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sluttywonwoo · 2 years ago

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no nut november — lee know (winner)

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex

a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi's and i’s collab <3

word count: 4.3k

series masterlist

“God, that feels so good,” you whine.

Minho’s head pops up from between your legs and he grins, chin shiny with your arousal. “You close?”

“I was until you stopped,” you grumble.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says with a pout.

You push his head lightly. “You’re not sorry.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

You roll your eyes. “Just because you can’t cum doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“I thought we were in this together,” Minho whines.

“You really want to deal with a girlfriend who hasn’t cum in a month?”

“Good point.”

With that, Minho gets back to work. He’s teasing you purposely, this time, dragging his tongue up and down your slit without staying in one place long enough to be effective.

“Minho.”

“Hm?”

“Please...”

“Please what?”

“Need more.”

“Use your words, baby- hey. Don’t squirm.”

He presses down on your hips to keep you still, basically wrestling you into place. You surrender to him but only because you know he’s stronger. Minho smacks your cunt twice, each time making you jolt slightly.

“Let’s try this again. Use your words to ask for what you want.”

“Can I- can I have something inside? Like your fingers or your tongue?”

“What about my cock?”

“What about it?”

“You don’t want my cock inside of you?”

“Of course I do, I always do. I just... didn’t think that was on the table.”

“Why not?”

“Are you really going to make me say it?” you groan.

“You don’t think I can control myself?” Minho accuses.

“No, actually, I don’t!”

He sits up, hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me.”

“You just get very... passionate when we have sex.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that once you start, you can’t stop.”

Minho narrows his eyes at you like you’re challenging him, even though that isn’t your intention at all. You don’t want him to lose on your account, but you can only resist your irresistible boyfriend offering you his dick on a silver platter for so long.

“I can’t believe you think that little of me!”

“It’s not that you can’t last, Min- we both know you can. You just like to... finish something once you’ve started.”

“Is that supposed to be a pun?”

You grin. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re such a loser.”

“That you’re in love with.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky that’s the case.”

“And here I was thinking you’re the lucky one.”

“Oh, I definitely am. Listening to your terrible jokes is a small price to pay for getting to be your person.”

You push his chest bashfully. “Don’t get all cheesy now.”

“Why not? Can’t take it?”

“No, actually. I can’t. If you keep pouring your heart out to me like that I’ll die on the spot and then you’ll go away for my murder. “

“Worst they could get me for is manslaughter,” Minho scoffs like he’s brushing off the possibility.

“So comforting to hear when you have me pinned underneath you.”

He smirks. “Did you want to get fucked or not? I do have to work later tonight.”

You sigh, shrugging. If he was so insistent about it, you weren’t going to fight it anymore. You were only trying to do him a favor in the first place. His funeral and all that.

“Give it to me.”

Minho’s smirk turns into a genuine grin and he rubs your thighs in excitement. “I know you wanted something inside but did you want me to make you cum before fucking you?” You shake your head no. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just put it in.”

“So romantic.”

Despite the sarcasm in his voice, Minho scoots up so that his face is just inches above yours and kisses you deeply, getting you to moan so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like you, unsurprisingly, and like the strawberry jam you put on your toast in the mornings.

“Spread your legs a bit more for me, baby,” he whispers. You do, and he praises you for it. “There you go.”

One of his hands comes down in between your legs to rub your clit as he eases himself inside of you. The fit is perfect, like always, but the stretch is obviously a little more intense than usual.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute.”

While he waits, he just lies on top of you, ignoring your complaints when you tell him you can’t breathe. Then, you tap him on the back twice to let him know he can move so he does.

Minho isn’t one to jump right into fucking the life out of you, preferring to start slow and build gradually build the pace, and today is no different. He’s even slower than he normally is, being extra considerate of your disposition.

“You can go faster,” you urge him. “I promise I won’t break.”

You see him hesitate, almost like he wants to ask you if you’re sure, but he doesn’t. It’s something he’s been working on, trusting you to be honest about what you want in the bedroom, much like you’ve been working on telling him what you want in the bedroom. “Wrap your legs around my waist, baby.”

You moan as soon as you lock your ankles behind his back, the angle already pushing him deeper inside of you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp.

“Atta girl. So good for me when you wanna be, huh?”

You nod, whimpering.

He keeps his fingers on your clit as he fucks you, wanting to get you to the edge as fast as possible. You assume he’ll draw back, slow down and edge you just like he had when he was eating you out a few minutes ago, but he doesn’t.

“Fuck, I’m going to- I’m cumming!”

You sob as it hits you, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and pulling him close. He makes a sound of surprise as he falls forward into you but easily accepts his fate and begins to kiss and nip at your neck.

Minho’s still fucking you even after you come down, even though your legs are trembling and tears are staining your cheeks. He seems entirely unaffected by the way your pussy’s clenching relentlessly around him. Meanwhile, you’re falling apart every time the head of his cock nudges your g-spot. Curse his dancer’s hips and performer’s stamina.

“Think you can give me another one?” he asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice and it’s infuriating.

You don’t get the chance to respond before you’re cumming again, whining his name and biting your fist so hard you think you’ve drawn blood. It isn’t unlike Minho to fuck you into a second orgasm right after the first, he loves overstimulating you almost as much as he loves edging you, but it always catches you off guard.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts.

“Yeah, I just c-came twice.”

“You’re always tight,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

You snort and roll your eyes while Minho kisses your nose.

“One more?” he asks, rolling his hips experimentally.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan. “Yes, please. Please make me cum again.”

Minho tries to gently coax the third orgasm out of you, taking his time instead of fucking your brains out like he just had been. You can tell he’s getting close too. He’s trying not to show it but he has a tell that’s a dead giveaway every time.

“So good for me, letting me do whatever I want to you,” he pants. “So fucking warm and tight and perfect. God, you can never get enough of this cock, can you? Just have to have it all the time.”

“Yes, always!” you agree even though you aren’t entirely sure he’s expecting an answer.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

You cum unexpectedly, shocking both yourself and your boyfriend. It’s all Minho’s fault, really. He can’t say shit like that and expect you not to gush everywhere.

He tries to make the most of it by thrusting deep as he fucks you through the orgasm. You clutch him to you, digging your nails into his back as your thighs tighten around his waist.

The cries of his name and the pulsing of your cunt drive Minho right to the edge and he’s suddenly frantic, whimpering and grunting in your ear as he desperately begs you to say the things he needs to hear.

“Tell me you love me,” he whines. “Please, baby tell me you’re mine.”

“I love you! I love you, baby. I’m yours, I’m yours. ”

It hits him hard- body going tense, eyebrows knitting together, mouth falling open as he cums inside of you. He looks so pretty like that, it’s a view you’ll never get tired of. It’s almost enough to make you cum again. You can feel it, feel his cock throbbing as he fills you up. You hadn’t used condoms with Minho for a long time now, didn’t need to when you were taking twice the typical dose of birth control for your awful periods. And you had been dating for long enough that you could trust each other with something as intimate as this.

Minho gives you and himself a moment to recover before he’s pulling out and rolling off of you. He feels around for one of the washcloths you always kept on the nightstand and finds one, cleaning himself and your thighs off.

“I’ll wet go wet another one with warm water for the actual mess,” he assures you. “Don’t want to use a dry washcloth on that. Your PH balance is already fucked up enough after what we just did.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Can you not say stuff like that until at least twenty minutes after we fuck?”

“You don’t think it’s sexy that your boyfriend cares and is knowledgeable about vaginal health?”

“I do, but I don’t think I would classify the subject as bedroom talk.”

“Agree to disagree.”

It isn’t until you’ve both showered and are laying in bed together that you bring the bet back up. Minho still has about an hour before he needs to be at the JYPE building and he’s trying to spend as much of that time with you as humanly possible.

“Min, the bet,” you sigh.

“What about it?”

“You lost. You guys shook on it like... a few hours ago.”

Minho shrugs. “Oh well.”

You sit up, detaching yourself from him to give him a look.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re the most competitive person I know..”

He grins. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t necessarily a compliment, but you’re welcome, I guess. I just mean you’re not even a little upset about being the first out?”

Another shrug. “Meh. You win some, you lose some.”

“Have you told them yet? What did they say?”

“I’m just gonna let them figure it out on their own,” he says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend as it dawns on you. “You were never going to play, were you?”

Minho smirks. “Oh, I’m playing. I’m just playing a different game.”

“I’m not lying to our friends!”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not telling them.”

“It’s called a lie of omission for a reason, Minho. Because it’s a lie. And what if they straight up ask me about it? What am I supposed to say then?”

“Just change the subject.” “Yeah, because that’ll work fine and not be suspicious at all.”

“Babe, please,” he pleads.

“It seems mean!”

“It is mean,” he agrees. “But it’s funny.”

“What if they all hate you after this?”

“They contractually can’t hate me. They still have to be in a group with me for the next two years and if we renew then even longer. Besides, this is me getting back at them for volunteering me to MC for Music Core. I was sick the day the representative came around to the company and they all recommended me knowing I wouldn’t want to do it because they thought it would be funny. Next thing I know, I’m in the audition room and they’re telling me I have to wear stupid hats and do aegyo every Saturday-”

“I thought you liked the hats.”

“They’re okay sometimes,” he huffs, refusing to admit what you both know to be true. “But it’s the principle of the thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Mr. Drama King. What do I get in return for participating in your little revenge plot?”

“What do you want?”

“The rest of the SKZOOs.”

Minho purses his lips, holding back a scoff. The only SKZOO you owned was Leebit, obviously. You actually had a couple of Leebits around your apartment but Minho had jokingly banned you from getting any of the others because, in his words, he was supposed to be your favorite member.

“Having the others doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite,” you’d argued. “Do you want Leebit to be lonely?”

“Leebit doesn’t need friends,” Minho had insisted. “He’s happier by himself.”

You weren’t convinced but you also didn’t feel like arguing with your very stubborn boyfriend on the subject. You were content with Leebit for the time being- until now, that was.

“That’s really what you want?” Minho asks.

“Mhm.”

He sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Fine. Deal.”

You grin triumphantly and kiss him on the cheek. “Pleasure doing business.”

“You’re a menace.”

“And that’s why you love me. We’re made for each other.”

Your plan was to simply avoid the members and their partners for the entire month. If you didn’t run into them, you wouldn’t have to lie to them. Easy peasy. Right?

“Jisung did what?” you gasp, standing dumbfounded in the middle of your bedroom as your boyfriend gets dressed.

“Planned a surprise birthday party for me,” Minho repeats.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s my best friend?”

“But... your birthday was last month. And how is it a surprise party if you already know about it?”

“You know he’s not good at keeping secrets. Or planning ahead.”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips as you watch Minho button his nice dress shirt.

“Do I have to go?”

He pauses to look up at you. “What do you mean do you have to go? You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that,” you explain, “I’m just worried about someone bringing up your stupid bet and having to lie to them.”

“I’ll do most of the talking,” he assures you. “Just stick by my side.”

Thankfully, the party Jisung had planned was on the smaller side. Only Minho’s closest friends were in attendance which meant that you knew almost everyone there. Han had admittedly outdone himself with the setup, too. You couldn’t even recognize the JYPE ballroom with all of the decorations and lights strung up everywhere. You told him as much when you saw him.

“If only the guy was actually surprised,” he grumbled to himself, “but thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

The ‘sticking by Minho’s side’ method only worked when he was actually by your side. Midway through the party, he excuses himself to go talk to one of his friends, leaving you to fend for yourself until he returns.

“Oh my god, I feel like it’s been forever!” a familiar voice echoes from behind you.

You turn to see Hyunjin’s girlfriend holding her arms out to you for a hug, and quickly reciprocate, briefly wrapping your arms around her in greeting.

“It’s been too long,” you agree.

“Where have you been?” she asks. “The other girls have been asking for you.”

“Oh, you know,” you mumble, “work has really picked up lately so I’ve just been swamped.”

It’s not technically a lie, you have been swamped, but you’ve also been actively avoiding your friends at the same time.

“Ugh, that sucks. It must be so stressful,” she sympathizes, then lowers her voice. “How have you been doing with... you know?”

Fuck.

You take a deep breath and swallow the guilt that threatens to claw its way up your throat as you scramble to come up with a bullshit answer. “About as well as any of us, I figure.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” she groans. “I nearly killed Hyunjin when he told me about it. I still might.”

You laugh. “If he goes missing, I won’t say anything.”

Suddenly, Minho’s back by your side, his hand resting on the small of your back. He greets Hyunjin’s girlfriend warmly. She wishes Minho a happy birthday and then excuses herself to go find her own boyfriend.

“What were you two talking about?”

“Who’s asking?” you ask in response.

“The birthday boy.”

“He has no authority here, sorry.”

Minho’s jaw drops in faux shock. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

“She just asked me how I was holding up through all of this No Nut November bullshit,” you admit.

“Wait, she actually asked you about it?”

“Yes, she actually asked me about it. Girls talk about this stuff.”

He winces and rocks back on his heels. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t fucking leave me again. What was so important you had to ditch me for in the first place?”

“I went to go say hey to that girl Jeongin likes,” Minho explains, nodding in her direction.

You look over to where she was now sitting with Jeongin and nod in understanding. “That’s her?”

She was one of the guests you didn’t know super well. You had only seen her at a few group functions and she mostly kept to Jeongin and some of the other younger members.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I just thought she might be interested to know that her crush on Innie is mutual.”

“What?”

“She likes Jeongin back.”

“No, I know she does.” One of the other girls had told you about Jeongin’s little crush and how the two were practically shooting heart eyes at the other all the time but were completely oblivious. You just hadn’t been able to put a face to the name until now. “How do you know that?”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Minho mutters defensively.

“But why would you try to meddle in their business? Shouldn’t you let them figure it out for themselves?”

“If I didn’t interfere they’d never act on their feelings,” he argues.

“And why did you decide to ‘interfere’ now of all times?” you push.

Minho smirks, knowing you’re on to him. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. “Why are you trying to make him lose? You’re already out so why does it matter?”

“I’m just trying to keep it interesting!”

“You’re being an asshole, is what you’re doing!”

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“What do you say we get out of here?” he suggests, completely ignoring what you’d just said.

“You can’t leave your own birthday party early!”

“Says who?”

“It would be rude, Minho.”

“Fine, then let’s find a closet or something.”

“You really want to fuck like twenty feet away from everyone you’re up against for No Nut November?”

He shrugs. “Who doesn’t like a little challenge?”

Jeongin loses next, then Hyunjin. Changbin follows not long after, then Chan, then Felix. All the while, you continue to have sex with Minho. He comes over a lot more often, fucking you in every room of your apartment and then falling asleep in your bed just to go again in the morning.

You can’t risk being at the dorms because neither of you are very good at keeping your hands off of each other, but you don’t want to raise suspicion by not being around so you drop by a couple of times throughout the month under the guise of bringing Minho dinner or picking him up for date night.

When the boys ask about you, Minho gives them the same excuse you’d told Hyunjin’s girlfriend about work. They don’t pry, thankfully, probably too intimidated by your boyfriend to invoke your name more than once every three to five business days. Minho could be a little possessive at times, even around the friends he’d known longer than he had known you, and that was working in your favor this month.

The other six having lost meant that Seungmin was the only one left standing. Technically, he had already won. But he doesn’t know that. Only you and Minho know that.

You expect Minho to tell him the good news as soon as Felix announces his failure, but he doesn’t.

“November isn’t over yet,” he points out.

“You’re just going to let Minnie suffer?”

“He’ll be fine.”

“He’s going to kill you.”

“Probably.”

Minho feels a little bad about having you lie on his behalf, but not bad enough to stop you from doing it. You’re just as much of a little jerk as he is, which is why he knew you’d agree in the first place. Sure, your moral compass is a bit more aligned than his, but that’s what makes you such a great pair. You’re there to reign him in when he goes too far, and he’s there to push your boundaries.

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” he asks when you come back from a girls brunch all giddy and breathless.

You hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place to save yourself from lying to them all morning but Seungmin’s girlfriend had begged you to, seeing as you were the only two whose boyfriend’s hadn’t caved and therefore weren’t getting laid like the other girls were.

You didn’t want to leave her hanging like that, so you went. And now, you’re practically glowing with adrenaline as you recount the last two hours to Minho.

“I said that you won’t even touch me,” you exclaim, making Minho’s smile falter. “And that you’ve resorted to sleeping on the couch when you stay over so you don’t accidentally get too close to me in your sleep.”

He scoffs. “Did you have to make me sound like a total fucking loser?”

“Would you rather I have told the truth?”

“Okay, okay, you’re right. Thank you for doing that.”

You take a seat on Minho’s lap and hum happily. “You’re welcome.”

When the clock strikes midnight on December first, Minho’s surprised by the radio silence from Seungmin’s end.

“Do you think he’s asleep?” he asks you.

“Maybe he’s fucking his girlfriend into oblivion,” you suggest with a shrug. “I hope he is for her sake. Poor girl was desperate for dick.”

Minho isn’t really sure how to respond to that so he doesn’t. He just hums in acknowledgment and turns the lamp by your bedside off so that your room is doused in darkness. You pat his thigh comfortingly under the blankets.

“We’ll find out tomorrow, babe.”

“I guess we will.”

Seungmin doesn’t text the groupchat until the afternoon, hours after Chan’s texted asking who won. Minho shows you the texts and you read over his shoulder as the messages roll in.

Kim Seungmin SKZ: lost an hour or two before midnight. congrats minho.

Lee Felix SKZ: minho won??? Why am i not surprised at all lol

Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: I think we all saw this coming.

Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: pun intended.

Bang Chan SKZ: so where are you going to take your gf?

Minho: actually, you all should congratulate Seungmin.

Bang Chan SKZ: what?

Hannie: what? did you lose yesterday afternoon or something?

Seo Changbin SKZ: ???

Minho: I was the first to lose.

The groupchat is silent for a single beat before it starts blowing up with messages from all of the members furiously cursing Minho out. He laughs as he scrolls through them.

Bang Chan SKZ: all in favor of voting lee know out of the group?

Kim Seungmin SKZ: i think it’s unanimous.

Minho: Relax, Minnie. You won. You’re getting the trip.

Kim Seungmin SKZ: RELAX? YOU’RE GOING TO TELL ME TO FUCKING RELAX??? I COULD HAVE BEEN FUCKING MY GIRLFRIEND THREE DAYS AGO AFTER FELIX LOST BUT NOOO YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FUNNY MAKING THE REST OF US LOOK LIKE IDIOTS

Yang Jeongin SKZ: i mean it is kind of funny

Hannie: you’re not mad innie?

Yang Jeongin SKZ: i was out second... or i guess technically third so i was never going to win anyway. minho got me a girlfriend out of this so i can’t really complain too much

Minho: Listen, I’m happy to be the sole contributor to Minnie’s vacation since I was the one to orchestrate all this. The rest of you can donate to that nonprofit we talked about at the beginning of the month. I’ll make a donation too obviously but don’t worry about the trip.

Kim Seungmin SKZ: I don’t want your pity money

Minho: it’s not pity money, it’s sorry for being an asshole money

Seo Changbin SKZ: if he doesn’t want it, i’ll take it

Kim Seungmin: don’t you fucking dare

Minho: anyway, if you guys are done bitching I’m going to go spend some time with my girlfriend now. I hope you’ve all learned your lesson.

Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: our lesson???

Lee Felix SKZ: wym?

Bang Chan SKZ: oh don’t tell us you’re still mad about that

Minho: not anymore. we’re even now.

Minho puts his phone down on the counter as soon as it starts to ring with a call from Seungmin. He swipes the decline icon and turns his attention to you.

“Was it worth it?” you ask.

He opens his mouth to answer but his phone rings again, cutting him off. It’s a call from Chan this time. He declines it and turns the phone off completely so that no one else can bother the two of you.

He leans forward and kisses you hard, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as his hands settle on your ass.

“Was it worth it?” he repeats, smirking. “I’d do it again in a fucking heartbeat.”

sorry again for the wait- as you all know i've been going through a lot lol

nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady---boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter @skizzel @sillyrabbit76 @sahazzy @kpfly @zerefdragn331 @wonuziex @sirleeknow @ashcapybara

#no nut november stray kids #no nut november skz #nnn skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lino smut #lee minho smut #minho smut #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids x female reader #skz x reader #skz x female reader #lee know fic #lee know fanfic #lee know fanfiction #stray kids fic #stray kids series

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clementine-thedestroyer · 1 year ago

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Miguel O’Hara x reader - Sew cute

Warnings/tags: Miguel getting lowkey horny over his girlfriend knowing how to sew. Also, mentions of marriage.

Part two

I have this head cannon of rich bf Miguel finding his girlfriend’s hobbies adorable and taking every possible opportunity to fule her passion- I might make this a loosely related series, where it’d be the same concept but different hobbies.

I’m so sorry for the pun as the title.

It all started when a line of stitching on your pants began to loosen. The top stitching under the fly, specifically.

You complained offhandedly about it to Miguel, leaning against his side and pouting slightly as you whined about your favorite pair of pants starting to give out. Miguel chuckled softly at your dramatics, scrolling through his phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulder sympathetically with his other, eventually pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising to buy you a new pair next time you two went shopping.

Except, he never gets a chance. Because the next night, he comes home to the sight of you hunched over on the couch, your tongue bitten in concentration as a movie you’re not paying attention too plays on the TV, your head turned to something in your lap instead.

Miguel can’t help his curiosity- coming up behind you and peaking over your shoulder.

Looking down, he sees what you’re focused so intensely on, and it catches him off guard.

You held a thread and needle in one hand and what he assumed to be your pants in the other, carefully sewing a line of stitching into the fabric. Except, you weren’t working on your pants- your pants were sitting to the side of you- the stitching already repaired. Now, you had one of Miguel’s shirts- one he recognized as one he had planned on getting rid of because of a seam coming undone.

“¿Qué haces?” Miguel asks, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing loving circles into the tense muscles as watched you work.

You can’t help but shudder as Miguel’s fingers dig into your back, easing the pain from sitting hunched over for so long. You try to keep the shakiness out of your voice as you look up at him to answer his question.

“I’m fixing my pants. The ones that were coming apart- I told you about that yesterday, remember?”

“Love, that’s my shirt. Not your pants.”

“O-oh yeah.” You felt yourself flush in embarrassment, looking back down at the shirt you had stolen from Miguel. “Well- yeah- I finished the pants earlier. Then I found this shirt in with the rest of the clothes while I was putting away laundry. I-I hope you don’t mind that I’m fixing it-”

Miguel smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as he continued rubbing your shoulders. “Of course I don’t mind. But, I’m more than happy to buy us both new clothes. You don’t need to worry about pinching pennies.”

You turn to him, a grin spread across your still warm cheeks as you respond. “Miguel, there’s no reason to replace something so easy to repair! Plus, I’m enjoying myself!”

Miguel nodded, looking down to admire the stitching you had done on the shirt so far. “Hm… I didn’t know you could sew, mi amor.”

“It’s not exactly hard, just moving the needle through the fabric, you know? I haven’t done it in a good while, I forgot how much I liked doing this kinda stuff.”

Miguel was enamored by this new revelation. Before this, he had always seen sewing as more of an old person thing, but he couldn’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling of domesticity he got from watching you lay in his lap as you delicately maneuvered the needle and thread through the torn fabric of his shirt. He couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride at the sight, it was like you were his little house wife.

Or…house girlfriend? Because he hasn’t married you yet…. But that’s really just a technicality. You’re his house wife, Miguel has decided it.

The next morning, when you handed him the repaired shirt with a proud grin, Miguel couldn’t help but feel treasured and loved from the simple gesture. Before this, Miguel would never have considered wearing something that had ripped them been repaired. He had the money to replace things, so why wouldn’t he? But from that day on, that shirt became his favorite, and he wore it every chance he had.

After that, Miguel started coming home with little handicraft and embroidery kits for you. Whenever he’d get see a kit he knew you’d like- maybe it had your favorite animal or something- he’d toss it in the cart and save it for a rainy day, whether that be a metaphorical or literal one.

And it all stayed like that for a while: Miguel bringing you small hand sewing and embroidery kits, you lighting up and getting started on them right away- usually spending the rest of the night on the couch next to Miguel with a movie or show on in the background.

Until one of your friends asked that you sign up for a sewing workshop with them. It was a relatively basic class, held at one of the local chain fabric/craft stores, but you had agreed to go, mostly for your friends sake.

The workshop was fun. You learned a bit about sewing machine tension and using patterns, and the sewing project given was simple and doable within the time period.

You didn’t realize that Miguel had come early, or that he was standing in the doorway of the classroom, watching you sew with a smile. He would deny it if you asked him, but he had arrived early on purpose to watch the last few minutes of the class. He had assumed the class was hand sewing, like everything else he had seen you do up till that point, and he was surprised to see you hunched over a sewing machine instead of your usual needle and thread.

It was like the first time he saw you sewing all over again: he was fucking smitten, and was going to make you his wife. That was all he could think about, because god help him, you already looked and acted the part.

Miguel was mesmerized by how focused you were as you moved the fabric through the machine. The way you bit your lip and furrowed your brow in concentration- it was precious, and Miguel wanted nothing more than to melt at how domestic you seemed while doing it.

And when you finished and came up to him? With a wide grin as you proudly presented the stuffed animal you had made during the workshop, insisting that you made it for him? His heart melted, right then and there. He squeezed that stuffed animal so tight and looked down at you with so much love, you were half worried he’d either pounce on you or make the poor stuffed animal’s head pop off (which Miguel might have cried about, at this point).

After the workshop, Miguel didn’t take you home. You and him stayed at the fabric store, him loading your arms up with fabric, patterns, and whatever else he decided you needed. “You like this one? No? You don’t? Well I think it’s just a good basic- like a black shirt, so we should just get it anyways.”

Oh god. And then he found the baby clothes patterns. You could’ve sworn you spent hours at that craft store.

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arjwrites · 5 months ago

Note

— Guess who's back with another request.....‼️‼️‼️

A fluff Castiel x Winchester!Reader where she helps Cas with his wings after a hunt please 😘😻 (I imagine them being dark, HUGE and MEGA soft and she goes like "Woah" (completely distracted for a moment))

Saving Grace- Castiel x GN!Reader

Summary: Cas is hurt after a hunt, and when he's hurting, you're hurting. Sometimes even an angel needs a helping hand. PART TWO HERE! Warnings: None! A/N: WELCOME BACK ANON! Sorry this took me a couple of days- for some reason I was really struggling to get Cas's character right here. I really wanted to do him justice for my loyal requester!!! A bit of context for this one- Cas is able to reveal a physical form of his wings if he chooses. All of the logistics of angel wings are pretty much made up. Good thing I view canon as more of a… rough suggestion! It’s right there in my bio, people. Have a little bit of suspension of belief for a few of the details!!!! Also- this doesn't quite make it to outright romantic territory- it felt to me like a buildup to something bigger in the future! Maybe I'll write a part 2 at some point, who knows... It had been a few hours since you had finished up the day’s hunt. Upon your return to the motel, Sam had instantly run out the door to the local library in search of a better wifi connection to research for the next case, while Dean had followed him into town to grab some supplies. This left you and Castiel, perched in your usual positions on opposite sides of the bed in your separate room. It was common for you and the angel to spend some quiet time together after a hunt- you both often found an unspoken comfort in each other’s simple presence. While you were leaned back, propped up with pillows and dialed into whatever was on TV, Cas held his usual stiff posture, but something seemed off about him. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, and every so often, he would shift in his seat and his whole body would tighten and cringe. You knew he had taken a few pretty serious blows during this hunt, but the fact that he let himself continue to hurt, rather than quickly healing himself, was concerning to you. Usually, this time spent together was silent, enjoying a moment of peace while you each lost yourself in your own thoughts. But after a few episodes and many stolen, worried glances, you felt you had to speak up.

“Cas, what’s wrong? It’s obvious you’re still hurting. Why haven’t you healed yourself?”

“I’m fine. I just need to figure a few things out.” He continued to avoid your gaze, rising from the bed and pacing across the room to distance himself from you.

“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.” Your level of concern forced you to cut right to the chase.

Cas pondered this for a second. Could you really help him? Was it even okay for him to ask? Humans certainly hadn’t taken very well to an angel’s true form in the past… But that was a couple thousand years ago, and those humans hadn’t known what you know. If anyone could handle this, it was you. If he could trust anyone, it was you. And it was only his wings- just a sliver of his full form. But still, Cas was hesitant. This was unfamiliar territory for him.

You watched from across the room as the wheels turned in his mind. His expression was pained, and it seemed like he was wrestling with a hard decision. As much as you wanted to close the gap between you, to comfort him, you knew the best thing to do was to give him his space. You were glad you did, because after a moment, his gaze rose from the floor, settled on you, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“There’s something wrong with my wings. It’s blocking my grace and I can’t heal myself.” His expression was solemn and his tone direct. Clearly, he wasn’t happy to have to bring this up with you.

“Your wings?” The mention of the most angelic part of your dear angel sent your heart aflutter (no pun intended). For the most part, Cas’s wings were out of sight, out of mind. Usually he was just the dorky man in a trench coat who just so happened to have some pretty crazy powers. But when you thought about his wings, the parts of him that were so divine and otherworldly, your cheeks burned scarlet. It was a reminder of just how different Cas was from you.

“Yes. I might need you to… Inspect them. Figure out what is wrong and remove whatever is blocking my grace. I can’t heal myself, Sam, Dean, or you until it’s gone.”

You sucked in a sharp, full breath, your lungs holding tightly to the air for just a moment before slowly pushing it back out of you.

“Okay. I can do that.” Why were you nervous? It was just Cas. You were just helping out a… friend.

“It’s very… personal. This vessel you see isn’t really me, but my wings? That is as close as you can get to seeing my true form. I’m… not sure how you would react. It’s not something meant for human eyes. Not here on Earth, anyways. It might upset you or-”

“If it means helping you, I’m sure I can handle it.”

“Are you sure-”

“Cas. Are you in pain?”

He hesitated for a moment before conceding the truth. “Yes.”

“Then let me help.”

Castiel sighed, his body tightening in a way that seemed like he was bracing himself. A terse “Alright” escaped his lips, and then the whole room shifted.

There was no earthly way to describe the sight that unfurled before you. Castiel’s wings were dark, so dark they held no color or shine or reflection- just a void, deep, black nothingness. And yet, they almost glowed. There was some sort of aura that radiated off of them, just as dark as the wings themselves yet tinged ever so slightly blue. It must have been his grace. The aura wrapped around the perimeter of each wing and hugged each individual feather, defining them just enough so you could barely distinguish one from another. Somehow, his wings were dark and light and everything in between- you had never seen anything like it. Cas was right- it was hard to wrap your head around it. You reached down to grasp the surface you were sitting on, half to ground yourself in the moment to believe what you were seeing, and half to make sure you didn’t jump right up to inspect his wings closer. You knew this was hard for poor Castiel- your greatest fear was making him uncomfortable.

“Wow, Cas,” was all you could say. You were completely entranced, absolutely at a loss. It took everything in you not to burst into tears- he was definitely right. This was not a sight for just any human to see. He started to shift underneath your gaze, each movement triggering his wings to follow in a parallel movement. He looked uncomfortable. Gathering your composure, you rose to your feet. It was just Cas, the same Cas you’ve known all along. As nervous as his wings made you feel, you knew he was just as nervous, so you pushed yourself to help him feel at ease.

“Okay. How do you want me to do this?”

“You can touch them. See if you notice anything that doesn’t look like it should be there.”

Touch them. Just the thought sent another jolt of electricity through your body. Touching Cas’s wings? He was asking you to touch his wings. There was no stopping the thoughts racing into your mind- How would they feel? How would it make Cas feel? How would it make you feel?

Pushing the worries aside, you crossed over to Cas. Mid-step, your gaze grabbed on to the angel’s and wouldn’t let go. As you inched closer, you were less and less inclined to look away. Because once you did, you knew you would be face to face in the task at hand.

It’s not that you didn’t want to look at Cas’s wings. They were the most beautiful, ethereal things you had ever seen. They just made you so nervous. For the first time since knowing Cas, it truly registered to you- he was an angel, a heavenly creature, so powerful and beautiful that even this small glimpse of his true form had you weak in the knees. But beyond being just an angel, he was a teammate, a friend, and to you, something far more. All you wanted to do was take his pain away.

Finally, your eyes were forced to stray from the angel’s as your feet led you behind him, ducking under his left wing and settling yourself square between them. There was a physical sensation radiating off of them- a warm, low buzz that made your whole body tingle.

“One more thing.” Cas’s voice stepped in to break what felt like an age-long silence.

“Yes?” You whispered.

“It will be a bit… sensitive. Please be gentle.”

“Of course, Cas.”

And so you were. With the softest touch you could muster up, you reached out and made contact with his right wing, settling your fingers amongst the feathers. You felt Cas’s body shudder underneath your touch, but his low voice mumbled that all was well, to carry on. So you did.

For nearly thirty minutes, your fingers worked through the wings. Touching them was like weaving your hands through silk, sifting through layer upon layer. The feathers were so light and delicate that they almost felt like nothing at all, and the way they kissed your skin was without a doubt the most beautiful sensation you had ever experienced.

Your hands zoned into their task, sifting through the wings to remove all of the debris leftover from the day’s hunt. Cas spoke to you as you worked, teaching you about their anatomy, their capabilities, and everything else. You listened intently, fascinated by this intimate insight, but you weren’t sure if he was speaking with the pure intention of teaching you or simply to distract himself from the feeling of what was going on behind him. Every so often, his voice wavered or his back pulled away, and in response, you would stall your hands, giving him a moment to adjust.

The process was long and tedious, but you took the liberty of enjoying every second of it. Watching the ripple of the feathers beneath your fingers, the way your hands seemed to disappear as they bobbed in and out, eventually you dropped the last piece of shrapnel into the empty box you had been using to collect it all.

“There. All done. Is that… any better?”

Cas didn’t vocalize a response, but your question was answered when his entire form shone with the familiar blue glow of his grace. And when the glow subsided, his wings were tucked away yet again, leaving behind his unadorned trenchcoated vessel. He turned to you with a face of gentle features.

“Thank you,” was all he could express in his low timbre. It seemed as though every trace of worry had melted away, and everything about Cas’s presence had softened. But if you hadn’t been completely sure of his newfound comfort and ease, the angel confirmed it when he took a long stride closer, halving the distance that had served as the buffer between you.

“Thank you for trusting me to do that,” you breathed through a slight daze, both lingering from the experience and sparked anew from his rapidly increasing proximity.

“There is no one else I trust as much as you.” Now he was merely inches away, hovering closer to you than he ever had been before. Here you froze, both sinking into the feeling, until the magnetism that emanated off of him grew to be too much. Just as you took the leap of faith to close the gap, you were interrupted by the crash of the front door flying open. You jerked backwards on instinct, reinstating the safe buffer space.

In strode Sam and Dean, oblivious as ever. Stopped just inside the doorframe, and in complete unison, the brothers tilted their heads in confusion.

Gesturing between the two of you, Dean spoke. “Hey. We interrupting something?”

#requests <3 #castiel x reader #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #supernatural reader insert #castiel #castiel reader insert

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kueble · 11 months ago

Text

I Just Need You By My Side, Cause I'm Warmer in the Winter With You

Another very self-indulgent Christmas fic.

Teen. Warnings: Mentions of torture. 5,600 words.

Ghost/Soap

---

“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Ghost asks him from where he leans against his doorway. Soap shrugs and sets down the pencil in his hand. He’s been sketching for about an hour now, trying to wind down at the end of a hectic day. Everyone on base is giddy at the thought of going home for the holidays, and the energy is almost overwhelming..

“Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to my ugly mug around here. I know you’re one of the only ones here most Christmases, but I don’t have anywhere else to be this year,” he explains, hoping years of interrogation techniques pay off and Ghost doesn’t call him on the lie. Though it’s partially true, since there’s nowhere he’d rather be then in the barracks with him.

“Don’t you usually have a big family celebration? Remember you rambling about nieces and nephews and being forced into midnight mass by your mother,” Ghost asks, eyes narrowing behind the black balaclava he’s chosen to wear today.

“Glad to know you actually listen to me when I shoot my mouth off,” he laughs out.

“Never miss a word, Johnny,” Ghost tells him evenly.

“So any other year, yeah I'd be home, but things are out of sorts this year with my sisters traveling to their husband’s families, and me Ma and Pa planned a little trip of their own,” he says. Sure, the little trip was right down the road to his brother’s house where everyone would be gathered like every other year, but no need for Ghost to know that.

Last year it was excruciating to leave Ghost on the tarmac, saying goodbyes as everyone else went home to their families. He doesn’t know much, but it’s clear Ghost no longer has anyone waiting for him back at home. They’d all joked about him haunting the base, probably maskless with the skeleton crew left behind and any other puns they could come up with. Still, there was a bleakness in Ghost’s eyes that he never wanted to see again.

Thankfully he’s never been able to hide his feelings from his parents, especially his mother, and she didn’t even bat an eye when he told her his plans. She’d said something cheesy about the magic of the season bringing them closer together, which he’d quickly scoffed off. He wasn’t doing this with any ulterior motives in place. It was a simple fact that his best friend shouldn’t be alone over the long holiday break they were lucky enough to get two years in a row.

If he happens to be completely ass over tits in love with him, he’s smart enough to keep it to himself.

“Guess it could be nice to have some company, even yours,” Ghost teases with a snort. Soap rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking still.

“Do you cook anything for it or rely on the mess hall for Christmas dinner?” he asks, already planning how to make things nicer for him. They may be stuck on a mostly empty base, but there’s no reason why he can’t make it as comfortable as possible.

“Sometimes I make a pot of soup for the week, but nothing special for the day itself. Tend to keep to myself,” he says softly. And that just won’t do.

“Happy to help sample anything you cook, but since I burn water, I’ll order us something nice from town. It shouldn’t be too late for a small catering order. You like lasagna?” he asks, already thinking of the perfect little Italian place near here.

“Wouldn’t say no to it, but there’s no need to get fancy over me,” Ghost mumbles. It only makes Soap more determined to bring a little Christmas magic into his life this year.

“I’ll take care of dinner and you just bring the good company,” he says to settle it. He’ll place an order first thing in the morning, already planning to buy way more food than they need. Ghost deserves to be spoiled, and leftovers are a rare commodity around here.

“Not sure I’ll contribute much in that regard, but yeah, I can show up,” he agrees.

“No one else I’d rather spend the day with. Honestly,” Soap admits, but Ghost just huffs at him.

“Piss off, Johnny,” he says with a laugh. Before he can figure out a response, the man is already gone. It may just be the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he’s damned sure going to make sure Ghost knows how much Soap likes being around him, especially now. Likes, not loves, because he has a feeling that’s something he’ll take to his grave. Being around him will just have to do for now.

—

The poster fell off the wall for the three thousandth time, and Soap barely managed to keep himself in check. Price would have his head if he blew up the base, but it’s getting more and more likely. It’s a stupid thing, really, just a fake Christmas tree by a fireplace, but he bought it to cheer up their rec room. He grumbles under his breath, reciting every swear he knows and probably inventing some new ones along the way.

“Problems, Sergeant?” Ghost asks from his spot on the couch. There’s a hint of laughter on the edges of his voice, and Soap spins around to glare at him.

“There is in fact,” he spits out before taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. No use in pissing off the man he’s trying to decorate for. “These walls are apparently covered in fifty some years of filth, and I can’t get the damn tape to stick. Seriously, it’s like teflon and I’m actually afraid to think about what could be coating this wall right now.”

“This that important to you?” Ghost asks, head tilted like he’s studying him.

“Aye,” Soap sighs out. “Just wanted to brighten up the room a bit. We can’t have a real tree, and I’ve been banned from open flames on base, but I thought this stupid fucking poster might work. Wanna sneak off base and burn it with me? Might raise my spirits.”

“How about I fix it instead,” Ghost says, standing up to stomp over to the wall.

“You’re more than welcome to try, but not even sure duct tape will hold the damn thing at this point,” he says, scowling at the wall. Seriously, he was going to beg Price to get the room deep cleaned as soon as he was back on base. Can’t be safe.

Ghost shrugs before bumping him out of the way with his hip. He holds the poster with one hand and reaches into the back of his jeans with the other. The knife he pulls out is on the small side, but it does the job when he stabs it through the poster and into the wall. Nodding proudly, he slides another knife out of his sleeve and buries it in the other top corner. The final blade is tucked in his boot, and he takes a few steps back before flinging it at the wall.

It lands perfectly in the bottom center of the poster, and Soap chubs up in his sweats at the display of skill.

“Guess that works, too,” he murmurs, actively avoiding Ghost’s gaze. No need to show off how fucking gone on him he is, and he knows there’s hearts in his eyes right now. He’s bound to be suspicious just based on how desperate Soap is to make things perfect, to give him a better Christmas than year past, and he should try better to keep his feelings hidden. Not looking to get his heart broken over the holidays.

“Anything for you, Johnny,” Ghost tells him as he strides back to the couch and picks up his book again. Soap can feel his cheeks heating up and blurts out some half-assed excuse before making a tactful retreat.

—

He debates waiting until morning, but Soap is too curious about the package in his hands to wait that long. His box of gifts from his family arrived today, but he didn’t bother unpacking it until after dinner. Everything was neatly labeled - or scribbled by his nieces and nephews - with his name except for one.

To Ghost, From Ma MacTavish. Open Immediately.

Not one to disobey his mother, Soap raps on Ghost’s door and hopes this isn’t something too embarrassing. Lord knows his entire family is annoying enough already over his little crush, and he doesn’t need his mother stepping in to help him. There’s a rustling from behind the door before it’s swung open by a brooding Ghost. Anyone else might not see how moody he is, but Soap can tell just by studying his eyes.

“What do ya need?” he asks, voice cracking from disuse.

“Got a special delivery for you and instructions for you to open it right away,” Soap informs him, holding up the package like the peace offering that it is. Ghost eyes it suspiciously but steps aside and lets him into the room. While he’d love a chance to look around, Soap keeps his focus on Ghost out of respect for his privacy. He knows just letting him into the room was a big step for the other man.

“Your mum sent this?” Ghost asks as he takes the parcel from him. Soap nods and smiles warmly as Ghost’s eyes widen. “Better not keep her waiting then,” Ghost mutters before sitting on the edge of his bed. The package looks huge, even in his large hands, and Soap really wonders what it could be.

He tears the paper at the seams, carefully working a finger down the edge of it. It’s gentle in a way that hints of Christmases past and perhaps being yelled at to keep the wrapping for next year. Soap’s grandma used to do that and iron out each crease to save money.

When Ghost finally removes the paper, soap breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the present isn’t anything to worry about. Trust his mother to try and take care of someone she’s never met. Ghost holds up the blanket, blinking slowly at it. Soap supposes he isn’t used to getting many gifts, especially not something handmade. The blanket itself is a mix of blank and white granny squares, no doubt crocheted with love by his mother. Everyone in their house has at least one of these piled at the foot of their bed, and his heart warms at the thought of Ghost having one on his.

“She made it?” he asks in a whisper, and Soap wants to cry about it. There’s no reason a gift should put him in such a state of awe, and he vows right then and there to spoil him as much as he’s allowed to under the guise of friendship.

“You’re looking at a Ma MacTavish special right there. Everyone in the family has one, and it looks like she thinks highly of you,” he confirms.

“Never even met me.”

“Well, I suppose I’ve entertained her with a tale of two of the man who saved my life so many times. Besides, how else do you think she’d know the perfect color scheme for an emo bastard like yourself,” He says in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle up, and he knows there’s a smile beneath the mask.

“You’ll have to thank her for me. No, wait! I’ll get a thank you note together for the next time you send mail home. That alright?” he asks almost timidly, which isn’t an emotion Soap’s sure he’s ever shown before.

“She’ll love that. Sorry to barge in on you so late at night, but I’m glad I did. Should probably be heading to bed, though,” Johnny says with a pout. Dreams of being asked to stay, to tuck himself against Ghost under that very blanket flash through his mind and he has to get out of here quickly before he shows his hand.

“Me too. Night, Johnny,” Ghost says, and he understands it for the dismissal that it is. The last thing he sees as he ducks out the door is Ghost spreading the blanket across the top of his bed and smoothing it out. He’ll have to send his mother a thank you note as well.

—

There is absolutely no reason for them to be in Soap’s room instead of the rec room, but he wasn’t about to say no when Ghost suggested it. Currently they are sitting on his bed - which is way too small for two grown ass men - with their backs against the wall and his laptop propped on top of their thighs. Ghost is a constant warm presence at his side, and he’s pretty sure he would be completely lost if he hadn’t seen this movie so many times.

They each have a glass of their preferred poison in hand, and Ghost has his mask tucked up over his nose while he purses his lips at the screen in front of them. He is so fucking stunning with the light from the laptop highlighting the planes of his face, and Soap would be weak in the knees were he standing. Not that Soap is abusing his trust just to watch him more than the movie. Absolutely not. Still, the sight of Simon’s sharp jawline is a rare one and he can’t seem to stop staring. He longs to scrap his teeth over the scar that curves around it and has to hold himself back from scooting even closer to him.

“I don’t get it,” Ghost says, breaking him out of his dangerous thoughts.

“How so?” he asks, eyes already turned back to the screen to see what part of the movie they’ve reached. Nearly done at this point, but the silly plot has been a fun distraction. They don’t often get downtime, time totally free of responsibilities, and he hopes he can go without this once everything is back to normal.

“This just seems so improbable. His family forgot to bring him to the airport and they don’t have a single family friend they can call in the meantime? The police are actively searching for these two assholes and yet a child is the only one who manages to take them down? Gotta admit some of these traps are pretty awesome, though,” Ghost rambles out.

“One, I can’t believe you’ve made it this far in life without watching this. Two, this film is a masterpiece because it makes you suspend reality. Three, I’m pretty sure this is why I ended up in demolitions anyway. Do you know how many things I blew up after seeing this? I thought my Pa was going to murder me just as an example for my brothers and sisters. One time I rigged a frying pan to hit my brother in the face and it broke his fucking nose,” Soap says, unable to hold in his laughter. “Pretty sure he was about to pack me off and make me Nan deal with me, but my Ma couldn’t let her baby go.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Johnny,” Ghost tells him softly. He brings his glass up to his mouth, and Soap watches him swallow slowly, desperately trying to remind himself how they’re friends and nothing more. “Glad it brought you to me, though.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, heart pounding in his chest.

But then they fall into an easy silence, and he’s forced to turn back to the movie. They both finish their drinks as the plot winds down, and he’s about to offer another when Ghost grabs his wrist to stop him from standing up. He looks down, worried that he’s overstepped somehow, and the tightness in Ghost’s clenched jaw startles him.

“We’ve had a good week, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly.

“Loved every second of it,” Soap blurts out before he can stop himself.

“Might not love this so much,” Ghost says with a sigh. “I’ve…I’ve never been this close with anyone, barely even shared this with Price, but I’d like to give you some sort of explanation for why I keep to myself at Christmas. If you’ll listen, that is.”

“Ghost, I will always be here, no matter what you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me so much, but are you sure you want to do this while we’re drinking?” he has to ask, needs to be sure his friend won’t regret this come morning.

“You think I just keep bourbon and scotch on hand? That’s kinda the reason why I brought it with me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I needed a little courage to do it. Just, just don’t say anything until I’m done, ok? If you do I might not be able to finish,” he warns him, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Sensing how important this is, Soap sets both their glasses on his bedside table and closes the laptop. His desk lamp is on, so they’re not totally in the dark. He knows rumors of Ghost’s past, has heard a bunch of shit about his time in captivity, but every scrap of information is dear to him. He longs to know the man beside him better than he knows himself. He leans back against the wall and angles his body towards Ghost before saying, “Course. I got you.”

“When I was little, the only person I cared about was my mum. She kept me safe, kept my dad and brother away from me the best she could. I know now that my brother was only doing what he could to avoid my dad’s rage, but it still hurt back then. I won’t lie, I had a real shitty childhood and ran into the service as soon as I could. After that, things started improving. I came back home, kicked my sorry excuse for a father out of the house, and got my brother off of drugs. Hell, I stood beside him as he married the love of his life, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, but the memories threaten to crush me sometimes.”

He trails off and palms the back of his head, chewing at his lower lip. Soap stays silent, unwilling to break his promise even though Ghost looked on the verge of falling apart. They sit there for a long moment while he regroups and continues his story. Soap longs to reach out, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but he knows better than to act on it. Simon doesn’t enjoy being touched on a good day, and he’d absolutely hate it while letting himself be this vulnerable.

“Things were going well until I got betrayed and snagged by Roba. Fuck, Johnny,” he breaks off, swallowing thickly before pressing his fingers to his mouth. “It was bad. I won’t go into details, but you can only be tortured for so long before you start to doubt yourself, start to go mad instead of trying to fight it. I have no fucking clue how I managed to survive after being left for dead, but I eventually made it back home.”

Ghost shifts his legs, twitching as he picks at the fabric of his sweats. He takes a few deep breaths and stares ahead at the wall, shoulders tense as he continues. “They died on Christmas, and it was all my fault. Roba still had his hooks in me, and couldn't let me go since I escaped with my life. One more betrayal led me back to my mum’s house that only hours before had been full of celebration and Christmas cheer. When I got there, the whole house was up in flames. The fire was so hot, but I had to save them. Only it was too late, because they were lying dead near the doorway. They even put a bullet through the forehead of my nephew. He was so small, so fragile, and I couldn’t even save him.”

He falls quiet, and it seems like he’s finished. Soap knew it was bad, but wasn’t expecting something so tragic. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just lays a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, deciding to risk the touch at this point. It seems to shatter something inside of him and he slumps over to lean on Soap’s shoulder.

“The men involved?” he asks quietly.

“Killed them all. Didn’t bring back my family, though. So yeah, Christmas fucking sucks, but at least I’m not alone this year. Didn’t know it would be easier with you here, but you always manage to help me stay calm. Should have expected it,” he says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion, and Soap knows he’s worn himself out.

“Thank you for trusting me with this. I, it’s, well it’s fucked up that you had to experience that. I know nothing I say can help make it much better, and I’m honestly not sure how you managed to get through it, but I’m grateful you did. I can’t imagine being here without you,” Soap says after a long moment. He knew Ghost has a shitty past, had heard about him digging himself out of his own grave, but this is a whole new level of horrible. If it happened to him, he can’t say he would still be here to talk about it.

“Price helped a lot. Pushed me through it and then kept me around,” Ghost says, turning to stare at the wall. Soap isn’t sure what he can offer at this point, but he has the feeling Ghost might not want to be alone after unloading all of this.

“Stay with me?” he asks, watching as Ghost’s shoulders rise up. He still isn’t looking at him, so he keeps talking. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I can’t imagine wanting to be by myself after such an intense conversation. Would feel bad if I let you go back to your room, really.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually sleep with the mask on,” Ghost says with a chuckle. And ok, he can work with that.

“So let me freshen up and get myself ready for bed. You can go after me, and I’ll just sleep on my side. I can keep my eyes shut, give you your privacy,” he suggests. Ghost finally turns to look at him, and there’s a telltale hint of red around his eyes. If Soap was still religious, he’d offer up a prayer that the other man agrees. He clearly needs comforting tonight.

“Yeah, ok,” Ghost mumbles. “Gonna change into my sleep stuff, though. I’ll get ready in my room and be back in a few.”

He practically leaps out of the bed, and Soap hopes he holds true to his word. He goes through his nightly routine on autopilot, not even aware of it until he’s crawling into his bed. He leaves the side of the covers up and turns onto his side to face the wall. It’s only just catching up to him that he invited Ghost into his bed, but tonight isn’t about him. He’d be offering the same closeness to Gaz if he shared something as horrific as Ghost just did.

If anything, this only proves how amazingly strong Ghost is. He had to reinvent himself twice, the second time with no one to support him. They’ve all seen and done some really horrendous things in the name of queen and country, but he can’t fathom coming home to find the burning bodies of his family at his feet.

He’s yanked out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening and shutting. The clunk of Ghost setting down his boots seems impossibly loud in the silence, and he holds his breath waiting for Ghost to come to bed. He hears the muffled sound of Ghost removing his mask and setting it on the bedside table and fights the urge to turn around and look at his gorgeous face. He’s here as a friend tonight, and his feelings don’t matter right now.

The bed dips behind him, and the covers shift as Ghost settles in behind him. There’s an awkward few seconds where they both shuffle around trying to figure out how two large men can fit in such a small bed, but then Ghost sighs and rolls onto his side to frame Soap from behind. He slings an arm across Soap’s hips and presses his nose against the nape of Soap’s neck. The last thing he hears as he drifts off is a soft, “Thank you, Johnny.”

—

Unsurprisingly, Ghost is gone when he wakes up. The bed is still warm, though, so he knows he spent the whole night. He wishes he could have woken him up with a Merry Christmas, but understands his need for time to himself. Chris, last night had been a lot. Hopefully he can still provide a little holiday cheer tonight, but even if they eat in silence he’ll have a great time. Every second spent at Ghost’s side is a better gift than anything he could ever fine underneath the tree.

He spends the morning in the gym, working out his frustrations. Life wasn’t fair, but it has been exceedingly rotten towards Ghost. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to change his past, but he’ll damn sure be here for his future. It feels like they crossed a line last night, but he’s not sure which one. Nothing romantic happened, but he feels closer to Ghost than anyone before. He’s willing to bet Ghost hasn’t opened up this much to many people, probably just Price, and he’s ashamed at how giddy that makes him feel.

They might not ever be together, but they’ll always be solid.

After lunch and a long, self-indulgent shower it’s easy to keep himself busy by running through last minute preparations. They hadn’t said anything about exchanging gifts, but Soap kept finding the perfect things for him.He knows Ghost will love the aged bourbon, even though it hurt his Scottish heart to buy it. There’s also a new knife that came highly recommended by their armorer and a deck of cards with holographic skulls on them. Wrapping was never his strong suit, but he managed to slap some paper onto his gifts. Sure, it looked like they were wrapped by a small child, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

He just finishes heating up the catering he picked up the day before and is about to text Ghost to hurry up and join him when his phone goes off. It’s an incoming FaceTime from his mother, and he decides there’s plenty of time to take it before Ghost swings by. He’s been missing his family all day, but they promised to call at some point.

“Ma! Happy Christmas!” he shouts, laughing as his entire family tries to crowd into the camera view.

“You’ll each get a turn, back off,” his mother says, already throwing elbows at his siblings and their kids. His dad stands next to her, silent as always but with a huge smile on his face. He lifts his glass in cheers, and Johnny waves back in response.

“We’re about to eat dinner, but It’s good to see you all. Make sure everyone gets hugs from me, even though I’m not with you this year. And pass out my presents! Make sure the kids know how much Uncle John spoils them. I want photographic evidence!” he says, laughing as one of his nieces tries to jump into the view again. His dad picks her up and wanders off, no doubt about to bribe her into behaving with cookies.

“I hope staying away is worth it,” his mother says, but she doesn’t look mad, just nosy. She’s been on him for months to bring his boy home, no matter how much he tells her they aren’t dating. Ghost is one hundred percent his boy, though, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.

“It’s worth every second away from you all,” he answers honestly, “I’ll be home as soon as we get more downtime, but you know why I have to be here. Thanks for understanding.”

“Anything for my baby,” his mom says, snorting when he scowls at her.

“You ever going to stop calling me that?” he asks, knowing full well she never will. He isn’t mad, not really, just likes to give her grief about it.

“If you didn’t want to be my baby, you’d have been born higher up the chain,” she tells him with a smirk.

“We can argue about it later. Let me get dinner on the table and then we’ll chat again later, yeah? We can pass around the phone so all the kids can show me everything they got,” he suggests, and his mom nods in response.

“Go feed your boy,” she tells him and ends the call before he can quip back at her.

“Not my boy,” he mumbles to the empty room.

But then someone clears their throat from behind him, and his heart sinks into his chest. Fuck. He spins around with a fake smile on his face to find Ghost standing there with his arms crossed.

“I’m assuming you heard all of that?” he asks with a grimace.

“You lied about your family not being together,” Ghost says, though he knows it’s a question.

“Aye, I did. And I don’t feel bad about it. I couldn’t leave you here alone again. Like it or not, I’m here for you,” he says with a sharp nod. He’s already gearing for a fight, ready to be stubborn as hell about it, but what Ghost says next throws him off his game.

“Because I’m your boy,” he asks, and Johnny can hear the fucking smirk in his voice. He has a plain balaclava on today, which is as dressed down as Ghost seems to get.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let that one go? We can forget about it,” he offers quietly. Because who is he to keep dreaming, right? He’s been dropping hints for at least a year now, and Ghost hasn’t taken the bait. He teeter-totters between thinking the man returns his feelings to thinking he barely tolerates him. Regardless, he meant what he said and he’ll be standing by his side as long as Ghost lets him.

“And if I don’t want to forget it? What if I wanted to be your boy? Though I’d prefer man, if we’re being honest here,” Ghost says, and he freezes while his brain catches up.

“You fucking with me?” he asks, just because he needs to know, needs to be sure before he makes a fool of himself. Well, more of a fool than he already has.

“No, but we could fool around later if dinner goes well,” Ghost tells him, laughing as he reaches up and pulls the mask off. He tosses it onto the table, barely missing the salad bowl.

And fuck, he’s a bonnie lad. Soap can’t even speak, just stands there staring at him, eyes trailing over every exposed inch of his face, committing it to memory in case this is the last time he sees it for a while. “You’re stunning,” he whispers in awe. Then he has the pleasure of watching Ghost’s face darken, the apples of his cheeks turning pink and making the freckles dotting them stand out even more.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before stepping closer. “But yeah, I’m all in if you want this too. Want me. I’m sick of wasting time. Maybe next year we can be with your family instead of me keeping you stuck on base.”

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he says truthfully. “And I’d rather be stuck here every single year if you prefer it. But you heard my Ma. She wants you home with me.”

“Let’s make sure we make it to next Christmas, then,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of worry in his tone.

“Never letting go of you now,” Soap warns him with a laugh. Ghost chuckles and moves in so close the toes of their boots touch.

“Hard to let go if you haven’t even touched me yet,” he points out. And fuck if his smirk isn’t as lovely as Soap had imagined. It’s crooked, a scar bisecting the left side, but it’s perfect to him.

“Better fix that. Can I kiss you, Ghost?” he asks softly.

“Simon. Call me Simon when we’re alone,” he says breathily, and Soap knows how out of his comfort zone he is right now.

“Simon, can I kiss you? Please?” he asks and Simon just nods at him.

And so he does. He cups Simon’s cheeks, brushing a thumb across the constellation of freckles there, and leans in to press their mouths together. It seems almost anticlimactic after all their flirting, but the feel of Simon’s chapped lips against his is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He can almost feel the tension leave both their bodies as they melt into each other. He keeps things light, pulls back before thinking better and darting back for another quick kiss.

Kissing Simon isn’t a burst of fireworks, but it’s like coming home which is even more perfect.

“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m really fucking in love with you?” he asks teasingly.

“Only if I can say the same,” Simon says, chuckling as he palms the back of Johnny’s head and drags him into another kiss.

And if they stand there kissing in the middle of the rundown rec room, lost in each other long after their dinner has gone cold, it’s no one's business but their own.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #my fic

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incorrect-hs-quotes · 1 year ago

Text

JOHN: hello, one and all, and welcome to the john and karkat show!

KARKAT: I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU TALKED ME INTO DOING A FUCKING COMEDY ACT WITH YOU.

JOHN: neither can i! we’ve even got a full house! it’s like a dream come true!

KARKAT: MORE LIKE A NIGHTMARE.

JOHN: hey, speaking of dreams. i’ve always had a bit of a dream.

KARKAT: YEAH, YEAH, YOU WANTED TO BE A COMEDIAN. I KNOW.

JOHN: well, this is actually a different dream. more so than a comedian, i always wanted to run a weapon shop.

KARKAT: OKAY, BUT WHY BRING THAT UP NOW? WHEN YOU’VE ALREADY CONVINCED ME TO DO THE COMEDY SHOW THING?

JOHN: well… i was wondering if you could help me practice.

KARKAT: PRACTICE… RUNNING A WEAPON SHOP?

JOHN: yeah! i’ll be the shop keeper, and you can be, uh… a zoo keeper! right?

JOHN: and all your animals have run away, and your matesprit’s left you!

KARKAT: OH, OKAY. NICE AND EASY THEN. WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE, A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL ACTOR? SERIOUSLY, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO BE?

JOHN: uh… a lion tamer?

KARKAT: HOW IS THAT ANY FUCKING EASIER. CAN’T I JUST BE MY FUCKING SELF?

JOHN: oh, nobody wants to see that.

KARKAT: OH, I SEE WHAT YOU’RE DOING HERE! YOU’RE TRYING TO GIVE ME SOMETHING REALLY HARD TO DO SO YOU LOOK BETTER!

JOHN: no, i just thought you’d like a nice juicy role! something to really sink your teeth into, you know?

KARKAT: A JUICY ROLE, HUH? …WELL, I MAY NOT BE A PROFESSIONAL, BUT I HAVE SEEN AN AWFUL LOT OF BROADWAY…

KARKAT: ALL RIGHT. SO, I’M THE CUSTOMER AT YOUR WEAPONSHOP. AND YOU’RE THE PROPRIETOR OF SAID ESTABLISHMENT. ALL RIGHT, GIVE ME A MOMENT…

KARKAT: AHEM. KNOCK KNOCK, HOW ARE YOU?

JOHN: get out of here!

KARKAT: ????? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? YOU SLAMMED THE DOOR IN MY FUCKING FACE!

JOHN: well, we’re not open yet.

KARKAT: HURRY UP AND OPEN, THEN!

JOHN: yeesh, customers these days. okay, we’re open now.

KARKAT: GOOD. KNOCK KNOCK, HOW ARE YOU?

JOHN: how are you?

KARKAT: I… UH… WANTED TO SEE WHAT WEAPONS YOU HAVE HERE. AT THIS WEAPON SHOP.

JOHN: sorry, that’s next door down.

KARKAT: WHA- NO IT FUCKING ISN’T!

JOHN: it’s my shop!

KARKAT: YEAH, YOUR WEAPON SHOP!

JOHN: you can’t tell me what i sell in my own shop!

KARKAT: YOU SAID IT YOURSELF YOU WANTED IT TO BE A FUCKING WEAPON SHOP!

JOHN: it is a weapon shop!

KARKAT: I SWEAR TO FUCK-

JOHN: all right, all right, i’ll do it properly this time. it’s a weapon shop.

KARKAT: GOOD.

JOHN: selling weapons.

KARKAT: EXACTLY.

JOHN: righto.

KARKAT: KNOCK KNOCK, HOW ARE YOU? WHAT WEAPONS DO YOU HAVE HERE?

JOHN: what weapons are you after?

KARKAT: WELL- I DON’T KNOW. UH… HOW ABOUT ONE OF THE HUGE CHOPPY ONES? …YEAH. A REALLY MASSIVE ONE OF THOSE.

JOHN: uh… sorry, can’t help you there.

KARKAT: WHA- BUT YOU’RE THE FUCKING SHOPKEEPER!

JOHN: i am sorry, sir. but that is just…………………… too big an ax. :B

KARKAT: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? A FUCKING AXE PUN? FIVE HUNDRED WORDS FOR A FUCKING AXE PUN?

JOHN: we’re at a comedy show! i didn’t realize you were taking it so seriously.

KARKAT: OF COURSE I’M TAKING IT SERIOUSLY! YOU SHOULD TOO!

JOHN: why?

KARKAT: BECAUSE THIS WAS YOUR FUCKING IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE!

JOHN: all right, sorry, sorry.

KARKAT: YOU’RE DRIVING ME FUCKING CRAZY! YOU AND YOUR STUPID BUCK TEETH.

JOHN: sorry. so, a weapon shop.

KARKAT: YEAH, A FUCKING WEAPON SHOP. GET THAT INTO YOUR FUCKING THINKPAN.

JOHN: got it!

KARKAT: KNOCK. KNOCK. HOW ARE YOU.

JOHN: arrow and welcome.

KARKAT: I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF.

JOHN: arrow you doing?

KARKAT: YOU’D MAKE A HORRENDOUS SHOPKEEPER! ONE CUSTOMER AND YOU’RE ALL A-QUIVER!

JOHN: thank you and goodnight!

#submission #homestuck #incorrect homestuck quotes #quote #long quote #john egbert #karkat vantas #mod dave #i can see it. the steam coming out of karkats ears as john keeps this shit up

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year ago

Note

Val! Heya love.

So, for your birthday ask game. I was gonna choose a trope from the office relationship, but it got out of hand when I liked more than 5🥹.

Can we please have something for Steve and Reader, where at SHIELD they’re incredibly close and have feelings for each other?

Lots of sticky notes on laptops, doodles on briefs, texts to one another under the table about coworkers, fixing ties and hair, and maybe sporadic texts about something to do with“work/meetings” when they really just want an excuse to talk to the other?

Sab, darling!!!

A/N: I loved this request so I hope you like what I wrote for it. Also send in all the other request I promise I don’t mind!!

Between sticky notes, meeting rooms and elevators.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: pining and fluff, some America puns (I’m so sorry they’re only like two but I couldn’t help myself)

You were late and your boss hated when you were late. It didn’t help that when you finally got to the briefing all eyes were on you when you got to the only available seat.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Ms. Y/L/N. Now we can finally get started.” Your boss announces.

You take a deep breath as you look up to find Steve sitting right across from you. He raised an eyebrow at you and shook his head in mock disappointment. You rolled your eyes and smiled before your eyes landed on the disposable coffee cup in front of you. There was a little smiley face with your name on it in Steve’s handwriting. You mouth a thank you and he winks at you before turning his attention to the front of the room. Those pesky little butterflies that made your stomach their home since the day you met Steve took flight again.

~~~~~~~

“Hey Y/N,” Steve calls out to you as soon as the meeting is over. The sea of people in the hallway parts for him. “So how was your morning?” He smiles, the mischief behind his eyes lets you know he’s just joking.

“It was wonderful. My alarm didn’t go off, traffic was horrible and I had this meeting right at the beginning of the day with the most annoying of my boss.”

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Steve is already holding his laughter as you turn around with a horrified look on your face. Your boss glares at you for a moment.

“Don’t let your tardiness become a habit Ms. Y/L/N.” he states before walking away.

Steve just gives a long whew as he watches your boss walk away. You cover your face behind the files you’re holding before Steve pulls them away in order to hold them for you.

“Did you know he was standing behind me?” You look up at him with a pout.

“Absolutely not. I would never let you embarrass yourself like that even though it was entertaining.”

You just glare up at him, mostly playfully. He laughs as you both get on the elevator. As others get on you’re pushed back more until you end up back to chest with Steve. His free arm comes up and around your waist to keep you up right. You hope he can’t hear your heart beating faster the longer you stand that close to him.

Once you are on your floor you get out while Steve stays on the elevator. Neither of you would really look at each other so you couldn’t see the pink tint on his cheeks and the sheepish smile that played on his lips.

“I’ll-uh I’ll send those reports to you as soon as I can.” You say.

“I’ll be waiting for them.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” He says and then the doors close.

*****

Just as you said the reports were ready for Steve. With a pep in your step you go up to his office to drop them off even though there is someone that can do that for you. You frown when you get to your destination as you see that the lights are off. Grabbing a post-it you always carry with you and a pen you write a quick note and leave the file in his drop box.

A few minutes later you get a text.

Steve: Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Attached to his text was a picture of the sticky note. It was a drawing of a stick figure saluting and it says. ‘I know you ameriCAN do it.’

Y/N: You’re welcome. ☺️☺️

Y/N: let me know you make it back safe!

Steve: Always do. 😉

You smile at your phone before putting it away and working on the next set of reports.

~~~~~~

Steve: This guy’s voice is so monotonous that he's making himself fall asleep.

You try to hide your laugh behind a cough while Steve has the nerve to send you a message shushing you.

Y/N: not fair! Don’t make me laugh like that.

Steve: 🤷🏼 it’s true though… don’t look now but I think Linda from accounting is asleep with her eyes open.

You slowly look over and you watch as one of her coworkers nudges her. She starts slightly and then sinks into her chair further.

Y/N: 💀💀 oh maybe you should recruit him for the avengers. He could just give this speech to any bad guy and they’ll turn themselves in just to avoid hearing him anymore.

It was Steve’s turn to huff a laugh and try to cover it by clearing his throat. You were seated in different sections because of your jobs but still managed to be in each other's line of sight. Every time you looked over he would pretend to be nodding off, you shook your head every time before looking away.

****

“I thought that guy would never stop talking.” You say as you meet Steve in the hallway.

“Yeah, that was painful.”

“Oh, here are those analyses you requested.” You hand him a few folders. “Everything is arranged from what I thought would need priority down to low grade issues.”

“Thanks. Here are my completed reports.” He hands you a folder. “Everything is signed, all it needs is your review and it can be filed.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” He smiles at you. That boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

When you get to your desk and open the first folder you laugh. Paperclipped to the first report was a doodle of the speaker from earlier except Steve has made him look like a sloth. You take the doodle out of the folder and place it in the small box you keep all of the doodles Steve gives you.

~~~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Hey Steve,” you say as you look over some information that he needed. “I have that report you requested but you aren’t in your office.”

“Oh yeah, I was called back to New York for a mission with the avengers.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No,” he shakes his head even though you can’t see him. “You’re never an interruption. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah I just wanted to know what you wanted me to do with the report , you know, since you’re not here.”

There was a protocol in place for this occasion. You knew that and so did Steve. Still neither of you could wipe those dopey grins on your faces as you spoke to each other.

“Why don’t you hold on to them and I’ll get them once I get back?”

“That works.” There’s a small silence before you break it. “Well I’ll leave you to it. Please-“

“I don’t have to hang up yet. I mean if you have time, we can talk.”

“I’d like that.”

“Have I missed anything in the office since I left?” He asks as he sits back in his bed at the tower.

“You mean in the three hours since you left?”

“Yup.”

“Of course you did. Now you didn’t hear it from me, but rumor is that Linda from accounting is having an affair.”

“No!”

“Yes. And you’ll never guess with who?”

“Who?” Steve asks excitedly.

“Sloth man.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s only what I’ve heard, it hasn’t been confirmed.”

“I wonder what she sees in him.”

“A good night's sleep.” You murmur.

Steve throws his head back and laughs. Once he calms down he starts giving you theories about the supposed rumor. Then the conversation turns into other topics. Before you know it you’ve been on the phone for at least two hours when he needs to leave.

“Please be safe.”

“I will. See you in a day or so.” Steve says before hanging up.

~~~~~~~~~

The day had dragged on. Maybe it was because you didn’t have much work for the day. But you had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with a certain blond haired, blue-eyed super soldier not being around.

It wasn’t until late in the evening and you were working extra hours that you received a very long overdue break. There’s a little knock at the end of your desk. You push yourself a little bit to turn your chair around. Words die on your tongue when you see a bruised up Steve standing there.

“Oh my god what happened?” You raise your hand to lightly touch a bruise on his cheek.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you immediately realize how inappropriate it is. When you go to pull your hand away he doesn’t let you. His thumb is drawing a lazy circle on your wrist as he brings both your hands down.

“Just some bad guys. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Why are you still here?”

“I think my boss is still mad that I called him annoying and I’m stuck doing more paperwork.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Well I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Nope.”

“Good.” He smiles at you and then pulls a bag from behind his back. “Because I brought your favorite.”

“My hero.” You beam before turning and clearing a spot on your desk. Steve places the bag down and pulls a chair from an empty desk and sits down with a bit of a grunt. “So spill it.” You motion to him.

“Just a mission.”

“I need a play by play. Come on please. I read all of your reports, they’re basically a book at this point and I need the next chapter.”

He huffed a laugh. “Fine. But it’s rather boring.”

“You could never bore me.”

“Could I get that in writing? I’d like to have proof for Tony.”

“Sure, I’ll even have it notarized.”

He laughs again and shakes his head. Then he starts talking about the mission. You could sit there listening to Steve talk about anything. After he finished that story you moved on to other topics, work now long forgotten.

~~~~~~~

As much as you hated it, Shield was requiring a certain number of their employees from each department to attend a gala. Because your boss still had it out for you, you were selected to attend.

You were fiddling with the necklace you’d paired with your dress as you walked through the already crowded venue. Someone grabs you by your forearm and pulls you into an empty hallway while you try to throw a punch.

“Woah calm down, it’s just me.” Steve said as he let go of you.

“Why would you grab me like that?”

“I’m sorry I just didn’t want anyone to realize I was here. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, it’s just I thought I was being kidnapped.” You frown a bit.

“I’d never let that happen.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, you knew he meant it as a friend but sometimes you wish it was more than that.

“Is everything ok?”

“Honestly, I’m kind of nervous.”

“You are nervous? Why?” You ask incredulously.

“This function is for World War Two vets. I don’t know it’s not the same as if I was dealing with someone that didn’t fight in it. They ask questions and I can play it down a bit but with the vets… It makes me feel exposed.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I have to give a speech. If I find you a seat closer to the stage would you take it?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you .”

“Don’t mention it.”

His large hand takes yours and he pulls you down the hall with the intention of leading you to the seat he mentioned. You tug on his hand so that he stops and turns to you. Pulling him a bit closer you reach up and fix the bow tie. Then your hands instinctively run across his shoulders and down his chest in order to smooth out his tux. He smiles at you then. His eyes light up when he sees you return it. The moment is far too intimate for two friends to be sharing but it feels right nonetheless.

Steve graciously walks you to an open seat and heads to the stage. Just like you knew it would, the speech was a success. Still every once in a while he’d look down at you and you’d return an encouraging smile.

****

“May I have this dance?” Steve had his hand stretched out in front of you.

“Why yes you may.”

You place your smaller hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor. Steve places one hand on your waist and the other takes your hand. As a slow song starts playing he begins to lead, the scent of his cologne is intoxicating in the best ways.

“I thought you didn’t dance.”

“Only with the right partner. Besides, Sam bet that I wouldn’t dance with the most beautiful woman here. I had to prove him wrong.” He says just as he turns both of you and Sam comes into your line of sight, raising a glass of champagne and smiling.

“Steve…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought it was time I told you how I really felt. It’s ok if you don’t feel the same but I learned my lesson the hard way.” He spins you around and pulls you back in. “I like you as more than just friends. Seeing you makes my day, I can literally be having the worst day and you make it better. If it weren’t for you working at Shield would have been a nightmare. You saw me for more than just Captain America and I don’t think you realize what that means to me. It’s never bothered you to have to do things differently or having to spend time teaching me something because I just don’t know about all of the new technology. Most importantly you don’t mock me for it, you accept me as I am. And I’m so grateful you’re in my life.”

Steve dips you and as he pulls you back up all you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes. He smiles fondly at you as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I have to go on a mission. But would you be willing to talk about this some more when I get back?”

You just nod, all words had escaped you at the moment. How were you supposed to respond? You adored Steve but never in a million years did you think it was reciprocated. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek before walking towards Sam. Then you watch as they both walk out. By the time you leave the gala you’re still reeling and trying to figure out how to respond.

~~~~~~~~~

Steve didn’t get back until Tuesday. It had been four days since the gala and since he told you how he felt. He was supposed to be back today. You knew for a fact he was because some of the people on your team had mentioned seeing him. Without being able to take much more you rush to the elevator and press the button for his floor.

Everyone around you rushes out but you are glued to your spot. Standing at the doors is Steve, looking as handsome as ever. His eyes light up when he sees you even though there’s a really bad bruise on his cheek and it’s obvious the mission was worse than expected. Still he steps into the elevator and no one dares walk in, leaving the two of you alone. The elevator starts to ascend but Steve pushes the stop button.

“Hi.” You manage to squeak out.

“Hi, I am free tonight by the way.”

“Oh, good.” You say as you try to hide your smile.

“But another America joke really?” He holds up the post-it note you had placed inside a folder for him to find.

It simply reads: on a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight? With a few stars drawn around it.

“You are Captain America, I have to use that to my advantage.” You giggle at his fake huff of annoyance. “Since you’re a superhero does that mean you’re super free tonight?”

Steve genuinely laughs this time before he turns to you. He finds that you’re already looking up at him with a soft smile.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“Oh so you think I’m cute.”

“Yup.” He takes a step towards you, forcing you against the wall. His hands rest on the small handrail, effectively caging you in.

“How cute would I have to be to get you to kiss me?”

“I think you’re there already.” Steve says before his lips are on yours.

It was better than what you had imagined. His lips were soft, the kiss was sweet. Unfortunately it was short lived.

“If you two are done holding up the elevator, I’d really appreciate seeing Captain Rogers in my office. Now.” Director Fury’s voice came through the speaker and you pulled away quickly.

You giggled at the fact that you had been caught. The butterflies in your belly were in full flight as Steve smiled at you. When the elevator came to a stop he pressed a kiss to your cheek and stepped out.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You smile at him as the doors close. A few seconds later you get a text.

Steve: It's a date. 😉

#you’ve got mail 💌#val answers #val’s birthday celebration #val’s 1000 follower celebration #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfic #Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america #sab 🐉

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queenofthekings · 2 years ago

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𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎 (𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊)

Summary: Hawkins, Indiana, 1986. A dead end town where nothing happens. One night, Eddie Munson goes missing without a trace. He turns up two weeks later on your doorstep, covered in blood and no memory of the last two weeks. When you notice him acting strangely, you follow Eddie into the woods and discover his terrifying secret. But the most terrifying part to you? You can't bring yourself to stay away from Eddie. Whether you've realised you're in love with him or you're under his spell, you don't want to be away from Eddie for a single second and a deadly love affair begins.

Author's note: I doubt anyone's read it but this is a revamped (no pun intended) version of the fic of the same name on AO3 I wrote last year. I love that fic so much and felt like people on here would miss out on it as I haven't posted it here. If you'd ever like to read the original version, you can find it here! If any of you do choose to read it in it's entirety, please don't spoil it for others!

CW: 18+, swearing, character death, sex references, potential smut in later chapters, vampire!Eddie, blood, scenes that people may find disturbing.

Word count: 4.3k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

The alarm went off at 6:15 AM on the dot, its obnoxious and short beeping noise was the worst part of waking up, yet it was a necessary evil. You groaned as you reached out to turn off the beeping and hide back under the covers. You really weren’t in the mood to face the world or school.

You laid under the covers for another five minutes until you sighed, reluctantly pushing the covers out of the way, and sitting up. Rubbing your eyes, you groaned once more as you realized the glass next to you bed was empty. “Thirsty,” you frowned, climbing out of bed, and grabbing your glass to go downstairs and refill it.

Once you reached the kitchen, you stared out the window as your glass began to fill with water. You were completely lost in your own thoughts, distracted by a bird pecking at the grass. Suddenly, your felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to shriek and drop your glass.

Turning around to confront the culprit behind you, you punched your older brother in the arm. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!”

Stephen laughed loudly, giving you a quick hug. “I couldn’t help myself, I’m sorry. You’re so easy to scare.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You laughed, picking up your glass to drink what little water was left in it before turning off the tap. “How was work?”

Stephen sighed, filling the kettle, and setting it to boil. “Same old, same old. Jamie’s gonna take you to school if that's alright.”

You frowned as you put your glass down in the sink for washing. “Why can’t you take me?”

“Because, pipsqueak, I’m fuckin’ tired.” He poured himself some coffee before leaving the kitchen and disappearing upstairs.

It had just been the three of you for almost three years; your mom had died of cancer and dad was nowhere to be found. To keep food on the table, all three of you worked. Stephen worked nights at the powerplant, Jamie worked days at the general store, and you worked weekends and the odd evening at the diner.

It wasn't much, but you made it work.

“Y/N!” Jamie called out. “I am leaving in exactly seven minutes! If you’re not ready then, I’m leaving without you!”

“Shit!” You sprinted upstairs to hastily get ready for school. You frantically threw on an Evil Dead t-shirt, dark plaid mini-skirt, and old grey socks, forcing your feet into a pair of black boots. Additionally, you grabbed your denim jacket off the floor before picking up your backpack and hurtling yourself down the stairs.

Jamie stood at the front door, looking at his watch. “Only thirty seconds to spare, I’m impressed.”

You pushed past him to get out the front door, giving him a death glare before smiling. “Oh shut up, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“But for how long?” Jamie's expression went sinister as he opened the door for you before climbing into the car himself.

After climbing into the car, you punched his arm. “If you kill me on the way to school, you’d be doing me a kindness. Surely, you want me to suffer as much as possible.”

Turning the car on, Jamie pressed play on the stereo, Bronski Beat began playing throughout the car. “If I can't kill you, I'll just leave you with my terrible music.”

You groaned, sinking down into your seat. “You're too kind, sparing my life and giving me the gift of whatever this is.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “I am nothing but merciful.”

The rest of the car ride was silent as you tapped your thighs to the beat of the music, watching Hawkins fly past you. Yawning, you leaned your head against the window and tried not to fall back asleep. All the late nights were definitely catching up to you and it was probably time to sleep early for once, not that you’d ever actually do it though.

The car pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot and came to a halt, with you climbing out and grabbing your backpack.

“Stephen will pick you up tonight, as usual. I'll be home probably at about 6 with dinner, alright?” Jamie leaned over to make sure you could hear him.

You nodded, putting on your headphones and grabbing your Walkman out of your backpack. “I’ll see you at home.” You didn't bother waiting for a reply as you walked into school, pressing play on your music, Shout by Tears for Fears filling your ears.

Arriving at your locker, you ignored the “Hellfire’s Bitch” plastered all over it. You’d long since given up trying to rub it off as it would appear again the next day, you were used to it anyway. When it first started to happen, you’d always scream and cry about how much you hated it and how it wasn’t true, but now you wore the name like a badge of honour.

Better to be known as Hellfire’s Bitch than a slut, right?

While you weren’t an official member of the Hellfire Club, you were still pretty good friends with the members. After your mom died, they’d more or less taken you under their wing. They made you laugh again and remind you that you always had someone looking out for you, no matter what.

The only downside was being teased for being associated with “freaks” and having to deal with the constant fear of being beaten up by Jason and his band of loyal cultists. While you hadn’t been attacked yet, you knew it was coming at some point – you were 5’1”, you didn’t stand a chance against Jason’s 5’8” frame. You’d be toast in seconds.

You shrugged off those thoughts, grabbing the necessary books out of your locker and walked to your first class, not bothering to take off your headphones. You weren’t in any classes with any of your friends anyway, so there was no point in taking them off.

You breezed your way through the classes, never putting your hand up and taking notes if you needed to. Before your mom’s death, you’d always be engaged in classes and would always ask questions. But now? You didn’t see a point in doing anything but getting your work done so you could get out.

Once the lunch bell rang, you rushed into the cafeteria and looked around for your friends, only to have Eddie Munson stand on his table and stretch his arms out towards you. “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”

Blushing deeply, you laughed and made your way over to his table. “Alright, Romeo, you can stop with the theatrics now.” Placing your tray on the table, you flattened the back of your skirt and sat down closest to Eddie.

Eddie moved his chair slightly closer to you. “You’ll never guess who I’m gonna ask to prom.”

You looked at him and then at the rest of the table before back to Eddie, knowing that everyone except you knew who he was talking about. “I’ll guess Nancy Wheeler.”

Gareth almost choked on his food from laughing. “Close but not quite.”

You went silent for a few moments to think, the smile slowly growing on your lips as an idea came to your head. “Chrissy Cunningham? Fuck off, even I wanna sleep with her.”

The entire table sat up straighter at your comment, all of them instantly thinking of you and Chrissy making out in very little clothing. Several of the boys coughed awkwardly as they readjusted their jeans, causing you to roll your eyes and turn back to Eddie. “You’re such a bullshitter, Munson.”

Eddie put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not bullshitting, I swear.”

You laughed, opening your carton of juice. “I’ll believe you when I see it for myself.”

Eddie gave you a slight smirk, his eyes focused on your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes. “Don’t you worry, Juliet, I’ll prove it.”

You raised an eyebrow, licking your lips. “I’m betting on it.”

Gareth sighed, slamming his fist down on the table, causing you and Eddie to jump. “Either kiss and get it over with or stop eye-fucking each other, there’s kids around.”

You and Eddie moved slightly away from each other, coughing awkwardly as you took a sip of your juice. Talk at the table went to the usual next D&D session, you just sitting and listening to the excited boys, not knowing, or understanding anything that was being said. But listening to the excitement in their voices always made your smile.

The rest of the school day went by uneventfully and ended with you waiting outside the school for Stephen to pick you up. As usual, he was late. Everyone else had already gone home, leaving you to sit on the wall in front of the school with your headphones on, staring at the road and waiting for Stephen’s car.

A person stood in front of you, causing you to take your headphones off and look up at them. “Well well well, it looks like it’s just you and me, Juliet."

You sighed, folding your arms over your chest. “Why are you still here, Eddie? School’s over.”

Eddie almost frowned as he sat down beside you on the wall, ignoring your question. “Why are you still here?”

“Stephen’s supposed to pick me up. I guess he forgot,” you shrugged, grimacing.

“What’re you listening to?” Eddie took your headphones, pressing play on your Walkman before you could answer. You watched his face show little to no emotion as he listened to your music, his eyes focused on something in the distance, or probably nothing at all.

After a few minutes, he took the headphones off and handed the Walkman back to you. “Because you didn't give me a chance to answer before you listened, it’s Modern Talking.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “It's… different.”

You shook your head, laughing a little. “It’s okay, you can say you hate it.”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning his head in closer to yours. “Whoever said I hated it?”

“Oh please, I know you, Romeo. You don’t wanna be rude by saying my music is terrible, so you call it interesting, you’ve said that about anything you don’t like that I like.”

Eddie smirked. “So you think you know me?”

You raised an eyebrow, getting closer to him. “Of course I know you, we know each other very well.”

“Maybe we do, maybe we don’t.”

You moved away, brushing him off. “You never answered my earlier question, why are you still here?”

Eddie shrugged, fiddling with the ends of your hair. “I was about to leave when I saw you out here alone, I didn’t think you should be waiting for your bother alone... if he even turns up.”

You frowned. “He’ll turn up, he’s just running late.”

“I’ll tell you what; if he doesn’t turn up in the next 10 minutes, I will take you home.”

You thought about his offer for a moment before slowly nodding your head. “Okay, sure.”

It wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had offered to drive you home; he’d even done it a handful of times over the past few years. But you always felt guilty over him having to stay later after school to wait with you and then eventually drive you home.

While your brothers tolerated Eddie and accepted that he was a friend, they were still wary of him. Not because of any of the Hellfire “cult” nonsense, but because of Eddie’s reputation for dealing drugs and smoking almost constantly. It was the typical overprotective older brother routine that you’d had been forced to live with since your parents died.

Eddie lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke, being careful to not blow it in your face. You looked in his direction, taking the cigarette from him and taking a long drag, blowing out the smoke as you handed it back.

Almost hesitantly, Eddie took the cigarette back. “Okay, that was the hottest thing you've ever done, who knew Juliet could hold a smoke?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. “Surprised, Munson?”

He took another drag, processing everything he’d just witnessed. “I just pictured you as the good girl, never doing anything like this.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We crash parties all the time, I’d hardly call myself the good girl.”

Eddie took one last long drag before throwing his cigarette away. “In that case, Juliet, the not good girl, I think it’s high time I take you home.”

You sighed, nodding as you picked up your backpack and jacket, making your way over to Eddie’s van with Eddie wrapping an arm around your shoulder. His arm dropped to open the passenger side door for you before disappearing to the other side of the van and climbing in.

You tossed your bag and jacket in before climbing in yourself, closing the door behind you. The van smelled of thousands of cigarettes, beer cans and cologne; while you wouldn’t call it horrible, it certainly took you by surprise every time you smelled it. You were sure the smell was strong enough to burn some hairs off your nose, not that you’d ever say anything to Eddie about it.

The car ride was silent between you two, the only sound was Eddie’s stereo playing Master of Puppets by Metallica, Eddie’s hands tapping against the steering wheel. You’d heard him play the song a thousand times since it was released, it was cute in a way.

People always saw Eddie have this tough and scary exterior but once people ripped the surface away and go deeper, they’d see that he was one of the softest and kindest people in the school. Fiercely protective and loyal to those closest to him, he’d take a bullet for them if he could.

All too soon, Eddie had parked his van outside of your house and was waiting for you to make a move. You awkwardly picked up your belongings, knowing you should say something… anything but nothing came to mind. “I’ll see you later?” You blurted out without fully thinking beforehand.

It came out more like a question than anything else, and if Eddie could hear your thoughts, he’d be bombarded with loud screaming and being told you were an idiot repeatedly. You couldn’t understand why today of all days, you couldn't act normal around him.

Just say goodbye like a normal person, you complete loser.

Eddie nodded, giving you a gentle smile, clearly not fazed by your strange reaction. “See you later, Juliet. And please don’t tell your brothers I let you smoke.”

You nodded, your insides melting at that damned smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” You nodded as you opened the door and climbed out. After closing the door, you gave him a salute before racing inside.

Once the door was closed, you instantly began banging your forehead against it repeatedly, cringing at every hit until you felt a hand on your forehead, moving your head away from the door. “If you wanted to crack your skull open, you’ll have to hit harder than that.”

You frowned, moving your head to see Stephen grinning beside you. Once you realised who it was, you instantly began punching his arm. “You were supposed to pick me up from school, asshole!”

Stephen raised his arms in defence before grabbing your fists to stop you from attacking him. “I know and I’m sorry, my alarm didn’t wake me up. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You stopped fighting, your eyes narrowing. “Make it up to me how?”

He let go of your hands. “You can have whatever you want for dinner all weekend, and Eddie Munson can take you to school and pick you up for the rest of the month.”

You thought about his offer for a moment before nodding. “You got yourself a deal, you’re lucky you get to live another day.” You held out your hand and Stephen shook it, sealing the deal.

He smiled as their hands shook before his smile dropped almost as quickly as it appeared. “Did you smoke?”

Your eyes went wide for a moment before you bolted for the stairs, Stephen hot on your heels. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down as soon as you reached the top step. “I’m gonna kill Munson!” he yelled.

“You said he could be my ride for a month! We had a deal!” You yelled back, trying to hold in your laughter as you lay on the stairs.

“That was before I knew he got you to smoke!”

You were just about to kick him in the balls to get him off, but the front door opened, revealing Jamie had come home with burgers. Stephen looked down at you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “This isn’t over, you’re grounded for the rest of the semester,” then he walked downstairs to greet his brother.

Rolling your eyes, you turned over and stood up, slowly making your way down the stairs. At first, you thought it was all a joke but hearing your brother’s voice sound so threatening made you realise that perhaps he wasn’t joking at all and maybe you were grounded after all.

Arriving in the kitchen, you grabbed your Styrofoam box of a burger and fries from the greasy bag and grabbed a Coke from the fridge before sitting down at the counter to eat.

The three of you ate in silence, until Jamie spoke up through a mouthful of fries. “How was school?”

You shrugged, finishing the rest of your burger before answering. “Same old, same old, Stephen forgot to pick me up, so Eddie brought me home.”

Stephen shook his head, clearly annoyed that you brought it up. “I didn’t forget, I overslept. Do I need to bring up how you’re grounded for the rest of the semester?”

You looked down, playing with a fry. Jamie frowned, turning to the eldest sibling. “Why’s she grounded?”

“Would you like to say why you’re grounded?” Stephen asked, you shook your head. “She’s grounded because she smoked.”

Jamie raised his eyebrow slightly, directing his next question towards you. “Was it drugs or just a cigarette?”

“Cigarette,” you almost whispered, hanging your head.

“What do you mean “just” a cigarette? She shouldn’t be smoking anything!” Stephen almost yelled.

“You were her age once! You did far worse than her! Do I need to remind you why all your girlfriends were banned from the house? Or why none of mom’s jewellery was left to us?” Jamie fired back.

“It’s because I did worse shit that I want to stop her from continuing!” Stephen towered over Jamie. “If she isn't careful, she’ll ruin her life!”

“OH MY GOD, STOP PRETENDING TO BE DAD!” You screamed, getting off your seat. “No matter how hard you put on the persona, you’ll never be him.”

Stephen moved around the counter to stand in front of you, looking like a giant compared to you. “I don’t know if you noticed, kiddo, since that deadbeat left, I have to be. My life ended the day mom died. Both of our lives did, we had to look after you.”

“So this is my fault?” You laughed bitterly. “If you didn’t want me, you should’ve just shipped me off to England when Aunt Clara fucking asked.”

His eyes narrowed, his voice getting quiet. “You know what? Maybe I should’ve. Maybe then I wouldn’t be stuck in this fucking shithole with a little brother who’s a pushover and a little sister who thinks the entire world revolves around her.”

Before another word could be said, Stephen stormed out of the house and sped away, leaving you and Jamie to stare at each other and wonder what in the world had just happened. Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you darted towards the door and shakily grabbed your coat and put it on.

“Where are you going?” Jamie asked, walking towards the door after you.

“Out.”

“You’re grounded, remember?”

“So stop me from going out then.” You waited for a few seconds before nodding your head. “I’ll be back later, I just wanna clear my head.”

Jamie pulled you in for a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re not a burden to me, okay? Stephen’s just got a lot resting on his shoulders and I know he shouldn’t take it out on you, but he just wants the best for you.”

You nodded, hugging him back before letting go. “I love you, Jamie, and I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”

Jamie brushed you off. “Nah you didn’t, don’t worry about it. I love you too and go see Eddie.”

“How did you know I’d go see Eddie?”

“I was eighteen once before, I know love when I see it.”

“I-I don’t-” you stuttered, completely taken aback by your brother’s comment.

“I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry. Now go before it gets too dark.”

You gave him a smile before walking out into the dusk. It wasn’t too far to walk to Eddie’s, but it still probably wasn’t a good idea to walk it at that hour and alone. You shivered a little and wished you’d put on tights or jeans before leaving but it was far too late for that now; you’d probably borrow a blanket from Eddie when you were there.

After almost an hour of walking, you arrived at Eddie’s trailer. With a shaky hand, you knocked on his door. As you waited, you could feel the anxiety rising within you, almost making you cry; not over seeing Eddie, but the weight of the argument and what Stephen had said had finally hit you and it hit like a tonne of bricks.

Eddie opened the door with a wide smile. “Well this is a surprise, Juliet.” His smile dropped once he noticed you were on the verge of a panic attack. “What happened? Who do I need to kill?”

You shook your head, hugging him tightly, burying your face in his chest. Eddie closed the door behind you and hugged you back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before gently scratching the top of your head, soothing you. “You're okay, nothing will hurt you here.”

Keeping your head in his chest, you breathed in the smell of cigarettes and cologne, both smells and Eddie’s words helping you calm down. Slowly, you came out of the hug. “I got into an argument with Stephen.”

Eddie nodded, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. “You get the blankets; I’ll get the beer.”

You nodded, grabbing blankets from the sofa and Eddie’s room before making your way up to the roof of the trailer, arranging the blankets to be comfortable to sit on and resting one on your lap to warm your legs up.

The pair of you always sat on the roof whenever you came over, staring up at the sky, looking at clouds and smoking during the day and looking at constellations, talking about your dreams and drinking during the night.

Eddie brought up a box of beer, passing it up to you as he finished climbing up the ladder himself. He settled next to you, getting two cans out and opening one before handing it to you and opening his own. “You wanna tell me what actually happened?”

You sighed before taking a sip of your beer, reluctantly nodding. “There isn’t much to really say. Stephen grounded me for the rest of the semester because I was smoking with you. He also basically said that I ruined both his and Jamie’s lives when our mom died, and he wished he’d sent me off to England.”

Eddie took a massive chug of his beer, clearly trying to contain his anger. “Your brother is an asshole, I’m sorry but he is. If he doesn’t apologize for saying what he said and ungrounding you, I’ll get my uncle to beat his ass.”

You shook your head, taking a long drink. “Don’t worry about it, Jamie has my back.”

“The offer’s always open, Juliet.”

You smiled at each other as you both fell silent, drinking your beers and staring up at the stars, the silence of the trailer park occasionally broken by a couple arguing or a dog barking. To you, it was nothing short of heaven to be under the stars with Eddie and dreaming of being away from home.

“Let’s get out of here.” Eddie said, breaking the silence.

You looked at him before looking at your watch. “The diner should still be open.”

“I was thinking more somewhere overseas.”

“So my brother shouts at me, I should flee the country?”

“This place is a dead end; we’ve been saying it for years.”

“So what’re we gonna do about it?”

He shrugged slightly. “You know I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go.”

You downed the rest of your beer. “What if I wanna go to Antarctica?”

He laughed, shaking his head slightly as he opened another beer for you, handing it to you. “In that case, Juliet, I’d better get my winter coat.”

You took the beer from him and took a sip. “Did you mean it? When you said you’d take Chrissy to prom?” You asked quietly.

Realising your change in demeanour, Eddie stroked your cheek with his thumb. “There’s only one girl I’d take to prom, and it’ll never be Chrissy Cunningham.”

With watery eyes, you looked at him. “Who’s that?”

Eddie smiled gently, leaning into you, as if he was about to kiss you but he stopped just before you lips, his forehead resting against yours as his dark eyes bore into yours. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over your lips to stop you before continuing. “And since I do wanna take you to prom, there’s one very important question I must ask you. Y/N, my Juliet, may I take you out on a date tomorrow night?”

A tear fell down your cheek as you smiled, taking a few seconds to answer. “Edward Munson, my Romeo, you may take me out on a date tomorrow.”

#spilled ink #who wants to live forever #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie #vampire!eddie x reader

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so-much-for-stardust6 · 7 months ago

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You’re My True Love- Damon Albarn

summary: your best friend damon confesses to you out of nowhere to which you sort of panic about. after not speaking for weeks, you finally realize how you truly feel about him.

lowercase intended

warnings: none (at least i don’t think)

a/n: i’ve had this idea sitting in my notes app but now i’ve finally written it 🙏 once again i wrote this at 3am and proof read it at 5am so pls bare with me

damon albarn. a very unforgettable name. the name of my best friend. we’ve been best friends since high school and life has only brought us closer. our love for music is what bonded us in the first place, so it makes sense that he’d start his own band named blur. i’ve been his number one supporter since day one. we’re like two peas in a pod. but maybe damon wanted to be more. i finished the last touches to my outfit, smiling at myself in the mirror when i decided i looked good. damon asked to hang out today, saying he needed to tell me something. i figure it’s about his band like how his usual news would be. i grab my keys and head out my door, making sure it’s locked before leaving my apartment building. getting into my crappy old car and driving to the meeting spot felt like a blur (no pun intended) since i arrived quickly.

i see damon’s figure sitting at a table outside this cafe we always go to, sipping what i assume is tea. i get out my car, quietly walking up behind him to surprise him. i place my hands over his eyes, causing him to jump at the sudden touch.

“hey you.” i say.

“hello, y/n. figured that was you.” he chuckled, turning his head to look at me.

“ordered already?” i ask while sitting down across from him.

“just this tea, i’m waiting for you.”

“such a gentleman.” i giggle.

i pick up the menu and scan the lunch options, finally landing on getting a simple blt.

“so anything new with the band? is that what you called me here for?”

“uh, not exactly.” he awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

i raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“did something bad happen? are you okay?”

“yes, i’m okay. it’s nothing bad. well, it just depends on how you feel about it.”

“oh come on dames, spit it out already. can’t keep a girl waiting.” i joke.

“i’m in love with you.”

my smile immediately falls and i sit there process his words. in love with me? he stared back at me, thinking on how he wants to bash his head in at his confession that he knew he should’ve kept secret.

“y/n…?” he whispers, trying to catch my attention.

i was zoned out at this point, trying to look back at memories of us and assume when his love for me started.

“you’re in love with me?”

“yeah, i am. i-i’m sorry, i know it’s weird for me to feel this way but i can’t help it. you just complete me perfectly.”

i stay silent again, still dissecting his words. i lightly tremble at his words, not knowing how to react.

“i have a boyfriend, damon.”

“that’s exactly why i didn’t want to confess. but my love for you has grown so much recently and i needed to tell you before we leave for tour.”

“stop saying that word.”

“what word?”

“love.”

a look of heartbreak flashed across his face, sitting back in his seat to look at me.

“i-i gotta go. i can’t do this right now.” i suddenly spoke up.

i was quick to scoot out my chair and book it to my car, leaving a hollering damon behind. i heard him call out my name but i ignored him. i shakily opened my car door, stumbling inside. i even dropped my eyes onto the floor as i tried to start the car, my nerves at an all time high. i sped out the parking lot and on my way back home, leaving my seatbelt off. i don’t even know why i did that, i regret doing that. it was all just so sudden, he didn’t even sugarcoat it. my best friend is in love with me. what the fuck?

it’s been a few weeks since the whole scene happened. i’ve tried to ring damon and apologize but he never picked up. i even tried stopping by his place but he was never home when i came. it was 5pm as i sat in my apartment’s kitchen, sipping my tea while reading some book my cousin suggested to me. i was paying no attention to the man i called my boyfriend who was causing a ruckus. he came over to go out but i informed him that i’d rather stay in, something he was against. after trying to convince me to go out and me saying ‘no’ every time, he finally gave in and stayed in with me. but with him being the type of guy to pick out every flaw he saw, he ran around my apartment and rearranged things. he claimed his “interior designer” side was coming out.

i was quite annoyed to say the least, just wanting to relax today but now dealing with an idiot ruining my decor. i don’t understand why i was putting up with him anyways, i could easily kick him out. suddenly, the phone rang which caused me to jump and slightly choke on my tea. i coughed as i head towards the phone, hoping to beat my boyfriend in grabbing it.

“hello?” i speak out, voice cracking a bit.

“hey y/n, it’s me graham.”

“oh hello! what’s up?”

“who’s that?” my boyfriend comes storming into the living room.

“my friend.” i whisper, covering the microphone.

“which friend?”

“can you go away, i’m trying to have a conversation.” becoming annoyed with him very quickly.

“hello?”

“yeah, sorry, i’m here. what’s going on?”

“i just wanted to let you know that we leave for tour tonight around 1. i know that you and damon haven’t spoken in a couple weeks but maybe you’d want to see him?”

“i don’t know gra, i don’t think he wants to see me. i feel so guilty on how i reacted, i just didn’t know how to take in the new information i got.”

“i understand, y/n. think it over, okay? the van picking us up is gonna stop at my place last, if you wanna stop by.”

“i’ll think about it. thank you, graham. i really appreciate it.”

“of course, y/n. bye bye.”

“bye.” i hang up the phone.

“graham? is that a guy?”

“can you just stop? he’s a FRIEND. nothing more.” i walk past him to go sit back down.

“that’s what they all say.”

“well maybe try to think that i’m not like everyone else.” i sip my tea.

he says something back but i’ve already tuned him out. after 30 minutes or so of him ranting on about whatever, he finally left. i let out a breath of relief, the reason for my headache gone. i stand up and head towards my room to get ready for a shower. i pick out some random bedtime clothes to wear, my eyes landing on one of damon’s shirt. it was a summer night and we decided to go to this lake for a nice swim. it wasn’t so nice when my swimsuit top got lost in the water somehow. so being the gentleman he is, damon lended me his shirt and i guess i just never gave it back. the smile i wore on my face was a sad one, the thought of damon and i’s friendship being ruined all because of my stupidity.

i shake away those thoughts and go shower, something i desperately need. afterwards, i decided a nice relaxing movie night with wine would finish this night off perfectly. i plopped the vhs in and sat on the couch with a glass of wine. my mind kept thinking back to moments where i watched the movie with damon, laughing loudly at the scenes. my heart ached as i kept thinking of damon. i was able to finish the movie and wine, deciding to call it an early night. after shutting the tv and lights off and locking all the windows and door, i settled down in bed. it didn’t take long for me to snooze off. suddenly, i woke up on a familiar couch in a familiar place.

“good morning, sleepyhead.” damon’s voice rang out.

“damon? how’d i get here?”

“what do you mean? you stayed the night, silly.” he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“b-but i was in my own room?”

“thinking about me again, huh?” he smirked his infamous smirk.

“how’d you know?”

“cause this is a dream. and i’m obviously in your head, so i can see what you think of. why are you thinking so much of me? you were the one who ran off that day.” he leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

“i-i don’t know..”

“that’s not a real answer. look deep inside your heart, y/n/n.”

“well, i feel guilty. i feel guilty for leaving you alone. i don’t know why i did it.”

“you clearly do.”

“i do?”

“what do you keep thinking of.”

“old memories.”

“and how do they make you feel?”

“fuzzy inside. they make me smile when i see you smile. it makes me want to see you smile again.”

“what else, love?”

“oh don’t call me that, you know how it makes me feel.”

“and describe how it makes you feel.” his words guiding me.

“it makes me feel all giddy inside. my stomach goes crazy with butterflies. like i like it. actually, i love it.”

“what else do you love?”

“you.” i blurt out.

my eyes widen at the realization. it all makes sense, the sudden thoughts of him and the stomach flips.

“i’m in love with you too, damon.” i look up at him.

“don’t tell me that. go tell real damon that, silly.” he chuckled, sipping his coffee.

“shit! they leave tonight, i gotta wake up.”

and so i did, my eyes shooting open. i quickly sat up in bed, turning my head to look at the clock that read 12:37am.

“shit!”

i stumble out of bed, struggling to find socks to put on. i didn’t care about my pajamas, i just needed to see him. i slip on my shoes and ran towards the door. but i made a quick pit stop by my phone.

“hello?” my boyfriends voice rang out on the other side.

“hey, it’s me. i just wanted to call real quick to say that i’m breaking up with you. it isn’t working out and i don’t see us progressing in the future. i gotta go but i’m very sorry.” i then hung up before he could even speak. i ran up to my door, making sure to grab my keys on the little table next to it. the sound of my phone ringing made me grimace, sorry but i cannot answer.

i ran down to my car, speeding off again with no seatbelt. my brain struggled as i tried to remember graham’s address, i’ve only been a couple times. i finally reach a familiar street and see his house. a breath of relief left my mouth as i saw a van still parked outside. i parked very crappy but i didn’t care. i rush out my car, looking both ways before running across the street.

“alex! alex!” i call out to the bassist.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i need to see damon.”

“uh, he’s inside with graham. wha-“

“great thank you!” i cut him off.

i didn’t hesitate to run inside, seeing suitcases at the door. two voices echoed from upstairs, assuming that they’re damon and graham.

i run upstairs, all the running causing me to be out of breath. i make it to graham’s room where they’re both at. they don’t notice me standing in the doorway as they spoke.

“so, i told y/n to come tonight.”

“what? why?”

“you guys need to talk.”

“she doesn’t want to talk to me. she hates me because i’m in love with her. she’ll continue to hate me cause i can’t change how i feel about her.”

“she said she tried calling you, mate.”

“i-i felt embarrassed to talk to her again. hearing her voice again would do things to me and if she hates me then it’d make things worse.”

“i don’t hate you.” i spoke up.

the two boys whip their heads to look at me.

“y/n..”

“damon i’m so sorry. i-i don’t know why i left that day. it was just so sudden and my brain couldn’t comprehend that you feel that way towards me.”

“i’m gonna go.” graham quietly said, fast walking out of the room.

“why did you walk off?” his voice laced with sadness.

“it was too much. which isn’t a valid answer but i honestly don’t know.”

“is your view of me different now? i-is our friendship ruined?”

“what? absolutely not dames, you’ll forever be my best friend.”

“only your best friend?”

i try to find the right words to confess to him, my brain running empty.

“i’m in love with you too.” i blurt out just like how he did.

“w-what?”

“i kept thinking about you after our last encounter and it’s weird to say but i had a dream that made me realize that i love you. our memories make me all happy to think of you, be around you. you make me all fuzzy inside when you do things. and no one could make me feel that way, only you can. you’re my true love, damon. and i’m sorry i didn’t realize when you told me but i-“ i was cut off by damon’s lips.

i was caught off guard, standing there in shock as he held my face. slowly my lips started moving with his and my hands held his face. that fuzzy feeling covered my entire body, i was entirely numb and his touch felt like fire to me.

he pulled away, fast breathing coming out his parted spit covered lips.

“come on tour with me.”

“what?”

“come on tour with me. i want you with me all the time.”

“damon, i’m not really packed for that.”

“so? i’ll buy you clothes and everything else you need. just please, please come with me.” he begs.

he lets go of my face to grab onto my hands, thumb stroking the top of my hands. i thought about it long and hard. not a single ounce of regret crossed my mind.

“okay. i’ll come with you.”

“really?” he smiled brightly.

“yes, really.” i smile back.

“i love you so much.” he leans back in for a kiss i definitely wouldn’t decline.

“hurry up damon! we gotta leave, mate!” dave yelled from downstairs.

“guess we gotta get going.” i say as i pull away.

he grabs a suitcase off the floor and grabs onto my hand. he leads us down the stairs and out graham’s house.

“y/n is coming with us and there is going to be no argument about it.” damon announces.

“she better do some type of work.” dave said.

“i’ll deal with unloading your shit, okay?”

“deal. welcome to the tour life.” he points to the bus.

“oh my, very fancy.” i giggle.

i help damon pack his stuff into the back of the van. we shove ourselves inside the van, cuddling up as it was quite chilly outside.

“i’ll have to ring my sister to come get my car.”

“how would she get in?”

“i left my keys under a plant pot on gra’s porch.”

“well aren’t you smart.” he pokes my cheek.

“very.” i give him a cheeky smile.

i turn my attention to the window, watching as houses fly by. damon rested his head on my shoulder, falling asleep already. i smile to myself at this sudden change in my life. it may be sudden but it’s definitely not bad.

#damon albarn #damon albarn smut #blur #blur band #graham coxon #graham coxon smut #alex james #alex james smut #dave rowntree #dave rowntree smut #90s #90s smut #90s britpop #britpop

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