#i never took one and neither did my friends but I'd bet it all on the probability of it being the KJV new testaments | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cha-melodius · 2 years ago

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Hiii, congratulations on your milestones! I am not very good at prompts buuuut how about Napollya + some creepy abandoned house? Or a cemetery. Idk, it's not Halloween but I'm feeling spooky loool Feel free to go paranormal with it <3

(Outsmarted tumblr to answer this lmao. You said go paranormal and my brain said 'what about rival paranormal investigators??' Mark this down as another AU concept I never thought I'd write. Hope you enjoy it!)

chamel’s fandom fest info | read all the fics

The Harrowed and the Haunted

(napollya, 2.7k, T; read it below or on AO3)

The tiny blue car is already there when they arrive, tucked off to one side of the gigantic, decrepit mansion, and Napoleon swears under his breath.

“How did he even know we were coming here?” he complains. “No one knows this place.”

“Everyone knows about this place, Solo,” Gaby sighs from the passenger seat. “It’s a local legend. And you weren’t exactly subtle when you teased it as our next location in the podcast.”

Napoleon twists in his seat to look at her. “You think he listens to the podcast?”

She levels a look at him that he doesn’t know how to interpret. “You two are hopeless,” she says instead of answering him, then unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car.

She’s already elbows deep into the equipment by the time he walks to the back end of the car, so he elects not to push her on what she means. Besides, the one time he’d tried, she ended up on some long tirade about how they’re obsessed with each other and it would be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating and also if she didn’t have to listen to him all the time. To which he had responded that she’s his best friend and morally obligated to listen to him complain about his nemesis.

Also, he’s not obsessed with Illya Kuryakin.

Yes, Napoleon watches all the videos Illya posts and reads all the stories he publishes on his blog. Of course he does, Illya is the competition. Napoleon has to keep up with the locations he’s visiting and the kinds of footage he’s getting so that he knows how best to make his own superior content. Because Napoleon has a secret weapon that means his videos are always in better resolution, with wider shots so you can see that he’s not just using tricks, and his data are more robust. That secret weapon is Gaby and the completely bonkers ghost detecting equipment that she builds.

Napoleon had been a skeptic when he started doing paranormal investigation; his whole schtick was proving that there weren’t ghosts in the places where the other guys had recorded their sightings. Then he’d met Gaby at a convention and she’d bet him fifty bucks that she could show him a site that not only had ghosts, but also that she could prove it with hard science. He’d been intrigued despite himself, and their partnership was born. The friendship came about fifteen minutes into that first trip, when it became obvious that they shared a similarly sarcastic, dark sense of humor and brutally pragmatic outlook on life.

Together, they still spend the majority of their time proving that locations aren’t haunted, but occasionally things happen neither of them can explain. Not that he’s convinced that the explanation is actually ghosts, but it’s certainly something outside the realm of known science. With Gaby’s help, his business really took off: there’s the YouTube channel that he started with, but now they have a wildly successful podcast as well. The Discovery Channel has made overtures about a show. Things are good.

At least they are when Illya Kuryakin isn’t around.

Illya came out of nowhere with his blog Prizraki and a fledgling YouTube channel of his own. He shouldn’t have ever drawn an audience because he has zero camera presence, for all his good looks. He’s not even in his own videos all that much since he’s a one-man operation. But. The man can write. The way he crafts a story, the sheer atmosphere of it—he more than makes up for the shoddy camerawork and rudimentary editing. Napoleon had thought his work would be easy to discredit, but Illya is thorough. Meticulous. Irritating, especially when he anticipates Napoleon’s next move and makes it his job that much harder. Napoleon would swear Illya has it out for him specifically.

So yeah, they don’t get along. Their rivalry is well-known among the paranormal investigation community at this point. And if he spends an inordinate amount of time following Illya’s content, it’s only because he has to, professionally. He certainly doesn’t enjoy it.

They find the man himself on the second floor, apparently scanning one of the rear bedrooms. He’s hunched over his device, which is emitting a random-sounding beeping as he moves slowly across the room. Napoleon and Gaby had been led there by the readouts on their own equipment, although things start going all funny once they get into the room. Napoleon is pretty sure it’s just the interference from Illya’s shitty gear.

“Got tired of coming up with your own ideas, Peril?” Napoleon says as they walk in, the ancient floorboards creaking under their feet.

Illya doesn’t bother to look away from his scan. “Don’t know what you are talking about,” he mutters. He finishes a sweep of the far wall and pauses. “I have plans to investigate this property for months. Check my website if you don’t believe me.”

Napoleon doesn’t, because he’s read every word of that blog and he never mentioned this property. Not that he’s going to tell Illya this.

His nemesis finally straightens and turns toward them, his usual sour expression somehow failing to keep him from being ridiculously, irritatingly gorgeous. Napoleon would wager that at least half of his subscribers are only there for the occasional eye candy. And look, Napoleon knows his own looks bring him hits—leverages it, specifically—but Illya pretends to be above all that, which is annoying. After all, his numbers had shot up rapidly after that one video where he’d somehow ended up shirtless while investigating some kind of haunted bog (and if Napoleon had watched that one any more than the others, it was only because he couldn’t get over the idea of a haunted bog, that’s all).

“I take it you haven’t found anything yet,” Napoleon counters, looking around the room. It’s largely empty at this point, save for a massive wardrobe that’s probably too heavy to move, the florid wallpaper faded and yellowed by time and marked by no small amount of water damage. “Not that I fault you for that, given your equipment.”

“I have found plenty—”

“Solo,” Gaby interrupts. She’s across the room, and when he turns to look she’s tucking her own scanner away and sliding a hand over the seemingly featureless wall. “I think there’s something here.”

Jackpot. Napoleon quickly crosses over to where she stands and starts carefully inspecting the wallpaper, his competitor all but forgotten behind them. Well, almost. The seam is well hidden, but it’s there, and Napoleon feels out the secret panel within minutes. When a door pops open, he turns back toward Illya and smirks with immense satisfaction.

“What was that about finding things?”

Illya just about growls at him.

“Look, while you two have this little pissing contest, I’m gonna go get my auxiliary power block,” Gaby announces before they can get going again. “There are some really wacky readings going on here and I think I’m going to need the boost.”

With that, she disappears out the door, and a moment later they can hear the clunk of her boots on the wooden steps.

“So, you are planning on leaving, right?” Napoleon asks.

“I was here first,” Illya grits out, and then the asshole just storms right past Napoleon and into the secret passageway, like he has any right to it.

Napoleon follows him, because he can’t not. The passage is narrow, barely wider than the span of either of their shoulders, and nearly pitch black save for the illumination provided by their flashlights and the meager light that filters in from the main room. The house is enough of a labyrinth that it could go almost anywhere; it’s promising, for sure.

“Only because you knew we were coming here,” Napoleon calls after him.

Illya stops a short ways down the passage and turns to glare at him. “You cannot prove that.”

“And we found the secret passage,” Napoleon continues. “If we weren’t here you’d still be going around in circles, chasing your own tail.”

“The discovery was inevitable. Maybe you sped it along, but now you are just in the way.”

Jesus Christ, this is going nowhere. Fine, Napoleon can be the magnanimous one, especially if he can use it later to argue that Illya was unreasonable. “Look, you wanna investigate right now, be my guest, but you can’t be here when Gaby gets back. Your equipment causes too much interference.”

Illya hesitates a beat. “She said you were getting strange readings. What kind?”

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Napoleon scoffs.

“Did you have to learn to be this much of an asshole, or were you born this way?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who—”

He doesn’t get to finish that thought, because suddenly it sounds like every door in the house slams at once, including the one to the bedroom that they’d left open. They both jump a mile, startled out of their skins, and Napoleon whirls to look behind him, though of course there’s nothing there.

“Wind gust?” he tries weakly.

He doesn’t even blame Illya for the exasperated look he gets in response. They both know there hadn’t been even a light breeze, plus, he can feel it. Illya probably can too. There’s something about the atmosphere that makes his skin crawl and his hair stand up on end, and as a professional ghost hunter, that’s not easy to do. He’s learned to trust his gut, and it’s telling him something is definitely hinky here. He walks back over to the door, but there’s no handle on the inside, which seems like poor design for a secret passageway.

“Not getting out this way,” he tells Illya. “Maybe the other side?”

“We don’t know where it goes,” Illya counters. “Should we not just wait for Gaby to return?”

He’s got a point, but Napoleon really doesn’t like being cooped up in here. He’s not claustrophobic, but there’s a closeness to the air that goes beyond what can be explained by the narrow space. Not that he’s going to let on what’s driving his decision.

“Wait if you like,” he says with a shrug. “I’m going to do what I came here to do.”

Except Illya is standing between him and the rest of the passage, which is really not large enough for the two of them to easily pass by each other. Still, there’s nothing for it; Napoleon starts walking toward him, assuming Illya will get out of the way, only when he’s less than a stride from the other man, he trips.

He’d like to pretend the floorboards were uneven, but it feels like something fucking winds around his ankle, effectively binding his legs and sending him sprawling into Illya. At nearly the same time, there’s a loud pop and the bulbs in both of their flashlights just about explode in a shower of sparks. The end result is that Illya is too surprised or too distracted to stay upright himself, and they tumble to the ground in a heap with none-too-few curses in both English and Russian.

“Get off of me,” Illya protests, trying to shove Napoleon away, and Napoleon would like to, truly, but one of Illya’s elbows caught him in the diaphragm and he can’t exactly breathe at the moment.

“Gimme a fucking minute,” he manages, trying to catch his breath while simultaneously ignoring how he’s managed to land pretty much astride one of Illya’s very muscular thighs. There’s not exactly a lot of room here for him to maneuver, anyway, and in the pitch dark the very last thing he wants to do is put a hand somewhere it shouldn’t go. He manages to fish his phone out of his pocket, hoping for an alternative light source, only to find it won’t turn on. “Damn. Phone’s dead.”

“Think it was an EMP,” Illya groans. “Will knock out—”

“I know what an EMP is,” Napoleon snaps, then he sighs heavily. “I don’t suppose you have a lighter?”

Illya doesn’t answer, but a moment later there’s a faint snick and a small flame flickers to life, washing the two of them and the passageway in a faint orange glow. It also reveals the deep scowl on Illya’s face. “Now will you get off?”

“Aw, but I was just starting to enjoy myself,” Napoleon teases. And then, because he can’t resist an opportunity to fluster the other man in any way possible, he gives his hips a little wiggle.

Something flashes in Illya’s gaze, though he can’t quite read it in the flickering light. “Do not start something you do not intend to finish, Cowboy,” he growls.

Which is— Napoleon cannot have heard that right. He hit his head on the way down, maybe, except for the fact that he knows he didn’t; he landed on Illya’s ample chest, which he still hasn’t really moved from. Their faces are no more than a handful of inches apart. Illya takes a deep breath in and out under him, and the thigh between Napoleon’s shifts slightly. Napoleon licks his lips, and Illya’s eyes follow the movement.

“Who says I don’t?” Napoleon manages, his voice tighter than he’d like. “And what about you? I thought you hated me.”

“Too pretty,” Illya murmurs. “Annoyingly so. Anyway, you hated me first.”

Napoleon can’t help the soft puff of laughter that escapes him. “Gaby says I’m obsessed with you.”

“Is that so?” Illya asks with a smirk that Napoleon would kind of like to bite.

“I’m not,” Napoleon protests, but he doesn’t get a chance to get any more out because Illya tugs him down into a kiss.

Napoleon shocks himself by kissing him back, tilting his head until their mouths fit perfectly together, letting his arms go out from under him until his body is fully pressed up against Illya’s again. It’s hard and it’s fast and it’s filthy, and Napoleon can’t get enough of it. Illya’s hands go to his waist then slide down to his ass, which he grabs enthusiastically, pulling Napoleon’s hips closer as his rock up against Napoleon’s thigh.

He never thought— never let himself think— Fuck. He wants Illya Kuryakin so badly he can hardly breathe, which is a pretty fucking novel revelation right about now. He doesn’t even notice that Illya has dropped the lighter, plunging them into darkness, until there’s a loud creak outside the passageway and the door rattles in its frame.

They startle apart, or at least try to; Napoleon attempts a roll sideways, but there’s not really any place to go, so he just kind of ends up jammed next to Illya, his heart climbing into his throat because he’d maybe gotten so caught up in the moment that he’d forgotten that they’re in a fucking abandoned house that supposedly haunted, with actual weird phenomena happening around them, and he’d really rather not die—

The door rattles again, then swings open to reveal Gaby holding a lantern in one hand and her bag of equipment in the other. She takes one look at them and her eyebrows climb all the way up to her hair.

“Oh, thank god,” Napoleon exhales heavily. “You didn’t get hit by the EMP?”

Gaby frowns at him. “What EMP?”

“The one that exploded our flashlights and turned our phones into bricks.”

“That’s not how EMPs work,” she says flatly. “Care to explain how that relates to… literally any of this?”

Napoleon winces. “Not really?”

The look she gives him quite clearly says that he’s not getting out of any part of said explanation, even if she’s willing to let it go for the moment. “So. Ghosts?”

“Apparently so,” Napoleon groans as he attempts to extract himself now that he can actually see where he’s going.

“And we’re… collaborating?” she asks, looking pointedly at Illya.

Napoleon glances over to find Illya staring at him uncertainly, which is probably fair considering they’ve discussed precisely nothing about this. Still. He looks back at Gaby.

“Apparently so.”

~~~~~

(The Haunting of McAllister Mansion is their first joint video, published simultaneously on both channels; it breaks all their previous records for views, likes, and comments.

The latter are split between people confused because they were sure Napoleon and Illya hated each other, and those who just comment: called it.)

#napollya #napoleon x illya #tmfu #the man from uncle #the man from u.n.c.l.e.#napoleon solo #illya kuryakin #tmfu fic #tmfu fanfic #napollya fic #napollya fanfic #chamel's fandom fest #my fic

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ting-tang · 4 months ago

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The breeze so gently touches your soul, so smooth you don't know he's there.....whispers to your soul listening to the lies that been told....ive never been worried and neither has he. There is nothing to hide when you don't lie. They always read the "issue", and this time it isn't you nor me, it's them.

I follow the "boss", " MY BOSS" can never go wrong then...

Something happened they fucked around with what they did not understand with bad intentions evil to present its self. I said "no, no I don't wanna be a part of this, I could fuck a life up...they brought a wager to the table that's when my demon took that bet. (It would be considered a bet) your quiet, clever trevor!!!

Everyone doesn't listen to him, probably 5 left with him he's the reason my life was put on the line. Boss Man always keeps track of my real-time... EVIL NEVER WINNS-EVER!! Keep real and 99.9% rite ALWAYS. In my oppinion, bring him back with honors. I'm proven to be brutally honest leaven out brutal. He definitely mistakes my kindness for weakness silly boy.

Ik, ik he's gone wherever he is, riding with snake I'm kuul with that....whose the liar??

MY HEART DONT BREAK BOYZZ!! NEVER. You might think them bird wings make you fly,and fast at that. I've got bat wings they don't move from where they at.

My best man, her maid of honor, we all trust that and passing it back." Can you catch dressed like that????"

Taken advantage of her trust, thought you were a man... men don't throw a girl in the fire shitt that bitch came out that flame as a pheonex. Your word is your honor, (that's all a man really has) you have no word as you have no honor-the breeze. Thought you'd have something to say, I trained that girl she is me and I is she. When she says about her best friend, you should have thought, the muther fucker will chew your face off...

"Unleashing him is not an option." He said.

You and your "pals" hurt her on purposes continuesly.....

I'd be more afraid of her, "said the breeze.

The real animals tame as fuck, just say jump. Just as mean as him ain't bn one time I ain't fought by his side.as he the same for me. Shhitt bitch I ain't just taken phones I'm taken the fucken wifi eat a dick. Lucky for you I'm a lady and DO NOT EVER HALF TO SWEAT AGAIN. Amen.

Call your pastrami friend ALL OF THEM KNOW your fucking serial creditors who everytime the mouths open lies flud evil infecting families. Prime example, MY SHITT AINT FREE.

“The sky is everywhere, it begins at your feet.”

— Jandy Nelson, The Sky Is Everywhere

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years ago

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𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 10: all the love in the world. FINALE.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - the end is just the beginning.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - over 10k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - SMUT (18+ only, I warned y'all from the beginning), emotions, angst, fluff, more stepcesty stuff, brief pregnancy mention/discussion, reader's mom gets a first name sorry if that breaks the illusion for anyone

(thank you to everyone who read this series, it's been such an adventure and I'm glad I could take you with me <3)

Eddie cleared his throat as he stood in front of the crowd gathered in the backyard— small, but still a crowd. "Well, um, hi," he waved at the seated guests, most of whom waved back. "Bet you never thought you'd see me in a suit, right?"

Scattered, polite laughs rippled through the group.

"Um, neither did I. And I never thought I'd see the day that my uncle got married, either, but here we are. Wayne's never had much luck with the ladies— I guess it's proof we're related, right?" he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck briefly. "Anyways— I knew something was different when he came home from dinner with a 'friend' —" Eddie gestured with dramatic air quotes— "and couldn't stop smiling. I've got some pretty great friends but, they don't make me smile like that."

He glanced at you, and you offered your best reassuring smile-and-thumbs-up combo.

"He told me a couple days later that he'd met this woman,” Eddie continued, glancing down at the cards again. “Apparently he helped her find something at the hardware store. I was so happy for him that I resisted the urge to make an insensitive joke about if he was going to 'nail' her."

You snorted out an embarrassed laugh, and you caught your mom’s expression: clearly a little shocked, but thankfully, amused.

"And, uh, I met her a couple weeks later, and she said she liked my hair,” Eddie recalled. “So I knew she was cool. But most of all, I knew she was right for my uncle. He's a pretty stoic guy— and I don't think I've ever seen him laugh in my entire life the way he can laugh in one night with Donna. They're so right for each other it's nuts. It hasn't been an easy road to today for either of them. I think some people think you can only love one person in your life, but they're wrong: you can have an amazing life, and an amazing family, and an amazing daughter with someone…"

Your heart was in your throat already.

"...and you can still find happiness with someone else down the line. And I can’t think of anyone more deserving of that than you, Donna."

Shit. You were worried about crying during your own speech. You hadn’t even considered that you might cry over Eddie’s.

"Donna, you're too nice for your own good. You took me in just because you love my uncle so much— and that says everything about the kind of person you are. You've given me a roof over my head, you've given me way more credit than I deserve, and you've given me a really cool sister. She's actually cooler than me, which is annoying."

You laughed a little, but bit your lip when a sob almost came out.

"Wayne— I won't say too much because I'm not about to cry in front of all these people. I think everything I really need to say, you already know. But in case you don't… you're more of a dad to me than my father’s even been. I’d be in the clink or in a ditch somewhere if you hadn’t been there to straighten me out. I know I didn’t always make it easy on you… actually, I almost never made it easy on you. You taught me almost everything I know, except the guitar— and I’m gonna need you to teach me how to find such an amazing lady, and how to make it last. Deal?”

Wayne nodded at him, and the guests clapped politely as Eddie left his place standing in front of them to give his uncle a hug and his new aunt-slash-mother-figure a kiss on the cheek. On shaky legs, you stood up and hoped you could find some way to follow that.

Your heart raced as you found yourself facing all those guests; last time you’d been standing in front of them all, you’d been behind your mother at the altar, so they were all looking at her. Now you were alone and had all their attention to yourself; Eddie took his seat and shot you a thumbs up before you started.

You glanced down at your notes, holding onto them for dear life. Thank everyone for coming & joke about beer, the first line of the first index card read.

“Well,” you began, feeling your heart rate pick up, “I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming. It means so much to us that you’re here, and I know you all wouldn’t miss an opportunity for free beer.”

It was a safe joke, and it got a safe laugh, and you looked at the next line for guidance: When Mom first met Wayne…

“When Mom first met Wayne,” you repeated, “she… actually didn’t tell me.”

That seemed to surprise a few people.

“I guess she was afraid that I wouldn’t approve, either of him or of her dating again at all. Sadly, her fears weren’t… totally misplaced,” you admitted, cringing slightly. “But only because, when it comes to any man who wants to be in my mom’s life, I have incredibly high standards. And anyone who knew my father knows why.”

You flipped to the next card. DAD it said at the top, with more notes of the points you wanted to cover beneath. You froze, wondering if you had the strength to go on with what you’d written.

“Um… after my dad passed away…” you started, voice getting a bit weaker— they were all staring at you, that was something you hadn’t properly appreciated when you were preparing this speech, that they’d all be staring like this. “It was hard, obviously. It’s not easy for anyone to lose a partner, or a parent. I know it was harder on my mom than she let on— she was trying to be strong for me. And I was just trying to pretend like everything was fine. But it wasn’t, and we were both hurting a lot. Our family was… broken, it was missing something. And, of course, no one could fill the space my dad left behind— but I didn’t know someone could make my mom that happy again.”

Shakily, you put the card at the back of the stack and stared at the next heading: WAYNE. Hard working, compassionate and passionate, nicer than he looks.

“Wayne, though, is truly a special man. He’s hard-working, compassionate and passionate, and I’ve learned that he’s not as intimidating as he looks,” you smiled. “I wouldn’t have blamed him at all for basically ignoring me completely— he knows I’m not a kid anymore, and he knows he doesn’t exactly need my approval to be with my mom. But, he also knows how important we are to each other, and he’s been nothing but supportive of me. Congrats, Mom, you might’ve gotten one of the last good ones.”

Again, polite laughter for an easy joke— if perhaps a bit more feminist than your average piece of wedding-speech-humor— but when you glanced up, you caught a smirk on Eddie’s face.

You looked down at your cards again, turning to the next one. EDDIE it said at the top… but the rest was blank. Fuck, you’d been putting off this part to the very last second— and the last second passed about ten minutes ago. You let out a nervous “um” as you stalled, trying to imagine what the fuck you could possibly say about Eddie. “A-and, well,” you choked, “what could I say about Eddie… that hasn't already been said over police radios all across the county."

They laughed, but you only cared if Eddie laughed at that one, so you'd know if you'd gone too far. You heard his laugh first and loudest, and you smiled to yourself.

"But, in all seriousness: Eddie, you're…" you trailed off again. You looked at him, which was a huge mistake; the way he was looking at you was just overwhelming. You glanced down at your cards again quickly. "You're definitely one of a kind," you decided, "and I'm… really, really lucky to have you in my life."

The crowd was filled with awwws, but you refused to look up from that blank index card. It was your only protection now— you felt terribly vulnerable in front of everyone, admitting things you hadn't even admitted to yourself. You took a deep, but shaky, breath in and out.

"They say you can't choose your family," you continued. "And even in this case, when we're not actually related, it's true. But— but I'd choose you anyways."

For a second, you almost thought Eddie was tearing up, but he was looking down and it was dark out already, so you couldn’t quite tell. You flipped to your last index card. Close out.

“It’s so special to be with you all here tonight,” you nodded, “celebrating Mom and Wayne— the hottest couple in Hawkins. Cheers!”

Glasses raised and clinked, and you gave your mom and your new stepfather a hug on your way back to your own seat.

As the night progressed, dinner turned to dancing and slightly heavier drinking— although it turns out older crowds don’t go quite as bananas for free alcohol as high school and college students do, shockingly.

“Can I get you a drink?” Eddie asked you after finding you keeping mostly to yourself in the corner.

“I’m, uh, not much of a drinker,” you informed him.

“Will you come dance with me?” he asked next.

“I’m not much of a dancer, either,” you laughed.

“Neither am I,” he assured with a laugh, extending a hand out to you. “Just come with me.”

You gave him a look. “What’s with the insistence?”

“I want you to have fun, is that so terrible?” he pressed.

“Since when is dancing with you ‘fun’?” you noticed.

He gave you a wide grin as one song faded out, and the next one began: Into The Groove by Madonna, the one Eddie had heard you singing along to loudly in your room however long ago. “I know you dance to this one,” he smirked.

Groaning in defeat, but smiling a bit as the guilty pleasure song played, you took his hand and let him drag you to the middle of the yard. Of course, for a song like this, dancing together is more just dancing near each other, but he was right— it was fun.

“I’m tired of dancing here all by myself, tonight I wanna dance with someone else!” the lyrics announced as you and Eddie bounced around uncoordinatedly; maybe you looked sort of stupid, but hey, you already had the uncomfortable fluff of a Pepto Bismol pink dress on so it wasn’t like you were ever at risk of looking elegant or anything…

Thankfully the weather was nice and the dark evening was getting even cooler, so working up some heat dancing this way actually served as a protection from the chilly breeze— Eddie had a flush on his face by the time the song was almost over, a rosy tint over his nose and cheeks and the slightest shine on his forehead from the exertion.

In a few minutes, the music changed, from fast and upbeat to something slow and gentle— you recognized it as soon as that familiar voice began to croon: “I can hear so much in your sighs, and I can see so much in your eyes…”

You smiled a little, remembering singing along to The Beach Boys when Eddie was practicing his guitar. You thought instantly that this song would sound so much better if he were singing it instead, even if you loved the original.

Some people left the dance floor, some couples got up to dance, but everyone had stopped the energetic dancing and had begun to move much more slowly, holding each other… it was all very romantic, except that you were just standing there staring at Eddie as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“There are words we both could say…”

He cleared his throat, and when he opened his mouth, you were so afraid he was about to make an excuse to leave. I’m gonna get a beer, you want one? or I should check in on the happy couple or something— and, hoping to stop him, you suddenly put your hands on his shoulders.

Looking at you again, he blinked those brown eyes quickly but stepped closer to you anyways. Your hands were still on his shoulders, but you never actually found the strength to push him away, so he put his hands on your waist and suddenly you were slow dancing. “But don’t talk, put your head on my shoulder…”

Your breathing was shaky and you hoped he wouldn’t notice; his thumb moved slightly where it held your waist through your dress, and you felt every touch amplified by your anxiety-awakened skin.

“Come close, close your eyes and be still,” the gentle singing played from the speakers, “take my hand and let me hear your heartbeat.”

Hesitating at first, you leaned your head forward and let it rest on his chest; he tilted his head down to look at you, but you didn’t look back at him, you just couldn’t take that right now. You really could hear his heartbeat, even without pressing your ear right up to him, even through the white button-up dress shirt; it was strong and fast, and your eyes fell shut.

“Being here with you feels so right, we could live forever tonight,” the song continued, “let's not think about tomorrow and don't talk, put your head on my shoulder—”

Swaying together, you felt Eddie hold you a little tighter, but he could never hold you tight enough. He could never hold you long enough.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and you blinked your eyes quickly so you could lean back and look up at him.

“For what?” you wondered.

“Being nice to me,” he replied. “Just for tonight— you can be mean again tomorrow.”

You laughed a little, looking down at where his shiny black shoes stepped in time with your pink kitten heels. But then you felt his hand on your waist squeeze gently again and you sighed. Silence returned, but it wasn’t awkward, just… quiet. Except for, you know, the music, which went on as you danced together.

“Don’t talk, put your head on my shoulder…”

When the song ended all too soon, you stepped back slightly and looked up at Eddie, wondering if he could see everything in your eyes— it felt like he could, it looked like he could with the way he was looking back at you.

There was only a second of silence before the next song came on, and the melody played on plunky synths gave it away instantly as Take My Breath Away by Berlin. You exhaled a quick laugh and Eddie took his hands off your back. “I hate this song,” you announced.

“Me too,” he agreed, “so cheesy.”

You nodded and crossed one arm over your chest to hold the other nervously, starting to awkwardly glance around the reception.

“Wanna get out of here?” he offered, and you looked up at him.

“Eddie, we can’t leave,” you said when you realized what he was suggesting.

“Yeah we can,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, “just for a few minutes— they won’t even notice.”

You hesitated before nodding; “Y-yeah, sure…”

He grabbed your wrist and guided you across the yard to the fence, specifically the darkest corner of the fence where he took a cursory glance to make sure no one was looking before lacing his fingers together and holding them down for you. “Here,” he offered, tilting his head towards the fence.

You started to lift your foot before you put it on the ground again. “Wait. You’re not gonna look up my skirt, are you?”

He sighed. “Do you really think so little of me, sweetheart?”

Sufficiently guilted, you stepped on his hands and let him give you a lift up so you could grab the top of the fence, just barely getting the leverage you needed to pull one leg over.

“Ooh, cute lace,” he praised lasciviously.

“God damn it,” you hissed, flinging yourself over and managing to land upright on both feet on the other side— it was easier to get down this way because a hill was just starting and the ground was a bit higher. Eddie hauled himself up a moment later, jumping down onto the other side and dusting himself off afterwards.

You walked up the hill together as he promised to take you to some place he knew about— you just hoped it wasn’t too far, because these silken flats weren’t exactly built for distance.

It wasn’t far at all, actually; it was just past the treeline, over the highest point of the hill, and when Eddie guided you out to where he’d stopped, you gasped at the view. From here, you could see nearly all of Hawkins— twinkling lights in rows and columns, cars driving down streets, the old church, the town hall—

“Oh my god,” you breathed. “From here, it almost doesn’t look like the shittiest little town ever.”

He laughed. “I know, right?”

“When did you find this place?” you asked.

He sat down on the grass and patted beside him for you to sit, too. “Well,” he began as you tried to find a comfortable way to sit in the dress, “it must’ve been about a week after I moved in. I went on a walk and sorta just stumbled on it.”

You laughed and sighed simultaneously, shaking your head. “I’ve lived here for years, and never knew I was one hill away from the best view of the town; you’re here a week and you find this.”

“I think your problem is you have all these amazing things right in front of you,” he decided, “but you don’t know how to look for them.”

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor?” you pressed.

He shrugged. “It’s just something I noticed.”

A long lull fell in the conversation while the two of you looked out over the lights of Hawkins. The music from the reception seemed to follow the wind, and with a gust of breeze, you heard guitars and melodic singing: Josie’s on a vacation far away, come around and talk it over…

You laughed, just to yourself, but then started to laugh harder until you were holding your stomach and falling back into the grass.

“What?” Eddie laughed with you. “What’s so funny?”

You tried to tell him, but you were laughing too hard to make sense.

“Come on,” he whined, and you composed yourself enough to string a sentence together.

“I hated you,” you laughed, “god, I hated you in high school! You were so… loud! And you didn’t care what anyone thought of you— and back then, I thought that was a bad thing, I thought it was impossible. And now— now that nothing can ever happen with us, of course that’s when I start falling for you.”

You didn’t even care that you’d said it, you didn’t even care that he was looking at you that way or that it felt like getting stabbed in the chest. Your laughter stopped, and you bit your lip to keep it from turning into tears.

“And I just think that’s funny,” you concluded.

“Yeah,” he smiled, looking down at the ground, “yeah, it is funny.”

You were looking out at the horizon, the lights all over Hawkins going out as stores closed and families went to bed and your sleepy little town really slept, when Eddie scooted a little closer to you.

“One question,” he requested. “Uh… remind me why nothing can ever happen with us?”

“‘Cause my mom, and your uncle,” you sighed. Your eyes glanced down at your legs, seeing his stretched out beside them, one ringed hand resting on his bent knee as the other kept him propped up in the grass. “They’re married, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “they really love each other, huh?”

You nodded.

“Wayne told me when he was gonna propose to your mom,” Eddie said suddenly. “I asked him what he was gonna say, and he said, ‘I’m just gonna tell her the truth.’”

You smiled. “That’s why they work. The truth is exactly what she needs.”

“What do you need?”

You looked down at the grass. “I… I don’t know.”

"Maybe," he whispered, "I could finally tell you the truth, too."

You gave him an expectant stare, and he coughed a bit, but continued.

“Okay, well, the truth is,” Eddie began, “I like who I am when I’m with you. I know you don’t, really, but… I do. And when I’m not with you, I’m usually thinking about you. ‘Usually’ as in, ‘always’.”

As he looked at you, searching your expression for some reaction, he leaned in a little closer.

“And I had a bit of a thing for you in high school— I mean, as much as I could, without ever talking to you,” he added. “Except that one time.”

You remembered it well, normally, but suddenly you forgot everything you ever knew as he moved even closer, his face right in front of yours, his eyes giving you a look that made you shiver.

“And I love you,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I love you,” he kissed the other, “I love you.”

He kissed just beside your nose, and you whimpered: “Eddie—”

He held your face in both his hands, pulling back to look at you closely. “No, don’t break my heart just yet. Let me tell you one more time. I love you.”

You took a shaky breath. “I thought you hated me,” you whispered.

He looked hurt, and as a tear fell from your eye, he wiped it away with his thumb. “No, no baby— how could you think that?”

“Because…” you trailed off. “Because the way I love you makes me hate myself.”

With him giving you that devastated look, you figured you had to continue before you made it too much worse.

“You’re everything I wish I could be,” you explained, “you’re crazy and you’re confident and you’re free. You don’t care what people think. And I’m—”

“Uptight, self-conscious, and perfectionistic?” he finished, and you frowned.

“Hey…” you mumbled defensively, looking down, but he lifted your face again.

“Those are all the things I love about you,” he explained. “I love everything about you. I knew how you felt about me back then— it didn’t stop me from having a massive crush on you.”

“First it’s a ‘bit of a thing’, now it’s a ‘massive crush’?” you noticed with a raised eyebrow, and he laughed as his cheeks tinted.

“Can’t get anything past you, huh?” he sighed. “Yeah, I was really into you. I told myself that you were really this creative, passionate, wild-and-crazy sort of girl beneath the goody-two-shoes shell— that you were just waiting for someone to break you out of that prison you built for yourself. And I imagined that it was me, that one day you’d ask me for something and we would start talking and you would end up begging me to take you away from it all. To steal you from that asshole Gary and sweep you off your feet— and we would get in the van and leave it all behind. Fuck Hawkins, fuck high school, fuck everybody.”

You sniffled, clutching at his tuxedo jacket’s lapel. “Eddie…” you whispered, not sure how to say anything more than that.

“We’d find shitty jobs and a shitty apartment somewhere in the middle of a town that actually matters,” he continued, “and we’d sleep on the floor the first night because there wasn’t time to pick out a bed. I could play guitar on a street corner and buy you flowers with whatever coins people toss in the case, and you could take enough pictures to cover the walls so we don’t need wallpaper. And we’d find a stray cat in the rain and bring it inside and name it something metal like Sabbath or Zeppelin. And it would all be so stupid, so massively irresponsible, but it would be our stupid irresponsible little life together. And it would be fucking beautiful.”

Biting your lip, you still couldn’t stop yourself from crying as tears fell down your heated cheeks. “Eddie, that’s what I wanted,” you sighed. “I didn’t know it then, but that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then let’s do it,” he whispered, and it was you that closed the gap— it was you that kissed him, finally, holding on tighter to his jacket as you inhaled sharply and pressed your lips onto his.

They really were soft, just like you thought they’d be; but he tasted different than you expected, maybe because he hadn’t smoked recently. But he tasted like the way the air smells after it rains, and beer, and the leftover sweetness of wedding cake frosting. You breathed against his skin and tasted it more as he deepened the kiss, letting yourself really melt into it, letting him hold you tighter and move his lips with yours however he wanted.

His hand gently reached up to hold the back of your head; the other stroked your cheek one more time before drifting down to your waist.

It was surreal— it was hyperreal— it was Eddie, you were kissing Eddie. Eddie Munson, the freak, the loser, the delinquent; Eddie Munson, your technical-relative; Eddie Munson, that guy who wouldn’t sit still for the damn yearbook photo.

Somehow, thinking about it like that just made you smile a bit and kiss him harder.

What was originally gentle and comforting and sweet started to shift after a few moments, as he opened his mouth wider and gripped your waist harder and let you feel some of that hunger— god, you knew the feeling too well, and you scooted forward in the grass to press yourself to him a bit. He hummed, low and soft, and you whimpered in return as your noises were nearly lost in the kiss.

You held on tighter to his lapel, then reached up to squeeze his shoulders, and he groaned— fuck, it was the sexiest thing you’d heard since… no, actually, it was just the sexiest thing you’d ever heard.

Gasping against his lips, you pushed him down roughly by those shoulders, pinning him to the grass as you swung your leg and straddled his lap. “Fuck,” he muttered, pulling you down to kiss him again.

It was shameless now, all lips and tongue and teeth— when he gently bit on your lower lip you thought you might really go actually crazy— as your hands gripped at his shirt to feel his chest while his touch ran down your back, up your legs, basically anywhere he could reach.

Just when you thought this was it, you were really going to get it over with right here and now after all these years, he broke away. “Baby, wait,” he choked out, shrinking back, and you froze as you pulled away by sitting up slightly.

“What?” you asked, terrified you were about to get your heart kicked back into its cage when you freed it for the first time in years.

“Th-this is a rental,” he blurted out, motioning slightly at the tux he had on.

After a moment’s pause, you started to laugh. And he laughed, too. You relaxed slightly and sat back on his thighs; he sat up and pulled you into a hug, kissing the side of your head while it was nearby. The laughter died down, and the moment passed, and you let each other out of the embrace.

“We should probably get back now,” he decided, and you nodded in agreement.

He took your hand and you ran together through the grass, back towards the sound of the backyard reception, back to the real world.

The whole crowd of guests stood out front and waved as Wayne and your mom drove away — for all the effort you put into getting a nice vintage Cadillac for the send-off, it looked pretty tacky with the streamers and cans tied to it, clanking as it drove down the cul-de-sac.

When they were out of sight, you and Eddie took one more deep breath before turning to the guests behind you. “Thank you all so much for coming!” you announced.

And that was basically what you did for the next fifteen minutes: shake a bunch of hands, wave goodbye, thank everyone for their attendance and gifts. When they left, the rest of your work was only beginning, and it was nearly midnight! Eddie offered to wash dishes and take out the trash while you took down decorations and paid the guys coming to take back the rented stereo equipment.

Thankfully, with the two of you, it went pretty quickly. There was more to do, but it could wait until the morning; it’s not like having tables and chairs set up in your backyard overnight is a crime or something.

When you were done with your tasks, you leaned up against the entryway to the kitchen, finding Eddie drying the last plate. He looked over his shoulder at you for a second, smiling, before drying his hands and setting it all down to face you: his jacket was long gone and his bowtie hung untied loosely around an unbuttoned collar that exposed a hint of clavicle and chest hair.

“So, house to ourselves,” he noticed, glancing around. “We throwin’ a rager or what?”

You smiled softly, glancing down.

He approached you slowly and carefully, reaching up to hold your shoulders when he was close enough. Even now you felt a little shaky, a little nervous to be this close to him even when you’d already kissed, but his gentle smile soothed you; so you did it, you stood up a bit taller and kissed him.

It wasn’t as sudden as the last one, so it wasn’t as rushed, and yet there was a creeping sense of urgency to it because you both realized it could go somewhere— maybe it didn’t have to, but with an empty house and no time limit or deadline coming up, anything could happen tonight.

As you clutched his shirt and pulled him closer with an inhale through your nose, feeling his hands take your waist and press you to him, you realized that you wanted it to go somewhere. Not just anywhere— you knew exactly where you wanted this to go.

“Bed,” you blurted out, pulling back to look up at him. “We— we should go to bed.”

“Okay,” he agreed, sounding a little breathless, “top or bottom?”

You laughed as he started guiding you with him already. “Mine, for sure,” you decided.

“Aw,” he pouted as you walked through the bedroom door, “I’ve been thinking about getting you in my bed for ages— not gonna let me have my fantasy, huh?”

As you fell back onto your bottom bunk, pulling him down with you, he got the angle wrong and smacked his forehead on the wood between the mattresses; you laughed, covering your mouth when you felt guilty for it, and he scrunched up his nose as he held his head for a second. “That was my fantasy,” you joked, and he laughed in return as he ducked a little too dramatically now to join you in the bed.

The lower bunk could feel a bit like a cave sometimes, in a cozy sort of way— but with Eddie on top of you, it was like it was all closing in on you as his weight dipped you both deeper into the mattress than ever. That probably sounds horribly claustrophobic, but it was actually nice. You felt safe and shockingly not-vulnerable considering the circumstances, even as he started to unzip the back of your dress while he kissed you again.

For your part, you were absolutely flying through his shirt’s buttons, sighing when it was opened and you could run your hands over his warm skin beneath. His tattoos looked better than ever peeking out from under a tuxedo shirt, though you only got a brief glimpse of him before his lips on your neck all but forced your head to tilt back.

“Sensitive,” he noticed with a whisper, but just one word said like that made you mewl and work harder to get his shirt off. But before you could get it all the way over his shoulders, he managed to get your dress down enough to expose your chest— and he hungrily sucked on your breasts as soon as he could.

“Oh god,” you whined, hips rocking up into nothing.

“Here too,” he laughed as he kissed from one to the other, looking up at you for a second. “Are you always this… responsive?”

You almost laughed imagining that Eddie really thought Gary had ever gotten this kind of reaction out of you. You bit your lip and shook your head, and a little snarl curled his lips as he growled at you.

“Just for me, then?” he assumed, and you nodded. “That’s so sexy— you’re so sexy…”

“You too,” you admitted as he suckled at your chest again. “I-I thought about this.”

“Yeah?” he breathed. “I thought about this, too— a lot.”

You smiled proudly, before he broke away and sat up slightly to tug your dress off down your legs. He purred again as he admired you laying there beneath him, naked spare for your panties, but he surprised you by coming back down to kiss your stomach— not exactly where you expected him to start, but okay— and beginning to move lower and lower…

Oh, fuck. He looked up at you as he kept making his way down, fingers tucking into your panties so he could slide them down your thighs.

Even obviously knowing what was coming, you gasped loudly when his lips latched onto your pussy. “F-fuck!” you choked as his tongue lapped at you eagerly, suction tugging on your clit until your insides throbbed helplessly.

He held onto your legs and pushed his face harder against you, sliding his tongue deeper inside you, shutting his eyes tight while he seemed to feed on your need until you had to grab on to the support beams on either side of your head. You felt him smile down there— cocky little shit— and go even harder.

The pleasure was heavy on your gut, like a weight keeping you pinned down, even though you longed so much to rock up into it for more. “I— oh my god…”

He moaned against you, the most perfect sound muffled by your body, his fingers digging a little harder into your soft skin. He was ruthless, and when you were nearly screaming, he just took it as a sign to go harder on you— he chased your pleasure fast enough that he had it captured in just a few minutes.

“I— I’m— oh god, Eddie,” you whined. “I’m… I’m so close…”

He nodded and hummed against you but refused to slow down for even a second, just shutting his eyes tighter as he focused all his strength into keeping your hips still so he had total control over the way his mouth took you apart piece by piece.

One of your hands shot down and took a tight hold on his hair, but his groan of pain actually sounded rather pleased. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged, “oh my god—”

Your neck craned back and your spine arched so hard you lifted off the bed for a second, and he just opened his mouth wide and left his tongue stuck out so you could ride it shamelessly, the fireworks going off behind your eyelids as your orgasm shook your body.

You said his name a few more times, not really meaning to but needing to, and his heavy breaths fanned over your flushed skin.

Only when you shakily sank back down into the bed, loosening your grip on his mane, did he break away and sit up to look down at you with a swallow and satisfied sigh.

“What’d you do that for?” you panted, unable to fight your own smile at the sight of his: wide and sparkling with slick that dripped down to his chin.

“‘Cause somebody oughta,” he explained, finally taking his shirt off all the way since you never actually got around to it.

“But I didn’t mean to come so fast…”

“It’s better this way— I already know I won’t be able to last long with you,” he admitted, leaning forward and capturing you in a messy kiss that tasted like— well, I bet you can guess what it tasted like. Wedding cake, of course!

His breathing was heavy, too, as he tried to divide his mental energy between kissing you and unbuttoning his tuxedo pants; once that was done he pushed them down his thighs just enough that he could guide your hand to his aching cock, and you let out a long whimper of a breath as you wrapped your fingers around it. God, it was literally hot, he must be burning up, and the drip of arousal running down made everything all smooth as you ran your fingers over the delicate skin.

“Put it in for me,” he instructed you under his breath, so as he lowered his hips down, you lifted your own a bit and guided him to your opening. He gasped before he was even inside, just feeling your heat on the very tip of his cock; and as he delicately slid in, you groaned and dropped your head back.

A deep satisfaction filled you— literally— when his hips were flush with yours, full to the brim and gasping as he laid down on top of you.

“So perfect,” he breathed as he brushed loose hair away from your face. “I love you so much.”

You really didn’t wanna cry right now, it would be stupid, right? It would be too weird. You reached up and grabbed onto the back of his neck to make him kiss you again. “I love you too,” you replied only when you were ready to say it without your voice breaking.

He started to move, careful and slow, and for some reason you just needed to say it again, mumbled into the kiss.

“I love you,” you repeated, reaching up to hold onto his back. He nodded against you with a sigh of his own.

“I know,” he promised, “I know…”

And even if he knew, it just felt good to finally say it, and not even feel bad about it— not a drop of guilt or regret or self-consciousness. That could wait for the morning.

Holding each other tightly, you found a steady pace— and then it was Eddie’s turn to hold onto one of the beams by your head as he buried his face in your neck. “God,” he grunted, “so fuckin’ wet— you’re dripping for me, sweetheart…”

Whimpering, you let your nails dig into his back and your legs wrap around his hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, kissing your neck hungrily. The stretch inside you was pleasurable enough, but then with his lips and tongue and teeth on your pulse, a tingling feeling danced up your back and you nearly sobbed from how good it felt. And then he let go of the beam to toy with your hard nipple, and you thought you might lose your cool again right away. “Fuck!” he said again, louder, as he picked up his pace. “Y-you squeezed me so tight, baby, did you feel that? Oh my god…”

You hadn’t felt it, until he made you do it again, and you noticed that time with a wavering cry of his name.

“Promise me something,” he panted as he lifted his head to look down at our face. “Never stop saying my name like that.”

He kissed you before you could properly agree to it, slipping his hands under your back the next time it arched so he could hug you tightly as he thrusted much, much faster.

“Fuck, m’gonna come,” he whimpered, “I’m sorry— I really wanted to last longer, but god, you’re so— you— fuck!”

“S’okay,” you insisted, “just come— oh my god, Eddie, I want you to come—”

“Baby, baby,” he whined pleadingly as his head fell onto your shoulder, “don’t say that, I don’t want it to end so soon…”

“It doesn’t matter,” you promised, “just come, please, inside me—”

“Christ,” he blurted out, taking a tight hold of your hips and tossing his head back as his movements became a blur against your numbing, sticky walls. “I— fuck, you’re sure I don’t have to pull out?”

You nodded as you gripped his arms. “I’m sure, please please Eddie—!”

He gasped loudly and gave you an extra sudden, sharp thrust— and you started to feel it, his cock flexing in you, his heat flooding you, both of you panting as you started to still.

A long sigh accompanied his collapsing onto you, catching his breath between kisses all along your neck and face.

“I really, really tried not to come that fast,” he laughed breathlessly, and you just hugged onto his torso tighter.

“So did I,” you promised. “I-it’s fine, really… I’m definitely satisfied, I mean, fuck— that was… fuck.”

“Yeah…” he agreed.

And you both fell asleep in seconds. Because it was nearly two in the morning and you’d been working on the wedding shit all day and it was actually kind of a miracle you stayed awake long enough to do that in the first place!

You woke up hours later, the only light in the room just slivers of moonlight leaking through the window; he was behind you, holding you close, breathing on the back of your neck. You held on tighter to the arm in front of your chest, leaning your head back into his chest, not expecting him to stir and sleepily plant a kiss on your head.

“Are you awake?” you whispered so softly there was any noise, but he nodded.

“Barely,” he admitted. “You’re so warm…”

He hugged you tighter, then kissed you again— then lifted his head to kiss under your ear, by your jaw, just over your pulse…

You didn’t even mean to grind your ass into him, it was just that what he was doing made your back arch. “Sweetheart,” he breathed, and that made you even hotter. “I need you again.”

It was so easy to slide right in, your body still leaking his come from before, but even without that he could get you wet in seconds; you moaned lowly and tried to arch your back deeper to angle his cock just how you thought you wanted— but he grunted and pulled your back into his chest, wanting to feel as much of you as he could. It made the angle of his thrusts a bit less natural and yet it forced him to rub right against your spot, and you shut your sleepy eyes tighter at the feeling. “Fuck— like that, Eddie, just like that…”

He nodded in agreement and turned his gentle pecks on your shoulder into a full-on assault of tongue on anything he could reach, getting more desperate for you by the second.

That one lasted much longer— maybe hours, you were totally unable to keep track of time, but at some point he rolled you onto your stomach and rutted on top of you slowly. He never had to pick up his pace to send you right into your first orgasm… or the second.

“Oh my god,” you sighed, “I’ll come again, oh fuck—”

“Good,” he praised roughly right into your ear, voice gravelly from sleep, “good— keep coming.�� Don’t ever stop coming for me, baby, I love feeling it… I love hearing you, sound so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart.”

You whined and bit your lip, reaching up to grab a handful of your pillow— but his hand reached over yours and interlaced his thick fingers with your shaking ones, soothing kisses trailing the side of your face as you sobbed softly. He kept praising you and you, following instructions, kept coming until it wasn’t really a matter of counting them anymore— it was just this never-ending feeling that swallowed you whole, which would be scary if you were alone. But he was right there with you, promising he’d never let you again.

It ended as gradually and softly as it started, and he hugged you into him for you to fall asleep again much more easily than you’d think after a wake-up like that. When you awoke for good, the sun was high in the sky. You couldn’t see the clock, because you were too busy looking up at his sleeping face, but you guessed it was at least nine or ten. It was the latest you’d slept in years.

You didn’t want to wake him up, but staring at him and playing with his hair didn’t satisfy you forever, so you started to plant tiny kisses on his chest, and that stirred him from sleep with a happy groan.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you weren’t ready to see his eyes again, in the light of the day, knowing how easily you’d given in to him after trying to resist for so many reasons for so long. You weren’t ready to wonder if this was just getting out some pent-up energy before parting for as long as you needed to be regular step-siblings.

You just shut your eyes and laid your head on his bicep as he sat up on his side to look at you.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, and you snorted.

“I mean, I slept great,” you smiled, “when I was sleeping.”

“Me too,” he agreed as he kissed your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby, I wanna see you.”

“Mmm…” you groaned in protest, burying your face in the pillow when he tried to hold it.

“C’mon,” he whined, “I miss you.”

“I’m right here!” you promised, but you gave in and let him turn your face towards him as your eyes blinked open. You were right— you weren’t ready. The way he was looking at you was impossible to ever move on from, and you’d never be able to do it if he asked you to.

“So, are we—?” he started.

“Don’t,” you said quickly, reaching up to lay a hand on his chest. “Don’t ask me what we are, okay? ‘Cause I don’t even know.”

“I… was just gonna ask if we were gonna go out for breakfast or cook ourselves,” he explained, and you felt a heat on your face in embarrassment. “I kinda worked up an appetite there, believe it or not.”

“Oh,” you sighed, “um, I can cook something.”

You made a move to get up and he pulled you back down. “N-no, wait,” he frowned.

“I thought you were hungry,” you noticed.

“Yeah… but I don’t want you to go,” he sighed, keeping you close. There was a brief pause as you laughed softly, his arm wrapping around you. “And also I wanna talk about that thing you don’t wanna talk about.”

“Ugh, Eddie,” you groaned, “can’t it wait a little longer?”

“Sure, but can I at least ask you to be my girlfriend first?” he requested.

“You know I can’t,” you sighed, “I’m already your stepsister.”

“See, here’s the thing— I was thinking about that earlier,” he explained, “and what I realized is that… I don’t actually… care, so—”

“What if I care?” you wondered.

“You can’t exactly make that argument when you’re naked in bed with me,” he noticed.

“Well, maybe it was—”

“Don’t tell me it was a mistake,” he interrupted firmly. “You’re not much of a liar— I was there, sweetheart, we both know that was the farthest thing from a mistake. All the time we spent not doing that was the mistake!”

You smiled, because you couldn’t deny that. Misguided? Sure. Poorly timed? Definitely. But nothing truly wrong could feel that right.

“We don’t have to call it, you know, that,” he offered, “boyfriend and girlfriend— if you don’t want to. As long as we’re together, it’ll be fine.”

“But people can’t know we’re together,” you insisted, “least of all Mom and Wayne.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“What are we gonna do when they get back?” you wondered.

“Guess I’m gonna have to go—” he reached up and knocked his fist on the slats above you— “back upstairs.”

“I’ll miss you,” you whined, cuddling harder into him.

“Okay, I’ll come down after they go to sleep,” he decided, hugging you tighter as well.

You spent the rest of your week alone together for the honeymoon very… similarly to a honeymoon, actually. Damn near every room in the house was defiled and you were so exhausted you ended up calling in sick to work most days. It was well worth it, obviously; Eddie had so much energy and lost time to make up for, meanwhile you were just happy to let him shower you in affection and bring you in an hour more pleasure than you’d had in the rest of your life combined.

“God, I can’t, I really really can’t,” he insisted as your lips latched onto his neck and your hips grinded in his lap.

“You said that last time,” you remembered.

“I know, but now I mean it!” he sighed, dropping his head onto the back of the couch. “What are you doin’ to me, woman? Trying to kill me?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, licking his neck and purring as you felt the muscles in it shift under your tongue. “Isn’t this how you always wanted to die?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “but I can’t croak so soon— you’d miss me too much.”

For all his insistence that he couldn’t go again, that ten times in four days was too much, he was guiding your movements in his lap hardly ten minutes later, watching with heavy eyes as you sank down onto his cock over and over.

“Fuck, so pretty,” he breathed, biting his lip while he drank in the sight. Thick hands ran up your thighs as you bounced on him, slipping around to grab palmfuls of your ass while you rode, and you moaned happily.

It’s easy to guess that you got a bit spoiled by that week. Eddie had you addicted to him in moments and kept you around his finger (sometimes literally) so easily. As such, it made you dread even more each day that you got closer and closer to the return of the newlyweds. You couldn’t even imagine going back to normal after this— and what even was ‘normal’ before? You never really had one.

Even if it was just a matter of keeping it a secret, you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe if it had been easier, the plan would’ve lasted a bit longer.

They returned from their trip on a Wednesday afternoon, and you all sat at the table together to talk about how much fun they had and all the fishing and hiking and relaxing they did. It was good to see them again, but even just sitting across the table from Eddie felt odd. Even just being apart that night while you and your mom went out for dinner alone felt odd. Even just sleeping in separate bunks, after you chickened out on sharing from the fear that someone would burst in and see your cuddling, felt odd.

Eddie got up first, but he went to the bathroom to shower and shave before you got up so you couldn’t even try to sneak in a quick good morning kiss. Instead, you started preparing breakfast in the kitchen, taking a break to brush your teeth when the bathroom was free and he was watching TV. Other than offering to make him a piece of toast, you didn’t say much, mainly because you were still kind of waking up.

While you were finishing breakfast preparations you heard Eddie come into the kitchen and step up behind you, but you didn’t say anything, and neither did he for a second— not until he was standing just a bit too close.

“This is way too hard,” he whispered.

“Hm?” you wondered, shivering when his lips gently brushed against your neck in the next moment. “E-Eddie, we can’t—”

“I know,” he agreed under his breath, “that’s what’s so hard. Not being able to touch you, or kiss you, or…”

You were trying to resist, really, but his fingers were just barely tickling your sides through your shirt while his tongue teased your ear and it made your knees a little weak. Okay, a lot weak; you just had to let him spin you around so he could kiss you on the mouth, hard and needy.

You were so caught up by it that you didn’t hear the sound of movement on the other side of the wall. You just reached up to wrap your arms together on top of his shoulders and let him deepen it, tilting your head a bit as you fought back a moan.

He started to guide you back, and you barely questioned it, and the two of you all but fell into the dining room, nearly colliding the table; and it was a good thing you didn’t, since that would’ve put Wayne’s coffee at risk of falling off the table— he, by the way, was sitting at the table next to your mom, something neither of you had taken the time to notice, until the man gruffly cleared his throat to get your attention.

You pulled away from each other with a gasp; Eddie coughed lightly while you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, wide-eyed as you took in the way the two of them were staring at you from their seats at the table.

“Good morning,” Wayne finally offered, and Eddie nodded with a nervous laugh as you tried to decide where to start.

“S-sorry,” you decided to say first, “we were— it’s not— he was just—”

He was just what, helping me decide if I should get a new flavor of toothpaste? He was just saying ‘good morning’ the European way? He was just helping me butter my toast? Oh god, that sounds even worse…

“Oh, you don’t need to act so shy about it,” your mom promised with a tilt of her head, which made you switch from shock to bewilderment. “I actually always thought it was strange you never kissed in front of us before now!”

Eddie raised one of his eyebrows as he looked at her in confusion. “Um… well, we never kissed at all before— before, you know, a couple days ago…”

“Wait, really?” she laughed. “That’s a little odd— being involved all this time and waiting so long to kiss?”

You blinked, choking as you tried to reply to that. “We— we weren’t involved! Until now!”

Wayne tried to cover his smile with his hand, but it couldn’t hide his laugh. Your mom looked at him and then back at you. “What?!” she yelped. “Wayne and I— we were so sure you two were—!”

“No!” you blurted out. “We weren’t… why would you think that?”

“Because it was obvious,” Wayne explained flatly. “We’re old, not stupid.”

“You were so clearly interested in each other!” she went on. “We figured you’d started dating and just didn’t tell us because— well, you didn’t need to! You really weren’t?”

“Of course not!” you insisted. “Mom, we’re— you know… related! Kind of. That doesn’t bother you?”

“It didn’t seem to bother either of you,” she noticed. “But, you’re both adults, you can do what you like. You were classmates long before Wayne and I ever met. People marry their high school sweethearts all the time.”

“O-okay, to be clear,” you stammered, “we went to high school together— but we were not sweethearts.”

Eddie gave you a look, crossing his arms as if he was amused by all this, and you shook your head.

“But— okay, well, thank you, I guess, for your… blessing,” you decided. “And we’ll… try not to kiss in the kitchen too often.”

That night, after saying goodnight to Mom and Wayne, Eddie followed you into your bedroom and shut the door behind you. He sat next to you on your bed, even though you kind of expected him to climb up to his own— but you didn’t have any complaints when he pulled you into a kiss that built quickly in intensity.

You brushed your fingers through his hair (as best you could with how tangled it was) and hummed as he gently held your waist, but when you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if it went on much longer, you had to cut it short.

“Wait,” you gasped, pushing him back gently until he stopped and looked at you with big, wide eyes. “We can’t…”

“Why not?” he wondered.

“Because…” you trailed off, finishing your sentence by pointing in the other direction.

“Because…” he repeated, squinting his eyes as he looked where you were pointing. “Because, the wall? Aw, babe, I know I get a little carried away but I don’t think the walls are gonna collapse.”

“No, the other side of the wall,” you sighed.

“The bathroom?”

“The other side of that.”

“...the water heater?”

“Eddie!” you whined. “The other side of that!”

“The master bedroom, final answer,” he nodded. “What— Mr. and Mrs. Munson? What about ‘em?”

“Um, their… presence?” you clarified, not sure what he wasn’t getting.

“If they know we’re together then we don’t have to hide it,” he pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean I wanna fuck with them in the house,” you returned with a frown.

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” he smirked, “you know— if the bunk bed’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’ or something like that.”

“That’s… not a saying.”

“Okay, but, close enough,” he pouted.

“Still not having sex with you while our parents are home,” you insisted. He didn’t seem too disappointed, though— actually, a mischievous smile grew on his face as he looked at you.

“I noticed something,” he informed you. You raised your eyebrows and waited. “Your mom said people marry their high school sweethearts all the time. You said we weren’t sweethearts.”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“But you didn’t tell her we weren’t getting married.”

Your eyes went wide and you bit your lip; he looked way too fucking proud of himself as he leaned in closer and poked you teasingly in the stomach with his fingers. You tried to lean away or cover yourself with crossed arms but it wasn’t working, and neither were your attempts to stifle your laughter.

“You’re soooo into me,” he noticed in a playfully mocking voice. “You wanna get maaarriiieeeddd—”

“N-no, I don’t,” you denied with an eye roll, “I— I just didn’t notice she said that.”

“You wanna have my baaaabbiiieeesss,” he continued anyways, and you nearly choked on your own throat.

“E-Ed, we’re too young for any of that right now,” you insisted.

“Okay,” he nodded, pausing for a second. “How about now?”

You snorted, shaking your head at your own amusement with such a stupid joke. “No, I mean, like, the future.”

“Future,” he affirmed, “as in, tomorrow?”

“No!” you groaned. “Like, someday!”

“Sunday?”

You whined and dropped your head on Eddie’s shoulder in defeat, making him laugh and reach up to rub your back. “You’re horrible,” you mumbled.

“Mhm,” he agreed as he softly kissed the top of your head. “Just promise me something?”

You lifted your head to rest your chin on his shoulder so he could see your face; he reached up and held it gently, caressing the height of your cheek with his thumb.

“You tell me when it’s ‘someday’, okay?” he asked softly. “I don’t care if it’s ten days from now or ten years. You just say the word, and we’ll do all that boring grown up stuff we’re not old enough for yet. Deal?”

You smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

He hummed and kissed the tip of your nose before gently capturing your lips again, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh,” he said suddenly as he pulled back, “by the way— you can keep my ring you took.”

“I… thought you forgot about that,” you admitted sheepishly, and he grinned, shaking his head.

“Of course not,” he cooed, “but it’s better that you have it, since you wanna be the next Mrs. Munson so bad.”

“I don’t—!” you began to disagree, but he cut you off with another kiss.

Someday came January 19th, 1988. It was a quiet day, but otherwise typical for life in your little rental place up in North Hawkins by the lake, which was usually filled with Eddie's raucous practicing on the Warlock alongside the hand-me-down furniture and framed (award-winning) photos on the wall.

Nothing specific made you realize it— he was just laying back on the couch and fiddling around on his acoustic (specifically his new acoustic you'd gotten him for his most recent birthday) while you arranged and rearranged the magazine spread due in a few days— but you just… knew that it was time.

“Wanna get married?” you blurted out, and he looked at you with a tinge of shock on his face before he smiled.

“You know I do,” he grinned. “Hop in the van, we’ll go to the courthouse—”

You interrupted him with a laugh as he was sitting up and setting his guitar aside. “I figured we would just start, like, planning it…”

He groaned disappointedly as he flopped back onto the couch. “You make me wait this long and then you say we have to wait more?”

“You don’t want a wedding?!” you scoffed.

“I do, but I’d rather get married now and just do the wedding whenever we have the time,” he explained. “Doesn’t it sound fun?”

You smirked. “Well, I figured once we were married you’d want kids right away. And I’m not interested in a maternity-bridal gown.”

“Y’sure? I think you’d be real cute like that,” he cooed.

"I think you should keep dreamin', pretty boy," you winked in return.

He hopped up off the couch and crossed the room to kiss you suddenly— holding your face in his hands, keeping you close, saying so much with no words at all. You fell into it so quickly that you were the one leaning forward for more when he pulled back. He smirked at you proudly; "So, courthouse?"

You sighed. "How come you always get your way with me? Why is that?"

"'Cause you're just so wildly, stupidly, counter-intuitively in love with me," he answered confidently.

"Oh, right," you smiled. "I almost forgot."

Eddie cleared his throat as he stood before all your family and friends— Jonathan, the Hellfire club, your coworkers and colleagues, your mom and stepdad, and even Eddie's father who had been granted furlough so he could attend. A small gathering, but still a crowd. You could tell he was nervous; you were, too, of course, and you looked down at your white dress and your hands holding his to try to remind yourself that this was real.

"Well, um, hi," he addressed them before he began the vows he'd written and rehearsed a thousand times for today. "Bet you never thought you'd see me in a suit, right?"

THE END

#eddie munson x reader #stepbrother!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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romanoffsbish · 2 years ago

Text

Maroon

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

And Broken Promises…

Warnings: Heartbreak, “Break up,” “Cheating”

Reader is an artist, and so is my little sister, so I commissioned her with an axolotl plushy and help with her math to create Y/N’s pieces. Enjoy 🤷🏼‍♀️😂 Reader was drawn in a hoodie/with a static brush to keep her size/race undefined.

"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?," Scarlett mused while lifting her lipstick stained glass half full of wine up to her lush lips., "Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how." You grumbled, making a dig at yourself, and it paid off, because your heart skipped when her deep laughter filled the room.

———

The blonde was only ever passing through on her way to the next city over for an audition, but one thing led to another, and now the both of you are giggling on the carpet of her home. Talking about your hopes and dreams as if that alone would make them come to fruition.

"I believe in you Y/N/N.," she quietly whispers, as if her encouraging words were a top secret message., "I always have—you're amazing."

"Me?," you scoffed., "If anyone's going to make it, it's you—bet you'll be winning awards, and traveling the world; soon enough you'll forget all about me.," you chuckled, but the air of hurt in your tone was real, but more so obvious.

Scarlett crawled across the carpet, she's not sure if it's the wine that fuels her movements, but within no time she's straddling your lap, and laying her pale lips to yours with fervor., "I'd never forget you Y/N, not when you're all I ever think about.," her words hit you deeply, and for a moment you let them be the truth.

Even if you always knew it would end the same way it began; in an unforgettable whirlwind.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

And I, chose you; the one I was dancin' with, in New York, no shoes.

Looked up at the sky and it was...

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Scarlett returned a week later to find you sat at your desk, canvases spread about, and your appearance gave off an unkempt impression. Nevertheless she swiveled your desk chair around and pounced on you rather giddily.

"I did it Y/N! I got the part in the Marvel movies.," she screeched, and the exhaustion left your body in an instant, you swiftly lifted the both of you up, spinning her around to hear those adorable giggles of hers that you adored so much., "I knew you'd get it Scar!"

You gently set her back down., "I'm so proud of you.," you cupped her cheeks, offering her a soft smile, and she melted so easily into you., "Thank you honey.," you smiled in return, she simply buried herself in your warm embrace, and you began to sway the both of you along to the music you'd already been listening to.

"You're going to be an inspiration to so many little girls across the globe Scar.," you spun her out, and back as she giggled., "What a badass!"

"I have you to thank for it Y/N/N, my number one fan; the greatest friend I've ever had..."

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was...

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Scarlett entered her home in upstate Manhattan with an unexplainable pit in her stomach, she heard soft humming coming from the study, and a noise that normally would be what remedied her stress only solidified it. Neither of you have spoken much since she left for her final Marvel film, she promised to keep in touch, but just like always she fell through.

Upon reaching the doorway she watched the way you danced by your lonesome, she saw the frown on your face; it worried her endlessly. When you spun around to face her it was as if the world had stopped moving, she took you in completely, and a broken sob left her throat.

There'd never been an official label on your situation, but at the end of the day Scarlett had always believed you to be hers, and hers alone. Even if she wasn't willing to share that with the world, to take you out, and show you off with pride. She thought loving you when she could would be enough to keep you, but it wasn't.

Before she could even think to speak her feet were moving, she ripped your flute from your hand, and in an instant she was splashing the liquid onto you, as if that would fix anything. You did nothing to defend yourself, there was nothing you could say to make it better, you saw where her eyes fell, and all you felt was shame for the dark mark she was studying.

One careless night spent with a nameless face brought you to this juncture, your immense loneliness carried you through the motions with another body, and apparently that was all that was needed to finally break that bubble of imperfection you'd both been suffocating in.

"How the hell did we lose sight of us again?," she whimpers, and you watch as the person you always wanted, but never could keep broke, sobbing with her head in her hands, and her heart in a heap on the floor with yours.

"You're never here Scarlett.," you whisper the truth you both knew, and her sobs only deepen as she is reminded that in the end she had to chose between your love or a career. If she had you, then the acting would be paused, and the blonde refused to live with such ultimatums.

"I'll be filming overseas for the next six months, so you can stay here until then.," and without another word from either of your lips she was exiting her own home, and leaving you in shambles on her wine stained carpet.

Ain't that the way shit always ends?

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

And I, lost you; the one I was dancin' with, in New York, no shoes.

Looked up at the sky and it was maroon

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Years flew by like time meant nothing, your career taking you to the sunny West coast, and away from the constant reminder of Scarlett. The blonde still held your heart so tightly in her clutch even to this day, but she was none the wiser as she hadn't reached out since the day you mistakenly broke her into pieces.

Today marks two years since you lost her, and all you wanted was to drink, and watch your go to comfort movie: "We Bought a Zoo.," which if you thought about it, it probably wasn't the best idea to watch her acting while mourning her, but you were never one for being practical.

'The show must go on', it's something you've heard your whole life, from the theater classes you took with the aforementioned woman in high school, to the current words spilling from your agents mouth as she dismisses your pleas to postpone your art gallery just another night.

An artists greatest tool is their lived experience, it's as if the destiny of a great artist is based on the level of pain they're forced to endure. Beethoven, Shakespeare, Van Gogh, and the list goes on and on, their most memorable pieces that graced the world are ones inspired by palpable grief, immense pain, or hysteria.

You reckon your lineup for tonight is your equivalent: a story of a tortured love that never was going to be enough. There was a table with snacks set up as you entered the gala an hour before opening., "Here, go change into this.," you rolled your eyes, and promised the mac and cheese ramekins that you'd be back before slipping off to change into the white suit with the maroon undershirt; a super subtle nod.

You overlooked each of your four pieces, then you surveyed the "about the artist" section with a bittersweet smile as you saw the faces of all your loved ones—all but one, in a cute collage. Then you turned to see the doors being opened, and a long line of people had you moving to the behind the scenes. You were an observer, not the observed anyways, this was the best spot.

In your attempts to escape you missed the familiar face of your old aforementioned flame. Scarlett slipped into the event with the crowd, in a disguise to keep the attention on the likely show stopping pieces you've made. There was no way the blonde was missing this, she'd been looking forward to this since you first painted her the New York skyline back in high school, she knew even then you'd make it.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

The mark you saw on my collarbone

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

X Mark's the Spot of Where We Fell Apart...

Medium: Pen, Pastels, Red Wine on Canvas.

Y/N Y/L/N

12 x 16

The first piece instantly caught her off guard, she expected the artwork to be inspired by your complex situation, but never this boldly, nor so incredibly heartbreaking as soon as it starts. Not that it's too hard to cope with the pain for a passerby, but some part of her hoped it'd be like nothing for her after two entire years.

Your two silhouettes are face to face, but they're not seeing eye to eye. Scarlett's blurred form is looking down towards the shoulder that was covered in a dark mark, and your face was hollowed out, a symbolic show of your heart in the moment. The shirt Scarlett wore that night was black, but in your art piece the shirt she was wearing was white, and untrue to the story it was covered in wine stains. Distorted hearts reminiscent of a tainted love were all over her blouse, and she found the details unsettling.

The longer she stared at it though it began to click for her. The wine she threw on you in the heat of the moment was essentially bleeding through, giving way to the hurt of it all. Your situation started after one too many sips of the bitter drink, so it's honestly the perfect touch.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

the rust that grew between telephones

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

We Got Lost in Translation

Medium: Oil Painting

Y/N Y/L/N

10x10

Scarlett's eyes trailed over the piece, it was so intricately woven with the pain of her silence. In the center of the black canvas was what she believed to be your heart, it was wound up in the spiral of an old fashioned telephone wire that had a phone attached to both ends.

The phones were a pastel blue and bright red, and the connecting line was white, but as the wire wrapped further around the center of the heart it had slowly melted into a rusted color.

There was bold text as well, in the upper right besides the blue phone, it read: "Moon, oh I miss you so.," and besides the red it read: "I've got to go sunshine, until next time."

Scarlett's jaw clenched, those were her actual words every time she'd rush you off the phone. Being called out is eye opening, and awkward. Her steps were hurried as she moved to the next, expectantly heart shattering piece.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

the lips I used to call home, so scarlet,

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

All You Had To Do Was Stay

Medium: Charcoal, Acrylic Paint on Canvas

Y/N Y/L/N

12 x 12 (3 — 4x12's)

There were three pieces, they were diagonal, with an inch in between them, and the next piece was a half inch lower than the previous. Majority of each image was done with fine lined pens, but charcoal was used sparingly giving an ominous effect, but it was artistically sound, expertly giving emphasis to the rare flecks of color you'd painted over.

The first rectangle showcased two young women in a heated make out, there were once again no discernible features besides her red lips and messy blonde hair, and trademark jewelry pieces. Likely to protect her anonymity, but she knew it was likely deeper than that too. It was your attempt to give the audience a more connected experience, maybe if they could see themselves in the piece, it would inspire them.

Scarlett needn't the features to know what this was, it was the first night she ever gave in to her urges to trudge over the lines of friendship. Alcohol coursing through her veins, and that's seen in the tipped flute in her hands wrapped behind your neck, it was a genuine recreation. The thing is, she wasn't even the slightest bit tipsy that night, she was just desperate for you.

The following image is simple, it's a woman, to which she knows to be herself, with a par filled glass hovering near her deep red lips, the rim stained with a detailed imprint of her lips. There were raised ridges of paint used to give the mark an unspoken depth, she felt like reaching out to touch it but that would be rude.

The last image was what hit her where it hurts unlike the other more reminiscent phases here, it was the aftermath of that night she walked away from you, the one she never saw herself. It was her living room clear as day, no detail spared, and in the center of the room was your distorted figure crumpled onto the red stained carpet on your side, with a literal heart in your hands alit in orange flames.

That alone made the final image powerful, but you were always a bit of a risk taker, and with the use of acrylic paints you'd painted shards of glass with flecks of maroon. The stem of the once intact glass was sat before you, but the shards flew out and framed your entire being, giving an illogical, albeit heartbreaking effect.

The rosé colored glasses were broken, the love the two shared in the first frame was shattered, and Scarlett was finding it hard to keep her composure as the imagery prods at her heart. Regret that had been buried resurfacing like it was an old friend along for a game of catch up, her body trembles, but she pushes forward.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

it was maroon...

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Welcome (Farewell) to New York

Medium: Pen, and Pastels on Canvas

Y/N Y/L/N

16x20

Scarlett's mouth actually fell open, a gasp leaving her as she took in the final installment. In the center of the page was a full moon, it took up majority of the canvas, and within the sphere you drew the iconic New York skyline.

Just like the piece you gave here all those years ago, when you were young and hopeful kids with dreams bigger than either could fathom.

Skyscrapers silhouetted in the shade of black filled the bulk of the moon, and with the background space left you shaded it in shades of red and orange, the faintest pastel in a deep maroon dripped strategically onto the moon.

Heartbreakingly mesmerizing is all Scarlett thought as she took her time to understand. Finding out that you not only moved out like she asked, but left for California broke her, she'd secretly hoped you wouldn't leave, that you'd fight for her the way she never did you. It'd been a selfish, and hopeless dream, she knew that all along, but living without you wasn't something she prepared herself for.

For the better part of a decade you allowed her the privilege to love you, you were truly her best kept secret, and part of her hates that now. Because maybe if she didn't hide you, had she told everyone just how special you were, then you wouldn't both be heartbroken and alone.

The final piece of your installment, the cryptic thanks to her was the reason for her sudden emergence of tears. Everything inside of her told her to run, not to get caught crying at this 'random' artists event, she felt far too exposed. Then she heard the crackle of a microphone, she looked up to see your nervous face and froze, there was no way she could leave now.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

And I wake with your memory over me

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

This was the part you were dreading, the art speaks for itself, so you're not sure why Lynn is forcing you to speak further, but here you are. Some random staff member has attached a box to your belt loop, and you have a microphone in your trembling hands. Public speaking was not your thing, and with such a vulnerability at the forefront you felt like throwing up.

"You're on in 5, 4, 3...," you took in a shaky breath as she reached one, then you shook out your shoulders and made your way to the front of the crowd where a podium stood in wait., "Hello Los Angeles.," you awkwardly waved to the spread out crowd., "Before I divulge over my pieces, I'd just like to thank you all for showing up to check out my gallery: Maroon."

There was an awkward silence, a group full of curious strangers stared at you, eyes of all kinds staring into your soul for answers., "Heartbreaks a bitch isn't it?," you chuckled along with the crowd, happy that your icebreaker did well, but then your face turned thoughtful., "But there's also something so inherently beautiful about that pain too."

"An artist is nothing without their muse.," you continued on., "Some of the greatest pieces of all time stem from an artists lived heartbreak: The Chicks and Taylor Swift have the power to break or heal you with their masterful pens. Van Gogh painted one of the most reproduced paintings in the world while on the brink of his ever fading sanity. Shakespeare spoke of love and heartbreak in such a devastating way that you had no choice but to feel it in his stories."

For a brief moment you paused, taking a sip of water before continuing more lightheartedly., "I guess it's true what they say.," you smirked out at the crowd., "Our pain, is your gain.," you relished in their playful laughter, then you mentally prepared yourself for a continuation.

"For me, mine was something more akin to a high school crush that was always just out of my reach.," you said with an indifferent shrug of your shoulders., "We lived within our shared walls as if we were a well oiled machine, but as life went on our time was only ever fleeting, and it was me who finally broke the lie."

Scarlett's lip trembled slightly, she was doing all that she could to prevent the tears falling. Loving you was almost the only truth she had, hearing you speak of it in such a way hurt, it made her wonder how long your resentments were festering before you decidedly gave it up.

"Love's an illusion really.," you paused as the room came to a halt, gasps of surprise filling the space., "It's a subjective feeling, there's no real permanence, just like time—it's fleeting."

Eyes of all shades and curiosity were now glued to you, it was intimidating, but exhilarating., "Because, you know how you feel, but all you have from another is their empty promises. The ones of a forever or eventual love, their touches that only ever temper the pain in your chest every time they walked out that door."

Walking out that door was never easy for her, but it was doable when knowing you'd always be there, but now that you're not, it's hellish. Scarlett's knees nearly buckled as the deep cracks in her heart began bursting back open. Broken promises and the shattering of hearts clearly weren't what she intended, but it's what she caused pretending you were just a 'friend'. Friends don't kiss like that, nor make love.

"Being someone's weekend getaway, and not the person they fought to come home to hurts, but please don't mistake my bitter ramblings for contempt.," you smiled fondly, taking a moment of pause to cherish the good memories in lieu of the heartbreak seen here tonight.

Scarlett shakily moved closer to the stage, she hid in the shadows, and stopped by the 'all about you' table, she didn't need to read any of it, she knew you like the back of her hand. Change as you might've, she knew you at your core, and yet she still spared the table a glance when your smile was too overwhelming for her.

However, it was a choice made in vain since the table was a collage of polaroids with that exact same expression, her fingers traced over one of them, her trembling lip at a pause when she was thrown back to the night she took it.

"The love I carry for my muse is eternal, there's no removing her from my heart, and even with the ache she brings I'd never ask her to vacate. She is, and forever will be, my favorite person."

The blonde sniffled harsher as you spoke, after everything you still loved her, and maybe that could be enough for her to move on, or maybe it's the push she needs to get her shit in order.

"Sometimes things just have to end for the betterment of all, and hey, when they do you all gain an inspired, starving artist at the ready to showcase their broken hearts, and just maybe you can relate, and find peace in these pieces.," you sigh., "With all that said, I'd just like to say thank you once again, and have a lovely night."

As you retreated backstage you were beaming, the crowd having clapped you off the stage., "Great job Y/L/N, now you're free to go home, or to go mingle with your newfound fans."

"Home sounds nice.," you mused, because for a moment you forgot just how lonely your space was without the music you once danced to, or the easy laughter you inspired from the woman who would forever hold a piece of you it seems.

So you thanked your manager, then swiftly made your way through the crowd to the exit.

When stopping at the snacks table to collect some fuel for your movie marathon your knees nearly gave way at the familiar floral scent. Surely it belonged to someone else, that's what you decided to believe as you rushed out of the building, but you knew that simply wasn't the case when your eyes briefly caught sight of a patch of blonde nestled beneath a ball cap.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Birds chirping lively outside your bedroom window woke you up, you groaned, then looked over to see who it was, and their beady little eyes stared back at you menacingly., "Fuck off."

You had a hangover, you'd returned to your condo last night with a set plan: watch sitcoms, eat your weight in junk food, and then drink a few glasses of booze before sleeping a shit ton. Now you notice it's only 7am, but your dry mouth won't allow the sweet release of slumber to reclaim you, so you trudged down the stairs in search of the Tylenol and a glass of water.

Once you managed to take the pills you'd sat down, leaning your face against the chilled marble of the counter and sighed. Then as your eyes began to close a loud bang startled you up. The incessant knocking on your door didn't help the dull ache in your head, so after the person refused to relent you approached the door, and with extreme caution you opened it.

"Hi.," your breath caught in your throat at the familiar smile, all the hurt in your heart flying out the door as you stepped aside., "Hey..."

(it was maroon)

—————

3,910 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥹

#scarlett johansson pov #scarlett johansson angst #scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson oneshot #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett x you #scarlett x fem!reader #scarlett x y/n #scarlett x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #gxg

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crappycamille · 4 years ago

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On Stand-By (bakugou x reader)

minors DNI

warnings: 18+, voyeurism/exhibitionism, somnophilia-ish (not really), unprotected sex, masterbation

Bakugou couldn't have been dreading a mission more. Why the hell did his agency have to put him, of all people, on this task. Okay fine- he knew that he was the one most fit for the mission but still. This was a pain in the ass.

The Commission was having trouble with a smaller gang of criminals. The mission was for him to wait on stand-by in a small apartment adjacent to the building where the gang's hideout was. Nothing Bakugou couldn't handle on his own, but still, the Commission had to put you on the job too. It wasn't that Bakugou didn't like you, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He always had a hard time controlling himself whenever you were around.

How the hell was he supposed to control himself when you always strolled into his agency in that skin-tight hero suit of yours? When you would come in and shamelessly flirt with his friends. He would see your fights on the news, but he couldn't even focus because with every kick your ass jiggled in such a delicious way. And when that bubbly butt came strolling into his office it took everything in his power to not take you right on his desk.

His pants tightened at the thought of you fucked dumb underneath him. Imagining what your pretty face would look like contorted into a fucked out expression. He wanted to ruin you. However, Bakugou needed to keep it professional. The Commission would often pair the two of you together since you were one of the few people who could keep up with him in combat and agility. Another reason why Bakugou sought after you. So when he heard he would have to be stuck in an apartment with you all day for two weeks he couldn't help but complain.

To make matters worse, when he showed up at the apartment there was only one bedroom. The couch was way too small for either of you to sleep comfortably. So, the two of you had to sleep in the same bed. His assistant sure got an ear full.

The first couple of days weren't bad. The two of you tried to spend the time as far away from each other as possible within the small studio apartment. Aside from simple greetings, neither of you talked to each other very often. Either one of you getting out of the shared bed as soon as you woke up to wordlessly make breakfast. You knew Bakugou well, so if keeping your distance would keep him in a decent mood for longer... the better for you both.

The instructions were to not leave the apartment by any means. The two of you were just supposed to wait for the call. And all Bakugou could do was hope that it was sooner than later.

Everything seemed to be going fine... that is until Bakugou woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of your slutty little fingers deep in your cunt. He couldn't believe his ears. Were you really masturbating with him right next to you?

You were almost too quiet to hear... almost.

You weren't making much noise aside from your labored breathing and the occasional whispered mewl. What gave you away was the not-so-quiet sound of your pussy. It was clear that you were drenched. Bakugou had to do everything in his power to not groan out as he imagined how wet you were.

He was painfully erect, but he didn't dare move a muscle in fear that you would figure out he was awake. He relished in the sounds of your cunt, wishing he could see it for himself.

He listened to you finish and quickly scurry over to the bathroom before falling back asleep. All while leaving him with a painful hard-on for the rest of the night. You were making this so difficult for him.

You went on during the day regularly, clearly unaware you had been caught. But each night the same thing happened. Bakugou would wake up to the sound of you. Some nights were quick and others you took your time to tease yourself. All while he would quietly palm himself to gain some relief. All of it was driving him crazy.

But then. Then... he heard it. Clear as day... His name.

"B-Bakugou" the sound came out as a breathy moan. It was a lot less subtle and quiet than you had intended it to be. Too lost in pleasure to realize the blond next to you heard you cry out for him. A sound that shot straight to his cock. A sound that made him feral.

He snapped.

In one swift motion, he pushed himself on top of you. A hand coming to grab the hand you had been teasing yourself with to keep it in place. A way of showing you he knew what you were doing.

Your eyes shot open wide in surprise, fear written all over your face as his predatory vermillion eyes glared down at you.

"B-B-Bakugou! It's not what it looks-"

"It's not what?" His voice deep and rasped. "It's not me catching you knuckles deep in your pussy being a fucking pervert?" Your pussy fluttered at his crude words. Taking your wrist into his large hand he brought your fingers, soaked in your essence, up to his mouth to suck on them. Groaning out at finally being able to taste you.

"It's not me catching you moan my name while you get yourself off while I was 'sleeping' next to you? Hm? Fucking slut. I bet you wanted to be caught."

"N-No I-"

"N-No I-" he mocked, a smirk gracing his face as he watched you squirm with humiliation. "Quit acting like you haven't been doing this all week." Your eyes widened at the realization he had heard you the entire time.

He began to rut against your clothed crotch, needing to alleviate the ache of his cock. Your hips matching his pace. Grinding against him with need. "What's the matter?" he said with a mocking pout. "Didn't think I'd notice?"

But Bakugou did fail to notice. He failed to notice that you felt the same way about him as he did you. He failed to notice when you would come to his agency more often than what was needed, just to see him. That you went out of your way to impress him on missions. That you would go out of your way to look good for him. That you would often stare for far longer than you were supposed to.

Being in such close quarters with him caused so much tension to well-up in you. You knew it was wrong. You hadn't intended to get caught, you just needed a way to relieve yourself. But in all honesty the thrill of getting off right next to the man you yearn for added to the pleasure. And being in the same bed as the handsome blond with his broad, sculpted back facing you made your lewd imagination run wild.

Your mind was brought back to the present as you felt your shorts being pulled down your legs. Before you could even react, Bakugou's strong hands pried your knees apart to reveal your sopping cunt to his hungry eyes.

He had waited so long for this.

"Bakugou wait-" He cut you off with a sharp slap to your inner thigh.

"It's Katsuki to you. Wanna hear you say my name. Got it." He said as he pressed a lasting kiss to your clit. The act was so gentle it seemed almost uncharacteristic. You couldn't help but nod senselessly, not entirely sure what you were agreeing to.

Before you knew it, the "gentle Katsuki" was gone. Two fingers slid into your slick entrance and began to rapidly pump against your velvet walls.

You immediately clamped down around his fingers due to the sudden intrusion. Your hips trying to get away from the surge of pleasure.

"Ah ah ah. Don't run away." A sadistic grin plaster on his face. "Be a good girl and take it."

"Oh fuck!" a strangled moan released from your lips. "It's too much!"

"Too much?" he said with a mocking laugh. "How the hell do you expected to take my cock if you can't take my fingers, hah?" In reality, Bakugou knew he was torturing you. Giving you no time to even think. Confusing you with going between being gentle and rough within a matter of seconds.

He wanted you to suffer, at least a little. After a week of making him suffer. Making him fight against himself for wanting to hold back. But most of all he was just enjoying seeing you squirm. As much as he imagined you in a state of pleasure, you far exceeded his expectations.

Your eyes half-lidded, struggling to keep them open as your eyes roll back. Eyebrows knitted together. Drool spilling at the corner of you of your gaping mouth that's moaning out his name just like he asked more like commanded. Fuck, you were so sexy.

You had already been teasing yourself. Edging yourself closer and closer to an orgasm, so you were already so close. The pressure building was like no other.

"So close! So close! I'm gonna cum, Katsuki." As much as Bakugou wanted to deny you relief, much like you unintentionally did to him, he couldn't bear to hold back any longer. He wanted to see you come fully undone. He brought his face down to lap and suck on your clit. Pushing you further over the edge.

"Do it. Cum all over me." The pressure snapped inside you. Breaking like a dam. You squirted all over. All over his face, his hands, and the bed.

"Holy shit!" He groaned; his hands never stopping. Working you to elongate your climax. Your hips bucking up to meet the thrust of his hands. His own hips bucking against the bed.

He swears he could cream just from the sight of you squirting like that.

Your hands curl into his hair to pull him into a needy kiss. Your slick dribbling down Bakugou's chin. He can feel your clit steadily throbbing from the overstimulation.

"Please Katsuki. I need it." You whine. "Need to feel you."

Bakugou couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't tease you for a second more. He was so hard it hurt.

"I know you do baby. I know. I need it too." He hurriedly releases his cock from the confines of his shorts. Sighing in relief as he rubs himself against your wet folds. Your hands were all over each other. Grabbing and groping at whatever you could. Both of you were so needy.

You've both wanted this for so, so long.

You hiss when you felt the stretch from Bakugou's thick cock. Bakugou wanted nothing more than to pound into you, but he felt as though he was going to cum any second. Your warm, velvety walls already fluttering around him.

"So fucking tight." He said through a groan. "Relax a little, will ya, you're choking me." He said pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Tears prick your eyes as he begins to move. Snapping his hips up to press the tip of his cock to your cervix in a way no one else has.

"Fuck yeah. So good, you're being so good for me." his praises coming out in mumbles as began to get lost in his own pleasure. "Come on, gimme one more. Cum for me like a good little slut."

"Nuh-uh. I can't." You cried out.

"You can and you will." His hand reached around to circle your puffy clit. Throaty grunts leaving Bakugou as your walls fluttered around him. "Shit. That's it, pretty girl. I want you to cum on my cock."

Your nails dug deep into Bakugou, holding on for dear life. "Cum with me Katsuki! Please. Want you to cum inside me!"

Pleasure clouded Bakugou's vision as pushes himself to fuck you through your orgasm, but he's not far after. Hips stuttering before he painted your walls white.

A sigh leaving him when he finally comes back to his senses, slipping out of you with a hiss as the cold air hits him. But holy- if he looked at you for too long he would get hard again. Seeing his cum leak out of you was a like a dream come true.

Maybe being on stand-by wasn't so bad after all.

a/n: thank you for reading. this is my first fic so feedback is welcomed and appreciated

#bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #thanks for reading

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i-need-air · 4 years ago

Text

Hybrid!AU Wolf!Bakugou Katsuki HCs Part 2.

Summary: Part 2 is here! While in part 1 it was mostly adoption and how he'd behave with you as a roommate, part two is him ✨ realizing things ✨ followed by how he'd be in a romantic relationship.

Word Count: 2k words [ oops, I did it again ]

Notes: So I said it'll be out in a few days but three [3] people asked me for part 2 and I'm a sucker soooooooo!! I could've just written a long ass fic but whatever, I thought I'd make it shorter in headcanons... hah lol right. Enjoy!

Part 1 here!

× he's a wild wolf so he's very active; like you need to understand he needs to go outside if not he'd get impatient, more aggressive, snappy, so once you took him on an easy hiking trail near your house and he loved it so once or twice a month you both go together to different places [ he demands it ]

× it's hard to keep up with him bc he's literally genetically engineered to be better than any very fit human being but he slows down for you

× morning runs at 5 a.m. bc he's insane

× is also a grandpa

× watched all documentaries on any streaming platform you could provide to him, also loves reading

× as months pass and you start to have your routine in order, word comes to you that an acquaintance is looking for a security guard at his mechanical shop two streets away from your house

× you casually mentioned it to Bakugou because he was starting to act anxious whenever you'd leave the house, so you assumed he was extra bored

× seriously, the house was spotlessly cleaned, he cooked amazingly and was occupied with your old laptop and going around the city to explore, but you guessed he wanted more independence?

× little did you know you were right but so wrong lol

× so Bakugou stared at you intensely and asked "Where?"

× it was as easy as telling him the location, him nodding and you thought he'd consider it; you didn't put any pressure on him because he already did so much to help around anyway

× well guess what bitch, next day he comes up to you saying you gotta co-sign his contract [cuz fuck society] meaning he got the job

× he was perfect for it because tall, intimidating, muscular wolf guy? who'd even mess with him? do they have a death wish?

× well, even before this he started to be... soft

× but once you really did show him you support whatever he wants to do, you give him his freedom and liberty of choice, he just reaaally changes, man

× he gets touchy, like his hands stay one second longer on your skin, he uses any excuse to have them on you, even his eyes follow you everywhere

× like c'mon, it's obvious but you didn't wanna put too much thought into it because we're respectful here

× not like you had a big fat crush on him and slowly started to realize it too

× sike bitch he knows

× you think his super-hearing didn't catch the way your heartbeat spikes up every single time he touches you? *please*

× i think he knows before you know

× meanwhile he is working to discover his feelings too

× so your relationship slowly turns into a couple's like relationship but without anything official and of course no kissing or such [ sadly ]

× would get jealous easily

× basically because nothing is talked between you two and deep down is insecure

× why the hell do you smell like other people? was it just a hug or something else? hell, why would you even hug people when he's right there??? just ask and don't touch some extras????

× another thing he does is getting very close to you while you talk to somebody else; scoffs and glares at them too

× ok so!! gifts! he really appreciates any gift you give him but scolds you if you do because you genuinely don't need to do that

× of course he just scolds you and calls you an idiot so I do hope you already learned his language

× it basically means that you shouldn't have done it, he's really grateful but seriously you shouldn't have

× like that one time you saved up money to get him a good computer and he forgot how to speak for like an hour

× the softest thank you ever afterwards

× still sounded rough but he was shocked as fuck

× one thing that remained in your brain were his friends, as sometimes he'd mention them

× so you took it upon yourself to find them, of course with his permission

× gets genuinely overwhelmed and plays it off saying he wouldn't mind knowing where those idiots ended but you didn't miss the way his voice trembled

× for you to find them you needed names and any information he could provide so that's when he, after a long silence and a mesmerized look on his face, started really talking about his life

× which was fucked; won't get much into detail but he was indeed in a fighting ring, people came and bet on whoever was stronger, he even had to fight his friends, everything was filled with abuse and their conditions were subhuman...

× just overall awful

× you couldn't help but hug him tight, feeling him shake in your arms

× with a hesitant voice he asked if you really did think there was a chance to find them

× just couldn't believe how amazing he felt in your arms

× or how your determination that night made his heart clench and took a big weight off his shoulders

× anywho;;;; after his first paycheck he takes you out on cute dates

× never calls them that, just demands you dress up [helps you out cuz boy got style] and takes you to a nice coffee shop or something

× AND on your fifth not date cuz you're not official but there's this weird tension between you date he finally kinda s n a p s

× you honestly didn't expect the waiter to flirt with you, he came out as very pushy and even if you were a lil uncomfortable you smiled and brushed it off

× when the waiter suggested giving you his number the sandy blond hybrid growled

× which i shit you not made the whole coffee shop freeze

× and you froze too

× but neither of you could say anything because the oblivious fuck kept talking

× basically joking about how you should keep your pet in a leash, to which you got up, threw some money on the table, grabbed Bakugou by the hand and leave before he'd rip someone's head off

× it only took you to touch Bakugou's arm to calm him down as he followed behind you wordlessly

× so you stood outside, angry, deep red eyes on your figure

× and silence

× his hand still in yours

× it was warm and amazing and you felt angry but your heart was beating loudly; angry at the waiter that you wanted to go full Karen on and get fired but excited because that growl shook you to the core, as if you could tell it was territorial and it was because of that pig flirting with you and did Bakugou Katsuki just lace his fingers with you?!

× "Oi." he interrupted your thoughts

× he turned your frame towards him and pulled you [kinda harshly] into him

× you'd make a comment about it but brain empty, just Bakugou Katsuki blushing

× "You're mine, you get it?"

× skdjflglykshs

× it sounded like he asked but it was a demand so oops you're his now ok bye

× like I said, boy isn't dumb so he lowkey knew you felt something too

× legit from there on he's just soft as fuck

× has a hard time opening up but visibly tries for you

× still continues to be a pain in the ass, Bakugou Style, but with a loving teasing attitude behind it

× his eyes give him away all the time

× they shine whenever you're in his field of view so congrats because, and this is the best part:

× WOLVES MATE FOREVER 💕💓💞💗💝💟

× oh yeah, he's yours, no takebacks

× he isn't one to half-ass the relationship; you're his now and he'll do anything for you

× big time touch starved it hurts

× because he is shy

× so whenever you introduce him to hand holding and cuddles, he can't get enough

× not big on PDA [ and not recommended since human-hybrid relationships are kiiiinda frowned upon but it's getting better ]

× although at home it's another deal

× seriously cuddle him; he's big into the protector vibe so he's a big spoon almost exclusively unless it's to sleep on top of you

× speaking of! accept that even if your relationship isn't that intimate, he'd still hint about sleeping together in the same bed

× so you better catch on when he does because he'll just click his tongue and call you needy

× while dragging you to bed

× sleeps holding you, his nose in your hair or in the crook of your neck

× unless it's summer then stay on your side 💅

× you know those kisses that just scream "I can't get enough of you"? that's his whole kissing vibe in a sentence

× hell, even the gentlest kiss gives that vibe away and it'll 100% leave you breathless

× doesn't have experience but is a very fast learner

× pays very close attention to your body language

× really into biting your skin enough to leave marks

× wear his hoodies

× no, I'm fucking serious, wear them now

× his chest puffs and he turns into a blushing mess when you do it the first times because his scent is on you

× scenting is a big thing for him so of course he's gonna love it

× 10x more territorial because now he has a mate to protect

× jealous but trusts you

× still very jealous though

× let's all pretend he is definitely not scenting you before you go out because it's in his nature and it is embarrassing

× the first time he tells you he loves you it's when he's feeling vulnerable

× the search for his friends is still on-going, he feels less than adequate as a providing mate, is pissed at the world for treating him like an inferior animal when they created him, everything is piled on his shoulders and whenever than happens he closes off

× you notice immediately

× will not tell you at first

× it's only when you go to bed and he turns his back to you when you really know it's bad

× even if you fought before, he'd angrily snuggle you at night-time

× now it's so different

× hug him, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, pull a blanket all over you both and big spoon him, he'd start shaking and talking in no time

× will hide his tears from you but you'd know

× "You're the best fucking thing that happened to me, [Y/N]... I—... Shit... I love you so much."

× neither of you slept that night

× excuse you? drink some water and pray to jesus;;; you talked about feelings, ok? communication is key in a relationship, puh-lease

× [ i have this whole nsfw hcs post already cookin in my brain so maybe I'll make it happen cuz y'all know he has a mating season and all that comes with it 👀 ]

× back to being children of jesus here

× thanks the moon, the heavens and all the gods for putting you in his life; boy didn't believe in destiny but deep down he thinks you were meant to be

× you still better wash the dishes or you'll get your ass kicked.

Extra:

× you did find some of his friends, little by little, and even if he acted nonchalant, like k das cool, it was obvious he was extremely happy

× so they did get adopted too

× you got in contact with them on social media and they were all very excited about meeting

× so it was a chaotic meeting with a dog hybrid called Kirishima and a mouse like vibrat yellow guy called Kaminari

× they all were looking for Bakugou too since they were very worried about where he ended

× Kirishima shed manly tears when seeing Bakugou

× as they instantly welcomed you in their small group, they informed you both that the majority of the squad was adopted and they're in contact, while they're still actively looking for the others

× cue to the softest expression you've seen on Bakugou in public followed by "That's good"

× silence

× shock and silence

× Kaminari turning to you and whispering "You did this" with a hand on his heart, lips trembling as he wiped an imaginary tear

× insert instantly snappy Bakugou

× when everyone laughed and continued to make plans to meet up with the others, he just looked at you conversing with them, soft expression again on his features and his chest warming

× "Oh! Look, he's doing it again! Quick, take a pictur—"

× "SHINE!"

#bakugou katsuki x reader #noirewrites #hybrid!bakugou #hybrid!au #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #bnha x reader

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gleekto · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You (6/?)

Short Summary: Blaine coming of age in 1969. Columbia University. Hippie!Kurt. Elliott and Sebastian as Blaine’s mentor-friends. Unironic use of ‘groovy’. Coming out and fitting in and falling in love.

Amazing Poster by @caramelcoffeeaddict

For @slayediest who gave an inspired prompt for this way back when.

Day One, Day Two, Day Three, Day Four, Day Five

Day Six: Hideous

(Kurt)

"So I bet you're glad you went, right Kurt?" Rachel links arms with him as they make their way back to their rooms after the dorm rap.

"I am actually," Kurt nods, mostly to himself.

"Right?" Rachel says enthusiastically. "You never know when you might learn something new or feel validated or-"

"Not for those reasons, Rachel. I don't need anyone to validate me, thank you very much."

"Ohhh?" Rachel says with too much interest. "You said not to try to set you up and I was respecting that and I didn't say anything - But it's Elliott, isn't it?" Rachel is way too excited right now.

"No it's not Elliott, Rachel," Kurt rolls his eyes. "Though he was a great presenter. And handsome," Kurt says objectively.

"Oh it's the freshman Blaine! He was also very cute. Did you see his pretty eyes, Kurt?"

"Yes, Rachel. I saw his pretty eyes. And actually, I'd seen them before. He's in my music history class," Rachel clasps her hands together. "I didn't notice him at all, to be honest," Kurt needs to be very clear with her. "He seemed just as beige as everybody else. At least until he shared my appreciation for mocking the irritating brown noser who overtakes the class."

Rachel nods in approval. "This has lots of potential," He can just see the wheels turning in her head and he doesn't like it.

"Don't get any ideas, Rachel. I'm glad I went because now I maybe have someone to talk to in class. That's it."

"But you think he has pretty eyes," Rachel hints. "And it's pretty cool that he led that workshop, right? That's not beige at all." Kurt has got to admit that she has a point there. That took guts.

"I guess the workshop thing is pretty cool. And yes, he has pretty eyes. But I'm not that shallow, Rachel. Don't get any ideas."

"I won't," she says squeezing his arm.

She will.

...(Blaine)

The next day, Blaine has music history at 10am and he makes sure to get there early, a feat that is frankly against his nature, but Kurt is always there when he gets there and today he can't risk it. Suddenly there's a guy who knows the secret closest to his heart. Someone who he doesn't really know at all, and who frankly, doesn't likely want to be friends with the campus homosexual. Hippies are more open minded but a one on one friendship is different than a dorm rap session and he's not going to be the one to put pressure on Kurt. He'll sit down first - one row behind Kurt's usual spot - neither rejecting nor following. Ball's in his court. He opens his book.

A few minutes later and Blaine sees light pink bell bottoms that frankly would be hideous on anyone else. It's Kurt. And of course he pulls them off. The bell bottoms hesitate at the row in front of him, but then instead make their way into his row. Oh. And Kurt stops and sits right beside Blaine. Right beside.

"Hi Blaine."

"Hi Kurt." Blaine was not expecting this. He wasn't even hoping. Best case scenario was that they would smile at each other as they pass on their way out of class. Not that he was thinking about it. Blaine is caught off guard. He doesn't know what to say - a humorous and self deprecating apology to Kurt having too much information about him? No. The whole point of this thing is not to be ashamed. And Kurt came over to him. Besides, hippies are more open minded.

"It was cool that presentation you did for our dorm," Kurt starts but looks down quickly at his notebook, fidgeting with his pencil. Blaine knows how awkward it is to acknowledge the elephant in the room and Kurt does it. He honestly can't blame him for being slightly bashful - Blaine has been hiding this stuff his whole life. Everybody's uncomfortable talking about it. Especially straight guys.

"Thanks. You guys were a friendly audience."

"Yeah, I'm sure you don't always get a warm welcome."

"Well I'm new to all this - freshman and all that. But I already had 31 floor leaders refusing the dorm rap session-"

"Not surprised." Kurt shakes his head but Blaine can't read him so he just continues.

"Last year, Elliott said they managed to do 10 in total, but got asked at least three times if it was only a phase and would they be willing to turn back to God."

"Extra not surprised," Kurt sighs and looks irritated. Red flag. Kurt is finally talking to him and he's lecturing about homophobia.

"Yeah. Anyways, you guys seemed to actually be supportive of the cause. You know, walking the walk."

"Yeah, the hippie dorm is pretty great. Maybe a bit too much weed and a bit too few clothes, but the love is real."

"So you're not a stoner nudist then?" Blaine nudges him with his elbow. Was that flirty? Blaine did not mean to be flirty.

"My mantra is always the more clothes the better," Kurt grins and nudges back with a sparkle in his eye. Blaine feels warm all over.

"You do have great clothes," Blaine says in appreciation before he can catch himself. And now his cheeks are crimson.

"Why thank you," Is all Kurt says before Professor Cohen starts the lecture. Blaine thinks he even sees a quiet smile still on Kurt's face as he looks down at his paper. Kurt has the nicest smile.

When they exit the room together at the end of class, Kurt turns to him. "Maybe I'll check that group out sometime. Did you say Tuesdays at 7 at Earl Hall?"

Blaine's eyes go wide and he quickly reminds himself that they're open to all. "For sure -we're open to all our supporters. Yeah Tuesday at 7. That'd be cool."

"Groovy," Kurt says and quickly walks away.

Groovy.

#klaine spring fling #klaine spring fling hideous #can't take my eyes off of you #gleekto writes

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 3 years ago

Note

How'd you feel about writing Phileas bringing Aziraphale as a friend to breakfast at the Reform Club for the first time? Like I know that Aziraphale's already somewhat known there in your AU, but Bellamy would be petty about Phileas having him join their round, wouldn't he? I just like Bellamy not getting what he wants in every way possible and neither Phileas nor Aziraphale taking his bullshit xD

Oh! I like that! :D

Warning: implied homophobic comments, queer used in the sense of weird

On with the fic!

"I tend to come here in the afternoon, but I never pass up breakfast!" Aziraphale smiled as he walked alongside Phileas up the front steps of the Reform Club.

"Well, I figured since you are working in your shop, you won't be here all day." Phileas replied, removing his hat once inside, giving it and his coat to the hatcheck man at the front desk, Aziraphale following suit. "And I'd like to spend more time with you." He quickly added on, quietly, but Aziraphale still seemed to have caught it, judging by the glowing smile on his face.

"Oh, you're just a dear, Phileas." He laughed, giving his shoulder two small, quick pats before they returned to walking, going up the stairs and to the doors of the club.

Phileas felt rather nervous, he never brought anyone with him, aside from a few times that Grayson accompanied him when running errands. But Aziraphale was a member, he was known here, even if people considered him rather queer, a bit of a recluse, who rarely spoke to anyone unless if they wanted to hear him prattle on about something.

Still, Phileas found himself most comfortable in the company of this man, and was looking forward to breakfast today. He opened the doors for Aziraphale, letting him in first, before following after to his usual place.

Bellamy and Fortescue were there already, both looking quite surprised to see Aziraphale approaching their little nook in the room, giving them his most charming smile. "Good morning, gentlemen."

"Fell, did you need something?" Fortescue asked, clearly confused.

"Oh, just a chair, dear Phileas has invited me to sit for a meal with you three!"

Bellamy harrumphed at this, giving Phileas a hard look. Phileas, in turn, looked away to grab the newspaper, quickly turning to ask a waiter if he could be so kind as to pull up a chair for Aziraphale.

The young man nodded, replying in French, before going to grab a chair from somewhere else in the room. He was quick to bring it over, placing it between Bellamy's seat and Phileas'. "Thank you kindly." Aziraphale replied with the smile still on his face as he took his seat, prim and proper as normal.

"So, gentlemen, I don't often sit with people here, what do you enjoy doing while here?"

"Of course not, you're too busy with that strange redheaded man you used to hang around." Bellamy sniffed. "Whatever became of him anyway? Did he become ill, that's the bet going around here."

Phileas, as he took his seat, saw a dark look overcome Aziraphale's normally calm face, but it vanished, blink of the eye sort of situation. He folded his hands in his lap and let out a small breath. "My dear friend is currently busy in another part of the world for his job."

"Ah, a working man, eh?" Fortescue asked. "Never took him for the type, what with his rather... delicate features."

"Reminds me a lot of Foggy here, really." Bellamy commented, giving Phileas a pointed look. "Bet one day of labor would kill both men, if you ask me."

"Really, Bellamy, there is no need for such comments." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, turning to look at Phileas. "My friend here is able to lend a hand when needed. Why, just yesterday at my shop, he helped me organize two whole shelves into a particular order that made much sense to both of us, but I do believe would confuse a number of my customers."

"You simply said you wanted it organized in a specific way that you would know easily, and I figured that alphabetizing it according to publisher, then date of publication for the books themselves was a fitting idea." Phileas replied, feeling rather warm under the cover at the praise he was getting from Aziraphale.

"Ingenious sorting system! And you helped with it, rolled up your sleeves and everything." Aziraphale was still all smiles and Phileas was a bit overwhelmed with the praise, but he didn't hate it, in fact, he quite enjoyed it.

But clearly Bellamy saw no reason for any of that. "Hm, on again with one of your fantasy stories there, Fell? You always were good at telling a good story to keep some of the people here entertained."

The blond man deflated a bit, his smile falling. Fortescue cleared his throat loudly. "Maybe we should order our meals, gentlemen?"

As a waiter approached, a different one from before, Phileas turned to Aziraphale. "Thank you." He whispered softly. "I actually... had quite a jolly time helping you yesterday."

Yes, it had been a tiring task, and books are heavier than you'd expect, but he greatly enjoyed being able to sort and put things together in an order that made sense to him. His own personal library was in a similar state, he rarely let Grayson help him in there when he got an itch to redecorate his personal space.

"I'm glad you did." Aziraphale replied before placing his order, then Phileas. He quickly turned back to him, voice low. "Dear boy, don't think for an instance that I'm upset about what he said about me, I'm not. Trust me, I've heard much worse from more powerful people."

"Then why do you seem sad?"

"Because he hurt your feelings."

Phileas blinked, oh dear, he was feeling warm again. He sat back in his seat, coughing lightly as he looked over the paper. He could practically feel the warmth radiating from the smile that returned to Aziraphale's face.

He spared a glance, seeing Bellamy looking most displeased with him. Oh great, what had he done now?

"That was just divine, I really should come here more often in the morning!" Aziraphale smiled brightly as he took back his hat and coat from the front desk.

"Maybe we can do it again next week? I know tomorrow you're coming to my place for tea time." Phileas replied before thanking the man behind the counter for his own hat and coat, then got back his cane.

"Oh, splendid! We shall discuss the details then, I shall see you tomorrow!" Aziraphale nodded. "Have a lovely day, Phileas!"

"You as well, Aziraphale." Phileas nodded, smiling a little before he noticed someone approaching him. It was Bellamy and his smile dropped. "Did you need something?"

"A word, come." They moved a bit away from anyone else in the room and Bellamy was quick to glower. "What are you doing with him?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Everyone here knows that Fell is the black sheep of the club! Yes, he's a wealthy man and has contributed much to the club, but there's a reason most don't speak to him. Why he only ever hung out with that Crowley fellow before he vanished off the face of the Earth."

Phileas didn't like where this was going. "If you are referring to him being a life-long bachelor, then I am sorry, Bellamy, but that is not a strong reason for me to not be friends with him."

"Of course you wouldn't see the problem with this, you have your own rumors about you."

This made Phileas' skin prickle. "You know very well that I have loved only one person in my life, and it was Estella."

"Yes, but over twenty years later, you still have yet to be with anyone else."

"What can be said of you, Bellamy?"

"I am a busy man, and I prefer to not be tied down." He said with a smugness that made Phileas question why they were still friends. Probably because Phileas really didn't have anyone else in his life, that felt rather sad to think about.

He frowned, setting his hat on his head before putting on his coat. "Bellamy, I do not see any reason as to why I cannot be friends with Aziraphale. He is a delight to be around and he cares about my opinions and thoughts."

"Ah, that's it! You want encouragement for your silly ideas, and your peculiar hobbies, hm? Well, by all means, let the queer ones unite." Bellamy laughed and stepped away. "See you tomorrow, Foggy!"

Phileas watched him go back up the stairs and he huffed, wringing the cane in his hands. Oh, that Bellamy, always knows just how to get under his skin like that!

No matter, he would not let this bother him, he would not let some silly rumors and negative thoughts from anyone else ruin his new friendship.

Aziraphale was the best thing to happen to him in a long time, and he was not going to lose that so quickly.

Phileas has the biggest friend crush on Aziraphale right now, and Bellamy is an ass. He's also extremely jealous, so hence why he's so harsh.

Also, tiny bonus Passepartout because he's great. And he said he worked at the club long enough to notice Bellamy being a dick to Phileas, so...

#john's drabbles #around the world in 80 days #good omens #phileas fogg #aziraphale #good omens extended universe #let the adventure begin au

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

Text

Fic Rec Bingo!!

So instead of Fic Rec Thursday, I thought I'd do something a little different this week and recommend 25 fics based on this bingo card (although it turned into 26, oops). I kept most of these as CM because that's my blog's focus, but due to the nature of the prompts, there are 5 Marvel (Irondad) ones & 1 Sherlock towards the end!

from @lightveils on twitter, but found posted on tumblr by @cywscross <3

1. A fic with a premise that shouldn't work but does

I never would've thought I'd enjoy a fic with Spencer as a little rebellious shit because it seems so ooc, but I loved this one!

las vegas kid by trashcanbarbie - 1.9k, 1ch, Gen/Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Gambling, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Young Spencer Reid, Teenage Rebellion, Protective Aaron hotchner, Pre-Canon, Father-Son Relationship, Teenage Spencer Reid

JJ raises her eyebrows, “so, you're trying to say counting cards isn't cheating?” “No,” he grins, boyish and charming, “it is.”

2. A fic you've reread several times

Discipline Changes by fullofcrazyness - 1.2k, 1ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Comforting Hotch

Jack stopped and looked at his dad, finally seeing that his dad wasn’t actually angry. Concerned and relieved, but not angry. He was about to say something when he saw someone in the doorway, white as a sheet. “Papa?”

3. A comfort fic

i'm always tired, but never of you by @iamrenstark - 2.2k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad Derek, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Derek Morgan Needs a Hug, Men Crying, Gunshot Wounds, Blood and Injury

When Spencer figured it out, he was stepping out of the elevator on the bottom floor of Quantico, and he went to tell Derek he loved him like he did every day, but he froze up, because he was afraid he wouldn't hear it back. (Or, Spencer thinks his boyfriend is falling out of love with him.)

4. A cathartic fic

Every Little Transgression by @58thacademic - 1.6k, 1ch, Gen, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad Spencer Reid, Protective David Ross, Protective Derek Morgan, Mentioned Suicide Attempt, Spencer's Backstory, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Episode: s03e16 Elephant's Memory

Ok so. Elephants memory was really good because we got Reid backstory. But I'm still annoyed that he didn't defend himself against Hotch. So this was born.

5. A fic you'd print and put on your bookshelf

One Call Away by GhostInTheBAU - 204k, 32ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Dubious Consent, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Rape Recovery, Referenced Past Drug Use, PTSD, Hurt Spencer Reid, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Flashbacks, Healing, Nightmares, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Eventual Smut

When Reid's boyfriend attacks him, leaving him broken and bleeding, he calls the first person he thinks of for help. He calls the only person he really wants to see. He calls Hotch.

6. A fic you associate with a song

I associate this fic with The First Thing You See by Bruno Major. I think if you listen to the song, you'll easily see why <3

You Make Waking Up Worth It by @guccifloralsuits - 2.1k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Fluff, Minor Angst, Established Relationship, Morning Routines, Hurt/Comfort, Good Things Happen Bingo

“Morning sweetheart,” Derek says, pausing briefly to ruffle his hand gently through Spencer’s hair. The genius nuzzles into the touch but doesn’t reply. It’s too early for conversation, Morgan knows. Pretty boy may get up earlier than he does, but it takes the younger a lot longer to really wake up.

7. A fic that inspires you

This fic could have been in so many categories because I adore it, but I wouldn't have started writing Rain is a Chance to be Touched without this fic so it definitely belongs here.

Forgive Me For All I Could Not Become by @degrassi-fanatic - 105k, 20ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Angst, Case Fic, Confessions, Complicated Relationships, Near Death Experiences, Friends With Benefits, Smut, Miscommunication

In which Reid has always been good at hiding things. He hid his father's departure and his mother's illness from social services. He hid his addiction from his team. He hid his sexuality from the world. He hid his inappropriate feelings from his boss. That is until he's bleeding out in Hotch's arms, in an abandoned church, in Oklahoma. From there on out, Hotch and Reid learn to make a complete mess out of each other.

8. A fic that brought you on board a new ship

Even though it's unrequited, this was the first fic that really had me going !!! at Penemily <3

Another Wide-Eyed Girl by mallfacee - 2k, 1ch, Gen/Derek Morgan & Penelope Garcia, Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss (Unrequited), Coming Out, Internalised Homophobia, Derek Morgan is a Good Friend, Friendship, Gunshot Wounds, Episode: s03e08 Lucky

Derek Morgan is handsome and calls her “baby girl” and smiles at her like she’s the only girl in the room. Penelope Garcia knows she should be swooning and all she can think is that there must be something wrong with her not to react to a man like that giving her all this attention. Two years later she meets Emily Prentiss and understands.

9. A fic you wish could be a movie

Listen, I adore the soulmate trope, and an angsty moreid soulmate movie? Fucking sign me up right now

i need you now but i don't know you yet by @iamrenstark - 3.1k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt Derek Morgan, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Buford Mention, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Season 5

It goes like this; Spencer hasn't spoken to his soulmate since he was ten, didn't know their gender or their name or a single thing about them. Spencer's soulmate doesn't want him, and that's okay.

10. A fic that led to you making friends with the author

I'm doing two because fuck you that's why

This was one of the first fics I read of Adam's and I immediately fell in love with his writing! And I'm pretty sure that we ended up becoming friends after I rec'd it!!

Plum Sauce by @goldencatchflies - 1.5k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Jealousy, Platonic Morcia, Episode: s07e13 Snake Eyes

Garcia tells Spencer about what she thinks happened between her and Derek. He doesn’t seem too happy about it...

I read this from Syd and absolutely loved it, and like with Adam, we became friends from there! (I mean technically husband and wife, but, y'know. Semantics.)

You Belong With Me by @spencerspecifics - 11.4k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Song Fic, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Fluff

A fluffy Moreid fic based on You Belong With Me by: Taylor Swift

11. A fic you associate with a place

This reminds me of a chilled Sunday afternoon on my old sofa in my living room, with the fire on in the background. I read it all in one sitting and loved every word <3

Metanoia by @makaylajadewrites - 39k, 16ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Canon Typical Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Established Relationship, Near Death Experiences, Frostbite, Rape Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Spencer Reid, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending

Oh, Derek… He couldn’t stand the thought of him bursting in with SWAT in tow, gun at the ready, only to descend those creaky stairs and find his naked, bleeding body, vacated of life, crumbled on a red-stained mattress. The realization that he was going to die at the end of this was catching up to him, but maybe it would be better that way.

In which an unfortunate resemblance to an unsub's victims puts Reid right on his radar.

12. A fic that made you gasp out loud

Gasp out loud might be a *bit* of an overreaction, but this one took me on a rollercoaster and I loved every second of it (all of bau-gremlin's fics will do that to you tbh)

The End by @bau-gremlin - 3.1k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Graphic Violence, Stabbing, Blood and Injury, Temporary Character Death, Hurt Spencer Reid, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Aaron Hotchner, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Spencer Reid

The famous interview with Chester Hardwick ... except Hotch and Reid get separated and Reid is left alone with Hardwick and a prison-made shiv.

13. A fic you found at the right time

You're Going to be Okay by fullofcrazyness - 2.6k, 1ch, Gen/Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Dark, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Sad Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Depression, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

Spencer was no stranger to depression. His father leaving him, his mother’s episodes, being twelve years old in a Las Vegas high school. All of those things made him very familiar with the illness. “I… I think I need some help.”

14. A fic that you would read a fic of

Chain Reaction by EloquentDossier - 42k, 16ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Alternate Universe, Texting, Dialogue-Only, Text Fic, Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Past Drug Use, Canon Divergence, Pining, Oblivious Aaron Hotchner, Happy Ending

A dialogue-only AU in which Hotch texts what he thinks is Rossi's new number but is actually the slightly eccentric stranger whom Hotch knows only as "Spencer." What follows is something neither man could have ever quite expected.

15. A fic that made you laugh out loud

The Bet by @degrassi-fanatic - 1.6k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Bets & Wagers, Humour, Fluff, Canon Divergence

“Fifty bucks says Hotch writes you up and sends you to sexual harassment sensitivity training.” she declares as she stares him down. Without looking away from her, Reid takes out his own wallet and flips it open to pull out a fifty dollar before placing it down right next to Prentiss’s own money. “Fifty bucks says Hotch will go out with me.”

16. A fic that gave you butterflies

The healing and dynamics in this one is just.... off the charts :')

Who Spencer Reid Loves by @blueberriesandbubbles - 36k, 11ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Abusive Relationships, Domestic Violence, Abuse, Hurt Spencer Reid, Mutual Pining, Rape Recovery, Healing, Fluff

Derek Morgan has been in love with the resident genius as long as he's known him. When Spencer enters a relationship with a mystery man, Derek is unhappy. He is even more unhappy when he meets this man. Spencer starts acting different and Derek knows something is wrong and he has a feeling its connected to the man Reid is dating.

17. A fic that embodies something you value in life

The utter and total love and devotion in this fic just punches me right in the gut every time I reread it

A Little Fall of Rain by jack_hunter - 4.3k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Spencer Reid Whump, Autistic Spencer Reid, Major Character Injury, Secret Relationship, Team as Family, Dad Rossi

Morgan crept up behind the doctor and snatched the headphones off of his head, earning a yelp of a protest as he slipped them over his own ears. “Les Mis?” Morgan asked with a quizzical look, “didn’t peg you as the musical type, Pretty Boy.” Spencer snatched the headphones back. “I’ve always loved the theatre and I went to see Les Misérables with-... a friend last Friday.”

18. A favourite AU

The Curious Case of Dr. Reid by severaance - 37k, 10ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Transgender Character, Fluff, Trans Spencer Reid, Light Angst, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Smut, Insecurity, Happy Ending (Warning for Homophobic & Transphobic Slurs)

"And your names for the order, please?" The barista asked, eyes flickering expectantly between the two before her. "Spencer," she answered, although she was not talking to the barista. "I'm Spencer." The man before her had the same idea. "Derek."

19. A fic you stayed up too late to finish reading

I stayed up one night and read pretty much all the marvel fics this author has written, but this was the last one that I simply could not resist. The next day wasn't pretty :/

The more you say, the less I know by forthenightisdarkandfullofterror - 13.9k, 3ch, Gen/Irondad, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Amnesia, Protective Pepper Potts, Not Endgame Compliant, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Blood and Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Whump

Tony wakes up from snapping with amnesia and for the life of him can't remember the kid hanging around, claiming to be 'just an intern'. Feelings get hurt.

20. A fic that made you feel seen

heavy in my bones by hopeless_hope - 4.4k, 1ch, Gen/Irondad, Chronic Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Whump, Father-Son Relationship, Dad Tony, Worried Tony Stark, Angst, Chronic Illness, 5+1 Things

Five times Peter lied to someone about his chronic pain, and one time he told the truth and got the help he needed.

21. A fic you love without knowing the source material

(I mean this is literally all marvel fics but I'll rec this one because I loved it so much)

the locker room by searchingforstars - 15.5k, 3ch, Gen/Irondad, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Arguing, Miscommunication, Crying, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rape Recovery

Peter's falling apart and he doesn't know how things will ever go back to normal again after Ryder.

22. A fic you've gushed about IRL

Genuinely, this fic is better than most published fiction I've read...

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - 220k, 37ch, Gen/Irondad, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse, Alternate Universe, Hurt Peter Parker, Foster Care, Identity Reveal, Slow Build, Disordered Eating, Homelessness

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves. Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on. And that’s when things get complicated.

23. A fic you still remember many years later

The Transport Series by ancientreader - 135k, 2 works, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Backstory, Canon Drug Use, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Physical Disability, AU, Important Character Death, First Time, Developing Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Humour, Fluff

How to become a consulting detective. // Jim's lessons are hard to unlearn.

24. A fic with a line or two that you've memorised by heart

"He has held up buildings and nuclear bombs and whole entire countries on his back. Peter’s body is the heaviest thing he’s ever held."

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by @madasthesea - 4.4k, 2ch, Gen/Irondad, Temporary Character Death, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Crying, Forehead Kisses, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Hugs, Platonic Cuddling

But he knows. He knows. He can feel it. Peter’s dead. Peter Parker watches as Tony carefully arranges his limbs on a cot. “Mr. Stark,” he tries for the dozenth time. No one hears him.

25. Free Space

And to round it off, we have to celebrate the fic that really and truly welcomed me into the CM fanfic world...

Chanel by @4x24 - 24k, 7ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Getting Together, Spencer Wears Makeup, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Typical VIolence, Humour, Fluffy Ending, Pining, Smut Heavy

Penelope mentions offhandedly one night that she thinks Spencer might look good in makeup. Spencer takes the suggestion to heart. Derek likes the new look - and Spencer - more than he probably should. (Season 4)

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jungwonenthusiast · 4 years ago

Note

PHEW FINALLY A WRITER WITH OPEN REQUESTS--- so i have been kinky asf EBEGHDFJC and i was imagining maths teacher jaehyun x english teacher reader x science teacher yuta.... THAT'LL BE SO HOT HWBGSEJFNFVH IM SORRY I'D LOVE IF U DO THIS,, with jaehyun having size kink and yuta having corruption kink and reader with thigh riding kink + also do it only if u want to im not forcing mwah take care.. <3

warnings: threesome (mxmxf), unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving)

A/N: hi ofc!! i’m sorry for this taking forever lol I've had family visiting (also this has not been proof read so forgive me for any mistakes)

“I’m gonna need the library today,” you hear Mr. Jung say to you as you sip your morning coffee.

You furrow your brows. “I told you last week that I was gonna be using it.”

He shrugs. “Principal administered a presentation about college for the kids, there’s nothing I can do.”

You resist rolling your eyes and walk over to Yuta. You two had been friends since high school and enjoyed gossiping about the other teachers over a glass of wine.

“I can’t stand him.” you scowl.

“It’s Mr. Jung isn’t it?” Yuta asked. “What did he ever do to you?”

“I told him that I needed the library today last week and he took it anyway.” you complain.

Yuta chuckles. “I think you’re just mad at him for taking your place as hottest teacher.”

You elbow him in the side, giggling. “Fuck off. He isn’t that hot anyway.”

“That hot?” Yuta raises an eyebrow. “So you do think he’s hot.”

“I can admit when another human is good looking alright? It doesn’t mean anything.” You shrug him off and he nods.

“Whatever you say y/n.”

You enter the principal’s office after school to complain about the library situation only to meet Mr. Jung there. You side eye him a bit.

He sighs. “What your deal Ms. y/l/n? I’m sorry I took the library but it wasn’t my choice.”

You ignore him.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you. I’m only here to make sure you get the library tomorrow.”

Your ears perk up at that. “Really?”

He nods. “Mhm. So are we good now?”

You cross your arms. “I suppose.”

He smiles. “Wanna go for coffee? Now that we’re friends?”

“Who said we were friends.” You cock an eyebrow.

He chuckles and leads you out of the office.

You drive separately and meet him at a nearby cafe.

You sit down in front of each other and order lattes and scones.

“So when did you start working at the school?” He asks you”

“About a year ago,” you reply. “how about you?”

“A couple months ago.”

You nod. “What made you want to become a teacher, we don’t get paid shit.”

He chuckles while adjusting his watch. “I taught my little sister how to read and write when I was in middle school and those are some of my favorite memories. What about you?”

You shrug. “My mom was a teacher.”

He chuckles again. You notices his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

You take a sip of your latte, trying to ignore the silence.

He clears his throat. “So what’s with you and Nakamoto?”

“Yuta?” you ask and he nods. “We’ve been friends from highschool.”

“Ahh okay.” he hums. “I bet he was a stoner.”

You laugh.

“I’m right huh?” Mr. Jung smiles.

“I mean you’re not wrong.” you take a bite out of your blueberry scone.

He points at your chin. “You got a bit of-“

You swipe at your face, trying to get the crumbs off but he reaches over and wipes them off himself. You struggle not to roll your eyes again. What a Disney prince prick, you think.

You converse about everything and anything for maybe half and hour.

“Really Ms. y/l/n?” he asks.

“You can call me y/n.”

He smiles. “You can call me Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun, Jaehyun. You roll the name around in your head. It suits him.

“Shit,” he says suddenly.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I think I left my phone in the principal’s office,” he says. “do you mind coming with me? I don’t know where the key is.”

You sigh and nod.

You meet him at the school and scavenge around your desk for the key.

He’s leaving against your door frame and you can’t help but notice how good he looks.

You want to touch him so bad. Feel the muscles under his dress shirt.

You bend over to look into one of your drawers, pointing your ass towards him on purpose only a little.

“I’m not sure where they are.” you groan and stand up. “Let’s check Yuta’s room, maybe he has them.”

You walk over to Yuta’s class with the only sound being your shoes clicking against the floor. You can feel him behind you though, a little closer than usual.

You push Yuta’s classroom door open to find him sitting at his desk grading papers.

“You’re still here?” you ask as he looks up at you. His eyes dart over to Jaehyun.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have some tests to finish grading, what’s up?”

“I need the key to the principal’s office, Jaehyun left his phone in there.”

He gives you a look that says when did you start calling him Jaehyun?

Yuta hands you the keys and runs a hand through his hair. “Have fun.” he says and you scoff.

“I hate you.” you say as you walk away.

“You know you love me.” he calls after you.

You and Jaehyun walk back to the office and snoop around for his phone.

“I can’t find it.” you say.

“Neither can I.” he says. You turn to him and notice that he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. You swallow thickly. “What wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “let’s keep looking.”

You bend over to check under the desk when you feel him bump into you. You almost giggle, he’s not even subtle with it.

“Excuse you.” you tease.

“Sorry, sorry.” you can hear the shyness in his voice. “I actually didn’t leave my phone here.”

You turn to look at him. “Huh?”

He’s rubbing at his wrists. “Yeah.”

“I don’t get it.” you put your hands on your hips.

“I just-“ he hesitates. “wanted to get you alone.”

“Oh?” you say. “Well that’s a little...”

“Creepy yeah I know I just didn’t know what else to do.” he says hastily. “I like you y/n.”

You smirk and subconsciously take a step towards him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he whispers and dips down to kiss you.

Your arms wrap around his waist.

He kisses you softly like you’re a blooming daisy. His hands run down your body and he picks you up, hooking your legs around him. He sits down in the office chair and when he does you can feel his length against you. He got hard so quick, you think, I wonder how long he’s been thinking about this for. You shift your weight onto his thigh and grip onto his shoulders before rolling your hips. You can tell he’s a bit taken aback. You smile and kiss at his neck. It doesn’t take him long to take control though. He wraps one arm around your waist and keeps the other on your hips and he grinds you against him. You feel a whine escape from your mouth when you’re disrupted by the sound of a door opening.

“Whoa,” it’s Yuta.

You shoot up and adjust your top. “Uhm hey.”

He scoffs. “Don’t mind me, continue what you were doing.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, crossing his arms. “I wanna watch.”

“What? No.” you say sternly but you feel your heart thump a bit when he starts walking towards you.

“Come one angel,” he says in a sultry tone you’ve never heard before. “for me?”

You start to feel a heartbeat somewhere else.

He pushes you back intro Jaehyun’s thigh but this time your back is facing him.

Yuta kisses you. “Ride his thigh y/n.”

You hesitate.

“You should do what I say, you don’t want to be punished right?”

Jaehyun grips your hips again and pushes you against him.

Yuta holds your face in his hands. “I never knew you were so dirty like this my precious y/n. It makes me wonder what you’ve done with all of your boyfriends over the years.”

You tug at his belt to get him to stand up and he does. You palm him through his pants.

He pets your head before picking you up and laying you down on the large empty desk. He tugs your to the end of the desk and spreads your legs.

“Can I?” he asks and you nod vigorously.

Jaehyun leans down and gives you a kiss. He starts to unbutton your shirt as Yuta tugs your pants down.

“Look at you,” Jaehyun coos. “so small and pretty under me.” he pulls your bra off and starts kissing your chest.

You breathing becomes labored as Yuta’s fingers rub your clit. You squeeze his hand.

“Please?” you ask him.

“Of course.” he pulls your underwear to the side and gives you an agonizingly slow lick before diving into you.

You gasp a bit and grip at Jaehyuns arms. “Fuck,” you moan.

If I knew he was this good I would’ve done this a while ago, you think.

You hear Jaehyun unbuckle his belt and you’re eager to reach up and stroke him.

You soon take him into your mouth and suck him slowly, circling your tongue on his tip over and over. But soon your technique becomes sloppy as Yuta’s tongue on your clit starts to take over your mind.

You feel your legs begin to tremble and Jaehyun pulls out of you. He gives your neck softly.

“Does it feel good?” he asks and you nod. “What a naughty girl, getting that pretty pussy eaten on your boss’s desk.”

He kisses your chest again, leaving blotchy red marks.

“Fuck her now.” he tells Yuta.

Yuta pulls away from your pussy and wipes your juices off with his finger before holding them up to your mouth.

“Suck.” he says.

You open your mouth and take his fingers as deep as you can.

“Good girl.” he says. That makes your thighs clamp together. Yuta smiles. “Do you like when I call you that?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

“Then listen to what we say and you’ll be hearing it all night.” he unbuckles his belt and gives himself a few strokes. He rubs the tip over your clit a few times before pushing into you.

The whine and grab onto Jaehyun’s arm.

“You love getting your pussy stretched huh.” he says while reaching down to run circles on your clit.

“Yes,” you say pathetically. You whine. “fuck that feels good.”

Yuta thrusts into you slowly a couple of times before snapping his hips into yours.

Your loud moan is muffled by Jaehyun’s hand over your mouth.

“Hush my love, don’t want to get caught do we?” he says while giving your nipple a small pinch.

Your whines and whimper grow louder as Yuta continues to pound you.

Jaehyun leans down and gives you a kiss. “Are you close sweetheart?”

You nod. You can feel your eyes starting to tear up.

“How badly do you want it?” Yuta asks.

“Really bad,” you exhale. “please make cum.”

Jaehyuns fingers on your clit start to fasten.

“You can do it,” he says lowly. “cum on that cock.”

You grip onto Jaehyun for the hundredth time of the night as you finally climax. Your eyes roll back and you’re embraced by euphoria itself.

“Fuck that’s hot.” Jaehyun growls.

Yuta pulls out of you and watches his cum drip onto the desk.

Jaehyun peppers your forehead with kisses as Yuta grabs napkins to clean you up.

“I never thought you’d be down for something like this.” he says while helping you pull your underwear up.

“Me neither to be honest.” you giggle.

“Next time I get to fuck her.” Jaehyun says and you tsk him.

“I’ll be the one to decide that.” you say.

#nct #nct smut #jaehyun smut #yuta smut

149 notes · View notes

coldmilkcreamery · 4 years ago

Text

lux in tenebris

~ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ~

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: jung jaehyun x male reader 🌹🥀

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4182

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: set in the 1960’s, your relationship with Jaehyun blooms as you navigate a time when homosexuality is unacceptable.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀: hinted homophobia (but never shown)

𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 🌙

𝗮/𝗻: because valentines is jaehyun’s birthday !! hbd to my first bias <3 this story is so so fluffy, which is so unusual for me because i’m an angsty writer 🥴 also, i thought of this story while listening to ‘put your head on my shoulder’ !! every time i would write a part, i would listen to it <3 this is the longest story i’ve written, surpassing memories (which is also a jaehyun one btw, i think this unintentionally proves my dedication to him) !! i hope u guys like this because i’ve worked the hardest on this 🥺 happy valentines everyone ! <3

> 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 <

(some time in the 1960s~)

Everybody thought they were friends. The class-skipping, the after-school hangouts, the dinners at Anka’s Diner—everybody thought they were friends. And truly, they were.

But is that really all they were?

“So…” Jaehyun asks as they walk down the halls of Neo High, “Anyone approach for Valentine’s yet? I bet you’ve gotten more than three people to ask you out by now.”

Y/N chuckles, lightly shoving Jaehyun as the latter chuckles as well. “Man, stop it. No one asked me out. And who are you to say that? Star athlete, 6 pack abs, Jaehyun of the Neos, I'd say… 6 girls?”

“7, actually.” They both giggle as Jaehyun continues, “But… I shot all of them down.”

They both near Y/N’s locker, Jaehyun leaning on the ones beside as the former opens his and gets some books out. “Why? 7 girls… neat.”

“I have my eyes on someone else.” Jaehyun says, looking up, blushing at the ceiling, glad that Y/N’s locker door is obstructing the latter’s view of his face.

“Lucky girl.” Y/N says, nonchalantly as he closes the door to his locker. “She’ll say yes, don’t worry.”

“Sure hope they do. So… I'm guessing you're still on the make? You know, looking for a date?” Jaehyun says curiously, unknowingly hoping for a certain answer.

“I told you no one asked me out. And honestly, I’m fine with that. It's a Saturday on the 14th—maybe I should just stay home and listen to the radio.”

“Aww. That's fine little man.” Jaehyun says as they begin their trek towards their classes. “Maybe you could go out with me…” His voice softens, not wanting to alert those around them, “If you can't find anyone.”

Y/N chortles, smacking Jaehyun on the shoulder once again, “Kinda gay ain't it?”

“Nothing wrong with it.”

“You think the people around us’ll say the same?”

Jaehyun hums in acknowledgement as he fixes his tie, replying, “Okay then. Well, see ya’ later alligator.”

Y/N smiles as he sends the boy a wink, entering his classroom as the latter walks to his.

They both knew it. It was mutual knowledge. But unspoken. It was unspoken knowledge. The sly touches, the flirting—they both knew it.

But neither have made a real move yet.

“If you had one thing you could do right now, without being interrupted—without any distractions,” Jaehyun says, lying down on Y/N’s bed, throwing a baseball up in the air as he asks, “what would it be?”

“Hm.” Y/N ponders, pausing the movement of his pencil over the créme sheet of paper, placing it down. “Maybe…” he looks out the window, observing the orange to black ombré, “Moongazing. I just love the moon. The stars too.”

“You always talk about the moon.” Jaehyun stops throwing the white ball knitted with red fabric, catching it on one hand as he sits up. “What’s so bewitching about it anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N continues writing, the graphite marking the pages as it produces the only sound in the room apart from their voices. “It’s… calming. Not to mention, the twinkling stars look pretty too.”

“Twinkle twinkle little star…” Jaehyun sings softly as Y/N chuckles, throwing a pillow at the former.

“If you don’t believe me—”

“I do. I’ll take you for your word.” Jaehyun replies almost instantly. “I always do.”

“Neat. Now flake off. The sun is setting. You live three streets away, and I don't want you walking in the dark alone.” Y/N gets up from his seat at the window, turning to face Jaehyun.

“Walk me home then.” Jaehyun replies, a smirk on his face.

“That would mean I would be the one walking home alone in the dark, you dork.”

“Alright, alright.” Jaehyun replies, getting up from Y/N’s bed to give him a long, warm hug. Their bodies separate as Jaehyun blows Y/N a kiss, walking out the bedroom door, getting a snort in return.

The marmalade sun hides itself on the horizon as Y/N looks out the window, waving to Jaehyun as the latter walks out their front yard, beginning his journey home.

Oh God, was he falling.

It was getting increasingly difficult to resist. The sneaky flirts, the clever comebacks—it was getting increasingly difficult to resist.

And maybe he should stop doing so.

“Baby~” Jaehyun sneaks up on Y/N, whispering the words as the latter stiffens in surprise before smacking him lightly in the face.

“Dude. You gotta stop saying shit like that.” The boy sitting on his assigned chair replies, looking up at Jaehyun who is now seated on his desk. “Why are you here anyways? Don’t you have class soon?”

“You do.” Jaehyun replies, pointing at Y/N before pointing at himself, “I don’t. My first subject isn’t ‘till 9.”

“Hm.” Y/N mumbles as he looks back down on the sheet of paper with two unanswered math problems waiting to be solved. “Well, I forgot to complete this last night because I was too pre-occupied with English, and there’s five minutes left ‘till my class starts so I really gotta finish this.”

“Maybe you don’t.” Jaehyun replies, a plan already devising itself in his mind. “Do you maybe wanna… go to the park?”

Y/N looks up, a smirk forming on his face as he observes the same smirk on Jaehyun’s. They hold a stare for about five seconds before Y/N shoves the gray sheet of paper into his backpack, not caring if it was getting crumpled. In laughing fits, both boys run out the hall and eventually out the school too. Slowing down from their marathon-like sprint, they don't notice that they have their fingers interlocked. Y/N realizing this, he quickly untangles them as he straightens his uniform, Jaehyun unconsciously bummed out.

“Well,” Y/N says, looking up at Jaehyun who was already staring at him, “lead the way, my good sir.”

Jaehyun bows as he jokes, “Why of course, Milady. I’ll have you back in school by 9, just in time for your second subject.”

Both giggle as they skip to the grassy park, unknowingly spending the whole day out of school.

Maybe it was something in the air. Something they inhaled, passing their airways as it made its way to their heart, freeing them from their icy restraints. Maybe it was something in the air—or maybe something in the grass. But it made them both come out of their shells.

What took that damned O₂ so long to enter their lungs?

“Oh shit.” Y/N realizes halfway through fawning about a low-graphic, black and white but new cartoon that had just come out. He looks down on his right wrist as he scoffs. “You said you’d get me back in school by 9.” He says, annoyed, looking up at Jaehyun, “It’s 9:05”.

Jaehyun chuckles innocently, planting his palm on the back of your shoulder. “Well… if people see us here in the park when we’re supposed to be in class… we’ll get detention for skipping.” He says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, totally didn't know that, Jae.” Y/N says, facetiously.

“Well… we could go to the movies? Or the fair…” Jaehyun brings his lips closer to Y/N ears as he whispers convincingly, “Or both.”

The flustered pulls away, hands pushing Jaehyun towards the opposite direction. “Fine. But I didn't bring my wallet today.”

“What do you want me to do about that?” Jaehyun replies, a look of sarcasm cascading his face. Y/N rolls his eyes before staring straight into Jaehyun’s, cracking his knuckles. Before he could get a word out, Jaehyun already surrenders. “Okay, okay! Calm down dude.” He chuckles. “But on one condition.”

“I’m listening.” Y/N replies, crossing his legs.

“Be my Valentine. For tomorrow.”

“W-”

“Dude, you don't have a valentine, I don't have a valentine—”

“Because you turned them all down!”

“Okay fair enough.” Jaehyun admits, “But it's not like I can ask them out again, it would be too humiliating for big ole’ Jae, wouldn't it?” He pouts, sticking his bottom lip out as he stares into Y/N’s eyes.

Y/N contemplates, sighing after a minute as he replies, “Fine.”

Jaehyun jumps in glee as he cheers, acting like a kid whose parents agreed to buy them ice cream.

“Just take me to the movies already.” Y/N sighs yet again, scratching his head as the taller calms down, bowing facetiously.

“Of course, Milady.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

The popcorn was exceptional. Splendid indeed. The pop of flavor just made everything fall into place. The popcorn was exceptional—maybe that’s why Jaehyun held the bag so cautiously.

And soon enough, that won’t be the only thing he’ll be holding—and eating, too.

“Mmmh.” Jaehyun moans as he sips his pop, taking a handful of popcorn right after.

“Dude, stop! We haven't even gotten in the theater yet and you're already devouring everything.” Y/N whines, upset. “By the time the movie starts, we’ll have nothing!”

“Chill,” Jaehyun replies, taking one last sip from his straw before he smiles at Y/N, “we can just buy another one.”

“You’re just wasting money.” Y/N groans, not wanting Jaehyun to spend any more.

“Okay, okay.” He replies, sealing his popcorn as they wait to be let in the theater.

Was it the popcorn in the theater? Something that gave Jaehyun the courage. Because Jaehyun had not been this bold 6 months ago. Was it the popcorn in the theater—or was it the soda pop?

It didn't matter. What he was going to do with his newly-found virtue did.

In the darkness, the mono-colored movie played as the bag of popcorn was set in between the boys.

“Remind me why we decided to watch a romance movie again?” Y/N brings his lips closer to Jaehyun’s ears as he whispers, not wanting to disturb the rest.

“People say it’s a good movie.”

“They both die.”

Jaehyun peels his eyes away from the screen to stare at Y/N, a look of disbelief washing over his face. “You just spoiled the movie for me.”

“Everybody knows the story of Romeo and Juliet.” Y/N replies, rolling his eyes.

“Well, I don’t.” Jaehyun whispers, looking back at the projected movie, correcting himself, “Didn’t. I guess I do now.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t know though.” Y/N remarks, grabbing popcorn from their shared bucket, staring at the movie playing.

“Now I do, and…” Jaehyun looks at Y/N once again, his cheeks burning as he braves and says, “I guess it’s a good thing we’ll both be Romeos tomorrow.”

Y/N lightly chuckles, trying to ignore what Jaehyun had just said, keeping his eyes glued to the movie.

Unsatisfied with Y/N’s reaction, Jaehyun slips his fingers past the bucket of popcorn and onto Y/N’s, resting on the armrest. With the sudden weight and warmth on his hand, Y/N tenses—but doesn’t look at Jaehyun. Rather, he watches the movie intently, silently hoping he doesn’t give in.

Jaehyun leans closer to Y/N, lips right next to his ears as he whispers, “I’m cold.”

And he gives in.

Their fingers interlock in the dark of the theater, the sounds of dialogue from the movie filling the enclosed space up. No one can see them—it’ll be alright.

Jaehyun always found rings cute. A cheese ring, a metal ring, the ring around Saturn. Jaehyun always found rings cute,

But his greatest wish was to put a diamond one around Y/N’s finger.

“This is a scam.” Y/N retorts, hands crossed. He stares at Jaehyun as they stand in line for a hoop game on the board walk’s carnival, a few minutes after their exit from the theater.

“There’s no harm in trying.” Jaehyun replies, his eyes on the prize—a teddy bear the size of a toddler.

“That’s like saying ‘There’s no harm in getting scammed’, Jae.”

“Well,” Jaehyun cheekily replies, smirking as he blurts, “there’s no harm in getting scammed for you.”

Y/N looks at Jaehyun in disbelief as the flirt grabs 3 round hoops, preparing to land them on the moving bottles. Much like Y/N’s prediction, the first hoop falls too early and too far from the bottles, the second slides off after nearing and the third one flies too far and hits the stall owner. Jaehyun cringes as the owner painfully smirks, the feeling of victory of scamming another customer engulfing the latter’s mind, accompanied by the feeling of pain from the metal object recently hurled at his stomach.

“At least we have consolation candy?” Jaehyun’s face agonizes, embarrassment taking over.

“At least we have consolation candy.” Y/N repeats, grabbing a handful as he smiles at the owner and makes a 180°, leaving the booth. Jaehyun follows behind, hands in his pocket as he looks around the fair.

“Oooh,” Jaehyun interests, “What about that one?” He says, pointing at the game with a man in his 20’s trapped inside a container with water below, fate depending on his partner’s aim at the target.

“How about no?” Y/N replies, chuckling shortly after, “If you like water so much…

how do you feel about the beach?”

Tonight was the night. It wasn’t the 14th—it was the day before. But Jaehyun was more than confident enough to make a move. Tonight was the night—and nothing could go wrong.

Or so he hopes.

The tangerine sun meets the navy water once again, its center resting at the edge of the coast. Both boys walk down the beach, hands in pockets as they keep their feelings in.

“Pretty isn’t it?” Jaehyun perks up as he stares at Y/N breaking the silence. “The sun setting.” Jaehyun nods as Y/N continues. “It’s a shame that it’s disappearing soon. Give it a few minutes more and there won’t be a trace of orange on the sky.”

“It’s just how it is.” Jaehyun replies.

“Exactly.” Y/N gleams, the wind blowing on his shirt. “As much as I love seeing the sun, and as much as I hate seeing it go, I see it as a good thing too.”

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun replies, sparkles in his eyes as he stares at Y/N, only the calm waters and the sun’s secant behind him.

“I see it as, ‘if you love something, you have to let something else go’, or something of the sort.” Y/N chuckles, his hands still in his pockets, “I love the sun so much, but if it means seeing the night sky again, I’d give it up every single day, every single time, every single chance I get.”

“You must love the moon and stars so much, huh.” Jaehyun awes as his skin glows under the dying sun’s radiating tint.

Y/N nods as both boys settle down on a spot by the ocean, watching the sun submerge, darker and bluer hues taking over the early evening sky. They sit there for a few minutes, staring at the ocean waves, thinking about their current situation. As they contemplate, the sky has completely changed, from warm hues into cooler and darker ones, the moon showing itself first.

“There you go.” Jaehyun chuckles, laying his back on the sand as he points up, “Your favorite.”

Y/N follows the direction Jaehyun’s finger is pointing at as he looks up at the indigo atmosphere, a faint, glowing crescent standing out. He beams as he appreciates the moon’s presence, basking in it. “Thank you for today, Jae.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t forget about tomorrow okay?”

Y/N nods as he gets up, dusting his shorts off from the sand. The other gets up as well, doing the same as Y/N watches.

Just as the latter is about to leave, Jaehyun speaks up. “Wait!” Y/N faces him once again, a sparkle on his eyes as he wonders why he was called back. “I— I have something to say.” Jaehyun shivers, clenching his fists as he breathes in and out, preparing himself for his own confession. “For the longest time I’ve— I’ve looked up to you and I just wanna say,” Y/N raises his eyebrows, the sound of waves crashing onto the beach filling his ears, “I like you.”

‘I like you’. The words ring in Y/N ears, the syllables painting his eardrums with love. It seems great at first but then he remembers—the predjudice, the shame, the disgrace, the dishonor—and doubles back. “Y-you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.” Jaehyun says as he inches closer to Y/N, his hand grazing the latter’s cheek as he pulls closer. Their lips touch under the moonlight, the stars and benthics as their witness. The taste of strawberry fills Y/N’s taste buds, the savory flavor of intimacy filling his mouth. With the doting feeling of passion engulfing Y/N’s body, he kisses back. They move in sync for a few seconds until Jaehyun pulls away, the feeling of endearment filling his mind as he registers that he had just kissed Y/N—the one he's been pining for for the past few years. Of course, that feeling isn't long-lasting as he notices Y/N take a step back, fear in the latter’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun questions, his words coming out as a mere whisper. Y/N doesn't reply as he takes more steps back, mortified. Jaehyun reaches his hand out—and that’s all it takes to send Y/N running.

He sprints the opposite direction, ignoring Jaehyun’s shouts behind him. Adrenaline rushes through his veins as his shoes hit the sand continuously, fear and disappointment fueling his run.

Jaehyun is left alone, under the moonlit beach, and instead of hearing his beloved’s voice, only the sound of waves fill his ears, sending him into full regret.

Was it like water? Sometimes everything would be blithe—calm, tranquil water, their insouciant selves enjoying the world. But sometimes it would be erratic too—the unpredictable waves engulfing them and their relationship. Was it like water—their love for one another?

Jaehyun just hopes it wouldn’t dry up.

“Thought I’d find you up here.” Jaehyun mutters as he closes the rooftop door, making a sound as it closes again. It’s been a few hours since the beach incident, the moon already glowing brighter. “Look, I’m sorry for kiss–”

“Don’t be.” Y/N replies, keeping his voice as stern as possible, despite already being on the verge of tears. “It was great, I just,” Y/N pauses, takes in the night sky’s view for the last time before he breaks down, and plants his eyes on Jaehyun, still by the rooftop door. “Don’t you think this is wrong?”

“What is?” Jaehyun replies, already knowing the answer he would receive.

“This.” Y/N replies, whining dejectedly as he gets up from his sitting position, facing Jaehyun. “This is. We’re both guys, we shouldn't be flirting, let alone kissing!”

“Why does it matter?” Jaehyun questions, stepping forward as he tries his best to keep his tears in.

“It just does Jaehyun!” Y/N yells back, the exact opposite of Jaehyun’s hushed tone, his voice echoing out into the night sky. “It just does.” He repeats, tears pooling on the corner of his eyes.

“If it does, then…” Jaehyun steps back, the feeling of woe engulfing him, “you never liked me the same way I like you.”

“No!” Y/N replies almost immediately, a tear already slipping out, painting his right cheek, “I, I like you Jae, I like you so fucking much. Every single moment we’ve had, every single moment we’ve shared—I relish every bit of it. I can’t stop liking you—I’ll never stop liking you. But,” Y/N pauses, “I’m scared.”

Jaehyun steps closer to Y/N, pulling him into his embrace as the latter cries out onto his shoulder, tears staining his t-shirt, “Don’t be.”

“But I am.” Y/N replies, sniffing as he tightens his grip on Jaehyun’s body. “I’m scared of everything—What if people talk bad about us, behind our backs? What if our parents kick us out? What if we get expelled? What if—”

“Shh.” Jaehyun shushes, his hand rubbing Y/N’s back slowly, the strokes calming the latter down. “Stop thinking about the ‘what ifs’, just focus on me.”

“I’m sorry, I know I overthink a lot.” Y/N mumbles, pulling away from their embrace as he looks Jaehyun in the eyes, the moonlight shining on them. “I’m just… scared of the darkness that awaits, you know?”

“I get you.” Jaehyun replies as he stares at Y/N, melancholic. “And I’ll do whatever it takes, okay? I’ll be your candle, your shining light, anything that’ll get you through the darkness.”

“Thanks.” Y/N chuckles, looking down, noticing the sand still on Jaehyun’s shoes. “But that still doesn’t change what people would think about…” He points to Jaehyun, then at himself, repeatedly, “this.”

Jaehyun hums as he guides Y/N to the ledge of the rooftop, sitting both him and himself down as they stare out onto the deserted school field below. “Remember what you said about the sun, just a few hours ago when we were down at the beach?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I’d give it all up. All of it. My status, my family, my friends—all of it…” Jaehyun says, peeling his eyes off the dark field below them and locking them with Y/N’s, passion fueling his words, “if it meant I could be with you. Because as much as I love them, if it means seeing you in my arms, I’d give them all up every single day, every single time, every single chance I get.”

Y/N forces a sob in, trying his best not to break down. “But why?” He replies, feeling tears pool again.

“Because I’m serious with you, dude.” Jaehyun replies as Y/N chuckles, the tears still in his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to tell you all this for a while now.”

Y/N snickers louder, he and his best friend’s intimacy overwhelming him. He takes in Jaehyun’s form, the moon casting its light down on him, and makes a desicion. “Fine.”

“Fine what?”

“Fine, you can be my candle. Fine, you can be my shining light. Fine…” Y/N pauses, trying to find the right words, “Fine, I’ll give this—us—a chance.”

Jaehyun quickly switches moods from his dejected one to a grin from ear to ear, painting over his gloomy look. “Does that mean you’re still my valentine for tomorrow...” Jaehyun pauses, looks at his watch then looks back into Y/N’s eyes, noticing all the sorrow fading, “I mean later?”

“Yes, dude.”

“We have to stop calling each other that now, babe.”

“Ew. Too cheesy don’t you think?”

“Not at all. I think it suits you.”

Both men chuckle as they stare out into the landscape, a completely new bond between them formed.

“Since it’s Valentine’s Day already,” Jaehyun mumbles as he looks toward Y/N’s direction, “do you mind giving me a kiss?” Y/N stops his peaceful gaze on the stars as he locks eyes with Jaehyun, noticing the sparkles in his eyes. “No running away this time though.”

Y/N chuckles before he places his hand on Jaehyun’s cheek, moving closer and closer, feeling their taboo love get stronger and stronger. Their lips touch as he realizes that Jaehyun’s lips taste more like peaches than strawberries. With this thought in mind, he smiles into their kiss, the feeling of fear leaving his body as he feels his best friend’s—now boyfriend’s—lips on his.

Instead of the briny ocean water witnessing their love wither merely 6 hours earlier, it was now the magnificent moon and the stunning stars bearing witness to their young, requited love bloom.

Maybe it was the stigma. The thing that kept them apart for so long. Maybe it was the stigma—or maybe they were both just pussies.

Good thing they grew some balls.

“I think I get why you like the moon and stars so much.” Jaehyun blurts as the two lay on the beach once again, staring up at the glittered night sky, the valentine air floating out and about.

“And why’s that?” Y/N says as he looks up at Jaehyun, curiosity devouring him.

“It reminds me of a phrase in Latin.” He replies, smiling as the bijou stars twinkled at them, as if they were smiling. “It means light in darkness.” Y/N nods. “The moon, the stars—they paint the plain black sky and turn it into something stunning. I can’t look away from it now. Whenever I look up at night, I’ll always remember you.”

“Good for you.” Y/N chuckles, shifting his gaze from his boyfriend’s cheek and placing it back on the painting-like sky above them, miniature dots glistening on the canvas. “What’s that phrase again? If it sounds pretty, I just might get it tattooed on me.”

“Light in darkness,” Jaehyun stops, smiling back at the specs winking at them, “and in Latin,” Y/N looks up at Jaehyun, only to catch him staring back, stars in his eyes,

“Lux in tenebris.”

End.

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙: 02.04.21

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙: 02.13.21

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