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rayslittlekitten · 9 months

Text

Can I?

A/N: Okay y'all. It's here, it's done. Y'all voted on this a while back and it was a bit challenging as I made the mistake of starting to write it with Will in mind so I had to make adjustments, but I think I figured it out. Thank you so so much to @musings-of-a-rose for taking a look at this for me. You are a doll!

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6,033

Pairing: Benny Miller x BFF! F! Reader

Plot: A night of unexpected events occur when you and your best friend innocently test out sex toys you had drunkenly purchased for shits and giggles.

WARNINGS: This is the first fic I am NOT including warning tags because I don't want to spoil anything. There's nothing typically potentially triggering like dark stuff (i.e. CNC) but still I wanted to keep it a mystery going in. SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Your friends were supposed to watch the fight with you tonight but they had bailed with some excuse or two except for your best friend. You thought that his brother would at least still be joining as they usually do everything together - like you wouldn’t be surprised if you found out they hold each other’s dicks while the other pisses - but it’s just going to be you and him tonight. Instead of going to the bar like originally planned, you both decided to pick up a case of beer and hang out at your place. It’s cheaper and less crowded.

There’s a rap at your apartment door and you go to open it. As expected, it's your best friend with the supply.

“Hey, Benny! Just in time!”

"Hey, you got a package," Benny says as he hands you the beer. He bends down to pick up the small brown box off the floor by your door. "What did you order?"

"I have no idea what that is," you reply as you make your way over to the kitchen to stick it in the fridge. "I don't remember ordering anything. Where does it say it's from?"

"The return address just says Warehouse, in Ohio," he replies, inspecting the non-descript package and following you further into your apartment after shutting the door behind him.

He hands you the cardboard box before taking his jacket off and making himself at home. You rip open the package and after seeing the contents, you laugh out loud.

"What's so funny?" he asks, walking closer to you.

"This was a drunk purchase. I totally forgot about these!" You reach in to pull out the items and show him your new purchases.

"What are those?" He looks perplexed.

“This one is a vibrator I keep seeing on Instagram, but it's supposed to be like, amazing," you answer.

"How the hell are you supposed to use that?" He takes one of the packages from you and inspects it, looking at the pictures on the box.

"Well, one way you can use it is you insert this side into your pussy and this part is supposed to sit on your clit," you point and explain to him. "It also comes with a detached remote so someone else can control it.

"I don't know if that's a terrible time or a great time."

"The vibration is supposed to be very powerful but quiet," you add. "Supposed to be discreet. They try to sell it by showing women supposedly wearing it in public under their clothes without anyone apparently knowing and their partner has control of it and she's like losing her shit."

"I'm curious now."

"For science!" You declare as you snatch the package from him. You start opening it up and pull the contents out. "Shit, it needs AAA batteries. TV remote!"

You head to the living room and he follows you. You take the batteries out of your TV remote and shove them into the new toy. After turning it on, it buzzes lightly in your hand, moving subtly.

"Let's see how crazy it can get." You start playing with the buttons until it goes up to the highest setting and Ben's eyes get wide as saucers watching it flop around in your palm, practically jumping out of your hand.

"Jesus Christ!" Benny hops back.

"Yeah, now imagine that between your legs."

"I'm not sure I want to. Looks like it would scramble all the sperm inside my balls. Besides, I don't think it was made for my body parts," he points out.

"You just don’t have an imagination," you jab. "Hmm, should we test drive it?" you suggest as you shut it off.

“What do you mean?" he asks curiously.

"See if the hype is real," you answer. "Especially that other one." You point to the other toy that's still in its package.

"That one's supposed to feel like your clit is actually getting sucked on."

"I didn't even know such toys exist," he confesses.

"There are soooo many sex toys out there, you don't even know. Why don't you go get us some cold ones while I figure these out?" you suggest.

"You really wanna do this?” He checks again.

"Yeah, why not? It's not like we have anything else better to do except watch two grown men beat each other up," you state. “Come on, this isn’t any different than the time we accidentally found Will’s porn stash and you got a boner.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t jerk off.”

“You totally did. Not in front of me, but you were not discreet when you snuck off to the bathroom with one of his magazines to ‘take a shit’,” you look at him knowingly.

“Okay, fine,” he shrugs and adjusts his forward-facing cap. “You have a point.” He heads back into the kitchen to grab some beer.

When he comes back with two opened bottles in hand, he finds you reading the manual and reviewing the other toy.

"So how exactly are we testing these?" he asks, settling down next to you on the couch and taking a gulp of his beer.

"Well, I'm not gonna stick it down my pants if that's what you're thinking. Would that be too weird?” You scrunch your nose while looking over at your best friend who looks just as clueless.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. It ain't going down my pants. No amount of alcohol is gonna get that to happen."

"Okay, I didn't think this through. I mean, I guess we can just test it on our arms or something," you shrug cluelessly, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind and then going back to the manual.

"How would that work?" Benny asks as he takes the remote sitting next to him, inspecting it.

As you begin to answer, he starts randomly pressing buttons and you shriek, jumping in your seat. Benny also jumps back, spilling some of his beer as he reacts to your sudden outburst.

"What the hell?!" He looks over to you.

You instantly reach for the vibrator that happened to be sitting between your legs, snug against the front of your pants and toss it at him. Benny tries to dodge it like it's a dead cockroach, but it lands on his lap and he immediately launches himself off the couch. The vibrator continues to bounce around the cushion of the couch until Benny finally shuts it off.

"What the hell was that, man?" Benny looks over at you.

"It was between my legs when you turned it on, you ass!"

“Well, what the hell was it doing there? You said you weren't gonna test it that way."

"I wasn't! It just happened to be there while I was reading on how to operate the other one. Why'd you turn it on?" You shoot back.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing!" He shouts. "This shit is like rocket science! How do you women even use these things?"

"Men use them too," you correct him.

“Well, clearly I never have," he admits and returns to his seat, flicking the vibrator towards you to make room for himself.

"You're such a prude. It's not like I was wearing it," you say, grabbing it away from him.

"I'm not a prude! You freaked out so I freaked out." He takes another gulp of his beer.

"Whatever," you mumble, still feeling a bit flustered and embarrassed by what had happened. You turn your attention back to the other toy.

"Wait, you've never used any sex toys before?" you shift your attention back to him.

"Nope," he shakes his head.

"Not even with a partner?" You raise a brow.

"Well, one time this girl wanted to make things interesting and suggested a dildo, but it wasn't for her," he starts. "She wanted to stick that up my ass and I was not about that. Especially not after what I had for lunch that day."

"Aww, no peggy for Benny?" you exaggerate a pout.

"Hey, you should think twice about who you're poking fun of.” He shows you the remote in his hand and turns it back on, spooking you when the vibrator goes off between you and Benny.

"Okay, you're having too much fun with that." You reach over to grab the remote from him but he moves it away from your reach.

You lean in further, but his long arm prevents you from getting access to it. At this point, you’re practically climbing on top of him.

“You’re right. This is fun,” he laughs.

When you get close, he transfers the remote to his other hand so you shift yourself but lose your balance, landing back on the still-on vibrator. You shriek and Benny laughs at you. He turns the setting to the highest as you try to get away from it in your awkward position.

"Benny! You can't just go from 1 to 100 instant—" You finally roll off of it and give yourself a moment. With your eyes closed and teeth digging hard into your lower plump lip, you try to get yourself together.

“Are- are you okay?” Benny asks as his laugh dwindles. “Did you have an orgasm or something?” he jokes.

“No…” you start. “But maybe I almost did - maybe!”

His laugh finally dies, but a smirk remains on his face.

“Seriously?!” His eyes grow wide, turning his body towards you.

“That toy is no joke,” you point to it still wriggling on the couch. “And now I really wanna know what it can do.”

Benny shuts it off and his eyes shuttle between the toy and you.

“Uh… like, now?” He questions.

You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating.

“That would be weird, right?” You ask with a squinted eye. “Never mind, forget it—”

“Have at it,” Benny interrupts. “Now I wanna see what this thing can do, too.”

“Really?” You ask with a raised brow, surprised.

“Yeah, like you said, what else is there to do? For science!” He brings up his beer bottle to celebrate it.

“Dork,” you chuckle, snatching the toy.

“Also, maybe I can learn a thing or two from it,” he replies. “Not that I need any help in that department, but I’m always open to learning new things,” he adds.

You roll your eyes.

“Hey, I’m a fighter and a lover. And I’m great at both,” he winks.

“Are you done stroking your own ego?” You look at him, unimpressed.

“I’m sorry. Yes, you can go on to stroke yourself,” he answers, trying to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smirk.

“You’re so dumb,” you roll your eyes again and try not to crack your own.

“But I gotta be the one in control.” He holds up the remote in his hand.

“Benny-“

“I may never have the opportunity to ever do this again,” he says. “Besides, isn’t it what makes this fun? Someone else controlling it?”

You stare back at him and think about it.

“Okay, fine, but-“ you point a finger at him.

“I promise I won’t go from zero to 100, okay? Scout’s honor.” Benny brings his three middle fingers up.

“You weren’t a boy scout,” you point out.

“Fuck you. I was one for like a month,” he corrects you. “So are we doing this or what?”

“Turn around,” you tell him.

“What? I can’t watch?”

“Not watch me put this on. Turn around,” you repeat.

He rolls his eyes and turns his whole body around so the back of his head is facing you. You keep an eye on him as you wrangle your jeans and slip the toy inside you until it fits snug. Benny takes a sip of his beer as he waits patiently. He hears you fumbling around and finally you tell him he can turn back around.

He turns to face you and he looks confused.

“What?” You ask him.

“You have it on? Under your jeans?”

“Yes. I wasn’t gonna let it all hang out willy-nilly,” you tell him. “If you don’t believe me, turn it—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Benny flips the switch and you seize up. He can’t hear it, but your reaction confirms you have it in. He watches you as you stay still and quiet for a few moments.

“Can I up the speed?” He asks.

“Is this the lowest setting?” You calmly shoot back.

“Uh, yeah I think so.” He looks down at the remote to see if there’s any indication.

“Okay, go up one notch. One!” You glare at him.

“Okay, here we go.” He turns it up and you twitch.

You start shifting around in your seat until you feel the vibrator is in optimal position.

“How many speeds does this thing have again?” You ask out loud, reaching for the instruction manual and scanning it. “TEN?”

“Well, here’s number three,” Benny says as he ups the speed.

“Ben— ohhhhh…” Your scolding got cut short when the vibrator starts to really hit the right spots.

The tip of the dildo part tickles your g-spot as the outer part flickers over your clit. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip, trying to concentrate and keep your composure.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you mumble.

“Uh… how are you doing?” He asks, not sure what else to do.

“I’m… “ you freeze up for a quick second and then relax, letting out a heavy breath. “Jeeeesus,” you hiss.

Benny remains quiet as he watches you slightly gyrate against the couch. You close your legs together and cross your knees, trying to recalibrate yourself for the ideal position. He notices your breathing has gotten heavier.

“Higher?” He asks quietly, afraid to interrupt your flow.

“I’m already slipping all around,” you answer without opening your eyes, almost forgetting you aren’t alone.

“That’s not a no…” he points out.

Your teeth digs even deeper into your lower lip as you contemplate whether you want to chase your impending orgasm or not. You hate that at the current setting, it’s only enough to edge you and need a bit more to get you over the top.

“Okay,” you finally say. “Do it.”

Benny takes it to number four and you yelp instantly.

"Oh my god," you start giggling. "This is fucking crazy!"

Your thighs tightly clamp together and your back arches off the couch. You throw your head back as your jaw drops open, letting out a silent scream. Your hips rock against the vibrator, trying to get to the finish line.

"I'm not gonna lie. This is getting me hard."

You open your eyes and glance over at him to see him palming the front of his jeans and rubbing himself through the denim as he watches you trying not to lose your shit.

“How close are you?" he asks.

You feel your face get really warm all of a sudden. His baby blues pierce your eyes and you're suddenly feeling more vulnerable than you already are, like you just got caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but at the same time, it’s kinda hot seeing Benny turned on watching you to the point where he’s quasi-touching himself. Noticing your state of shock, he amps up the vibration and you let out an uncontrolled moan.

"Oh, fuck!“

Your hips buck off the couch as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. You continue to moan as you ride the wave and try to catch the next one, grinding down on the couch. You don’t even care how silly you might look to Ben right now. All your focus is what’s going on between your legs. Suddenly the vibrator gets stronger again.

“Ben, stop! It’s too much!” You shriek.

You’re relieved when the torture stops, but it also feels odd as you feel the residual buzzing between your legs.

“So… how was it?” Benny breaks the silence. “Was it all your hopes and dreams?”

You take a moment to yourself to process the experience before answering.

“This shit is… I don’t think I ever want to experience the highest setting on this thing,” you tell him. “This thing is like a torture device. It feels like I pissed myself.”

You turn to look at him as you catch your breath and you’re reminded that Benny’s having his own fun with this, bringing you back down to earth. He scoots a bit closer to you with his hand still over his crotch. This new tension is clearly mutually felt as you both stare at each other, waiting for the other person to say or do something first. Your eyes ping pong between his face and his crotch, which he is still lazily rubbing.

“So uh… what now?” Benny asks, licking his lips. “Round two?” he brings up the remote still in his hand.

“N-no! No, no! Don’t you dare-“ you reach for the remote again, but he pulls it back behind him.

You chase after it, lunging towards him and end up getting right in his face.

“Benny!” You try again, but pause when you catch him staring at you, his face no more than a few inches away from yours.

It may be the post-orgasm bliss or the awkward position you both found yourselves in, but you’ve never noticed how easy on the eyes your best friend is. He swallows hard as his eyes scan your face.

“Can… can I kiss you?" he asks suddenly, leaning in and nudging your nose with his, testing the boundaries.

You lick your dry lips and swallow as you glance down at his mouth, seeing it slowly closing the distance. He ghosts his lips over yours, stopping short of actually putting it on yours, waiting for your permission. You answer his question by closing the gap, slotting your mouth over his.

He kisses back, gently at first, matching your energy. When you slip your tongue into his mouth, he cups your face and returns the gesture. You’re both now devouring each other as he turns his body towards you to get into a more comfortable position, adjusting himself to accommodate the bulge in his jeans.

You both continue to make out with more urgency. Benny’s hands start cautiously exploring your body, placing a hand on your waist at first. It wanders down to your hip and he gives it a squeeze. Your own hands start roaming Benny’s body, touching his hard chest first. His warmth is welcoming, making you twist your body and lean into him. Feeling bold, Benny’s hand wanders to your thigh, his fingers brushing the inside, but far from your wet patch.

“Can I touch you down there?” He mumbles between kisses while moving his mouth to the side of your face and down your neck.

“Wha-“ You let out a loud sigh when you feel his soft wet tongue on the side of your neck, shivering when he grazes a sensitive spot.

“Can I touch you down there?” Ben repeats, pulling back, his lust-filled eyes looking down into yours.

His fingers barely scrapes your inner thigh, but you feel the jolt of his touch travel up to where the vibrator is still sitting.

“Please?” He squeaks out as his fingers travel up higher and his breathing gets heavier, matching yours.

Even though the vibrator isn’t on, it still brushes against your clit every time you shift and it’s only making you want Benny more, to help you get some relief. Even though you’ve already cum, you are hornier than ever right now.

You simply nod before capturing his mouth again. You moan into his mouth when you feel his hand cupping you, rubbing small slow circles with his fingers. Your hips twitch when he drags his middle finger up and down the thick seam of your pants that’s pressing directly down the center of the outer part of the vibrator which is sitting directly on your clit. He’s barely putting any pressure, but you’re hypersensitive right now and it feels like torture.

Now impatient, you start undoing your pants, trying to quickly get them off. You break the kiss to take a few seconds to focus on ridding your jeans. Benny watches you as he palms himself again, touching himself like he did with you. When you finally get your jeans off, tossing it over the couch, you reach into your underwear to remove the bane of your current existence - the vibrator. Without much effort, the vibrator basically falls out of you. It is drenched in your arousal, a thin sticky string still connects you to it.

It made an audible noise when it slipped out of you, as did Benny. Before you can discard the very used toy, Benny’s hand is back on you, his fingertips teasing the band of your underwear. He keeps dipping further and discovers how slick you really are.

"Jeeeeesus Christ, you weren't kidding. That shit got you so fucking wet," he comments while teasing your opening, slowly dipping his fingertip in, putting light pressure against it but it took no effort to penetrate you.

An audible squelch can be heard when he enters a second finger. You moan, feeling his thick fingers filling you and stroking you inside. He’s definitely reaching places the vibrator couldn’t. He hums watching your face distort when he pushes in further.

Your hand grips his strong forearm, feeling his veins raised and his muscles flexing underneath your palms as he pumps his long fingers in and out of you. The tip of his tongue darts out and licks the corner by his upper lip as he starts curling his fingers up, reaching for that soft spongy spot at the roof of your vagina. Your legs open up wider for him as his fingertips rub your g-spot over and over again. Your senses are heightened watching him watching you with darkened eyes. His thumb starts rubbing your clit as he massages your g-spot and it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to peak. You rock your hips against his fingers as your muscles continually clench and release over his fingers.

"Holy sh-shit," you tremble, feeling the aftershocks.

He pulls his fingers out, dragging them over your clit along the way, making your body twitch at the sensitivity.

“I think I made you cum faster than that toy did,” he jokes.

You crack a half smile but you don’t have the brain power to conjure up a verbal response. After a shared moment, he leans in to give you a quick peck on your lips. As he gets up off the couch, Benny takes his cap off to adjust the position of it, switching it backwards before settling between your legs.

The front of your thin cotton panties are completely drenched through. He can see your outline as the damp fabric clings to your puffy lips.

“Can I taste you?”

His puppy eyes peek up from between your legs. Your brain is mush so you simply nod.

He bunches the top of your underwear in his hand and yanks it up, causing it to brush across your clit. Your hips twitch and as he continues to rub the fabric over you, seeing your reaction to it and drawing out the tease. You moan and gyrate your hips when he puts his mouth between your legs over your underwear. He laps up your juices, licking and sucking as he continues to tug at your panties taut against your dripping cunt, putting pressure on your sensitive nub.

"Ben…" you pant as you push his cap off and run your fingers through his messy dirty blonde hair.

His scruff brushes the insides of your thigh as he continues to eat you out. You gasp when you feel the tip of his tongue breaching your opening, forcing your underwear aside and exposing your core. He puts more pressure with his tongue, slipping in deeper inside you and tasting you. Your hips start rocking against his face, but his tongue can only go so far. He shifts his attention to the swollen bud a little higher, scrunching your panties aside. He circles your clit with the tip before pressing the flat of his tongue and then his mouth over it, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks hard. Your thighs clamp around his head and his eyes focus on your face as his tongue continues to play your clit like a fiddle. He grips your hips and holds you down.

“F-fuck…” your breathing becomes irregular as your orgasm builds.

With his mouth still attached to you, he slips his finger inside you to try to find that spot again. You thrust against his face when you feel your third release breaching. Benny intensifies his sucking and fingering, feeling you clench around him. You cry out when the dam breaks and you convulse around him. He doesn’t stop until you still. As you’re coming down from your high, body slouched from being spent, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean.

“So you wanna try that other toy now to see how it compares to the real thing?” He asks as he stands up and wipes his mouth.

He was right about him not needing any help in the bedroom department. You can barely form words right now. Never in a million years would you think your best friend can eat pussy like an expert. Taking from his brother who he regularly competes with, he always strives to be the best in everything he does, but this is on a whole different level. And now he wants to use another toy on you? You don’t think anything can top what he just did to you.

"W-what?" you ask cluelessly, still recovering the most mind blowing oral sex you have ever received.

Your eyes follow him as he reaches for the suction toy to show you. He tries to figure out how to turn it on as he kneels down, returning between your legs.

"You gotta help me out here--"

He's suddenly interrupted when you grab his face and smash your lips against his, tasting yourself. He abandons the toy somewhere and moves up to the couch next to you. You reposition yourself to straddle his lap as you continue to make out. As your hands wander down to the buttons of his jeans, he grabs your ass, squeezing them in his large hands.

When you successfully get his jeans undone, he lifts his hips and helps you pull down his bottoms until he springs free. You look down and reach for his thick cock, warm and soft to the touch. You jerk him as he’s already hard as a rock. Your thumb brushes the underside of his head.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

Now it’s your turn to torture him. You slide off his lap and on to the floor, kneeling between his knees. Once in a comfortable position, you grab his length, licking a trail from the base to the tip, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When you get to the top, you wrap your lips around him, wetting the head a bit before inching down to taste the rest of him. Your tongue swirls around his smooth and salty skin, lubricating him as you bob up and down.

“Shhhhit…” He throws his head back against the couch.

Feeling frisky, you try to deep throat him and he grasps within arms reach whatever he can as he groans. He looks over when a hand grabs something unfamiliar to him. It’s the vibrator and an idea comes to his mind.

“Wait,” he reluctantly stops you.

You pause and see him holding up the vibrator.

“Put this on while you suck me. I think it’ll be fun.”

You look at the vibrator for a moment and then back at him.

“I promise I won’t put it so high,” he reassures you.

“Fine,” you agree and you take it from him and slip it inside you, orienting it the right way. “You try anything and I’ll bite your dick off,” you warn, drawing a small chuckle out of Ben.

You get back into the position you were in before and put your mouth back on him. As you go back to sucking him, you yelp when Benny turns the vibrator on at a low speed. The noise you made sent a delightful vibration down his cock, making it twitch. He turns it up a notch and your hips move against the vibrator. You start moving up and down on him a little faster, stroking the base where your mouth can’t reach. You deepthroat him again until you gag, but you keep on going, sending your spit dripping down his cock and lubing him up.

“You look so fucking hot,” Benny pants.

His breathing is getting more labored. His hips jerk up and he places a hand on the back of your head. He’s not putting any pressure, but he fists your hair. He doesn’t pull on it, just moves with you as you fuck him with your mouth. You start quickening your pace feeling the vibrator getting stronger, trying to match it. Feeling the beginning of an orgasm forming, you rock your hips and suck him harder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you.

Not changing your rhythm, you watch him come undone as he pops in your mouth. He thrust into your face as his moans echo in the small space and grasps the remote in his hand, accidentally jumping it up another level, but it’s what you needed to push you over the edge. You grind against the toy as you moan with him still deep inside your mouth. He spills out of the corner of your mouth as his hips slow down.

When he stills, you suck him clean and swallow the load that remained in your mouth. You reach down to pull the vibrator off and toss it onto his lap. Benny jumps in his seat and shuts it off. You wipe the corner of your mouth and chin with the back of your hand as you get up off your knees. He looks back at you with tired eyes as he tries to catch his breath, cock twitching. You squeal when he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his lap, careful with his half hard cock. You straddle his lap and he kisses you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth, tasting a bit of himself. The two of you lazily make out for a bit until Benny pulls back. You lick your lips and smile, looking down at him.

“We should start making this a regular thing, ya know. The toy testing,” Benny suggests, breaking the awkward silence and lightening the mood.

“Well, I do have a dildo I haven’t tried yet,” you half-joke.

He looks back at you with narrow eyes.

“You’re not putting that in my ass,” he states.

“Not what I was thinking,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to be double penetrated,” you explain.

Benny stares at you with a blank expression, but you see his semi twitch in your peripheral.

“Gi-give me maybe fifteen minutes—“ he finally says, pointing to his softening cock.

“Whoa! Hold it there, cowboy,” you stop him. “Why don’t we just think on that? Besides, I don’t have any condoms or lube for that to happen.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” he shrugs. “I-I had a good time, if that’s what you were wonder—“

You silence him with a tender kiss before grabbing the vibrator to remove the batteries and toss them at him.

“I’m gonna clean up. Why don’t you put the fight on? I think It’s starting soon,” you tell him as you dismount him and grab your jeans off the floor while Benny pulls his bottoms back up.

“Look what the guys missed out on. Coulda had an orgy,” you joke.

“If everyone showed up, we’d be at a bar,” he points out, then swishes some beer inside his mouth.

“Fair. Okay, a Miller sandwich then,” you switch it up.

Benny chokes on his beer.

“Kidding!” You chuckle awkwardly. “Kinda. Sorry, you probably don’t wanna think about you and your brother fucking the same person at the same time,” you snort before finally heading to the bathroom.

When you get back, you find Benny putting his phone away and relaxing on the couch like he was before any of the sexy stuff had happened, with the TV on. The awkwardness returns. He hands you your beer as you sit down next to him, settling in. You both quietly watch the fight as it starts, but you steal glances at each other every now and then. At one point, you do a double take.

“Dude, are you smelling your fingers?” You look at him incredulously.

“What? I washed them, but I can still smell you.”

You grimace at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. You smell good,” he shrugs. “It’s actually getting me hard again.”

You watch him adjust himself. The both of you stare each other down, trying to read each other until a knock on your door breaks the trance.

“Who the hell is that?” You ask, but Benny shrugs.

You get up to open the door and find the other Miller brother on the other side.

“Hey, sorry I’m late! I had trouble finding parking. Did the fight start already?”

You look back at him confused.

“Uh… are you gonna let me in?” Will asks. “I brought goodies.” He shows the case of beer and grocery store bag in his hand with a party sized bag of chips peeking out.

“Sorry, I just thought you weren’t coming,” you tell him while letting him in.

“I texted Benny telling him plans changed last minute. Did he not get it?”

“Uh, I-I don’t know. He didn’t tell me anything.” You lead him into the living room where Benny almost looks surprised.

“Did you not tell her I’m coming?” Will asks his brother.

“Oh, sorry, forgot. I was uh, a little preoccupied,” he apologizes.

Will looks at both you and Benny suspiciously.

“It smells… interesting in here,” he comments, his eyebrows furrow with curiosity.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry Will. Let me take that from you.” You quickly change the subject, taking the bag and beer out of his hands.

“Wait-” Will starts.

“Get comfy. I’ll bring you back a cold beer,” you tell him before whisking away.

You stick the beer in the fridge and when you remove the party sized tortillas to pour some into a bowl, you notice some unexpected items in the bag. You take them out for a closer inspection and your eyes widen at the bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Maybe he bought these before his initial plans got changed.

You shrug, throw them back into the bag and return to the living room with a bowl of chips, cold beer and the grocery bag of personal items. When you walk into the living room, the brothers turn their attention to you, eyeing you like they’re expecting something other than the beer and chips. You look back at them suspiciously as they’re both very laxed and spread out on the couch on each end, leaving a space for you in between. As you walk over and settle in next to them, their gaze follows you.

“Here Will, I think these are yours,” you hand him a beer and his bag of items.

He takes them from you as he smirks.

“Thanks. So,” Will turns his body towards you. “Benny tells me you’re curious about some DP action.”

You almost drop the bowl of chips in your hands. Will is usually very reserved and diplomatic so you’re a bit shocked at how straight forward he is right now. You glare at your best friend who shrugs helplessly.

“I had to tell him what he missed out on.”

You glower your eyes at Benny, but then put two and two together, your focus now bouncing between the two brothers and realize that no one is probably going to watch this fight tonight.

#benny miller #triple frontier #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x female reader #benny miller x f! reader #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier fanfiction #bff to lovers

355 notes · View notes

cupidjyu · 8 months

Text

be unprofessional

hyunjae x reader (request for the anon who wanted jealous!hyunjae thank uuu💕)

genre: jealousy, office au, president of company hyunjae, secretary reader, do u see what im trying to get at rn, bff kevin, an intern who gives me the ick, kissing, cuddling, secret? romance, flirt turned shy hyunjae, reader is the flirty one tbh notes: i fell asleep in the middle of writing this blame my period word count: 2.6k

“Y/n! Hey.” Kevin poked his head from the corner. You looked up from your computer with widened eyes.

“What’s up?” You grinned.

“There’s um– a new intern. I’m s’posed to show him around but I have a meeting,” He groaned. “I mean, I know Hyunjae’s the head president of the company and all. Important and stuff. But he’s also your boyfriend. Please tell him to stop swarming me with work.”

You snickered. “I can’t do anything about that. He’s the boss of you. And also me.” You glanced down at the pristine and shiny name tag on your desk. Secretary. It would have been severely unprofessional for the secretary and the president to be dating. But you initially weren’t dating. You simply had signed up for this job not knowing that you would fall in love with said president.

Now, it was some sort of game. Keeping your relationship secret and far from prying eyes. The only person who knew was Kevin because he had accidentally walked in on you two kissing behind the desk. It was half thrilling and half exhausting. Especially since Hyunjae’s always been a touchy man. If you ever so walked up to his desk to give him papers to sign, he would have his hands all over your waist, keeping you from going anywhere.

Kevin rolled his eyes and motioned to the door.

“Can you show the intern around though?” He pleaded. “Promise, I’ll buy you a drink tomorrow.”

You bit your lip, looking between him and your computer. It was flashing with the schedules that you were supposed to make for Hyunjae. But with the way Kevin looked at you so helplessly, you couldn’t help but sigh and get up from your desk.

“Fine. You owe me.”

He cheered and ran out the door. You wondered whether he even had a meeting to go to or if he had lied so he could go sing karaoke.

Fixing your hair and outfit, you opened the door. But you inhaled sharply when you came face to face with Hyunjae. This was what happened when his office was right next to yours. Like always, he looked handsome. But mostly he dressed the same. In those stupid, tailored suits that made his shoulders look incredibly broad.

“Hi!” You blurted out, smiling awkwardly.

He tilted his head with the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “Where are you going?”

“I should be asking why you’re here.” You raised an eyebrow. “Also, I’m going to be late.”

“Because,” He breathed out, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “I miss you. So tell me, why are you leaving me?”

You willed yourself not to blush. He told you that he missed you all the time yet you could never quite get used to it. “I’m not leaving you. I have to show an intern around.”

He frowned–cutely, dare you say. “I thought I told Kevin to do that.”

You shrugged. “Turns out he can’t. So bye.” You quickly slipped past him but you were stopped in your tracks when you felt an arm around your waist, pulling you right back. Hyunjae smiled softly down at you.

“Are you avoiding me?” He teased.

“No,” You huffed. “You’re just annoying. Go back to work.”

“But I love you.” He pouted, looking at you with puppy-like eyes. It was an ironic contrast to his swept-up hair and very put-together appearance. “But fine. I’ll go. Whatever.”

You laughed as you finally pulled away, much to his reluctance. “I’ll see you later.” He hummed, waving you off.

–

“This is your… office, I think.” You motioned your hand to one of the empty desks. “Or that one?” You squinted at the other one. “I’m sorry. This isn’t my forte. My co-worker usually–”

“It’s okay.” The intern smiled. “I’d prefer you anyday.” You blinked when you realized that his smile had some other intention behind it.

“Oh,” You managed. “Thanks.”

He nodded. Wincing, you also came to the realization that his eyes were constantly wandering over you. Would now be the right time to tell him that you had a boyfriend? But what if he asked who? Then you would be in trouble.

So, you chose to stay quiet. In any other person’s eyes, it would be sensible to see that this new intern was handsome. He was tall, had sharp eyes, blah, blah. You didn’t really care much as you walked over to the break room.

“This is where you can come and take a break.” You smiled politely. “The coffee machine is always broken so don’t expect much.”

The man laughed. “You’re funny, did you know that? And cute.”

You let out a confused noise. “Ah– thank you?” Stepping away, since frankly, he had stepped closer to you, you headed out the door. “I’ll show you the… president’s office.” The man hummed, trailing behind you. A bit too close for your liking, but whatever, you told yourself. Just get this over with.

Once you arrived there, you peered through the window, only to realize that Hyunjae was nowhere to be seen. You sighed.

“He’s not there. I guess we’ll go somewhere else.”

“I know where we can go,” The intern replied. “There’s a cafe down the street. If you want, I can buy you a drink?”

You widened your eyes, taking a step backward. “I have a– uh…”

The intern watched you silently before he raised an eyebrow. “He isn’t here though, now is he?”

You clenched your jaw, at the fact that this guy was really implying that you should cheat. “Actually…”

His hand came up to your shoulder, probably to pull you closer. Except, his hand never quite landed there.

There was another hand that had wrapped around the intern’s wrist, stopping him. You could recognize it anywhere. The pretty, pretty hand that often cupped your jaw to pull you into a kiss. Hyunjae stepped forward, placing himself in between the two of you.

“What are you doing?” He muttered.

The intern visibly gulped as he backed up. “Nothing.”

You could only watch silently as Hyunjae approached him further, practically towering over him. So maybe the intern wasn’t so tall after all.

“Go,” He urged. “You’re particularly bold for someone who’s just started here.” Hyunjae’s voice was low and calm but you could see the way his hand blindly reached behind him to hold onto yours. You smiled slightly when you could feel his fingers wrapping around protectively.

The intern practically scrambled out the door, claiming he needed to use the bathroom. You hadn’t shown him where it was yet.

He’ll figure it out.

With a sigh, Hyunjae turned around. He looked you over with worried eyes.

Your gaze softened. “Hyunjae…”

He shook his head, glancing at the other workers. “There are people watching. I’ll talk to you later.”

You nodded slowly, stepping away.

For the rest of the day, you could barely focus on any of your tasks. Your heart was thumping as you constantly paused your typing to figure out if Hyunjae was angry at you or not. Glancing at the clock, you sighed. Two more hours.

–

After work was finished, the two of you headed home together. But unlike his usual talkative self, he was awfully quiet. The only thing that stayed the same was his hand that held tightly onto yours. Whenever you glanced at him, you noticed his pouted lips and furrowed eyebrows. But when you squeezed his hand tightly, you could see a shy smile grow on his lips. Stifling a laugh, that was what confirmed that he wasn’t mad at you particularly.

Once the door was unlocked and open, Hyunjae was immediately pulling off the outer layer of his suit. He closed the door behind him and you gasped quietly once you felt two warm hands grasp your waist, turning you around and pressing you up against the wood of the door.

Immediately, he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. This was unlike the soft kisses he liked to wake you up with. This kiss was fervent and heart-stopping. With muffled noises, you allowed him to kiss you intensely, his hands wandering all over your sides.

Slowly, at some point, when you had tugged at his hair, he slowed down, his lips moving unhurriedly and gently against yours. You began to smile, peeking an eye open to see just how adorably concentrated he was. Eyebrows furrowed, cheeks flushed pink, eyes squeezed shut, you found him very endearing.

When he had broke apart, he leaned in so that he could rest his forehead against yours, breathing slightly heavily.

“Don’t be like this,” You whispered with an amused lilt in your voice.

“Like what?” He questioned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You looked up at him with skepticism when you felt his hands still gripping your waist possessively.

“Jealous,” You teased. “You’re jealous.”

He grumbled, diving in to bury his nose into the slope of your neck. “I can’t help it.”

“But you are aware that I only love you, hm?” You grinned, placing your hands on his shoulders to make him face you. His ears were tinted red now, along with his cheeks.

“I know, but–”

“Come on,” You took his hand in yours, pulling him along. “Let’s go wash up.”

As the two of you were walking down the hallway, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Hyunjae paused and looked at you with confusion.

“What’s funny?” He frowned.

“You know…” You leaned in, cupping his jaw with one hand. He looked down at you with slight surprise. “You’re kind of hot when you’re jealous.”

His surprised expression quickly turned into an embarrassed one. His eyes shut closed as he pulled you back in.

“Shut up,” He mumbled with adorably flushed cheeks. You were about to make another remark but he was quick to cut you off with another kiss. This one was so, so, sweet that it might have left your stomach full of butterflies.

“Still very hot,” You muttered, winking when he pulled away. He groaned exasperatedly and shut the bathroom door behind him.

–

When you entered your room, you found Hyunjae sitting in the middle of the bed, changed out of his work clothes. His hair was tousled and messy as he fiddled with his fingers.

With a fond smile, you sat cross-legged in front of him. You loved this side of him. The one that wasn’t the company president. Instead, it was the side that was just a man who was incredibly in love with you. He told you that every day without fail. He peered at you with sad eyes before looking back down at his lap.

With a light laugh, you lifted his chin with the tips of your fingers.

“Still feeling down?” You crooned.

He searched your eyes with so much affection behind them. And then he nodded quietly, his gaze wandering to your lips. Understanding his silent plea, you smiled before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his.

Instantly, he was pressing forward to deepen it, his hands coming to grasp you anywhere he could. You giggled, feeling ticklish from the way his fingers wandered over you. When he pulled away, he looked at you questioningly.

“Do you think he’s handsome?”

You smiled slyly an idea appearing in your head. You loved to tease him after all.

“Well, conventionally… he has the face.”

Hyunjae’s expression only fell even more at that, a frown appearing on his lips.

“But, I think you’re a hundred times more,” You whispered, pinching his cheek.

“More?”

“Handsome.” And then you shuffled forward. Without a warning, you cupped his face in your hands. Instinctively, he shut his eyes. With an amused huff, you leaned in to press a kiss on each of his eyelids. They fluttered open in surprise. “Your eyes are pretty. Like a deer’s.”

He smiles softly at that. But instead of stopping, you only leaned in again. This time, you kissed his cheeks. “And you’re cute when you’re blushing.” And right on cue, his cheeks flushed a slight pink. Moving onto the tip of his nose, you lingered there for a moment. He let out a confused noise. Slowly, very slowly, you moved down to his lips.

Pressing your lips against his, your hand came to stroke his hair softly.

“All of your features are perfect. So handsome,” You whispered.

He was silent, staring at you with wide eyes. And then he whined, lunging forward to pull you into a hug. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You laughed.

“Whatever you did.”

“Are you shy?”

He froze. And then nodded.

“If I told the rest of the office about this…”

“Don’t,” He blurted out, pulling away. That was when you registered that he was full-on blushing. Cheeks red, pupils dilated… You smiled, satisfied at the sight. "I'm going to get fired."

"What, for being shy? Not really a work matter is it?"

"For being in love with you."

Your heart skipped a beat. And then you laughed. "Ah... let them find out. You know, Sunwoo's been onto us for a while right?"

"He is?"

"Yeah," You snorted. "Because of that one day you pulled me into a closet to make out with me. You crumpled my collar. And you messed up my hair. And my neck was–"

"Okay, okay," He fumbled for words. "Fine, I'll be more professional." You eyed him with doubt.

Suddenly, he stood up and pulled out a hoodie. And then he made you wear it, much to your demise.

“So that everyone knows that you’re mine,” He stated.

You snorted, pulling him into bed and under the covers. “But there’s no one else here.”

“I don’t care,” He mumbled sleepily. His arms wrapped around you warmly and protectively. You felt your heart thump and thump as you gazed at his loving expression, his eyes soft and warm. And for a certain reason that had to do specifically with jealousy, he held you extra tight that evening.

“I would never want to lose you,” He had said before kissing you softly, again and again.

You smiled against his lips. Unable to verbally respond, you kissed back as if to tell him, "Me too."

–

The next day, you exited your office. And again, you almost rammed straight into Hyunjae.

He looked down at you smugly. You rolled your eyes, knowing very well that he was much different at home.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, cornering you back into your office. His hands came to the wall, caging you against the hard surface.

You looked at him unimpressed. “A meeting. Didn't you say you were going to be more professional?”

“But I miss you,” He leaned in, whispering into your ear.

“I know you do. Is that why you were mumbling my name in your sleep last night?”

He froze, his eyes widening. “Did I?”

You nodded with a laugh.

“F-forget that,” He stuttered. “I miss you now.”

“Aw." You pouted mockingly. "But I have a meeting now.”

“Is it with that intern?”

You winced slightly and replied with a small "yes."

“Then don’t go,” He grumbled. And before you could protest, he was already pressing you up against the wall to kiss you harshly.

–

"I'm going to start with the presentation." Kevin walked in, esteemed and confident.

The intern furrowed his eyebrows with confusion. "Where's Y/n?"

Kevin turned on his computer casually. Though if someone were to look closely, they could see the knowing smile on his lips and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"Busy."

#deoboyznet #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader #drabbles 💞#requests 💞

229 notes · View notes

peachsayshi · 9 months

Note

Heyaa peachieee

Are you gonna be continuing the brother's bff geto series ? I like it a lot can't wait to see what happens next 😩❤️

“whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”

⊱ ─── [ ❦ ] ─── ⊰

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ older brother’s best friend geto x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: (part 1/part 2)tension; alcohol; reader is gojo's sister; reader has a big fat crush on geto; size difference; working on the next part just figuring out which direction to go ~

⥽ notes: nonnie! I'm glad you asked because I've had this simmer in my head since I wrote the last part. For those who asked, I will update my ex husband geto series next, and then inexperienced reader x geto <3

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You sway your hips to the beat of the song, the sparkling beads adorning your chest shimmer underneath dim lights. Champagne bubbles pop in your veins, orchestrating the arch and writhe of your sensual movements in the middle of the crowded room. You aren’t paying any attention to the unwanted stares zoning in on your group, too blissed out on the high of achieving another successful milestone in your life.

Graduation arrived faster than you expected. With the ceremony now just a couple of weeks away, you find yourself gifted with all the free time in the world, leaving behind the stress of your assignments and finals but you’re so happy to make it to the end of this long, winding road.

Your friend tugs you close to her chest, her sparkling dress matching your top and your other friend's skirt, and gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. She’s singing loudly, her inebriated mind making her jumble up the lyrics in a cute manner. You sing along with her, trying to guide her as you hold her cheeks in the palm of your hands and heartily belt out the tune. Two hands then find your waist, and your other friend spins you back towards her to keep on dancing. You circle your arms around her neck, and playfully whine against her as the scent of alcohol and perfume filters the air around you. You don’t even know if your make up is still snatched or if the setting spray you had applied earlier has waned against the sweat misting off your body.

For whatever you don’t even care.

You’ve spent the last four months burying yourself deep into your work, and tonight is about rewarding yourself and living in the moment.

You wanted nothing more than to do just that.

“I’m going to get some water, would you like some?” you hoarsely speak into your friend’s ear, your throat constricting from the tension around your vocal chords.

“Yes, please! We’ll wait for you right here!”

You sashay through the sea of strangers, avoiding the eyes taking in your risqué outfit. You knew that your silver backless top would garner a lot of attention, the fabric only held together by two thin straps around your neck and lower back. However, you liked the change to your usual style of clothing, and looked fantastic on the flattering pair of black pants that you had on while matching perfectly with your platform heels.

Your ears buzz from the sensory imbalance when you leave the underground dance floor and walk upstairs to the bar with the hard thumping bass muffling as you are now surrounded by softer, upbeat tones.

The entire room is packed.

You've only been down for a couple of hours, but you're taken aback at how quickly the bar hit capacity. You shouldn’t be surprised after all, considering that this establishment is the latest hot spot in the city…

… and, of course you would spot him out of the crowd of people.

Suguru is leaning against the bar looking more formal than usual. He is wearing a button down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and showing off his intricate tattoos underneath. He has on sleek tailored pants, the color mirroring the length of his hair dripping down his back like ink pressing into paper, and the front of his bangs are tied back to reveal that perfectly handsome face which had heads turning at every angle.

Alarm bells ring in the back of your mind, but thankfully you’re relieved to figure out that your brother, Satoru, isn’t around.

Suguru is hanging out with his other friends...the ones you don’t know very well and only met for the first time on the night of his twenty-eighth birthday.

There is a guy with bluish gray hair, who has pretty features and an interesting scar on his face, but upon recognizing him you immediately remember Utahime’s cautionary words to be mindful.

Then there is a second guy whose face isn’t one to forget due to all his piercings and how his hair is styled into two little space buns, and despite his somewhat dissociative expression, he looked like he could pass as Suguru’s brother.

The memory of the party flashes through your mind in between your stunned blinks.

That night was the last time you saw Suguru in person.

After your emotional reaction to watching him kiss somebody else, you thought that avoiding your crush might be the best solution to heal your wounded heart. The only contact you’ve had with Suguru since then has been via text, but even then you were trying your best not to linger in conversation with him.

You still have no idea who that woman was, and shudder at the possibility of Suguru potentially being romantically involved with somebody else.

Suddenly, dark eyes fall on yours and the room around you grows quiet. The music fades into the distance as bodies blur together like colors on an artist’s palette. The only person remaining still is the man before you, standing tall and prominent, with the environment glowing around him like a halo and reminding you that you are simply just a foolish girl who forgot to pull out cupid’s arrow.

You rip your eyes away immediately, the adrenaline forcing you to turn your heel and walk over to the other side of the bar where everything floods back in, where the booming chatter and loud song collides into your ribs and leaves you breathless.

Your heart starts racing - the bar area appears much smaller than it initially seemed when you first walked upstairs but you finally make it to the counter and rest both your elbows on the edge as a way to steady your feet.

You catch the bartender’s attention, who is busy pirouetting between jotting down orders and mixing drinks, while trying your best to ignore his piercing gaze barreling through from the opposite side of the counter.

“Can I get three bottles of water, please?” you speak loudly, having to repeat yourself just one more time to make sure that the bartender heard you.

You only have a couple of minutes of peace before your spine goes rigid. A shocking cold crawls up each vertebrae, and a tickling drip of water cascades down your back which is swiftly brushed away by a gentle graze of knuckles.

You glance over your shoulder to find him right behind you.

“S-Suguru…”

The space between your shoulder blades is burning from the icy contact, and the man sweetly smiles in your direction as he pulls away his cold beer from your back.

This is only testing your patience.

“I thought that it was you,” he says as he places his drink down onto the counter. “I almost didn’t recognize you for a minute…”

You part your lips to reply, but your words catch in your throat. You anxiously shift from one foot to the next, desperately mustering up a quick reason to excuse yourself, but a stranger from behind bumps right into your shoulder at that exact moment which causes you to lose your balance.

Suguru’s hand finds your waist immediately to steady you, his palm rests on the fabric of your top while his fingers catch your exposed flesh. Your skin tingles from his touch, making your cheeks burst with a warmth that has you feeling unusually hot.

The worst part is you feel like he can see how your body is betraying you in this way as his sharply pries you open bit by bit.

His gaze falls to your chest, and he arches his brow slightly when he glances over your outfit, a hint of a smile curling his lip before returning to face you.

“Now what would Satoru say if he saw you in this, hmmm?” he teases, his digits innocently pinching into your soft flesh.

“You’re not going to say anything to him, right?” you stammer immediately as you force the words right out of you.

The last thing you needed was a rant from your overprotective brother.

Suguru shakes his head, “of course not, what Satoru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, I’ll let you have your fun...”

You aren't quite sure if it's the way you can practically taste him on the tip of your tongue, or the lingering alcohol that makes the room around you spin, but statement makes your own eyes fall to his lips with the memory of the way he kissed you now swirling in your mind.

“Are you here alone?” he asks seriously, and as if he can read your thoughts, he slowly drops his hand by his side before taking another step forward to seal the gap of space to prevent causing traffic to the people walking back and forth behind him.

“I’m here with my friends,” you explain, feeling like a caged little bird trapped between him and the bar, “they are downstairs…”

“Three waters!” the bartender interrupts as he slides over the bill.

Suguru is quick to push back the check in the bartender’s direction, “put whatever she wants on my tab,” he announces, and the statement only makes you feel even more self conscious.

“You got it,” the bartender replies with a thumbs up.

Suguru assists in handing you the bottles of water, and you stammer over your words once more when you speak.“T-Thanks, but you really don’t have to do that...”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies with a wink, “it’s good seeing you. I’ll let you get back to your friends.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your heart doesn’t stop spinning, and neither do you - so, you dull your senses with more drinks. You're not drunk enough to forget that the man you are infatuated with is hanging out just a floor above you, but you are nicely buzzed not to care about how the close proximity messes with your feelings.

Everything is a hazy blur until a few of the main lights start to flicker. The establishment is signaling their first warning that they will be closing soon and as the most sober(ish) person in your party, you take it upon yourself to lure your two friends back upstairs so you can all head home.

The three of you stumble out of the entrance. You’re holding onto your friend’s waist, while the other spins out in the middle of the sidewalk like the music never left her feet.

“Where to next?” she squeals a bit too loudly, and you sassily pull out your phone to show her the Uber application.

“Back home,” you reply, and she pouts like a child whose toy has just been snatched away.

“Boring,” your other friend mumbles, the weight of her body falling onto your shoulder and you almost collapse as you try to keep her upright.

You furrow your brows to check for the quickest pick up, but the earliest ride you can find is fifteen minutes away.

“Need a lift?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, an echo reverberating around your ribcage and reaching all the way to the tip of your fingers. You swallow the tiny lump in your throat as you raise away from the blue light to put a face to that very familiar voice.

“Whose this?” your first friend mumbles, while the other stares at Suguru keenly with her mouth slightly agape.

“My brother’s best friend,” you mutter awkwardly before proceeding to decline his offer, “it’s alright, the Uber should be here soon.”

“And my car is parked just up the street,” he reassures calmly as he tilts his chin towards the direction of his vehicle before sliding both hands in his pocket. “You don’t have to worry, I just had the one beer earlier when I saw you but I haven’t been drinking…”

“Say yes, he’s really cute…” your friend with interested eyes that have not left Suguru’s, whispers quietly into your ear.

“I can’t help but agree with her,” Suguru smartly replies with a shrug, and that easy smile which makes his face glow as your friend giggles like a teenager.

You can’t help but shoot her a frustrated glare.

“I don’t want to intrude on your evening…”

Suguru huffs out a laugh, finding it cute that you are adamant on getting your way, before refuting that “it is not an intrusion at all, besides, Satoru would kill me if he knew that I just left you behind..."

Grinning thoughtfully in your direction, he made his final plea.

"Just cancel the ride. I’ll get you girls home in no time…”

You do as you're told because you’re too exhausted to protest otherwise.

The three of you follow Suguru to his car. He's a gentleman holding the backseat door open for your two friends, extending his hand out as he helps each of them climb inside. You can see how easily besotted they were by this act, but it only makes your chest tighten with envy.

You almost follow suit but hesitate when Suguru steps in the way.

“Want to sit up front?”

You can feel your worn, drained heart climb up from out of your throat and grip your face with its weak hands to beg you to decline. You should be trying to shield yourself from him, but how are you expected to resist with that kind of softness oozing from his soulful irises?

No wonder he gets so much attention, you think, convinced that he’s somehow cracked the code on how to hypnotize the most vulnerable of hearts with a single look.

You nip at the inside of your cheek anxiously but mindlessly nod yes in agreement.

Suguru shuts the door to the backseat.

You settle yourself in the front seat of his car breathing in the scent of sage with a hint of tobacco and shiver at the memory of how close you were when inhaled this scent last while his body was on top of yours.

The car itself is clean overall, but Suguru has always been meticulous about keeping everything in its place, unlike your brother who lived in a world of organized chaos. Sometimes you can’t help but compare the two of them, like you're trying to understand the details of how they complete one another while still being total opposites.

Your eyes fall to the decorative piece hanging from the front view mirror where you see a tiny polaroid framed within a wonky design.

There’s Suguru, who looks about your age, with the brightest grin on his face and whiskers painted on his cheeks. He is wearing black cat ears to match his two younger step-sisters, Mimiko and Nanako, who are also in the picture and are happily snuggled up in his arms.

“The girls made it for me,” he says, his voice low enough for just you to hear.

“Gosh, they look so young…”

“About four years old. This was a year after my mom got remarried…”

You flash him a smile, trying your best to ignore the way your body is currently simmering over such casual conversation. “It’s a really cute photo, Sugu”

He quirks his brow with amusement, a tender expression masking his face. "I'll show you the rest of them some other time…"

You subconsciously clench your thighs together, startled by the idea of you and your crush cozying up on a sofa while he shows you memories to the pieces of his life that you rarely ever get to see.

Despite your heart beating just a bit faster at the thought, your mind immediatelninterjects as a cautious reminder not to read into the situation.

Suguru fastens his seat belt, and quickly peaks over his shoulder to check on your two friends.

“Are you girls comfortable?”

“Yes, we are! Thanks again for the ride, uhm…erm…brother’s friend, uh…” one of you friends mumbles in an attempt to fish out his name.

“Suguru,” he politely replies then turns on the ignition.

“Thanks for the ride, Su-gu-ruu!” she repeats with exaggeration but for whatever reason it only feeds into your embarrassment.

“Hey, isn’t that…” your other friend intervenes innocently as she arches forward to rest her chin on your chair. “Isn’t that also the name of the guy you have a crush on?”

The weight of the world descends upon you the . Your body gradually shrinks in size, and you can feel yourself growing smaller and smaller as the seconds pass in silence.The slip of her tongue makes your eyes widen, and you ball your hands up into tight fists to form crescents in your palms as you anxiously clench your jaw.

Suguru’s face perks up instantly, and his movements slow down as one hand shifts to find the wheel while the other puts the car in reverse.

The air feels far too light, making it impossible for you to breathe. You know he heard that question, loud and clear, but you’re too mortified to even look at those magnetizing eyes. You can feel the heat of his stare unravel you, but you swiftly spin your head to face the busy streets and blurry lights just outside your window.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

#geto x reader #geto x female reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x female reader #suguru geto fan fiction #geto fan fiction #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #jjk fan ficition

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shybunnie20 · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Bff!Robin Buckley

★My Masterlist

Summary: Your relationship with Eddie isn't what it used to be. Things take a turn for the worse and he faces the fragility of life when you're left at death's doorstep.

Author's Note: This is the longest one shot I've written so far. I worked on this for two months, so please let me know if you enjoy it! Be sure to reblog, follow, and show some love ♡

Author's Note Cont.: Established relationship. AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Predominantly angst but has fluffy moments. Bittersweet ending! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Descriptions of physical trauma (of the reader). Heartache, arguing, Eddie being a crybaby, includes swearing.

tags: @protecteddiemunson4vr

Initially, you were on the fence about moving in with Eddie, it was his childhood home after all. You were worried about imposing and it’s nerve-wracking to officially combine your life with someone else’s.

Wayne assured you that he was happy to leave the trailer to the two of you so that you and Eddie could pursue your lives together. You were considered a part of his family and he knew you’d take good care of his nephew; he expected Eddie to look after you just the same.

Once you had agreed to make the transition, Eddie had to learn to accommodate your needs in the confined space he’d previously shared with his uncle.

You folded your arms and took in the cluttered bedroom. “Can we please take some of these posters down?”

Eddie feigned annoyance with a throaty groan, but beneath it, he was eager to appease you. “Fine, but the Corroded Coffin banner stays up.” With a devilish smile, he pulled you into his embrace.

The unnecessarily secure hug caused a strained giggle to escape you. “Eddieee! That’s too tight!”

He chuckled amusedly and loosened his grip. After nestling his nose into your hair, he hummed with contentment. “This is your castle now, princess.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and sighed. “Someday I’m gonna get you a big house with a yard and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

You smiled and buried your face into his neck. “My home is wherever you are. If we grow old together in this tin can then so be it.”

That was well over a year ago and things are far from how they were. The air, once saccharine, has a sour aftertaste that has failed to melt away as you’d hoped.

Eddie is making every effort to juggle his responsibilities. He plays twice a week at The Hideout with his band, which means frequent late-night practice sessions. Despite being a Hawkins High alumnus, he remains the Hellfire Club Dungeon Master. In addition, he works extended shifts at the auto shop. More often than not, they need all hands on deck, being that it’s the only one in town.

Due to his demanding schedule, you don’t see him much anymore. There’s always something that he has to tend to. By telling yourself that his absence isn’t personal, you’re unknowingly making excuses for your boyfriend’s inability to make time for you.

Each day, Eddie wakes up at the crack of dawn to get ready for work. If you’re lucky, he’ll place a brief kiss on your forehead while you’re tucked under the shabby blankets; not even awake to savor the gesture of waning affection. Most nights, you’re exactly where he saw you last. Fast asleep and worn out from your own job and keeping the mobile home tidy.

The lack of physical intimacy has Eddie feeling rather unsatisfied. On a few occasions, he slipped into bed beside you and his hands searched your body in the dark. It was low to be copping a feel but his self-restraint had been whittled down from exhaustion. You’d pushed his hand away and mumbled in semi-cognizant disinterest. Left rejected and frustrated, Eddie’s hurt feelings have brought on a distant shift in his demeanor. His internal thunder matches the rumble of your own.

At this rate, you’re merely coexisting with one another. Hardly so, given that he’s rarely home. You’ve been nothing but patient and supportive of his copious passions. Truly, you’re glad that Eddie has these things in his life that make him feel fulfilled, you just wish that you were still one of them.

There’s a good chance that communicating will resolve the strain, but you can’t bring yourself to speak up. It’s pathetic to beg for his undivided attention. Thinking that you could tough it out, you’ve broken your own heart by waiting for him to realize how lonesome you’ve been.

Instead of counting sheep, you lay and wonder if it's fate that the two of you have grown apart. Regardless of kismet interpretations, it’s debilitating to continue a masquerade of pretending that this isn’t torturous. You’ve killed a part of yourself to keep this love afloat with no lifeboats in sight.

This relationship is more than its worst moments but you’ve exhausted the idea that this is simply a rough patch. A day where anything changes for the better remains a pipe dream.

You’ve bid farewell to the little moments that once meant so much. Light years ago, Eddie couldn’t bear to have you out of his arms for more than a few minutes. He'd wrap his arms around your waist and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you washed dishes at the kitchen sink. He would pull you closer by the belt loops of your jeans to kiss you with fervor after just a few short hours apart. At the time, hours felt like an eternity.

It stings, feeling that you’re not missed. Or at least not missed enough for him to make an effort to be home more. You’ve stopped looking for reasons to stay because he hasn’t given you any. But for the sake of it, you give him one last chance.

Eddie pinky promised he’d be home for dinner tonight. With renewed optimism, you whip up his favorite comfort foods. It feels odd to be cooking after countless weeks of takeout leftovers. You’ve gotten so used to gnawing on cold pizza that eating has lost its significance.

After swiping on a little makeup, you slip into an outfit that’s a step up from your usual sweatpants and t-shirt. The uneasy feeling in your gut bears a striking similarity to how you felt the night of your first date with Eddie. The inexplicable desire to impress him is undeniable. Maybe if you look pretty enough, he’ll remember that you still exist. Ultimately, how the evening goes will determine where you belong. Whether it be in his life or elsewhere. You’re sincerely coveting the former.

Eddie swore on being home by six sharp. Even so, the steam rising off of the hand-cooked meal dissipates as it grows cold. You take a final glance at your watch and concede defeat at the forty-five-minute mark of his tardiness. As much as you hate to admit it, you should’ve known better than to trust that he’d show.

Time has always had a way of throwing it all in your face, but it never fails to wreck you. Just like the days that led to this one, the sun came up and went down. You can’t discern whether it’s what Eddie did or didn’t do. If it was the lack of effort or the intentional cold shoulder. At the end of the day, all of the love is still there but it serves no purpose now.

The chair creaks as you get to your feet. You step into the kitchen and refill your drinking glass at the sink, promptly gulping down the milk-tinted water as a placeholder for the meal you didn’t have. Your skull acts as a cauldron for the boiling hurt and it bubbles to a feverish froth. Before you can stop yourself, you chuck the glass down onto the worn linoleum and jagged shards scatter across the floor. Along with it, you fall to pieces. Your back slams against the cupboard as you slide down until your tailbone meets the floor.

At fifteen minutes to ten, the trailer door slams closed with a thud. Eddie toes off his grimy work boots and notices the romantic setting for two, the plates entirely untouched. It’s immediately evident to him that you went out of your way to put together a special evening that is well past expired.

Eddie’s gaze then finds the broken glass. He inhales sharply and concern coats his lungs. He heads down the hall toward the light emitting from the bedroom and calls out. “My bad for being late, I was-” Eddie reaches the doorway and his sentence drops off when he sees you haphazardly shoving clothes into a duffel bag. “What’re you doing?” He asks, his voice sewn tightly with puzzlement.

Mutely tugging open the top drawer of the dresser, you grab a fistful of socks and underwear and tuck it into the bag. Eddie used to be able to finish your sentences, but tonight you’ll be finishing his. You’re already anticipating the bullshit justifications that you’ve heard time and time again.

Eddie becomes frustrated with being blatantly ignored. When you shift to step past him, he blocks the doorway by extending his arm. “I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” You look into his hardened eyes, your own marbled with inflamed crimson veins. “But there’s no way I’m staying here.”

There’s a throbbing in his ribcage at the sight of how visibly saddened you are. Finally being confronted with the consequences of his actions, Eddie swallows hard. “You can’t be serious.”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Your icy stare falters with the release of a shaky exhale. “I'm done waiting around for you.” Eddie’s expression only adds insult to injury, the fucking nerve of him to play dumb right now.

He throws his head back and scoffs, “Give me a break, I didn’t mean to be late! I was the only one closing tonight.”

Unconvinced, you mutter, “Uh huh,” while ducking beneath his blockading limb.

Eddie scoffs louder this time. “Okay, I see how it is. You think I’m lying.”

You don’t care if he’s telling the truth or not. Even with all of the space that’s amassed between the two of you, there’s no room for honesty. Eddie continues to prod while you rummage through the bathroom drawers gathering necessities.

The beat of your heart thumps wildly in your ears. All the while, your bones have caught a fever, and the fire in your chest spreads, charring your throat as the flames continue to climb. The blistering smoke irritates the backs of your eyes, causing tears to reform and your nose to run.

Eddie makes a sound of artificial amusement and it reverberates off of the shallow walls as he follows you to the living room. “Convincing performance, babe. You’re really sellin’ it, but you can put the bag down now, alright? I get it. I learned my lesson.”

While putting on your shoes you swallow a whimper. Your backbone is coming apart at the seams, but you refuse to express how distraught you truly are.

Folding his arms across his chest, Eddie continues. “Are you seriously making this big of a deal over one missed dinner?”

You stand and take a step toward him, accusingly pressing your pointer finger to his chest. Applying enough pressure that your nail leaves an indentation. “If you think this is because of one dinner, you’re fucking delusional.”

The hinges on the front door squeal as you push it open and walk outside. For far too long all you’d wanted was him, but now being in the same room is unbearable.

Eddie treads on your heels, descending the concrete steps out into the ill-lit trailer park. “Can you not be so overdramatic for once in your life? This is ridiculous. C’mon, let’s just go back inside and talk it out.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You growl while jamming the keys into the door of your car and tossing the duffel bag onto the passenger seat. It’s not improbable that if he begged you right now, you’d give in. Part of you is relieved that he isn’t on his knees because you’d never be able to walk away otherwise. Without sparing another glance in his direction, you reverse and steer out of the trailer park.

Cemented in place, Eddie’s socked feet press into the rocky gravel. The lights from the neighboring mobile homes flare like lasers as tears deluge his vision. The utter disbelief that you’re leaving him causes a surge of nausea to churn in his abdomen. What the hell just happened?

As luck would have it, Robin answers when you ring her doorbell. “Hey! Oh- you look like shit.”

Your shoulders slump with the bow of your head, feeling just as shitty as you look. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Errr, sorry. Come on in.” Robin insists, stepping aside for you to enter her home.

The two of you plop down on her living room couch and share a short-lived silence before unpacking the evening’s sequence of events. To the best of her ability, Robin digests your nonsensical blubbering about how you didn’t want to ask Eddie to give up the things he loved.

Half a box of tissues later, you’ve calmed some. “I feel like such a fucking idiot.” You sniffle and fiddle with a loose thread on your sleeve. “Y’know, I can’t even remember the last time we showered together. He treats me like a roommate. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he isn’t in love with me anymore.”

Robin frowns. “I don’t blame you. I’m sorry that you’re going through this.” She takes your hand in hers and squeezes it reassuringly.

Shortly after you’d left Forest Hills, Eddie did the same. He figured taking a joy ride down the streets of Hawkins could help clear his conscience. With heavy metal crackling from the stereo, he drives down the sparsely illuminated avenues. In an attempt to escape from his bleeding reality, he focuses on the beat of the music; tapping the steering wheel with his sterling silver-adorned digits.

This is the worst fight you and Eddie have ever had. Sure, there have been trivial arguments over him leaving water on the bathroom floor after taking a shower. Not to mention, Eddie was particularly explosive about you misplacing his belongings while cleaning the trailer. However, it has never gotten heated to the extent that either of you stormed off.

As much as you appreciate Robin’s hospitality, you feel that you’ve overstayed your welcome. Especially since she has to work in the morning. On your way out, you hug her firmly to convey your gratitude. “Thanks for being such a good friend, Robin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Robin rests her arms on the car door as you settle behind the wheel. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

With a nod, you force a grin as a semblance of emotional stability. “I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, but still. At least let me know when you get to the motel.” With a sympathetic expression, Robin pushes the door closed and watches as you back out of the driveway.

Truthfully you would rather stay at Robin’s place than at a crusty motel, but you can’t bring yourself to burden her with your hardships. The radio hisses with a channel teasing to stick. A faint melody fades in and out of the static as you concentratedly twist the tuning dial to find the sweet spot. While preoccupied, you fail to notice that you’re driving through a four-way intersection.

Glass rains down like hail when the driver’s side door is struck. The echo of skidding tires halts as your vehicle comes to a complete stop, the passenger side crushed inward by the thick trunk of a tree. The other driver stumbles out into the street, disorientated by whiplash. They frantically shout for help and flag down a car that pulls up to the intersection.

It’s not long before the accident is encircled by emergency responders. Dismal gray columns of smoke lift into the air as the engine’s inferno heats the mangled steel frame that cages your scathed body.

Meanwhile, Eddie ventures to decompress at the private spot he used to frequent with his trusty lighter and a single lazily rolled joint. As he turns the corner of Highland and Chestnut, he’s taken aback by the twirling red and blue streams of light.

The firemen work skillfully to free you from the burning structure. Secured by your seatbelt, you’re slumped forward in your seat; your chin digging into your clavicle. The blaze roaring just inches away caresses you, leaving fiery kisses across your skin. Even so, the warmth gradually drains from your complexion as you begin to sink into the earth to lie forever. Death coaxes you with its enticingly bitter embrace and you're lured beyond control.

Eddie’s van slows as he drives past the scene. The catastrophic sight is unsettling but he can’t take his eyes off of the sparks from the jaws of life that cut the driver’s side door from the frame. It’s far too dark to make out what models of cars are involved.

By the looks of it, there’s a slim chance that whoever is being pulled from the vehicle will survive. There’s a morbid sense of comfort in knowing that he’s not the only one having an awful night. More than anything, he’s glad it’s not him who got into an accident.

Lakeside with the doors wide open, Eddie lies in the back of his van. He drags an ample hit from the joint, striving to cloud away the image of the ecstatic look you gave him when he’d assured you that he would be home on time. Eddie hasn’t seen you that excited in longer than he can remember. He wonders how this evening would’ve gone if he’d kept his word.

The argument replays, and it’s the frailty in your voice that’s penetrating deep into his memory. Eddie convinces himself that it was just a bad fight because that’s what couples do. You’ll come back in a day or so, you’ll hug and make up, and your lives will go back to normal.

Except that‘s exactly what got him into this situation. Things cannot go back to how they were, he has to do better. You deserve to be prioritized and he realizes that now.

Rattling fills the ambulance as it speeds over fragmented pavement caused by the most recent blackberry winter. Strapped on the gurney, you lie motionless. Catatonic, in essence, you're wading in and out of consciousness. Even though your eyes are practically swollen shut, you can see. Though, it’s like looking out of a frosted window. A pearlescent film alters the clarity and runs red due to the blood trickling down from the gash in your eyebrow.

The gurney wheels wobble as you’re rushed down the corridors of the hospital, lungs struggling for air as the bag valve mask offers little assistance to your labored breathing. Under the knife, the surgeons struggle to contain the internal bleeding and operate tirelessly to keep you alive.

After smoking himself as numb as physically possible, Eddie glances at his watch which indicates that it’s half past midnight. He zones out during the drive home and focuses on the painted white dashes that repeatedly disappear under his van. Once he stumbles back into the trailer, it feels exceptionally vacant and the silence is deafening.

Be that as it may, he’s bone-weary from the weed and the strenuous shift at work. Ultimately, he decides he’ll go to bed and deal with his emotions tomorrow. It’s probably for the best since he tends to make poor choices when he’s overtired.

Eddie shucks off the layers of denim and leaves them in a jumbled pile on the floor. His high has broken sooner than he preferred, which makes it difficult to doze off. For a while he tosses and turns on his side of the bed, respecting that the other side still belongs to you.

He listens to the sounds that he’d forgotten about. The crickets outside the window chirping like an off-tempo symphony, the buzzing of the outdated refrigerator in the kitchen, and dogs barking off in the distance. All of the sounds blend to create a foreign cradlesong, lulling him into the twilight of his mind. Your steady breathing is the lullaby he longs for. Shortly after his restless adjusting, exhaustion overtakes him.

Post-operation, the humming machine beside you controls respiration as you lie in the hospital bed. The cocktail of painkillers in your system has buried you into the bottomless oblivion of unconsciousness. Cessation of internal bleeding is a miracle in itself, but being put in a medically induced coma isn’t exactly a triumph.

Due to having broken ribs, the expansion of your chest is feeble. In order to ensure that you remain stable, the medical staff keeps a close eye.

The sun has long since climbed the horizon. Eddie sleeps well past noon due to his body taking the time it required to achieve a relatively homeostatic state. Last night, he was supposed to have an intimate dinner, make love to you, and wake up with you wrapped in his arms. Instead, he was tormented by the fact that not only failed you but his uncle as well. He was raised better than to take your love for granted.

Eddie finds his hands searching for the comfort of your warmth, only to be met with chilled bedsheets. Given that you didn’t come home, he’s quick to remember the unsteadiness he saw in your eyes. Eddie caught a glimpse of the exposed nerve that was worn down to the point of you giving up on him, and he hates himself for it.

He feels vexed that you didn’t express how you’d been feeling. Regardless, he should’ve known damn well that he was running the risk of losing you. Eddie has to figure out where you wound up and think of a way to make things right. One thing is for sure, Eddie refuses to go a single day without you.

After getting out of bed, he pulls on a questionably clean outfit plucked from a heap on the floor. Hell, it passes the sniff test. Correctly assuming that you went to Robin’s after the fight, Eddie snags his keys off of the kitchen counter and sets out to locate you.

When he arrives at Robin’s place, he’s met with an empty driveway. A tinge of worry casts a shadow but Eddie fights off the pessimistic thoughts that pelt him like an air raid. Without stopping, he drives to Family Video. Eddie suspects that Robin is at work if her car isn’t at home, but that leaves your car unaccounted for.

Distracted by the cyclone of desperation stirring powerfully within him, Eddie nearly trips when he hops out of his van. He strides through the double doors and leans his forearms against the front counter.

Robin appears from the back room having been beckoned by the door chime. She stops in her tracks and a bewildered expression forms on her freckled face.

“What’s that look for?” Eddie asks regarding her strong reaction to his presence.

“Uh- nothing.” She resumes her path to the counter and sits in front of the computer. Her fingers clack away on the keyboard to log returns into the system.

Eddie rubs the back of his neck and shifts his focus to a scuff on the surface of the countertop. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re already aware of what went down.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “She stayed with you last night, right?” If Eddie knows anything about you, it's how much you confide in your best friend. It’s a fair assumption, given that’s precisely where you went.

“No, she didn’t,” Robin says snappily, baffled by how inappropriately relaxed he’s acting right now. What is he even doing here?

Eddie’s brows furrow and he raises his head to look at her. “What do you mean no? Where’d she go then?”

Robin stops typing to look at him. “Wh- Do you not know?” When she learned of your incapacitation, she thought that surely Eddie had already found out.

His posture goes rigid as he straightens from his leaning position. That’s not a sentence that ever leads to promising news.

Swiveling on the stool, Robin cocks her head in disbelief at the lost look on Eddie’s face. “She’s in the ICU.”

Blood rushes to Eddie's head and his ears begin to ring like a pipe bomb just went off in the video store. “What? Where’d you get that idea?”

“I guess she had me listed as her emergency contact, I got the call this morning.”

Eddie shouts vehemently, “And you didn’t think to tell me that?!”

Robin raises her hands defensively. “I thought you knew!”

Already having spun around, Eddie dashes through the doors and hops back into his van. Going twenty miles per hour over the legal limit, he speeds down the drabby roads of Hawkins. Luckily he finds an open parking spot in the crowded lot of the hospital.

Following the wall directory that indicates where the intensive care unit is located, Eddie runs faster than he thought he was capable of. He conquers the lengthy stairwells thanks to the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His eyes scan his surroundings while he blindly navigates the polished hallways.

Eddie fails to heed the “medical personnel only” sign and barges into the unit. A voice calls out for security and addresses his intrusion. “Young man, you can’t go in there!”

Frantically inspecting the area, he spots your name listed on a board. The sharp pang in his side from being out of shape isn’t phasing him in the slightest. When Eddie passes the threshold to the room you’re in, his heart is gouged from his chest; ripped clean from the cavity at the sight before him.

Wrapped in bloodied gauze, your complexion is hellishly bruised with raisin and rust-colored burns. The array of discolored hues makes you look like a well-loved doll that’s been drawn on with a permanent marker.

All Eddie can muster is an exasperated “Oh, sweetheart...” with a wobbly lower lip as tears well in his eyes. He reaches for your hand, but just as his fingertips are about to graze yours, he’s yanked backward by a security guard.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Eddie wails. "Let me go!” His composure disintegrates as he tries to free himself from the guard’s unrelenting grip. The resistance only lasts a few seconds before Eddie’s muscles give out and he’s dragged away.

Astonishingly, Eddie respects the stern warning he receives. He knows that if he impedes, it’ll make things worse for you. He’s done enough damage as is.

In the third-floor waiting room, Eddie settles into the chair in the far corner. Sitting near the window would provide him with vitamin D, which would help him feel a little brighter, but he intentionally avoids it. He won’t allow himself to feel the glow of the sun when you’re clinging to life by the skin of your teeth.

The room is no larger than fifteen by eleven feet and has a sterile atmosphere that makes Eddie feel rather uneasy. The adrenaline dwindles from his system, allowing him to drift off while resting in the firm armchair. Understandably, considering he didn’t sleep well last night without you beside him.

Over the course of the day, the respiratory analysts run tests to determine whether you can be weaned off of the ventilator but you’re still unable to breathe unassisted.

“Mr. Munson?” A tall, older male doctor asks flatly.

Eddie stirs, his frizzy curls flying as he shakes away the drowsiness weighing on his eyelids. “Yeah, yes. That’s me.” He rubs his eyes with his fists and sits up. “How’s she doing, is she alright?”

“Well, the acute agonal respiration has…”

Eddie stares blankly as the medical jargon goes in one ear and out the other. It sounds like an entirely different language, he has no fucking clue what the doctor is talking about. Eddie is trying his best to comprehend the complex terminology.

“...a coma has been induced to allow her a better chance at healing. With that, we’re hoping to see a reduction in brain swelling. Though I do regret to inform you that the likelihood of her waking is a matter of if, not when.’

It feels like the roof is crashing down on Eddie, thrusting him through the layers of the earth until he reaches the molten outer core. Grief eats away at his sweat-slick skin, causing a loss of feeling in his fingertips as if the blood in his veins slows to a crawl.

“...If she does rouse, there’s a likelihood that she’ll experience anterograde amnesia.”

Eddie scoots to the edge of his seat and runs his palms roughly down his face. “Amnesia? Does that mean she won’t remember me?” He gulps sorely and his eyes form a glassy sheen at the notion of everything that the two of you shared being lost forever. He doesn’t even want to imagine what his life would be like without you.

The doctor opens and closes his hand as if to catch Eddie’s concern as it floats through the air. “No, no. She shouldn’t have difficulty with memory retrieval. Consolidation is what may be impacted. Only temporarily, we hope.”

With a disheartened “thank you” from Eddie, the doctor excuses himself. The strength that had kept Eddie’s tears at bay dwindles and he slumps back into the chair, sobbing noisily. He sinks his top teeth into his knuckles in an attempt to muffle the whimpers that tumble from his lips. What is he supposed to do now? Is he going to start praying to a god he doesn’t believe in?

With his optimism beyond pulverized, Eddie is overcome with the fear of losing you. How could he have let something like this happen? While managing the chaos of the present, Eddie lost sight of his future. You.

To say he’s regretful would be a substantial understatement. As Eddie realizes that you were in the burning car that he’d driven past, he feels like he’s going to be sick. The sensation is so strong that he keeps a small trash can nearby just in case.

Beyond the thick panes of glass, the setting sun brushes the horizon and leaves the sky a flushed pink. Eddie attempts to talk some sense into himself. As difficult as it is, he takes on the responsibility of notifying your friends and family by phone call. Of the many, one call goes out to Robin.

As soon as she’s able, Robin arrives to provide Eddie with the emotional support he desperately needs. Few words are exchanged as Eddie drifts in and out of crying fits. She sits beside him and strokes his back reassuringly while he hiccups and coughs.

Robin hasn’t witnessed Eddie this perturbed before. It’s evident to her how sincerely in love he continues to be with you even though he neglected to express that when it mattered most.

A twister of bleak thoughts rips through Eddie’s mind, turning his mental state to rubble. It’s hard to process each emotion individually when they’re all equally loud. At this point, all he can think about is the little things that he may never get to do again. One particular memory stands out from the rest.

In the moments after Eddie made love to you for the first time, you laid in his bed on your stomach; naked, drowsy, and utterly satisfied. You looked ethereal to him. Eddie traced the contour of your spine with the tips of his fingers while you slept. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear to admire your sleepily blissed-out expression. Thereupon, Eddie knew that you were the most important aspect of his life and that wouldn’t change.

As much as she'd like to, Robin can't stay all night. After sacrificing her evening to console him, she has to go home. Which leaves Eddie by his lonesome once again. It’s a rough night but somehow he manages to catch some shut eye.

Come morning, the staff still won’t allow Eddie to visit you. He rings Robin and Wayne to update them when he receives the slightest bit of information. There’s no regression in your condition, but that offers little relief.

In the following days, Eddie camps out in the waiting room. Forfeiting his comfort for the sake of being there for you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he wasn’t there in the event that you needed him. After four days drag by, you’re finally capable of breathing without the assistance of the mechanical ventilator.

“Mr. Munson, would you like to see her now?” A nurse asks.

Eddie’s eyes widen with the desperate nod of his head. “Fucking finally.” He murmurs to himself.

Now that you’re no longer in critical condition, you’ve been situated in a room outside of the ICU. The nurse leads Eddie to the room and he hesitates outside the doorway. Up until now, he wanted to see you more than anything. But now that he can, he’s petrified. Taking the deepest breath he’s ever taken, he enters.

The blunt discomfort in his ribs is alleviated by how pretty you look. You’ve been cleaned up, which makes you appear less mangled than you did when he saw you last. Eddie's movement resembles a shuffle and his eyes switch between your face and his dirty sneakers. As if trying not to startle you, he carefully pulls up a seat at your bedside to absorb his new reality.

The steady beep of the heart rate monitor brings consolation because it reminds him that you are in fact still alive. Your unmoving hand is gently taken into his trembling palm. Eddie handles it delicately, knowing how fragile you must be.

He contemplates in silence, unsure if you would even be able to hear him if he did talk. Surely, you must be in there somewhere. In a circumstance like this, what would be the right thing for him to say?

The pad of Eddie’s thumb strokes your knuckles with a featherlight touch and his burnt caramel irises are downcast in chagrin. He can’t bring himself to look at you for very long, feeling that he doesn’t deserve to because he hurt you.

With his gaze remaining fixed downward, his other senses heighten in the hopes of detecting a subtle twitch or quiver. Any kind of indication that you know he’s there and that he promises to be by your side for as long as he lives.

Your motionlessness is killing him, but you look agonizingly peaceful. Beneath the plum-colored bruises, stitches, and scabs, you’re still the beautiful girl he treasures. Eddie whispers, “my sweet angel,” as he places a kiss on the back of your hand.

The tears that run astray trickle down his cheeks, each salty droplet holding a memory. Eddie isn’t ready for you to become a real angel. If you do, he’ll spend the rest of his life searching for white feathers and shapes in the clouds. Eddie will endlessly scour for signs that you’re watching over him.

Thirty minutes pass before he finally garners the courage to speak. “I don’t really know where to start, this feels kinda silly. But first and foremost, I owe you an apology.” Eddie tries to swallow the stale air that's making his throat feel brittle. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I know that probably doesn’t mean shit. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself, so I don’t expect you to.”

With his free hand, Eddie wipes his cheeks with the hem of his shirt. “If I’m being honest, I’m fucking terrified that you aren’t gonna wake up. I miss you so god damn much. I can’t imagine how tired you are, and if you wanna let go… It’s okay.”

Eddie can feel pressure building behind his eyes as the tears threaten to fall faster. He blinks them away and tries to stay focused. “But I want you to stay, baby. I’m not done being selfish yet, I need you to come back to me. Please come back. I promise I'll treat you better this time.”

It feels like he’s on a bullet train, the outside world soaring by at lightning speed while the hospital room is eerily stationary. “I swear to god, I’ll never make you feel alone like that again. No more broken promises either.” Eddie hooks his pinky finger with yours, solidifying his word.

There’s a knock at the door and Eddie peers over his shoulder. A nurse enters with a full rally bag and a roll of bandages. "You'll need to step out for a moment."

Eddie is unwilling to leave your side, but he knows he shouldn’t interfere. When he rises from his seat, he gives your hand a brief kiss. Eddie glances behind him before leaving and thinks as if saying to you, “I’ll be right back, princess. Don’t be scared.”

As the nurse is refreshing your bandages, Eddie wanders until he happens upon the gift shop. He purchases a wimpy bouquet with the pocket change he has on him. When he’s allowed to return to your room, he places the vase on the utility cart beside the bed. Even though you’re unable to see them, Eddie tells himself that you like them.

From thereon, Eddie never leaves your side. He doesn’t care about the awful nicotine withdrawal or how much he misses his mattress, there’s not a chance in hell that he’s going to be separated from you longer than absolutely necessary. Your hand never leaves his for as long as he's sitting at your bedside.

The staff takes pity on him and brings him ham and cheese sandwiches. Eddie struggles to eat one-handed but he makes it work. He wonders if you’re hungry, considering you’re surviving off of IV mixtures. He misses eating junk food with you and licking the cheese dust off of your fingers on movie nights.

Eddie’s sanity gradually slips due to being confined to the small room, but having visitors is keeping him relatively sane. Over the remainder of the week, the atmosphere vibrantly evolves. The gifts from Wayne, the Hellfire Club members, and your family bring a spiritedness similar to that of a blooming field of spring flowers. Themed balloons, greeting cards, and assorted floral arrangements line the windowsill.

Robin buys you a stuffed monkey that she names Bananas and it stays tucked under your arm. She stops in every other day, usually bringing Eddie clean clothes from home. Robin keeps you company while he takes brisk showers in the private bathroom. She even brings nail polish and paints your fingernails your favorite color.

Eddie wishes you could see how incredibly loved you are. In part, he's glad that you’re not awake because you don’t have to bear the damage your body has endured.

His thoughts continue to consume him. Eddie incessantly scolds himself for having ruined the best thing that's ever happened to him. He feels wholly responsible for you being in this state. If he hadn’t fucked up, there wouldn’t have been a fight, and you wouldn’t have left.

Eddie is slouched in the same uncomfortable chair that he’s been glued to for two weeks. He’s currently zoned out while mindlessly drawing shapes on your wrist. His eyes are fixed on the western program playing on the outdated television across the room. Eddie is pulled back to reality by the twitch of your fingers in his grasp.

His heart leaps in his chest and his eyes switch to where his hand is joined with yours. Eddie holds his breath, sits up straight, and stares intensely. He’s convinced that he’s just imagining things until there’s another twitch. And another.

Eddie’s eyes dart between your hand and your face, whispering “C’mon, baby. You can do it.”

Your eyelashes flutter as your lids steadily retract, though they don’t open very much. It’s like the storm is dispersing and the sky is pulling itself together as you come to.

Eddie is elated, to say the least. He tries to stay calm because the last thing he wants is for you to be frightened.

“There’s my girl,” He says softly while stroking your arm. Tears of pure joy roll off his cheeks. “Hi, sweetheart.” Eddie sniffles, “I really missed you.”

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

★Ko-fi ♡

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heich0e · 11 months

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the wake - miya osamu/f!reader (haikyuu!) part 8 in the bff!osamu series word count: 2.5k tags: angst, childhood friends to pining, every miya fic i write is just a thinly veiled love letter to the miya brotherhood and that is very clear here, angst gets worse before it gets better so be nice to me, ps: u ever heard the song vienna by billy joel?

The longest that you have ever gone without speaking to the Miya twins was thirteen calendar days—a single day shy of a fortnight—when the three of you were eleven years old.

It all happened because you’d invited the twins over to see the brand new lava lamp you’d gotten for your birthday—the one you had been longing for relentlessly, and talked about incessantly in the lead-up to your big day—and, well, one thing led to another (as it often has the tendency to do when Osamu and Atsumu are involved) and the beloved lamp had ended up shattered across your bedroom floor only a few hours after you’d torn it from its pretty purple wrapping paper.

Neither of the boys had been willing to take responsibility at the time, each pointing an identically vehement finger of blame towards the other, and they both refused to offer you anything remotely close to an apology—lest that somehow imply an admission of culpability.

Your mother had sent them home after a stern, disappointed talking to and a call to their own mother (which she then echoed in a far less civilized tone when they returned home to her) and then they didn’t hear from you for almost two full weeks. It felt like an eternity back then, when life was small and days were long and just a couple of hours felt like a lifetime. You refused to come to your door when the two of them showed up knocking, didn’t answer any phone calls or instant messages they sent, and outrightly ignored them at school each day—hiding in classrooms on breaks between classes or behind the backs of other girls to avoid the increasingly desperate attempts of the twins to get your attention.

And so, on the two week anniversary of The Incident, the twins showed up at your door one last time—sheepish but earnestly remorseful—with a new lava lamp in tow. Thus the silent treatment was ended, reconciliation was struck, and there has scarcely been a day that passed since then where you had not been in some form of contact with the twins.

Osamu hasn’t heard from you in 6 weeks.

After the night of Atsumu’s party, he’d waited with bated breath to hear from you. His phone was on, sound at full blast and never too far from his reach. He knew it wasn’t really his place to reach out first. Knew you probably needed time to process things. To forgive him.

That first night he’d barely slept a wink, staring up at the ceiling of his living room, sprawled across the couch the two of you should have been sleeping on together, regretting every single moment of his life that had led him to this misery. He had texted you a simple: Let me know when you’re home safe please. It was a message he’d sent you countless times before, but never with so much urgency—but it went unanswered. It didn’t surprise him, even if it hurt. Even if it only added to the twist of anxiety turning his stomach into knots. More time passed. Seconds bleeding into minutes that turned into hours, each more agonizing than the last. He thought about calling you. Texting you again. Pulling on a jacket and chasing after you like he should have when you walked away from him hours prior. But he didn’t.

Osamu texted Atsumu first thing the next morning, with bags under his eyes and exhaustion in the marrow of his bones, asking if you’d made it back to the party safely. He’d wanted to reach out sooner—he’d had an entire sleepless night to think about nothing else, after all—but he’d waited for the sake of saving face with his twin.

When Atsumu finally woke up and saw his message, replying back with a frightening ??? didn’t she leave with u?, Osamu’s worst fears were realized.

After hearing from his brother, Osamu immediately texted your roommate—a girl you’d gone to college with, who might even have been considered your best friend had the twins not beaten her to the punch by about two decades. She and Osamu had always been on good terms, seeing each other semi-regularly over the years by virtue of their shared connection to you. You’d even once implied she had a little crush on him after Osamu had met her for the first time, though he had (for obvious reasons) never acted on the information. He felt no hesitation reaching out to her about whether or not you’d made it home the night before.

Yes.

Her icy reply came through almost immediately—even though it was early in the morning, even though he rarely ever texted her. The message was just three letters and a full stop, but it told him everything he needed to know: you were safe, and she knew what he’d done.

Osamu knew that the very least that he could give you in this situation was space, and he really did try, but he only made it two days of silence before he was reaching out to you again. His text had gone unanswered on that horrible, sleepless night where he had ruined everything, so after two days he finally tried to call.

It went right to voicemail.

His subsequent texts (and eventually calls) over the following days were similarly ignored, and every day that passed without hearing from you felt worse than the last.

Atsumu’s concern took root the day following his party, thanks to his brother's early morning text, and it only continued to grow. You were ignoring him too, the reason for which he had not the faintest idea, and the blonde inundated his twin for details as to what exactly had happened when the two of you had left his apartment that night.

But Osamu couldn’t tell him.

He couldn’t.

So he started avoiding his brother's calls and texts, too.

Osamu’s feelings for you were the only thing he’d ever, ever kept from his twin in all of their shared lifetime. And look where it had gotten him.

But eventually—inevitably—Osamu finally broke.

It was to be expected, really. He was hardly eating, scarcely sleeping, and any hours not spent robotically going through motions of keeping his business running were spent holed up in his little apartment. The apartment that now somehow reminded him far too much of you—like you had inked yourself as indelibly into the walls as you had the paint that you helped him apply when he'd first moved in.

Osamu showed up at his brother’s place at 11 o’clock on an otherwise completely unremarkable Wednesday night, still in his Onigiri Miya uniform, and as soon as Atsumu opened the door he burst—violently, spectacularly—into tears before he could even manage a greeting.

It must have been shocking, frightening even, for Atsumu to see his twin in that state. For him to have to help his brother’s crumpled frame across the threshold, over the step in the genkan, and to the couch in his living room—supporting the entirety of his weight to keep him upright. Atsumu had shown up a hundred times at Osamu’s door in not dissimilar states of heartbreak, but that was the first time he’d ever seen his twin—largely credited as the level-headed, rational one between them—like this. He’d always thought Osamu was just stronger than he was when it came to heartbreak; his relationships fizzling out with relatively little fanfare, and no substantial distress, and his exes sort of just faded into the background like they’d never even been there at all.

Atsumu never realized it was because his brother’s heart had never been theirs to break in the first place.

Osamu came clean that night in his brother’s apartment. Confessed to the sins he’d kept locked away in the recesses of his chest for so long, more fully and unequivocally than he had ever voiced the long-held secrets to anyone. And Atsumu listened. He didn’t tease him for his tears. Or berate him for keeping his feelings from him. Or yell at him for harming you and jeopardizing the friendship that the three of you had spent so much of your lives building.

He just hugged him. Comforted him. Cried with him. Because that was what his brother needed from him more than anything else.

When Osamu calmed slightly, many hours later, Atsumu quietly admitted that he’d suspected there may have been feelings that his brother was harbouring but he’d never really known for sure. I figured ya’d tell me when you were ready. Those were the simple words he’d offered, with a little shrug and a gentle, wobbly smile. And it was the first time in all his life that Osamu realized that his brother had far more tact than he’d ever given him credit for.

Atsumu reached out to you again that night, though his messages to you for the past week had gone unanswered like his brother’s. He put his message simply. He told you that he knew what had happened. That he wanted to talk. That you were his best friend and he needed to see you.

The twins were laying side by side in Atsumu’s bed, neither asleep nor fully awake, when your reply came through.

I need some time, Tsumu.

The brothers shared a look across the mattress of Atsumu’s bed in the dim light of his bedroom, their eyes sore for crying and the harsh glare of the cellphone’s light.

They yielded.

A few day later, you finally reached out again, and agreed to meet Atsumu for dinner.

Just Atsumu.

The evening that Osamu knew the two of you were meeting without him, he was a mess. He burned half the food he tried to prepare at the restaurant, got a nasty cut on his finger when he was chopping carelessly, and almost charged a customer 250,000 yen for their 250 yen purchase. When the restaurant finally closed, he slumped over the counter with his head in his hands and waited.

Atsumu showed up not long after.

“It was weird," his brother confessed, fiddling with an edamame pod but never moving to bring it to his lips—curled down slightly as the corner as he spoke. "But I can’t go between the two of ya like this, and she can’t see me without thinking of you."

“She hates me,” Osamu rasped, a familiar, suffocating tightness swelling in his chest that had made a home there over the past two weeks.

“She’s just upset,” Atsumu tried to console him, but Osamu could hear the wisp of frustration creeping into his twin’s tone. It wasn’t Atsumu’s fault—Osamu knew how hard this entire situation must have been for him, all as a result of the circumstances for which only he could bear the burden of blame. You’re Atsumu’s closest friend too, as much a part of the elder Miya twin’s life as you are the younger's, and Osamu didn’t take that fact for granted. Atsumu shut his eyes, sighing. “I think she’s confused, Samu. Hell, I’m confused and we shared a womb.”

Osamu’s eyes began to burn with a familiar, unpleasant prickle. He didn’t cry much about it anymore, now two weeks on, like he’d somehow run the well dry. But he’d occasionally get phantom pains behind his eyes, like the precursor to tears he knew couldn’t come. It was almost worse.

“I know,” the dark-haired twin finally muttered, his head hanging dejectedly.

“We’re gonna figure this shit out, but she’s gotta take some time to get things straight in her head first, alright?” Atsumu said softly, nudging his brother’s hand with his own, lending him encouragement in the warmth of their knuckles meeting. “Just give her that.”

So he did.

Osamu gave you another full month of time.

Of space.

Of absence.

And now he’s here, six weeks to the day since everything went wrong.

Osamu drives home to Hyogo on a whim—the idea of spending another weekend holed up in his apartment, wondering each day if it would finally be the one where you call, is enough to make him feel sick. His apartment has never felt more suffocating than it has in your absence. Never felt smaller than it does without you in it, no matter how contradictory that sounds. It’s been a while since he went home to visit his mother and the boys from high school who stuck around into adulthood, and even though his childhood home is as rife with things that remind him of you as his current one, he can’t help but hope that the change of scenery might do him some good.

The Miya family home hasn’t changed much, if at all, since the twins were kids. As an adult, Osamu takes comfort from this fact—finds stability and familiarity in the walls and windows and roof that endure today in just the same way and in the same shape as they always have. His mother’s car isn’t in the driveway when he pulls in to complete the picture, but he hadn’t told her he was coming so he can’t blame her for not being there to welcome him.

Osamu grabs his hastily packed duffle bag from the passenger’s seat of his truck, walking up the stone pathway his feet have trod upon so many times, in all their different sizes, to the door. He keeps his mother’s house key on his own keyring, because the last thing she’d said to him the day that he’d moved out—her hands, smaller than his own now that he’d grown so big, clasped around his as they held the little silver key—was that no matter what this would always be his home.

The genkan is the same. The coats in the closet are the same. The air smells the same, though there’s the faintest whisper of citrus in it as Osamu closes the front door behind him and toes off his shoes. His mother keeps two pairs of slippers at the door for him and Atsumu when they visit but his are missing for some reason, so he stuffs his feet into his brother’s designated pair before he pads off further into the home.

He can hear the television—the faint hum of a variety show or something similar drifting through the halls—and he laughs to himself that his mother has never quite been able to correct her bad habit of leaving the TV on even when she’s not watching it. He turns the corner into the living room, the sound of the television having grown louder the nearer he got.

And then he freezes.

The duffle bag he’d held loosely in his hand falls gracelessly to the floor.

And even though the television is right there, he can’t hear it anymore.

Because between him and the LCD screen, tucked under the kotatsu with a satsuma poised in hand half-peeled, is a face he hasn’t seen in six long weeks.

There, in the heart of the place that would always be his home, is you.

#osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu #hq drabble #hq writing #writing #bff!osamu #WE'RE BACK BABY

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the-crimson · 5 months

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Why does it feel like we in the q!bbh fandom are constantly defending q!bbh from people who hate his character for no reason.

I say no reason because a majority of the time people make things up whole sale to get mad about or take the smallest action completely out of context to get mad about it. There are legitimate things about q!bbh that I can see turning people off from his character but those things are almost never part of the discourse.

It’s always: q!bbh doesn’t care about the eggs, q!bbh is the most evil person on the island and should be killed repeatedly, he and Leo have no relationship and she would dislike him, Dapper’s deserves a father that actually cares for him, etc etc etc

It’s honestly exhausting because all of these things are blatantly untrue and I have no idea how anyone could come to these conclusions even if they never watch a second of bbh. Q!bbb is the sole reasons no egg has died of neglect since Trump. Q!bbh is the sole reason many of the eggs have maxed out armor, auto feed set up so they are always at max health, and an XP backpack with hundreds of XP. Q!bbh is constantly going out of his way to help others the moment they ask regardless of his own plans.

There is a REASON q!bbh is the only character on quesadilla island with access to every egg’s safe room in and out of the Ninho. Q!bbh is the only character on the server who has an actual relationship with every single egg that goes beyond acquaintances. Ramon is Dapper’s bff and constantly hangs out with bbh and Dapper. Bbh has done Leo’s tasks more times than I can count and her last words before being kidnapped were “I love you”. Bbh has taken care of Tallulah and Chayanne too many time to count. It was only after talking to bbh about how she feels guilty about feeling like Philza is more her father than Wilbur that Tallulah asked Philza to adopt her. Pomme is literally his daughter. Richas has spent countless nights hanging out with bbh and Dapper (and Pomme) after his parents logged off. Bbh would literally burn the world for Dapper in a heart beat.

When bbh learned no other egg made it off the island in purgatory, he spent the last 15 minutes of his stream muted because he was crying irl. Q!bbh was literally killing himself after the eggs were kidnapped and is basically a walking corpse rn with a gapping hole in his head that’s been there for two months. He’s been having memory problems for over a month - this development with his short term memory loss is a natural progression of his preexisting condition!

PEOPLE PLEASE criticize his character for things he actually does. You don’t have to like every character - q!bbh is an annoying little menace! But don’t make shit up to get mad about I’m begging.

If you don’t like a character, then ignore them. There are several character on the qsmp that I absolutely despise and get annoyed when every they show up on stream but I doubt anyone following me could tell me which characters those are because I never talk about it! Especially not in the main tag! I think through purgatory - when my frustration was at its highest - I mentioned one of these characters once in the tags of a reblog.

Tldr: if you don’t like a character, ignore them. Don’t make shit up about them to get mad at. You’re just making urself look like an idiot and an asshole.

#qsmp #discourse #fandom critical #I’m so tired of this fandom #I never even look in the main tag anymore #I havent for months #but I still can’t escape the shitty discourse #I’m so tired #somehow stealing furniture is a worse crime than systematically murdering innocent workers #I will never understand why people are so passionate about hating q!bbh

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wildglitch · 3 months

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Spider-man x Batfam Prompt's

Ok so lately I have seen a lot of "Spidy goes to gotham and gets adopted fics" probably cause of Dark Matter by mysterycyclone cause like, duh, that fic is a goddamn masterpiece. But I feel like a lot of them are sort of the same thing with diffrent fonts ans it feels a bit saturated. Not all of them...but most of them.

Am I saying that there needs to be less of these fics? Hell no! Keep writing them please. I just feel like there could be more variety is all.

I suggest maybe try one of these ideas out

1: Peter going straight to the Batfam or other heros (dosent always have to be Batfam) and they try to work together on how to get him home, while slowly realizing "omg, your life is terrible! We want to help you, we do, but maybe we shouldnt and try to give you a better life here. Then its just a moral delema on what to do as they get to know the spider child.

2: maybe another Spider-man is the one that goes to Hotham like Andrew or Toby. Insted of being sent home at the end of NWH, they where accidentally sent to the DCU. Or maybe one of the Spider verse characters or a cartoon version of the character. Dosent always need to be Toms Spider-man.

3: on that same note. Please give more love to What If...Zombies Peter. You guys have no Idea the amount of angst and "haha, my world ended and im fine" potental there is. And you can have the other surviving member also be there as they look for eachother (characters that "survived* (no one survived that episode) are Peter, King T'challa, Scott Lang+cape, and Ig Bruce Baner/Hulk, and Bucky Barnes since we never saw them get turned or eaten) just think about Spidey and the Batfam investigating a lab or sometbing and all of a sudden they find floating head Scott in a crate. Everyone if scared shitless while Peter is crying tires of joy as he moves to hug the floating head. Think about that and tell me Im not on to something here.

4: Have the fic start our like halfway through. Maybe skip him getting to Gotham and have him be there for a few months already or something. This will help with adding more crack fics.

5: Maybe have the fic be that Peter is there for a while, he knows everyone, they know him, they might or might not know the identitys but they trust eachother. And Peter has been looking for a way home and he finally finds it! But... he accidentally brings some of the Batfam with him. So now its the Batfams turn to learn to live in the MCU with help of Spidy and they finally understand so much about him, how he lived, and vigilanties he knows (team red!) As they learn the history and pubilc opinion or Spider-man and the world.

6: Just a react to fic. Yk, those fics where they're stuffed in a room and forced to watch something? Yeah. Have the Dark Matter cast stuffed in a room and watch some MCU clips. It dosent even have to be some magic forth wall bull shit if you dont like that. In chapter 44, Peter and co. are said to be going back to the cave, and Peter still have is suit. Canonically, Karen records everything. Maybe Peter ends up so tired he dosent even want to try to explain everything. So he just hooks up Karen to the computer and and has her show them everything from the suits recordings to security cameras and news reports, to the memes and videos spiderman fans have made.

7: have the Justice League get involed cause "Hes to bright to be one of yours Bruce!" And have him be a honorary member of the league of have them put him on Young Justice. Peter gets adopted by Batfam? Yes. Peter becomeing Bffs with the Young Justice kids and actually forming normal relationships with kids his age? Also yes.

Do I have more? Probably but Im too lazy for it rn

If you for some reason use one of my ideas, pls tag me and maybe credit me for the original idea (but I mostly want to be able to find the fic if you do make it ( o_o) )

Who knows, I might just write some of these myself if I ever get the motivation lol

#writing prompt #fanfic writers #fanfic #spider man #batfam #marvel mcu #mcu #dcu #dc universe #peter parker #dark matter #crossover #crossover fic #fic ideas #please #I have had some on these ideas in my head for so long now TvT #send asks

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magicalblgirl · 8 months

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Ayo, so I see people are interested with the TianShan fic I was looking for. Anyway, I got some insanely good recommendations for all of you. There's some amazing story telling and plot going on here so bear with me...

I LOVE THIS FIC TO BITS! 🤧 I would coddle it if it was my child. He Tian is a brat but Momo would not budge, he's just as determined and won't back down. A glorified babysitter to an overgrown man child (please I love the jabs here 😝). Momo just wants to do his job but He Tian's stubborness is getting in the way *cough cough*. Also, there's violence, guns and knives. Read HERE

THIS, I love this so much 😭. Somewhat dark and violent in the beginning. Come on, He Tian beat Momo up in place of Jian Yi. But Momo is strong in his own right and it left He Tian puzzled. Momo and Jian Yi are like bffs here. He Tian and Zhang Zhen Xi are friends/mafia bros. Read HERE

This is friggin PAINFUL. Like angsty, violent, heart-wrenching, punch in the gut painful. BUT it is also one of the most AMAZING fics I've read. 🤕⚠️ LIKE YOU JUST WANT THEM TO BE TOGETHER BUT WTF. Mo got trust issues, He Tian got a truck load of em. It's bloody and kinda graphic especially what happened to Momo (nothing too gory tho imo, okay but some parts are kskskskdjd but for me they are bearable) so reader discretion, check the tags. Read HERE

This is ongoing so I am thankful for the author for updating it on New Year's eve 🎆. A friggin emotional roller coaster. I love to suffer, kick me in th b4lls with the angst but I also like the moments of vulnerability. Like for the emotionally constipated people like me, this fic is GOLD. And yeah.. SMüT (almost in every chapter 😏). Read HERE

Anyways...

Look at the update date. Look at me. Did I tell y'all it's UNFINISHED fics?? Cuz if I suffer, you suffer with me 😝 Also, I've read almost all TianShan fics in AO3 except those less than 1500 words lol. I prefer longer fics 5-10k and above, if there's a 100k completed fic I will errect a statue in your honor.

Anyways, if you read it, show the author some love or leave a kudos.

#tianshan #mo guan shan #he tian #he tian x mo guan shan #19 days #19days #old xian #old先

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thefrontofmymind · 7 months

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could you do another musician ig blurb thingy with Suki Waterhouse as the fc?? i love these things so much

rockstar girlfriend!reader x matty healy instagram blurb

FC: Suki Waterhouse

yninstagram look hot, feel hot. thanks seattle.

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ynfan1 already got post-concert depression

trumanblack you’re right.

>yninstagram i know <33

ynfan2 she’s so ethereal omg

ynfan3 only 3 more days until my showwwww

yninstagram san francisco, you were lush.

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charli_xcx how is my bff so hot

>yninstagram no, you!

ynfan1 I LOVE YOUUUU

ynfan2 i cried so hard

trumanblack fit

yninstagram I love you, San Jose. Unfortunately you were upstaged just a little by a surprise backstage…

TAGGED: trumanblack

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ynfan1 omg im dying she’s so hot

ynfan2 OH MY GOD WAS MATTY AT MY SHOW???

yninstagram when in doubt, boyfriend’s shirt

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ynfan1 i hope matty knows how lucky he is

trumanblack oh thats where that shirt went

>yninstagram sorryyyyy

ynfan2 omg yn in matty cosplay

ynfan3 style icon of our generation

yninstagram cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eyeeeeeeeee

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ynfan1 yn on 1989tv WHEN???

ynfan2 omg im obsessed with this look

charli_xcx queen

>yninstagram love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

yninstagram The Troubadour. I’m so thankful for everyone that helped me get to perform at my dream venue. I love you all.

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ynfan1 shut up im crying rn

ynfan2 im so obsessed with that top but i KNOW it’ll be like thousands of dollars

ynfan3 how can someone look so beautiful???

trumanblack very proud. Xx

yninstagram San Diegooooo!!! Thank you for having me!!

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ynfan1 I WAS THEREEEEE

ynfan2 please come to italy!!!

~~~

yninstagram via instagram stories:

Caption: miss u

~~~

ynupdates YN and Charli XCX at an event for New York Fashion Week

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yn1975fan1 omg the 1975 WAGs out in full force

ynfan1 idk if i wanna be them or date them

1975fan1 matty and george better learn to fight because I AM COMING FOR THEM

~~~

trumanblack via instagram stories:

Caption: my girl is hotter than yours

#matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy imagine #matty healy fic

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ihni · 4 months

Text

My 2023 in fics

Tagged by @billyharringson, thank you, this was a lot of fun!

January: Hot and Cold (or How To Serve Revenge) - a fic I wrote in January (but posted in February, schhhh). Got challenged by @callieb to write hurt/no comfort, and I have it on good authority that I succeeded ... (it has spawned no less than two fix-its and one more continuation by other people so far, which I am awfully pleased about actually)

February: Again and again and again and again, a time loop fic that I love, and would like to read like 80K about. ... yes, read. I don't have time to write more on it now. But I had so much fun writing this, and it is one of my favorite kinds of fics; a short one with potential.

March: March was busy. There was Billy's Birthday Bonanza, and also I wrote for the Billy Hargrove Bingo. I posted a lot of fics then, most of them short. So I'm gonna link two, because I can (and no one told me any rules for this tagging game); Boys, Beards and Best Friends, because it was so much fun writing Billy and Heather being BFFs and also the boys being set up, and then Over the edge, which is one of my favorites, because it was so goddamn fun to write! (Murder mystery prank going wrong, muahahaaa! Don't worry though, no one dies for real.)

April: A piece of meaning on your skin, a little fic I wrote for the Harringrove Flip Reverse It event, about the boys choosing tattoos for each other as a part of a bet. I still think it's cute.

May: I like Flo, okay, and like to incorporate her into fics. In Patience, I wrote about her first impressions of Billy, for the Billy Hargrove Bingo.

June-July: Posted in June, finished posting in July (but written on and off over the course of several years previous ...), Taking Notes is my longest fanfic yet at about 93K. And, listen, I love it. It's a body swap fic, where the boys swap bodies. And then again. And again. Etc. I am so proud of this one, actually.

August: Posted Pal, which is 17K of Billy befriending a stray demodog. I 100% believe Billy would like animals better than most humans, and this fic is basically him being a bit dumb but also a good friend to Pal, the demodog. And then them going into protective mode for each other. I am soft for this one, still.

September: I'm picking a short one that I first posted on tumblr and then onto AO3; Seagulls. It's ... well, it's sad in a way, in that it takes place when Billy's dying at the mall, but it's also comforting in a way, because he gets to leave all that bullshit behind and is greeted by his mom again.

October: Picking Just another night at Motel 6 on Cornwallis, because Billy deserves to get to tell Karen no, and Karen deserves to be shamed for what she did (yes, in this fic she showed up). It was immensely satisfying to write.

November: I didn't get much posted in November (because NaNo), but I did get chapter 3 of Finding Billy posted (it's a finished fic now, though, don't worry). It's a whumpy fic I had to write after a couple of chats with friends, about Billy being held with the Lab people after the whole Starcourt thing, and then Steve and Max and Hop finding out and getting him out of there. Poor boy's been through a lot in this one - but things are getting better, promise!

December: Started posting Home is where the knitted mittens are, which is my latest fic. No ships, no romance. Just Billy finding out he's a werewolf and having to deal with that in Hawkins, Indiana, without much of a safety net. Listen, I'm weak for werewolf Billy, okay? And I made up some werewolf lore in this one which is a mix of all the things I like. (It was literally a reason for me to get to write something "nesting"-adjacent, without having to go into A/B/O-territory.) Definitely written mostly for myself, and I love it dearly. (Featuring werewolf!Scott Clarke too, because why not right??)

Huh, I never thought I'd had enough to fill a whole year's worth, but look at that! I'm proud of myself for this :)

Tagging @callieb (yes, individual chapters work!), @weird-an and @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet if you guys wanna do it as well :) (And YOU, reading this, if you wanna do it! Consider yourself tagged if you're reading this and think it looks fun - because it IS)

#tagging games #ihni writes #fic recs

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illneverrecover · 8 months

Text

static voice pt 2 | kth (M)

➛pairing: Demon Taehyung x Fallen Angel Reader (ft. bff Angel Jin) ➛summary: It's been weeks since his healing, and yet you still have a lingering demon house guest - something your best friend isn't going to let you ignore. However, with more time that passes, you realize... do you even want him to leave? ➛genre: Angel/Demon!AU, fluff, humor, eventual smut ➛word count: 3741 ➛rating: 18+ for this installment, please check each part for rating as there will be smut ➛warnings: cursing, some quick descriptions of violence, some heavy petting. ➛notes: Demon Taehyung demanded a full story line, and here we are. Shout out to static voice anon who started this whole thing by sending a simple ask -- you have no idea how much your encouragement means! And as always, sending love to @allbutmemorywillfade who sent in the original prompt which lead to the creation of these sweet dinguses, and who has been nothing but supportive & kind. You're too good to me 🖤 This is rough edited and unbeta'd bc I have no patience whatsoever. ➛song: Mine - Sleep Token & I Can See You - Taylor Swift ➛tagging: @jimins-ass-eater, @quinnkoo, @thatlongspringnight

It’s Sunday morning, and there is currently a demon folding laundry on your bed.

Everything about that sentence should be blasphemous, and yet, it’s become normal. Well, normal for you. Certainly not normal for any other Fallen you’ve ever known.

Taehyung’s brow furrows as he concentrates, sorting the mass of clothes first into piles before making way to fold each piece. His hands are precise, fingers lining up each seam as he works, eyes only leaving his work to dart towards the TV playing something in the background. He liked having something on for noise, he had explained, and who were you to question someone willing to fold your clothes?

Jin would say that your use of that argument is what led to having a demon for a roommate in the first place, which is exactly why you keep these kinds of thoughts to yourself - you didn’t ask for that kind of negativity.

Not that there was any downside that you could see. Sure, you hadn’t asked Taehyung what his plan was yet, but you also hadn’t needed to. He was the epitome of a perfect house guest, slotting into your life easily and effortlessly. He was considerate, always offering to assist with any healings that he could; from triaging those who showed up at the door, to talking with them softly while you worked, easing their anxieties with a few kind words. And in those difficult sessions where there was nothing for him to do, he offered what he could - his presence, his reassurance.

It made you feel safe, knowing that he was on your side, no matter what you opened your door to.

“Does this need a hanger, or am I supposed to fold this?”

Taehyung holds the garment pinched between his fingers, eyes peering up to meet yours. It’s a black silky dress, mostly held together with string and a prayer, and you know for a fact it was something you hadn’t worn recently - let alone put in the wash.

Heat creeps up your neck, and you fight the embarrassing urge to rip the fabric out of his hands and throw it out the window. The demon blinks at you with wide blue eyes, and you wonder not for the first time if he’s fucking with you.

The other thing about Taehyung is that he’s impossible to read. His ability to go from the aloof affectionate demon who cuddles with your cat to the flirty winky man who drops innuendos in your kitchen leaves your head spinning. Worst of all - at least, to you - is that nothing has happened since that night at your place four weeks ago. Other than a few lingering glances that leave you questioning, Taehyung has made no more comments about his desires, which you try not to think about. Even if it’s driving you crazy.

“That needs a hanger - though I have no idea how that ended up with the laundry, I haven’t worn it in ages.”

It was something you had purchased on a spontaneous whim, back when you had first become Fallen. It had made you feel sexy, powerful; and you had nowhere to wear it, so it had lived its life mostly stuffed in the back of your closet.

“Oh, I put it there,” Taehyung says, nonchalantly, as if he’s discussing the weather. “I was going through your closet to see if there were some things you could donate to that shifter that you healed two nights ago and found it crumpled on the floor. It was too beautiful to leave in that condition.”

Fighting the urge to sigh, you instead fix him with a glare.

“Oh? So you were aware it needed a hanger,” you grumble, though there’s no heat in your tone. “And what am I supposed to do with it now? It’s not very practical to wear for healing,” scoffing, you nod towards the dress.

“I disagree,” Taehyung sniffs, placing the garment on the hanger before laying it down on the bed delicately, smoothing it over with a palm. “I think the sight of you in that dress could be healing in more ways than you could imagine.”

Suddenly, the air in the room was stifling and you forget how words work, instead just blankly staring at the demon on your bed. He looks up at you, the slightest hint of a smirk pulling at his lips, and before you can formulate a response, a loud sound interrupts from the other room.

“HEY! Lucky, you asshole, I’m trying to walk!” Jin yells, clearly fighting a battle with the cat in the foyer of the apartment. “Where is everyone, anyway?”

“In here!” you call out, moving to grab the dress off the bed and put it in the closet before the angel sees. You’re not sure why you feel the need to hide it from him, but the last thing you need is him doing something to embarrass you - especially after Taehyung managed to fluster you so thoroughly.

Jin bumps the door open with his hip, his arms full of plastic bags, various groceries sticking out of each. “These are the groceries I owe you after eating all your last ones,” he announces, eyes scanning the scene he’s walked into. “I want it to be known for the record.”

“Hi, Jin!” your demon roommate greets, moving to stand. “Want me to put these away for you? I was just finishing up laundry.”

Jin’s gaze slides over to you, and you do your best to ignore the pointed question he was daggering into your skull, instead answering for him. “That would be great, Tae. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, Tae,” Jin echos, sliding the bags easily into the blonde’s arms. “We’ll meet you out there in a second.”

You’re about to mouth off about how Jin isn’t your father and he doesn’t get to order anyone around, least of all you- but Taehyung is already acquiescing, leaving the bedroom with the soft click of the door.

“So, he folds your laundry for you now, too? What’s next, he gets your dry cleaning? On Wednesdays, are you going to drink wine and do face masks?”

Tsking, you cross your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jin. We both know I don’t have dry cleaning, and face masks are part of Smut and Skincare Sundays.”

This time, the angel doesn’t hide his annoyance in his glare.

“Come on, you know what I mean. I get why you haven’t kicked him out, but…” he sighs, plopping himself on the edge of your mattress. “What are you doing? What is he doing? What’s the end goal here?”

It’s what you’ve been asking yourself these last few weeks, and yet you’re no closer to coming to answer now than you were before. All you know is that you enjoy having him around, and something about the unreadable lanky demon being nearby gives you a sense of peace you haven’t felt since before becoming a Fallen. A feeling of comfort, of safety - and you’re terrified of losing it.

“I don’t know, Jin. I just know that I don’t mind having him around,” you avoid his eyes, instead rounding the bed to finish putting away the clothes. “It’s nice having help with the healings, especially with the late night calls. You know I don’t like being alone here.”

You leave the other piece unsaid - that you don’t like being alone, at all. That Taehyung’s warm, infectious laughter and mischievous charm added light back into your once dark, monotonous days. That it felt like he belonged there - but that you have no idea how he feels, at all.

The silence is heavy, as if Jin could read your mind, but if he does he doesn’t say anything, instead letting loose a breath. “Yeah, I know. I get it. I’m not trying to be a hard ass or anything, but I am trying to look out for you.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,”

“I know that, too.”

“At least promise me you’ll talk to him about what his plans are? If he intends on staying here indefinitely, or…” Jin pauses then, as if he doesn’t want to even go down the route. “Whatever. But promise me you’ll discuss it?”

He reaches out then, stopping you in your tracks until you meet his eyes. There’s no longer any annoyance there, just genuine concern, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel any more at ease.

“Yes, Dad,” you tease, shaking your hand free with a grin. “I promise I’ll talk to him. But it’s certainly not going to be in front of you, so it’ll have to wait for tonight.”

“Fair enough,” Jin moves to stand, reaching for your door. “Just make it soon, okay?”

He closes the door behind him, and you hear his voice joining Taehyung’s in the kitchen, giving you a moment to collect your thoughts. Why are you so scared to talk to Taehyung? It has nothing to do with his status as a demon, something you barely noticed outside of his beauty; you could tell he was a genuine being, regardless of his beginnings. And he’s easy enough to talk to, has been nothing but a perfect gentleman of a roommate.

It’s easy to tell yourself that it’s because it’ll be an awkward conversation, one that has the potential to make him feel awkward as well, something that you don’t want in the least. But if you’re honest - truly, deeply honest - it’s because you’re scared that he will leave, and you’re not sure that you want that at all, anymore.

Actually, you know you don’t want that anymore.

The answer seems simple enough, then - have the discussion, ask him to stay.

But why does the thought of asking him make you feel like you’re swallowing glass?

“You better come out here if you want to help pick dinner!” Jin yells, and shakes you from your thoughts.

Joining them in the kitchen, you see they made quick work of putting away the groceries, leaving the counters clear with the exception of a few paper take-out menus.

“Grocery shopping exhausts me,” Jin explains, nodding towards the array of menus. “It’s my treat, just let me know what sounds good and I’ll go pick it up. I promised Tae I’d stay for a movie.”

After settling on a local Thai place, Jin calls in the order before heading out, demanding that you both are on movie selection duty in his absence.

Plopping yourself onto the couch, Taehyung joins you, sitting side by side so close that your thighs are pressed together. Ignoring the building heat his proximity brings, you quickly grab the remote, scrolling through various streaming options trying to settle on something that you’d all like.

“Can I ask you a question?” Taehyung interrupts, voice low.

“Of course.”

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things were different?”

Tearing your eyes from the TV, you focus on his ethereal face illuminated in the flickering light of the screen, on the intensity in his eyes. He looks distant; his gaze still bright, but more serious than usual, more lost.

“What do you mean, Tae?”

He sighs, a mixture of resignation and something more. “I mean, what if I wasn’t a demon? What if I hadn’t been injured, or it had happened in another district with a different healer? What if you hadn’t Fallen? Would our paths still have crossed?”

His eyes are a bright cerulean blaze, more solemn than you’ve ever seen him before, and it has you frozen in place. It feels like he’s asking you something much bigger, much more vulnerable than he’s letting on, and it makes your throat tighten.

Meeting his stare, you reach for him, taking one of his hands into your own. “I believe that some connections are meant to happen, regardless of the circumstances,” you reply, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your tone. “We could have made different decisions, but ultimately, our souls found each other and brought us together.”

It’s then you realize just how close you are, how close his face is to your own, how his body is pressed up against every inch of your side. The intimacy of your words and your bodies has you feeling exposed, and yet you can’t seem to pull away.

Taehyung’s gaze meets yours, his eyes shimmering with emotion. “You really think that? That some connections are destined?”

“Of course I do,” you nod, and his answering smile is almost blinding. Sliding his hand away from yours, he instead launches into a hug, pulling you to his chest.

“Thank you for saying that. You really have a way with words, you know,” Taehyung murmurs, nuzzling his face into your neck. “You have no idea how much peace your presence brings me, Angel. It’s something that I thought I’d lost forever.”

His words have your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, your tongue thick with the things you want to say. You’re even more affirmed in your decision to ask him to stay, pulling out of his embrace to do just that, when a loud knock at the door startles you both.

“Hello? Is this where the Fallen healer lives?” a male voice calls out, one you don’t recognize. “Please, I just need some healing - are you home? Hello?”

Moving to open the door, you wait until you hear Taehyung follow in step behind you before answering. Leaving the chain lock in place, you open the door enough to peer into the hall. “Yes, how can I help?”

A demon stands there – the tiny horns barely visible in his dark hair – black like his wrinkled suit. He was dressed like he either just left some sleazy bar or was on the way to one, though based on the stale whisky scent emanating from him, you’d guess both.

He gives a low whistle, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Damn, they didn’t mention how pretty you are, just that you were the closest healer. If I wasn’t so hungover, I might try to shoot my shot, but at the present, I-”

“Nevermind, I’m not home,” you deadpan, moving to close the door, when the demon's foot stops it from shutting completely.

“Please, wait! I’m sorry, you’re right, that was rude of me–” he starts frantically, clearly not wanting you to leave. “Listen, I’m just really, painfully hungover, and I have a big meeting I have to get to with some guys that I do not want to piss off and I was hoping you could help me out a bit. I just need a little healing, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” His hands wring together, and you notice how much his teeth are working his bottom lip, the tinges of his fear evident despite his bravado.

Glaring at him, you sigh heavily before peering over your shoulder to lock eyes with Taehyung. If all he needed was a little hangover cure, it should be simple enough of a healing without taking too much of your energy, and then he could be on his way. Easy enough. When your demon gives you a reassuring nod, you turn back to the stranger.

“Fine, a quick healing, and then you leave me alone.”

“Yes, of course! Thank you, seriously,” he continues, pausing as you unlatch the chain and open the door to let him inside. “I really appreciate it.”

Standing in the entryway, it’s once he closes the door behind himself that the stranger finally notices Taehyung, eyes narrowing. “What’s another demon doing here?”

“He helps me,” you reply, giving the same simple answer you give anytime the question is asked by a creature looking for your services. At the end of the day, it’s none of their business who he is and why he is with you, and the less information given, the better. “We’ll do the healing down the hall.”

Moving to get your supplies, you go to show him to your workspace but he’s still paused, glaring at Taehyung.

“What, he helps you, you help him, that kinda thing?” he sneers, speaking to you but still only looking at Tae. “Can’t say I blame him, you really are a looker. I bet you’re really fun to play with.”

Temper snapping at his words, you spin on your heel to point to the door. “That’s it, you’re done. Get out.”

Before the demon can utter a reply, Taehyung is in his face, as if he was waiting for your unspoken signal to spring into action. Holding him in place with a fist in his suit jacket collar, he shakes the demon once, walking him backwards toward the door. “You heard her. Leave now, and do not return.”

“Come on! Can’t you take a little joke?” the asshole shouts, any pretense of niceties fully falling away. “It’s just a quick healing, you sensitive bitch!”

You can feel the change in the atmosphere when Taehyung tenses, his form seemingly trembling with restraint as his pupils blow out until his eyes are black. “You’re going to regret that,” he murmurs, a sinister smirk on his lips.

A bright light has you covering your eyes, slowly blinking until you can make out the form of Jin, his wings fully spread and an angelic dagger in tow. The Thai food was still in bags in his other hand, Jin clearly returning from his trip only to walk into a different kind of battle.

Dropping the bags by the door, he saunters into the room.

“He’s right, you will regret that,” Jin says, voice even, “but you’re going to have to deal with me now, instead.”

Plucking the demon out of Taehyung’s hold, Jin tugs him into a headlock, placing the blade at the bottom of his throat before turning toward the door. “Taehyung, why don’t you make sure our girl here is all taken care of while I take care of the trash, will you?”

He waits for Taehyung’s nod, and then Jin looks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you affirm, stepping closer to Taehyung.

“I’ll come check on you guys later.” He nods, and then he’s out the door, a bright light streaming through the cracks as it closes.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

Taehyung immediately springs into action, arms sliding around your shoulders as he guides you to the couch, draping a blanket around you once you settle. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, he continues his task, moving next into the kitchen to put the take out in the oven to keep warm before putting the kettle on for tea. Finally, he searches through the newly stocked pantry for a sugary snack, something that will appeal to your sweet tooth.

“What sounds better, sour gummy bears, or those nerd cluster things?”

“Sour gummy bears, please,”

Soon, the coffee table before you has a cup of hot honey lavender tea and a little bowl of sour gummies, and Taehyung is settling beside you, reaching for the remote to find something to put on TV. You feel cozy snuggled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you and your overly affectionate demon beside you, and it’s then that you realize just how comforted you really feel.

Effortlessly, without you realizing, Taehyung knew what to do to soothe you, knew the actions that would bring you peace after something stressful had happened. He didn’t need to be asked, or told – just sprang into action to support you, asking for nothing in return. There was only one other person who had done that for you, even before becoming Fallen, and that was Jin.

The thought has your heart thrumming in your chest.

Pressing play on some vampire show, he then leans back on the couch, pulling you with him until you’re resting cuddled into his chest. “Is this okay?” he asks, eyes questioning. “If it’s too much, I can go get some pillows instead.”

It’s his thoughtfulness that finally breaks you, has tears welling in your eyes as you stare into his depthless gaze. You can’t hold it back anymore, the question you were going to ask, and you blurt it out before you can doubt yourself.

“Taehyung, will you live with me?”

His eyes widen in surprise, and you feel your stomach drop, scrambling to explain. “I don’t know what your plans are, or how long you wanted to stay here… But I’ve come to realize that I really, really like having you around, and I don’t want you to go. So I wanted to ask, would you stay here with me?”

The surprise in his gaze fades, leaving behind wonderment, adoration.

“You want me to stay?”

Not trusting your voice, this time, you just nod, giving him a watery smile.

Taehyung scoops you up, practically pulling you into his lap and immediately wrapping you into a big hug, squeezing you so hard your lungs fight for air. “Yes! Yes, I’d love to stay with you.”

A deep chuckle reverberates in his chest, and you can’t help but join in, his laughter and joy infectious as he crushes you. “No one has ever asked me to stay before.”

You go to pull away, to move back to your spot on the couch and to continue this conversation, but Taehyung’s arms lock you in place, holding you to him.

Brow furrowing, you go to question him, but then his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is electric, sizzling down your spine and through your veins until you’re dizzy, until you’re consumed in nothing but the feeling of him and his mouth moving against yours. You’re drunk with it, on the precipice, and when his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, you let him tumble into your mouth, salvation be damned.

“Well, what do we have going on here?”

Jin's voice startles you both, interrupting the kiss. Breathing heavy, you go to slide off Taehyung’s lap, but he is having none of it; instead tucking you in closer and giving the angel a proud grin. Rolling your eyes, you stay put, working to get your heart back to a normal rate.

“I would say I’m surprised about the whole kissing thing, but I’m not,” he continues, moving fully into the living room to face you both. “However, could you tell me why in the hell you were both glowing?”

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #demon taehyung #demon au #taehyung scenario #bts fanfic #kth fics #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #my writing #fic: static voice pt 2 #fic: sv #overly affectionate demon

67 notes · View notes

japhan2024 · 5 months

Note

Hi there! It's me! 😅 Idk if you want to but, could you write some fluff Ianthony while they are writting the Food Battle script? Like they being cute and laughing and being dorks, some sweet shit like that? PLEASE 🙏🙏

Omg you give the cutest prompts, I'm MELTING. I will try my best!!!

Eye contact

Genre: fluff, angst

"Ian, we're so good together. We work. We... I want you to be happy, and stay happy, and I don't know how many times I have to say that I will stay with you forever, but I will say it as many times as it takes."

read on ao3

"The crinkles around Anthony's eyes when he smiles and laughs. His proud little smile when he talks about what they have accomplished together.

Ian looks sideways at him as they hold a Food Battle marathon at Ian's house. Lately, Ian allows himself to 'look' at his best friend more and more. It is hard not to stare, though. Because Anthony is beautiful. So unfairly beautiful. Being in his presence always excited Ian but he never dared to look at Anthony longer than a second.

But now, after everything that has happened... why not? Why not sneak a peek at that chiseled jaw, those inviting curls, and that olive skin, a mature version of his BFF he remembers from school. Ian catches himself sighing. And so does Anthony. As they lock eyes, Ian quickly looks away, smiling down into his lap.

"This scene is so dope, right," Anthony points at them on the screen.

"Yeah, you're right."

It's the next day. They're at Anthony's house to work on the new Food Battle script.

Anthony looks at Ian with soft, admiring eyes. He loves one thing most of all. Above anything in the world. And that is watching Ian's creative process at work.

"This is so dumb. But what if I just give her a comically large piece of chewed gum right out of my mouth?"

"Ew, that's so gross!! I love it."

Ian laughs. Not the reserved chuckle he gives other people. But the hearty, all-out goofy laugh he only shares with Anthony.

"So, the wife dies... Sorry feminism, but the twist is... YOU were the wife the whole ass time!!"

Anthony giggles. "That explains the seven-year pause so well, oh my god. But... If I'm your wife, how does sex work?"

Ian shrugged matter-of-factly. "Duct tape and an empty Gatorade bottle." He makes a plopping sound to match his zany ass explanation and sends Anthony into hysterical laughter.

"Fuck, we have to put this into the script! We might get demonetized, though."

"Hey, if we really cared about money, we would just steal TikTok videos and put them in compilations on YouTube for the rest of our lives."

"True. God, how I love this..." They smile at each other. God, Ian has such unnaturally light-blue eyes. Anthony notices that lately, Ian makes way more eye contact with him than before. Which is amazing, because he's always tried to get more out of him. More and deeper conversations. More emotion! But it seemed impossible.

At parties, Ian is outgoing, and Anthony gladly tags along. But when it's just the two of them, Ian likes to chill out with his thoughts. And that's fine with Anthony, but he can't help but want more. And now, since everything that happened, they finally talk. For hours!

"To think we both forget how great this is, writing together..." The sunlight that comes in from Anthony's window lights up Ian's eyes even more. Anthony wants to stare into them for all eternity. Those moments of direct eye contact send shivers down his spine, make all his hairs stand up and make him want to run some laps out of sheer excitement.

"Do you remember Star Stories?" Ian asks.

"Oh yeah, that shit was wild."

"Do you remember the George Michael one?"

They both laugh.

"Write about what you know, what you know, what you know..." Anthony mimics the old comedy show.

"There's this one bit," Ian says while laughing. Anthony loves it when Ian is so excited about something he already laughs at it before even telling Anthony.

"What?"

"It's when George Michael cries about his band mate leaving, and it's all dramatic, and then he's suddenly like, super unbothered and says "I'm over it." We should put that in. Like I'm crying about my wife for 1.5 seconds and then I'm like, okay let's do Food Battle, biiitch!"

"That's amazing."

"I know, I didn't come up with it."

"Shut up, you come up with brilliant stuff all the time."

"If you say so."

"Let's take a break," Anthony says.

They order some lunch and hang out on Anthony's balcony. They are drinking some flavored water.

"Any new dates?" Anthony asks suggestively.

"Nope." Ian doesn't elaborate.

"Ian, have you even tried?"

"I guess I haven't. But I'm really happy, Anthony. The right girl will come along, I'm sure."

"Or the right guy?" They never talk about Ian's bisexuality but Anthony wants to bring it up. He wants to know how he can help Ian get a date. Above everything, he wants to make Ian happy.

"Or the right guy, I guess. Or just a person in general. But boobs are a plus."

"Are you into man boobs as well?"

"Hell yeah! As long as I can suck on them... oh no, this is a terrible idea..."

Anthony's eyes light up. Ian's terrible ideas are genius 100% of the time.

"Ian, you must tell me..."

"One of the challenges should be a breast milk pump."

Anthony compulsively giggles through his words. "Oh my god! Ian, we can't show that on YouTube..."

"Can I at least suggest it? You'll say 'ew gross' and I will say, "Oh yeah, you're right... damn it!" And I'll look disappointed."

"We will work it in there somewhere."

Ian squints at Anthony. "Are you giving me more leeway because you're still cheesing about our reunion?"

"Maybe."

"You know you're playing with fire."

"Yeah, I know, hahaha."

"By the way, I'm still willing to burn Smosh to the ground with you."

"I think our fire will light up Smosh, warm the place up."

"With our looove," Ian says in his mocking voice.

Anthony kicks him fondly.

The bell rings: their lunch has arrived.

"I'll go get it," Anthony says, leaving Ian with his thoughts for the moment. He still can hardly believe how invigorating it is to work with his best friend again. It doesn't feel like work at all, they are just hanging out. This is them.

"Here is your gluten-free bagel," Anthony says with a tucked-in chin.

"Well have fun eating your vegan salad of misery," Ian counters.

"At least we are pretty and healthy!" Anthony uses his girly voice. He hasn't in quite a while.

"That voice takes me back."

Anthony laughs.

"For real though," Anthony continues in his normal voice, "you're becoming fitter by the day, the gluten-free diet is working, or are you also running again?"

"I'm hella running, dude. Every morning."

"That's awesome. I'm so happy for you, it used to be such a big part of who you were in high school."

"Yeah, it makes me feel so much better. And if I skip a day, I immediately feel worse. So it's kind of an addiction by now. Gotta go faaast!"

As they eat their lunch, a group of birds flies by. They are shimmering, bright green but their call sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

"Wow."

"Did you know birds have one hole for everything?" Ian suddenly says.

Anthony raises his eyebrows and snorts. "What?

"For everything." Ian looks him in the eye again. That sends Anthony and he doesn't recover from laughing until a few moments later, while Ian repeatedly says "It's called the cloaca, man, the cloaca!"

"Why are you so fucking funny, Ian. You're the funniest person I know. And that's saying something, with all our employees at Smosh."

"Aww, thanks Anthony! I think we just share a kind of humor. My jokes don't land like this at the office." He chuckles.

"Kids these days..." Anthony scoffs.

"Hey, come here, your hair is messed up. I'll fix it for you," Ian says suddenly and comes up to Anthony, closer than he expects. He puts the wayward curl that the wind has blown in Anthony's face, back on top of his head. "That's better. Now you can go back to being pretty again," Ian jokes.

"I love it when you do that kind of stuff," Anthony murmurs.

"What?"

"These little gestures of affection. I appreciate it so much."

Ian doesn't look him in the eye now. Anthony feels bad.

Because he knows.

He knows Ian likes him.

For all those years he's liked him. And he has sometimes taken advantage of that. Flirted with him so Ian would do work for him, that type of stuff. But he hasn't done anything like that since they reconnected. And he isn't planning to. This time, he wants to give Ian what he deserves. To truly appreciate him.

"Hey." Anthony takes Ian's hand.

"Don't do that," Ian tries to look the other way, but fails. They lock eyes once again.

"I'm being sincere, I promise," Anthony says. Ian blushes.

"That means a lot," Ian says. "Now cut it out with the sappy shit, you know I'm bad with that."

But Anthony holds onto Ian's hand stronger.

"It's not sappy, Ian, it's the honest truth. I love you."

Ian swallows. "Yes, and I love you, bro. I love you... and it's hard sometimes, you know? It's hard because when I look into your eyes, Anthony, I see... I see something I want to have. And it's this close, man. But I'll never have it and I've accepted that a long time ago."

"Come here," Anthony says softly, and pulls him into a tight embrace. He whispers: "I've done you wrong for so long, Ian. I want to give you everything... Anything you want. You can have it, whatever it is."

"Don't play with my feelings, Anthony."

"I'm not, I promise."

Ian slowly lets go, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Remember the staring contests?"

"Oh my god, those were always terrible hahaha."

Of course, Ian would break the tension.

"But this doesn't feel like a staring contest. We can finally look at each other honestly. Damn, it does feel good."

"Yeah."

"But Anthony, we have a script to finish."

"Fine. But promise me you're staying over tonight?"

"Fine. Idiot."

"Dumbass."

They go back inside.

#Ian's day #Ian day #fanfic #fan fiction #ianthony #this was my last fic for ian's day! I hope yall enjoyed! The fics I have read so far are stellar!! yall r incredible!#and the art!! jdshksdgjd #ian's day is already a success #and there's the writers who will post later in the day!! so excited!!!11 #AND ARTISTS

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