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romancingdaffodils · 1 year

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Pictures and Portraits

The Exhibition

LETS GO PART THREE

artist!wilbur x reader

3.1k WORDSSSS

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU LILLY AND JADE FOR HELPING ME OUT!! U GUYS R THE GREATEST

thank u for everyone liking my stuff i’m so grateful and i’m so happy thank you guys i love you so much i’m so glad u like my stuff

once again lilac writes pure fluff nothing but fluff always fluff

Saturday. You were stood in front of the mirror, a frown planted on your face. Desperately tugging on your clothes, you felt so dumb. Once again, you were going over the top to impress Wilbur. You had last seen him on Thursday, you felt sick with nerves. You’d spent all of yesterday texting him, he’d sent you a picture of the painting he had started when you first met. It was almost finished, you’d complimented him and his work nonstop. He’d complimented any pictures you sent, especially the ones of yourself. You decided you’d ask him about your current outfit choice, you still felt stupid.

‘Wil, can you tell me if this looks okay please :)’ you pressed send, along with a picture of your reflection in the mirror. He read the message. He started typing. He stopped. He started typing once more. He stopped.

‘WILBUR JUST RESPOND STOP DOING THAT.’ you added to your previous message. You could practically hear his laugh through the screen.

‘Sorry just had to print out that picture. You’re gorgeous dove. You’re making me feel a bit underdressed actually. Pick you up in 10.’

‘HAHA, okay. No I’m sure you’ll look great Wil :). See you in a bit.’

You panicked. Rummaging around your room, you desperately attempted to find a bag that matched your outfit. Upon finding one, you stepped out of your room and walked to the front door. You paced up and down, your stomach turning. The knock at your door came sooner than expected, you flung your door open and flashed Wilbur your brightest smile.

“Hey.” he said, smiling down at you. His hands were full, one holding flowers and the other had the sketch pad in hand. The sketch pad he had first drawn you in.

“Hi. Oh, Wil you shouldn’t have.” you replied, looking down at his hands. He simply laughed in response.

“Don’t worry dove, it comes at a price. You got a vase for these?” he said, gesturing to the flowers. You nodded and moved towards your kitchen, letting him into your flat. He closed the door behind him with his foot, following you through to the kitchen. You filled the vase with some water and then held it forwards, he placed the flowers in.

“What’s the price?” you asked, head tilted as you placed the vase in the middle of a shelf in your kitchen.

“I can’t quite get the lips right in this, do you mind?” he said, taking your hand and leading you back to the lounge. You didn’t mind at all. You sat down on the couch, your knees pressed against Wil’s who was now sat next to you. He had his pencil pushed against the page, leaning further and further in.The gap between you was barely existent. Wilbur smiled, his eyes flicking down to your lips. Your whole face felt like it was burning, he was smirking at you. “Sorry dove. I just really, really can’t get your lips right. Too pretty I think.” he stated, looking back to his sketch pad and then leaning straight back in. He was so shameless. You couldn’t reply, you were completely tongue tied.

He tilted his head as he closed the gap completely, your lips met. His hand delicately crept up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek. Both of your eyes were shut, your hand shakily moved up to the hair at the nape of his neck. You intertwined your fingers with his hair, scratching at the skin beneath it. He hummed into the kiss, the soft vibrations sending tingling sensations across your body. The butterflies in your stomach had broken free and were now attacking the rest of your body, your head was spinning. Wilbur so expertly moved his lips with yours, you couldn’t tell how nervous he felt. You couldn’t tell at all. But, he was so anxious. You turned him into a fool. He’d told you when you first met ‘You’re going to ruin me.’, and now he had confirmation he was right. You’d flipped his world upside down in the best way possible. Now he was a nervous mess, kissing someone he was so fond of. Someone who never turned him down.

He pulled away, taking in heavy breaths, eyes opening to admire your face. Your lips were still slightly parted, you looked back at him in some sort of daze. You smiled. He smiled. His hand hadn’t left the side of your face, and truthfully you didn’t want it to. Dropping down your hand to his shoulder, you delicately placed your other hand on the side of his neck. It was hot. You had no doubt your face was hot too.

“You alright?” he asked, admiring everything about you.

“Perfect.” you mumbled, you could no longer meet his eyes. You felt far too embarrassed. To you, the kiss had felt incredible, but what if it was horrendous. What if you were a shit kisser? You’d kissed people before, sure, but never Wilbur.

“You’re indescribable.” he stated, his thumb brushed over your lips. His hand still on the side of your face, the other had moved to rest on your waist now. “So, so fantastic. You’re everything. Especially for someone I’ve known four days. ” he added, eyes wandering to your lips once again.

“Y’too nice to me Wil.”

“Not nice enough.”

“You’re horrible.”

“You’re cruel.” he replied, laughing softly at your completely love-stricken expression.

“We’re going to be late.” you said, finally meeting his eyes.

“I lied, doesn’t start till one. We’ve got a good hour and a half.”

“Oh?”

“Sorry. I wanted to spend some time with you.”

“You just had to ask.”

“I know. Can I kiss you again?”

You nodded silently, he leant back in. You fell back onto the couch rest of the couch, head resting on the arm, laughing into the kiss. Your arms that had once been supporting you had turned to jelly - you had literally fallen for him. He smiled, his hand never once leaving your face. His thumb rubbed comforting circles on your cheek, the hand on your waist kept a tight grip. He slipped his tongue in, so innocently. As though it were nothing. You had both your hands on the back of his head, he was positioned above you after you had collapsed backwards. The delicate scratching sensation made his heart melt all over again. You giggled into the kiss as he squeezed your waist. His hand moved up and down - reaching your hips and then repeating the action. You were in some sort of trance. Pure adoration had control of your mind as you felt nothing but Wilbur. Wilbur felt nothing but you.

You both pull away, looking at each other with glazed eyes.

“I hope you haven’t crumpled my outfit, Wilbur.” you said, laughing lightly.

“I think that’s the least of your worries.” he replied, using his thumb to try and fix the lipstick that was smudged across the edge of your lips. It was also smudged over Wil’s lips.

“You’ve got lipstick on you.” you stated the obvious, he just raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah? Does it look good?”

“Mhmmm. It’d look better if it wasn’t all over your mouth.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You kissed me first!”

“You’re the one with lipstick on.” he teased, still trying to fix the mess of your lips. It wasn’t going very well and had just left him with a red thumb and index finger.

“Fair point. It looks a bit funny.”

“Yeah? Look what you’ve done.” he said, lifting his hand into your view. You laughed at his now tinted finger and thumb, he can’t help but smile.

“You tried to fix it. Once again it’s your fault.”

“Oh, forgive me for being kind to you.”

“You’re forgiven.”

He sat up and moved away from you, sitting properly on the couch. He stretched out his legs, knees beginning to ache. “One hour, are you excited?” he said, looking down at his watch. He turned his head to you, watching as you struggled to sit up properly. He laughed, you scowled back at him.

“So excited, I’ll get to see more of your work. And meet Joe.” you said, finally managing to sit up straight. Wilbur laughed, and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t make fun of me after what he says.” he said, grabbing your face gently and making you face him. You laughed as he squished together your cheeks.

“No promises.” you said as you swatted away his hand, laughing at him once again. “Come here.” you added, Wilbur turned to face you. You moved onto your knees, and began pressing kisses across his face, the shadow of red lips being left on his skin. You were now the artist, your muse was your canvas. He smiled, laughing as you tilted his head to get a better angle.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his hands safely settled on your hips, helping you maintain your balance.

“Working.” you responded, humming as you pulled away to examine your piece. “One sec.” you said, freeing yourself from his grip. You wandered over to a shelf and grabbed your camera. The same camera you had used the day you met. You walked back and stood in front of him, giggling to yourself.

“Photoshoot?” he questioned, you nodded in response.

“Smile!” you said, beginning to take pictures of him. He did smile. You were so unbelievably happy, so was he. “Pose! You’re a rockstar, you’ve just left your groupie.” you said, obviously joking. You were acting like the stereotypical photographers in film. He laughed in response, hair flopping in front of his face.

You captured every moment. Every smile, light laugh, deadpan, and the kiss he had blown you - you captured it all. He was so perfect, and so photogenic you were actually quite jealous. “Okay one more photo.” you said, grabbing a different camera from the coffee table. This one was a polaroid, you sat down next to him. He automatically wrapped his arm around you. You pushed your lips to his cheek once again, pressing the button. The camera flashed. You had the picture saved forever now. He reached over and took the polaroid from the camera, shaking it. You smiled up at him, he laughed.

“Y’gonna have to get this of my face, you know that right.” he said, continuing to shake the polaroid.

“No it looks nice, call it modern artwork.”

“You need to fix your lips too.”

“Oh, yeah, good point. Let me see.” you said, grabbing the picture from his hand. You smiled, it truly was a work of art. “I can’t paint, but I can do this.” you said, showing him the polaroid. He smiled.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, go on, get some makeup wipes please. I need to look semi-smart if I want to sell anything.” he replied, taking the picture back from your hand. He pulled his phone from his pocket; he removed the case, and placed the polaroid on the back of his phone. He put the case back on. The picture was now sealed behind some clear plastic that was carried everywhere with him. You tried to ignore his actions as you walked towards your bathroom, grabbing the packet of wipes. You hummed as you removed the smudged mess from your own face, quickly reapplying the lipstick. You then moved back into the lounge, Wil was sat with his legs stretched out and his arms laid over the back of the couch. It must be painful being that tall and gangly. Delicately, you sat down next to him, wipes in hand. He turned his head to look at you, smiling. It was such a genuine smile.

“I’m ruining my masterpiece.” you said, frowning as you moved to your knees once again.

“You’re restarting with a blank canvas.” Wil responded, hands resting on your hips once again. He’d never been more delighted to be so affectionate.

“I think my canvas is too good looking.” you said, beginning the quest of wiping away the red stains. He laughed, you smiled.

“Yeah? It’s a good job you’re not my canvas then. Fortunately, you’re my muse.” he said, watching you carefully. The feeling of the wipe on his face was a little funny, he didn’t mind though.

“I think I could get used to that.”

“Good.”

“Okay, all gone. Should we set off now?” you said, sitting back on your heels. Wilbur’s hands never once moved from your waist; instead he turned his body, and moved with you.

“Sounds like a plan. I think my friends are excited to meet you.”

“Yeah… something about you not shutting up about me.”

“Something like that.” he said, letting go of you and standing up. He put his hand out, you took it. He pulled you up effortlessly, he was oh so tall. “Are you ready?” he questioned, looking down at you.

“Sure.” you replied, he slowly began moving towards the door. He picked up your bag for you, tossing you the keys from it. Sweet. The two of you walked out, locking the door behind you. So, the journey began.

You arrived at the exhibition, Wil helped you out of his car, and led you through the gallery’s doors. You could’ve screamed, you were met with the different members of Lovejoy’s artwork. Ash’s cartoon style that completely contrasted Wilbur’s own realistic portraits. Mark’s work that only could be described as fast paced, and Joe’s much tamer pieces. They all worked together so well despite being so different.

“You must be Y/n!” one of the men shouted, you assumed he was Mark by the fact he had been stood next to the big sign that read ‘Mark Boardman’.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me.” you replied, flashing him your best smile. Wil squeezed your hand, a sign of ‘don’t be nervous. they’ll love you.’ you took it gratefully.

“I’m Mark! That’s Ash.” he introduced himself and then gestured to the guy with nice hair next to him.

“I’m Joe. I’ve heard a lot about you actually, Wi-“ he started, once again being quickly cut off by his taller counterpart.

“Shut up Joe.” Wilbur said, pulling you toward the part of the gallery filled with his own work.

“Not even a ‘thank you’ for setting up your stuff?!” Mark said, leaning against a wall. Ash laughed, you were smiling. It was like a family, you could understand why they were so close.

“Thank you.” Wil said, deadpanning at his friends. You laughed, Joe was smirking at you. You raised an eyebrow.

“Y/n, Wil thinks you’re ‘impeccable’ and ‘single-handedly the most beautiful person he’s ever seen’. Oh, how could I forget ‘jesus christ she’s driving me insane’.” Joe said, shouting so Wilbur couldn’t interrupt him. Wil’s cheeks were now dusted a soft pink, he was shaking his head and repositioning the framed pieces. You laughed once again, smiling at his friends once more.

“Oh, really?” you teased, looking over at Wilbur.

“That’s not even the worst of it.” Mark added, Ash nodded along with him.

“Half an hour until we’re open.” Wilbur stated, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt. His forearms were now on show, you could’ve died. You were stood awkwardly in the middle of his section, admiring his art hung on the walls. Each time he moved past you, he’d place his hands on your hips as to not bump into you. You weren’t sure if you should scream or cry, delicate touches leaving your head spinning. He hadn’t even realised he was doing it. A subconscious action that was tearing you to pieces. “Y/n, when we open up, you can sit here, if you’d like. Just so you don’t feel like you’re in the way.” Wil said, looking over to you. He gestured to a seat that was in his section. A desk with two chairs at it, it’s where transactions were made. You’d be sat, watching the art sell itself. They hardly had to do any work, though they all thought selling was the worst part - harder than the actual creation process.

You were about two hours in, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of Wilbur. He was mesmerising. He laughed along with potential customers, his art sold itself as you’d assumed. All the customers needed was a little push, a small smile, and flop of hair. Then the painting was sold, gone to a different home. Every so often, he’d look over to you and give you a thumbs up. You’d return it. He had apologised half an hour ago, he hadn’t realised how busy it was going to be. Truthfully, he’d been hoping to take you through all of the artwork in the gallery. Show you the talent that lined the walls, but you said you didn’t mind. You were quite content sitting, and watching him. Plus, you had your phone for entertainment. Then, it was his turn to completely melt. He’d never been more happy.

The exhibition came to an end, everyone looked exhausted. All of the excessively rich men and women had retreated back to their mansions, leaving the artists completely drained. Wilbur collapsed into the chair beside you, the bags under his eyes had grown tremendously.

“Hungry?” you offered, looking at him, and then to the rest of Lovejoy.

“Extremely.” Mark replied, Wilbur laughed.

“I could eat.” Joe said, looking over to Ash for confirmation. Ash put his thumbs up, you already knew Wilbur’s answer. Somehow, something told you you were going to get along well with his friends. Wil leant forward, looking at you.

“Sorry it wasn’t much of a date, love.” he whispered, directly into your ear. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, before quickly leaning back into his chair. He was so close. You felt sick, butterflies in your stomach. Wil smirked at you, eyebrows raised. You scowled back at him, he was just too mean. You couldn’t stay mad at him though, you didn’t mind it not being much of a date. You’d seen a different side to him, he was so great it was unfair.

“Can you two stop flirting please, I’m hungry.” Mark said, groaning after he spoke. Your stomach churned once again, pure embarrassment.

“Piss off.” Wil said, glaring over at him.

“To be fair, y/n did offer us food.” Joe replied, shrugging.

“You’re right. I did. There’s a nice enough pub near here, it’ll still be doing food. You wanna go there?”

“Sounds good to me.” Mark said, the rest nodded.

You were in for a long night, not that you knew it yet.

#wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #artist!wilbur #wilbur x you #please help #wilbur fanfiction #i lobe them #i’m so lonely #pure fluff

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harringtown · 1 year

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sorrow is a season

a/n: ik I've been super sporadic these last few months, but book revisions and tight deadlines have had me v busy!!!! anyways I’ve spent so so long on this and wanted to pull off some wild plot stuff but then I got busy and I figured I couldn’t just let the 2k I had go to waste and so, here we are. apologies for the wait anon, its been TOO long, but I hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie munson is dead. or is he? (aka a kas/vampire Eddie au)

word count: 4k

warnings: blood/death/violence mention

In the end, he is alone, like he always knew he would be.

Even the bats, either bored of a limp plaything or drawn away, fly off. The lightning seems to follow them, leaving Eddie alone on the grass in a cold, gray version of a place he never liked all that much to begin with.

The only thing that ever made the trailer park worth it was you. Though, to be fair, the only thing that made a lot of things in this shitty town worth it was you.

You. You, smiling at him from the passenger seat as you sing along to the radio, and you, whispering to him under the stars at midnight, and you, looking at him like you never want to stop.

He would give anything to see you one last time. To make sure you’re alive. Because he can’t be sure—he doesn’t know if his sacrifice is amounting to anything, or if you’re dying, too, just out of sight. Panic clears some of the fog from his brain.

At first, he doesn’t realize he’s speaking, calling out the word, “Please,” until his raw throat protests. Even then, he doesn’t stop, forcing his voice louder, screaming into the twisted ether.

Please, don’t take me away.

He isn’t sure who he’s yelling to, exactly, because he’s never believed in God, and even if he did, God sure as shit can’t hear him down here.

“I don’t want to die,” he says. Tears have mixed with the blood on his face, and his vision blurs red.

What are you willing to give in order to live?

The voice asks, and Eddie isn’t entirely sure it isn’t just some figment of his dying brain.

He shakes his head, letting it thump back against the grass. Above him, the dark red sky doesn’t hold a single star.

What are you willing to give? The voice asks again.

Later, he’ll understand what he’s about to do. But not yet. Not yet.

“Anything,” Eddie croaks. “Anything.”

A tall, hulking silhouette moves through the shadows, but Eddie can’t see their face, or anything, really. All of his senses disappear, and he’s lost in an endless sea of darkness.

Eddie Munson dies. And then, he wakes up.

Eddie Munson is dead.

Three months of telling yourself those words, and they still don’t sound real.

Two months since he was legally declared dead—there wasn’t a body, still isn’t, probably never will be, but in Hawkins, this is no longer a strange occurrence—and three months since you dragged Dustin away from his body, and it still doesn’t feel real.

You’re beginning to doubt it ever will. Maybe it will always be this way. You, looking out your front window every time you pass it and expecting to see his van idling at the curb. You, accidentally ordering his coffee alongside your own enough times that even the barista pities you.

You, still waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.

“But you’ll be there, right? 10 am?” Robin asks, her voice garbled through the phone.

Lounging on your bed, you push up, keeping the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder.

“10 am, on the field. I know. I’m not going to miss my own graduation,” you say.

“Our graduation,” Robin says. “And thank the heavens, because I swear to God, I don’t think I’d have survived another week with Mrs. Burton. If I had to read another sexist, poorly written poem by a long dead man, I was going to spontaneously combust.”

You laugh, but something about the words our graduation sticks to the back of your throat like phlegm. You and Robin’s. It was supposed to be three of you, though.

It’s as if Robin can hear your spiraling thoughts, because she says, gently, “If you want company, I can force Harrington to buy us beer and drive me over.”

You smile. “I’ll live. Besides, there’ll be plenty of beer at all the after parties I’m dragging you to tomorrow night.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Robin quips. “For once, I don’t mind hanging out with these people, considering I’ll never have to see most of them again.”

“One can dream,” you say.

“One can,” Robin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow.”

You exchange goodbyes with Robin and walk the phone back to the receiver, untangling the twisted cord, and hang it up. Before going back to your bed, you bring two fingers to your lips, then press them to the red electric guitar hanging over your dresser, like you do every night.

It isn’t the guitar he used to draw the very bats that killed him. That guitar was lost with Eddie.

It, along with a few tee shirts, the rings he pulled off his fingers and jammed into your hands before you left him, and a few photos, are all that remain of Eddie Munson.

You’d made a thousand plans together, and even if 99% of them were impossible, the 1% that weren’t still clatter behind you everywhere you go.

I think it’s finally my year.

1986 should have been the beginning of the rest of his life; hopefully, a life alongside you. It should have made high school and the monsters you’d fought an old story.

This, an empty grave, shouldn’t be the end.

The lock on the window in your room has been whining as long as you’ve lived in the house. A few years back, your parents tried to get it replaced, but you’d refused. You couldn’t tell them why, but you weren’t about to get rid of a built-in alarm on that window.

The whining sound pulls you out of sleep and off the mattress in under two seconds. You pull out the sledgehammer you have hidden under the bed before your eyes find the silhouette slipping through the now-open window and into your room.

Of all the nights for someone to break in, it had to be one of the miraculous few you weren’t having a nightmare. At three in the morning, that alone feels worthy of at least a tap with the hammer.

The second the figure hits the middle of your room, you lunge.

The figure ducks the swing, and jerks to the side, face illuminated by moonlight streaming in the window.

A face that can’t possibly be standing in your bedroom.

Eddie Munson. Or his ghost. Or something—

“Jesus Christ, babe, where the hell did you get a sledgehammer? Were you going to hit me with that?” Eddie exclaims, except it can’t be Eddie, because Eddie died in your arms. Because you pried Dustin off Eddie’s body. Because you’ve seen his death in your dreams every night for months.

It can’t be. It isn’t. But someone, or something, is wearing his skin, masquerading as the boy you love, and it’s the last of many, many straws.

You swing the hammer, but faster than your eyes can track, Eddie’s hand moves—you blink, and he’s holding the metal edge in one fist.

The hammer’s head is too heavy to be caught without breaking a finger—but the speed with which he moved is more troubling.

“Who the hell are you?” You snap, wrenching the hammer out of his fist, swinging again. “Get the hell out of my house, now—“

“Hold on, hold on—“ Not-Eddie backs up, hands raised, and with each second that passes, your brain files away the subtle differences. The color of his eyes, that beautiful brown, almost has a red tint in the dark. “It’s me. I swear to God, it’s me.”

“Whatever this sick game is, I’m not playing.” You raise the sledgehammer parallel to the floor and point it at him, using it to push him back toward the window. “Out.”

“Okay, okay, just—just wait.” He jumps to the side just before hitting the window, skating along the wall and darting around you. You whip around, and Eddie is there in a blink, plucking the hammer out of your hands. He tosses it onto your bed and slides into place directly between you and your weapon.

“If I wasn’t me, how would I have known how to open the window?”

Your Eddie could pop the lock in seconds. It was why you always kept it locked, because the only person who might need to get in could.

“Anybody—anything— can jimmy a lock,” you snap.

Maybe it’s your lack of a good night’s sleep in the recent past, or the darkness of the room, but you swear, he almost looks hurt.

“Harsh, but fair.” He takes a breath. “But it really is me.”

“Eddie Munson died three months ago,” you say. “I was there.”

“Yeah, I saw the gravestone. Bet my funeral had a hell of a turnout,” he says.

“Just stop. You’re not him. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not him.”

Eddie seems to chew on his words for a moment. “We met in gym class. You were a junior. I was a senior, the second time. You were hiding behind the long jump mats during the mile run, and I army-crawled my ass over to you so that ancient gym teacher didn’t bust us both. Naturally, he saw me, and the second he yelled, you shoved me out onto the track on my ass.” He grins. “I was pretty much done for, after that.”

You shake your head. “Twenty other people were on the track that day—”

“Fine. Okay.” He huffs a breath. Folds his arms over his chest. “Right, okay, so a few weeks after we started hanging out, I took you to Lover’s Lake. We ate Cheetos and drank warm Coke on the dock, and you told me about that field trip, the one to the museum in middle school. You got lost, ended up in the art exhibit for two hours until a chaperone tracked you down. After that, you couldn’t get enough of all those old—what is it? Abstract paintings.”

Your heart beats like a kick drum, so loud you’re surprised it hasn’t woken the whole house.

Eddie’s gaze darts down—and you don’t remember much of the few anatomy lessons you had, but you’d swear he looks where your heart is.

“This isn’t possible,” you say softly.

Eddie’s lips pull thin. “You kissed me outside that gas station on main because you said you were tired of waiting for me to do it.” A smile softens his expression. “And the first time you told me you loved me, we were in this room, in that bed, but you had to whisper because your parents were downstairs.” He takes a step forward. “And I said it back. Didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t whisper either, but you weren’t even pissed. Y’know, I’d only said that to one other person before you, but I didn’t hesitate.“

“No. You can’t be here.” You swallow. Shake your head. Hope is banging its fists against your ribcage, desperate to break out of the prison you locked it in. Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall.

Eddie shrugs. “But I am.”

He takes a step toward you, and when you don’t move away, he takes another. Only when there are no more steps to take does he stop, the rubber of his sneakers kissing the tips of your toes.

He doesn’t move any further, like he’s leaving the last inch up to you.

You hold his gaze. Reach a hand up and let it settle on his cheek.

“Eddie?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning into your hand. “It’s me.”

Just like that, the sob that’s been sitting at the base of your throat for months dislodges, and you throw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He still feels like your Eddie, still smells like him beneath that overhanging scent of ash.

The moment he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you, you know it’s Eddie. You’ve been in these arms so many times, you fit like puzzle pieces.

“Eddie,” you say again, voice muffled by his hair, and he just holds you tighter, so tight you can barely breathe but you don’t care.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m here.”

And for the first time in months, you can breathe.

For ten minutes, everything is like it was. Eddie is all bravado and big smiles, like the last three months never happened, and you let the lie hang because you’ve missed him too badly to pull it back. But it’s more fog than curtain, and it evaporates fast.

Eddie pulls you onto the bed and into his arms, just holding you, and the way your bodies fold together may be the same, but nothing else is.

His skin is cooler, dryer. Covered in scars. His scent, one you can’t describe but know, isn’t totally different, but it’s not the same, either.

And his eyes. He clearly took efforts to keep them out of the light—asking you not to turn a lamp on, keeping his chin ducked—but up close, there’s no mistaking it.

The deep, dark brown is more like a deep red wine someone spilled on a carpet. It’s a beautiful, inhuman shade of red. And you may have seen enough weird shit to fill a museum over the last few years, it sets off every alarm bell inside you. Like an ancient voice is urging you to run while everything else tells you to stay.

Your first observation was right. He isn’t your Eddie. He’s something different. Evolved. And you’re not sure if it’s for better or worse. You’re also not sure if you give a shit.

There are so many questions to ask, but they’d all break the bubble you’re resting in, so you settle for the softest you can think of.

“Tell me what happened to you,” you say gently, keeping your forehead pressed to his chest so you don’t have to look him in the eye; that, and because you’re trying to find a heartbeat. You haven’t. “How you survived. I’m not an idiot, Eddie. And I can only pretend I haven’t noticed that your eyes are a different color or that you move faster than you should. That somehow, you’ve been in the Upside Down for three months, and you’re not a decayed corpse.”

Eddie’s hands, steady as they glide up and down your back, your arms, your sides, stall, and his fingers curl slightly into your hoodie.

“You were there,” he says. “You saw it all.”

“Clearly, not everything. You were dead when I left—”

“Almost dead.”

“What?” you stiffen.

“I wasn’t… I mean, I was mostly dead. Kissing Death, straight on the lips, tongue and all. And then…”

“And then?”

He inhales, and says, “And then, I made a deal with the devil. A deal I can’t take back.”

You lean back. You may not have all the pieces, but you have enough to get some understanding at the full picture.

The only devil in the Upside Down is Vecna. And if he brought Eddie back—whatever the definition of back is—he didn’t go it out of the goodness of his heart.

“Eddie, what did you do?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“Look, I know you want answers, and I want to give them to you, but I…” He pauses. His hand comes up to your cheek, his cold fingers tracing a line down to your jaw. You shiver. “I’ve spent the last three months waiting for a single minute he wasn’t on my ass, watching me, and I don’t have a lot of time. So, I swear to God, I’ll answer all your questions, but right now, I just want to be here. With you.”

You frown. “You’re not staying.”

Eddie is silent for a long time before he says, “I can’t. Not yet.”

You shift back, sitting up so that only his outline is visible in your periphery. From this angle, blurry and out of focus, he still looks like the Eddie you lost. An Eddie whose biggest problem was whether he’d actually graduate this year.

Eddie sits up beside you, a hand on your arm. He exhales, dropping his chin onto your shoulder. It’s a familiar position, and without thinking, you tip your head against his, temple to temple.

“I’m still a puppet,” he says softly. “Just because he’s not holding my strings right now doesn’t mean he’s not coming back for them.”

You scoff. “If you’re just… some puppet, how are you here now? I mean, am I even talking to the real you right now?”

Eddie stiffens.

“I’m me,” he says. “A lot of the time… I’m more him than me. But right now, right here, I’m me. I’m just Eddie.” He lifts his chin. You crane your head to meet his eyes.

“I spent months waiting for a chance. V—He’s been so weak after everything that went down, he’s been stuck down there. Healing. Even when I came topside to fee—” He stops abruptly. Changes course. “But now…” Eddie pauses. It’s like he’s battling two voices in his head, one telling him to speak, the other urging him silent. “Let’s just say, he’s on a business trip, and I’m supposed to be down there, keeping an eye on things. I only had a few hours.”

“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper, like if you keep your voice low enough, the world won’t hear and jinx you.

“I know, angel,” he says. He drops his chin and presses a long kiss to the side of your head. When he pulls back, his expression has shifted, freezing over like Lovers Lake every December. His voice isn’t entirely his own as he says, “But there’s something I need to take care of before I can stay.”

“Something?” you ask. “Or someone?”

Eddie lets out a long sigh. He rolls onto his back, hands coming up behind his head, and the posture, his presence beside you, the tickle of his hair against your shoulder, is somehow familiar and foreign at once.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“I want you to stay alive—” He lifts his brows, and you huff, pressing on. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. And you know that it wasn’t some… miracle that brought me back. It was—” He stops. “If he’s still around, I’m not really me. I’m just another one of his weapons.”

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. No human should be able to hear it. But Eddie does.

“I’m gonna try,” he says.

“And if you can’t?”

Eddie shrugs. He pointedly averts his gaze as he says, “If I can’t, then I go out fighting. Maybe I can get a few decent shots in before he takes me out.”

“Eddie—”

Eddie twists, shifting so he’s half in front of you. He takes your face in his hands and forces your gaze. The angles of his face are sharper, his eyes are clearer. He isn’t the Eddie you lost, but he’s still your Eddie, under it all.

“I’m already on borrowed time, sweetheart. Might as well make it worth something.”

You shake your head. “No. That’s bullshit. We’ll just… we’ll get out of here. Tonight. We can get in my car and drive until we get to a city big enough to disappear in. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“You know, I’ve been running since I learned to walk.” His thumb traces a line up and down your jaw. “I never even thought about stopping. Never wanted to.” A sad smile ghosts his lips. “Then, one day, I met you. And I had a reason to stay. So, I’m gonna fight for it. And I’m gonna come back for you.”

Before, Eddie Munson could have won a contest for stubbornness. It appears dying or almost dying didn’t change that.

You take a breath. Close your eyes for a long moment. When you open them, you say, “You better. If you don’t, I’ll kill you. And I’ll make sure it takes this time.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and loops his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. For a long time, you stay that way, holding each other and pretending the seconds aren’t rolling by.

And then, much sooner than you’d like, Eddie peels himself out of your arms. He climbs off the bed, and you follow him back to the window. The latch whines in protest as he lifts the windowpane, like it too is dreading his departure.

He climbs out onto the roof and turns back to the window, his slender hands on the sill. His fingers look naked without their rings.

Your stomach clawing up your throat, you lift the thin chain out from under your shirt, the metal rings hanging from it clacking. You unlatch it and pull off a thick, black ring. Unlike the others, taken off him in the Upside Down, you’ve had this ring for ages. He gave it to you a long, long time ago.

You lift one of his hands, sliding it onto his middle finger. He curls his fingers around yours, squeezing hard.

“Come back to me,” you say.

“I’ll see you soon,” he says. “Promise.”

Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, and the cool touch of his lips disappears. When you open your eyes, he’s gone. Like he was never there at all.

Maybe he wasn’t.

Three weeks pass. By the fourteenth day, you’re halfway convinced you hallucinated Eddie. By the twentieth, you’re sure of it.

Call it your brain trying to process the mountain of grief inside you. Or the end of the slow spiral into madness you started three years ago, when a Demogorgon nearly dragged you through a portal in a tree.

Fantasizing a conversation with your dead boyfriend isn’t exactly the weirdest thing that’s happened. It’s better than the alternative: that Eddie is gone, for real.

And then, on the twenty second night, the latch on your window whines open.

In seconds, you’re up and out of bed, standing in the middle of your room just the way you were a few weeks ago. Staring at a silhouette near the window just the way you were a few weeks ago.

The figure half-covered by shadows is limping, and something dark drips off their hands—what you can see of them is covered in a dark substance that has to be blood.

“I know, I know, I’m an asshole. I don’t write, I don’t call…” A familiar, if not a little rough and raw, voice says, and the massive knot that’s been coiling in your gut for weeks untangles itself in an instant.

“Eddie,” you breathe, as he steps into the moonlight.

“Told you I'd be back,” he says, flashing you a smile between heavy breaths. His canines are wickedly sharp, longer than they should be, and shining with blood. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re really here? I’m not hallucinating?”

A smile twitches across his red lips.

“You’re not hallucinating. I’m here,” he says.

“For good?”

“For good,” he says. His mouth curves up, and his smile appears here to stay.

Like him.

And you don’t care how he got here. What he had to become just to be standing here right now. You don’t care what it might take to keep him here, either.

All that matters is that he’s here. Period.

So, you cross the room in three steps, and pull him into your arms. Blood and all.

taglist: @milkiane @robiin-buckley @copycatkillerfics @robinbuckleyssgf @isshecrazyorissheclever @peanutbutter-y-jams @hellfire1986baby @minksblog @comfortcharactercraze

#brooke writes fic #x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #stranger things #kas!eddie #vampire!eddie

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narcolini · 1 year

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in his shadow - pt. 4

ez reyes x oc: ava gomez (& bonus angel), 3072 words

for day 26 of whumpril, using alternative prompt: words that can’t be taken back

a/n: ahh i love making drama for the sake of drama, it’s so good for the soul

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc (let me know if u want to be tagged!)

previous part here

It’s been a week, well, a weekend and a day, and EZ still hasn’t heard from Ava. The last he saw of her, she was leaving the trailer, hair a mess, jacket and near-empty tequila bottle stuffed into her bag. It’d been good. Real fucking good. Nice, like they were dating, or something. Like there was a genuine connection between them. And then, nothing.

No text, no call.

He’s trying to be chilled about it. No biggie, because they aren’t dating, are they? They barely even know each other. Well, that’s a lie, even if it does make him feel better to think it. They’d gotten close fast enough to feel like he’s known her as long as the rest of the guys have. Longer, even. Maybe. He knows things she’s never told them. Heard the shit that goes on behind that doe-eyed expression, that endless look of kindness. It sits in her features even when she’s swearing, or chatting shit with liquor on her breath. Just endless, endless, kindness. Like she’d been drawn up by Disney or some shit.

‘The fuck you smiling about?’ Angel asks, lips tweaking like he’s in on it, catching his brother’s attention.

They’re parked up outside the sandwich place they can’t get enough of, waiting for the food coma to settle before they leave again. Angel’s reclined on his bike, head against the handle bars, EZ’s standing on the sidewalk, shoulder to the nearest pole.

‘Nothing.’ EZ shrugs. ‘Just thinking.’

‘Bout what?’

‘You want a list or something? Stuff, things.’

Angel slides the shades up from his face, into his hair. He’s scrutinising him like he knows something, or is about to. Like he can read the thoughts in EZ’s head. ‘Did you get laid?’ he asks, uncertain of his guess until he sees EZ’s chin dip in response. ‘Ho—ly fuck. Little bro finally got his dick wet.’

‘Shut up, man.’

‘Who’s the lucky princess?’ He smirks. ‘I know her?’

EZ’s head shakes. He hates when Angel’s like this, hates even more when he’s right about it too. ‘I’m not telling you when you’re being a dick about it.’

He sits up, boots planting on the ground either side of his bike. ‘Shit, it’s that serious? Why am I only just hearing about it now?’

How does he answer that? Logically, he know’s it not serious, not by their standards. Not by Ava’s either, probably. But he has to physically stop himself from saying yes, because that’s the answer that tries to fly out. Yeah, kinda. Yeah, I hope so.

‘I don’t know,’ he says instead. ‘Maybe.’

‘Maybe?’ Angel’s teetering on a laugh, pure glee at his brothers uncertainty sitting behind his eyes. He could do this for hours. ‘You gotta give me a name, Romeo. Who’s got you all caught up like this?’

EZ sighs. He’s got two options, a long death, drawn out and real fucking annoying, or the short, merciful one. Sure to sting, but quicker to fade. ‘Well,’ he starts, hanging his thumbs in his jean pockets, ‘me and Ava have kind of…’

‘Kind of…’ Angel winds his head in EZ’s vision, trying to lure the rest of it out of him. ‘Started a bookclub, or what? The fuck is it, bro?’

‘We’ve been hanging out.’

He squints, then his eyes go wide. ‘Oh, come on, Ezekiel.’

‘There it is.’ He shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve lied and said he was smiling about his fucking sandwich.

‘You slept with her?’ Angel’s voice pitches up, like he can’t believe it. ‘Damn, bro, it’s like you fucking hate happiness. My God.’

He’s shaking his head at him, but EZ’s no idea why. Honestly, he hasn’t a fucking clue. What was so bad about it? They’re both adults, they’re both single. He know’s Ava’s baggage as well as anyone, better even, than Angel himself. If anything, spending time with her had made him happier than he’s been in years. The first real good thing to happen since getting out.

‘The fuck does that mean, Angel?’

He ignores the question, muttering to himself, as he toys with the helmet in his lap. ‘That’s so fucked up, man.’

‘Why is it?’ EZ's back straightens, a defensive response. He’s starting to get irritated. ‘It was her idea.’

‘Yeah,’ Angel nods, ‘and now you’re all up in your feelings, falling in love with her, while she’s out, acting all new and sexy and shit, thanks to your dumbass self.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘What’s wrong with…’ He scoffs, looking up again. ‘You realise she’s about to go out and get a man that isn’t in a fucking MC now? Probably on Tinder already. You’re a rebound, boy-scout.’

EZ bristles, jaw clenching. He tries to shake it off afterwards, like Angel’s words are nothing at all, just noise without weight. It isn’t convincing, even he can tell that. He’s got a face like a scolded child. ‘You don’t know that,’ he says.

‘Don’t I?’ Angel laughs. ‘Been in this club way fucking longer than you, and I ain’t never seen a widow go for a Mayan twice.’

He’s right, EZ knows that. Even though he’s not seen it himself, he can recognise why. One death would put you off for good, but it isn’t like that, is it? Ava hadn’t used him as the jumping point for the return of her love life. Wouldn’t mess him about for the sake of messing about. And it wasn’t like he was in love with her, or falling, even. They were just hanging out. It was fun, mutually. It still is. It can be as simple as that, no matter what Angel puts into his head.

‘You spoken to her since?’ Angel asks.

He doesn’t answer, which says all Angel needs to hear. Tutting, laughing, head shaking like EZ is utterly clueless.

‘You’re full of shit, Angel,’ he snarks, pulling his own helmet from the seat of his bike. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Yeah, cause you’re the expert on women.’

I know her, he wants to say, clicking the strap under his chin. I know her, and you don’t, even with all the years you had to get there. Maybe it was rebound, maybe he’s the rebound, but so what, right? That doesn’t mean he’s fucked up, or ruined whatever they’d started. Ava had wanted someone to treat her like a normal fucking woman, and he’d done that, that’s all.

That’s all, isn’t it?

‘There’s someone out front for you, Ava.’

‘Really?’ She looks up from her work, hand mid-wipe over the leather seat. ‘I’ve not booked anyone in for the afternoon.’

Her colleague shrugs, not lingering long enough to explain beyond, ‘He said he’s here to see you.’

She only has a handful of male clients—eyebrows, botox, lip-filler—but none of them are due anytime soon. If one of them’s back already, then it can only be a bad thing. A complaint, maybe, a mistake on her part. God. She hates dealing with that. The guilt over it, no matter how small, is enough to knock her confidence for weeks. To make her doubt her qualifications entirely. She chucks the cloth on the side, peeling the gloves from her hands to toss them in the trash on the way past. It’ll be okay, really, she doesn’t have any clients that would hold it against her. I mean, she’s an aesthetician, not a robot. Mistakes happen. Bodies react in different ways, even if you’ve had the treatment before.

She rounds the corner, into the small shop front that acts as a greeting desk and waiting room all in one, and finds it’s not a client at all. It’s EZ, full leathers and helmet, standing dark against the blinding pink of the walls.

‘Oh,’ she can’t help but feel relieved, ‘it’s you.’

He smiles, looking shy from her reaction. ‘Yeah, hey.’

‘D’you need something?’ She pauses behind the desk, waiting as he dawdles forward. It’s obvious he isn’t comfortable here. He looks seconds from sprinting out the door, knocking fake palms trees and magazine stands on his way. ‘Did you call me?’

‘Nah, I figured I’d just stop buy. Speak to you in person.’ He puts his elbow on the desk in front of her, leaning like he’s comfortable. Or trying to be. ‘You got a minute?’

She has an entire afternoon, technically, but she also has a shit load of paperwork to catch up on. Expenses to list, lash in-fills to count. ‘Sure, I got a window.’ An hour, for him, is nothing.

She nods toward the back, inviting him to follow. They could talk here, sure, but he looks like he wants privacy. And, well, she doesn’t really want her colleagues to see them chatting in the first place. She’d got this job after Seb had died, unable to go back to her last one. So the shock of a man in a kutte, lingering in the middle of the shop, might send a gossip shockwave strong enough to unsettle her peace forever. The questions would never stop—and God knows, she doesn’t have the patience for that.

‘You been good?’ he asks, walking behind her.

‘Yeah, busy.’

‘Though I might’ve heard from you.’

She lets him into her room, and shuts the door behind. He looks just as out of place here, standing by the reclining seat, under the white lights, as he did out front. ‘I know,’ she sighs, ‘I haven’t had a minute to stop.’

He nods but doesn’t look convinced. It’s not like she’s lying, not like she has any reason too. They’d made up, she thought, more than made up. The last time they hung out, they’d ended the day on a high she’d never even imagined. Swollen lips, fresh spirit, an electricity under her skin that she’d forgotten the feeling of. She didn’t think they had any more catching up to do. Let’s call it even, he said, and then sweeten the deal on top of it.

‘Is something the matter?’ she asks, because he clearly isn’t going to start himself. He’s standing like he’s scared to move, one thigh against the leg-rest.

‘Nah.’ His head shakes, brow pinching. ‘Not really.’

‘But?’

He sighs, settling his hands on the edges of his cut, fists over his chest. ‘Honestly, Angel got in my head about something,’ he confesses. ‘Thought I could talk to you about it.’

Now it’s her turn to frown, because she never got the impression Angel had the ability. EZ’s the brainy one, the logical one. Angel surely had no way of twisting his thoughts away from himself.

‘Oh boy.’ She lets out a breath, moving to lean against the nearest counter. ‘Should I be worried?’

He smiles slightly, just enough to put it into the creases of his eyes. ‘Depends,’ he says, ‘on whether I’m a rebound or not.’

‘What?’

‘Angel thinks you’ve, I don’t know. Shit.’ He sighs. ‘Can we start that again?’

‘A rebound?’ How could he be, how could he or Angel even think that? For starters, it’s been three fucking years since Sebastian died. If he was a rebound, it was less of a bounce and more like a delayed crack, a skimmed stone that made one fucking ripple, way out into the bay. ‘As in, what? I used you to make myself feel better?’

He’s exhaling through his teeth, rubbing the back of his head. ‘That came out wrong, was trying to make a dumb joke, lighten the mood. Sorry.’

But it came from somewhere, out his lips like he’d been wondering it his whole way here. ‘No, go on. What did Angel think?’

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Well someone’s gonna have to explain that rebound line, EZ.’

He looks like he wants the ground to eat him, whole and scrambling, but he carries on. To his credit, he carries on. ‘He thinks us sleeping together was a mistake.’

She doesn’t comment on the fact that telling Angel in the first place, is the real mistake, but from the looks of him he’s knows it already. Like he regrets it enough to make her overlook it, focusing on the next problem. ‘And that matters because…?'

‘Like I said, he got in my head about it.’

‘How?’

‘How what?’

‘How did he get in your fucking head?’ she stresses, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. They’re parroting each others words like they’re speaking a different language. ‘Angel thinks a lot of dumb shit, and you never take notice of that. Why does it matter now?’

Why is it any of his business? How can something like that even be a mistake, when it’s just fun, just two people enjoying themselves. If Angel’s said she’s using EZ as a rebound, to propel herself forward in some way, why would he care, why would he—

‘Oh my god,’ she breathes, ‘you believe him, don’t you? You think I’m using you?’

‘What?’ His face scrunches, disgust showing in the kiss of his teeth. ‘No, course not.’

‘Well, you believe something, EZ. What the fuck is it? A rebound or a mistake?’

‘Neither.’ His voice is sharper now, words hardening into annoyance. ‘I just want to know what the fuck the plan is from here,’ he says. ‘Cause, you know, I’ve not heard from you at all since it happened.’

‘So, naturally, I have to have been using you?’

If she’d known he’d be this concerned, this paranoid about five days of quiet, she’d have never bothered. Honestly, she’d have never let it get past kissing in the first place. Some people can’t do just sex—Hell, she used to be one of them—if she’d known that was the case with him, she’d have stopped that train long ago. Saved them both the stress.

‘You know,’ he says carefully, like he’s holding something back, ‘you know, I wouldn’t think that.’

She flaps her arms up. ‘You near enough said it yourself, EZ. The fuck am I meant to do? Read minds?’

He turns away, just for a moment, to take a breath big enough to lift his shoulders. She watches them go up, down, up again. When he’s facing her afterwards, he looks calmer. Not believably so, but in the conscious, put on like a mask, way. He’s trying, at least. She appreciates that, as much as it does nothing for the sourness in her stomach. The quiet anger beneath her ribcage.

‘Look, I just, really didn’t know what the fuck to think, okay?’

She nods. Carry on, keep digging.

‘Angel said all this shit, and I hadn’t heard from you.’ His voice lowers a fraction. ‘And I know the stuff with Seb is always gonna be there.’

‘Make your point, EZ.’ She tries to sound commanding, but it comes out too quiet, almost like a plea. The mention of Sebastian now, right now, in relation to whatever she’s started between them, is the last thing either of them need. It doesn’t help his argument in the way he thinks it does.

‘I don’t care,’ he says, ‘if this goes no where. I don’t care if we never fucking touch each other again.’ He’s closer now, eyes intense on hers. ‘But if your plan is to avoid me forever—’

She cuts him off. ‘When have I said that?’

He waits, searching her expression.

‘I’ve been busy,’ she says, for what feels like the hundredth time, true or not. ‘I didn’t think sex came with a contract, y’know? One fuck equals three texts a day.’

He laughs, but it’s dry as anything, stripped of all humour. ‘Come on, Ava. If you don’t wanna talk like adults, I don’t know why I’m even here.’

‘Yeah, me and you both.’ This wasn’t even an issue before Angel had spoken to him, wouldn’t be something worth talking about at all, if she’d just been allowed to come back to him in her time. Of her own accord. ‘I had no intentions of blowing you off, EZ,’ she says, putting it like an insult somehow. Too highly strung to use it as the mediator she intended it to be. ‘If anything, I was really fucking happy with, y’know, whatever we’ve got going on.’

It still works, though. Words tight, or not, they land all the same, softening EZ’s shoulders. Putting a lighter breath into his throat.

‘Yeah, sure,’ she continues, ‘I’m not planning on having a relationship any time soon—but that doesn’t mean I’m using you.’

‘I know.’

‘I wouldn’t do that.’

He sighs, repeating it. ‘I know.’

‘I should’ve text you,’ she admits. ‘But I didn’t think you’d be taking advice from Angel, of all people.’

He catches the slight smile she’s offering, doubling it himself, and partnering it with a half-laugh. ‘Shit,’ he says, ‘I might kill him, actually. Think that’s probably the best solution.’

‘That or sewing his mouth shut.’

He snorts, head twitching sideways with he force of it. ‘That’d solve half my fucking problems in one.’

‘Yeah,’ she agrees, ‘me too.’ Someone should’ve thought of that sooner. ‘So, are we good? No pressure and no panic either, right?’

He doesn’t want it to be just sex, doesn’t want that to signal the end of them hanging out at all, but she equally doesn’t want it to be a promise of anything more. If he can’t meet her in the middle, then a clean break is all they have left. Back to how it was, with her as the widow, and him as the prospect. Nothing more, nothing less. Two people with one foot in the ring.

But he nods, and she sighs like the alternative would’ve made her collapse.

‘I really gotta stop saying shit without thinking,’ he says, smiling faintly.

She mirrors him. ‘True, but I have to stop saying nothing at all. Keep forgetting you you aren’t as old and fucked up as me.’

‘Woah,’ he frowns, ‘old? Come on, you got at least ten years before retirement.’

She laughs, too caught off guard to be offended. She’s got six years on him, max, but it’s not worth fighting over it now. ‘I like how you’re fine with the fucked up part.’

‘Oh, you’re definitely wrong there too. Fucked up beyond imagination, really.’

‘Mhm,’ she nods, matching his tease, ‘keep going. Your chances of never touching me again are really starting to sky-rocket.’

#ez reyes x ofc #ezekiel reyes #mayans mc fanfic #whumpril2023 #ez reyes fanfiction #2fic returns!!! im all caught up #<3

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vaguely-concerned · 2 months

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Evil Campaign/Zeblue Thoughts Extravaganza

This is a merry mishmash mess of reactions, transcriptions of some important scenes from the podcast, notes for my fics, and general happily unhinged ramblings about the Campaign: Star Wars Evil Campaign! Don't... don't look at the wordcount please

- blue definitely for sure would be dead a thousand times over if it weren't for zero but I also wish to point out that when blue was out for one night zero lost two arms and almost got annihilated by force lightning. blue is zero's emotional support little bitch boy and clearly his functioning without him goes down catastrophically

- blue's little holo-screen saver zero that goes 'I love you!' when it goes away and the fact that by the finale he's added a little holo-screen saver blue to keep him company, I'm just -- aaaaaah

between that and how earnestly giddy and glowing blue gets about how cool synox is as soon as he knows that synox can't hear him... zero I kind of get it. you're still bonkers for it of course but I do see where you're coming from I sort of want to stop him from getting thrown off any more roofs too even though he provably deserves it. No one who makes a little chibi Zero holo who says ‘I love you!’ when he’s just like bored is completely rotten all the way through, I agree with Zero there’s something in there that’s worth it

- can u believe that zero's first real appearance is leenik barely scratching his chest as if with a fingernail and then he just. chops leenik's hand clean off in one turn and moves on with his life. and he gives a shrug emoji about all the grievous bodily harm he's caused when blue tells him to stand down. He bombards blue’s inbox with cat memes. In his spare time he’s a DJ. He can crunch a man’s rib cage like a soda can with barely a flick of his wrist. He knows the tango. the perfect marriage of terrifying murdermachine and goofball

- "Zero, talk some sense into me or him" hfjdksafhsakjd obviously hilarious in itself but also... damn blue trusts zero SO MUCH

- Just me gathering some info together in one place: Zero bleeds blue, and whatever happened to him before he got his cybernetics was extensive enough that it left him on life support, so he originally turned this amount of cyborg more out of necessity than anything it sounds like. (From what they say about gank culture he probably had some modifications before that too, since Tubaik is notable for being the one person we know going ‘nah bro miss me with that shit’ completely.) He says something like ‘have you ever had to regrow a face?’ to Aava, and when there’s the whole ‘just because you can’t tell that she’s armed doesn’t necessarily mean she isn’t’ thing with the possessed Force lady he says something like ‘lost a limb last time I made an assumption like that’. He’s clearly got some Issues around it — warns Aava that ‘it isn’t pretty back there’ when she asks to see his face behind the helmet, the dark side mind reading pulls out ‘there’s no power that you possess with your broken body that could ever hope to save him’ from him. He’s 53% cybernetics, making him just barely more machine than man haha. His legs are at least partially cybernetic — he has them glutes and thighs Synox is checking out. Someone says something about an exoskeleton at one point, but I’m not sure how seriously we’re meant to take that, it might have been a joke. His first appearance in Campaign proper really emphasizes that he has one cybernetic eye, but it doesn’t really come up again once the character solidifies so *shrug* I suppose he might still have that going on behind the helmet screen. He has a math chip in his head and he regrets installing it because he hates math. I love him very much

At this point I’ve stopped trying to get actual Star Wars canon ganks to make sense and declared that as far as I’m concerned hashtag Kanan gank facts reign supreme. As such: Kat agrees on calling Tubaik ‘a fox-dog sort of person’ (and jesting comparisons are drawn to various Starfox characters lol). A little under six feet tall (most wolf/cat/dog species are GIANT, for no reason [transcriber’s note: it’s for the sake of blue and the furries]). Rangy, with a short muzzle. I think Zero is probably even a bit taller than Tubaik, since Blue is actually pretty tall and Zero is noticeably taller than him again, from the Vibes.

In short: Edge of the Empire ganks look cool as fuck in an edgy teenage guilty pleasure character design kind of way, canon Star Wars ganks look like absolute bow-legged dorks

- blue instinctively calling out for zero first thing after coming around from being stunned and zero reflexively asking blue if he's alright before being like 'wait wait why am I asking you that when the solarium's open to space and you’ve been standing here the whole time go help synox' fhsdfa

- (blue re: the story behind synox' butt tattoo lol) "Details? and will this story not make me cry, like the last one?" lmao oh that's... so cute to me somehow. Gather round for war story time with good old Uncle Synox (17) on the Bluebird.

- Hilarious that Blue and Aava are both like ‘hell, Synox, don’t be so down on yourself, you’re a catch!’ and Zero takes a hard stance of ‘he’s mid at best honestly sry :I’ fhdskjfa. Guess Zero goes more for twinks

- I am building out a lot of dramatic backstory for Zero in this that isn’t even hinted at anywhere in the original text, but I do think I’m backed up by the self-evident truth that anyone who’d fall in love with Blue already must have something deeply wrong with them

- Blue’s momentary sincere tired incredulity that Corvanus (Corvanas? Who knows) is trying to tell him they’re just buying food and medicine on Metalorn is so funny to me fhsjdfhas. Also the fact that he is SO ready to double-cross everyone immediately. Like no doubt in my mind that he would have fucked over corvanus too as soon as it became the least bit convenient to him, but he really does go and collude with a rebel in his very first arc because some guy kind of annoyed him and it might serve his interests. He’s been a minister for like. A month and a half at this point. Stunning. Splendid. No notes. He’s got the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair and it fills me with wonder and affection in equal measure.

- added bonus and new entry into the Blue Hypocrisy Hour gameshow: zero calls blue ‘kid’ not half an hour before they meet with the condescending rival minister and blue doesn’t even react. He really said ‘zero’s got roasting rights over me and you do not. The punishment is death btw make peace with whatever god you think will stoop to taking you in’

- ZERO HAVING BLUE’S LIFE SIGNS UP IN HIS HUD WHILE HE’S IN THE HOSPITAL AND CONSTANTLY CHECKING IT FOR REASSURANCE *insert elmo surrounded by flames gif here*

- The way Tyler makes Zero’s voice slightly higher and softer when he’s out of the helmet… emotional terrorism specifically directed upon me and my person

-“Where’s Blue? Is Blue okay?”

augh……………………………

- man I love aava. What an interesting character. Like the very idea of anyone taking Tamlin away from the Mynock crew makes my heart shatter into a thousand pieces but it is easy to see where she’s coming from.

- Blue twirls his hair around his finger when he gets bashful and Zero knows that………… omg

Also another testament to Blue’s ultimate character I think: he sends himself fake fanmail (lmao) superficially to praise himself and his work, but actually to ask Zero for reassurance that they’ll be together to the end and to tell him how important he is to him in just… the most bafflingly roundabout elaborate non-committal way fhdsja. Like yeah he is a raving egomaniac but under that is always ‘...but do you like. Like me?? We’re friends right???’. He doesn’t deserve it but I do kind of feel for him. imagine facing the mortifying ordeal and indignity of being twenty years old and the most pathetic person alive. Shudder. Glad that’s over with at least

- Say what you want about Blue but truly he is not a coward. He doesn’t even scream when Tryst shoots out his kneecap and in fact does not back it down with the attitude at all afterwards. Fhdskjafs he asks Tryst to carry him and makes him! (like yeah yeah we already know you’re gay blue). Literally too insufferable to be cowed. Isn’t the capacity of the human spirit spiked with caf and megalomania beautiful

- Commander Synox and the happy private world of ‘Pincer Maneuver :)’. I love him so incredibly much

- I want you to know that my insanity levels have reached the point that I’ve trawled fucking twitter for content. I’ve been using the search function on twitter. Yes I am desperate. Yes half of the posts are gone even aside from the awful format twitter already imposes. I have spent hours in the Musky muck for a scattered few nuggets of gold and it has been worth it but STILL entering a small fandom years later is a special kind of hell and I would not wish it on my worst enemy (this was written before musk went ahead and crashed the whole thing definitively into the iceberg early in June 2023 lmao. My point still stands tho. The things you do for love)

- Zero describing working directly for the empire as ‘ew, gross’ is so funny lmao. Okay buddy you keep desperately repressing your own complicity I understand why

- “Master? Thaaaat’s — I gotta tell you, that… Friend? Employer? Confidante? Drinking buddy? He’s, he’s a good guy. Uh…”

<3 <3 <3 also the way he immediately tries to walk it back with ‘it’s mostly professional istg’ and then by the end of the arc (so literal hours later) he gives it up as a bad job and just. Is so sweet and gay about it while aava is right there and can see it. The zero in agent zero stands for ‘no (0) chill whatsoever’. (also ‘confidante’ along with some of the dialogue they have when they’re alone in a scene implies some very sweet things about their relationship to me and I’m glad Zero has found this in his life even tho it does also mean being inextricably connected to one of the most exasperating people in the galaxy lol)

- Agent ‘yes he is incredibly annoying yes I would kill, die and live for him hope that helps’ Zero and Aava ‘it really doesn’t but good for you honey’ Arek; Ultimate Bros. They really became best bros after hanging out for one (admittedly mutually harrowing) day huh

- The fact that Blue and Zero coordinate their outfits and vehicles, including Zero’s arm…

- does zero eat ice cream through a straw. He must, right. These are the important questions. Hopefully he and blue figure their shit out asap so he can have his helmet off comfortably and experience eating ice cream with a spoon again at least in a private setting b/c that is Sad to me somehow

- “You just asked me to go to the gala with you, with documents that I forged, to show up another minister! What could possibly be more romantic than that?” and “I need a trophy husband!!” (Aava: “*genuinely bewildered* and why does that equate to a dress in your mind???”) *sniffle* I’m so used to giving and now I get to receive ��

The fact that Blue apparently had that dress made to Zero’s measurements before he knew about the gala too is very… Blue Blue we need to talk, explain the strange workings of your mind here please some of the implications across this whole arc — mind boggling, flabberghasting, deranged in the most delightful way there is something so deeply wrong with this man (affectionate despite myself)

- there’s nothing that makes me clutch my face and weep like contemplating all the ways Synox and Bacta are actually very similar. And yet. And still. And here we are and these are the things we’ve done to each other brother. It’s such an interesting way to show off character, having two people with so many shared basic instincts (they are the nature’s Team Dad wet blankets (affectionate) of their respective crews lol) who make such different moral choices about it and end up in such different situations.

- “Love’s a bind. Feelings. Bind” fhdsakj oh zero. Also why did you think having a poetry book about this just casually on you would be less incriminating

- I have a big place in my heart for Aava/Synox. Knowledge of exact placement of buttcheek tattoo? Canonical fake dating backstory to work with? Aava will call him things like ‘babe’ and Mr. Synox ‘that’s not regulation ma’am’ doesn’t even lift an eyebrow? yes good excellent wonderful (tbh I also quite like tryst/aava and synox/that one art thief nemesis from the dear bluebird letter — campaign star wars is one of the extremely rare pieces of media where I’m mostly a multishipper. It’s only blue and zero who have got such a weird intense obsessive thing going on with each other that I can’t really see (or wish it upon lol) anyone else getting in on it on that level, other than that all combinations are pretty plausible to me and I can see this sea of queer disasterness freely intermingling haha. Thank u campaign for letting me taste the peace and equanimity it is to be a multishipper, I’m normally out there putting all my eggs in one emotion basket like a damn fool)

- It’s so funny that Zero just lets Blue decide the colours his arms come in. Big ‘happily letting his partner buy his underwear for him kinda man’ energy despite how stylish he is otherwise

- Synox may be the character that makes me laugh the most in all of Campaign. There’s just something about his dry nasal little straight man voice saying something awful that tickles me so very much. I love him utterly you all just don’t know him like I do listen —

- Synox: “I will say — I really admire the cybernetic thighs and, uh, and glutes that Zero —

Blue, vehemently agreeing just a little too quickly to not have given this A Lot of thought himself: “Sturdy.”

Synox: “-- that Zero has, yeah.”

Blue: “Sturdy.”

Zero: “Powerhouse.”

Synox: “Very firm and sturdy, able to withstand any sort of rocking on the ground or anything like that… Sometimes, in the heat of battle, I find myself admiring just how well those machines function.”

Zero: “...wait, are you checking me out in battle? I mean, that’s fine, but —”

Synox: “Just to make sure —”

Blue, darkly in the background: “No, he isn’t.”

Synox: “ — make sure your firm is standing… is standing tall and proper.”

Zero: “Why are you sweating so much?”

Synox, strangled: “Is it hot in here? Is it?”

Blue: “I’m only gonna say this once. Synox, back off.”

What a way to send the Evil Campaign off honestly

- Blue casually saying it took like 15 to 20 minutes for him to decide he wanted Zero around for life I’m just — Blue will literally say the most insanely sweet and romantic things solely and only when he’s not aware he’s doing it huh

- for someone whose blorbo love language is fondly dragging them I haven’t made fun of zero nearly enough in this but like… remember when his main objection to blue’s (patently insane) ‘we need to get a kid to pretend to be a perfect nuclear family for the cameras’ idea was ‘yeah I’ve got like nineteen hours to work with here blue I can’t make that happen for you’. That was where he decided the problem was with this. OK simp king

- Zero’s real and deep love for Blue truly comes out in the fact that after all these years he still insists on trying to teach him self defense on a regular basis. The boy’s a twig zero he’s more of a danger to himself than to anyone else and I refuse to believe he could even make it through a pushup. And yet I understand why you must at least try

- Blue going ballistic at the dude on Metalorn for calling him a kid while being like ‘well you know what difference of opinion here but fair enough I can respect that!’ at Synox aCTUALLY POINTING A FUCKING BLASTER AT HIM AND FIRING TWICE… blue I love you you are strange and unhinged and your priorities are rancid

- Credit where it’s due: Blue’s plan for taking over Phindar for the Empire is actually kind of clever; I wonder if that was something he’d planned for a while or if he came up with that one basically from the hospital bed? He has apparently been going to BHIKKE with Zero for years (even if he does nothing but complain the whole time, predictably, lol and Zero referring to him as ‘his date’ awww) so I can see how the idea could have been percolating in the back of his mind. Either way it’s not a lot of recovery time between the whole getting thrown off a roof thing and the broadcast he does. You get to see so many of his foibles and neuroses in the Evil campaign that it’s easy to forget he actually like. Succeeds at stuff quite frequently too lol Zero has such faith in him for a reason I guess. Did he reach his position by being insane??? (I mean yeah that too. Also Tarkin apparently just collects younger evil gays he’s going to throw in the trash and steal all the accomplishments of once it becomes convenient so that probably did something here. A Krennick is a coincidence, a Krennick and Blue is a pattern)

- Blue: “I’m not concerned with that position. What I am concerned about is personal goals. And that is something I have in spades. I don’t know what your personal goals are, Aava; that’s why I can’t connect with you. But I have goals, I have aspirations, I have things that I want to complete, and when I complete these things, it makes me whole.”

Aava: “And they don’t have to do with getting any sort of recognition from the Empire?”

Blue: [sounding faintly puzzled to be asked] “No.”

This is where my brainrot truly set in I think. ‘When I complete these things, it makes me whole’ and suddenly you understand so much more of what the fuck he’s doing and why it’s never going to work and I’m just — SCREAMING. You fool. You poor stupid idiot. For Zero’s sake if nothing else I wish you a very get well soon and get your priorities in order (tbf the dice stepped up on this one later in the arc I think there’s reason to hope)

- Raxus:“I can feel you. You are clever to have gotten this far. But I can feel your fear. Fear of death. But not yours — how noble. You fear the death of another.”

Zero: “I’m not — you’re not in my head.”

R: “The one you care for… you’re a very nurturing creature. You create these attachments very easily. Looking for a smaller, weaker thing to be the strong arm for.”

Z: “Get out of my head.”

R: “YES! Anger! Yes! That is what I want. Yes, your anger and your fear — hmm, it slakes the hunger of the Fanged God.”

Z: “You don’t know — you don’t know what you’re talking about, you don’t know me.”

R: “I know everything that I need to know about you. I have tasted the blood of the warrior you are many times before. So often do your feelings drive you to victory… but you face the Fanged God now. You’ll be a worthy sacrifice. And after our battle, I will find him, and I will strike him down. Know this: his death is fated. The Fanged God will taste his blood, and there’s no power that you possess with your broken body that could ever hope to save him.”

New ping to Aava: “Zero: Kriff. (transcriber’s note: lol) She sees me. Or she… feels me.”

+ (about Aava trying to save the possessed lady with a ritual instead of killing her) Zero: “We have two different objectives. She threatened Blue!”

So fucking sexy across the whole spectrum tbh. Emotionally dramatically psychologically sexually interpersonally narratively, this fucks. Zero is the ultimate service top and I support him so much. He’s A Very Nurturing Creature and he found this pathetic ginger trash racoon baby in a dumpster doing the knife cat meme; he never stood a chance. Also so kinky fhsadkfhsa he. Enjoys being wielded, does he. Goodness.

Aava saving Raxus from Zero’s righteous wrath only to have Synox swing in and shoot her dead right after is PEAK comedy and I’m so happy about it

- Aava and Zero teaming up to come up with brand new silly nicknames for Synox casually through a conversation is so blessed. Aava comes out with ‘Syclone’ at one point fhkdjfhask. Syguy. Syclopse, even.

- Transcript of The scene after the gala:

As Aava and Zero are having this conversation directly in front of Blue, Blue’s head just sorta sinks down again. And his whole body sinks down — he just drops to the ground, sits on his ass, puts his back to the bannister that’s behind him. Throws his cane off to the side.

B:“It’s been a mess of a night. It’s been a mess of a life. I — I came from, what some would say a lot, what some would say was very little, to, to make a name, and I’ve — I’ve made a name, I have made a name that I thought matters. But every time I come to one of these events, I’m the butt of the joke. I’m the butt of the joke before I get here, I’m the butt of the joke while I’m here, I’m the butt of the joke to my face; my friends who came with me — I’m the butt of the joke right in front of them. Right now… how am I supposed to function in that type of environment? How can any person deal with that level of stress? The only thing I am is what a success I am, and I am not actually a success. I’ve convinced one person in the entire Empire to give me a shot, and that was Grand Moff Tarkin; I have done one thing successful in my entire career, and — I sit in a room with people laughing at me.

Zero, you wanna go home? Go home. I pay for a bodyguard, not because I need a bodyguard, I pay for a bodyguard so you’ll be here. Aava?”

A: “Mhmm?”

B: “You’re an evil, evil space witch.”

A: “Morality is real relative, Blue. I take exception to ‘evil’, and I wish you wouldn’t use it.”

B: “And you have very annoying beliefs on philosophy. But you are one of the few people I trust in a deadly situation, and that’s why I asked you to be here.”

A: “...at a gala?”

B: “Does it get any more deadly?”

A: [crestfallen] “YES! Blue… yes.” She sinks down on her knees next to him. “These things aren’t that scary.”

B: “You can handle these things.”

A: “Yeah.”

B: “I — listen. I know you see me as a rock.”

Z: [Flatly & immediately] “No. No one sees you like that. You’re like…”

B: [:’( ] “Really?”

Z: “Yeah. You’re like… at best you’re wet sand. Like, you’re able to take a lot of different shapes, but —”

B: [interspersed] “These — these are the insults to — to my name and — I — very hurtful—”

Z: “ — but at any kind of, like, opposition — a water current, even a little bit of rain, and you start crumbling apart.”

A: “There’s a difference —”

B: “Knives to my heart right now.”

A: “ — a difference between an insult and an observation.”

Z: “Yeah…”

B: “Uh, I’m not, I’m not seeing the difference between the two in this particular instance.”

Z: “No, keep going, keep going, I feel like we got a bit, side tracked you with…”

B: “Yeah, you did, okay, where were we — you all see me as a rock.”

Z: “Nah. I gotta say — again… no, we should — ”

A: “You’re very shaky. As an individual.”

Z: “Yeah. Mhm.”

A: “Both physically and mentally.”

Z: “It’s real easy to get under your skin, and I feel like — like once, you do it one time and the whole week is ruined, and…”

B: “I’m a sensitive guy, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Z: “Okay, okay, yeah — continue. Just, not a rock, but, uh, continue. [muttering all in one breath] Okay go ahead.”

B: “You all see me as a rock. But I’m actually a sensitive guy. Every now and then you can see glimpses through, to the true Blue. And I’m a little blue, sometimes. Events like this, I thought this would be — this would be my time. Could show up someone, could be Blue, I wouldn’t be…the guy being laughed at, wouldn’t be the kid. That’s what they call me in that room, you know it.”

A: [softly] “You’re pretty young.”

Z: [also more softly] “Yeah, man.”

B: “I don’t like being called a kid. I don’t like being treated like a kid. I don’t like being treated like the person who doesn’t belong in that room. Zero, did anyone think you didn’t belong in that room? Aava, did anyone think you didn’t belong in that room?”

A: “Probably.”

Z: “No.”

A: “You don’t know that.”

B: “I do know that!”

A: [sighs] “They also don’t believe Zero belongs there. Because, the thing is — he’s a bodyguard. And I’m an alien. And there are starting to become problems with being an alien. Are you not paying attention to what the Empire is doing, Blue?”

B: [slightly affronted] “I’m paying very close attention to what the Empire is doing. Yes, there are xenophobic people in here, but that’s not the large reach of the Empire. (tone implies a little bit of a …?)”

A: “It’s also what you are promoting. It’s what you’re creating.”

B: “Hm, you gotta do what they want you to do, to a degree.”

A: “Right, I’m not talking about that, I’m just saying that — that’s the increasingly predominant culture.”

B: “...do you think so?”

A: “Yes.”

B: “So you don’t feel like you belong here either?”

A: “No.”

B: “Zero, do you feel like you belong here?”

Z: “Aaah, I don’t belong here, and I don’t wanna be here.”

B: “Well, the ship doesn’t get back for another four hours. And if the three of us don’t belong in that room… why don’t we order some damn drinks and have our own little party here?”

Z: “I talked to the guy at the bar, uh, he says he’s gonna be breaking out the cherry mimosas soon. Maybe get a sneak peak at that guy, and… I don’t know, maybe see if we can get access to Jakar’s cruiser and… mess up the engine?”

A: “Yes! Yes!”

B: “I’m fully on board with this.”

A: “Yes! Yes!”

B: “Waiter! Three mimosas and the largest wrench you have!”

Ah yes here it is… ground zero for my all-encompassing insanity. Can u believe that the dramatic climax of the Evil Campaign as it ended up is just proving once and for all that Blue has a soul somewhere in there. It took a dice roll damn near close to divine intervention, but we got there. The Force is real and it ships Zeblue.

- the fact that the pivotal moment at the end of the evil campaign is blue rolling a fucking insight check on himself. Like that check was not about aava or zero b/c they’ve spelled their side of it out Very Clearly. That was just to find out if Blue has any idea about his own bullshit. He basically just obliviously speedran processing Some Shit about internalized homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality in a frenzy and in the least graceful way imaginable and made it the problem of everyone he loves and that was the subtextual background theme, there was so much other stupid shit going on in the foreground the whole time as well. Wild. what a strange and beautiful world we live in. what a weird little dude (affectionate). Zero’s weird little dude. Also genuinely that conversation leading up to it was more stressful to me than 90% of all horror movies lol you do not need an action scene to keep me riveted you just have to offer up some prom night drama and I’m out here biting my nails. The fellow autistic ‘blue you are getting an F- in being a person something that is possible to achieve and normal to dread’ trauma response

- Zero (RIGHTFULLY!) being so hurt and mad at Blue and still just holding his caf and giving it to him after he’s finished his own… I’m sorry 0ni it’s love and it’s terminal

- Also Zero is extremely valid for being upset about all the shit Blue pulls in that arc but there is also the element of like… some of the lack of clarity in that relationship is on Zero too for taking the easy out of claiming he’s mostly in it for the paycheck again and again. Like for god’s sake don’t let the little trash man off the hook for any of the nonsense that just went down but you have also not been communicating what you want from this, and he is actually doing his best to provide you with the stuff you have told him you want. He’s SO interpersonally stupid and you know this, you know him, he is not going to miraculously sprout the ability to intuit your deepest hopes and dreams from nothing, especially when you specifically keep deflecting away from them fjhsdkjhfa you can’t both keep playing chicken forever

They clearly have a really intense and intimate connection and seemingly have from very early on (again blue says it took him fifteen minutes to know he wanted zero around for life so like jot that down I guess wtf), but the heavy romantic and sexual undertones to their relationship (at least in any mutual or realized way) are presumably quite a recent development — Blue met and hired Zero when he was 14/15 and from the Vibes I’d say Zero is probably about a decade older (ETA: checked the wiki and campaign twitter and that does indeed seem to be right); he seems to have had a pretty storied career and a huge life-changing injury he’d cyborged himself through already. So for the first time Zero knew him, Blue was a kid, and you can absolutely see traces of that in how they interact sometimes. Not quite parental or older brother territory, but certainly a sort of nurturing caretaking thing that makes a lot of sense once you know Zero was around for Blue’s most undignified teenage years and probably is the only reason he survived them because you know he was pissing so many people off left and right haha.

In the Metalorn arc especially we repeatedly see Blue turning to Zero for guidance more like you would from a guardian than a bodyguard or employee or even a friend. (See: the “Awww but I wanted to rampage :(“/”We’ll go out and rampage some other day, buddy, does that sound okay?” convo especially haha but that same vibe pops up in lots of places. Actually taking the advice Zero gives is another thing entirely of course.) There’s also his complete conviction in Zero’s abilities that edges on the touchingly naive — “You’re Zero!”, like more than anything that’s got an edge to it of the utter faith a small kid has that their parent can do anything, because they always fix things.

We never hear anything about Blue’s parents and he certainly seems to be completely in control of his own estate and money, so my assumption is that they’re probably dead? My personal headcanon is that he hired Zero because his parents died (read: were politically assassinated) and wanted both security and revenge, but even aside from that I think we can read from his entire *gestures vaguely* deal that there was some deeply lacking parenting going on from the beginning haha I think I said somewhere before that if any character has ever had My Parents Never Loved Me energy it’s Blue.

And then you get to the place in the timeline where the actual podcast runs, where Blue is a grown man now, and they’re much closer to actually being equals in some ways and it’s opened ahem some new doors, but also the seesaw of their dynamic haven’t quite settled into that balance yet (and has some real hurdles they need to clear re: the employer/employee aspect of it all as well, messy power balances all around here) and it’s a bit of a Struggle, which is some of the subtextual throughline I’m seeing through their whole arc.

So while of course part of the imbalance in their relationship is that Blue is Zero’s employer, and also wields power politically in ways Zero doesn’t (and couldn’t, because of the anti-alien policies of the Empire) and also is awful in his own strange special little ways that must be pretty hard to live with lol, there’s also all this other stuff, like the age gap where Zero is older, more experienced and capable out in the world and in relationships (also more psychologically stable in general but that’s damning with faint praise I suppose), and that their relationship must have shifted in some key ways quite recently as Blue is growing into adulthood. It’s so weird and messy and interesting at the same time that it’s oddly comforting and domestic and incredibly mutually tender-hungry and I am obsessed with it. Most of my writing energy has probably gone into picking apart ‘...so why doesn’t this feel creepy’

- Sort of adjacent but also fascinated by how, to Zero, Blue seems to be some insane combination of ward and liege lord (as a public thing much much more so than a private one I think but no matter what it seems deeply kinky haha) and friend and boss and brother and purpose and partner and someone he’s clearly grown to desperately want to kiss in recent years despite the warning signs etc. What if you were one of the coolest guys in the galaxy and you met a terrible little nerd guy who gives your life meaning. Zero having such a drive towards being something to someone. He likes being the right hand, the sword, and what does mutuality look like here. It’s a delicious sort of equal partners/conspirators and fealty dynamic going on it’s very interesting

- Zero’s priorities are hilarious and wonderful to me honestly. Working, however indirectly, for an Empire that is, for sure, very eager to eradicate him and people like him eventually? Mild unease and distaste at worst, eh, it’s a living, in this economy what can you do, I go where he goes. Blue not paying attention to him for 24 hours? Meltdown. Personal and spiritual crisis. I cannot live or thrive under these conditions.

- is it logistically likely that Blue has never seen Zero’s face under the helmet before? Probably not, honestly, it’s been like six to seven years and presumably he must at least have done research on Zero to have hired him in the first place. Is it thematically delicious if he hasn’t but some day soon will? Yes. And that trumps everything else lol

- The fact that the Bluebird crew have karaoke nights and ice cream Sundays. And Synox is being so brave about it.

- Blue going “We are in public!” to Zero. married vibes. Also the choice of calling the hired killer he employs ‘pretty’ while he’s moving him around (which Zero must be partially letting him do because he would need to tense one (1) muscle to resist all the force Blue is physically capable of extending). Many thoughts.

- What if Blue’s family was like… nouveau riche though. What if the wealth happened in the generation of his grandparents at most and it was based in some sort of ingenious patent in agricultural engineering or whatever because they were farmers originally. Genuinely groundbreaking stuff in that field that increased agricultural yields across the galaxy (or some significant amount of biomes, at least) and everything, but hardly something to build a political career on in the Empire. Making sense of how completely disdainful Blue gets at the idea of being a farmer because Blue is nothing if not a complete hypocrite lol

This also makes some sense out of him having both seemingly unlimited funds but also a mountain-sized chip on his shoulder to me haha. He never denies that the credits sure do help kickstart a career, but at least in his mind (BIG YMMV disclaimer on the actual facts of the situation of course lol) he’s also starting from a disadvantageous situation in other ways. He says: ‘I came from what some would say was a lot, what some would say was very little, to make a name’ (implying the name has not ‘been made’ before him, despite the embarrassment of resources his family clearly has had at their disposal?). Having him be from a non-warrior clan in Mandalorian culture and/or an established family who’d fallen entirely out of relevancy until very recently is my solution but also it’s fun that as short as this campaign is there’s enough great Stuff in it to make for this amount of theorizing haha.

ETA: so I scoured the campaign twitter back to 2016 (*gentle sobs are heard in the background*) and apparently Blue’s parents were pacifists and (from what I could read out of it) probably connected to Satine’s system/new nobility! This matches up pretty well with what I’m going for already so that’s nice

- Commander ‘Overprotective Dad’ Synox sending a whole little squad of stormtroopers for Aava and Zero after their speeder blows up……………

- zeblue is just…

Zero: *sigh* I want to fuck him so bad it makes me look silly😔

Blue, heartbroken and jealous: WHO??? Who is this mystery man I must kill I mean vet before you kiss him

Aava: you do look very silly but unfortunately I am in no position to judge

- Synox sending Blue reading material about traditional Mandalorian warrior culture because it’s Their Heritage and Blue being like ‘lol. Lmao.’ and not reading a word of it is sooooo… listen their dynamic has Layers. There’s some Stuff going on here. It’s Mandalorian fuckery all the way down. Blue is Mandalorian and fits much better in the mold Satine tried to fit the culture into, but he uses that to dedicate all his time and energy to presenting Synox, who’s in that weird liminal space of Mandalorianness of all clones what with their training and origins, as a new modern soldier’s ideal for the Empire but shorn of all distinctness or cultural specificity and that’s the thing they make together for the Empire. There’s that disdain in Blue’s view of the culture he comes from, and yet he has such a good eye for the appeal of elements of it in Synox (and also a lot of stuff about the presentation of masculinity in here haha. Blue has a Fine Eye for it. Who knows why. Could be no reason at all. Who’s to say)

Also probably not something to read into but from Synox’ comments, Blue’s music sounds notably non-Coruscanti (what it does sound like, presumably, is ‘a fucking cacophony’)

- Zero and Blue audibly high fiving in the background when Zero gets the ‘I’d never betray you’ right on the second try fsdfjad ah Friendship

- “why do you need a bodyguard?”

“Look at me!”

Amazing self-own from blue outta nowhere jfsjda

- gentle reminder that after talking to jacinto reth, blue spends the rest of the metalorn arc absolutely drenched in caf. He does his little sales pitch to corvanus presumably covered in duracrete dust and definitely caf. The fact that it almost kinda worked is a miracle basically I guess people are just taken aback by being talked at loudly and confidently by a dude who looks like he’s barely out of middle school

- Zero drawling “You’re just so wildly efficient” on his and Blue’s private line is extremely… it’s very…. Several points in this first episode where you’re just like ‘HOW! HOW are they not already fucking’ lol. (To which the answer seems to be: Probably because Blue does not seem entirely clear on what sex is yet. Man the BDSM Dear Bluebird sure was a ride but it also explains so much) He’s just talking about how he’s going to get paid to watch Blue smile. Keep it in your pants Agent Zero you’re in Louphan’s office fhdsjkah

- “Zero, just — honestly. Did I act unprofessionally or rash in this situation?”

(sounding slightly defeated) “We didn’t act any differently than we normally do. It’s just that —”

Why is this so funny to me. So that really is just how they’ve been rolling through the galaxy is it. This is just how they live.

- The immediate shift in tone between Zero and Blue once Synox leaves the room so they’re in private and Zero freely freaking out is everything to me fhdsjakfhas it’s so… domestic. Like they’re both putting up public fronts for Synox and then collapsing into unvarnished intimate back and forth chaos the moment they’re alone.

Z: “HE DIDN’T MOVE AT ALL!”

B: [giddy]: “I know, it was really badass!”

Z: [indignant] “What, are you kidding me, are you on the droid’s side??”

B: [still equally giddy] “Well, clearly I’m not!”

I think Blue just gets off on seeing Zero do cool stuff honestly lol

- Zero, turning to Synox: “If you draw a gun on him again, you lose that hand” SO sexy. Oh to have someone who will back you unconditionally even when you are 100% for sure the problem in this situation hahaha. Oh to feel that ride or die certainty for someone. Oh to be that utterly selfish.

- I am making But if you saw him when he isn’t putting on that front… it’s worth it. Somehow do so much work in this fic I am taking so many things on faith but also I think I am right to. Zero might be besotted but he’s also not a fool, if Blue was genuinely a nightmare to deal with interpersonally (like one on one) most of the time I don’t think he would have stuck it out this long haha. Considering that the minister posting is a relatively new development I could see all that stress exacerbating what was already a less than pleasant/stable personality at the outset

- relistening to campaign from the beginning and getting to zero’s introduction scene again is such a ride. The first time around you’re just sitting there in ‘uh-oh leenik!!!!’ dread and then the second time my reaction was ‘AW LOOK IT’S MY GOOD GOOD FRIEND AGENT ZERO :D OMG HI’ as he walks away drenched in blood fhsakjd

His BIG SIGH at blue talking to him over comms and telling him to stand down… there’s a little bit of early appearance weirdness going on with him in the beginning (like his weird growly voice hfsjkda) but that is pitch perfect. That is spiritually correct for him.

- Zero (breaking Aava off during a Dear Bluebird where a Sith-adjacent sort of person is asking what to do with their murderous underling): “You give ‘em something to do, keep their hands busy. But also, you gotta think about why this person is insisting to kill so many people. Is he trying to impress you? Is he going after some attention you’re otherwise not giving him? These are all things that can feed into outlashing — acting out, taking out your aggression on something else. Whether that be meaningless tasks, or the blood of another species.”

Aava: “Absolutely! It’s a master/student relationship, and if you’re not being an adequate master to this person, then to my mind they have full right to rebel.”

Zero: “They gotta get satisfied some way.” [transcriber’s note: GOTTA GET SATISFIED SOME WAY that’s how you chose to phrase it is it? I was willing to let ‘Is he trying to impress you? Is he going after some attention you’re not giving him?’ go, but ZERO!!! BUDDY!!!!!]

Blue: “...Zero, do we need to — do we need to have a conversation? You’ve flipped the last three Scrabble boards, and now, based on, on your answer — you okay? You getting everything? Do we need to do Sunday night ice cream again? What’s going on with you, buddy? Huh?”

Zero: “Sometimes, the Bluebird isn’t as big as you think. And I just kind of want to stretch out, and there’s so many training sessions going on all the time, and everyone’s stuck to such a very strict regimen, and there’s only so many places where you can get alone time, and then you installed the morning announcements, and I don’t wake up when you wake up. And you wake up before anybody ever should wake up.”

Rare Synox and Blue bonding over being the most sleepless bitches on this ship by design lol. Listen blue I’ll believe that synox is just built different but you’re going to have a heart attack before you reach thirty pls sort this out I don’t want to see zero be a widower

- Lore note: Zero does not like Scrabble fhdskjfhas. Space Scrabble, presumably. Sprabble.

- both zero and blue noticing synox getting triggered by seeing a battle droid in the metalorn arc and stopping what they’re doing to check in with him is. Kind of sweet actually

- today I found out that the guiness world record for an ensemble of stringed instruments is 1021 people playing at the same time. so I think blue was actually being admirably restrained and everyone owes him a big apology (I jest(er) of course no one should ever apologize to blue for anything)

- B: “I think that’s something we can all agree with. Right, Aava?”

A: “Why are you looking at me?”

B: “I’m looking at you because I don’t think you support this.”

A: “Stop.”

B: [Suspicious/incredulous] “Hmm.”

A: “Look at Zero.”

B: “I’m not gonna look at Zero.”

A: “You like looking at Zero.”

B: “I do like looking at Zero. I’m gonna glance over there, but I’m coming right back.”

Z: [ :) ] “Hi.”

B: “‘Sup. [Beat] Aava, you need to answer the question.”

A: [Innocently] “What was the question?”

B: [Clearly derailed from one quick peek Zero-ward, laughing] “I’m… not really sure.”

What a GIFT, best setup of all time followed by slam dunk no notes

- “You just said we need a heads result, I give you a heads result!” Love, Blue style. He will rig a coin flip to let you kill someone you really wanted to kill

- Synox going “Zero doesn’t have any rank, it wouldn’t matter if we killed him” in the background is so underestimated both in terms of hilarity and awfulness fhsdja

- Zero’s very carefully neutral statement about Blue’s fashion sense pre-jester reveal that “You are definitely the one of us wearing the most layers” fasdkjha

- I’m going to take Zero’s after-gala ‘where are they now’ segment as definitive proof he and Blue worked it out very quickly after that night. Your honor, I summon the panini metaphor for making love (notably not having sex. Making love.) from the Dear Mynock in episode 70 as evidence for my case, and now I shall rest it safe in the knowledge that at least spiritually I am Right thank you and good night.

He made a panini. It was good :) good for him <3

- Z: “Blue and You! Write that down!” haha awww he sounds so genuinely excited! Maybe one day when their relationship could stand up to this utmost challenge they could be a musical duo (orchestral string music and edm/house would be. It would be something as a combination.)

- Dear Bluebirds outside of Evil Campaign:

Episode 60

Episode 73 (fashion one, jester supremacy. If you haven’t seen this animatic of that one before, please give yourself a treat and do so now, it’s one of my favorite things in the whole world)

Episode 79 (Phindar takeover)

Episode 83 (it’s the BDSM one fjsadkl)

- Basically I think what I’m trying to say is that the Bluebird crew are a group of very bad people whose sole saving grace and hope for salvation from themselves is that they love each other. And I wrote a lot of words about that and had a lot of feelings. Thank you to the Campaign podcast for getting me through 2023, I'm very grateful.

#campaign star wars #evil campaign #zeblue #agent zero #minister blue #aava arek #commander synox #listen. I often say I am on my bullshit but rarely have I been so completely and all on my lonesomely on my bullshit as this #meta #in the very loosest sense at least there are some actual thoughts inbetween all the key smashing and dunking on blue (affectionate)#this has been my emotional support google doc for almost a year now I'm almost sad to see it go haha #my heart is in these very silly words

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thevampirediariesuniverse-1864 · 10 months

Text

Bucky x bullied reader | warning : age gap slefharm bulling eating disorder

Your yn stark . Tony’s only daughter . You were define not a small girl . You were very tall , about 5”10 and had broad shoulders and big muscled legs . You were naturally a very intimidating person .Your waist was your only problem. You hated it . More than anything in the world you would stare at the mirror and look at yourself dog cussing every imperfection and calling your self names you wouldn’t call the devil .

When you started bullied . Every day names such as “ trans bitch “ “ man !!” “Ugly !” “Fat bitch !” ( not trying to be hurtful anyone ) it kept getting harder to deal with just constantly every day . You became depressed . And you learned to mask it , just fake it till you make it right ? But what if i don’t make it ?? U thought . You stared to push yourself to eat less and every time you would give in and eat you would end up crying for hours and feeling bad for days The bulling eventually got bad enough that you resorted to cutting yourself . . But you weren’t stupid . You really didn’t want to get caught doing this you didn’t want ANYONE to see or find out , who knows what they would do . So u cut right under your breasts . A place no one would look ever . The only way they would find out is if you showed them .

And you continued to cut . Every insult worse than the last . Chipping prices at you . It was hardest to hide around Steve . Not because he was per say smart about that kinda stuff but he went through bulling , u knew he would understand or mabey he would be scared of you because he would think your crazey . Those thoughts also began to take root . Mabey the avengers don’t like me … I am fat … and the most useless one on the team .

Soon u began to isolate yourself from the team scared that they hated you . U didn’t want to bother them . Ur dad tried so hard to talk to you but every time he got the same answers ( no dad I’m fine really I’m fine , no nothing is wrong ) but one day Steve’s friend came to join the compound . His name was Bucky . He instantly was drawn to you . Like he could sense your pain too and you know the saying misery loves company . Tony noticed you talked to Bucky , he saw you smile for the first time in months . He decided to ask Bucky if he could try and ask what’s bothering you to help you ,

And so that’s what he did . Bucky agreed to it . Soon after talking over coffee Bucky asked ( you seem sad can you talk to me ) you hugged and decided someone needed to to know . He would help you right ? ( I’ve been bullied all year for my size and I started cutting and then I started feeling like if everyone at school hated me then everyone here must too … I mean face it I’m the ugly fat tag along .. coaches kid ) Bucky eyes were watering

( can I see ?) he said as a tear fell from his cheek you said ( ok but don’t freak out and don’t ! Tell anyone , this is between u and me . Especially dad ) u lifted your shirt up only high enough to reveal your cuts . Bucky cried even more ( your just a kid !) he croaked out as u stood there stone faced . As he dragged his fingers along the fresh and old cuts littering you chest .

Bucky fell to his knees and just hugged you . He didn’t know what to do . But hug you . And you stroked his hair and he cried . ( please don’t cry , it’s ok , I’m not worth it ) Bucky snapped up , ( no ! Ur worth every single thing in this world ! Ur so kind the only one beside Steve who was truly my friend! U took care of me when I needed u . Listen to my troubles with compassion and you are truly beautiful beyond compare ! ) you just stood there . Blushing a bit .

Bucky sternly said ( I need names , doll . I’m going to fix this and we are going to get you the help you need) you quickly said ( no ! I’m not crazey ! I don’t need help ! Your going to ship me away or send me to some jerk therapist who think’s I’m broken ! And your gonna tell dad ! I should’ve known ! )

Bucky quickly said ( no no no doll ! You can tell your dad on your time , but I want you to see a therapist mabey just once a week , talk about it to someone .. I have to go to therapy ) you say ( yeah because u have trama , you have hurt and pain that no one came even imagine !) Bucky says ( yeah so do you ! Ur a teenager ! And you have to deal with that shit alone ! And you care so much for others that you hide away so they can be happy and not worry about you and isolate yourself in case ur making them sad !)

Bucky continue ( ur so strong ! And I .. I love you so much , doll I’m in love with you and I will help you even if it mean destroying taht school and every one in it !) that’s when you hear it steve comes around the corner eyes red and puffy watery ( yn , sweetie why didn’t you tell me !I would have understood! Your not a burden ! We all love you so much ! And all we want is for you to be happy , but you dad dose have to know about this ) you say ( Steve please no !he can’t know !!) he says ( I’m sorry sweetie, ) you cry out loudly ( nooo !!!! Pleeease !!! No !) you grab his arm . Trying to keep him from going to tony .

( yn , doll it for the best ) as you turn to Bucky as he engulfs you in a big bear hug . When you look up at him he’s looking down at you . When he dose it . He kisses you . His arms wrapping around you holding you close around your waist as your around his neck .for now to heck with life and it’s problems you were happy .

Till tony came into the room ( kitchen ) ( yn , baby tell me it’s not true .. my precious baby girl ) you just look away u can’t meet his eyes . You stare at the floor as tony takes you from buckys arms , Bucky want to growl and snatch you back but holds it together .

Bucky later asks you ( doll , I … I want you to be my girlfriend.. will you ? ) you shout (yess!!) as you jump into his arms , after that he’s sooo overprotective of you you are his and his alone no one will ever harm his doll

After everything you just went through tony and Steve and Bucky all decide they need to talk to the school then tony plans on suing them . But that day in class your class was watching a movie on the winter soilder and captain America . All the class said winter soilder was so cool and bad ass . All the girls said he was sooo hot . All the people who were so so so mean to you . This was your chance . Your revenge .

You said to the girls ( I know right he is hot , and he s my boyfriend) the girls said ( no he not !) ( he would never date an ugly pig ) ( yeah like Sirius he wants a hot body not a fat one ) (he is my boyfriend!) u say . ( prove it !) they say so sur in them selves ( ok )

You pull out you phone calling Bucky . ( hey Bucky I need you you to come to my school please )

Bucky says ( I’m on my way )

He comes into your class room . You see him and smile . All the girls are squealing ( hiii !!! Omg !! Ur so hot !) ( I love you !!) ( you wannna go out with me ?!) Bucky says ( no I’m here for my girl , come one doll grab your bag we’re going to go see me stark ) whispers arouse from teh class ( me stark ?) (like the tony stark ) ( why thou ?! Why her ?)

You say ( ok I can’t wait to see dad !) the whole clas screams ( DAD !!!) Bucky says ( go wait for me in the “expensive car “ , I’ll be right out) you go and do ad he says

He says to the class ( hello , I’m James Barnes , formally known as winter soilder , and that sweet girl you torment everyday is my girlfriend and tony Starla daughter , and she cares about you all so much that she refuses to give us teh names of teh people who bully her !! It makes me so mad that you can do that to a person who will always have your back no matter what you do to them !, good bye ) and he walks out

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the avengers

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year

Note

Here to leave my review on the long awaited Chapter 3 (its okay we forgive you) -

FIRST OF ALL, Ida and Saul are my spirit animals and favorite characters seriously. They so help in keeping the story light hearted and comedic even when Elvis is making me wanna slap him on behalf of Becky! It was relatable and hilarious when Saul was the last one to find out who Elvis was the men in my family are exactly the same. Ida is Captain of the Becky Butt x Elvis ship please she was all for her niece getting some under her roof, we love a supportive queen. And Elvis is a ridiculously charming man - but ridiculous nonetheless. Poor Jerry having to drive them down there, look for a nonexistent lost ring and then give up his comfort all so Elvis could get some. And Becky Butt, baby, my heart is breaking for you already because yes I want them to be happy but I can only imagine how much heartache is to come before Elvis opens his damn eyes!!! That man can be so stubborn. Also, the conversation they had, the way Elvis is always trying to deflect and distract and go on the offensive it gave me Anita phone call vibes 101 I lived for it. Elvis winning over Ruth so quickly, why am I not surprised? The man is a child himself. But with time I know he’s gonna be the best step daddy. Ruth picking up the Becky Butt moniker - LMAO. That names gonna stick and I’m 100% for it. Becky’s such a good mom, always putting her daughter first and making sure she’s comfortable/okay. She’s got a child streak in her that I think pulls Elvis in because he does as well but she has a maturity he never mastered in my opinion due to everyone in his life bending to his every whim. And can I please tell you how grateful that I am that you really lean in to the gorgeous physicality that was Big Daddy. Talking about his stomach, about his largeness, all of it, so many fics hardly allude to it meanwhile I want to suffocate underneath that man. Becky is living my dream. Thanks for updating, what a delightful read it was 💗

Dear Bri,

Thanks for taking the time to write this, it is so very reaffirming to hear what you think! Ida and Saul are so fun to write, I can hear their voices in my head, they are sort of a composite of different family members/friends i grew up with. For some reason, a lot of older women in my life, including my grandmother, were absolute sex instigators. My granny once told me, with all seriousness, that all i needed to do to solve a relationship issue with my partner at the time was just to have sex and forget about the whole fight.... hahaha. SO, yes, Becky may have gotten knocked up young, but she has never been as carefree or in tune with her sensuality as Ida, and Ida wants to really make that happen for her :) I don't know, I could just see Elvis pulling something like this with Jerry, I see it as part of his ego/inferiority duality, like he's somewhat drunk the koolaid that he's some sort of really cool rock star, but also, if he was really confident, he'd just tell people what was really going on, ughh, he was such a cute, clueless dork/ total dick in so many delectable ways, I really enjoy playing with him and writing this fic. And I love love LOVE BDE's physicality, though I will be the first to admit that @eliseinmemphis's posts about worshiping big daddy elvis were fundamental to my own burgeoning fixation with this era Elvis. I need him to crush me. I need to play with his tummy and the waddle under his jowls. Becky is all of us.... and I think her earthy, latent sensual earth mother nature finds BDE attractive and is drawn to him both as a lover, and as wounded boy she wants to nurture.... or will be moreso when/if he gets his head out of his ass and gets over himself enough.

Thanks again for taking the time to give me this feedback!!!! I know it was hard to wait for this chapter, although, in my defense, the wait between ch 1 and ch 2 was a lot longer, life is a little more settled and i think it shouldn't be more than two weeks or so until I post ch 4. I already have somewhat of an outline/set of ideas. But I hate giving a date, because I always seem to miss any deadline I set for myself, and then I publish as soon as I finish, when I really should let things sit and do a proper proofreading job. But don't be afraid to give me a nudge, I've finished chapters because someone asked for it and it motivates me.

all my love,

norAHHHH

v me seeing your message :)

#no one walks out on big daddy #elvis presley smut #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #big daddy elvis #big daddy elvis fanfiction #elvis x OC #elvis presley X OC #banditqueenasks

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pellucid-constellations · 3 years

Note

Hiiii!

I read your fic "Voicemails to an Unmanned Inbox" and I wanted to ask you if you could write an alternate ending where it doesn't end happily? Like something happens to the reader? Thank u;)💖

Voicemails to an Unmanned Inbox (alternative ending)

Summary: This is an alternate ending to this fic, beginning at the voicemails Bucky leaves the reader after a fight. This can be read on its own.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Heavy angst, death

a/n: Dang when you want angst, you want ANGST. This was painful to write, not gonna lie.

Masterlist

He gave it about 5 minutes of staring blankly at his phone before he called again. And again. And again. Each voicemail he left was more desperate than the last, fear building in his chest with each one.

“I know callin’ you again probably won’t do anything, but it's worth a shot, right? If you answer, I promise I won’t say anything. You can scream at me for however long you want and I’ll sit here and take it. Come on, sweetheart, you gonna pass up on a deal like that?”

“Just give me anything to let me know you’re safe. Send me a text? Or whatever those things are called. I know I said not to text because I don’t understand it, but I’ll take anything you’ll give me. Please, baby, you got me beggin’ over here.”

“Stevie said I should give you some space, and I’m more than willing. Just—I just need to know you’re safe. You can stay as far away from me as you want, sweetheart, but please at least call Nat. Tell her you’re okay. She hates me, so you can guarantee she won’t tell me where you are.”

“Shit, it’s raining. Call me back.”

“Is this you leaving me? Please, don’t do this. I love you. I’d do anything to take back what I said, just please don’t do this.”

Eventually, the phone stopped ringing, each call from Bucky immediately met by the answering machine. He found himself missing the shrill, monotone beeps; they meant there was a chance you would pick up.

“Did your phone just die? God, I hope not. I got Tony tryna track your phone, but no luck. You pull the tracker out or somethin’?”

“You’re tearin’ my heart out, sweetheart, I’m freaking out without you here. I know I messed up, but I need you. I need you to tell me when I’m wrong and when I’m bein’ stupid like how I was today. I need you to hold my hand and force me to take those meditation classes for my heart health or whatever you said it was for. I need—” he took a breath, tears falling down his face for the first time that night. “I need you here, loving me. Because that’s the only time I feel like Bucky. The only time I feel like me. Please, baby, let me—”

“The mailbox is full and cannot accept any messages at this time, goodbye.” The call ended abruptly. Bucky called back, one last time, but was met with the same message.

He stared down at his phone and contemplated chucking it at the wall. Was this really it? Had he screwed up so badly that you didn’t want him anymore? Or worse, were you hurt somewhere? Unable to pick up the phone because Bucky had forced you out of the safety of your bedroom.

Bucky was pulled from his thoughts by a vibration in his hands. Looking down, he almost didn’t believe his phone is ringing, somehow drawn to the conclusion that the stupid thing didn’t work at this point. But the screen clearly read some number he’s never seen before, and the vibrations were strong in his hand. Expecting the worst, he lifted it to his ear.

“Hello?” His voice was hoarse from overuse.

“Hello, is this James Barnes?”

“Who’s askin’?'' Bucky responded, already irritated that it wasn’t you on the other end of the call.

“My name is Doctor Stevenson. I’m calling from the Albany Medical Center Hospital.” It was as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room as Bucky waited for the man to continue. “I’m calling about Ms. Y/l/n?” Bucky stopped breathing.

“Is she okay?” He was frantic now, running around the room to find his shoes. He didn’t waste time putting them on, opting to carry them as he ran down the hall.

“Can you confirm that I am speaking to Mr. Barnes? This is sensitive information that I should only be sharing with an emergency contact,” the man probed.

“Yes! Yes, this is Bucky! I mean this is Mr. Barnes. My birthday is March 10th, 1917.” Bucky was getting angry; his bare feet slammed into the ground of the compound as he rushed to get to you.

“1917? Let me double check my records one more—”

“I swear to god if you don’t tell me if my girl’s okay, you’re gonna wish you never told me what hospital you’re at,” Bucky seethed. The doctor stuttered over the phone.

“I—well I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Bucky stopped then, leaving a dent in the wall by the elevator as his left arm made brutal contact, his momentum impossible to control.

“What?” He sounded destroyed.

“Do you need a moment, Mr. Barnes? It may be beneficial to sit down or—”

“Just tell me. Tell me my girl’s okay,” he begged. There was a long pause on the other end.

“I’m sorry to inform you that Ms. Y/l/n was in an accident. She was brought to our hospital, but she passed moments after arriving. I am so, terribly sorry Mr. Barnes.” The sound of Bucky’s shoes hitting the ground was lost to his ears, his heartbeat so incredibly loud in his head.

It was as if his world was tilted. As if the axis that kept him spinning in place was just shot out from under him. You were his axis, and now you were gone, leaving him to spin out relentlessly into a cruel, unkind reality.

“No,” he choked out, utter disbelief replacing any irritation at the doctor's previous hesitance. “You’re lying—youre—you’ve got the wrong girl, right? Not my y/n. She—she loves me. She chose me.”

His lips were dry and his throat hurt. He felt like he’d been screaming down a void. The pressure that had been building up in his chest the moment you left the room was mercilessly crushing him now. He reached out to pull at his shirt, desperate to relieve the ache.

“I am very sorry for your loss, Mr. Barnes. Her identity was confirmed by the police upon her admittance. Would you like to come and say goodbye? We can keep her here on the unit if you’d like? Anything to make this easier on you.” Bucky couldn’t take the remorse in the doctor’s tone.

“No. No, you’re wrong. Because if she’s gone then I can’t tell her—I have to tell her,” he slid down the broken wall, the front of his shirt ripping from how hard he was pulling at his chest. “I need to tell her I love her. I didn’t get to tell her.”

Bucky didn’t get to hear the doctor’s response, the phone slipping from his hand with a violent sob. His metal fingers left indents in the hardwood floor as he pressed against it, heavy tears streaming down his upturned face.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle this type of pain. When it was physical, Bucky could pinpoint its location like his body was a map. A broken leg was localized, manageable. But this? This pain consumed his entire being. It hurt so deep that it set into every one of his bones and pulled at his nerves. How could he do this without you? How could he live with the regret of his parting words?

He couldn’t. He absolutely couldn’t come to terms that this was his reality now. A reality without your soothing words and kind touches. Without the one person who saw him fully and still accepted who he was. Who didn’t ask him to change but instead asked him to embrace every part of him, even the small, angry parts that he hid behind masks and agreeable words.

Steve found Bucky some time later, huddled on the ground with pieces of drywall surrounding him. He was unresponsive, but Steve could gather what had happened by the look on his face. It took many long moments of coaxing before he could get his best friend standing.

Bucky wouldn’t go back to therapy, not at first. He knew they would ask about you, and he found himself reluctant to speak your name out loud. After a month of no shows, a small box from his therapist landed in front of his door, your phone inside. Bucky had assumed it was with you when you crashed, lost on the road somewhere or crushed in a ditch. He picked it up and held it to his ear, a voicemail ringing through the speakers.

“I know callin’ you again probably won’t do anything, but it's worth a shot, right?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes

1K notes · View notes

comfortbucky · 3 years

Note

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”

531 notes · View notes

allisonlol · 3 years

Note

Wah! I cant remember if I congratulated you already but congrats on 400!! <33

May I request milk tea with Chuuya? 💞

a/n: thx again ariel !! combining all my chuuya reqs here since, unsurprisingly, i got a lot

milk tea; what are their kisses like?

you’ll typically get two different main types of kisses from this boy!!

chuuya is usually aggressive in his advances

likes to catch you off guard

^will grab your wrist before quickly pulling you into him, wrapping his other arm around you, and pressing his lips to yours

turns into a makeout session every time lmao

daddy? sorry. daddy?? sorry...daddy...?

seeing your flushed face after doing this just really gets him going-

chuuya’s other way of kissing is much more...calm?

^gently raises your face to meet his before kissing you very sweetly

10/10 extremely loving & soft

also loves to kiss the back of your hand

^started off as a joke at first, but then turned into one of his official forms of showing affection after seeing how flustered it made you

and they say chivalry is dead...

green tea; how do they comfort their s/o?

well, obviously by killing whoever it was that made you upset ☺️

i’m kidding. kind of

chuuya is very sensitive & in-tune to your feelings so, the moment he sees you upset, it breaks his heart a little

you’ll never see him softer than when he’s comforting you <3

^pulls you into his lap so he can hold you and gently wipe the tears from your eyes

will listen quietly as you explain or vent about why you’re upset

stays calm on the outside while he reassures you, but on the inside he’s livid at whatever it was that made you upset

chuuya will bring you something to drink before offering if you’d want to take a bath with him to help you become more relaxed

you’d be a fool to say no-

if he has to go to work after, he’ll call you whenever he has free time to check in on how you’re feeling

even if you insist that you’re fine now, chuuya will continue to dote on you for the rest of the night

brings home your favorite snacks and some drinks to share

will tell you about the crazy events that happened to him at work in an attempt to make you smile/laugh

chuuya is a sympathetic person in general, so he’ll do anything it takes to make you feel better

definitely will look into it more on his own time later to determine if he wants to kill the person who made you upset or not tho 🤫

lemon tea; what are mornings like with them?

sleepy chuuya is literally the cutest

just a warning that you'll have to drag him out of bed every morning so he's not late for work

chuuya is NOT a morning person at all (felt)

deadass starts whining at you to turn off your phone alarm so he can immediately fall back asleep

you’re usually the one who wakes up first (which means u get to see your boyfriend’s cute sleeping face)

once you’re out of bed and dressed for work, you’re tasked with trying to convince chuuya to do the same

shaking him awake, he’ll try to shove you away before pulling his pillow over his head

“baby you’re gonna make us late for work!!” you beg before yanking the blanket off of him

this mf will go half feral to wrestle that blanket back out of your hands

it’s always a 20 minute ordeal before he’ll become conscious about what he’s doing

if you bribe him he’ll be more inclined to listen

“hey chuuya...didn’t you wanna go wine tasting after work today~?”

you know you’ve caught his attention once he peeks his eyes open to suspiciously look at you

by this point you’re cutting it real close to being late so this is only used as a last resort

chuuya will sit up with a long sigh before accepting defeat and actually getting out of bed (FINALLY)

english breakfast tea; would they want a family?

ok so we all know chuuya is really good with kids

which still surprises me

so honestly i don’t think he would mind maybe having one or two around?

it would obviously ultimately be your choice tho

however

realistically, with the professions you both have and the risks that come with it, it’s unlikely you’d actually be able to start a family

^you’d be constantly worried about the kids safety, plus with the busy schedules that you both have, you wouldn’t be able to spend much time with them to begin with

chuuya is always still open to the idea for sometime in the future, if that would ever be possible

black tea; what do they look for in a person?

definitely would be drawn towards someone who can hold themselves in a fight and take care of business on their own

^wants this so he won’t feel the need to worry about your safety so much, especially if you have the same profession that he does

leans towards more mature and calm people - this is a bit of a contrast to his own personality as you’d be better suited to handling him when he’s irritated lol

bonus points if you love to drink as much as he does too 😋

and even more bonus points if you have top tier fashion as well

i feel like chuuya honestly isn’t too picky about the kind of person he would date

either he likes them or he doesn’t 🤷🏻‍♀️

however i do think he would be more drawn to shy/laid back people

^would greatly appreciate it if you were easy to fluster so he can smooth talk you 😏

#bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x you #chuuya imagines #chuuya headcanons #chuuya fluff #chuuya hcs #chuuya x y/n #bsd chuuya

244 notes · View notes

yslkook · 3 years

Text

TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#Jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jeon jungkook x reader #Jeon jungkook smut #Jungkook x you #Jeon jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff

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angelofbloodlust · 3 years

Text

Bunny (Billy Loomis x Reader)

A/N: Long time, no see, y’all 😳 sorry for my disappearance, I’ve been going through quite a lot but I’m happy to be back! I apologize if this story isn’t the best, it’s been a long time since I’ve written something like this and I’m still trying to get back in my groove- but if this ends up being well-received I’d be happy to try writing a part 2! <3 hope u guys enjoy!!

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Your eyes scan over the backyard of the tan house sat in front of you once more, zoning in heavily on the blackened windows as your boots take hesitant steps forward towards the home of your fellow peer that you’ve been watching for weeks now. Shallow breaths escape you as your chest begins to pound, a flurry of both panicked and thrilled emotions swarming your stomach as your hand tightens on the butcher knife in your hold.

You were finally about to experience your first kill, after taking so many precautions and endless planning. You figured now would be the perfect time with the other murders that has had Woodsboro in chaos, the police department has already got themselves absorbed in solving the murders of Casey and Steve, if you manage to get through this unscathed you could easily let the other nutjob take the blame and get to work on your next plan.

But, that’s easier said than done.

You suck in a breath through your nostrils as you cautiously approach the cracked window ahead of you, the one you’ve witnessed be pushed open by the student’s mother each night before bed, just like clockwork. Though of course, you ensured that neither of her parents would be home that night, and you were glad they were dumb enough to trust their daughter enough to be able to defend herself with a psychopath on the loose.

Your teeth remain clenched as you slowly lift yourself up and climb through the window after pushing it open, being careful to not let your costume get caught and allowing your jaw to relax once you step from the marble of the countertops down to the wooden plank flooring below. Anxiousness to get upstairs and cut the girl’s head off stabs at you as your eyes find the stairs from your view out of the kitchen, though you force yourself to keep your pace as you take light steps on your path towards your goal, and feel relief at the fact none of the floorboards have creaked so far. Annoyance swiftly follows after as you notice the stairs aren’t carpeted, internally grumbling a couple curses while readying yourself to have to take your backup plan in case you accidentally make a noise and wake the girl up.

You make your way up slowly, begging in your mind for each step not to creak, and as you’ve made walked up all but 2 steps, you can’t help but feel a smug grin curl over your lips underneath your mask as you relish in the fact that everything’s gone so smoothly.

And immediately you regret that thought, once you and the short brunette standing in front of the bathroom door both freeze up in shock from the sight of the other.

“Shit, you’re not supposed to be awake!” You groan out, scowling at yourself once you process that you accidentally said that out loud.

Your body tenses as your words seem to have triggered the girl out of her state of shock, a blood-curling wail slipping from her lips at the sight of the knife in your hand before she runs to attempt scampering back into her bedroom to hide from you, sobs and screams pouring from her as you growl under your breath while bolting up the last couple steps and over the carpet towards her.

“Stop yelling!” You whine in panic from her loudness, before narrowing your eyes at your sudden idiocy with the situation. Why the fuck would she listen to you?!

A frustrated huff leaves you as she manages to slam the door on you, leaving you to violently push and slam on the now locked door while spilling out any indecent word your brain can think of in the moment. How could this have gone any worse? Your plan was all for nothing now!

Anxiety twirls in your gut as you look between the door and the stairs, having to make a quick decision as you’re sure the cops have been called by now and won’t take long to arrive. You exhale out, before making the final call to abandon the plan and speed back down the stairs, hopping over anything in your way as you head into the kitchen and back out the window.

Brief relief hits you as the soles of your shoes meet the grass again, taking a swift glance behind you while running for the patch of woods ahead of you. Your exhale out is interrupted as you suddenly collide into something, which you thought was a tree for a split second until the object ahead of you slips out a grunt once they stumble back slightly.

You look back forward in surprise, shock waving you as your vision is taken up by the same white and black mask morphed into a scream that you previously slipped on after making the discovery the other killer had worn it. A squeak leaves your lips as the man in front of you takes a rough grip on your upper arms, shifting around to face your towards the woods and push you forward as he gives a huff out.

“Go, I’m not gonna let you get us caught.” He hisses out, balling the back of your costume into his fist to ensure you keep moving as he leads you further way from the house while you struggle to wrap your head around what’s happening.

“H-How did you know I was-”

“We were in the area prepping, and we could hear that bitch’s scream from a mile away.” He huffs in response.

“Oh..” You mumble, embarrassment now filling your cheeks as he continues to guide you like you’re a disobedient child, wanting to pull from his grip but feeling unsure of how he might react. “...Did you say we?” You question suddenly as you shift your head to look back to him.

“Yes. No more questions, I think I have a right to be the one questioning you instead. Who the fuck are you?” He asks in a strict tone, and despite his mask covering his expression, you could somehow feel the rage radiating off of him at your presence.

You narrow your hidden eyes, “Why would I tell you that?? I don’t even know who you are!”

“I said no more questions.”

“I think it’s a pretty reasonable one if you’re gonna only ask questions I don’t wanna answer!”

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be then we can both remain anonymous. How about this, instead?” He hums, “Did you even kill her? I don’t see any blood on you.”

“..No.. She locked the door on me before I could grab her, I wanted to kill her in her sleep but she was awake once I got inside.” You admit in a sheepish mumble.

He scoffs, “A door stopped you?” You scowl as he chuckles in amusement at your actions. “I suppose that’s reasonable, you are pretty small. Wouldn’t expect you to be able to be able to break it down.” He teases, causing you to grumble out as you wiggle from his grip and turn to face him.

“Hey, it was my first time, and I was panicking! Take it easy on me.” You demand with a pout.

He crosses his arms as he looks down to you, “Tsk, you tried to do it all on your own? No wonder you failed.”

“I spent months planning it, I thought I would’ve done well..” Your voice cracks through your sentence, leaving you to attempt sighing away your urge to cry while you turn back to keep walking, your eyes sticking down to watch your steps while the man with you gives an exhale as he follows at your side.

“Alright, alright, I’ll quit being so harsh. But it takes someone naturally skilled to be able to do it on their own, you know? You think you have everything you need, but even the littlest thing that doesn’t go to plan can fuck it all up. Maybe for you, you just need a bit of teaching to make sure you’re ready for anything.” He shrugs.

“Are you.. offering to help me?” You question gently through the mix of shock and confusion in your chest as to why this stranger is willing to take you under his wing, tilting your head slightly up to him.

“Maybe. But you need to prove that you’re serious about this.”

You begin to question him on how you can prove it, before stopping at the beginning of your sentence once the two of you cross through the patch of woods and up to a parked car on the lone street in front of you. An unsure sensation fills your gut as he makes you stay back while he walks over to the driver’s side window, and you begin to question to yourself if this might really be a safe decision to go with the psychopaths that you were about to frame.. But at the same time, this might be your real chance to be able to finally learn the proper ways of murder.

Soon enough, he walks back over to you and gestures to your mask. “To go any further with this, I need to see your face if you’re going to see ours. It’s only fair.” He requests you in a calm tone, and you hesitate as you frown as you pick up sudden worried thoughts. What if he just wanted to be able to rat you out and let you take blame for everything?

“Hey, you know you haven’t really proved your loyalty to me, either.. What if-”

You freeze as his hand reaches up for his own mask, watching him pull it off to reveal his cold, yet neutral expression as the guy you recognize to be Billy Loomis from your school stands in front of you. Your face reddens at the sight, you know him enough about him to have a thorough crush on him, though you suppose you didn’t know him quite enough to have realized that part of the reason you had been so drawn to him was the fact you were more alike than you had known.

“I’m risking everything for this. Do you know how much this could fuck up everything with us letting you in?” He sighs, and you watch as his lips form in a displeased pout. “The last thing I want is you getting caught doing this dumb shit, and if you’re going to steal our costume you at least need to not act like a moron while you’re in it.” He huffs with narrowed eyes.

“God- fuck, whatever. If you guys end up killing me, I have nothing to lose.” You grumble as you pull off your mask, holding your own pout while he takes up a smirk while looking you over.

“Just as cute as I expected you to be, bunny.” He purrs out in a playful tone, which causes you to give him a questioning expression through your heated cheeks at the nickname.

“Bunny?”

“You’re small, cute and quick. Like a bunny.” He grins.

“I will actually deck you if you call me that again.” You hiss out while he starts to lead you towards the car.

“No, you won’t. I could tell you liked it.” He chimes in a proud tone, laughing out once you reach to smack his arm with your face on fire.

“Shut your mouth, Loomis! You’re so annoying!” You whine as your voice pitches up with your embarrassment.

“Get your ass in the car, Y/N.” He snorts out as he nudges you towards the backseat.

“..You know my name?”

“You’re in my Physics class. I recognize you.” He chuckles gently, flashing you a brief smile before slipping into the passenger’s seat.

“Oh.” You hum, feeling content as you feel joy at the fact that he recognizes you, holding your own smile as you get into the back of the car before pausing once Stu Macher shoots you a grin from the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Y/N! Billy says you wanna join us, that true?” He asks through his classic happy tone, starting up the car while you manage to get yourself to nod as you confirm to yourself that the man you had only ever expected to be the class clown to be Billy’s partner in crime, though you weren’t entirely sure why you were caught off guard with the insane amount of loyalty Stu’s always shown to Billy over the years you’ve watched them be friends.

“Yeah.. Uh, sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Didn’t think you were this kinda guy.” You snicker.

He gives an unbothered shrug, “Well, people always have their secrets, don’t they?” He chuckles, causing you to quirk an eyebrow once he flashes a grin over to Billy and laughing out once he smacks his shoulder in a manner to tell him to shut up. Stu smiles back at you again through the rear-view mirror, “It’s nice to have ya join us, though. I’m sure it’ll be real fun for the three of us.” He purrs, and you can’t help but get an unsettling feeling from the tinge of malice in his smirk, which you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be towards you.

You could only hope not.

#scream 1996 #scream #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis and stu macher #billy loomis x reader #slasher x reader #ghostface x reader #slasher x you #hopefully this ain’t too bad I wrote it all in one sitting 😭

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

Text

just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be.

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids.

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together.

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes.

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out.

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee.

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard.

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final.

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.”

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing.

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.”

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time.

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?”

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break.

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs.

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit.

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs.

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint.

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint.

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car.

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now.

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store.

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs.

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone.

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?”

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too?

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?”

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?”

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number.

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?”

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously.

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks.

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts.

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you.

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me?

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably.

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles).

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa.

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks.

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet.

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there.

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display.

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs.

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood.

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently.

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently.

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you.

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly.

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.”

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds.

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters.

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says.

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes.

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until-

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts.

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with.

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated.

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.”

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless.

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently.

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back.

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains.

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date.

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand.

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck.

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him.

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works.

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods.

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.”

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns.

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles.

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear.

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa one shot #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #ateez fluff #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa one shot

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gojology · 3 years

Text

Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

You’re beginning to hate Satoru. Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it. People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders. You don’t particularly hate him for this, though. It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone. It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back. Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it. So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month. “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room. Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones. Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?” “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.” Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?” Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-” “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work? Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is. He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?” He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-” Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.” Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?” It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults. “Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?” He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him. “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.” Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place. “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket. “Looks just like you.” he says. You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching- “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you. “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?” You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it.. “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh. “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low. “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.” “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you? “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.” His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness? “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.” “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?” Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.” “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?” Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself? “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?” “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped. By none other than his lips. They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this. You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything. ‧₊˚✩彡. “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door. Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse. “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes. “What the fuck.”

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whosjunglejim4322 · 3 years

Text

Dom!mark lee w breeding kink for @nakamotocore I am v excited this is nasty aha devil emoji, est. relationship, uhm spitting, hand/finger kink, overindulgence of the word baby, fingering, creampie, bathroom sex, fucking in front of a mirror, mark has a nasty mouth, he's a sweetie who is acc very in love w u, toothrotting fluff at the end

It really wasn't your fault. You are pro comfort above all else, in fact, it's even advised by certified healthcare professionals, to not wear underwear occasionally - who are you to risk not giving yourself the care you need and or deserve?

Sure, maybe you should've worn something a bit less conspicuous than a dress, but it's not like you aren't careful. Of course you are! Especially since you and Mark are visiting Jaehyun and Johnny at their new home payed by Jae's onlyfans money - but silly you, had still accidentally managed to expose yourself - luckily, with only your boyfriend there to see.

You'd been rummaging in J number one and two's fridge, eager to find something behind the rows of beer that stacked the shelves, organized neatly as if they'd actually taken their time on making at least twenty five cans of bud light look presentable.

Mark had followed, having promised to bring a couple of the beverages back to the living room, just as you spotted the non alcoholic juice cocktail nestled all the way in the back of the bottom row - your fingers suddenly prickling with newfound determination.

"You're really.....fuck," Mark groaned from somewhere behind you and all at once the breeze against your bare center had you shivering. You've been caught. "come here."

It was a silent, steady command that rang with regained composure and as you stood up straight, Marks hands gripped your hips with ferocity, spinning you around to face him.

If the flaring of his nostrils and the glossy, lost glare in his doe eyes were anything to go by, you'd ticked something inside of him that began raging like a bull behind his ribcage; dick swelling in his sweats at a rapid rate, while he pulled you closer to his body by the swell of your ass.

Your gasp was a puff against his cheek, pupils blown wide when you felt the warmth of his palm against your sex from behind, the prod of his middle finger. You could still hear Jaehyun and Johnny in the living room just around the corner, furthering the mixture of thrill and embarrassment.

"You did this on purpose, huh?" He growled it against your ear, the vibration trilling down your spine and flooding your pelvis with heat. Within the second you were being tugged along, out of the kitchen and through the hall that led to an intersection of doors; the one straight ahead being the bathroom, the others bedrooms.

You had to grip onto the back of his shirt to keep up with him, despite the fact that your wrist was firmly entrapped by his slim fingers. You entered the middle door and that's what led to your current situation; your ass perched on his friends' bathroom counter with your dress being hiked up around your thighs.

"M-Markie, right now? W-what if they come looking for - ohhhh, for us?" You sputter as the pad of his middle and forefinger rub your clit in circles, his bottom lip caught between his two front teeth. He chuckles darkly, in a way that makes you leak, and suddenly you're far too worked up to think straight anymore.

"Don't Markie me, you really came here in this pretty little dress," he tugs the ensemble up higher, until it's resting around your hips and your naked center is in full view. "with your pussy right underneath, completely bare."

He kisses you sloppily, as if he's as drunk on the adrenaline as you are, but with clear purpose. You grind against his fingers and then he's pulling away, grin lopsided and fever inducing, the way it always is when he's in these moods.

"That's not-" he cuts you off, slowing his circles and your clit throbs in protest.

"What? Not fair?" He scoffs, pulling you closer by the back of your knees, nestling his narrow hips in between your parted thighs while his mouth presses soft kisses to your cheek, down your jaw.

"You know what's really not fair, baby?" Your wetness is loud even as he glides his digits through the silk of your folds, using the lightest of touches to trace the ring of your slit.

"You knew I'd notice, eventually," his tongue flicks across your throat, over to your carotid artery until he's kissing the patch of skin just under your ear. "and you wanted my dick to get hard in front of my friends - fuck - wanted me to have to drag you to the bathroom and rub your little pussy just like this - you were staring at my hands all day, hmm?"

You're already trembling in his hold, and you have to fight back the near irrepressible urge to whimper when he slides those fingers into your sopping heat - your walls sucking him in greedily, contracting around the digits.

"Fuuuck baby, so fucking wet." he groans, curling his fingers when he feels you squeezing around them. You blame it on him- it's hard not to notice the bulge that has formed underneath his shorts, and your neediness grows with each sound that passes his pretty lips.

Of course, this is Mark, though. He feeds off of the fact that you're so fucked out so fast, knows that you'll act completely innocent until he fucks the truth about your mischievous plans out of you - even so, you whine just a bit too loudly when your hole feels sudden emptiness.

"Please, Mark," you're begging already, pouting until he brings the soaked digits to your mouth. Without missing a beat you're parting your lips and suckling your juices off of him, his dick twitching the minute he feels the slick of your tongue.

"Is that what you're gonna call me, while you're trying to get your way?" He cups your cheek, pulling his spit soaked fingers from your mouth before wiping them on the inside of your thigh.

"No, no sir I'm sorry," he smiles proudly, cock leaking and desire saturating his senses as you stare up at him through the thick of your lashes, clinging onto the front of his shirt in an effort to pull him closer than what he already is.

This proves to showcase your real desperation and then he's kissing you again, roughly at first but then he's rhythmic while he takes his time suckling your bottom lip, then your top, and alternating between the two.

You're so distracted by the feel of his tongue against the roof of your mouth, that you don't even realize he's shoved his shorts down, until the bulbous tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit.

"Fuck me, please Mar-sir? Want you s-so bad." You mewl, gasping when you're suddenly pulled off of the counter by your waist, turned around and met with your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror. You bend yourself over with no hesitation, eyes drawn forward and belly tightening with arousal from the sight before you; from the way Mark's entire expression has darkened, gaze low and focused on the glistening between your legs.

"Yeah? Wanna be fucked full of my cum, hmm baby?" He's fucked out, hazy from the ache in the pit of his belly, in his chest. He's gripping the thick shaft of his length, rubbing the plum hued head up an down your slit as if it's his tongue lapping at your pussy instead.

"Mm, yes, yes please stuff me full, sir."

You push back against him and he chuckles at the way you're trembling, though he honestly doesn't think he can last much longer to tease you about it, balls tightening with the urge to release. Plus, how could he say no to you?

It always takes him by surprise, every single time he pushes himself into you. It's a further reminder that you're his, made for him in every way and it makes his desire even headier.

He bottoms out and you're gripping onto the edge of the sink for dear life, eyes holding themselves open just so you can watch Marks soft features contort into that of someone else completely. His dark eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, petal lips parted.

He drags his length out of you and you're the only thing he sees as he thrusts himself back into the warmth of your sex, his hands snug around your hips as a form of leverage for the pace he sets; hard and precise.

Johnny and Jaehyun are long but forgotten now, in fact when you're with Mark, it seems as though everything else disappears completely. That's not an understatement, especially not when he's able to fuck you like this, pretty groans leaving his throat, his manhood buried deep inside of you.

You're a whimpering mess and he doesn't have the heart to tell you to quiet down, you're too beautiful like this and you're - "So fuckin' wet for me baby, shit."

You're completely coating his cock in your milky essence, it's smearing the front of his thighs and dripping down his balls. You feel the warmth of mouth against the side of your cheek and realize he's lent over, arms wrapped fiercely around your middle as he rolls his agile hips into you from behind.

"M-Maaark, mmmph." You feel so full, too full and you're not sure what to do with yourself - bouncing back on his length, the back of your thighs meeting the front of his.

"You like being fucked like this baby?" He uses one arm to reach down in between your thighs where the two of you are connected, rubbing circles over your bud as he did earlier. "You want me to have you leaking between your legs with my cum?"

He's filthy, and each word that is spoken through a growl has your belly filling with an unbearable pressure, body lurching with each sharp, sloppy thrust of his hips.

"Y-Yes Markie, make a mess o-oohhhh, out of me."

You've forgotten about the formalities but he's okay with it, in fact the nickname sounds so pretty coming from you, that it makes the drive to fill you with his seed that much more powerful.

"Gonna - fuck, gonna put a baby in you, mmm," he curls his hips and hits a spot inside of you that has your body involuntarily jerking, legs wobbly. "gonna make sure everyone knows who got you all big and swollen."

Even the thought has you barely holding it together, his possessiveness stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you that seem to be building by the second. He stands uo to his full stature and returns to his previous position in an effort to hold you up, sensing that his mouth has you worked up beyond belief.

"You like that baby? Can feel you squeezing around me."

It's sadistic, really. Your eyes aren't even all the way open, the balloon of pressure in your belly swelling and swelling, spreading licks of fire through your nerve endings, causing you to drip onto the bathroom floor with each drag of his cock from your heat.

"Ple-ease don't s-stop, oh fuck, Mark please." You're not making any sense but he understands perfectly, as he always has and always will. Hes not fairing much better, if he's honest, and so he's truly grateful that you're so close to falling apart as he knows he won't be long either.

"Awe, look at you," his voice isn't steady but it's still strong, teasing in its lilt. "you're gonna cum all over my dick aren't you? That's what you wanted all along, couldn't even wait."

You mewl as a reply and he twitches, the end dangerously close with each stroke. He's never felt someone so soft, so warm and wet for him and only him and now you're panting his name, over and iver again as if it's the only word you've ever known.

"Markmarkmark, oh fuck, I'm c-cumming."

A hand clamps over your mouth while you drown in the liquid heat that pulsates through you in rigorous, violent waves; tears brimming in your eyes and knees practically giving out.

Mark manages to keep you steady, to fuck you through your orgasm while your muffled cries seep into his skin like they're made of medicine; and in reality it's probably only seconds after, with you throbbing around his cock, that he feels his orgasm rip through him as viciously as yours rips through you.

You know the signs enough by now to sense it in his body, and despite the fact that you're still loopy, you manage to pull your eyes open just enough to watch him lose it - his body bowing and chest pressing against your front as he pumps himself into you with sloppy thrusts.

His bottom lip almost bleeds with how hard his teeth dig into it, tremors wracking through him while the warmth of his cum fills you from the inside out, and it has an aftershock of orgasmic pleasure moving through the marrow of your bones.

It's not even a moment later when you feel the softness of his kisses against any expanse of skin he can reach, soft smooch sounds accompanied by the flurry of gentle pecks. You feel like you're floating, despite still not being able to move properly.

"My baby, my darling," he sings against your skin and you giggle at the giddiness that radiates from the doe eyed boy, your Mark. He pulls himself out of you and you try not to whine, but ultimately fail, too used to the feeling of him inside of you. "don't pout, gotta clean you up."

Your eyes are closed and the sound of running water pulls you from your momentary reverie, even more so as you feel the warmth of a cloth against your sensitive center; a flush of heat leaving you dangling in the realization of what you two have just done in Johnny and Jaehyun's bathroom.

"Oh fuck." You attempt to bury your face in your arms but Mark stops you, chuckling as if he hasn't got a care in the world while he adjusts your dress to drape over your hips again, pulling you into his chest.

"Shh, it's okay it's okay. We made the place more...more homey - you know?" He teases with a warm chuckle that threatens to tear any worries from your mind, and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, smiling.

"I swear to fuck if they used even one of my brand new wash cloths I'm never inviting them over again." Jaehyun seethes.

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