you see Beomgyu walking away from you towards the theater with a confident smirk on his face. He throws out his hands, his smile growing even wider. “I told you, you’d pay for that!”

You’re smiling too, now, and you hurry and grab the script and race after him.

It will all be okay. The two of you had already talked about it, how nothing could change between you two. Regardless of what the girls in the bathroom would dare to say in front of you. Regardless of what anyone else on campus or your major are thinking. Regardless of the script that burns slightly in your grasp, the crisp paper threatening to cut tiny slices into your delicate skin. You and Beomgyu—inseparable best friends for the rest of time.

It would always be that way. No play, no roles, no romantic leads, would get in the way of that. You’d promised each other you’d be each other’s best friend, always.

Freshman year.

Sunlight streaming through the loosely drawn curtains was what woke you, lit patterns playing across your face. Your back ached from sleeping on a couch at a crooked angle for who knows how long. You stretched and tried to pull at your sore joints, attempting to return them to pre-crooked status. The room was still dark; the lamps were all off and the only other source of light was the television, where Netflix was playing some random anime you don’t remember ever selecting or talking about. Vague memories float up to the surface slowly as you finished waking up: you and Beomgyu had turned in a big semester final project that neither of you had thought would be finished on time but somehow managed to pull off. Deciding to get take out and stay up as long as possible watching as many seasons of anime as you could fit in and—

“Boo!”

Your scream echoed through the small dorm and you pulled at the blanket on top of you, trying to hide behind the soft, comforting quilt. On the other side of the couch was Beomgyu, laughing so hard he nearly rolled off onto the shag carpet rug. You half thought about being kind, and warning him to be careful because if he fell he could hit his head on the coffee table, but the other half said he scared you and deserved whatever happened next.

“How could you be so mean!” you whined, reaching behind you to grab a pillow to throw at your best friend’s face. “How long had you been planning something like that?”

Beomgyu paused his laughter to think. “Probably since I woke up about ten minutes ago. It would have been more elaborate, but then you woke up and I ran out of time.”

“You’ll pay for that, you know,” you muttered, drawing the blankets closer against your chest, where inside your heart still beating faster than usual.

“Even after helping you with that project and pay for dinner? On a college budget?” He paused for another moment, resting his chin between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. “Wait, pay for dinner... seems like I’ve already paid for it, Y/N.”

“Beomgyu!” You lunged forward, diving towards his end of the couch. Instead of a successful attack, you landed squarely in his arms, where he proceeded to tug you tightly against his chest. Escape, you soon realized, was futile. You’d have to talk your way out of this one. “Beomgyu, let me go. Now!"

“You know, you sure are whiney when you wake up,” he commented, rustling the hair atop your head. Your heart was still beating quickly and you were convinced the flush of your cheeks was due to large bouts of boiling hot rage streaming through your veins. “And why should I?”

“I would be in a nicer mood if you hadn’t scared me!” You tried to wriggle your arms up and pry your way out, but his grip was solid still, strong and warm. Since when was he ever this strong? His cheeks, you noticed, were warm and rosy as well, but that was from laughing too hard, you were sure. Why else would they be flushed?

“You may have a point…”

“Of course, I have a point! Now let me go!”

Mischief swam around with the stars in your best friend’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, planning something you could only hope wasn’t entirely embarrassing. One eyelid dropped shut, and the smirk on his lips was unmistakable. “I will, but only if you pay for breakfast. From somewhere nice,” he rushes to add. “Student union doesn’t count.”

You released a terse sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Fine! Deal! Now, release me!”

His arms slid away and you rolled over onto the floor, gently landing between the couch and the coffee table. The carpet was rough against your bare arms, but you were glad to be freed from Beomgyu’s death grip.

He was situated on the edge of the couch, chin resting lazily on his forearm, his eyes filled with mild shock and awe. “Really?” he gasped, as if he couldn’t actually believe you’d agreed. “Even if it’s the overpriced brunch food from the boutique down the street?”

You sighed, staring back at him. “Yes. Even the brunch food from the boutique down the street.”

A moment of stillness, then...

“I’m glad we’re best friends," he said plainly, no hesitation in his voice. His dark eyes had warmed to a welcoming honest color, the kind some people could describe as home. The air around the two of you was still, a precious silence that quietly begged to be broken softly. Outside, the morning birds began to sing their late winter tune, beckoning spring to arrive as soon as possible. The sun filtered through the tiny windows brightly now, filling the dorm with warm yellow like that made everything feel nostalgic. Like the perfect ’80s movie.

When you found your voice, your words were soft but not timid. They held the same amount of honesty and weight as his had. “Me, too. We’re best friends, always.”

A soft smile played at Beomgyu’s lips as he echoed your promise. “Always.”

The walk back to your apartment is chilly. Even though the sun shone brightly ahead, the first freeze of the season the night prior plunged your town from late autumn into early winter. What few leaves remain on the trees might as well be frozen on, and the rest of the dead ones scattered around on the pavement, crunchy husks of their former selves. It’s daylight, but you can easily imagine if darkness were shrouded around you, your breaths would be rising out in front of you in vague translucent puffs. Cold describes everything in sight.

Beomgyu is close by your side, nestled in that ridiculously oversized scarf of his. Christmas is a while away, but you’re already planning on getting him a nice, Beomgyu-sized scarf, probably a deep brown to match his eyes.

“What’cha thinking about?” His voice, clear as crystal, cuts through the air like a sharpened knife, but it doesn’t startle you. It’s warm and inviting against the bitter winter weather, a gentle fire among the cold.

“What I’m gonna get you for Christmas,” you reply, burying your hands into your coat pockets. The pavement scuffs beneath your boots, the walk back home growing boring. As you crossed the street where you two used to part ways freshman year, him to the left and you to the right, you remember when he said his parents told him they were moving during high school. How distraught the two of you became, only to find out he was moving in across the street from your house. Now, you split the rent for a two bedroom apartment. “How about you?”

“To be completely honest, I’m wishing I had remembered my gloves this morning, because right now, my hands are extremely cold.”

You laugh, a bright chuckle, and pull your own hands out of your pockets, staring down at the grey gloves cloaking your fingertips. You hold out your hand towards him. “Want to take one?”

Beomgyu scoffs. “And let you suffer from an equally terrible fate as myself? I think not. At least one of us needs to live.”

You laugh again, throwing your hands back into your pocket. “Fine, be that way.” You cut in front of him, dashing over to the short decorative stone wall running as a divider between the grassy park and the sidewalk. In a quick hop, you’re walking along the top as it gradually slopes higher to the point your feet are even with Beomgyu’s waist.

He stares up at you as you hold your arms at length on either side of you, a small frown playing on his lips. “Be careful,” he warns, the tone of his voice surprisingly stern, something he rarely treats you with. When you look down, you see his brows creased as he follows your pace.

“Yeah, okay, dad,” you laugh, finding the bitter look on Beomgyu’s face amusing. The stone wall beneath your feet is sturdy, and your balance is just as solid. Years of strange theater exercises had brought you that. You can even see your apartment down the street; you’d walk all the way atop this wall, taller now still, and show him. You’ll get to the end and hop off dramatically and tease him for worrying. He keeps pace with you perfectly, still by your side even if there’s distance. The look in Beomgyu’s eyes tells you he wants to reprimand you, take you by the waist and set you safely on the sidewalk before scolding you on every reason why you shouldn’t have done that. But you don’t need him to. You’re perfectly safe with no reason to worry and—

You’ve misstepped.

Your foot is too far from the center, closer to the edge of the stonewall than you had anticipated. There’s not enough foot on the edge to save it. Your impressive balance is misplaced even further as your arms circle widely at your sides, trying in vain to regain some semblance of stability. You can feel yourself pitch sideways, your feet finally coming out from beneath you, and now you’re looking up at the crystal blue sky.

There’s not a cloud in sight, odd for this early winter day, and for the shortest of moments, it’s like you're falling through the atmosphere. The cold wind biting at your cheeks is caused by your descent. The screams you hear are just the air rushing past your ears, calling your name, not anyone else. The clunk of bodies hitting the pavement is just an illusion.

Your vision snapping to black is just a mistake, a cruel trick of fate, like the dark doubts that swarm around your head when you’re all alone. The blackness is almost welcoming, and you succumb quietly.

Twelfth Grade

Four weeks. Just under a month. Your life had gone from bold with color and emotion to two steps from dead and lifeless. Subjects you’d once enjoyed, now dull and monotonous. Walks to school were boring. Lunch and free period were non-committal. You’d skipped theater more than your fingers could count; you’d gotten an email from the director asking if everything was okay.

But it wasn’t. Nothing was.

Because it had been four weeks, just under a month, since you’d talked to your best friend.

What you’d even been fighting over, you couldn’t remember. That entire night is a fogged mess in your memory banks, existing but inaccessible. You know it’s there, but your brain, or maybe your heart, refuses to replay the details for you. The only information it relays is that there was a fight, and somehow some kind of words were said that ended in hot tears and storming out of houses with no goodbyes, take cares, or any sign of always.

Life since then had been weird, like you had shifted from one plane of existence but the world didn’t shift with you. Like a blurry camera shot, where one part of the image is in focus with fuzzy edges but everything else is shaken and smeared like thick wet paint.

All the love and joy theater had brought you since seventh grade was gone, five years nearly shattered to pieces inside your nearly-broken heart. You had no idea when the light would return, or if you would ever act again. It was so closely entwined to him, it physically hurt to walk near the theater or even think of certain plays.

Just like it hurt in the classes you shared. Sitting across the room from each other as far as possible, as opposed to right next to each other and sharing looks and soft smiles. The other students and even the teachers were left in a mild tailspin of confusion. There was never a scene made, nor any words spoken. Glances weren’t exchanged anymore. You never looked in his direction; your heart would ache far too much to handle.

Different pathways were even chosen to get between classes. You didn’t want a chance encounter in the halls, you couldn’t handle it. You guessed he couldn’t either, because you never saw him. There were never any accidental meet ups by your lockers, either.

Your plan had been to skip theater again and take the bus home, riding it around until it dropped you off last. You wouldn’t have to see him, it wouldn’t have to hurt, for that day at least. But you were running late, another teacher asking if you were okay needing brushing off. You needed to hurry and stop by your locker to retrieve your books. The bus was leaving soon; if you wanted to leave, you’d need to rush.

The halls were empty, everyone either in their after school clubs or outside waiting for the buses. You hurried to your locker, fingers anxious to spin the code in, grab your books, and leave. You reached inside, ready to retrieve the books by their spine and disappear from this place for what would feel like a short eternity. The hall was too bright, too empty, too--

“Y/N?”

Your heart skipped a beat, head whipping to the side. Beomgyu stood mere feet from you, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away. There were no longer any stars in his eyes, no warmth or cheer. They were sad, dark pits of self-doubt. They were muted screams, begging for help but not being quite loud enough. The dark circles under his eyes pleaded as well, and the downturn of his lips was what sent your stoic, bored, “I can make this” facade spiraling downwards.

You reached forward instinctively, wanting to cup his cheek with your hand and gently rub away the dark circles with your thumb, but you froze midway. Your voice even hitched. “Beomgyu... you look…”

“Awful? Dreadful? Like hell?” he filled in for you, and you couldn’t help but nod. Your chest was tight, almost to the point you wanted to clutch and tear at your heart to find relief. And the way your best friend was standing, shoulders slumped and body looking one strong wind from caving in like a fragile house of cards, it seemed like his heart was aching, too.

“What happened to us?” you asked, voice quiet and quivering. The hot buildup of tears began behind your eyes, making the edges of your vision blur together in a mass of sad, muted tones. “Why did we—”

“I don’t know,” he answered quickly, anxiously, as if he doesn’t speak fast, he’ll lose you again. He took a tender step forward, leaving only a few feet between you, but it was still too much space. You missed being side by side, close enough to bump into each other’s shoulders or elbow each other’s sides. Beomgyu took another tiny step towards you when you didn't move back. “What were we even fighting about?”

“I don’t know.” You felt like one step away from crumbling inwards, clasping in on yourself and all the way to the cool hallway floor. Your hands were shaking now at your sides, and you gripped your hoodie hem to prevent the shivers from racing up your arms and shaking the rest of you until you shattered into tiny shards. The moment your fingers curled around the soft hem was when you realized: it was his. You’d thrown in on that morning without even thinking. Now, all you could notice was how strongly, how nicely it smelled like him. You took in a solid breath of air to prevent the tears from spilling over, but it was shaky and unconvincing. “Whatever we were fighting about, it’s not worth this. I miss you, Beomgyu.”

His eyes were still empty, no stars in sight, but now they were glossy with tears. His chin quivered, and his lips moved to say something but couldn’t. His fingers curled and uncurled around the leather strap of his messenger bag. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “I miss you. So much it hurts to breathe, so much I can’t stand to look at you in class or else I feel like crying. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please, please, forgive me and be my best friend again. I don’t think I can take life without you anymore.”

The both of you lunged forward at the same time, wrapping each other in a hug. Your arms clung to his neck while his encircled your waist, holding you close. Warm, salty tears finally spilled over, running down your cheek and onto the soft denim of his jacket. By his shaky breaths, you figured he was crying, too. “I don’t want you not in my life anymore either,” you managed, hoping somehow that you’d made sense.

Beomgyu laughed in your arms, drawing you even nearer. “Good, because I really didn’t want to have to explain to your father why I was standing under your window with my guitar instead of just letting myself in like usual.”

You laughed too, but the kind of broken laugh where you find pure happiness just after harsh sadness. Your heart swelled with joy, knowing that Beomgyu was still yours. The time you’d spent apart, not talking or goofing around or shoving each other playfully with stupid grins on both of your faces, had been life-draining. You’d never get it back, even if you spent forever together. You never wanted to go through anything like that ever again.

Beomgyu nestled into the crook of your neck, words whispered so quietly you knew instantly that they were just for you. “We’re each other’s best friends, always. Right?”

You wrap your arms around even tighter, a true smile on your face for the first time in weeks. “Right. Always, Beomgyu, always.”

The apartment is quiet. The shades are drawn open, allowing late afternoon sunlight to spill in and swim around on soft carpet floors, bathing them in warm yellow light. The television in the corner is on but mute, the news airing with no noise. The heater kicked on a minute or so ago, filling the house with nicely warm air. Outside, soft baby snowflakes begin to fall out of the sky, the first snowfall of the season. If the sound had been on, you would have known that the weatherman said the snow was no reason for concern—it wouldn’t accumulate to the point it was dangerous. Just a light dusting, something to make the outdoors look nice and wintry.

But you are unconcerned with whatever the weatherman’s words may be or the consequences of the snow. There are more pressing concerns.

Your voice warbles as you pull out the first aid kit from above the washer and walk back into the living room. “Beomgyu, I’m so so sorry, I—” You bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying; there wasn’t time for that now. The white plastic lid snaps open, and you pull out the gauze, the alcohol wipes, and the bandages with shaky hands. He sits on the edge of the couch, one hand bracing himself on the cushion, the wounded one resting tenderly on his lap.

You lower to stand on your knees and reach out to take the hurt one in yours. You stare down at his split second knuckle, an ugly gash that would surely scar no matter how kindly or tenderly you treated it. Caused because of your stupidity, your recklessness. Caused because you tripped or slipped or something and fell off the wall. Caused because he risked his safety to catch you. You feel your heart break, knowing the scar would be your fault, forever, and you can’t ever fix it no matter how hard you try.

There’s no going back, or rewinding time to try again.

Beomgyu winces as you wipe at the cut with the alcohol wipes, and you mutter sorry after sorry. It’s beginning to not even feel like a real word. You can feel your chest heaving, one step away from a total breakdown as you swim through deep and measured breaths. Guilt pours over you like a thick syrup, sticking to every surface and threatening to drag you down and drown you whole. It fills into the cracks of your armor, bubbling up inside you like a witch’s brew. As you place the gaze and wrap the bandages around his hand, your breaths are coming shallower and shallower, your ability to keep it together fading. When you tie the bandages into place, you let go and drop to sit on your heels, all energy gone. Your head hangs in shame, and you wish you could crawl away and hide somewhere until further notice.

Which would be easier if you didn’t share a damn apartment.

However, your best friend won’t let you.

“Hey,” he calls, his voice soft and soothing. His healthy hand curls under your chin, gently begging you to look up, and you comply. His eyes are calm and filled with stars again, and other emotions you can’t quite place. He smiles kindly, and you can feel your heart shatter at that instant. Right now, you don’t deserve that kindness. Your shoulders spike up and tears begin to spill over. Beomgyu’s face collapses into concern, and he slides off the couch to sit on the floor next to you, legs crossed.

When he places his hands on your shoulders, you try to shake them off. “Please, just...” Your voice falls away. How could you ever apologize for what happened? You knew you shouldn’t have, and yet you did. You knew he seriously disapproved, even if he didn’t voice it totally, and yet you continued. You knew, deep down, that you were getting cocky, and yet you didn’t stop. You had plans on teasing him, mocking him for his concern. The guilt presses down and down, crunching against your head, your shoulders, and your heart until you could scarcely breathe. Quiet sobs heave against your frame, from your torso down to your whole body. You could tell, soon, that you’d simply shake apart into fragments that could never be pieced together again.

You injured your best friend from your own stupidity.

“Hey,” Beomgyu says again, and this time, he reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, safely tucking you under his chin. You don’t resist, and even if you wanted to, you doubt you could have done it past all the crying. He gently rocks you back and forth, rubbing your back, soothing you as one would a small child. Once your sobs have subsided, and your breaths return to a semi-normal state, he speaks again. “I don’t hate you for what happened, if that’s what you think. I could never, I…”

You pull yourself slightly from his grasp, enough to stare at him at eye level, coming out from underneath the warm spot of his chin and neck and shoulder. The emotions swirling around amongst the stars in his eyes are new and unusual to yet, and some part of you feels at home with them. Your voice is quiet, almost hesitant, when you talk. “You... what?”

Beomgyu takes a breath, as if steeling himself. "I have something I need to tell you."

"Need?" you echo, head quirking to one side in confusion.

He nods, staring straight into your eyes. When he speaks, his tone is something you’ve rarely ever heard before. “Need. My chest might burst if I don’t get this off it, and that wouldn’t really help me graduate. Or tell you this. So... and seeming we might as well have almost died…” You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and Beomgyu seems hesitant, but only for a moment. Years of going up on stage have prepared him, but you can tell in this instance, he’s honest, 100% himself, and your best friend, not some actor playing a character for some play.

He takes another breath before: “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes grow wide, a small gasp escapes your lips, but he doesn’t stop.

“No, that’s not right. I know I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for a long time but this... this is different. I want to keep you safe, to wipe away any of your tears. Seeing you sad just... tears at my heart. It hurts. Whenever you're sad or upset, I feel the same way, even if it’s just words over a text message. I really did feel like I was going to die when we had that fight. Living without you was unimaginable, but I had to go four weeks without you. Without your voice, your stupid jokes, your laugh. I guess I was in love with you then, too, I just didn’t know it.”

Words escape you, any witty comeback gone. You stare at him, the honesty in his eyes, thinking you’d see him differently after his confession. But you don’t. He’s still Beomgyu. He’s still your best friend. He’s still your Beomgyu.

One of your hands raises, and you tap yourself on your sternum. “Me?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes now, as if he expected some kind of response like this. “Yes, you. I mean, who else would look up at the night sky, invent a star-monster, then worry about it taking me? I’ve wondered if I was really in love with you, like really actually in love with you. But when you fell and I caught you and you blacked out and I didn’t know why... Y/N, I was so worried. I could feel my heart breaking and I knew that if you never woke up, I wouldn’t ever be the same again.”

He’s mere inches from you, arms around you, body heat radiating off in such pleasant ways you feel okay with melting straight into the floor. His hands move from around your back to ghost around your face, like they want to caress you but are too afraid you might shatter like a fine porcelain under his touch. And his eyes—damn, his eyes. Every star, every galaxy, stirring together to create a beautiful milky way, a gaze so firm and caring you feel as if you’ll never look away. That if you somehow managed, too, you’d feel as if you were missing something dear and important.

Your heart flutters in your chest, its beat stuttery against your wrists. Oh, how on earth did you get here?

Maybe it was when one was so starstruck by the other they stopped watching where they were walking and dripped over someone’s strewn out, overstuffed backpack. When the other offered up a seat beside them during the audition to help settle nerves. Maybe it was when they woke up next to each other after having fallen asleep after binge watching an entire anime season or two, with Netflix on some other autoplay show, one was wondering how the other could look so soft and delicate just after they wake. When the other was happy that they were in each other’s lives. Maybe it was when they declared they’d always be friends, best friends, but now always seems to be more weighty and mean a little more than before.

Maybe, just maybe, this is when they slowly turn towards each other, catching the starry glint in the other’s eye. When they slowly lean forward, ever closer, to the point they can feel one another’s soft breath. When gazes go from eyes to lips and back. When heartbeats slowly start to be harder and louder. When you feel like you might be the one crying because oh heavens—this is it.

But there are things those plays never mention, things the audience can never detect.

They never mention how the palms of hands become sweaty, or how automatic it is to take a soft breath before another pair of lips meets yours, a touch so delicate you finally understand what all the hype is about.

How nice it feels to have two hands cupping your cheeks so gently, their little fear of shattering you gone, or how your own hand curls into the fabric of his shirt as if it’s second nature, the most right thing in the world.

How tantalizingly dizzy a first kiss is.

How soft lips are, how soothingly warm to the point you wouldn’t mind if they were all you felt. How tender goosebumps trail down your spine until something begins to pool in your stomach.

How, even though you’ve become utterly breathless, you can’t stop at just one, because now something that's been building and growing for years has unlocked.

Hands that trail from cheeks to ghost over the nape of the neck, sliding down arms softly to then find purchase at your waist. Kisses, more warm, tantalizing kisses that leave you craving for more. Kisses that roam from lips to chins, then trail down the jaw to tease and nip tender patches of skin on necks, only to return to corners of lips for more wholehearted, dizzying kisses.

You’re warm, almost hot, but it’s so pleasant. What exposed skin you have tingles with feeling, with a craving touch and affection, too. The two of you rest your forehead on one another’s, breath still shallow from all the kisses exchanged, hands softly interlocked with fingers entwined, or as much as one can with bandaged knuckles. He finds his voice first, though even it is soft and a little hoarse. “I should have done that a long time ago, huh?”

You giggle and snuggle closer, nestling into the crook of his neck. You place a kiss underneath his chin. Beomgyu rubs even patterns on your back with his healthy hand while you take the bandaged one in your own, cradling it gently. You pull it up to your own lips, kissing where each knuckle is softly. When you look up, you see the stars glowing in his eyes, brighter than anytime you’ve ever seen them.

Beomgyu sighs, eyes softening at the corners. “I guess the kiss in the play won’t matter anymore, hm?”

You lightly slug in him the shoulder, a love-filled smile playing on your lips. He smiles back in a similar manner, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Oh, and I guess this means you love me back, too.”

People fill and mingle around the diner, looking for an open seat among the crowds of customers. And older couple swoops in as soon as you vacate the booth, not even caring that your dirty dishes were still neatly stacked at the edge awaiting pick up. But you didn’t mind. You push through the doors to wait outside while Beomgyu paid. Even though there’s a small crowd at the counter, you knew exactly which one he was. Beomgyu wore his light blue jacket, the one that accentuated all his features nicely. You’d have to make sure that whatever Beomgyu-sized scarf you bought matched that jacket. He needed to wear it as often as possible.

The first official date was almost over, but you knew there would be many more to come.

Once he’s finished paying, Beomgyu makes a beeline for the door, carefully navigating around all the people crowding the entryway. “Is it always this busy?” you ask when he rejoins you.

Beomgyu shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. But knowing you, the most gorgeous person ever alive, would be there waiting for me was very motivational.”

You do little to hid your smile.

He takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers as if it were second nature. Maybe, it was, and you two had just been trying to ignore it. This walk from the diner back to your apartment had been done countless times before, but this one is special. And now, you think, it really is your apartment.

Beomgyu starts to casually rub gentle circles onto your skin with his thumb. “It’s the perfect kind of weather for me to take off my jacket and give it to you to keep you warm, you know.” He then takes a deep sigh and throws his head back. His next words come out playfully clipped. “But, someone had to be smart and wear their jacket.”

“Well, you’re not dating a fool,” you chuckle. When you notice Beomgyu pouting, eyes downcast away from you, you laugh again and poke him in the shoulder to get his attention. “Thank you anyway, Beomgyu, for always thinking of me.”

He turns back to you, all smiles. “Darling, I don’t think I could stop thinking of you even if I tried.”

“Ew, gross.” You laugh, white curls of breath forming in front of you. But, unlike last time, there is no cold or ice in sight. No dark thoughts and doubts plague you tonight. You’re delightfully warm and happy.

“Ew, gross yourself,” Beomgyu mimics, throwing his tone to match yours. “I’m cold too, by the way. So I guess thanks for thinking of me by thinking of yourself. God, you’re like the smartest person ever.”

As the walk home continues, so does the conversation. "Our parents seemed pretty happy when we told them, huh?" Beomgyu mentions, a smile playing at his lips.

“Maybe they planned it,” you muse. “Maybe the director was in on it. They wrote it all together because they decided it was now or never.”

Laughter fills the air, and even in the dark spots between the lampposts are filled with light.

You nudge your shoulder into Beomgyu’s, garnering his attention. “Can I ask you a question?” When he nods, eager to hear what you have to say, you continue. “Why did you throw your lunch on me that day in seventh grade?”

“That was an honest mistake!” he exclaims, eyes filled with desperate honesty. The blush along his cheeks as he looks away is readily apparent. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with sincerity. “But sitting next to you on audition day wasn’t.”

A soft smile plays at the corner of your lips. “I’m glad I got there late, then.”

“Me, too.” A moment of silence falls between you, but it’s comfortable, like an overtly fluffy blanket made just for two. Afterward, Beomgyu is the first to speak again. “Okay, I’ve confessed something from our past that’s mildly embarrassing yet still endearing. Now it’s your turn.” He turns to you with a mischievous grin on his lips. "’Fess up, darling."

It takes a small instant, before: “Oh! You know that time we stayed up all night and watched anime after that big project? When we woke up the next morning, even though you scared the hell out of me, I thought you were pretty cute.”

Beomgyu’s eyebrows quirk up, his grin grows wider. “Cute? Me? You thought I was cute?”

Pink blush rushes to your cheeks before you smack him on the shoulder. You drop his hand and quicken your pace. “You were cute, you’re not anymore.”

Beomgyu races to catch up with you, takes your hand again, and bumps into your shoulder gently. “Of course I’m not cute anymore. I’m handsome.”

You make a fake gag. “Oh, please!” There’s no sense of lightness when you shove his shoulder.

“Hey, now,” he says, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand, another fake pout on his lips. “Be nice to your boyfriend.”

You scoff. “Is that what you are now?”

“What else would I be? More than friends but not a boyfriend…” Beomgyu’s eyes brighten as he lets go of your hand and snaps his fingers. “Aha! Your husband!”

You shove him with two hands this time. The idea of being with him like that is overwhelming to the max. “Fine, you’re my boyfriend, then.” The word feels foreign on your tongue, but you can easily imagine them growing comfortable. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Beomgyu.

He slings his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close as your apartment slowly grows larger in the distance. He leans his head over and rests it gently on yours. “I guess I lied,” he mutters, and you pull back confused even with his eyes on you, rich and loving. “I told you the play wouldn’t change things between us.”

A smile slowly spreads across your face. “But... we changed in a good way, right?”

Beomgyu answers you with a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, caressing your shoulders kindly and pulling you just a little closer. “Yeah, we changed in a good way.”

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #txt fluff #txt headcanons #txt scanarios #txt imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu headcanons #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #fluff #angst #scarios #imagines #all #prose #txt

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livesworthlivingau · 2 months

Text

Behind the Vale Chapter 22

ISAT/Two Hats spoilers below the break! CW: Blood soaking clothes.

And the OTHER new fit reveal! also by @kuro-is-doodlin

[You slowly stir back awake a couple hours later, groggy and weak. You find the strength to lift yourself up, realizing you were still lying with Nille, who had remained in her soft slumber. Her face holding that soft smile she often sported. You're shaken out of your love struck stare as you notice the dark stains across her clothing, looking back down at yourself to see it having drenched your own clothing as well... at least that horrible shade had faded away.]

[You carefully climb out of bed, trying your best not to disturb Nille. You undress from your soiled outfit, cleaning your face and neck as well. The bandages covering your chest were soaked through as well, slowly peeling them off one strip at a time, revealing that caved in scar across your chest again, just staring for a moment as the nightmare flashed in your mind once again. Seeing your own face twisted into a horrid mask, pulled from your very chest...]

[You take a deep breath, doing your best to shake it off and going back to cleaning yourself. Once you were done cleaning up, you decide to swap to your other new outfit. A backless, near lightless turtleneck tank top with a small cutout on the chest and loose, sheer fabric sleeves that go around the rear as well, along with a pair of dark shaded, tapered capris. The outfit complimented by your usual gloves and boots of course.]

[You admire yourself in the mirror for a moment, you're grateful that it get your mind off of everything else for the moment. The moment is short lived though as you notice Nille's still slumbering form in the mirror. You decide to take a walk, needing some fresh air to clear your mind, you think. You creep to the door, very carefully opening it up and shutting it behind you, trying to be as silent as possible.]

"Oh good morning!" [You almost leap out of your boots as the sudden voice startles you, turning to see the old woman who runs the inn just leaving her room as well. You take a second to catch your breath as she lets out a little chuckle.]

"Oh, sorry dear, didn't mean to scare you! I hope the two of you made up, you gals are so cute together~." [She remarks in a hopeless romantic way. You try your best to hide the emotions on your face, though you weren't entirely sure how to filter through the countless emotions rushing through you at the moment. You just give a nervous smile and go along with it.]

"N-Nothing but a silly little spat is all! We've been through far worse, I assure you~." [Stars why are we humoring this?]

"That's great to hear, sweetie! Well just so you know, most places won't be open this early of course, but the park on the north side has such a lovely serenity to it, watching the sunrise from there is breathtaking~. I'm sure your girlfriend would love to see it too." [She continues with her assumptions. This is what we get for playing along...]

"I-I'll keep that in mind, thank you very much m'dame~!" [You try your best to be polite, rushing towards the stairs as you speak to ensure she couldn't get any more words out, waving goodbye just as you slip out of sight, heading out of the front door and shutting it behind you, leaning back against it with a relieved sigh.]

[The cool night air blows through you... there's something comforting about the cold chill cutting through your form, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long while. You place a hand over your chest, the little cut out on your top revealing the tip of your scar to the air, sending a shiver through your whole body. The sensation was uncomfortable, yet welcome. Just another thing about you that was different now, finally different, no longer that damned star you trapped yourself as... You struggle out a deep breath through the chill of night and head off to the park the innkeeper mentioned.]

[It was peaceful, serene, so still and perfect. Almost as if the land had been frozen again in some beautiful way. You'd believe that if not for the cool breeze lightly rustling the grass as it flows by. You take a seat at one of the benches, just absorbing the scene before you, enjoying the cold air, even as you begin to shake and shiver from the consistent cold.]

[You look up at the night sky, seeing all the stars twinkling and shining as always... They feel so distant, more than they ever have before... you're not sure if that's a good thing or not at this point. You glance about them all, trying to find something, anything to recognize, anything that feels familiar. Then you finally spot it, a star, one that feels brighter, stronger, oddly so... It calls to you, like a guide... that must be your wish. You close your eyes and struggle for another deep breath... It's almost time... we can feel it. Stars we're not ready...]

"Vale?" [You perk up, turning to see Nille approaching, wearing her cloak over her form, likely to cover up your blood that still stained her clothes.]

"I thought you'd ran off again..." [Crab... we probably should have left a note or something...]

"O-Oh, sorry, I just... needed some fresh air." [Nille sighs in relief... then her face starts to darken, the panic fading away and she takes in your whole outfit.]

"Th-Those are quite the threads you got on, there." [Your own face darkens a bit too, looking away.]

"Th-Thank you! I thought it was rather stunning, is it not~?" [You try to keep your little flirty mask up, but you still can't even manage to look at her. You quickly perk up as she was suddenly sitting beside you, her arms wrapping around yours and holding close.]

"Change, it's freezing out here, how can you stand this? I mean crab, you're even shivering!"

"Hehe, it actually feels sort of n-nice." [You start to explain through your chattering teeth.]

"I-I ran so hot as a star, it's nice to feel cold finally~."

"Well that's great for you, but I'm freezing! Can we go back inside now?" [She asks, causing you to chuckle some, glancing back up at the sky, looking at that star.]

"Not yet... Do you see it?" [You ask, helping point it out to her. She looks up to it as her annoyed, uncomfortable look swaps to one of awe.]

"Th... That's... Bonnie is that way, I can feel it!"

"It seems my wish came true..." [Your own expression falls to a more bittersweet one. You perk back up as you feel Nille's fingers intertwine with yours, holding your hand tightly.]

"Hey... It's gonna be alright, I'm here for yah, and I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

"... Thank you Nille." [You sigh out, looking up to the sky again as you notice the light of the sun starting to poke through, just savoring the gorgeous sight of the sun rising. Nille's head lightly lays onto your shoulder as she watches. You both sit in silence, taking in the beautiful view together.]

#lives worth living au #lwlau #isat au #isat spoilers #isat fanfic #isat #in stars and time fanfic #two hat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #isat two hats #btvau #behind the vale

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ahhhwomen · 1 year

Text

Not A Toy?

Trigger Happy AU

Part 3

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Ik ik, everything has been written in very excruciating detail so far, this one being no exception, but I promise I'm going to up the speed and intensity very soon. Also, I am sorry if this one is a bit rushed, I just wanted to get it out there. Def not my favorite chapter...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language; all mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI 18+

Warnings Part 3: Mommy kink, stalker Wanda, kidnapping (?), slightly stupid reader

Summary: Maybe you are more to Wanda than just a Toy.

Word Count: 1157

Your apartment had never been the best. When you moved in, months prior, that much became apparent. It was filthy, small, and there were large gaps between some of the floorboards. However, money was tight after you were cut off from your family, and the neighborhood wasn’t the worst. So, you took what you could.

You had lived there for all of 2 weeks before you got a roommate. In those 2 weeks, you tried to make it more pleasant and feel more like home. You got a carpet to hide the large gaps, you moved the furniture to make it feel like more space, and you deep cleaned.

As you came to learn, Jessica didn’t care much for that sort of stuff. Between college, working a part-time job, having a boyfriend, and loving parties, Jessica was barely even there. She had never bothered to do much around the apartment, she never cleaned, and never took any interest in changing things around.

It's therefore safe to say you are a bit confused as you take in the scene in front of you.

Why is your coach upside down?

You have no clue how you didn’t see it until now. It wasn’t like you, you had always praised yourself on your observation skills.

That damn policewoman was doing a number on you.

You are just about to pull your phone out when you hear a creak, another issue with the floorboards. The sound came from Jessica's room.

Your apartment has felt off ever since you came home, but now it feels like you are somewhere else entirely. Suddenly everything was colder, and your skin prickles with chills.

Your feet slowly inch closer to Jessica's door, trying to stay silent, and your hands push gently on the handle. Sweat runs down your back and you hold your breath, the tension is heavy in the air. With the handle down, you being to put a slight weight into the door. The door creaks open to reveal….

Nothing.

Your eyes scan the room, everything the same as when you left this morning. You let out a shaky breath, relieved, you close the door again.

You remind yourself to send a quick text to your roommate about the furniture rearrangement before you walk back to the bathroom.

///////

Wanda bites back a groan as the door presses lightly against her. She can hear your hands shaking against the handle.

She had meant to get out before you came home, but you turn out to be a fast walker.

After her work was done for the day Wanda had spent a substantial amount of time tracking this roommate of yours. She was a busy girl. She worked at a local diner most of the week but had Mondays and Wednesdays off. She hung out with her boyfriend, that lived 2 blocks away, almost every day. She took a liking to people, always having to be around someone. She seemed to be your complete opposite.

By what intel Wanda gathered, you were a quiet girl, who liked to keep to yourself. You were sweet and always willing to help, but large groups of people made you uncomfortable.

You were perfect. Well-mannered, sweet, lonely. A good girl.

Hers.

Wanda is good at hiding her less savory side. Obsessive behavior never looked good on paper. She had only ever allowed herself to indulge in smaller doses. However, Wanda couldn’t just fuck this urge out with a random pretty girl she picked up like she was used to.

No.

Wanda needed you.

She needs to have you, nurse you, fuck you. She needs to hold you, have you wrapped around her like the little kitten you are. Hers, and only hers.

She just needed to push you a little.

So, she did what anyone would do, and began staging her crime scene.

Your apartment wasn’t exactly big, so how would a big fight play out in such a small space? Wanda was testing your living room when she heard your keys jingle in the hallway.

“I’m home!”

Wanda smiled a little.

You must have been so sleepy. There was a little crack in the door Wanda could look at you through, and you walked right passed the flipped coach and started getting your dinner ready. Wanda had to hold back a disapproving sigh as you picked up a microwavable dinner.

You were a growing girl who requires proper sustenance. Not, whatever was in those plastic tubs.

As the timer on the microwave counted down, you looked lost in thought. Wanda wondered what you were thinking about as your teeth sank into your lip, your scrunched-up nose indicating you were worried. Wanda's hands griped the door, if something was bothering her girl, it bothered Wanda.

Luckily you snapped out of it rather fast and got to eating.

You occur to be quite the messy eater. It was adorable the way you would huff in annoyance as the table became smothered in your mess.

Wanda made a mental note to always feed you on a mat. She didn’t want her floors to be stained like your table was.

You stood up.

Wanda couldn’t get a proper view of the bathroom from where she stood. She had intended on moving just a little bit to the left when her foot hit a loose tile.

Shit!

Wanda could hear you try to sneak over to the door, and she saw the handle slowly move downwards. If she made even the tiniest of noises Wanda knew the gig would be over. She pressed herself into the wall and held her breath.

You paused for a second when the door was almost all the way open. Wanda could hear you sigh. Then close the door again.

You make your way back to the bathroom.

Wanda stands there baffled for a second before sneaking out when she picks up the water running.

Who doesn’t open the door all the way when they think an intruder is in the house?

You just have to be happy it was only Wanda.

///////

“SOMEONE PLEASE!” The filth sobs as her voice echoes back to her.

Wanda smirks.

Don’t worry, it will all be over very soon.

#mommy!wanda #dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #ahhhwomen

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ohmygawdyoufoundnemo · 2 months

Text

She Plays Bass

Bangchan x reader

•Part 1•

(Brief mention of 'noona', which means older female sibling or older sister in Korean, only because I am a couple of years older than Chan. If you're not a noona, don't worry too much. I just hope you enjoy this read while you're chilling🙏🏻)

Y/N has hit the jackpot when passing her audition and joins Stray Kids on their world tour. But what happens when the leader meets the new girl?

✨

With the adrenaline still pumping through my veins from this whole morning, my leg starts to jiggle up and down waiting impatiently for my mum to pick up her phone. I could scream right now.

“Hello, darling. Are you on your way home?”

“Hi. Yeah I’m on the bus now.”

“Well, how did it go? Did they like you? Did you get it? Actually, tell me when you get back, ok? I’m just shopping at the moment.” I honestly feel like I could burst into tears, one: because I’ve just been running, which I never do, and two: the best news I could get after trying so hard to discover myself and where I want to be. I’m going on tour! Little old me is going to be playing to thousands of people worldwide!

“Ok. I’ll be home soon. Love you ma.”

“Love you too sweetheart.” We hang up and I could literally scream the roof of the bus apart. It seems too surreal to be true. After stressing so much this whole week about this audition, not being able to sleep and wondering what to play, it’s finally come fruition and a weight has just been lifted from my shoulders. The company came to London from South Korea for the auditions for new touring musicians for their groups, and now I’m going to be one of them! But the thing is, I have no idea what band I’ll be playing for or even when.

Later on that night over dinner, I tell mum of the events and some mishaps of everything that happened. She almost broke a rib or two pulling me into a hug when I told her that I would be officially touring with a band once I hear back from my agent.

“That is so exciting! My baby going into the world. I’m so happy for you!” She gives another big squeeze, swaying us from side to side just as my phone vibrates in my back pocket. “Oh! Who is it?” she asks before pulling away and cleaning up the dining table.

“I think it’s them. I’ll be right back. Hello?”

"Hello Y/N, it's Anna." My agent’s voice rang through the phone, easing the butterflies in my stomach for a moment.

“Hi Anna, how are you?”

“I’m very good! I also wanted to congratulate you on your audition today, they absolutely loved you! And we have a position lined up for you.”

“That’s great!” Already? That was quick!

“I just want to give you some more information about the success of your audition and going forward, within the company all travel and accommodation expenses are paid for so you don’t have to worry about anything. And, of course, if you have any insurance with your equipment we can help with that as well.“ This really is too good to be true! “With that being said, we would like to join us in Tokyo, Japan for the start of the tour.”

Wait. What? JAPAN?!

“When? Is there a date when I would have to be there for rehearsals? Sorry, I’m a bit jittery.”

“That is ok. Rehearsals will be on the eighteenth of this month but we would like you to spend some time with us and the rest of the band around the fifteenth.” My feet instantly carry me to my room where they stop in front of my calendar. That’s in six days! “You will have time to explore a little bit of Japan with one of our guides, you will also have your own hotel room set up, you will of course have the choice to explore the city on your own but in regards to security it would be...” I think I blanked out everything else Anna was saying. My ears were ringing, I was getting light headed looking around at all of my stuff in my bedroom. I’m going to Japan to start a world tour with a band I don’t even know. Six days. Six days until I leave my home to bed hop in hotel rooms around the world for god knows how long! “So, what do you say?”

Before I can even think about my answer, my mouth opens, “Absolutely!” Shit! How much stuff should I pack?!

“That’s great news! Before I go, do you have any questions you would like to ask?”

“Is it alright to ask, the band that I’ll be playing with or for...”

“Ah, yes! I thought you’d might ask. Usually we don’t disclose this information until closer to the time but since you signed a contract with the company and will be joining us very soon there are no issues. So you will be rehearsing and being a touring musician for Stray Kids.”

Six days came and went so quickly that I could barely focus on anything. I nearly forgot my carry-on luggage, headphones and even my iPad which has all the bass and synthesiser recordings on it. Luckily my mum helped me with the checklist, knowing very well that I will forget something, before leaving me at the airport with Anna. Speaking of whom, after a very long journey, we are on our way to the hotel in Tokyo, Japan. Each part of this experience is so fast-paced with no time to take in the huge shift this has made to my life that I almost cocoon myself in my hoodie in the backseat of the car, yet the Tokyo Dome won’t allow me to stay slumped for too long as Anna points out the venue from where we’ve stopped at the traffic lights.

“It’s huge!” I say to her in Korean, turning to Anna like an excited child seeing Christmas lights for the first time. She laughs at me. The thing about Anna is she’s also my agent as I was struggling to find any gigs in the past three years. The audition was like a big break for me to finally do something I love. She had also been the one to encourage me to learn Korean, when we first started talking while I attended college she had only learned the basics in English not too long before. So to save her more hardship and to learn something new, I took up a side quest to learn her language and she’s just embraced me and shares her culture with me.

“Wait until we get inside in a couple of days.” She says just as she goes to answer her phone. As we get closer, I pull on my Dr. Martens trying my best not to get dirt on the seat as well as getting concussed by the front passenger seat.

The butterflies are throwing up in my stomach.

I couldn’t close my mouth as I gawked out the window overlooking the whole of Tokyo. Every day since I’ve been here, I’ve done the same thing, wake up early to gawk at the sunrise, have breakfast, message my mum for a little while, stare out the window whilst getting dressed or brushing my teeth for my scheduled day with Anna, taking picture after picture of the tourist attractions. My legs hurt so much but it’s so worth it!

How am I here? Well, I know how but it’s like an out-of-body experience to be standing here in a hotel room, in Japan, on the same floor as Stray Kids. Rehearsals are tomorrow and my stomach is doing somersaults.

I’m still rubbing the sleep from my eyes, my body is too tired from the adventures I've had so far in the past three days to lug around my bass guitar on my back. I’m being lead through the maze of a hallway in the arena by a member of staff. Plus I hadn’t slept too well last night, I miss my mum, my cat, now I miss Anna but she’s a busy woman but I’m now left to my own sleepy devises at rehearsals. I had already met the rest of my band mates the other night over dinner. They’re so cool and so welcoming! I also met the stylists for tonight which woke me up a little bit more after seeing my outfits for the next week. Chef’s kiss!

The engineers help me with setting up my equipment and my ear pieces that there's no time to really take in the gargantuan size of the dome. I hear the drums, guitar and keyboard practising the moment I lock them in.

The members were getting ready to go to the stage, the stylists getting everything prepared for later on tonight, their manager rushing about making sure everything is all good to go for rehearsals, Bangchan was writing little messages to STAYS on Bubble with some comments making him smile and blush when out of nowhere, Han makes a noise in surprise which causes the others to look up at what he’s pointing to. Chan looks up to see Han gesturing to the TV that was switched on for background noise, it was filming live footage from the stage. Chan gulped down some saliva when he saw a new band member setting up.

Is it warm in here?

“Who’s that? Is that a new bass player NMixx?” I.N. asks while glancing between his phone and the TV. Chan knew the question was to no one in particular but he was taken back to respond. She was pretty, really pretty. The breeze flowing through her hair pushes some strands over her shoulder as the band plays a random tune, the boys stare in wonder only for a few seconds before the camera shot changes to a scope of the venue.

“She was pretty!” Han exclaims as he’s being set up with equipment for soundcheck and being handed a microphone.

“Stop staring!" Minho gently swats at Han, "You’re getting drool all over the carpet!” scuffing up Han’s bed hair, the member of staff helping Han adjust his monitor waiting patiently for them to stop slapping each other.

“Hyung,” Chan finally looks away from the TV too to see Felix holding his spare t-shirt. “Can I borrow this?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Who was she? He asks himself just as she comes up on the screen again. She looks over at the cameraman, shyly waving and smiling. Chan couldn’t help but notice the colour of her big round eyes. Uh oh.

“Wow! Never seen Chan-hyung with big heart eyes before.” Changbin says getting the boys attention, pumping his chest at his leader. Chan just glares at him, trying to keep him at arms length but ends up breaking into a red-faced laugh while chasing him around the room.

“If you need help with anything, give us a signal.” He says, making the gestures of signals but I get distracted when I feel eyes on me. I glance over the soundman’s shoulder to see the group of guy’s looking over at me. Through my ear piece just as one speaks into their microphone, I hear, “Hey! Hello.” One waves at me, followed by the others. He walks closer with a huge smile. “I’m Han and these guys are my friends." They each wave again. "What’s your name?” I introduce myself in Korean which surprises them and makes me laugh. “WOW! Oh, are you our new bass player?”

I nod, just as a song starts he jogs away.

"Let's get it!" We start with S-Class and go into Superbowl. The flow is so good! Me and the boys are really happy with it. I sort out my bass synthesiser for the next song just as another member comes into my peripheral.

“Hi.” I feel my cheeks grow warm as he smiles at me.

“Hello.”

“That was really good but I can’t hear the bass so well in my ...”

“Oh, yeah. They said they’ve been having minor issues with it but it should be better for tonight.”

“Cool! Err.... I’m Chris, by the way.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” Is it really that warm out here?

“Hyung! Stop flirting with our new girl and get back here!” Minho yells away from the microphone causing Chan to shy away but ultimately wave at me with a ‘see you later’. Bangchan tackles Lee Know into a back hug with much retaliation.

This is going to be fun!

It’s been a couple of weeks since starting tour and it’s been amazing! Crazy busy with non-stop moving and airport travels and hotel bed hopping but other than that I can’t knock this experience. Especially since Stray Kids have taken me in. Almost every night we play, either Changbin, Han or mainly Felix come over and rock out with the band, hyping us up and wordlessly letting us know we were doing a great job.

Almost a month ago, I never would have thought I would be hanging with any of them, but usually Han comes over to play guitar with me playing songs before or after rehearsals. The chaos is real and it’s heart-warming to have so many people around who are so supportive and bring out the best chaos in you.

“Y/N noona?!” I glance up from my iPad taking out one of my airpods, I’m sat on the carpeted floor adjusting bass tones for the songs for the set to see Changbin sitting across from me, all dressed up for later on, which only reminds me that it’ll be my turn soon. Restless, full of bounding energy which he’s been told to save for tonight.

“Dwaeki?”

“Noona! I’m bored.”

“Where are the others?” I’ve only just noticed it’s just me, Changbin, I.N. and a couple of stylists in here. “How long have I been working?”

“Too long! Pay attention!” his whining makes me chuckle, I try to hide it to not upset him but he notices and starts getting irritable. “Stop laughing at me. I’m serious.” He starts smiling, not taking himself seriously.

“What do you want from me? What do you want to do?” he ponders for a moment.

“I don’t know. Help me!” while slumping his head on the table, he quickly retracts it with a small yet dramatic yelp in pain. I reach over to rub his forehead. He slaps the table as if offended which makes me laugh harder.

“Be careful Changbin! You want to be able to remember lyrics tonight.”

“Ah!” he pulls away with a sneaky look on his face. “NMixx.” He points to the live footage of NMixx on stage.

“What?” I ask as he quickly gets up and dances to the start of ‘Love Me Like This’. “I saw the video. You know it. Come on!”

“Absolutely not.” How did he know about that video?

“Noona! Noona! Noona!" I.N. starts chanting. Changbin pulls me up and before I know it, he’s filming us both dancing to the song, all while I.N. sits and watches. The others walk in just as me and Changbin finally finish. I must have gone red in the face when I saw Han and Bangchan just grinning.

“What’s going on?” Chan asks as I quickly go back to what I was doing before.

Changbin shows them the video of him and Y/N dancing along to NMixx. Bangchan sneaks a glance over at Y/N who’s too caught up in the new bass system that she’s been obsessed with for days now.

There’s a niggling feeling he just can’t shake off when he’s around her. He likes her a lot! She’s cool, amazing bass player and has a great flow with the band, she gets along really well the Kid's too. It’s like she takes care of them when he's too busy which gives him time to work or gives him a breather even just for a moment. She has a cool sense of style, right now she’s wearing her classic pink beanie, crop hoodie and black denim shorts and barefoot while sitting cross-legged at the table bobbing her head along to what she’s listening to whilst taking notes, there’s just something warm and natural about her. Even when she’s playing to thousands of STAYS, he’s always noticed that glow in her eyes while looking out at them, and her personality never changes. He recently saw a video shared around on TikTok of fans who had been watching our opening acts in quite an unbearable heat and while our set was being put together, she handed out extra water bottles for STAYS.

“Hyung?” Chan pulls his gaze away, not realising he’s probably been gawking at her for a bit, hoping that she didn't catch him doing it. He helps Felix adjust his necklace. “Hyung.” Chan hums in response to Felix as Y/N brings Seungmin his water bottle as he does his vocal warm-up just as Hyunjin tackles her in a side hug. “You’ve been quiet all day. Everything good?”

“Yeah. Really good.”

“You sure?” Felix asks peering over his shoulder with a little smirk, Chan couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N again to see her taking selfies with Hyunjin and Changbin. His heart flutters a little as she smiles at whatever Lee Know said about their poses which gets more of a response out of Changbin. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her?”

This brings Chan back to reality like a smack in the face.

“What are you talking about?” Felix gives him a knowing look. “I can’t just...do that. It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be complicated." Felix turns around to see Y/N giggling at Changbin and Lee Know bickering, nearly breaking out into a play fight. "She won’t break your heart, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Of course Felix would say that. The Kids practically adore her.

Lee Know keeps her at arms length but respects her and is fond of her, and her comebacks to his playful insults catch him off guard most of the time, they're not mean but just as good. Changbin see’s her like a sibling, and now a dance partner or someone he challenges when he tries to tease her because she’s our noona which sometimes makes her feel bad yet they have a special bond. Hyunjin has shown her more of his artwork, he even made her a picture for her birthday which she adores and she’s shown him how to create his own music. Han adores her because she works hard to help us sound better on stage and how caring she is to us. Felix, well he isn’t shy to the fact that they’ve become close friends and dotes on her. Seungmin, like Lee Know, shows a lot of respect for noona. And I.N., if any one of them follows her like a lost puppy, apart from Felix or Changbin when he’s in the mood to bother her or simply wants her attention, it’s him.

But where does that leave him? Chan breathes out a sigh. They get along really well but something feels stagnant. He isn’t worried about her breaking his heart though, he’s more worried he’ll explode with professions of adoration and scare her away.

“Where are you going?!” Chan calls out as Y/N hurriedly takes out her earpieces and takes off her equipment. The Kid’s keeping a distance from the firing line.

“Out for a walk! Is that ok with you?! God!” Y/N storms off stage, snatching her jacket from it's place on the bass holder on the way out. The others stare cautiously between the two, seven pairs of eyes following Y/N as she disappears around the side stage, then over to their leader who is almost red in the face. Rehearsals just finished but throughout the set, things just kept going wrong which ended up with the soundcheck taking longer than usual. If Chan were to name a few, the boys were more chaotic as usual but for some reason it just got to him today, then the sound system kept messing up which messed up their queues and they had to restart the song, Han and Seungmin’s microphones kept glitching, then Y/N said she had forgotten her iPad backstage which has all pre-adjusted bass tones on it, that was the final straw in the span of the two hours since the minor late start to rehearsals, that’s when Chan snapped. Not at everyone or anything, but at Y/N.

This confused the Kid’s so much after the new revelation they had witnessed over the past few months between their leader and their new bassist.

The air was thick with tension and it wasn’t great to be around. The members were silent, waiting for Chan to make the first move. He took a few breaths before turning around as he removed his ear piece from under his beanie.

“Sorry hyung.” Some of them mumble as he takes off as well.

✨

*So that was Part 1, I hope you enjoyed it! I know it's looooong but I haven't written anything like this in 3 years so I may have gotten a little excited or enthusiastic to get this out of my system*

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #chan x reader #bangchan skz #jeongin #changbin #lee know #seungmin #i.n.#hyunjin #felix #bang chan

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freestyle-crocodile-trashpile · 11 months

Text

Mama's Boy

Summary: You didn't understand why you felt so bad while at Miles house

Type:Scenario:Angst:Miles Morales & M!Reader

Version: Itsv

I never understood why I felt so horrible at Miles's house. Every time we were there while his parents were home, I felt like crying. I didn't get it. His parents were amazing, really nice, and welcoming, yet they made me feel so bad. I always had a sad look on my face when I left, a strong feeling that made me want to break down right there in tears. Or maybe it was because I had to go home? It never clicked to me. I loved going to his house, and every chance I got, I was over there. Luckily, Miles and I were good friends. His home felt more like home than mine. I didn't get it, I loved my home, it was cozy and nice, I didn't get it. Especially today.

I was over at Miles's house, laughing while playing some video games in his room. I was wining, and he was trying to distract me.

"Admit it Miles! You suck at this game!" I laughed at him.

"No! Your cheating, you dirty cheater!" He practically pouted as he pushed me away with his foot.

I laughed harder and bumped him with my shoulder, causing us to start shoving and pushing each other like brothers. Miles tacked me onto his bed, putting me in a headlock as he gave me a nasty noogie. His mom opened the door and stopped, huffing playfully before chucking

"Boys, get off each other and come eat." She smiled at us before closing the door.

I could feel my smile brighter slightly, Rio always made me feel warm. But not in a love way, in a homey way, like I was truly welcome and wanted there. It was odd. Me and Miles got up and went to the dining room, shoving each other before racing to the table. I got there first and flipped him off as his parents weren't looking. He did it back before we both started to eat. After dinner, Miles and I sat on the couch, just talking to each other his dad walked over.

"Y/n, do you need a ride home? We could drop you off at home if you want" Jefferson smiled at us, his car eyes in hand.

"Oh, no. I can walk, you don't have to drive me" I returned his smile, not wanting him to have to drive me home this late.

"You sure? Its a quick drive" Jefferson looked a alittle worried.

"Yeah, it's a nice walk of fresh air anyways" It made me feel giddy that someone was worried about me.

Jefferson nodded and walked away, not wanting to push anymore. I turned to Miles, and we continued talking for a bit before I went home. It was a peaceful walk, the quiet and chill night drowning out most of my thoughts. I let out a soft sigh as I unlocked the front door and walked in. Immediately, I'm welcomed by my drunk mother and passed out on the couch. This was a normal occurrence. My mother was always drunk and drinking, even when I was younger. It was normal, it's all I knew, when I was born she started drinking again. My mother probably drank while she was pregnant either way. I sighed and locked the front door before walking over to her and drapping a blanket over her. I gently kissed her forehead before mumbling a soft good night and going to bed. The next morning, I woke up to my mother yelling at me from downstairs. When I went downstairs, I almost got hit with a bottle. I was so tired I didn't even hear what she said before storming out the house. I stare at the door, confused before quickly rushing to clean up the glass and going back to bed. I went to Miles house again today, I waved happily and instantly noticed the look of concern on his face

"Y/n? Why is your hand bloody? And your arm" Miles sounded really confused, and worried.

Miles stood up and walked over to me, I narrowed my eyebrows and looked down at my hand, turning it my hand around and gasping. When did this happen?

"I'm not sure..." I was confused, I wasn't fully sure how this happened. Maybe the glass from earlier?

I shrugged, but Mike's gently grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom and patched me up, cleaned my wounds, and bandaged it skillfully. Probably because his mom was a nurse. The same thing happened today: I messed around with Miles, played video games, talked, ate dinner, and went home. My mom wasn't home. It was quiet in the house, meaning a peaceful night of sleep. The following morning, my mom yelled at me again, hitting me a few times before leaving and making me clean up the kitchen from her. Then I went to Miles house. As I was over there, he looked concerned but didn't say anything, and that day I realized I mainly ate at Miles house, my mother didn't cook much, and I couldn't really order take out, I didn't have the money for it.

I felt it again.

When I was at his house I could feel my heart beat louder in my ears as I watched him hug his mom and say a small I love you before we both left the house to go to the store. I was quiet for a bit. There was a growing pain in my heart, like I had been stabbed or someone tore my heart. I didn't know why. Was it the affection? I never really got affection from my mother. When I got home, my mom was drunk, but awake. And she was pissed. I gulped and tried to sneak by, that didn't work. I slept in pain and paranoid that night. When I went to Miles house he was quiet when he saw me, staring at me with these big eyes of concern. Why? Was there something wrong?

"Y/n...are you okay? You keep coming here with...injuries. " Miles voice was quiet and soft, something I wasn't fully used to. It was filled with so much. Concern.

"Oh, that? Don't worry about it" You didn't want to worry him, when he saw your reassuring smile he gave a small smile back and didn't ask about it.

When you went home today, you finally realized why you hated going home from Miles's house. The first thing you saw was your parents fighting. Your mom was clearly drunk. Your heart sank as you stood in the doorway watching your parents fight. They did this a lot. You sighed and walked by them, mumbling a small hello before going to your room. You wanted to go back to Miles's house, where there was no yelling or fighting there, it's nice at his house. Peaceful, but you have to wait until tomorrow, like always.

[A/n:I'm not sure if I like this or not. I hope you enjoyed]

#spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman x male reader #miles morales #miles x male reader #miles x reader #spiderman itsv

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ericsprincess · 1 year

Text

awake I love this

Your hot roommate is a bed dweller.

~~~

“Oh shit- Jesus, you scared me,” you stop in the kitchen doorway, caught off guard by the unexpected presence in the kitchen. It’s 6 a.m. and you just woke up, blearily wandering out of your bedroom to make breakfast and get ready for your shift at work. You’re barely awake and what you didn’t expect was your roommate being already there, making some toast.

Younghoon, your roommate, standing in the kitchen, was a very unusual sight. Not only the “in the kitchen” part, but also the “standing” one. When you first moved in, you knew your roommate would be a man, and you were quite concerned about what the future cohabitation would look like. You didn’t know him, it was just a friend of a friend who gave you a tip about Younghoon looking for someone to rent his spare bedroom to. Therefore you were afraid about the endless possibilities of how everything could go wrong - he could be too messy, too loud, bring too many people home, or worse, perving on you. But you didn’t really have a choice, so you took the offer and moved in. Thankfully, none of your worries proved to be true - not only Younghoon appeared to be a completely chill guy, but it would be really easy to even forget you live with someone.

The thing is, your roommate spends way too much time in his bed. First you thought he might be sick, but he didn’t look that way. But save for going to school and occasionally out for either necessary errands or rare outings with friends, he spends all his leisure time in bed. Everytime you feel bored and you go to his room just to chat about anything, he’s under the blankets, either scrolling on his phone or reading, or watching a movie. He plays computer games out of bed too, and you’ve seen him even study while laying down. Thankfully, he seems to be a clean person, so at least you don’t have to worry about him dwelling in some gross nest. It seems to be just an odd quirk of his otherwise normal and nice - as you were pleased to discover - personality.

He also seems to be quite aware of this and doesn’t seem to care much. When you asked him once, why is he alway in bed, after a few weeks of living together, he just lazily turned his head to you and replied “Because I’m always ready, Y/N” and winked at you.

So considering all that, you take a little bit of time to admire the rare sight of vertical Younghoon.

He’s very tall and while he’s kinda skinny, his frame is broad. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and black t-shirt and you think no one should look this good, while spreading some butter on a toast, having just rolled out of bed.

He looks over his shoulder at you, amused by your outcry. “Good morning Y/N. I’m making breakfast, do you want some? Coffee is over there,” he smiles at you, pointing at the full coffee pot.

“Yes, please,” you reply, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table, sipping at it and just observing Younghoon going about making more toast. You could really get used to the sight of a hot man making you breakfast every day, you dream a little.

Speaking of men, you remember something. “By the way,” you say, “I’m going out with friends tonight so, you know..” you’re not sure how to finish the sentence and tell him that you might end up bringing someone home to fuck. But he gets it anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ll have my headphones on, don’t worry,” he teases you and you can feel your face getting red. It’s not that you’re that loud, because you know you’re not. But he might have caught on to it anyways, and you’re not sure how you feel about your nice roommate overhearing you having sex. It feels both embarrassing, but also kind of hot, seeing that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Does he perhaps like it? You wonder, but your train of thought gets interrupted by a plate full of toasts set in front of you. Younghoon sits across the table and you spend the morning just chatting about news, until you both realize you have to run to work and school respectively, and the whole topic of overhearing is forgotten.

~~~

You come home from work and rush straight to your bedroom. You had to stay late at work to finish up something so now your time to get ready for going out is diminished and it’s barely enough to take a shower, throw on the skimpiest dress you own, fix your makeup and be out of the door.

So you do exactly that. You take a shower and pick a tiny black dress with straps across the back. You know you look good and you want to wear something that gives a clear signal you don’t want to go home alone tonight, but at the same time, you’re not that used to being dressed this provocative and suddenly you feel insecure. You don't have time to take a photo and bother your friends and wait until they reply with their opinions so you take the only other option you have and march straight to Younghoon’s room.

Thankfully - and as expected - he’s in his bed, just scrolling on his phone.

“Hey, Hoonie, do you have a minute?” you ask, peeking through the opened door.

“Yeah, sure, what do you need?” he replies, so you enter the room.

“Do you think this dress is too much?” you ask. He looks at you, but doesn’t reply. Instead of that he just stares and you can see his eyes following down every part of your body. He’s blatantly checking you out, you realize.

The awkward silence is getting more awkward by the second, until he just throws off-handedly “Yeah, you can go out like that. You look good,” and turns back to his phone. It feels like a dismissal a little, but you can see his ears are red.

“Uh…okay thank you, I’ll get going then,” you beep and not waiting for his answer you rush out of his room. What the fuck was that?? Your brain screams, having just experienced this awkward moment, way too charged for how your interactions with your roommate usually went. You put on your heels and off you go.

~~~

Well, this was a bust, you sigh while tapping code to your apartment door. Not only did you not see a single decently looking guy, but it felt like tonight was the night that every sleazebag in the city decided to crawl out. So you just stuck to your girlfriends, had a few shots and only went dancing together with them. It was fun enough, but the main point of the outing - to find someone to sleep with - completely fell through, so you came back home tipsy, frustrated and kinda horny.

You don’t feel like sleeping yet so you head over to Younghoon’s room to see if he’s still up and maybe goad him into watching a movie together or something. You knock twice and don’t wait for a reply, just silently open the door in case he’s asleep already.

But he isn’t. The room is dark and the only light there is coming from his laptop screen on the nightstand. There is some movie playing silently, but it doesn’t seem that he’s watching it.

You can’t really see it well, but Younghoon’s eyes are closed and he’s squirming and sighing and his hand is moving under the blanket. Is he..masturbating? Is the first thought that comes up in your brain, but it’s just a split second until he notices your presence and sits up a little. “Hey, Y/N, you’re back already? How did it go? You came back alone?” he breathes out, trying to sound normal.

“Uh yeah…it was tragic,” you reply but you’re not sure what to say next, your brain completely stuck on what you saw earlier and while you’re not drunk, the few shots you drank are suddenly giving you liquid courage to jump the gun. “Actually…Hoonie, remember when I asked you once….” you start.

“Yeah?” he prompts you.

“Are you still…always ready?” you finish your question and you can see the moment he puts it all together and realizes what you are really asking.

“Yeah..” he breathes out and you don’t waste a second and come to his bed, throw away his blanket, swing one leg over him and sit down. You can feel his hard cock under you and his hands immediately come up to rest on your hips. You’re looking at each other, both aroused but neither is sure what to do next.

“S-sit on my face?” he suggests and you smile at him, because this is truly a fantastic idea.

You raise yourself just enough to take off your panties and then you turn and maneuver so that your pussy is hovering over his handsome face. Your dress is so short you don't even have to take it off. He grabs you by your hips and pulls down, so that you’re sitting with almost full weight on his face. But he doesn’t seem to mind, rather the opposite - he moans and gets to work. He eats you out like it’s the best meal he’s ever had, and his tongue seems heavenly and oddly huge, licking over your clit in broad strokes then moving to your dripping hole and pushing inside. His tongue is so big he can kinda fuck you with it and it feels so good you’re not sure how long you will last. You don’t want it to be over so soon, especially since you can see his hard cock tenting his pyjama pants and the size of it is also intriguing.

“Younghoon, I’m getting close,” you moan and he just responds by flicking over your clit harder, but you’re already stopping him and easing off his face. He whines and tries to pull you back on his face, as if he hadn’t had enough of eating your pussy yet, but you laugh and drop off on the bed next to him. You look at him and he’s so aroused he looks almost feral, with his eyes glossy and the whole bottom part of his face glistening with your pussy juices.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask and he nods and reaches back to open his nightstand drawer to take out a silver packet. You look at each other. “Always ready,” you say in unison, and start laughing, you lean forwards to take off his shirt and he fumbles with the straps on your dress until you together manage to take it off. He kicks off his sweatpants and now you’re both naked. You look at his cock and you’re pleased to see how pretty and long and thick it is and he’s already so wet, so you open the packet and roll the condom on him.

“How do you want to…” he starts but you’re already pushing his chest down so he’s lying flat on his back.

“Let me ride you,” you say and you’re already climbing over him. You’re not wasting any time, you take hold of his cock and put it inside you, sitting on his lap fully. You take a few seconds to get used to it, even though you’re so wet and relaxed it’s not an issue anymore, and then you start moving.

It gets frantic all too quickly, you’re both too horny and close to try for any kind of finesse, you’re riding him like it’s the last thing you do in your life and he’s just holding you, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing your ass and tits, until he plants his feet over your bed and start thrusting against you. It’s so wild and both of you are moaning and getting out of breath, accompanied just by the slapping and squelching sound.

“Y/N, I’m coming,” he moans and you just nod quickly, because you’re coming too and you can’t even speak anymore. You lean forward to hug him tightly while you’re shaking and spasming and you can see his cock throb and pump inside you. Your ears are ringing and it almost feels like the whole room is spinning with how strong your orgasm was.

You finally start coming to your senses so you just slump against him. You're both sweaty and sticky but it also feels kinda nice. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it over both of you so that you won't get cold and it somewhat warms your heart a little. You were already almost starting to get worried about things becoming awkward between you, but when you look up on his face, he’s smiling kindly at you and you know everything will be okay. Maybe even…

“You know Y/N,” he chuckles. “I must say, I like living with you a lot more than I expected I would, but now that I have had you in my bed…It kinda feels like you belong here,” he says and snuggles you tighter to his chest.

Yeah, you think. Maybe, indeed.

323 notes · View notes

courtingchaos · 2 years

Text

Blackberry + Smash

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: Oh my god, it's your little day date! I wonder if he'll like your choice of nails?

Word Count:6.3k

A/N: Part 2 to Blackberry, still for @newlips milestone of love! I broke these up because I was having a hard time reading it all together and this part got, well, too long honestly. However it's fun and dirty just how we all like it. (18+ NSFW you know the drill)

The mirror in his bathroom isn’t lying to him, he sure is 32 and still has no idea how to dress himself. He’s gone through at least 6 versions of the same black outfit, only now realizing he owns nothing for a date. He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs.

Casual. It’s lunch, this ain’t rocket science and you’ve seen him covered in a multitude of stains and you still kissed him 9 days ago.

Yes he’s counting, has counted every day. Every boba tea he’s left since, every carton of cookies has a little heart drawn on it with an ‘E’ in the middle.

He wasn’t even this lovesick as a kid.

Eddie gives himself a disgusted scoff before ripping off his faded Megadeath tee. He lets himself have a little tantrum, stomping his feet around and whining. Rolling his head back and forth. Couldn’t you two just slide under his sheets and roll around for the rest of eternity? Then he wouldn’t have to worry about fuckin’ clothes! There’s a yell building in his chest but Jeff is sleeping and he won’t wake him, not with a full Friday night ahead of him. Instead he stalks off to his room to root around some more, looking for something less faded when his phone pings. A message from you: ‘holy shit, am I actually ready on time? 🖤’, and a picture that he immediately taps on.

It’s a mirror picture of your outfit. Black sweater, black pants, black shoes.

Oh what a fucking pair you’ll make. Dour food service workers in their mourning best.

He’s never been happier.

This also sets his nerves at ease. He can look normal. On top of his pile of clean laundry he finds his Hideout shirt and his good Metallica hoodie. Has one last moment of asking himself if he’s still actually 16 before going back to the bathroom.

Rings on, his pick and his Cuban link chain lay against his collar bones. Finds the matching bracelet and decides to wear the silver nose hoop and in the final glance he rolls his eyes.

It’ll do.

He shoves the shirt and hoodie on, glances at the clock and sees 9:30 glowing up at him. He finds his jacket, grabs his keys and wallet and has enough time to pick up coffee for the two of you.

You got nervous and decided to wait outside for him, the sun helping to edge off the chill of the morning. You’re scrolling through Instagram when the familiar sound of his truck pulls through the gate of your complex. Immediately it feels like your stomach is up in your ribs. You’d spent four fucking hours this morning getting ready, redoing your makeup three times before just settling on big wings and red lips. Classic, easy, and you were running low on makeup wipes really. You’d switched out jewelry enough you’d irritated the piercings, yet again settling on leaving in your medusa and just going with silver everything. In an attempt to calm yourself you’d sent the picture to Eddie, not really expecting him to reply. He did heart react to it though and that had sent you horizontal on the couch for a few minutes, kicking your socked feet around.

He pulls up in front of you and before you can get a hand on the door he’s leaned over to push it open. You’re staring very obviously for a moment, eyes fixed on the ripped knees of his jeans where you can see a smattering of tattoos. You hadn’t given much thought to that. You knew about his arms obviously, had seen pictures of his chest and back pieces but no one had mentioned his legs. Eddie clears his throat and you immediately flush. He gives you a look and you prop a foot in to help push you up. Then you notice the two Dunkin coffees.

“Did you get me iced coffee?” Surprise pitches your voice high, a little ‘oh!’ following when he holds up a small paper bag.

“And a donut.”

“Eddie!” You reach over to grab the bag and also slap at his elbow. He just chuckles and watches you tear it in two, holding one side out to him. He can see the pink still tinging your cheeks.

“I already had two.”

“Oh I see how it is.” A raise of your eyebrows and he tells you to put your seatbelt on. Asks for the address of your nail salon.

“It’s gonna take a little while, I’m getting acrylics so. I don’t know if you want to hang around or not.” You say around a mouthful of donut.

“Am I gonna be in the way?”

“I don’t think so, just depends on how busy they are.”

It’s busy as shit. Thankfully you have your appointment, so it’s just a waiting game for a station to open up.

“There’s like, so many people in here.” He looks like a big worried puppy. “Do you mind if I wander over to the bookstore on the other side?” Eddie flicks his head at the front door. Across the parking lot is a Barnes and Nobel that you saw him eye when you parked.

“Not at all.” A hand on his forearm with a gentle squeeze and he smiles down at you. What had Cate said?

“You’re a simple for dimples.” Christ.

“Text me when you’re almost done, okay?”

You nod, shooing him off towards the door. He’s slow going, waiting for you to turn around the corner to go look at polish colors. When he sees you disappear he rushes the front desk, the receptionist startling at his figure popping up.

“Hey, your 11 o’clock with-“ he gestures over to you, mouthing your name to try to keep it quiet. “How much is her bill?”

“Well, she’s set up for a regular acrylic set and-“

He’s keeping an eye on you but wants to get out of here before you turn around again to find a seat.

“Look, whatever the like, top tier thing is, I don’t know nails. Can I just pay ahead of time for that for her?”

“For the nails and the pedicure?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever it is. I’ve got the tip too.”

She hands him a small receipt and he only balks at the price because why is this shit so expensive? He made it a point to not have a band of cash on him today, trying to be a modicum of classy, so he pulls out three hundreds from his wallet and tells the receptionist to figure out the tip. Smiles and tells her to have a nice day. He darts out before you get a chance to sit.

“Eddie.” The sound of your voice makes him pick his head up from his phone. You’re standing in front of the door to the salon, arms crossed and a pinched expression on your face.

“Yeah?” He’s playing stupid. Only for you.

“You really didn’t need to do that.”

A small smile pulls at his lips and he halfheartedly shrugs.

“I’m serious! That was expensive.” Your laugh is exasperated but your not really mad. Just taken aback. First dates don’t pay for nails.

“I know, that’s why I did it. You’ve been talking about these fuckin’ things for a week now. Figured I’d surprise you.” He puts his phone away to stare up at you from his seat on the bench.

“Let’s see ‘em.” Eddie leans forward and holds out his hand expectantly. You twist away and playfully squint down at him, holding your hands clenched under your chin.

“I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“Oh come on, let’s see what my hard earned American dollars got you.” Laughing and reaching again but this time his hand drifts south, fingertips grazing the back of your thigh, gently pulling you back towards him.

The little hitch in your breathing goes unnoticed but the blush flooding your cheeks doesn’t. His smile widens and he pulls you again, knocking your knee gently into the bench between his own.

“Please?” Holds his other hand out, big palm facing up and you lower your own down to wiggle your fingers at him. Eddie let’s out a low whistle while he turns your hand around to look at the little gold stars dotting the matte black claws; turns it over to see the glittery red underneath.

“Oh I’d say that’s worth it.”

“You like?”

“Mhm. You get you’re toes done too?”

That makes you blush harder for some reason but you nod. He’s still holding your hand gently, like he’d lean in for a kiss to the back of it.

“Yeah, same red color.” His other hand is resting fully against your leg now, thumb moving slowly back and forth over your knee. He glances down at your feet briefly, toes hidden in your shiny black loafers.

“I bet that’s real pretty.” When he looks back up at your face, dark eyes framed by dark lashes and that damn smile pulling those dimples out, you look away quick. If anymore blood rushes to your face you’re bound to pass out.

“Did uh, did you wanna like, grab lunch or something?” He’s got you stuttering while you look around the parking lot for a distraction. Anything to get your mind off of his hand still gripping the side of your thigh.

Jesus suffering fuck.

“Sure. There’s a ramen place up the road that’s pretty good.”

It’s a small restaurant, ten tables and a bar. It’s just the two of you for a while in the booth that Eddie asked for. He’s been tapping his foot against yours since you sat.

“Are you playing footsie with me?”

“Maybe.” His grin is infectious. You jostle him back and it devolves for a few minutes until the waitress shows back up with your drinks and a knowing look on her face.

Eddie notes how easy you blush. It’s been at least four times today and he’s only been around you for maybe three hours. He’s trying to recall any other time he might have seen it, but he doesn’t think you’d let that kind of thing slide at work. It’d be seen as a weakness or some shit you and Cate make up.

He briefly wonders how far down your neck it goes.

“So do you actually like cooking?” You ask as your food arrives, unwrapping your chopsticks and dumping and ungodly amount of togarashi into your ramen.

“Yeah actually. My uncle taught me how to cook, he made it fun. It just kind of stuck around I guess.” He looks bashful, swirling his chopsticks around the bowl. You realize this is a whole side of Eddie you don’t know about.

“What’s your favorite thing to cook?”

“Honestly? I really like smoking ribs. Wayne had this contraption he built himself out back of his trailer, and he’d make some real creations out there.” He sounds wistful when he talks about his uncle. He’s brought him up a few times but never really explained why he spent so much time with him. You don’t want to pry, but your interested in this home brew smoker now.

“Please tell me it was like some 50 gallon drum deal.”

“Oh of course! He used to be a welder in the Army so he had all kinds of shit he made. Still has that grill too.”

Eddie rambles for most of lunch, constantly trying to deflect back to you but you’re invested in this uncle of his. Wayne sounds like quite the guy.

“So you lived with him till what, you were 23?”

“Yeah. I just wanted my own space and he also needed his own space. I have dinner with him once a week though. At least.” Eddie’s been rubbing his hand on the back of his neck for a few minutes and you’re starting to get the signal to stop mining for now.

“I’d love to meet him.”

“Oh he’d love you.” That rolls off his tongue fast and you both laugh. “Maybe I’ll drag you to dinner next week. You can tell him all about your drive thru crazies.”

“Oh I’m sure we’d both love that.”

The check has been sitting on the table for 20 or so minutes and when he tucks his card in, after swatting your hand away, the waitress descends and disappears with the check. He’s nervous again, twirling his rings around his fingers, leg bouncing. You’ve taken a minute to check your messages but under the table you slide a hand onto his bouncing knee. It stills immediately, the flash of a smile you shoot at him quelling any knots under his ribs. It’s such a small gesture, your hand warm on his knee. He’s already decided he’s kissing you again outside.

“This was fun, thank you again for my nails. Seriously.”

He reaches out for your hand, tucks his fingers up under your knuckles to stare at the gold stars. He doesn’t let go, instead pulling you along behind him towards his truck.

“Unless you’ve got other plans, we can find something else to do. I’ve got all day.”

“Okay.” You say it so quick, looking for any excuse to stay around him. It’s only taken you this long for a single date, you might as well make it last. “Wanna see a movie?”

When he stops at his truck he doesn’t unlock it, just leans back against the door and pulls your hand in against his chest.

“Anything good playing?” He asks quietly, laying his hand over yours to lay flat against him. You fit right between his feet, boots bracketing your loafers.

“I don’t uh…” Your stuttering, caught watching his eyes flit between yours. “I’m not sure.” You finish lamely.

“Well, I’ve got all means of streaming at my place. If you want.”

A year ago with anyone else this would have made you scoff and push back, spell being firmly broken by even the implication of some form of Netflix and chill.

Eddie though? Eddie makes it sound like the sweetest thing in the world. And who are you, presuming he’s even gonna try and put a move on you?

(You’ll be absolutely devastated if he doesn’t.)

The warmth of him is enveloping you, the spice of his cologne and the last cigarette he had drawing you further in just before his hands do the same. Big palms cradle the sides of your neck, thumbs resting on your cheeks and he leans in.

His lips are plush and warm and you tuck up close to him, arms squished between the two of you. His fingers inch up into your hair, holding your head, keeping your lips to his and honestly? Honestly.

How dare he be so good at this and keep it from you for so long. You thought he liked you and he’s been depriving you of his lips parting and running his tongue over your own and-

“Ed.” You break the kiss, breathless and face hot but you’ve only got eyes for him. His pupils blown wide in the bright daylight, you can see a frown starting between his brows. “No, hey I’m not-this is great. Can we get in the truck?” It’s almost one long word of a sentence but he understands. You’re around to the passenger side before he’s even closing his door, your hand over the center console to grab his bicep and pull him over to you.

In the confines of the cab, kneeling on the seat so you can grab his hoodie and it’s your turn to pull him in. The little sound he lets out almost sounds like a whimper and it just makes you all the more confident. It’s your tongue running along the seam of his lips, the curve of a smile before he opens and lets you in. He taste like the mango mochi you two shared and your hands run up into his hair to keep him close.

This is all you’ve been thinking about since he kissed you last week, waiting for another moment to lay your lips on him. It’s a few minutes of heavy kissing and his hands just under the edge of your sweater; you still haven’t let his hair go yet. Eddie is the first to pull away though, eyes squeezed shut when he rests his forehead against yours.

“We can go back to mine, uh if you want? We don’t have to I know I said that earlier but we can go out and see a movie-“ You press two fingers against his lips to silence him.

“I want to.”

The ride to his apartment is quiet. He drops his hand on its new home in the middle of your thigh, fingers digging in a little bit every time he turns a corner.

That blackberry has been picked and washed and fully eaten in earnest.

His apartment isn’t what you expected honestly. It’s two men living together, so the neatness throws you off. Everything has a home it seems, unlike your own place that’s like a cozy disaster zone.

“I like your place.” You say over your shoulder standing in the open living room. He’d busied himself with putting your jackets away and dropping his stuff into a tray on the counter. Now he’s just standing in the kitchen watching you inspect the bookcase by the TV.

“Do you like bourbon?”

You glance at your phone to see 4:30pm.

“A little early for dark liquor.”

Eddie shrugs and pulls out two rocks glasses and a round bottle, little jockey stopper on top.

“We hit some kind of goal or something and Stacy and her husband bought everyone in the kitchen really nice bourbon.” He pulls the seal. “Thought I’d hang on to it for a special occasion.”

“Is this a special occasion then?”

“Yes.” His smile is warm. Looks at the little topper for a moment before sniffing the bottle.

“That kind of smells like Christmas.”

He pours less than a finger in each glass and slides one over to you. He’s not wrong, and after he fishes out an ice cube for you, it goes down smooth.

Hip cocked into the counter top and nursing your tiny glass of stupid expensive bourbon, you listen to Eddie go in on all the deserts he could use this in. You had no idea he could bake too and you feel a little cheated after all those bakery bought cookies he’s brought you.

“Oh you know what else,” he ducks into his fridge and pulls out a mason jar of dark syrup, “this might be blasphemy but I don’t care. Let me see your glass.” You hold it out and he uses a spoon to drizzle some of it in the dregs of your drink. “Thats a blackberry and rosemary syrup I made and- what?” Your laugh cuts through his words and the way his face lights up makes laugh more. A clearer sign from the universe, you’ve never had.

“I just really like blackberries.”

He does put something on tv eventually but neither of you pay attention. It murmurs in the background while you two talk and when the sun starts to stretch across the wall of his living room you climb over the cushion separating you and try valiantly to invade his chest. He’s cozy and warm and he tastes like that syrup he made. He says something about whiskey tasting good on you too and any inkling you may have had about leaving his place tonight goes firmly out the window.

The couch is comfortable and him nosing at your neck, dropping lazy kisses up and down the length of it makes you melt. His hands are heavy in your hair and where they slide down to meet his lips along your neck. You’d finally gotten a hand under his shirt, skin hot and soft. You can feel the muscles flex under your touch and you find out on accident he’s ticklish when you’re skating your new nails back and forth over his happy trail and the weirdest giggle escapes him.

“Sorry.” He smiles shyly.

You want to hear that sound again but he has other plans. Untangles your legs and stands up, holds out his hand to you again.

Just over the threshold of his room he looks at you, fully sincere.

“Is this okay?”

Yes yes yes yes yes yes

You nod and gently kick the door closed behind yourself.

With that barrier to the outside closed Eddie descends on you. Backs you right up against the door and kisses the breath right out of your lungs. You hang onto his shoulders while he pulls your sweater off. It hits the floor and his hands are right back on you sliding up your sides to cup your tits through your lace bra. You’d worn the set in the hopes that this exact thing would happen.

“How’d you know blue’s my favorite color?” He whispers against your mouth before diving right down to the swell of your breast and nips lightly. You suck in a gasp and he does it again to the other one, runs his thumbs over your nipples. Your trying your hardest to get your fingers to cooperate and pull at the hem of his shirt.

“Worry about me later.”

“Eddie, please.”

“Wanna see you first, gorgeous.”

When his hands fall to your jeans you let out a whine that makes him look up at you.

“You okay?”

“Yes just. Please don’t stop.”

He hurries then, pushes your jeans down and turns you both to walk to bed. When the edge hits your legs you lift one to crawl backwards, a finger hooked in his belt loop in an attempt to pull him with you. He rips his shirt off instead and it’s truly it’s insane how he just keeps getting hotter. The dark lines of his tattoos against his pale skin makes you pant.

“Oh what the fuck.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.” He sounds breathless. Eyes roaming to take in the matching underwear that clings to your body. The tattoo on your sternum that he had no idea about and the other two just under your collar. There’s dark lines wrapping around your hip that he’s going to dig his teeth into soon. He reaches and lightly runs a finger over your sternum before trailing it down your stomach and stopping at the elastic of your underwear.

“You wear this for me?”

You nod.

“Oh good.”

You don’t think you’ve heard him this quiet ever. He’s all whispers and heavy stares, that finger tip that’s inching into your underwear making your heart rocket into your throat. You wrap your hand around his and pull him so he has to kneel on the bed too, inch his finger down further.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?” It rumbles in his chest. You snake both arms up to wrap around his neck and bring him in to ghost your lips over his.

“Touch me. Please.”

Of course he has silk pillowcases, you think to yourself when the side of your face is pressed into them. The cool material is slick against your hot cheek, Eddie’s big hand laying between your shoulder blades. He isn’t pushing you down into the mattress but the suggestion is there.

Stay.

You’ve ended up in the middle of his bed bent in half with him kneeling behind you, gentle hand pulling your knees apart. You’re blushing for a thousand and one reasons, mainly because you’ve never played this little game before. At first you’d tried to hide your face and he’d tutted at you, gently prying your forearm away. Now you’re just trying not to grip the pillow too hard, only partially conscious of your new nails.

“Eddie.” Your muffled whine gets his attention and he leans forward, puts a little pressure on your back. Your eyes roll.

“You okay?” His voice is dark next you, quiet and gravely and you clench around nothing, he hasn’t even touched your pussy yet. A garbled ‘uh huh’ gets past your lips and you can hear him grin, the bastard.

He slides your underwear over your ass and down, tossing them into some corner of the room, swings his knee over your calf and knocks your leg out to side some more. Your hips drop and he sighs, his right hand coming to slide up the back of your thigh, gripping at the soft skin and over the swell of your ass.

“I’ve been waiting months for this.” A low laugh, how can he laugh at a time like this. You try to sit up a bit, to give him an incredulous look but he holds you down. You don’t mean to let out the moan you’ve been holding in, but he knocks it out of you. Laughs. Again.

“You didn’t have to wait months.” Muffled again by the pillow.

“We were having fun. You’re a good chase.” He gives your ass a light tap and then grabs the flesh hard. You arch your back into his touch and he immediately lets go to graze his fingertips over your slit, dipping in between your folds.

“Jesus your so wet,” he huffs through his nose, “this for me too?”

Of course it is. You’ve been wet for him since he picked you up in his stupid truck, looking too good in his stupid jeans and big hoodie. Since he grabbed your thigh and asked about your god damn toes.Since the couch and his weird giggle.

You’d like to be a smart ass and list off all the ways he’s driven you crazy just that day, but instead you just whimper.

“Hmm?” He dips a finger down to circle your clit agonizingly slow. It sends a burning jolt through you and you cant your hips back to chase his touch.

“Yes, oh my god!” It comes from deep in your chest, voice low and full of want. Every time he’s come in to visit you, hanging over the partition to joke and flirt at you. His little touches at the bar, a hand always lingering on your lower back or fingertips dragging over a knee. That drunk kiss in the parking lot of the bar a week ago.

All you’ve done is want for months now. You’re about to bully your way into sitting up when he leans down and places a wet kiss on your shoulder. Drags the hand there down to your lower back, still splayed wide and warm. It makes you pause and he uses that minor distraction to easily slide two fingers deep in your cunt.

It punches the air out of any argument you were trying to start, hands searching for something to grip. One finds his thigh and he still has his god damn jeans on?

The slow drag of his fingertips inside you makes your mouth hang open. They’re big and you’ve been worked up since you woke up this morning so it just feels too good.

Actually that’s a lie, you’ve been worked up since that first day he walked into the cafe with Jeff, all jokes and pretty eyes and no idea if he even liked coffee. Some dumb espresso joke later and you’d been stupid for him.

Kind of like now, with one of his hands holding your back in an arch while his other moves at a torturous pace in and out, the wet sound of you sinful in the space of his room.

“Do you know many times I thought about inviting you back here after the bar?” You roll your head back and forth, hiding your face under your hair.

“Every time I gave you a ride I thought about it.” He enunciates his line with a particularly deep prod of his fingers, bringing his thumb to circle your clit again. “Coulda just bent you over my lap and shoved my fingers in, huh?” You clench down, files that little thought away for later. He gets his free arm up under your chest so he can hold you to him. Lays his weight against your back when he picks up the pace of his fingers and the strangled cry coming from you makes him even harder in his jeans. He peppers kisses along your shoulders, noses your hair out of the way so he can nip at the back of your neck. When he licks a stripe up to your ear he feels your strings cut, the chanting of his name sounding like music.

“I gotcha baby. You gonna come for me?”

You’re nodding, whining his name, breath hitching in your chest. Between his thumb tracing hard and his fingers dragging against that sweet spot inside your eyes water and you grab at the back of his head, nails digging into his curls. The feeling building low is white hot where it creeps down and makes your legs shake. Pinned down under him you try to chase his hand with your hips, looking for that edge of relief and it’s just out of reach until it’s not.

His chin is hooked over your shoulder so he can mouth at the side of your face while you go rigid under him. He’s still moving his fingers while you spasm around him and jesus christ he can’t wait to fuck you, plain and simple.

“Breath baby, come on.” He whispers into your ear when he realizes you’ve been holding your breath. You let out a low groan that turns stuttering when he doesn’t relent with his thumb on your clit.

“Eddie I can’t- too much!”

He ‘aww’s’ at you playfully but slows down his hand, only pulling out when you’ve regained some kind of normal breathing. Cuddled up behind you, face still close to yours where your breath fans over his cheek he leaves a wet kiss on yours and the toothy smile he sees in the waning light makes him feel warm.

“Knew you’d be worth the wait.”

You slap his arm as he rolls off the bed to stand. The clink of his belt buckle makes you turn your head against the pillow to stare at him. His eyes don’t leave yours while he undoes the button and fly to push them down off his hips. He leaves his boxers on and before he can climb back on the bed you sit up in front of him, hug his thighs with your knees. From here you can look up at him and map the tattoos across his chest and over his shoulders down to his fingers. It’s past sunset now and the purple fading light does nothing but make his pale skin glow under all that dark ink. You pull his own move on him from earlier, tracing the tip of your nail up the back of his thigh. He shivers, leg jumping and when you firmly run both of your palms under the edge of his boxers he smiles down at you.

“Tryin’ t’get fresh?”

“Maybe.” Sucking in your bottom lip to bite at it, you bring one hand around and run it down the flat plane of his stomach to the band of his underwear.

“Can I?” A whisper and his eyes go half lidded, pupils dark and wide under his lashes. An almost too quiet ‘yeah’ and you tug the fabric down to free him.

You must be making a face because he chuckles and runs a finger down your jaw. When you look back up at his face you grip the base of his dick and he hisses low, run your hand up the length of him to watch his head loll back. He’s big, thick and flushed red, the fat head of his cock hot against your palm. Damn near salivating you run the flat of your tongue up the underside of him, to the tip before fully wrapping your lips around him and hollowing your cheeks. Eddie is making a lot of noises you’ve never heard before, one’s that you want him to keep making but only after a few bobs of your head and hand he’s gently pulling your head back where’s he’s laced his fingers in your hair.

“If you don’t want this to be over in five seconds, I’d suggest we stop that.”

“You get too excited?” Frowning at him you make a move to grab him again he crowds you instead, makes you crawl back towards the middle of the bed. He shuffles across to settle between your propped up knees and tosses a wrapper on your stomach.

“How romantic Munson.”

“You wanna touch my cock so bad, you put it on.” His forwardness shuts you up. You tear the wrapper open in a rush, grab him again and give his dick a few tugs before rolling the condom down. His thumbs rub little soothing circles on your knees until you pull your hand away and he’s hauling your legs up to wrap around his waist. Pulls you to him with hands in the crook of your knees and he’s cradled in your hips, rocking his own forward to rub the tip of his cock along your folds. Catches it on your sensitive clit and you yelp. His frown is mocking yours from a moment ago, tilts his hips and does it again.

“Aw, honey is that too much?”

“Eddie I swear to god I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” He pulls back enough to line up, gives you one last chance to say something before he eases in. Slow drag until he’s fully seated against you and you both moan in unison. “That’s what I thought.” Your warm around him everywhere; thighs hugging his hips, hands running up his chest.

“Jesus Christ you feel amazing.”

The fluttering of your walls around his cock is doing nothing for his stamina, coming to terms with himself that this might not last long.

That’s fine, you weren’t leaving tonight.

The look on your face, eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open, makes him roll his hips to watch you squirm. He starts a slow rhythm, grabbing the cups of your bra and pulling down to let your tits free. When he pinches one between his knuckles you keen and arch your back. He does it again to hear that high sound and he picks up his pace, drilling deeper and making you chant his name again.

“I can’t believe I waited this long for you baby, you feel so fucking good for me.” He pulls your legs from around him to push them up towards your chest, canting your hips with them to get at you deeper.

“Eddie Eddie Eddie.” It’s high pitched and whiney and music to his ears. He can feel you pulsing around him like you were earlier. Props one of your legs on his shoulder to get his hand between the two of you to rub fast circles over your swollen clit.

“You gonna come again?”

“Yes fuck, please don’t stop Eddie!”

His hips snap against your ass and with every push your letting out a stuttering moan. Watching your lips form around his name, panting and pawing at your own chest, your hand around the back of his neck and long nails scratching against the sensitive skin brings everything to a pinpoint. His hips begin to stutter when you clench around him, your no slick coating your thighs and his fingers and his cock and it’s all it takes for him to bury himself deep.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He’s muttering, slowing his movement and rocking the two of you through the aftershocks, running a soothing hand up your leg still on his shoulder.

“Come here.” Hands splayed to beckon him, cheeks pink and flushed, hair stuck to your sweaty forehead he thinks he might be falling in love after all these months. He’ll keep that to himself for now. Instead he pulls out and discards the condom over the side of the bed. Drops his weight on you, a huff from you and a smile pushed against your chest from him. The light touches from the tips of your nails make goosebumps pop up along his back where you gently rake your nails.

It’s a while before either of you move and it’s only to get under the covers when the cooling sweat makes you cold. Eddie holds the corner up to help you get situated but holds out a hand when you try to tuck your feet in.

“Hold on, hold on.” He snatches one of your feet to bring up closer to his face, making you bend weird and squeal. It tickles but he won’t let go, looking at your toes the way he did your nails earlier.

“Eddie, seriously!”

“I knew they were pretty.” He places a light kiss on the outside arch of your foot and you wrinkle your nose. It tickles and it’s cute and his hand is warm on your cold foot. He only lets go to run a hand up the back of your calf to pull you under the covers where he drapes himself over you, hair curtaining and smothering you in him.

In the middle of the night, after Jeff comes home and deftly ignores the scene left in the living room and you’ve gotten up to use the bathroom and rinse your mouth out you cuddle back up to Eddie’s side and wait for him to turn his head and look at you.

“Hey, you wanna call in sick Sunday?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you can be my plus one for the wedding.”

“Cutting it a little close, no?”

“It’s my aunt, she won’t care.”

“I don’t have a suit.”

“Then we can get you one tomorrow.”

“It’s a date.”

#newlipsmilestoneoflove #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fic #My work #My Fic

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teeheemarie · 1 year

Text

Pleasure 🩸👅

Y/n & you, female reader

Short read

Warning: blood, sex, chocking, fantasy

Choso (JJK character)

———————————————————————

You look up from your book. He is staring at you intensely.

“What Choso?” you ask him. He looks at you, no change in expression, “I want to…” he trails off.

“Want to what?” you ask, slightly annoyed due to the cramps. “Eat you out” his voice is calm and enticing.

“I..uh…huh?” you are blushing…doesn’t he know…

His eyes elevator you, he leans in and takes the book nicely from your hands and lays it on the coffee table. He grabs your feet and pulls your entire body towards him until you are sitting in his lap. His hand comes up pushing your hair behind your ear and he whispers, “I’m going to eat you out. I want to taste your cum and blood.”

You feel the heat in your cheeks rise. There was no arguing this one. Time and time again you keep telling him that “maybe, one day.” Honestly, what reason is there not to let this man eat you out? His entire jujutsu is blood related, the last thing he is concerned about is blood.

You look at him, he is staring, waiting for you. His eyes are light but the dark circles give off the illusion that he hasn’t slept in his entire life. 150 years old, had to sleep at some point. Maybe blood would rejuvenate him. His left hand is around your waist and his right hand is tracing your jawline. All you can do is nod.

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

“CHOSO….I”, you let out a loud moan. You look down to see his eyes rolled back, his tongue playing with your clit and his fingers inside you whirling around. You tighten your thighs around his neck, he removes his fingers……there’s one….slurping up all your wetness and blood. He takes a minute to look at your face…..his face is glistening with your juices, eyes ready to devour again. You bite your lip.

He nods. He starts again but this time he puts his thumb on your clit, massaging it in a circular motion. Slow movement that causes your clit to heat up.

His tongue slowly licking around your pussy. Your moans are his sign of pleasure. With those pleasures sounds, he buries his tongue inside you. Instead of his thumb you now feel his nose against your clit…you can feel the warm of his breathing, tickling, and sending chills of sensation throughout your body. His tongue feels deep inside you. Stroking, moving up and down, twirling. The wetness of his tongue is hot making you quiver.

Your back arches as another wave flows out of you. You hear him drinking in your juices. Not one drop is missed. You feel him start to suck on your clit. He moans. His sucking becomes harder. “CHOSO” a tear starts to form…you are about to go into full ecstasy. His tongue is back inside you, nose against your clit. He slowly moves his head up and down so that his nose is rubbing your clit while his tongue is exploring the inside walls of your pussy.

You look at him, his hands are at your sides, your thighs around his neck. Sounds of him moaning and the wetness mixed together. You look back at his hands…is he……before you are able to understand what he is doing you feel his tongue length to hit your G spot, one hand is *gently* around your neck, squeezing.

His tongue licking vigorously on your G Spot. Your eyes roll back, tears falling, legs shaking, your head is dizzy…….you fade into the Choso Ecstasy.

-----------TWO DAYS LATER-------------

You wake up. You are cleaned, new clothes on and in bed. Choso comes in, “Good Morning” he smiles and puts a tray of food in front of you. He made all your favorites: rice, spam, eggs, chocolate chip pancakes, fruit bowl, iced coffee and water. You look up at him, “Thank you…I…what happened?”

He looks guilty. One of his hands goes behind his head and he smiles, “Um I may have gone a little too far on pleasuring you.” You look at him. “You’ve been out for 2 days. Don’t worry I told the other sorcerers you were sick. But honestly, I used one of my techniques on you so I could fully pleasure both of us.” Your eyes widen. “Umm, but how are your cramps?” he asks while smiling to himself and walking away.

Once he was gone, you assessed yourself. You go to the bathroom: no bloat, no pimples, no pain. You feel your boobs, no sensitive sensation. You pull your shorts and underwear down; you notice that there are no feminine products on your panties or inside you. You feel yourself…no blood.

You look in the mirror…did he…no……no…yes. You remember that his techniques are strictly blood related. You remember seeing him this morning, his eyes a little livelier and his dark circles are not as dominate but still there.

No..No…Did he really eat you out so good that he took all the blood from your period with him…is that even possible.

----Gojo once said: “Anything in sorcerer world is possible, y/n. Even things that seem crazy or too good to be true. That’s what separates us from humans.”-----

You pull yourself together and wash your hands. When you exit the bathroom, Choso is in bed with his own tray, waiting for you. You can see he is a little shy or maybe nervous.

“Soo….” you start off, “you just take all of it” motioning to your vagina. Choso shakes his head “Yes, if I use the technique.” “Are there long-term consequences?” you ask. “Aside from your body passing out for a few days, no. You will still start your period, but I can make it end sooner….” He says.

“Does it help you?” you know it does, you can see it but if you are about to be pleased and not have a long period every month, you want to ensure he gets something too.

“More blood is good for me and my techniques, so yes. And it’s also pleasurable seeing you squirm, and cum repeatedly.” His face changes to almost teasing but also excited.

You blush. A part of you is turned on but you haven’t eaten so the food and hunger are taking over.

You sit next to him and start eating the spam. “So, you aren’t mad at me?”, he asks. “You used a technique to not only further my pleasure but to also take away my period early……that doesn’t warrant a mad “y/n”, does it?” He shakes his head no. “As long as your promise that you will do it monthly” you smirk at him.

“Gladly” he smiles.

#jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #choso #jujutsu x reader #choso x reader #jjk #anime #smut #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso thirsts #choso fanart #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso

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esmedelacroix · 10 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.5

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffy, not proofread

author's note: Hi lovies, exams are done! I'm starting vacation soon so I'll be writing a lot more. Hope you like this chapter I had fun writing it. Let me know what you think, and comment to be added to the taglist for this series, enjoy...

word count: 1.4k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

Your eyes fluttered open as bright morning lights glared through your curtains. There was something strange about this morning, but it was a good kind of strange. You felt a strange warmth, it wasn’t your blanket or heater, it was—Miguel?! Memories of last night resurfaced in your brain and you felt your cheek and ears flush, and Oh my god, Miguel is cuddling me right now, you thought to yourself as you looked down and saw his huge arms wrapped around you. He was holding your hands delicately, sharing his warmth with you. You could feel his soft breaths fanning your forehead, slow and tranquil, in and out. You fit perfectly against him, like the last puzzle piece of a Ravensburger jigsaw puzzle.

Despite your tangled legs, having Miguel this close was perfect. He began to stir in his sleep and soon woke up himself. He immediately pulled away from you frantically. “Sorry, I just, you were cold and I-“ he started. The familiar chill encapsulated your body the second Miguel let you go leaving you a bit disappointed. “It’s fine, I don’t mind at all," you reassured, placing a hand on his forearm.

"It was nice," you muttered looking away hoping he didn't hear you. Your sudden soft shyness sent butterflies to his chest. Your bedhead made your change in demeanor even cuter. Not to mention those reindeer onesies you were wearing. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" you questioned feeling his laser glaze burning through your figure.

"No, it's nothing," he said as he dragged himself out of your bed.

You followed, and put some coffee on in the kitchen. Miguel freshened up and sat on the couch with his laptop in hand and glasses on his nose. Although the storm was still happening his job kept him busy. You heard him typing away and finished making him a hot black coffee. Making him coffee as he worked reminded you of being in the shop late at night.

Miguel honed in on his work, you, taking your time cleaning up the shop before closing so that Miguel could have more time to work. The little peeks you took at him while he worked. As you watched him you learned many things about him. You noticed that he chews on his pens when he seems stuck or stressed. He runs his hand through his hair when he is tired, and he enjoys the Frank Sinatra songs that you play. He thought you didn't hear him singing Girl From Ipanema in the shower. His voice was amazing; it was deep, rich, and flowed like honey.

Miguel could smell the coffee you were brewing for him from the couch. The scent was strong, he could tell you were using different beans than you use in the shop. Miguel couldn't deny that he felt the same deja vu. He felt like he was back in your shop doing his "work". Half of the time he was sitting there on his laptop, he was typing gibberish into the Google search bar. When he wasn't doing work, he was looking at you. Watching, memorizing, because every movement you made beguiled him.

He took notice of the subtle sway of your hips to the music, the gentle tilt of your head matching the slow melodies. Your movements seemed to encapsulate a suppressed passion and excitement. Unbeknownst to you, Miguel watched as you slipped into the kitchen, believing you were unobserved, dancing exuberantly to the music just because you could.

Miguel never overlooked those instances when you sang along or hummed certain parts of the songs; each detail etched into his awareness.

So as you stood before him waiting for some kind of reaction to the coffee that you had made, he was fully aware of your anxiousness. He took a slow sip, swallowed, and then looked up at you. You fiddled with your fingers awaiting his reaction. But nothing. He just sat there and drank, showing absolutely no reaction. "So, what do you think?" you squeaked trying to get anything out of him. You watched him duck his head down suppressing laughter.

"You stinker! You're making fun of me!" you laughed, placing your hands on your hips.

"Sorry I just can't help myself, your reactions are so cute," he chuckled putting his reading glasses at the top of his head.

"Seriously though, do you like your coffee?" you asked softly.

"No, I love it, Baby," this might be the best coffee I have ever had," he revealed.

"Oh, wait till you discover cream and sugar," you quipped sarcastically. To which he gave you a playful eye roll.

The day went by very quickly. The shop was closed due to the blizzard so you worked on the holiday decorations for the store. With Miguel upstairs on business Zoom calls. His coworkers saw the festivity and warmness of your home in the background and immediately drilled him with questions. Asking if he was at his girlfriend's house, and revealing that Miguel has no love life.

You walked back up to your apartment after all of the work was done in the shop. You came back to Miguel surprisingly watching a Christmas movie. "Hey wanna come join?" he asked motioning for you to come over.

"What a pleasant surprise, you? Watching holiday films? Hell has officially frozen over," you teased as you plopped down next to him.

"Oh, stop it," he rebutted as wrapped an arm around you pulling you into his side. To say you were taken aback by this sudden gesture was an understatement. You looked up at him with a puzzled face hoping your flustered expression wasn't too visible. He looked down at you with a small smirk. You felt a million jingle bells go off in your stomach at that very moment.

You snuggled against him enjoying the film he put on, and the warmth he radiated. Without realizing it, you had both fallen asleep on the couch together. You were both softly snoring, your head resting on his chest. Your arms wrapped around him like he was a giant teddy bear. Amid your rest, both of your phones began to buzz uncontrollably. Miguel woke up and shook you awake. "The storms are over," he said softly. You groaned, too comfortable to get up.

"C'mon Baby, I have to get up," he chuckled.

The two of you finally got up. Miguel got his things together and you both headed down into the shop. You were going to see him out of the shop when you forgot that you prepared a special something for him while he was working.

As he began to walk out the door, you heard the bells jangle and called out to him, "Wait!"

You caught up with him outside and you handed him a brown paper bag that had gingerbread man cookies decorated to look like him. "I made these for you," you huffed shivering a bit as the frigid air hit your face.

"Thank you, Baby, now get inside, and get warm, you're shivering," he said, ushering you to get your freezing butt in your warm shop.

You waved goodbye to Miguel and watched him get into his car before opening up the shop. The day went by well. Loads of customers came in excited to try out the new holiday menu you made. The grumpy(Miguel-themed) gingerbread man cookies were a hit.

As the customers all left and the clock hit 9:30 pm you wondered where Miguel was. He was usually there by this time. But there was no sign of him at all. It was unusual but you decided to shake it off and lock up since he obviously wasn't coming that night.

You were more disappointed than you would've imagined you'd be. I guess I've gotten too used to his company, it's like routine now, you thought to yourself. You slept that night hoping to see Miguel the next morning.

Next Pt.6...

taglist:

@iite-cool @jewelz-teehe @br0-please @thesilenthill @d1lf-loverrr @corpsebridenightamare @laysmt @bitchystrawberrystudent @lotionlamp @local-mr-frog @scaleniusrm @migueloharastruelove @thedevax @veyveys @amber-content

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creedslove · 8 months

Note

Any any but if I was to have one where my birthdays haven’t been the best and have makes it the most amazing birthday ever

THANK YOU SOO MUCH 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Javier Peña x f!reader

A/N: Happy birthday baby!!! I wish you all the best, may your day be full of happiness and blessings and also presents ❤️ how old are you turning if you don't mind me asking?

• Javi knows your birthdays haven't been the best, it pains him because he thinks these days should be special and good for everyone, exactly like mama and papa Peña taught him

• so he decided he would try to make a difference for you; it's important to Javi that you have the day you deserve so you can expect his romantic and sweet version for your special day

• and I'm talking about gentle, romantic, sweet and affectionate Javi all the time only for you; from the moment you wake up until you go to bed, he'll decide to be yours

• so you can be sure that by gifting you, Javi means sex, because cariño, let's face it, that man is all about physical touch and erotism, which means he will wake you up on your birthday by going down on you

• you'll be in your peaceful slumber and having sweet dreams, when suddenly they become wetter and wetter just as you began feeling more turned on, swearing your dream is so real you can almost feel it in your cunt, and then surprise: Javi is between your legs to wish you a good morning

• and after that, you can be sure he will bring you breakfast in bed, and not only will Javi have prepared you your favorite, but he will bring you flowers too and maybe, if he's playful, even balloons

• then, during the day, he's all yours: he will take you to do whatever you want... Wanna go out, wanna go shopping, wanna chill in a park, visit a museum or anything at all, he'll be willing to do it

• for lunch, Javi will take you to your favorite restaurant and he won't save anything at all: best wine of the house, your favorite dish, dessert, whatever you wish in reality

• in the evening, you can expect Javi to have set a party for you, nothing too big or too fancy, but a gathering of friends where they'll all celebrate you, give you presents, have some finger foods and some cake

• he will love to see you having a very good time, it will fill his heart with love and affection

• Javi will also give you some meaningful present, whether it's something big like a piece of jewelry or something more artistic like a painting he thinks you might like

• at the end of the party he will help you clean up and spend the last minutes of your birthday together, pulling you to dance with him in a small living room, he'll kiss you and remind you how much he loves you ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña headcanon #javier peña headcanons

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raythekiller · 1 year

Note

do you mind doing a NSFW & SFW alphabet for EJ? either one is fine if you don't feel like doing both! if not it's totally fine <3

🗒 ❛ SFW Alphabet ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Eyeless Jack

#Notes: NSFW alphabet can be found here

pronouns used: none, gn! reader

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

A - AFFECTION

He's a little bit distant at first. I've mentioned this quite a few times before, but he doesn't think he deserves affection, so he's a little reluctant to give it as well. Once he opens up, he mainly shows it through quality time - really enjoys when you're both in the same room, doing different things but still in each other's company.

B - BEST FRIEND

He's surprisingly considerate as a best friend, always hyper aware of your needs and doing his best to make sure you're comfortable. Just a gentle giant.

C - CUDDLES Normally the big spoon. He's super warm, almost like a "human" furnace, so he's great to cuddle with on colder days.

D - DOMESTIC

He's basically a malewife. Yes he does the cooking, yes he does the cleaning. Likes to keep his space tidy and is a super good cook (you don't wanna know where the meat came from, though).

E - ENDING

When breaking up with someone, he goes directly to the point - no beating around the bush. It's most likely because of something they did or his "villain complex", as I like to call it, where he believes he doesn't deserve love due to being a horrible person.

F - FIANCE(E)

He really wanted to get married before the cult sacrifice thing. His desire didn't change much after, but now he has some issues to work through before possibly making it happen.

G - GENTLE

Again, he's a big softie. Handles you like you're made out of porcelain, scared that the slightest of touches from him might hurt you. Emotionally, he's not too different - always thinks twice before talking, aware as to not hurt anyone's feelings.

H - HUGS

A little reluctant to give them at first, but once he does, he's gentle and warm. He's super tall, so normally your head is resting on his chest. Makes you want to not let go.

I - I LOVE YOU

My god, it takes him forever to say it. Once he does, it's barely above a whisper, almost like he's hoping you won't hear him as he doesn't want to be too forward or make you uncomfortable.

J - JEALOUSY

Doesn't get jealous easily. He trusts you, so he sees no reason for it. Even when he does, he normally keeps quiet about it, accidently giving you the silent treatment.

K - KISSES

Super gentle. He has fangs and tusks and such, so he knows he has to watch out as to not hurt you with them. Likes kissing your hand the most, especially if you're cupping his face, giving him easy access to your palm.

L - LITTLE ONES

Has a soft spot for kids. Sally absolutely adores him and it's mutual - he's just so caring with them in general. Wanted to have some of his own, but given his circumstances, he realizes it might not be the best idea.

M - MORNING

He wakes up early and ready to go. Definitely the type to bring you breakfast in bed, especially if you're not much of a morning bird.

N - NIGHT

Even though he doesn't actually need much sleep due to not being human, he goes to sleep pretty early. The type to cling to you in his sleep.

O - OPEN

Takes a long, long while for him to open up about his past. One, because he doesn't like to talk about it, and two, because he doesn't see it as relevant to your relationship. Once you start growing closer, though, he realizes he can't exactly run from it for long.

P - PATIENCE

Absolutely the most patient out of all the creeps. You have to do something seriously fucked up to get him to be even slightly pissed off.

Q - QUIZZES

Remembers pretty much everything you tell him, almost like he wrote it down or something. You'll be chilling and he'll just bring you your favorite snack from your childhood cause he saw it and thought about you.

R - REMEMBER

His favorite moment is when he realized you loved him as well. Might be before you even started dating or months into the relationship - the moment you do something that makes it click for him that he's a actually, genuinely loved is his favorite.

S - SECURITY

Extremely protective, more so due to instinct than anything else. He's not possessive, he just worries about you.

T - TRY

Doesn't really do fancy dates or gifts - thinks that just getting to spend time together is enough.

U - UGLY

Unless you don't count the occasional cannibalism, he doesn't really have any bad habits.

V - VANITY

Doesn't exactly care about his appearance, per se, but refuses to take off his mask most of the time. Not because he thinks he's ugly, but because he doesn't look exactly human and is self conscious about it.

W - WHOLE

He never really felt complete before meeting you, there was always a void in his heart he couldn't quite fill until you came along.

X - XTRA

Has a tail. Need I say more?

Y - YUCK

Here's a post about his petpeeves.

Z - ZZZ

Again, goes to sleep really early. Also, he purrs in his sleep. No, I will not elaborate.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ray.writes #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader

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moon-mage · 2 months

Text

SNIFFLES ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Summary: Vil realizes he's falling ill to the common cold and can't girlboss his way out of it. Luckily, Rook and Epel are there to care for him but naturally they have to be dramatic about it too.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Rated: SFW / T+ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Characters: Vil Schoenheit | Rook Hunt | Epel Felmier ๋๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tags: Sickfic, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RookVil can be interpreted as platonic or romantic, Soft Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt Being Rook Hunt, Pomefiore being A FAMILY, Vil Schoenheit-centric, Epel and Rook are the only ones allowed to dance on Vil's nerves, if anyone else tries it they will be destroyed ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Warnings: None ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ A/N: Finally got some courage to post some writing. This is actually based off the time I got real sick in college. Mix that with my normal feelings toward Vil Schoenheit and you get this self-indulgent fic! You can read this as platonic or romantic with Rook and Vil. This is a two parter and Epel comes in the next part. Please enjoy ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ Wordcount: 1667 | AO3 | YOU ARE HERE | Part II | Part III (TBA)

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The morning had started off as any other. Vil had completed his morning ritual with time to spare. The run he had with Jack was fulfilling, his protein shake was extra satisfying, and he was even impressed at how symmetrical his eye makeup was today. If anything, today seemed to be going pretty strong and Vil was content with this.

It was the end of the week and Vil had nothing particularly planned for the upcoming weekend. The last thing Pomefiore’s housewarden was going to do was laze around when given rare and precious freetime. So he was going to find a way to utilize that time to be efficient. The dorm WAS in need of a good cleaning…and he was sure no one was going to be absent this weekend. He was going to run that idea by Rook during lunch but he was most certain his vice housewarden would agree with the plan.

Currently, Vil was in study hall getting a head start on next week’s lesson. The blond had sat in his usual corner tucked away from unwanted attention. With his water bottle full, his mechanical pencils filled, his highlighters organized, his airpods in and playing his favorite concentration ASMR, and his space free of extra clutter…he was ready to rock this.

About an hour went by when Vil realized something was off.

Was the AC broken or something? It was unusually cold in the library today. Vil felt a slight shiver as he buttoned up his uniform blazer. He reached for his water bottle and realized…he was incredibly thirsty. He sipped through the straw at the cold water while convincing himself that the reason why he was chilled. He then realized that no matter how much he drank, he felt strangely unsatisfied. His throat felt tight and achy, no matter how much cold water he consumed.

Vil found himself just sitting there staring at his textbook after a while. The sudden malaise became distracting to the point he couldn’t focus properly. The slight shiver was turning into an ache that wracked up his back. The blazer doing nothing to help…not even his gloves provided much warmth to his hands.

Being a firm believer in knowing his body, Vil takes off his gloves and places them on the table. He let out a slight sigh and relaxed his posture, allowing his body to go on auto so he could have a better idea of what could be happening right now. The model notices that he starts to shiver much more intensely than he thought he would. The ache in his back intensifies, his mouth is incredibly dry despite having downed most of his water, and he just generally feels weak. He lets out a gasp in shock when he realizes his teeth are even chattering a bit.

“That’s enough of that.” Vil mutters to himself quickly as he straightens back up, reigning in control of his body with ease. He knew it would be a matter of time before he wouldn’t be able to hide his symptoms and the thought made him uneasy. Vil HATED being sick…being sick meant he had to rest. Resting excessively meant a lack of productivity. Forcing himself to work through illness was foolish and the housewarden scolded anyone else who tried to do such…

The only times Vil found being sick to not be the worst thing on the planet were the times he and Rook had fallen ill from saying out in the cold during one of their in depth conversations. That just meant they’d be stuck in the infirmary together the next day continuing the conversation slowly while slipping in and out of consciousness until they were forced back to their dorms after the school day.

Though that hasn’t happened since Rook joined Pomefiore.

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It’s lunch time as Vil steps outside to head for the cafeteria. The sun shines bright in the sky. It’s supposed to be a hot day today…but Vil felt absolutely chilled to the bone at this point. The ache in his back seemed to make its home right in between his shoulder blades and now he felt fatigued from simply walking from the library to outside.

“Roi du poison~”

Vil stops in his tracks when he hears the familiar ring of Rook’s voice calling him from behind. Vil let out a sigh…there was no way Rook wasn’t going to notice. The hunter notices EVERYTHING about Vil. Though Vil was sure he couldn’t have looked that noticeably ill this quickly…Rook would be able to tell with his supernatural ability to just notice the slightest change in anyone or anything from the last time he had seen them.

“Rook.” Vil turns to face Rook as he approaches. The hunter stops when he gets close enough to take a good look at Vil. His green eyes widening in surprise.

“Oh, Vil!” Rook steps close to take a closer look at his queen. He tuts and shakes his head, his blond bob moving with him dramatically. “My poor, poor Vil. You are falling ill, are you not?”

“It would seem so-ow.” Vil deadpans as Rook gently smacks the back of his un-gloved hand against Vil’s forehead. Any other time Vil would scold Rook for putting his hand on his face..but frankly he didn’t have the energy and he understood the sentiment behind it….even if Vil knew checking temperatures this way was rather inaccurate and outdated. “You done?”

“Mon dieu! Are you not…hot?” Rook asks Vil concerned as he feels the heat radiating off Vil’s forehead. His eyes wonder down to Vil’s uniform and he raises his eyebrows when he notices Vil’s blazer buttoned up and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Quite the opposite…and it is hot outside Rook. That is a poor way to check my temperature.” Vil says nonchalantly as he reaches up to pull Rook’s hand off his forehead.

Rook’s hand adjusts to take Vil’s gently and he squeezes it. He gives the housewarden a look of sincere concern.

“Allow me to escort you to the infirmary so it can be accurately checked, s'il vous plaît?”

Vil gave Rook that annoyed frown when he truly didn’t want to do something…but Vil knew that eventually he was going to run out of steam and he’d rather not be caught lacking during class in front of everyone when he can just quietly slip into the infirmary.

“Fine. Take me away.” Vil sighs in defeat while Rook smiles in delight to be able to assist his queen. He keeps a hold of Vil’s hand and escorts him with almost a pep in his step to the infirmary…Vil walking beside him much less enthusiastically.

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“Sevens, we picked the worst time.” Vil mutters annoyed as he sits beside Rook in the waiting area of the infirmary. It was rather crowded today with students. Most of them were waiting to get their medications for the lunch hour. Some of them were genuinely under the weather. A few were probably just trying to get out of afternoon tests.

“At least we are in the perfect place were you collapse out of sheer exhaustion, oui?” Rook asks cutely as he turns from a random magazine he found on the table and smiles brightly to Vil.

Vil gives him a death glare and even scowls a bit. This does not phase the hunter in the slightest.

“Rook, I am not DYING. I wouldn’t suddenly just collapse from having a cold.” Vil’s voice is hushed but still more dramatic than he meant to be.

“Ah, but your condition is not improving. You are already losing your composure ever so slightly.” Rook says in an almost sing-song voice, pointing out Vil’s slightly more dramatized demeanor. This was an indication to the hunter that Vil was becoming so unwell he couldn’t keep his polished demeanor up as he usually did when his hunter teased him so merrily.

“I’m leaving.” Vil threatened with narrowed eyes.

“Non. You must stay and be assessed by the practitioner. I promise I will be kinder to you since you are in such a state, my Roi du Poison.” Rook sets the magazine down and takes off his blazer.

“What are y-” Vil pauses when Rook places his blazer over Vil like a blanket. Vil blushes slightly at the warmth of the blazer over him. He was still chilled to the bone but Rook’s blazer provided such a warm and security that it calmed him down considerably.

“Rest. I will wake you when they call for you.” Rook’s eyes and voice softened as he guided Vil to rest his head on his shoulder. “No one will bother you. I will keep you safe.”

Any other time, Vil would insist that he needed no protection and that he wasn’t going to sleep in a waiting room where he would be susceptible to possible vultures waiting to take come candids of him so off guard….but this time he didn’t.

Vil nods slowly and rests his head on Rook’s shoulder, pulling the hunter’s blazer up cover some of his face before he closes his eyes. He let his body relax, shielded by the blazer. He really was tired wasn’t he? And achy…and cold…now his mind was a bit hazy. With a tired sigh, he snuggles closer to Rook and allows himself to drift to sleep.

Rook smiles warmly at the sight of Vil falling to sleep so quickly on him. The hunter casually picks his magazine up again but not before looking around the infirmary. His green eyes individually scanning every person in the waiting room as he wore an overly polite smile…he was very much warning everyone to NOT try it. Anyone who was watching the two quickly looked away and some people even hurried out of their seats and left the infirmary entirely.

Yep, no one was going to bother his sweetly sick sleeping queen.

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