#had to repost this because it wasn't showing up in the tags | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neouture · 10 months

Text

Senses

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Words: 4,146

Genre: Smut (18+), angst if you squint

Includes: Fem!Reader, established relationship. Haechan is jealous and somewhat possesive bc of a silly little hug drunk Renjun gave you. Arguing, silent treatment, make up sex. Smut warnings under the cut !

Author's note: Possesive Haechan lives in my mind rent free. This story might not be for everyone because it includes very specific kinks that not everyone is into, but I had a lot of fun with this. If you like it, please leave a comment/ask. I also now have a ko-fi account, the link it's in my pinned post, in case anyone is interested in leaving a tip ! That's totally up to you tho, my stories are free for everyone. It's just another way to support (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) I'm reposting this bc I posted it yesterday but it wasn't showing up in the tags so hopefully they work now!

Smut warnings: I feel like this is the time to reveal I have an impregnation kink so bear with it. Dirty talk, teasing, you're somewhat turned on by Haechan's possesiveness in all honesty. Oral sex (f. receiving), mentions and fantasies of impregnation, impregnation kink, unprotected sex (stay safe ! ), creampie.

If looks could kill, Renjun would've had a fatal ending.

Way more fatal than the fate you are transiting right now, sitting in the passenger seat while Haechan's gaze shoots darts into the road as if it’s a target, surrounded by an overwhelming silence that not even the street sounds and the city’s bustling can ease.

If looks could kill, Renjun would’ve collapsed next to you the second he decided to wrap one of his arms around you in a warm, brotherly hug. One that, seemingly so innocent, was misinterpreted by your boyfriend from afar.

“Haechan,” you sigh, but it’s useless yet again. No matter how many times you’ve said his name on the way back home, it seems as though you're speaking to a wall. A stubborn wall that doesn't listen, in which your words bounce back and are interiorized with shame and embarrassment when you realize that all you’re left with is the palpable tension inside his car.

You can see said tension in the prominent veins of his arms, his clenched jaw and the way he is just staring at the horizon, not daring to look at you. You can feel it every time you call out his name and his body stiffens a little. You can hear it in his heavy heartbeats and rapid breathing. You can smell it on your clothes, impregnated with alcohol and cigarette smoke.

But you can’t taste it. You can’t taste the tension when your mouth is dry, and your throat is aching with words gathered at the lump in your throat, threatening to spill out at any moment in an attempt to know what's going on in his mind.

“Look he didn’t mean it that way,” you murmur, trying to ignore the stinging tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. “He just- he just put his arm around me. It wasn’t- it didn’t mean anything”.

“Of course it didn’t,” it’s the only response you get, right when his car takes the street of the complex you two live in.

Whether it's because of the sound of his voice, or the fact that you're really close to knowing your true fate tonight, you feel somewhat relieved.

“He was tipsy,” you continue, resting your head against the cold, glass window.

“You weren’t,” Haechan cuts you short right when he enters the underground parking lot. The car becomes illuminated by a dim, warm light, just enough to catch a better glimpse of your boyfriend, but he still doesn’t look at you. “And you still let him put his hands on you”.

“Come on, Haechan!” you groan, frustrated.

His jealousy always gets the best out of you, but somehow it also manages for the worst of you to show through. It's a complicated situation you always find yourself in, when something like such happens. You don't really like that side of him, the jealous and possessive one, the one that feels entitled to you as a person. But at the same time, you really can't begin to hate it either.

It’s enticing.

“Get out,” he says while unbuckling his seat belt. He does so with a swift movement, only to turn around the car just to open the door for you.

He is upset, and pissed, and really angry, but he can’t get himself to stop being a gentleman to you. What happened tonight it's not your fault, anyways, but he secretly wishes you'd pushed Renjun away.

In a way, Haechan thinks it’s your fault. Even when it isn’t.

But you still follow his orders to a t, getting out of the vehicle while he holds the door for you, closing it right behind you with a loud sound that makes you feel startled for a bit.

You know Haechan would never hurt you, but this side of him it's such a scary contrast to his usual personality. It’s somewhat unsettling, to say the least, but it is never frightening.

“You’re going to give me the silent treatment?”

After a minute or two, the lack of response gives you a one. You follow him defeated through the elevator doors that take you to the lobby complex, and lose all hope in getting him to talk.

Plus, it’s getting late, and you’re tired, so if Haechan doesn’t want to talk now, you’re not going to push him further anymore —it’s probably best to deal with all this tomorrow morning, after a good night of sleep.

You stop trying to get his attention when the doors of the lobby's elevator close, and just opt to stand right beside him in silence —you've said so much already, from the minute he dragged you out of the bar you and your friends were attending to celebrate Jaemin's birthday, to the final moments in his car; if he didn’t say anything then, he is probably not going to say anything now.

So you accept the silent treatment, walking alongside with him to your apartment door. He pulls out his keys, opens it for you and gets inside without even sending a look your way. You close the door behind you and watch as he throws his jacket to the living room couch, standing awkwardly while he figures out exactly what to say.

“Why did you-”.

“I’m tired,” you cut him short, passing by him through the living room and into your bedroom. “I’m going to bed”.

Like him, you pass by without sparing him a glance. Without even acknowledging his presence there, like you’re just announcing another part of your routine to no one in particular.

“You’re not,” it’s when you feel his hand wrapping around your wrist, and stopping you from leaving the scene, that you turn around to face him —you can still see the tension, in his knitted eyebrows and that gaze of regret he holds. “Let’s talk”.

“I wanted to talk,” you murmur, getting yourself out of his grip. “I spent all the ride back home trying to talk, but you weren’t even looking at me”.

“I was just trying to find the right ti-”.

“What even is the right time?” there’s annoyance in your voice, and a part of you wishes your emotions hadn't escalated too quickly. But if there's one thing that pisses you off, is how things are always done the way he wants them, when he wants them. “When you feel like talking?”

“Listen to me-”.

“No, Haechan, you listen to me,” you sigh, leaving your purse on the couch, right next to his jacket. “Renjun just put his arm around me, he wasn’t- it wasn’t even an actual hug. And yeah- he was tipsy, but he just- he wasn’t hitting on me or anything, God!”

The more you speak, the more stressed you become. Now that the words are falling from your lips, and you’re revisiting the facts, you realize how unprovoked Haechan’s anger truly is.

“You say he's one of your best friends, but you can't even trust him,” your hands travel all the way to your hair, pushing it back and away from your face. The despair is making your body feel warm, and you can even feel a thin layer of sweat gathering on your forehead and nape. “You say you love me, but you can’t even trust me”.

“I trust him,” Haechan murmurs, “and I trust you”.

“Then what is your problem?”

“I am the fucking problem,” the black-haired groans, imitating your previous actions by pushing his hair away from his face. It’s not usual for him to raise his voice, let alone sound this frustrated —the unexpected loud tone makes you swallow thickly. “I know it’s not your fault but I can’t help it”.

“It is not my fault,” you repeat in a whisper, trying to give some echo to his own words. “If it’s not my fault, then why are you acting like it is?”

Haechan goes quiet. Not because he wants to give you the silent treatment again, but because he doesn't know what to say.

Is there anything to say, anyway? You're right, and he feels like an asshole.

“Because,” he begins, all worked up because he believes the answer is rather obvious. Isn’t it? He’s acting like this because you’re his. Because no other man has the right to touch you, or even look your way. You’re his, and he doesn’t like to share. “Because you’re only mine”.

The sudden response makes your heart skip a beat or two. Is it wrong to feel something just by seeing him this angry? Is it wrong to feel proud of hearing him say something so possessive like that?

You feel conflicted —you’re enjoying this when you’re not supposed to.

“Yours?” you ask, with an eyebrow slightly cocked.

“Yes, mine,” you're not quite sure when it happened, but your bodies are now facing each other. You can smell the tension in his cologne, along with the remains of cigarette smoke and the alcoholic beverage Renjun threw Haechan’s way at the club.

“You’re so entitled,” you let out a soft scoff, one that does nothing to ease Haechan's sharp gestures. “Yes, you’re my boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean I belong to you”.

It's, perhaps, the frustration talking. You know what he means, but it's your anger the one to make the first move.

However, you're not expecting him to laugh.

You expected him to counter attack, to get even angrier.

You expected him to raise his voice, or be silent at all.

But you weren't expecting to see the corners of his lips rising in a half smile, one as mischievous at the comment you just made.

“What?”

“Do I need to remind you how mouthy you get when I'm fucking you?”

You stare at him for what feels like ages, not daring to blink or break eye contact. He is also staring at you, but far from looking angry or frustrated, he looks amused. It's like the roles have been reversed, and it's you now who doesn't know what to say.

“What- does that have to do with this?”

“You say you don’t belong to me,” Haechan sighs, the tip of his tongue poking just slightly through his cheek. “But you never seemed reluctant about me owning you when we're in our bed”.

You can feel your cheeks getting warmer, and a weird tension in your lower abdomen you’ve grown to be familiar with over the past years. It’s probably not the greatest time to get aroused, but you can’t control yourself when it comes to him.

Just like he can’t control himself when it’s about you.

“That’s- it’s different,” you weakly attack.

“Is it?”

Haechan can tell you're getting nervous. By the way your shoulders are moving at a faster rate, and you seem to be struggling to look at him, he knows he has hit a nail. Perhaps this is a way to make a point —the one he has been wanting to make all night long.

“How so?”

The words get caught up in your throat again, and the fact that you don't have an actual response makes you feel uneasy.

“If it's any different, then that means you're a liar,” he says, guiding one of his hands to your chin whilst lifting it up. You can hear the tension in the nuances of his voice, those who seem mocking and provocative. Those looking to make you lose a game you didn't even know you were playing, “so when are you lying?”.

His hand strokes the sides of your face, and then places a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is enough to make you gulp, but it’s a nice contrast to his harsh and filthy words.

“Are you lying to me when you say you belong to me, and that you’re mine?” Haechan asks, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “Or are you lying to me right now, just to rile me up and get what you want?”.

That wasn't precisely a conscious plan, but now that he says so it seems that all your efforts to get him all worked up were to end up just like this.

“I just- Haechan”.

“What?” he asks you. The hand that was caressing your cheek is now placed at your waist, pulling him closer to his body.

You can feel the tension when his bulge brushes against your abdomen, hard and throbbing, pressing against you. It’s too tempting to stop, too inviting to know what he has to say without using no words.

So you allow him to touch you, to press his body against yours to make you feel how much he needs you. There is really no point in resisting, because you’ve wanted this all night long.

“Pervert,” you whisper, panting when you feel his rough grip on your ass. “I bet you were thinking about this on the way back home”.

“And you weren’t?” Haechan scoffs, quietly. “I could see your thighs squeezing together every time you looked at me”.

Embarrassingly enough, he is not that far from the truth.

“I can’t help it,” you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to be closer to him. “I’m sorry”.

“Save your apologies for later,” his lips are dangerously close to yours, and you squirm between his arms when you feel his breath caressing your chin and jaw. “You’re going to need them for being such a liar”.

And, finally, you can taste the tension —it tastes like alcohol, cherries, and rage. Like mint and something else.

“Fuck,” you whisper in between kisses when you feel his teeth sinking on your lower lip, “Haechan”.

It doesn’t take him long to guide you to the bedroom, managing to walk the small, dark hallway with his hands all over your body and his eyes closed.

“Haechan,” you voice once again when he lays you down in the mattress, his skillful hands looking for the hems of your jeans and underwear to pull them off in one go. Truth be told, you’ve never seen him this desperate; his lips are all over your thighs and legs, kissing them sloppy while he caresses the sides of them. He’s sucking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh, marking you every now and then in places he knows he’s the only one entitled to see.

Everything is happening too fast, but you don’t want him to slow down —you’re just as desperate as he is.

“You’re fucking dripping,” Haechan groans when he catches a glimpse of your sticky folds, all glistening with your arousal, “shit”.

He doesn’t hesitate before hooking both of his arms under and around your thighs, keeping you still in place while his lips approach your throbbing cunt.

“You think Renjun could get you this wet?” Haechan hums against your thigh, his intimidating gaze looking up at you while you struggle to support your upper body weight with your arms. For an unknown reason, you feel your body melting and going numb at such comments.

“N-no,” you shake your head.

“Do you think your body would react to him like it does with me?” The soft and teasing kisses are killing you; his lips are licking and sucking everywhere but where you want them.

“No, Haechan!” The cries in your voice makes him grind his hips against the mattress, hoping to get even the slightest friction.

He wishes he could keep on teasing you, drive you insane just like you did to him back there at the club. But, truth be told, he can't spend another minute without feeling you, in all the sense of the word.

“Apologize, then,” Haechan says, brushing the tip of his nose against your throbbing clit. That single touch is enough to earn a whimper from you, and it is also enough to make you lose all logic and rationality within you —not that you have any whenever you're underneath him in your bed to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, clenching around thin air every time the word falls from your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry Haechan. I’m sorry”.

“Sorry for what?” the dark-haired asks again, acting oblivious to the situation. “What are you apologizing for?”

Whether it's mercy or pure neediness, his tongue unexpectedly laps at your wetness. He licks your slit and toys with your clit, just enough to provide you with some pleasure but without distracting you from your task.

“For- shit, for letting him touch me,” you sigh, kicking your head back. You’re not quite sure what exactly you’re sorry for, but you’re willing to say anything just to feel him. “For letting him- put his arm around me, fuck”.

Haechan smiles against your pussy. A genuine smile, one that can only indicate he’s feeling proud.

“See how easy it is?” he coos, continuing his ministrations on your clit, “you tell me what I want to hear, and I give you anything you want”.

Despite Haechan’s early accusations of you being a liar, you mean everything you say when you’re in bed. In fact, you're only brutally honest when he's deep inside you. When you've lost all your senses and sanity, and when all you are left with is pure bliss.

“I’m sorry,” you keep on chanting, latching your fingers against his dark locks in an attempt to bring him closer to you.

You know you're seconds away from coming, and he knows this too, so he allows you to manhandle him against you as much as you want. He hisses when you grip his hair particularly harsher, but he doesn’t stop; instead, he licks you ardently, looking forward to your orgasm.

“Show me how sorry you are, then,” he murmurs against you, his nose and chin shining with your own wetness. “Come”.

It’s the sight of him between your legs, along with his crude words and pretty eyes that pushes you to the edge. Your hands clasp the bed sheets beneath you, and your thighs threaten to close around him but he is quick to keep them apart with his hands.

“You’re getting shy now?” he teases you while you overcome your high, writhing underneath his hold. “Keep them open for me pretty, I want to lick you clean”.

Much against your body’s will, Haechan manages to keep you in place while he helps you through your orgasm, causing waves of overstimulation to wreak havoc inside you from your head to the tip of your toes.

“Haechan!,” you gasp when you feel him pulling away from your body, the sudden loss of contact making you feel somewhat relieved after the pinches of pain caused by the overstimulation.

His lips are bright peachy and swollen, all covered in your own orgasm.

“Too much?” Haechan asks, unbuckling his belt while getting rid of his clothes. You imitate him and do the same, discarding your blouse and bra somewhere along the room.

“No,” you shake your head, inviting him between your legs.

He positions himself in the middle, and the sight makes you clench around thin air yet again. His cock is hard and reddened, throbbing almost visibly in front of your eyes.

“You still think you can take me?” he asks yet again, trying to make sure you’re not sore from how aggressive his early ministrations were.

“I’ve been wanting you all night long, Haechan,” you murmur, wrapping your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t care about anything, I just want you to fuck me”.

He kisses your forehead, and then your chin. The tip of his cock is pressing against your clit and, at times, against your entrance, but he is still nowhere near being inside you.

“See,” Haechan whispers with his lips against your jaw. “I know you’ve apologized, but I still need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine”.

His words make you let out a quiet scoff.

“How come, exactly?”

“What if I came inside you?” Even the idea makes you gasp —half a gasp, that ends up sounding more like a moan, “hm?”

For this, he needs to feel you. So he loses no time pushing himself inside you until he bottoms out. You dig your fingernails into his biceps when you feel the tip of his cock brushing against a sensitive spot inside you, and it’s only then when he continues to tell you, perhaps, his filthiest fantasy.

“What if I got you pregnant?” It’s crazy, the rational part of you acknowledges. But the aroused one, the one that lacks logic, only gets even more turned on at his words. “That way, everyone will know what we do when we’re alone”.

“Shit,” you cry, clenching around his cock.

He smiles when he feels it.

“You’d like that, don’t you?” After a couple of slow, delicate thrusts, he begins to acquire a faster pace when you get used to having him inside you. “You're squeezing my cock so hard”.

“You want to- get me pregnant?”

Even the words falling from your lips make you clench around him yet again, and it takes him a lot of effort not to come just by those gestures alone.

“That way everyone would know you’re mine,” Haechan sighs, pistoning deeper inside you. “Everyone would know that I’m the one who fucks you good, the one you allow to come inside that pretty pussy of yours”.

You whimper at his words, nibbling on your lower lip while trying to contain every lewd sound that threatens to escape your lips.

“I bet you’d- look so pretty like that,” the more aroused he gets, the less he cares about what he says —it seems as though he’s not having any inhibitions, and you love it. “Fuck”.

It's a wild fantasy, but you two seem to share it. You’d be lying if you say that the mere thought of carrying his child is not appealing to you, because it is.

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling him losing all pace and rhythm of his hips. “Why don’t you get me pregnant, then?”

The dirty talk does wonders to him, because the minute you start voicing his thoughts it’s the minute his movements become sloppier, rushed, and faster. He wants to come, he desperately needs it.

But he wants you to come first.

“I will,” he groans through gritted teeth. “If that’s what you want, then I will”.

Your heart feels fuzzy, and the tension on your lower abdomen starts increasing with each thrust. It’s not going to be long before you come around him, for the second time in a row, and as much as you’d like to savor this moment, you’re too desperate to take your time.

“Fuck,” Haechan curses under his breath, feeling his arms going numb —the pleasure is too overwhelming for him to maintain a steady pace, but he makes an effort. “Make me come, baby. Squeeze my cock until I come inside you”.

The dirty talk, combined with his gaze and the future promise of offering you that something only he can give it to you, makes you reach your orgasm again.

“Coming,” you cry quietly, wrapping your legs even tighter around his hips. You arch your back against him, and he hugs you tightly in place while he continues fucking your pussy, just as much as your grip allows him too.

“That’s it,” he praises, leaving wet kisses on your forehead and cheeks while you overcome your high. “Are you going to let me come inside you tonight? Fill you up with my cum?”

“Yes!” it’s all you manage to say in the midst of such a devastating arousal. “Yes, yes, Haechan”.

He buries his face on the crook of your neck, and keeps on fucking your swollen pussy until he achieves his orgasm too.

A hot, sticky feeling is quick to flood your tummy, as well as your inner thighs. He continues fucking you slowly and gently, even after coming, to prevent his arousal to leak out of you.

“Shit,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his neck so that he plops down on top of your body, “I can feel you”.

He hugs you into his embrace, while still inside you, and attempts to stabilize himself before leaving the bed to provide you with some wet towels and water. Truth be told, he wishes to stay like this forever, with your naked body underneath him, and his leaking cock inside you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “I know it’s-”

“Hey,” you cut him short, cooing softly. “We can talk about it tomorrow morning”.

He gets the sense that you're comfortable right now, despite the early fight, so he follows your plea compliantly.

“I’m an asshole,” Haechan jokes.

“Sometimes,” you scoff softly, finding his hazy gaze in the midst of the dim lights. “I’m glad you can acknowledge it”.

“And I’m glad you still keep up with it”.

#nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan smut #kpop smut #donghyuck smut #nct127 smut #nct smut

1K notes · View notes

ethereal-night-fairy · 3 months

Text

This dark vampire poly!141 x hostage!reader idea is based off a comment I got on one of my works on Ao3 I would love to tag them if they were on Tumblr but I don't think they are.

Comment : Oh I'd love a vampire au! An idea for it if you are open to consideration: the 141 have been around for centuries, John pretty much turned all of them starting with Simon, then with Johnny, and then with Gaz being the youngest (although Gaz is still over a century old). Reader, of course, is human, moving to a new town to start over completely and ends up running into one of them. And they just know that reader is the missing piece that they had been looking for--the one that is the last to be bound to them. Because for an immortal creature it only makes sense that they would, in even just the name of species preservation, have multiple mates dictated by fate, instinct, or what have you :)

This sounds like a great premise for a vampire au. Also what if Knight price was turned in the medieval ages by a vampire lord he was tasked to kill and ended up being turned as he killed the last of the vampire kin for the English king. He fled obviously when he realised what happened letting his knights think he was killed in battle.

Time passes and he doesn't age, he watched his loved ones from a distance growing old and having children before ultimately passing away. It pains him that he lives like an animal hunting for blood in the forest unable to live a normal life.

But he still wishes to do, to be good . So as his powers build and the sun doesn't scorch his skin anymore. He joins the army century after century to regain some sense of humanity. (That's a horrible way to regain humanity if I'm honest, though in his defence he fell for the propaganda and thought he was doing a good thing.) But the bloodlust becomes so much worse the more he kills. The more blood stains his hands the more he longs for the chaos and violence.

He gathers companions along the way. Men like him that were on the brink of death but had so much to live for. He couldn't let them die he just couldn't! By the 21st century he had his little taskforce. His boys, his lovers, his family but someting was missing. What could it be? They lived comfortably with the wealth they had accumulated. They had their buffet layed out for them on the battlefield. What more could they want?

But something was out of place. Even with his lovers, life was becoming bleak when all they saw was violence and bloodshed. That was until they found a delicate little hostage in their capture or kill mission. Scared little thing you were tucked away in the corner of a bedroom, chained to the wall. You'd do nicely as their pet. They bet your blood tastes just as sweet as your tears.

Their reply: Oh I love it! Johnny being a warrior that at the Battle of Culloden, fighting for Scottish independence from the British, happens to die while fighting an infuriating man. Said infuriating man, dying by the Scottsmans hand, just so happens to be lieutenant Simon. Price having already planned to watch over Simon (he said he wouldn't get attached) yet he can't help but to turn Johnny too. Neither are happy at first, they have their differences, but they can't deny the bond and love that forms. Then the three of them meet Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick in world war ii. So bright and full of life, passionate about fighting for his country and ending Nazi regime. The man runs right into a fight, saving dozens upon dozens of men, and the three know they can't let him remain dead when the inevitable comes. And Gaz, well, he keeps that light within him because at least now he can make sure that the war to end all wars wasn't done in vain.

I just wanted to show off their ideas too since it's what inspired my little snippet. I not sure if I'll turn this into a actual thing though.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

438 notes · View notes

cooliestghouliest · 5 months

Text

PUTTY, chapter one

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: Eddie has a little brother. Eddie’s little brother has a babysitter.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. fun fact that this was one of the first Stranger Things fanfics i ever wrote. it was originally titled She Was Straight From Hell, But You Could Never Tell, and featured Eddie alongside an OC. i’ve changed it to be reader-insert, because that seems to be more in my writing wheelhouse nowadays. this fic will be multiple parts — it begins with backstory, but will eventually branch off into a universe of little smutty ficlets where Reader will corrupt virgin!Eddie as much as humanely possible.

—

Eddie hadn't known about the existence of his little brother until two months ago, when Al Munson showed up in the middle of the night with a small child in tow. Eddie didn't even know his dad was out of prison again, and yet here he was, in the flesh, a little boy with a mop of black curls resembling Eddie's own cradled in his leather jacket-clad arms.

Al was lucky Wayne was working or else this family reunion would have gone south fast.

While Wayne wasn't Al's biggest fan, Al was Eddie's dad, and Eddie would always hold onto as many moments with his father as he could get, no matter how sparse, and no matter how much of a self-serving piece of shit asshole Al Munson truly was.

But Eddie didn’t see it like that. Eddie saw it like this: His dad lived a hard life. His dad struggled with addictions. His dad lost a wife, just as Eddie had lost a mother. His dad tried his best with what he had.

Deep down, Eddie knew these were all just sorry excuses, but he kept that truth tucked away, not wanting to deal with the reality that Al truly only cared about himself.

He already had one dead parent. If he cut his dad out of his life, he’d basically have two.

"When'd you get out?" Eddie asked, stepping aside so Al could enter. His eyes followed the child, brows furrowed. The trailer was always Al's first stop on his freedom tour and the older man had always brought some sort of baggage along with him -- never a little kid, though. What the hell kind of trouble had his dad gotten into this time?

"Few days ago," Al replied, heading for the living room. He placed the sleeping child down on the worn sofa, then straightened and faced Eddie. "Listen, son, you gotta do me a favor. I'm not out long this time. I might've robbed an ATM or two last night. I'm kinda on the lam."

Al didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish at his wrongdoing.

Eddie was used to this. Even when Al was a free man, he was never a free man for long. He didn't think his dad knew how to coexist among non-inmate citizens. Eddie didn't think his dad even wanted to. Prison was a creature comfort for the elder Munson. Eddie wasn't necessarily mad at that fact. He was happy when Al was locked up, because then at least he knew where his dad was. Otherwise, Eddie worried his father would eventually get himself into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of, and Eddie would really never see him again.

Eddie was also used to Al showing up after months and months, sometimes even years and years, such as now, always asking for favors.

"Who is that?" Eddie asked, pointing towards the couch, not being able to ignore the other human in the room any longer.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I need your help with.” Al rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, no way to do this other than to just say it. That there's your little brother, Eddie. His name's Oliver. And I need you and Wayne to look after him while I'm gone."

"My... what..." Eddie stammered, face scrunching up. He expected Al to burst out laughing and admit he was just fucking around, and that this tiny sleeping stranger was actually just the kid of a fellow convict buddy. Maybe it was said convict buddy’s turn to rob ATMs tonight, leaving Al the babysitter. Irresponsible. Unlikely. And, turns out, untrue.

With Al's silence, Eddie knew his dad’s admission wasn't a joke.

Eddie was beyond confused now.

"Dad, how... you've been in prison for six years!"

"Conjugal visits," Al answered with a bit of a smug shrug.

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck? Wayne can't afford another kid that's not even his... and I'm in school still, I can't watch him... this isn't... I don't know how..."

But Al was already making his way to the door.

"I know you'll figure it out. I can always count on you, my boy," Al prided, tone cheery as if the favor he'd just asked of Eddie was to give him a quick ride somewhere or find an old family recipe.

Al wasn't acting like he was ditching another Munson offspring off on his older brother. He was treating this like an issue of minor importance, just a little speed bump on an otherwise flat road.

Al Munson was not an upstanding person. Never had been, never would be. Because of this, Eddie shouldn't have been surprised or appalled, but here he was, standing with his mouth agape. Surprised. Appalled.

His dad was out the door with a lighthearted, "See ya 'round, son," and Eddie was left speechless in the middle of the living room.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne got over the new addition to the Munson household fairly quickly.

While he'd been livid at first, calling up all of Al's old friends he'd still had the numbers of to try and find out where his dumb shit of a younger brother was, Wayne eventually became resigned to the idea that he now had another little boy to rear and mold.

What else could he do?

Wayne took care of his kin, especially if they were innocent bystanders and had no say in being born in the first place. He'd raised Eddie, and although he knew the boy had his struggles, he didn't think he'd done too bad of a job.

Eddie never went hungry, always had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, and Wayne was the one who haggled Eddie's van down to a reasonable price so the boy could pay for it with his lunch box salary.

Wayne knew about the weed and the pills, but so long as Eddie stayed smart about where he was selling and who he was selling to, he didn't much mind Eddie's unconventional line of work. It helped his nephew stay somewhat social, and Wayne knew how important that would be for Eddie's future. If the boy was nothing but a lone recluse his whole life, he'd probably end up just like Al. Nobody wanted that.

Eddie was just about grown now. Sure, he was rearing twenty and still in his senior year of high school, but Wayne had an inkling that '86 would be Eddie's year.

Wayne had always thought about selling the trailer and buying an RV with retirement money once Eddie was out on his own. He wanted to travel the country for the remainder of his life.

The idea that he'd have to raise up another wild Munson for the next fifteen or so years caused a knot to form in his stomach.

Would Wayne even be around for that much longer? He may have been relatively healthy, and he was only in his mid 60's, but Wayne wasn't an idiot. He knew anything could happen at any time.

Wayne knew he needed help this time around. He figured he could count on Eddie here and there, but Eddie needed to focus on school this year if he planned on finally walking the stage. Because of this, Wayne decided to enlist the help of someone on the outside. Someone with experience.

So, he posted an ad in the Hawkins Post, looking for a full-time nanny for a five-year-old boy to start as soon as possible, and waited for a response.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne didn't have to wait long.

Two mornings following the job post, shortly after he'd returned home from work, he heard a knock on the trailer door.

When he answered, he saw a pretty young thing standing on the front stoop.

"Hi!" you greeted, then immediately began to ramble. "Are you Mr. Munson? I hope it's okay I just showed up... there wasn't a number listed, only an address, and I didn't know if you wanted me to write a response and mail it, but the ad seemed maybe a little urgent, so I thought, hey, what's the harm in just... showing... up..."

You trailed off, feeling silly for word vomiting during your first impression. He was watching you with a small smile, eyes flickering with what looked like amusement, especially as your cheeks began to color to the soft red of embarrassment.

Listing no number on the ad was intentional. He hadn't owned a rotary phone in about ten years, after having tried to cut back on bills, and he knew not just anyone would make the trek to Forest Hills for a potential job offer. He’d figured only committed applicants that wouldn't waste his time would follow through.

"I have a lot of experience," you continued on at his silence, almost as if you couldn't help it, compelled to divulge all the information you could in the first three minutes of meeting. Wayne found it endearing. "I used to babysit for three different families when I was in high school. And I have two little sisters. My mom and dad worked a lot growing up, so I spent a lot of time with them. Didn't get paid, but... I made sure they didn't die or anything..."

From their brief interaction thus far, Wayne knew he succeeded in his method of weeding out flakes. You were obviously serious about the position. He felt he was a decent judge of character, and he'd learned in life that sometimes over-explaining was synonymous with caring.

"Sorry," you said, forcing out a little laugh. "I guess I could have just introduced myself. You didn't really need to know all that." You shot your hand out, giving your name. "I'm here about the nannying gig. Um, obviously. That is, if I didn't already scare you off."

Wayne took your hand in both of his own, shaking it. He placated you with a grin. "It's a lot harder than that to scare off a Munson, sweetheart. Let's go inside and meet Olly."

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Although Oliver Munson was only five, he had a spectacular vocabulary and a limitless imagination. Wayne knew the boy was a little charmer, quite like how Eddie was when he allowed himself to be, when the teenager wasn't drowning himself in existential teenage angst and nonsense.

You fell under Olly's spell almost instantly.

And it seemed the little boy had fallen under yours as well.

Oliver didn't stop talking to you while you were there, and didn't stop talking about you after you’d left, asking when you’d be back and if next time you could take him to the trailer park's playground and maybe you two could watch G.I. Joe or He-Man together afterward.

Wayne had taken your number down before you’d left and had told you he'd be in touch soon.

Later that evening, after Eddie had gotten back from his club meeting at school, Wayne took the trip into downtown Hawkins to use the payphone and ask you if you wouldn't mind starting as early as tomorrow.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You were far from struggling for money.

Your father was a sought-after criminal prosecutor for the entirety of Indiana. Your mother was a real estate agent for high profile clientele who came from old family money; her father was CEO of a day trading business, and his father before him had been the same.

Although you likely would have never had to work a day in your life and could live a comfortable existence off of inheritance alone, handouts and the humdrum of an All-Play-and-No-Work lifestyle was never a dream of yours. That sounded so cookie cutter, so monotonous, so boring.

You liked to feel a sense of accomplishment. You liked setting goals and reaching them. You didn't want to freeload off of money that was gained from the capitalistic professions your parents were a part of. You wanted to be in control of your own finances and be the author of your own future, not have it already be etched into stone simply by being just another rich kid from Hawkins, à la the likes of the Carver's or the Cunningham's or the Harrington's.

You were ecstatic when you got the call from Wayne, asking you if you’d be willing to start the following day. He left for work at 2PM, so you’d have to be there before then, and would need to plan on staying until Wayne's nephew got home around six.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you felt a bit nervous, but the job itself wasn't the reason why that writhing feeling accompanied your excitement.

You had more than ten years of babysitting experience under your belt, and you were eager to get back into a job you actually enjoyed as opposed to trying out different careers to see what stuck and what didn't. Having graduated the spring before, you’d been taking an off year to save up money by working odd jobs around Hawkins to be able to buy your own apartment.

You’d worked as a florist for a few weeks, but it turned out your thumb was pitch black instead of green.

You worked as the personal assistant for a group of lawyers from a local law firm, but it turned out they just needed office eye candy and not someone to actually get any sort of work done.

You worked as a veterinary assistant, but it turned out the job was much more than just petting cats and dogs. You couldn't handle it when a sick animal would come in and there would be nothing anyone could do. Your heart broke more at that clinic than it had your entire life.

You were in between jobs when you’d decided to peruse the classified section of the Hawkins post. There, in the shortest blurb on the page, was a listing for a needed nanny, a full-time position offering negotiable pay.

The next bit was where the excitement wavered.

The listing was published by a Wayne Munson of the Forest Hills trailer park.

That had to be Eddie Munson's uncle. There was no way there were two separate Munson families living in the only trailer park in Kerley County.

You couldn't believe that you’d stumbled across this ad, that the geeky metalhead you’d crushed on since your freshman year of high school had a little brother you could be the potential nanny of.

You were two years younger than Eddie, but that hadn't stopped you from losing periods of time to daydreams about the way the wind ruffled his wild mess of curls on breezy days or the way his band tee sleeves always clung perfectly to the soft muscles of his biceps or the way his cheeks dimpled when he teased the other boys he sat with at lunch.

You’d always wanted to introduce yourself, but you didn't run in the same crowds -- you being on the cheer team and Eddie blasting Black Sabbath in the parking lot after his Hellfire meetings. You could never muster the courage. He seemed so carefree, so full of life, so effortlessly funny. Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend, had spoken to him once or twice and had told you how different he was than what other people said about him. He wasn't scary or mean or threatening, and instead was warm and silly and genuine.

But you knew how the people you spent your time around treated people like him. You knew your group of "friends" referred to him as a freak, a Satan worshipper, and did everything in their power to try to bully him into becoming a shell of himself. Thankfully, he never did -- it was almost as if Eddie absorbed the hatefulness and spent it tenfold by mocking the hilarity of the jock hierarchy that ruled the school, as well as using it to strengthen his own ability to embrace every misfit that walked the halls of Hawkins High.

You never introduced yourself because you were afraid he’d think you had an ulterior motive, that you’d be trying to talk to him as a joke or a prank. You knew the company you kept. You were sure Jason Carver had once or twice suggested you do just that, lead Eddie on and make a fool of him in front of the whole school.

You figured it'd be best to just stay away.

But now, you thought finding this ad was possibly a sign from the universe.

Maybe you were getting a second chance.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Eddie was running late.

He was supposed to be back home half an hour ago to relieve whoever Olly's new babysitter was of her duties, but the campaign had taken a shocking turn and Hellfire couldn't disband until it had commenced.

The night finally ended with Will's character decapitating Dustin's, and Eddie had to thwart an actual attack when Dustin leapt across the game table at Will in a bout of rage. Dustin was small but mighty, and Eddie had to physically wrestle the boy off of Will's neck, threatening to banish Dustin from the next few campaigns if he didn’t chill out. Henderson had huffed and puffed but had admitted defeat and apologized to Will for the attempted murder.

By the time Eddie arrived back to the trailer park, the sun had almost set. He pulled his van into his parking spot to the right of the trailer and shut it off. Stepping out, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, but came to a halt when he heard Olly's scream sound from behind the trailer.

Dropping his bag and beginning to run toward the noise, Eddie's heart fell to his stomach. Horrible images of what could possibly be pulling that sound from his little brother pervaded Eddie's mind. He had an overactive imagination to begin with, and something like this verbal cue only egged it on. "Olly!" he shouted, panic raising his voice. "Olly, are you okay?! What’s going on, where are --"

Eddie came to a halt when he found the boy in the backyard with a huge smile spread across his small, sweaty face. Olly had a fake crown on, one made of twigs and leaves, and he was carrying one of the biggest sticks Eddie had ever seen. He had a blanket tucked into the back of his shirt, the cloth a makeshift cape. A thin piece of metal, probably from one of the cars Wayne and Eddie sometimes worked on, was wrapped around his center, acting as armor.

Olly had just been playing.

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Eddie noticed your frame just off to the side. His eyes started from the ground up, noting the shiny red Docs donning your feet, moving up bare legs that were covered mid-thigh by a short black skater dress, one that hugged your curves in a way that had Eddie’s mouth going dry.

By the time he reached your face, your eyes were wide with amusement.

You’d been watching as he slowly drank you in. He didn't mean to ogle. He had to shake his head a few times to clear it, and when he did so, the face before him started looking more and more familiar.

"Wait," he started, head tilting. He spoke your name, tone riddled with confusion. "From high school?"

You were about to answer when Oliver cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to be ignored or to have his playtime interrupted any longer. You looked down at the boy, who pointed up to his head at his crown. You got the gist -- Olly wanted the game to continue. You could indulge him. You’d been doing it all day, and honestly you’d been having the most fun you’d had in a while.

You turned your attention back to Eddie, fixing your posture and jutting your chin out slightly. "I don't know who that is," you began, voice lilting. "I am Princess Guinevere of Kerley County and this here,” you brought your gaze back down to Oliver, “is my most loyal servant, Sir Olly of Castle Munson."

Eddie couldn't help the grin that broke out over his face at your announcement. He then took a moment to fully take in the rest of your appearance. You, too, had on a makeshift crown, this one made up of cherry blossoms and daisies. You had a flowing blanket tucked into the back of your dress, cascading down your back like a veil.

No fucking way were you, last year's cheerleading captain and prom queen, standing in his backyard playing fucking knights and princesses with his little brother. No fucking way.

Olly broke the silence by shouting out, "Hey, Eddie! Who are you gonna be?"

Eddie tore his eyes from you to focus on his brother. He pursed his lips to one side in thought, trying to come up with a character. He was usually quick on his feet when it came to creative play, but he had just spent the last three hours DM'ing a month-long DnD campaign. His brain felt shot. He was pulled from his introspective reverie by your soft, suggestive voice — no, sorry — the soft, suggestive voice of Princess Guinevere.

"Wanna be my dragon, Eddie?" you asked.

Eddie wasn't exactly sure why that made his breath catch in his throat.

He nodded dumbly, silent, then forced himself to speak because he didn't want to look totally lame in front of a Princess. "Okay. Yeah, I'll be your dragon."

You graced him with a smile before Oliver's tiny but booming voice cut through the air of the darkening night. "HEY! Dragons don't talk!" the boy stomped his foot and hit his stick against the muddy ground in annoyance.

A laugh bubbled from your throat and Eddie grinned, jumping into a wide-legged stance before outstretching his arms, tilting his head back, and roaring.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things

334 notes · View notes

itsonlydana · 4 months

Text

"I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You" | hobbit

➛ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

➛ When you get stood up by your date all you want to do is morph with the couch, eat ice cream and watch Pride & Prejudice. It's a shame your roommate/best friend Thranduil doesn't agree with those plans.

➛ warnings/tags: modern!au, roommate!au, friends-to-lovers, chef!thranduil, swf, kissing

➛ words: 9,3k

➛ an: sooo let's ignore that i said i wasn't writing anymore <3 i'm still not taking request but i have a few fics that i'll post over the next few weeks!

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The sound of keys turning in the lock sounds through your apartment before the door opens and closes, making you wince.

The piano music playing through the expensive stereo system is loud enough that you could blame your reaction for not reacting to it. After a brief moment, a deep voice echoes from the hallway, marked by an incredulous "Huh?" and followed by an urgent "What?" accompanied by hurried footsteps.

"Hello?! What– what are you still doing here? You should be dressed up and in a cab by now!"

Your roommate and best friend Thranduil rushes into the living room, you can see his tall figure out of your peripheral vision.

Not that it would change where he stands.

You don't bother to turn around and continue to hide between the mountain of pillows and blankets you had accumulated on the couch, watching the movie playing on the big screen in front of you.

"Uhh– Mister Bingley arrived from the North," you comment on the happenings of the Bennets' house, a spoonful of ice cream held to your mouth.

Thranduil steps closer, dropping his coat and a bag on the wing chair next to the couch. "What–"

Instead of answering his question, you let the ice cream melt on your tongue, mumbling a "5000 a year?" with a mouth full of chocolate.

"Talk to me, woman!"

"He's single!" you sigh happily and throw a dramatic hand in the air.

Before you can lower it again, Thranduil snaps and snatches your hand, cold fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you towards him. Finally, you look up to him and are confronted with your very baffled-looking best friend.

"If you don't tell me why you aren't on the way to the fabulous third date with Marcus-"

"Jake."

Thranduil rolls his eyes at the interruption: "Fine, why aren't you on the third date with Jake right now and instead sulk on the couch watching Pride & Prejudice again? I thought we promised to take a break from watching it anyway."

You push out your lower lip, pouting. "I'm not sulking," you say in a tone so drawn out it completely defiles your statement. Thranduil doesn't say anything, he just lets his gaze slowly wander over the blankets you are buried under, to the half-eaten ice cream bucket to the TV where the Bennet sisters are currently caught eavesdropping on their parents' conversation. He doesn't need words to express himself, the judgment is silent in words but loud in the raise of his dark eyebrow.

"Fine," you groan, admitting defeat. "He canceled."

Thranduil's gaze softens as he sits down next to you on the edge of the sofa and he slowly drops your hand from his grip. "He canceled," he repeats, eyes falling back to the ice cream.

"He canceled," you confirm with a sigh "Just like I predicted- so I don't know why I even bothered to dress up. I even bought that stupid dress just because he wanted to go out to this new fancy Italian place. He canceled and because I waited 15 minutes for him to not show up, standing outside - in the cold might I add- I think I am allowed to sulk a little!"

In the end, you had talked yourself into quite a rage and fall back into the pillows, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "And no, you said I should take a break from watching that movie but since you are not my mother I am allowed to watch whatever!"

You pierce him with a glare but only for a moment before you deflate.

"Sorry for getting all bitchy there," you shuffle around, hands searching for the remote to stop the movie.

"It's alright," Thranduil says and cocks his head. "Now that you are done, am I allowed to go after him and nail his balls to the ground for standing you up?"

A smile tugs on your lips as you shake your head. "No, you are not. I'm sure he has his reasons." The reason wasn't spelled out in the message but after hopping around in the dating scene for a while now, you know what ´I'm sorry but I don't think we really fit. You are a great person though!´ means.

It was nothing new, though it hurt the same as it did the first time.

"Well, unless there was a sudden death in his family I don't see a reason why he couldn't have canceled before the date," he huffs "-you know like a normal person would do"

You shrug your shoulders. "It's done now. Maybe it just wasn't supposed to happen."

"No, it wasn't. Not with a guy like him," Thranduil shakes his head, the long braid of silver blonde hair getting even more disheveled by the movement. "You deserve a man that doesn't cancel, doesn't let you stand outside in the cold!"

"Yes," you sigh again, staring wistfully at the TV "my Mister Darcy."

"He was literally the reason why Elizabeth ran out into the rain and cold," Thranduil responds deadpanned and you throw a pillow in his direction which he elegantly catches.

"I will not stand for this Darcy-hate! Ugh, you are such a bad friend," you whine, "I got stood up and you are making fun of one of the two people who have never let me down.. one person now that you decided to be a meanie!" You once again pout.

This time it works, a little too well because suddenly Thranduil looks at you with that one look of him, the one that breaks through every defense you could build up. He looks at you like you just told him you were dying, all the compassion he can find in his otherwise cold heart spilling out of his cerulean eyes that wander over your face.

"You know you have every right to feel sad about the date not happening," he says carefully, tilting his head slightly in a way that oozes pity, "You were looking forward to it, you even bought a dress for it. Let me cheer you up, I can cook something for you and we can watch a movie later or we can go out and drink until I have to hold your hair in the bathrooms." He smiles softly, sincere and it makes you want to jump up from the couch and hide in your room.

You two didn't do sincere; you bantered, you made jokes on behalf of the other and you most certainly did not comfort each other after a failed date. Your friendship needed lightheartedness, it thrived on sarcasm and arguments about everything and anything that came to your minds.

But the offer is tempting, especially the cooking part. Thranduil is a chef, working in his own restaurant; 'The Green Leaf' and he did a damn good job at it. Most nights, like this one, he comes home and cooks for you because apparently, Goldfish crackers were not as good for your diet as one part of the name misled you to believe and even though you made fun of Thranduils diet as well, fully vegan and with a distaste for anything that made life worth living like chocolate ice cream, he knew exactly how to whip up a meal that had you salivating.

You stare him down, weighing your options. Option one was to remain on the couch where you would shovel the ice cream down until you would inevitably get sick, watching Pride & Prejudice and mourning the never-happening and probably very boring date you would’ve had.

Option two would entail a doubtlessly very delicious meal as well as the possibility of getting drunk as fuck in a bar.

The choice comes easy.

"Okay," you agree and raise a pointed finger at him as a victorious grin spreads on his lips "But-" you wiggle the finger "you will not do this out of pity because I do not need pity from a man!"

Thranduil's grin only seems to grow, lightening up his eyes "No of course not. No pity here. I promise!" He stands up from the couch in a hurry, grabbing the bag he had left on the chair. When you don't move except to reach for the remote again, he shakes his head. "Leave Mr. Darcy for another day, you have to change!"

"Change?" you ask bewildered, looking around the apartment. "I thought you were going to cook here and not at the restaurant. Why would I need to change now?"

Thranduil scoffs, turning his back to you to walk towards the kitchen, his voice growing louder as it's accompanied by the sound of the fridge opening.

"Because I know you spent the entire day planning your outfit. You said you bought a new dress and I will not cook you an entire meal for you to sit there in your sweatpants!" he calls out and you throw your head against the couch with a groan that has Thranduil leaning out of the kitchen door

"You want the food, you follow the chef's orders," he copies the raised finger in your direction "Don't be a brat, get your butt off the couch and into your room before I have to spank you! I'll call you when you can come out."

The threat is met with you sticking your tongue out and one second thinking you could defy the order but that is until he fakes a quick step back into the room and you peel the blankets away squeaking "I'm moving! I'm moving!" while stumbling through the living room. "Jeez"

Despite knowing he would never hurt you the thought of Thranduil spanking you has you blushing a ridiculous amount and you don't turn around so he doesn't see it.

"But just so you know, I will wear the dress but only so I don't have to squeeze myself into it after dinner when we go out!" you yell over your shoulder instead and you swear you hear him chuckle before you slip into your room and close the door behind you.

The sweatpants land on your bed, followed by the sweater you had put on after getting the text message from Jack. You remain in your underwear, which you hadn't been bothered to change and stare at yourself in the mirror of your wardrobe. You are confronted with the blush the spanking comment had left on your cheeks and down your neck, and you scowl at the image.

He is your best friend and roommate.

Get a grip!

The dress you had bought for the date still hangs on the wardrobe door, a short, and black number that wasn't something you would normally wear but when you had stalked the Instagram Account for the place you would’ve eaten at today, nothing already existent in your closet had seemed fitting.

Staring at it now you question the length as well as the relatively deep front and back. After all, this was a normal dinner with your best friend, right? Yes, you would maybe leave for a club or bar after this and you had worn all kinds of clothes for a night out with Thranduil in your company but this dress had been bought for the sole reasons of looking sexy and with the hopes of getting lucky.

You shake the thoughts away and grab the hanger with the dress on.

This was a normal dinner with your best friend and this was just a dress. He had seen you in other skimpy clothes and literally any other form of dressed as well as undressed on several accidental occasions. There is no need to think this over and fall into an endless spiral of doubts.

With a nod to yourself for this mature thinking, wow, aren't you a well-functioning grown-up? – you slip the garment over your head, pinching and twisting the fabric until it sits to your satisfaction.

The hem barely covers your thighs, just doing enough so it wouldn't flash your bottom at the slightest movement but showing enough leg for you to feel powerful. The same was with the deep neckline. Bending forward was not an option, though it would draw eyes on you, hopefully.

You put the discarded jewelry back on again, a subtle choker necklace and a pair of more flashy earrings with - sadly fake- diamonds dangling and catching the light in them. The makeup is done quickly as well, some touches of a brush on your jawline, some lovely shade of lipstick on your lips, the movement of routine flows through your body with no need to really think about it.

After spraying some of your favorite perfume on your neck and behind your ears you wait.

Sitting on the edge of your bed you wait and you definitely don't think back to Thranduil's statement. No. Never.

Maybe a little bit.

Because when he calls out for you a fifteen-minute heads-up, you feel the blush coming back and the suspicion confirms itself at the last look in the mirror. You raise your head, challenging the woman in the mirror with an arch of the eyebrow before walking out the door and into what could only be described as a fever dream.

The living room is dark, the moss green curtains pulled closed except for a small gap where the afternoon sun filters through into the flat. The dining room table is clear from all the jackets, mail and stuff that accumulates throughout the day and week that are usually thrown on it and instead, there are candles.

Candles!

Candles in silver candleholders, like actual burning candles. Next to the expensive-looking candleholders is a vase filled with lavender, full and flourished purple flowers that fill the room with a soft and dizzying smell.

Suddenly you are very glad you are not in your sweats anymore, there is a heat rising in your body and setting your cheeks aflame.

Fidgeting with your hands you quietly step forward into the room to the kitchen, your eyes flittering from the table to the cleaned-up sofas and then you can see Thranduil rushing from the counter to the stove.

His back is turned to you, offering you a view of broad shoulders and arms flexing beneath the white shirt he had changed into, and even worse, the tight black pants he now wears, showing off his long legs and- you look a little higher, checking him out and blushing like it's a guilty pleasure.

Of course, the pants would show off his perfect arse as well.

You shouldn't stare.

No matter how magnificent the sight is.

And oh, it surely is magnificent.

You snap back into reality, take a lavender-filled breath, and walk into the kitchen.

It's a beautiful kitchen, not one of the reasons you had first checked out the apartment but one that had tipped the arguments for it in the end. And you are glad it did, because when you had taken roommate applications Thranduil simply waltzed into it, nodded and offered you the first year of rent with 25% on top of it if you would remove the pop-into-the-microwave-Lasagna from the freezer and never dared to buy something like that again.

His brisk and bold and sometimes very harsh attitude would've maybe frightened any other person off but you had seen the money, the prospect of a cook as a roommate and a handsome one at that, and had held out the contract with one hand while the other threw out the lasagna.

And look where that had brought you.

The kitchen is now filled with more vegetables than you have ever seen in one place that isn't a market, there is nearly always a pot with something ready for you on the stove and the fondest memories you have with Thranduil are baking Christmas cookies, throwing flour into each others faces so that your hair had been colored white like Thranduils, or you learning how to cut vegetables under his stern gaze because "No, you can not cut a carrot the same way you cut the bell pepper!"

Now here he is again, creating a memory that will never let you go.

You let your eyes wander over the stove, where one pot is cooking rice, the other has some onions caramelizing with garlic from the smell of it and Thranduil has one pan in his hand, throwing some cut tofu into the air while he brushes some oil onto white dough stretched into hand-sized bits.

He is fully in his element, maneuvering what seems like a three-course meal without any help or breaking a sweat. Setting down the pan with the tofu (hadn't that been a fun journey of convincing until you had let him cook that without any protest?) he wipes his hand on the towel thrown over his shoulder and turns to the cutting board on the kitchen island. He has even more flowers on the island, pink gerberas and white orchids stand next to his array of mint, basil and rosemary.

You have no idea what has gotten into him, there have never been this many flowers in your apartment except for the few ones some of your dates had bought you and even then they landed in the trash a couple of days later.

Sometimes Thranduil had even said he had confused them for some swept-in leaves after you asked him where the last bouquet went.

The man was truly an enigma.

"Smells good in here," you say and lean over the stove.

Thranduil clicks his tongue against his teeth. With a soft growl, he presses out a "Move," not sounding really annoyed but disturbed by you being in his way and with a giggle you move away to grant him free access to the pots.

"What is on the menu today, Chef?" you ask as you hop onto the island. No matter how much space Thranduil needs for cooking, he always leaves that one spot on the corner free for you to sit on.

"Tofu Tikka Masala you noisy girl," Thranduil doesn't turn around and for a minute you want him to see you, see the dress you have put on but then your gaze falls onto his back again and you blush.

Thank god, he didn't turn to find you checking him out, again.

"Couldn't you have waited until I told you the food is ready? Now I have you sitting around here, distracting me, even though I don't have a lot of time to begin with."

You know he is lying. He had told you more than once that you were a pleasure in the kitchen. Not at the stove but looking pretty sitting on your spot on the island and not touching a thing.

"Well, we could have ordered some pizza," you tease him, and he grunts. When he still doesn't turn around, you lean forward, a smirk on your lips. "Or we could have gone out to 'Oakenshields' and-" The rest of the sentence dies on your lips as Thranduil's whole body snaps around and you nearly squeak when he leans into your space.

Nose against nose, he stares you down, cerulean eyes holding yours without any playfulness in them. "You are on very thin ice," he says quietly and while you know he still doesn't mean it like that, you squirm under the gaze and sudden rush of adrenalin that his proximity is causing your head to swim.

"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly, sounding way too excited for your own good, and you try kicking him against his chin but he catches your leg before it hits him, and as soon as his hands grab the bare skin he lets go again, falling back like it had shocked him physically.

Cerulean eyes drop, leaving your face that suddenly goes up in flames and for a second you can see his breath hitch, his chest moving at the sharp inhale of air as he takes you in. The moment builds up, the atmosphere between you changes and charges with something and for this short, stopped moment in time you allow yourself to think:

'What if?'

Then a timer goes off, distant at first but growing louder when Thranduil's face shifts back to the usual calm facade that reflects not a thing of what is going on in his head. He sniffs, hiding behind his dark eyebrows when he lowers his head and pats you gently on your thighs.

"I'll rather perish than go to 'Oakenshields'," he rasps, the raw edge in his voice the only remnant showing that he was affected by whatever that had been between you.

Then he turns around and pushes the tray with dough into the oven.

He covers it up professionally with the joke, of course, because Thranduil Oropherion could never have been seen with feelings that go deeper than what any human would consider barely amiable.

Yes, he is your best friend and he makes an effort around you to not be the coldhearted asshole he is too, for example, Thorin Oakenshield, owner of the restaurant slash bar that the last critic had called a "serious opponent in the gourmet chef world".

Thranduil took the news so well that he had a furious meltdown of cooking for nearly 20 hours to create a menu that he would serve the critic to show him Thorin was not to put anywhere near him on a culinary level before he threatened to buy the paper the man was working for and fire him.

He only calmed down when he found out the critic had persisted to order his own wine choices and not the ones Thranduil had carefully paired with each course so he had decided that the man had no taste whatsoever and he couldn't give a shit about what he had said.

You had seen the irony in his statement and the state of him, tired, overworked, still behaving like a diva and you had just stifled a laugh and helped him clean the mess in the kitchen.

It was one of those moments that shows you he cares more than he leads on, about life, about people, about what the world thought of him but when it comes to love the man is as warm as deep diving naked in the antarctic would be.

He can be nice, living with him was pleasant and it got a whole lot more comfortable when you got to know each other better.

He makes jokes, he shows you how much he appreciates you through his food, you two watch movies together, go out, get drunk, get home and giggle when one of you trips on the doormat and after a few months he even lets you fall asleep on him when you came home crying because a date didn't go well.

You had seen him drive home in a frenzy when his mother had called him about his younger brother breaking his leg climbing trees, and he had another friend, Bard, with whom he had a friendly get-together every now and again; it was only the romance part he never talks about, never shows, never ever makes room for.

While you go out for dates- he works.

When you meet someone at the club you dance, you make out, you go home with someone else- Thranduil just ignores any woman or man who talks to him.

Thranduil's love life (if existent) is a mystery to you and that makes it even more confusing why he had looked at you the way he did just now. Why would he suddenly decide to buy flowers, to cook you an entire meal because you had been stood up and play-dress up?

Your brain is steaming with these thoughts by the time you catch up with reality again, a snap of fingers in front of your face pulls you back and you blink, slightly dazed. Thranduil stands next to you, body facing the cutting board in front of him but you can see him sneaking a peek towards you out of the corner of his eyes.

"Do you know what you want to do after dinner yet?" he asks, slicing some cilantro and parsley.

His long fingers wrap around the shiny knife elegantly, drawing your gaze in and keeping it locked onto the movement of him cutting a lemon in half and drizzling a few drops of juice into the bowl with the herbs.

You try not to stare at the few drops wetting his palm.

"We should go out," you say, voice wavering in between a question and a hoarse croak. You swallow and move your head before your eyes follow a few seconds later, blinking up at Thranduil. "There is this new rooftop bar- they opened a few days ago and are still baiting people in with the two-for-one drink offer."

Thranduil smirks, leaning his hip against the counter and wiping his hand on the towel. "Ah, yes, because that went so well the last time?" he inquires, eyebrow raised teasingly.

"I couldn't possibly know what you are talking about, Thranduil," you purse your lips, suppressing the smile just barely that threatens to spill out at the memory of the last time you went to a new bar, trying out the "new and never been done before"-drinks the small hipster bar had promised you and that'd ended up being the worst cocktails you ever had.

"You still owe me for the trousers I had to get dry-cleaned because you missy-" he half-threateningly holds out his pointy finger again, "you missed the toilet"

"You could have shoved me in the right direction!"

"Ah yes, blame the man that saved you from throwing up all over your date," Thranduil turns away again, adding coconut milk and chopped tomatoes into the pot with the garlic and onions.

"Occupational hazard of being my friend," you say, giving him the brightest and most dearest smile when he holds out a spoon he'd dipped into the curry, before leaning in and wrapping your lips around it, letting the flavors swirl over your tongue.

Then a low hum leaves your throat, a sound not only shocking you but also Thranduil by the looks of it.

By the look of him.

There is a sudden pink covering his face, right around his nose, showing off his prominent cheekbones in a way that lifts the gorgeous feature even more. It is such an unusual sight, Thranduil, blushing, that you are taken aback by it and the spoon slips out of your lips, nearly falling when Thranduil pulls it out of your mouth, clearing his throat suspiciously loud and rough that it sounds physically hurtful.

He steps back, hiding behind a "Good then?" that you can only agree to with a low "Yes" because– firstly you could never correct him on the taste of something he prepares, he knows your taste well enough to always get the spices perfectly adjusted to your preferences, and secondly your head is blissfully empty for any other answer.

The moment passes, gets drowned out by another timer going off, followed by Thranduil shifting into chef-mode as you endearingly call the shift in his demeanor into a controlled acrobat when he starts handling all those pants and pots, stirring here, tasting there, focusing on everything all at once with a concentration that nothing could penetrate.

You sit back and watch him with a soft smile, observing him as he pulls the bread out of the oven, and exchanges the tray with two dark green bowls out of the cabinets to warm them up in the leftover heat.

He moves with a grace that you surely could not copy, all of his long limbs knowing exactly when to push the rice away from the burner, ducking away when the steam of pouring the hot water into the sink would have given your face a free steaming and all that while looking extremely put together with his tight pant- braid! and white shirt he didn't even bother protecting with an apron like he always forces you to wear.

It's frustrating and attractive how much confidence he oozes in the kitchen. You wonder how the cooks managed to do their job without dropping to the floor and praising him like the godly being he seems to be.

He looks perfectly put together when he finishes plating up and ushers you back into the living room, where you are forced to sit down while he disappears into the kitchen and brings the plates and bowls, shaking off your offer to help every time you can barely start the question.

So you do what is expected of you and you wait, brushing off some hair of your dress- long silver blond strands that you twirl around your finger.

The kitchen light gets dimmed and Thranduil comes into the living room one last time, holding a bottle of wine in his hands that by the looks of it, and by that you mean expensive as fuck, must have been nicked from the restaurant.

He fills your glass, then his own and finally sits down on the other side of the table.

Before you can say something, he raises his glass, "To this evening."

You smile and raise your glass to his, "To Marcus-" Thranduil's eyebrow twitches but you only smile wider "Thank god he canceled, I much rather spend this night with good food and good company"

A deep chuckle accompanies the soft 'clink' of your glasses. You take a first sip, holding Thranduil's gaze over the rim and over the flicking fire of the candles that illuminate his face just right. The wine is smooth, and refreshing as it wets your suddenly dry throat.

You use the plate in front of you as an opportunity to look away without it feeling like you are fleeing from his gaze, even if the thought is heavy in your stomach.

"Everything looks delicious, Thranduil," you say, gesturing to the bowls with the rice and tofu tikka masala, the dough that turned out to be naan that he placed on a wooden board between the flowers and the candle.

Thranduil gives you an appreciative nod, grabbing a naan and ripping it apart. "I tried to make something that comes close to your planned meal of chocolate ice cream," there is a mocking tone in his voice, a drawl on the words chocolate ice cream that is the perfect mix between friendly teasing and his true disgust towards it.

You let out a giggle, following his example of dipping the naan into the curry. "Oh, you are so gracious for trying but we both know that ice cream is high above this. It doesn't even fall in the same food category to be able to compare. If you truly look at it, it's its own category"

"Never mind everything I have said, I've forgotten that I'm talking to the person who thinks a cup of coffee counts as an entire meal. How very stupid of me"

"Not everyone can start their morning looking like you do and have the energy to go out for a run and then cook breakfast," you shoot back, the realization of the compliment slipping out pours onto you when you see Thranduil's lips curve into a very self-satisfactory grin.

"So you are awake to notice," he leans back in his chair, popping another piece of the bread into his mouth and looking so smug that the urge to kick him is rising in you again. "You simply choose to act like you are non-responsive until you've had your coffee."

Instead of kicking him, you roll your eyes and fill your spoon with rice.

Yes, that was one way to put it.

The other would be that you are simply too scared you would say something very stupid and inappropriate when you watched him do his yoga in nothing but very tight pants while you sat on the couch and pretended to stare into empty space that just coincidently was very close to his arching form in front of the window.

"Yes, I live by the rule that coffee comes before any man."

"How rude, to consider me 'any' man," you want to say something but Thranduil is quicker to continue, shutting you up with that gorgeous smile, "Am I not the only man in your life right now who you don't leave on read after a while?"

"That is a very low bar to measure yourself with"

"Darling, those men you date offer nothing but low standards."

You nearly choke on the wine you'd reached for when Thranduil says these words, this term of endearment he casually throws into the sentence, far too confident to be a slip of tongue, far too soft to be meant as mocking.

He said it as if it had never not been there, as if it wasn't completely out of character. For a moment you consider reaching over the table to poke him, to make sure he is really here and not some (very accurate, word class if it truly was one) robotic imitation.

There is a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that only seems to twinkle brighter the longer you stare at him and you wonder if he feels like he has won the discussion or if he can hear your brain mulling over the 'darling'.

Either way, he doesn't comment on it further, not on this nor the matter of your dating.

Why he thought to do so in the first place was a mystery to you, another piece of the puzzle that was this evening. He had made comments about the men you were seeing before, subtle phrases made after glancing over to your screen and the conversations you were having, never really cruel but you wouldn't say that they were particularly nice either.

Sometimes when you came home from a night out, you never brought them back to your flat, Thranduil would simply raise an eyebrow, not saying anything and so much at the same time.

You dig back into your food and like always conversation flows naturally between you. Pushing the teasing and the sizzling of something warm in your stomach that you had felt in the kitchen away into the back of your mind you let yourself enjoy the moment, the comfort of sitting at the table, a nice dinner in front of you and the home-y feeling that was in the air.

Curry and naan fill your stomach as the wine settles in your head and laughter slips your tongue.

Empty plates get pushed aside, forgotten on the side of the table until later, making room for you to prop up one elbow and let your cheek rest in the palm of your hand as Thranduil talks about his newest ideas for his restaurant.

The candles flicker, coloring both your faces golden as the last bit of sunlight sneaks away from the tiny crack in the curtains.

After another glass of wine and some well-coordinated cleaning up, a hand-in-hand process of taking the plates into the kitchen where you load the dishwasher and Thranduil wipes down the pots and pans in the sink, Thranduil throws you out of the kitchen again.

You hop into the bathroom, spend a few minutes staring at yourself in the mirror and try to think about the outcome of this evening.

A few hours ago you had been ready to go out with someone else but right now, in the dim light that is too bright to conceal how flushed your cheeks are and too dark to be the glimmering sparkle in your eyes, there is not one thought wasted on any other guy.

It's a complicated feeling, being confronted with the crush you'd harbored on Thranduil for a while now and while it wasn't always easy to keep it at bay, it had been nowhere near as hard to keep your focus on the big fat label of 'friendship' that was the only thing ever to be between you.

Yes, you know that that label should hamper the want.. the need to kiss the ever-living daylight out of Thranduil when he stared at you across those flickering candles but who wouldn't want to do that to an attractive man showering you with attention he had given you today?

Any normal-thinking person would.

At least that is what you tell yourself, that these feelings are normal because he is attractive and not just because you are attracted to him.

Back in the living room, you fall onto the sofa, legs stretched and feet propped onto the small table in front of the couch, and fight the urge to cuddle into the pillows more than necessary. Any deeper and you would for sure fall asleep and with how your evening is going, that that would be a shame was an understatement.

"Thranduil?" you call out when another minute passes and the noises of washing up had quietened down and Thranduil still wasn't out of the kitchen again.

"One moment," his deep voice responds with a subtle grunt, "You can begin your search for a bar and please don't let it be the rooftop bar you mentioned earlier."

On another day you would have chosen a bar or even a club to go to, especially after your stomach did that traitorous summersault at the sound of his voice again.

Tonight, with your cozy little apartment smelling like fresh flowers and curry and your mind clinging onto a possessive and dangerous thought of 'What if..'´ you suddenly can't think of anything worse than going out with Thranduil.

Going out would mean that Thranduil's attention wouldn't be on you alone anymore.

"Thranduil?" you call out again, "Let's stay in and watch a movie."

"What?" He pops his head out of the kitchen and you giggle at the sight of soap bubbles on his nose as he wipes his hand over his surprised face. He rolls his eyes, lifting one arm, - oh god his sleeves are rolled up, exposing far too much skin and veiny arms for you to think clear- and wipes the soap away. "I thought you wanted to go out."

"No," you draw the word out, still hung up on the smooth-looking skin, "We talked about going out or watching a movie," shuffling your shoulders into the pillows you smile at him "and I think we should watch a movie. It has been a while since we did that."

Thranduils face softens and he cocks his head, "It has," he agrees, the tenderness in his eyes reaching his voice.

With Thranduil running his restaurant and your work demanding more of you there hadn't been a lot of time you had sat down and watched something together recently.

You still had your mornings full of nursing coffee and yoga and the evenings where you weren't on a date or Thranduil away on business you had gone out together.

The summer with all its warm and sunny days and bars filled with cool drinks and long evenings fading into soft blue nights had been fun- that didn't mean you didn't miss cuddling into a blanket on the couch and watching a movie with Thranduil where you spend the entire time making small comments only to annoy him.

"How about you sort out what movie you want to see and I'll fetch us a snack?" he proposes and you let out a hum. Thranduil starts to turn away, then halters, "And if you could find anything other than 'Pride and Prejudice' I would be very grateful."

You did, in fact, not search further for the movie that you had started earlier.

Something that Thranduil comments with a loud "God, please do not do this to me," when he reenters the living room.

Stubbornly, you shake your head, your finger dancing over the buttons on the remote control. "You won't know if you like it or not if you never stay to watch it through! What if this is your movie? You say you don't have a favorite movie, Thranduil- this could be it!" Your arms flare in the air, pointing the remote to the screen while you try your best to sound as motivational as you can under the skeptical raise of his eyebrow - though the corner of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement however hard he wants to look self-assured in his completely (unreasonable) hate for the movie you consider one of the best of all time.

It's only when he saunters closer that you see what he holds in his hands and it momentarily lets you forget the never-ending argument.

"Ice cream!"

He laughs deep and rough, always a bit darker and richer when he has drunk wine, his voice and tone taking on the velvety edge that clouds your mind just as much as the alcohol.

"That was much more enthusiastic than the reaction to the soufflé I made you a while back. Should I take offense? Is this your revenge for my dislike of this Darcy that you so obsess about?"

Sticking out your tongue you grab one of the two buckets he holds out to you, as Thranduil takes his place on the couch; always on the longer side where he could stretch out his long legs. "Do not disrespect the man of my dreams or I will buy the mac-just-add-milk-cheese," you open the lid of the carton box, reaching over to the table to place it there.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Mhm, I wonder if they still have the ones that only need water?"

"Please just press play you vicious woman," Thranduil pokes his finger into your side, admitting defeat with a desperate sigh and opens his own box of ice cream. When he sees you staring at it, he rolls his eyes. "What now? Can't a man enjoy something sweet once in a while?"

"A man yes," you snort "But you-" you poke him as well, "you're always on me when I buy ice cream and now you eat.. what is that..?"

Leaning into his space you ignore how Thranduil swats at you gently like he wants to get rid of a fly "It's chocolate, no way! My, my, should I call your health insurance and warn them that we will need a checkup? Maybe a brain-"

"Goodness gracious!" Thranduil groans, a sound that reverberates through you as you are still leaning into him, one hand propped next to his thigh, "Will you shut up or do I have to do that for you?"

That does shut you up instantly.

Not a sound leaves your mouth - left wide open as if he had simply pressed paused on your whole body - and you slowly turn your head away from him and back to the screen.

Now, while he did shock you enough with his words to let the teasing about the ice cream slide back down your very much dry throat, you can't help it to at least attempt to have the last word.

To calm your racing heart if not to for the sudden lack of thoughts, "Only if you swear to watch the whole movie without talking shit about Mister Darcy"

"Half of it and a little bit of shit-talking?"

"All of it and none of that!"

"Just let me make my comments and I will buy you your ice cream next time."

You squint your eyes, challenging him to stay with the offer and consider if it's worth it.

You could easily buy your own snacks, you did it every day you went grocery shopping anyway but there was a satisfying pleasure in knowing that the great Thranduil, hater of all sweets, would not only pick out ice cream for you, but pay for it as well.

Maybe he would even throw in something else as well, if you agreed to him and let him make his jokes.

In the end, you were simply grateful that he was here, sitting on the couch to watch a movie he knows means a lot to you, despite his dislike for it, and maybe that was enough..

"Deal!"

Finally, you eagerly press play, allowing the soft piano music to fill the room a second time this day.

While you can't help but smile, muttering the words into the spoons full of ice cream, Thranduil is less mean than you thought he would be. In the beginning, you could see him rolling his eyes whenever Mr. Darcy came on screen - something you commented with a sigh and a giggle - but like you always predicted, he soon relaxed into the cushions.

His face softens, just like his comments, mouth corners turning up as he watches the discussion between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth in the reading room.

In one particularly dramatic scene, you turn to Thranduil with wide eyes. "See? See? Mister Darcy is just misunderstood. He's so in love with Elizabeth, but he doesn't know how to express it properly."

Thranduil rolls his eyes playfully. "Oh, please. He just needs to learn how to be less insufferable."

You lean closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, you could learn a thing or two from Darcy, Thranduil."

He scoffs. "Me? Like what?"

Despite the tone he lifts one arm so that you can really lean into his side and you follow the invitation. Drawing your legs up, ignoring that the hem of your dress rides up your thigh, you scoot into Thranduil's space and rest your back against the length of his chest. His arm remains on the headrest of the couch.

You grin. "How to sweep a girl off her feet. Be a little less aloof and a little more... passionate–" your voice wanders into a wistful sigh, words getting lost as you watch with bated breath as Mister Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage.

There is a deep rumble behind you, a hot exhale of breath hitting the back of your head and while it seems like Thranduil wants to say something, he remains silent.

When you slightly turn your head, you see him watching the screen with a look in his eyes that you can't pin point.

"Why exactly does he flex his hand like that?" Thranduil quizzes with what sounds like genuine interest and you nearly bounce off the couch in excitement.

"Okay so there are multiple ways that this could be interpreted, some think it represents his armor cracking because he has been so buttoned-up, closed-off all the time and now his muscles betray the character he is putting on," you start, the words tumbling out of your mouth fast and rushed now that Thranduil shows his interest "It's like he is unraveling slowly but surely."

"It's also the first time they touch," you add.

Thranduil cocks his head, "It is?"

The grin on your face grows wider and you nod enthusiastically. "Yes! It's the first time they touch and it's pure skin to skin contact which was totally scandalous in their time, hence the gloves and long sleeves. Imagine going on through your life with these walls built around you as a way to protect your heart and then there is this infuriating woman."

"I can't imagine," Thranduil throws in yet it's so quietly that you nearly miss it.

Nearly.

Your tongue trips over a few words as you continue speaking, caught on what Thranduil had said under his breath as if it had been meant for only him, "-well and she.. she is rebellious. She does not follow the etiquette of wearing gloves, she speaks her mind freely and she contradicts everything that you have been taught," you count on your fingers "And she must have been the first woman in a long time that has touched him like that, even if it's as simple as using his help getting into the carriage"

"Mhm," Thranduil raises the arm that isn't behind you and taps his lips. "And you find that moment important for their building romance?"

"Without a doubt in my mind."

"Alright."

And with that, the topic is dropped and you both return to watch the movie.

That is until Thranduil's arm drops lower.

At first, you think it could have been unintentional, physics and gravity and all that stuff being the reason that his arm fell or slipped from the headrest on your shoulders.

It happens, maybe it had been tiresome to leave it up there, stretched away at such an angle. That is what you tell yourself in the few seconds where his arm simply.. stays still.. but then his arm bends at the elbow and the movement is so slow, so careful that your brain has enough time to forget the movie and focus on how delicately wary his hand comes into contact with the naked skin of your arm.

At first, it's just his fingertips.

Trembling ever so slightly they ghost over your biceps, giving the impression that he is still unsure on how to proceed and you wait, trying your hardest not to flex your arm and maybe scare him away and it's the hardest thing - this kind of touch was rare.

The waiting and effort are worth every second of agonizing stillness because following the tips is the hot palm of his hand, curving around your upper arm and holding you.

Your senses are aflame like the candles, lavender clouding your mind, cold ice cream melting on your tongue as the rough skin of his fingertips trails over your arm in the smallest circles.

Reflecting on the previous conversation there is one sentiment burning its way through your body, bringing with it all the moments of today, his hands on your leg in the kitchen, the storm of emotions crackling through his eyes like thunder, splitting his facade like lightening, the way he had reacted on spoonfeeding you the curry, the tension.

This has to mean something.

This has to be something.

You make up your mind to confront him about it even before he opens his mouth for the next commentary again.

"Darcy sure has a fantastic way to show his love," his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Nothing screams more 'I love you' than separating the sister of the woman you love from your best friend because you think the family is far too poor and lacks social etiquette," he scoffs, seemingly being his normal self and you would have believed him if his eyes didn't dart towards you, hinting at a touch of nervousness in those cerulean seas which lack the usual confidence.

"Maybe he is unsure how to tell her that he loves her," you say, holding his gaze.

"Well, there are other ways than this," Thranduil says, pointing toward the screen where Darcy is now standing painfully awkward in Charlotte's home that Elizabeth visits.

While you know that he is trying to follow Elizabeths advice of simple conversation, Thranduil doesnt seem to make that connection.

"Why aren't you out and about flirting with women?" It is a slip of the tongue, led on by the teasing you are so used to yet it comes out far too soft, far too wobbly. Quickly you add to the question with what is half cough, half laugh: "Huh, I mean if you are so sure that Darcy is doing something wrong, you should be picking up women, right?"

Thranduil raises an eyebrow in confusion. He opens his mouth, slightly tilting his head. "What? Why should I do that?"

Now you wonder if he was more stupid than you thought or if you heavily missed him having a girlfriend. Or not a girlfriend, or a partner. Were you that ignorant? Did you miss anything he told you about his sexuality?

"I–" you stutter "I didn't want to pry. I´m sorry. I.. I'm just wondering why you never go out on dates"

"Oh," there is a solemn look on his face "Ah, I had hoped this wouldn't come up for a while longer," He pauses, glancing at the TV and a feeble smile has the corner of his mouth twitching.

You don't have to follow his gaze to know that Mister Darcy has just followed Elizabeth into the rain; the only scene Thranduil has ever watched with you.

Maybe you had been ignorant before but the resigned tone in his voice is loud and clear. "We don't have to talk about it!" you rush in, "Really. No need to converse. Let's just watch the movie alright?" Without thinking about it, your hand moves to his chest, a reflex to gently pat him that dies when you feel the hard thumping of his heart through his shirt.

"I could never date someone, let alone think about a woman the way I think about you."

There it was again, the casualness that had tainted the 'Darling' from earlier. You would have laughed, hell, it is already bubbling up your throat when the heaviness of his confession crashes down on you and all that leaves you is a choked sound and a sudden lack of air has you gasping.

The combination of both hurts but not enough to cover the flutter in your stomach.

"What?" you ask not because you didn't understand him, you had heard every word, every syllable clear and distinct, but because you can't believe that you had heard it.

Your hand still rests atop his chest, feeling the heartbeat- hard and fast.

The same way he suddenly pressed his mouth on yours.

It happens quickly, leaving no time for you to react how you want to react and the only thing you can do is gasp.

The kiss ends as swiftly as it has started at the sound yet Thranduil doesnt withdraw completely. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath ghosting over your dry lips. There was a question in it, the same that is in his eyes when you gather the courage to look up.

Thranduil wasn't this hesitant, he was efficient, confident and so fucking sure of himself that his lack of those qualities right now spoke just as much as the kiss itself.

In the background, you hear rain but all you feel is your mind clearing up like the sky after the downpour.

Without further hesitation, you nod and Thranduil lunges forward again, this time with enough force that you lose your balance - or maybe it was the feel of his lips on yours that prevented you from catching yourself as you fall backward and crash into the pillows.

As far as first kisses go, most of the ones you had with guys were significantly worse. They were usually awkward, sometimes even uncomfortable because you weren't yet attuned to each other, but you weren't kissing a strange guy in a bar here.

You were kissing Thranduil.

You had been friends for years, you had seen each other in the most embarrassing situations, he had probably been confronted with your unclothed body more often than others, and if there was one thing he had noticed, it was what disappointed you about your dates.

And while he kissed you silly and stupid you were happy about exactly this perceptiveness.

His hair falls around you like a curtain, his chest presses against yours and you get so used to the weight of his body on yours like it has never been different.

And you hope it will never be any different.

"Shit," Thranduil groans against your lips, and you open your eyes, smiling up at him in a daze.

"What?"

"Now-" he kisses you again "Now that we got this out of the way.." Another kiss, a soft bite on your lips and you are so fucking glad to know that no woman has experienced this from him in a while. You are getting addicted to his kisses fast "..can you please stop dating these assholes and let me take you out for a real dinner?"

You nod hastily and lift your head to catch his mouth again. You only let him go for another second, when the perfect place pops into your mind - the last thought for the rest of the evening probably.

"Let's go to 'Oakenshields'"

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lotr x reader

382 notes · View notes

toji-girl · 3 months

Text

k. ryuguji

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + explicit smut + all porn no plot + fingering + finger sucking + begging + pet names + nipple sucking + I want him carnally dlkfkgjet + repost from an ask on my old blog

Every day at the same time you never failed to show up to Draken's shop bearing a bag filled with food and something for your boyfriend to drink, it was a sight to be seen because he was the one used to taking care of others.

He loved to see you walk over to him with a soft smile. "Break time." You announced and watched as he sat his tools down thankful for the break and the chance to get to see you all dolled up for him.

"What did I do to deserve someone so sweet like you?" Draken asked pulling off his oily coveralls before washing his hands as you followed him to the break room like a puppy with a shrug of your shoulders.

You opted to lean against the table as he settled on the couch across from you. "Is Inupi around?" You questioned and watched as he dug into the food with a soft groan at the taste, another thing he loves.

Draken shook his head and popped the top of his drink to take a swig of it. "He had to go somewhere for something but should be back soon, why? There another reason why my princess came?" He asked.

Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you shrugged again and sauntered over to him sinking into his lap to take the box from his hands and feed him. "Maybe, this morning you left me all alone in bed needy for you after rubbing on me like that." You pouted.

"Oh, you poor thing. I was a tease, wasn't I?" He asked with a grin as he let his large hands wander over your clothes watching the way you shuddered under this touch, your lips pulled into a pout.

You ground your hips down against him when one hand slipped under your shirt. "So needy for me aren't you? It's so cute, always needing your sweet pussy stuffed with something." He cooed.

Draken was slow and meticulous as he picked you apart and he loved how you fell for his plan like a victim caught up in a spider's web. It was easy to get you riled up and get you where he needed you to be.

He watched you tilt your head back and curl your fingers into his shirt as you sat so prettily in his lap. His free hand tucked the bottom hem of your skirt into the waistband to see your bare pussy on display.

You heard him click his tongue as he grazed two fingertips over your cunt gathering the slick before he rubbed it along your lips. "No panties? So naughty." He teased and barely dipped his finger inside.

"Stay still for me princess, can you do that?" Draken asked, his eyes focused on your face as you nodded and stopped all movement even though you wanted to roll your hips, your clit throbbed under his thumb.

He loved to hear you whine his name, glossy lips parted to chant over and over about how you want to cum and how mean he is. “Keep struggling like that and I’m not going to give you what you want.” He commanded in a low tone when you bucked your hips into his touch.

Your eyes popped open wide like saucers at his command. "But - " He lifted a finger to your mouth pressing it against your sticky lips to stop the protest from spilling. "But nothing, good girls get what they want." He told you with a smirk.

You were about to roll your eyes when he thrust his middle and index finger inside your wet aching cunt, the stretch was pleasurable and given how long they were they always hit the right spot. "What was that?" He asked tugging your tank top down to bare your tits to him.

Draken wrapped his lips around your nipple knowing how bad you wanted to fuck his fingers but instead, you sat still and let him finger fuck you while taking his sweet time laving your nipples with kitten kisses and licks before suckling them into his warm mouth.

He watched you fall apart in his lap while listening to the wet squelching of your pussy taking his fingers so wonderfully. Everything about him was big and he loved how you took him well.

Your pussy fluttered around his fingers when his thumb brushed along your clit, his mouth ascending to your collarbones and shoulders when you leaned more into him. "So close! Draken!"

It never really took him long to get you squirting in his lap between his soft kisses and the way he hooked his fingers up to press against your g-spot you were utterly boneless after he was done with you.

"See. What did I tell you? Good girls get what they want." He told you with another grin as you nuzzled into his neck soaking up the time with him before he had to return back to work.

#Ken Ryuguji smut #ken smut #Ken Ryuguji x reader smut #draken smut #draken x reader smut #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #tr x reader smut #ken x reader smut

144 notes · View notes

coveredinsweetpea · 2 years

Text

body shots [eddie munson x reader]

A/n: I wrote a very similar fic to this one about another character a while ago but I'm a sucker for this trope so I had to write one for Eddie too!! (kinda insecure!eddie for this one)

Summary: you're the popular girl. what happens when at a party you decide to finally approach Eddie, after you've liked him for years? (spoiler alert: jason is at this party) 3.1k

Warnings: yeah, none really. bullying maybe, and jason (he deserved his own warning), does licking Eddie's chest tattoo need a warning? and also alcohol consumption, but that's it really :)

also im reposting it rn bc it refuses to show up in the tags????? im gonna scream ugH

"Come on, Eddie," you smiled. As much as you'd have liked to just grab his hand and drag him to the middle of the room with you to dance, you knew better than that. So you kept your distance, looking at him longingly and hoping that this wasn't actually the colossal mistake that it was shaping up to be. "Dance with me"

"I-" he sighed and leaned his head to the side. "I can't- I'm not one of you guys"

"What does that mean?" you pouted.

You could tell this was consuming him, and it made you feel annoying, but you got so far. It took all your confidence to approach him and now you weren't going to back away, not without a blunt rejection to help you move on.

"I saw you dancing earlier with your friends, I'm not like that. I can't just like... do that"

"The only difference between you and my friends, Eddie, is that they wanted to dance with me. Why do you keep saying that you can't? You can say that you don't want to, and that's ok, you know?"

"I-" he started to speak but then shut his mouth and looked away.

He was fiddling with the Megadeth patch on his vest - it had been sloppily sown into the material and judging by how Eddie tugged at it, by the end of the night, it would definitely come off entirely.

You waited for him to answer. You saw him nervous, his eyes scanning the room and his lips dry as he chewed them. You didn't want to push him but god you didn't want to leave without him either.

"I don't know, Y/n, I don't even know what I'm doing at this party. I wasn't even invited, I came with a friend and he disappeared a while ago. No one really wants me here"

"I do" you beamed and stepped into his line of sight. "I want you here"

"You're just like-" Eddie laughed as he looked away, "The nicest person ever so that doesn't count"

"I am a nice person, yeah, thanks for noticing" you giggled, "But I'm not nice enough to take time out of my day to walk around and make sure everyone feels welcome, you know?"

Eddie frowned a bit and his smile faltered. "Then why are you here?"

"Because I like you? And I thought this was going to be much easier, but I feel like I already annoyed you"

Too many questions came into his mind at once. What exactly did you mean, you liked him? No, that couldn't be it. His cheeks were on fire and it was that goddamn thing his heart did whenever he got nervous. It was a rare occurrence so he didn't really know what to do. Still fidgeting with the patch, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other - trying to figure out what to say. He couldn't really say he liked you too, could he? He did, he adored you, and you sounded so honest when you said it, but his brain refused to let him believe it. Eddie, don't be a dumbass, he told himself. But even so, he didn't want to let you leave thinking he dislikes you.

"You're not annoying," he eventually said. "But you don't mean that, Y/n, you don't really like me"

"Why do you say that?" you frowned.

"I mean, you don't know me, do you? We talked like 3 times in the 5 years we've known each other, what's there to like?"

Oh, the hypocrisy, he thought to himself. What an idiot you are, Eddie.

Now it was your turn to get nervous. The couple of beers you had earlier only helped so much. "I don't know, Eddie, if you want me to list the things I like about you, you best believe I'm gonna start with the fact that you can climb on top of the tables in the cafeteria and make a scene in front of the whole school, but now that it's just me, you can barely get a word out"

"Shit-"

"Eddie, I think you like me too. I think that if you didn't, you'd have told me to fuck off before I even got a word out"

"Y/n..."

"You can still do that. So, you know what? That's it. You either tell me to leave you alone, or you come dance with me. Right now. Whatever you want, I'll respect your decision"

Again, there were so many things he wanted to say. He felt like an idiot, he came off as an idiot, but still, there you were, all a smile, a hopeful smile, waiting for him to get his shit together.

"Does it really have to be dancing?"

"No!" you beamed and grabbed his hand into both of yours, "We can do whatever you want! We can go taunt the football team and drink them under the table. Or we can bully the DJ, get him to play whatever we want"

Eddie shook his head amused, "Yeah, sure. Both sound good to me"

"Ok, good, but first, let's get a drink, you know, while we plan"

"Of course, yeah"

As you guided Eddie through the sea of dancing people, you got too lost in your thoughts, too happy about how the evening was turning out, too eager to sit down with him and just talk; too distracted to notice the commotion. You didn't notice Jason to the side, or the people he shoved away in order to get to you. You only noticed him when he spawned himself in front of you, making you nearly bump into his chest.

But you saw him in time and abruptly stopped, bumping back into Eddie instead. This, you didn't mind.

"Hey there, beautiful" Jason grinned, licking his lips as he looked down at you. "Thought you left"

"Yeah, I didn't" you said and tried to walk past him. You managed to get a step in before he stopped you, and it was enough for him to see you were holding Eddie's hand.

"Oh! Oh, what's this? Is this who you're hanging out with now?" Jason laughed and pointed at Eddie who looked like if he could teleport himself out of there, he would.

You squeezed his hand harder into yours and moved to stand closer to him.

"Yes, and I don't see how it concerns you"

"Don't be like that, I thought we had history"

You didn't have to look at Eddie to know what face he made.

"Jason, if you think that you showing up at my house to pick up Chrissy and hitting on me while she gathered her stuff means we have history, then I'm sorry, but you need professional help"

"Ouch," he frowned. He wasn't really offended, your words just made him want to push you further. "You don't have to be like this, gorgeous" he said and went to grab a strand of your hair. But he didn't get to. Eddie's hand flew up just in time to grab his wrist and stop him from touching you.

"Watch it, man," Eddie said calmly.

"Oh, the freak speaks!" Jason chuckled, forcing his hand out of Eddie's hold. "Careful, Y/n, he might put a curse on you"

"Jesus, Jason" you rolled your eyes. "Can you stop wasting my time? Please? If you have something you wanna say, just say it"

He didn't like this. Bullying wasn't so fun when you held your ground. Out of options, Jason turned to Eddie. The weak link, he thought.

"I just have one question," he grinned, walking impossibly close. "Was she your first kiss?"

"Oh my god" you scoffed, and forced yourself in-between them. Had Eddie not been this quick to react, your fist would've connected with Jason's nose, most likely knocking him out.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop, it's ok!" Eddie said as he pulled you away.

"No, it's not!"

"Why do you care what he thinks?"

"I don't give a shit what he thinks, but I won't let him talk to you like that, Eddie!"

He softened up. "Y/n, it's alright, I pro-"

"Hey, Munson!" Jason interrupted him, "What's it like being the pussy of this relationship? It's so very clear she's the one wearing the pants, you wimp"

"Listen, man" Eddie sighed, "I have no idea what you're trying to achieve, it's obviously not working. Stop bothering people, no one cares what you have to say. But if you really are so dead set on embarrassing yourself, next time I'm not gonna stop Y/n from hitting you, alright?"

"Oh, so you need a little girl to fight your battles for you?"

"I don't know, man" Eddie shrugged, "How many girls would fight your battles for you?"

You didn't even get a chance to cheer before Jason erupted.

"That's it, you freak!" he screamed and lunged at Eddie.

Thankfully, and much to your surprise, Eddie dodged the hit and was ready to at least try to parry the second blow when one of Jason's friends got in-between them.

"God, Eddie, where did that come from?" you giggled. You were both too absorbed with one another to pay attention to the crowd that had formed around you.

"I mean, you said it yourself" Eddie grinned, "I'm unhinged, it's just you I can barely talk to"

"Hey, loser!" Jason yelled again, and this time, interrupted yet again, both you and Eddie turned around rolling your eyes.

"I figure-" Jason continued. "Why get myself in trouble by kicking your ass when I can just watch you embarrass yourself?"

"Yeah" Jason's friend butted in. "Why don't you take your sweet little girlfriend and go put on a show for us?"

Eddie blinked in confusion and you sighed. "What are you talking about?"

"How about you two go and do some body shots, hm? I think everyone wants to see this, isn't that right?"

The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting for you and Eddie.

"You have serious problems, Jason" you shook your head in disbelief.

He, smug as ever, walked up to you and lowered his tone so that only you and Eddie could hear. "I wanna see Munson throw up when he has to take his shirt off"

"Jesus, there's no chance we-"

"Why not?" Eddie cut you off. "I don't mind"

"Eddie, we don't have to-"

"What?" he grinned. "You don't wanna do body shots with me?"

A proud and devious smile crept up on your lips, "After you, then"

"Ok then"

Eddie grabbed your hand and led you to the bar. The crowd parted so that you could pass while you could barely manage to hide the enthusiasm that was threatening to burst out of you.

Once at the bar, Eddie nonchalantly grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. "Who goes first?"

"I don't know" you laughed, still in shock with the sudden turn of events.

"Ok, then" Eddie smiled after pouring the drinks. He set the bottle aside and took off his leather jacket and vest. He was calm and confident, not showing any signs of the shyness that controlled him earlier. With his eyes trained on yours, he fisted the back of his collar and elegantly pulled the Hellfire Club shirt over his head.

They shouldn't have surprised you, the tattoos scattered across his chest, but they did. They made your mouth water. You wanted to touch them, to touch him, but you had to snap out of it. Not now, you told yourself.

After fixing his hair, Eddie climbed on top of the bar and sat down. "Where do you want it?" he asked, waving the salt around.

"I can't decide" you laughed and snatched it from his hand. "Lay down"

He did so. He grabbed a slice of lemon and leaned back on the bar, his whole body on full display for you and everyone else in the room.

Girls that would have never otherwise looked in his direction were now gawking and giggling to one another, while Jason sat to the side and cursed everyone left and right.

"Whenever you're ready" Eddie announced.

"Can I.. can I do something?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart"

You took a deep breath, and pushed yourself up on the bar too, threw one leg over his body and straddled his hips. Your hands found his waist and his' found your thighs as you sat and wondered where to put the salt.

Not wanting to seem unsure of yourself, you took a deep breath and poured it over the tattoo on the left side of his chest. You were fairly satisfied with your decision, but still felt like you were missing out. So, in the spur of the moment, you dropped some onto his abdomen as well, and then looked up at him. "The lemon"

Eddie nodded and placed it between his teeth.

As you lowered yourself and started licking your way up his abdomen, you looked up - he was looking at the ceiling, but his chest was violently rising and falling. It was good to see him flustered as well.

As your tongue made its way across his chest, over the inked skin above his nipple, you felt his whole body tense under your weight.

With the salt on your tongue, salt that somehow managed to taste sweet now that it came off of his skin, you pushed yourself up and downed the shot. The alcohol burned its way down your throat and it wasn't lemon that you wanted to use to drown the bitterness. But those were the rules, so with your heart beating out of your chest, you closed the distance between your lips and gently grabbed the lemon slice with your teeth.

Your eyes fluttered close, but not before catching a glimpse of the smile that curled his lips. Eddie didn't easily let go of the lemon, and you didn't really want to fight him for it either. Your lips were touching and your bodies were pressed together, you wanted this more than anything. But with all the people watching, you gathered yourself and bit down on the lemon, snatching it from between his teeth.

Your friends cheered you on and you burst into laughter as Eddie started to sit up. He wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you off the bar, settling you on your feet.

"I want another one" you said as you threw the lemon peel away.

"No one's stopping us, sweetheart, but now it's your turn"

"Fair enough"

Eddie seemed somehow uncomfortable when you started taking your shirt off, and the fact that he tried to look anywhere else other than your breasts burned a whole into your chest. It also had you rubbing your thighs together; hot, crazy and polite? You were in deep.

"Ok" you shook your head after throwing your shirt onto the floor and climbing on the bar.

You were about to lay down just like he did, but Eddie stopped you with a firm grip on your waist. He kept you at the edge of the bar, and placed himself between your legs.

Your feet met behind his back and you leaned back with the salt still in your hand.

If he had been sweet enough to let you choose where you wanted the salt to go on his body, you decided it was time for a change. Without asking for his opinion, you poured it all over your cleavage, feeling your core tighten when most of the salt rolled between your breasts.

Without leaving his spot between your legs, Eddie leaned to the side and picked up a slice of lemon. With his free hand, he grabbed your chin, "Open up"

You obeyed without a single ounce of doubt.

He placed the lemon between your teeth and then used his thumb to help you close your mouth around it.

You kept your head up as he leaned down and started licking the salt on your chest. He was shy at first, but it took him only about a second to grab your waist to hold you in place as he sank his tongue between your breasts. He licked your skin, whether there was any salt there or not, he didn't care, he licked and he kissed and then made his way up your chest.

When you were face to face and it was time for him to take the shot, you watched him closely as he did so, and right before he went in to grab the lemon, you leaned your head back exposing your neck.

Unable, and unwilling to restrain himself, Eddie let his lips trail up your jugular, along your jaw, and then cupped your cheeks with both his hands as he snatched the lemon from your teeth.

He barely sucked any of the juice out before taking it out of his mouth and throwing it away. He was too eager to wrap his arms around you again and pick you up.

The crowd was alive. Everyone was screaming and chanting his name. You didn't surprise anyone, he did. "Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!"

"You're not one of us, huh?"

"Shut up" he laughed and handed you your shirt.

You both got dressed as everyone kept watching, and after taking your eyes off of Eddie for just a second, when you saw him again, 3 girls had surrounded him.

Not in the mood of any more games, you walked over to them.

"... maybe like give us your phone number?" one of them giggled, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.

"I'm sorry, ladies, the train has left the station. This bad boy's taken"

"Yeah sure, but you know, if things don't work out...". Her wink was what sent you.

"Nah, I've been waiting for this since 9th gr- ah, there she is!"

Much to the girl's disgust, Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulders and waved at them as they left, rolling their eyes.

As soon as they were at a safe distance, he pulled away from you and fanned his face and neck.

"Did they make you nervous?"

"No" he shook his head. "You did"

"When can I expect you to use that charm of yours on me too, then?" you giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist.

You could tell it was getting difficult for him to breathe so you decided to pull away but he stopped you. "I'm trying," he said. "Words just don't come to me when you look at me like that"

"Like what?"

"Like this" he shook his head. "I don't know... I'm sorry, I'm-"

"Stop it, don't be sorry, I take it as a compliment"

"How about we go get some alcohol in me so maybe I can start complimenting you using actual words?"

"Sure" you laughed. "Let's go"

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader

3K notes · View notes

wzrd-wheezes · 8 months

Text

Moony's Song - Songwriter!Remus x Reader

AN - I have never spent so long writing a fic as I have this one. It's by far one of my favourite things that I have ever created and I hope that you guys like it as much as I do. This is a repost as I originally posted this fic a few weeks ago but it wasn't showing up in any of the tags so hopefully this time it works haha.

A really big thank you to @thepunisherfrankcastle for this incredible idea - i truly loved writing it.

Songwriter!Remus x Reader - Fluff

6.2k words.

Remus was slouched over on the sofa in the grotty basement of the house that he shared with his best friends. His elbows were resting on his knees as he peered down at the pad of paper that was clutched between his fingers. The page was covered in Sirius’s messy scrawl and the corner of Remus’s mouths tugged upwards as he read.

“’As black as a raven’s wing?’” Remus read, trying to supress a laugh, “I think you should maybe leave the songwriting to me, Pads.” Sirius rolled his eyes in response, walking over to Remus and snatching the paper from his hands.

“Let’s see what you’ve written, then.” He jokingly demanded, cocking a brow at him.

Remus reached down into the rucksack that lay by his feet. He fished around inside and pulled out a leatherbound notebook. The cover was battered, the corners were bent and he thumbed through it trying to find the most recent page. He handed it to Sirius and stared down at his hands as the other boy read the lyrics he’d written. His fingers were speckled with ink, the result of a whirlwind of thoughts that had taken over his brain.

“I don’t know why you don’t just join the band.” Sirius sighed, flopping down next to him on the sofa. He had handed the notebook to James who was now reading over it, idly twizzling a drumstick between his fingers as he did so.

“Because,” he started “I’m not musical like you two are.”

“Oh, come on, Moony. We both know you play the guitar better than Sirius.” James laughed.

“Yeah, well, that’s not hard, is it?” Remus grinned cheekily. Sirius swatted him on the back of the head.

“I’m being serious.” Sirius, who had never been serious a day in his life, said. Remus just rolled his eyes at him.

“It’s just not for me. Y’know, getting on stage in front of loads of people, being in the spotlight.” Remus grimaced. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and put one in his mouth.

“S’ a great way to meet girls though.” Sirius winked at him, reaching into his own pocket to take out a lighter and lighting the Remus’s cigarette for him.

“And the parties are pretty good.” James added.

“I don’t care about girls and the parties. I just like writing the music,” he shrugged, leaning back on the sofa, his head resting against the back of it as he stared up at the ceiling.

James, who was sat at his drumkit opposite them, shot a mischievous look at Sirius, who grinned back at him.

“The girls and the parties are the best part about being in a band!” Sirius pressed, taking the cigarette from between Remus’s lips and putting it between his own.

“You’re vile, you know that, right?” Remus smacked him on the back of the head, just like Sirius did to him earlier. Sirius barked out a laugh, unbothered.

“C’mon, mate, just one party.” James suggested, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. It’ll do you good to get out of your comfort zone.”

Y/N laid across the sofa in the flat that she shared with her best friend. She had her legs curled up and her body leaning against the plush arm as her eyes fluttered shut. Her headphones sat snugly over her ears, the music she was playing humming softly. She would often sit like this, just absorbing the music, really appreciating every lyric as it washed over her.

She was distracted from her listening when her best friend burst through the door. Lily was stood in front of her, ginger hair cascading across her shoulders and her eyes shining wildly.

“Woah. Have you just won the lottery or something?” Y/N asked, removing her headphones and resting them around her neck, “What’s got you all excited?”

“It’s pretty much just as good as.” she grinned, taking a seat next to her on the sofa. She tucked her knees up and rested her chin on them as she spoke, “I think I’ve just got us invited to the party of the century.”

“What are you talking about, Lils?”

“So, you know that guy I work with that has a friend that’s in a band?” Lily explained, “Well, they’re having a big party tomorrow night and he asked if me and you wanted to come.”

“No way!” Y/N said, “That’s so cool!”

“Babe. There’s more...” Lily paused for dramatic effect, “the band is The Marauders.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened, she sat up a bit straighter. The Marauders were a band that the two had listened to for a while now, after stumbling across one of their singles as they browsed a record shop one day.

“You’re joking. You have a friend who knows the Marauders and you’ve only just found out?”

Lily nodded quickly, her lips pulled into a huge smile.

“So, we’re going then, yeah?”

Lily glanced down at the piece of paper that her coworker had scribbled the address of the party on as she looked out the window of the taxi. The night was cool and the girls wrapped their jackets a bit tighter around themselves as they got out of the car. The house that they had arrived at was already bustling with people, the party well underway as Lily had insisted that they turned up fashionably late. People were spilling out onto the street and sprawling across the front lawn that was littered with empty cans and bottles.

As the pair wandered inside, music pumped from large speakers and the air was tinged with cigarette smoke. Lily grabbed on to the hand of her best friend and guided her through the house into the kitchen.

“There must be something to drink in here,” she muttered as her eyes roamed over the room.

“Lil, we can’t just come to a party and drink other people's beer!” Y/N laughed. Lily just giggled and rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the fridge. She swung the door open and rummaged around for a moment before spinning back around holding two beers victoriously in her hands.

“Just help yourself to those, it’s fine!” a voice spoke out from behind them.

Both girls' heads snapped round, caught red handed, beer bottles halfway to their lips. The voice belonged to a man who was stood with arms folded across his chest and a cigarette dangling from his lips. His dark hair just brushed his shoulders, falling down in messy waves and his glinted as he put to fingers up to his lips to remove his cigarette.

“You’re-” Y/N stood there in shock as she registered who the man was.

“Yep.” he said, cutting her off “And those are my beers you’re drinking.”

“Oh, come on-” Lily tried to argue with him but she was cut off when another man entered the room and interjected.

“Stop being a dick, Sirius.” the man walked in and nudged Sirius playfully as he walked past, “Help yourself to what you want, girls.”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, strong arms bracing himself as he reached for another beer. Like his friend, he also had dark hair, but his fell messily in curls across his forehead. He was larger in build, his toned stomach and arms on show in the cut off t-shirt he was wearing. He took a swig of his beer as his eyes looked over the two girls stood in front of him.

“I’m James, by the way.” he flashed them a smile, “Ignore Sirius, he can be a proper diva sometimes,”

“I was only joking.” Sirius huffed, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m Lily.” she introduced herself, “and this is Y/N.” she gestured to her friend.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled, “Sorry about the beers.”

“Don’t mention it. It’d be a pretty shit party if we didn’t let people have a drink.” James laughed, his eyes lingering on Lily.

“Help yourself to the stuff in the fridge,” Sirius said, apologetic smile on his face as he looked at James out of the corner of his eye. His vision quickly snapped to a girl that walked past the doorway and he hastily excused himself before walking over to her and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“He’s a menace, that bloke.” James chuckled, rolling his eyes at Sirius, who now had the girl tangled in his arms.

“S’not surprising, that’s the joy of being in a band, right?” Lily laughed. She looked at Y/N out the corner of her eye, sensing the fact that she was a bit awestruck. Y/N took a large gulp of her beer, hoping that it would calm her nerves. Lily was always so cool and collected in situations like this.

“I suppose you’re right,” he nodded, his fingers tapping against the bottle in his hand, “D’you girls wanna come with me and we’ll find a seat somewhere?”

They agreed, and Lily and Y/N shot an excited look at each other as they followed James in to the living room.

“Oh my god!” Lily mouthed.

“I know!” Y/N whispered back.

The living room was a whole lot busier than the kitchen, people were draped across sofas, leaning against the walls, smoking, drinking, chatting. The music blared out and the atmosphere was electric. James kicked a couple of people off one of the sofas and settled down on it, gesturing for Y/N and Lily to join him. They chatted for a while, Y/N explaining that her and Lily were a fan of his band and how they had discovered them. James beamed at them as they spoke, leaning forward intently to what they had to say. Y/N grinned at her best friend, noticing that James seemed to be staring a whole lot at the red-haired girl.

“I’m gonna go get another beer,” Y/N excused herself, winking at Lily over her shoulder as she left her alone with James.

She wandered back into the kitchen. It was surprisingly clean to say it belonged to a group of boys in a band. The overhead light had been turned off and the kitchen was only illuminated by the light spilling in from the hallway. Y/N jumped as someone opened the fridge, the light further brightening the kitchen.

“Shit.” she said, startled, “I didn’t realise there was anyone in here.”

The person at the fridge turned around and smiled, a bottle in his hand.

“Sorry,” he smiled smally, “Was trying to escape the crowds a bit. Beer?”

He held an open bottle out to her, and she took it, leaning against the counter.

“Thanks.” she smiled, “Not a big fan of parties, then?”

The man shook his head, hoisting himself up onto the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen. His long legs hung over the edge, his boot-clad feet a few inches from skimming the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, messily fluffing it up. His features were sharp in the low light of the kitchen, and he nibbled on his lip awkwardly.

“S’not really my thing, to be honest.” he admitted, “My friends wanted me to come so...”

“I’m here with my friend too, but she’s sat in there talking to James, so I thought I’d leave them too it.”

Remus smiled understandingly, he fiddled with the cap of his bottle in his fingers, turning it over and over in his hand.

“That’s why most girls come to these things, I think.” He laughed a little bit, “You haven’t fallen for their charm then, no?”

“Nah. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love their music, I mean their lyrics-”

“Their lyrics?” Remus interrupted, the bottle cap dropping to the floor with a quiet clatter.

“Yeah? I’m assuming you listen to them, right?” Y/N answered, “Their lyrics are like, another level. You know that one line that’s like ‘I’d forgotten what it felt like to be alone.’”

“’But now I know how it feels to wish I never came home.’” Remus continued, “Yeah, I know it.”

“Something about that line, it just…I know it’s not the most crazy thing in the world but it just sounds like it really means something to them.” she explained, her eyes lighting up in excitement, “I just genuinely really love their music.”

Remus smiled, silently thanking God for the room being gloomy so that she couldn’t see the blush that had made its way onto his cheeks. Not many people knew that Remus wrote the songs for his friends' band, and he wanted to keep it that way. He hated being in the spotlight and he never ever wanted that to change. Though, something about the way that Y/N was talking about their lyrics, his lyrics, made him want to shout it from the rooftops. He smiled at the way her eyes seemed to be glowing and how she would gesture wildly with her hands when she made references to the songs that he’d written.

It felt like they had been talking for hours, holed away in the kitchen drinking bottle after bottle of beer. They exchanged bands that they liked, their favourite songs, recommended each other albums. Remus had never hit it off with someone like this before, it felt nice to have such a meaningful conversation. Their discussion only came to a halt when three familiar faces entered the room.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here then?” Sirius smirked, leaning against the doorway.

“We wondered where you’d gotten to, Moony.” James said, his arm wrapped around Lily’s shoulder.

“Didn’t want to intrude on you two,” Y/N laughed, gesturing to Lily and James, “You looked all cosy so I came in to get another beer and I met – wait, I actually didn’t get your name?” Her eyes snapped to Remus who had hopped down from the kitchen counter at his friends’ arrival.

“Oh, that’s Remus he’s our s-” Sirius started.

“Friend!” Remus quickly interrupted, “and housemate.”

Sirius and James exchanged a quick glance at each other, the curly haired boy jabbing his bandmate in the ribs.

“Right.” Sirius nodded, “Our friend. Best friend even.”

“I’m gonna go find the bathroom, want to come with?” Lily asked, looking at her best friend and cocking her head towards the door. Y/N agreed, and the two girls pushed their way upstairs into one of the bathrooms.

Locking the door behind them, Lily leaned against it, her face absolutely beaming.

“Oh my God.” she said, putting her hands up to her face excitedly.

“I know.” Y/N smiled, “Remus seems so nice, we seem to have really hit it off, you know.”

“Same with James and I.” Lily smiled, going over to the mirror and looking at her reflection, “He’s really hot.”

“Agreed. I didn’t realise that Remus was friends with them. Weird because all we’ve really talked about is music and he never mentioned it.”

“James said he was quite shy, he said he never usually comes to their parties and that him and Sirius had to convince him to come tonight. From the way he was looking at you, I bet he’s pretty glad that he did.” Lily looked at her friend excitedly in the mirror. She reached into her bag and pulled out her lipstick, reapplying it and quickly fixing her hair.

The morning after the party, the three boys were stood in the kitchen, James was holding open a bin bag and Remus was throwing away the empty bottles and cups that were strewn over the sides. Sirius, being his usual self, was being absolutely no help and was sat on the counter with a cigarette balanced between his lips and a cup of coffee in hand.

“Did you get her number then?” Sirius grinned looking at James.

“Lily? Yeah, I did.” James smiled, his mop of curls falling messily into his eyes, “she’s great, I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl like her, you know?” Sirius rolled his eyes playfully in response and pretended to gag.

“You’re so wet sometimes, Jamie.” he said, “What about you, Moony? You spent half the night sat in here with her friend.”

Remus frowned and shook his head, throwing yet another empty bottle into the bag.

“Nah. She didn’t give it me and I was too nervous to ask.”

“Not to worry, mate.” James clapped him on the back, “We’re seeing them next week anyway. I said to Lily that we’ll all go out for a drink on Friday.”

“You did? Why?”

“’Cause Lily is sweet and I want to get to know her better, and you were practically drooling over Y/N.”

“I wasn’t drooling.” Remus protested.

“Rem, you literally went straight to your room after they left and started writing a song about her.” Sirius laughed and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray by his side.

Although it was true, Remus couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks. He was absolutely infatuated by Y/N. He’d never had a girl that was interested in him before. On the odd occasion that he did attend one of the parties that his friends hosted, no girls would ever make the effort with him like Y/N did, they usually just flocked towards Sirius and James, and he was just seen as their friend and housemate. He often wondered if he would be treated differently if people knew that it was him that wrote a lot of the songs that the band played, that it was his mind behind the lyrics that his friends sang. The lyrics that Y/N loved.

Remus felt a pang in his stomach as he thought about it. About how Y/N loved the lyrics but had no idea that it was him that wrote them. He hated how she didn’t know that it was his thoughts that spilled onto the pages of music, that rolled off her tongue like honey when she quoted them to him. He was so desperate for her to know that it was all him and he felt so stupid that he didn’t just tell her that.

Friday came and Remus was nervous as the three of them walked into the pub. He wiped his clammy palms on his trousers as they waited at the bar for their drinks. He didn’t know why he felt so anxious about seeing Y/N again when they had got on so well at the party.

The three of them settled on a booth table in the back of the pub, all of them cramming into one side so that the girls could sit opposite them when they arrived. Remus was leaning forward, his chin rested on his hand as he started intently at the bubbles that fizzed in his pint. His eyes snapped up when he saw Y/N arrive, sliding into the booth and sitting directly opposite from him.

“Hey!” she smiled brightly, “Nice to re-meet you all again now we’re all slightly more sober.”

“Not for much longer, probably,” James chuckled, picking up his pint glass and clinking it against Y/N and Lily’s.

“Sirius has only just about sobered up from the party.” Remus quipped, smirking at the dark-haired boy. Y/N laughed at his joke, much to Sirius’s annoyance.

“He comes to one party and now he’s giving it the big one.” Sirius rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. Remus’s hand that wasn’t holding his drink was resting on his lap, his fingers tapping away nervously as he tried to think of something to say. Y/N looked at Remus from across the table and smiled at him.

“I’ve only just gotten over my hangover to be honest. I feel like I singlehandedly drank all of the beer that was in your fridge.” Y/N laughed.

“I feel like I gave you a solid hand, to be honest.” Remus grinned.

“Yeah, I reckon I’ve found my new drinking partner. Sorry, Lil.” Y/N winked at her best friend. “Speaking of beer, I’m going to go grab one, d’you guys want anything?”

“Same again, please.” Sirius smiled, fishing into his pocket for a note and handing it to her, “Rem, you’re sat on the end, go help, will you?”

As Remus stood up to go to the bar, Y/N was already halfway there. Sirius shot a wink at him as he departed. Y/N leaned confidently against the bar as she ordered, resting her hand against her chin as she made small talk with the barman. Remus slid in next to her, his hip bumping against hers.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Y/N smiled, looking up at him.

“Yeah, you too. I’m glad you and Lily came, James seems really keen on her.”

“Oh, good because she genuinely hasn’t stopped speaking about him since they met.

“Yeah, he has that effect on girls.” Remus chuckled, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes and fiddling with the box as they waited for their drinks.

“I have something for you, actually.” Y/N took a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to him, her fingers brushing against his, lingering for a second before letting go. Remus unfolded it and his eyes darted across the page, quickly skimming over the words.

“It’s a list of all the albums I recommended to you at the party. I figured that you might have forgotten some with how drunk we were.” she explained, “Also, I hope you don’t mind but I wrote my number on their as well because I’m expecting you to call me and tell me your thoughts on each one.”

His cheeks turned pink and he quickly slipped the paper into his pocket.

“I did the same for you!” Remus exclaimed, pulling his own scrap of paper from his pocket and handing it to her, “There were a few albums I forgot to tell you about and I really think you’ll like them.”

Y/N’s mouth opened in shock, and she pulled Remus in for a clumsy hug. Over her shoulder, he saw James and Sirius grinning and giving him a thumbs up and Lily who had made a heart shape with her hands.

“She gave you her number?” Sirius asked excitedly as soon as they got home from the pub, “Well in, Moony.”

“You guys looked pretty cosy up at the bar as well.” James added. Remus shrugged, picking up his notebook that was laying on the table.

“I think you should just call her and ask her out on a date.” Sirius said bluntly, “What have you got to lose? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My dignity? Being rejected by the potential girl of my dreams?” Remus said dramatically, scribbling something down, the pen scratching against the paper.

“What are you going to do then? Just write songs about her in the hopes that she one day hears them? C’mon, Moony!” Sirius exclaimed.

It was around a week later when Remus finally plucked up the courage to give Y/N a call – after much nagging from his two best friends. He paced his room nervously as the phone rang and rang and rang. His heart was pounding in his chest and he debated just hanging up.

“Hello?” Lily’s voice answered.

“Oh, er, hi Lily. It’s Remus, I was just wondering if-”

“Y/N!” Lily shouted cutting him off, “dream boy is on the phone.”

Remus blushed as he heard her say that. He heard a slap on the other side of the phone and Y/N’s voice hissing at her friend to shut up. Lily’s laugh rang out in the background.

“Sorry about that,” Y/N laughed nervously.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” Remus chuckled, “did you just hit her?”

“Yeah I did. She’s my best friend, I get full rights to hit her whenever she tries to embarrass me.”

“I didn’t know that. I’ll keep that in mind next time James and Sirius try to wind me up.”

“It’s a solid loophole.” Y/N said matter-of-factly, “So, why’d you call?”

“You gave me your number, that’s how it works isn’t it?” Remus joked, his shoulders starting to relax a little. He perched on the edge of his bed, twizzling the phone cord around his fingers, “I listened to the albums you recommended. I didn’t think I’d meet anyone with a music taste that’s nearly as good as mine.”

“Nearly as good?” She echoed, pretending to be offended, “are you questioning my music taste now?”

“I mean, yours is good. I’m just not sure it’s quite as good as mine.” Remus said, smirk evident in his voice, “that being said, I’m not done with you yet.”

Y/N laughed and Remus smiled to himself. He loved when he made her laugh. Girls never usually found him funny when he was with James and Sirius. James had a sort of silly charm about him that girls seemed to adore, and Sirius was viciously witty when he wanted to be. Remus's dry, sarcastic sense of humour had never really been a hit with girls, and it was refreshing for him to have someone that matched his energy.

They chatted for hours. Remus sprawled out over his bed, his records scattered around him as he pored over lyrics. They read snippets out to each other from their favourite albums, occasionally playing a song loud enough for the other to hear it on the other end of the phone. He imagined Y/N sitting in her room, cross legged on the floor, record player set out in front of her. He pictured her smiling, tapping her fingers along to the music she was playing, jotting down names of songs and lines of lyrics as he reeled them off to her.

Remus of course, was doing the same. His battered leather notebook resting in his lap, holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he scribbled down messily.

“It’s just... it sounds dumb but sometimes when I’m listening to certain songs, I relate to it so strongly it feels like it was written for me. Y’know, as if the artist had me in mind while writing it.” Y/N said.

“I know exactly what you mean.” Remus flicked back through the pages of his notebook, his eyes dancing over the lyrics and half-finished songs that he’d written about her. He frowned momentarily, an ache forming in his stomach when he realised that she might not ever hear the songs that he’d written for her. He barely knew the girl but the lyrics flowed so freely when he wrote about her. He wanted desperately for her to know exactly how he felt about her, exactly who he was. Remus’s mind started to run away with his thoughts, and for a moment, he lost himself in his fantasy. Imagining her listening to one of the songs, one of her songs, listening to the words he had written for her, singing along to the melody he had crafted while she was on his mind.

The pair’s phone calls became a nightly occurrence. They would take it in turns to ring each other, make polite small talk about their days and then spend hours upon hours chatting freely. Remus quickly became comfortable with her, his personality starting to shine through as his confidence grew.

Sirius and James started to notice this and began to invite Y/N to everything that they did, knowing that Remus would need a bit of extra encouragement before he actually asked her out on his own.

The five of them were currently sat in the boys’ basement. James and Lily snuggled up together on one sofa, Y/N, Remus and Sirius on another. This had become a regular occurrence since James and Lily had become a bit of an item, and how the rest of the group were trying to get Y/N and Remus together.

“Chuck my pack of cigs, James.” Sirius asked, gesturing to the box that lay beside the curly haired boy.

“S’empty, Pads.” James replied, not even bothering to check, “Rem took the last one.”

Sirius’ head snapped round to look at Remus, his mouth open in shock. He got up and grabbed the empty packet from the sofa and chucked it at Remus.

“You cheeky little prick,” an amused smile played on his lips “You know the rules. You finish ‘em, you buy ‘em.”.

“I’ll go.” Y/N said, standing up. “I can grab some snacks and some beers and stuff while I’m there. Anyone fancy coming with?”

Y/N glanced at Remus quickly, his gaze was fixed on cigarette packet that Sirius threw at him, he fiddled with it idly, flicking it open and shut repeatedly. Her eyes darted around the room before landing on Lily who quickly got to her feet and agreed to go with her.

“You’re so fucking thick, Moony.” Sirius said after the two girls had left.

“What?”

“She was making a move, idiot.” James laughed, sitting up straight, “she wanted you to go with her.”

“How’d you come to that conclusion then?”

“Let me re-enact it for you.” Sirius moved to stand in front of Remus, “Oh, I wonder if anyone would like to come to the shop with me,” Sirius acted dramatically, pretending to stare lovingly at Remus.

“Give over, Pads.” Remus sighed, “She’s not interested in me like that.”

“You’re joking, right?” James chuckled, “Have you actually lost your mind? Why do you think she keeps coming over with Lily?”

“Girls like that just aren’t interested in me, James.” Remus said, “She’ll just be here because of Lily.” He crushed the empty cigarette packet in his hands as he spoke.

“Remus. I’m speaking to you as your best friend-.”

“Oi!” Sirius protested.

“Sorry! Remus. I’m speaking to you as one of your best friends.” James corrected himself, rolling his eyes at Sirius. “You two speak to each other on the phone every single night. For hours.”

“She laughs at all your stupid jokes.” Sirius continued. “The last ten times her and Lily have been around here she can barely take her eyes off of you.”

“For the love of God, please just tell her that you like her.” James insisted.

That was how, in the twenty minutes that the girls had left to go to the shop, the boys had devised a plan on how Remus was going to tell Y/N about how he felt.

“Operation ‘Get Moony His Dream Girl’ is a go!” James said as he heard the front door open as Y/N and Lily arrived back at the house.

If there was one thing about James and Sirius, it was if there was an opportunity to meddle in their best friend’s love life, then you better believe they were going to meddle. That was how Y/N and Lily had ended up with tickets to the bands next concert.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Sirius asked, as he plucked at the strings of his guitar.

“We learn Moony’s song. We play it at the gig and hopefully Y/N realises that it’s about her and that he’s absolutely besotted with her.” James explained.

“He’ll hate that idea. There’s no way that he’ll agree to let us do it.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’re not going to tell him, Pads.”

“You’re such a little rascal sometimes. I love it.” Sirius grinned.

It was easy for the pair to practice the song without Remus knowing. They would sneak down to the basement while he was on the phone to Y/N and play it over and over until it was perfect.

“It’s hard work being match-makers, isn’t it?” Sirius said, grabbing some beers from the fridge and popping the tops off. He handed one to James who took a large gulp as he slumped against his drumkit.

“It’ll all be worth it.” He grinned, clinking his beer against Sirius’s.

James was right, Remus was none the wiser. He had absolutely no idea what the bands setlist was, he just put it down to the pair being extremely unorganised and indecisive. He didn’t even know that the girls were coming until James accidentally let it slip while they were sound checking.

“I spoke to Y/N on the phone last night and she didn’t mention that they were coming.” Remus frowned. He was sat on the edge of the stage, his legs hanging over the edge while his friends prepared their equipment for the concert.

“Maybe she just wanted to surprise you.” Sirius shrugged, his fingers skimming over the strings of his guitar as he tuned it.

“As a matter of fact, you didn’t mention that they were coming!” Remus accused, glaring at them both.

“Surprise?” James said cheekily.

While the concert was in progress, Remus usually watched from the side of the stage, not being one for big crowds of people. He leaned against the wall, looking out at his two friends whose stage presence seemed almost effortless. Sirius looked so at ease with a microphone at his lips and a guitar hanging at his hips. He spoke to the crowd easily, introducing song after song, dropping in the odd joke here and there. James was the same, microphone set up next to his drum kit so that he could sing along and interact with Sirius. His body sheened with sweat, and he winked at Remus as he locked eyes with him.

James jutted his head towards the crowd and Remus’s eyes followed in the direction of the front row. His eyes scanned across the barrier quickly before his gaze settled on two familiar faces. Y/N and Lily were stood front and centre, huge grins plastered on their faces. Y/N was leaning against the metal railing, her eyes fixated on the band and her lips moving in sync with the music. Remus thought that he’d never seen someone look so pretty. The way her eyes glittered with the reflection of the stage lights, the way her body swayed in time with the music. He was broken from his trance when he heard James and Sirius start speaking, his eyes snapping back to them.

“This is our last song and we’ve got a bit of a treat for you tonight, so you should all count yourselves lucky.” Sirius smirked, looking out across the sea of people.

“This is the first time we’ve played this song live. In fact, it’s the first time any of you will have heard this song.” James grinned, raking a hand through his damp curls.

Remus’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t aware that the two had written any new songs, let alone had them polished and practiced enough ready to perform live. He shot a quizzical look at his friends, who just smiled mischievously back at him.

His stomach dropped as he heard the first few notes that Sirius played, he thought he was going to throw up when the lyrics fell from his lips. They were playing his song. Y/N’s song.

He frantically looked over at Y/N, searching her face for any indication that she knew that the song was about her. He couldn’t see properly now the lights had dimmed and his heart was pounding in his chest as the crowd broke out into applause as Sirius and James walked off stage.

“James! Sirius!” he exclaimed, as the pair walked past him to set their equipment down.

“We only answer to ‘Cupid’ now.” Sirius said smugly, strapping his guitar back into his case.

“You can thank us properly later, Moony, yeah?” James said, flashing him another wink, “I’ve got to and find Lily. C’mon, Pads.”

Remus didn’t even have time to protest as he watched his friends disappear in the direction of the bar. He went to race after them, but he was stopped in his tracks as someone latched on to his arm.

“Was it about me?” Y/N’s voice spoke. Remus turned around slowly, a sinking feeling present in his stomach.

“W-what?” Remus stammered

“That song. Was it about me?” Y/N persisted. She was stood right in front of him now, barely inches away from him. Her eyes were twinkling but she had her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

“I - I don’t - I didn’t know they were-”

Remus’s flustering was cut short by Y/N smashing her lips against his. He gasped as her soft lips enveloped his own, heart racing. He steadied his shaky hands by resting them on her hips.

“I didn’t know you wrote the songs.” Y/N breathed, finally pulling away. Remus nodded, at a loss for words. A blush had made itself at home on his cheeks and he knew that it wasn’t going to shift anytime soon.

“I didn’t know you liked me like that.” Remus choked out finally. Y/N’s eyebrows shot up and she let out a laugh.

“Here I was thinking that I was making it obvious.” she laughed, “Why didn’t you tell me that you were their songwriter? We literally spent hours talking about their lyrics, your lyrics!”

“Because I’m an idiot apparently.” Remus smiled, looking at her fondly, “I didn’t know how to say it. I don’t like the spotlight and the attention like the others do. Not many people know.”

“I’m glad I know now.”

“Me too.” He caught her lips with his again, for longer this time. Remus felt the tension leave his body as he melted into her. His hands on her waist and her arms around his neck. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as it dawned on him that she finally knew who he was.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fan fic #marauders band au #marauders fanfiction

193 notes · View notes

edgepunk · 4 months

Text

I'm in a weird cold medicine delirium so I somehow finished this petermj piece that I had in my wips for a while (I hope this doesn't get nuked even though it's very tame sjkhsdk)

there are many benefits to having an alien goo buddy [reposted because it wasn't showing up in the tags]

[ref]

#spider man #spiderman #peter parker #mary jane watson #mj watson #petermj #peter x mj #my drawing #if it doesn't show up in the tags again I will cry #edit: IT WORKS WE GOOD

104 notes · View notes

shygirl4991 · 3 months

Text

Cover art by @merp0515 Gmod art by @b-r-i-n-g-x Do not repost art (this fic is for my sib bringx have an awesome day!) Summary: Frustrated with SMG4, Three takes his stress out on a pair of dolls he put in Fours room. Slowly secret feelings slip out with a guest catching the whole show.

Tag: love confession, first kiss, dorks in love,fluff

SMG3 huffs walking away from four and the rest of the crew annoyed, SMG4 wanted to do a video testing everyone's skills in different challenges. Four knew that Three wasn't about eating challenges and other silly activities the others would be into, yet the man still told Three he had to eat a bunch of pasta against their avatar. He storms into the castle thinking on how to blow off steam since the group was using his cafe as background to help boost interest. He noticed that Four left his room open, there in the chest of his room were two doll made to look like their old design.

He keeps stomping as he makes his way to his partner's room, he slams the door shut and looks at the dolls. He picks them up frowning, seeing their old design brought back not so pleasant memories for him. He sits on the floor with the dolls and sighs changing the pitch of his voice he begins to move around the SMG4 doll “Oh Three mind doing some really stupid shit that will make you look like an idiot, haha that was a joke i dont give a shit go do it!” he picks up his doll and starts moving it “You're just giving me these roles cause you know i'm better than you, i'm A tier while your just a D tier scrub!”

He kept going back and forth getting his anger about the events out of his system, slowly something else surfaced as he brought the doll together. He blushed seeing how close the dolls were, he brought them closer as his heart raced at the thought of making them kiss. Is this something that he wanted?

He thinks back over everything they have gone through, he had to admit since confessing he saw the other man as a friend the pair had gotten closer. They joke around more, they hold hands more often not because he likes it after all they had to use their powers in that way. Lately he has not been able to get SMG4 out of his head, the idea of spending time with him made his chest feel strange. He thinks back to the last time he felt this way, he met Gary, he saved him from an explosion he caused due to using too much gunpowder they hit it off well until his obsession with SMG4 got in the middle.

He sighs dropping the dolls, everything that has gone wrong was because of the idiot. Yet at the same time all the best memories he had was also with the man, with conflicting emotions he grabs the dolls again and makes them kiss.

He smiles softly at the sight, it reminded him of their first kiss that Mario made them do. He acted like he hated it but deep down he knew he loved it, he changed his voice and moved the SMG4 doll “Your so awesome SMG3, no wonder you became tumblr sexy man. Lately my thoughts on you have changed.” he moves the other doll making it seem shocked “What are you saying SMG4!?” Lost in his game of pretending he doesn't hear the door open as SMG4 went to check on him. He blinks seeing Three sitting by his bed holding the two dolls, he slowly walks towards him hearing the man speaking.

SMG3 blushes feeling a bit embarrassed from what he was going to say “Well what i mean is i love you SMG3,” with that he makes the SMG4 doll kiss his. Seeing this SMG4 lets out a giggle “Hey Three what are you doing over there?” startled SMG3 screamed, throwing the dolls away from him.

Three turns giving the man an awkward smile “OH SMG4 how long have you been there?” Four couldnt help the smirk growing on his face as he looked at the dolls now abandoned. “Oh just got here, heard a voice in my room and wanted to check it out.” he then walks over and sits next to the man still smirking “What were you doing?”

Three lets out a nervous chuckle “Uh oh! Getting stressed out so I was teaching your stupid doll a lesson!” He smiles feeling confident that his answer lured Four away from the truth. Four hums picking up his doll then he turns to SMG3 “Well don't stop because of me let me help you out!” Three eyes go wide before he can decline the offer SMG4 presses the doll's lips on his cheek, causing him to blush.

Three stared wide-eyed at Four who then hides behind the doll “I can't help that i fell in love with you, we are friends now no longer rivals! I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. Could you ever forgive me?” still blushing he grabs his doll and talks behind it “Sure whatever this is fucking stupid why are we doing this?” Four moves the doll closer to him. Three was watching every move that Four was doing, nervous as to what the man in blue was planning.

“Because we had a fight earlier and i want to make it up to you,” Three blinks surprised to hear four words. Without thinking he leans forward, seeing this Four took his chance placing his own lips on Three. After the quick kiss, Fours face was dark red, he got up acting as if nothing happened “We should head back to the others!” Three gets up and grabs the blushing man pulling him into another kiss, dolls forgotten on the floor as the two share a kiss. As they pull away, Four looks at Three in awe, Three rubbing his arm “uh what just happened?”

Four shyly looked down “My confession with the doll wasn’t a lie, i got interested in dating…looked around and no one caught my eye. But that's when I noticed an apple already did and it's you..” SMG3 smiles hugging Four “You're such an idiot… I feel the same.” They pull away smiling softly at each other before leaving the room, Four then comes up with an idea. Telling Three he needs something he runs to his room and grabs the dolls, he places them on his bed now holding hands. He giggles and runs out of the room “HEY BABE NEW IDEA FOR A VIDEO!”

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #fluff #love confessions

69 notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 1 year

Text

lavender haze (dark mode)

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank castle never imagined he would ever fall in love again, and he certainly never imagined love could feel like this.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, mentions of sexual content (minors pls dni), mentions of pregnancy, a lil angst

word count: 8.6k

a/n: your eyes do not deceive you, this is a repost! the first time I posted this, there was some kind of glitch that changed the color of the text which made it impossible to read on dark mode. I was unable to fix it, and i've been waiting for that glitch to be fixed. it hasn't happened with any of my, or anyone else's posts lately, so it seemed like the right time to repost this for anyone that wasn't able to read it the first time because of the dark mode issue. I truly appreciate everyone being so patient, and even reaching out to me about reposting because you wanted to be able to read it. that makes my lil heart so happy, you have no idea. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

tags: @hellskitchens-whore

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don’t ever say too much

And you don’t really read into

My melancholia

Frank didn’t know how you did it. You always seemed to just…know. You knew when he felt like talking. You knew when he didn’t. You knew when he wanted to listen to you talk about your day. You knew when he needed comfortable silence. You could tell when he wanted your touch, and when he needed to be left alone. You posed all of your questions meticulously with caution, always stopping an inch before the invisible boundary he had created. You didn’t take offense to his brooding moods that emerged from a detour into the past. You didn’t cover your ears at the silence that echoed when he got lost in the disconsolate caverns in his mind. You didn’t flinch at the scars you could touch, or the ones you could hear in his intermittent vulnerability. You seemed to understand him in a way no one ever had before. Sometimes Frank felt like you understood him more than he even did.

He gazed down at you as your eyes stayed fixated up at the ceiling. Today had been a bad day. He couldn’t remember if he had even asked if you were home before his fist was colliding with your front door, letting out a breath of relief he hadn't even noticed he was holding until your face came into focus. Did he even say hello to you? Did he utter anything at all? He couldn’t remember. Somehow the two of you had ended up on the floor by your record player, your head resting comfortably in his lap, as Elton John’s Rocket Man flowed through the speakers. He could hear you humming faintly as your eyes drifted closed for a moment, your palm delicately stretched out towards him in case he wanted to hold it, or simply letting him know you were there if he didn’t.

Music was how the two of you communicated sometimes. It was how you tried to relate to him when your own words weren’t enough. When he was quiet like this, your choices in music were more purposeful, to either let him know you understood some of what he felt, or to try to soothe the ache with what you knew he enjoyed. Sometimes Frank feared you really could read his mind, especially in moments like these when you seemed to know exactly what he needed without a single word. Even before he knew what he needed. He hated the thought of you being able to see into the carnage that occupied his skull. Of course he knew that was fucking ridiculous. He didn’t even know if you knew what you could do, and if you were aware, you never showed it.

Frank hadn’t had someone to run to in a long time. Someone he didn’t feel like a burden to in doing so. It had taken him longer than he’d like to admit to be comfortably exposed with you. Slowly but surely, he tore his own guard down brick by brick as you waited patiently. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to be a liability for you, he was also nervous about just how much of himself he could reveal without running you off. Frank had managed to find you during yet another really low point in his life; a glimmer of light through all the darkness. He still remembers the day he met you in that bookstore. He often replays that memory in his head like an old comforting home movie.

You had complimented his choice in literature as he held a worn copy of The Great Gatsby in his hands, disclosing to him that it was one of your favorites. Frank was instantly captivated by you and your sweet smile. For a good ten minutes you stood there with him, discussing books you had both read, and recommending a few of your other favorites to him that you thought he would like based on his previous reads. It made him feel so…human. There was a warmth about you that made him shiver.

To this day, Frank still doesn’t know where he found the courage to ask you to coffee, and he still has absolutely no idea why you said yes. All he knew was that he loved you, and that seemed to be enough.

I’ve been under scrutiny

You handle it beautifully

All this shit is new to me

When news broke that the Punisher was back in New York, the media had a fucking field day. Frank knew he was at fault. He had been a little too reckless and not bothered to check for cameras at the warehouse. Madani was pissed. She was giving him an earful over the phone. She wasn’t on speaker, but Frank knew you could hear every word she was saying from your spot on the couch. Every news channel seemed to be debating on the alternating justifications on why Frank was a necessary anti-hero, or why he was a psychopathic murderer. After about three minutes, you simply just shut off the tv.

Frank wasn’t even hardly paying attention to Madani’s words. Hell he didn’t even fucking care what they were saying about him on the news. If he valued public opinion, he wouldn’t be who he was. His eyes kept glancing over at you. There was a neutral look on your face, but Frank wasn’t sure if that was for your sake or his. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in your head. He didn’t know what to say. You knew who Frank was when you met, and you had never given any indication that who he really was bothered you, but that did nothing to dull the anxiety throbbing in his veins.

This was all completely unchartered territory for him, and he was absolutely lost. He had never talked to Maria about the horrors he endured and committed during his tours. Frank had vowed to keep that part of his life separate from his family when he came home. But Maria had the luxury of his anonymity. You didn’t. You didn’t have the privilege of a soldier just following orders. The evidence of his brutality was plastered everywhere for you to see. It was no longer something unspoken the two of you pretended wasn’t lurking in the shadows. It was glaring you right in the face. Frank didn’t know how you would react, and if he was being honest with himself, he was fucking scared. He didn’t want to lose the one good thing he had found that made life worth living again. He didn’t want to lose you.

Frank cut Madani’s rampage off with the pad of his thumb, placed his phone on silent, and set it face down on the counter. He would deal with that later. This was more important.

“You were never s’posed to see any of this.”

Your head perked up when his gruff voice cut through the silence. There was a tender expression in your eyes, and your lips had pulled into a sympathetic smile.

“I know. Flaunting isn’t really your style. I’m sure this will all blow over in a couple days. Dinah will calm down eventually. It’s all going to be okay, Frank.”

The conviction in your voice had a lump forming in Frank’s throat. Despite everything, here you were trying to comfort him. Frank didn’t know what to do other than settle on his knees in front of you on the floor, head nestled against your stomach as his arms wrapped tightly around your body in silent begging.

“I’m so sorry ‘bout all this, sweetheart. I didn’t…I never wanted any of this shit to come back to you.”

“Frank, you have never lied to me about who you are, and I have never pretended to not know.”

“Doesn’t mean I ever wanted you to see this side of me. I could handle you knowin’. That’s one thing. But seein’…what I do…I don’t want you to change your mind…”

Frank’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t finish that sentence. He closed his eyes as he felt your fingers carding through his hair.

“Hey, look at me.”

Frank couldn’t. He was afraid of what he would see. The disgust at his actions, the regret in your choices, the recant of your affection. It wasn’t someone else’s bullets ripping away his happiness this time. It was his own. There would be no one else to blame for this. No one else’s blood would satiate this desperate vengeance. He would have to live with his own wrath and guilt. After a moment of silence, you gently cupped his strong jaw and lifted his chin to meet your warm gaze. Frank reluctantly met your eyes, but he didn’t find the repulsion he expected. All he found was acceptance.

“I love you, Frank Castle. I know exactly who you are. I don’t need anyone else to tell me. You are the man that makes me feel safe. You are the man who makes me feel special and loved. You are the man that risks his life over and over again to protect people. You are the man that brings me daisies when you know I’ve had a bad day. You are the man that twirls me around the kitchen when we’re cooking dinner together. I know you, and I love you. Every side of you. There is nothing you, or anyone else, could ever do or say that would change the way I see you, or the way I feel about you. I promise.”

Not even Frank’s own self inflicted loathing and contempt could combat your verity. He could hear the unrelenting sincerity dripping from your words as your lips brushed past his ear. He could see the genuine devotion reflected in your eyes when he held your gaze from underneath him. He could feel the profound adoration in the gentleness of your touch, holding his face in your hands as his hips found refuge between yours. He could taste the ardent desire on your lips over and over as he made love to you right there. He could even smell the sentiment of a silent promise made from the intermingling of both of your climaxes lingering in the aftermath of his display of gratitude.

Frank didn’t know what the future held for a man like him that had ventured through hell and back several times over and cheated death more times than he could count. But he had a second chance at life, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Not when he had found you. He already felt like he won the goddamn jackpot when you agreed to that first date, and he wasn’t sure how much luck he had left to really make this work. But as long as you wanted him around, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t find a way.

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When was the last time he had felt this happy? This…light? Frank couldn’t remember. It had to have been during the early years of being married to Maria, before he started getting deeper into classified ops that held more and more pieces of him hostage with every completed mission. Before he started to feel anxious about going home because he wasn’t sure who he was there. Before he started preferring being covered in blood dodging bullets with his unit than being around his own kids.

All of that felt like another lifetime ago. Frank supposed it was, in a way. It was all a little hazy in the back of his mind sometimes. Whether that was from the tequila you had talked him into or the way your hips were swaying to the song filling the small space of the dive bar you two had become regulars at, he wasn’t sure. Could’ve been a bit of both. But as he watched you move from across the room, a playful grin on your lips as you beckoned him over with your index finger, everything else seemed to fade away.

God, you could dance. Frank was mesmerized the first time he saw the way you could move your hips. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching you from his seat at the bar, but that was nothing compared to watching you from below that night. Frank was drawn to you like a magnet, his feet moving before his brain even caught up. He grinned when you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a dizzying kiss. Frank wrapped his arms around your waist as tightly as he could, sneaking one of his large hands up the back of your shirt to feel the warmth of the soft skin on your lower back. His hands found their way to your hips of their own accord, like they always did.

“Hey, big guy.”

“Hi darlin’.”

“You weren’t gonna come dance with me?”

“Just enjoyin’ the view, sweetheart. You know I like to watch.”

Frank reveled in the way your cheeks burned a deeper shade of red, doe eyes widening and lips parting slightly in surprise. You quickly recovered, a knowing smirk taking over your mouth as you pressed your chest against his.

“Well if you wanted a private show, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Frank dipped his head to brush his nose along the underside of your jaw, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin just below your ear before nipping at it just hard enough to earn a sharp gasp from you. He let one of his large hands trail down your lower back, giving your ass a playful smack before grabbing a handful of it and squeezing gently.

“Alright then, pretty girl. Let’s get outta here.”

There weren’t always nights like this where the two of you got to go out freely and just be a regular couple. But on the occasions where you did get a little normalcy, Frank wanted it to last forever. He didn’t even want to go to sleep those nights. He just wanted to stay in the moment with you, and milk it for all it was worth. The rare moments when he wasn’t The Punisher. He wasn’t the Marine. He wasn’t a widower that had fatherhood ripped away from him. He wasn’t weighed down by the weight of the world and another lifetime of trauma and loss.

He was just Frank, and he was just yours.

All they keep asking me

Is if I’m gonna be your bride

The only kind of girl they see

Is a one night or a wife

Curt and David had both been giving Frank hell about you. They continuously kept asking him when he was gonna “lock that shit down”. The first time he had brought you around them, they were both absolutely stunned that Frank had landed someone like you. Curt had jokingly offered to give you a head exam, and David had repeatedly asked how much Frank was paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

“No seriously, I lived with this asshole for several months. There’s no fucking way he landed someone like you, unless he’s paying you. Granted…he did try to steal my wife once, but that was under the guise of alcohol and desperation on her part. Is that it Frank? You just keep her drunk so she doesn’t fully see your face or recognize how much of a dick you are?”

“Oh for fucks sake Lieberman, for the last goddamn time I didn’t-sweetheart you know what, just ignore him. We all do anyway.”

“What I think D is tryin’ to say is that we think it’s great you’re so involved in charity. I mean, you’re doin’ a real public service here. We appreciate your sacrifice, truly. I ain’t seen this man smile this much in…years.”

“This is why I can’t fuckin’ take y’all anywhere, Jesus Christ.”

Despite the teasing, you had fit in effortlessly with them. Anyone passing by the table would’ve thought you had all been friends for years. There was no awkwardness or hesitation to acclimate, you had even dished back your own playful banter throughout the evening earning you eyebrows raised in surprise and prideful smirks from Frank.

“Y’all keep fuckin’ with my girl, and I ain’t gonna hold her back. She ain’t always as nice as she looks. Hell, she hits harder than both of y’all combined. Trust me.”

Curt and David both adored you, not only because of how good you were for Frank, but also because they really genuinely liked you. As the months added up to a year, they both kept pressuring Frank to take the next step in your relationship. Once they had figured out you weren’t just a fling, and that Frank had truly fallen in love with you, neither one of them could wrap their head around why he wouldn’t want to make it official. Curt knew Frank would always love Maria, and that there would never be any replacing her. But he also knew that there would never be another you. You were Frank’s second shot. There wouldn’t be a third. There wasn’t room in his heart for a third.

Frank wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were way out of his league. Not only were you absolutely way too good for him, he also thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He noticed all the eyes on you everytime the two of you went somewhere. He didn’t miss the utter confusion written evidently on guy’s faces when you reached for his hand to intertwine your fingers together or pressed a kiss to his lips with a huge grin. He resisted the urge to stalk over and snap something out of place when their disrespectful stares lasted a little too long for his liking. But you never noticed any of it. Because every time Frank brought his gaze back to you, your eyes were already on him. They were always on him.

It wasn’t that Frank didn’t see a future with you. When he thought about what the rest of his life looked like, you were always there. He loved you entirely. He just wasn’t sure if he could be a husband again. Frank had proposed to Maria three months into their relationship because she was pregnant, and it was the right decision. Not to say that they would’ve never gotten married had she not been pregnant, but everything had happened so fast. Frank became a husband and a father almost overnight. He didn’t regret a second of his marriage with Maria, but he didn’t want to repeat it. He wanted to take his time with you. Frank wanted to savor every moment with you, just as you were. No pressure, no expectations, just you and him.

You were the first person Frank had ever met that didn’t ask him to be someone else. You didn’t ask him to hide the parts of himself that were scary. You didn’t try to tame the aspects of his life that were tumultuous. You didn’t try to redirect his daunting choices. You didn’t try to pull him in a million different directions and expect him to be someone he wasn’t. You let him be exactly who he was, and loved him all the same. Frank didn’t need a piece of paper to know how much you loved him, or that you were his. You proved that to him every single day.

I find it dizzying

They’re bringing up my history

But you aren’t even listening

Madani was on a rampage. Frank hadn’t tied things up as neatly as she had wanted, and arguably had left a bit of a mess, and she was furious. Enough to show up at his front door with Mahoney ten minutes shy of five in the morning with more rage than a person should ever have that early. Since you and Frank had recently moved in together, they were also at your front door, and Frank knew that once you were awake there was no going back to sleep for you. Pushing his own annoyance to the side, Frank apologized profusely, but you simply shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to make coffee for the four of you.

She wanted Frank to go back in and finish the job, this time wrapping everything up neatly with a bow. No loose ends. No mess. But to Frank, it wasn’t worth the risk. The previous case had taken months of prep work and careful planning. The target was high profile, with even more high profile friends, and was someone the U.S. government was not technically supposed to be going after. Madani had given Frank very strict instructions, all of which he did his best to follow, but there were unforeseen complications he had to improvise with.

“It ain’t worth the risk, Madani. They know someone’s gunnin’ for ‘em now. It ain’t gonna be as easy to catch ‘em off guard again. The security this guy has now could put the fuckin’ secret service to shame.”

“I can’t just let him go, Castle. If this guy goes underground, that’s it. We won’t have another chance. This has to happen now.”

“I get that Dinah, alright I do. But there ain’t enough time to put somethin’ together that’s gonna work. We don’t even have-”

“Oh bullshit! That’s complete bullshit Frank, and you know it. If this guy had kidnapped Karen Page, you’d be there in a heartbeat and he’d be dead by now. You have no problem running straight into the fire when your own selfish interests are at risk but not when I fucking need you to.”

Frank’s jaw tensed at the mention of Karen and his eyes immediately diverted to you. You were finally making your own cup of coffee after bringing three to the table for them. If you had reacted to her name at all, Frank didn’t see it. He had mentioned Karen briefly to you once a few months ago, and how she had helped him find David. You knew she was present for his trial and had read the articles she had written about him. You knew there was a history there. Frank hadn’t really detailed exactly what that history was or meant. He had simply said she was someone he cared about and left it at that. You never asked about it again.

Mahoney seemed to follow Frank’s gaze over towards where you were leaning against the kitchen counter. His eyes lingered on Frank for a moment before he faced Madani and cleared his throat.

“I think the point you’re missing Madani is he has no trouble doing that when it comes to certain people. If that person isn’t in danger, he’s not gonna roll up guns blazing to a suicide mission.”

“Since when the hell are you on his side, Mahoney? You need this done as badly as I do.”

“I do. But we need to be smart about this, and you need to consider all the stakes that are involved, and who those consequences fall on.”

Brett motioned his head subtly in your direction, and for the first time since shoving her way in completely blinded by anger, Dinah noticed your presence. Her wrath seemed to dissipate a little as she glanced between you and Frank, detecting the somewhat pleading look in his eyes. Halting her pacing, she finally took a seat at the dining table and let out a deep exhale of understanding.

“Alright. How do we do this Frank? What’s the smartest way, what do you need from me?”

“Patience, for starters.”

“Now Frank, you know better than to taunt an angry woman that’s got a full clip without a bulletproof vest.”

Walking by to place a kiss to Frank’s head, you shot Dinah a wink and lightly squeezed Brett’s shoulder on your way back into the bedroom. Dinah looked over at Frank in amusement, a smirk completely taking over her mouth as she brought the steaming mug to her lips.

“For the record, I like her better than you.”

“Glad we’re all in agreement then. Cause I like her a hell of a lot more than you two put together.”

After Madani and Mahoney had left, Frank made his way into your shared bedroom and leaned against the doorway to the bathroom as he watched you get ready for work.

“Shoulda warned you movin’ in with me meant house calls from Madani at ungodly hours.”

“Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.”

The smile you sent Frank’s reflection in the mirror nearly made him weak in the goddamn knees.

“Can I take ya to breakfast?”

“I’d love that. I’m almost done.”

Frank watched you silently for a moment, mesmerized by all your little movements. He liked to watch you when you weren’t paying attention, when you thought no one was paying attention to you. He loved the way your nose crinkled adorably when you got embarrassed or confused, the cute little pout that formed on your lips when something wasn’t right or working, how you were always humming something when you were lost in thought. Frank pulled you into his embrace the second you turned around, brushing his thumb lightly over your cheekbone.

“I really am sorry ‘bout this mornin’. Not just, ya’know, Madani flyin’ in like a bat outta hell. What she said ‘bout Karen-”

“I know, Frank. It’s okay. She’s right, though. If Karen was involved, you wouldn’t hesitate.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate for you either.”

A shy smile took over your lips as you leaned into Frank’s embrace, gently wrapping your small hand around his wrist.

“I know that, Frank. I know you’d do it for me too. And Curtis, and David, and even Dinah and Brett. And before you even start your protest, don’t bother. Because you’ve already done it for everyone on the list. Some of them, several times.”

“Not you, though. And I hope to God it never comes to that. But if it ever does-”

“You’re wrong.”

Frank cocked his head slightly to the side, peering down at you with brows knit in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re wrong. You have done it for me.”

“When?”

“Everyday. You save me, every single day, and you have since that day in the bookstore.”

Frank stared down at you incredulously, shaking his head slowly to himself. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around you and leaned in to press his forehead against yours.

“You keep talkin’ like that, I’m gonna take you to bed instead of breakfast.”

“Why not both?”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When Frank had asked you what you wanted for your birthday, your answer was simple. Him. Frank argued that you had to let him get you a birthday present after you had gone all out for him, so you compromised. Time. That’s all you asked for. Just you and him, no distractions, no responsibilities, no work, no interruptions. Frank hadn’t hardly been home the past two months, and you had been putting in a few late nights of your own even when he was. Every night he was away from you made Frank wonder how the hell he ever managed to go eighteen months without Maria.

Two weeks before your birthday, Frank told you to request a few days off and pack a bag. He wouldn’t tell you why, just said to pack comfortably for cold weather. You didn’t even bother trying to get a hint out of him. The man had been trained for torture, he wasn’t going to give into your incessant childish begging when he was so committed to his surprise. He was still tight lipped as you both loaded his truck down and took off on a three hour drive upstate. When he turned off onto a winding dirt road and caught your puzzled expression, he couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t until the cozy cabin finally came into view that a gasp left your mouth. Your head snapped towards him with wide eyes as he put the truck in park.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“You got me a cabin?”

Frank threw his head back and howled with laughter, reaching over to grab onto your thigh and squeeze gently as an ear splitting grin covered his mouth.

“Well hell, if I had known you wanted one, I woulda got you one. But since someone didn’t wanna give me any ideas, I had to get creative. This is all ours for the next few days. Ain’t no one around for miles. And the best part? No cell service.”

Even though there were tears in your eyes from how thoughtful Frank’s gift to you was, it didn’t stop you from climbing onto his lap and clawing at his belt with eager hands. Frank didn’t even pretend to put up a fight. It was your birthday after all. He’d give you whatever you wanted. And if you wanted to ride him in the front seat of his truck, well then it felt like his birthday too. You and Frank nearly christened every spot in that cabin in less than 24 hours. Frank fucked you in the large plush bed in the bedroom, the hot tub, on the kitchen counter, in front of the fireplace, on the dining table, in the shower, the couch, and even against a tree when you went for a walk together in the woods.

For three days it was absolute uninterrupted bliss, and Frank had never been happier. You both took turns cooking meals, even though Frank was adamant about doing most of the cooking since it was your birthday trip. He dazzled you with his baking skills when he handcrafted a red velvet birthday cake with cream cheese frosting; your favorite. You both found a beautiful trail that had a breathtaking view of a lake and had a picnic there. Frank slow danced with you around the living room with only the glow of the fire and moon to illuminate the space. It felt like a dream neither of you wanted to wake up from.

After spending nearly an hour with his head buried between your thighs and another with his hips pressed firmly to yours, Frank held you delicately against his chest. His thick fingers ran loosely throughout your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp how he knew you liked. He watched as your fingertips carefully traced scars and indentations along his chest and abdomen. Sometimes when you laid like this, you asked him the story behind each one. But tonight, you were unusually quiet. Frank lightly nudged his nose against your temple.

“What’s goin’ on up there?”

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Your voice was small and fragile, like a shattered piece of glass that hadn’t yet fallen to pieces. Frank had almost forgotten that tonight was your last night here. He had been trying to make you forget too.

“Me neither, sweetheart. We can always come back.”

You hummed quietly in response, tracing invisible words above Frank’s heart that he couldn’t quite decipher. He placed his index finger under your jaw and lightly grasped your chin to tilt your head back.

“That it?”

Frank could see the hesitation in the depths of your eyes. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, something you always did when you were contemplating your words carefully. For a second, Frank was worried he might have done something wrong, or not done something he should have.

“We can go somewhere nice for you birthday when we get back if you wanted-”

“No, no Frank that’s not it. This…this has been the most perfect and special birthday I’ve ever had. It’s the first time I’ve even enjoyed celebrating my birthday since I was a kid. I guess I’m just…feeling selfish.”

“Selfish? You’re allowed to be selfish on your birthday, darlin’. That’s kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“My birthday was three days ago.”

“So?”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of your mouth as you shook your head slowly. Frank watched as your gaze dropped back down to where your fingertips were still writing invisible words.

“C’mon baby, talk to me. Feelin’ selfish how?”

“I just…don’t wanna go home. I like this. I like having you all to myself. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…just…it’s nice.”

“My what?”

Frank dipped his head slightly to meet your gaze, but he couldn’t catch it. Whatever you wanted to say, you were guarding it.

“Your…main priority.”

Priority wasn’t the word you wanted to use. Frank knew it as soon as the words left your mouth. You couldn’t lie to save your life. He knew there was something else you wanted to say, but he couldn’t figure out what. Neither of you kept things from the other, and he couldn’t understand why you were doing that right now. He gently grabbed your neck and held your face with his fingers, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. They were shimmering with a translucent layer of sadness, but he couldn’t tell what from.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you, Frank.”

“You are my main priority, baby. I want you to know that. I know I been gone a lot lately, and I’m sorry ‘bout that, but you do come first. You need me, you call me. I don’t care where I am, what time it is, or how small you may think it is. You need me, you call me, and I’m there. No questions asked. You got that?”

Nodding slowly, you closed your eyes for a moment as a tear slipped past your lashes. Frank brought his thumb up to catch it before it could descend down your cheek, holding you even tighter against his chest.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. S’alright, honey.”

“I just miss you when you’re gone, Frank. So much. I worry about you all the time. I get scared that everytime I hear your voice on the phone might be the last…or what I would do if you didn’t come home-”

“Hey, look at me. I will always come home to you. I promise. You will always have me. Always. I miss you the second I step out that door, and all I can think about when I’m away is comin’ home to you. Nothin’ could ever keep me away from my favorite girl.”

Frank pressed his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss, lingering there for a moment as he held you tightly in his arms. He made another promise that night that once every couple of months you two would get away for a while. No distractions, no responsibilities, no interruptions. He made love to you two more times so that the only thing you could feel was him. He kept himself inside you as he wrapped you up in his body completely, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep. When the morning came, he woke you up with his head nestled between your thighs, chasing any lingering feelings of sadness away with his tongue until there was nothing left but pure gratification.

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

Things had been different after you and Frank got back from your trip. They were so subtle, he wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t going crazy and imagining things that weren’t there. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but something was different. Something was off. He could feel it.

There was a dissonance between the two of you. Frank noticed you had become a little distant, withdrawing into yourself at times. Of course he had no room to speak, he had been guilty of doing that on several occasions. He figured you might have been going through something and needed your space until you were ready to talk about it. So, he did what you always did with him. He was patient, provided reassurance of his presence both verbally and with gestures, and gave you the space you needed.

But then a month went by, and you still hadn’t said anything. He tried to be as patient as you had been with him, but it was never his virtue. It was driving him absolutely mad trying to put together this puzzle when all the pieces were locked away in your mind. Anyone else observing you wouldn’t be able to tell you were acting differently, not even the ones that knew you. But no one knew you quite like Frank. He noticed everything about you. He saw the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes like they normally did. He heard the detachment in your voice when he asked you about your day. He hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch in a month. Every time he managed to make it home at a decent hour, you weren’t there. You had been spending more nights at work, making up excuses about a big project with a strict deadline. But Frank knew better. He knew you were avoiding him. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He replayed the entire trip in his head over and over again, searching for anything out of place that would explain your behavior. The only thing Frank could think of was your last night at the cabin when you had gotten emotional about leaving. Frank analyzed every piece of that conversation. He thought he had done everything right that night by telling you everything that you needed to hear to put your mind at ease, and making a promise to dedicate more time together. But if more time together was what you wanted, why were you pulling away?

Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t be as patient as you. Something was wrong, and the uncertainty was driving him fucking crazy. He managed to easily find a way into your building, a concern he would discuss with you at a later time, and was barreling towards your office. The space was dark and quiet, seemingly empty, but he could see the light on through your window. Frank shut and locked the door as soon as he stepped through, barricading the door with his large frame. There was nowhere for you to run. The only way out was through him, and he wasn’t letting you leave until you talked to him.

“Frank? What are you-”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what. You’ve been off since we got home. Now look…I’ve tried, alright? I’ve tried to give you space until you were ready to talk about whatever the hell this is, and ya’know be patient until you were ready to come to me…but you’re not comin’ to me. You’re hidin’ from me. Why?”

“I’m not hiding from you, Frank.”

“Yes you are. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve been spendin’ almost every night here instead of at home with me. That’s why you keep tryin’ to lie when we both know you’re fuckin’ terrible at it. Ya’know I thought…I thought we didn’t do that. I thought we agreed ya’know, no secrets. No lies. So…what is it?”

The silence in the room was deafening and nearly drowned out the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. For the first time in a very long time, Frank was fucking terrified. He had no idea what was going on with you. He had no idea what he had done wrong. He didn’t like the way your face twisted up in remorse and confusion. He hated that you wouldn’t look at him. He would’ve rather faced down the barrel of a loaded gun than whatever the fuck was about to happen right now. Frank took a step forward, his eyes darting back and forth fervently as he searched your face for something, anything. His voice was gentle and laced with pure vulnerability as he pleaded with you.

“Please just…please just talk to me. Please, sweetheart. Just…tell me what’s goin’ on. I can’t…I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what the problem is. Please tell me.”

Frank watched closely as you rubbed your palms slowly down your face, looking anywhere but at him as you glanced around your office. You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, and Frank’s fingers twitched at his sides in anxious anticipation.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Frank.”

Your words caught him completely off guard, and he blinked a few times as confusion settled between his dark brows.

“What?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you finally lifted your head to meet Frank’s unrelenting gaze. You gave a light shrug of your shoulders as a tiny melancholic smile covered your lips.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Frank I…I know you love me. I know that, okay. But…is that it?”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly as he stared down at you. He could see that you were waiting for an answer, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell the question was.

“I’m not followin’, sweetheart. Is what it?”

“Is that all there is? I mean am I…am I it? Because you are Frank. You are it for me. I know what I want from you, but I have no idea if you want it too, or if you even want it at all. I don’t know what you want.”

“Sweetheart, what I want is you. Is that not clear?”

“Yeah but for how long, Frank?”

Frank stared at you silently, feeling completely lost within your riddle. He was trying his hardest to follow along, but a piece of the puzzle was still missing. You were still holding something back. He wasn’t sure if it was the same piece you withheld that last night at the cabin, but it was preventing him from being able to see the whole picture.

“What do you want?”

“Frank-”

“Say it. Whatever it is you been too scared to say, just say it. I’m not gonna understand until you tell me, so just get it off your chest.”

Hesitation flashed across your face, and he could practically feel the uneasiness radiating off of you. Frank watched as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth and took a few steps forward to gently pry it away with his thumb. He reached out to take one of your small hands in his, brushing his thumb lightly over the back of your knuckles before giving it a delicate reassuring squeeze.

“Talk to me.”

“I want a future, Frank. I want a future with you. I want everything with you.”

“You don’t think I want that?”

“I don’t know, Frank. You’ve never mentioned it, we’ve never talked about it. I don’t know what you really want. I know that I love you, and I want to be with you. Always. You’re it for me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want a life together. I want…a family. Our family. I just…I don’t know if you want any of those things.”

It was your turn to be nervous as Frank stared down at you silently while processing your words. Once everything clicked in his brain, he felt like a fucking idiot. He had told everyone that he wanted a future with you. Everyone except you, apparently. He hadn’t told you that whenever he thought about his future, you were at the center of it. He hadn’t told you that you were it for him too. He hadn’t explained why he never mentioned marriage or starting a family to you. Hell, he hadn’t even stopped to consider if those were things you even wanted. Not once in the past year and a half had he bothered to ask.

You had tried to subtly give him a hint that last night at the cabin. Frank had a sudden epiphany as your words echoed in his head. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…main priority. He knew you hadn’t meant to say priority, but it wasn’t until now that he realized what you were actually trying to say.

Your wife. Your partner. Your future.

“A family?”

“Yes, Frank. A family.”

The sincerity in your voice absolved any remaining apprehensions Frank had about making it all official. He could do this again. He could do it with you. He knew you didn’t need a piece of paper either to know how much he loved you, but if it made you feel more secure in your future together, he would do it. He would do anything for you. Frank shoved everything off of your desk quickly before lifting you by your hips to set you up on top of it. His hands were in the middle of pushing your dress up your thighs when you placed your palms against his chest and laughed nervously.

“Frank, what are you doing?”

“You want a baby sweetheart? I’ll give you one. Right now.”

“Frank-”

“You just tell me what kind of ring you want. You got it.”

“Frank I…I don’t…I didn’t mean right now. We don’t have to figure this all out right now. I just…wanted to know what you wanted. If…if you wanted a future with me too. I mean…I want you to want this too. I don’t want you to do it just because it’s what I want. If you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and leaned in to kiss your lips softly. He sighed in content against your mouth, nuzzling his nose against your own. He pressed his forehead to yours as he started deeply down into your eyes.

“I love you. I love wakin’ up next to you. I love that you’re the last thing I see when I close my eyes at night. I wanna spend the rest of my life lovin’ you. Ya’know after Maria…I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to do any of that again. I wasn’t sure if I could. But if that’s what you want, then I want it too. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

“Really?”

“When you’re ready, I’m ready. I promise.”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

You and Frank were not a traditional couple. You never had been. There was nothing traditional or normal about your relationship, but neither one of you seemed to really care. Everything between the two of you had always happened exactly as it was supposed to. You did everything on your own terms, at your own pace, and only followed your own expectations that you two had established together. Now that you were both on the same page about your future together, you simply decided to let the rest of the pieces come together when it was their time.

Over the course of the next year, you and Frank only fell harder and more deeply in love. True to his word, Frank made sure that you two had some little getaway planned every three months. The walls of your home were filled with little snippets of your favorite memories from your trips together. There were even a few that Curt and David along with the rest of the Lieberman family had joined you on. You started your own holiday traditions of spending them with yours and Frank’s chosen family, and David’s kids were absolutely thrilled when you got Frank a puppy for Christmas last year. Frank had even let them have the honor of naming him which is how you ended up with an adorable big baby of a pit bull named Zeo, a combination of their names.

Life was so full for the two of you, it never felt like anything was missing. There were only more things you wanted to add to it. Frank eventually found himself at complete peace with the idea of becoming a husband and father again. There was no pressure of expectations or rush to catch up with anyone else. He had simply healed enough to make that choice of his own accord. Being your husband was what Frank genuinely wanted for himself. He wanted to be a complete unit with you; a team. For your three year anniversary, Frank took you back to that same cabin and proposed to you in front of the golden glow of the fireplace. A month later, you had a small intimate little ceremony at that beautiful spot by the lake you had found during your first exploration.

There was nothing traditional about it, but it was perfect. David got ordained and performed the ceremony, asking you three times if you were absolutely sure you wanted to be legally bound to Frank forever. Curt and Sarah stood by yours and Frank’s sides. Zach and Leo were the ring bearer and flower girl. You and Frank had even gotten Zeo a little bowtie for his collar. The “reception” took place at yours and Frank’s favorite diner in town. Instead of wedding cake, you two shoved apple pie in each other's faces. The celebrations continued at the bar across the street where you toasted with cheap wine and shots of tequila. Your first dance was to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons because it was the best choice on the jukebox. That night you and Frank made love more times than you could count.

A few months later when you both decided you were ready to start a family, you left it all up to chance. You weren’t actively trying, but you also weren’t using protection. Whenever it was meant to happen, it would. Seven months later you found out you were pregnant. The grin on Frank’s face when you told him the news was composed of pure happiness. Neither of you wanted to know what you were having until the baby was born, but you picked out names that you both absolutely loved either way. Frank was present for every big and little moment of your pregnancy. All the appointments, hearing the heartbeat for the first time, feeling the first little movements and kicks. All those little things and moments he had missed both times Maria was pregnant he was now getting to experience fully with you. He was there for every second of your labor, letting you grip his hand as tightly as you needed, getting you anything you wanted, showering you in praise and encouragement when it was time to push.

Frank sobbed proudly when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. He was in complete awe of the beautiful creature the two of you had created together in pure love. He still questioned relentlessly what he had done so right to deserve this life; this second chance. There were still so many moments he doubted whether he was deserving of happiness. But here he was, holding his happiness in his arms. His second chance. His future. Frank wanted to stay in this moment forever.

#frank castle #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #curtis hoyle #david lieberman #sarah lieberman #karen page #dinah madani #brett mahoney

498 notes · View notes

casablancarossa · 4 months

Text

Lipstick Smudge << a [fluffy] taemin x reader scenario>>

For the anon who asked:

hii ^^ could you possibly write something for taemin where you guys are doing that chapstick challenge where you put on different chapsticks and he has to kiss you to guess what flavor it is. Or even that one tiktok trend where you smudge your lipstick and then he goes to fix it and the camera turns and he has lipstick marks all over his face. 🙏🙏

Reposting this because it's a shame it didnt pop up in tags.

You re-align your camera, trying to get a perfect view of the corner of your room. It was the only place that wouldn't have any reflection of the rest of your space. It wasn't that the 70% was dirty or unseemly for an influencer, but most of the time it was to hide the man with the shit eating grin, trying to distract you from creating any good content while he was around.

"Jagiya, I feel offended, you really are trying to hide me huh?" Taemin whines as he catched his hoodie with his face.

It has been 20 minutes since you tried to make sure that you were trying to hide items that might relate to him. Chucking items left and right, out of sight.

"You know, none of my stuff will link back to me...", he lets out a sigh, pouting as he sits on the other side of the phone setup, fiddling with various cases of lipbalms, with the labels frayed and torn off. "Beside you want to live stream don't you?"

It's no secret to those who follow you, that you have a boyfriend and make the excuse that he was the one who isn't interested in being in front of the camera and would rather support you from the side, hidden. Taemin smiled as he picks up of the chapstick and quickly swips the bullet against his lips, before making kissing noises, his lips puckered and pointed at you with that stupid smile on his face. "You're an idiot if you just want a kiss, an plus that's for the challenge!", you cried out halfheartedly as you slide into the seat with a spare phone in hand, ready to post a story that you were about to go on live soon.

For weeks, Taemin was very into the idea of at least making sure that your viewers didn't think you were full of shit by saying you had a boyfriend and just didn't want to show him off. Haters often comment that you were lying and you were completely 'motae solo'. Soon it went viral that you were single and delusional when in fact you had purposedly shoved Taemin into the bushes during one of your walks when Dispactch caught you walking at night by the Han River.

You re-adjust yourself in your seat, counting the numbers of people who had viewed your story before turning on your Insta live and sat back, waiting for your viewers to come in. Your fortnight lives was something that you enjoyed doing, whether it was cooking challenges or just late night pillow talk, you were appreciative of the fans who had swarmed in from TikTok, to join you in your lives.

Soon, you were greeting your followers, conversing with them through the comments they have left and began to introduce the fact that your partner was behind the camera, really wanting to do the chapstick challenge with you. Taemin had caused a ruckus by trying to slide one your indoor clothes line into view, with a perfectly draped sheet on it, so he could hide behind it.

Meanwhile, the comments were in a frenzy, saying how they had never heard you sound so relaxed and giggly before. Some comments were even teasing you to pull down the sheets so they could see your boyfriend. It came to the time where Taemin had reapplied the lipbalm he kept on hand, yelling at you to taste him already.

At his comment, you snorted and laughed, deeming his words as inappropriate because people might take it the wrong way.

"Yeobo, fine, shut up!" You laughed as you wheeled your chair towards the curtain and dart your head to peck his lips before popping out so the viewers could see you smack your lips, hmm-ing and haa-ing about the flavour.

"Cherry?"

"Oh? Is it? I don't know.." Taemin teased.

"What do you mean?", you asked bewildered, reaching back behind the curtains to grab the component out of his hand and reading the underside of it where you had written the flavour. "Ya. Lee-ssi, you need to read the bottom! The fans will get angry at you!", you laughed in defeat as Taemin lets out a loud giggle, enough for the fans to comment about it. "It was cherry by the way.", you speak to the camera.

You reached forward to grab another two unlabelled chapsticks, throwing one towards the back of the curtain for Taemin to catch as you apply one on yourself, the distinct smell and flavour should be easy for him. "All right, I'm ready.", you grinned before moving your head.

An aggravated groan left your throat as you saw Taemin, sheepishly applying the new flavoured balm on his lips. "Yah..", you put out a struggled smile as you were fully slumped into your seat, one hand on your face, massaging your temples. "It's supposed to be my turn, for you to guess the flavour...", you whined as your eyes catch the over flowing number of laughing emojis dancing across the screen.

"Ah okay okay, I got too excited.", Taemin giggles, attempting to wipe his lips before puckering them again for you to kiss.

You lean in to peck his lips, hoping that he would get the right answer. "Ahh! Lemon!", his answer was too confident for your liking.

You had shifted back closer to the phone, to look at the comments with an unamused look on your face saying "No." to his guess, encouraging to try again. Taemin went suddenly quiet, and through the screen, behind the draped sheets, you could see two arms pop out holding a phone with your livestream playing. "Yah, you look shit, when you are pouting like that.", he laughs, teasing you like always.

"What?! You are such an idiot." you breathed out in defeat as the viewers teased that your boyfriend, is such a troublemaker and seems to get a kick out of annoying you.

"Yes, everyone, he has been the bane of my existence for a year now."

"A year?! I'm hurting..."

"Okay, two??? Three?"

"Probably halfway to three? Way before I joined the army."

"Almost three years, he has been a pain in my head" you smiled towards the camera before looking back at the sheets, now seeing the faint glow of a phone screen behind them.

"Was it orange?" He finally comments out.

"Yes... Your turn.", you let out a sigh before returning to look behind the improv-ed covers to see Taemin, smiling at you. He couldn't resist and held your seat by the armrest and pulled your seat towards him so he could plant a soft kiss on your lips before peppering small pecks around your face. Taemin lets out a small cackle before pushing your seat out, causing it to roll back to your desk.

The seat was still swiveled to face him and as you turned around you made your guess. "Was that strawberry? It tasted like strawberries." you muttered.

As you turn to face the camera, it took a while for you to process that the lighting in the room, made it hard for you to discern that your face was now covered in faint tints of pink kisses. While inspecting your face through the screen, you could see Taemin's hands slowly sliding out from the side with his thumbs up followed by an 'okay' sign followed by a series of breathless laughter. "You look like I just mawled you."

"Wow, y/n eonnie, he must really love you. Wah eonnie, you are so lucky.", you read out the comments out loud, snickering at each one, which made you blush.

"Why does he have such femenine lips?", Taemins voice erupted from behind the sheet. "Reported!"

"Imagine if that isn't her boyfriend... Reported." he continues on.

You placed your arm on the desk, propping your chin up as you converse through the comments asking that you should make a TikTok with him right now. You stated once more, you weren't sure what challenge you could do that wouldn't impede on his privacy and internally, it disheartened you that you couldn't scream to the world that you were in love with someone without saying his name, and Taemin couldn't think of ways to console you. He wasn't afraid to admit he was in a relationship with you and it wasn't the first time you two had been linked together anyway. But you kept rejecting the idea because you assumed, both of you may not have the mental constitution to keep fighting the haters.

A couple minutes went by and you resumed doing the chapstick challenge, commenting there was probably 4 more flavours to try. Each one turned more chaotic as Taemin had caused a scene because he was determined to shift the sheet screen closer so he could steal he muscat grape chapstick from your desk without being seen. Your spare phone lit up from under you with a message from Taemin with a link. You opened it up to see the new lipstick tiktok trend and underneath the link, he messages you once more. 'My love let's do this...'

Before you could even collect your thoughts, Taemin spoke out once more, now speaking towards your viewers. "Everyone! Be patient right now, we'll film something okay?"

"Really??", your eyes widened, unsure how to react.

Taemin stood up, his head was just fortunately cut off from view of the camera. He mouths a few words which you understood as, 'lower the camera so we can walk around comfortably'. You followed through, lowering the camera so it focused more on your desk, but still had enough view to see that you and your boyfriend can now be seen from the waist down and were now walking around and there were indeed two people in the room.

"We still have the stream running up and we are viewing it through another phone, so we can still read comments and respond to everyone" you called out cheerfully, hoping the numbers don't die down.

You quickly grab a dark lipstick and carefully applied while Taemin looked at you with such an endearing stare. "Please god tell me why I was gifted such a beautiful partner.", he gleefully jumps and down, barely controlling his excitement.

"Such a con-man, you are only doing this because you are on camera my love."

Effortlessly, your lips began to retaliate with kisses across Taemin's face, each time, he giggles. Every time he checks his reflection through his phone camera he would voice out his displeasement that some of the kiss marks were uneven and that you should either kiss his face harder, or top up your lipstick.

Y/N-nie, what was the most stupid thing he did?

"Oh...? There was that time he said he could walk across the frozen pond and if he got to the other side, I owed him a new kitten", you started much to Taemin's behest. "Well.. He fell halfway in and was super super grumpy but I got him a grey and white kitten a week later."

Once he was satisfied with his over all look, Taemin takes off the jacket he was wearing, boldly showcasing more of his figure, but in his head, no doubt people wouldn't confuse him with a look-a-like, people would know it was him. Lee Taemin.

How did you two meet?

"We met an an event. She was panicking so hard she skipped greeting me and shook hands with my friend instead." Taemin replied, causing you to smack his chest.

The lipsticks swipes across your lips for the final time to get it even before asking your boyfriend if he was ready to film. He passes a phone to you, with the front camera at the ready. You proceed to start recording with one hand while lipstick in the other, bumping your arm to cause a smudge at your lower lip.

As Taemin's hand reaches up to caress your cheek, he guides you by the chin to look at him as you pan the camera towards him, his side profile in sight, obviously covered with stamps of your painted lips, looking at you lovingly before casting a devilish grin from the corner of his lips. The camera pulls back slightly, so that both of you were in frame, smiling contently as you look at each other, before facing the camera with a cheeky smile as he pecks your cheeks, leaving another faint tint of the strawberry chapstick.

As far as content making goes, it was perfect and you felt like if you could, you would post it as is, one try, one take. But you saved it as draft after viewing it and placed the phone down. Commenting out loud, there was no need to redo it, it looked perfect enough, Taemin agreed with you before adding that he thinks it would go viral. Your head spins to throw him a frown and pout, objecting to the idea despite the fact he knows, how much you would love the thought of finally no longer keeping things a secret.

Will you be posting it?

Please post it. What did you film? Will it be uploaded soon?

Guys... They were suspiciously quiet... Guys.. It's okay to turn of the livestream now if you want.

You and Taemin giggle at the following comments before he lunges behind the camera as you tilt your phone upwards, letting it re-focus as you waited in front of it as you continue talking to Taemin. It was obvious to anyone who was watching you that you loved your boyfriend so much. Your eyes were so soft and endearing towards him and you looked at him as if it was he first time you saw him and Cupid had his arrow at the ready.

"Hmm, I'm not sure I'll post it, but it's on drafts so you never know", you sang in a sweet teasing tone. "But please ask questions.."

Y/N eonnie's boyfriend. Do you think, eonnie is the one?

"Do you think I'm the one?"

"Everyday.", Taemin replied eliciting causing a reaction on your face that could only be described as look of awe and constant realization how in love with you were.

An hour had somehow passed by and Taemin was more than happy to air out embarrassing stories, habits of yours that he found adorable and personal questions about his likes and dislikes. Everyone was ecstatic to know that he was more keen in being in lives if he was allowed to be more present.

"Everyone.. Once I finally reveal myself, hopefully you keep on supporting y/n and us." Taemin announced.

"Jagiya, you are giving them too much hope, we have to end the stream soon and get to our dinner with your...friends..", the last word caused you to stumble almost saying 'manager', which might imply that your boyfriend was somewhat more of a big-deal.

You were finally addressing your goodbyes reminding your viewers that you will be back on again and on your next post that they should comment what they would like to see next. However your attention was caught by the alarming statements that flooded your screen.

Wait is this real? Eonnie? You are a lucky bitch. How the heck did you catch a guy like him. Gosh you could see it his eyes, this isn't a joke. Y/N and Taemin look good together. Is 'dinner with friends', actually dinner with SHINee?

The last two comments had made you dizzy in your seat. What was going on? Your hands would instinctively fumble around your desk so you could find your phone to check what was going on. If it weren't for Taemin, clearing his throat you wouldn't have looked up at him. There he was leaning over he desk, resting on one hand while the other was waving his phone with the screen pointed out to you.

It had not occurred to you that it was your tiktok account that was logged in on his phone and while you were too distracted trying to read the comments, Taemin had handed his phone to you to film instead and while he was answering questions, he was oddly pre-occupied with his phone. From what you could see between his phone and how your spare phone is going insane with notifications. You quickly open your phone to check. It was official. Taemin had posted the video on your behalf and even linked it in Instgram, tagging his ID.

"I'm not scared to tell the world that I love you. So I posted it.", he smiled.

Taemin smirked as worry had set on your face, lips slightly gaped in shock as Taemin made the first move to publicize your relationship. Like he was the first one to say I love you almost three years ago. Like he was the first one to chase after you after a serious argument. Like he was the first one to do informal introductions with his family.

The woman was too stunned to speak kekekeke. Holy shit, she really didn't expect this. You guuuys, you are too cute. Please don't break each other's heart.

Taemin quickly rushed around the table and knelt down beside your seat, wrapping an arm around you. Your eyes followed his line of movement, never breaking away, so many questions in your head and so much more emotions. Primarily, you were ready to cry.

"Okay, while y/n recovers, see you in two weeks guys!", he waves towards the camera.

Your body slumps down onto the desk, struggling to let out a pained chuckle before sitting up slightly to cover your suddenly flushed face with your hands. You were so embarrassed that you continued to try hide your face with one hand as you waved at the camera.

"You are insane Lee Taemin. You idiot", you giggle, smacking his shoulders playfully in a repeated manner as he leans forward to end the livestream, flashing a playful grin and thumbs up as it cuts and the live has ended.

"Yeah, I'm insane about you, but now we don't have to hide it anymore. Plus, the old Dispatch articles didn't have a lot of hate comments on it...", he calmly stands up and leans on the edge of the desk,

"Yeah.. But your fans are going to rip me apart... I'm not really.. Conventional?"

"We'll figure it out okay?"

"Okay..."

"So... It was viral years ago. But do you think fans will realize you were the girl at the fan event and you struggled to shake hands with me and greeting Onew hyung instead?"

"Yes, because Onew laughed at you because you kept your hands out waiting and just shook your own hands when I didn't go back to you.."

Taemin rolls his eyes, remembering the video in question, reaching forward to pull the seat you were in, closer to him. He rests each hand on an arm rest and looks down at you with, kissing the crown of your head before catching your lips.

"Well now I got you back, and you are mine.."

#taemin x reader #taemin fluff #taemin scenario #taemin shinee #taemin #lee taemin #shinee #shinee x reader #taemin x female reader

65 notes · View notes