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#bump in case you missed it
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If you have the muse for it, could we maybe get a circus au or life interrupted update? Missing those two lately! Thank you!!! 😘
"Gil?...Gil!"
"Huh?" he turned, ruffling his hair with his free hand. "Uh, s-sorry, what were you saying?"
But his friend just frowned, "you sure you're okay? I know you're a doc to the animals, but are you really qualified to diagnose yourself?"
Gil subconsciously shifted his arm in his sling. He was no expert, but he did know how to reset a shoulder. Granted, it was because of getting into fights in his school days, but still. "Yeah, it'll be fine, really."
He shrugged, picking up some of the coiled ropes, "y'know you can take it easy if you want. We can finish setting things up for tonight."
Gil nodded, looking around them. Technically, all he did was light stuff to help out here and there. He wasn't really a regular crewman. But he had hung around all morning on the excuse of checking on the animals and helping out wherever his one good hand could help. "You, uh, seen Thena yet?"
He heard a few quiet chuckles and blushed; everyone knew why he was hanging around. He was eagerly and desperately trying to get even a glimpse of Thena. He hadn't seen her since the night she had admonished Kro - and her beast of a husband had dragged her away by the arm - and he was going nuts.
Of course, no one else knew that she had kissed him, either.
He was lying awake at night! And part of it was the pain, but another part was thinking about how she had leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't just a mistake of a peck, either, it was a real kiss. He could feel how she meant it, no matter what that really meant for them. She was a married woman, and married to the man who was both their boss, in a way.
"No one's seen her," another crewman shrugged. "Assumed boss had given her some time, I guess."
It was a reasonable guess. She had suffered quite a scare, after all. But her husband was not a reasonable man, and Gil was confident in guessing that Kro would sooner put on her costume himself than give her a day of rehearsal off without injury.
Gil picked himself up and tugged at one of his suspenders. "Thanks guys, I'll grab some lunch I guess."
They sent him off with well wishes. He wasn't in any shape to do any of the usual heavy lifting he could be asked for anyway. But rather than go in search of the group lunch being cooked behind the main tents, he slipped away towards the train.
He hadn't seen Thena in two whole days. She had once said that Kro would never really hurt her, but that was the only time when Gil wasn't really inclined to have confidence in what she said. He didn't trust anything about Kro. And he was really trying not to let the kiss influence that thinking in him, either.
He couldn't let it. She was a married woman. Whether she had kissed him or not, it wasn't his place. And he was concerned about her regardless. This wasn't about him and his feelings, it was about making sure she was okay.
"Thena?" he whispered, sticking his head out and between cars and looking around like a common cat burglar. He crept around, picking his boots up lightly.
Maybe Kro had her chained up like a ruffian. Not that he really thought he would, but he wouldn't be as surprised as he would like to be by something so barbaric.
"Thena!" he whispered again, slowly making his way to their shared sleeper car. If he was found, Kro would probably feed him to the lions. But he had to know.
Once at their sleeper car, he checked around him one more time. He knew Kro was in the main tent, snapping his cane against the ring and shouting up a storm. No one had been able to ask how Thena was without getting a real earful.
Gil knocked on the door with his good hand, pressing his ear close, "Thena, are you in there?"
"Gil?"
She didn't sound hurt, or teary or anything. He gulped, "can...are you hurt? Can I see you?"
"I'm fine Gil, you can come in."
Part of him still imagined a nightmare in which he would walk in and find her on the floor, sitting crumpled like a bird fallen from the sky. But Thena was no fallen angel. He closed the door behind him as he saw her seated at the little table barely big enough for a single plate.
He had never seen her in a normal dress, but the soft, creamy fabric looked just like her hair.
"I'm sorry I worried you," she professed immediately, still sitting primly at the table. "Kro told me I wasn't to leave for the next two days. People should think I'm in recovery."
Which was very different from actually wanting her to recover from her fall, but it would make people think of the monster more favourably.
"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, still almost whispering as he dared to come a little closer. "Are you resting?"
She smiled at him, like having not seen him for days was completely normal and expected. "I'm resting fine. Kro has been bringing me food twice a day."
So, she was missing a meal, Gil surmised. He frowned, but that was the least of his worries. "Why won't he let you out?"
Thena's expression finally cracked, and he saw her eyes drift to his shoulder. "He asked if there was anything...with you."
The words she didn't say weighed a lot more than the ones she did, and Gil found himself flustered again. He had always known what his feelings for Thena meant. But he had thought it was a harmless crush on his unattainable and lovely boss' wife. The implication that she cared for him too...it was enough to have his stethoscope picking up his own heartbeat from ten paces.
"I assured him there wasn't," she looked down at the little table, tucking some hair behind her ear. "He said then there should be no reason I should want to leave."
There should be no reason for her to ask to see him--that was the threat that had kept her in here. If she asked to see him, or probably even ran into him accidentally, Kro would have grounds to suspicions. And Gil wasn't sure which one of them would face worse consequences for them.
Gil looked around the sleeper car. It was larger than the others, of course, or maybe it was just arranged neater. It had a small but proper bed, rather than just a cot and some hay. The little table, there was a trunk that probably held their collective things. There was even a little radio on top of it, as well as an oil lamp.
"It's not a prison."
He didn't feel comforted by that. She was unharmed, sure, in a physical sense. But sometimes animals could seem fine, then they'd give out the next day of a broken heart or some such. He moved even closer, even kneeling down to face her better (he wouldn't dare move the chair across from hers). "Birds get real down if they're in cages too much."
She laughed a little at the insinuation.
"Really," he whispered. Without him telling it to, his free hand drifted up to hers, feeling the softness of her pretty linen dress. "They're meant to be free. Clipping their wings...it seems harmless, but it really hurts them, even just a little bit, everyday."
Thena tilted her head at him, her hair slipping over her shoulder. She was so beautiful, and far too delicate for a cage like this.
Gil sighed as she brought his hand from resting over hers on her lap to her lips. In another life, he could imagine this would be a beautiful moment.
It was brief, but for just a split second, her lip wobbled. She whispered, "I wish I had met you a lifetime ago."
Gil's heart broke inside his chest. It fractured, just like his stupid shoulder. Oh, to have met her a lifetime ago. To have met her as a student, to have scraped and scrimped for pennies so he could buy her flowers and take her on swan boats on the lake. To have swooned over her everyday until he could kneel just like this and hold up an embarrassingly modest ring and ask for another lifetime.
He wasn't sure when it happened, but he rose from his knee, tilting her head with his palm and kissing her as if she weren't married. As if they had this lifetime to get it right. Which wasn't true, but it wouldn't be something he would regret, either.
Thena sighed against his lips, her hand moving to his hair. She kissed like she hadn't drank in days and he was an ice cold lemonade. "I wish I could love you."
He loved her anyway, wishes be damned. "Thena-"
She pressed her fingers to his lips, breaking the spell around them and forcing him a precious few inches away. "He'll be back soon. If he catches you in here-"
He gripped her shoulder, "I won't let him hurt you, Thena. Never-"
She grasped his hand between hers, "I am not worried about what he will do to me."
So, Kro had threatened him to get her to comply with his sick delusions of ownership. And Gil hated to admit it, but in his current state, he wasn't so sure he would in a fight against the ring leader.
His heart groaned in his chest, begging not to be separated from her. He made a face, "I can't just leave you like this."
She looked him square in the eyes, and the frosty, fiery acrobat he knew - and loved - was back. "You can, and you will--for both our sake."
She was right, he would because it would be best for her, if not both of them. But he didn't have to like it. He gave her hand another squeeze, even as he picked up his feet again. "When will he let you out of here?"
"I don't know," she whispered back, their hands dragging apart like lines of a frayed rope snapping string by string. "Until he's satisfied he has nothing to fear from you."
Kro had everything to fear from him, and as soon as his shoulder was better, Gil would see to it, too.
"I'll try and find you when he does."
He turned back to her, his hand on the car door. "Don't do anything risky. If he tries anything-"
Their eyes both shot to the side. It wasn't dangerously close yet, but it was definitely Kro's voice drawing nearer. Thena eyed him, begging him to leave before their lives were changed irreparably.
Gil nodded, dragging himself out and closing the door as quietly as possible. He held his arm as he slipped away, the muscles screaming at him like a storm was on the horizon. He stopped on the other side of the car.
"Well?"
"What?" Thena's softer voice came, but Gil was relieved to hear her usual sharpness in the demand.
"Usually you're begging to know how your little boyfriend is doing!" Kro barked at her. Gil heard the rattle of a container being tossed down, perhaps one of Thena's meals for the day.
"You told me to stop bringing him up," she fired right back at him. There was a pause before she added, "dearest."
Gil felt his gut clench. He had seen Kro use that term of endearment for her, and it never failed to make her squeamish.
"Very well then," Kro snarled back at her, "darling."
Gil waited a little more, but that seemed the end of it. And he had no choice but to leave it at that, at least for now. He dragged himself away, feeling just a little bit of a coward for it, too. His shoulder was aching again.
"Hey, Gil, you get some yet?"
It was lunch time. He eyed the pot of stew. Maybe that would be just the thing. "Say, will you do something for me?"
He was heard out as he explained that he was worried about Thena--heard she was on bed rest and all. It didn't come from him, but maybe - just if there were leftovers after everyone had their share - if someone could ask the boss nice and casual if Miss Thena would like it...?
Again, everyone saw right through him. But Thena was not her husband, and the crew agreed readily that they would ask in a very normal and friendly way if Miss Thena wanted any of their extra portions for the day. The lady needed her strength and all.
And Gil needed his too. The quicker his shoulder healed, the faster Thena could stop worrying about him, and the faster he could confront Kro about the treatment of his wife.
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Owl House: Who was your favorite character at the start and at the end?
I FINALLY FINISHED THE SERIES! So can finally answer this
Okay, so at the start, it was Eda, of course. I would be so surprised if Eda wasn't everyone's favourite at the start, and to a degree, she is still my favourite. I still aspire to be Eda when I grow up, she is my icon
BUT NOW, I have like, several favourites for many different reasons.
Like Hunter, King, The Collector and Willow are just MY BABIES! THEY ARE MY KIDDOS! I just want to adopt all 4 of them, for different reasons but I do! Willow is quite like me and I just want to shield her from shit, whereas Hunter is completely unlike me, but I still saw his struggles and how difficult his life is AND JUST WANT TO SHIELD HIM TOO! The Collector, for obvious reasons, he is just a kiddo! And he did bad things but they didn't know they were bad! They just need love goddamn it! And King, the little guy that since the beginning I have just wanted to adopt and hug for the rest of my life
However, I also love Eda, Darius, Lilith, Alador and Camila for being parental figures to different people, and being the guardians I wanted in life! they mean the world to me, they are so funny but also adorable to me
Gus and Hooty i adore for their one liners! I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO LOVE THEM AS MUCH AS I DO
AND RAINE! AND EBER! AND, literally any character I have talked about, they are beloved by me
However my top favourites (I won't be able to choose just one, i am not a decisive person!) are probably Eda, Alador, Darius, Camila, Luz (SHE IS AMAZING OKAY), Gus and King. The collector is up there too but you know. AND THAT IS A LOT OF PEOPLE BUT I have a big heart (i have been described as heartless before but shush) so they can all fit there
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lanshappycorner · 6 months
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No bc the reason why I added in the tags that I would rather not have ppl rb that ask meme from me is because it clogs my notifs if other ppl start rbing it 😭😭 there is no other reason
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evangelifloss · 2 months
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Thinking about a certain scene in Dungeon Meshi that completely encapsulates the Autistic experience of making friends as an adult and how hard it is to try and navigate it without ending up getting hurt.
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Like IDK about y'all, but this is a common problem ALOT of Autistic Adults face when trying to make friends with other people, because unlike children who aren't good at keeping their opinions to themselves, Adults ARE. In society, we're even encouraged to "keep the peace" "be polite" and etc, which commonly leads to awful scenarios as shown above when Laois finds out his buddy has come to resent who Laois is without actually telling him. All too often the friends that we love to hang out with, people that we're so happy to spend time with, don't feel the same way and in many cases, come to blame us for our social cues or lack thereof.
And when/if we do eventually find out how our friend feels, Dungeon Meshi hits us with another painful panel of how that usually ends up playing out.
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It's hard for Adults with Autism to make friends, and even harder to maintain them because alot of the ways Neurotypicals tell other Neurotypicals that they don't like a certain behavior is by quietly disengaging. Whether that involves having one sentence answers, going quiet, or having a certain tone in their voice, all those things signal annoyance or disapproval, but for the Neurodivergents, those subtle cues are completely missed.
And yet when we inevitably discover we DID do something, it is natural to ask "well why didn't you tell me?" because in our minds, it should've been the next step in the equation. However for the Neurotypicals, that's NOT something to bring up. Its important to be SUBTLE about the issue at hand and rely on signals to tell the other person. Blame is placed on us for not noticing the "obvious" signs of disapproval rather than the idea of talking it out as such things are uncomfortable and harder to do. Alot of the time what ends up happening is resentment due to the idea that it was "obvious" and the fact one didn't notice indicates a deliberate ignorance rather than a complete unawareness. It ends up calling into question our quality as a person and our sincerity. We get called "fake" or "malicious" or even "stupid" for failing social cues rather than questioning the decision to be indirect and vague.
For a manga about exploring the dungeon, it seems that the artist would rather explore very real and prevalent dynamics in society with the adventuring premise as a backdrop. I felt VERY seen in these panels, and many others, because it happens so suddenly and dare I say it, plainly. There's no dramatic build-up or spectacle made and in essence, it just Happens.
I think that's what makes the scene hit even harder. It seemingly comes out of nowhere for Laois, like how it always comes out of nowhere for alot of people, and it's never a dramatic twist either. It's always mundane and hurtful. A sudden unforeseen bump in the road that ends up calling into question one's entire friendship with someone and consequent other friendships. It asks "what if other friends feel the same. What if the people that I really like actually hate me and I don't know it?" Or at least that's what I came away with after reading the chapter. I've been where Laois was and the only reason I'm not there now is because I lost the naivete I had and doubt everyone else's sincerity.
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inkdrinkerworld · 8 days
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season 11 spencer after he bulks up a little with his 3 piece suits and broad shoulders but he still has a baby face is so special to me.
i know he gives the best cuddles and he could talk me off a literal bridge with his sweet voice
Ugh when he comes out of prison I’m just 🤤🤤🤤 mention of reader having had a stomach bug but it's just a passing comment.
“What’s with that face?” You're laying in bed, in one of Spencer's boxers resting low on your hips and your sports bra that expose his favourite parts of you..
"I'm tired and you woke me up early with no kiss, Spencer." You try for as petulant as you feel, pouting all the while your boyfriend smiles from the doorway with a mug of coffee in his hands.
"I asked you to come join me outside for breakfast, the vitamin d will help with your cabin fever."
You and Spencer have been at home for the last couple of days because you had caught a very nasty stomach bug and Spencer had insisted on helping with the case from home. He still isn't ready to leave your side yet.
"That's no reason to begrudge the love of your life a good morning kiss." You roll off the bed, snatching your latest obsession- crossword puzzle books- off the nightstand and stomping to your boyfriend.
"Good morning," he says quietly, his free hand settling on your hip, his thumb dragging along the stretchmarks and moles that litter the skin there. You tip your chin up on your own accord, your nose bumping Spencer's as you eagerly reach for his face in a kiss.
Spencer leads the kiss easily, tongue and teeth exploring your mouth slowly before he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed as you chase his lips making him chuckle.
"Hi," you say breathlessly, your hands dropping from his face to his shoulders. "What did you make for breakfast?"
Spencer slots his fingers through yours, leading you to the kitchen to collect a tray filled with both your favourites.
"A bit of everything, c'mon sweetheart." Spencer sits first on the porch swing first, holding the tray with one hand before reaching for you with his other one.
You let yourself be arranged in his lap, your legs over his, your cheek to his shoulder and the tray over both your laps. Spencer smells like home, lavender and clean cotton and warm like he's made especially for spring time.
"You can have your coffee after, it's not recommended to have it on an empty stomach." He cuts up a crepe and tops it the way you like- with fruit syrup and whipped cream and gives you a bit before you can muster the energy to complain.
With a content sigh, you chew quietly, opening up your crossword book and tapping your pen on your lips. "What's a seven letter word for, 'devotion or tenderness.'" you ask Spencer as he hands over your mug to you.
You're so focused on the book, that you miss the way he looks at you, all the keenness and devotion bared in his eyes and the way they soften as the answer comes to him.
"Cherish," he kisses the crown of your head as you scribble, a smile on his face as you lean down and press a sticky kiss to his wrist.
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onlyswan · 1 month
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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.
idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k
warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao
playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo
> in which masterlist!
note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!
I. THE FALLING
“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”
his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.
heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.
he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.
“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”
“sure. should i be worried?“
“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”
you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”
oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.
he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”
“i have an extra toothbrush!”
jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.
“can you see if this fits you?”
you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.
“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”
he chuckles. “you forgot?”
“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”
does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.
you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”
but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?
the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.
“it’s nice, right?”
he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.
“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”
“is that so? thank you!”
he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.
“and what do we have here?”
jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.
“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”
“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.
you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.
“goodnight, jungkook.”
“goodnight.”
he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.
“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”
jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.
he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.
he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.
it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.
he flinches.
your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.
he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.
“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.
he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.
he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.
his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.
he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.
“so, so adorable.”
the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.
II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR
“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”
you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.
he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”
“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”
“the one you think is lying about being rich?”
“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”
that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.
“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”
“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”
“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”
fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?
“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”
“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”
“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.
yeah, how convenient.
he exhales through his mouth.
when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.
“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.
he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.
jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.
“are you okay?”
his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.
“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”
“i can give you a massage. if you want.”
“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”
“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”
he squints his eyes at you. “really?”
“you don’t believe me?”
you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.
“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”
“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”
he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.
“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”
“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”
he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.
he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”
“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”
“you’re still doing it right now!”
“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”
there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.
“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”
“here? your shoulder blade?”
“yes!”
“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”
it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.
“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”
“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”
he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.
“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”
he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” you hum.
the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.
“hey, wipe your drool.”
he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.
“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”
“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”
“that happens a lot.”
“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”
the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.
“goodnight!”
“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.
his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.
“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”
“no, i’m fine.”
he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.
he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.
he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?
“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.
he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.
as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.
he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.
and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.
III. THE YEARNING
jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.
instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.
if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.
“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”
“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”
oh my god, what is happening?
“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”
unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.
a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”
two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.
when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.
dangerous because he wants to kiss you.
dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.
“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”
and the door slams shut. you both flinch.
“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”
you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.
“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”
you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”
he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.
“why? are you mad at me?”
“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”
“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.
and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.
“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”
“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”
“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”
he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.
“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”
you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.
perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?
not that it matters.
you cling to his neck and it all melts away.
he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”
“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”
“where’s your key?”
“huh?”
“your key-”
“oh!”
you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.
he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.
after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.
“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.
jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.
goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.
“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”
“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”
he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.
“you’re so hardheaded.”
he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.
“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.
you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?
dear god, he hopes so.
jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.
he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.
when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.
a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.
the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.
this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.
he feels a weak tug at his sweater.
“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.
next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!
he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”
“i’m cold,” you repeat.
“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”
his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.
you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.
now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.
he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.
he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.
“my makeup…”
you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.
“what was that?”
“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”
he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.
he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.
“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”
he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.
his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.
as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”
IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS
“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”
“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”
jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.
“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”
you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”
“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”
a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.
“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”
“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”
“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”
he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”
“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”
“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.
“is it for you?”
“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”
jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.
he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.
“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”
your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.
he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”
“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”
you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.
“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”
“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”
he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.
“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”
he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.
V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM
although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.
but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.
you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.
“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.
you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”
“mhm? yes, baby?”
you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.
you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”
his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.
jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.
the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.
he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”
“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.
he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.
it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.
“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”
you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“
he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”
you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.
“ye-yes, really.”
“then what’s stopping you?”
he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”
you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.
he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.
“may i?”
the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.
your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.
“may i?” he repeats himself.
he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.
“will you fuck me good after?”
the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.
“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.
you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.
you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.
“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”
“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”
you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.
“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”
hell no, you’re not.
but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.
the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.
has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.
you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.
“are you good? do you need anything? water?”
“again.”
his eyes widens. “again?“
“round two.” you giggle.
you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.
“jungkook-” you complain.
“wait!”
you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.
“what is it?”
“i found it!”
it’s the flower.
beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.
he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.
it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?
you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.
the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.
“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.
you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.
he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.
“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”
“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”
he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.
“at least eat first!”
“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”
“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”
“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”
“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.
he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.
“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.
“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”
VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME
“i missed you.”
you giggle. “you look drunk.”
you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.
he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”
“then go to sleep!”
“i don’t want to!”
he opens one eye, peeking at you.
“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”
“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”
while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.
“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”
you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.
“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”
you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”
“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”
“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”
you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?
“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.
“i’m not!”
“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.
it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.
“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”
there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.
“wonder about?”
“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”
you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.
“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”
“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”
“it’s not a big deal!”
“go on then. i’m listening.”
“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”
the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.
“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”
“baby, what are you even saying-”
“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”
“but they’re not you!”
he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.
“it’s really as simple as that.”
“but when we weren’t official yet-”
“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”
you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”
“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”
he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.
she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?
but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.
oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.
you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.
you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.
you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”
“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”
“how would i know?”
he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”
he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.
“he’s still awake, right?”
“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”
you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”
“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”
“wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”
“aw, my love…”
he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.
“just close your eyes.”
and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.
“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”
but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.
you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”
“i won’t unless you go back with me!”
this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.
with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.
taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.
“need anything?”
“all the videos you have of him drunk!”
“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”
VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY
“give it to me.”
the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.
relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.
the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.
jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.
he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.
his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.
“my love, why are you sad?”
you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.
“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”
his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”
“really? how’d you know?”
“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”
“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”
“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”
“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.
he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.
“you have me. what’s wrong?”
your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.
“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”
“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”
he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.
“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”
it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.
“you’re my reason to live too.”
“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”
“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”
“i will die eventually.” you grimace.
“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”
“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”
you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.
“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”
“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.
the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.
“why am i getting upset?”
“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”
ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.
“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”
he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.
“what then? are we supposed to die together?”
he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”
“wow, very shakespearean of you.”
“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”
“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.
jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.
“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.
“thank you?”
“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”
“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”
“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”
cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.
he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.
he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.
the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.
he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.
it’s time to sleep, he also decides.
he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”
(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)
[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]
“is it rolling?”
“yes, it’s rolling.”
you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.
your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.
the lens zoom in on your face.
childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.
“am i doing it?!”
“you are!”
“really?”
“really!”
“is it pretty?”
your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.
“let me watch!”
the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.
rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.
“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”
“why?”
“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”
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railingsofsorrow · 7 months
Text
Recharging. . .
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)
w.c: 3.8K
warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.
A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.
loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home
want to read more works about this au?
→ day-off
━━━━━━━━━━━━
You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.
“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.
Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.
“We're visiting daddy!”
A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.
“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”
Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”
“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”
“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”
You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.
“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.
“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”
An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.
From “Spencer”:
[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.
[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.
This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.
It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.
You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.
You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.
“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.
To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”
[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...
You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.
Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.
Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.
Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.
You haven't seen your husband yet.
“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”
Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.
“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.
You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”
JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”
“Preach, Jayge.”
Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.
Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.
You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.
Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.
“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.
The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.
In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.
He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.
They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.
“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”
Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”
“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.
“Mr. Greenie.”
“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.
He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.
“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”
His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.
“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”
Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”
Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.
You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.
His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.
You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.
A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.
“Hey.”
Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.
Good thing your love language is physical touch.
“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.
Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.
“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.
He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.
At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.
“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.
Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.
“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.
The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”
The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.
Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.
“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”
That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.
“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”
Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.
“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”
“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”
“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.
“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”
“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.
You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.
It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.
“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”
Oh, kids.
Now it all made sense.
A shiver went down your spine at the thought.
“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.
“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.
“Spencer.”
“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”
You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.
“I wasn't fast enough.”
“It was not your fault.”
“You weren't there.”
You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.
“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.
“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.
“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”
Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.
That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.
“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”
His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.
“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”
Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.
“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”
Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.
“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”
You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.
“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”
Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.
“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”
She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.
Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?
The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.
Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.
“Thank you.”
Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.
“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.
“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”
You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.
“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.
“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”
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taglist: @lilyviolets
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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.
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milkiane · 2 years
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I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU. eddie munson.
navigation - masterlist - taglist
summary: the four times eddie knew he was a goner and the one time he told you.
warnings: no spoilers! don’t worry, you’re safe here. profanities. gif credits to @his-name-is-ed <3
word count: 5.1k
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i. the first time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he found out that you love mötley crüe. 
eddie knows his presence is hard to miss. aside from his wild hair and clothing choices, which apparently do not fit the social standards, he makes it exceptionally difficult for people to ignore him. 
and yet, on a particular, normal, chilly friday in the school field, you effortlessly grab his attention. you didn’t need crazy hair or seeking clothes or loud eccentric speeches on top of a cafeteria table. you’re just… sitting there with a frown on your face and eddie thinks…
eddie can’t think. his mind draws blank as he continues to stare at you.
so like dominoes, his abrupt stop results in the rest of the hellfire club bumping into him, which causes a streak of groans and complaints, but eddie pays them no mind because as if his legs have a mind of their own, they bring him right to you. “carry on without me, my little sheep, destiny awaits!”
you groan in annoyance, slamming your hand onto your malfunctioning walkman. “stupid, stupid, little shi-”
“y’know, i don’t think mauling the poor thing will make it work.” 
you look up at the voice with a glare, your face softens just a bit after seeing it was eddie, but the glare prevails nevertheless, still frustrated with your walkman.
“i mean, sure, i guess that could make it work, too,” eddie shrugs, hopping on top of the picnic table instead of sitting on the benches like a normal person.
“it will work,” you grit your teeth, hitting the side of the device as it did nothing to fix the distorted voice of vince neil. “it just needs a bit of tough love.”
after watching you for a few more minutes with an amused smile, eddie snatches it out of your hands, convinced that you would break it if it doesn’t revive the next second. he ignores your objections as he opens his black metal lunchbox.
“it’s not a lunchbox,” he absentmindedly retorts to your murmur as he goes through his things, silently muttering a quiet no, not this, nope, what the hell is this? and finally, aha!
he raises a mini screwdriver before you as if it will magically take your problems away. “this, my lady, will magically take your problems away.”
huh. 
you hesitantly watch as eddie pops open your walkman, taking out the mixtape to find the tape itself burst out of its case. he tinkers and meddles with it carefully, doing wonders as he manually rewinds it. 
you use his current distraction to take a good look at him. you’ve seen him around the school; in class, in the hallways, at the cafeteria, but you’ve never crossed the borders of his personal bubble or actually spoken to him until now.
he isn’t a bad sight to see. 
his hair, although gone rogue, looks so soft that you physically have to restrain yourself from touching it. he has tattoos inked on his skin, slightly covered by his hellfire shirt as if teasing you and leaving you wanting to see more. beautiful silver rings graced his fingers making you want to study each intricate detail that embellished the jewelry.
his tongue is poking out of his lips, brows furrowed in concentration. his nose is slightly crooked as if it’s been broken before. he has dimples piercing his cheeks and the lightest of freckles sprinkled over his face, only noticeable if kissed under the sun.
all things considered, eddie munson is a sight for sore eyes.
“are you done staring, sweetheart?” eddie teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “if you’d like, i can pose for you on this table.”
you were too deep in your reveries that you didn’t notice he was done. you blink up at him and scoff. “shut up, i wasn’t staring.”
“it’s fine, y’know, it’s normal to stare at pretty things.” he encourages you, satirically playing with his hair. “especially if you’re one of those connoisseurs of art.”
“wow, someone learned a new word today.” you praise him sarcastically.
“now, now, y/n, is that a way to treat someone who just fixed your lil walkman?” eddie chastises, grabbing your headphones from your neck and putting it on his ears. “what were you listening to anyway?”
he gives it a few seconds before the familiar music comes in. he whips his head towards you with a slack jaw. he winces, his hand coming in contact with his neck, massaging the pain from snapping his head towards you too fast.
… i've been a poet always tongue in cheek,
i've seen some scenes man you'd never believe,
and like a supercharged rocket ride,
you know they'd have gasoline if they had the time.
“you- you listen to mötley crüe!” eddie blurts out, standing on the picnic table and pointing an accusatory finger at you. “you’re one of us!”
“shut up!” you pull him back down with a yank. you can still hear angela blasting through your headphones. you look at him with a sigh before muttering. “i love mötley crüe.”
eddie lets out a choked laugh, jumping off the table and squishing your cheeks with his hands. “you’re a cute little metal freak!”
“shut up, munson! you better get your hands off my face or so help me god.”
it came out as gibberish but the point came across. 
“you say ‘shut up’ too much, is that your favorite word?” eddie calls into question, leaning closer to you with a roguish grin. his gaze flickers down to your pouting lips before staring straight into your eyes. “i can teach you more ways to shut me up, y’know?”
“scout’s honor that it’s even more efficacious than the words itself.” he winks at you before grabbing his lunchbox, leaving you bewildered and baffled beyond belief. mötley crüe did not do anything to blur the forming thoughts in your head.
that was strike one for eddie munson.
ii. the second time eddie knew he was a goner was when… you knocked someone out cold with a box of frozen waffles.
you shouldn’t have been out at an ungodly hour, quite frankly, but you really, really, wanted some eggos. so clad in sweats and an oversized shirt, you walk out of bradley’s big buy with three boxes of mini waffles in hand.
and as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with only one interaction, you hear eddie munson’s voice. “hey, come on, man. you’ve been my client for over a year now and you’re only doubting me now?”
“we talked about fifteen grams, munson, so i’m expecting fifteen grams.” 
eddie sighs, rubbing his tired face with his hand. they’ve been going back and forth and he was starting to get annoyed. he wasn’t even supposed to be dealing right now, but when money calls, you answer it. 
“look, man. it’s fifteen. if you don’t believe me, give me the money, go find a weighing scale, and weigh your shit. it’s fifteen grams.” he says, grabbing his lunchbox, but just as he wrapped his fingers on the handle, he gets shoved to the ground, his things crashing with him, skin scratched from catching himself on the rough pavement.
motherfucker.
“hey!” you didn’t want to. you really didn’t want to, but before you can think twice, you get in between eddie and the ridiculously tall buff guy.
you should really start thinking twice.
said guy, although high as a kite, looks at the box of eggos on the floor and back at you. you had thrown a box of waffles at his head.
“take your fifteen grams and leave,” you order calmly, ignoring the whispers of objections of eddie, who immediately stands up at lightspeed, startled by your sudden presence.
“i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and your little druggy friend, a’ight?” he sneers, pushing you aside to grab eddie by his shirt. “besides, the fuck do you know about packing shit right?”
“i know how to pack a punch, for starters.”
you didn’t give him or eddie to process your words before, CRACK! your fist comes in contact with his nose — a sickening crunch and a cry had them both freezing, well, except for the junkie clutching his nose.
“you bitch!” 
with the throbbing pain of your knuckles, you could only whack him across his face with the box of waffles in your hand as he leaped to get you. 
eddie, still frozen in his spot, can only watch in both horror and amazement as the guy gets knocked out cold, face kissing the sidewalk. 
“holy shit…”
“how much did he owe you?” you huff, clutching your victimized hand as you stand over the guy. 
“twenty.” he blinks.
you shrug, digging a hand in the jean pocket of the junkie and placing the crumpled bills in eddie’s hand. “twenty-five for being a shithead.”
eddie took you out for some ice cream treat after that.
“remind me to never get on your nerves, you scare me,” he said, but there was no real fear behind his words, just a twinge of wonder in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes.
you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to, so you just grinned at him before taking a scoop out of his ice cream.
and at that moment, under the moonlight with frozen waffles aiding your knuckles and discarded ice cream cups on top of his van, eddie just knew that you would stick around. 
and the rest was history.
that was strike two for eddie munson.
iii. the third time eddie knew he was a goner was when… traces of you were slowly starting to bleed into his life, and he didn’t mind.
“is this… MADONNA?”
eddie snaps his head towards the curly-headed boy in his passenger seat, eyes widening at the sight of the manifold of mixtapes that sits on dustin’s lap.
he splutters incoherent excuses as he chucks them back into his glovebox, a hand still on the wheel as he tries to keep the van steady. 
dustin watches in amusement as eddie fumbles with the mixtape that fell from his grasp. he snatches it out of his mentor’s hand and snickers, “wow, abba, too? didn’t know you were such a pioneer of music, eddie.”
eddie thwacks him with the d&d gazette before turning his eyes back on the road. “those aren’t mine.”
it was his. you left it for him.
dustin squints his eyes at his friend as if staring at him like that will force him to tell the truth, and it almost did, but thankfully, he chooses to go through the mixtape-filled glovebox again instead.
you brought half of your mixtapes with you when eddie had asked you to accompany him on a spontaneous road trip out of town one day. he always looks back to that moment.
you were passionately talking about the songs that graced your diverse music taste, hands animatedly moving around as words spew out of your mouth every millisecond. he understood every single thing you said, though.
just because you love mötley crüe doesn’t mean you don’t love starship. you love kiss but you also love the beatles. you love metallica but you also love bee gees, and maybe he was starting to like it, too. 
if you ask eddie, he’ll choose cyndi lauper’s time after time as his slow dance song. absolutely irrelevant yet very relevant.
“why the hell are you smiling like a crazy man?” dustin pokes his cheeks, effectively snapping him out of his daydream.
eddie slaps his hands away from his face.
aside from mixtapes in his glovebox, eddie also has a special drawer with the clothes you often leave at his house, and with the best detergent he has – a discounted brand from a dollar store – he voluntarily washes it for you to wear next time.
 “did… did you wash my clothes?” he remembers you asking the first time.
he turns away from his notebook to look at you. “uh, yeah. you left some of your stuff here and i decided to include it with mine last wash day.”
“oh,” you beam, pulling the material to your nose and breathing it in. “thanks, babe.”
eddie ignores the warmth of his cheeks and goes back to doodling in his notebook. “‘course, would you like me to wear a maid outfit while i’m at it next time?”
you laugh. “i’d like that very much.”
you bring the soft fabric back to your nose, it smells just like him.
you start leaving more clothes in his room after that.
that was strike three for eddie munson.
iv. the fourth time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he wanted to be the best version of himself whenever you’re around.
“okay, so i have a bag of those honeycomb cereal you like, some pringles, juice boxes, pints of ice cream…”
as you continue to list off the snacks you brought for the d&d campaign with the boys, eddie leans forward to buckle your seatbelt, letting you catch a whiff of his cologne. he tugs it twice to make sure it’s fastened properly. “safety first.”
you pause. “you literally never wear your seatbelt.”
“that’s because i sold my soul to the devil for immortality,” eddie pats your thigh before backing out of your driveway. “and because it will cause a decline in my precious reputation!”
“what, common road safety?” you snort. “do tell, kind sir, what would the great eddie munson be known for?”
“you don’t know?” he scoffs in mock disbelief. “i’m an evil self-proclaimed attention whore – i’m known for a lot of things, sweetheart.”
“speaking of being an attention whore,” you gravitate towards him to sniff him again. “are you wearing a new perfume, munson?”
“sit back down, dumbass! and it’s cologne, not perfume.”
“same shit. are you trying to impress someone?” you tease, settling down back in your seat before letting out an overdramatic gasp. “is it dustin? is it because he’s been hanging out with steve the past week?”
“what? no!” he wavers for a moment before sniffing himself. “why? does it smell bad?”
you laugh. “no, no. i actually like it better than your old one.”
“good, i bought it especially for you.” he winks, turning the volume of the music up before you can even reply.
“i can’t believe erica rolled a d20!” eddie exclaims, packing up the boards.
“and twice,” you agree. 
as usual, you and eddie stayed back after the campaign, ushering the kids — and gareth and the group — out of the room as soon as you heard the distant rumble of the sky. you knew they’d be biking home, so you asked them to leave early, much to your best friend’s displeasure.
you pick up the empty chip bags and discarded juice boxes, prolonging the chat you’re having with eddie.
mid-conversation, you lean against his throne, garbage bag in your hands. he was talking animatedly and you’re not quite sure what he’s even talking about anymore.
the lights of the room give him a glow that makes your heart beam. the perfect combination of green, orange, and blue; it makes him look like a fallen angel. a devil in disguise. the right fusion of both.
his eyes are soft, it’s kind. his smile is, too. everything about him is. he doesn’t show anyone, but you always get the opportunity to see a part of him that makes you fall in love with him even more.
“…and then just as i was about to dream of rubbing their loss in their puny little faces — she slaps me with a crit hit! that’s twice!”
“yeah,” you whisper, a gentle smile on your lips. you push yourself off the chair and start helping him around the room. “maybe it’s a sign that you’re getting a bit rusty, buzz.”
“drop it with the nickname! it’s been years and i was only forced to have it shaved after stupid anthony chopped my hair nasty in history.”
you double down in laughter. “and wayne has been so gracious enough to show me the pictures.”
eddie glares at you before running towards you. you only advance two steps away from him before he catches you from behind and pulls you against him.
“salvage yourself, you insolent little minx.”
“no! i shan’t yield!”
giggles escape both of your lips, sounds slowly getting muffled by the drops of rain starting to patter one by one, making you and eddie stop in your tracks.
you exchange wide-eyed glances before hurrying with the packing.
you run out of the building, shoes splashing over the formed puddles, you didn’t even notice eddie shrug his jacket off to shield both of you from the rain. 
a few meters from his van, you pull away from him and let the water hit you, dampening your clothes all within a second. 
“what the hell are you doing?” eddie shouts over the loud pour.
“come on!” you pull him towards you, cold hands grasping his warm ones, you dance in the rain.
eddie watches you in disbelief, though there’s a smile on his face. “fuck it,” he mutters. “wait here.”
he runs to his van, almost slipping on the wet ground. “i’m okay!”
“idiot.” you snort.
eddie opens the door to the passenger seat and opens the glovebox. he grabs a random mixtape and fumbles to put it in the player, only then realizing that he didn’t even start the van. 
a minute or two later of waiting, you hear a bees gees song blast from eddie’s van. 
“come on, baby,” he whoops, grabbing your hands as he starts shimmying. “let’s dance!”
you let out a blissful laugh as he twirls you around. you jump around in the puddles, soaked clothes slightly weighing you down from being drenched. you attempt to twirl eddie around, too, which was a struggle due to his height.
he sings along to the song and you gasp in surprise. “you know this song?”
“do i- do i know this song?” he repeats in incredulity. “of course, i do! i’m in-”
adrenaline getting to his head, eddie realizes what he was about to say so he rectifies it. “you only sing it every second of the day. that damn song is engraved in my head!”
he pulls you back against him with a grin, a hand intertwined with yours and another supporting your back. he dips you, and you yelp in surprise.
the both of you are panting from all the dancing, but the smiles never left your face. you stare at his face, he stares at yours. you tuck a wet strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand rest on his jaw. he has a light stubble.
his eyes flicker to your lips, you do the same.
should i kiss him? should i not kiss him?
the loud boom of the thunder makes the decision for the two of you. the sound startles both of you, resulting in jumping away from each other faster than the next flash of lightning.
“we should head home if we still want to have this movie marathon,”
“yeah.”
eddie goes over his thoughts for a moment as you adjust the heater of the van. he recollects the resolution he made earlier, pondering over the idea of being the best version of himself though he already feels like he became it the first time he met you. how can one become the best-est best version of themselves?
that was strike four for eddie munson. 
but for you… you lost count of how many it’s been because every day with eddie adds a tally to your strikes.
v. the time eddie tells you how he’s a goner for you.
“harrington? fucking harrington?”
“it’s a friendly date, buzz,” you point out, hand steady as you do your eyeliner in his bedroom mirror.
“with harrington?” he stresses, his own hands tugging at his brown locks.
“yes, eddie.” you sigh, it’s been a repetitive back and forth. “it’s not a date date. it’s friendly, as i said. robin will be there.”
he sits up against the wall, lips moving before his brain can process his words. “well, if buckley’s gonna be there then what else does he want with you?”
you pause, dropping your hand to look at him. “okay, ouch.”
“no, i-” he groans dramatically into his hands. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just- i don’t understand why you have to spend a perfectly great night with harrington-”
“and robin.”
“-and robin, when you can just spend it with me.” eddie pouts. he sounds pathetic, he knows, but he’s jealous. what if you decide to leave him for steve? – and although he understands; it’s steve harrington, for god’s sake. he would, too, if he can – life would have no other purpose for him if you do.
“aww,” you mimic his pout, walking over to him to pat his cheeks. “don’t worry, hotshot, you’re still my favorite boy.”
“whatever,” he swats your hands away, though the grin tugging at the corner of his lips persists. he takes his time admiring you properly. you looked gorgeous, as always.
“c’mon, you big baby,” you protested. “robin will be there! plus, you can always come wi-”
“well, why didn’t you say so?” he exclaims, leaping towards the door clad in his hellfire shirt and boxers. “let’s go! we better get goi-”
you throw his jeans at him. “for your modesty.”
eddie was glad he came along. he looks at you with clear fondness, watching as your eyes light up like a child on christmas day. you jump in excitement, dragging him into the fair. 
“hey, you made it!” steve jogs towards you, but then his eyes flicker to your company. “…and munson.”
“harrington,” eddie grins, a hint of mischief in the glint of his smile as he bows to him.
you roll your eyes at them. “where’s robin?”
“right here, lovebug,” she smiles, offering you a pink cotton candy as she takes a bite off the blue one. steve’s mouth slowly falls slack in bewilderment.
“aww, my favorite,” you pout your lips as you clink your sweets like glasses of wine. 
“that’s mine!”
“buy your own cotton candy, dingus,”
“you paid for those with my money.”
eddie pays them no mind as they continue to bicker. he snatches a piece of cotton candy as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “i see a kissing booth we can go to… the marriage booth, too, maybe?”
“stop,” you smack his arm. “let’s start with the basketball — eddie, they’ve got those big teddy bears!”
“well, the night is young, sweetheart,”
the night is young, indeed. you go around the fair with the group, steve has the giant teddy bear propped on his shoulders as if it was his child — “he is!” he argued. “his name is harry harrington.”
“harry harrington?” you had asked in incredulity. “that’s a shit name, steve!”
he gasped in mock offense, bringing the bear down to cover its ears. “don’t listen to her, harry, she’s just jealous you aren’t hers.”
eddie’s jealous he isn’t yours, too, but he wasn’t going to say that. 
you felt as if you’ve managed to go through every single booth but according to the map robin had somehow snatched, there were more than half of it you have yet to explore.
“c’mon, there’s a ball toss over there,” eddie says, grabbing your arm to drag you away from steve. “gonna win you that giant fucking elephant.”
although as soon as you stop by before it, eddie does a double-take. “six dollars?”
“six dollars.” the merchant confirms.
he looks at you and whispers in disbelief. “six dollars?”
you shrug at him, letting out a chuckle at his expression. “capitalism, baby,”
eddie sighs. he’s glad he brought his wallet with him. he’s willing to spend all of his income if it meant getting you that elephant — and he will.
“we don’t have to, you know,” you reassure him, eyeing him as he reaches out for the dollars. “there’s still a lot of booths we can go to.”
“nah, i’m getting you that elephant.” he slams the money on the counter. the merchant smirks. three balls.
eddie grabs one and exhales. “wish me luck.”
he throws the ball, and again, and then again. and then he slams more money onto the counter, and then again, and again. 
his aim’s good, but not enough to knock all the cans down. steve and robin managed to do a round before returning to the both of you with corndogs in hand.
with his promise of a last round, he sighs at the sight of what’s left of the standing cans. he gives you the last ball.
“are you sure?” you hesitate.
“do the honors, my lady,” eddie smiles, eyes so soft that subtle crinkles show at the corners. 
and with a swift throw, you somehow manage to knock down all of the cans. you and eddie whoop in excitement, jumping up and down as the merchant sighs exasperatedly, grabbing your oversized prize.
“oh my god,” you whisper, hugging the elephant to your chest. “it’s so fluffy!”
eddie looks at you with a dopey lovesick smile. maybe it was the sparkling fairy lights overhead, or the distant music playing, or maybe it was because you’re practically bouncing off the balls of your feet, a giddy smile adorning your lips… or maybe it was because eddie cannot take it any longer so he says, “i’m in love with you.”
you falter for a bit, uncertain if you heard him correctly. “what?”
and steve, who had initially asked you on a date — although as friendly as he claims — leans against the wooden pillar, face contorting in realization, lips forming into an unmistakable o as he grasps what is happening.
robin grins, a quiet finally! unleashing from her lips. to give you two some privacy, well, as private as a conversation in a public place can be, she drags steve to a very friendly competition of high strikers. steve lets her, sending eddie an encouraging thumbs up. 
“i-i’m in love with you,” eddie repeats, voice wavering at your blank expression. he couldn’t read you and it’s making him anxious. “i’m so terribly and undeniably in love with you – i knew i did the moment you said you love mötley crüe.”
you let yourself feel all the emotions bursting in all at once. he likes you. eddie munson likes you, so you ask stupidly, “are you sure?”
eddie scoffs a laugh. “am i- am i sure? are you asking me if i’m sure about my own feelings?”
you shrug.
he looks at you before breaking into a run without another word.
“eddie, where are you going?” you call out frantically. 
eddie eyes the haystacks in the center of the park and clumsily mounts on them and nearly falls. he catches himself before he can tumble down. his eyes flicker to yours as he cups his hands over his mouth. “fair people of hawkins, i have an announcement to make!”
“what is he doing?” steve asks as he and robin appear from beside you. 
“i have no idea.”
some people stop by to watch, some go on with whatever it is they were doing, and you just stand where you’re planted, unsure of what he’s about to do and what you’re supposed to do.
“i, eddie munson, a self-proclaimed attention whore, have something very important to say.” he starts – “well, get on with it now!” a guy exclaims. eddie ignores him – “i am in love with y/n l/n. i’ve been in love with her since i found out she loves metal, i’ve fallen for her since she knocked a guy out cold with frozen waffles–”
“frozen waffles?” robin questions.
“– i fell for her even harder when she introduced me to madonna –  that’s right, i love madonna! but most importantly, i knew i was a goner when i wanted to become the best version of myself for her. i wanted to become the person she deserves because i am in love with you, y/n, always have.”
you soften and the world disappears around you; it was just you and him. there is an ache in your chest, but not because of heartbreak, it’s because it feels as if it will burst out of your chest out of love. 
“we can’t help who we fall for,” eddie breathes out, walking down the stack. “but honestly, i’m glad it’s you because there’s no one else in this world whom i would love to love if it’s not you.”
you shove the elephant in steve’s hold and walk straight to eddie. 
he sends you a small smile, arms extended. when you’re a step closer, he whispers. “i’m sorry, i just had to-”
“shut up,” you command, pulling him in for a heated kiss, fingers getting lost and tangled in his hair, his arms snake around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, no gap left unfilled.
your lips dance a fast-paced song, it’s all but intense and passionate – a hint of eagerness and the satisfaction of longing. you forget that it wasn’t just the two of you, that there was a crowd watching you both kiss. you can hear the faint coos of the moms by the corner.
“get a room!” a guy barks out. simultaneously, you and eddie flipped him off but the kiss decelerates into soft and sensual, a contrast to the shared feverish one, now easing up to the feeling of content and delicate love.
you pull away a second later, forehead touching his as you don’t dare to open your eyes yet. “i’m in love with you, too, if it’s not obvious yet.”
“well, i should hope so,” eddie laughs. he gives you a quick peck on the lips before fixing you with a teasing grin. “how about that marriage booth now, sweetheart?”
“take me out on a date first, loverboy.” you interlace your hand with his as you walk away from the spotlight.
“how about a kiss on top of the ferris wheel?” he proposes instead.
“sap,” you scrunch your nose up with a smile. “but i’m not opposed to the idea.”
that was strike ??? for you and eddie.
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“just to let you all know, i am not going to sit next to steve on the ferris wheel.”
“what do you mean? i’m an amazing ferris wheel companion.”
“would you like to get shoved off the seat once we’re on top?”
“... how about the bumper cars?”
“deal.”
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© milkiane 2022. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO MODIFY OR REPOST MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS.
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iicarused · 4 months
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##let us adore you
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jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED
synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them
beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !
envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)
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JEFF THE KILLER
he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?
he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.
“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.
you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?
he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.
“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.
“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”
through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.
“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”
you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.
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EYELESS JACK
you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.
you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.
to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving
“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.
the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.
the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.
“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.
you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before
this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights
he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.
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TICCI TOBY
your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.
he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.
everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.
you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.
turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be
“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.
you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”
while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.
“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”
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latenightreadingpdf · 1 month
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Familiar Faces - Spencer Reid
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Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid reunites with childhood friend Y/N, only to discover she's being stalked. As the BAU investigates, old feelings resurface between them.
The bright fluorescent lights of the FBI building cast a glow over the corridor. Doctor Spencer Reid adjusted his satchel on his shoulder, his mind racing with the details of the latest case file that had just landed on his desk. He was lost in thought when he bumped into someone, nearly dropping the stack of papers he was holding.
"I'm so sorry," a familiar voice said.
Spencer looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief. Standing in front of him was Y/N, his childhood friend from high school. Memories flooded back as he took in her familiar face, though older and more mature than he remembered.
"Y/N?" Spencer stammered, his voice laced with shock.
"Is that really you?" he continued, his eyes scanning her face for confirmation.
She smiled, her eyes shining with recognition and surprise. "Wow, Spencer Reid. I never thought I'd see you here in Quantico."
"It's been years," Spencer replied, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.
Before he could say anything more, Y/N stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Spencer hesitated for a moment, his touch aversion making him uncomfortable, but he found himself wrapping his arms around her in return.
The team, who had been watching the interaction from a distance, exchanged confused glances. They had no idea that Spencer and Y/N knew each other.
"Is everything okay here?" Hotch, the BAU's unit chief, asked, stepping forward with a stern expression.
"Yeah, we're just... catching up," Spencer explained, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
As they pulled apart, Y/N's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "Spencer, someone's been following me. I think I'm being stalked."
Spencer's eyes widened in concern. "We'll handle it," he assured her, his voice firm.
The team gathered in the briefing room, reviewing the details of Y/N's case. The stalker had been sending her anonymous gifts and messages and had even been spotted near her home.
"We need to catch this guy before he escalates," Morgan said, his voice filled with determination.
"I agree," Hotch replied. "Reid, you'll stay with Y/N to ensure her safety."
Spencer nodded, his mind already racing with the details of the case. As he and Y/N left the BAU office, he couldn't help but feel nervous and flustered around her, his usual calm and composed demeanor faltering.
Over the next few days, Spencer and Y/N spent a lot of time together, trying to piece together clues about the stalker. Despite the seriousness of the situation, they found moments of comfort and familiarity in each other's company, reminiscing about their high school days and catching up on lost time.
One evening, as they were going over the case files in Y/N's house, Spencer found himself lost in thought, staring at Y/N's face as she concentrated on the documents spread out before them.
"Y/N, I..." Spencer started, his voice faltering.
She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "What is it, Spencer?"
"I just... I never thought I'd see you again, let alone like this," he admitted, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.
Y/N smiled, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "Life has a funny way of bringing people back together," she said softly.
As they continued to work on the case, Spencer realized that his feelings for Y/N had never truly faded; they had simply been buried beneath years of separation and missed opportunities. He found himself hoping that once the stalker was caught and the case was closed, they would have a chance to explore the connection that had unexpectedly rekindled between them.
The days turned into weeks, and with the combined efforts of the BAU and local law enforcement, the stalker was finally apprehended. As Spencer and Y/N said their goodbyes, both promising to keep in touch, he knew that this was just the beginning of their story.
Standing in the hallway of the Quantico FBI building, Spencer took Y/N's hand, pulling her into a gentle embrace. This time, there was no hesitation, no discomfort—just the undeniable realization that sometimes, life gives you a second chance to reconnect with the people who matter most.
And as they parted ways, both Spencer and Y/N knew that they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives—one filled with hope, promise, and the possibility of a love that had been a long time coming.
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renoed · 11 months
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wound too tight | h. brown
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❥ — PAIRING hobie brown x gn! bassist! reader
❥ — SUMMARY you and your neighbour are the loudest people in your apartment building - drowning out the sound of each other's music with your own. You hadn't realised that your neighbour saw it less like a competition and more like a collaboration.
# A/N i keep seeing “drummer reader” this and “drummer reader” that so, as a fellow bassist, i’m giving us little guys some food
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Your neighbour did not like you.
Luckily for them, the feeling was mutual.
Whenever you had a spare second, you'd take the opportunity to grab your bass and unwind, pulling out a CD you had burnt with all the songs you could play. You had strong feelings about paying a subscription fee to listen to music without ads, so you opted for totally legal youtube to mp3 converters.
You had never really been a noisy neighbour, keeping your amp as quiet as possible and stopping as soon as you knew people would be going to bed. Generally, the people that knew you in the building were fond of you.
So when the old lady in the flat next to you moved out, needing to live with family for the support, and a young man your age turned up, guitar case slung over his shoulder, you were curious. Eager to be friends, even.
The first week was quiet. There was an occasional clatter on the wall that connected your flats, but other than that you could've forgotten your old neighbour had even left. You occasionally saw him entering his apartment as you left, or vice versa, and he'd spare you a momentary glance as you offered a smile. A little rude, in your opinion, but not uncommon.
After that first week, your curiosity had died down and you had been following your regular routine, sifting through your CDs. You had one with a specific set of songs and you couldn't find it anywhere. After an hour, you had turned your entire apartment upside down to no avail and frowned at your own mess. You'd clean it up later.
Not bothering with a CD, you plugged it into your amp and checked the tuning of your bass, instinctively playing the familiar bassline of Boys Don't Cry - it had become habit for it to be the first thing you played, having been the first song you learnt.
What you didn't expect was, hardly five minutes later, an incredibly loud guitar strum to echo throughout your flat, barely muffled by your neighbour's walls. You listened in (not really having a choice due to it's volume) and recognised that he was playing a song you knew; one of the ones you had on that missing CD. It was a favourite of yours.
Biting the inside of your cheek you listened to him finish the first verse, aware that you couldn't practice with him making so much noise. When he reached the chorus, however, you used your foot to bump up the volume of your amp and play along, hoping that he could hear you (and that he was smart enough to realise he had been disturbing your practice).
It carried on like that for at least an hour, both of you gradually increasing the volume in an attempt to overpower the other.
When you finished, you immediately felt guilty for being an annoyance to just about everyone else in the building. You'd apologise for the disturbance the next morning.
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That morning, you made a quick trip to your local cornershop, buying some baking ingredients so you could apologise with more than just a promise not to get carried away again.
None of your neighbours disliked you, easily accepting the apology and baked goods when you sputtered out an explanation for all the noise. A couple of them even invited you in for a cup of tea, which was always welcome.
"That boy," the middle aged woman across from you leaned closer, a devious glint in her eyes, "the one that just moved in, are you friends?"
"Uh, no," you tilted your head to the side, feeling like you were 17 again and being questioned by aunts about 'when will you bring someone home?', "we haven't even spoken, actually."
"Oh," you watched her deflated, "that's boring. I thought you two would've been fast friends."
It was difficult not to laugh at her lack of subtlety and you took it as a sign to leave before you had to dodge any more questions. Maybe in another universe she was a pestering aunt - you didn't think you'd hate that.
As you walked across the hall to your apartment, you noticed your neighbour was leaving, no guitar in sight.
You caught eyes momentarily before letting unlocking your door. As you made your way inside, you couldn't help feeling like there were still eyes on you.
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This became a frequent routine - you'd practice bass, only to get interrupted by your lovely, polite neighbour deciding he wanted to play guitar whenever you didn't want him to, and a war over who could play louder would ensue.
It would've been funny the first time, but it was causing you to lose enjoyment out of practicing and a significant portion of your paycheck was being spent on ingrediants that you didn't even get to enjoy the results of. You were certain that the patience of your other neighbours were running thin, too.
So, like any normal person would, you began waiting for the familiar click of your neighbour's door closing before you even thought about touching your bass. The door, for whatever reason, had always been a sound you could hear from your apartment - you'd mostly tuned it out but now it proved vital in letting you practice bass in peace. And it worked.
For all of two days.
The last thing you expected when walking past your neighbour on the stairs was for him to reach out and grab your arm, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were calloused, undoubtedly from guitar, but soft on your skin.
The contact made you turn to face him and you both stood like that for, what felt like, minutes. Just looking at each other. You hadn't noticed all his piercings. You hadn't noticed that he was as attractive as he was irritating.
"You the bassist?"
His words took you by surprise. Obviously he knew it was you - you didn't live with anyone, so there couldn't be multiple suspects.
"Yeah, I am."
His face broke out into a smile, grip tightening so he could pull you into him, slinging an arm over your shoulders. He smelt of aftershave and what you could only think to describe as an old library.
Since he had moved in, a word hadn't been spoken between you - a smile hadn't been shared. Now he'd nestled you under his arm, after just one admission from you.
"Mate," he was buzzing, "you are the sickest bassist I think I've ever heard. Every time you play I gotta join in, you're jus' too good!"
All ill-will towards the man melted away at his words: he was just joining in. It was cute, almost.
"Thanks," you offered, "I hadn't realised that's what you were doing, to be honest."
He didn't respond, catching sight of the plastic corner-shop bag in your hands. Flour, eggs, sugar, chocolate chips. Today you were making chocolate-chip muffins, it was one of the bakery recipes left in your cook book that you hadn't tried yet.
"You baking?"
"For the neighbours-"
"For me?" his smile only brightened, unintentionally leaning closer to you, "What's the occa-"
"To apologise for someone's noise," you shot back, not missing a beat. The statement had paused him in his tracks, lips pursed together and arm dropping away from you. It felt like you were missing something as he pulled away. If you didnt know better, you would've thought he hadn't even spared a second thought to your neighbours, or the volume of his amp.
"Hadn't really thought about that, I guess."
He'd proven you wrong; you didn't know better.
With the lull in conversation at his statement, you took a step away from him, offering your sweetest smile as you outstretched your arm with the bag, "I think I'm overdue some help, don't you?"
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reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡ [part two, three | masterlist]
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iluvzaddies · 8 months
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meine liebe, mein leben
pairing: könig x wife!reader
warnings: pregnancy
summary: after spending months on the battlefield, könig comes home to find you with a swollen tummy.
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könig couldn’t wait to get home to you, his beloved wife. his love, his life. he had been dying to see you, hold you, kiss you and make love to you again throughout the entirety of his mission.
he kept a polaroid of you in his pocket, in case he felt down or if he missed you. seeing your face always made his day better. and whilst he kept a polaroid of you, a heart-shaped locket with a tiny photo of him inside adorned your neck. it was old school and cute.
he was glad you were willing to stay by his side, despite knowing he was in the military and that he would always get deployed. he hated leaving you, but you reassured him about it, saying it was his job.
after what felt like a decade; staying in a town turned into a war zone, keeping civilians safe and protecting them from terrorists, he could finally go home.
on his way home, he felt giddy.
he didn’t notify you of the news because he wanted to surprise you. were you cooking or cleaning right now? should he surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist? he could imagine your reaction. you would scream at first, thinking it was an intruder, but when you realized it was just your dear husband, you would hug him so tight he could barely breathe.
he opened his and your house with a spare key. unlocking the door, he stepped in and was greeted with a great silence. you weren’t vacuuming the living room, you weren’t cooking in the kitchen, you weren’t eating something in the dining room. he felt slightly disappointed the surprise didn’t turn out like what he imagined in his head, but oh well, you were probably sleeping in the bedroom.
so he headed towards the bedroom and there you were, sleeping soundly on the king-sized bed.
he dropped his gear onto the ground, including his helmet and mask, slowly getting on the bed.
“i’m home.” he whispered into your ear, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.
you only hummed in response.
he chuckled.
“(y/n)… meine liebe… i’ve returned.”
you scrunched your face, eyes opening. you were met with the sight of your husband’s handsome face – which you had the privilege of seeing all the time – hovering above your own.
“könig?”
“ja, i’m here. i’m home.”
your eyes widened and you abruptly sat up.
“könig.” you repeated as if you couldn’t believe your eyes. you reached out to touch his cheek, moving your thumb up and down in a slow motion.
you missed him so much. so very much. every single day, you thought about him, if he was doing alright, when he would return, etcetera.
as tears began to well up in your eyes, könig, the ever so loving husband, began to worry and asked, “what’s the matter, meine liebe?”
“i’m just glad you’re home and safe.” you sniffled. “we wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
könig was confused.
“we?” he pointed out.
you nodded. you took his hand, guiding it to your belly, where your child resided.
“y–you’re pregnant?” his eyes looked like they were about to pop out and his jaw about to hit the floor.
“yes.”
“how…” he trailed off, staring at your evident baby bump.
“how far along am i? four months. that’s how long you’ve been gone.” you caressed your belly.
you were worried for a second, thinking he didn’t want a child, but your worries washed away when he pulled you in for a hug and a kiss.
“my baby is having a baby!” he exclaimed excitedly. “i’m gonna be a father!” he was overjoyed with happiness. never did he ever see himself marrying someone and having a baby with them, but look at him now. he was a husband and a father.
you sighed in relief. “i thought you were upset. i was worried for a sec.”
“worried? why?” he was taken aback by your words. he grabbed both of your hands, pulling them towards his face and placing a gentle peck on them. “this is the best moment of my life. i would never be upset about this. you’re my love, my life. meine liebe, mein leben.”
“you’re my love and life too.”
after saying that, you shared one last kiss before dozing off in each other’s arms.
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gloomygumi · 7 months
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quirks - satoru gojo x gn!reader
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summary: part two︱you like to think you’re aware of all of satoru’s quirks, but shoko thinks you may have missed a few.
contents: fluff, newly realised feelings, highschool!gojo, he's honestly not even actually there for a lot of it, shoko and geto are tho, honestly a little bit of whipped gojo, probably ooc but definitely self indulgent
word count: 1.2k
a/n: how are we coping since 236 guys ????? wrote this feeling like i’d been widowed so i guess this counts as my coping mechanism 😭 hope you enjoy anyway, constructive criticism and any ideas or opinions you have are always welcome !!
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in your past year of knowing satoru gojo, you’d made a note of his multiple quirks.
you noticed how when the group of second years went out to eat together at the weekends, he would whine about how good everyone else’s food looks until everyone at the table took pity (or annoyance, in suguru’s case) and spooned some of their meal onto his plate.
you noticed how when he was in class, listening to yaga drone on about the different types of curses, he would never let all of the legs of his chair rest on the ground. he was constantly swinging back and forth. it’s a miracle that he’s never fallen back, you think.
you even noticed how he somehow kept a momento from every single hangout and mission, each of them stored in a little wooden box he kept on his bedside table back in the dorms. in the past, you’d seen him slide seemingly worthless ticket stubs and receipts into his pockets, and when the curiosity finally got the better of you and you asked what he did with them, you only received a cheeky grin and a wink from your friend.
so, when shoko finally told you some of her own observations of his behaviours and habits during your lunch break one day, it’s safe to say it shocked you.
“i think it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.” she speaks casually, as if her words hadn’t caused you to choke on your own food. she passes you her bottle of water and pats your back. “you couldn’t tell?”
after gulping down half of her water, and spluttering a few times, you finally found your voice, letting out a strangled “he’s my friend - he does not like me like that!”
the look shoko gives you is one of ridicule, but before she can say anything else, you quickly continue.
“how’d you even come to that conclusion anyway, you’re not usually much of a gossip. that’s suguru’s job." you attempt to joke, but you feel the strained smile drop from your face as the boy you mentioned approaches the table and plops down beside your friend.
speak of the devil...
you see shoko's eyes light up, but before you can even attempt to cut her off again, she turns to suguru. "geto! back me up here, isn't it so obvious that gojo likes (y/n)?"
"mhm." he hums, barely even acknowledging the fact that his confirmation has sent you spiraling for the second time. "he's not exactly subtle about it."
"you guys are being ridiculous."
now it's suguru's turn to look at you like you've suddenly grown two heads. "you really didn't know?"
shoko lets out a laugh at his genuine confusion, and reaches into her bag to pull out a cigarette. you quickly hand her a lighter you keep on hand just for moments like this and she quietly thanks you before continuing. "have you never noticed how he's always touching you in some way?"
"that's just how he is!" you defend. "he's always hanging off of suguru too!"
the pair in front of you share a look, before geto continues. "what about how he never lets you walk closest to the road?"
you stop for a second, trying to pinpoint an occasion - just one - where he had only to come up empty handed. in fact, the more you think about it, the more sense it makes. you replay your moments walking back to the dorms after class with satoru, with his arm always casually wrapped around your shoulder. you remember how he always looked comfortable and at peace. you even remember how he would gently bump you closer into the sidewalk if you were walking with someone else, sticking his tongue out at you and ruffling your hair if you voiced a complaint at his behaviour.
your mouth dries up as you try to come up with another excuse to brush off your friends' observations, but you start to question yourself.
maybe they're right...?
you shake you head, as if trying to clear your head of these thought. "he does that for everyone, you guys are just reading too much into it."
between drags of her cigarette, shoko chuckles. "he's never done it for me." geto leans forward from his seat across from you and gently flicks in between your eyebrows. your hand immediately clamps down on the spot, and you groan at him. "what was that for!?"
he ignores your dramatics. "why are you so sure that we're lying?"
his genuine question makes you stop to think. it wasn't that you didn't like gojo, in fact, you hadn't dedicated much time to thinking about him in that way at all. your friends being so insistent on the fact that he liked you made you slowly start to realise that maybe you did share some affections for the ill mannered boy.
you continue to mull over as many interactions and memories that you have shared with satoru, slowly connecting the dots in your head. he always was more gentle with you, never polite but always kind. he regularly brought you souvenirs back from missions that you weren't assigned to and he always insisted on sitting next to you on the train home, offering you the window seat every single time.
almost as if they can hear your inner monologue being to spiral, shoko pipes up once more. "he gave you a different ring tone so he'd know every time you call."
you feel your heart stop for a second, unsure as to why this in particular made you finally believe their words, but before you even have the opportunity to dismiss them again (now in an attempt to convince yourself more than them) you feel the seat beside you sink with additional weight and a familiar arm flung around your shoulder. you barely even register the smug smile shoko is flashing you from across the table as you focus on attempting to cool your face.
"i can't believe you guys started eating without me!" satoru whines, leaning even more heavily into your side. he makes quick work of plucking a large chunk of meat out of your bento, sending you a sly grin as you look up at him in dismay. "what were you guys talkin' about?"
suguru meets your eyes, raising his eyebrows as he meets your glare, urging him to shut his mouth. "oh nothing." he hums, before completely changing the subject.
the conversation from moments prior is still fresh in your mind, and you're now very aware of the soft glances gojo keeps sending your way. you suddenly feel a lot more awkward in his presence, and you barely notice how you're fidgeting with your hands under the table and not participating in the conversation anymore.
that is until you feel warm hands grip your own, effectively halting their movement. "you okay?" you can barely hear satoru over the blood pumping in your ears, and you're unaware of the laughs shoko and geto are trying desperately to hold back whilst watching the scene as you try to speak.
you start to wish your friends had kept their observations to themselves.
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3K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 6 months
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everybody talks
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pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!
words: almost 7.7k
notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!
i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤
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The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles. 
When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.
You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended. 
The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.
Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.
Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.
That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon. 
You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section. 
You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.
You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.
Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim. 
Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.
He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.
“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.
He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.
You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.
“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward. 
You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure. 
And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.
Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too. 
They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.
Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.
You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get. 
As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.
The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.
You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there. 
He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.
“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”
“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen. 
His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned. 
You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.
You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you. 
You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”
He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.
Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess. 
The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.
You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.
The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.
It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.
“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.
He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”
Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.
You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.
You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”
You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.
He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.
You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.
For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more. 
He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.
“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.
He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”
“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”
“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.
“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.
“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”
“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.
His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.
Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.
“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.
Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.
“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”
The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.
You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.
You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.
Grumpy. 
That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.
This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.
Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume. 
At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together. 
You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.
You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.
It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.
As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house. 
“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.
As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”
You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”
“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”
“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”
“No.” she responded flatly.
“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”
“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.
“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”
She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together. 
“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.
It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights. 
Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house. 
The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen. 
Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.
The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt. 
He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.
He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past. 
And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.
Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.
He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again. 
So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.
As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too. 
But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.
Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.
Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.
But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.
Was someone actually coming up the porch?
He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.
“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”
“No.”
“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”
“Everyday,” she replied.
“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.
“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.
You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.
“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”
“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.
“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”
Her reluctant nod was your answer.
“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.
Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.
You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.
Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback. 
Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.
Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him. 
He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.
“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.
Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.
“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.
“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.
“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased. 
“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”
“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.
“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.
“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.
You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”
Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from  his left side.
You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh. 
You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.
Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess. 
Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.
“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.
“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.
“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.
“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.
“It,”
“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.
“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.
“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill. 
“I’m not just going to invite myself-”
“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”
You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.
You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky. 
You nodded.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”
“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid. 
“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.
“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.
“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.
“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.
What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.
She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”
“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”
“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”
It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.
“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.
“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”
You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself. 
“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”
“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”
Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.
“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”
“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”
There’s a pause before he continues,
“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”
You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.
“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now. 
“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”
“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”
“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”
“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled. 
You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did. 
The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.
Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.
Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless. 
Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.
You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.
He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.
As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer. 
You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.
“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.
“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”
“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.
“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.
You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically. 
It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed. 
“You get scared easily?” he asked.
“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.
You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.
The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.
Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.
He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,
“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.
Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”
His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another. 
You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.
His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.
His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.
You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves. 
“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.
“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.
You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.
He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs. 
You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”
That did nothing to ease your worry…
“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”
“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”
“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”
You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him. 
“Same page, then.”
“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you. 
His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips. 
His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you. 
You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off. 
While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.
He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.
His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.
You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core. 
When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.
You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.
As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower. 
You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.
He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved. 
His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit. 
He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.
“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance. 
“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit. 
“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.
“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.
“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”
The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted.  With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you cried.
“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”
One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.
“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock. 
Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end. 
With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more. 
You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.
He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.
“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.
His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”
“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.” 
He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.
“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.
Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 
“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”
Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.
You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
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3K notes · View notes
darl1ngpearl · 16 days
Text
Ditz ,
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authors note : miss me?
Warning !! : reader is female, reader is feminine, swearing, talks of sex, vulgar language used, hint of flirting between reader and dina, TINY mention of reader flirting with a teacher, possessive Ellie, oral fixation, face slapping (once), thigh riding, pantie stealing, eating out, fingering, nickname usage: sugar, pretty, babygirl (in a mocking manner), doll, sweet girl, angel, baby, sweetheart, ect.
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You were sat in class, positioned in the front corner along with your best friend, Dina. It was only 9 in the morning and you were already complaining to her about the poor taste you had in men and now women when it came to sleeping around.
“And I thought that a woman would be different! Like men are sooooo fucking stupid, none of them even know where the clit is Dina! Like, are you kidding me? How do you miss it?! One motherfucker starting rubbing my left lip thinking he was an expert!! He was all up in my ear like-“
You leant across the table to whisper in her ear, trying to suppress your giggles and ignoring the fact that your skirt rode a little too high due to its ridiculously short length. You whispered in her ear in a poorly attempted gruff voice and said,
“- That feel good babygirl?”
Dina burst out laughing, slamming her hands against the table in disbelieve,
“Shut the fuck up, oh my god!”
You sat back down and giggled with her before rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest, which led to your breasts almost falling out of your low cut top.
“And all i’m gonna say is, whoever said ‘big feet equals a big dick’ is a fucking liar!”
Dina let out a loud cackle, causing some of the other students to jump. You giggled once more, before slipping down further into your seat with a frown.
“But I really thought a woman would be different D!! I’m so disappointed”
You pouted and reached over the table to play with the loose strands of her hair that fell out her bun. Dina hummed and spoke,
“Awh sugar, I’m sure you’ll find someone who’s perfect at fucking you”
You both laugh and she lands a kiss on the wrist that hovered over her face, which caused you to give her a soft smile.
Just after, the teacher and the rest of the class came through into the classroom and made their way to their seats. Dina and you both pulled away from each other and pulled out your textbooks.
You sent a wink to the teacher as soon as she made eye contact with you, which caused her to pause momentarily. This made Dina and you to both giggle. Dina then lent over to you and whispered in your ear,
“She sooooo wants to get in your panties”
You snort and roll your eyes, gently shoving her away from you.
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The lesson went by too slow for your liking, nothing that was being taught peaked your interest. This was also evident in your grades. You were failing miserably, yet you didn’t care, you didn’t even try to pass.
You turned your focus from the board to look behind you, taking in everyone’s faces and humming a tune quietly to yourself. Then you met eyes with her.
Ellie fucking Williams, the most gorgeous woman you have ever seen in your life. You would more than happily give up your whole life just to sleep with her.
Yet, it seemed as if she couldn’t care less about you. You would often give her a sweet smile if you saw each other in the halls, or you would be polite and say hi to her if you bumped into each other in public, and that was fairly often due to you both staying in campus in the small town it was located in. Yet she would never give something nice back in return. She would always scoff at you, roll her eyes or look at you like you just smeared shit all over her. Saying it upset you was an understatement, your face would always drop, and in most cases, your eyes would even well with tears. You couldn’t understand why she was so mean.
You gave her a soft smile when you both met eyes, yet all she did was turn her attention back to the teacher. This caused a pout to form on your lips and your posture slumped.
Dina noticed and patted your thigh,
“Don’t waste your time on her pretty, it’s not worth it”
You sigh and rest your head on her shoulder, watching as she drew soft circles on your thigh with her finger,
“She’s just so perfect D, ‘s not fair”
She hums and sighs, kissing the top of your head. Moments after, the bell had rung and students immediately jumped up from their seats and began to pack up, this included Dina and you.
As you placed your book into your bag, the teacher made her way over to your desk and stood in front of you. You looked up at her and she looked down at you with a stern expression.
“Your grades are a disgrace Y/N. Starting tonight Ellie Williams will be tutoring you, you’re lucky she volunteered to help or I’m afraid i would’ve had to kick out the class.”
“Ellie asked to help me?”
She frowned slightly at the response she was given, yet nodded her head.
“I asked my top students if they were able to free some time and tutor you. Ellie asked if she could do it as she has plenty of free time. To be quite frank, she shot up at the chance, the others didn’t get a chance to respond.”
You nodded your head and quickly turned to glance at Dina with a wide smile. Dina only giggled and rolled her eyes. You couldn’t believe it.
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Yet, the more you thought about it, the more you were confused. If Ellie hated you that much why did she jump to the opportunity of helping you? Was it to humiliate you?
You groaned and shoved your face further into your pillow.
It was an hour before Ellie was coming over to your dorm for your tutoring. You were so excited, yet so scared at the same time. You didn’t know what was going to happen and it worried you, the person who constantly stuck their nose up at you was coming over to your dorm to help you? It made no sense.
You whined and kicked your feet, in the act also kicking stuffies off of the end of your bed. You weren’t ready.
Literally, you weren’t ready.
There was a variety of things scattered across your room from the previous few days, creating a mess. You were still wearing your clothes from earlier, you hadn’t touched up your makeup, and you hadn’t even been bothered to find your school supplies that are well needed in order for you to be taught anything.
You slowly pulled yourself up with a groan and looked around your room, which made you groan even louder at the true state it was in. It didn’t look as messy as this earlier, so why does it look such a mess now?
You stood up and made your way over to your closet, tiptoeing over everything in your way. You began to strip down to your underwear and as you shimmied out of your mini skirt, the door knocked.
A loud gasp fell from your lips youand looked around frantically. Why is she here early ?!
In a panicked trance, you swung open the door and stood in front of Ellie in only your underwear.
She let out a choked scoff, before shoving you back further into your room and made her way in. She quickly shut the door and spun herself around.
“You must be fucking crazy. Do you answer the door to everyone like that?”
You shook your head quick, before realising she couldn’t even see you,
“No!! I just panicked! I was trying to get changed before you-”
She groans and cuts you off,
“Just get dressed, I don’t need to hear a whole story about it”
You huff and pout at her attitude. It made you think that she truly did ask to help you just to humiliate you.
You threw on an oversized hoodie that you had picked up from the floor and whilst you did so, Ellie took the time to look around your dorm room, taking in the complete mess and the immense amount of pink, which caused her to scoff.
You turned to look at her once you were decent, and watched as she mentally picked apart your room. It made you feel small, although she didn’t say anything, the look on her face was more than enough. She sighed and then turned to you,
“Do you even have what you need? Your guide? note book?”
You slowly shook your head and rushed forward to your desk, reaching into your draws to pull out various books.
Ellie stood behind you, staring straight ahead at the clear view she had of your ass and more. She couldn’t take her eyes off, she was mesmerised. She knew she shouldn’t stare, but maybe it was the way that your pastel blue thong perfectly outlined your cunt, or maybe it was the perfect amount of fat on your ass. As you stood up straight, she quickly turned to look at something else, her eyes landing on panties that were left discarded on the floor, which caused her to tug her bottom lip under her teeth.
You threw your books onto your bed and sat down, looking up at Ellie. You spoke in a small voice,
“You can sit”
She nods and sits on your bed facing you, she sits on top of your stuffies and you had to hold back the urge not to yank her off of them. She saw your face twist the moment she sat and she frowned,
“What?”
“Nothing nothing. It’s just that… you’re sat on my stuffies”
She rolled her eyes and pulled her glasses out from her pocket. She put them on and adjusted them so they rested comfortably on her nose. After, she opened the books that sat infront of her, scanning your notes that were kept to an extreme minimal, she could tell you didn’t care just through how scruffy some of your notes were.
You played with your sleeves and watched her as she flicked through the book with a disapproving scowl.
“Your notes are shit Y/N, how do you even understand them?”
She glanced up at you over her glasses and you began to gnaw at your bottom lip.
“Um… I don’t?”
She looked back down to your book in silence and began to make edits to your notes. You watched as she wrote in your book and drew arrows to certain words, in hopes to make it more understandable for you.
“Ellie I can’t even see”
“Shut up”
You grumbled and sent her a glare that she didn’t even acknowledge. You crossed your arms over your chest and continued to watch her make notes.
You kept silent for a few moments, before deciding to speak once more,
“Aren’t you meant to be teaching me? Yknow, with words?”
“Y/N, can you shut up?”
You rolled your eyes and layed back against your headboard, not even bothering to tug your hoodie down to cover yourself.
“Sit up”
She spoke to you without even looking up from the book, she continued to write and in all honesty, it pissed you off.
Why is she sitting there and acting like she has been forced into tutoring you? It seriously made no sense to you.
“Why should I if I can’t even see? And if you won’t even teach me anything?”
That’s what caused her to look up. Her eyes were met with your cunt, before she quickly averted her gaze up to your face. She glared at you before grabbing your legs and pulling you towards her. Your hoodie road up past your waist, and she acted like she couldn’t care less. In reality, her heart was pounding. She then lifted you up by your waist and effortlessly positioned you on her lap.
“Better now?”
You nodded your head and went silent, your face was beet red and you were trying to get grasps of what just happened. Ellie acted like it was nothing and she continued making notes in your book. In order for her to see, she placed the book in your lap, her arms around your waist and she rested her chin against your shoulder.
You read through the notes she had made and somehow, you understood it all. Your eyes shifted from the notes to her hands. she had rough hands, and it was clear she often bit her nails due to how scuffed they were.
Her slender fingers were decorated in chunky rings that wrapped just perfectly around her digits. You traced over every vein with your eyes and your mouth fell agape at just how mesmerising they truly were.
“Y/N, are you listening?”
You quickly snapped out of your trance and nodded your head.
“Alright then, what did I just say?”
“Uhm… C equals two?”
She groans loud, directly into your ear, before lifting her hand from the notebook to flick your forehead.
“No.”
“Ow, Ellie!”
You whine and massage the area she had flicked.
“Y equals two. You divide Y by X, which gives you zero point zero two, and then you would divide that by C, which would give you the answer of two. Meaning, your answer would be 100, as C would equal 100. Understand?”
You let out a fake cry, dropping your head into your hands.
“I give up. I hate this and it is way too difficult!”
“Y/N, this is basic maths. It’s not hard to understand. If you hate it, what was the point in choosing it as a course?”
“Because Dina wanted to do math! And I just followed her because I didn’t want to do a course with strangers in!”
“Have you ever heard of making friends? Or does your small ass brain not understand what that is either.”
You span around on her lap, kicking her in her ribs in the process, to scowl at her.
“I do understand what that is, thank you very much smart ass. Every time I try to make friends with someone new, they just think I want to get into their pants!”
“Well i’m not surprised, have you even acknowledged how you talk to everyone? Let’s use me as an example. You bat your eyelashes at me with each word that comes out of your mouth, you will stare at me with eyes wide as fuck, you’re constantly trying to touch me, not to mention you following me around like a lost lamb all because you want to say hi. You bite your lip whenever I mutter a word, and you prantz around the whole college wearing skimpy little outfits. Of course everyone thinks that you want to fuck them.”
Your face scrunched up more and more with each word she said,
“That is not true.”
“Yes it is Y/N. You even do it to the teacher, the whole class could say the exact same, it’s so fucking evident.”
“Are you done obliterating me? Or do you want to continue?”
she scoffs directly into your face and crosses her arms over her chest,
“Obliterating you? You really are stupid. I am not doing such thing, I am just stating the obvious doll”
Heat rose to your cheeks, either from embarrassment, or from what she had just called you, maybe it was from both.
Ellie ran a hand through her hair, a puff of air falling from her lips. Her eyes scanned your figure up and down before she spoke once more,
“You really get on my nerves, you know that?”
“If i am reallyyyyy on your nerves, then why did you volunteer to help me? Matter of fact, why did you jump to the opportunity, not even giving anyone else the chance to volunteer, huh?”
“Watch your fucking tone when you’re talking to me.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. Answer the question, Ellie.”
She grabbed your face, smushing your cheeks in between her fingers and thumb, as she pulled you closer. Her face was inches away from yours, she could feel her hot breath fanning against your face.
“I said, watch your fucking tone when talking to me.”
Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your face was beyond red and you could feel beads of sweat beginning to build on the back of your neck.
Ellie was pissed off, and it was clearly obvious. You didn’t dare speak up, let alone move. You didn’t want to piss her off even more, if anything, you wished she would leave so you could hide away in your room and never step foot outside these four walls ever again, to slowly wallow away in your own embarrassment.
The both of you were frozen in the same position for what felt like hours, with one of her hands squeezing your face together, and the other that had wrapped around your waist without you realising. She was staring directly into your eyes, and you stared right back into hers.
After some time, she had let go of your face, and leant back against your headboard. Both of her hands were now holding your waist, her eyes still glued to yours. She licked her lips and hummed, eyeing you up and down once again, before she spoke,
“You want me to tell you why I volunteered to tutor you?”
You nodded your head, not finding the courage to speak up.
“You drive me fucking crazy Y/N, like beyond fucking crazy. The way you talk to everyone makes me feel insane, because you should only be talking to me like that. You shouldn’t be batting your eyelashes at anyone but me, you shouldn’t be chasing anyone else around but me.”
You frowned at what had just came out her mouth. You thought that she hated you, You thought that she couldn’t stand being anywhere near you.
She continued to speak, despite the clear confusion displayed on your face.
“I want you all to myself. I don’t want you near any man, or any other woman, especially if they don’t know you to treat and please you. Even seeing you flirt with Dina during class is too much. Only I can please you Y/N, everyone else is fucked for not knowing how to treat such a perfect girl like you.”
“Ellie… I don’t understand. You seem so disgusted every time i’m near you. Please don’t be playing a prank on me, it’s not funny.”
She sighs and strokes your hair, curling it around her index and middle finger. You had to fight everything back not to lean into her hand.
“I’m not pranking you sweet girl, I may be mean but I am not that mean.”
You went to speak but before any sound could pass your lips, she cut you off.
“Before you had slept with Riley, I thought you were only interested in men. So, I tried to stay as far from you as I could to stop myself from becoming more and more infatuated with you. I was, and still am, totally fucking obsessed with you. I would ignore you and brush you off because each time you would latch onto my arm, or try to talk to me, I would become so frustrated with the thought that only a man could have the absolute pleasure of dating you, Y/N. I wasn’t mad at you, I was mad at the missed opportunity. Although, as soon as Riley had told me she had slept with you, I knew that I had a chance. It felt like fate when on the same day, our teacher had asked if anyone could tutor you, so of course I had jump to the opportunity baby”
You nodded your head slowly, trying to get a grasp of everything she had just told you, before scrunching up your face once more.
She groans at your reaction,
“You’re such a fucking ditz.”
“Ellie shut up”
She chuckles and pulls you forward, so your body is flush against her chest. She looks down at you, and traces her thumb across your bottom lip.
Without thinking, you had wrapped your lips around the tip of her thumb and slowly swiped your tongue across it. Ellie groaned at the sight and had bucked her hips up, the cold, metal button on her jeans bumping into your clothed clit.
You let out a whine at the sensation, which had caused Ellie to smirk.
She pushed her thumb further into your mouth, until your lips were wrapped around the base. She admired you for some time, watching your face intently, before she pulled her phone from her back pocket and snapped a picture you.
You looked at her with eyes wide, in disbelief. All she did was laugh at your reaction. She then shifted and positioned you on her thigh, still keeping her thumb in your mouth.
“Cmon princess, ride it”
“W-what?”
“You heard me loud and clear. I know you can do it baby”
You nodded your head, looking down at her thigh, unable to maintain eye contact. However, Ellie didn’t like that, as soon as you averted your gaze, she pulled her thumb from your mouth and placed a firm slap on your cheek, which pulled a loud yelp from your lips.
“Eyes on me Y/N. Where’s all that confidence gone, hm?”
She spoke as she caressed your cheek, eyeing the red splotchy mark that began to form.
Ellie hummed as you looked back into her eyes. You slowly began to rock your hips back and forth against her thigh, biting down on your bottom lip.
“That’s my good girl”
You blushed at her words, and continued to grind your hips into her. Ellie’s hands had found their way back to your hips, and she pushed you down further into the strong muscle in between your thighs. The feeling of her rough jeans against your sensitive clit felt like bliss.
Quickly, with the added force from Ellie, moans and breathy whines fell from your lips.
Ellie felt like she was in heaven. Listening to the sounds that came from you, and watching you pathetically grind against her felt unreal. She kept thinking about how bizarre it was that she was now in this position, but god, she was not going to complain, not even once.
“Ellieeeee, ‘s not enoughhh”
She frowns, and holds you still with a firm grasp on your hips,
“Not enough?”
You lent forward, until your face was milimetres away from hers, and you shook your head. You spoke to her, sounding breathless,
“Need more…”
You glanced down at her lips, before looking back into her eyes. Ellie chuckled and licked her lips,
“What a greedy girl”
You hummed and pressed your lips against hers. A small kiss very quickly turned into a heavy make-out session. You wrapped your hands behind her neck, and pulled her closer to you, smashing your lips into hers. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and you shoved your tongue into her mouth.
Ellie’s fingers dug into your hips, so much so that when she moved her hands behind to your ass, there were nail marks shaped as crescent moons left littered in your hips. She started to grind you into her thigh once more, whilst keeping up with the sloppy make-out.
Ellie groaned into the kiss as she felt it growing more and more sloppy. There was drool forming in the corners of your mouth, that slowly started to drip down your chin, and you began to pant into the kiss.
Ellie’s hand slivered from your ass, to your clothed cunt. She started to rub slow circles against your clit through your panties, which caused you to whimper and bite down on her bottom lip, making Ellie hiss.
You pulled away from the kiss, and you looked like a wreck. There was drool all down your chin, your lips were swollen, and there was tears brimming your eyes. Your eyebrows were scrunched together, and your eyes were half lidded.
“Please go faster els, pretty pleaseee”
She stopped rubbing circles against your clit and cocked her head to the side,
“What if I don’t want to, hm? Then what princess?”
You let out a cry and looked at her with the best pleading look you could give,
“I said please though Ellie”
She laughs directly into your face, which caused you to huff. You slapped her chest and turned your head away,
“You’re mean.”
“I agree doll”
“Good, you should”
In an instant, Ellie had shoved you down onto the bed, and she was now hovering over you,
“Yeah? I should?”
You looked up her and nodded your head. She smirked at you, and brushed away the stray hairs that were sticking to your forehead.
“You’re so beautiful”
You smiled at the compliment, whilst pulling her pelvis into yours with your thighs. You tangled your fingers in her hair and tugged her closer, so your face was once again millimetres away from hers.
“You’re so perfect els”
She pecks your lips and hums,
“Yeah baby? You think so?”
“I know so”
Ellie chuckles, before prying your thighs off her hips. She shuffles her way down the bed, and stops just as her face aligns with your clothed cunt.
The feeling of her hot breath hitting your clit made you shudder and close your thighs around her head. She laughs and pushes your hoodie upto your waist,
“Oh sweetheart, i’ve not even started yet and you’re already acting like this?”
You fake a cry and grab a fistful of the bedsheets,
“Please Ellie”
Ellie places a kiss onto your clothed clit, before she pulls down your panties. unbeknownst to you, she had shoved the pair of panties into her back pocket. Ellie then placed another kiss onto your clit, which ripped a whine from your throat.
Ellie wasted no time, her head drove straight into your cunt and she started to lap up your clit, sucking and licking it like it was her last meal. Your head fell back, and a string of curses fell from your mouth.
“Fuck, Ellie!”
She hums and trails her tongue down further, before she began to bully her tongue into your cunt. She was sloppy with it, her movements were fast yet uneven. Not that she cared, she knew you were enjoying it, It was quite obvious.
Your legs were already twitching, you kept lifting your hips into her face, there was not a second where you were quiet, either you were moaning, or you were cursing.
Ellie’s chin was dripping with a mix of your juices, and her saliva. She felt as if she could eat you out for the rest of her life, and she would never get bored, not even for a second.
Your thighs tightened around her head, and you kept clenching around Ellie’s tongue.
Ellie couldn’t believe you were going to cum this early, she’s only just started. Just as your moans grew louder, Ellie pulled away.
“W-what the fuck Ellie!”
You lifted your head to look at her, with a frown painted across your face. She looked at you with a smile, before she licked her lips.
“You taste so good baby”
You huff and throw your head back onto the bed. Did she think you already came? Was that it?
Ellie could tell you were deep in thought, And by the pout on your lips, and your glassy eyes, she could tell it wasn’t good.
“Oh, you think i’m done?”
She cocks one of her eyebrows up, and stares at you, waiting for a response.
“Well it looks like it.”
She rolls her eyes and slaps your cunt, making you yelp and arch your back.
“Ow!!”
“Don’t think so low of me again.”
Ellie’s tongue dove straight back into your cunt, whilst she toyed with your clit using her thumb.
In an instant, moans and chants of Ellie’s name fell from your mouth once again.
You needed Ellie closer, if that was even possible. So, you placed your legs over her shoulders, and pulled her closer by a fistful of her hair.
Ellie let out a loud groan at the stinging sensation running through her scalp, that had vibrated against your cunt. You were a lot stronger than she had thought.
Ellie latched her lips around your clit once more, and without a warning she shoved two fingers into your cunt. She nipped at your clit with her teeth, and with a fast pace she plunged her fingers in and out of your hole.
You were even messier than before. Tears were streaming down your face, your mascara clumping underneath your eyes. Drool was spilling from the corner of your mouth, once again. Your forehead was dripping with sweat. Your back was arched, and your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were pulling on Ellie’s hair.
You had never felt this good. Never with anyone before, You couldn’t even make yourself feel this good. You were that blissed out you thought you were about to pass out.
“E-Ellie I need to cum!”
Instead of answering, Ellie continued to bully your cunt and clit with her fingers and tongue.
You could hear her slurping up the juices that kept spilling from your cunt, and the sound of her fingers pulling in and out.
Then, with a curl of her fingers that brushed against that one spongey spot, you had came all over Ellie’s face with a squeal.
Ellie’s pace began to slow once you rode out your high. She had then pulled away from your cunt, and looked up at your wrecked state.
You were panting heavily, your eyes were shut and your legs continued to twitch.
Ellie pulled her phone from her pocket, and snapped another picture of you. Before she leant down and kissed your forehead.
“Good girl baby, you did so well. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
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urhoneycombwitch · 19 days
Text
my baby puts his mouth on me
foreword: okay this is kind of written as a bonus scene for i know what they call you bc that version of reader deals with being quiet, too! (not necessary to read that one first but does provide a bit of context as far as interpersonal setting.) sort-of AU that ignores most s4 events. anon request can b found here 💖
wc: 2.2k
cw: discussions of college, shy!reader, oral + fingering (R receiving), R has breasts and a V, weed usage, softdom!Eddie, shifting POV a bit soz 
___
Somewhere between Eddie’s late nights at band rehearsal and your early morning diner shifts, you’ve both been too exhausted to properly fuck when you do see each other, barely time for a spare handjob in the past week. You’re crawling out of your skin by the weekend, missing and craving Eddie in equal measure.
So when your Saturday off happens to line up with his, Eddie makes an afternoon of it- picnic lunch on the shore of Lover’s Lake, lazing around in the August sun while your food settles, then stripping down to your underclothes (even though the spot Eddie scored was totally isolated, you’re still leery about skinny dipping) and cooling off with a quick dip in the lake.
You’re both sprawled out in the blanketed back of Eddie’s van, sun-warmed bodies pressed together, legs dangling out of the open rear door; smoke hangs hazy in the air from the joint being shared. 
“Almost end of summer,” Eddie says, nestling his nose into your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. He can’t look at you, dread unfurling in his stomach but needing to ask, to clear the air, to prepare in case this is one of the last times he gets to touch you like this- “Thinkin’ of going to any colleges?”
”Maybe.” One of your hands slides into Eddie’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp while the other lifts the joint to your lips for a long drag. “They love me at the diner and I make good tips, so I’ll prob’ly keep doing that. Can’t afford anything fancy, anyways- I’ll likely just go to Hawkins Community.”
You still haven’t told him the full story of the mall fire, yet- or about the underground world simmering beneath the surface. He never pushes you to share more than you’re comfortable, which you’re grateful for, but he knows something happened: something that paints your sleep with dark night terrors, something that causes you to slip in the middle of conversations, mind spiraling where he can’t follow. 
For reasons you can’t fully explain to Eddie, college is real low on your priority list- you’ve dedicated this summer to reconnecting with base instincts (weed and Pretty Boy being at the top of the list).
Meanwhile, Eddie tries to still the vibrant thrum of his heart at the news of you staying local, possibly for the next few years; he lifts his head to press his lips against your collarbone. “You should go to college. Jus’ try it out, at least. You’re certainly smart enough.”
“Mmm-” you hum around the joint, another inhale-exhale of smoke before murmuring, “So are you. For the record. We could apply to be nerds together, if you want-”
With a sharp gasp, your sentence drops out of midair when Eddie kisses over your nipple, already peaking through the thin material of your bra. In his hair, your grip tightens, and Eddie groans.
In one fluid movement, he props himself into his elbows on either side of your torso, bottom half of his weight pinning you in place, plucking the smoldering joint from your grasp to dampen it into a nearby ashtray.
“Gonna be my little student,” Eddie says, wet kisses trailing down your neck, flash of teeth making you squirm. “Get you some academic… skirts. The ones with the pleats. Maybe some stockings…”
“You’re so- oh, fuck- dirty…” It’s hard to keep the admonishment in your voice as Eddie noses between your thighs, bumping at your clit through the thin cover of high-cut cotton.
“Mm-hmm.” He seems pleased with the already-visible wet patch, your core leaking steadily as he burrows deeper, until all his senses are blacked-out with nothing but the sharp tang of your honeyed arousal- who needs weed. He could get high off your smell alone.
Eddie suckles at your throbbing clit, purring encouragement low in his throat when your hips jolt forward. “And you love it.”
He’s one deep inhale from being completely pussy-drunk, mouthing sloppily at the junction where thigh meets pelvis, nibble fingers toying at the band of your underwear. He slides them down and off your legs, and you let him, wiggling in anticipation against the pressure he’s keeping you pinned with.
“Could take an electrician course.” Well aware of how close to the wire this conversation is sliding, you let the crown of your head tip back, staring at the van’s ceiling, handfuls of the flannel floor blanket squeezed into fists as you try getting one last word in- “You’re good with your h- hands.”
Said hand is cupping your bare sex, warm and wide between the V of your legs, other hand pushing your thigh back to spread you wide, obscene and on display how Eddie likes; embarrassment blooms hot in your chest as he runs a finger through your folds, slick practically loud against the far-off backdrop of forest sounds.
“What was that about my hands?” He’s teasing now, can hear it in his voice even though you can’t see the lazy grin it’s paired with; a long middle finger breaches your entrance, wet warmth swallowing the length greedily.
Your eyes flutter shut, sighing. There will be a time for arguments again but right now, with a second finger addition and Eddie’s mouth working you up, there’s no room for speech.
On your end, at least- Eddie’s proven on multiple occasions to be a master at multitasking, talking you through it while managing your pleasure, and this afternoon is no exception. His fingers curl expertly into the gummy front wall of your cunt, mouth running every second it’s not latched on to your pulsing button, dirty talk smooth and easy in his low timbre.
“Yeah, honey, that’s it. Fuck, you’re so hot. Can feel you squeezin’ around my fingers, y’so tight, angel, shit… like that- there you go…”
Etcetera. Until he’s bullied his way completely into the cradle of your legs, lying flat on his stomach to get as close as possible; until your cunt is spasming around the push and pull of his fingers, wet dripping and pooling into his palm and down your ass to the blanket below.
There’s a familiar tightness coiling in your stomach, thighs bracing around Eddie’s ears in anticipation of the unraveling. A pleasure-soaked sob gets caught in your throat, dull whine escaping instead through clenched teeth, grip on the flannel doubling until your knuckles creak in protest.
“Hey.” 
There’s a confusing lack of authority or command in Eddie’s voice; you sift through the brain fog of arousal, propping your weight up into your elbows to look down at him.
Eddie looks crazy. Debauched. Lips pink and spit-soaked, chin shimmering, pupils blown out with lust as he presses a chaste kiss to the wiry curls at your mound. “Kinda quiet up there. Everything okay?”
His thumb sweeps a comforting path up the soft skin of your thigh, the abrupt switch from animal to gentleness making your head swim. He’s still looking at you with those puppy-brown eyes, fingers still buried to the hilt but unmoving; you stammer out an excuse.
“Um- yeah. M’sorry. It’s just been awhile, since you’ve had me… like this.”
It’s the truth; over the last busy week in your lives, time has eroded some of what Eddie’s been working on building with you, bravery at making noise faded with the lessened practice time.
“No one else out here, ‘cept you and me, sweetheart.” Eddie’s coaxing his fingers back into steady rhythm, watching your face carefully for any signs of withholding. “Can make as much noise as you want. Lemme hear. Please?”
Usually, Eddie’s not so soft- a sharp crack of palm to ass, flesh jiggling as he draws all the noises he wants from you- but here, in the back of the van, heady weed and warm sun an intoxicating mixture as he asks you to melt for him. 
You obey. Let the floor take your upper body’s weight again as you fuck yourself on his fingers, hips lifted and seeking release. His mouth seals over your clit again, tip of his tongue lashing quick and precise against it, frizz of his curls tickling the insides of your legs as he shakes his head.
The weed is certainly a help as trapped noises heave from your chest, mouth falling open, lax and pliant with moans. “Oh, my god, Eddie. Fuck. Holy shit. Hah- right there, please, don’t stop-”
As if he would. Eddie moans in tandem with you, his own hips chasing the maddening pressure of the floorboards against the hard jut of his cock, leaking through the front of his boxers as he adds a third finger, spurred on by the fountain of breathy words this pulls from you-
“Oh god, oh god- f-fuck- Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie-”
Your speech devolves into a mindless, babbling chant of his name. That coil pulls taut, has you crunching forward in a half sit-up, hands fisting at the roots of Eddie’s hair to hold him in place (perhaps harsher than you intend but based on the way his hips stutter and grind, you can safely hazard a guess that he’s into it). 
The pattern breaks when he grazes his teeth against the pulsing nub in his mouth; you have just enough time to gasp out, “I- I’m coming, Eddie, shit, m’gonna come-” before the orgasm hits you full-force.
There isn’t room in your brain to hide all the noise that threatens to suffocate, so you let them all out, muscles tightening and flexing around every bright point of pleasure that he fucks you through. High-pitched whines, panting that wracks your lungs, a moan to top it all off that feels like it comes from your toes. 
“Jesus christ.” Eddie swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, sounding wrecked himself as he climbs back over your body, silver chain necklace and dark curls swinging in front of your blissed-out face. “Fuck, princess. That was so hot.”
“Yeah?” Bashfulness hasn’t fully settled in yet, you’re still loopy from the force of your pleasure, arms slipping over the boy’s freckled shoulders as he leans down to kiss you.
His tongue has a bright tang of you, as you lick into his mouth, one hand leaving his shoulder to trail down his chest. Dark ink whorls beneath your fingertips as you reach the scratchy trail of hair just before his boxers-
“Shit.” Eddie hisses, forehead thunking into yours when you palm the hard length of him, precum soaking through the fabric, softness of your palm contrasting with the damp and rough drag of cotton. His long lashes tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering closed, soft exhale magnified by close proximity as he slowly pushes into your hand. 
You’re mildly surprised he hasn’t come, yet- usually Eddie gets off on getting you off, then uses the rest of his energy to make you both come again, together. 
What Eddie hasn’t told you yet is that he’s done some prep of his own, this week: every night you haven’t spent in his bed, his own spit-slicked fist has taken him right to the edge, stopping just short of coming with a choking grip at the base. The idea was to build up his stamina a bit, to take advantage of lonely evenings in service to a future you.
A very noble cause that is quickly being forgotten as your hand moves with more intent and pressure against his aching cock- the drug haze is almost enough to have him completely at your mercy, to tuck his nose into the curve of your neck and find sweet release by way of your pretty palm.
But he recovers. Get just enough distance from the warmth of you to clear his mind and snake his own hand down between your bodies to capture your twisting wrist. 
The protest dies on your lips when Eddie brings your hand to his mouth, sucking your middle and index finger against the pad of his tongue, saturating your digits in spit.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do.” His eyes stay locked on yours, even as he guides your newly-wet fingers back down your bodies to rest atop your cunt. “You’re gonna touch yourself until you come. Again. And if I feel like you’re holding out on me with your noises, I’m gonna make it real difficult for you to make any noise. At all.”
A thrilling shiver races up your spine, goosebumps prickling in response to the shift in Eddie’s tone. His eyes flick to your lower lip, which he bites, unable to help himself, before following the path of your hand south.
There will be time for unwinding the past, for dreaming about the future. For now, there’s a boy between your legs and the feverish glow of summer calling your name. 
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