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hazelfoureyes · 11 months ago

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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

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glossdebut · 2 months ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork.

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too.

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress.

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough.

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses.

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way.

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them.

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion.

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him.

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once.

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up.

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case.

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter.

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile.

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp.

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems.

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi.

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast.

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway.

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong.

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know.

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him.

It’s not like it’s a lie.

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm.

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

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antimonyandthyme · 3 months ago

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1.2k, carcar, late night condom run

“This is—”

He means to say humiliating. Exceedingly mortifying. They’re both wearing obnoxious baseball caps, as if that’ll serve as sufficient disguises. Carlos is sporting a shit-eating grin, and the night air has turned his cheeks pink, obvious even under the brim of his cap.

This is. Actually the most fun he’s had in awhile.

It’s unlike him to be helpless in the face of Carlos’s obvious glee. But it’s late, and both their shields are a little flimsy.

He trails slightly behind, watching the way even Carlos’s feet seem giddy. The stupidest thought crosses his mind: I don’t see you this happy on Sundays, isn’t that something, and it takes all of his willpower to force the words back down his throat.

“This is, what? Come on, Oscar.” He doesn’t like it when Carlos’s voice dips like that, turns teasing. Turns him all warm. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone on a midnight condom run.”

“Not in Monaco,” Oscar says.

He only realizes Carlos has stopped when he bumps his nose into something. Presumably Carlos’s back. Reluctantly, Oscar looks up from Carlos’s feet. Carlos is wearing a soft, amused expression.

Oh. He might have just insinuated he hasn’t gone out for condoms in Monaco. Which in turns insinuates he hasn’t been having sex since he got here. Which in turn insinuates that he’s only been seeing–

Oscar tugs his cap down, opens his mouth to stutter out some excuse.

“All stocked up, eh?”

“Shut up,” Oscar mutters, cheeks flaming.

Carlos laughs. Actually throws his head back and full-body laughs at Oscar’s expense. Unbelievable. This guy. A menace. Oscar kinda hates him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes, rookie.”

“Stop flattering yourself.”

Carlos jabs a finger into Oscar’s bicep. “It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he says. His feet are back to dancing. His eyes are crinkled into half-moon shapes. Oscar tries and fails to level the squeeze in his chest.

Thing is, Carlos isn’t wrong. Sex with Carlos has been. Well.

They’re both sporting the most inconvenient of erections, barely hidden behind the thickest pairs of sweatpants Oscar could find. Carlos had wrinkled his nose at Oscar’s choice of clothes. Oscar had raised an eyebrow, like You wanna wear jeans with that boner? And Carlos had caved, albeit with patented-Carlos-grumbling.

Making out like they were competing to steal each others’ air, hands grabbing, tugging, touching. Separating only when Oscar had realized his apartment was out of the essentials. Throwing on clothes while painfully hard, stealing their way to a drugstore with a cashier who hopefully wouldn’t recognize them and put two and two together.

Kinda crazy, doing that last bit. Kinda crazy, doing it with Carlos.

Carlos strolls into the store like he doesn’t know the meaning of shame. Stalks right down to the aisle of condoms.

“Wait,” Oscar hisses, dragging Carlos back by the elbow. “Could we make it less obvious?”

“What?” Carlos says. Mouth half-open, head tilted like he can’t figure Oscar out. Oscar’s come to realize he’s on the receiving end of that look from Carlos too many times to be safe. “Make what less obvious?”

“Oh my god,” Oscar says. Not a single thought between the man’s brown, brown eyes.

He yanks Carlos into a random aisle, throws two random packages of band-aids into a basket. Then two bottles of kid’s gummy multivitamins sitting on the next shelf. Whatever. They’re pretty tasty, so they won’t be going to waste. Some safety razors. Some coconut oil.

“Oh,” Carlos says, “oh, less obvious with the condoms, I get it now.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“You know they’ll still scan the items right?”

“Here,” Oscar says flatly. “I’m getting this for Pinon.”

It’s a pink donut chew toy, complete with raised sprinkles for effect. Dog toys for aggressive chewers! the tag says. Oscar has no idea whether Pinon likes chewing or not. He’s not about to start caring.

Carlos, for once, isn’t arguing. He’s got another one of those weird looks he’s directing at Oscar, one of those that turns Oscar’s stomach inside out.

“How do you know his name?”

It’s Oscar’s turn to be confused. “What,” he says. “Don’t you like, talk about him all the time?”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “You’re mixing me up with Charles.”

Impossible, Oscar manages not to say.

“I rarely talk about him,” Carlos says. There’s a hint of a smile, curving his lips up. “Very, very rarely.”

“Well,” Oscar says, floundering. Carlos and his stupid, stupid eyelashes. “You must have, on Instagram or something–”

Ah. Shit.

Carlos grins. Blinding, too bright for Oscar to face head on. In the middle of the entire store, he runs his knuckles under Oscar’s jaw. He’s got Oscar right where he wants him. A menace. Oscar doesn’t know how he goes about acting like that. Sucking up all the space in the room while being unaware of how he turns heads. Unashamedly buying condoms in the middle of the night in Monaco with Oscar as if it were something he would do any day. A menace, three times over.

Carlos looks down at their basket, now half full.

“The cashier is going to think we have very kinky sex.”

“Oh my god.”

“Coconut oil, really? An aggressive chew toy? You could have just told me if you wanted to be gagged–”

“Shut up,” Oscar squawks, even as the idea lodges itself somewhere underneath Oscar’s rib like a bullet, “shut up you idiot–”

A laugh sneaks out of Carlos’s dumb mouth, where it sees fit to expand itself until Oscar’s laughing too. Unacceptable. Oscar curls an arm around his belly, protectively. Carlos is slapping his knees. It’s not even that funny. It’s Carlos’s fault Oscar’s wheezing so hard he can barely breathe.

“Now,” Carlos gasps, “can we finally get what we came for?”

“Fine,” Oscar says. He reaches for the box, nestles it carefully in the middle of the basket. Looks almost natural. “Now no one will suspect a thing, see?”

“You’re very bothered, for someone so unbothered,” Carlos says.

Oscar’s knee jerk reaction is to deny it. How many layers will Carlos peel off him tonight? It feels too much like losing, only that Carlos isn’t gloating, already trotting off with their mishmash basket of goodies without a care in the world. Carlos leans over the counter, says something that makes the cashier laugh, tilts his body and jabs his thumb over his shoulder in Oscar’s direction in the universal gesture of I’m talking about this guy in a way that makes it clear I want everyone, him included, to know I’m talking about him.

“Don’t believe anything he says about the chew toy,” Oscar says faintly.

Carlos laughs. The cashier laughs. Oscar manages something high-pitched that might pass off as a laugh.

They refuse to pay for a plastic bag and Carlos makes Oscar shove the box of condoms down one pocket, the rest of the shit in the other, while he skips off with the donut and bottle of coconut oil.

Classic Carlos.

Their shoulders bump, on their way back. Every step scrapes the edge of the pocketed box against Oscar’s inner thigh, right near his now soft dick. It doesn’t matter. Just the thought of Carlos’s warm hands around him is enough to get him going again.

Carlos tips his head toward Oscar, boyish grin making him look all of twenty. He squishes the toy in Oscar's face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

If he were a little braver: I’m bothered because I know what I’m signing up for. The space between races will hit me with a separation anxiety I’m probably not equipped to deal with, and I’ll learn the names of not just your dog, but your family’s, and I’ll start looking at my phone with a goofy smile and have everyone around me question it because they'll know, they'll just know, and I’ll have to learn how to lie better, and pretend better, all because I’m into you.

Oscar takes a breath. Exhales for long enough that all the words escape him.

“Wasn’t so bad,” he says.

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #carcar

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parfaitblogs · 7 months ago

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waiting room ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he breaks up with you, and your life slowly falls apart. so obviously you should see him?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: implied alcohol reliance? lots of nothing happening not even a gun to my head could get me to write action... do not read if emotionally stable because i sure wasn't when i wrote this. word count: 1.9k a/n: i never write in second person so if there's a cheeky she her they them somewhere in this ignore it!!! i do not know what i am doing!!! probably not proofread enough. also no happy ending i hate those let the people cry i say! i haven't posted my writing in like three years be nice...

also posted here on my ao3 !

"Hey."

"Hi."

Awkward silence. Horribly awkward silence.

Your eyes darting around a bar that you found all too familiar, with decor that you could paint on a canvas with your eyes closed, and such a distinct smell that you could imagine it from miles away. You didn't think you'd ever forget the way the air moved in this bar, or the sound of the same three bands singing every Friday night on repeat. You knew all the words to their songs by now. And the bartender knew your name, embarrassingly so.

And even over the sound of patrons talking, and the clinking of glasses and every other overwhelming sound that drove you crazy, you felt like you could hear your heartbeat slamming against your chest. Your lips chapped, never wetting no matter how many times you produced the saliva in your otherwise dry mouth to lick them. Hands wrapped around an ice cold glass that did nothing but numb some part of your body, to accompany the numb feeling in your chest.

You looked better than you felt, but he was knocking both parts of you out of the park. Maybe that's why your mouth was so dry. You'd tell yourself that it is, at least. He's too attractive to talk to. But you could talk to him. You did talk to him. All the time. About everything, and nothing. Because that's what you two did.

And yet; the awkward silence.

He cleared his throat, and it prompted you to take a sip of your drink, mixed alcohol falling down your throat and leaving a burn that shouldn't comfort you, but did. You didn't pull a face at the taste of it the way you used to, and you found yourself wishing that part of you that you despised was back.

Maybe he would tease you for it again.

"How's work?"

The words felt foreign on your lips. It wasn't really what you wanted to ask him, but every inquiry you had died on your tongue before you could ask them, nothing feeling good enough.

"It's good," he answered, eyes studying you in a way that made you want to shrink into nothingness.

"That's good," you said, and you saw the small twitch of his lips — brief, before they fell back into their natural downturned shape.

It was almost comical how much silence sat between you two. Two people who would talk until people around them were groaning and regretting asking them a question, falling silent in the presence of one another.

He cleared his throat again. Maybe you should offer him some water, but then you realised this wasn't your house and he was fully capable of getting his own water. And everything else in the world.

"How's work for you?"

"It's good," you answered, half-heartedly, because you really didn't know. You hadn't been in months.

You didn't really realise a breakup would affect you this much. You had always been good. Good at putting emotional turmoil on pause for your busy life. You never considered the possibility of putting your busy life on pause for emotional turmoil.

But then Spencer Reid left you. You never considered the possibility of that happening either, until it did.

"Is it?" he asked, and you watched his body shift slightly in his seat, almost leaning closer to you.

And unfortunately, you can only pretend in front of the man across from you for so long. "No," you said.

"Why not?"

"I'm not going." Your voice was embarrassingly quiet, but you knew he heard you, because his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and his lips parted for a second. It made you want to take the words back; to lie again. "I got laid off a week ago."

He slowly nodded his head in recognition — that would explain your sudden request to meet. "I'm sorry."

You could imagine a million things you knew he'd be saying the words for, but not one part of you really believed it for any of them. So you only nodded your head, gaze dropping from him to the glass in front of you, the paper straw disintegrating in the liquid — something you weren't used to; you would finish drinks too quickly for that to happen.

You didn't come here to mope. You do that every other Friday night. You didn't need to do that tonight, when the man you were spending your nights sobbing and your mornings numb over was right there with you.

"How's your mom?" you ask instead, lifting your head back up, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"She's okay. Same as usual," he said, and you nodded your head. Short answers seemed to be the only thing you guys knew how to do. "How's yours?"

"Good," you answer, because the question doesn't really have the same weight as it did when you asked him; he only did it to be courteous. "She misses having you over."

That brought a small smile to his face. "I miss being over."

You can come back, you want to say, but you know that isn't true.

You don't know how much longer you two sit in silence before he breaks it with a sigh that, if you didn't know better, you'd think was irritated. But it wasn't; simply exhausted.

"Why did you want to meet me?" he finally asked, and your lips parted, before shutting again, because you're not too sure the answer is something you're allowed to say aloud.

You say it anyway.

"I missed you."

You watched his facial features soften, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and that only seemed to bring more nervous energy to you.

"You shouldn't," he said, and if your heart had anything left for him, it probably would have cracked again.

You knew that you shouldn't. You had told yourself to get over it a thousand times before. Your go-to mantra was grow up. But you couldn't. Your brain wouldn't let it go and your eyes could just never stay dry for long enough to think it's finally over. It was almost pathetic.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding your head, slowly, and you were pretty sure tears were welling in your eyes, which felt even more pathetic in front of him.

"I'm sorry."

This time it was you to apologise, and you knew he didn't believe your apology either. Not when you didn't even know what you were apologising for. Missing him, meeting him here, ever even dating him in the first place.

"It's okay," he said, instead, and you watched him exhale shakily, his lips rubbing against each other — usually a telltale sign he didn't want to be wherever he was any longer. That broke your heart too.

Words died in your throat as you abruptly stood up, the stool you were perched atop wobbling slightly with your sudden movements.

You stared at him for another moment, committing his face to memory, before you nodded your head to him in acknowledgement, pocketing your phone. You forced a smile, and left.

Maybe not the best move you've ever done in your life. Not the move you wanted to do. But certainly the smartest.

Because the second the cool, early fall air hit your skin, so did your tears, and you found that even ordering an Uber was difficult through blurry vision. So you decided to walk. Walk where, you didn't know. Away from the bar. Through the people-filled square; people as drunk as you wished to be, people out with friends and partner's, to have fun. People having a much better night than you, clearly.

You heard your name. And something in you screamed to not turn around, to not give in to the caller. Probably the logical part of your brain. But your heart ignored it, and you halted in your tracks, turning to see him walking towards you, eyebrows furrowed in so much concern you think you'd crack further than you already have. Maybe if you split yourself down the middle it would finally stop hurting.

"I miss you too."

Four simple words that could be heard even over the mixed songs playing from the clubs around you, even over the beeping cars and the chattering people.

"Please don't lie to make me feel better," you croak, and you're acutely aware of the tears on your cheeks.

"I'm not lying," he breathed out, and you were far enough away from his body to see his hand twitch. For whatever reason you didn't know. "Sweetheart, you're breaking my heart, here."

Oh.

You swallowed down a sob, swiping another set of falling tears before they could get too far down your cheeks.

"Spencer, please," you said, so desperately that you wanted to shoot yourself. "I shouldn't have asked you to meet."

"No, you shouldn't have," he agreed, and your heart stuttered in your chest, because he was telling you things you shouldn't do. Again. "Not that I—" he cut himself off with a sigh; frustrated, this time. "Not that I didn't want to see you, because I did. You're the only person I want to see recently. But I was getting better, and I know I've ruined all that by being here with you tonight."

I was getting better. The words echoed over and over in your brain. If he was just as bad as you were, maybe it would make this easier. Maybe you aren't as pathetic.

"I hate this," you settled on, fidgeting awkwardly with your fingers.

He didn't respond for a few too many moments, and it had you wanting to take back your words. He rubbed his eyes with another sigh.

"I'm not going back on my decision," he said, and you didn't need to ask what decision; you had an idea, and your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

But you did anyways. "Which decision?"

"Breaking up with you."

You were silent for a few moments too. "I'm not asking you to—"

"—No, but you want me to," he cuts you off. "And I'm telling you I won't. You know why I did it. That trumps whatever feelings I have for you."

Have.

"I don't know why," you said, shakily. You did. He gave you a reason, and if you had to explain the breakup to someone, you could tell them why. But the ongoing conflict in your brain confused you anyways.

"Yes you do," he answered, his jaw tensing. When you shook your head, and went to respond, he cut you off, stepping closer. "I can afford to lose you. I can't afford for the world to."

He had said something similar the day he left. Something about a fear of you dying. Something you had tried to reassure him of, failing to do so clearly.

"What about me?" your voice cracked and you cursed it.

"It will get better."

You could've cried all over again, in the middle of the square. Everything always for the better. Never for the right now, for the things you both wanted. But for the everlasting fear Spencer had in his brain, that you didn't know how to help.

"Apparently," you replied, sniffling as you took a step away from him. "I think I should go."

If he wanted to protest, he didn't show it. He simply nodded his head, lips parting in a silent exhale.

And so you did, with wet cheeks, and a quiet, "Goodbye, Spencer."

loml (part 2) ♡

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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o-sachi · 3 months ago

Text

Blue Lock Filo! AU Headcanons

𖤓 feat. isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, barou, nagi, reo, sae, rin, karasu, otoya, hiori, shidou, oliver, yukimiya 𖤓 tags: college au, filo au, crack (kinda), sfw, written in Taglish because ???, not proofread lel

note: I'm sorry if your uni isn't here. My knowledge of universities in the country is limited to the big 4 and some others that participate in uaap sobbb

note 2: Send me your own hcs too plspls

note 3: filo moots sana magkaron haha what if

Isagi

He goes to UST and will correct you (nicely) about how to pronounce "Thomasian"

Goes to church with his family every Sunday without failure

He's close with his extended family too, especially the grandparents.

Golden child. Siya yung bata na example ng nanay mo na dapat gayahin mo raw.

A fan of indie Pinoy bands and watches indie Pinoy films.

Cup of Joe fan lol

Too shy to ask anyone out for the Christmas event sa UST (sorry limot ko na ano tawag).

Is in UST, but probably not taking up medicine. Parents were supportive of it though.

Mabilis mag-reply. He uses the 👍 and 😊 unironically

Friends with a lot of questionable/cancelable guys, but he's still genuinely the nice one among them

When he visits a friend's house, he's always chatting up their parents and helping around the house without being asked

Generic sinigang enjoyer :shrug:

Pretty much an average guy. Though he is definitely nicer than most. It shocks you.

(Sorry wala na ko maisip pero basta green flag siya).

Bachira

Goes to UP Diliman for fine arts

A manic pixie dream boy that girls gush about when they see him hanging out at the sunken gardens

Knows all the brainrot and even the Pinoy brainrot

Does the "Ha? Halaman" and says "Sinong nagtanong?"

Loves Jollibee because it's cheap and it tastes good

Spaghetti and Jollihotdog enjoyer

Social anxiety fears him. He'll do mostly everything you ask him for 20 pesos (sometimes for free)

Celebrated his 4th birthday at Jollibee and has a picture with the mascot lol

Bardagulan enjoyer

Has been casted in plays before and is genuinely good at acting

See him running in campus because he's always late to class

Puts too many songs in the karaoke but never finishes the songs because he gets bored halfway through

Runs a FB meme page...

Actually dresses nicely. Hindi mukhang pakboi

Not afraid sumabit sa jeep. Either sa tabi siya ni manong or sabit

Chigiri

Went to some fancy all boys like Brent, then is now in Ateneo

Could be studying business ??

Not conyo. Just straight up English with a really good accent

imessage lang daw mode of communication niya

Always wearing a button up, khaki pants, and loafers na Sperry or sandals from Birkenstock

Was featured in a commercial when he was younger

His mom was very active in the PTA. Their family was often the topic of chismis because yk maraming inggit sa paligid.

Does not listen to OPM or watch Filipino movies because 'corny' daw 'yun

Mabagal mag-reply since he's always busy doing something

Calls people 'baduy' or 'jologs' or 'jejemon' because he can

MATARAY SI ATE KO

Will never catch him on a dating app because, again, it's so baduy daw

Kunigami

I dunno but... UP Baguio vibes siya lol

Will always always always post on his story of him running along the campus

May post palagi ng gym progress at Strava stats niya

People think he's thirst trapping, but really, he's not

Also very close with family and they celebrate all holidays together no matter what

Karinderya food enjoyer (same)

Loves anything na lutong bahay tbh. He's not picky with food.

Mabagal din mag-reply pero that's because he's not chronically online

Does not get internet memes or references. Lolo po siya.

A really good kuya! The type to intimidate his sisters' boyfriends if they ever come to visit their house.

Probably also plays basketball too. They used to live near a gym/ring. He played a lot with the neighborhood kids.

Watches NBA and Manny's boxing matches

Shot puno. Red Horse. San Mig.

Pag nalasing nag-dadrama tapos kakanta ng malungkot na song sa karaoke

Laging naka sando LOL

Barou

UP DILIMAN TOO AND STUDYING ARCHITECTURE

Makes insanely good plates

Laging napapagalitan ni lola kasi nakasimangot palagi

Lola's boy by the way

Gets insane road rage because of the god awful traffic

"Putangina traffic na naman." / "Parang gago 'to mag-drive." / "Sige. Singit pa, hayop ka." (sa naka-motor)

Fan siya ng F1

Malutong magmura lmfaooo

Also a gym bro but doesn't care about sharing it on social media

Barely any social media presence

Tutors his younger siblings

Isn't ashamed of taking food from parties, stuffing it in a tupperware, and heading his merry way home

Argues with people on FB because he can

"Anong sinasabi mo. Bobo ka ba?"

Term of endearment niya ay "Tanga"

Nagi

Parents always get mad at him kasi nga tamad.

Also because he was a picky eater as a child. Would rather starve than eat that one ampalaya dish (was always served at his household which pissed him off)

Wanted to go to the same university as Reo but Ateneo is too serious for him. So he went with sports science in NU

They make sure to meet up still

Always misses his stops because he falls asleep or zones out

He's the guy in class who always has his airpods on no matter what

Hoodie, baggy pants, dunks

Mahilig umutang, pa-unti unti, pero madalas nalilimutan

"Ah. May utang ako? Sorry, nalimutan ko siguro."

COD player na palaging may battle pass no matter what. Nainis siya isang beses kasi sinabihan siya ng PC MASTER RACE. Eh cellphone gamer lang siya

Obviously, he had his ML phase

Trashtalker siguro. "Tulog ka na. Bata," type shi

Teachers always forced him to join the events in the sports fest

Reo

Siyempre, Ateneo 'yan. Management Engineering pa. 'Di niyo kinayaaaa

CONYO 'YAN FOR SURE

He's in a bunch of orgs and stuff because he's a social butterfly like that

May nanay na judgmental sa ibang pamilya lmfao

Was in one of those interviews on campus asking students about their daily baon

"Ah. Isn't 1k a day normal? It's kulang pa nga eh since I live sa condo."

Ayun. Nakatira sa condo pala.

Goes golfing with his dad and posts his swing on IG stories

Crypto bro. Shares his crypto stats(?) sa IG stories

Humble bragger kahit saan. Personal or on social media

Same porma with Chigiri pero mas madalas naka-polo shirt siya

Ralph Lauren and Lacoste boy

Laging VIP seats sa concerts. May napila sa SM tickets para sa kanya

Lowkey a D-list or C-list celebrity

Friends with Filo actors and actresses

Sae

Also Ateneo (Sorry ang daming Ateneo. Alam ko. Pero those are the vibes eh.)

Definitely went for medicine and is planning to study even more sa foreign country

The golden boy of their clan. Always receives the most praise and pasalubong from relatives

He hates hearing the "Ang laki mo na!" greeting

Never engaged in the pagmamano and saying of "po" and "opo"

SURPRISINGLY, he enjoys the dirty ice cream they sell on a cone (it's not actually dirty btw, it's what we call ice cream sold by carts on the street. it's edible dw)

Possibly a frat boy

Gets so many message requests on messenger and insta but he ignores them all

Strava enthusiast din

You'll see him running in all of the best gear

Not conyo. He actually speaks mostly Tagalog but there's that slight 'maarte' accent there

Hates being called 'rich kid' kesyo baduy din daw LMAO

They have a driver, so many yayas, a gardener... ay basta kumpleto staff nila

Ayaw nung staff sa kanya kasi suplado

Drives a BMW

Rin

Went to La Salle and got into LeapMed just to spite his older brother and prove to them that he is better

Relatives always compare them

Even though they're rich, he probably got a lot of hand-me-downs from kuya, which pissed him off SO MUCH

Not a fan of Filipino movies, but he likes the horror movies. He says some of them are really well-crafted and gives a good scare sometimes

Unlike Sae, Rin likes homemade food. I see him liking Menudo lol (I mean, who doesn't?)

Refuses to commute. He's driving or he's being driven. No buts.

Mas gusto siya ng staff sa bahay nila lol

He grew up with a specific yaya. They're actually still close now. He's closer to her than his parents.

The conyo one. Mahilig mag-mura pero exclusively English 'yan.

Takes the longest to reply kaya 'yan walang ka-talking stage lol

100% has beef with the younger members of his extended family. He has that annoying cousin that he tripped once because why not

He hates family reunions, of course

Karasu

UPLB. Fo sho.

Chemical engineering definitely.

Halimaw yarnnn (heart eyes heart eyes)

Bro pulls up to class in a shirt, basketball shorts, and flip flops

Not a fan of the nightlife there, but is a certified manginginom LMAO

Can outdrink his dad and titos. Kahit lambanog pa 'yan

Extra respectful to the ladies in his family. Gets ultra pissed off when someone jokes about getting with his mom or older sister

Malutong din magmura

His personal favorite is "gago" HAHAHA

Medyo dry mag-chat, walang emojis (pero 'yun ang gusto ng mga babae apparently)

Not a fan of Manila (smells weird daw there)

Secretly makes fun of conyo people lol

Street food enjoyer. His favorite is probably isaw or squid balls. Matamis and maasim sauce please !

He can cook, but his mom cooks better, so taga-saing na lang siya ng bigas lol

Mahilig siya sa tapsilog siguro.

Lives off of energy drinks to survive the semester

Crush ko siya. Hala headcanon ba yan HAHAHAHA

Otoya (Oh boy oh boy)

Engineering as well, but at Mapua. Probably electrical engineering or industrial

Gwapo na mabango HAHAHA

VAPES. Onti na lang naka-lanyard na vape niya

Listens to Zild and Hev abi...

Araw-araw may IG story ng car niya, ng music na pinapakinggan niya, or panibagong soft launch

Fan siya ng American Psycho at Blade Runner kasi he is him daw (akala niya siya si Ryan Gosling na may pinagdadaanan...)

Nasa Tinder at Bumble. Bio reads: "Let's see where it takes us."

Na-cancel na sa Twitter before pero wala siyang pakialam (unbothered king?!)

Favorite song ang FE!N

Rap fan 'yan eh

Nako... may Telegram 'yan

Valorant e-boy. Kailangan may duo palagi.

Says he's into cute chinitas probably

Laging may note sa IG or sa messenger lol

"Kumain ka na ba?" texts (hala siya)

Of course, good morning at good night texts din

Frat boy siguro (may frat ba sa Mapua? sorry hindi ko knows)

Drinks a lot, but he can't handle his liquor. Gigising na lang siya the next day may video siya sa boy's GC na kung anu-ano ginagawa.

Hiori

Computer Science probably. Also in UPLB. (Ang probinsyano?? HAHAHAHA)

Studying? Why study when he can be at the computer shop? He lives there, pretty much

Dorms because he wants to get away from his family

Can't be bothered with org/frat culture

Tambay sa forums like freedom walls/reddit/etc

Sumasali siya sa e-sports tournaments

LoL and DOTA player, of course

Also plays a bunch of stuff on Steam as well though. Pero babalik at babalik pa rin sa LoL

Also plays Valorant. Smurfs for fun because he likes crushing the hopes and dreams of people. "Sala ka pa. Haha, tanga," type shi.

Always down for the early morning runs to 7-11 or whatever's open at that hour

Puro pancit canton kinakain. Puro Mountain Dew iniinom.

He and his friends always talk about PC specs...

"Hindi, pre. Mas maayos pa rin 'yung ano..."

Shidou

Also from La Salle maybe? Not the Taft branch though. Hindi kasing yaman nung iba siguro.

Fine arts student! May art account siya sa IG

Napalabas siya sa McDo dati kasi masyadong maingay

Would probably vlog a day of his life at La Salle

Posts all the unhinged shit on their freedom wall and fucks with the people from the Taft branch lol

The reason why their group chat cannot be leaked under any circumstance AT ALL

Always has the weirdest nickname in their messenger group chat

Somehow I get the vibe that he enjoys inihaw lol (same)

Napunta rin minsan sa computer shop. But very rarely because he gets too heated and starts making a ruckus there (mapapalabas na naman)

Expert commuter. Baha has nothing on him. Waterproof siya.

Would probably engage in frat culture, but only for fun

A party animal. 10 seconds niya yung Cuervo ez

Oliver

Umm UP Manila Political Science? Maybe?

Always nominated for council positions or other important roles in university organizations lol

Major kuya vibes kasi

ANONG VAPE VAPE? DIRETSO MARLBORO RED NA

Which is giving out first? His liver or his lungs? Abangan.

Unlike Otoya, he doesn't really date girls at the same time, but more so, he moves faster than what you'd expect (may rebound palagi kumbaga)

Posts on his IG story always with the intention of capturing the attention of someone lol (lagi siya humahakot haha)

"It's not you. It's me."

Bro thinks he's the male lead of a Filipino indie romance film

Cannot shut up about I'm Drunk I Love You

Frequents BGC clubs as well. Aspired to be a DJ once

Lahat ng messaging apps meron 'yan. Replies very fast too.

Search up BGC Boy playlists on Spotify. That's what he does, at least.

Yukimiya

Maybe goes to Normal U. because he wants to be a teacher/professor

The typical softboi you see at a cafe reading a book or typing away on his MacBook

So many girls like him, but he's the type to be in a long-term relationship with a high school sweetheart or something

Most of his stories are of him studying (his notes, his coffee with his notes, his laptop screen)

Ben&Ben listener LMAOOO

Possibly also a lifestyle vlogger or podcaster

Keeps getting offers to model for local brands

Possibly religious (his whole family is)

He looks like he would like adobo. 'Yung may toyo, hindi ung tuyo (ANG RANDOM BAHAHAH)

Munimuni listener (he was sad when the vocalist left)

Wants to win a Carlos Palanca award eventually

Looks like the type to advocate for the local culture and is against colonial mentality

My brain ran out of ideas that's why some are shorter than the others lol

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sparks-and-smoke · 15 days ago

Note

Hello! Could I get a fic about Bucky accidentally finding the reader’s Christmas gifts to him? Maybe he tries (and fails) to act surprised?

Thank you (ps I know it’s after Christmas, sue me)

Aww~ I don't care that it's too late for the holidays. It's cute! Merry Christmas (belated)

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader (code name honey)

Content/Warnings: none it’s just goofy holiday fluff

Author Note: merry late Christmas, this may or may not be loosely based in the Fate Stone AU I have brewing. (which since you are my beta reader ;) you already know about it.)

You are a notoriously bad gift giver, Bucky had been warned many times. He didn’t really care. As long as it came from the heart it couldn’t possibly be that bad. He could put up with socks or a cheesy mug as long as it came from you. But this was worse, so much worse.

“Sam, I don't even know what to do with it.” Bucky rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands, confiding in the only other person he knew that wouldn’t immediately tell Honey. “Can I be honest here, it’s hideous.”

Sam was keeping a pretty good poker face over his mug poker but the situation was undeniably funny. “It can’t possibly be that bad.” But Bucky’s mortified face said it all. “Why were you spying on her gift away?”

“I didn’t mean too! Necessarily. She hid it in the bottom of the closet, man. She didn’t even hide it well... I’m a spy, I notice things. Plus it was pretty hard to miss.” The blanket had been tucked away in the back of the walk-in closet under a few other things. But the obnoxious colors of the corner peeking out from under the folded jeans had caught his eyes. They didn’t own anything in orange. Anything.

His honey had gotten him a blanket, which would normally have been so very sweet seeing how Bucky hated being cold, but it wasn’t just a blanket. It was one of those viral blankets, the ones that are loosely based on 70’s rock band merch with lighting and thunder clouds rolling in the background. It’s featured pictures of Alpine, every goofy spastic picture of the cat that his girl could find with her name in the boldest font Bucky had ever seen. Honestly it hurt his eyes, and as Bucky went about describing it to Sam the other man damn near fell out of his chair.

“That is perfect. No really I think she might be a genius. I’m gonna need a video of you opening that one.” Sam goaded.

“You're not helping.” Bucky growls, guilt twisting in his guts like a worm, but Sam was too busy laughing to try and give a shit. “How am I gonna act surprised now? Let alone be excited?”

“I don’t dude, I guess you need to start taking an acting class.” Sam wiped the tears from his eyes.

~~~~

Bucky watched with crinkled eyes as you opened your gifts from him. A nice wool winter coat because all you owned was a puffer, and while it was adorable on you and always kept you warm you always said you wanted something dressier for date night. And in your stocking an assortment of your favorite treats, skin care you were low on, and that perfume that you had been drooling over since October but always talked yourself out of because of the price tag. Bucky had been making a list since your birthday, keeping tabs on what you lingered on in stores and what you sighed at as you scrolled. He knew his girl and he knew her well. And the way you lit up with every item told him he hit it out of the park.

“Do you like it Honey?” he asked, his chin propped on his hand. His face couldn’t have been softer or voice more full of love as he watched you glow with joy.

“I love it. How did you even know what eye cream I use?”

“It wasn't that hard doll.” Bucky laughed, it sits in a clear box on your vanity of course he knows.

“Here! Open yours.” You hand him his stocking and the present wrapped in pretty silver paper, looking so excited you may vibrate across the floor. He plastered on his best game face as his stomach did a little flip. Do not ruin this for her Barnes.

He starts with the stocking. Pulling out body wash and a cologne scented with that smoky bourbon and apple scent you were fond of, along with a small batch roasted coffee and some new gloves. So far so good, and he made sure to kiss you. “I love it honey.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t opened your big one.” you say with a twinkle in your eyes that makes him wanna melt into the floor. Should he tell her, confess he saw it? Risk it and pretend he loves it?

“You’re right I haven’t.” he corrects himself with a smile picking up the package. It was instantly heavier than he remembered and as he tears open the package he has a brief (very guilty) moment of hoping that maybe he was wrong…

But no there it is. That hideous blanket that he knows instantly from the look on your face he is gonna end up snuggling under for the rest of time just to see you smile the way you are right in this moment. He opened his mouth to tell you thanks as genuinely as he could muster but honey was already biting her bottom lip. A fit of giggles falling out of her. “You already saw it didn’t you!” she managed to get out between chitters.

“What?! No- I…”

A pillow from the couch flew at his head. “I knew you would. You little sneak, you do this every year!” Honey chastised as Bucky dodged another swing with the pillow.

“Hey! Whoa!” Bucky's arms go up in a weak attempt at blocking her little onslaught. “I didn’t mean too!”

“Bullshit James Buchanan!” thump, a hit to his ribs. “You did it on your birthday.” Whack, a bump to the top of his head. “You somehow sniffed out the tickets I bought to Coney Island.” one more swing but this time Bucky caught the pillow, pulling you into his lap with it.

“I did not do it on purpose!” he defended, but he was beaming. Eyes crinkling in the corner as she glared playfully. “I didn’t!”

“Yeah, you just somehow stumbled upon the blanket I hid under the laundry in the back of our closet.”

“I was looking for my coat!”

“On the ground?”

Bucky was caught, because yes he had been looking. He always did. The man couldn’t help it, he always was just too curious. “Yea, I thought so you little rat! Do you like it?” she asks earnestly. And Bucky feels that gnawing feeling again, trying not to let it show on his face.

“It’s… super fluffy.” he tries to deflect, hating to lie to honey, but her face is already breaking into a grin. What the hell?

“You hate it.” she beams. “It’s hideous huh?”

Bucky frowns, slouching back in his chair. Did she want him to hate it. “Uh, yeah it is..”

“Good thing it’s not your actual present huh.”

Bucky's eyes narrow. “You little-” She did this on purpose, hid the most outrageous thing she could find just to punish him for spoiling presents. Clever girl. Weeks of fretting over how he was gonna pull this off and SHE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. With a giggle honey climbs off his lap and back behind the couch, pulling out a slim package from the cavern behind, and Bucky’s face nearly splits in half.

“Here. Merry Christmas.” She offers him the parcel with a kiss, sitting in his lap as he unwraps it, and he feels his heart flutter a little. It’s a scrapbook. Full of pictures of him, her, Alpine and their friends. Taken by everyone who has known them the last few years. There isn’t a lot, he doesn’t like taking pictures, preferring to take them. So she must have scoured their friends' phones to find all of these and Bucky can feel tear picking the backs of his eyes. Good tears.

“Thank you Honey. I love it. I love you…”

#voice-of-velhart #bucky barnes #avengers #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Sparks picks up

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ratsummer · 6 months ago

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I think Phantom was fending for himself for years in the pit, running the circles from just about the age a ghoul can probably survive on their own. He was born into a small but loving pack, so he learned how to be a good ghoul kit, but once he was on his own, he didn't have anyone to socialize him as a young adult ghoul. Sure, he'd tag along with the odd band of ghouls here and there when the opportunity arose, but those alliances were born out of necessity and always quite brief.

All this to say, between his lack of guidance from adult ghouls, his trauma, and the neurodivergencies he was born with, Phantom has held on to a lot of ghoul kit behaviors.

When he's first summoned and meeting his new pack, everyone is on edge. He's small for a quint, and has a confusing blend of kit and adult behaviors. Once the infirmary ghouls have confirmed he is in fact an adult ghoul who chose of his own volition to respond to the summon, and not in fact a large kit they've accidentally abducted, everyone relaxes a bit.

At first, as they're learning about how Phantom was living for years prior to his summoning, emotions run high. They all hide it well from him, not wanting to frighten or burden him. Even so, there are many late nights in the den spent whispering and weeping as they process the things they learn of Phantom's past.

As time passes though, and Phantom settles in and gets comfier with all of them, the sadness and anger pass. They learn to interpret Phantom's unusual blend of behaviors, and they love him all the more. No one pressures Phantom to change, or tells him that he's doing something wrong. They accept him for who he is, and as long as he's not uncomfortable, embarrassed, or inadvertently harming himself, they're happy.

And oh, how they love their baby bat.

It took a while for Phantom to relax enough around anyone to purr at all, but now it's almost nonstop. Almost anything will set it off, too. Swiss walks into the same room as him? Purring. Mountain puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him still while he reaches over him for something in the kitchen? Purring. Dewdrop says good morning? Purring. When everyone gets together after a long day to cuddle in the den, Phantom's purrs stand out from the rest. He hasn't quite switched from the cooing, nasally purr of a kit into the rumbling, chest purr of an adult. He's slowly working into his chest purr, especially as he spends time cuddling on Mountain, Aether, and Swiss. Their purrs are deepest and most obviously resonating from their chests, making it easier for Phantom to imitate. Regardless of how he sounds, though, a purring Phantom is a happy Phantom is a Phantom getting many kisses.

Phantom is also working on scenting. The first person Phantom ever tried scenting was Dew, and boy was the fire ghoul confused at first. They were cuddled up on the couch, watching Cumulus teach Swiss some new crocheting techniques, when Phantom started headbutting him. To be fair, it was a gentle headbutting, really more bumping his face into Dew's jaw and nuzzling into him each time. Even so, it caught Dew off guard. Luckily, Rain was sitting on the opposite end of the couch and caught Dew's attention before he could react poorly. Dew, unlike Rain, had never really spent much time around ghoul kits, so failed to recognize Phantom's kit-like attempts at scenting. Rain mimed at him frantically until he got the memo and started scenting Phantom back. "Oh, Phantom," Rain chimed in soon after, "You're being such a lovebug for Dew. He likes gentler scenting though, sweetheart, do you want me to show you? Come here, it's my turn!" And of course, Rain instantly had a lapful of cooing, cuddly ghoul to coach, leaving Dew to roll around and be embarrassed over how in love with Phantom he is.

Phantom also kneads a lot more than most adult ghouls. While the others might do a little kneading here and there when they're feeling deeply sleepy and relaxed, Phantom seems to knead whether he's feeling calm or stressed. His most frequent victims are Cumulus, Swiss, Cirrus, and Mountain, and he kneads on whatever body part is closest. Tummies, thighs, arms, Cumulus even lets him get away with kneading on her boobs. He zones out hard when he starts kneading, almost slipping into a trance. They've all had to do a little correcting for Phantom with this behavior, just to show him how to keep his claws from hurting soft skin and to make sure he doesn't squeeze too hard. Sometimes, when he's having trouble being gentle, they'll pass him a stuffie or a pillow to work instead. He seems to knead the most during mass, Papa's chanting and the choral accompaniment relaxing him. Usually it's Mountain who will grab him when he starts getting glassy-eyed, holding him in his lap and letting him knead away at his arm.

Aether and Cirrus have spent a lot of time helping Phantom with his emotional regulation. Once he's feeling safe and secure with his new pack, that no one is going to hurt him if they notice him, he gets a bit too reactive when his emotions run high. When he messes up the same section of a song for the sixth time, he starts yelling and crying. When he slept poorly, he hisses and growls. When he trips down the last couple stairs in front of some siblings, he hides and mopes for hours, crying and skipping meals. Aether and Cirrus help him learn to identify how is body is reacting in a situation, and what emotion goes with it. They help him respond more calmly, so he doesn't hurt or frighten anyone. They teach him coping skills, like deep breathing, or leaving a room, or asking someone for a hug. It's not always easy, but Phantom is diligent and attentive, and with guidance he quickly finds techniques that work for him.

Yeah, idk. Just. I could go on and on. Phantom being a little different from what his new pack is used to and it's okay. It's not his fault. He's so full of love, and he finally gets to share it. He's so full of love, and his pack is thrilled that he shows them in his own way. Ugh. Nobody look at me.

#phantom ghoul #the band ghost #coping skills #new summon phantom #he's doing his best #purring ghouls #my beloved #nameless ghouls #head empty #neurodivergent phantom

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baddiewiththebook · 1 year ago

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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 2]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n I tried to tag everyone I saw, but some of y'all weren't linking. Also, there is a part three because part two became so long. Whoops!

[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3]

-> <-

“You're eventually going to have to talk to them,” Robin shimmies her backpack into the empty chair next to her rather than being strewn across the lunchroom table. “As far as they know, you changed your hair and your clothes and now you hate them.”

You place your lunch tray onto the open space, then sit across from her.

Distancing from your friends was cruel, and you knew that. Robin is also right. Still, you wake an hour early to get to school ahead of them. Taking windy pathways past the gymnasium that stunk of socks to avoid Eddie on his way to his classroom that is two doors away from yours. You carry all of your heaviest books now because Gareth’s locker is across from yours. You do regret leaving that sandwich in your locker though. Gross.

With a routine schedule, two months have flown by without a hitch in the plan. Robin likes sitting with you at lunch, but she does wish you chose to sit here rather than watching you screw away at a tight bond with the boys over at the other table.

Things were desperate by the first week when you shoved toilet paper up your nose in order to fib to Eddie that you were too sick to go anywhere. You missed two days of class just so you could keep away from him.

Then, there was the band performances. You never missed a single night that Corroded Coffin played music at the scrappy biker bar at the outskirts of town. The boys had stopped inviting you after “missing two,” but you snuck into the shadows in the back of the bar. No one really bothered you there. Stage lights distracted the performers enough to where they could only see the front row of drunks.

All of the practice in Gareth’s garage paid off. Corroded Coffin was good - no, excellent. You were so proud of the boys.

You wish you could tell them.

And, so, maybe Robin is right. All of this running around is silly and reckless. You miss all of your friends dearly. Even Eddie, who still you find absolutely and undoubtedly the most complicated soul you ever met in your entire life. Your friendship is more to you than desperately clinging to his ankle like a shaken chihuahua in heat.

Maybe there is a part of you that still wishes he’d see. All the effort you put into your hair, your skin and your nails isn’t just about proving that you aren’t just one of the guys. You knew this from the very beginning. Still, even after your conversation with Gareth that one night, you still play out this plot a little longer.

You like the shiny bling and the tighter clothes that get you a bit more attention. But, you didn’t have to change yourself completely - right?

“Isn’t it time for me to mingle with people who have similar interests as me?” You say finally out of your head. Snagging one of Robin’s fries, you drop down in the seat across from her.

“You've proven you can be a chick with or without that frizzy haired freak. Don't act like you don't like the same stuff they do,” she flicks your jacket, which has hours of patchwork done. You had sewn on patches of your favorite bands. Most of the bands, you had learned from Eddie, himself.

Hours of listening to music together in his trailer, while sharing a blunt. Eddie would get a wind of energy and then he’d leap onto his bed for a solo performance. Fingers stroking a guitar that never existed. You laugh as he tumbles over his mattress, and he tells you that’s when the crowd will carry him - to victory!

You warm at the memory.

Eddie is the only person at his lunch table. Kicking his foot up onto an empty chair, he lounges and he waits for his friends. He’s always the first to get there because his class is so close to the cafeteria. It takes Gareth and Jeff a longer time because they come from the gym. And, the freshman come from the opposite side of the school, so they take the longest to get to the cafeteria.

“Go on,” Robin nudges you. “I’ll see you in math later.”

By the time Robin kicks you thrice in the shin, you get over your worries. You want to patch your friendships up with the boys, but you’re not sure what to tell them. Explaining the truth felt horrific. That you like - er - liked Eddie. Gareth’s confession in the kitchen.

Yeah, the truth seems far fetched.

Your second option is to beg for them to quit calling you ‘one of the guys,’ but that too came off risky. You've never had a problem with their comments before, or their disgusting antics and habits. Once you smell a Jeff fart, then all of the other farts seem forgiving. Seriously, no one should ever give him cheese again. Yet, they do.

Anyway, talking to Eddie first feels less daunting then to come up to all of them at once. But, with your stalling, your wish comes to late. The boys rush the table, hollering and whooping like unkept animals.

You stop in your tracks fully when you see two women beeline for the table. They never invite people to their table. Or at least, they never invite just anyone.

Roxie is easy to recognize. Candy coated red lips meet that of Eddie’s pale cheek that blushes a deep crimson at the affection. Eddie hangs his head, so he can smack a wet kiss to her lips. She uses a free hand to swipe the spare lipstick from his mouth.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed.

Roxie touches his hair in a way that makes his eyes droop low, and he rests his head on her chest. All while he keeps his conversation with Jeff going.

Meanwhile, the other woman is her opposite.

Brunette hair cascades down her back, and tangles amongst her woven sweatshirt. Arms wide open with her slender fingers covered by the net sweater she hid under. She sneaks up on Gareth, and hangs over his neck. Gareth cranes his neck, and whispers in her ear making her laugh sweetly. He touches her wrist with gentle fingers and he pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with his free hand, before they have a chance to slip further down her face.

“Indie!” Dustin shouts.

The girl hanging from Gareth picks her head up, and grins with a shining sparkle in her eye at the young freshman. She reaches over to ruffle his hair.

You panic.

Slamming into someone’s shoulder, you apologize and you retreat like a mouse being stepped on. Time slows down. You move around people as fast as your feet will carry you.

You can hear your breath in your ears meeting up with your heart banging against your ribcage.

Robin calls to you, but you can’t hear her. Blood rushes through you, and you swear your can feel the swimming and the tingling. Your fingertips tingle when you push open the door into the hallway.

Technically speaking, you couldn’t be out here if you're on our lunch period. A few classes still go on, but mostly the teachers didn’t want anyone to catch them smoking in their classrooms where they shouldn’t be. It’s not like the smell lingers.

Somewhere down the hallway, a classroom is having a heated debate. Voices bounce from wall to wall. Echoing into your eardrums. All. Too. Much. You aim for the big showy doors at the front of the building.

Cool damp air hits your cheeks. Trees stand tall. Birds hold meetings on their branches. They sing soft melodies. Outside smells earthy.

Immersing yourself in the sourness of the damp remains of rainfall, you slow your jagged breathing. Your heart beat regulates.

Keys trembling in your fist, you find your car parked not too far away in the parking lot. Some asshole has blocked your passenger side in, so even if you wanted too you wouldn't be able to get in that way.

Kicking yourself for taking the cowards way out, you catch a tearful glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Mascara slips down your cheeks. Your drowning in two inches of water.

Eddie's bandana sits in your glove compartment. It still remains his with the lingering tang of old cigarettes and sweat. You told him if he left that nasty thing in here that you'd wash the stink out.

You haven't.

Clinging to a tissue, you use that to pat your face dry. Dabbing at your eyes, you don't want to disturb your makeup. Funny how a few months ago, you would be scrubbing your cheeks raw to get anything off of your face.

The tapping on your window startles you because you think a teacher has seen you. However, you find only Robin with a pitiful expression on her face. She waves for you to roll down your window, then holds out your backpack and your jacket that you’ve left behind in your scurry to get out of school.

“You left your things,” she looks at your puffy eyes and your worn out makeup. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you reach out for your things, only to put them in the passenger seat next to you, “I think I’ll go home.”

“Indie is a really nice girl-,”

“I’m not worried about Indie.”

Robin winces at the sharpness of your tone slicing through the air like butter. You apologize to her.

“I’m going to go home, Robin.”

“Roxie and Eddie are only going to last for a day - I guarantee,” her shoulders bobble. “It’s Roxie.”

“Yeah,” you say thinly.

Robin taps your car. “Get home safe.”

“Will do,” you say. “Thank you.”

-> <-

When you arrived at school the next day, you're in class for less than fifteen minutes before your name blasts on the intercom to report to the main office. Robin salutes you from her seat in the back of home room like you’re taking a final walk, before they take you around the back and shoot you between the eyes. Well done, soldier.

Although not as dramatic, you were served a detention slip for after school. You suspected as such, since you left halfway through school without an explanation. Next time you'll go to the nurse, and heat up the thermometer with your tongue. Give her a cough, or a sneeze and she would send you home.

You tap your fresh manicure across the etchings in the desk. Profanities. Markings of once was, and forever will be.

Low rumbles cause for distraction. You pick a desk next to a window where you see the gray clouds clustering in close. They spit at the ground. Droplets of water slip across the glass. You guess which droplet will get to the bottom first, and silently cheer the winner.

Your eye drifts to the front of the class where your chest rises and falls at the next person to walk through the door. All those months of hiding your head felt worthless when Eddie shows up.

For a moment, you think, he’s looking right at you. You swallow, but you try waving. Eddie does ignore you and plops himself into a chair at the front of the classroom. His backpack drops with a thunk.

Tipping your attention back to the window, the rain comes down harder in flashes of wet thunder and lightening. Dark and stormy weather is your favorite. Because, after the rain stops, you like splashing in every puddle until you can’t see the color of your boots anymore.

You can’t do that in your new sneakers. Not a speck of dust on them. Barely out of the box.

“Everyone in their seats,” a man in a blazer walking with an arch to his spine tells us. He hovers at the front of the classroom with both hands on his desk, while peering just above his square framed lenses. Wild gray hairs stick out on end near his ears. You wonder if he’s done this on purpose to accentuate that despite he’s bald on top of his head, he still in fact has hair. “I’m Mr. Clark, and this will be an hour long detention session.”

You came prepared with notebooks and homework to do for the next hour.

“I’ll be taking attendance, and then you may quietly do your homework or read . . . for all I care, bang your head against the desk just be quiet,” he aims the metaphorical bullet at Eddie and misses, and hits the wall just over the top of his head.

Eddie clicks his teeth. “You got it teach.”

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark groans. “Will I ever get tired of seeing your face?”

Eddie grins famously. “Oh, you know you’ll never get tired of me, Dick.”

“It’s Richard,” he clears his throat, then straightens his tie, “Mr. Clark to you.”

You miss the banter. The smart mouth Eddie that has you drooling. Oh, God, please resist getting sucked in again.

The notebook in front of you has pages of blank white paper. You focus on filling in the lines with your math equations.

“Solve for E,” you tell yourself in a hushed whisper. “What ever happened to X?”

So, you solve for E.

You raise your hand when your name is called for the attendance. Pretending that Eddie didn’t whip around at your name, instead you solve for E. You solve for E because E is the equivalent of- E is the equivalent of-

Eddie can’t help, but watch your eyebrows get closer and closer to your nose. You get frazzled easily when you know you’re close to an answer that’s on the tip of your tongue.

You’re breaking now. Keeping your head down, as Eddie burns holes into the top of your head. E isn’t an equivalent of anything. E is the most complex and confusing letter of the alphabet. You swore up and down that you would avoid E. E’s in front of you. There’s no way to escape E for an entire hour. Even when you think you've solved E, you still have to see E living in a trailer across from you. E’s lights still on. Eating. Watching TV. Changing. Sleeping. Dreaming.

Crap, you are not thinking about the fifth letter in the alphabet. And, you are certainly not thinking about math.

You throw down your pencil in frustration.

Eddie waits for Mr. Clark to finish his attendance taking. In mere moments, the old geezer passes out despite his fifth coffee of the day. He rocks back in his chair, arms at his side with a trail of drool spilling out down his chin.

That’s when Eddie moves.

“Hey,” you have your head down on your desk by now, but Eddie doesn’t care.

He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding the group. Obviously, he misses when you would sit at the table and you correct his homework from the night before. You’re too smart for him. Eddie knows this. You’re more than a brain to him, though. The way you speak with your hands more and more when you get excited.

Eddie likes to pretend not to understand why he gets nervous when you lean over his shoulders to show him how to work out a problem in one of his classes. He pretends to not notice the scent of your soap that smells so sweet and delicious. That the smell lingers when you leave.

What he can't shake, however, is why you haven’t been speaking to him for the last two months. Darting into empty classrooms when you think he’s not looking. When your home, you'll keep the lights off or low enough that he might forget you’re home (he doesn’t). And, you think you’re clever sneaking into the back of his performances with the band, but Eddie sees you there dancing by yourself with a grin on your face that could break apart the gray days and bring back the sunshine. You haven’t missed a single performance yet.

So, where have you been?

You bring your head up from the table because you know Eddie is smarter than to think you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes you talk, or you twitch your arms - Eddie’s seen this when you knock out after a long day. He'll let you sleep there, but he'll take off your shoes so that you're comfortable. And, he'll even place a blanket over you because you'll start to shiver. But, he never stays. He doesn't want you to wake up because Eddie is notoriously clumsy. Instead, Eddie would sneak into the living room twiddling his thumbs making no noise until you wake up. He wouldn't turn on the television. He wouldn't warm anything up in the microwave. He wouldn't even open his fridge. He would sit on the floor of his living room kicking his feet together, and plucking at the carpet fibers.

You never sleep long - thirty minutes at most.

Eddie thinks about how much time you spend together in his trailer at this moment. You’ve shared everything. Clothes. Towels. Blankets. Toothpaste. Food. Secrets. You've made a mark on him when he wasn’t looking. If there is a way to tattoo someone into their brain, into their heart, you're there.

That terrifies him.

“Hi,” your voice melts him.

Eddie stumbles over his words. “Erm-,”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I just-,”

“How are you doing?” Eddie wants you to keep talking. He’ll ask about anything to keep you here with him. Tempting you like a rabbit, and him holding onto a carrot, he waits for you to bite.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Yeah, good.”

You can’t hold back. “You’re with Roxie, now?”

“Hm?” He hums. “It’s casual.”

“Casual,” you repeat. “Like I said- erm- I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. My classes-,”

“Don’t lie to me,” Eddie’s eyes swell, and you fall deeper into the trap. “What’s happening to you?”

Okay, truth time.

“I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back,” you stretch out your top. “I even tried changing my look, but that seems pretty pointless now. But, I guess I just got tired of being compared to a boy.”

Eddie could faint. You're infatuated with someone so much that you changed your entire wardrobe. Guilt rubs at him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie's denying what he already knows about himself. That if he kept comparing you to one of his guy friends that certain emotions couldn't grasp hold of the surface for air.

“Who's comparing you to a boy?”

He had to be sure.

“Seriously?” you frown. “Everyone. You. Gareth-,”

Confirmed.

“Is this about Gareth?” Eddie clenches his fist around the back of his chair. “I swear to God, I’ll pummel that little sack of shit.”

“Eddie,” you scold. “It’s not Gareth- never mind.”

“Wait, who’s the guy?”

You hum. “What?”

“You said you liked some guy?” Eddie pieces together. “It has to be one of us, right? I mean you stopped talking to all of us specifically, so which one of us is it?”

“That’s not important,” you suck in a breath. “Eddie, I’m doing homework.”

He snorts, the flips the page so he can read the question, “you’re doing it wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t I usually the one who’s correcting you?”

“Gareth’s girlfriend has been helping me since you- never mind,” Eddie sees the tension in your jaw. “Okay, so to solve for E, you plug in this number here and then you take the square root there.”

You’re irritated, but Eddie is right and you mark your paper up how the equation should be.

“Thank you.”

“So, it’s Gareth,” Eddie presses on.

“What?”

“The boy you like that doesn’t like you back?”

“No,” you write another math equation out on your piece of paper. “Actually, Gareth liked me, and I didn’t feel the same.”

Eddie knows this, but he just needs to hear you say you don't like his friend.

“The plot thickens,” he gets comfortable. “Is it Jeff? Come on, Jeff is a catch.”

“Eddie, please drop it,” you beg.

Eddie throws a few more names out that you can ignore over your homework. But, slowly he begins to run out of ideas. You know where he’s going, and you’re not sure how to react when he says,

“It’s not me is it?”

Your pencil stops scribbling, and if you’re careful you can pretend to be thinking really hard about - what two plus two equals. Oh, damn.

“It is me.”

Those three little words trip you up more than Eddie’s jaw being on the floor right now. You stammer for a little too long. Tripping over the right words to say to him.

This is it.

The moment you’ll lose him for good.

You want him to just tear your heart from your chest and squeeze it until it pops. Make the pain of an aching heart go by so much faster.

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark rose like a zombie from the afterlife. “Is there a reason that your seat is empty?”

Eddie whirled around. Still stunned, he replies,

“Uh. . . right, sorry.”

Without making too much noise, Eddie puts himself back into his original seat towards the front of the classroom. Fidgeting with his pencil, someone might mistake that he’s doing homework for the first time.

Eddie lives across the trailer park from you. How could he not see this coming? All the nights he's spent rescuing you from the clutches of your mom, who, despite being a wonderful host, has this unnecessary plea that you embrace your ‘femininity.’ That’s what you call it, he thinks.

Oh, and now to let you down.

Eddie’s seeing someone great. Roxie. She’s - she’s - she’s not as much of a slut as people say. And, he likes - no he loves that thing she does with her tongue.

Okay, he’s getting distracted.

You’re one of his closest and longest friendships he’s had. And now, you, have to go and change that.

Eddie’s mad. Angrier than angry. How dare you bring this to him.

Two months you kept away. You ran around the school like a chicken with your head cut off trying to avoid all of your loyal friends. And, you brought Robin into this mess?

Robin, at the very least, is a sweet and a neutral party. Okay? She doesn’t involve herself with anyone’s drama. She just sticks to the side of the drama like she's riding in a sidecar, and she takes notes. She lingers.

Eddie rubs his eye.

Maybe if you and he went on one tiny - the tiniest - date. As in, he doesn’t pay for food, kind of dates then you’ll get whatever you want out. You can go back to being friends, and Eddie can still see Roxie. Because, he likes Roxie.

He doesn’t like you like that.

Eddie wants nothing more than to forget the conversation you two just had. Yet, you’re lodged in his brain like a damn tumor. Yeah, a tumor. Growing at an alarming rate, he wants to smush your pretty little face. Not in a violent way - no, he’s not like that. He just wants to get out the tension, and - and hold you for a night? Does that make sense?

No, Eddie it does not.

Eddie wishes you didn’t smell so good today . . . and all the other days. If you smelled like an ogre, he could stop thinking about taking you on that ‘barely-call-it-a-date’ date. Although, if you were an ogre and you did smell as good as you do right now - ugh, that doesn't matter!

None of this matters. Why is he thinking like this?

In theory, he’ll take you somewhere romantic. To release you of your crush faster, he’ll spend the money - okay? He decides to break the bank for you.

Only once.

There’s a little spot outside of town that has the most delicious steak dinners. They have a dimly lit dining room, so Eddie wouldn’t have to see the dress you spent hours deciding on wearing. Your bare skin softened by the scented lotion you bought just for the night. He can hear your laugh like a song he knows by memory. You tilt your head back, exposing the flesh of your neck.

After your dinner, that he pays for - not you, he’ll walk you down the street where he parked his van earlier. He’ll have cleaned out and scrubbed the seats until every stain kicks the bucket. Driving you home, he’ll feel that knot in his chest that he knows from watching cheesy romantic comedy movies as practice for when that crap happens to him (he doesn't do that . . . shut up.). That knot tighten a little more by the time he gets to the trailer park. And, by the time he gets out of the car his fingertips start to shake.

Eddie will open your door, if he can get there before you. Taking your hand in his, he’ll feel the warmth of your skin against his. How right the moment feels. How nervous your breath is against his. How close you are to him. He’ll be the one to learn in first - you're too nervous to make that leap.

Lips as sweet as milk and honey. He would kiss you for a long time, always coming back for more. Eddie won't find himself getting enough of you. You’re touching his hair, and he melts.

Eddie will never want the night to end.

“Munson!”

Eddie doesn’t recall falling asleep. Yet, his eyes snap open. Mr. Clark’s slobbering from the side of his mouth. He’s so close that Eddie makes out the patches in his face where he’s forgotten to shave.

The classroom is emptying. He only catches a glimpse of you leaving.

“Go home, boy,” Mr. Clark begs. “You and I both know you don’t want to be here for any longer.”

No, Eddie does not.

In fact, Eddie would much rather be wrapped in your arms in either his bed or your bed.

Eddie shoves his notebook and his pencil back into his backpack knowing full well he heard something crunch unhappily in there. Racing out of the classroom, he sprints after you in the hallway.

But, you’ve already gone.

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #angst

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kaliforniahigh · 15 days ago

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birds of a feather, we should stick together - n.s. (part one)

Best friends to lovers, fake dating and best friend Noah <3

Warnings: a mean character, curse words, Noah makes fun of fine line tattoos, lies and reader trying to fit in to the best of her abilities. If I missed something, let me know!

Part 2 is in the works and coming soon!

WC: 4.3k words.

Requests are closed for now / Click here to be added to the permanent tag list <3

To say you were overly excited to meet up with your high school friends would be a total lie. When you told Noah they arranged a lunch date, to remember the good old days, he scoffed, and asked you why you even stayed in the group chat with these people.

Truth is, they weren't all bad. Acually, most of them were pretty nice, It was the Regina George of the group, also known as Jade, who fucked up the vibes.

Jade was a mean girl, and she never understood why you were friends with the awkward emo kid, with the side-swept bangs. This emo kid being your best friend, Noah Sebastian, who was the first person you met when you enrolled in a new school, in the middle of the school year.

It was 6th grade, and you had just moved to Richmond, VA. Your dad was transferred, so you had to find a new home, in a new city.

You and Noah became friends fast, being paired up by your English teacher during reading classes, you talked more than you actually read. He found out, that even though it didn't look like it, you enjoyed the same bands as he did. And that you learned to play acoustic guitar from a pretty young age.

You told him that your dad was in a band during his college years, but, due to adult responsabilities, it became more of a hobby for him than anything else.

Soon, the two of you were inseparable. Walking down school corridors together, him going to your house to do homework, and showing you around the city on the weekends.

You were the one who took school more seriously than him, and you were the one who ended up going to college and getting your Master's degree right after. But he was the one who always took you to watch his band practice, who took you to watch his friends - who were always much older than the two of you - perform.

When you were both 15, Noah told you he was going to drop out of high school. You weren't too happy, because you wouldn't have your best friend with you anymore, but you always knew the time would come, and were surprised he didn't decide to do it much sooner.

And that's how you met Jade and her friends. You weren't popular by any means, but, one day, she approached you and asked you how you styled your hair so nicely, and how she loved your pink tips.

You wanted to tell her that your best friend helped you. When you told Noah you wanted a splash of color in your hair, he went to the store with you to buy the necessary things. He wanted you to do purple, but you settled on pink. You remember him huffing in annoyance, telling you that pink was such a boring color.

At home, he helped you with the back of your head, while you spread the vivid color on the front pieces. It turned out amazing, and you joked that he could be a hair stylist if this band thing didn't work out.

Noah and Jade never really got along. The first day they met, Noah was picking you up from school, waiting for you in the parking lot. You remember Jade making a backhanded remark about his tattoos and the way he dresses, and Noah's face turned sour immediately.

After that, anytime they were in the same vicinity, shady comments were thrown by both of them. Noah always commenting about how the bleach in her hair must've gotten to her brain, and Jade commenting about how Noah was a wannabe rockstar.

Noah asked you many times why you kept her around, instead of dumping her and finding new friends, and you always explained how it wasn't that easy.

This was high school, and everyone already had their group of friends, not really being keen on letting other people in. Besides, without him there, and without the girls, you truly had no one else.

At the end of the day, he understood. Noah himself had a hard time making friends, and to this day, he never understood how someone like you decided to befriend him. He knew how being solitary could ruin your years in high school.

Now, sitting in this overpriced lunch spot they found downtown, you were contemplating your life choices as you tried to eat your Caeser salad without grimacing. All of them ordered fucking salads, and you did the same, not wanting to be the only one ordering chicken parm.

"Girlies", Jade said, wiping her mouth with a napking and setting it back down on her lap. "I know this is a reunion, but I have such good news", she clapped her hands excitedly. Typical Jade, always wanting the attention on her.

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to what she was saying.

"So, you know how Peter proposed to me last year, right?", everyone nodded yes. "We're getting married in two months!", she exclaimed, reaching inside her Louis Vitton bag and pulling out what seemed to be wedding invitations. "And all of you are invited!"

The girls cheered and started to hug her, you did the same, expressing your happines for your friend.

"It's going to be in the Bahamas, in an all-inclusive resort", she informed, handing out the wedding invitations. Meanwhile, you were wondering with what money you were getting your ass to the Bahamas.

"Peter is paying all the expenses, for everyone, so don't even worry about it", she said, as if reading your thoughts.

Jade got engaged to the kind of person everyone thought she was going to date. Peter was a hot shot plastic surgeon based in LA. You had no doubt he racked up millions of dollars every month just fixing people's faces. Jade herself had something new done everytime you met up.

"What about you, Y/N? Who are you bringing as your plus one?", Emma asked. You guess you zoned out and missed part of the conversation.

"You're bringing your boyfriend, right?", Lily chimed in.

Did they even know if you had a boyfriend or not? You looked around the table, all the girls waiting for your answer. You didn't know what to say. Suddenly, your eyes noticed all of their beautiful engagement rings, and you didn't have the courage to say you were still single.

"Yeah, of course", you answered, hoping you were convincing.

"Uhh, that's amazing! Who is he?", Jade asked, excitment coating her voice.

Shit. Who the fuck would you say is your boyfriend?

"Noah", you said. He was the first person to come to mind, and you didn't hesitate to say his name.

You saw Jade's face twist in a frown.

"You're dating Noah?", she asked, judgment evident in her tone.

"Hmm, yeah, for a while now", you were lying through your teeth at this point.

"Well", she shrugged. "I guess it was always gonna happen anyways", and just like that, the rest of the girls went back to their conversations, while you mulled over what the hell you had just done.

You were already gonna tell Noah to come with you to the wedding the moment she handed out the invitations, which, was going to be a difficult task in itself, since Noah held a grudge against Jade to this day. But you were sure you could convince him with the all-inclusive resort argument.

Now, not only did you have to convince him to go with you, but you had to tell him you told the girls you were dating?

You were already thinking of excuses not to go.

When everyone was finished with their meals, they slowly started to say their goodbyes. You did the same, giving each one of them a kiss on the cheek as you made your way out of the restaurant and to your car.

When you got in, you instantly fished your phone from your purse, dialing Noah's number.

"You need saving from the botox bitch?", Noah answered the phone. You rolled your eyes, but laughed anyway.

"I'm already leaving the restaurant, actually. I was calling to ask if I can come over"

"Since when do you call to ask if you can come over?", he asked, confusion in his voice. He was right, you usually just showed up.

"I don't know? To make sure you're home?"

"You know I'm always home"

"Can I comer over or not?", you asked again, a hint of fake annoyance in your voice.

"Of course you can"

"Then I'll see you in fifteen", you said, hanging up the phone and starting your car.

On the way over to Noah's house, you've been thinking about how you were going to break the news. You still had a little while to think about what you were going to tell him, but, you knew that as soon as he saw your face, he'd know you were hiding something from him.

So, without an actual plan, you decided to tell him today. That way, you wouldn't have to torture youself for days with this information, and you gave him more time to prepare. That is, if he even decided to go.

You trusted your abilities to convince him, though. Noah had a history of doing whatever you wanted just to see you happy, and you never took advantage of that, but desperate times call for for desperate measures. Besides, a vacation to the Bahamas, with all expenses paid, didn't seem all that bad. Even if you had to endure Jade for a few days.

Parking outside, you gave yourself a pep talk before leaving your car and locking it behind you. Using your spare key, you unlocked the front door and made your way inside the living room, announcing your arrival by calling Noah's name.

"I'm right here, what are you yelling for?", he answered from the couch, the PS5 controller in his hands. You just shrugged in answer, and sat next to him.

Grabbing your purse, you pulled out the fancy wedding invitation Jade had handed to you, and set it on the couch beside him and between the two of you. Grabbing it and reading what was written in gold letters, Noah's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, so the queen of botox is getting married to the king of botox?", you gave him a sideways glance, but smiled at his nicknames for the couple. It did suit them, after all.

"Yeah, they are. Jade couldn't help but announce it today", you pointed out.

"Well, are you going?", he asked, setting the invitation back down.

"Hmm. It depends, I guess", you answered, avoiding his eyes and you could tell he already clocked that something is wrong.

"Why?", he asked, a little hesitant.

"Jade said we can bring a plus one"

"Yeah, you usually can at weddings"

"And I was thinking....", you trailed off and looked at him, seeing the exact moment the realization dawned on him, and he immediately started to shake his head.

"There is no way", he said, getting up from the couch and walking over to the kitchen. You got up as well and went after him.

"Why not?", you asked him, a little bit of whining in your voice.

"Are you seriously asking 'why not'?"

"I mean, I know you don't like her, but c'mon, this is gonna be a nice wedding. Besides, it's in the Bahamas, and Peter is paying for everything", you argued.

"Is it's because it's in the Bahamas, I can pay for a vacation for us in the Bahamas, no problem", he crossed his arms against his chest.

"It's not because of that"

"Y/N", he stepped closer towards you. "You know you can just go alone, right?"

"I can't go alone", you huffed in annoyance, because his argument was totally valid, but you did not have that option anymore, all because of your big mouth and will to please everyone.

"Why not?", he asked, confusion etched all over his face.

"Because...", your shoulders slumped as you realized the gravity of your mistake.

"Hey", he grabbed your shoulders, sensing your discomfort. You were never uncomfortable around him, so this behaviour from you scared him a little bit. "You can tell me, what is it?"

"I told them I have a boyfriend", you say, voice low and a little embarassed.

"But you don't have a boyfriend", he observed the obvious, having difficulty in understanding where you were going with this.

"I told them it was you", you looked down towards the floor, fingers going to rub your forehead as you waited for his reaction. The seconds ticked by, and the silence ate you alive.

"You...", he started, but stopped himself in his tracks, head going over what you just told him, to make sure he got it right. "You told them we were dating?", you answered with a head nod, still looking down.

"Y/N", he said your name with a little bit of annoyance lacing his tone. He looked up at the ceiling, as if willing the heavens to give him the strength to deal with you.

"I know, I know", you say, looking up at him. "It was just that they were drilling me about this and I didn't know what to do!"

"Tell them you're not dating anyone?", he deadpanned, and you hated that he kept stating the obvious.

"Yeah, but they already see me as the odd one out, what are they gonna think when I tell them that I'm almost thirty and not dating anyone? They're all engaged, for fucks sake!", you exclaimed and started to pace around the kitchen.

"You worry about what they think of you too much", Noah pointed out. He hated the way you felt like you always had to please them, they way you always thought you had to fit in into their world.

"It's ok, I'll just come up with an excuse so I don't have to go to the wedding", you waved your hand, dismissing this conversation. You were already feeling your head start to throb. You made your way to the couch, grabbing your purse, and the invitation.

Behind you, you hear Noah let out a big breath, before softly calling out your name. You stopped in front of the door and turned around to face him.

"You owe me big fucking time", he pointed a finger at you, and you couldn't help but let a smile dance over your lips.

"You're gonna do this?", you asked, a little doubtful.

"You're doing my laundry for two weeks", he comprimised. "No, three weeks. Fuck it, you're doing my laundry for a whole fucking month"

You cheered at this, not minding it one bit. His laudry was easy since he only had black clothes.

You skipped your way over to him, reaching your arms up and circling them around his neck to pull him into a hug. You couldn't see, but he had a smile on his lips as well.

At this moment, Noah thinks he would do just about anything to keep you happy.

"At least she can't make fun of your hair anymore", you observed, as you parted from him. He groaned in reply.

"Don't fucking push it", he warned you, but there was no real threat to his words.

"Oh!", you snapped your fingers as you remembered an important information about the wedding. "I forgot to tell you something"

"What is it?", he asked, looking at you sideways in suspiscion.

"It's at an all-inclusive resort", you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. "Besides", you continued "Jade's probably gonna invite so many people, we won't even cross paths with her", you observed.

"I hope you're right"

To say you had a lot of time to prepare was a lie. Time flew by incredibly fast, and in between work, choosing a dress and picking up a suit for Noah - who complained endlessly about having to wear it, you argued that he can't wear a black tank top to a wedding, and he huffed and puffed even more - you were only one day away from boarding the plane.

You were going over everything in your suitcase. Another thing Noah was going to complaing about, you can hear his voice in your head asking you why you needed so much stuff. You zipped it up when you decided that obsessively thinking if you forgot anything was not going to make you magically remember something.

You texted Noah that you were ready for him to pick you up. You both decided it was best if you slept over at his house, and he was asking one of the boys to drive you over to the airport for practical reasons.

It wasn't too long before you heard honking outside, signaling Noah's arrival. You took everything you needed, and looked around you to make sure you locked everything up, and when you were satisfied with your quick inspection, you walked over and opened the front door.

Noah was opening the trunk when he saw you.

"Don't say anything", you raised your hand up to stop the words you were sure were going to stumble from his lips. He raised his arms up in surrender and didn't say anything. But, he did make overexaggerated grunting noises as he hauled your bags inside the trunk. You ignored him and went to lock your front door instead.

Getting in the car and driving away, you pulled your phone from your pocket.

"Jade already texted the flight information", you observed.

"At least she's competent", he retorted.

"Imma need you to try and be civil, at least. Remember we're going to enjoy the beach and drinks", you reminded him of what you've been saying for the past weeks. "And you can't call them botox queen and botox king".

"If she doesn't talk shit about my tattoos, we'll be fine", he argued back.

"Her husband has tattoos", you pointed out, as if that makes the situation any better.

"I bet it's some fine line pussy ass tattoo of a lion or some shit like that", he grunted in annoyance, remembering he's gonna have to deal with Jade AND her husband.

"You know what?", you rubbed you chin in thought. "I think it actually is", you pondered, and you both couldn't help but cackle out loud about the fact that he was most likely right about the tattoo.

The rest of the day went on without a hitch. You ordered some food so you didn't get any pans or pots dirty before traveling, and soon, you were both ready for bed, since you were leaving pretty early in the morning to catch your flight.

You were getting comfortable in Noah's left side of the bed, when he came in the room, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, joining you under the covers.

Plugging your phone to charge, you turn to look at him, doing the same.

"Did you set the alarm?", you asked and he hummed a yes. "Did you set it really loud?", he hummed in reply once again.

He knew you got anxious whenever you had to do something important in the morning. You always thought some entity was going to disable the alarms you set on your phone and you wouldn't wake up in time.

"Don't worry, we'll get there with lots of time to spare", he reassured you, and opened his arms so you could lay against his chest.

Sleep found you easily, as it always did whenever you and Noah slept on the same bed. You were used to sleeping in an empty house, since you've been living on your own ever since you moved for college. But to say your sleep was calm and serene was a lie.

With him, you felt safer, like he could protect you from everything and anything. You trusted him more than you trusted anyone else in your life.

Noah, wasn't as tired as you were, and he contemplated how these days were going to go over as he waited for your breath to even out. It was a ritual of sorts whenever you two slept together. He always waited for you to fall asleep first. And, sometimes, when you had difficulty sleeping, he sang some soft tunes, or rubbed your scalp the way he knew you liked, and that always did the trick.

Next time you woke up, was with Noah's shrill alarm ringing on the bedside table. He really did set it really loud, because you were groaning and telling him to turn it off. He woke up with a yawn, disentangling his arm from under your torso to finally quiet the alarm.

Yawning and stretching your limbs all over the bed, you heard Noah chuckle beside you.

"You're like a damn cat, stretching like that", he pointed out, looking at you with a smile on his face.

He always thought you were the most adorable in the morning. Your hair was a little messed up, and your eyes were all tired and fighting sleep. A part of him wished he could just pull you back to rest beside him and resume sleep. But, the trip from hell awaited the two of you.

Getting up from the bed, he announced he was going to brush his teeth and take a shower, meanwhile, you busied yourself gathering all of the suicases and backpacks downstairs.

As soon as Noah left the bathroom, you went in there and did your morning routine as well as you could with your stuff all packed away. Luckily, you kept a few things over at his place for convenience.

Changing into something comfortable for the airport, you made your way downstairs and found Noah dressed in usual sweatpants and hoodie combo.

"Did you grab your sleep mask? I won't lend you mine this time", you told him. Last time, you had to endure a whole flight without your sleep mask, because Noah had forgotten his, and you had no heart to tell him no when he asked to borrow yours.

"Yes, ma'am. I grabbed my sleep mask", he answered. "I already texted Jolly, and he's on his way to pick us up".

"Did you lock everything up?"

"Yep, already checked the entire house while you were showering"

Noah was used to this. You had a ritual everytime you were travelling, and he learned that getting ahead of you was the best thing to do. That way, you wouldn't get stressed with things he didn't do, or forgot.

Right on cue, you heard a horn souding outside, Noah opened the door and was greeted with Jolly waving from inside the car.

"Ok, let's go", you clapped your hands in a "chop chop" motion.

On the way to the airport, Noah and Jolly chatted on the front seat, while you went over the flight details on your phone, making sure everything was in order for check-in. Noah hated airports, so he left you in charge of everything he found boring.

The drive was short, and soon, you were bidding Jolly goodbye at the drop off zone, and you didn't miss the little pat on the back and the "good luck" he wished Noah before getting back in his car and driving away.

Checking-in, you and Noah found a place to sit while he grabbed some breakfast for the two of you. While you sat there, eating and waiting, you were reminded of a very important detail that you forgot to discuss with him.

"Oh, my God! I totally forgot to talk to you about something", you exclaimed, swatting him in the chest to get his attention.

"This is the second time you forgot to tell me something about this wedding trip", he said.

"When they ask us how we got together, what are we gonna tell them?", you ask him. You've been going over all the lies you'd need to tell during this trip, and you realized that you and Noah didn't have a game plan at all.

"That one day, you professed your undying love for me and then we started to date?", he said, as if the answer was obvious, but you could tell he was sprinkling a little bit of sarcasm in there.

"I'm serious, Noah", you huffed, looking at him. "We have to be beliveable, otherwise, they'll catch on, and ruin the whole thing"

"We can just tell them that we realized we wanted to have something more than just a friendship", he suggested, and the idea wasn't so bad. Jade always said you'd end up together from how much time you spend with each other.

"Out of nowhere?"

"No, we've been hiding our feelings, thinking that the other didn't feel the same way, until, one day, I told you I liked you and you told me you liked me too", you rubbed your chin, thinking over his plan. "It's not overcomplicated and if we stick to the same story, we'll be fine", he reassued you. "Besides, Jade is so self-absorbed she'll probably not even ask anything about us at all"

"That's very likely", you agreed with his reasoning. After all, it was Jade's wedding, so the light is gonna be on her, and not on you and Noah.

"What about PDA?", you broached another subject that you've been avoiding.

"If you wanna kiss me, you can just ask, you know?", he teased you, nudging you with his shoulder.

"It's not what I meant, and you know it", you told him, but you weren't able to hide the little blush covering your cheeks, and he noticed too, by the way he was grinning.

"I can hold your hand. I mean, I kind of already do. But let's just go with the flow. You don't have to worry too much about this, it's just a couple of days, after all", he said, and he was right. You and Noah meshed well and were usually in the same wavelength, so there was no reason to think things were going to go south.

You just hoped you had time to relax and enjoy the beach, the drinks and the foods, which, if you knew Jade as well as you did, were going to be impeccable.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @miwomens @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @prettygirlrock126 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @kenjipepsi1 @montgomery-929496 @daddy-dierkes-girlie @stardustsirenmelody @cheyyyyr @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @youlookforultraviolet @w0manof-flesh44 @chaoticwineaunt @geminigirlfromfinland @turn-your-life-into-folklore @butterflyeffect07 @zozaline @deardelirium @ferduttini @jilliemiw86 @alylanaeblack @lilcrazy011

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens imagine #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #bad omens fluff #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah thoughts

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tubatwo · 1 month ago

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once more to see you - huening kai

summary: where meeting TXT Bank’s new intern makes y/n come up with any excuse to see him

pairing: gn reader x huening kai

genre: fluff; 2.1k words

a/n: I don’t even know what this bank thing is for yet I just saw this pic and immediately had to write. also this is literally not how bank visits go but LMAO. aren’t silly stories just perfect!!! nothing makes sense!!!

working in food service in one of the busiest cities meant that each night would end in tips galore. thankfully, your regular checks were enough to pay the bills, so you usually stuck with depositing cash tips at least once a month.

this was a regular routine that worked for you. walk into TXT Bank, talk to the strict bankteller whose name was apparently taehyun, show your ID, hand money over, boom. done.

but one day, this routine ended up falling apart. you walked in, and instead of taehyun, you were met with the face of the adorable new intern.

kai was deeply focused on the computer in front of him, desperately trying to figure out the client case taehyun showed him earlier. his cat-like manager’s instructions kinda went in one ear and out of the other, so it was crucial to figure things out as soon as possible if he wanted to secure his full-time position. that is, until he noticed your figure approaching with his peripheral vision.

the two of you locked eyes, eyes sparkling as if you each had just spotted an adorable puppy. kai’s cheeks grew red and your ears started to feel hot as you walked closer to him.

“hi, excuse me? i’m here to deposit cash to one of my accounts.” you look down and start to play with the zipper of the bag holding your tips, the eye contact from before making you overwhelmed as your brain practically malfunctions. where the hell is taehyun? and did he have to leave someone so cute in charge?

kai clears his throat before putting on his best customer service voice, “of course! i’d be more than happy to help you, ma’am.”

you look up and see his name tag: ‘KAI HUENING - INTERN’ the word ‘intern’ snapping you out of your temporary trance from before.

“oh um, is this the right desk? i noticed your tag says intern…” the furrow of your brows and confusion all over your face makes it near impossible for kai to hold back his smile as he responds. “no worries! i’m in the midst of receiving a full-time position here. i may be an intern, but i can assure you that i’m approved to work on deposits. we’re just a bit short-staffed at the moment.”

kai’s warm, gentle gaze washes over you, so much that even if he was straight up lying, you wouldn’t even blink an eye. his brown eyes were slightly hidden by the strands of hair falling over his face, which also happened to be decorated with soft moles all around. his mullet-like haircut also complimented his button-up, making him look like the lead singer of an old pop-rock band.

“ma’am?” kai’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, making you flinch a little. “oh, i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

you wave your hands and apologize, “i’m sorry! i suppose i started drifting off a bit. here is everything you need.” you pull your ID and the cash out of your pouch, handing it to the intern and trying to calm your heart after your fingers brush against each other. after everything is finalized, kai hands your ID back to you. “alright, everything is set!”

you look at his nametag once again, “thank you um… kai?, i really appreciate it.” kai’s cheeks grow red again at your voice saying his name so sweetly. he chuckles nervously and scratches his head. “yep, that’s me! well, did you need anything else?”

you try to rack your brain for any possible thing that could extend your stay, but nothing comes to mind. “no, that’s all! thank you again.” you say, slightly disappointed. kai smiles. “it was my pleasure, make sure to visit us again!”

and you did. many times. like waaaay too many times.

after meeting kai, you couldn’t help but want to see him more. your usual monthly trips to the bank turned into weekly, and then almost daily. every time you collected your tips for the night, you made sure to visit the bank again in the morning.

as you visit more frequently, you and kai’s interactions start to become playful, and you become a bit more closer. you both still get shy as you lock eyes, but jokes are often thrown in here and there. kai found himself taking extra time to count your money when you came in, desperate trying to hold onto every second of your presence.

“hey!” you try to hold in your laugh, “as the intern, shouldn’t you be learning to count faster not slower?” you joke. kai’s hearty laugh fills the room before he pretends to look offended. “excuse me? it’s only natural that I get a little distracted when a pretty person enters the room”. his words make your entire body grow warm, and you can’t help but try to shift the focus away from you. “o-oh? I don’t think that line was part of your training.” you giggle.

kai giggles with you before thinking of a rebuttal, “you’re right actually. our handbook specifically says to not flirt with customers... buuut i’ve never been great with remembering the rules.”

“well, if you’re gonna be a bankteller then you should probably start studying before you end up in jail for fraud or something.”

the two of you burst out laughing, failing miserably when it comes to keeping quiet. you let out a few giggles again before you’re left in a comfortable silence. “I guess you got me there, but seriously y/n, i’m happy I can always help you.”

after a few months of visiting kai (and seeing the bank more than your own family), you wake up one day to head over before realizing that you don’t have any tips to deposit. “shit.” you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes in frustration. you had the day off yesterday and don’t go back to work until tomorrow. you were left with a completely free day to do whatever you wanted.

any normal person would have taken the chance to relax, maybe get some chores done, even some shopping? but the only thing you cared about was hearing kai’s laugh again. there had to be more reasons to visit the bank, right? yeah! you could come up with something…

after cleaning yourself up and getting ready, you felt slightly embarrassed at how much effort you put into your appearance. were you trying too hard? would kai get the wrong idea and think you were meeting with someone? by the time you had answered your own questions, you were already at the front door of the building. you took a deep breath and headed inside, expecting brown eyes to meet yours again.

well, they did. but they weren’t the ones you were looking for.

“how can I help you?” kang taehyun asks after seeing you walk in. his eyes go back to his computer, and he begins typing something up. you’re so caught off guard that you can’t even come up with a response. you already didn’t know what to come here for, and now that taehyun is in front of you, you feel stupid for even showing up.

“I want to… um…” you trail off, causing taehyun to pause his work and stare at you, waiting for an answer. you look around nervously before quicking spewing out, “open a bank account! yes! I um, want to open a new account.”

taehyun goes back to type some things into his computer. “ID?”

“huh?”

“ID. I need your ID to confirm your identity, ma’am.”

you suddenly realize what you’re doing and awkwardly feel around in your purse, looking for your wallet.

well shit.

“s-sorry, it’s uh… it’s gotta be in here somewhere.” you stall. as taehyun pinches the bridge of his eyebrows, a familiar figure exits from one of the staff rooms.

“hey taehyu-” kai notices you in front of him, a worried look etched across your face as you dig through your bag. taehyun motions kai over, “come watch, kai. you can see how we deal with customers who clearly show up unprepared.”

kai’s voice and the mention of his name immediately make your head shoot up. you look at him embarrassed, desperately wishing you could go back in time to when you were still in your bed. you feel frozen as the two men stare at you, waiting for you to do something.

“hey,” kai reaches out to lightly touch your arm, “are you okay? do you need help?”

you brush him off, not wanting to worry him. “no, i’m okay hyuka, i’m sorry.”

before kai could react to you apologizing to him (for what seemed like no reason), taehyun eyes the two of you suspiciously. “do you two know each other?” he asks. kai looks over and nods before speaking, “yeah, we’re uh… friends…?” he looks over at you with a mix of hope and hesitation in his eyes, not sure if you felt the same way.

“oh!” your eyes widen, “yes! we’re friends. i’m sorry, i’m just so used to running into him here now.”

kai feels relieved hearing you agree, and his heart beats faster at the thought of being somewhat of a constant in your life, even if it’s just to deposit cash into a bank account. he quickly brushes off his thoughts before coming to your defense. “see? everything’s okay. they’re just a regular customer, that’s all. you don’t have to scare them to death.” he jokes.

“no! it’s my fault,” you admit, “I don’t need to do anything actually… I even forgot my ID on the way here, i’m really sorry for bothering you guys.”

kai looks at you confused. he doesn’t know why you keep apologizing, and he really doesn’t know why you showed up if you didn’t have any requests to make. taehyun, however, is able to read between the lines. “i’ll leave the two of you alone.”

kai doesn’t even glance at taehyun as he walks off. his only focus is you and making sure that you’re okay in this moment. “you’re never bothering us, but is something wrong? what’s the matter?”

you let out a deep breath and decide to be brave. you can do it. just tell him. if nothing works out, you can always just deposit in the future through an ATM or something…or maybe get a new bank.

“okay well, this is super embarrassing but I didn’t have a reason to visit today, kai,” you pause, looking him in the eyes, “I just really wanted to see you...” you trail off, feeling even more embarrassed than you did before.

kai laughs softly at this while you continue to ramble, “which technically is a reason! y’know?”, he takes your hands in his, causing your brain to malfunction like the first time you ever saw him.

“did you really come all the way for me? even without needing a deposit?”

you laugh to yourself and how lame the two of you sound, probably something straight out of a nerd fantasy book. “yeah, even without the deposit.” you smile, squeezing his hands lightly. kai blushes and smiles to himself, trying to come up with a joke to mask his sudden shyness. “are you sure it was worth it? i mean, taehyun’s pretty scary.”

you smile and nod your head, “you’re here in front of me, right? i’d say it was pretty worth it.” you and kai both look around the building only to find that there’s no one else here. just the two of you.

you look back at each other, eyes drifting down to each other’s lips as you gravitate closer. before your lips meet, kai whispers.

“can I kiss you?”

you nod and press your lips against his. one of his hands come up to hold your cheek as if it were made of glass, and you allow your arms to wrap around his waist. as the kiss continues, you chuckle, making him pull away, wanting to see your smile once more.

“can I take you on a date? after I get off of work?” he asks, lips suddenly feeling cold after pulling away. “I would love that, kai.” you smile as you hug him. “it’s a date then! I promise i’ll finish work as fast as I can.”

“oh, no you won’t, I need you to focus instead of rushing.” a certain voice interrupts the two of you.

you look over to see taehyun smirking with his arms folded, almost as if he was silently taking credit for getting the two of you together. kai rolls his eyes playfully at taehyun, “yeah, yeah, I didn’t mean it literally!”

taehyun looks over at you with an apologetic look in his eyes. “i’m sorry for my bluntness earlier. it gets pretty stressful around here, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on a regular customer. I don’t know how kai keeps his composure sometimes.”

“I get to see y/n almost every day, how could I not love every second of it?

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