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songforeddiemunson · 1 year ago

Note

Can you please do a Eddie X virgin reader where there has always been romance and they never acted on it until they confess when there watching a film and then a couple weeks after they make out then have soft sex

Thank you so much for the request!! I made some minor adjustments because that's just the route the narrative took me, but I hope you like it! I'm SO sorry this took so long, it's been a nutty few weeks.

NEXT SUMMER

Eddie Munson x Fem!Virgin!Reader (description vague apart from AFAB for inclusivity)

Summary: Eddie meets a cousin of the Wheelers who is visiting for the summer, and falls head over heels. The problem is, she lives in Chicago, and needs to return in the fall. Can they handle it?

Warnings/Tropes: longing with a bit of angst, fluffy affection, romantic soft smut, mild language, aftercare, mostly this is just really sweet.

Word Count: 5517

August 1990

You first caught Eddie’s eye on a late summer evening, standing under the twinkling lights of carnival rides at the county fair. It was the sort of cotton candy sky just moments before the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of another august day. The droning cicadas were rapidly giving way to the cricket’s song, but all of those innocuous details faded away as Eddie watched you as you waited in line for the Scrambler, talking and laughing with your companion.

Eddie’s heart nearly leapt in his throat when he saw that the person you were speaking with was someone he actually knew. Nancy Wheeler! his brain screamed, and before he realized what he was doing, his feet were carrying him forward as if he was on autopilot, such was your magnetism.

Nancy caught sight of Eddie as he approached, and her face broke out into a broad grin. “Eddie!” she exclaimed with delight. “It’s so great to see you!” She hugged him as you stood by, a polite smile gracing your lips.

“Likewise, Wheeler,” Eddie replied fondly, and when his eyes slipped to you, your heart nearly ceased its rhythm. The breath was stolen from your lungs, and all you could do was stare wordlessly at the handsome man who evidently was a friend to Nancy.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was experiencing the same physical paralysis under your gaze.

“Eddie! You have to meet my little cousin! She goes by Ivy, but her name is–”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, cutting Nancy off. Blood rushed to your cheeks in mortification. “I am not little, I’m twenty years old now!’

Nancy giggled fondly. “Well sure, but you’ll always be little to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m only two years younger than you, but whatever.”

Eddie laughed, and your cheeks pinkened even more. “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie,” you said. You struggled to meet his eyes; it was like staring at the sun.

“It’s good to meet you too Ivy, if– if you don’t mind me calling you that.”

You smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Please do.”

And so you spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and Nancy, keeping things oh so casual but feeling like you might die every time he looked at you. You remained aloof because, after all, you didn’t even live in Hawkins, and eventually you’d have to return home to the city.

When Eddie first learned that you would be returning to Chicago at the end of the summer, he was crestfallen but struggled to mask it.

“I’m sure Chicago is really cool,” he said with forced bravado. “Way cooler than boring old Hawkins.”

“Oh but I love coming here,” you breathed enthusiastically. “Chicago is cool and all, but this is so nice. I love smelling the mown grass, and being able to go to the drive-in movie theater, and all that great summertime stuff.” You gestured around you. “And the county fair! I love coming to the fair.”

Eddie smiled despite his growing sadness. “You make it sound pretty nice. But really it’s just cornfields…”

“...I love corn,” you countered.

“And strip malls…”

“.....strip malls always have video stores, and I love movies.” you said with a grin.

Nancy returned from buying a candy apple.

You pointed at her. “Candy apples! I can’t buy candy apples in Chicago.”

“Hmm?” she replied, confused, chewing. “I’m sure you can buy candle apples in Chicag–”

“Not from the fair though,” you interrupted. “They’re better from the fair.”

“Point taken,” Eddie said with a chuckle, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“I do still want to jump in a creek though,” you said wistfully.

“Gross, no. There are leeches,” Nancy said.

“Not in creeks,” Eddie laughed. “Ponds, maybe. But creeks are fine.”

And so the evening wound down. You and Eddie went back and forth over the virtues of city vs country living, but Eddie had to admit, you did have a way of making Hawkins sound pretty great. When it was time to part ways, Eddie desperately wanted to kiss you, so much that his lips nearly burned from the need, but he refrained. What would a girl like you ever see in a guy like him?

Two days later, on a late Sunday morning, where the summer sun shone relentlessly through a bluebird sky, Eddie picked up the phone and dialed the Wheeler’s number with a shaking hand.

Mike answered, sounding like he just woke up.

“Mehllo?” he mumbled by way of answer.

“Mike! It’s Eddie.”

“Munson?!” that seemed to wake him up. “Dude! It’s been forever!”

“Yeah man! How are you doing?”

“Oh things are good, I’m going off to college next month, and–”

“Is your cousin around? Ivy?” Eddie blurted anxiously, covering his face in embarrassment over the way he must have sounded. “Sorry man, it’s just that I need to ask her something. I would love to catch up with you though! Before you head to school; we should get together.”

“Yeah definitely,” Mike responded, unbothered. "We’ll catch up. I’ll go get Ivy….”

Eddie heard the handset thump against whatever surface Mike set it upon, and heard him call your name. He faintly heard your voice respond, which made Eddie’s already hammering heart pick up its pace. More fumbling noises ended with a slightly breathless, “Hello? Eddie?”

“Hi Ivy,” he replied, and you thought maybe you could hear a smile in his voice. “Wanna go jump in a creek?”

Your summertime in Hawkins was coming to a close; in only a few days’ time you were due to return to Chicago and university. As the final days ticked away, a ball of sadness gradually grew in the pit of your stomach. It was the best summer ever, and you were sorry to see its end.

Since the night you met him at the fair, Eddie had taken you cliff jumping into the Bear Creek, something that simultaneously terrified and thrilled you, leaving you more exhilarated than you have felt in a long while. But when you weren’t jumping, you simply floated in the water, watching the dappled sun dance across its surface, loving life.

Eddie also took you to the drive-in theater. It wasn’t a date, since he didn’t technically ask you out like that, and Nancy and Mike also insisted on tagging along. You lined camping chairs up in front of the van and rolled down the windows with the sound up loud so you could all sit together. It was a lovely, balmy night of watching Total Recall, and you ate too many skittles while swatting mosquitoes. It was perfect.

And now summer was ending and it was time to go, and you couldn’t possibly want to return to Chicago less. Why did you have to meet Eddie now?

You sighed as you packed up your things, folding clothes and setting them in your suitcase slowly, unmotivated. Nancy perched on the side of your bed, watching.

“You seem really bummed out,” Nancy remarked.

“I guess I’m not looking forward to going home. I wish I could stay a bit longer.” you replied, not bothering to hide your low mood.

“Would this have anything to do with a certain long-haired boy that lives on the other side of town?” Nancy prodded. It’s not like you were hiding anything.

“That obvious? And he’s twenty-four, he’s not a boy.”

Nancy nodded, with a giggle. “Fair enough.”

“And…maybe. I don’t know. It’s not like he’s kissed me or asked me out properly....” You stalled your packing, and you folded and unfolded the same sweater over and over while you let your thoughts wander.

“But you want him to?” Nancy prodded gently after a moment.

You sighed. “Yeah, I do. It’s kind of all I can think about actually,” you added with a wistful chuckle. “But what’s the point when I live all the way in Chicago the other nine months of the year?” You flopped down dramatically on the bed with a huff.

“Maybe you can talk on the phone and stuff throughout the year, and pick up where you left off next summer?”

“Long distance?” You allowed a glimmer of hope to creep in. “Do you think that could work?”

Nancy shrugged. “I did it with Jonathan when he moved to California. It’s not easy, but it can work.”

You hitched a deep sigh. “What if he doesn’t want to?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy replied.

The sky was overcast as you loaded the last of your bags into the back of the Wheeler’s car, matching your mood. You hugged Mike and Karen goodbye; Ted and Nancy were going to ride with you to the train station. You scanned the empty suburban streets for Eddie, but he was nowhere to be seen, causing your heart to sink even lower.

Just as you were about to climb into the backseat, you heard a sound that pulled your attention toward the woods at the edge of the neighborhood. There was some rustling and you saw that the flora was jostling about. What the–

Eddie suddenly materialized from the trees, calling, “Wait!” as he trotted over toward you. Your heart reversed its previous downward trajectory with haste, and happiness soared through you so abruptly and completely that you thought you might fall over.

“I cut through the woods,” Eddie stated breathlessly. “I was afraid I wouldn’t make it.”

“Just in time,” you grinned.

Ted poked his head out of the car’s driver window. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get going.”

“Oh– Okay, I won’t take long,” Eddie stammered slightly. “I just wanted to say good bye and ask you…is it okay if I call you?”

You struggled to contain your delight at the suggestion. “Yes Eddie, I would really love that.” You pulled a small notepad from your purse, jotted your number down, and tore the scrap of paper out before handing it over. “Don’t lose this.”

Eddie had the fleeting thought that he would have your digits tattooed on his flesh to ensure their permanence. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Ted honked the horn, even though you were all standing right there.

“Okay, well I have to go. Call me tomorrow?”

Eddie nodded, his throat suddenly gone dry. “I will.”

As you sat down and closed the car door behind you, Ted wasted no time pulling away. You twisted around in the seat to watch Eddie grow smaller as the distance increased. He raised a hand and waved shortly before you went around a bend, causing you to lose sight of him.

The temporary high of seeing Eddie was quickly supplanted by sadness. It was going to be a very long wait for next summer.

June 1991

Once you were clear of the train platform, your rolling suitcase and duffle bag appropriately situated, you bolted through the crowd as quickly as possible.

Nine long months you waited. Nine months of speaking on the phone for hours nearly every night, talking about everything, watching movies together, helping Eddie write his next D&D campaign, discussing books. You shared hopes, dreams, wishes, and desires. Nine months of longing. Nine months of imagining his lips on yours, his fingers gripping the meat of your thighs, picturing him doing things to you that you’d never done with anyone before. You were tired of waiting.

You never officially declared yourselves to each other, still hadn’t even kissed, so you couldn’t be completely sure that he felt the same way. But you had a pretty good idea; after all, would a guy spend that much time on the phone with you if he didn’t feel some kind of way? He said he was going to pick you up at the train station after all, so that had to count for something.

You were determined. Eddie would not slip through your fingers; this summer was going to change everything.

And there he was. As you entered the terminal with the other passengers, you spotted him immediately. He was leaning up against the wall, torn tight jeans and black band tee, long chestnut curls cascading around his shoulders. He was beautiful.

The way his face lit up when he spotted you could probably heal the world, if you could find a way to harness it.

You let your bags drop to the ground as you ran to him, and he opened his arms to you as you collided with him, slamming him back against the wall. His arms slid up around your back and gripped you tightly, his breath fanned across one ear, setting all your senses alight, and you simply resided in his embrace and felt the object of your affection absolutely envelop you. Oh how you had waited for this.

You pulled away just enough to look at his face. He was undeniably very happy, eyes bright, smiling broadly, his dimple making itself known.

“Hey you,” he said.

“Hi you,” you replied.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I've been counting the minutes,” you said. You thought maybe you were going to cry.

“Try seconds,” he whispered, opening his eyes wide as if he was revealing a scandalous secret.

The rest of the bustling train station faded away. The voices and echoes were reduced to a muffled din, and all the people who hastened past you became less corporeal. As your eyes roamed his face, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

He blinked and pulled away, and as soon as it started, the spell was broken.

He hastened over to your bags and grabbed hold of them, slinging your duffel over his shoulder and taking your rollbag in one hand. “Let’s go,” he said with a look over his shoulder, his hair bouncing as he hurried through the terminal with you in tow. He slowed as he approached the doors to outside. “Uh, I’ll take you to the Wheeler’s to settle in, but I wondered…” He paused, his expression belying his own lack of confidence. He looked almost shy. “I got an apartment about a month back, finally…a space of my own,” he continued. “I wondered if maybe you wanted to watch a movie later?”

“Eddie!” you breathed, excited. “That’s so great! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said with a small shrug. “No pressure, if you don’t want to. I just wanted to put it out there, no strings attached.”

“I would love to,” you beamed.

“Do you want to know what movie I picked out?” Eddie asked.

“I really don’t care,” you replied, and you laughed together as you walked to the parking lot.

You waited anxiously for Eddie’s arrival later that evening.

“It’s a daaaate!” Mike sang as if he was still fourteen and not a freshman in college. Nancy slapped him on the arm.

“Don’t tease,” she admonished, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

“It is not a date!” you countered as you checked your reflection for the thousandth time. “Doesn’t someone have to say it’s a date for it to actually be a date?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Some things are just sort of….assumed.”

You and Nancy glared at him in tandem. “Uh, no thank you. Nobody should make assumptions about anything like that,” Nancy scolded.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah I mean, what if he just thinks I’m a great friend, and I go and spoil everything going in there thinking this is a date?”

Mike gestured toward you as you touched up your lip gloss. “Says the chick who has been fussing over her appearance obsessively for the last 45 minutes.”

“I’m just being prepared,” you said.

“For what?” Nancy said with a chuckle.

“Just in case it is a date. I never said I didn’t want it to be.”

Nancy laughed as Mike groaned in exasperation. Fortunately, you were saved from further discussion by the doorbell. You ran from the room before anyone could stop you, grabbing your shoulder bag on the way.

You opened the door and revealed a slightly nervous looking Eddie, and he nearly stole your breath away.

Eddie was resplendent in a blue and black plaid button-up shirt with his black jeans and black converse sneakers. He had clearly made an effort to tame his hair, and his waves were soft and tidy. His breath caught when he saw you.

“H– hi,” he said with a grin.

“Hi yourself,” you said. You chanced a look over your shoulder, fearful of an audience. “Okay let’s go before Mike and Nancy get weird and interrogate us,” you said, grabbing Eddie by the hand and making him laugh while shutting the door behind you. Eddie held his van door open for you before walking around the other side and starting up the engine. Was that aftershave he was wearing?

Butterflies exploded in your chest. Oh my god, this is a date, you thought to yourself elatedly.

Eddie’s place was nice, simple, and clean. He didn’t have much in the way of furniture or decor yet, but he had the basics, and it was all his.

You were halfway through Goodfellas– which was really good– and sipping on bud light bottles on opposite ends of the couch. You were sitting with your legs curled underneath you, your left foot sticking out along the couch cushion. Eddie reached over and gently laid a hand on your ankle, pulling your attention away from the film.

“I’m gonna grab another beer. You want anything?”

“Sure, you want me to pause it?”

“Nah, I’ve seen this twice already,” he said as he headed to the kitchen.

“Eddie!” you said, smiling. “Why didn’t you rent something you’ve never seen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he called. “I love this movie.”

You picked up the remote and paused the film anyway.

“But it just came out on VHS!” you said, laughing. "How have you seen it multiple times already?"

He returned with two freshly opened beers and handed one to you. He sat down again, a little closer this time.

“What– you don’t watch movies over and over again every chance you get? Is that…like….not normal or something?” He smirked at his own sarcasm.

“Not that quickly I’m afraid,” you said, and he laughed out loud.

“I guess I’m a bit of a fixator,” he said. “I fixate on things.”

“I suppose we all have things we fixate on,” you said.

“What do you fixate on?” He asked. He was leaning slightly in your direction. It made your heart speed up a little bit.

“Well lately,” you said, drawing out your syllables and pretending to think really hard about it. “Lately it’s been this guy.”

“Oooh,” Eddie said. “Tell me more.”

“Well, he looks a little rough around the edges, but it turns out that he’s the sweetest.”

“He is?” Eddie played along.

“Oh yes. And he has the biggest, most soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s like he’s always seeing the world in new and interesting ways. And don’t get me started on his lips…”

“What about his lips?” Eddie asked.

“They’re so full and plump, like fruit, and I want to nibble on them.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh. “You want to nibble on his lips?”

“Among other things,” you said, a little breathily.

As your eyes flicked down to his lips, he licked them unconsciously, and you knew everything was about to change.

Eddie leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and he raised his right hand to cup the back of your head, pulling you forward. You felt his breath fan across your cheek as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“What other things did you have in mind?” he murmured.

“I want him,” you said simply. “But I don’t know how he feels.”

“Hmm,” Eddie cooed. “I think it’s safe to say he wants you too.”

“He does?”

“Oh yes,” he breathed, and then he kissed you.

Your breathing hitched– it was finally happening.

You enjoyed the simple feeling of his beautiful lips against yours for a moment before you parted your lips to deepen the kiss. You slotted his bottom lip between your teeth and applied gentle pressure. Eddie’s quiet gasp did things to you.

You chuckled, and rose up on your knees before pressing your body firmly against his, the movie now forgotten.

Eddie broke away, beaming. “I thought you probably felt the same way, but I wasn’t sure, and I was afraid to make a move and fuck it all up–”

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” you said.

He did as he was told. He also dialed up the passion, and you kissed each other hungrily, pouring nine months of longing into your efforts. Your tongues danced together, your hands roamed the expanse of his back, and you slid one hand up and under his shirt to feel his flesh.

Eddie gasped at your touch, and pulled away. His pupils were blown wide from the excitement, and you imagined that yours might look the same. He cupped the side of your face in his hands, boring his eyes into yours.

“Are we together? Are you mine?” he asked, and your heart broke and soared with equal measure at the sheer sweet earnestness of him.

“Yes, Eddie,” was all you could muster before he was kissing you again. He tipped you back and gently laid you down across the sofa, allowing his hand to travel up the length of your torso, keeping things chaste, but only barely.

You laid together and kissed deeply for a time, until you decided you’d had enough.

“Eddie,” you said. “T– take me to bed.”

“Are you sure? That’s really what you want?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t hide your nerves, and he gently pinched your chin to tilt your head up. “You seem anxious,” he said softly.

“Well, I – I haven’t actually done it before.”

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly.

“I’ve done some stuff, a little hand stuff mostly, but never, uh– it. Sex. I’ve never had sex.”

Eddie smiled affectionately at your display of nerves. “Relax, babe. It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do.”

“But I am ready,” you said, more assuredly. “I really want to do this with you. I want you to be my first.”

Eddie searched your face for any further signs of nervousness or unease, but all he saw in your eyes now was conviction and honestly. You reached up a hand and laid it on his cheek.

“Nine months I’ve waited for this. I knew a long time ago that you were the one, Eddie. I’ve waited long enough.’

Eddie nodded. “Okay,” he said softly.

He moved to stand and gently scooped you up in his arms, making you giggle, and he carried you over to the bedroom. He kicked the door open with his foot, making you laugh some more, and laid you on his bed, which was clean if unmade. He leaned down and braced himself on either side of your body to kiss you.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me,” he said between kisses, and then stood back up to pull his shirt over his head. He did it in one fluid motion, letting his soft curls dance across his shoulders and back, and he was a sight to behold. You’d seen him with no shirt on last summer when he took you swimming, but somehow this was different.

“May I?” he asked, and paused with his fingers above the fly of your denim shorts. You nodded, and let Eddie loosen the buttons before pulling your shorts down along your legs and tossing them aside.

You smiled up at him as he loosened his own jeans and pushed them down before stepping out of them, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers. He returned to the bed and laid next to you, gently trailing one palm up your body and pushing up your shirt, resting it at the bottom of your ribcage just below the underwire of your bra. Eddie resumed kissing you; it was something you were quite sure you would never tire of. He was amazing.

After a beat he pulled away to look down at you. “I need to get you ready,” he said softly. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“Okay Eddie,” you replied. He pulled your shirt over your head gently, and then moved one hand to your back to unclasp your bra.

“You seem to have some experience with this,” you said, feeling a stab of self-consciousness.

Eddie paused. “A little. I’m not a virgin, but I’m hardly a Casanova or anything…”

“It’s okay, I don’t need to know.” you looked away.

Eddie was not pleased with the loss of eye-contact, and he could sense your discomfort.

“Hey,” he said softly, turning your face to his. “It’s only been a couple different girls. I really haven’t had much action for a guy my age, trust me. And nothing serious, ever.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re special. I want this– I want it to be special.”

You relaxed and smiled. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.”

“Okay then.”

He pulled your loosened bra off, leaving you in only your knickers. “If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

Your answering smile was cut short as he bent and placed a kiss on your nipple. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, before he sucked the little bud between his lips, setting all your senses alight.

“Oh–that feels nice.” you sighed.

As Eddie suckled you, he slowly trailed his hand down the length of your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He paused at the elastic of your underwear, slipping one finger just under the thin white band, but continued no further.

“You can– ah– you can touch me Eddie,” you managed between gasps.

With no further preamble, he slowly slid his hand into the delicate cotton, and his fingers found your heat. He removed his mouth from your nipple, leaving it feeling cool and bereft, before kissing you lasciviously as he slowly pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped, but as quickly as he had entered, he was gone again. He dipped in smoothly a second time, but then turned his attention to your clit, applying gentle pressure and circling it with his moistened finger.

You arched your back and moaned at the sensation. Your senses were heightened, your heart was racing, and you couldn’t believe that you were here, with Eddie, after all this time. You were delighted; you’d waited so long for this, and you were going to enjoy it.

Eddie slowly picked up the pace and pressure of his ministrations. You felt as if all the blood in your body was rushing to the space between your legs, and your body began to tremble. It felt good– damn good. You could hear the wet sounds of your arousal as his fingers picked up speed, and then, without warning, he slid one back inside of you. You moaned as he pumped you with one finger, sliding out, stroking the sensitive button of nerves, pushing back in. You were teetering on the edge of climax when, suddenly, he stopped.

“Wha–” you said blearily, as Eddie padded over to his nightstand.

“I’m just grabbing a rubber babe,” Eddie smiled, as he pulled open the drawer and held up a foil square.

“Ah, right.”

“Just want to be careful, ya know?”

“Of course.”

Eddie paused to look at you, his face painted with adoration and concern. “You sure you’re still okay with this?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yeah, yes.”

Eddie looked angelic. Flushed with desire, his hair slightly mussed, lips reddened from kissing, his boxers tented by his arousal. He walked around the bed to stand at the end, and he gently pulled your underwear off, leaving you fully exposed for the first time. You had to fight to resist the urge to curl into yourself protectively. You weren’t the only naked one for long, however, as Eddie pushed his boxers down, and you were able to see all of him for the first time.

He was beautiful. He was perfect.

He deftly rolled the rubber along his length before he laid down next to you, and let his fingers return to your heat. He leaned down and kissed your neck while he worked you open, this time with two fingers. He slid them inside as he kissed your lips and licked into your mouth, and then he gently climbed on top, allowing you to rest your calves around his hips.

You felt his tip prod your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he breathed into your ear.

“Yes,” you said, and he captured your earlobe with his teeth as he slowly started to push in.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried softly. It felt like white fire had ignited where you were joined and traveled up your body, settling behind your eyes, and a kaleidoscope of sparks clouded your vision. You squeezed your eyes shut and ground your teeth together as you moaned through the sensation. It hurt, but it was a sort of pain you’d never felt before.

“God, babe,” Eddie gasped as another shallow, gentle thrust pulled him deeper. “This okay?”

It wasn’t okay exactly, it stung like hell, but it was okay because this was Eddie, and there was nobody else on the planet you were willing to experience this with.

“Uhhuh, yeah,” you panted. “I’m okay.”

Eddie sat back on his heels and grasped your thighs with his hands, pulling you flush against him and seating himself fully inside of you. His eyes met yours and he smiled at you adoringly as he began to move.

You moaned in sweet agony as each thrust ignited new fires within you, but before you realized what was happening, the pain began to give way to intense pleasure. Your gasps of pain grew to cries of ecstasy, and Eddie could feel you yield to him, could feel the resistance temper, and he delighted in watching the change come over you. White fire was replaced by pure bliss.

He lifted your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, and picked up his pace.

Eddie hugged your legs to his chest as he pumped, every thrust hitting deep, the mingled gasps and cries of your lovemaking growing in volume and timbre. You reached out a hand to touch his chest, but he was too far away. Eddie noticed this, and he released your legs to lean forward, bracing himself with his hands on either side of your shoulders, and he kissed you. It was damn hot, the passion of it all, making out so intensely that your teeth clattered together as he fucked you, all of your senses heightened and electrified.

You scratched at his back as your felt your climax building, causing his own pace to falter. Your cries of delight as you came caused his own orgasm to crash into him suddenly, and you both moaned as you rode it out together.

And then all was still.

You breathed together as you came down from the intense sensations you had just experienced, and you could feel Eddie’s heart beating in its cage, his chest pressed against yours. He could feel yours too.

After a moment, he got up, discarded the used condom, and slipped on his boxers, smiling down at your prone, naked body as he did so. “Was that okay? It didn’t hurt too much?”

You thought for a second. “It did hurt at first, that probably can’t be helped. But after a little while, it felt really good. Was I– was I any good?”

Eddie beamed. “Oh babe. You don’t have to ever worry about that. It was incredible.” He headed to the bathroom, and returned shortly with a damp washcloth. He sat beside you and gently tended to your sore, sensitive area. The cool terrycloth was soothing, and he peppered your face with kisses, making you giggle. He tossed the washcloth aside and laid down with you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

“Do you want to stay here with me? You can, if you want,” Eddie murmured into your hair. He sounded sleepy.

“Eddie, I want to be wherever you are,” you replied. You were feeling quite drowsy yourself.

“I don’t want the Wheelers to think I kidnapped you,” he said with a small chuckle.

“They know where I am, and we’re all adults, so I’m staying put.”

Eddie grinned. You had no way of knowing what was happening in his heart, but he wished he could transfer part of his joy to you, so you could feel even a fraction of his elation.

Eddie had no way of knowing that you were feeling exactly the same way. He also had no way of knowing that you were planning to transfer to Indiana State in the fall. In time, you would share your hearts fully with each other, but for the moment, you enjoyed just laying in his arms, and drifting off into blissful slumber.

Together. ♥

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MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #my writing

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💕Early Birds🦃

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: fluff, long fic, soft!taine, holiday vibes

With a slight twinge in your bent wrist, you woke smooshed between the solid wall of your man and the couch. It was easy to get your arms resettled and you sighed at the feeling of being held. When had the two of you fallen asleep? What time was it?

Hell, it didn’t even matter…

Your granny would have been sick if she saw how you gorged and lazed about, all up under and over a man. Truth was that this may have been the best holiday you had in a long time. No walking on eggshells, no constantly serving the ungrateful and spiteful.

This Thanksgiving was all about what you wanted to do in your house. If you wanted to invite your boo over the night before to bring in the festivities, you could. The house was fragrant with the smell of the season–sugar, spice, and Pine-Sol.

Carefully sitting up, you gave a big stretch and in doing so roused your couch-mate,

“G’morning to you…”

“C’mere…let me tell you something.”

“Nope, that’s a trap…” You tried to wriggle away but Fontaine brought you closer, rolling onto his back and arranging your afghan in the process. You managed to find Fontaine’s phone wedged between you and you checked the time, 5:45am. Happy Turkey Day! The phone was tossed back into the couch-nest as you laid your head onto his chest.

Fontaine massaged the back of your head, fingers deep in your new growth, “The food is put up, we don’t need to get up right now. Do we?"

“Maybe I was going to get whipped cream, huh?”

“How when we used it up all last night for the milkshakes?”

“Urhm…maybe I was gonna make some! Smarty…”

Fontaine snorted and slipped his hands down to cup your bottom, which was a very good counter argument to getting up. You swore he was stuffed with lavender or something with the way his touch could sooth you right back into dozing.

The night before replayed across your mind.

With the main events either cooling off on the counter or resting in the fridge, the two of you saved the desserts for last. You threw a few cookies into the oven and Fontaine surprised you by taking the lead on making an apple pie. It was your favorite to make thus far as Fontaine insisted on kissing you in between bites for a ‘proper perspective’ on what the eater was enjoying.

The TV played on mute when the stereo was on, the two of you working around each other in the kitchen to prepare dish after dish. You both agreed that Thanksgiving really started the day before, the holiday should be spent getting full and laughing at old reruns.

You shared your preferences of sweet potatoes vs candied yams. Fontaine showed you how to open a pop can without its tab. You told him of the importance of having dinner for breakfast and he agreed.

Fontaine told you about his holidays before his little brother’s passing. You described the last holiday that made you decide to never come home for the holidays. You could hear the loneliness in his voice as he avoided the subject of his mother, only insisting he usually preferred to be alone on days like these.

It was something you could relate to, knowing more than enough people but still feeling so singular. It was a feeling that you steered away from, instead focusing on the friends who texted you well wishes and promises to link up soon.

You also focused on how well your spare apron fit Fontaine. You couldn't take your eyes off him as he accompanied you, showing no signs of slowing down or getting tired of your constant ideas of what else to put into the stove.

Kissing in the kitchen, Fontaine lit by the bronze-blue sky peeking from the window felt like a gift and you kept the feel of it beneath your heart for rainy days. You could imagine every holiday going on like this, loitering the kitchen snacking and waiting for more food to get done before eating again.

The couch became home base as you both were suddenly too awake for bed but not to be sitting up at the dining table. You grabbed some Uno cards and Fontaine found your rolling tray, both of you bringing food from the kitchen to spread across the low table. Fontaine was yours, the two of you playing and smoking until you fell asleep.

Presently, you opened your mouth but your stomach spoke for you. It murmured rudely enough that Fontaine noticed and laughed as he released you.

“Alright, little chipmunk. I’ll give you what you want.” Fontaine sat up and you did as well, stretching high to the ceiling. Fontaine did the same with a groan, teasing you with a peak of skin when his shirt rode up.

The morning made him very soft, Sleepy ‘Taine was something else. You liked how he looked wearing your afghan when heating up your plates and you liked the smell of your soap on Fontaine’s warm skin when he came from the shower.

You had everything set up for the two of you. Two dinner trays pushed together with your plates coupled with the left over treats from the night before provided the perfect spread.

Fontaine settled close to you, pulling the blanket over both your laps. You broke open the 2-liter to pour cold juice into cups for each of you. You don’t know why but your stomach filled with butterflies when Fontaine turned to give you a little smile as he found the remote.

“Ready?” he asked. You thought of the hours ahead do you, filled with nothing but this.

“Oh, for sure..."

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✨Ending notes:✨ I'm soooo sorry it took so long @mcondance! It's mainly vibes but I hope that you enjoy it! Thank you all for reading 💕✨💖✨🤸🏾‍♀️💜

��Taglist💕: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful

@8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile

@ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk @hunnishive

@notapradagurl7@mcondance @harmshake

@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert @blowmymbackout @kindofanenigma

#fontaine x black reader #fontaine x reader #x black reader #fontaine x black!fem!reader #fontaine x blackfemreader #john boyega #fontaine #x blackfemreader #they cloned tyrone #john boyega fic #submission fic

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itscaramelia · 3 months ago

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[ 1 ] before i love you na, na, na i'm gonna leave you na, na, na before i'm someone you leave behind i'll break your heart so you don't break mine Kieran x MC ; Kieran learns of love and heartbreak in a week, and swears he never will again. words: 2209

(rewrite of the Indigo Disk DLC from Kieran's POV, originally written before it came out but now includes scenes from the DLC aprox. 2 years has passed between DLCs) part of takeaway series / cross-posted on AO3

Some people call it obsessive, but Kieran’s always been a little too much for most.

It used to be for Ogerpon and her stories. He knew every word by heart, recited it like a pledge to strength and bravery and courage every night with the hopes that he’ll internalise enough of it and wake up the next morning a new person. It was his routine for as long as he remembered, for a good fifteen years of his life, he did the same thing every night.

And then she came, with her aviators and shining leather shoes and matching bag, hair pinned and tied back into a deceivingly sweet, innocent style that he couldn’t help but stare at. She was so different from what he knew, so out of place in small homely Kitakami, yet she ran around like she lived there her entire life. She looked like one of the Unovan girls back at Blueberry Academy, surrounded by their gaggle of friends and always telling one exaggerated story or another about someone in their class, who only looked at him with disgust and mockery and actively avoided him.

The exact sort of person he wanted to avoid back home.

But she… wasn’t like that. At all. She made sure to smile with everyone she was talking to, her voice was soft and every sentence was sung to the melody of the Starly around the island. She laughed so easily, and for once, he didn’t feel like he was being mocked when someone laughed around him. She put her all into each thing she did, even small things like posing for a picture, and she listened to all his ramblings and he had never felt so acknowledged by someone.

Violetta .

It was a little unnerving, especially when her sunglasses hid her eyes so well, how quickly he found himself comfortable around her. And then she called him her friend so enthusiastically, with a wide smile and soft laughter, and his heart skipped a beat.

He thinks she would love Wisteria Pond, would probably float amongst the trees like its rightful spirit guardian, hair and eyes blending into the flowers. Maybe he could ask for a few more days in Kitakami, just to show her around more. There’s six wonders after all.

Maybe after the festival, he’d be able to choke up enough courage to ask her out.

She fit perfectly into an old jinbei and his grandma tied her hair into a semi-traditional side ponytail. When she took off her sunglasses, he swore not even their sunsets could match how vivid the purple in her eyes were. He was almost glad they couldn’t find a mask for her, her eyes shouldn’t have been hidden for so long. And they were just as expressive as her, in the way they caught the light and reflected differently with every emotion.

He liked to pretend the festival was an almost-date. Their fingers brushed when he handed her a candy apple, and maybe he saw a hint of a blush on her face when she took it. And then they walked back together, and all she had to tell him was that she and Carmine weren’t laughing at him back there, that she just wanted to enjoy the stars when Carmine came and she loved Kitakami and spending time with him, and he believed her and apologised and trusted her entirely.

Then she lied again.

And every time she looked at him afterwards, it was with furrowed brows and a smile that never quite reached her eyes, and it hurt more than when he was the school outcast. Suddenly, he was back to being the outsider looking in as his sister took all of Violetta’s time away, taking the one person he thought he had away from him, and monopolising her attention and it… it was burning him up. And the only way he ever knew to get rid of this burning was by winning battles back in Blueberry Academy, and he directed it all towards Violetta because she was supposed to be his during their time in Kitakami, not his sister’s, and she lied to him and still had that stupid smile on her face and he couldn’t wait to wipe it off.

But it was Violetta, and she was beautiful. And sweet. And soft.

And strong.

Of course she was strong, he’s known that since their first meeting after she beat both him and Carmine without breaking a sweat, but he was stronger than then.

And so was she.

She beat him every time, and he saw the pity in her eyes grow every time and the burning in him only got stronger. Right in front of Ogerpon, she beat him without breaking a sweat again and he knew he didn’t stand a chance. He watched her when she took down Ogerpon and her masks, saw Ogerpon run up to her and cling to her legs and knew he lost the last hope of strength he had clung onto for so long.

It was all her fault.

It was all Violetta’s fault.

If she hadn’t come on that stupid field trip with her school, they wouldn’t have met. She would have never known about Ogerpon, nor of him, and he could have kept his stories and beliefs to himself and maybe one day he would’ve been strong enough to have Ogerpon accept him.

If she hadn’t come on that stupid field trip, he wouldn’t have known she existed and he could’ve lived the rest of his life not knowing how badly it hurt to have been betrayed by someone you thought was unapologetically open and honest; he wouldn’t have known how it felt to have someone call him a friend without regrets.

If she hadn’t come on that stupid field trip, he could have lived the rest of his life not knowing what heartbreak felt like.

Instead, he tasted it thrice.

It’s bitter, and uncomfortable to swallow, and it makes him want to throw that candy apple up. It’s sour, makes his whole body clench up and his eyes squeeze shut in the hopes that he’ll forget but it’s always the same shade of purple he sees behind his eyelids.

She never put her sunglasses back on after the festival, even after changing back to her Uva Academy uniform and redoing her hair back into its intricate twists and braids.

He wishes she had.

He spends the better part of the next two years training. Everyone else would say he’s spent every second training.

Carmine had let him simmer in his ‘teenage angst’, and what she assumed, grief Ogerpon’s leaving of Kitakami before going back to how she was a month later. Kieran fell into the same rhythm she’d set, but found he wasn’t as affected by it anymore with something else constantly chewing at his mind.

“Kiki, are you okay?” She had pulled him off the field to ask one day. He’s not too sure why, he was winning every battle as expected of him and he figured Carmine would chalk everything else up to ‘teenage angst’ as she always did.

“Yeah? Everything’s fine.” He shrugs her hand off.

“Are you sure,” she crosses her arms, and frowns like she always does when she’s annoyed at him, “You’ve been more aggressive in your battles recently.”

“Why do you care? You never care.” He turns to walk away, when Carmine grabs his wrist and pulls him back.

“Is that how you’re going to talk back to me!?”

“You only care when other people talk anyways!” He snatches his arm away from her and stomps off.

“Kiki, wait! I have something to tell you!”

“Tell me later!” He starts taking strides, speeds up to get further away from Carmine. He hears her steps briefly, hears her call out his full name this time, and only walks faster.

When he gets back to his room, he thinks maybe he was too hasty. Maybe Carmine had something important to tell him, maybe she wasn’t just going to insult him again and give him useless tips and tell him to be nicer to his classmates.

Either way, I’ll just ask tomorrow.

Turns out, the news Carmine wanted to give him was that they were hosting exchange students.

From Paldea.

And Kieran would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat.

There’s endless chatter among his classmates, as their teacher introduces the soon-to-be arriving students through Powerpoint slides, accompanied by pictures and all. He keeps his attention away enough to not take in any of the names and their accomplishments back in Paldea, as his fingers tangle in his hair and his eyes stare out the window.

He finds it hard to care at all, until her name comes up and he can’t help his eyes snapping to her picture.

It looks like a magazine cover, with her hair whipping around her, eyes steely towards the camera, brows lowered and lips parted slightly to show clenched teeth. Her Ceruledge stands in front of her, blades spread as if for protection, as if saying whoever had to get past it first before getting to her.

The class hushes as their teacher talks about her accomplishments, but Kieran couldn’t tear his attention away from her, and how she never looked at him like that. She always looked at him with pity, sadness, never as an opponent.

She never saw him as an equal, she always saw him as weak.

It doesn’t anger him as much as he thought it would, he supposes maybe he’s always known they weren’t equals, but it feeds into that burning that he’s had since leaving Kitakami. It feeds into his need to get stronger, to grow faster and be better.

And he knows he’ll be so much better.

He only tears his eyes away from the screen when his teacher goes back to talking about something related to battling.

He can’t escape people talking about their soon-to-be exchange students, people go up to him at lunch just to ask what she was like when they first met in Kitakami and he finds he gets progressively more aggressive at shaking them off with every longing question and starstruck statement. He pushes people away with a twitching eye, sharply jerks hands off when they’re placed on his shoulder, and eventually people go back to avoiding him.

His sister revels in the attention, and brags about every battle as if she wasn’t also soundly beaten back in Kitakami. He makes sounds of vague agreement through his chewing whenever prompted, staring off and out a window.

“Kieran, heard you know the Paldean newbies?”

Drayton almost jumps him when he escapes to the library at the end of the day, slinging an arm around his shoulders to stop him. The rest of the league follow behind him, Crispin bouncing up in front of Kieran with stars in his eyes while Lacey and Amarys stroll behind.

“Do you really? What are they like? Are they nice? Do you think they’ll like my food?” Crispin bounces around Drayton and Kieran, while Kieran shakes off Drayton’s arm and sighs.

“I don’t-”

“Come on, don’t lie! They’re just some questions.”

Kieran is ready to bolt before Drayton slings an arm around his again, while Crispin grabs onto his hand.

“Yeah Kieran! Tell us about them.”

“One of them’s quite pretty, no?” Drayton smirks next to him, and Kieran manages to shake his arm off again before Drayton says, “The purple one. Can’t wait to meet her.”

Kieran tenses, and Drayton snickers next to him. His hands start clenching and unclenching next to him, and his Yanmega shakes in its Pokeball in Kieran’s pocket. It wasn’t a lie, and Kieran wasn’t blind but the way Drayton complimented her, the way he said it so easily without having met her before, made him grind his teeth together.

“Come on guys, let’s stop teasing him already.” Lacey steps up behind Crispin, placing a hand on both of the league members’ shoulders. She offers Kieran a soft, pitying smile and he makes sure to glare at her before he turns away.

“Aren’t you curious, Lacey? Kieran’s the only one who knows them.”

“Kieran doesn’t want to talk about it, we shouldn’t force him.”

“I must admit, I’m quite curious as well.”

“Amarys! Not you too.”

He hears Lacey sigh loudly, and takes a glance at her to see her rubbing her temples with furrowed brows and a frown. She looks up at him, and he can tell she’s surprised when she blinks rapidly before offering another sorry smile. He scowls as a reply, before she turns to frown at Drayton.

“We can always ask Carmine later. Kieran doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“But he’s right here,” Drayton drawls, and grabs his wrist before he can walk off, “Kieran, just tell us one thing about them. Anything you can spare.”

He doesn’t want to, and even with all the words he could use to describe her, there’s really only one thing that comes to mind.

“Don’t trust her.”

It confuses Drayton enough for him to rip his wrist away from his grip, and he strides away, leaving the league members to their confusion.

next chapter ->

#pokemon #kieran x mc #Dipplinshipping #(does this count? idk ;-;)#kieran pokemon #pokemon kieran #rival kieran #champion kieran #pokemon scarvi #pokemon sv #series: takeaway

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sleepy-wyvern · 2 years ago

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Eddie x Reader Comforting Evening

Summary: Eddie tries to make you feel better coming home from a bad day

Closing the apartment door behind you, you let out a ginormous sigh, dropping your bags and coat to the floor. You’re stressed today, completely done with the entire world. There’s only one thing holding you down to Earth, Eddie. But you haven't heard from him on your cell in the last hour when you told him today sucked, which is odd as he usually gets back quickly on his old flip phone he refuses to trade in.

As you step further into the apartment you’re greeted by the delicious smell of home cooked pasta sauce, your mouth already watering.

“Eddie?” you say curiously.

“-Ah fuck” he grunts from the kitchen, there’s the sound of metal on metal and the fire alarm beeps off.

You can’t help but laugh as you enter the kitchen, opening the window to let the smoke out. Eddie reaches up to the fire alarm, jumping frantically batting at it with a dish towel, stretching his torso out the way you admire.

Sitting upon the stove is some half burnt garlic bread. Obviously he hasn’t had much experience in cooking beyond dinosaur nuggets, but you don't mind.

“You’re cooking?” you say in disbelief.

“Yeah, uh, tried to, I figured how hard could spaghetti be” he looks at his garlic bread disappointed shaking his head but then back at you with his large, wholesome chocolate eyes like someone who failed a math test.

“The sauce is still good, I wanted to make something for you because you told me you were having a bad day…” he puts his hand behind his head, scratching it nervously with a small pout on his lips thinking he failed his mission.

“Its perfect” you smile leaning forward giving him a large hug. Surprised for a moment, he hugs you back with the strong grasp of comfort you’ll never get tired of. Letting yourself fall into his arms, taking your weight is the best feeling all day for both of you. You’re still taking in the hug, enjoying the weight off your chest when the sound of the pasta water bubbling interrupts you.

“Shit” he whispers, leaning over he turns the heat down, stirring the noodles with one hand, still holding you with the other refusing to let go.

“Well there’s still some of your favorite snacks on the table… the candy and chocolate you like, of course wine…” he trails off in that smooth buttery voice that sweeps you away. You nuzzle into his neck, admiring how his adams apple moves over each word. “I hope that kinda helps today, maybe we could watch a movie and take a bath…?”

He rocks you slightly still holding you “that sounds wonderful” you look up at him and share a blissful smile. You wrap your arms around his head, pulling him down for a loving kiss on his soft lips, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #more hand drawings later maybe?#comfort fic #self care yourself fucker its what Eddie would want #fan fiction #comforting evening em 1

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everythingcanadian · 1 year ago

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Fall Flavourings

Pairing: John Watson/Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade (Sherlock BBC)

Rating: T Suggested themes.

No Warnings.

Summary:

Day 3 of promptober: Experiment John is uneasy when Sherlock has nothing to occupy him. He needn't have worried.

AO3 Portal

The bubbling of beakers over bunsen burners didn’t bother John anymore. What did bother him was the lack of anything on the kitchen counter. Usually there was an experiment going on at all times within the flat, and to see no evidence of one put John on edge. And coming from the clinic, this was the last thing he wanted on a Thursday evening.

It was one thing to not see the actual experiment itself, but another entirely to not have one going on at all. John screwed his mouth up in silence, hoping to hear maybe something coming from somewhere. But nothing made a peep. It unnerved him. As if walking into some other dimension.

He nearly jumped when the door downstairs flew open and the sounds of his lovers could be heard as they came through. Paper grocery bags were rustling along with the heavy footfalls that came up the seventeen steps.

“John? Are you home, love?” Greg’s voice filled the space and soon his smile lit it up as he came up and saw John in the doorway to the flat. His arms were filled with brown paper bags, and another plastic one swung from his left wrist. That would be their takeaway. And John knew they had already done the shopping a couple days ago.

He took a deep breath and watched in mild horror as Sherlock also came into view on the landing, equally laden with paper bags. Before he could even open his mouth to comment Sherlock was telling him.

“I want to see what all the fuss is regarding pumpkin and apple flavours.” As if it explained everything. “Naturally this is my new experiment. I’ve used sight and smell and sound. We’ve gone through touch and sensation quite thoroughly together. Now I want to use my taste.” Sherlock put his bags onto the cleaned up and bare kitchen countertop. “Aside from the obvious tastes in our sex lives, I don’t believe any of us have tried flavoured lubricants. Not that I would want to. Ours is sufficient. Yet testing is part of the fun.”

“I hope not all of this is just lube.” John could feel the tension in his neck rise. Greg stepped past him and into the kitchen as well, managing to push the bags onto the now full counter and gently put their dinner down in all its plastic glory onto the little space left.

“Oh- no. Only five bottles. Fall flavours as advertised. The rest-”

Greg cut him off, much to Sherlock’s annoyance. “Pies, tarts, ice cream, candy, coffee cream, pasta, pasta sauce, and a bit more. A variety of food for a varied pallet.” He tried to sound annoyed, but John caught the smile that shone through. “He dragged me through almost every aisle.”

“And you enjoyed every moment watching me question the sanity of the population. Candy Corn Marshmallows, John. How disgusting. Yet I must agonize to get results.” Sherlock’s nose scrunched up, and Greg couldn’t help but pull the taller man in and lightly press a warm kiss to the cold and red tip. Sherlock crossed his eyes to look at Greg, only to chase him and press a soft kiss to his lips. “However. This time preparing for it was a sight better than usual.”

“I should hope so.” Greg took another kiss. “You still taste like that latte. You might not like it, but I do.”

“Only because I’ve ingested it.”

“Yes.” was the simple answer Greg gave, slowly unwinding Sherlock’s scarf for him, pushing the belstaff off his shoulders and coming around to take it off of their younger lover.

Greg quickly hung their coats and Sherlock’s scarf, moving to John to take his thick jacket and to greet him. “Hello, love. Good day?” He stole a kiss from John as well, humming softly into it. John had come to find that Greg enjoyed intimacy and close proximity to those he loved. John gave up another gentle kiss.

“Long but thankfully it was quiet. Unlike what it sounds like for you both?”

Sherlock hummed. “Not difficult, just busy.”

“Multiple thefts. Different districts. Same group of hooligans. Chased half of them over the city. The other half gave up easily when they saw this git.”

Another deep hum as slowly, the things in the bags were put into the fridge or cupboards. “My experiment can wait until tomorrow. Tonight? Dinner, a predictable show, and then love making?”

“You can start your experimenting tonight, bring the lube to bed and we can try it out.” John smiled, shaking his head as he locked their door and followed his lovers in their dance of dishing themselves out takeaway and then promptly sitting close together and watching shit tv.

“Hmm, I like the way your mind works, Watson.” Sherlock’s words gave a shiver down John’s spine.

“He got us both slices of caramel and walnut cheesecake for dessert.” Greg whispered into his ear.

John grinned to himself. He could stand a taste test disaster as long as his lover buttered him up for it.

#johnlock #johnstrade #sherstrade #johnlockstrade #bbc sherlock #fic #My fic #promptober #promptober 2023

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bonkers-4-hatter · 2 years ago

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Howl X Reader- Cinnamon Spice

You enjoyed baking for as long as you could remember. It was one of the things that really relaxed you and put you in a good mood when you’re feeling irritated. You especially enjoyed baking during the Holidays and All Hallows Eve was one of those Holidays you celebrated and baked for.

Everything from candy apples, brownies, cakes and your husband’s favorite - cookies. That’s how you both met, you worked at a bakery and you were making your special cinnamon spice cookies, something the townspeople lined up for and the smell of the cookies as they baked would make its way out to the streets, the same smell that drew the great Howl straight to you.

He was charming toward you of course, but also polite and interested in not only you, but to your thoughts, opinions and dreams. Soon after, you both started dating and getting to know each other over the course of a year and honestly the rest was history. You moved into the moving castle with him as he did his work and you started your own baking business from the comfort of your home, each city got to taste your creations and they were popular everywhere, something you always wanted.

“So, that’s why there’s a line forming outside our house,” Turning away from the next batch of cookies you were preparing, there stood your husband with a gleaming smile on his face. “I thought they were suitors after my sweetheart's heart.” Sending you a wink, he made his way around the kitchen island and wrapped his arms around you from the back. His hands skimmed along the softness of your form, he always loved how soft and plump you were, he thought it was adorable on you.

“Oh shush Howl, you know you’re the only one for me.” His deep laugh rumbled in his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “That’s always music to my ears, love.” Unwrapping his arms from your form, he grabbed an extra apron and tied it around his waist. “Now, what do you need help with (Y/N), the faster we get those delicious cookies of yours out the door, the faster I get to have you all to myself.”

Shaking your head, you tilted your head toward the oven that just dinged. “Well, if you could get those out to cool, that should cover the line that’s outside and I can close up for the day and this batch I’m making can be for us.”

Howl grabbed the glove to get the batches from the oven and instead of putting them on the cooling rack, he did a spell to instantly cool them down and the boxes were already made and magically appeared neatly in the box. Carrying the full boxes over to the door, he handed them out to those waiting for the cinnamon spice cookies. After the last one thanked Howl for the box, Howl closed the door and made his way back toward you. You were still making the cookie dough. “You know I meant without magic, right?” He waved you off as he did another wave of his hand and the dough was split into small circles and placed on the still hot sheet and was already in the oven before you could say anything else.

“I couldn’t help myself (Y/N), I was too impatient to wait, I missed you.” Turning you around, Howl cupped your soft cheeks and kissed you. He licked your bottom lip asking for entrance which you granted and before you knew it, you were up on the counter, his hands roaming your plump body, caressing your sides as the kiss got deeper, your breathing becoming ragged as your body started to heat up.

Howl pulled away for a moment to lick his lips, the taste of cinnamon lingering on his tongue as his gaze stopped upon your face, skin flushed and lips a bit bruised already. He couldn’t wait to taste even more of you, next to your famous cinnamon spice cookies, you were his favorite treat.

#q #queue #31 fics of halloween #halloween fic #xreader #reader insert #chubby reader insert #chubby reader #chubby reader implied #howl's moving castle #howl x reader #Howl Pendragon #howl's moving castle x reader

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wearywinchester · 4 years ago

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Stay

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Getting out of bed in the morning is harder than it looks when you’re sharing a bed with Dean Winchester.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of injury, fluff, kissing

The alarm had already gone off just five minutes earlier, promptly shut off after a few haphazard pats around the old nightstand, the button blindly pressed with a soft groan. Through squinted eyes it read 5:05 in blaring red numbers, proving to be too harsh on your eyes after a glance.

The room was starting to lighten up a bit as dawn approached more quickly than you’d like it to, birds chirping through the window you’d cracked the night before to let the breeze in. That and the fan hadn’t done very much to combat the summer heat and Bobby didn’t have the best air conditioning. The small bedroom was quiet and comfortable, filled with old memorabilia that’d since gathered a layer of dust over the things that hadn’t been touched since you’d taken up residence there just two days prior. It was the room Dean used whenever he’d come to stay there.

There were a variety of odds and ends; some postcards that John had sent on a rare occasion, a rolled up poster Dean had stuffed in the corner, one he knew exactly what it’d been of the moment he laid eyes on it. Judging by his smile and the way he scratched his neck, you decided against unraveling the crinkled old thing in favor of an eye roll and a swat to his shoulder with it. You didn’t see the fondness in his smile once you turned around, eyes on you as he laughed softly.

There was a heavily worn baseball mitt and an equally tattered baseball within it sat atop the lone dresser, a bat to go along with it propped against the wall. That was one thing Dean had mentioned he wanted to get some use out of before the two of you headed back home. He claims he was the reigning champ of the sport, having a knack for hitting a number of home runs but never quite as good as you. In fact, you made a mental note to remind him of such should the moment arise to bring it up. Especially the time he’d gotten so distracted gazing at you that he’d forgotten to catch the ball and get you out, earning himself a swift smack to the back of his head from Sam.

He claims he let you win, but you knew for a fact that wasn’t true.

A handful of comic books had taken up space on a small bookshelf you remember Bobby making. It wasn’t quite level and the paint had since begun to chip away, but it was just as it’s always been and it was homemade and that was more important than the slanted top shelf and the nail that stuck out of the side. A few random knick knacks lay strewn about them too, some you remember giving him and some he’d brought home from a hunt here and there as a kid. It put the softest of smiles on your face at the very thought of it.

Perhaps the most noticeable part of the room at that moment was the bed. The one that you’d found a couple of old magazines of Dean’s under the old mattress, a few pages dog-eared along with a well expired candy bar that had to be melted within its wrapper. With the years of summer heat it’s gotten, it just had to be. It was all stuffed under the mattress of the bed that was nearly too small to fit two people. You were quite sure Dean had outgrown it even in his teens, and now at the ripe age of twenty-eight, surely he’d grown just a few inches taller.

His feet hung off the foot of the bed at any given moment, but the more he’d tangled up with you in a mess of limbs that fact didn’t seem to matter as much. You’d been pressed to his side the large majority of the night despite the heat in the room, his arm heavy over your hip and his other arm outstretched beneath the two stacked pillows you’d shared. The twin sized bed hadn’t been ideal for a good night’s sleep, not really, but you’re convinced that you could have a king sized bed and he’d still sleep just as close.

It’d been ten minutes now since the alarm had sounded, the room just a small bit brighter than it had been minutes ago. The breeze picked up a little bit too, puffing the old ruffled curtains out with every gust. The warmth wasn’t uncomfortable anymore; the air sweeping over your skin paired with the heat radiating from Dean seemed to be the perfect combination, one that made it all the more difficult to think about leaving that bed.

Dean hadn’t stirred just yet, too tired from the hunt you’d finished the evening before otherwise he just might’ve been up at the sound of the clock. It hadn’t been the easiest salt and burn you’ve ever done as a hunter, but it wasn’t quite the worst either. The spirit really had it out for him, having tossed the older Winchester around with only so much as a twitch of her hand. Her fun and games were obvious when you saw the purple and blue blossom across his cheek, at the redder than red cut that had curved across the bridge of his nose with one to match on his forehead.

None of that seemed to bother him in that moment as he slept, hair turned porcupine now that he’s got a bed head. His lips parted just enough for his snores to escape, the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin. As the softness of the light swept over him it gave way to each and every freckle that smattered across lightly flushed cheeks and the bridge of his nose, ones that speckled lightly on his ears and mingled within the beginnings of his stubble. Freckles that you’ve counted at least a million times over in the mornings just like this.

The softest of smiles tugged at the very corners of your mouth as you looked at him with tired eyes, fingers playing absentmindedly with the loose string you’d found on his t-shirt. Sometime between now and then he’d pulled you all the more closer when he felt you’d strayed too far, a quiet laugh huffing through your nose at the thought. It gave you ample opportunity to admire him just a little more. At the way his nostrils flare slightly when he snores and the way his lips puff out in turn, traces of last night’s pie still on the corner of his mouth.

Your smile widened at that, blinking slowly as you stretched in his arms. Your gaze falls on him once more when you muster up the energy to stay awake, settling on the soft lines framing the very corners of his eyes from the smile you know and love, said lines deepening ever so slightly to accompany the grin appearing on his face.

“I can feel you staring, you know,” he mumbles, sleepy and low as his lopsided smile quirks up just a bit more.

“No I’m not,” you defend, a scoff leaving your lips.

It was then that he peeked an eye open, a tired laugh immediate before he closed his eyes again if only for a second. “Yeah you are.”

An argument doesn’t make it out of your mouth at the tightening of his grip and the way his laughter brushes across your skin, too delighted to even try.

In a matter of moments the coolness of his ring presses gently to your cheek, nose bumping your own as his thumb swipes over your skin. His hand stays there for a little bit more, calloused and warm as he opens his eyes just enough to look at you with a smile all too telling that he’d had something on his mind, something light and jesting. His hand drops a little lower to rest on your jaw, his laughter continuing.

“You always were a terrible liar,” he murmurs, quieting your counter when his lips brush over yours.

It was soft and sweet, languid as he kissed you once, twice, three times over. Your frown at his words was quickly dissolved in favor of the beginnings of a smile, a laugh bubbling its way to the surface when his lips travel from yours to the corner of your mouth, gentle as they press to your cheek and across your jaw. They were chaste as he kissed just under your ear, his breath blowing ever so lightly doing just enough to make you squirm away from him when it tickled. He knew that all too well.

His laugh was telling of that very fact.

“You were supposed to be up fifteen minutes ago, De,” you sigh, shoving his hand away.

He really should have been. You’d heard Bobby’s commotion downstairs, could smell the coffee he’d brewed too. It was tradition; every time you’d crashed at his place for a hunt, Dean had to give him a hand on fixing up some of the cars he’s got to work on. It was a deal they’d made just under five years ago, one Dean can never talk his way out of. Not with Bobby Singer.

“Yeah, well, I think Bobby can hold out five more minutes. Them cars aren’t goin’ anywhere,” he teases, smile lazy as he tugs up the blankets.

The green in his eyes nearly twinkled in mischief as his tongue swiped over his lips, lips that press to your own once more as his hum rumbles against your mouth. Any and every argument you may have had for his more than logical reasoning had since left your mind then, completely vanishing when he’d kissed the tip of your nose.

“You keep sayin’ that and I’m convinced Bobby’s gonna do something about it one of these times,” you sigh, brushing the tips of your fingers over his cheek softly. He relaxes under your touch, his chuckle evident.

“He’s gonna have to go through you first,” he jests, tugging you into his chest.

“Oh whatever, Winchester,” you grin, settling into his hold without much of a fight. You were much more tired than you’d admit, and he wasn’t making matters any better.

“Stay,” he mumbles, nose to nose with you. “Five more minutes?”

You sigh softly, sharing a grin in the close proximity.

“Five more minutes.”

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #supernatural

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komotionlessqueenmm · 3 years ago

Text

Swimming Lessons.

(1-1)

Short story # 9

2,350 - Words

Fandom - Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing - John Marston X Reader

Summary - Based entirely on Imagine # 662, which reads. imagine taking it upon yourself to teach John how to swim.

Warnings - Light smut, its just a handjob. (Cause I'm a horny bitch, especially when it come to Mr. John Marston.)

----

Looking to her left (Y/n) began snickering quietly when she noticed John snacking away on candy. "What?" John cocked a confused brow at her, still munching away. "You and your candy." (Y/n) shook her head with a grin. "What, I like 'em." John frowned, hesitating his chewing. "Oh nothing, I think it's sweet." (Y/n) joked making John roll his eyes playfully. "Ya got any to spare for your favorite girl?" (Y/n) hummed as she rode beside him, batting her lashes. "Oh I don't give Grace candy." John retorted as he pat his horses mane, his words making (Y/n) huff with a frown. "I see how it is." (Y/n) crossed her arms, spurring her horse into a trot. "Now hold on darling." John called out spurring on his own horse. "I was only playin' sugar." John nudged her shoulder, holding out a few pieces of candy. "And here I am, going out of my way to help you. And what do I get in return, the nerve of some people." (Y/n) sassed turning her nose up at his offer, a fit of giggles erupting from her when John practically pulled her onto his lap, hugging her tightly. "I'm sorry darlin'." John whispered into her hair as he nuzzled into her neck. "Oh alright, I forgive you." (Y/n) sighed playfully, adjusting herself back onto her horse, afterwards leaning over to plant a kiss on John's scared cheek. "Here sugar." John hummed as he grasped her hand, pushing a few pieces of candy into the palm of her hand. "Awe thanks honey." (Y/n) cooed making John chuckle at her, smiling contently as they continued their journey.

A few hours had passed and the sun was beginning to set. "We're almost there, but the path isn't the safest to travel at night, we should set up camp then continue in the morning." (Y/n) suggested. "Alright." John agreed with a nod of his head. "Where you wanting to set up?" John asked as they trotted across a bridge. "There's a clearing up ahead, looks like a good a spot as any." (Y/n) pointed to the clearing in the distance. "Sounds like a plan." John agreed as they neared the sight. "Where is it your wanting to go tomorrow?" John asked with curiosity. "Dodds bluff just south of widows Rock, there's an abandoned shack we can set up in." (Y/n) answered his question. "Why there?" John asked with curiosity. "Several reasons, one because the water up there is beautiful, and always a comfortable temperature in the summer, plus we're far away from our friends, so you don't have to worry about them teasing us." (Y/n) explained as they moved from the road to the grass to find the best spot to set up camp. "What exactly are we doing, that they would tease us about?" John eyed his girlfriend wearily. "I'm gonna teach you how to swim finally." (Y/n) stated as she dismounted, her words causing John to freeze up. "Swim?" He muttered in worry. "Yes John, swim." (Y/n) laughed softly as she unpacked her things. "I-I um..." John stammered nervously. "John sweetie, we'll take it slow I promise." (Y/n) assured him as she approached his side, resting a reassuring hand onto his knee. John smiled softly, his heart melting. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me." John whispered softly, his confession making (Y/n) blush under his tender gaze.

"So darling, how long you plannin' on us staying out here?" John asked as they sat up the camp, one tent for them, and the other to keep their supplies dry if it rains in the night. "However long it takes until your able to swim on your own confidently." (Y/n) hummed as she moved on to feed the horses some grain. "That could take awhile." John chuckled nervously. "That's okay, I let Arthur and Dutch know we wouldn't be back for awhile." (Y/n) shrugged casually. "How'd you manage that?" John asked as he finished up the last of the work. "I found a few gold bars while out exploring, and I donated two of them." (Y/n) hummed as she brushed her horse, John joining her to brush his own horse. "How many did you find?" John asked with astonishment, both surprised and impressed that she found any gold bars to begin with. "Four." (Y/n) smiled at him, a certain gleam in her eyes. "And what are you planning on doing with the other two?" John asked with a curious gaze. "Well someone real special has a birthday coming up." (Y/n) mused with a playful grin, making John feel all giddy inside like a little kid. "Darlin' you're just to much sometimes." John shook his head with a smile, making (Y/n) giggle softly. "You love me for it." (Y/n) shrugged, gasping when John hugged her from behind. "I love you for more than that baby girl." John cooed as he nuzzled into her soft hair, inhaling her natural scent.

When morning came around (Y/n) was practically bouncing with excitement, while John sluggishly followed after her. Having broke down camp and packed up, the couple continued their journey. The small road they took seep and narrow in some spots, making John understand why they didn't risk riding on last night. "There's the shack." (Y/n) pointed to the little shanty, a wide smile upon her pretty face. "The water looks kinda fast." John pointed out as they neared the small building. "It's slower upstream." (Y/n) hummed as she dismounted her horse. "If you say so." John murmured skeptically. "Are you sure no one lives here?" He added as he dismounted. "Yeah I've come up here a hundred times, no one's ever here." (Y/n) shrugged while unpacking their supplies. John wasn't convinced however and removed his bolt action rifle from his saddle, approaching the house first. "Let me just check first." John explained when (Y/n) eyed him funny. "Oh alright." She smiled up at him before he turned his attention to the door, which he pushed open slowly with his rifle. Humming with satisfaction John turned back to (Y/n), shouldering his rifle. "You were right, it's abandoned." He walked down the steps of the porch, taking the supplies from (Y/n)'s hands to take inside. "I would say I'm always right, but you've proven me wrong plenty of times." (Y/n) laughed as they continued their work, her words making John chuckle. "Oh you mean like that time you thought you wouldn't like it when I stick my-" (Y/n) threw an apple at him, cutting him off. "Yes John, like then." She sassed with pinkness in her cheeks, making John laugh a hardy laugh. "You walked funny for three days, but not once did you complain." He teased with a grin, making (Y/n) whine as she hid her face in her hands. "Can we please stay on task here?" She groaned between her fingers, making John beam with pride. "Sure thing sugar." He mused into her ear, relishing in the sight of her shuddering from his voice alone.

After everything was dealt with, and the horses tended to (Y/n) led John a little ways upstream. "Are you sure about this?" John asked as they began stripping out of the majority of their clothes. "What of someone sees us?" He added with a nervous glance. "We're far from the main road, and people don't really use this road. We'll be fine, and even if someone sees, it doesn't matter. What we're doing is none of their business." (Y/n) assured her lover, pecking his lips to comfort him. "Hey I want a real kiss." John pouted as he followed after (Y/n), who was now hip deep in water, having gone into the small stream that connects into to river. "Then come get it cowboy." (Y/n) teased as John stood on the back, having an internal debate. Gathering his courage he made up his mind, and began walking into the shallow stream. "The things I do for love." John huffed when he reached (Y/n), his hands instinctively resting on her hips. "I've got you baby." (Y/n) hummed before connecting their lips, the sweet feeling of her lips against his detracting him from his fear of the water. John's grip tightened when she began walking backwards into deeper water, their lips still connected in a passionate kiss. "Wait." John broke the kiss with a strained voice, looking at the water beyond her shoulder. "Hey John look at me." (Y/n) grasped his face between her hands, turning his attention solely to her. "Do you trust me?" She asked as she peered into his dark eyes. "Of course I trust you, I trust you with my life." John proclaimed with a series tone, knowing she'd never hurt him or betray his trust. "Follow me, and stay focused on me, I'll keep you safe." (Y/n) smiled softly, slowly walking back towards the river. John nodded his head, his grasp on her hips still tight as he followed her obediently. His breath came out shaky as he breathed through his mouth, his eyes still locked onto (Y/n)'s. With each careful step they moved deeper and deeper into the water, until the water rest now at chest height. "How you doing John?" (Y/n) asked as she stroked his hair back, smiling at him reassuringly. "I'm alright, just need a moment." He admitted his hands noticeably shaking against her hips. "Take all the time you need baby." (Y/n) cooed as she leaned forward, catching his lips to distract his mind.

When they broke for air John had relaxed quite a bit, now ignoring the sounds of rushing water, he focused solely on the woman before him. "I love you." He murmured softly, so touched that she wanted to take the time to teach him how to swim, something no one else had ever tried. "I love you too John." (Y/n) leaned into his chest, resting her head into the crook of his neck. They stood their in a relaxed tranquil state in the water, allowing John the time he needed to truly relax. "Let's keep going." He suggested softly. "How about we stay here, so you know you can stand up if you begin to panic." (Y/n) countered his suggestion, slowly lowering herself into the cool water until she was on her knees. "Okay." John muttered to himself as he followed suit, slowly lowering himself. "You're doing good." (Y/n) praised when he finally sank down before her, the water now up to his neck. "I'm terrified." John admitted with a shaky voice, wrapping his arms around (Y/n)'s hips now. "Relax sugar, I'm here." (Y/n) hummed as she rubbed his back soothingly, smiling when his back muscles relaxed under her touch. "You know I might just have to reward you for doing so good." (Y/n) mused with a suggestive tone, her words causing John's breath to hitch in his throat. "R-really?" He stammered with surprise, his excitement building in an instant at the lewd thoughts popping into his head. "Yeah." (Y/n) hummed softly, one hand slowly drifting under the water, and down his body. "(Y/n)." John murmured quietly, his cock hardening as her fingers brushed against it. "All for me?" (Y/n) smirked before slipping her hand into his underwear, grasping his manhood by the base, and giving it a gentle squeeze. "All for you." John nodded his head in agreement, his hips thrusting forward, desperate for more friction.

(Y/n) giggled softly as she began stroking his length, rubbing her thumb against the underside of his cock firmly, from time to time. John's mind went hazy with pleasure, his eyes closing as he rest his forehead against (Y/n)'s shoulder. "Just relax baby, I'll take care of you. Make you feel good." (Y/n) cooed and then began peppering his face and neck with kisses. "So good." John praised quietly, unaware of his surroundings anymore. (Y/n) twisted her wrist while brushing her fingers across the tip of John dick, causing a shutter to run down his back. John hissed in pleasure his cock throbbing with need, twitching a little as he neared his end. "Cum for me honey." (Y/n) encouraged picking up her pace, the erratic movements of her arm, made the water slosh around them. "(Y-Y/n)!" John stammered in a moan, ropes of cum spurting from his cock as he came undone for her. "Good job baby." (Y/n) praised her lover, still stroking his cock slowly, working him through his euphoric high. "(Y/n)." John murmured her name, pecking sloppy kisses against her neck. "John my sweet sweet John." She cooed tilting his head up to look into his eyes. "You didn't even notice." She added with a playful smile, her words causing John to take in his surroundings. His heart froze for a moment when he realized they were now much deeper in the river, his feet just barely able to touch the bottom. "See John, swimming ain't so bad." (Y/n) brushed his hair back softly, smiling at him warmly when he noticeably calmed. "Y-yeah I guess you're right." John smiled remaining relaxed when (Y/n) moved back a little, allowing him to float on his own. "It's kinda fun actually." John chuckled as he got the hang of swimming in place. "It is." (Y/n) agreed with pure joy, beyond happy to have taught John Marston how to swim. The couple spent the next three days swimming, and the next four nights making sweet love under the stars, and within the privacy of the little shack. Only leaving when John felt comfortable with swimming. The pair of them worn by the time they got back to camp, Arthur watching them excuse themselves straight to bed with a knowing smile.

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years ago

Text

They Hung Up

Masterlist

Summary: August can always fix your problems, especially when someone is ripping off his princess.

Warnings: fluff, ddlg, daddy kink

A/n: inspired by my chat with ebay this morning. Apparantly ebay will charge buyers import and customs VAT on items that aren't even being imported into the country... or going through customs. And they don't charge this at checkout they only charge it when they take the actually money. When i told the lady thats stealing your taking more then the agreed amount from my bank she hung up on me telling me to 'speak to the tax office'

Taglist: in reblogs.

"No but you cant charge import tax on something that isn't being imported.... No they cant that's illegal look I just want my money beck for the tax-what do you mean no?!... Hello? Hello?" You could have cried you were so angry and upset. You closed locked your phone screen and sniffed shaking your head in frustration.

"Princess what's wrong?" You snapped your head to your daddy, august was scowling. You could see the aggravated look as he took in your tears. Your daddy never liked you wasting them on other people. Your sweet pure tears were only meant to be shed for him! Every droplet was his to pull from you, be it tears of rapturous pleasure or shed from being spanked for being naughty.

"August? I? they hung up on me!" You hissed quickly running over to him tucking yourself into his thick frame pressing your head into his chest trying to soak in the smell of his aftershave. The spicy scent was heady and a little overbearing, you could tell why. Under the spice was the metallic twang of blood and deep sooty smell of fired bullets. You both loved and hated it, as safe as it made you feel remembering just who and what he was if frightened you, one day he could be hurt.

"Who? Sweetpea?" He purred softly needing to calm you down before he could make heads roll. His arms encircled you squeezing you tightly and he rested his chin on your head the began swaying with you slowly.

"The support desk! They charged import tax! And nothing was imported! Daddy I was careful and-and I checked and double checked there was no warning not on check out or nothin' then they took another ten dollars on top and now my bank is angry and charging me for going over!" You said quickly panicked that he would be mad at you for spending too much again.

"Okay pumpkin slow down... Tell daddy what's going on slowly... Don't miss anything out okay angel" he said pulling you back a little to let you catch your breath. But you quivered and opened your mouth wiping at your eyes before trying to argue.

"Yeah but!?"

"Shh shh no buts take a deep breath... Now out, good girl now start from the beginning" he coaxed slowly cooing at you as you took a few breaths and calmed, settling down n his arms feeling safe and secure, even if you were still angry.

"I got that lamp with the shelves... It was fifty four dollars and ninety nine cents" you started explaining from the beginning and waited for August to nod.

"Yes I know, I remember you showing me to see if it would fit in the corner" he spoke remembering the little pull cord box lamp and three shelves, you wanted it for the internet router and house phone to sit on so you had more room for snacks on the side table.

"Well I got it and paid but then when paypal billed me they charged sixty four dollars and ninety-nine cents... I messaged them and they said it was import tax!" You cried out getting yourself all angry again, cheeks puffing out sweetly as you huffed and growled even throwing you hands up in frustration. August made to speak but you continued your tale of the mean support desk and their money thieving ways.

"I looked it up and cos its coming for inside the state I don't have to pay! So I called and they said I had to because the shop was registered outside of the USA! But its wrong! They're wrong and when I asked for my money she hung up on me! She said I have to talk to the tax office people!" August frowned that wasn't right and he knew it. It was clear you were being taken for a fool. These bastards were at it all over the place he'd seen some of it on the news, instead of tax evasion as we know it there was a new crime. Stealing tax from buyers and classing it as profit. Because its tax most people don't question it.

"And then my bank sent me this! Saying I was over my limit and in the minus! So now they are taking twenty dollars when my next allowance goes in!" You cried quickly pulling up an email on your phone from your bank showing a notice of charges you now had on your account.

"Its not fair I didn't do nothing wrong daddy but now I'm loosing the tax and twenty dollars of my allowance!" You yelled and began sniffling again your lip wobbling. His heart melted as he watched you try so hard not to break down and cry again. You were being his big brave girl.

"Okay pumpkin i will sort this out give me the phone" he said plucking the phone from you then turned around heading to his office.

"But you cant! Its a withheld number-" you said sniffling following him one hand fisting the back of his jacket as he strode through the pent house to the secure room.

"Oh come on sweetheart don't tell me I'm going too soft and you've forgotten just who your daddy is~" he cooed opening the door and ushering you to the small teepee in the corner that had a large iPad and a few fuzzy scatter cushions .

"Go sit and watch YouTube or something okay? Let daddy fix this mess" he said pulling your headphones from the drawer and handed them to you ushering you to the small cozy spot he had made you.

You watched as he plugged your phone into his computer and made a few quick clicks before picking up his own phone and dialled a number with a smug look the clicked his fingers at you pointing to the headphones wanting you to pop them on and stop worrying. You pouted but slipped on the large pink headset and pretended to loom at your screen and select a video in reality you were listening to your daddy.

"Yes you wouldn't recognize it. How? Well this is a government number, you just told a young lady to inform us about taxes?" You flicked your eyes up at him grinning hearing the professional growl to his voice the 'daddy means business' tone that made you quiver with want and fear. It never meant good things, most of the time he used this tone when you were a bad girl. You only hoped the mean woman on the phone felt bad now too.

"Why yes, yes she did a miss y/n yes that's her. I would like for you to put me through to head office" you bit your lip hearing him begin his assault. No one not even the lady on the phone and her jargon would out smart your daddy!

"Pardon me I'm sorry I'm Mr Walker...I work for the tax office in her state and have decided to open an investigation about tax fraud over the issue, we have had many complaints... oh yes she informed us of everything, she was distressed over the tax miscalculation? Which has caused her to go over drawn on her account and incurred charges" he spoke firmly and turned looking to you as you giggled watching him in his huge leather spiny chair. You gasped when he frowned and pointed a finger to your iPad clearly telling you to stop being nosey and watch your videos.

"Yes I am aware of that but the shop is registered overseas, it doesn't export from overseas... so there is no international import tax due." He continued spinning around in the chair making a few notes on the large paper pad in front of him.

"Yes that's why I'm calling I've been on your website and your policies are in fact breaking the law and infringing on the rights of consumers. Do you understand? What you have done is illegal and fraudulent and I can see it isn't the first time so I would like to speak to your head of office now- thank you" you quickly looked down as August spun once more and grunted at you pointing to the door with a scowl catching you eavesdropping again.

"Poppet either watch your videos or go and have some lunch" he said covering the mouthpiece on the phone making you pout and flick your legs at him and cross your arms stubbornly. You wanted to watch!

"Decide or I will decide for you" he said raising his brows at you but you just huffed pleading with your eyes at him to let you stay and listen.

"Right lunch it is come on up! Off you pop go make a sandwich and have some juice" he said holding out his hand for the headphones.

"But I want to see you tell them off daddy!" You huffed non to impressed at being set out of the room so quickly.

"No, now do as I've asked daddy will be out in a few minuets this wont take long" you held his gaze for a few moments before you lost your nerve then stood with a pout handing him your headphones and left the room closing the door when you were told to.

It was twenty minuets alter August came put of the office and padded to the kitchen seeing you at the breakfast bar swinging on a chair whislt munching a chocolate spread sandwich a few candy wrappers on the side and packets of chips and un touched apple. He sighed giving you the stink eye but didn't say anything. You found a loop hole he said lunch and sandwich... he hadn't specified what type of lunch and sandwich.

"All sorted poppet! Your being refunded and getting compensation which will be debited into your account in forty eight hours" he said rounding the breakfast bar snatching the apple opening the cutlery drawer fishing out a knife.

"That's quick daddy... I thought they can only do it in five days?" You asked watching as he sliced the apples and began cutting the core out for you.

"Oh princess its amazing what people can do when they think the big bad tax man is on to them~" he chuckled at your face as he placed the apple on your plate. You didn't want to eat it but you would . Quickly. Because if you left it too long itd go brown and you would whine about it, get a warning and end up having to eat it anyway.

"Will you get in trouble? you pretended to be the tax man daddy" You said cautiously lifting a small apple wedge to your mouth and nibbled it.

"Me? Of course not daddy has many different identities love, and I can use them when I want love... besides we just uncovered a company that not only evades tax but it stealing it!" He grinned. If there was one thing he liked it was justice. Everyone should pay their dues. Especially someone who rigs a system to benefit themselves.

"And.. My bank charges?" You asked still unsure if he will be mad a you for over spending...Again

"All gone, daddy will cover them princess; now just how much chocolate spread is in that sandwich?" He said leaning over your plate trying to pry apart the two slices of bread.

"Err a little" you shrugged still eating your apple whist trying to smoosh your sandwich and hide the super thick chocolatey layer.

"Mm hmm there's more chocolate then bread poppet~" he hummed unimpressed but let it slide, again you'd found your loophole, the last thing he'd do is punish you for being a smart ass. It could save your life one day.

"Sorry daddy" you said whilst pulling the plates closer to yourself protectively worried he would steal our chocolate.

"Oh don't be poppet once its gone its gone its you that will miss it not me" he chuckled and spun around crossing the kitchen to make his own lunch. You grinned happily, what had been a bad day was getting better and better! You were getting your money back, compensation, your daddy was paying your and charges and you got to keep your chocolate spread! What more could you ask for? Well there was one more thing you could ask for.

"Daddy can I have a puppy?"

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x y/n #august walker x little reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fic

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sabraeal · 3 years ago

Note

Consider: Obi is green-red color blind

A Color by Any Other Name

Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”

To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.

They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.

“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.

“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”

There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”

What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.

“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”

Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”

“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”

Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.

“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”

Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”

There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”

“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”

Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”

He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”

“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”

“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--

But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”

“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”

“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”

“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”

“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”

His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”

“Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”

“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”

“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”

“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”

“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”

“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”

“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”

“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”

“Just...indulge me for a moment.”

“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”

“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”

“Yellow.”

“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”

Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”

“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”

Obi blinks. “Explain what?”

“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”

It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.

“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”

Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”

Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”

The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.

Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”

“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”

“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”

“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”

“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”

“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”

He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”

“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.

It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”

He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”

“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”

Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”

This is the wrong answer.

“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”

“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”

“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”

He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”

“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”

“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”

“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”

Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”

Obi blinks. “What?”

“All the black.”

It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”

“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”

“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”

“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”

“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”

“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”

“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”

“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”

He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.

“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”

He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”

“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”

Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.

“How...?”

Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?

“How did you notice?”

Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”

“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”

“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”

Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”

“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”

A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”

“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”

His brows raise. “Well, well.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”

“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”

He watches her, careful. “But do you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.

Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”

His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”

Fair enough.

“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”

According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.

Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.

Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.

“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”

“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”

Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.

Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--

“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”

--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Then what about the note?”

Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”

“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”

“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“

Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.

“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”

“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”

Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”

“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”

There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.

“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”

“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”

There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.

“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”

Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”

Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.

Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”

She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.

“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”

He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”

“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”

Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”

“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”

Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”

“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”

Obi grimaces.

“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”

The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.

“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”

She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”

Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.

Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--

“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”

“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”

She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”

“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”

Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”

Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”

Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.

“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”

Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.

She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”

“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”

She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.

“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”

Her breath catches. “Anything.”

“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”

“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”

“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”

“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”

“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”

Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”

“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”

“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”

Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.

“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”

“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--

“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”

He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”

Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”

It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”

“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”

Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #this request has been sitting in my box since 2017 #when i FIRST started joking about this au #and i always meant to get around to it #but obviously my last few years have been filled with some things that have perhaps kept me #from being able to do all the things I meant to 🤣#but once Anne brought this up again #I knew i had a very good excuse to finally get this thing out in the world #AND HERE IT IS #it takes place some amount of time after the current arc

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slimesidian · 3 years ago

Text

I don't tend to write based on other people's stuff but @red-rose-gown has been making candy related body horror stuff and it's been too good Not to get in on :)

[TW for body horror and candy gore-adjacent content.]

-Mod Slime

It was a rather soft thud that alerted Zed that someone was in his base, other than himself, of course. The presence of another Hermit was a tad confusing, as Zed hadn't expected any visitors. Had he forgotten about a scheduled test for the day...er… Night?

He grabbed his clipboard and checked, no, nothing was scheduled. He didn't really have anything scheduled, to be fair. He lived all by himself on a mountain, secluded from everyone else, there wasn't exactly a need for a perfect schedule when nothing could interrupt him.

So he thought, anyway.

After hearing the same thud again he decided to go check out the entrance to his lab. Maybe one of the Hermits is just sleepwalking, or they're just playfully messing with him… he repeated these kinds of thoughts, as a sinking feeling grew in the pits of his stomach, settling only deeper when he got to the laboratory's door.

He stepped in something cream colored, it was liquidy, but not fully. Like icing. He got down and picked some of the substance up onto his finger, licking it. Definitely icing… but why was there icing on the floor?

He followed the sugary substance until he found what he assumed made the thud noise. He froze as he stared at the specimen, realizing that it was the thing that left icing on the floor.

The icing was pooled around it, almost like blood, and Zed hesitantly made the choice to get closer.

As he approached it, he noticed how its skin looked melty, how purple crystalline shards were sprouting up from several places across its body, most notably its shoulder blades.

Its eyes were a glossy purple, shimmering pink when light hit them.

The thing that was the most strange, however, was this… Candy coated thing… was wearing Tango's shirt. Zed only recognized it from the double T insignia on the sleeves, and the more he stared at it, the more he had a realization.

This thing wasn't just wearing Tango's clothes… no… No it was Tango, even if barely recognizable.

Zed got on his knees to get close to his friend's face, trying not to look at the dull eyes staring past him.

Some of Tango's now icing-like skin was melting over his eyes, and his mouth was slack, barely expressing any emotion. Zed couldn't even tell if he was alive, but given the two thuds, he had to be. He had to.

The blond sighed, pulling his sleeves down and picking his friend up. Given the state Tango was in, it was a surprise his head didn't melt from his body and splatter to the ground like fallen ice cream.

Zed shook the thought off the moment he had it, though. Tango was probably uncomfortable just lying on the floor, so Zed carried him to his bed, laying him down in it as clearly as he could.

Now that Tango was on an elevated surface, Zed could get a better look at his appearance. His once red freckles were now pink and purple, and they looked more like little sprinkles than freckles. His eyes looked like broken crystals, shimmering even more now that he was in a lit room, and a lot of his skin had melted over his left eye.

He had little dots lining his skin, almost like nuts in a chocolate bar or chocolate chips in a cookie. Zed wanted to pull one out to test that comparison, but decided against it. For Tango's sake.

Another thing Zed noticed was Tango's fingers. They were sticking together slightly, and seemed much stickier than his face. They were also a golden caramel, much like his hair.

In fact, his hair was one of the weirdest things about his new appearance. Rather than being messy, it was perfectly smooth, and reflected light much like a caramel apple would. It seemed almost too similar to be a coincidence.

The only part of his new appearance that confused Zed were the random purple shards. They were sticking out of his head, his back, and his shoulders. Clearly they were protruding from inside of his body, but Zed didn't know where they came from… And was mildly terrified to find out.

To be fair, though, Zed didn't know why Tango was like this at all. Randomly turning into candy isn't something normal, even for the Hermits. There had to be something that caused this, but given his distance from society, Zed did not know what that something could be.

And he'd ask if he thought Tango could hear him, but he wasn't sure if he could.

And that was the most terrifying realization, and that realization haunted Zed as he stared into his friend's numb, glossy eyes, horrified of what put him in this state...

#hermitcraft #mcyt #hermitblr #//tw body horror #mod slime talks #mod slime #mod slime writes #zedaphplays #tango tek #candy curse au #candy man curse au #misc writing #writing for others #ask to tag #//tw candy gore #hermitcraft au #not our au

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writing-in-april · 5 years ago

Text

Surprise Pretty Boy

Spencer x Female Reader

Summary- You haven’t had sex in a while, because of your job and your infatuation with Spencer Reid. You proposition him for sex and have a big surprise waiting for him.

Warnings- Smut, soft sub Spencer/ dom reader, nipple piercings (female), oral (male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

A/n- this is my first smut, I’m a little nervous to post tbh. This is edited but only a bit and also my requests are open! Some of the formatting is weird too I’m on mobile sorry!

Masterlist

---------------------------------

I needed to fuck the shit out of someone, it’s been too long at this point. I couldn’t even remember the last fuck I had, I think it was 8 months ago at a bar. It didn’t help that I rarely got out of the house because of my job, the BAU never slept so neither did I.

We had just gotten home from a stressful case that almost ended in disaster. All I wanted to do at this point was unwind by having a mind blowing orgasm but there were no men or women in sight. Unless I went for Spencer who I had a massive crush on, he was honestly the reason I stopped getting laid. I just couldn’t get railed by a one night stand without thinking of him, it got too weird and I just wanted the real thing.

I was so desperate tonight that I might shoot my shot, we just happened to be the last ones in the office doing paperwork. My horny mind had been preventing me from being fully productive all day, but I had finally finished my massive stack of reports. Spencer often took on the slack of everyone else when it came to paperwork, something that I’ll never understand, but he did look cute when his eyebrows furrowed in concentration trying to write as fast as he could. God I just wanted to break him. Maybe I would deny him orgasms all night or ride him into the sunset and watch his whimpering face as he begs me to stop after making him cum multiple times.

Spencer has noticed that I was unashamedly staring and he shot me an inquisitive look.

“You ok?” His voice snapped me out of my x-rated daydream.

“Yeah just thinking.”

“About?” He scrunched his nose in typical Spencer fashion. Fuck it, I’ll be honest with him, he was too cute for me to not at least attempt to make a move.

“How much I want to fuck you” I stated bluntly, a look of shock spread across his face.

“Y-you want to w-what?” His voice started to raise a few octaves, getting to that squeaky pitch that made me want him even more.

I slowly sauntered over to his desk chair and swung my legs around him so I was straddling him. His big brown eyes had become as wide as saucers and he started stuttering, his hands betrayed his nervous persona as they immediately sat above my ass.

“I. Want. To. Fuck. You. Spencer” I said with conviction, he gulped hard and sighed deeply mulling over the thoughts racing through his head.

“I-I want y-you to fuc-ck me, can we go back to your place?”

I nodded a yes to him “Only one rule tonight Spencer, I’m in charge. Is that ok with you?” He bobbed his head back in a yes, then we both got our things and raced to the elevator.

I pulled Spencer into my car with a promise of giving him a ride to work tomorrow, and probably broke 50 traffic laws on the ride home.

We both bolted out of the car and stumbled through my doorway in a heated make out session once I finally got the door to open. I pushed him against my closed front door and slipped my tongue into Spencer’s mouth fully dominating the kiss. My arms fully enveloped his larger frame and I started to tug him over to my couch so I could fully enjoy him.My legs swung over his lap straddling him for the second time that night. We continued to make out on the couch like horny teenagers for what felt like bourse until Spencer started to paw at my blouse. I leaned in to start kissing and biting on his collarbone that was peaking out from under his button up. My lips slowly worked their way up the column of his throat and I bit on the shell of his ear, which let me hear a gorgeous moan.

“I have a surprise for you pretty boy” I breathily whispered into his ear as I dragged my palm across his jaw. He let out a gorgeous whine and rutted his hips up into me. He was in for a shock, I had gotten my nipples pierced when I was younger to make them more sensitive. I hope Spencer would appreciate as much as I did.

I slowly peeled my shirt off my figure, I had no bra on and my pierced nipples hardened as the cool air hit them. Spencer’s eyes widened and he let out a little beautiful squeak at the sight.

“You like what you see?” I smirked and batted my eyelashes. All he could do was nod eagerly in response, he greedily leaned forward and almost immediately wrapped his mouth around my nipple. I moaned at the sudden contact and I started to grind on his hard crotch again. His mouth continued to suckle on my bud combined with the hard metal as his other hand came to pinch my other nipple.

Was it possible to orgasm from nipple stimulation? Normally I’d say no, but the way Spencer’s mouth sucked on my bud was getting me off better then most guys with their hand down my pants. Plus the way his bulge was hitting right at my clothed clit was almost enough to push me over the edge. Spencer must have sensed how close I was and snuck one of his hands in my pants. He deftly worked his finger on my clit which pushed me over the cliff.

“Oh my god Spencer” I moaned out as I rode out my first high of the night. His eyes raked over my form in awe, I had no doubt that he was enjoying this just as much as I was.

After I had come down I slowly slid down onto my hard wood floors not really caring for the pain from being on my knees.

“Thank you Spencer, you were such a good boy” Even though I was the one down on my knees I was still in full control.

Spencer’s pupils were blown wide in lust as I undid his belt buckle and pulled his boxers and slacks down all at once.

I bit my lip as I got a good look at what Spencer was packing not to thick but god was it long. I moaned in anticipation of how good the stretch would feel but for now I just wanted my mouth to work its magic.

He was already painfully hard but I wanted to tease him a bit more so I slowly started to move my hand up and down his shaft. I was purposely barely gripping him, I wanted to see how desperate I could make him. His eyes had shut at this point, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he let out a breathy moan.

“Please do something” he gasped out, so I slowly leaned forward and took his head in my mouth but I still barely gave him the relief he was looking for. He hadn’t begged enough yet.

He tried to apply pressure on my head, I grabbed his hands and pinned them to the couch.

“Holy shit y/n please!” His raspy voice was raised to an octave I didn’t think was possible. So I finally relented taking him back as far as possible into my throat and precum filled my mouth as an indicator of his desire. The sounds that Spencer was making were music to my ears, he moaned loud each time I took him to the back of my throat. I could tell that he was about to cum so I suddenly pulled my mouth off of him with a soft pop.

He whined at the loss of contact, he almost looked like a baby that had gotten his candy taken away.

“Don’t worry baby boy I want you to cum inside me instead. Is that alright with you?” He seemed to enjoy the nickname and bit his lip nodding his head once more.

“Y/n please fuck me.” I loved hearing him beg like the good boy he was. I crawled up into his lap again and slowly sunk down onto his length letting myself feel every ridge of his cock. Spencer moaned the loudest he had all night, which I didn’t even think was possible. His breath was shaky and I could tell it was taking all of his will not to thrust up into me, he was being a good boy by waiting patiently.

Once I adjusted to his length I started to bounce on him making him even more breathless then before. Then Spencer pulled me closer to him and started to play with my nipples again, I could tell he fully appreciated my piercings.

“Your such a good boy Spencer always taking care of me.” I gasped out, my hands wound through his hair and pulled his head back hard. His blissed our state was an amazing sight to see, his mouth was open in a gasp, his eyes were barely open and in a glassy state.

“I’m so close y/n” he whimpers our pitifully

“I’m close to baby boy help me get there with you” My words barely escaped coherently but he understood bringing one of his hands off of my ass to my clit. His large dexterous fingers rubbed tight circles on my clit and suddenly my vision turned white.

After I rode out my high my focus was back on Spencer.My lips sucked beautiful hickies onto his neck that would be a pain to cover up, I honestly didn’t care at this point.

“C’mon baby boy cum for me” I gently coaxed him to his release in a few last hard bounces. His strangled moans accompanied with the ropes he shot into me helped me into another small orgasm that I barely registered was on the brink.

“Holy shit” I gasped out after I had somewhat caught my breath. I started to get up to go to the bathroom, so I’d prevent a UTI when Spencer’s arms wrapped around my frame.

“Stay” he breathlessly whispered.

“I’ll come back and cuddle but I really don’t want a UTI Spencer. You’d be the first one to remind me of that.” He relented and let go, my feet padded through my apartment everything else quiet as I made my way to the bathroom. After I had relieved myself I grabbed a washcloth to clean him up as well. I made my way back to his sleepy form cleaning him up and I let him envelope me again after I was done. We cuddled naked in silence for a while waiting for someone to bring up the awkwardness that would surely come up after a night like this.

I knew that Spencer would never be the one to make the first move, just like with my request to fuck him so I decided to take another leap of faith tonight.

“Spencer”I quietly whispered bringing him out of his thoughts “I don’t think of you as a one night stand or a friends with benefits I truly like you. I-I’d like to go on a date if you want to?” He looked a little surprised also mixed with relief? I couldn’t tell as I waited in bated breath for his answer.

“I’d like that to y/n, I was honestly scared you’d only want this to be a one time thing” he admitted meekly, I basically lunged at him kissing his beautiful lips.

“Round 2?” I asked between kisses

“Only if this time I can be in charge?” He cheekily asked.

“Oh definitely Sir”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #mgg #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #smut

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chocosvt · 5 years ago

Text

⚬ pairing: junhui x reader ⚬ word count: 8125 ⚬ warnings: none! ⚬ genres: secret relationship, some slice of life uni moments, FLUFF, very light angst, spice, roommates!wonhui.

✧✎ synopsis: you’re friends with junhui - but also, not really. it’s friends and a little bit more than that. it’s difficult keeping your relationship a secret, especially when you’ve never loved someone the way you love him.

✧✎ a/n: NOBODY MOVE! I WROTE A JUN BDAY FIC ;_; this is really just me projecting all my years of love onto a word doc. enjoy!!

It was midnight, and the apartment was dark, unmoving. No one had bothered to clean the blue cereal bowl left in the sink and there remained bread crumbs on the countertop from lunch. As you flicked through the strange glimpses of late-night television, yawning in an outrageous width, there was a hunger pang, accompanied by an immediate craving for some sort of sweet candy.

So, you did what seemed best: fit into your sneakers and a windbreaker and push open the door to Jun’s bedroom while he was curled up on his side watching his drama. Wonwoo would usually be occupying the adjacent bed, though he had stayed over at Joshua’s dorm to study for his next history summative. Yet he’d left his beat-up, decaying textbook on his pillow.

“Put on your slippers or something, we’re going to the convenience store.”

Jun didn’t say anything, rather he continued holding out his phone, the bedsheets pulled taunt to his nose. Looking at Jun’s desk that sat next to the door, you picked up the rubber band ball he’d been adding to since his twelfth-grade year and threw it at his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squeaked dramatically. His head then poked over his shoulder as he attempted to see where the ball rolled off to.

“Put on your slippers,” you reiterated, “I want strawberry tangs.”

Without much effort, Jun quickly gave up looking for the elastic ball and returned to watching his drama, establishing his comfort while somehow still persisting to ignore you. He was very much so a homebody, and if it weren’t for you guiding him out the apartment like a grandchild taking their elderly for an afternoon walk, then he might’ve never left his bedroom apart from his class schedule. Yet, you knew exactly how to persuade him, weaken his heart that was already soft and golden.

An immediate whine rumbled in his throat when you jumped on the bed, pulling at him until he finally rolled onto his back, at last pressing pause on his phone. You tossed a thigh over each side of his silhouette and gripped the boy’s wide shoulders, gazing unflinchingly past his black fringe and into those big, glistening eyes.

“Come with me to the store,” you weren’t sure if you were offering or demanding, “please?”

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

“Walking around alone at night? Hello? Do you have no concern for me?” Came your joking counter.

He tossed his head back, the black fringe bouncing from his lashes. His capitulating yelp of, “fine, fine, I’ll come” was satisfactory enough for you to remove yourself from the boy’s tiny waist, where you stepped on the floor and nearly sprained your ankle due to that dumb, elastic ball. At least you found it. While you returned the toy to his desk, Jun quickly threw a worn jean jacket over his black long sleeve and didn’t bother bending down to fix his sneakers, his heels jutting out the back.

At the convenience store, the only shoppers were you, Junhui, and this lady wearing a huge pair of sunglasses, though you figured she was far from the strangest of the midnight stragglers.

It was rather quiet, even with the fluorescent lights buzzing and the battery-powered fan keeping the cashier cool at the register. You grabbed the first package of strawberry tangs while Jun sorted through the other flavours very meticulously.

“What about blue raspberry?” He said. “You don’t want that?”

“I don’t know, I just really have a craving for strawberry.”

Jun detached a bright green package from the rack. “Sour apple? What about that?”

“Not tasty at all. Pass.”

He grabbed another package and quirked his eyebrow. “Sweet cherry? Come on. That sounds good.”

You lightly hit his arm with the strawberry candy, your laughter echoing over the shelves, “I just want strawberry! If you think the sweet cherry sounds good then you buy it!”

But Jun just shook the black fringe from his playful gaze, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tangy zangys are the bottom tier of gummy candy. No way.”

“So shut up then.” The words were harsh, yet your smile was no more menacing than a butterfly.

Since it would be impossible for Jun to leave the store without stocking his snack collection, you shopped for longer than expected, filling a basket with spicy chips and hard candies and a few chocolate bars. Heading home down the nighttime street, beneath the moonlight, the infinite expanse of a blackness that felt like a cocoon, you had already ripped open your strawberry tangs while Jun tore the corner off a tiny pouch of bubblegum poprocks.

They crackled loudly on his tongue, in which he made sure to hover in close proximity to your ear, ensuring you could detect every small fizzle. Each time it warranted you to shove him away, muttering a cheap laugh about how it wasn’t required that he lean in so generously, though you couldn’t evade that one nervous thought ticking at the back of your head: you wanted to kiss him, wrap your palm around Jun’s neck and taste the electric bubblegum from his heart-shaped mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me?” You asked, suckling the sugar off a red candy strip.

Jun swallowed his poprocks. “I guess you can word it like that.”

Standing at the living room fish tank, you opened the tab to the flake box and shook the food into the water, your pink guppy who you had so fittingly named, Princess Pebble, swimming toward the surface in order to nip at the flakes. Wonwoo observed you from his seat at the kitchen table, dragging his spoon through the remainder of his cereal, scooping out the last soggy pieces.

“I feel good about it,” Wonwoo hummed, referring to the history test he wrote yesterday, “I think I might’ve left out some information on the essay question.”

You closed the fish flakes and returned to the table, where you left your cup of tea.

“Eh, who cares,” you mumbled behind the rim, “you’re gonna get like a ninety-five anyways.”

The boy shrugged, pressing a fingertip to his glasses, moving them higher up his nose. He had always been diligent with his studying, though he often left the apartment to write notes at the library or a classmate’s dorm. It was difficult to accomplish much when Junhui would distract him, and rather than reading his textbook, Wonwoo would always end up playing computer games with the latter.

“Did you hear Jun come home last night?” You asked, gulping the rest of your tea.

Wonwoo set his bowl into the sink and filled it with water, smiling. It irked you somehow. You were only curious about whether or not he heard Jun return from his dance practice.

Joining him at the sink to clean your mug, you bumped his elbow. “What’s so cute over here?”

“Nothing,” he hummed dismissively, “I heard him crawl into bed, that’s pretty much it.”

“And that’s funny or something?”

“You ask about him quite frequently.” Wonwoo turned to you with a suspecting glance, one that made you subtly desire to dump a cup of water over his head. “You know that, right?”

The morning air was cool, yet your face felt immensely heated, almost prickling.

“I ask because we’re fri—”

“Friends. Yeah, yeah.” Wonwoo huffed, the omniscient smile creeping back toward his mouth, to which you could do nothing apart from gawk at your roommate despite his reiteration of a musing that wasn’t at all unfamiliar. “I’ve always loved you for your innate sense of comedy. It’s priceless.”

It’s what everyone assumed anyways. You and Jun fought tooth and nail to articulate your friendship, to paint with the colours that would lead everyone to believe it was true. Most often your explanations worked, yet there remained some who were particularly stubborn. Wonwoo was an evident case. But he was too close, too eagle-eyed, and he saw that you and Jun behaved in a manner completely beyond friendship. Despite the likewise feelings, something unbeknownst kept you apart.

“I know exactly what that means, idiot!” Echoed your shout as Wonwoo disappeared down the corridor, hoping to take refuge in his bedroom.

“I’m glad!” The depth of his voice reverberated into the kitchen, and you heard his door quickly shut.

No less than a few seconds later did Junhui reveal himself from around the corner, clean and freshened up after a steamy shower, one he desperately needed upon immediately passing out, sweat-soaked and exhausted in his bed the night before. Soonyoung definitely hadn’t taught their lesson with any degree of ease. Pretending you weren’t just quipping at Wonwoo, you smiled.

“Were you two fighting?” Jun asked, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. He usually whipped together an omelette for breakfast.

“No, not at all. We never fight, remember?”

Jun scoffed while opening the fridge, removing an egg carton and a plastic wrapping filled with vegetables. Still hungry, you started peeling open a tangerine from the fruit basket and stood next to him as he organized the produce onto a cutting board. Ever so faintly, you could smell the crisp scent to his aftershave. It was peculiar how a bit of foam could render your chest that cottony.

“In fact, when’s the last time you even remember an argument Wonwoo and I had?” You prodded.

“Two days ago,” Jun laughed, “when Wonwoo wanted to watch that exploration documentary on King Tut, but you changed the channel so you could finish the last season of Home Makeover.”

Pressing his rose lips together, Junhui casted you an innocent glance. “So there’s that.”

Separating a small slice of tangerine, you gently pushed the clove into the boy’s mouth. He smiled softly as he began to chew. With the gentle tang of citrus in the air, you set a hand on Jun’s shoulder and buried your face against his warm neck, whispering, “yeah, and it was definitely worth it.”

Quite frankly, neither you, Jun, Wonwoo, or Joshua were fairing optimally at the library. While Wonwoo sat on the opposite side of the table helping Joshua organize his economics presentation, you were neglecting your biology packet, instead choosing to sketch a tiny Princess Pebble in the paper’s upper corner. Jun had been tasked with reviewing his latest theatre script, yet he hadn’t even flicked through it. He was intrigued by one of the numerous mangas he’d saved to his phone.

“Take the last point off here,” Wonwoo said, peering over Joshua’s shoulder at his laptop, “there’s too much text, and this isn’t a major branch of your topic anyways.”

Joshua sighed as he made a few clicks on his keyboard. “Dude, I don’t think I can edit another word. This class is so boring.”

“Mr. Canning is just a boring professor,” Wonwoo sympathized, “it would be best if it were someone who weren’t so… dry. I guess is the right word.”

Slumping back in his chair, Joshua huffed, “he’s like a human chalk stick.”

Desperate to discuss something that wasn’t related to his lacklustre econ class, Joshua spared a glance at Jun’s unopened script. “Shouldn’t you be learning that?” He asked.

Jun didn’t look away from the phone in his lap. “I can’t do it here.”

“That means he’s going to open it for the first time at one in the morning, the day of his performance.” You chuckled, outlining the sketch of your guppy using Wonwoo��s pink gel pen.

Harshly, Jun’s hand smacked your knee under the table and you couldn’t help but laugh, garnering an over-the-shoulder glare from a student in the corner who’d been trying to focus on their colossal textbook. Wonwoo smiled at them apologetically while Joshua feigned as though he were typing something on his laptop. However, Jun’s hand didn’t leave your knee, and your laughter became an immediate drought, to which the sole thing you could feel was his palm creeping higher up your leg.

Attempting to be subtle, you turned your head slightly and looked at the boy with a bit of a warning expression, though Jun simply continued to scroll through his manga.

“I’m going to check the world history section,” Wonwoo announced, rising from the table, “anyone want to come with?”

Joshua pushed out his chair. “I’ll come just so I don’t have to stare at this shitty powerpoint.”

As soon as the boys walked beyond earshot, you pinched the edge of Jun’s ear. He finally tossed his phone onto the table, though he didn’t exactly appear compassionate, rather he was smirking, for he knew if you truly didn’t want his hand touching your leg then you would have bumped it away.

“You can’t do that.” Nonetheless, there surmounted a need to establish some insignificant boundary, one that neither of you were going to follow through. “Not when they’re so close.”

“But they didn’t see.” Jun replied, squeezing your inner thigh. “It shouldn’t matter.”

“It does. What if Joshua saw?” At that point, Wonwoo was fairly conditioned to your lingering fingertips, grazes and stares. He usually pretended not to notice them. However, Joshua was a risk.

Jun shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you worry too much? I always touch your leg.”

That was the problem. People trying to convince other people that their relationship was wholly platonic didn’t linger in such an intimate way. They didn’t creep fingertips up the other’s inner thigh beneath a tablecloth, or possess a gaze that traced the other’s lips like a delectable piece of candy when they spoke. There shouldn’t be any whispers pressed quickly against the other’s ear when no one else was looking, or the dire urge to climb into the other’s lap when their legs were wide open.

Both of you were afraid. Neither of you wanted to break the question that would thrust your relationship into the light. You kept waiting for the right time, but it always seemed one step ahead.

The movie theatre was nearly empty as the longwinded credit screen continued rolling, the last few congregations throwing their soda cups and empty packages into the garbage on their way out. Still, the floor of practically every row had been scattered with butter popcorn or melted m&m’s, shiny chocolate wrappers left crinkled in the recliners like the employees were supposed to take them home as gifts. Wonwoo put his hands on the back of his head, examining the disastrous rows.

You sensed he was feeling rather lucky about not being scheduled that night. Jun forced himself from the recliner and picked up his cup of fruit punch, jammed with way too many ice cubes.

If no one else was going to comment, you might as well. “That wasn’t the worst.”

“Agreed.” Wonwoo said, pushing up his glasses. “The murderer’s ploy was difficult to follow at times. I started getting confused when he left his car in the woods.”

“What?” Jun gawked. “That’s when you got confused? I didn’t even know what was happening after the first half hour.” His eyes gleamed in astonishment.

“Same.” You admitted. “I guess you’ll have to explain in the car.”

Reaching into the cupholder, you pulled out the package of strawberry tangs with nothing but a tiny amount of the powder-like sugar left inside.

“Thank you for picking up your trash,” Wonwoo sighed, taking the lead down the stairway while the credit music still played, “I’d hate to be working tonight.”

The wide corridor was completely vacant by the time you exited the theatre. Ever so slightly you could hear the galactic sound effects from the arcade machines. That buttery scent of popcorn seemed to waft no matter where you stood in the cinema. Wonwoo announced that he was going to check the concession counter to see who was on cash, but assured he would meet you and Jun at the back exit. Jun hurriedly downed his fruit punch in a large gulp before you emerged into the night.

You were confined to the small overhang by the doorway, for a hard rain was pelting against the concrete and turned the night air considerably cooler. Not one of you had checked the forecast beforehand, and you would undoubtedly get drenched straight through to the flesh in your thin long-sleeve.

“How are we going to make it to the car?” You groaned.

Pulling up his hood, Jun only laughed. “Now is a good time to be able to teleport.” He then stuck out his hand for a moment, the raindrops hitting his palm.

“Does it feel like bullets?”

“No. It feels kind of nice actually.” He remarked.

Curious, you rolled up your sleeve and extended your arm into the downpour. Jun was right, it felt satisfactory as each of the brisk droplets splashed your skin. However, you prematurely discovered the rain wasn’t so appealing when Jun suddenly shoved you from beneath the overhang.

“Hey— what the hell?!” You squealed upon the immediate repercussions, the cold water already leaking through your top while Junhui slapped his thigh, cackling.

Wanting to erase that luminous grin of his, you attempted wrestling the lanky boy into the weather, but no more than a few harmless drops skimmed his shoulder. Yet, with another brute shove, Jun stumbled, feeling the silver needles of rain pour down from the night sky and swirl at his dampening sneakers. He was laughing as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you hard against his chest before you were even cognisant that an immense wetness was soaking through your every article.

You wished it had been indignance drumming in your heart rather than affection, because it was taking every single fibre of your being not to kiss him. As the droplets beaded down his skin, he was like a springtime flower caught in the morning dew, and when he carded back the wet, black hairs plastered to his forehead, you thought it was possible to fall into him and never feel that concrete scrape your knees. Gently, his hand touched the small of your wet back, his breaths deepening.

He urged you in tighter as his tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting the rain.

You were shivering, frigid, though your blood was far too warm to let yourself take note. Instead, you moved your head closer, closer, Jun’s cold palm cupping your cheek and your eyes fluttering shut and your soft mouths just brushing together— until Wonwoo appeared from inside.

Instantly, you two pushed away from each other. With his eyes widening, Wonwoo stuttered.

“I-I’m… I’m going to pretend as best I can that something weird didn’t almost happen.” He stated, swallowing thickly. “Just… Why did you two have to get soaked? You’re sitting in my car, y’know!”

At last, you felt that icy shiver trickle down your spine.

“S-Sorry.” You hummed, teeth chattering.

“I guess it’s fine,” Wonwoo sighed, “I have some towels under the passenger’s seat.”

Not long after returning to the apartment, Wonwoo gathered his laptop and slipped into his pyjamas. He proceeded to flop onto the couch to edit his research paper, though it didn’t take much for his eyelids to start weighing down, his dense paragraphs blurring together on the screen. More often than not you would take advantage of Wonwoo’s midnight crashes in the living room.

After exchanging your damp, terribly cold clothes for a warm t-shirt and sweatpants, you found yourself cozied beneath Jun’s comforter for the umpteenth night. The boy’s head rested against the crook of your neck, where his slow breaths were cool to your skin, though they occasionally became heavier when your fingertips stroked at his smooth hair. He was much like a kitten who loved a thorough scratch behind the ears. You swore that he purred whenever you rubbed the right spot.

Holding out his phone, he’d been finishing an episode of his drama before bed. You tucked some of the black locks behind his ear, noting how much it’d grown over the months. Then your gaze wandered over every detail that shaped his face, as though he were a textured oil painting.

His eyes were always glimmering, seemingly innocent and curious, yet you knew just how much that earthly shade could darken when he fell into his professions. When Jun acted on stage, his gaze lost its untainted nature. It moulded into the role of the sinister characters he preferred playing. When he danced in blazing lights, those eyes were sharp enough to consume, to cut, almost like a razorblade.

But then you studied his lips, his heart-shaped cupid’s bow, the small constellation of moles that dotted his skin like kisses from past soulmates. You thought back to the mist and the rain, his hand resting against the small of your back, how close you were to tasting the flavourful, fruity mix of his drink. In fact, you wondered why you didn’t just kiss Junhui whenever you wanted. What was stopping you, in that moment, from turning his head toward you so that your lips could press to his?

Suddenly, the boy laughed at his phone screen, to which you felt the brassy reverberation erupt in his chest, his eyes glinting and his mouth stretched into a box-like smile. You pulled a few strands of hair from his forehead as he seemed to be glowing, his cheeks rosy.

Jun mewled in surprise when your fingers threaded rather tight through his black locks, feeling you tilt his head up until his gaze was burning into yours.

You didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you kissed him sweet and slow.

Jun’s eyes fluttered as the pressure warmed his mouth, a small whine getting caught in his throat upon the gentle sting of your hand tugging at his tresses, his scalp tingling. His phone sunk into the bedsheets, and instead he was gripping your t-shirt, moving his head with yours as the kiss deepened. He tasted like mint, and his small whines were silky.

How on earth could you have ever shied from kissing him when it felt so relieving? Nothing else held any significance to you apart from making his pretty lips shine.

However, you needed to catch your breath. Releasing the firm grasp on his hair, you detached your mouth from his, your chest rising and falling in great lengths. The boy’s eyes couldn’t be more glazed, his lips shimmering, flushed garnet and slightly swollen. Neither of you uttered a word. The blankets fell from Jun’s shoulders as he straddled your waist eagerly. Again, his mouth slotted with yours, and your hands slid up his caramel thighs, imprinting his flesh with the curve of your fingernails.

If you kept quiet enough, then perhaps Wonwoo would remain asleep until morning.

Standing amongst the crowd in the cramped performance hall, it was inevitable that you would get bumped around like a tiny, flying pinball. After rutting into Wonwoo’s shoulder for the third time, he seemed dauntingly close to losing his indolence and snapping, though he realized it wasn’t your fault that others were pushing toward the front of the stage and bit his tongue.

It became tradition for Soonyoung and his students to rent the downtown performance hall and host a fundraiser. The event typically lasted a few hours, with a few short interludes where the dancers would retreat backstage to catch their breath. Being Jun’s roommate, you and Wonwoo were always granted access into the small dressing room, and though you never admitted it, you loved experiencing that small flash of pride whenever the moonstruck audience watched you slip away.

The next interlude was closing in. Despite the different dancers on stage, you really, truthfully, only watched Jun. Each time he captured the centre position, you couldn’t help but cup your hands around your mouth, being one of the first to cheer overtop the deafening music as he moved so fluidly, with poise. He was a completely different person when he performed. Somehow, his tender-hearted nature would peel back and he’d emerge a domineering beacon.

As soon as the stage ended, an uproar rippled from the audience and resonated deep in your ears, to which you couldn’t help but slightly bury your head against Wonwoo’s shoulder to muffle the cacophony. Nonetheless, you were clapping, smiling, staring fondly as Jun grabbed his collar and fluffed it out, welcoming a slight gust of humid air. His skin was dewy with sweat, and yet he glowed beautifully, even when he was breathing so heavily through his nose.

Soonyoung was speaking into his microphone, but you missed half his speech, and before you knew it you were being dragged by Wonwoo through the crowd toward the backstage entrance. The room was at least big enough to accommodate the dancers. Jun was in the corner, gulping down his water.

“Only three more songs,” Wonwoo smiled, “you guys really stepped the level up this year.”

It took a moment before Jun replied, the column of his neck glittering as he completely crushed the plastic bottle in his hands.

“Yeah,” he burst out, “I’m freaking dying.”

“It’s for a good cause at least.” Wonwoo reasoned, ignoring how you stepped on his foot.

After Jun rolled his eyes, he was staring at you.

The air grew much too thick, and you had to clear your throat. “S-Seriously, you’ve improved so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Thanks,” Jun replied, scratching his nape, “it’s nothing special, really.”

“Uh? Nothing special?” Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t Soonyoung say you’re one of the best in the class?”

When Jun innocently flitted his gaze toward a distant spot and pressed his lips together, Wonwoo merely huffed, announcing he was going to the lobby for a drink of water. You watched him wind between the busy dancers, either wiping down their sweat or fanning themselves, until he disappeared out the door. When you faced Jun again, you looped your fingers through the satin collar of his stage outfit and kissed him quickly, knowing everyone was too occupied to take note.

He squeaked, “what happened to being careful?”

“This is your fault.” You eagerly pinned it on him. “Try being less hot.”

“That’s horrible advice. And also not possible. Which makes it worse than horrible.”

You weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to feel his mouth again or whack the side of his head with his deflated water bottle. Opting for latter, you stole another kiss, though you tensed in surprise when Jun wrapped his arm around your waist to secure your body firm against his. Hastily, you pushed at his toned stomach, your heart drilling manically as you looked over your shoulder toward the dancers. It didn’t appear as though anyone had seen and you breathed out in relief.

Suddenly, Soonyoung poked his head through the doorway.

“Ten minutes!” He shouted before disappearing.

Jun was staring at you with the most ingenious twinkle.

“That was your fault.” He purred, tapping your thigh with his water bottle. “Try being less hot.”

You did feel a small sliver of guilt. After all, Wonwoo had been waiting back at the apartment for approximately an hour, twiddling his thumbs, wondering why you and Jun required so much goddamn time just to buy some hot fudge sundaes. The molten taste of the chocolate, the vanilla ice cream, cold and sweet, was completely stolen from your lips by the boy whose lap you were occupying. Wonwoo’s sundae sat on the dashboard, dripping slowly beneath the evening sunlight.

And yet, that infinitesimal sliver was plucked straight out when Jun latched onto a sensitive patch of your neck, softly digging in his teeth and swirling his tongue. Your fingers sheathed through the black hair and pulled up at the roots, knowing how much pleasure he took from the dull sting. Button by button, Jun started to simultaneously open your shirt, to which you questioned if this was really happening, if you were really going to sort of out the complications of intercourse in his car.

The device abandoned in the passenger’s seat buzzed. You already knew the name to the text. As Jun kissed his way down to your collarbone, licking and suckling, you reached for your phone, feeling it buzz again with another impatient text. The guilt from earlier began to resurface.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] This is suspicious now. WHERE ARE YOU? >:(

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] Actually screw that. WHERE IS MY HOT FUDGE SUNDAE?

The screen blipped with yet another message.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] I know you’re reading these… Answer me or I won’t feed Princess Pebble!!

“J-Jun,” you piped up, hearing his low, husky mumble while he continued to mark your collarbone, “I think we need to go home now.”

The boy splayed a few more open-mouthed kisses against the skin before peeking up at you, his eyes wide and glimmering, lips flushed a deep magenta. With half the buttons of your shirt hanging open and your heart blazing, you had to snip the venereal longing in its bud.

“What’s wrong?” Jun hummed, pushing his fingers through the loops on your jeans. “Who’s texting?”

“Wonwoo. He’s been waiting for almost an hour, and his sundae is gonna be a puddle at this rate.”

He blinked a bit cluelessly, though still in musing. “There’s no way to be quick about this, is there?”

Rebuttoning your shirt, you shook your head and laughed. “Let’s wait before we ruin the car. I’m sure there’ll be a better time in the future.”

Jun nodded in agreement and relaxed back into the seat, a ray of sunshine that bled golden slanting through the windshield. Somehow, Wonwoo’s sundae wasn’t a complete pool sitting in the plastic cup, but that didn’t negate the fact he was still going to start his theory on responsibility and trust the moment you stepped onto the welcome mat. As you finished clasping the last buttons, something had caught Jun’s eye out the window, for he immediately panicked and tightly gripped your waist.

“Oh my god, g-get off my lap,” he grunted, to which your head bumped against the ceiling during the hurried shuffle and your knee whacked the gearstick.

“Ow! Okay, I’m going! Jeez, could you not give me a warning?”

“No,” Jun remarked, looking quickly to the rear-view mirror to straighten out his hair, “it’s Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They just came out of the store.”

When you glanced out Jun’s window, you noted the duo making their way across the parking lot, some plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from Jeonghan’s hand while Soonyoung appeared to be texting someone. To both your dismay, Soonyoung immediately recognized Jun’s car. You watched as the blonde bumped Jeonghan’s shoulder, how they took a slight detour on their way over.

“We have to talk to them?” You whined. “Are you kidding? Lock your window.”

Jun’s brow pinched together. “How is that going to help? They already saw us so just relax.”

“You’re telling me to relax? You practically threw me off your la—”

“Shht,” Jun snapped as the two boys drew nearer, “just shhhhht okay?” And with an incredibly large gulp, he plastered a happy-go-lucky smile to his mouth and let the window slide open.

“Jun?” Soonyoung called, leaning down slightly to peer inside the vehicle. “What’re you doing out here, huh? Back from shoplifting?”

Jeonghan bent down too, grinning snidely. “You looked a little frazzled or something.”

“Me?” Jun pointed at himself. “No, I’m fine. Just – we have to leave. Wonwoo is waiting.”

“Wonwoo?” Jeonghan seemed excited. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Hey, tell him I’m still appreciative for writing my World History paper on the Persian Empire.”

You knew it was best to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help your slight choke. Wonwoo had come home one day saying that one of his classmates offered him seventy-five bucks if he’d write their history paper. He wasn’t going to oblige originally, but cracked after listening to his classmate type out their introduction in the library, that it was just so bad Wonwoo felt piteous and decided to pitch in.

Gaping at Jeonghan, you exclaimed, “that was you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still dropped that class. And Wonwoo definitely thinks I’m a dumbass. But I didn’t have to do a spot of work, and now I’m getting smooth nineties in English. You just have to make up some shit and do a couple fancy indents and you’re set.”

Jeonghan paused, then leaned in a little further to look you up and down. “Y’know, I’ve never seen you before. How easily do you give out your numbe—”

“We really have to go,” Jun interrupted, already clicking the button to roll up the window, “see you at practice, Soonyoung. Bye Jeonghan!”

The two boys didn’t really have any other option apart from stepping back, allowing Jun to exit the parking space and turn onto the road. Not that it would help much, you turned on the air conditioning until it felt like the wind was pure ice, hoping that you’d be able to preserve Wonwoo’s melting fudge sundae. You made sure to text him on your whereabouts, that you were heading home, and churned up a white lie about how you ran into Jun’s friends who held a persistent conversation.

It wasn’t entirely false. And yet, Wonwoo still managed to see through it.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Just say you were making out.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Btw, I fed Princess Pebble.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: I’m not a sinner. Unlike you guys.

Later that evening, after delivering Wonwoo his melted cup of chocolate ice cream, after Jun quickly threw some extra clothes into his backpack and ran to his late-night dance practice, you were standing at the fish tank with some new plants you bought for your guppy. As the bright lights of the tank reflected across your face, there was a strange feeling inside you. It seemed like turbulence, confusion, your heart experiencing one sentiment but your brain thinking another.

You hadn’t realized you were absently standing there until Wonwoo came into the dark living room, holding a crumpled tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. Watching the pink fish swim in between her new seaweed arrangement, he asked you if there was an extra tube stored in your bedroom.

“Don’t think so. Text Jun and ask him to stop at the store when his practice ends.”

“I’ll do that…” Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, you know I already fed Princess Pebble?”

He accompanied you at the tank. For some reason, you refused to look at Wonwoo. You felt unusually vulnerable, like a fragile shell that could be cracked open even by the gentlest hands, and the more you thought into your emotions, the harder your heart started pounding.

“I-I know,” you smiled weakly, “but I got her some new plants today. I just put them in.”

Wonwoo could always tell when something was off-kilter. You almost hated how sharp his senses were, that he was able to detect with such accuracy how you were being eaten up inside. Softly, he touched your shoulder, urged you to turn toward him so he could see the honest colour in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

You felt terrified, but there was no sense in pretending.

“How do I tell Jun that I’m in love with him? That I don’t want us to be a secret anymore?”

It was a weighted question, and you knew that. But it was also the truth. As much as it could be invigorating to maintain a secret relationship, you were beginning to feel the brittle side effects that came with keeping such love behind closed doors. You didn’t want Jun to push you from his lap just because his friends might’ve seen you, nor did you want to keep an eye out for whether or not you should knock his hand off your thigh in public. The secrecy had been fun, but it wasn’t enough.

Scratching the blue collar of his shirt, Wonwoo appeared uncertain.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I just think you shouldn’t repress this. You need to be upfront.”

“How?” It sounded like a desperate plead. “I don’t know how, Wonwoo.”

“Stop overthinking it,” the boy advised, grabbing onto your shoulders and giving your frame a small, grounding shake, “you know Jun. You know he isn’t a rash person. You know if you tell him he’ll hear every word of it. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re all he thinks about.”

Wonwoo brushed at the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t hurt yourself like this, okay? The next time you’re alone, just say how you feel. I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re hypothesizing.”

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded. Overthinking was a poison to you. It shouldn’t be that difficult to be honest, especially when you knew how attentive Jun was, the manner in which he always adapted himself to be of a comforting presence.

“Okay,” you attempted to draw together some confidence, “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” The boy grinned, still fiddling with his empty tube of toothpaste. “It really doesn’t bother me that you guys run around together. Just… please… never do anything weird in my bed.”

The next time you were alone with Jun, it was all but a desirable circumstance. Once you came home from work and heated up some leftover dinner in the microwave, you decided to feed Princess Pebble, though your jaw unhinged as you noticed something a little unorthodox about her tank: a pink blotch floating against the surface of the water. Immediately, the tears welted hot and stinging against your eyes. You had to use the small net to scoop your guppy out from the water.

Remarkably, Princess Pebble had lived a long life for a fish. You remembered walking with Jun to the pet store one summer afternoon, after you two finished your last day of eleventh grade and had just escaped a brutal chemistry exam. Rather than studying beforehand, you spent ample time researching different types of fish, and would often send Jun pictures asking him to choose which one he thought was cutest. Yet, at the end of it all, you chose a guppy with the prettiest pink scales.

“Don’t most people want a puppy? A kitten? And you choose a boring fish.”

Jun had teased, sounding awkward and a bit lisped through his braces.

Somehow, Princess Pebble had managed to live a five-year lifespan. Wonwoo told you most guppies live for two years, three years if the owner takes good care. Sitting at the kitchen table, you placed her body onto a piece of paper towel, the thick tears dripping down your cheeks while your sinuses grew wet and congested. You didn’t know if it was petulant to be your age, crying over a pet fish. In fact, you didn’t even possess the heart to rise from the table and discard her body.

It wasn’t much longer until Jun returned home after his theatre class, to which you heard his key rattling in the lock. Wonwoo was scheduled for a shift at the cinema, most likely handing out overpriced popcorn and chocolate and having to reject every person who asked for his number.

“Hey,” he called, shouldering off his backpack, “Wonwoo texted me. That weird thriller we were looking at is playing next week. We should—,”

Jun paused the moment he heard your runny sniffling. He didn’t realize that your fish was sitting on the paper towel until he took a few steps closer. You felt embarrassed Jun had to see you like this. If you were crying, it had always been over something with a little more gravity, like the time you were distraught about flunking your laboratory practical, and Wonwoo couldn’t persuade you to open your bedroom door no matter how frequently he stood outside, pleading.

Plucking at the collar of your shirt, you used the fabric to clear away the tears. Without a word, Jun grabbed another chair from the dining table and pulled it next to you, scooting in close. As soon as you felt his arm drape around your shoulders, it was like someone had pulled the plug on a bathtub filled with water, to which you pressed your face against his neck and sobbed harder.

“I’m so sorry.” Jun whispered, hugging you tight to his comfortable chest. “It’s okay to be upset. I know how much she meant to you.”

He drew soothing strokes down the back of your head, and he sat with you until those wet pearls ran dry with salt. You knew it wasn’t wise to keep her body out in the air, that you would have to discard her somehow, yet the thought of having to flush her away seemed too cruel. Jun wiped the soft glisten from your cheeks with his sleeve, his fingers then tracing up and down the side of your face.

“I-I don’t want to flush her.” You blubbered.

The boy shook his head. “We won’t do that. We’ll find a good way to handle it.” His thumb brushed tenderly below the fragile skin of your eye for a moment, and he seemed to be in musing.

“Wait here.” He announced, suddenly running into his bedroom.

You could hear Jun shuffling through his closet, moving around clothing hangers and pushing aside boxes still filled with some of his old belongings from homelife in Shenzhen. When he remerged into the living room, he was holding a particular tissue box, one that you hadn’t seen since twelfth grade biology. You, Jun, and Wonwoo had painted and decorated the box as part of an optional project, to see if you could grow any plants from the packets of radish and tomato seeds your teacher had.

Nothing ever grew. Wonwoo claimed there had been some green sprouts when it was his turn to look after the makeshift garden, but that his cat snuck into his room and ate them all. Jun always kept a multitude of random things that dated back to your adolescence. As awkward and bumpy as those times were, seeing the tissue box reminded you that there had been precious moments too.

“Why do you still have that?” You laughed, even if your chest was aching.

“Because that was the first time us three did something together.” Jun said, returning to his seat beside you. “It was one of the first memories I made after moving away from home.”

You fondly looked at Jun while pulling the tissue box toward you, slathered in old, chipping acrylic paint and obnoxious, starry glitter.

Licking the dry salt off your lips, you smiled. “Princess Pebble would love this.”

“It can be her shrine. When Wonwoo comes home, we can find a good place to bury it.” Jun explained. “I know I called her boring five years ago, but I didn’t mean it. I loved her too.”

In the pensive silence, you thought back to your conversation with Wonwoo, recalling his firm grip on your shoulders as he reiterated the importance of freeing your heart, of not bogging yourself down with too many untold truths. Then, you glanced at Jun. You thought about that fluttering feeling when you kissed him, when you ran your fingers through his hair, listening to his deep-chested laughter whenever he gleefully buckled over into your lap after telling one of his hit-or-miss jokes.

The boy tensed slightly as you pulled him into a hug, though he quickly came to ease and warmth. You thanked him, because it just felt like the right thing to do for his compassion.

And then you told him something else.

“I love you.”

Without missing a heartbeat, he murmured against your hair, “I love you too.”

It was late, unreasonably late, the past-midnight late where the entire world falls still like an unperturbed pond. Downtown was completely hushed. Every so often the wind picked up, though it inevitably withered away in between the buildings and emerged a pitiful whistle onto the street. And yet, despite the fact you should be tucked in bed while the moon protected the silence in her silver hands, you were pushing outside the convenience shop with Jun close behind.

He took the end of a straw into his mouth and slurped at the sweet, cherry-flavoured slushie that was beginning to empty. Immediately, he crinkled his forehead and his face contorted.

“How many times have I said not to do that?” You laughed as he passed you the slippery cup.

“I don’t know. Three?” Jun replied with a grimace. “I can really feel it. Wait, I need a moment.”

You stopped next to the traffic post at the end of the street. Jun grabbed at his hair and squeezed like it was some miraculous remedy for curing a brain freeze. Directing the straw into your mouth, you sucked up the cherry syrup and crushed ice until you felt the distant ache thrum inside your head.

“Okay…” Jun concluded, brushing the long, black fringe from his eyes, “I’m good now.”

Thrusting the drink back into his hands, you couldn’t help but huff: “you’re such a baby.”

As though to prove your point, Jun started whining. “My head is so, so cold. It’s freezing.”

“So put this up or something.” You teased, reaching around the back of his neck to pull the boy’s hood over his head. Giggling slightly, you grinned at him as he shot you a questionable glance.

The streets remained quiet, and the sky was remarkably clear, no more than a few ragged and thin clouds drifting over the stars. The last time you had been on this corner, you were licking the strawberry sugar off your fingertips while Jun crumpled his last packet of popping candy. You remembered tracing the rose tint that warmed his lips, each fibre in your muscle twitching because you just wanted to wrap a hand through his locks and kiss him like he was your last breath.

You didn’t understand how you could love one person so much. Why love often fused itself into your bloodstream more than functionality. Your heart knew how to beat, yet it stumbled whenever you gazed at him. Your lungs knew how to filter the air, yet they closed up whenever you caught his eye. Your tongue knew how to articulate, yet it tied itself in a knot the moment he’d touch you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, patting his arm, “can I ask you something?”

Jun looked away from the stars, sipping at his drink again. He nodded.

The moon probably wanted to crush your heart in her hands for how loudly it was thumping.

“What if I told you that I want people to know we’re together? What would you say?”

Despite your anxiousness, you weren’t as afraid as you anticipated. Maybe it was because Jun didn’t immediately sour or attempt to disparage your sentiments. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he blinked at you, but it didn’t matter. When it was most important, Jun picked his words carefully.

“I’d tell you that I want the same thing,” he admitted, his tone deepening and the amber in his cheeks sparked with pink, “that I want people to know how I feel about you… That I’ve always been in love with you.”

You smiled wide, like a kid who just got their braces off. Unable to contain such a rapturous energy, you stepped in close to Jun and held onto his shoulders, dotting the corners of his mouth with small kisses before you pressed your lips against his. You felt him smirk, though it seemed too devious. Jun had suddenly wrapped his arms around your lower back, pushing you in chest-to-chest. You melted as he kissed you, your fingertips ghosting along the soft hairs at his nape, the moonlight on your skin.

When you arrived back at the apartment, you could hear a few of Wonwoo’s gentle snores echo from behind the bedroom door. Just before you slipped away into your own room, Jun left a goodnight kiss to the top of your head, his hand thoughtfully squeezing your hip.

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

You finally knew what you should have said.

“Because I love you.”

✧✎ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET PRINCE!! never would i have imagined that someone who’s on the opposite side of the globe could mean so much to me ;_; mr. moon has been such a healing presence, and it’s bc of him that i have found so much happiness these past five years! whenever i see him smiling and laughing and have good ol times just being himself, all my worrisome thoughts somehow fade away and i feel only joy!!

anyways, i don’t want to ramble for too long (i could really fill a page with my cloying sentiments r.i.p) but i hope this was a wholesome fic!! the stars aligned and for once i was able to write a fic for a member’s birthday :_)

#svt fanfic #jun scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jun fic #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #jun imagine #jun x reader #svt x reader #wen junhui #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #junhui scenarios #jun fluff #junhui fic

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