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rebeccccccaaa · 20 days

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Too Sweet

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Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

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It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites.

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now.

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked.

“Then why are you calling?”

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most.

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him.

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically.

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though.

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.”

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too.

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though.

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh.

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips.

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him.

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper.

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out.

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you.

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them.

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day.

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always.

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself.

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered.

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs.

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you.

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud.

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that.

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl.

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself.

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs.

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together.

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy.

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax.

“Oh god, too much, Spence.”

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously.

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly.

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs.

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined.

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined.

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained.

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course.

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of.

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him.

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe.

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face.

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle.

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place.

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time.

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp.

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again.

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you.

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax.

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated.

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high.

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts.

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink.

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before.

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips.

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer.

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently.

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted.

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.”

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face.

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read.

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet.

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing.

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back.

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you.

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #first fic back!!#hope you enjoyed reading #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #reader insert #smut

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hotpinkstars · 3 months

Text

-> the house won't ever feel the same again

synopsis -> you and alhaitham got into a relationship-damaging fight.

w/c -> 1.3k

warnings -> hurt no comfort, alhaitham is an asshole in this, dehya is your emotional support lol, reader moves to liyue, arguing and insults, reader is an artist

“alhaitham, please stop stressing. you cannot write twenty papers in the span of three hours. come to bed with me, dear.”

you knew that this would happen. dating the acting grand sage of sumeru would be no easy feat. and now here he was, slumped over his desk, gripping an abnormally large mug of coffee. you telling him to stop was making the grip even harder. you noticed, and took a deep breath in.

“you know, getting angry is not going to get you anywhere. please, take my advice, and do not overwork yourself tonight.”

“can you not?” he snapped. “let me do my work.”

this took you off guard for a second. he’s never said something like this to you before- even in your wedding vows, he promised he wouldn’t ever insult you, show major aggression to you, or put his hands on you. ever.

“i’m simply just trying to help, dearest, please take my advice-” you stopped yourself, seeing his expression. he just rolled his eyes at you, bringing himself back into his work. you’ve never seen your husband do that, he’s always at least taken your words into regards. you try once more. “alhaitham, come to bed-”

“can’t you tell i’m trying to do work? leave me the hell alone!” he slammed his hands on the table, making you jump back a little bit. tears were coming to your eyes, but you tried to control them.

“what is with the sudden aggression? you have never done this before!” you raised your voice slightly to try and counter his words, trying to make yourself appear bigger than you felt you were.

“you’re trying to interrupt me as i work. i will not tolerate it. you can wait. stop caring so much, would you?” he sighs, putting his face in his hands, running his hands up and down his head and ruffling his own hair. “leave me alone. how many times do i have to make myself clear? or is it not clear enough? are you just that stupid?”

that sentence made you freeze. he did not at all look like he was going to take that back. you nodded and started to walk out the door before he grabbed your shoulder. you stopped once again, thinking this was him apologizing, but you turned around to find a very angry man.

“and by the way, i’d never do that for you. that’s irritating, and your artwork isn’t worth caring for anyways. go.”

and there was the start of many tears. you ran out in fear and sadness, wondering what ever got into him to lash out like that. you knew he could be extreme and give out major criticism, but he was never this harsh to you. you looked down at the band on your ring finger, spinning it around a few times. the good memories, your honeymoon, your wedding, and the proposal all came flooding through your mind. it made you cry even harder than you already were, if that's even possible. you slid the ring off and threw it on your nightstand of your shared home, and then was sure to make a point of moving it to his. so he could see the damage he’s caused. you packed a tiny bag and left for the night to go to your friend dehyas place. you knew she’d have some good advice for you.

after a short trek to see her, you knocked on her door, soaked from the rain. she welcomed you in with an impressively strong pat on the back, immediately noticing your puffy eyes and noticing the ring wasn’t where it was normally.

“what happened to that ring that alhaitham married ya with? did divorce knock on your door?” she sighed. “i knew that’d happen, damned man.”

that sentence made you cry again. she immediately corrected her wrongdoings and pulled you into a strong embrace, stroking your hair.

“alright, tell me what's the matter.”

“he raised his voice at me… he’s never done that before, dehya!!” you cried harder into her arms, and you could hear her sigh.

“that man, oh did he make a mistake. what are you going to do?” she asked, looking down at you without stopping her motions.

“i’m not sure.. i love him… but i don’t think he loves me..” you sniffled, hugging dehya even tighter now. she nodded, looking down at you in sorrow. she wishes on every star there was something she could do to make you feel better.

“maybe you should try to talk to him. i know that’s probably not gonna do too much, but i guess it’s worth the effort…”

“but i tried that already, dehya! trust me, i tried to talk to him. and then he ever so rudely kicked me out like i was a colleague that was sent from the fortress of meropide in fontaine! worthless!” you groaned, letting your head fall dramatically on dehyas lap.

“maybe you have to let him approach you first. give it time, it’ll probably happen.”

you thought long and hard about that night. it’s been two days since your argument, over what exactly? just because you didn’t want him to fail at his job? his papers don’t even have a near due date! if even one at all!! you sat against your bed, lightly scratching the ground with your nails. it seems alhaitham took the ring he gave you, and went back to work the next day. he probably isn’t even thinking about what happened, or so you thought.

considering, the night you got back from dehyas, you were welcomed home to him sipping on some tea, watching the television. probably some documentary about the history of the aranara. you said a slight hey, and he just looked at you, immediately making your heart sink. you sighed and walked away to the spare bedroom. the worst part was that he just let you. he didn’t seem like he cared, or willing to take back all of the insults he threw at you that night. it seemed like that night was the only thing you could think about.

though, he feels super remorseful about the things he did and said that night. he hasn’t been able to properly focus, being logical enough to know that those words are something you’ll likely never bounce back from. you’ve already broken a paintbrush you’ve had, scratching a rip into a painting you spent hours on. he saw that when he came back home that night, gasping slightly. and that’s when the reality hit him.

he’s currently slouching over his desk, doing something he’d never even fathom doing in a million years- doodling on his papers. he couldn’t focus, he felt he needed to make it up to you. but he’d only ignore you whenever you tried to take dehyas advice and maybe talk through it with him. he doesn’t know why he ignored you, he just thought he couldn’t talk to you properly in the moment.

little did he know you were packing your suitcases to move into a small apartment you purchased with a fair amount of mora in the middle of liyue harbor. you told dehya about your plan, also letting her know to wait on letting alhaitham know about your plan. you were too hurt by his words, and you knew you could never be able to sleep in the same bed, nevertheless see the man anymore. you knew you were gonna be gone by dark tonight, which is plenty time before he’d get home. once you’ve packed the last of your things, you set off, taking a carriage to the chasm before being escorted by yelan herself to the harbor, tipping her a fair amount of mora for her kindness. you immediately felt more refreshed, in a new place, away from the man you’ve never known would be as toxic as he appeared to be.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x reader angst #genshin angst #genshin impact angst

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

OOOO what about Jamie having a huge crush on the reader so much so it’s effecting how he thinks like how he was in the show where he played against Man City. So Roy and Keeley follow him (like in the show) and see him spying/ watching (he’d never admit it) the reader whos working either as a waitress or a bookshop owner because he’s too nervous to go in. Or maybe even secret girlfriend where they follow him and accidentally meet the reader whos been in a secret relationship with Jamie. Lol I hope you can understand what I was trying to say 😅

Pretty sure I picked up what you put down! Here ya go!

don’t go wasting your emotion

Jamie Tartt is not acting like himself.

The first person to notice is Roy, because it shows in his training. He seems… distracted. So he mentions it to Keeley, and asks her to keep an eye out. They have some big games coming up, and Richmond cannot afford a distracted Jamie. Keeley promises she’ll check up on him soon, but Jamie just keeps getting weirder.

He jumps and hides his phone when Dani plops down next to him on the locker room bench, passes the ball to the opposing side during practice, and keeps going offside. It isn’t long before the other coaches notice, as well as his teammates. The only one who doesn’t seem particularly worried is Sam. When Isaac asks him if he’s noticed anything off about Jamie, Sam just shrugs and says, “It’s probably nothing. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.”

AFC Richmond does not have time to wait. They need Jamie to get his head out of the clouds and back firmly on earth.

Shortly after Isaac’s talk with Sam, Colin catches Sam and Jamie whispering in the weight room. He catches snippets of words like, “can’t know,” “just do it,” and… “bookstore”? Surely he didn’t hear that right. Colin shrugs and heads to go see Trent. He’s an investigative journalist. He’s got to have some insight.

Colin presents this information to Trent, Ted, Beard, and Roy, none of whom have any real ideas. As they try to come up with plausible scenarios, Trent leans agains the door with his mug in quiet thought.

“You’ve been mighty quiet over there, Mr. Independent. What’re your thoughts?” Ted asks.

“I’m not sure,” Trent replies. “We simply don’t have enough facts to come to a conclusion. What we need is someone to follow Jamie after work and see if that will provide any insights.”

“I’ll do it.”

The room turns to look at Roy. He looks uncomfortable. “Keeley and I have been meaning to talk to him anyway, and if he fucking catches any of you lot following him, he’ll never fucking trust you again. I’m your best choice.”

Beard looks at Ted, and they nod.

Ted says, “Alright Roylock Holmes. You and Dr. Jones have fun tonight. Let us know what you find out,” and that’s that.

—

Roy calls Keeley and tells her the situation, and it’s not hard to find a pretense for her to be with the team. It’s movie night, and she’s there more often than not. They have pretty much unanimously decided on Paddington, mostly to heal Dani’s trauma from hearing the Paddington Twitter account gave Richmond no marmalade sandwiches. That’s what they say, at least, but if they are crying within the first fifteen minutes, that’s not for anyone to say.

Jamie sits in the back and he keeps looking at his phone. Sam pokes him and Richard catches something that sounds like, “Go- can’t expect- if you didn’t ask,” at which Jamie nods, looks around, and then slips out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Isaac asks Sam, who shrugs and says, “I would assume to use the restroom.”

Isaac turns back to the screen, but Roy and Keeley look at each other, nod, and quickly get up to follow Jamie.

They trail him out the building and down the street, watching as he puts his hood up in an effort not to be noticed. They follow him for half a mile as Jamie makes a very purposeful trek through Richmond, unaware that he’s being followed.

Keeley and Roy turn a corner then stop, because Jamie has stopped. He’s just out of sight of some big glass windows. He checks the time, gives himself a shake, then removes his hood and pulls the door open. Keeley and Roy share a look and rush to the window.

It’s a bookstore. The sign on the door says they close an hour from now, at 9pm. Jamie is inside leaning on the checkout counter, talking and laughing with you, the cashier.

“Started that book you told me about,” he says. “You’re right. I hate it.”

“Right??” you reply. “Isn’t it awful? It makes no sense at all, and reading it makes you feel like you’re on drugs, and it’s supposed to be a classic! Thank god you only got it at the library and didn’t have to waste money on it.”

Jamie laughs. “Got any real recommendations this time? Trying to become more cultured.”

You laugh too. “You know, you’re a lot more cultured than you think. You’ve understood most of my references, and you have an impressive vocabulary. You have a wonderful grasp on the difference between intellectual and conversational tone.”

Roy and Keeley can’t tell what you’re saying, but they’re thinking the same thing. Is Jamie blushing?

Before they can ponder this, you come out from behind the counter to lead Jamie to a shelf. You both look straight at Roy and Keeley, who duck. You turn to Jamie, humor on your face. “Friends of yours?” you quip.

“Un-fucking-fortunately,” he responds. “Oi!”

Roy and Keeley slowly pop back up and Jamie exasperatedly beckons them inside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Roy, stoic as ever, just grunts. Keeley says, “We were worried about you! You were acting all weird and botching things at practice. We thought you were dying!”

Roy rolls his eyes. You’re doing your best to maintain a straight face.

You know exactly who these people are. You know Keeley Jones because who doesn’t know about Keeley Jones? You know Roy Kent because he came up as a suggested search after you googled Jamie.

Jamie has been coming into your bookshop for a while now. At first it was to look for some book about forgiveness, but after you helped him pick that out he just… kept coming back. He’d lean against the counter, supported by his elbows, and stay from 8pm until closing. Usually, he was the only customer you’d get that time of night.

It wasn’t lost on you that he was a) gorgeous and b) definitely flirting with you. He wasn’t the first customer to fancy himself in love with you, but he was the first that you actually liked back. And the first who really read what you said you liked.

You just didn’t get why he hadn’t made a move yet, especially after looking him up. It didn’t make sense. You considered making the first move, but that freaked you out too much. Still, despite his inaction on that front, he kept coming back and talking to you. Sometimes he’d bring you coffee. He’d always help you close the store. You once joked that you should put him on the payroll, to which he looked at you, and deadpanned, “You couldn’t afford me.”

You’re pretty sure that’s the moment you actually fell for him. You’re a sucker for a good, stupid sense of humor.

“Why would you think I were dyin?” Jamie asks.

Keeley shrugs and Roy answers, “Because you’ve been playing like shit.”

Jamie glares at Roy. “I have not, you dusty old twat. You take that back.”

Keeley clears her throat. “Well, actually babes, you kind of have. It’s been this whole thing. Everybody’s worried about you!”

Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Why the fuck are you all in my business? Did Sam put you up to this?”

“Why the fuck would Sam put us up to this?” Roy asks.

“Because Sam caught Jamie looking at my Instagram,” you interject.

Three sets of eyes turn to you. “What?” you shrug. “Sam looked up my handle and messaged me about it. We’re friends now.”

Jamie shakes his head in disbelief and Roy says, “So Sam fucking knew about this?”

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red as he says, “Uh, yeah, so Sam’s been telling me I need to ask her out for like fuckin ages now. Always on me about how it’s dumb to keep checking my phone for her texts, especially because I haven’t even asked for her number or some shit.”

You swear that is the dumbest, cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“You want my number?” your voice comes out an octave higher than you’d like it to.

Jamie turns to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I do. Been meanin’ to ask you, but I dunno, I keep telling myself you’re just being nice to me ‘cause of your job. Didn’t want to be fuckin weird.”

You smile. “Jamie Tartt, for someone so intelligent you really are dumb sometimes.”

He looks pleased with the compliment, then offended, then he realizes what you’re saying. His face goes through those expressions in a moment and then your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss.

Keeley looks on with a smile and Roy stares at the ceiling uncomfortable.

You break apart and Roy says, “Oi, Tartt!”

You and Jamie turn to look at him, arms still around each other.

“This better mean you’re done fucking up practice.”

“Yes coach,” Jamie mock-salutes.

Roy gives him a singular nod, and with that, he and Keeley head out the door. Keeley gives you a little wave and a thumbs up to Jamie.

“Now, where were we?” Jamie asks. “Oh, right…”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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withleeknow · 6 months

Text

in the dark.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, crying, mention of blood, mention of animal abuse, not very edited lol word count: 0.6k note: oh i've had the idea for a scene like this for a whiiiile now and i was hella motivated to finally write it after watching skzflix 😂 (twas supposed to be used for a jk fic but oh well, sorry jungoo)

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

"It was stupid of you."

"Okay."

"And reckless."

"Okay."

"And dangerous."

"Okay."

"And stupid. Did I already mention that? Because it was fucking stupid."

"Oka-"

"Fuck!" you snap. "Why do you keep saying that? Is it the only word in your vocabulary?"

Minho shrugs defeatedly, like none of this matters to him, but his guilty eyes tell you otherwise. He purses his lips for a second, before he tells you, "What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you're sorry? Say you'll stop doing it? Say you won't put me through this again?"

He stays quiet, and to be honest, you expected him to. He's too stubborn for his own good and he's too good for his own sake. He's got the kindest heart you know, and you will always love him for it, but...

It's hard to make peace with it when he shows up at your doorstep every few weeks with bruises all over, like an abandoned dog asking you to take him in and put him back together.

It's hard to keep track of all the reasons he tells you to justify his borderline foolhardy actions. The last time it happened, it was because he ran into some psycho abusing the stray cats near his neighborhood. Tonight, it was because he saw someone get mugged on the street.

It's even harder to be okay with the fact that he's infinitely selfless and kind because you love your friend.

You love your friend.

You heave a sigh, going back to the task at hand because you know there's no convincing Minho otherwise. Sometimes, you wish he'd think of himself, that he'd put himself over others. Sometimes, you wish he'd think about you.

You asked him about it once, why he kept showing up to yours instead of going to a hospital. Instead of going home.

He only replied, simple and earnest, "I just want to be here with you."

You soak a cotton swab in rubbing alcohol before you press it gently against the cut on his cheek, wincing when he does. Then you move to the cut on the bridge of his nose, the one on his jawline, the one on the corner of his mouth...

You don't meet his eyes, but you feel his steady gaze on you the entire time you tend to his wounds. You're aware of how your hands are shaking, the way every breath you exhale is trembling, and that there are tears ready to overflow any second now.

The first one spills as you work on cleaning the blood off the corner of his mouth.

Then, suddenly, the cotton swab is no longer in your hand. Minho carelessly flings it elsewhere, and before you can scold him for interrupting you, his palms are on your face, delicate fingers cradling your jaw.

You blink. Just a split second, and his lips are on yours.

He's soft, and warm, and sweet, despite the bitterness that's been on your tongue the entire night. You love him. You do.

And he kisses you like he loves you too, tenderly and wholeheartedly.

You want to keep him with you forever, to never let him go, to not have to see him get hurt ever again. You don't think it's possible for you to endure it anymore, now that you know how it feels to have him like this.

When he pulls away, you're dazed. Rightfully so.

Minho doesn't stray from you for too long. He lets you catch your breath before he's leaning in once more.

Another kiss. Three seconds.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles against your lips, his tone so painfully sincere.

Another kiss. Four seconds.

"I'll stop doing it."

Then another one. Five seconds.

"I won't put you through this again."

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #skz #lee know #lee minho

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highvern · 6 months

Text

Lucky Me

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: idiots in love, fluff, established relationship

Warnings: sickening sweet tooth rotting fluff, kissing, tears, brief mention of illness, in this lore Seungchoel is a married man and off the proverbial streets

Length: ~1.4k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's first L-word! post Discovery by like a few weeks lmao. I'm actually crying in the club bc Mingyu is my ENXJ kindred spirit so i wrote this in the most self serving way possible lol

read more here

“Can’t believe you’re not picking up your phone right now. Really selfish of you. What if I was dying in the street and you didn’t know because you ignored my call? What then, huh? Your poor boyfriend just wants to talk to you but I guess you hate me now.”

You chuckle at the sound of your Mingyu’s scolding. Always one for dramatics, that one. Toweling off your hair, you move to tidy the discarded packaging from the decorations you spent hanging all afternoon. Mingyu’s voicemail plays through the speaker of your phone on the counter as you work to clean up before people start arriving.

“Anyways! I picked up the cake for the party tonight, and some more snacks and beer just in case. The lady at the bakery said the cake took her all morning because the picture I sent of Jihyo kept making her laugh. Hate to say it but I think you have some competition. I can already see us getting married and being her sugar baby.”

Everytime an old lady even compliments Mingyu he tells you to watch your back because they want to steal him from you. Your eyes roll at his comments but they humor you nonetheless.

“She’s nowhere near as pretty as you though, so she's gonna need to step up her game. Alright, I’m gonna stop at my place to shower and grab some clothes and then I’ll head your way. Text me if I need to get anything else on my way, okay? Love you, bye!”

You freeze, plastic bags and towel dropping to the floor with a wet thud.

“Shit.”

You hear his faint curse through the speaker as the voicemail ends.

Heart squeezing as you replay his words over and over, you plop down on your butt to the hard wooden floor. Love you, bye! Love you, love you, love…

He loves me.

Oh boy.

The new information is magical, twisting your insides in knots as you think of all the times you’ve wanted to say those very words you’ve buried in your chest over and over. The times he makes you laugh so hard you think you might pee your pants, his own giggles pulling him to the ground; when he cleaned out space in his dresser for your stuff, buying duplicates of your toiletries so you could come over whenever you wanted and feel at home; when your car broke down on the side of the road and he came to pick you up, racing across town in the dark of night to get you; when Wonwoo told you he’d never seen Mingyu so happy since you’d started dating; the time he cried when Seungcheol recited his vows to his now wife; how he always pulls a extra mug out of the cabinet when he makes his morning coffee, leaving it next to the machine with a sweet note for when you get up.

I love him.

Oh boy, indeed.

Standing, you grab your phone from the counter. Mingyu called almost an hour ago meaning he will be at your apartment any second. You use the few minutes you have left to calm your breathing, praying your hands stop shaking and the blush you feel dissipates as you open the freezer and pludge your face into the cold air.

A clunky knock at the door startles you. Sprinting to unlock it, you nearly fly face first into the door knob in your haste.

On the other side is your boyfriend, thick waves of stress palpable as they roll off his body. Mingyu’s hands are full with groceries so you snag the cake, planting a quick kiss on his chin in greeting.

“Hi,” he mumbles, fear evident on his face.

“Hi!” You beam, dazzling smile thrown over your shoulder as you walk back toward the kitchen.

“Ugh, did you get my message?”

Mingyu pauses to kick off his shoes by the door, nervousness firing through every fiber of his being. He meant what he said on the phone, but you've only been dating for a few months and he doesn’t want to mess anything up by being over eager. Correction: he can’t mess this up; he’s certain the heartbreak would kill him.

Mingyu prides himself on all the times he’s reigned in those three little words from slipping past his lips. Whenever he’s drunk and sees you smile, whenever he’s sober and sees you smile; when you cried about your shitty boss; when he cried at Seungcheol’s wedding, imagination running rampent; every morning when he wakes up next to you and every night before falling asleep in the same place; when you took care of him when he had the flu a few weeks ago; the first time he saw the new toothbrush you bought him to keep at your place, sitting in the cup on bathroom sink right next to yours. The list is endless.

He can’t help that he’s built to love so deeply; his friends, his family, all of the important people in his life have their own space carved in his heart including you. Even before you started dating he cared for you. Your name has been branded in his chest since day one and inferno has only grown as his fondness expands with each moment.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry I missed your call, I was in the shower.”

“It's okay! I just know you like to be kept updated.”

After placing Jihyo’s birthday cake safely in the fridge, you turn to face your boyfriend. He looks like he might actually throw up, hands shaking as he unpacks the bags he’s brought in and eyes refusing to look in your direction. You can tell Mingyu is watching you out of his peripheral, waiting for you to comment on his confession with bated breath.

You stride around the kitchen island to stand next to him, helping sort the different treats he bought in silence. The juxtaposition between you two is almost laughable. You’re all shy smiles and flushed cheeks, unable to control the wild thump of your heart; while Mingyu looks like he might sprint out the door and into traffic at the drop of a hat.

Once all the bags are discarded, food lining the counter to be prepped, you turn to rest your back against the edge of the cool marble, your soft gaze focuses on his face. Arms crossing in front of you, you watch as he pretends to be busy to avoid meeting your eyes.

“I love you too.” You confess shyly, sides of your mouth quirking upwards.

Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he might give himself whiplash. All you can do is smile demurely, embarrassed by the way he stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Really?”

Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently.

Next thing you know you’re consumed in a tight embrace, squashed into his chest as he squeezes you so hard you might explode. The smell of his cologne and laundry detergent waft of his shirt, soothing your own nerves as you relax in his hold. You can hear his heart racing in his chest, thundering below your ear; your own echoing in response.

“Say it again.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I love you.”

“Oh my god.” He gasps.

“Say it back.” you pout, chin digging into his pec as you peer up at him.

For a second, all Mingyu can do is stare at you, face soft with emotion, eyes cataloging your features. In his wildest dreams, he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to feel this way about another person. How lucky is he that the person he loves loves him too?

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He says, hands moving to cup your face as he emphasizes a different word with each repetition, tip of his nose rubbing against the side of your own.

“Baby, are you crying?”

“I can’t help it! I love you! And you love me!” He wails, pushing his face into your cheek. “I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Aww, Gyu!” You coo, turning your head to kiss away his tears as they fall.

Mingyu catches your lips with his, needing to show you how much he cares for you rather than just tell you.

But one more time doesn’t hurt.

“I love you.”

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #svthub #kim mingyu #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern #svt #dghe couple #svt smut #svt fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff

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kbergceramics · 5 months

Text

these feets are made for walkin, and that’s just what they’ll do, one of these days these feets are gonna walk all over u !!!!

ring dishes, wizards, and mugs going into my etsy shop tonight 👀 whatever time i finish lol, i’ll post when it’s up!

#ceramics #handmade #pottery #art #ring dishes #cute art #footed pottery #i always feel weird using the tags for actual tags lol even after all this time

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daydreamingyuta · 6 months

Note

Jaehyun x reader request? Hehe

One where jaehyun x reader are together but 127 doesn’t know & one day, y/n visits them on set and happens to stare shirtless Johnny down as a joke and have a laugh with him but bf jaehyun misunderstood, getting jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship to them? (Does this make sense, I’m like typing whatever is in my head haha!)

My Girl | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, you're in a secret relationship with Jaehyun and you jokingly decide to make him jealous while visiting him on set which leads to everyone finding out about you're relationship. wc: 1,297 a/n: thank you for sending in this request! when I tell you I had so much fun writing this... I was literally giggling lol I hope you enjoy it <3

“Are your eyes closed?” Jaehyun asks, carrying in two mugs of hot chocolate to the living room where you’re sitting. You nod your head, excited to see what your surprise was going to be this time. You hear the mugs clink against the coffee table as he sets them down and then gives you permission to open your eyes where you see the delicious drinks he made.

“I can’t remember the last time I had hot chocolate!” You say, picking one up and blowing on it before taking a sip. You hum in delight as Jaehyun takes a sip as well. You both weren’t planning on seeing each other tonight, but since all the members were out of the apartment, you decided to take advantage of this precious time. Not that you minded the other members, you loved them actually, but you and Jaehyun had decided to keep your new relationship a secret for the time being. You had been friends for years and didn’t feel ready to be all ‘coupley’ in front of the boys just yet.

“I can put on a movie if you want?” Jaehyun asks and you nod your head in agreement. You honestly didn’t care what you two did though , you just adored getting to spend alone time with him.

A movie plays in the background as you two enjoy the hot chocolates. Once your drinks were gone, you found yourself tangled up together on the couch. At some point Jaehyun decided that playing with your hand was much more entertaining than watching the film. He intertwined your fingers with his and brought your hand to his lips, pressing sweet kisses all over.

“Hey.” He says, quietly looking over at you, gently squeezing your hand.

“Hey.” You say, matching his tone, squeezing back.

“We’re filming some more of our music video tomorrow. You wanna come visit me on set?” The sweet smile on his face makes you want to say yes, but then you think about how it might look to the other boys. It was like Jaehyun had read your mind and assured you that it wouldn't look suspicious at all. “You’ve visited us on set before, baby.”

“Yeah, I know but that was before…”

“Before…” He scoots closer to you and brings his lips to your ear. “Before I made you my girl?” You coil in response to his breath tickling your neck, a big smile plastered on your face. You’re too flustered to respond, but his question doesn’t need one anyways. “Please come.” He says, moving back slightly so he can look at you with pleading eyes.

“Ok, I’ll come.” You say, but barely get the words out before he presses his lips onto yours in a kiss of appreciation.

⸻

You juggle your phone and a water bottle in one hand and flowers in the other. You had actually been to this set before, so you knew where the entrance was, but Jaehyun had asked his manager to show you the way anyway. Walking down the long hallway, you hear loud music coming from the end of the hall, which tells you they’re most likely in the middle of filming.

“Are we allowed to enter while they’re filming?” You ask his manager and he assures you that it’s fine. “The door isn’t within shot of the camera.”

You feel butterflies all of a sudden in your stomach. For some reason you just felt like as soon as you walk in there, everyone’s going to know that you’re in a relationship with Jaehyun, even though that thought was completely ridiculous.

Since they’re in the middle of filming a scene, you walked over with his manager to a good spot where you could see the boys, while staying out of the way. Your eyes didn’t leave Jaehyun as he sang along to the lyrics. You had hoped he would be wearing a suit that he always seemed to end up in in every music video, and he was, looking as handsome as ever. It was hard to gauge exactly what the music video concept was just from this one set, but they all looked amazing. You always loved it when they changed hair colors which is what Mark and Yuta had done.

You heard the director yell cut and Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Yuta made eye contact with you noticing your presence at the same time. You give them a smile as they walk over towards you.

You were about to give the flowers to Jaehyun, but got a little anxious about your whole secret relationship status, so you end up thrusting the bouquet into Yuta’s hands a little harsher than what you intended.

“Thank you for the flowers y/n, I didn’t know you were coming.” Yuta says, surprised.

You share a quick knowing smile with Jaehyun as you explain (lie) that you didn’t have anything to do today and you wanted to see them. As you’re all talking, makeup artists come up and do some touch ups, taking you away from the three boys. You stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before your eyes meet a shirtless Johnny. You were going to look away immediately, but two things were stopping you. One, Johnny always loved getting attention from you. And two, you could feel Jaehyun's eyes on you and your toxic trait was that you loved making him a little jealous every now and then.

You let your eyes linger on Johnny for a few moments as he tilts his head teasingly at you as Jaehyun watches the whole exchange. Johnny walks over to you, flexing his muscles jokingly on the way.

“Y/n, you know my poor heart can’t handle you staring at me like that.” You both laugh at his ridiculous statement, knowing that you could never be anything more than friends.

Jaehyun waits until the makeup artist is finished doing his finishing touches before he walks over to you and grabs your arm, pulling you away. Of course, this was a confusing sight to see for the boys, so all heads turned to you two.

“Jaehyun, what’s wrong? Y/n can stare at whoever she wants.” Johnny yells but in a joking manner.

“No, my girl should only be staring at me.” Jaehyun yells back. A little bit of a childish remark, but jaehyun could never properly think straight when he was feeling jealous.

“Jae, it was just a joke.” You say quietly to him.

You’re trying to calm him down, so you’re too busy to notice the fact that everyone heard what he just said.

“Wait did you just call y/n your girl?” Mark asks, surprised with a grin on his face.

You both stop in your tracks realizing that you had just blatantly admitted your relationship in front of everyone. Your first thought was to deny everything, but Jaehyun's laughter stops you from doing that. You turn to him and he presses his face in your chest, laughing some more. The boys all come up to you and make their little comments, making you burst out in laughter as well, feeling like a little girl just who got caught in a lie.

“Yo, I just knew something was going on with you two!” Mark exclaims, which promoted everyone to roll their eyes because there is absolutely no way he could have known. You’re trying to answer all their questions, when the director comes by, telling everyone that they will start filming again. “Thank God.” You say, thankful to get out of their endless questions.

“No you’re not getting off easy, we’re gonna take you out to dinner with us and you two can tell us exactly how this happened.” Johnny tells you, and you know that you’re in for a long night.

#jaehyun #nct 127 #nct #fluff #k-pop #imagine #nct scenarios #fanfic #fanfiction #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #established relationship

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love-toxin · 8 months

Note

Ellie i want astarion to fuck my mouth

im SO sorry queen i had to make the meow meow a lil emotionally vulnerable while im at it pls forgive me 🐸

(cws: gn!reader, vampire fuckery, bg3 spoilers, oral (m! receiving), teasing, possibly ooc astarion bc im only starting act 2 LOL, jealousy sex, deepthroating, a touch of feral/rough sex, facefucking, astarion is so in love it makes him look stupid <3)

word count: 3.9k

Once again, an evening spent with your mind somewhere else is interrupted by something you weren't expecting. The fire gleams from the pit and washes warmth across your face, a glow cast over your skin as you sit with your fingers white-knuckling a cold mug. Your companions are off on their own save for Scratch, who despite being a bit furrier than the tavern's normal patrons sleeps quietly at your feet. It barely took any convincing to let him in considering the rather stellar reputation you've earned yourselves–not to mention you're sharing a spot around the hearth with a couple frizzy-haired barbarians and a Tabaxi bard strumming out a tune on her lute. All seems peaceful, the noise just relaxed enough that you can let your mind wander about all manner of things. Ponder all sorts of worries you have yet to deal with on your adventure.

But it seems you're destined for an interruption. The back of your neck prickles from nowhere, a chill slithering coldly down your spine…from the corner of your eye you spot him, his pale hand vanishing behind a door on the second floor of the inn.

He's watching you. That's your cue, his methods of distraction always seeming so trivial and out of the way–he could always just come over and tap you on the shoulder. But Astarion likes the chase and isn't much of a fan of sincerity, so it's only natural for you to pass your half-empty mug off to one of the barbarians, get a bumbled shout of gratitude and a slap on the back, and slip away from the night's bustle of the tavern to thump your way up the winding stairs. All four of the rooms have been rented out by you and your party but one will sit empty tonight–aside from your gear, you're fairly certain your room will be unoccupied as you find other sleeping arrangements.

Tap tap. Just in case there's danger looming too close to comfort, you and your partner have a particular signal. Just as your knuckles come away from the door the tapping echoes back, tap tap, and you smother a grin as your fist closes around the knob for you to step inside.

The oak door thuds behind you at once and clicks softly as the latch falls in place. Nothing but the ire of a god or a drunken ogre could interrupt you now….but there's not much to interrupt if there's only one of you here, and as your eyes sweep the simple room you don't spot hide nor hair of your darling creature of the night. You've got a teasing remark on the tip of your tongue, ready to let loose-

"Don't. Move."

-But before you can even take a breath, there's a blade's edge digging into your throat and a cold, lean body pressed up against your backside. Effectively caught between a rock and a hard place. Prey. Astarion's whispered commands, however deep and punctuated they are, only send shivers of delight through you rather than true fear–and you find yourself struck with a dumb grin, not at all immune to the soft touch of his lips as they graze your tender neck from behind. He's got his arm pulled so snug around your waist it feels more like the grasp of a lover than a robbery, but that's because it is.

"Light on valuables, huh?" You tease over your shoulder, your hands braced against his arm as it holds the knife so dangerously close to your pulse point.

"You aren't. Show me what you've got, or I'll look myself." He murmurs back, breath cool as it puffs shallowly against your skin. It's somehow sweet when he tries to be so hard-to-get with you–maybe, you wonder, he doesn't yet realize how attached you are to him despite all you've been through already. Enough that you don't feel the bite of harsh, real danger in your peripheral, which sooner leads him to loosen his grip and push you forward with a palm on the base of your spine–all while tugging the knife out of the way, of course. If you asked him, he'd say it's because it would be a waste to spill such divine blood all over the ground.

As you turn yourself around to face him, you come eye-to-eye with the glaring tip of the knife yet again. Astarion is half-dressed, a bit disheveled, looking as though he's on the cusp of needing a drink again. Those carmine-coloured eyes echo some deep, violent desperation, one that shakes his voice as he commands you with total sincerity to strip.

"Will you join me?" You ask, your voice tinged with adoring hope. It irritates him, hope. Usually, at least. Usually it doesn't rub him as wrong when you're the one with hope in your heart, but evidently tonight is different if his scoff is anything to go by.

"That depends." His gaze flits away as he worries his lower lip between his teeth, not as careful about nicking it with his fangs as he usually is. Something surely must be wrong if he's acting so strange, especially since nothing has happened lately that's seemed to upset him…at least not that he's told you. It could be something else entirely, or something you don't have any idea about. Once he meets your eyes again, the hand he's gripping the dagger in lowers slowly. It was just a prop, after all–never a real threat. "...So long as you don't forget who you pledged your love to. Me. I won't stand for all this…this nonsense I've seen of late."

You cock your head in reply with a raised brow, questioning and curious of what on earth he could be referring to. Astarion rolls his eyes but it's most assuredly a gesture to mask how weak your sincerity makes him, your honesty painfully boring but, at the same time, endlessly endearing. With a sigh he tosses the knife aside in an arc, the handle flipping over blade for it to fall perfectly on the tip, sunk half an inch into the table by the bed. He's got his attention locked on it for long enough that the shuffling of fabric is what turns his head back towards you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips on instinct as he watches your clothing slip off your positively tantalizing figure.

"We're gonna have to pay for that, you know." Whatever you're saying goes right through both ears, the way your giggles shake your shoulders being all that he can focus on right now. He can barely tear his eyes away once you've wiggled out of your bottoms, and you're swift to remind him of his stare when you cheekily throw the travel-worn trousers in his direction. But all he does is grab a handful of them and press them to his face, not soaking in the scent as much as the undeniable warmth from just coming off your legs. They're only an introduction, however. They're tossed right back at you without pause, and fall to the floor in a heap that Astarion carelessly steps over to get to you. To get closer. He can never really get close enough, ever.

Even an inch away from you, though, your love does nothing to close that last shred of distance between you. Where he was eager to touch you just a few minutes ago, now he keeps his hands down like he's nervous about grazing you with just his fingertips. But despite that you can clearly see how he keeps eyeing your lips, so if he won't meet you the rest of the way, you simply have to do it for him. A quick peck on the chin is too much yet not enough–he endures a noticeable quiver through his body that he tries to stifle, but he can't resist raising a hand to your neck and tilting your head higher, just enough that you won't miss this time when he plants his mouth on yours. Deeper this time, much deeper, with his tongue making an appearance to slither from a cold embrace to your unbearably hot one.

You'd love nothing more than to take it further right here, right now, but there's something stopping Astarion that you'd like to get to the bottom of. Just as he's getting a little lost in your kiss, his eyes shut and fangs scraping at your delicate tongue as it moves with his, you break it off with a warm hand pressed to his chest and bring him back to your unspoken question.

"Azzy, what's wrong?"

"Don't call me that," He snaps back suddenly, brow furrowed in immediate annoyance. He doesn't move away though–clearly you're a bit too enticing for him to rethink the embrace he has you in, nor the fact that you're bare and warm for nobody else but him. "So childish. Or did you simply forget my name already?"

"I could never forget you. Now tell me what's wrong, Az. You're acting weird."

This time, he just shoots you a glare that could kill you on the spot. It's damning, his fury terrifying enough written so plainly on his face….but it also stirs up something within you that won't be sated by words alone.

"Last time, darling. I'm warning you. And it's nothing. Just…" A shake of his head sends his perfect curls flying about, each one falling back into place more perfectly than he's coming across right now. "...I wish you had been around when I was alive. That's all."

"What do you mean?"

"The others are all…alive. Breathing. Warm. Some of them look at you like–like you aren't with me. Like they could sweep you off your feet without even a thought." He says it with so much defeat in his tone, so gently with so soft an edge that you almost can't hear it with the muffled sounds of the tavern under your feet. It's rare to hear him sound so…sad. It's a bit odd to think, but he often comes off younger than he is when he speaks this way. "Maybe, if…if I was with you, then…" He huffs, flinching away from your hand as it grazes his cheek. Yet, within a moment, he's turning back and nuzzling his face into your palm like he can't get enough, his hand coming up to brace your delicate wrist as if he's afraid you really will pull away from him. "...If I was with you, maybe I would never be what I am now."

"But I like who you are now." You insist, the smile slowly returning as it creases the edges of your lips. "I love you, Astarion. I mean it, I always will. Forever."

"Forever is a very long time, my sweet." You shoot him that naive look like you don't really get the gravity of what you're saying. You don't, on second thought–you haven't suffered through two immortal centuries like he has. "...Fine. You love me? Prove it, then."

His tone grows dark, as does the once-vibrant colour in his eyes. Something swirls about behind them like a shadow in the water of a blood-red lake.

"On your knees."

Huh?

"I said," The air grows hot around you despite the chill of his body on yours, a purr rising in the back of his throat as he pushes very gently on your shoulder. "Get on your knees."

And with his command hanging in the air, you follow so obediently you give him a pleasing shiver down the length of his spine and back. You sink down to the floor in one long, fluid motion, barely breaking eye contact as you brace yourself against his pale thighs. They don't even need your touch to come undressed, his pants falling with his thumbs hooked into the waist and tugged down just as easily as you did. He wastes no time in stepping out of them and kicking them away, but he doesn't really have the option to when you're already mesmerized by the image of what lies beneath–once the tip of his flushed, heavy cock sprung free of catching on his belt, you had your gaze glued to it like it's the first time you've ever laid eyes on him.

"I'll never get tired of this view." He smirks, all pompous and smug with no idea of the test of self-control he's about to face. Because although you may be the one beneath him, where you belong in this scenario, the haze over your eyes as you stare openly should be enough of a tell that your mouth is already watering. Astarion's gentle humming hits your ears as he takes himself in hand, tugging out a few slow strokes for your entertainment before he settles on holding it by the base, and guides it down towards your lips. He's so pale everywhere else that the ruddiness of the rubbery head is almost uncanny, but the pale pink blush that spreads throughout gives his flesh such a delicate look that you can't help but dive right in.

One slow, tentative lick up the tip, and Astarion has it written all over his face–he isn't going to be finished until you've got some bruises, that's for sure. You try another and he finally gets a grip on your head, fingers woven through your hair to keep you steady and to calm his trembling hands. Those soft kitten licks are always his weakness, each one a bit braver and deeper but peppered with hot little kisses in between. You press them all down the shaft and back, smearing the stiff flesh with spit and giving him a tongue bath that feels like it never ends–not that he wants it to, though. Those shaky breaths overhead are a telltale sign otherwise.

"More," He purrs, half-needy and half-demanding in the same breath. You kiss over his knuckles that still grip the base of his shaft, and can't help but smile up at him as he quietly taps the head against your lips, tap tap. Twice he knocks and begs silently for entry, and soon he releases a sigh from the depths of his belly as you swallow him down and welcome him in. "Show me what I deserve."

Astarion certainly doesn't need to tell you twice, he barely needs to tell you once. As soon as he's settled snugly where he belongs, he lets go of the grasp he had and watches in awe as you swallow. Every inch he thinks you can't take more of disappears inside your mouth, slid further and further until he starts to curve into the bend of your throat and loses the last vestiges of his willpower. All his strength saps into you like his teeth on your flesh–where he stole your power in your blood, you take it back just as easily with a flick of your tongue and the incessant squeeze of your throat.

"Getting impatient? Already? We've only just begun, love." You can feel the heat of his eyes shift as they turn further downward, no clothing able to serve as a boundary to hide the needy grind of your thighs together as you kneel. The reaction of your body to his rather lewd commentary doesn't help you either, and in one sweep of his gaze over your exposed figure he can see everything you're thinking like it's written across your skin in ink. "Don't stop rubbing those legs together. Show me just how badly you want me, darling."

It might be more embarrassing if you didn't know Astarion had seen it all already, and that he would most definitely be seeing much more of everything below in the future. The fact that you trust him with those fangs around all your sensitive areas is touching…and it also means he trusts you enough to be a little rougher when you're returning the favour. You've degraded yourself to a humiliating extent by being with him, by getting down on your knees for him no less, and with him wrapped so tight and cozy in your throat he's got a look like he's ready to make himself at home.

With a moan slipped in between the pauses, your beloved curls his thumbs down behind the shell of each ear, his palms laid flat against your temples so he won't let go so easily. The drawing back is easy, his cock parting less and less of the space inside until he's barely brought it back to the tip–but just as you're getting in a taste of his salty sweat and bitterly rich arousal as it sits heavy on your tongue, Astarion flashes you a wink and braces your face for impact as he thrusts back in. Your heat coddles every inch of him and shakes loose a string of raspy moans from his chest, while the scrape of your nails against his thighs and your soft, squirming tongue pressed flat against his girth only has him burning hotter. The first time is a tight fit for sure, but as he enters into a steady rhythm of pulling out and gliding past your sweet, stretched lips, each buck of his hips grows smoother and it gets easier with time. Sooner than either of you expected, you barely have to focus at all–you can sit nicely and let your attention wander up to his lusty gaze, idly suckling at whatever he manages to stuff inside for as long as he's able to keep it there.

"I know it's on your mind already, but tell me I'm beautiful, my sweet." Astarion croons like a cat to a mouse, speaking so sweetly like he isn't still ravaging the most tender areas of your throat, and fucking away any possibility of you speaking properly for the next little while. And he shows no signs of stopping, your squeaky, muffled moans as he grinds the heft of his cock against your tongue too delicious for him to think about it. But eventually he does, managing somehow to pry himself off of your beautiful, fucked-out, spit-slicked face to give you a chance. "Go on. Speak."

"Please," You croak, head hazy and your face dark with warmth. "You're so beautiful, Astarion, please. I love you."

"Will you love me forever?" You nod, the answer barely a hair's breadth from your swollen lips.

"For eternity."

Astarion takes a moment, a pause that lasts a lifetime or more, but the genuine joy that starts to spread across his smile could keep you alive for a century of centuries. It's not one you see often or ever see, but that makes it just as precious as any gold or treasure you might come across in your lifetime.

"...Eternity it is then, darling." One of those cold hands moves to stroke your hair, his touch fleeting yet his grip tight with desire as you lean in for a kiss–not on his lips, but rather the tip of his dick, of which is absolutely soaked by your influence…and of his readiness for the end, as you can see by the veins pulsing up the sides and the whole length twitching with anticipation. You can feel those little spasms through your tongue as it meets his slit, Astarion's chest heaving and fangs glinting as he gives in to the urges to nestle himself back inside. As much as he wants a proper kiss, he'll get one as soon as those frantic hips slow completely instead of picking up speed as he meets your delectable heat again. He could be using you for his pleasure alone for another two hundred years, and in your endless desire to please him you're not sure you'd oppose it–you know for a fact that once the centuries had passed, Astarion would be spending twice as long with his head down between your legs.

"One day, I'll tear that wretch of a vampire's heart out through his stomach," Astarion growls out of nowhere, suddenly sounding completely feral in the span of a moment. The ferocity with which he's fighting the tightness of your throat increases too, thought not much more than he already was–if you touched your neck you would feel the bulge of him sunk so deep he can see it, the rise and fall of that soft flesh tightening the knot in the pit of his belly. "-And we won't ever spend a day apart. I swear."

All you can do is ride with the pace he's offering, your throat cinching tight like a coinpurse the more he rams it with the full strength of his hips, nails digging into your scalp as he batters you rabidly without ever losing his grip. Soon, his query of "Ready, darling?" barely meets your ears, your attempt at not choking on each thrust and somehow sucking in a breath here and there too important for your survival.

And in a matter of moments, you're granted reprieve while also left hollow and empty at the same time, Astarion's fist yanking you back by the hair as he sucks in a huge, deep breath into his lungs. The twist of his other hand stroking himself down to the last few beats comes close to your face, your soft gasps for air the perfect background for your name to trickle out of Astarion's mouth–and with such a deep moan it rattles you through your blood down to your bones, you kneel and wait eagerly as your partner lets everything go for you. His balls tighten and squeeze as the pressure of that knot inside him snaps, and he watches with a devoted gleam in his eyes as you wear every rope of pearly cum he milks out for you in that orgasm that shakes him to the core.

"Look at that," He murmurs, voice nearly as wrecked and raspy as yours will be by tomorrow. "Painted like a canvas fit for the gods. Gorgeous."

If he could, he would save this image of you in a frame forever; your sweet, smiling face marred with the essence of him, your hair pulled back by his sweaty fingers but your eyes filled with so much love. Love, genuine and sincere, your giggles loopy and tired as you come down from the high, yet without any post-sex remorse that he fears each and every time you climb into his bed with him. It stays the same when he cleans you off and persists even once you kiss him, knees so wobbly you fall back into the sheets with the slightest push. You won't ever let him free, kiss after kiss pressed to his cold mouth as he climbs over you. Your ankles hook over his waist before he knows it, your smile desperate to be wiped off your face again once he chases that heat for the second, third, fourth, fifth, tenth time, until the sun rises and you're reminded of the downsides of entertaining a lover who never needs rest.

You might tell him you love him again when morning comes, despite the exhaustion tugging down your eyelids and the sweat pouring down your aching back. You probably will, knowing how naive and sincere you tend to be even when you shouldn't. Even so, this time…Astarion might not be able to pretend he doesn't feel exactly the same way.

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #ellie writes #anons #3k

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g1rld1ary · 3 months

Text

bloody genius ; anthony lockwood x fem!reader

➻ rushed to get this out before I go out tonight (wish me luck lols) but am pretty fond of it !!

➻ word count: 1686

➻ synopsis: after a long night of sifting through research for an impossible case with lockwood, you do something you didn't quite mean to

➻ warnings: light mentions of series typical murder/violence, kissing, idiots in love

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You groaned, tipping back in your chair and rubbing your eyes, trying to make them see straight. You and Lockwood had been pouring over photocopied newspaper articles, floor plans and assorted research for hours and you weren’t getting any closer to stringing any of it together. With Lockwood & Co steadily improving their reputation, the company was getting more and more cases with shorter and shorter timeframes. To combat this influx of cases and the consequent research that needed completing, you’d all decided to split the load where possible. This meant that currently George and Lucy were in the library researching one case whilst you and Lockwood had shut yourselves in the kitchen to struggle through another.

You supposed you had the better deal, though, supplied with easy access to tea, the thinking cloth, and, of course, Lockwood. He was your secret favourite out of your coworkers-turned-family, though if you asked Lucy she’d say it was no secret at all. Regardless, that brought you to the current moment where the thinking cloth was filled with nonsensical lines following trains of thought, all edges punctuated with a frankly ridiculous number of question marks.

Lockwood himself looked almost as frustrated as you felt, but you could tell he was trying to hide it and save face. He caught you staring and flashed a smile, but it lacked its usual charm when his eye bags were more pronounced than usual.

“Hey,” He said softly, putting his hand over yours to stop you drawing stress doodles — the latest one a crudely drawn murder scene, “We’ll get it soon, just gotta find the connection between it all.”

“Sure, Lockwood.” You tried for a smile but it came out as more of a grimace and Lockwood could see the exhaustion etched into your features. He frowned, more concerned for your wellbeing than the case at the moment.

“Maybe you’ve done enough for tonight? Go get some sleep and we can pick back up in the morning?”

“Are you going to go to bed?” You asked, already sure of the answer, “I’m not leaving you to do this on your own, not this time.” He opened his mouth to argue but you shut him up with a glare. He held up his hands in light-hearted surrender. As an alternative Lockwood suggested a break; only a few minutes, but enough for you to make two new mugs of steaming tea and him to crack open a new packet of biscuits. “I’ll even let you break the biscuit rule,” He stage whispered, ducking out of the kitchen to check on Lucy and George and refill their own stash of snacks.

You watched him go, smiling softly. You loved evenings like this — well not like this where trains of thought didn’t quite make it to the station and you had the infuriating feeling of knowledge being held just out of reach, but nights where you were all home and together. You liked them even more when it meant you got to spend time with Lockwood and he got like this; treating you just a little bit differently to George or Lucy, offering you extra biscuits and giving you that soft smile, the one that made your heart flutter in a way it probably shouldn’t when looking at your boss. It fed your delusions of one day telling him how you feel, sure, but the lightness of his attention overpowered the inevitable heartbreak you’d face when he got a date that wasn’t you.

He returned with a confident grin, snapping you out of your stupor. You buried yourself in a new file, scanning for anything that could make sense of the mess of a case you were given. Maybe a Type Two, could be a poltergeist or not, who knows who the ghost was — the whole thing was ridiculous and you had no idea why Lockwood would even take it, but he said he felt sorry for the poor old man who came to the doorstep of 35 Portland Row. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for what felt like hours, knee-deep in paper.

Your eyes were glazing in and out of focus until you caught a snippet of something that had you gasping and tumbling out of your chair, standing frenetically in front of Lockwood looking ready to perform.

“What if I told you,” You said grinning, “That your dear old man had a sealed criminal record until a few years ago? For being a suspect in a murder case no less!” Lockwood was solely focused on you now, dark eyes searching your face for more information. You were no less enthusiastic, eyes scanning the police report quickly for the relevant information. “He was a suspect in the murder of a Charlotte Black back in the 50s. Her sister alleged that the two were involved but the police found no evidence of his involvement, nor of their relationship at all, with the exception of two letters the sister sent during the time of the investigation. Officers on the case said his apartment was ‘severely lacking a female touch’ — ouch — and said to them he was definitely not in a relationship. The record was sealed because the allegations had a dire impact on his accounting firm!” You were buzzing despite the grim subject matter, as you’d finally found the link that could tie the case together.

Lockwood was similarly ecstatic. “Obviously the relationship had to be a secret for whatever reason which was why there’s no marriage certificate or record of letters between them. The letter I was looking at before must’ve been from this sister, it detailed her desire for independence and her interest in his business. She found out about his shady numbers—” He jumped up to grab a letter of complaint over botched figures from a client, “He got mad and killed her! Y/n you’re a bloody genius!” You flushed at the compliment.

“And she’s here now because he’s coming out of retirement, he bragged about it when you were hearing his case! God, it would just be great if we had, like, one more piece of evidence, just to confirm they knew each other,” You sighed, clenching your fingers at the single hole in the puzzle.

The door opened suddenly and George appeared, holding a small folded piece of paper.

“I think this might be from your case, not ours — odd looking couple,” George said, popping the photo on the edge of the dining table, giving a quizzical look at the two of you standing in the middle of the kitchen before heading back to the library. You and Lockwood exchanged a look, almost too scared to take a peek, it was too perfect. You grabbed the photo of Charlotte Black her sister had attached to the letter, plus the one of the man that you’d found in a local newspaper in the archives and laid them both out on the table for comparison.

Lockwood sucked in a nervous breath before slowly peeling open the photo. You couldn’t contain your joy, it was them! The whole night was suddenly worth it, the two of you jumping around the kitchen like little kids on Christmas. One second you were doing a stupid victory dance and the next your lips had pressed themselves to Lockwood’s. The moment you’d become cognisant of what had happened you stepped back, feeling your heart plummet to your toes. This was not how you’d imagined that would happen. Plus, Lockwood’s unusually stoic face was igniting your anxiety, cold spreading through every branch of your veins.

“Oh my God,” You breathed, willing your legs to work, “I am so sorry, Anthony.” Your body caught up to your brain and you headed to the door until you were pulled back, a hand on your waist twisting you to face him again. And then his lips were on yours with purpose this time, the hand not on your waist finding its way to cup your jaw. When your brain was done short circuiting you matched his fervour tenfold, bringing your hands up to rest on his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt to bring him impossibly closer.

You only pulled away when you were at genuine risk of passing out, unable to conjure a single word. Lockwood gazed at you with glossy, blown out pupils. That, mixed with the pink blush on his cheeks and swollen lips created your favourite ever version of Anthony Lockwood — an image you hoped would be privately yours from now on.

“So, is this where I ask to take you on a proper date, love?” He asked, his smile melting your heart into a puddle in his hand. You couldn’t let him have all the fun, though, and willed yourself to produce a teasing grin.

“Seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” Your eyes strayed to the clock on the wall that showed an inappropriately early hour of the morning, “I think we both ought to get some sleep, tomorrow’ll be a big job. Goodnight, Anthony.” You punctuated it with a soft kiss to his cheek before slipping out of the room to silently scream as you bound up the stairs, victory dance making a reappearance behind your safely closed door.

Anthony was left standing in the kitchen like a fool, hand sitting softly where you’d kissed him. A lovesick smile passed his face, thoughts of the impending case long gone from his brain, and in their place sat pictures of you and a looping memory of you slotting your lips between his. He wasn’t sure how long he was standing there basking in your light, but Lucy walked past to drop her mug in the sink, shooting Lockwood a knowing look before heading up to the attic. Lockwood found himself giggling uncharacteristically, giddy with the glee of finally telling you how he’d felt since you first walked through the door of 35 Portland Row.

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xxsugarbonesxx · 5 days

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Librarian Miguel x Flower Shop Owner

tags: tooth rotting amounts of fluff and some suggestive bits. No one is spider man in this AU, mainly just character set up stuff :3 and no gender is specified for reader any1 can read it

hopefully this will be me getting back into writing since i took a break from it lol (this was done in 30-40 minutes at 2am so sorry if it isnt too high quality) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In the little rural town of Nueva, there was a library, it was owned and operated by the single hottest man in town, and probably the whole state, Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel O’Hara was a simple man really, he ironed his clothes, did sudoku on the train and ate a bagel with light cream cheese, an assortment of raspberries, blackberries and blueberries every morning every day for breakfast.

He took his coffee dark with the littlest splash of cream and one sugar cube. Two sugar cubes would be just reckless. Coffee could be substituted with Camellia flower tea when he was out of coffee, peppermint for when he had a migraine.

All the women in town would sing his praises to another. Little was known about him besides that after the death of his daughter he moved to Nueva and opened his library. In front of his library was a small community garden and a bench dedicated to his dear daughter by the double doors.

No one brought it up, no one asked, and he liked it that way. He liked the simplicity of Nueva. The air was cleaner, the people there warmer and the ringing in his ears seemingly disappeared when he moved there.

He liked to keep his library neat and tidy, he had plenty of rules set in place to follow…children's books in the front and adult books in the back. The spicer content was shelved by the cook books so no kids found them. You are to only use the various lamps in the library, never the big light. It totally ruined the cozy atmosphere he had set up.

Jazz, Frank Sinatra, and Selena Quintanilla was the only music allowed to be played, he didn’t like any other types of music. Coffee was free as long as you returned your mug to the table his coffee maker was on once you were done. No talking louder than a whisper, and only pet the library cat if you had all your shots. That was mostly a joke, but Miguel didn’t want people who weren’t up to date on their immunizations touching his cat.

It was almost closing time, and there were only a few people left. The familiar cast of characters Miguel had come to know now wandering the maze of shelves. Ben Riley was using one of the community monitors. Sending emails back and forth to his girlfriend in Canada. Only god knew if she was real or not.

When Miguel asked why Ben just bought his own laptop or computer to converse with his girlfriend, Ben explained he didn’t want to go through the trouble of setting up a laptop when he could just walk to the library to use one for free.

Miguel couldn’t help but hold back the fattest eye roll known to man when he heard that.

Peter Parker was looking for cookbooks for the dinner he was gonna make to win his ex wife back. Stressing over the perfect dish to make as young Mayday Parker debated whether she wanted to check out GoodNight Moon or Skippyjon Jones for her bedtime story tonight.

Then there was Pavitr Prabhakar and Gayatri Singh. Debatably his most adorable regulars. Miguel would watch the two teenagers stumble through their awkward study dates, he couldn't help but feel the littlest bit proud of Pav when he finally worked up the courage and kissed her.

But his favorite, hands down, was you. You owned the little flower shop across the street from his library next to the bakery. On the opening, you had brought him a bunch of sunflowers tied with a pearl white ribbon as a gift. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he was actually allergic to sunflowers and graciously took the generous gift with a stuffy nose and kind smile.

You would come waltzing in, batting your eyelashes like you were auditioning for a mascara commercial. At first he had no interest in romance, but you were just so…kind, caring, loving, compassionate. You were so slow and soft spoken, giving him the space he needed while he grieved and was there afterwards to hug him and dry his tears.

At the beginning, you’d only stop by and help him in the library or check out a novel or two, but as you became a frequent visitor, you stopped coming just to help him…and started coming just to see him.

He remembered how one day, you had arrived at the library as usual. A perplexed look on your darling face with your hands behind your back. You had spent all of the night before carefully crafting a special bouquet of lilies and tulips. Making sure there wasn't anything in it he was allergic to.

After dancing around the subject, you had slowly confessed her feelings to him.

The next hour was spent in the back room of the library. Feverishly groping another and kissing frantically, your glasses kept sliding against each other’s as you both ran to rip each other's clothes off another's bodies.

Miguel was still that simple man he was all those years ago when he moved to the sleepy town of Nueva. The idea of building a real relationship with someone scared him from how many times he'd been hurt in the past and the fresh wounds from the death of his child.

But now he has you. He has someone to come home to besides the empty walls of his little cottage home. He has a significant other to fill that void and to lift him up, someone to be his lock screen picture.

Someone to tell all the things he’s learned from the regulars at the library. He told you about Ben getting catfished, Peter winning MJ over with homemade ratatouille and a promise, about Pav and Gayatri’s kiss while the both of you snuggled up on the couch over a bottle of strawberry wine.

You'd both started the relationship a little rocky, not knowing whether this was right with the things Miguel was working through then. But it soon proved to be the best decision either of you could have made.

He had your wedding picture next to Gabriela's school picture day portrait on his desk.

His favorite parts of his day were when you’d walk from your shop to the library on your lunch break to eat together, and in the evenings when he'd read the book you were currently reading out loud to you in the evenings, before going to sleep together.

He was still that simple man, but now he’d share his bagels with you. He’d offer to iron your clothes for you, and even when you didn’t understand, he showed you how to play sudoku on the long train rides. Even though you were just nodding along to hear him talk about something he enjoyed.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #2099<3 #spiderman 2099 #writing #across the spiderverse #fluff #miguel ohara fluff #just cutesy reader being cutesy w their man #tooth rotting fluff

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lostgirlmuseum · 7 months

Text

🐳Chapter 3

Mini Series Masterlist ❤️

Summary: Bucky and Miles fight for your attention takes a turn for the worse. You can't put up with this anymore.

Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky x f!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: Honestly probably pacing problems 😭, Miles being awful and saying disgusting things, less funnies in this one, things get a bit tense

A/N: p.s. the moment in the bathroom and the bonfire is what inspired this entire thing lol. I don't have a taglist, but you can follow updates at @lostgirl-library instead

(Divider credit: @firefly-graphics)

DAY 3 - SUNDAY 🏄🏻

Bucky was compelled into the kitchen by the smell of bacon. Vision was standing by the stove in a “Kiss the Synthezoid” apron, and Wanda was standing just behind him in a “Kiss the Witch” apron, watching over the cooking process. You were sitting at the barstool cradling a mug in both hands. Bucky took the seat next to you and nudged you good morning. You smiled back at him. It appeared they had just been talking about Wanda and Vision's early night departure tonight to make it back home in time for a friends birthday.

“Good Morning, Bucky,” Vision greeted at the same time Wanda threw a small wave.

“Mornin,” He yawned.

“Nice to see you up. Bacon?” The red-head asked, gesturing to the pan.

“If you have enough, I wouldn’t mind some, thanks.”

“How is Miles feeling?” Vision asked over his shoulder to you as Wanda started plating the bacon.

“He’s feeling a lot better. He’s just resting right now.” You nodded, bringing the warm drink to your lips.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, poor guy,” you continued, wiping your upper lip, “the rain last night wasn’t helping either, but I think he eventually fell asleep around 2 A.M.”

Wanda gave you a sympathetic smile and handed Bucky a plate of bacon.

“Do you think he’ll be feeling well enough to go out to dinner tonight? I was talking to Vis and we were thinking about making reservations at a fancy restaurant for all of us, just a couple miles away.”

“That sounds like fun! I’m sure he’ll be back to normal by then.”

“Seeing as tonight will be our last night here, are we going to have a bonfire and participate in s’mores?” Vision asked.

“Can you believe Vis has never made a s’more before?” Wanda looked at Vision amazed.

“Well, I have no use for food.” He shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

“Bonfire on the beach, what could be better?” You piped, lightly punching Bucky’s arm in excitement.

“Not much.” He conceded.

Bucky could smell the trouble before he saw it. This morning was too peaceful, of course Miles had to ruin it by joining.

“Miles, good morning,” you smiled.

That’s not your real smile, Bucky thought. Shut up. I’m just reading into things.

After a short chorus of “good mornings” to which Bucky contributed a grunt—what? That’s honestly the best he could do, especially so early in the day—Miles leaned over your shoulder and gave you a chaste kiss.

“Have you brushed your teeth yet this morning?” You grimaced.

“No,” Miles smirked, leaning in for another kiss.

You dodged it, saying, “Your breath stinks,”

“Babe,” Miles groaned.

Bucky didn’t want to see anymore. He took his plate and silently left the room. He didn’t see you staring after him.

The rest of the day was calm. Bucky had spent a good deal of it walking up and down the beach, shuffling his feet in the sand, and inspecting something every so often. Miles had mostly continued to take it easy, you napped and hung out in the hammock on the porch, and Wanda and Vision took a trip to visit the hotel and take advantage of the pools and lazy river.

Eventually, dinner time rolled around, and the group got dressed and left for their early reservation at “Gilded Reef,” the most recommended restaurant in town, according to Wanda.

It was hard for Bucky not to stare at you in your gorgeous white lace halter dress. He found himself glued to the single pearl that sat on a string across your neck, wondering if it was real.

Wanda also looked beautiful in her teal dress next to Vision who sported a similar teal suit.

You convinced Bucky to bring a nice outfit in case the occasion arose, and he was glad he listened, unlike Miles. Because while Bucky was looking dashing in his slacks and white dress shirt, Miles looked out of place with his palm tree and flamingo themed Hawaiian shirt. To Miles’ credit, he did put in the effort of gelling his hair back, but it really made him look like more of a douche.

Idiot.

The five of you were placed at a circular table and given menus.

After the drinks arrived, and the food was ordered, there came a lull in the conversation. Miles, of course, took the opportunity to try and embarrass Bucky.

“I saw you walking around the beach by yourself for a long while today. What were you doing?”

“It’s nothing really,” Bucky shrugged, reaching into his front pocket, “I was just looking for one of these.”

Bucky pulled out a small disk and held it out for everyone to see.

“Oh my God, Bucky, you found a sand dollar? And it’s fully intact!” You gasped, grabbing Bucky’s hand and bringing it to you for a closer look.

Wanda made a couple of her own noises of admiration while swirling her wine.

“Cool, right?” Bucky said, trying to contain his smile at your reaction.

“The coolest! Look Miles,” you pointed to Bucky’s hand.

“Yes, very neat.” He grit.

“I’ll hold onto it for now, but when we get back we can add it to your collection.” Bucky suggested, sliding it carefully back into his pocket.

Your jaw dropped.

“You’re letting me keep it?”

“Of course,”

How could I not give it to you? I would give you anything, do anything, just to see you light up again.

Dinner was filled with great food and fun stories, but eventually it got late enough that the group knew they should be getting back. Wanda had tricked everyone into letting her pay the check, Miles told everyone he’d be right back, and Bucky went to wash his hands before leaving.

But as Bucky made his way to the restroom, he noticed a familiar Hawaiian shirt flirting with a waitress.

Motherfucker.

Bucky didn’t say anything as he ‘accidentally’ bumped into Miles while sliding past him.

He didn’t bother to look back for his reaction, and continued his way to the men’s restroom.

Bucky had just turned the faucet on when the door opened.

“Hey, bud,” Miles smirked.

Bucky kept quiet, and focused on washing his hands.

“That girl was cute, huh?”

Miles made his way behind Bucky, and stared at him through the glass.

Bucky grunted.

“You should’ve seen her ass,”

Bucky looked up and glared at Miles through the mirror so hard he felt the start of a headache.

“You know I’m not intimidated by you, right?” Miles snickered.

Bucky grabbed the paper towel and dried his hands.

“You know what, Miles?” He started, calmly throwing the paper in the trash can. He finally turned to face him, and casually rested on the marble counter of the sink.

“Humor me.” He rolled his eyes.

“You act so smug, thinking you’ve won. You get off on thinking you’ve bested me. Because you got the girl.” Bucky stood up straighter and crossed his arms, speaking with an even tone. “But there’s one thing you just don’t know.”

“And what’s that, Barnes?” Miles asked, and mirrored Bucky’s crossed arms.

“You might be her boyfriend, but she loves me in ways she will never love you.” Bucky let it linger in the air a moment before continuing.

“She loves me in the only way that matters. Because when she finds a new book she likes, she calls me. She tells me of how it reminds her of me, or summer, or childhood. And when she’s struggling, and she needs someone to pull her out of the darkness, she calls me, not you. I’m the one who talks her down, holds her close, and reminds her of how powerful she is. And when she’s bored out of her mind, even if you’re around, she calls me.”

Bucky took a calculated step forward. Miles took two steps back.

“I’m the one who knows all of her secrets, who held her when she couldn’t breathe, who was there for her, and still is there for her when she needs me. So I promise you, when you inevitably fuck things up with her,” Bucky continued stepping closer, “because trust me, you will fuck up, she’ll call me.”

Miles bumped into the wall. He had run out of space to back up, and Bucky was now inches away from his face, towering over him, caging him like the animal he was.

“And I’ll be the one comforting her, kissing the tears away, and telling her everything will be alright. Not you.” Bucky took Miles' silence as an invitation to go on. “You’re right, Sweets,” Bucky started, acting as if he was conversing with you, “Miles is an asshole. He’s a fucking idiot for treating you that way, because no sane person would even flirt with the idea of losing you.”

“Shut up,” Miles wobbled, finally gaining an ounce of confidence after Bucky had already turned for the exit.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and turned back around.

“They say there is no such thing as perfect,” Bucky shook his head, “but I swear to any and every god listening, she is as fucking close to perfect as there is. That’s why I’m not worried about you, Miles. I’m worried about what you’ll do to her.”

And with that, Bucky left the room.

The drive home was quick. The sun was only half-way down by the time Wanda got the bonfire started. Five logs were set up around the fire in a circle, all of them taken except one. You were still inside grabbing the s’mores materials. Between Bucky and Miles sat an empty log, your seat, and across from yours was Wanda and Vision. Bucky saw you step off of the back porch and stood up to meet you halfway.

“Hey—” You started, but squealed when Bucky picked you up, and swung you over his left shoulder. “Bucky, what are you doing?” You laughed, trying not to drop the marshmallows.

“You’re taking too long,” he joked, and started carrying you over to your seat. He made sure to watch for Miles' reaction. He was satisfied with the tick in Miles’ jaw.

“S’mores time!” You cheered once Bucky put you down on your seat. You started handing out the sticks and marshmallows. Everyone gathered in close and held their sticks over the fire. Except for Vision, he claimed he didn’t trust the marshmallow to not get stuck in a gear, or something.

“Damnit,” you cursed, after you dropped your nearly complete s’more in the sand, chocolate and everything.

“Here,” both Bucky and Miles said at the same time, handing you theirs.

“That’s okay, I can just make another one,”

“I’ll make another one, you can go ahead and have mine,” Bucky offered.

“No, babe, you can take mine,” Miles insisted, practically shoving it into your hands.

“Oh—okay, thank you,” you stuttered.

Bucky held back a scowl.

“Y/N,” Wanda spoke, pausing to lick off some chocolate that stuck to her lips, “what was that story you were trying to tell me about earlier?”

“Oh yeah!” You glowed. “So when I was a teenager, and I was working at this grocery store, there was this one time I was in charge of cleaning the bathrooms, and that included the mens. While I was cleaning one of the toilets, I saw something move, and I freaked out. It was a freaking lizard in the toilet!”

“Oh yeah, and then you found that it had laid eggs in the urinals,” Miles quickly added, and laughed.

“I was getting there,” you briefly pouted.

What kind of game are you playing Miles? You think you know her stories more than me? I know these too.

“Okay, fine, new story.” You took another bite of your s’more. “One time, I was behind the register, and this older woman skipped the line behind the cashier counter and came right up to me wearing this heavy wool sweater with a christmas tree on it. Keep in mind, this is the middle of June. She turns around at the line of people behind her, shushes them when they start complaining, and turns back to me with a worried look on her face. So then this woman tells me that her—”

“That her credit card had been stolen on her way into the store—” Bucky jumped in.

“No,” you shook your head, “it was actually a man who had his card stolen, and this is a different story—”

“Yeah, the one where the woman told you that she worked for the Illuminati as an undercover banker—” Miles interrupted.

“Wrong, I’m talking about when—”

“When a woman came up to you and challenged you to a thumb war for free groceries,” Bucky said.

“No, I—”

“The one where the woman walked behind the counter and started chanting that pumpkin spice lattes should be all season!” Bucky and Miles chanted in almost perfect synchronization.

“No, that’s a different story. Jeez, can’t a girl tell a story around here?” You awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry, go on.” Bucky apologized.

“Anyways, so this woman tells me that she’s concerned because she’s noticed that her son—”

Miles jumped up in excitement and interrupted you.

“Because her son goes to the store everyday for hours, and she was concerned he was a part of some druggy group, but it turned out that her son was your manager Pat, and that’s how you confirmed Pat was still living with his mom, and that he lied about being uber-successful and owning his own party boat and mansion!”

Everyone went silent.

“Way to ruin the story, Miles.” You sighed.

Wanda and Vision shared a look between each other.

“I’m getting drinks, anyone want anything?” You stood and tried to brush the sand off your legs with your dejection.

“We’re okay,” Wanda nodded, referencing herself and Vision.

“No thanks,” Miles said.

Bucky didn’t say anything.

“Okay.”

You made your way inside, and Bucky aptly followed.

“I’m sorry Miles is being an ass.” Bucky left the back door cracked and followed you to the refrigerator.

“You kind of are too. What’s up with everyone tonight? I feel like I can’t finish a thought without being interrupted.” You grabbed a beer and shut the fridge door.

Bucky relented.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you sighed, and shook your head, “don’t apologize Bucky. I’m sorry I called you an ass, you aren’t. I’m just frustrated.”

Miles entered the kitchen and shut the door behind him.

“Babe, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You gave a weak smile, and grabbed the bottle opener.

“Here, I can help you open that.” Miles gestured.

“It’s fine, I got it.” You said.

“No, really, I got this. I’m really good at it,” Miles started reaching for the bottle.

“I can open my own damn beer,” you slammed your fist on the counter.

“Okay, okay.” Miles held his hands up in defense and backed off a little.

“Ugh,” you groaned, dragging your hands across your face, “I’m going to go take a shower.”

Miles perked up.

“Gimme a minute and I’ll join–-”

“Alone. I’m taking a shower alone.” You emphasized.

You left the beer on the counter and trudged out. Miles turned to see Bucky staring right back at him.

“What are you looking at, dick?”

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugged.

“Wipe that smirk off your face or I’ll fucking do it myself.”

“No you won’t.”

“That’s it, I’ve had enough of you.” Miles put his fists up. “Hit me. C’mon, hit me. I dare you.”

“You dare me? What are you, twelve?”

“Just hit me.”

“I’m not going to hit you.” Bucky stated calmly.

“Scared?”

“Me? Scared of you? Have you seen yourself? You’re as strong as you are good at keeping your girlfriend happy, which in case you haven’t noticed, you’re pretty shit at.”

“You fucking—” Miles started running and very quickly reached Bucky, but Bucky was faster. He dodged out of the way, leaving Miles nearly tripping onto the floor.

“Watch it,” Bucky warned, but Miles was already up again, and headed for him.

Miles swung at him, but Bucky caught the punch and sent Miles stumbling back.

“Miles! Miles, stop! Bucky!” Your voice called, and Bucky swung his head to locate you, giving Miles just enough time to land a hit on Bucky’s left eye.

“What the actual hell!” You screamed, running to stand in between them.

You pushed on Miles' chest to get him to back away from Bucky. Miles was struggling to contain his anger as you pushed him back, his chest heaving with leftover adrenaline.

“What happened? I heard yelling,” Wanda panted, bursting into the room, Vision trailing behind her.

“Wanda, please stay with Miles to cool off,” you begged, still using your body to keep Miles from attacking again.

Wanda nodded, and took your place.

“Bucky, outside. Now.” You pointed to the back door.

He knew better than to question you.

Fuck. She’s really mad.

Bucky obeyed, and closed the door behind him. He followed the wooden porch to the stairs, and sat on the last step, digging his feet into the cool sand. Wanda and Vision had put out the fire, great billowing smoke greeting the starry sky. He liked the quiet out there. The waves softly meeting the shore was a lullaby for him.

The creak of a door alerted him to your presence. You sighed, and sat down right next to him with an ice pack in hand.

Neither of you said a word as you gently brought the pack to just above his left eye. Luckily, Miles was off by enough that Bucky’s eye was safe, just not the area around his eyebrow.

After a couple moments of quiet, you spoke.

“You’re not in the clear either, you know that?” Your voice was soft, despite the words.

Bucky nodded.

“There is no good excuse for him attacking you,” You started, and made sure Bucky was hearing you, “however, I know Miles, and I also know you. And I don't know what you did, or said, but I know you did something to antagonize him.”

He mumbled something. You didn’t bother asking him what it was.

“Look at me,” you begged.

He did. You carefully removed the ice pack and he winced.

You looked straight into his eyes, your brows slightly furrowed, your lips slightly down turned. He couldn’t look away, waiting with bated breath for you to say something. Anything.

“Bucky,” was all you said.

That was all you had to say. He knew what you meant. He knew you were asking him “what happened?” he knew you meant you felt guilty, he knew you wanted to cry.

You looked at him expectantly.

“Doll, I—I’m sorry.”

“What’s going on with you?” You brought the ice back to his rapidly darkening bruise.

Bucky sucked in a breath. He wasn’t sure how to answer.

Make the wave, Bucky. Make the wave.

“I need to tell you something.” He brought his hand up to yours and made you lower the ice pack.

“What?”

“Doll, for a very long time I’ve been feeling…” The words died off. He tried again. “You’re my best friend, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Bucky. Always.”

“I know, but Doll I’m in—”

The crash of a door closing stopped him.

“Babe, will you come talk to me now?” Miles whined, attempting a pout.

“Miles, just give me a minute. What were you saying, Bucky?” Your eyes sparkled, looking intently in his.

Bucky sighed.

“It’s not important right now, I’ll tell you later.”

You looked away and nodded sadly.

“Okay.”

It was 12am, and Bucky couldn’t sleep. He was only thinking about how close he was to telling you the truth.

Giving up on sleep for the time being, he slid out of bed to get some water. But on his way to the kitchen, he passed the couch, and there you laid. He instantly forgot about the water and kneeled in front of you. Your eyes were shut, but you didn’t look peaceful. Your eyebrows were drawn together, and Bucky fought the instinct to smooth them out.

“Doll,” he whispered, resting his palm on your shoulder. “Doll?”

“Mhuh?” You mumbled, blinking your eyes open.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“Because,”

“Is that actually comfortable for you?” He asked, noting the way you curled in on yourself under the small blanket.

“It works.”

“Do you want to come lay in my bed?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He turned to walk away.

“Fine,” you grumbled, reaching for his hand.

You slowly got up, and sluggishly followed Bucky to his bed. You crawled in and under the blankets, and he filed in behind you.

“G’night,” you mumbled, heavy eyes already falling shut.

“Goodnight, Doll,” he tenderly whispered, blushing at how soft you were.

Bucky laid a small kiss on your forehead. He didn’t miss the faint upturn of your lips.

I love you, Doll.

A/N: Thank you my loves for reading! ONLY ONE MORE PART TO GO WOOHOO! I appreciate each and every one of you. Now get out there and make the wave!!

#bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #make the wave #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #BestFriend!Bucky #best friend!bucky #bucky series #bucky mini series

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impactedfates · 8 months

Note

Can you do imbibitor lunar! Dan heng x troublemaker! GN! Child reader? (Platonic)

Dan heng was supposed to babysit the reader but the reader is a little bit a trouble maker.. The reader has a soft spot for Dan heng lololo

A/N: Hihi :D I’ve returned!! Sorry for leaving for so long, but I should be able to get back to writing!! Requests are still closed for now, once all my current requests are finished and maybe some short fics and/or scenarios are written I'll open them up again. Thank you anon for the request!! And thank you for being patient with me to write this, I hope you'll enjoy this :>>

W.C: 1692

Warnings: None (I hope - Not fully proofread but I’ll fix anything once I’m back from school Ü)

Extra: Dan Heng is in his Vidyadhara form // Child reader so ofc is younger and shorter then most characters // Trailblazer is whoever you want it to be lol // Reader has been babysat for awhile by the Express (specifically Dan Heng) but now lives with the express in the fic

“[Name]!! Get down from that…NO DON’T J U M P”

March let out a small groan as she ran and stopped you from trying to jump off the fridge. She sighed and shook her head at you.

“Just what would Dan Heng think about this”

You stook out your tongue at the tired girl as she carefully put you down. Shaking her head. You were a new member of the Express family, Dan Heng had found you hiding when he was walking around Scalegorge Waterscape. And you seemed to cling to him, always hugging his tail. He doesn’t say no to it but he is surprised you seem to like him so much.

The Express like you as well!...Expect you seem to only like Dan Heng…especially when he’s in his Imbibitor Lunae form, not to say you don’t like him when he’s in his regular form, but you seem a LOT more attached when he lets you cling onto his tail.

It’s obvious to all the express (except Dan Heng it would seem) that you won’t listen to anyone but him, and on one hand it can be cute, on the other hand…it can be painful.

“[Name] All I said was that you couldn’t eat ice-cream for breakfast…it is not healthy whatsoever!”

March explained, puffing her cheeks, though maybe she shouldn’t say anything as she herself tried eating ice-cream for breakfast.

“Who’s trying to eat ice-cream for breakfast?”

A tired voice came, as Dan Heng came walking in, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken from sleep, his long hair tied back. After you joined he seemed to be in this form more often, for different reasons, one of them being you refused to sleep unless his tail was your blanket.

“[Name] is! Dan Heng tell them they cannot have it, and we’re saving it for tonight!!”

“[Name], Himeko bought them so we can have them to eat for movie night later tonight…plus having ice-cream for breakfast isn’t healthy y’know”

Dan Heng spoke gently, crouching down to your level, March stood behind him with a victorious grin. She knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to him…and she was right, you pouted a bit and looked away, crossing your arms, mumbling out an annoyed and reluctant.

“Fine.”

“[Name] sweetheart, please give that ba-”

*C R A S H*

Yet another mug belonging to Himeko broke right in front of her eyes. She silently mourned the mug, taking a small deep breath and looked at you.

“Y’know…your auntie Himeko liked that mug a lot sweetie…”

She spoke, gesturing to herself, but you simply stook out your tongue at her, about to reach over and knock over ANOTHER mug, this time belonging to Welt. Himeko was quick to swoop you away from it and caught the mug from making another loud noise. She placed it on a higher shelf, away from your reach even if you climbed and despite your thrashing, moved you on the Express couch.

“I heard a loud crash, is everything alright?”

Dan Heng called out, walking in, spotting the broken mug on the floor, his eyes softened and looked at Himeko apologetically.

“That was your favourite mug…wasn’t it?”

“Yep…”

She sighed, shaking her head disappointedly. Dan Heng was quick to grab a broom and start cleaning the broken shards, Himeko smiled at his gesture and began ruffling his head as if he was a child.

“Himeko…”

*C R A S H*

Himeko froze and her head snapped towards the source of the sound, the direction of your very own bedroom. You had seemingly left quickly when Dan Heng and Himeko were chatting and now you seemed to have broken yet another thing, you came waltzing in with a bunch of credits in your hand, lifting them up to Himeko, and with puppy eyes said.

“I’m sorry auntie, here. You can buy another one!”

Himeko smiled softly at you and shook her head, carefully taking the credits from your hand. Although you probably only ran to your piggy bank (assuming that’s what you broke for the credits) because Dan Heng entered, she could tell you did feel sorry upon hearing it was her favourite mug.

“It’s okay sweetie…just…try not to do it again”

You smiled and nodded. Promising her you won’t do it again…if you couldn’t actually keep that promise, she wasn’t sure. And she was sure you weren’t sure either but. She’d forgive you again in a heartbeat if she’s being honest.

Welt stared blankly at your wall, the wall that had now been decorated with some of his artwork…his artwork that had been torn up and collaged up without his permission.

“[Name]...what…is this?”

He spoke, pushing up his glasses as he closed as his eyes narrowed, darting at each page, clearly with a rip. Though he will admit that the collage…was pretty nice. Just…he wished it wasn’t from one of his sketchbooks, old or not.

“Art”

You said proudly, and sure…you weren’t technically wrong. Welt simply sighed and shook his head, crouching down to your level and carefully explained to you that you shouldn’t take things without people's permission. It isn’t nice.

You tilted your head and grinned, before grabbing his sketch book from your bed, looking him straight in the eye…you did ask but you did it while…ripping the page in the process. Welt could only pinch his nose in slight irritation…until the door to your door opened and his sketchbook was thrown behind your bed as you looked at whoever entered innocently.

“Big Brother! Look what I made”

“Huh? Oh…looks nice [Name]”

Dan Heng spoke, his eyes looking at the wall before it noticed Welt, he turned to face you with a concerned expression.

“Did you…ask Mr Welt if you could use his things?”

“Well no…”

“[Name], next time ask, Mr Welt really treasures his drawings”

You simply nodded with a small pout, honestly you thought it was an old sketchbook Welt didn’t care about…but hey. You still got a compliment from Dan Heng right? Welt could only hope you’d listen now that Dan Heng told you.

“Did you both really just go hunting in trash?”

Dan Hen asked with a deadpan, looking at you and the trailblazer, now filthy. You giggled a bit, scratching the back of your head. As the trailblazer was quick to defend themselves.

“THIS TIME…this time it wasn’t me, believe me. This one right here jumped into the dumpster first, so I jumped in to get them. Then I tried to catch them but they kept…SWIMMING?? Around in the piles of trash…wait can you swim in trash?”

The Vidyadhara put up his hand to silence the grey haired trailblazer, before his eyes glanced at you. Raising an eyebrow, he silently asked if this was true to which you…slowly nodded again, embarrassed. He sighed a bit and rubbed his temples, he was still calm. He simply pointed in the direction of the bathrooms.

“You two, bathe. Now.”

“But-”

“N o w.”

Movie Night! Finally, nothing bad happens. Perhaps that was due to Dan Heng managing to keep you calm and quiet with just his presence. But no one complains, everyones happy enough.

Everyone goes to their own room after they finish up so they could go to bed and get ready for the next mission, but they seem to find something in their room, a gift it would seem?

March's eyes widened a bit as she looked at the new camera that was decorated too! With her family, and a small note near it, reading

‘Thank you big sister!! I know you like photos right? Dan Heng helped me buy this for you, I hope you like it’

March squealed a bit and hugged the camera, thanking you a million times in her head.

Himeko’s eyes landed on an (albeit badly) made mug, decorated with various shades of her favourite colours and writing that she knew instantly was yours.

‘Best Auntie Ever!’

Perhaps she found her new favourite mug already…now for some coffee to pour into it.

Welt flicked through the pages of the new sketch book, only one drawing was made, at the front cover. He recognized your art style and smiled softly as he saw the mini doodles of the Express family and a very angry Pompom.

He grabbed a pencil and began sketching on the first page.

The Trailblazer lifted up the small trash bin pin, they could till it was custom made…I mean who would sell bins of them peaking out a bin?...

But they didn’t care, it was cute. They knew exactly who got it for them too. Carefully they pinned it on their jacket.

Yes you could be a pain for them sometimes, especially if Dan Heng wasn’t there to settle you. But they all cared for you, and just these gifts alone told them that you indeed also cared for them.

“But you helped me with buying them all and writing the words”

You grumbled, crossing your arms as the raven hair tucked you into bed.

“And you were the one who decided AND knew what to get them, additionally it was also your idea”

He speaks, a soft smile painting his lips. He always knew how troublesome you were, from the day he began babysitting you to the day you were allowed to actually live on the express. He knew you only really behaved around him and with the others well, your ‘true colours’ would appear.

It was the others who thought he didn’t know you had a soft spot for him due to him calmly telling you to stop things then going on about his day, but he just knew that all it would take is a few words and you’d do it.

But he also knew you still cared for the rest of your family. Although sure, you had your favourites, you had the one you were most soft for…that won’t change the love and care you have for your other family members. But uh perhaps you should show it a bit better…still though

They were your family.

And you were their family.

Neither of you would change that.

It didn't occur to me until after writing this that the anon could've meant Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng like Dan Feng, also I didn't exactly write babysitting (I mentioned it) but I wrote it more so as the reader living with the Express family. To the anon who requested this I'm so sorry if I messed it up ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥)‧º·

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soft-girl-musings · 3 months

Text

Burn (MK Spring Bingo #2)

Jake Lockley & GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: breakup/gender neutral ex mention, fire safety? we don't know her. no use of y/n

wc: 1,347

fic summary: what's a few burnt mementos between friends?

A/N: i was cold so i finally wrote this lol

_____________________

This stinks.

Literally, this whole setup stinks. Lighting a fire always seems so appealing until you remember how the stench of it clings to your body and clothes, head to toe. You’ll carry it with you until you can rid yourself of everything imbued with smoke and dive through the shower.

As you glance toward the box at your feet, the irony doesn’t escape you: lighting a fire to forget while it refuses to let you. What’s one more memory scorched into your person?

“Hey.”

A familiar voice snaps you back to the present. In the dim light you see the outline of your friend, bundled up as he walks toward you.

“Hey yourself.” Jake has an open invitation to swing by anytime, but you had forgotten to text him and ask for some privacy tonight. You kick the box beneath your seat. Jake pretends not to notice.

Instead, he hands you a thermos. “Bit cold to be outside, don’t you think?”

“I’m staying warm out of spite.” You open the thermos and nearly melt as the smell of your favorite hot beverage wafts up from the canister. At least he never comes empty handed.

A gloved hand gestures for you to pass the thermos back as Jake takes the seat next to you. The light of the fire dances across his features, the tired look in his eyes more prominent in the orange glow. He pours a steaming mug from the canister and passes it to you, capping it and pulling out a flask for himself.

You sip your drink as you continue to examine him. This must not be a social visit.

Finally you clear your throat. “Do you want to talk about it, or do you want a distraction?”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Distraction, if you’re game.”

“Sure… yeah, okay.” The mug is a welcome comfort to your frigid hands, but you part with it to drag the box back out. “Guess what today is?”

You can see the wheels turning in his mind as he runs through every significant date possible. His eyes widen when he spies the corner of something poking out from the box. “Your anniversary,” he winces.

“Ugh, don’t call it that.” You set the box on the seat between you. “But yes, technically. One year since… you know. I ended things.”

Jake nods sagely, putting his flask back in his coat pocket. He remembers what happened a year ago.

It was a gnarly breakup. He was proud of you for ending things with your ex, and he made sure to tell you every time doubt began to creep into your mind. But even now, he knew you could be triggered by the smallest things. You’d avoid certain phrases when you spoke; you couldn’t stand the smell of the places you frequented on your dates; you hadn’t touched the book series you both had bonded over since they stopped being part of your life.

Jake’s attention falls back on the box. “And how are we celebrating tonight?”

You laugh, sharp and bitter. “Yeah, it’s a real party.” Still, you open the box to give him a better look at its contents. To anyone else, it’d look like a pile of junk. And technically, to you, it is junk: odds and ends, trinkets and notes are piled inside. On top sits a book, decently sized and paperback with worn pages.

You shrug. “Figured tonight was as good a time as any to bury the hatchet. Or burn it.”

Jake looks at you quizzically. “Then why haven’t you?” He scoots his seat closer to yours, a small grin playing on his lips. “I mean, I’m honored if you were waiting for little ol’ me, but I get the feeling you wanted to do this alone.” He nudges your foot with his own. “What’s the holdup?”

You stare down at the box, then at the fire. “It just… I don’t know. It feels mean. Like, I could just stick this stuff back in my closet and it’d basically be the same thing.”

Jake shakes his head. “If that was the case, you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of lighting this thing and sat here freezing your ass off for so long.” When this draws a small smile from you, he continues. “You’re not going to hurt anyone if you get rid of these things once and for all. Not if it’s what you really want to do. But…” he sighs, picking up the paperback and flipping through it. “If you want to keep ‘em a while longer, nobody’s gonna get hurt from that, either.” He closes the book and looks you in the eye. “It’s up to you.”

You’re focused on the book in his hands as he talks. After a moment, your voice is soft. “They never even read it. That book, I loaned it to them. It wasn’t my favorite, but I figured we could bond over the author or something. Do you know where they put it as soon as I handed it over?” Your face scrunches in disgust. “Their fucking gym bag. They gave it back a month later, never even opened it.”

You haven’t thought about that moment since you shoved the novel in the reject pile ages ago. It wasn’t even the fact that your ex had put something of yours in the same bag as their used socks and God knows what else. When they gave it back to you, unread, it felt tainted in more ways than one. Tainted with neglect. One of the first red flags you’ve beaten yourself up over not recognizing sooner. Your eyes sting with tears– whether from sadness, frustration, or the smoke blowing your way, you can’t tell. All you know is that you can’t stand to look at the thing anymore.

Jake reads you loud and clear. He stands up, crosses to the other side of the fire, and opens the book in the middle. “Well, this thing does not spark joy.” With a flourish, he takes one page in hand, and tears it from the book with a decided riiiiiip.

You watch with wide eyes as he holds the page over the flames. As if waiting for your approval (not that you fancied taping a page back into the gym bag book either way). You nod, and Jake shouts, “En el fuego te vas!” before crumpling the page and dropping it into the fire pit.

You laugh for the first time all evening. Jake continues, tearing page after page from the novel and ceremoniously dropping them into the fire. A weight seems to have been lifted from him, as well, as he gets louder and more energized with every offering.

Finally you stand up and take the book from his hands. “Can’t let you have all the fun, Lockley.” You grab a fistful of the remaining pages and scatter them into the fire pit, then chuck the rest of the book into the makeshift inferno.

Plumes of smoke rise as sparks fly out from the force of your enthusiasm. Jake wraps his arms around you and turns your body away, shielding you from the brunt of the embers. “Easy, cariño.”

“You made it look fun,” you say breathlessly. The cold and adrenaline catch up to you, and you’re practically buzzing. Jake rubs his hands along your shoulders to steady you.

“Want to keep going, then?”

You smile wide. “Hell yeah.”

The two of you spend the next half hour sorting through the box, bidding each item farewell before dropping it into the fire pit. You’re convinced dumping the whole thing in at once would be the perfect catharsis, but Jake convinces you to take your time (and avoid calling the fire department).

Later, as the flames cool and every memento has been reduced to ash, you sit with Jake in the fading glow of the fire, his arm around you as you sip from the thermos.

“Jake?” you ask quietly, face flush against his chest as you watch the light leave each ember.

“Yeah?”

“Happy anniversary.”

A/N: ladies if he sticks a novel you loaned him in his goddamn duffel bag, kick 'em to the curb

_____________________

anyway this was fun. excited to continue with my planned bingo entries!!

ty for reading babes <3

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#my works #mk spring bingo 2024 #moonknightevents #moon knight #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #jake lockley/gn!reader

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astraariel · 8 months

Text

you belong with me

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you're in love with Eddie, but he has eyes for Chrissy.

word count: 7.1K

warnings: none!

tags: based on "you belong with me" by taylor swift; no upside down!au; childhood friends to lovers; pining; not actually unrequited love; slight angst; fluff; chrissy's a sweetheart

author's note: for some reason my hyperfixation for eddie resurfaced so lol yeah this is what this is. excuse the grammar mistakes, enjoy ♡

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The trailer park was quiet except for the murmurs and soft noises that the residents made whilst partaking in their nighttime routines.

The soft ambiance provided comforting background noise as you made your way over to Eddie’s trailer, you were excited to see what movie he had picked from the Family Video tonight.

Eddie and you had made it a tradition to go over to each other’s houses and watch a shitty horror movie while eating pizza to critique said shitty movie.

This week it was Eddie’s turn to host.

You first met Eddie when you were eight. You had gotten home from school for the day, your mom inside fixing up dinner whilst you played with your jump rope outside. You remember the sun burning down on you but that didn’t deter you from continuing your time for outside playtime. You had been on your twentieth jump with your pink jump rope when a truck pulled up to the trailer beside yours. Your curious eight-year-old self’s attention diverted to the mysterious boy hopping out of the pickup truck. His denim overalls were loose on him, a strap was unbuttoned showcasing his white ribbed shirt underneath. His gaze met yours, and before you could look away, he offered you a crooked smile, wanna see a trick? You quickly nodded and watched him dash over toward you, his hand had retreated into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards.

Later at dinner, your mom mentioned how the new boy, Eddie, had moved in with his uncle and was going to be your new neighbor. “He’s a little older, but why don’t you play with him after school, honey?”

Funny to think years later that some silly card trick is what caused you two to be inseparable.

The door swings open before you even make it up the short steps. “You know I've told you multiple times you can just walk in, right? I never lock the door.”

Your eyes skim over Eddie’s bare arm that was extended, your eyes glance over his recent addition of tattoos that peeked from his sleeves. “Yeah, and I've told you multiple times that that is a safety problem.” You waved a finger in front of Eddie as he swatted it away with a scoff.

The familiar home of Eddie and Wayne’s trailer met your eyes as you slipped your shoes off; Wayne’s copious mugs displayed on the walls always grabbed your attention when you walked into the trailer. They offered a sense of home that you loved so much.

Eddie had gone to his room to fetch the VHS of his movie pick while you busied yourself with grabbing the pizza menu and walking over to the phone to place the order.

“What do you want, just pepperoni? Or do you want something else - and don't you dare say pineapple.” You call over to him while leaning on the table holding the phone in your hand.

Eddie’s curly hair appears in the hall as he makes his way toward you, exaggeratedly sighing “Fine, just pepperoni.”

He saunters off to the TV before shouting back, requesting garlic bread while fiddling with the VHS.

You quickly order the food and walk over to the couch where Eddie was sitting waiting for you so he could play the movie.

“What monstrosity have you picked for us today, Munson?”

♡‧₊˚

The sound of students chattering with each other filled your ears as you were rummaging through your locker.

Your usual attendance of watching the guys play during their band practice was missed Saturday due to your mom requiring you to run errands all weekend so you haven't seen Eddie since Friday.

Meaning you left Eddie to his own devices for far too long and you're about to unknowingly pay the price.

“Jesus Christ!”

Speak of the devil.

The sound of your locker closing was muffled by the loud shriek that came out of your mouth.

“Eddie, how many times have I told you not to scare me like that?” You sputter out quickly whilst holding a hand up to your chest.

Eddie offers you a sheepish smile, “Sorry, princess, I was just too excited to see you.”

Your heart flutters slightly at the statement.

The whole “falling for your best friend trope” was a dumb cliche. In the early years of your friendship with Eddie, your mom would make offhand comments about how “oh you two are so cute together” and “you are both so going to fall in love with each other, just watch.” Your kid self always scrunched your nose in disgust and had you turning your head in the opposite direction. But you weren’t sure when the look of disgust turned into you turning your face to hide the blush that was settling on your cheeks.

And yeah so what if you knew that Eddie Munson drank his coffee with an insane amount of creamer and sugar and how he would never admit it, but that he had a soft spot for ABBA. How he gets this one specific look on his face whenever he’s telling you about the new campaign he’s currently working on; how his eyes glow with excitement just reciting all the things he’s planning on introducing and adding for the guys. That he smiles so wide you can’t help to notice the dimples he has and how they just fit his face. How you want to just kiss him all over and just constantly wish to see him happy and smiling.

Yeah, you’re totally in love with your best friend.

“So… I was thinking over the weekend.”

“Oh, that’s never good.”

He ignores your comment by rolling his eyes playfully. “I was thinking that I have been in this hell hole for far too long. And I haven’t done anything memorable.”

You send a confused look at Eddie, “What about how you have weekly lectures on the lunch tables in the cafeteria, or how you helped raise the drama club funding due to badgering Principal Higgins constantly for a month.” Beckoning for him to explain, you begin to walk to class.

He rolls his eyes again, “Okay, Miss Know-It-All, I meant more…you know.”

“No I don’t know, Eddie.”

He hesitates slightly before continuing “Well, I was talking to the guys and well they think I’m insane but you won't, right?” His wide eyes look over at you expectantly.

“I guess that depends on what you’re about to say.” you tease.

He was nervous, you noted. He wouldn't meet your eyes as he begins to fidget under your stare.

He scratches his head before saying, “I'm gonna ask Chrissy to prom.”

You stop walking, your head spinning to Eddie’s. Your eyes were wide open, which were shifting between his own in disbelief. People walked around you but not without complaining and calling out “Watch out” but you couldn't care less about what was happening around you. Your mind was reeling; it was attempting to decipher whether or not he was telling a joke or not.

He wasn’t.

Fixing your composure you look forward and keep walking. “Isn’t prom in two weeks, that’s kinda a short notice.” You attempt to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

You had known about Eddie’s crush on Chrissy Cunningham since middle school. It had been during the talent show, Eddie had come after you to gush about how she had looked so pretty waving her pom poms in the air that night. Chrissy had done some cheer routine which had gotten her the most applause putting everyone else's show to shame. Regrettably for you, you were the follow-up after her spectacle. You can’t say your flute solo, which you had worked hard on the week leading up to the talent show, was a show-stopper after that.

You didn’t hate Chrissy, you never did and probably never would. She, unfortunately, is the nicest person you’ve ever met, she always talks to you when you have classes together, and how she actually complimented you on your flute solo after you had gotten off the stage even though you had messed up the first measure of the song.

You just couldn’t help but compare yourself to her. You wanted to hate her. You assumed it would be easier to hate her, but that wasn’t the case. You simply hated the fact that you weren’t her. You were the complete antithesis of her; it was honestly ridiculous. While she was the head cheerleader, you were in the stands wearing a stupidly hot outfit and a dumb hat while also playing the flute. You weren’t at rock bottom of the social hierarchy but you still weren't high, you were in the band for Christ’s sake.

You couldn’t fault Eddie for falling for miss pride of Hawkins High, the star-studded cheerleader that was Chrissy Cunningham.

“Well, I heard from the cheerleaders that she rejected Jason Carver already so she’s free and totally doesn't have a date so I figured… well that I would ask her,” Eddie whispers the last part before stopping at your first-period classroom door. “What do you think?”

You shift your gaze to the quickly depleting students in the hall before looking back at your best friend. “You should totally do it.” you say while avoiding his eyes, “I’ll see you at lunch, kay?”

You walk into your class before he can say anything back, choosing to drown your sorrows in algebra instead.

♡‧₊˚

Prom had always been a bit of a dream for you. You had fallen for that American high school cliche, ever since you were ten.

You were driving around with your mom when you passed by Enzo’s and had seen so many people dressed up standing outside waiting in line to get in. Your mom explained to you that it was the senior prom that weekend; since then you had looked forward to the moment in your senior year where you would get to wear your new expensive dress you had bought solely for the event.

After you had gotten home that day, you had rambled to Eddie for the rest of the evening while he pushed you on the swingset at the trailer park. He had just shrugged you off and stayed quiet. You paid him no mind and ignored him by beaming at his face with a toothless grin,

“You’ll go with me to prom right, Eds?”

“Only if you let me swing now.”

“Deal.”

You’d like to say you haven't been in love with Eddie till recently but you’d be lying to yourself.

In your recent years of high school, you found yourself daydreaming about attending prom with your best friend, you always played it off as of course, you’d attend this huge event in your life with Eddie, he was your best friend. If you ignored how much he hated conformist bullshit things such as prom. And each time he got held back, the closer and closer you got to both of you being in the same senior class, your hope grew.

Of course, those were always cut short whenever you had caught Eddie looking at Chrissy at lunch or he’d rant to you about how she wrote the most beautifully, detailed short story in English that day and how she would make such a great DM. Or how at the basketball game last week when halftime was over and the band was given a break you had gotten water and had spotted Eddie in the crowd; even though he has sworn up and down (and publicly) that basketball was dumb. You had just shrugged it off as him supporting Lucas, but you knew deep down it was because of Chrissy.

But you refused to acknowledge otherwise.

You should honestly be happy that he’s going to prom now, granted he wouldn’t be going with you. Nor would he take pictures with you. You both wouldn’t awkwardly be posing in your living room together at your trailer as your mom took a million photos along with Wayne taking the day off to see his boy all dressed up for the prom. Or how your fingers wouldn’t tremble while attempting to pin his corsage on his tux hoping you didn’t poke him. Nor would a single shy smile be transpired between the two of you as you walked into the school gym-turned-prom venue.

Nope, he’d be doing that with Chrissy Cunningham.

You took painstakingly slow steps as you currently walked to your last class of the day. You weren't looking forward to seeing Eddie again. Opting for skipping lunch to wallow in your self-pity in the library instead.

Therefore, you hadn't seen Eddie since morning when he stabbed you in the heart unknowingly with his newfound decision, and honestly, it was probably for the best. It’s not like you were going to ask him to prom anytime soon anyways.

The sound of your footsteps stopping in front of the classroom reached your ears. “Just play it cool,” you mutter to no one. You took a deep breath and walked into the classroom, immediately heading toward your seat in the back corner.

Eddie was already in the seat beside yours, his wide doe eyes met yours when he hears your steps and flashes you a smile, “Sup, where were you during lunch, Gareth’s mom made these killer cookies today.”

You look over at him, “Oh I went to the library, I had to catch up on some homework,” you lie.

He didn't say anything back just simply letting out a noise signaling he heard your excuse while nodding.

“Well anyways, about earlier.” he raises his eyebrows, “I’m gonna do it today.” He whispers so that people couldn’t listen in.

“...are you?” your tone was neutral.

He shifts his eyes away from yours. “I need to do it now while I have the confidence because if not, I'm gonna psych myself out,” he nods to himself, “Yeah I'm gonna wait for her after her practice is over.”

You study his side profile. His brown eyes were looking at the ceiling in concentration. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, you find your eyes tracing along his jawline. His hair was a little messy, signaling that he had been running his fingers through it all day.

Willing yourself to say something, “She’ll say yes, Eddie, and if she doesn’t it’s her loss.” You swallow slightly and offer him a small smile.

His hopeful eyes look at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

♡‧₊˚

“This is officially the worst day ever.” You groan as you walk into the Family Video.

Steve looks over at Robin from where he was reshelving tapes.

“Uh oh, what happened?” Robin asks reluctantly

“Everything, Robin, everything that could’ve ever gone wrong, has gone wrong.”

After the whole Chrissy-prom-Eddie fiasco yesterday, you had declared the rest of the day a time for self-pitying. All you wanted to do was lie in bed with the covers drawn and completely shut out from the world so that you could comfort yourself in the sad exile you had made.

That was until Eddie called.

Since your blinds were drawn, you hadn’t noticed Eddie coming home earlier. Hence why when the phone rang you almost jumped out of your skin.

Debating whether or not to pick up, you looked at your window longingly knowing who it was on the other side. You ultimately decided to stand up and answer because if you didn't you knew he would just come over instead. And you didn’t exactly what to face Eddie right now, memories rushing to your mind reminded you of how much they were like a slap in the face.

“She said yes.”

He didn’t even wait for you to say hello before revealing his triumph win.

You zoned out after that, not processing the dial zone indicating that he hung up already. You could only recall a little after you walked back to your room that he was going to hang out with the guys because he had promised they’d celebrate the news if she said yes.

The morning had come and gone with you forcing yourself to get out of bed so that you could make it to school today. Eddie met your morning daze with his usual smile when you hopped into his van, you returned it with a small smile but stayed silent. You’d just use the excuse of having stayed up late last night due to catching up on some non-existent homework. Eddie on the other hand took this as permission to gush about how he was finally stoked about something concerning school for once and that he’d be able to share the experience with the girl he had been pining after for years. You simply offer him quiet hums to signify that you were listening.

School was no different, having forced yourself on autopilot, just mindlessly walking to and from class. You attended lunch today, not wanting to rile suspicion and worry with the group, and chose to suck it up and sit through Eddie rambling about how Chrissy had smelled like strawberries and vanilla while he had asked her the million-dollar question.

How she, quote, “had the most radiant smile shining up at him the entire time he talked to her.”

You also chose to ignore the smiles and slight waves she offered him when she made eye contact with him during lunch as well.

Yeah, you weren’t having a good day at all.

Your eyes scanned the store, relief settling once you noticed that it was empty except for your two friends seeing as you didn't bother to note if anyone was there before you blurted out about the nightmare that was your life currently.

Thank god it was a Tuesday afternoon and no one was there to witness your sad-sad life.

Steve was now standing beside Robin having moved during your entire speech after he finished his task.

“It’s just one dance, you know?” he offers, “It’s not like they’ll start dating.” He chuckles awkwardly in hopes of comforting you.

Unfortunately, that was the worst thing he could have said.

“Wait, what if they start dating?” You were going to pass out. “You know, I can’t even be mad at Chrissy, I mean, she’s genuinely the sweetest person. And Eddie, god Eddie, he’s so ecstatic about this, I mean, he’s been pining after her since middle school…middle school! And here I am being a bitch because I couldn't get my shit together and just confess to him about how I feel.” you sigh and drop your head on the counter “He deserves this one thing at least, who am I to get in the way of it?” you say with your voice slightly muffled.

Robin smacked Steve’s shoulder before walking around the counter over to you. “Sweetie, don't get so upset with yourself.” She rubs your shoulders, “Don’t let this small inconvenience deter you from enjoying your prom. Remember? You’ve been looking forward to this since you were ten!”

You look up at her and glance at Steve, meeting his eyes. “Don't let some dumb guy ruin this for you,” he says.

“But he's not some dumb guy, he's Eddie,” you whisper.

“Well, you got me, babe, kay? You can come along with Vicki and me, we’ll have an amazing time together just us, no guys - well that doesn't bother me - but you know what I mean, just us gals, what do you say?”

You don't reply so Robin continues, “This is me officially asking you to prom, are you gonna reject me or not?” she bumps your shoulder with a slight smirk on her freckled face.

You smile at her, “Okay.”

♡‧₊˚

After Robin had invited you to accompany her and Vicki to prom, you felt a little better. It helped you keep your mind off Eddie and allowed you to look forward to the event of which you’d be attending with your other best friend.

It had been almost two weeks since Eddie had asked Chrissy to prom and she had evidently accepted with a “sure why not!” Eddie had ranted to you about how he had a nice conversation with her and how she seemed genuinely excited for prom (you cried in the bathroom after that.)

The entire school was reeling over the fact that Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was taking the queen of Hawkins High, Chrissy Cunningham, to prom. Jason was livid but every time he tried to say something to Eddie during lunch, Chrissy would shut him down, which you were grateful for.

Another reason why you couldn’t hate her.

Along with Eddie being over the moon about taking his dream girl to prom, he could never seem to shut up about her either. At any possible time, whether at lunch or on the drive home from school, or even during your own personal hang-out time; Eddie always seemed to be talking about one person.

And that person was not you.

Last weekend, Eddie had knocked at your door in a panic about how the suit he was wearing was too big on him and that he looked like a loser, “you always look like a loser.” You pulled him inside so that you could grab your mother’s sewing kit and figure out how you were going to help him tailor Wayne’s old suit to fit him better. “Thanks, princess, what would I do without you?”

While you played tailor, you let it slip that you - surprisingly - haven’t bought a dress yet so in return, he offered to take you dress shopping. The next day he came barreling into your room announcing that the two of you were going shopping at the mall in the town over in hopes of finding your dream dress.

You're one hundred percent sure that Eddie’s cute little reactions every time you stepped out of the dressing room will forever replay in your mind for the rest of your life. Even for the dresses you immediately dismissed and deemed ugly, you were still praised by him.

“I look horrible in this, what even are these sleeves?”

“I kinda dig the sleeves, makes you look like a real princess, princess.”

That smile, god that smile of his. Perhaps it was your delusions or maybe you genuinely saw a flicker of something in Eddie’s eyes when he would glance over your figure, drinking in your body in the dress you were currently showcasing for him. Either way, you were quite literally fooling yourself entirely because he wasn’t going with you,

he was going with Chrissy.

When you got home that day, you decided that you weren't just going to sit around anymore and cry about how things weren't working out. You have been looking forward to prom since you were a kid, you were going to fulfill that ten-year-old you’s dream.

Pulling your blinds close so that they could block any sort of visual that you'll get from Eddie when he got home you grabbed your walkman and climbed into bed. You weren't in the mood to talk to him at the moment, it was Friday meaning the prom was tomorrow and you were currently losing your mind.

Sadly, God wasn’t through with tormenting you just yet.

The sound of the phone ringing ricocheted throughout your house, forcing you to pull yourself up from your current spot on your bed.

“Hello?”

“Wanna go for a drive?”

No, you wanted to wallow in your self-pity and die.

“Sure.”

After slipping on some shoes, you walk out of your trailer and trek the small way toward Eddie’s. He was leaning against his van, cigarette in hand. The moon showered Eddie in its light, making him look ethereal. You didn’t check the time before you left but you knew it was a little late already, the moon was high in the sky, set for the night that was to come.

You hadn’t heard him get home earlier you wondered where he had been the entire day. He must have gotten home just now. Weird.

His head perks up at the sound of your shoes hitting the gravel, he gives you that dimpled smile you love so much and drops the cigarette on the ground before putting it out with his shoe. “Thought we both could go for a drive, hop in.”

He didn’t wait for you to reply and simply walked around to the driver’s side and turned the ignition on.

You took your place in the passenger seat and instantly rummaged through the glove box to look for a new cassette to play.

He looks over at you as you pop in Dio’s The Last in Line, wordlessly. The beginning cords of “We Rock” play as you sit back and look out the window.

“Where are you taking us, ole mystery man?” you say after a couple of minutes.

“Oh, it’s a surprise, fair maiden.” he laughs softly, “Not really, uh I'm just heading to Lover’s Lake.” His voice is soft, almost too soft. It confuses you slightly, prompting you to look over at your best friend. His eyes were focused on the stretch of road ahead, it felt like he was ignoring your eyes.

The both of you don't say anything after that, simply basking in Ronnie James Dio’s voice till you arrive at your destination.

The soft shutter of the ignition indicated that Eddie had parked already, so you quickly unbuckle yourself and crawled to the back of the van while Eddie cracked open the doors.

He had settled on a lone area off the edge of the lake. It was quiet. You took a quick glance at the dashboard before leaving your seat and noticed that it was nine already. The moon shined on the soft ripples coming from the lake, relaxing your surprisingly tense shoulders.

“Here,” Eddie’s voice cuts the air, offering you a blanket from the back of his van to you.

“Thanks,” you say after a beat, “so, are you excited about tomorrow or are you completely shitting yourself about taking your dream girl to the prom, Munson?”

You peer down to look at his knees that were on display with the worn-out jeans he loved to wear so much. The glint of his rings sparkled signaling that he was drawing shapes on his thigh. One of his nervous ticks, you noted.

You focus your vision back on the water ahead of you, ignoring his stare; you will yourself to not make eye contact with his brown eyes.

You can do this.

You will not lose your best friend over some silly crush.

“Let’s…not talk about Chrissy. I wanna talk about you. I feel like I don’t know about anything that’s happened to you in the last two weeks.” he pauses for a second, “I’m sorry that I’ve just been talking about her all the time recently.”

The unexpected apology throws you off, you look over at your best friend and bump his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

The question hangs in the air for a bit, it seemed as if he was mulling it over. Your eyebrows twitch in confusion.

“You remember that day when you learned what prom was and declared to the entire town that you were going to attend it once it was your turn?” His eyes were glassy.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks, you threatened me that if I wouldn't shut up you’d tape my mouth shut.” You laugh quietly at the memory.

After your laughter dies down as you glance over at him. He looks at you and smiles. “I’m not…,” he hesitates, “I’m not sure…how I should style my hair tomorrow,”

Your smile falters slightly before you catch yourself and beam up at him, “I love your hair the way it is, Eds, keep it like that.”

He nods at you and looks away, “We should probably get back, I didn’t tell my mom where I was going,” you murmur.

“Of course, can’t have the princess getting in trouble, can we?” he grins at you.

Oh, how you love him.

♡‧₊˚

If you were to tell fourteen-year-old Eddie Munson that he would be attending prom with the girl he’d been crushing on. He wouldn't have believed you.

He’d turn to his best friend and laugh in your face with her, cackling to the insane statements along with her. That same best friend who encouraged him to ask Chrissy in the first place. The same best friend who has dreamed about prom since she was a kid and the same best friend whom he wouldn't be attending it with.

You’d think Eddie would be excited, but he couldn’t help but have a small feeling inside his heart that hurt.

He drums his fingers on his steering wheel, the anxiety pooling in his stomach. His eyes glance over at your trailer, your blinds were pulled but he could see a sliver of light peeking through, most likely from your lamp. It was quiet in there, he assumed you were listening to your walkman. You had always preferred listening to your music with your headphones rather than blaring it out loud as he did.

He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. “Fuck, she was right,” he mutters.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Chrissy had said.

He had been walking out of the school after he had finished pre-planning everything he wanted to do in the next Hellfire session. Yesterday, the guys had completely thrown him off so he needed to fix up his original idea for the next session next week. It never hurt to start early.

He was making his way over to the picnic table in the woods behind the school so that he could smoke before he left home for the day. His eyes glanced around the parking lot before passing through it, not many students were loitering around; choosing to immediately book it after the bell seeing as it was Friday and on top of that the Friday before prom.

He had barely stepped onto the grass that led to the woods when he heard his name being called.

He looked over his shoulder only to see Chrissy walking toward him. “Hey, Eddie,” her polished nails were waving at him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“What’s up?” he shoots her a quick smile.

“Oh, were you busy? Because I really need to talk to you.” Her pleading eyebrows were creased in a slight worry.

“Ah nah, I was just heading to my spot to smoke before I went home.” his gaze shifts back to her, “Walk with me?”

Chrissy simply nods and begins walking beside him.

Eddie attempts to find something to say during the short distance to the picnic table, scouring through his brain in hopes of making the walk less awkward than it was.

It was never awkward with you.

He shook his head before he realized he had finally reached his destination, he sits down and pulls out a cigarette before beckoning Chrissy to say what she needed to say.

She takes a deep breath. “When you asked me to go to prom with you, I was inclined to say no.” She pauses for a second before catching herself, “Not in that way, um, I just never really thought you liked me. I mean I don’t think we’ve ever really talked before.” She thinks for a bit, “Maybe during the middle school talent show…” Her eyes shoot up to his, “god what was the name of your band, it was such an insane name, I loved it.”

“Corroded Coffin” Eddie answers with a smile.

“Corroded Coffin! Oh my gosh yes!” She laughs before looking off to the side, “I honestly thought you were dating someone already.” She says your name, “Yeah I could’ve sworn y’all were dating, so when you asked me to go to prom, it completely caught me off guard.” She nods to herself in confirmation.

At the sound of your name, Eddie perks up. “Wait you thought I was dating her?” He quickly laughs, waving her off. “No, we’re not-we’re not dating, we’re just friends.” He doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I don’t think you want to be.” She says quietly.

His eyebrows screw together, “what?”

“Look, I don’t know you too well and I don’t really know her too well either,” she bites her lip slightly, “I think you should go with her…to prom.”

Eddie just stares at her, not saying a word.

Chrissy sets her bag down and sits down now, “I’ve seen you during lunch, well god, I mean how could I not!” she laughs and shakes her head quickly, “Your face just looks so…in love when you look at her. It’s like you hang onto every word she says to you. And I’m not sure you realize that. And if you haven’t, she hasn’t either and is probably devastated that you asked me to prom and not her.”

Eddie finally looks into Chrissy’s eyes now. Her eyes were big and full, they look a little glassy like she was going to cry, but not of sadness, no, Eddie didn’t think she was upset, she looks like she was in awe. In awe at him. At the love that he had not for her but for his best friend. Her face looked like she yearned for this supposed love that she claimed he had for you.

She smiles, “So, I’m not going to prom with you, Eddie,” Chrissy says with a tone of finality.

“Thank you…for this intervention,” he looks away, “didn’t know I needed it.” his voice was quiet.

Chrissy laughs but doesn’t say anything as she gets up, she ruffles slightly with her bookbag and slings it onto her back. She begins to walk away before she turns around to look at Eddie one last time. “I better see you at prom tomorrow and not alone.” She sent him one last smile and walked away.

Surprisingly, Eddie wasn’t upset or sad, instead, he was relieved.

He sits there in silence for what felt like an eternity. The afternoon sunlight beamed on him like stripes due to the trees providing a bit of shade for him. He felt like he was processing everything and nothing at the same time.

He had to leave, he had to get to you now.

Eddie’s mind was still reeling when he was getting close to Forest Hills, as much as he wanted to park in front of your trailer, run into your room, and tell you all that he was thinking,

he simply couldn’t.

So instead he doesn’t turn into the trailer park but rather keeps driving.

How could he have been so blind? All these years of pining after Chrissy Cunningham he thought it was her he wanted. He thought that whenever he would talk about her smile and how her face would light up a room it was Chrissy he was talking about but in actuality, it was you. It was always you.

It has always been you, ever since he had moved in beside your trailer into his uncle's. It has always been you cheering for him like when he had gotten nervous to go on stage for the talent show and Jeff had thrown up backstage. It has always been you whom he would talk to all through the night after you would slip through the window in his room. It has always been you listening to him rant on and on about the new campaign he was preparing for the guys. It has always been you. It will always be you.

And now it was dark outside, the moon replacing the sun for the night. Eddie sits submerged in your presence at Lover’s Lake. He knows that you suspect something is off about him.

“Are you okay?”

No Eddie wasn’t okay. He wanted to scream to the world that he had been in love with you for the longest time. To lose his voice after telling you about all the little things he loves about you, how he was stupid for not realizing sooner and for making you go through the last few years of him pining after a girl he never even loved.

But instead, he gives a lame excuse of not knowing how to style his hair.

He sees your smile falter but doesn't say anything.

And then you offer him that beautiful smile of yours.

God, he hates himself. Why couldn’t Eddie just say that he loves you? He curses himself for being such a coward.

Oh, how you love him.

Oh, how he loves you.

♡‧₊˚

You spent the morning lounging in your bed basking in your sadness before you force yourself to get distracted with the makeup and the music from the reality that was your life.

So what if the guy you’ve been in love with was going to prom with someone else? Totally not the end of the world, right?

“Sweetie, you should be leaving to pick up Robin or you’re going to be late.” Your mom’s voice echoes throughout the trailer.

“Yeah, I'm almost done” you yell back as you grab your heels.

Your eyes dart over at your window. You couldn’t help to notice that Eddie’s van was still parked, meaning he hasn’t left to pick Chrissy up yet. It was getting late already, prom was at seven but it was already quarter past and you had assumed Chrissy would want to get there early or something.

You finish putting your heels on and go to look in the mirror. This was it. You were finally going to attend prom, granted not with Eddie but you were still going with your friends.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab your purse and head out of the safe haven that was your room.

The sound of your doorbell rings throughout the trailer, “I’ll get it,” you say as you pass your mom in the kitchen.

Weird, must’ve been Robin.

A smirk finds its way on your face as you walk up toward the door. “No way, you drove here yourself-”

You open the door, fully expecting a dolled-up Robin (to her standards) in front of you, but to your surprise, it was someone else.

Eddie.

He was standing there in his tux that you had helped tailor. His hair’s down, it looks freshly washed and his curls look bouncy as ever; he had taken your advice that you had told him at the lake. He’s wearing that iconic jewelry of his, the rings he had on extenuating his long fingers. He chose to ditch the tie altogether and instead unbuttoned the first two buttons on the shirt, showing a sliver of his collarbones to the world.

“Uh, no I walked over actually,” Eddie says with a laugh.

After getting over your initial shock you smile at your best friend. “Eds, what are you doing here?”

You look at him expectantly and notice his eyes scanning your form, he swallows quickly before he looks back at you. His face had a slight blush to it.

No way. Did Eddie just check you out?

Eddie doesn't reply so you begin to ramble nervously. “Look at you,” you force a laugh, “Look at you going to prom” without me.

He just stares at you, not saying anything, so you continue. “I can't believe you're going with your dream girl,” you smile sadly, “you did it.”

He finally seems to process that he was standing in front of you and quickly stutters out, “Chrissy dumped me,” your eyebrows shoot up, “yeah, I’m not going with her anymore.” His eyes scan your face.

You blink, “Oh, I'm sorry I didn't - you didn’t tell me.”

“She’s not my dream girl”

“Huh?”

“She’s not my dream girl. You are.”

Were you going insane? You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t say anything. What did he mean that you were his dream girl? You simply stared at Eddie, blinking not saying a word. Your mouth was closing and opening attempting to locate words but your brain was currently malfunctioning.

“I don’t think I understand?” your eyes shift behind Eddie’s form, searching for something.

This was a joke. Surely Chrissy was going to pop out from behind and yell “Sike!” and then they were going to laugh in your face because Eddie had found out that you’ve been in love with him and had found it hilarious. This must have been some cruel prank that they were pulling.

But no one comes out. Eddie doesn’t laugh in your face but instead, he steps forward.

“Princess, you’re my dream girl. You always have been, I was just too blind to notice.” His brown eyes look at yours.

Those wide, loving eyes of his. God, you love him.

“I realized that I wasn't in love with Chrissy, she was just a crush that I had when I realized I would never be able to be with you. I think in fear of being rejected by you, I inadvertently did it anyway by developing that fantasy idea of her. It’s not Chrissy I've been in love with all these years, it's you.” He finishes his confession with a final sigh of relief.

You gulp. “You…love me?”

“Of course I love you, how couldn’t I?” he says with a shy smile.

That’s all you needed.

So you kiss him.

After years of pining. After years of wondering why Eddie wouldn’t just look your way. Of vying after him, you finally have his attention.

The kiss feels rushed like the two of you were chasing the years of lost time. Cursing at the other for having been missing out on this one single act. Hell, at this moment you're not sure how you were able to go years without kissing Eddie, and you don’t ever want to know how again.

He pulls away reluctantly. “So,” he pecks you once more, “if you’ll allow me, I made a deal, and I intend on keeping that promise, sweetheart.”

You crinkle your eyebrows in confusion for a second before it hits you,

he remembered.

A grin breaks out on your face. The childish voices ring in your memories.

“You’ll go with me to prom right, Eds?”

“Only if you let me swing now.”

“Deal.”

“I’d love to, Eds.”

A grin splits onto Eddie’s face, “Whew, thank god, I almost thought I had gotten all pretty for no reason.”

You felt giddy. Your heart was overcome with emotion, you hoped you wouldn't wake up from this dream.

But this wasn’t a dream. This was true.

Interlacing your fingers with Eddie’s you close the door and smile, “Yeah, let’s go to prom together.”

“Wait, what about Robin?”

“Ah, I already called her.”

“Oh, how presumptuous of you.”

“Big words, fair maiden, you know just how to get me going don’t cha, princess?”

#astraariel♡#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot

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