#sorry if i sound a little tired cos i am very tired but i do want to do this here for you
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light of the morning
in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed
18+ (smut)
warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love
a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs
It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers.
It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door.
"Hi."
"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this.
You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door.
"Did I wake you?"
"How could you tell?"
"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"
"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."
"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."
He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.
You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth.
"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."
His eyebrows dart up.
"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"
When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it.
"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"
His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack.
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"
"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."
You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety.
"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.
He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."
It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement.
"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"
"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."
You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care.
"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."
Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves.
You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone.
"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"
"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you.
"Spencer."
“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are.
"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."
He looses a nervous laugh.
"I know. We’ve just never really done this."
You frown at the darkness.
"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."
"Yeah, but… this feels different."
That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex?
Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours.
"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly.
"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it.
"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now.
He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it.
"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt.
"Goodnight," he whispers back.
You fall asleep pretty quickly after that.
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It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.
Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache.
But you’re just friends.
Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away.
"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep.
"Five."
"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."
"Sometimes waking up early is okay."
His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—
He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt.
Friends.
"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."
"I don’t want to go back to sleep."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.
"No? What do you want?"
Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer.
The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.
So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?
Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips.
"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"
"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"
You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away.
Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words.
"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing.
"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"
He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words.
You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you.
"It’s fine. Thank you."
He continues chewing on his lip for a moment.
"Did I just ruin the mood?"
"No," you laugh, "not at all."
"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again.
"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses.
He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck.
"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"
"Kind of," you breathe.
"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."
Well, he’s not wrong there.
You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later.
You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you.
Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you.
Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum.
"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."
"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders.
"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs.
You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans.
"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want.
He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close.
"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course.
He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty.
You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway.
When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently.
"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."
You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt.
You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about.
"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further.
"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway.
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"Doubtful."
You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know.
"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"
It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words.
"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.
"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."
He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you.
"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation.
"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."
"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way.
"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."
You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.
"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut.
"Only for you."
Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating.
"Only me?"
You moan an affirmation.
"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"
"Yes!"
"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."
"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"
He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit.
You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing.
No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes.
You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet.
"You okay?"
All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb.
"Need your words, angel girl."
"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing.
"Yeah? Why so quiet?"
But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter.
"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck.
"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."
"An hour."
He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you.
"I said 48 minutes."
But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut
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When anyone else gets sick in this family: aww poor baby :(
When I get sick: it's not that bad, you're in pain 'cos you lay down all day
#text_iris#Can you tell I'm frustrated to the point of tears??#'You've lain in bed all day!!' maybe 'cos being any semblance of upright makes me so dizzy I feel nausious????#My neck hurts and fuck OFF I know I've been immobile all day bUT I FEEL HORRID AND I CAN'T MOVE#I'm tired and in pain and I got a long work day ahead tomorrow and I just want to cry#I just hope I feel better tomorrow if not I'll have to warn my supervisor I am NOT at my full five#Like it's 'just' a head cold but I feel so awful and horrid and my brain hurts SO MUCH#Like ANY movement makes me dizzy and I keep wanting to just sleep and sleep and sleep#Noise is a PAIN and I can't complain about that either I have to 'get it together' oh sorry guys i'll just tell my brain to SHUT IT i guess#Urghhh my family is testing me#All I want is some nice head pats and sympathy (head pats are very nice they ease the pain a little) is that too much to ask??#Like fuck OFF with the 'it's just a cold' I fucking KNOW that but doesn't mean I'm not crying frustrated tears 'cos I'm in so much pain#It fucking HURTS and I just want it to STOP and it doesn't help to have my pain belittled and waved off#I just want to curl up in a ball and cry so I'm just gonna do that now and get some sleep#If I COULD mind you the sound downstairs is TOO FUCKING LOUD
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Under one Roof pt 1
pt 2
OK finally IT'S HERE
smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing
my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE
and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me
Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.
Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short
Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n
masterlist
Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.
He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.
That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.
He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.
He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.
"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.
And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.
Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.
He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.
And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.
"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."
"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."
"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."
"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."
Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.
That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that.
"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.
And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.
He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games.
She should know the truth about me.
He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.
You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.
"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.
He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.
Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.
But that changed.
He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.
That old lady, always saving your life.
#cod mw2#ghost cod#cod fanfic#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost simon riley#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost#ghost call of duty
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I’m begging for more Golden Retriever Girlfriend with either Steve or Eddie- scraped knees? Doesn’t even notice, just too excited to tell their boyfriend about the butterfly they saw on their way over to see them…
I chose Eddie again cos I like him ♡ gn!reader | 1k words
The walk to Eddie's house is long but not boring. The trailer homes are dispersed over long stretches of green grass, so sometimes you see bugs. Mostly caterpillars, sometimes spiders, snails and slugs, ants, crickets if you're quiet enough.
Today, two butterflies. They swing through the air beautifully as if orbiting the other, pure white with wings as unremarkable and delicate as tulip petals.
They're distracting. You follow them for a short while until they fly too far to see and hurry the rest of the way to Eddie's home, rushing on toes up the steps into his trailer.
"Eddie?" you ask into the empty living room.
The bathroom door opens but he doesn't emerge. "In here."
You stride over and peer inside. He's spitting toothpaste foam down the sink, his hair in a tie, his eyes still droopy with fatigue.
"You get up way too early, you know that? I don't know how you can already have walked here when I got up five minutes ago."
"The weather's great," you say easily, pushing into the small bathroom though you shouldn't to wipe sleep from the corners of his eyes.
He bats your hand away. "Stop."
You stop and frown for the five seconds that you feel scolded until he grabs your fingers to give you a quick reassuring squeeze.
He drops your hand in favour of washing his face, cupping hot water in his hands to scrub at his nose roughly. You ramble mildly about the journey here.
"They were dancing, Eddie. I've never seen anything like it. They were really pretty..." you detail, distracted by his face, his lashes heavy with wetness.
He dries off with a towel. You reach around to the back of his head to pull his hair tie free and he sets his hands over your waist, a casual proximity as you run your hands through his curls. You're careful. You know how prone to tangles he is.
"I can feel you looking at my face," you say, trying not to breathe too heavily.
"Sure am, sweetheart."
You feel as radiant as a marigold under his appreciative gaze. "There. Perfect again," you mumble.
"Thanks."
You nod and move out of his reach, back into the cooler space of his living room. You do a little spin as you go, an unbearable amount of happiness in your chest as you pose in front of the couch, one hand at your hip and the other pointing at your still-tired boyfriend where he follows you.
"We have the whole day! What are we gonna do first?" you ask.
"Baby, what the fuck have you done?"
The smile slips off your face. He sounds mad enough to startle you and you drop your hands. "What?" you ask weakly.
His eyes flit from your face to your knees and he gestures to them. He looks wide awake. "You're bleeding. Sit down." When you don't move he takes your shoulders into stern hands and guides you backward. "Sit down! Jesus, sit."
You drop onto the couch and look down at your knees, surprised to see them all bloody and scratched. When you'd slipped on leaf litter walking down the main road into the park you'd assumed everything was fine despite the stinging pain, and by the time you'd seen the butterflies you'd forgotten altogether.
"When did you do that?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I forgot," you say, eyes blinking owlishly at his fierce expression.
Eddie spins on his heel to dig through a kitchen cabinet for his first aid kit, popping it open by the sink. "Piece of shit kit," he mutters, piling foil wrapped bandages into his hand.
He looks less formidable as he kneels on the floor between your knees, thumb probing the edge of your grazes one then the other, very gentle.
"You didn't tell me what happened," he says quietly, eyes on your knees as he sprays a small bottle of disinfectant over your knees with no warning and you flinch.
"Shit, I'm sorry," he says.
You blink back tears. "Stings," you say, giggling wetly.
He wipes your grazes with precise, almost calculated movements. One hurts worse than the other. "Sorry," he says again as he drops the bloodied wipes to the floor and rips a sterile packing open with his teeth – which is all types of wrong – and unrolls a length of white bandages.
"Hold the gauze, honey," he says.
You move your hands as he instructs, wondering if he's ever called you honey before. You're still deciding by the time he finishes, his hands in twin position just below your knees.
You brush your bandages together and smile. "They're white. Like the butterflies."
"Is that why you fell? Watching the butterflies?" he asks, sounding curious.
You laugh and weave your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his neck, dropping your face down. "I'm not that stupid. It was all the fallen leaves by the turning."
He smiles and clasps your wrists. "You're not stupid at all."
He doesn't give you time to argue as he stands and cleans the small mess he'd made fixing your bloody knees. You stand too, always trying to follow him despite limited places to go. Eddie's more than used to it by now.
"For future reference," he says, a certain roughness to his tone. "Don't wait ten minutes to tell me the next time you split your knees."
"Sorry."
He throws an arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side, giving you a good shake. "Stop. I'm serious, stop. Be sorry about how you've been here twenty minutes and haven't asked for a kiss yet."
"I wanted to, but you got all scary about my legs!"
"I can be scarier."
"No you can't."
"No, I can't."
You share what feels like an especially private smile despite being on your own and drop your head into his shoulder. He rests his cheek atop your crown.
"You had blood down to your ankle," he murmurs. "You scared me."
"Can I have a kiss now?" you ask.
"You'll have to let me think about it," he bluffs, already leaning in.
#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader blurb#eddie munson x gender neutral reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#x reader
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sweetest lies | c.s (03)
prev // series m.list
pairing: choi san x f!reader
word count: 7.7k
warning: none but lmk
you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.
look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.
but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.
you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"
the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.
you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.
"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.
but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.
"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.
"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."
you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.
there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.
"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.
you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.
you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.
how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.
which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.
she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.
it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.
dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.
fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.
“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”
the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.
“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”
“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.
you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.
“shut up. you know what i mean.”
“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.
“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.
you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.
“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”
between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.
but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.
“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.
seonghwa snickers.
“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.
he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.
you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.
“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”
because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.
“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.
you snicker lowly.
“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”
he shrugs.
"that's your choice."
but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.
the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.
"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."
seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.
you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.
you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.
"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.
“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.
“pardon?”
“i’m sorry, about this morning.”
it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.
it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.
san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.
but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.
"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.
"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."
he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.
there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.
know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.
there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.
and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.
"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.
you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.
"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.
you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.
he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.
"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.
because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.
how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.
if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.
you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.
and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.
you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.
it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.
and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.
you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.
one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.
"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."
he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.
he wouldn't want to lose you over this.
you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.
"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."
because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.
"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.
"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."
he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.
nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.
"i hope you're taking care of yourself."
you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.
"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."
you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.
and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.
"where would you be transferring?"
"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."
plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.
"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.
"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.
you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.
"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.
"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."
"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.
"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."
yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.
he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.
"apology accepted," he says.
you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.
"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."
you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.
it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.
san: yunho told me
san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?
you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.
y/n: he really be snitching, huh
san: so it's true ☹️
you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.
y/n: maybe 🤷
san: 😔
san: just when we were starting to get along too
y/n: lol. you'll be fine.
shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.
ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.
san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away
y/n: i'm not
y/n: i just want to do something different
san: if you say so
san: you free this evening?
y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours
san: wanna do something? 🙂
y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃
san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction
you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.
y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work
san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉
--
it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.
it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.
"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.
"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."
you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.
"i had to get out of my work outfit."
he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.
"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.
"stew sounds really good right now," you say.
"soft tofu stew?"
"that's fine. but make it spicy."
you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.
"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.
"got any sodas?"
"i got some coke."
"that'll do."
he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.
"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.
"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.
"fair enough," he mumbles.
you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"
he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.
"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."
you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.
"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."
"yeah. it cost a fortune."
"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.
"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.
"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.
he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"
you scoff and shake your head.
you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.
“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”
you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.
"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"
"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."
you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.
growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.
"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.
"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."
"but why?" he pushes.
you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.
"i told you i wanted to travel."
"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.
you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.
he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.
"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.
"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.
you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."
you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.
"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."
your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.
"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.
"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"
"shut up," you hiss.
as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.
the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.
and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.
tuesday 4:32 p.m.
san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂
san: *attachment*
y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive
y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person
it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.
getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.
you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.
san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄
y/n: i'm just looking
y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself
san: 😢
you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).
wednesday 1:20 p.m.
san: what time do you finish work today
y/n: i always finish at 6
san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂
y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare
san: ☹️
san: it's not
san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle
y/n: 🥱
san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.
something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.
"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.
"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.
he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.
"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.
"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.
you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.
"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.
"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."
"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"
he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.
"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.
"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."
"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.
on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.
"and you don't think it's nice?"
"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."
san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.
"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.
"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.
you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.
"you scared?" he tease.
"what? no," you blow.
"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.
"what kind of questions though?"
it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."
you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.
fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.
"oh fuck, it's me."
it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."
"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."
you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.
"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"
he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.
"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."
he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."
a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.
"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."
"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."
you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.
and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.
"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.
"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.
"don't ask questions that will break your heart."
"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."
"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.
"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."
"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."
"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.
"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.
"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.
"what did you think of me when we first met?"
you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.
"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."
he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.
the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.
"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"
and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.
"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."
the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.
"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.
"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.
"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."
it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.
"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."
it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.
"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.
"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.
"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.
"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."
"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.
"then i would be really upset."
you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.
"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.
some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.
the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.
it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.
he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.
but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.
are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?
that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.
he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.
which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.
but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.
"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.
he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.
"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"
"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.
two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.
it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.
"wow. already?"
"yeah."
san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.
he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?
tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.
you think you're losing it.
you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.
though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.
when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.
you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.
you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.
despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.
after all, what does he owe you?
you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.
but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.
long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.
“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”
you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.
his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.
“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.
it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.
then it's as if everything was a mistake.
choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.
your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.
you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.
so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.
you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.
because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?
everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.
your parents, yunho and your sister, san...
you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.
you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.
san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me
y/n: something came up sorry
y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan
a/n: i am truly sorry for having been gone a while only to come back with crumbs, but i hope y'all enjoyed this mess & will anticipate it finally coming to an end the following chapter <3 lmk if i missed anyone on the taglist cuz i have not touched it in 4ever fr
taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny
#y'all don't even know#the demons i fought#just to get 7k out of my ass#y/n got serious issues#but i hope y'all will still enjoy the drama#ateez angst#san x reader#choi san x reader#ateez x reader#ateez series#yunho x reader#fic: sweetestlies
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Day 7: Facesitting
Johnny was stuck at home, the filming of an upcoming movie had been canceled due to the heavy rain going on outside. He practically jumped for joy at the fact he got to stay home with his husband. Sauntering over to your home office he silently groaned at the sound of you being on a call with your co-workers on the next steps for whatever marketing project you were all assigned.
Your eyes quickly glanced at him over your blue light glasses, and you offered a small wave. His shoulders slumped as he walked to the small sofa he got you for the office just for times like this. As his back hit the pillow your co-workers began laughing after you spoke.
"How's the husband been (Name)? still in love like when you two went on your honeymoon?"
"Could we get a sneak peek at the new movie coming out?" Johnnys' body perked up as you waved them off with a chuckle.
"Yes we're still in love like our honeymoon 4 years ago, and I don't think I'm a liberty to talk about his movies." One co-worker whom Johnny didn't recognize spoke
"You have to be careful with those Hollywood types you know... He's probably already stepped away from the marriage." The call went silent as your face contorted in a frown.
"Woah! What's all this about me cheating on this absolute stallion I have waiting for me each day when I get home?" His voice sang out as he stepped into view of the camera. Some of your co-workers cheered and waved as Johnny placed a kiss on your cheek. His sunglasses were low on his nose as his hand rested against your thigh.
"Don't play dumb cage, we all know what men like you get up to in your free time, (Name) probably wants to settle down and get some little ones in a normal house." Ouch. His hand began to grip your thigh. Johnnys' smile didn't falter as he pushed up his sunglasses with his middle finger and you sighed.
"This is very inappropriate to bring up, no need to doubt my marriage because your husband has stepped out regardless of your normal home." The call was abruptly ended as a human resource representative shot you an email telling you the situation would be handled.
You clocked out early and got out of your chair holding Johnnys' hand
"I know you don't let things like that get to you but I am sorry about that." he shrugged and made his way to your shared bedroom.
"I mean do you think I go out and whore myself out like that? I mean do you want the white picket fence life?" His voice came out more as a whisper than he meant it to.
"Oh Johnny, the life we have now is perfect." Guiding him to the bed you told him you’d show him how much you loved the life the two of you lived.
Feeling your hands grip his hips Johnny yelped as your tongue lapped at his hole. he bit down on his thumb to muffle his voice. Your tongue licked harder which caused him to yank at your hair, "Come on Prince charming I know you can give more than that." his eyes shut as he let each moan escape his mouth into the air.
His hips were red around your fingers as you pulled him down more. His moans were muffled to your ears being squished between his toned thighs.
His cock wept as your tongue finally made its way in and felt like an invasion of his body but a very welcomed one as it provided stimulation that he’d never get tired of. He could hardly hold himself up without keeping a hand on the wooden bed frame. The strong word worked as a good stabilizer as you never seemed to slow down.
The rain patting against the roof was soft and the creek of the old wooden bed frame filled the air next to his groans
He felt overwhelmed, he hadn’t been sat that long but he could feel himself folding at the amount of passion you were putting into making him feel better made the pleasure stack more and more. The thought of you and him being able to indulge in each other like this for more years to come made him feel warmer against you.
He held his breath as he finally came against his stomach tugging your head closer in. You guided him off your face to be laid out against the satin sheets of your shared bed. He gasped for air as the bed shifted around due each others movements.
Climbing on top of Johnny your voice was low as you kissed down his stomach. “I know you wouldn’t step outside our marriage, who else could you go to for this.” Tracing his V-line with kisses he grew hard again and whined at the pressure and found his legs resting on your shoulders.
You whispered more sweet words against his skin. Gently stroking the previous red spots on his skin to soothe them.
#male reader#johnny cage x male reader#Johnny x male reader#Mortal kombat x male reader#Cage x male reader#Kinktober
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Jurassic Park - drabble request (scheduled upload).
Summary: Henry’s parenting skills get a brush up…
Pairings: AU!Dad!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC/Reader
Warnings: fluff, parenting/family life, banter/British humour, pet names, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.
WC: <600
A/N: Got a request for more dad!Henry fluff, not sure if it’s supposed to be based on my previous series or not but either way, thanks and please enjoy. **This is a scheduled upload, while all interactions continue to be appreciated, they can’t be responded too at this time.**
Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting.
Jurassic Park - drabble request.
She'd just come down to fetch the new novel she'd hoped to read in the bath, when a commotion sounded from the other room. "MUMMMMMMMY!!!" She sighed, tucked the book under her arm, and headed for the kitchen.
"What? What's going on?" Their son Hal was sitting at the table with his arms crossed and a thoroughly annoyed look on his face. Henry's eyes batted from him, to her, and back again.
"Mummy, I let Daddy have little bite of To… to… cerpops," both adults bit back a smile, "cos you say it good to share. But Daddy ate the wing! How it sposed to fly now?!"
"It can still fly! Just in a circle--"
"Daddy, shush--"
"But it's not like I ate the head! If I did it wouldn't have been able to fly at all--"
"Daddy, be quiet! Then what happened, Hal?"
"I say 'naughty Daddy,' and he laugh!" Henry quickly looked down, only just disguising a giggle.
"How did that make you feel, darling?"
"Cross!"
"And Daddy, how do you feel?"
"Honestly? Still a bit hungry--"
"HENRY--"
"What?! Besides, I shared half my peas--"
"Did Daddy apologise, Hal?"
"I was about to!" But she looked straight into his eyes and he immediately fell silent. Henry turned towards their boy. "I'm really sorry, Hal. Sometimes Daddy gets greedy and eats what he's not supposed to. Can you forgive me?" Their son smiled and patted him on the arm.
"That's okay Daddy, sometimes I greedy too." Hal stood on his chair so he could lean in for a cuddle. She couldn't help but smile.
"Right, Henry One, Henry Two, can I go back upstairs now?!"
"No! Mummy stay and have ice cream!" She struggled to know how to respond when Henry got up from the table.
"Not tonight Hal, Mummy needs some time out--"
"But she no in trouble!" Both adults laughed.
"Of course, not! Mummy's just tired, she's been very busy and taken care of us all day." Hal thought for a moment.
"But who take care of Mummy?" Henry smiled as he lifted him onto the breakfast counter.
"We do! And that also means giving her a break when she needs one. Now, what flavour would you like?" He opened the freezer drawer and pulled out a tub of Neapolitan ice cream.
"Silly Daddy! Want them all!" She quickly took the tub from his hands.
"You can both have two scoops each--"
"That's not fair!" They chimed. She shot Henry an exasperated look.
"Hal, clear your plate for Daddy then go play with Copper and Kal. I'll be in with your ice cream in a minute." He sighed but did as he was told, getting kisses on the head from both of them as he plodded off to the living room.
"Don't think you're getting an extra scoop just for that…"
"As if that was my intention!" They smirked at each other. "And why am I always Henry Two if I'm your husband?!"
"Because Henry One happens to be our son! And just how many dinosaurs did you eat off his plate?"
"Just half a Tocerpops!" She gave him a knowing look. "… As well as a rogue Pterodactyl and a couple of T-Rexs." She rolled her eyes.
"God help me. And if you eat any of his ice cream as well, God help you." She put the lid back on the tub and made for the stairs.
"Hey, there's no need to take it with you--"
"Course there is, otherwise I'd get none!"
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hello i am back ! thank you sm for your last post, i really enjoyed it!! anyways i have fallen down the jd rabbit hole. could i request a jd x reader where reader is very affectionate but jd is hesitant bc of veronica (he saw her suicide but moved before he knew it was fake and feels super guilty) then reader starts to get a little more distant because of the lack of reciprocation on jd's end. anyways this is gonna go on for too long, could u make it end with reader finding out what happened and reader comforts jd, and he just suddenly melts from the affection. (IM CRYING THIS DOES NOT MAKE SENSE I'M SORRY )
Summary: ^^
Pairing: Jd x reader
Warnings: mention of suicide, pretty much all warnings that come with anything heathers related. also probably typos and grammatical errors cos I’m tired
Word count: 774
Request something here !
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Relief washed over you when you heard the familiar creak of your window opening. Looking up, you found your boyfriend, Jd, gracefully climbing into your room, a mischievous glint in his eyes as always. He got comfy beside you in your bed, snuggling up as he pulled your diary towards him, trying to peek.
“No.” You snapped it closed and popped it on your bedside table, telling him off.
“You’re really never gonna let me read that thing?”
“Maybe one day, when we’re 40 and I randomly find it after having forgotten about it for years.” You replied.
Jd laughed with a little shake of his head.
The evening went by much per normal, him climbing back out your window to head back to his own home, “I’ll see you at school,” he says as you shut your window behind him.
You let your body sit heavily on your bed, sighing. He had never been the most affectionate, you figured that was just the way he was. But lately he’s been even less affectionate. He’ll still let you be touchy with him, cuddling him and kissing on him but everything on his end has pretty much dissipated. Not even an arm around you as you walk together anymore. It felt like this big wedge was being driven through the middle of your relationship, and he -for some reason- wasn’t noticing it.
Another week or so passed, and the distance between you two had grew exponentially. You couldn’t entirely blame him, for you somewhat adopted this mindset of ‘if he wants to be distant, fine, I can be distant too.’
But it had gone on for too long now, and had gotten worse than you ever thought it could. You barely even talked at school, you just sort of sat together in this weird unresolved silence.
You had had enough. One evening you got yourself out of bed and marched yourself over to Jd’s house, not planning on leaving until you figured out what his deal was.
“Jd, I can’t do this anymore.” You wasted no time, immediately speaking as you crawled though his window, startling him.
“Y/N—”
“What are we doing?” You stood in front of him, arms crossed.
“What?”
“What are we doing? You and I. What is happening?”
His confusion was evident, his voice a mix of curiosity and bewilderment, “What are you talking about?”
“Jd, don’t be a dick. You're distant. We barely talk. You haven’t even held my hand in a month. I feel like I've lost you. Have I done something wrong?”
Jd's sigh carried a weight, his figure rising from the bed. “Y/N, I…” he hesitated, the words escaping him reluctantly, “My ex— she hung her herself in front of me. It haunts me. I just feel guilty and I'm terrified that I might drive you to the same point.”
The room fell into a stunned silence, your mind grappling with the enormity of his confession. Your mouth opened to speak, only managing to stutter incoherently. Before he could continue, you closed the gap between you, enfolding him in a heartfelt embrace. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of your steady breaths. “I had no idea,” you whispered softly, your voice carrying a mixture of sympathy and understanding “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Jd choked out, unsure exactly of what the emotions his brain was trying to process were. You shook your head against him slightly, still holding him in a hug, “I can’t imagine how heavy that must feel.”
Jd winced, beginning to cry into your shoulder, tears starting to flow without reservation. That was the first time anyone has ever acknowledged how much pain he has experienced, ever. Your touch was a silent reassurance to him that he could let his guard down.
Amidst his quiet sobs, you murmured calmingly to him, “Shh, it's alright, Jd. You're not alone anymore. I'm here for you.” Your voice was a steady presence, comfort in a way he’d received from no one except his mom when he was a kid.
As his tears subsided, you held him a little tighter, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back. “You don't have to be afraid with me,” you whispered, your words carrying the weight of your sincerity. “I'm not your ex, Jd. I just want to see you happy.”
His grip on you tightened, his vulnerability a testament to the trust he was beginning to place in you. He gave you a watery smile. “Thank you,” he managed to whisper, his voice raw, “you wanna just stay here tonight?” He asked. You nodded, getting comfortable in his bed.
A/N: LMFAO I’m so sorry this is SHIT but I had already left it sitting in my inbox so long and I didn’t wanna keep u waiting any longer. I kinda gave up with the end so sorry I hope it’s okay I tried to stick as closely as I could to the request 😭🫶🏼
#jd x reader#jd x y/n#jdronica#jd x you#jd x veronica#reader x jd#jason jd dean#jd#jd heathers#jd fanfic#jason dean heathers#heathers fluff#heathers jd#heathers the musical#heathers#veronica sawyer x jason dean#jason dean#jason dean x reader
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King of my heart (part 4/finale) | Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: You get the role of MJ for the new Spiderman movie…aka, the classic trope of co-stars falling for each other
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Word count: 1.7k
Note: I am sincerely sorry for the long wait. My interests have moved to other fandoms/characters and this story got pushed to the side... I hope you enjoy the final part!
p.s. This is the last of Tom Holland you will be reading from me. He is now removed from my ‘people I write for’ list (I don’t write for actors anymore)
—
''Cut!'' the director called, his voice echoing on set. ''Everyone take five.''
''Y/N, please, some serious,'' Tom warned with a fake scowl, as if he wasn't the one making a funny face at you and making you laugh for the past seven minutes.
You narrowed your eyes at him and he grinned.
Filming had begun very early for Tom today so you hadn't had the chance to talk about your date yet. He had a lot of scenes that involved stunts and those took a long time to film. You didn't see him until late evening in your only — and very short — scene together.
Tom walked over to his chair and took a sip from the paper cup next to it, filled with what you assumed to be tea. ''Last scene of the day, then we're off.''
You made a cheerful sound and reached for your hot drink too, taking a long sip and using the warmth of the cup to warm up your fingers. If only you could do the same for your legs. You had been standing outside for a little over an hour and your fingers and bare legs were beginning to get cold. That's what happens when you're filming summer scenes at the beginning of October. You wished they would allow sweatpants underneath like they did on the set of Gossip Girl, your legs would be thankful.
''Is that coffee?'' you asked, smelling the distinctive bitterness of coffee coming from Tom's cup.
He hummed, taking another sip. ''Yeah. Tea isn't strong enough to keep me awake right now,'' he explained with a tired chuckle. ''I'm barely standing on my feet.''
Ah, the perks of being an actor.
Tom laughed from the tiredness. ''The second my head touches my pillow, I'm gone to dreamland.''
.
The next day, you knocked on Tom's trailer door. You had gotten a few silly memes while you were in the makeup chair and phones were not allowed on Marvel production sets, so you knew he was there.
''Can we talk?''
Tom nodded, letting you in his trailer. ''Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee?'' He looked at the kitchen area with pulled eyebrows and rubbed the back of his neck. ''I don't really know what else I have in here.''
''I'm good,’’ you said. ‘’If I drink another coffee, I'll have to take a pee break during my next scene. I've already taken too many since we began filming in London, the crew won't be happy with me.''
''It's always the wardrobe's fault.''
You could only agree.
''Blame it on the cold weather and the summer wardrobe my character is in.''
''When I was filming Spiderman: Homecoming, I learned about coffee and peeing the hard way,’’ Tom explained, thinking back to three years ago. ‘’That suit was easy to get in and out of, but it was so damn annoying. The wardrobe assistant never said anything, but I could see in his eyes that she was not happy with me.''
You pulled at the cardigan you had over your shoulders, feeling a chill. ''I know it's only October, but they should bring out the huge puffers. Last night's shoot was brutal. At least I have pants today.''
''Do you want something to warm up?'' Tom offered next, always thoughtful. ''I got a blanket and a jacket if you want.''
''That would be appreciated. I'll take you on the offer.''
You watched as Tom went to the small couch and gave you both options. As tempting as it was to take the jacket — which he wore this morning coming to set and would smell of him —, you took the blanket. You wrapped yourself in it like a cocoon. You probably looked silly, but at least you were warm.
''Does that feel better?''
You nodded. ''I had an amazing time with you the other night. It was nice to experience London from a native citizen's side.''
''I had an amazing night too. My only regret is, I didn't kiss you when I should have.''
You bit back a squeak of surprise, the beating of your heart picking up its pace.
Tom continued. ''When you closed the door and I went back to my room, I got hit with immediate regret. I spent the next hour cogitating and cursing myself for not kissing you.''
''You could do it now? We have…twenty-three minutes before we get called on set.''
A chuckle left Tom’s lips and he gently grabbed your chin, tilting it as he closed the space between your mouths and kissed you.
*
The change of status of your relationship made it to the tabloids shortly after wrapping up Spiderman: Far from home.
You and Tom were having dinner in a pub with some of his best mates when a ‘fan’ took pictures of Tom’s hand behind your back and kissing your cheek. In a matter of seconds, the pictures were all over twitter.
You felt violated.
Although you had chosen a career that put you in the spotlight, you deserved privacy. It was important for you to have control of what you wanted to share or not, but that control had been taken from you by that ‘fan’, turning your and Tom’s every outings into an invasive game of hunters against foxes.
*
Doing promo for the movie was overwhelming, tiring, and sometimes boring, but it was unfortunately part of acting. The last few days, you and Tom have been carried from one interview to another and asked the same questions over and over again.
It was your first time doing a tour to promote a movie you were in and you were exhausted from all the traveling and constant time-zone changes. How do actors do that all the time? Your sleep schedule was all over the place and your face felt like the Sahara desert from the constant exposure to airplane air and wearing a cake-face of makeup for over fourteen hours every day.
Having Tom with you through the whole tour made it all more bearable. He squeezed your hand three times before getting on the red carpet.
A chorus of screams from fans outside the premiere greeted you. You waved to some of them as you were being guided to your first interview.
‘’Y/N, we’re so happy to have you here. The movie is called ‘Far from home’ and a lot of filming happened outside in Europe, how does it feel to be home after being away for a few months?'' she asked, tilting the microphone toward you.
You knew the interviewer meant Los Angeles, but although you owned an apartment here, was it really your home? With all the constant traveling of the past two years, you've been living in hotel rooms and don't really know where home is anymore.
''I’ve been asked variations of this question a lot these past months. I think home is vague and can hold different meanings. Did I miss my family and my best friends while I was away? Yes. Of course. It’s hard to be in a different time-zone from the people who used to be a twenty minutes drive away from you,’’ you explained, remembering the nights you’ve spent curled in your hotel bed in Italy, missing your mom. ‘’But I personally don’t consider home to be a specific place. It’s more of a feeling. I feel at home when I’m with the people I love, wherever I am.’’
You regretted your choice of words immediately, knowing the interviewer would pick up on the ‘people I love’ part and use it to get you to talk about Tom.
His eyes lit up and he quickly took the opportunity. ‘’Do you have a specific person in mind? A certain…co-star, perhaps?’’
‘’Everyone was away from home during filming, whether it was in Atlanta or in Europe, so we were all in the same boat. We’ve spent so much time together that we became a new family. Seeing them today at the premiere makes me feel at home.’’
You mentally patted yourself on the back for this one. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk about Tom — he was your co-star, it was inevitable. You just didn’t want all the questions to be about your and Tom’s relationship. It’s a movie premiere, your first big screen production, not a personal interview on a late night talk-show.
You were moved to the next interviewer and, unfortunately for you, the guy from E!News complimented your dress and how stunning you looked, using the good old flattery method to get you to answer his juicer questions.
‘’It’s Zuhair Murad,’’ you informed him, plugging your dress designer. The shade of maroon matched with Tom’s, but you didn’t mention that part.
‘’Well, it looks stunning on you,’’ the interviewer added. ‘’We’re all excited to see the movie, but a lot of us want to know about the spiderman curse. We know it’s a thing for Spiderman actors falling for their co-star. Will you and Tom be the ones to break the curse?’’
‘’Maybe.’’ You laughed nervously. There was no getting away with this one. ‘’We didn’t mean to fall in love — it just happened —, but when you find love, you take it. You grab it with both hands and you do everything in your power not to let it go.’’ Your eyes searched for Tom, a smile curling on your lips when you saw him talking and laughing with an interviewer.
*
After the premiere, you and Tom went to your apartment, exhausted from the premiere…and a little bit tipsy from the drinks. You got unready, removing all traces to today’s red carpet glam, and slid into bed. While waiting for Tom to join you, you scrolled on your phone, looking at some pictures you took at the premiere and stopped at the one where you and Tom were getting ready in a hotel room. You had rollers in your hair and half of your makeup on, but your lips were on Tom’s cheek a golden glow was coming from the window.
You smiled at the picture and posted it on Instagram, giving the world the first official selfie of you and Tom since you began dating, with the caption: I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden 💛✨
—
Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife @amithesimpoffandoms @acornacreacure @chaotic-fangirl-blog @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation @aabananaa @starrrslove @angeliod @nmedina8611 @1stevelacyfan
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron
#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x reader#peter parker#peter parker x reader#marvel#marvel imagine#king of my heart#the end
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hellfire club || eddie munson
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: cussing, descriptions of violence, season 4 spoilers
content: basically this is following season 4, i’m just adding my own little bits and pieces to it :) i hope you enjoy & let me know if you want more!!
part two here
-
“You’re joking.”
You cannot even believe the words you’re hearing escape your best friends (although you’re questioning this now) mouth.
“Y/N.. look, i know okay? i know eddie munson spells trouble -“
“He doesn't just spell trouble, Chris. his goddamn middle name is trouble.”
“I just don’t know what to do anymore!” Chrissy exclaims, startling you slightly. “I’m sorry, I just - I am just so tired of these nightmares and these hallucinations Y/N! I feel like I haven't slept in god knows how long, I'm tired. Plus, he’s the only person in Hawkins I know who has a good supply of,” she glances around before lowering her voice, “drugs. I don't want to go alone. Please. I need you.”
The desperation in your friend's voice was so clear, it was hard to say no to her. And if you were being totally honest with yourself, you have been feeling very helpless in your friendship recently. Not being able to help Chrissy through these very realistic hallucinations and nightmares she has been having has been so straining on your friendship. So, it was a pretty simple decision for you to tag along.
Which was how you found yourself sitting on a picnic bench, in the woods next to the high school, waiting for the notorious Eddie Munson to join you and sell you drugs.
“I'm kind of nervous, if I’m being honest” Chrissy mumbled quietly, picking at the wood on the table with her perfectly painted fingernails.
“I mean, god, I hope you would be nervous buying drugs for the first time, Chris. Jesus Christ. Who would of thought that the captain, and co-captain might i add, of the Hawkins High cheerleading squad would be out in the middle of the fucking woods waiting for drugs?!“ you joked, hoping to spark even the slightest smile on your friend's face.
When you were met with silence, you nudged her gently with your shoulder, “Chris, look I’m sorry - I’m here to support you no matter what,” you turned your head to the side to get a better look at her, “I just -“ you paused, noticing her eyes first.
“What the fu-“ you stood up abruptly, moving to get a closer look, “Fuck, not again.”
You’ll never forget the terror that pulsed inside of you the first time this happened.
-
You were both leaning against the lockers in the hallway at school. Chrissy had been a bit quiet that day, but no matter how many times you had asked, she insisted she was okay. You didn’t believe her, but knowing how stubborn she was, you knew you wouldn’t get the truth from her anytime soon, that was until she sprinted straight towards the bathroom in the middle of your sentence.
“Chris?” you questioned as soon as you entered the bathroom. Instead of a response, you were met with the sounds of her getting sick in the toilet.
“Oh babes, why didn’t you tell me? Do you want me to go get Jason?”
“No!” she quickly exclaimed, coughing up more sickness. “No, please Y/N… he doesn’t know.”
“Shit, Chris. Okay, um, what do you need me to do?”
When you realized she wasn’t responding, you looked up questioningly at the door to the stall. “Chrissy? babe, are you good in there?” Alarms went off in your head when the lights started flickering on and off in the bathroom. You had never been a fan of creepy things, and this was definitely creepy.
Even more nerves started building up in your stomach when you realized Chrissy had still yet to respond to you. “Chrissy? Hello?”
When you were still met with silence, you pulled a bobby pin from your hair using it to unlock the stall door. Once it had finally opened, your eyes immediatley looked down to see Chrissy sitting on the bathroom floor, eyes rolled up in the back of her head, her entire body trembling violently.
“Chrissy?! What the fuck? What the fuck?” You shook her shoulders, panic racing through your entire body, “Chrissy, what the fuck is going on? Hello?”
Tears were building up in your eyes, and you were at a loss of what to do. You shook her shoulders even harder, repeating her name over and over again while trying to figure out if there was anything you could do to pull her from whatever was going on.
A gasp escaped through her mouth, eyes popping back into place. You stopped the shaking, collapsing your forehead onto her shoulder, a few sobs of relief escaping your mouth.
“Y/N?” Chrissy mumbled, pulling your body off of hers, “What happened?”
You couldn’t help the laugh of surprise that you let out. “What happened?! What happened? What the fuck do you mean, what happened, Chrissy?” you shot your arms up in disbelief, “What happened was you just looked like you were about to enter the afterlife and I didn’t know what to do!”
Chrissy looked at you like you were the most insane person she had ever come in contact with. “What?”
You took a deep breath, staring into her eyes before realizing that she truly had no idea what you were talking about. “Oh… okay.” you said quietly.
You took a deep breath and began explaining every single detail of what had just happened. You didn’t want to skip over anything, even mentioning the coincidental flickering of lights.. “I was literally thinking how crazy bad timing it was to have faulty electrical problems while you were having some strange body-freak out moment.”
Chrissy was quiet for a moment, processing all that you had just told her. After a minute, she finally looked back up at you, tears gathering in her eyes, “Y/N… listen. I’ve been having these very vivid nightmares about my mom -“
“Fuck your mom.” you interrupted her gently, not being able to help your usual sentence you would say when Chrissy brought up that horrid woman.
She smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, fuck my mom. but Y/N, I’ve also been having these…” she paused and began messing with her hands, a nervous tick she developed years ago. “Hallucinations? I don't know, they just feel so real and I don't know what to do.”
You stared at Chrissy, waiting for her to continue. “I just - I was having one.” she mumbled.
“Having a hallucination?” you questioned, “When?”
“Just now.”
“No, we’re talking now.”
She shook her head, sitting up to really look you in the eyes, “No Y/N. When my body was doing all of that weird shit, I was having a hallucination at the same time.”
“oh.”
“oh.”
-
“Chrissy, please. not again! Fuck, not again!” you exclaimed, moving her body out from under the picnic table so you could grab her shoulders to shake them.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” you kept mumbling to yourself, tears gathering in your eyes and panic swimming through your veins. “Please Chrissy…” you whispered.
You don’t think you’ll ever love a sound more than the gasp that is let out through her mouth when she finally comes to.
You pull away from her, taking a few steps back as your shoulders sag in relief, “Oh thank fucking go-“
Your words were cut off when your back ran into something firm. You jumped in surprise when that something’s hands grabbed ahold of your hips, stopping you from falling forward.
“God.” you finished your sentence, turning around to be met with none other than Eddie Munson.
“I mean I usually go by Eddie, but god will do.” he smirked above your head, his face quickly dropping into (almost?) a concerned look at the sight of tears streaming down your face.
“Hey, hey, hey. sorry… didn’t mean to scare you.” he paused, searching your features. “You okay?”
You didn’t turn your face from the ground, quietly mumbling your reply as you made your way back to the picnic table. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You sat back down next to Chrissy, who still seemed very shaken up by the incident. “C’mon Chris, let’s just get this over with.”
Eddie circled the table, his black metal lunch box slamming against the surface of the wood as he set it down. Taking his staple denim jacket off, he glanced between the two of you when he noticed the silence.
“There’s uh… nothing to worry about. okay? No one ever comes out here.” he paused, finally sitting down on the bench across from you, “We’re safe.”
Opening up the container, he looked up at you both again when neither of you had still said anything, “I promise.” he said sincerely.
It was quiet for a moment longer when finally Chrissy nervously spoke up, “So how does this work exactly?”
You glanced over at your friend, eyes catching on her fidgeting hands. You placed a hand on hers in an attempt to ground her.
“Oh just like any other old sale,” Eddie responded, “Except uh, cash only, and uh, for obvious reasons, no receipts.” his eyes caught yours, a playful tilt to his lips.
“I'll do you a half ounce for uh, 20. What do you say?” he dangled the baggy of drugs in front of you both. “Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while.”
Chrissy gasped suddenly, becoming alarmed at the sound of an animal running through the forest behind you. You couldn’t help but jump at the sudden movement of your friend.
“Chrissy, babe it’s just a -“
You were cut off by the sound of metal shutting, “Hey uh, we don’t need to do this. Just give me the word and I'll walk away. okay?” eddie said, an irritated edge to his voice.
“No, you asshole. You stay right where you are. You have no idea what she’s going through right now.” Your voice rising a bit higher with each word.
“Y/N, it’s okay.” Chrissy quietly spoke, her hand now finding yours to comfort you. “It’s not that…” she said louder, turning towards Eddie again, “I don’t want you to go.”
Her hand trembled slightly in yours, “It’s just… Do you ever feel like, you’re losing your mind?”
You couldn’t help the tears that made their way back into your eyes again at her question. Facing your eyes towards your lap, you tried to hold them back. When you lifted your head at the sound of Eddie's voice, you found him looking at you both curiously.
“Um…” he trailed off, “You know, just… on a daily basis.” he chuckled slightly, “I mean I feel like I’m losing my mind right now. Doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham and Y/N Y/L/N, the queens of Hawkins High.”
You rolled your eyes at him, frustrated with how he wasn’t taking Chrissy seriously. You began to stand from the bench, pulling Chrissy up by her arm, “C’mon, Chris. we don’t have to deal with this.”
“You know, Y/N, this isn’t the first time we’ve, um, hung out.” he said, looking up at you.
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, your movements halting, “No?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, I’m sorry but -“ you began trying to pull Chrissy up again, but she pulls her arm away, shaking her head.
“That's okay,” Eddie mumbled, his shoulders shrugging. You and Chrissy were both startled at the sound of him grunting and falling backwards off of the seat.
“Fuck!” you exclaimed at the same time as Chrissy gasped. You leaned forward against the table just as Eddie was rolling backwards and standing back up.
“I wouldn’t remember me either, Y/N..” he exclaimed, marching away and messing with his hair. “Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?”
You glanced back at the sound of Chrissy's laugh, noticing the tension in her shoulders disappearing. Your eyes moved back towards Eddie, “You don’t remember me?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I'm sorry..?” you question, attempting to hide the smile threatening to break free on your face. You couldn’t help but feel a little thankful at his antics for causing Chrissy to laugh for the first time in days.
“Middle school. Talent show. You were doing this cheer thing,” he moves his arms around in what you assume is his idea of a cheer routine, “You know, the - the thing you do.”
You laughed suddenly, shaking your head and looking down at the table.
“It was pretty cool, actually. And I was with my band..?”
You whipped your head back up to him, “Corroded Coffin!” you exclaimed, eyes wide as you recall middle school Eddie up on the stage in your auditorium.
He clapped in victory, “Corrod- you do remember!”
“Oh my god! Yes, of course. with a name like that, how could I forget?”
“I dunno. You’re a freak.”
“No you just,” you trailed off, laughing quietly.
“Oh my god, Y/N! I remember you talking about them and how you were obsessed-“
“No, you just looked so different.” you exclaimed quickly, cutting her off.
“Yeah. Well uh, my hair was buzzed and I didn’t have these sweet old tatties yet.” he pulled down the neck of his shirt, revealing a tattoo on his chest.
Your eyes followed his movements, blushing slightly, “You played guitar, right?” making eye contact with him again.
“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do.” he backed away, hands on his hips, facing the forest. “You should come see us,” he turned, eyes finding yours.
Chrissy giggled quietly behind you, making both you and Eddie turn towards her still sitting frame. “I mean, you both should come see us.” he corrected, the tips of his cheeks turning slightly pink.
“Uh, we play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool. We … we actually get a crowd,” shoulders shrugging, head nodding, his lips turning up slightly at his next sentence, “of about… five… drunks.”
The sound of laughter coming from both you and Chrissy turned his smile even wider. “It's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere, right? So…”
You sat back down next to Chrissy, a small smile still settled on your face. “You know you’re not what I thought you’d be like.” Chrissy mumbled.
You looked at your friend and then back at Eddie who was now walking back towards the table.
“Mean and scary?” he questioned, plopping down on the bench again.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah well,” he rested his face in his hands. “I actually kind of thought you’d be mean and scary too.” his eyes glanced towards you, “both of you actually.”
You scoffed, small laughs coming from both you and your friend. “Us?” you questioned.
“Terrifying.” he nodded with a fond tone. “Uh, so..” he reached down, grabbing the black metal box once again. “In other good news, flattery works with me, so…” he smirked, causing laughter to escape your mouth. “Twenty five percent discount for the half.” He placed the baggie on the table in front of chrissy. “fifteen bucks. you’re robbing me blind here.” he joked, hands going up in surrender.
You glanced over at Chrissy, awaiting her response. Her head was tilted back down and the nervous energy was surrounding her once more. She took a deep breath, “Do you have anything, maybe, stronger?” She lifted her head and looked at Eddie.
He glanced over towards you in slight concern noticing that your face looked just as confused and worried as his.
-
“Why didn’t you want to admit in front of Eddie that you were slightly obsessed with his band back in middle school?” Chrissy nudges your shoulder.
You blushed slightly, eyes rolling, “because Chrissy, I honestly forgot about it. And Eddie “The Freak” Munson does not need to know that fact about me.”
You both crossed the parking lot of the school heading towards the secluded area where Eddie had parked his van. Rounding the corner you found him already there, leaning against the vehicle.
“M’ladies” he bowed dramatically. You rolled your eyes at him, “Eddie.”
Smirking, he looked you up and down, “Always so lovely to see you, Y/N..”
“I'll sit in the back, Y/N! You can have shotgun.`` Chrissy declared as she moved to sit.
You glared at her (not so) subtle attempt of giving you and Eddie more time together. even though in reality, she was wasting her time. There was no way in hell you and Eddie Munson would ever become more than slight acquaintances. You wanted to help Chrissy through whatever she was going through and get over it.
“And the chariot moves.” Eddie says, pushing the key into the ignition when all three of you were sitting and buckled. he turns his head to you and then back to chrissy, “Onwards, m’ladies”
-
When the van (can you even call it that? it’s a monstrosity on wheels at this point.) pulled up to the Munson residents, the nerves began building in your stomach again. You were finally coming to the realization that, oh shit, you were a part of a drug deal. Your mom would kill you if she ever caught a whiff of it.
You and Chrissy follow Eddie up the steps, walking into his home after he holds the door open for you.
“Sorry for the mess..” he grumbles, picking up bits and pieces of trash that have been scattered. “Maid took the week off” he joked, looking up at the two of you.
You can’t help but feel a bit awkward as you stand in the middle of his living room, “You uh, live here alone?” you question, glancing around at the decor.
“With my uncle, but uh. He works nights at the plant. Bringing in the big bucks.”
“How long does it take?” Chrissy interrupts. “Sorry?” Eddie turns his head back up from his rummaging around.
“The special k. How long to kick in?”
“Oh! Well uh, depends-“ he continues digging through drawers, “If you snort it or not. Uh, if you do, uh then uh. Yeah, it will uh, kick in pretty quick.”
He picks up a container, looking inside, “Oh shit.”
You roll your eyes annoyingly, “You sure you have it, Munson?”
“No, no, no. I got it. Uh… somewhere.” he turns around, walking to what you assume is his room.
Huffing in impatience, you sit down on the couch in the living room. you look up at Chrissy, “How are you feeling, Chris?”
She glances back down at you, “Uh.. okay. Just pretty -“ she gasps, turning towards the window.
“Chris?” you watch as she runs back, frantically looking around outside. “Y/N,, do you hear that?”
“Uh… hear what?” she shuts the curtains frantically, walking back to where she was standing before. “Uh, nothing. Nevermind. It was nothing.” she glances around the room nervously, “Hey, Eddie. Did you find it?” she yells out.
“Chris, we should just go. You’re making me nervous.” you stand up from the couch, grabbing your purse. “C’mon, we don’t need to- fuck. oh fuck no. Eddie!!” you yell loudly, dropping your purse back to the ground and standing in front of Chrissy's shaking body.
“Found it!” Eddie declares, walking out of his room. “Peaceful bliss just moments away.” his movements pause, looking at the scene unfolding in front of him.
Tears were already streaming down your face as you started to shake Chrissy’s body, hoping to wake her up from whatever was happening to her again.
“Uh, Y/N..? What’s going on?”
You whipped your head back at the sound of his voice, “Eddie, it’s happening again. She's having another hallucination. I don't know what to do. Please help.” you begged.
“A hallucination? What the -“ he stepped closer, finally taking note of her eyes. “Fuck? Y/N, what the fuck?”
You shook your head quickly, not knowing how to explain to him what was actually happening. “Chrissy?” he questioned, stepping even closer and watching her closely.
“Chrissy?” he sang, waving his hand in front of her face, “Hello?”
“That’s not fucking helping, Eddie!” you exclaimed, “Chrissy, please.” you shook her shoulders harder, desperate for this to end.
“Y/N, move.” he ordered, gently pushing your body away so he could stand in front of her. “Chrissy! Hey Chrissy, wake up.”
He shook his hand in front of her face again, “Hey! Hello?“ he began snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Chrissy. Hello? Hey Chrissy!“
Your breath caught in your throat when the lights started flickering on and off again, just like they had in the bathroom the first time this happened. “What the fuck?”
Your eyes caught Eddie's, a confused and scared look on them. He didn’t keep eye contact for very long because he looked back at Chrissy's still shaking form.
“Chrissy!” he yelled again, starting to resume shaking her shoulders like you had been earlier. You felt pure panic as you realized that this one was lasting a lot longer than any other episode she had experienced before.
“Chrissy, please” a desperate cry left your lips as tears were streaming down your face.
“Chrissy! Chrissy! Chrissy!” he repeated, gently slapping her face with both of his hands. “Chrissy, wake up now! Chrissy! I don’t like this, Chrissy! Chrissy, wake up!”
Sobs were wracking through your body, “Chrissy, please!”
“Chrissy! What the -“ you glanced up at his abrupt stop.
“Eddie, what-“ and that’s when you caught sight of what was happening.
Chrissy's body was slowly lifting off of the ground. You rubbed your eyes, trying to make sense of what you were witnessing. “Eddie?” you whimpered.
“Y/N, what the fuck?” he stepped back, both of you watching chrissy’s body rise higher and higher off of the ground.
Screams ripped from both you and Eddie when Chrissy’s body snapped up to the ceiling.
“Jesus christ!” Eddie screamed, running quickly backwards to try and get away. He tripped over something, falling straight onto his back.
You felt like you couldn’t move, tears were streaming down your face but nothing could come out of your mouth as you witnessed Chrissy’s body pressed above you.
Her arm was first. The sounds of bones cracking was the first sign that something even more horrific was about to happen.
You screamed as you watched her arm bend upwards, snapping in half. You could hear Eddie's screams in the background, but you couldn’t look away from your best friend. Next her legs snapped, and then her jaw. It looked like someone had punched her so hard, it was completely diagonal.
Her body was shaking, mouth open and every bone cracked and disfigured. She stayed in that position for several seconds until her eyes popped completely out of her sockets. It looked like someone had just taken them right out of her head.
You screamed again, body shaking as you wrapped your arms around your knees. “Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy…” you kept mumbling to yourself, tears streaming down your face.
You buried your head in your knees, looking up when you heard the sound of her body dropping back onto the carpet.
“Y/N!” Eddie screamed, running up towards your sitting frame. “C’mon.”
“We can’t just leave her here!” you screamed, pulling back from his grasp.
“Get the fuck up!” he yelled, pulling you up all of the way.
“Let go of me!” you attempted to pull yourself away again, but your body wasn’t prepared for the sudden movements after the traumatizing scene you had just witnessed. You began to feel very dizzy, moving your hands around in attempt to grab something to steady yourself.
“Y/N…?” was the last thing you heard before you saw black.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson story#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things x reader
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The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 24
A/N: Jim has an encounter with a green-eyed monster…
OCs featured: Bradford Pendleton @kc-and-co
Warnings: none.
October 1896
The new term, and Jim’s fifth year, was well under way, and Jim had so far found himself incredibly busy. Between the additional homework and Saturday lessons, he and his classmates had less free time than before, and so it was not until a month into the term that he, Brady, and Lysander were able to organise their first Art Society meeting of the year.
Having gathered his sketchbook and graphite from his dormitory, Jim set off for the library, where he had agreed to meet Brady prior to the meeting.
As he reached the top of the stairs, the wooden doors of the library opened, and he felt his face flush as he recognised the person who had stepped out into the corridor in front of him.
“Héloïse,” said Jim.
“Jim,” said Héloïse. There was a pause, during which neither of them spoke. “Hello.”
“Ah. Yes. Um, hello. Sorry,” Jim cleared his throat. “Are you… That is to say, I do hope that you are well.”
Héloïse frowned slightly before responding, “I am not so bad, thank you. And you are well also, I am hoping?”
“Yes, quite. Very well also, yes. Have you been reading, or studying, or… What have you been doing in the library?”
“I am trying to learn my… lessons.”
“Which lessons?”
“The ones of tomorrow. No,” Héloïse shook her head. “Yesterday. I am sorry. I am a little tired, I am thinking.”
“Of course,” said Jim. He cleared his throat again. “Well then. I do not wish to keep you.”
“To keep?”
“Yes, um… Sorry…”
Jim tried his hardest not to seem disappointed as he looked at the somewhat bewildered expression on Héloïse’s face. In spite of writing to each other weekly over the summer, the two had barely shared more than five conversations since returning to the castle, and each time they spoke, it had been stilted and awkward. Jim was not certain what he had done wrong, but he knew that he was likely to be at fault somehow.
The library doors opened once more, and Bradford Pendleton the Fourth emerged from behind them, a silk scarf draped over his shoulders and his own sketchbook tucked under one arm.
“Jim, old bean!” Brady clapped Jim on the back with the hand not holding a sketchbook. “Ready to sketch? Jolly good day for it, I must say.” He did a double-take at Héloïse and bowed to her theatrically. “Pardonnez-moi, Madamoiselle. Héloïse, comment ça va?”
“Oh,” Héloïse shrugged, her lips slightly pursed. “Comme ci, comme ça, comprends?”
“Pas si bien, hein? Mais, pourquoi?”
Héloïse sighed heavily, before beginning to speak to Brady in a fluent stream of French, which Jim did not understand. Brady, however, apparently did understand her perfectly, for he nodded and made noises and verbal responses - also in French, also incomprehensible to Jim - at intervals as she spoke. All the while, Jim stood beside him, surplus to requirements, a dark feeling somewhere between pain and anger growing in his chest as he did so.
As the feeling grew to the point that it was unbearable, Jim turned around and left Brady and Héloïse to continue their conversation without him, and stomped down the corridor to the empty classroom the boys liked to use for their meetings without even uttering a word. He had no words to say, neither in English nor in French, not to Héloïse nor to Brady, who was able to understand and converse with Héloïse far more easily than Jim could ever hope to do. It seemed unjust, all things considered. Brady always made friends so easily; why did he feel the need to take one of the few friends Jim had?
“Hexley!”
Brady’s voice and the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, both interrupting Jim from his thoughts and vexing him further. He turned to see Brady striding towards him, and scowled.
“What’s wrong, old chap?” Brady asked. “I thought that we were going to go to the society together.”
“I decided to go alone.”
“Oh,” Brady frowned. “You should have said, rather than just take off like that. I had to leave Héloïse all alone, and she was quite taken aback by how abruptly-”
“You did not need to do that,” said Jim. Though his voice trembled slightly, for once, he did not stutter. “You could have continued without me. The two of you did not require my presence to hold your conversation.”
“That is not the point. I think Héloïse was quite upset by it, you know.”
“I don’t see why. She was perfectly happy talking to you.”
“Perfectly happy?” said Brady, incredulously. “Hexley, did you not understand a word she was saying?”
“No!” Jim snapped. “No, I did not understand a word, because unlike you, I do not have the luxury of having been taught to speak French.”
Brady took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Jim, my good man,” he said, with the diplomacy of a politician, “that is precisely what she and I were talking about, and why we were holding that conversation in French. She doesn’t have many friends to talk to, you know.”
“But that’s… Well… I was just talking to her!”
“In English, which she struggles to understand, and finds even harder to speak.”
“That’s not true,” Jim shook his head. “No, her English, it’s… it’s good. Remarkably good. We… we wrote to one another over the summer, and-”
“You wrote. You did not speak.”
Jim pursed his lips as he considered Brady’s words, and his eyes widened as he realised how true they were. Writing was different. There was so much more time to consider one’s thoughts and words, to decide what one wanted to express and how precisely to do it. He knew this. After all, he never stuttered when he was writing. He should have realised before that Héloïse would have the same problem as he did, he should have been more sympathetic, and he should definitely not have begrudged her having the companionship she deserved, even if he was not the one to be able to provide that.
“I… I have been a… Well, perhaps I should not say it,” he said, and he swallowed. “I am sorry, Brady. Truly, I am.”
“That’s quite alright, old bean,” said Brady, clapping Jim on the back. “Though I do not think that I am the one you should apologise to. After all, you walked away from Héloïse as well as me, and I am not the one you feel strongly about, am I?”
“Well, I… I feel for both of you,” said Jim, frowning. “You are both very… The pair of you are good friends to me.”
Brady guffawed and used the hand on Jim’s back to shake him from side to side. “You understand my meaning, Hexley.”
Jim’s frown deepened. He was not certain that he did understand Brady’s meaning at all.
#the hexley legacy#the beginning of a symphony#jim hexley#heloise perrault#bradford elijah pendleton iv
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Birthday sex for Agustin? I know his birthday has passed but would be great to read something from you about it 😁 (only if you want of course)
Hey, better late than never!
"No...no mimis."
Agustín chuckled at his little girl. He had been on his feet all day, doing things his girls wanted to for his birthday. A picnic, a dance routine they made up for him (he had difficulties reading Isa's notes for the piano, but he managed), gifts, shots (in the form of apple juice. Isa had a HIGH tolerance it seemed), and of course, co celebrating Father's day with his best friend, and brother in law. He was tired, and he was waiting for little Luisa to finally pass out. We had Isa, his little party girl, already in her bedroom, now he needed Lulu.
"Shhh. It's okay. Mi bebé is tired. Mimis, ya."
He put her in her bed, covered her up, and patted her butt, until he knew absolutely and for sure that she was down for the count. He left the room quietly, shut the door quietly, and quietly saved a vase from falling onto the floor. Geez he did so much work on his birthday. Not that he minded, he loved his family. He made it to his room, and stretched as he made it to the all too familiar bed. Julieta's bed was the best in the house. Soft, smelled like spring water and herbs.
"Mi vida! I just put the girls to bed!"
"Seriously? Even Isabela?"
"Isabela was easy, LUISA fought me. Oh it was so cute, she said she already missed me, even as I held her. I love her. I love ALL my girls!!"
He cried out to her as he started to take off his clothes. He usually had night time pajamas, but he felt like just going in underwear for tonight. It's late, but still his birthday, he got to have that, right?
"You already in bed?"
He tried not to sigh. She wanted him to do something. He couldn't complain, he loved her, but damn was he just tired.
"Not yet! What's up?"
"I have one more birthday surprise for you! Siéntate! And close your eyes!"
Agustín did as she said, and he felt her weight as she sat on the bed next to him. He heard a flicker of what sounded like a lighter, before she nudged him.
"Go on. Open."
He opened his eyes, and on a cute plate, was the world's cutest little cake, all for him. It was blue, with little purple flowers on it. He chuckled, letting his wife lean against his shoulder.
"You made this for me? Aw, mi amor."
"I felt bad that you didn't get to eat any cake, and that it was a flavor you didn't like to begin with. So, I made you a little one while you were having your picnic. Figured I'd sing you happy birthday without being interrupted."
"Go on. You know I love your voice."
She cleared her throat dramatically, making him chuckle. She was such a card sometimes.
"Cumpleaños feliz, te deseamos a ti, cumpleaños, Agustín, cumpleaños feliz~...happy?"
"Very. With you, I ALWAYS am."
He leaned down to kiss her, relishing how soft and tender her hand was against his face. She gently parted, eyes focusing on his lips.
"Do you smell something burning?"
"That's my heart, mi amor."
"No I'm serious, what is...oh my god your hair!"
He saw a bit of fire, right on the tip of his hair in front of his face, and he was about to panic, when his wife licked her fingers, and snuffed the flame on his hair, sighing in relief.
"Ay Agustín. Make a wish before you give me a heart attack."
"I wish to be this happy forever. Or to be fire proof."
He blew the candle out quickly, and watched as her little finger swiped a bit of frosting for herself. She looked so cute with something in her mouth.
"Sorry, couldn't help it."
"Funny. That's what I say when I see you."
He couldn't help himself. He leaned in for another kiss. Then another. Then another. Her hand wandered up his chest, making it's way to his lips and breaking their kiss.
"How about I give you just one more gift?"
"Your presence is enough. Buuut I won't say no if you happen to come up with something."
She rolled her eyes playfully at him, before kissing his forehead, and excusing her to her dressing room. He watched her as she walked on, before he leaned back, enjoying his cake. It was sweet, detectable, just as much as she was. He leaned up to put the empty plate on the night stand, just in time to see her. And holy. Shit.
"You're staring. Is that good or bad? It's new, Pepa said it looked good on me but I think it's sort of...small?"
She turned her back towards him to pick at her blue panties, trying to keep it from giving her a wedgie. She definitely needed a size bigger, but he definitely liked it. It squished her frame in all the right places, and her breasts were damn near spilling out of the bra. Ever since he's known her, she's been a THICK woman. Thick thighs, hips, and breasts. God her breasts were perfect.
"I think it looks perfect on you. But, if you want me to get a closer look."
He did that eyebrow wiggle that always made her smile. He did that right when they started dating, and neither of them have grown sick of it yet. She walked over to him, and made a show of sitting on his lap, wrapping her arms and legs around his frame.
"Mmm...You're already hard, Agustín."
"Can you blame me? I have a beautiful, caring, compassionate wife who has me wrapped around her finger and...ugh, you know I hate it when you do that."
She was starting to grind herself against her clothed erection, and you'd be crazy if you said you didn't like such a big ass rubbing against you. She chuckled, fingers strumming through his hair as she kissed his face.
"You love it. Now, it's your big day, what is it you want?"
"I could stand to hear a few ideas."
"You just want me to talk dirty to you."
He shrugged, trying to feign innocence.
"Me? The birthday boy? Never. I just like your opinion on things."
She gave him another roll of her eyes, before bringing her lips up to his ear, kissing his earlobe a few times as she kept grinding.
"Alright. I could do many things. I could suck you off, with your dick right between my tits, since I know you like making a mess. I could have you lay back as I milk all of that cum out of you, shove your face into my chest. I could let you fuck my ass, since I know you like it so much. Or, if you want to feel absolutely pathetic, I could grind on you, just like this, and make you cum in your underwear. Then, I could sit on that pretty face of yours while you touch yourself, and I MAKE you cum again for me."
Agustín could short circuit. His wife was usually so sweet and almost prudish, but every once and while she'd get...raunchy. And he really, REALLY liked raunchy Julieta. He gulped loud enough for her to hear it.
"Hijole- where did you learn to talk like that?"
"It's a secret. Now pick. Knowing your dick is ready for me is making me Impatient."
God he loved this woman so much. He thought about it for a second, before finally making a decision.
"Milk me. Please."
"Good choice. Now, sit back for mami,"
She pushed him onto his back with surprising strength, peeling off her panties and exposing her pussy.
"And let me do all the work."
He was going to say something, when she planted her underwear right on his face, keeping it firmly planted against his face. He should've thought it was gross, it was underwear for God's sake. But the soft feeling of the fabric, the smell of her wet cunt forced against his nose. It made his now exposed cock absolutely throb for her. He tensed up as she slowly sank down onto him, and he was seeing stars as his entire cock fit into her, all nice and snug.
"You cum whenever you want, Agustín. You won't get to stop till mami's ready. Understand?"
He nodded at her, words mumbled by the fabric. Then she rode him. It wasn't gentle at first, like usual. She used his cock to her satisfaction, filling the room with the wet sound of cock fucking pussy, and the sound of two sweaty body's skin smacking against one another. She was gorgeous, taking what she wanted. Her face flushed, her hair messy, her breasts bouncing as she moved.
"You're so good to me Agustín. I love this. I love you. I love this cock, I love how it feels inside of me. You're so pretty when I'm using you. Your own birthday, and you want me to take you. You like it when mami is a little heavy handed with you, don't you?"
She put a little more weight onto him, making it just a bit harder to breathe. Not that he minded. He just held onto her wrists, as if begging for some sort of mercy. He was throbbing, he was already close.
"Go on, cum. I won't stop. I need you, Agustín. I need the father of my children to feel empty. I need him to know his wife loves him so much. So much, she wants another baby from you. Dios, I've wanted you all day, watching you with our girls. I've been so WET for you-"
She didn't get to finish as he came. He tried to hold it, but he was never really good at that. He pumped seed into her, and she kept riding him, anything to squeeze more out of him. She was greedy, tongue sticking out of her pretty mouth as she refused to stop.
"You interrupted me. Bad, bad Agustín ~"
He was bad, and she was going to teach him to be good. By making him cum. Again. And again. She herself finally came at his fourth orgasm, and she clearly wanted to go again, but his poor body was aching, he had to gently pat at her arm to get her to finally grant mercy on him. She slid off of him and landed at his side, leaving them weak, and his cock throbbing painfully, as if screaming for a break. He put one hand over her frame, and the other kept the underwear to his face. He couldn't get enough of it. He took a deep inhale, before looking at his wife.
"H...happy birthday to me."
She snorted against his shoulder, clinging to his side like the cutest little snuggle bunny.
"I'm sorry, was that too much for you?"
"No, no. It was just. A lot. Hijole, best gift ever."
She leaned up to kiss his cheek, before sighing and closing her eyes.
"Good. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I love you."
"I love you too. Uh, question though."
"Hmm?"
"Where did you come up with the underwear thing? That feels like something you'd find gross."
She shrugged, drawing little circles into his chest.
"'Of Demons and Desires', third volume, chapter three."
"What?"
"Er, I mean. It was just. Something I thought of. Now get some sleep while you can, we have kids."
"Oh my god we do. I love them. Except the part where they hate sleep. Hate that part."
She chuckled, giving him a bit of a squeeze.
"We should have another."
"We should. Maybe a girl."
"Maybe a boy."
"Maybe twins?"
"Oh don't you even."
Agustín leaned down to kiss her forehead, before resting his chin on her head, and having one thought as he slowly fell asleep.
His family was the greatest gift of all.
#not transformers#asks#encanto#lemon#and in case you're wondering#shes read all the books in the series#all twelve of them#someone stop her
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The Deal
Cad Bane X she*her afab character
CN mentions of crime murder and violence, incredibly bad coping-mechanisms and breakups
Beta read by the amazing @queenquazar
Note: Reader is able-bodied.
Previously
You woke up to the humming sounds of a flying ship. You were warm, lying on something soft and comfortable. Opening your eyes, hyperspace spun past you in a blue abyss.
You sat up straight.
Kriff.
“You’re awake.”
You twitched, raising your hands in defence. The last memory you had was of that kid Boba firing a blaster at you.
“Calm down. You are safe.”
Still with your hands raised and foggy eyes you carefully looked around. Everything was dark and blurry. Slowly, the effect of the stun wore off and you started to see more: the little illuminated displays of a cockpit, the outline of the co-pilot seat you were sitting in, and the shadow of a person next to you in the pilot’s seat.
“Kriffing hell! Boba!” You hissed, jumping. “How in the galaxy can you say I am safe when you are the one shooting at me?”
The shadow in the pilot’s seat shrugged and more light fell onto the teen’s face as he moved.
“What else was I supposed to do?” He replied as if it was the most normal thing to do.
“Not shoot me?”
The boy grimaced. “Pretty sure this was the least messy solution.”
You shivered at the implication and fell back into the co-pilot’s seat while rubbing your face. What mess did you get yourself into?
A deep tired sigh escaped before you turned towards Boba. “Care to explain what this is about? Why are we in kriffing space? Why did you stun me? Why should I not start attacking you with whatever available weapon I might find? You know, the basics.”
“Pretty sure I can take you in a fight.”
“Is that all you took away right, kiddo?” You felt your hands tighten into fists ready to test Boba’s assessment.
Boba rolled with his eyes. “Calm down. You sound like one of those angry women from the holo-sitcoms.”
“Oh, I’ll show you an angry woman, young man. Start talking. Make it short and convincing.” This better not be about Bane.
Boba pressed a few buttons to engage the autopilot and turned towards you. The teen, still in his armour but without his helmet, crossed his arms in front of his chest. He really looked like a child in his parent’s clothes. Everything was big and bulky. And Boba, while appearing like he was growing into the armour, looked off in it.
“Let me start by saying sorry about stunning you.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“It was the least painful and most silent way to get you away.” Boba explained.
You shook your head. “Getting me away from there, is a very pretty euphemism for kidnapping.”
“Do you want me to explain or not?”
You licked your lips, unclasped your fists and crossed your arms in front of you.
“Fine. Go on.”
“You remember that Aurra, Bossk and I came to search for Cad Bane?”
You nodded. Bane it was then.
“There is a bounty on him. The Hutts employed his service, and he appears to be their favourite right now. Especially after breaking out with a Hutt called Ziro from a prison on Coruscant.”
You have never been to Coruscant. But the Outer Rim chatter about the radiant beacon of prosperity called Coruscant, and the image of your Cad Bane single-handedly tarnishing its fantastic reputation, made your head spin in disbelief and your eyebrow raise again in question.
“It’s true. Bane pulls the most impossible stunts.” Boba’s voice sounded like a kid in awe talking about their favourite pod racer pilot. “But a few weeks ago, he vanished. And the Hutts want to know why. He knows a lot about their business. They want to make sure he is not out there selling their secrets to the highest bidder.”
You swallowed and silently did the maths. Apparently Cad Bane vanished around the time you two spoke to each other. Did something happen to him, and would that have been the last time you had seen him? Was he dead? Or did he go into hiding? Was he out there, safe and occupied with something else – someone else? A tinge of jealousy washed over you.
No, you thought to yourself, he left and there is no reason to waste your precious affection on someone who did not want it.
But would you be willing to give out information about him now that he is gone? You weren’t sure.
“I am pretty sure he is out there and alive. The infamous Cad Bane is in hiding, maybe doing some very secretive job. Maybe he is taking a break. He has the means; I am sure of that.” Boba mused.
“Alright, fine, but what does that have to do with me?” you asked again innocently.
“Come on! I know he means something to you! I can tell!” Boba called out. “And I know you meant enough for Bane to keep returning to Trask to this one cantina!”
“Bantha Shit!” You yelled back. “You are seeing things that aren’t there!”
“Ha!” Boba raised his arms in victory as if there was something in an argument to win. “I grew up among clones. When everyone has the same face, you need to learn to see the difference between them. Everyone expresses themselves differently. The most minuscule twitch of the muscle or the shortest gaze is a tell. You barely convinced Bossk with his Trandoshan eyes. You can’t lie to me. You are, quite frankly, pretty mediocre at lying and I know that you and Bane are a thing.”
Well, shit. So much for your mastery in lying.
“No.” You tried with your best Sabbac face.
“Yes.” Boba answered with an evil triumphant grin.
You stared at each other in a silent contest.
“Listen.” Boba started and blinked, breaking eye contact first. “I got you away from Bossk and Aurra because if they would have found out, they would have beaten you unconscious and gotten you away to use you as bait for luring out Bane. I am planning on doing the same with you. Using you as bait, I mean.”
He smiled apologetically.
“It’s business after all.” He continued. ”But I’d figured this way you can stay alive AND I get the bounty without having to share with Bossk and Aurra. It’s a win-win-situation.”
“How exactly is this a win for me? You dragged me into this just because you think I am a useful bait.” you snapped, your eyebrow raised so much it felt like your face could cramp.
“I can return you to Aurra and Bossk if you like.” Boba snapped back.”Or, if you really are as un-useful as bait for Bane as you claim, I can space you right now if you prefere.”
You stared at him. Boba was still a kid, a teenager with a gun. But all his sorry’s and smiles vanished and he stared at you with the blank expression of someone cornered and without choice.
You took a deep breath. If you wanted to survive this, you would have to play along a little bit.
“Listen,” You started. “Congratulations on figuring out the big secret.”
Boba smiled proudly.
“But there is an issue.” You continued, carefully treading onward and testing waters. “Bane and I kind of were a thing. I am not sure he would be lured out by my presence. What then?”
Boba smiled even wider.
“I would have been surprised if the infamous bounty hunter Cad Bane would run blindly after everyone he might care or have cared for. He is the best after all.” He explained with glee. ”But from what I have gathered, is that lonesome Bane never returns to a place unless he has a reason to. And as far as I can tell, you are the only plausible reason for Bane to return to a secluded, wet rock like Trask. This will work.”
XXX
You were sitting in the cargo hold of the ship. It was dark and calm here. Only the humming of the machines accompanied your loud thoughts.
Luna had been right. Bane meant trouble and danger. Even with him gone you were gods somewhere on a ship with a dangerously clever teenager, who was able to yield a blaster and kick your ass. You tried to calculate your chances of Boba letting you go after finding out that Bane likely would not show up no matter what that kid saw in you. Maybe your best bet at surviving this was to play along and then get away at the first chance you got.
You took a deep breath, suppressing your tears of stress and frustration, and looked at the cage in the middle of the cargo hold. It was big and terrifying. Drops of what must be different kinds of blood were on its floor. And the grid looked massive and sturdy.
At least you weren’t inside there.
And yet - the presence of the cage was a looming reminder of the precariousness of your situation.
Someone knocked at the hull of the cargo hold.
You looked up. It was Boba, of course. Who else?
“Am I intruding?” he asked and stepped into the big space.
“Yes. But you did that long before now.” You replied dryly and turned to him. “What?”
He looked up to the ceiling as if it helped him in finding the right words.
“I know this is all a bit much. But I am not here to harm you. Not really.” He tried. Like a liar. “I need your help the same way you need mine to get out. I need the bounty and you need a safe way out. We can help each other.”
You considered his words. As far as you could tell Boba had you in his hand. He could force you to play bait or even kill you. You weren’t sure if the kid was desperate enough to throw you out of the airlook as he had said before. But you weren’t keen on finding out.
“It’s not like I have much of a choice.” You figured. “What is the plan?” And what will you do if Bane does not come out to get me?
Boba took a seat on the cargo box in front of you.
“It’s kind of easy.” He explained. “We are going to Nar Shaddaa.”
“The smuggler’s moon?”
“The smuggler’s moon.” He looked at you with hopeful eyes. “You and I will hang out there in a few places and make sure to be seen by all the bounty hunters, smugglers and whatever other criminals are there. They’ll ask, Boba Fett, the son of the infamous Jango Fett, hangs out with whom? They will gossip. No one gossips like bounty hunters. It’s basically a professional requirement for the job.”
“And then what, Boba? You think after you told everybody that you just wanted to have a few drinks with your auntie, Cad Bane will just show up to join in?”
“Basically yes.”
You raised your eyebrow. At this point it felt like a workout. This kid was bringing out an athletic side in you.
“But obviously it’s not that easy.” Boba admitted. “We can only stay a short while and hope that Cad Bane hears of us. We could do something grand to get his attention on Nar Shaddaa. Something dangerous so that he might worry about you.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I always make these things up on the fly. Maybe we could start a good old cantina brawl? Or cheat badly and publicly at a sabbac game? Anyway – we make sure to get noticed and then leave because –“ Boba made a dramatic pause. “We’ll have Aurra and Bossk on our heels. And they will know now that something is up with you. Pretty sure they are pissed at me for leaving them behind. Aurra can be nasty. We should avoid that.”
You shivered at the thought of facing the tall woman with the red hair again.
“Ok. First, we make sure to become Nar Shaddaa’s gossip, then we leave in the hopes of Bane picking up our trail and following us faster than Aurra and Bossk, and lastly you do your Bounty hunter thing on Bane,” You summarised.
“Correct.”
You have never been to Nar Shaddaa. But you were confident of getting away from him there. It was supposed to be a huge place and Boba was alone. Maybe you could get out of this.
“And if he does not show up, I’ll just drop me off on some random planet.” He added, disrupting your silent planning.
“Really?” Another lie?
“Yeah. I don’t have many credits for fuel, so you’ll have to choose from something on the road but that’s basically the deal. You would be out of harm’s way,” Boba said.
“And should you face Bane – will you kill him?” You felt like hitting yourself. This was not the moment to worry about Bane. This was the moment for you to save your own neck. But even now you could not suppress that memory of Bane sitting on your couch and bleeding profusely.
Boba shifted around uncomfortably on the box.
“I- I hope I will be able to talk him into coming with me to the Hutts. They don’t want him dead. They specifically said they'd prefer him back in their service. He is the best out there, after all.”
You fixed Boba with a glare. “And if you can’t?”
He looked down, avoiding your investigative look.
“If I can’t convince him, '' he admitted, “I’ll have to kill him.”
XXX
Cad Bane starred out of the dimmed transpari window and tried to enjoy the grim panorama of Nar Shaddaa. He had spent the last weeks curled up in this rented little hole of a room to wallow in his own company, despair and self-pity. Of course, he had made sure not to get recognized. Avoiding cameras, paying with untraceable credits, even ditching his hat for once. He was a professional after all. And he needed some time to think, alone and without a client breathing down his neck or a target breathing hard while attempting to get away from him. It had been too long since he’d taken a break anyway and the galaxy should be more than fine to continue on without him for some time.
He closed his eyes and leaned back onto the little uncomfortable bed that had made his back ache the past nights, stretching out in nothing but his underwear.
Maybe he was getting too old for this, maybe he should stop hunting and settle down, get a family and all those things Jango used to talk about. But his ruthlessness had shaped him, gotten him off Duro and even his apex-predator DNA flared up in excitement just at the thought of going on a hunt and smelling blood.
No.
He was Cad kriffing Bane.
And he ain’t about to change that. Even for the most unruly, somewhat pretty and stubborn woman he’d ever met.
Dank Ferrik.
He really was in deep bantha shit and just thinking about her made him consider going back.
He had cursed her, called her every name in the galaxy he could think of. And yet her stubbornness was what she hauled right back at his every venomous syllable he spit into the world. Her unruliness was the same well crafted and intentional ignorance of everything she was supposed to be, he recognised in himself. And finally, he had to admit to himself that she was exactly that shape of somewhat pretty he considered gorgeous.
She was his dream.
The good and the bad kind.
She had met him right at his level and it had terrified him.
Another wave of curses boiled up in him, this time at himself and his own shortcomings.
No, it was the right decision to leave. He fought down the self-hatred. This way she will be safe.
It was a weak excuse and he knew it. The galaxy was a dangerous place whether he was involved or not. He was the weak one, the one hiding away instead of showing himself, not her. He had run and abandoned her without much of an explanation. He had given her nothing.
The same way Jango had abandoned him all those years ago. And coming from experience Cad Bane knew that this kind of abandonment breeds a very potent and persevering kind of hatred.
Maybe she will do better. He thought to himself before turning his attention to TODO.
Bane had sent the droid for food and supplies. Right as he reached for the buttons on his vambrace, the door flew open and the excited little droid stumbled in.
“Master Bane!” it squeaked. “You would not believe me when I tell you who I saw.”
To be continued...
XXX
@kasianthus @madam-o @rain-on-kamino @longrimmedbountyhunter @nbkluci @readsalot73
#cad bane#cad bane x you#tbb cad bane#tbobf cad bane#cad bane bounty hunter#bounty hunter cad bane#bounty hunter#nar shaddaa#the hat collection#grimmwriting#cad bane x oc#cad bane x reader#cad bane smut#boba fett#todo 360#cad banes hat
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Nightly Drive- Victor Li
Summary: Mia was working late at the office. Everyone else had left for the day. Victor decides to come visit her, worried since he had not heard from her. He decides to take her on a nightly drive around the city to help her relax.
Paring: Victor Li X Mia (F!MC)
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None!
Fandom: Mr. Love Queen's Choice
Word Count: 1.7k
Notes:
Was on a late night drive to de-stress
Gave me the idea to write this little beauty
Enjoy~
It was well past 7PM.
The sun had finished setting in the sky, replacing the pink and purple hues with a dark blue night sky scattered with twinkling stars. As the night sky enveloped Loveland City, Mia remained at her desk, working and typing away on her computer; her eyes practically glued to the screen.
Everyone in the office had long left the building. Well all except her and her co-worker, Anna. who stood at her office door, watching her with a worried look on her face, she knocked on her door to get her attention, “Mia? You’re still here?”
Mia briefly looked away from the bright screen, seeing Anna before focusing back on her work in front of her, “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry I thought everyone was gone already. I’ve just been working on fixing up this report… It has a lot of errors…”
“...Aren’t you tired? Or at least hungry? You know you could always come back to it tomorrow..” She spoke, concern laced in her voice.
Mia shook her head, “No can do Anna, knowing how Victor is, I do not want to have any mistakes on this report. I’ll be fine, I ate something earlier. I just have a few more errors to fix up. I’ll be done soon. Don’t worry about me.” She spoke as she typed, the only sounds that could be heard in the room was the sounds of her breathing, the ticking clock on the wall and the clicking and clacking sounds of her keyboard and mouse.
Anna sighed, letting out a quiet chuckle as she smiled, knowing very well how Mia can be when it comes to her job. She chose not to push it and let her do her thing,
“Alright, don’t stay too long now. Have a good rest of your night. I’ll see you in the morning.” She soon left as she said this.
Mia nodded as she continued working, surely it wouldn’t take too long to fix the little errors she had left, right?
…Wrong.
After fixing said errors, she found even more errors which revealed even more errors and more missing plot holes which practically unraveled the whole report! Another hour had passed and Mia finally felt the exhaustion finally catch up to her, she rubbed at her eyes, letting out a yawn, she looked at the time, “Crap… It’s already 8?”
She muttered as she blinked away the tiredness in her eyes, she just had to finish this, she would not be able to sleep if she left the report as it is. She stretched her arms before typing away again.
Unaware that her boyfriend, Victor, had been standing at the doorway the whole time, or at least for the past 20 minutes or so.
It wasn’t until she started typing away that he finally spoke up, bringing attention to his presence, “Dummy.. Why are you still working? Don’t you realize how late it is?” He scolded lightly, walking over to her, a worried look in his eyes.
Mia jumped at the sound of Victor’s voice, her head turning to look at him, sighing in relief, “Victor! Don’t scare me like that!” She huffed as she shook her head, “I’m aware of what time it is, I was trying to finish up my work. Why are you here?” She looked up at him as he leaned against her desk, leaning over slightly to tuck away stray hairs from her face as well as gently stroke her hair.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the past 2 hours, my love. You didn’t answer so I decided to come here to see what you’ve been doing…” He softly spoke, his tone becoming soft and tender.
Mia glanced down at her desk, moving around the piles of papers she had surrounding her at the moment, in search of her phone. She finally found it, trying to turn it on only for the screen to remain black. “Damn it.. My phone must have died. I’m sorry love if I made you worry.” She looked at him again, "Please, forgive me for that.” She gently grasped onto the hand that was stroking her hair, gently placing a soft kiss to his palm.
Victor softly smiles, “Dummy.. You never let me rest easy.” He gently booped her nose, making her giggle as her cheeks flushed lightly at the affection.
She looked at the computer screen with a soft sigh, “I was just trying to finish this report but it ended up unraveling and now it’s all over the place…” She whined as she ran her fingers through her hair in slightly exasperation and frustration.
Victor nodded in understanding, “I understand, darling. I know how hard you work but you’ve been working on it for how long now? Several hours? With little rest and not enough energy you will not be able to work efficiently like that. I think you should just leave it for now. There is always tomorrow.” He spoke, trying to coax her into leaving.
Mia shook her head, “No I can’t. I want to finish this.” She spoke stubbornly and dismissively as she tried to go back to work.
But Victor was not having it. Not one bit. “Mia. It’s time to stop.” He sternly spoke, placing his hand over hers to prevent her from doing more.
Mia looked up at him, frowning, “Victor…”
“No, Mia. You’re exhausted. It’s time to stop. You can come back to it later. Now it’s time to go home.” He stared at her, the worried look in his eyes still present. He then softened his gaze, his tone soft once more, “Please? I just don’t want you to overwork yourself to an unhealthy degree, my love.”
Mia sighs as she looks from Victor to her computer, moving to close the document and shut down her computer, standing up as she puts away the piles of papers into a neater pile. She turned to face him, a pout on her face, knowing that she couldn’t get her way.
He gently pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly as he nuzzled his nose against hers, “You can pout at me all you want, you know I’m right.”
“Yeah yeah…” She muttered, burying her face against him, relaxing and taking in his scent as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “All this coming from the one who always overworks himself… you big meanie..” She muttered, as she held onto him.
Victor lets out a soft laugh, “I’ve learned from a certain dummy to not work my life away. I’ll accept being a big meanie if it means you get to come home.” He kisses her forehead, gently nudging her head to get her to look at him.
Mia looked up at her boyfriend, getting lost in his eyes as she softly smiled, knowing very well that she could never be mad at him. “That dummy must have been pretty smart if she was able to convince you to not work your life away.”
Victor smiles, being able to see that beautiful smile that made his heart pound within his chest. “Mm, maybe she is pretty smart.” He gently rests his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes.
“Well I’d hope she is smart!” She softly giggled as she nuzzled him gently, feeling more affectionate after sitting at her desk for several hours.
He laughed again, leaning down to capture her lips in a soft yet passionate kiss. One that she melted into and reciprocated. He wrapped his arms around her waist holding her close as the kiss deepened slightly.
Her hands gently tangled in his hair as she relaxed more into the kiss, her cheeks flushed as the kiss alone made her feel weak in the knees, she grasped onto him as much as she could. After a while, he was the first to pull away, smiling as he breathlessly spoke, “Come on, let me take you for a drive before going home. That always helped me feel more at ease after a long day at work.”
Mia nods as she pulls away from his arms to gather her belongings. Victor walked over to the door as she made sure everything was turned off. Once she was ready, she walked over to Victor, who held out his hand to her.
She gladly took his hand as they walked out of the office building, making their way to Victor’s car. He opened the passenger door for her, helping her get in before shutting it and walking around to the driver’s side.
Once they were all set to go, Victor started the car; the engine roaring to life as he pulled out of parking, heading into the once bustling city.
Mia looked out the window as they passed several buildings and shops that were either closing or already closed, the street lights casting shadows along several trees and cars as they drove in the direction of home.
She relaxed in her seat, the exhaustion taking over her once again. Her eyes fluttered close as they peacefully drove in silence. It wasn’t long until she soon drifted off to sleep, allowing herself to finally rest at last. Victor glanced over at her when they were stopped at a stoplight.
He couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on his face, his heart beating wildly in his chest at the sight before him. He couldn’t help but to stop time at this exact moment, to fully capture how beautiful the love of his life looked, peacefully sleeping.
Victor’s smile widened as a soft look took over his features, letting out a soft chuckle, he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear as he softly whispered.
“Dummy… Get some rest. We’ll be home soon…”
#mlqc#mlqc fanfic#mlqc fluff#mr love queen's choice#mlqc victor#mlqc li zeyan#victor mlqc#mr love victor
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tw: steroids, asthma, health trauma? (if that's a thing i'm not sure)
hello! so i'm a little unsure about if what i'm dealing with counts as trauma, or just stressful, or what, so i was hoping you guys could help me figure out what's going on with me?
i'm eighteen years old, and i have asthma. i know it's technically one of those things you can grow out of? and i don't live the healthiest lifestyle, but i play a sport, have an outdoor/semi laborious job, etc. But it's a big part of my life.
I've been on daily steroids since early middle school i believe-- six or seven years? It might be longer but I'm not 100% sure of the timing. Before that, I was diagnosed with asthma after incidentally describing to my mother that i can't ever seem to completely take a deep breath. Until I was put on steroids, I could only ever seem to fill my lungs 75% or so.
I take daily steroids, and even so, occasionally I've been briefly hospitalised or brought to the doctor for bad attacks, after which I have to take heavier steroids for a week or so. Last time was years ago, but I think about it a lot. I was on a ventilator for about eight hours in the emergency room, after I had spent the day before at school tired and lightheaded, feeling extremely sick. It turned out my oxygen levels had dropped dangerously low; hence the ventilator.
Even with my daily meds, I need emergency albuterol sometimes, which has bad side affects like heart palpitations and shaking. If I'm sleeping and need it, my dreams change to chaotic black and white swirling shapes with red spots.
I get triggered by sounds or visuals of heavy breathing (like on tv) and it can induce panic attacks. I have the memories of being on the ventilator, and lying in bed not having enough air to get up and get my meds or call for help. Lying there wondering if I would wake up in the morning.
Writing this all down makes me realise... it's scary. But no one talks about asthma! It's all "out of shape" people or "not caring about your body". I'm scared! I'm angry! What would my life be like if I didn't have it? And with all the shit I've been through, why am I embarrassed that I have asthma?
I'm sorry this is so long. I guess I'm both dealing with the stress of it all but I don't feel like I can truly be stressed about it since it's just asthma?
Hi anon,
I’m so sorry you’re dealing with asthma - it’s one of my own personal co-morbidity health issues - so I jumped at the opportunity to validate your diagnosis and experiences.
I wanted to start by saying that any medical diagnosis is hard, and though maybe you’ll “grow out” of it one day, there’s also a chance you won’t, and there can be a bit of a grieving process to have to acknowledge that loss of “healthy body” when it comes to both your age, but also with the societal-culture we live in. Ableism is rampant, and sometimes it’s more of an unconscious bias from those around you, a desire to dismiss the medical needs in favor that “youth” win out.
But this can be dangerous when it comes to our condition, and considering you’ve needed steroids for years, there are certain side effects from the medication to be mindful of as well. None of this means that you cannot have a full, functional, and wonderful life! And I think that’s where it’s important to advocate for chronically ill persons, as well as push against the narrative that a successful life only fits within very specifics able-bodied norms.
It’s a fine line to tip toe on - one where we acknowledge the struggles (article with symptoms, impacts, and support groups) so we do not experience worsening mental health from denial on top of everything else, but also find ways to life our own lives to the fullest with the adaptations we may need, but with practice, becomes easier and more natural as times goes on.
Either way, I wish you well <3
- Mod Kat
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and (I promise I'll leave you in peace after this) for the ANGST (my beloved); “ i’m never letting go of you. i missed you so fucking much. ”, “ yes. i am telling you what to do. (ect)" or 'x wakes y from a nightmare'. for pinocchio or lampwick (together or one of them interacting with a completely different character)?
I'm sorry, you probably would have liked some actual quality content with such good ideas, but all I could see was "August&co's adventures with trauma", so that's what I wrote lmao
SOFT(ish) ANGST PROMPTS
X wakes Y from a nightmare.
Pinocchio only hears the ruckus coming from the other room because he'd been awake already.
The Fairy would have told him to get in bed even though he's not sleepy, but this house doesn't have rules as strict as hers. August said that he can come ask for help when he wakes up in the middle of the night, or entertain himself until he's dozed off again, so long as he's not too loud and he stays inside the house - the former is still a bit hard for Pinocchio to do, but he has toys to play with aplenty now, at any hour of the day. He was piling building blocks with great focus, in fact, until he heard the noise.
He wonders if it might be Gina, for a moment, but the little duck is still sound asleep on his pillow, so she can't be the one to blame. No, his first suspicion was right - it is coming from the next room over, which Mr Marco said used to be the guest room and is now August's bedroom.
That gives Pinocchio pause. He's not sure it's his business to check what's going on in other people's rooms, but he doesn't like the idea of something happening in the wee hours of the night, while everyone else is asleep. The Fox and the Street Cat always used to do that, to break into other people's houses while they slept, to steal from them or to take them away, and sure, there's no way those two are in Storybrooke right now, but…maybe there's people just like them, instead. Only worse, because there are tools in this world that he couldn't have even imagined in his homeland, and that would make burglars even more dangerous.
He mulls it over for a bit more, but he knows he'll never be able to concentrate again until he sees what's going on, so he pushes himself to his feet and goes to the door, cracking it open to peer into the hallway. It's almost entirely dark, which means he's not being mistaken and that there's no one still awake and wandering around for a midnight snack - his wooden legs clicking as he tiptoes towards August's room are the only audible sound, aside from the ones originating from the room itself, which come in louder and clearer the closer Pinocchio gets to it.
It's almost like August's speaking with someone, but there's no second voice raising, so he must be talking to himself, and he doesn't sound best pleased, either. Pinocchio hesitates before knocking on the door - he's got first-hand experience with how grown-ups react to being interrupted halfway through something - but he has an unpleasant feeling about it, and he can tell the time still, besides. It's close to two in the morning. August should have a good reason for talking to himself at such an hour, and if he doesn't, at least they could keep each other company. Maybe.
The chatter stops after the first knock. After the second, Pinocchio hears the telltale creaking of a bed when someone gets up from it, and then a few approaching footsteps before the door swings open in front of him.
"Hey, kid." August is smiling thinly at him, but it doesn't feel very genuine. His face looks tired and drawn, his hair tousled, and the shirt he wears to bed is more than a little rumpled. "Is something wrong?"
Pinocchio just stares at him for a moment, unsure of how to reply. He's better at that kind of stuff than he was when he arrived, but he's always oscillated between being called disrespectful and being deemed the politest child around, with no in-between, and Storybrooke has weird rules about that, too. Back home, for example, it was customary to call older folks grandmother or uncle or aunt, as a sign of respect, but August is too young for that, and when Pinocchio tried to address Mr. Marco as grandfather the old man pulled a very strange face, so he's still on the fence about whether he's behaving well or not.
So instead, he simply says: "You were talking in your sleep."
"Was I?" August groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. "What…what was I saying?"
"I don't know. I couldn't hear very well." Pinocchio frowns up at the man, hit by a sudden idea. "Were you having a bad dream? Those aren't very nice."
He would know, too. He used to have all kinds of nightmares at some point, about the Fairy, and Romeo, and people breaking into his bedroom window, but they've gotten better since he came here. He hadn't thought August could be having the same problem, but then again it would make sense, considering that they're almost the same person.
"Something of the sort." August's smile stiffens a bit, then, but before Pinocchio can ask about it it's become normal again, and the man crouches down to be on an eye level with him, ruffling the boy's hair. "Thank you for coming to check on me. I'm sorry I woke you up, though."
"You didn't. I couldn't sleep."
"How so? Are you alright?"
Pinocchio shrugs, not particularly worried. There's never any explanation as to why he can't fall asleep, usually; sometimes his legs won't stop moving, other times his brain will be filled with so many things it feels about to burst. In any case, there's nothing either of them can do.
But he's already been quite brave tonight, so he doesn't think he's going too far when he asks, haltingly: "Can I stay with you, though?"
He's not sure who he's requesting it for, if himself or August, but maybe it can help them both at the same time, really. He's not exactly happy at the thought of retracing his steps through the pitch black hallway and towards his room, but he doesn't like the idea of August being alone after a bad dream, either - Pinocchio had Gina with him, at least, when it happened. Everything looks worse when you're alone, especially if it's in the dark.
If August is surprised by the question, though, he doesn't let it show. "Yeah, come on in," he says, after a beat. "I'd like the company."
"Really?" Pinocchio finds himself smiling broadly, heavy with relief. He hadn't really hoped for the other to agree, deep down. It used to be much harder to be indulged, before. "Do I get a story, too?"
August's own grin widens to match his, and he stands up again, opening the door a little more and reaching out to take the boy's hand. "Maybe. We'll see how it goes."
It's not a yes, yet, but Pinocchio will take it. Even if he can't persuade August to tell him something to lull him to sleep, the two of them will surely do better together than they would alone, and maybe avoid nightmares as a whole, too.
Gina…well. Gina can survive a night on her own. Not even cannon blasts would wake her when she's like this, after all.
#bewilderedmoth#ask meme#fanfic#pinocchio swap#pinocchio#ouat#august booth#istg if tumblr opposes me again ill bite#anyway. it's been. a few difficult pnb episodes okay I was STRESSED kahdkdhdkdbdkdj#also the grandfather/uncle thing is canon he does it all the time it's sweet as fuck honestly
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