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wildestdreamsblog · 6 months

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Latibule Spinoff: Elysian II

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: heheheheheee

Masterlist, Part II of __

Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as you run past him in a hurry with your white coat hanging on your arm and the sound of your heels hitting the floor before completely skidding to a stop. It was already late in the evening and you still had energy to run in the hospital lobby. Seokjin was starting to wonder what you were fed as a child to be this vibrant. Additionally, though, he was now starting to think what he fed Jungkook as a child for him to be as energetic as you.

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I run again?” you asked with a teasing smile on your face, your breaths huffing. You saw the most handsome man walked confidently across the lobby, his hand clutching his briefcase and you knew he was done for the day. That was the moment you ran from the second floor to the ground floor just to annoy your crush. You were too busy today with your patients and papers that you had no time to go to his office and bat your eyelashes at him.

It was entertaining to watch his cheeks and ears reddened whenever he saw you doing that, or whenever you verbally appreciated his beauty. You thought he was embarrassed for you and you found it immensely charming. In fact, flirting with him was the highlight of your day and you always made sure to see him on a daily basis which you noted was difficult.

Sometimes, Kim Seokjin was nowhere to be found for days. You wondered where he went whenever he disappeared. On days after he was gone, he seemed to be more tolerant of your teasing quips. On days after he returned, you could have sworn he looked at you a little bit fondly for a second and then it was gone.

“This is not the first time I saw you, Doctor Y/N,” he replied calmly, his hand in his pocket as he rested his eyes on yours.

“Yes, but I’m running out of pickup lines to use. I still need conduct further research,” you tilted your head to the side as you looked up at the tall man. “When are you even going to ask me out, Doctor Kim?”

“W-what?”

“I mean, you better hurry up or else someone might snatch me up. My mother did say that I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and I am known for being a good girl and believing every word my mother said.”

His brows furrowed at the thought of someone snatching you away from his grasp. But, you weren’t his, right? He had no hold over you, right? So why did that leave a sour taste on his mouth? Why then did he fist his hands so tight he almost felt pain knowing that he had long couldn’t?

You had no idea of the darkness that was clouding his mind and instead, you smiled sweetly at him before waving him goodbye, satisfied that you once again managed to render the smartest man in this hospital speechless and blushing profusely. That was an achievement, you giggled.

But then you turned to look at him again, your hand touching your lips and then dramatically pointing it to him. That was all it took to get him out of the darkness that was caging him once again. The mafia prince didn’t know what to make of the power you had over his darkness, a darkness that he spent a good decade reigning in.

You tapped your knuckles against his office door twice before opening the door. Kim Seokjin was the image of focus as he stared intensely at his laptop, his brows slightly furrowed with his glasses resting on his aristocrat nose. He looked up when he heard the sound of several tupperwares hitting his table.

“Eomeoni said that she courted appa by cooking and bringing him meals everyday in his office,” you started conversationally as you opened the lids. Seokjin was helpless as soon as the aromatic smell reached him that his own stomach decided to betray him and communicate how empty it was.

He coughed to cover his embarrassment, “Your mother courted your father?”

“Yes. Her method was effective, though,” you grinned at him as you placed the chopsticks in front of him. You sat in front of him before starting to eat. “She also did say to follow my dreams, so here I am.”

You met his eyes before winking at him. Seokjin’s face radiated with a warm, pinkish blush which happened to be a true testament to his extremely flustered state that only you could bring out of him. And you staring at him like that was not helping him at all.

His hands shook as his mind went to the default setting: to push you away.

“I have patients coming in…”

You blinked owlishly at him before looking down at your wristwatch. “It’s 5:47 am. Check-ups starts at 7:00 am. We have time.”

“I-I don’t eat.”

The silence was loud as you processed what he just said, and you knew what an ‘I don’t want to spend time with you’ looked like. You nodded your head before standing up. “Okay.”

You stopped yourself from showing your disappointment. You brought your chopsticks down before wordlessly closing the lids on the meals your prepared at an ungodly hour. You returned them all in the paper bag before bowing at him and leaving. He watched it all as you refused to meet his eyes for the first time since you met him.

He groaned when you closed the door, and he was once again left with the silence he was used to. He rested his head on his hands in frustration. What was wrong with him, he thought. He didn’t eat? What was he, a fucking vampire? Yes, he had a clear and fair skin, and yes, he looked like he was not aging. And of course, his beauty was out of this world. But he was just beautiful! What could he do? Should he blame his mother that used to be a top model for his good genes?

Or should he blame his already system that was already beyond repair even before you came into his life?

Kim Seokjin eyes kept on shifting to the door and then back to his screen for a moment. However, it was as though he was powerless from looking back to the door again. The presentation that they deemed to be important was merely a white noise to him, even as the doctors kept on looking at him for approval. They found none as his face remained impassive.

He looked down on his phone, and even your usual good morning was not there and he loathed it. Granted that he never replied, but he still kept the messages. It brought him something akin to warmth in his chest when he received your messages on his phone. Reading your adorable messages was the highlight of his morning. But now, his phone was unusually quiet and you were nowhere to be found. It displaced him. It vexed him. And it confused him. Seokjin glared at the emptiness of your chair with such disgust and irritation that the presenter gulped from the darkness that crossed his face. They all wanted to please him, not only was he in the highest position but he was also the major stockholder of the hospital.

Suffice to say, Kim Seokjin was the most powerful man in the hospital. Unbeknownst to them though, his power spread beyond the corners of the hospital and into the darkness of the world.

“Director Kim?” the presenter he didn’t care to remember the name called for his attention. Leisurely, he brought his eyes from his phone to the sweating man. He didn’t even care to hide the fact that he was more focused on the phone than the presentation. He read all about it and he was not pleased one bit.

“I believe you graduated at the top of your class, Doctor Choi, am I correct?” he regarded him with an unimpressed look. He waved his hand before the man could even respond. He didn’t need his affirmation. “Did your school have an extremely low population? Did they have-“ he tilted his head to come up with a better word than what he was thinking. “-subpar qualifications? Was bribery involved?”

He met each and everyone’s eyes before standing up slowly in heavy disappointment. “Fix this. Or I’ll personally call all the organizations that awarded this hospital as the best and tell them that they made a terribly, colossal blunder and have them take all the certifications away.”

—-

“Hyuuuuung, why are you even doing here?” Jungkook, their youngest brother, whined as he watched his oldest hyung laid out on his office sofa. He had his phone up, glaring at it as though it personally did him wrong.

“Hanging out with you,” he murmured before throwing his phone away. He pulled his arm on his face and started groaning.

Jungkook wanted to smash his head against his table littered with thousands of documents he needed to go into- which he couldn’t do because his hyung just wouldn’t leave him in peace!

“You’re distracting me!”

“Tough luck. I need to be around someone who’s as lonely as I am.”

“Then go to the others! Why me?! Why not Namjoon hyung?!”

“He’s not lonely. He has his secretary,” Jin softly explained before putting down his arm and turning to look at Jungkook. “Besides, no one is as lonelier as you. Your wife is out there running from you.”

“No, she’s not! She’s just lost! What about Taehyung? Go to him!” he huffed as he was reminded yet again that his wife left him. His brows were now in a pinched as he pouted at his hyung.

Jin waved his suggestion away before closing his eyes. “Tae Tae does not feel any emotion, Kookie. He doesn’t even know he’s lonely because he is a high-functioning pain in the ass psychopath that needs to be put down as soon as pos-“

His slander on Taehyung was cut short as the sound of his phone alerting him of a message from the floor chimed. Jungkook watched his hyung scrambled on the floor to where he threw his phone both in confusion and disgust. He never saw his hyung behaved this way when he was the one who always insisted in proprietary and manners because they as he said, they might be cold-blooded criminals but they were not barbarians.

You were back, he read as the personnel from the Human Resources department he bribed messaged him. Apparently, you were on a week-long leave that required him suffering because you weren’t in his vicinity. Yet again, he had no time to dissect his feelings…

He just needed to see you.

It felt like everything was displaced when you were gone, yet at the same time it was how he was living before you came into his life and painted his world with colors he didn’t know existed. That was the thing, you came and changed his world. He didn’t know how to go back to his colorless world now.

“Okay, bye.”

Jungkook watched dumbfoundedly as his hyung ran out of his office.

Part III

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #kim seokjin fic #mafia bts #kim seokjin yandere #yandere kim seokjin #kim seokjin x y/n #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fic

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hermionewrites · 9 months

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Freudian Slip

summary: a slip of the tongue leads to a meet cute. warnings: none. genre: fluff. a/n: if you saw this before, no you didn’t. i had to delete my account and make a new one. word count: 667

“Do you know where I could find the linguistics lecture halls?” The brunette asked the front desk with a small and slightly awkward smile as the woman sat with pinched brows glared at her for her intrusion. “I’m the new linguistics professor.” She explained but was met with another cool glare.

“Go through the double doors, take three lefts and a right then through those double doors there should be a big sign that says linguistics on it.” She says boredly and the slow clacking of her laptop keys starts up again.

“Thanks.” She drawled out with pursed lips and began to follow the instructions that the receptionist had given her, all while following the yellow arrows on the walls and above the doors. The arrows were painted on the walls above the doorways leading the way to there she was meant to be. Her pace picked up we she tried to get where she needed to be her gaze lowering to her feet taking her third left when suddenly she smacked into someone coming the opposite direction.

“I’m so sorry!” The words quickly stumbled out of her mouth as she grabbed onto the upper arms of the man she had just banged into face first trying to steady herself. In the commotion her glasses has been knocked off of her face and onto the floor. “Here.” The stranger said and handed them to her and she put them back onto her face. Oh, he was handsome, and strong according to the grip she had managed to get on his biceps just moments before. “And you’re forgiven, it was my fault really, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He quickly rushed out and she took a step back getting a full look at the much taller man in front of her. He was wearing a suit, in a deep brown-green colour, the blazer with sewn in elbow patches, his hair wild around his face.

“No it was my fault, I don’t know where I’m going.” She countered with a small laugh and smoothed out her skirt awkwardly. “Where are you headed?” He asked. “The linguistics department, I’m a bit lost.” Looking over his shoulder at the door signs. “Could you show me how to get there?” Rocking on the balls of her feet she awaits his answer.

“Sure!” The mystery man says and walks quickly through the hallways, opening the doors for her on the way there and her giving thanks every time. The two walked in a comfortable silence as she tried to keep up with his exceptionally long legs. Then there they were as the receptionist had mentioned, the double doors with linguistics written above it.

“Thank you so much.” She expressed her gratitude and he turned on his heel and began to walk back the way they came. “Wait!” She shouted after him and walked back towards him. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Dr Spencer Reid.” He replied, “You?” He asked simply. “Dr Y/N Reid.” She felt her face heat up immediately after the mistake. “Reyes! Y/N Reyes.” She corrects and brings her hands up to cover her incredibly flushed face, the dread filling her body. The noise hit her ears next, his laugh. “Don’t look at me!” She said embarrassed and began to walk away quickly hiding her face as he kept laughing at her slip of the tongue and she scrunched her face up. “Stop looking at me!” She laughs.

“Call me.” He shouts down the hallway and registers her confused face. “Your pocket.” He explains and watches her hands dart down to her pocket and pull out a small white card with his name and number on. “Magic.” He says with a wave of his hand in front of his face before she can inquire. “Magicians are skeeves, you know!” She shouted before pushing the lecture hall doors open and letting them swing close before he could reply.

hope you enjoyed! please like <3

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #fluff #meet cute #professor spencer reid #first fic #fanfic #ficlet #oneshot

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lovincherries · 2 years

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Night Out

A/N: i haven’t written anything in probably 3 years, am I coming back just because I watched the new Top Gun? Absolutely. This is so rusty, but I tried. I need a creative outlet 😂😂 also, this is not proof read at all so if it doesn’t make sense that’s why

Summary: you meet Rooster and there’s an immediate connection.

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, and somewhat of a breeding kink.

Your day at work was long, filled with unkind, impatient, and just terrible people. You would’ve cried and gone home if it weren’t for the fact it was a Friday night and you had already agreed to go out with your best friend. Something about putting on makeup and going to a bar after a bad day wasn’t necessarily a joyous process, but you were a people pleaser through and through.

“C’mon Y/N, you look hot. You already know the bar will be filled with all those hot, navy men after work. Time to get some military dick. There’s practically cobwebs in between your legs,” your best friend laughed. She knew you had a thing for a man in a uniform and it had been a long time since you had gotten any.

“I know, I know. I’m coming,” you groaned out. All you wanted to do was lay down in your bed and close your eyes, but that was not happening tonight.

Before you knew it, you were sitting alone at the bar while she was off with some man that she had just met. She had a way of doing that, just finding someone instantly without any trouble. You, on the other hand, sat at the bar, praying you looked mysterious and not like a total loser. You kept ordering drinks, hoping to distract yourself from the growing embarrassment in your stomach. One drink turned to two, two turned to three, and then four turned to six. Now you felt good, a little past tipsy, but not quite drunk. It was then that the alcohol hit your bladder.

It was on the way to the bathroom that you bumped into a very hot, very built man. His drink was thrown back onto his white tank top “I’m so sorry, these dang heels cause me to lose my balance. Or maybe that’s just me, I don’t know. I’m just so sorry, I’ve made you spill your drink. Now I’m rambling, i just need to shut up,” your words spilled out of your mouth before you could even stop them. You finally looked up at his face and it was a wonder your jaw didn’t hit the floor. He was smiling like it was no problem, while you were trying to clean his shirt with a nearby napkin.

“It’s okay darling, accidents happen,” he said with ease, his smirk obvious. He could see it in your eyes that you thought he was the hottest thing on Earth. “What’s your name? Are you here all by yourself?” He asked, praying that the answer would be yes and you didn’t have a boyfriend lingering around the corner.

“Y/N, my names Y/N. Yeah, well no and yes. My friend was here but now I can’t find her, so basically yes,” you rushed out, he was very attractive and you talked a lot when you got nervous. “What about you? What’s your name?” You answered. you wished that you could’ve said something more like ‘take me home and do whatever you want to me’ but you weren’t bold like that.

“My name’s Bradley, but all my friends call me Rooster,” he answered. You knew what that meant, he was a military man. You should’ve seen it coming, the muscles, the confidence, the mustache.

“Nice to meet you Rooster. sorry for spilling that on your shirt, but I’m about to pee myself,” you felt the liquor now, you giggled out your words and he moved over so he was no longer blocking the bathroom door. You relieved yourself and came back out where he was still waiting on you.

“What are you doing tonight Mrs. Y/N?” He asked while sipping the beer he had gotten while you were using the restroom.

“Hmmm, probably about to head home,” you answered, you needed to go home before you got too bad and you couldn’t walk, which you had to do since your friend abandoned you.

“Would you like me to give you a ride?” He asked. Your answer should be no, without a doubt. It was dangerous, he could be some like murderer who was going to chop you up in little pieces.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, with all seriousness. This man was too good to be true, of course his fatal flaw would be something like murder.

“No, no I’m not,” he laughed out, he knew if he didn’t get you home someone else would. Someone else who might want to hurt you.

So, with his answer, you stupidly accepted. Off into his car you went, you gave him your address and then you were on the way. You closed your eyes and before you knew it, you were home.

“Wake up Miss Y/N, we’re here” he lightly shook you awake. As much as he felt guilty about eyeing up a drunk woman, he couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to your chest that was practically popping out of your dress. You were too tired to notice.

“Thank you Mr. Rooster,” you yawned out, reaching for the door handle to get into your house.

“Before you go, put your number in my phone. I would like to see you sober next time, preferably,” he didn’t ask, he told you to put his number in your phone. And you did just that, you would love to see this man again.

Before you knew it, you were going out on a date with Rooster. Then, you were hanging out with each other for a month. You had gotten to know a lot about each other, but he had yet to make a move on you. He told you about his parents, and how much he had struggled as a child. You told him of your past and how you had ended up on the island.

You were beginning to grow worried that he didn’t find you attractive. It wasn’t until one night that you guys had gotten wine drunk after cooking at your apartment that you knew he did.

“You know, you’re very gorgeous Y/N,” Rooster slurred while resting his head on your shoulder. He picked up his head to look you in your eyes.

“You know, you’re very hot Rooster,” you dragged out your words back. His face slowly getting closer to yours, his gaze going back and forth between your lips and eyes.

“I want to kiss you,” he stated with finality.

“Then kiss me,” you retorted. And kiss you he did. His lips felt like a relief to you. They were soft, but his kiss was hard and intense. It was as if his lips were made for yours, like everything in your life hasn’t made sense till this very moment. The kiss became more intense as the seconds went on. One of his large and rough hands went to your face, while the other went to your waist. He seemed unsure of the boundaries, but you wanted him to touch you. You wanted to feel his hands all over you, you didnt want to know where he began and where you ended.

His lips left yours and he started kissing down you neck till he reached the neckline of your shirt, his eyes looked up to you as if he was asking for approval. You nodded your head, knowing what he wanted. What you wanted as well. He lifted your shirt over your head, revealing your chest. His eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. You had been preparing for this moment, you purposefully put on a black bra just in case this would happen. He was admiring your chest and you just wanted him to touch you.

“Come here, please,” your voice came out as a breath, a needy whine. This set a fire in him now, he knew you wanted him. Truly, wanted him. He pulled you back on to the couch, so now he was laying on top of you. This kiss was even more intense, he was now biting your lips and not just holding, but squeezing your boobs. It was all too much, too good, too real. He took a breath and lent down into your ear, “let me see all of you, Y/N. I need to see all of you,” he groaned as his hips pushed into yours. His bulge hitting your sweet spot.

“M’kay,” that was all you had to say as you were taking your bra off. He didn’t even give you a seconds notice before he was taking a nipple into his mouth, playing with it with his tongue. “Ahh,” the sensation went straight in between your legs and he knew it. You could feel the smile on his face as he continued. He sucked on your nipple for about a minute as you were writhing under him, the wetness in your underwear increasing by the second. It was too much, he had to stop.

“Stop,” you breathed out and he did. “Why? Is something wrong? If you don’t want do this anymore it’s okay,” he rushed out. That’s not what you wanted at all. You crashed your lips into his mid sentence, stopping him from rambling on as you once had. In the middle of the kiss you flipped him around so now you were straddling his lap.

Now, you had him right where you wanted him. Kissing down his neck, you slowly got off the couch and onto your knees. You pulled away, looking at him expectantly. He knew what was to come. He tore his shirt off faster than you had ever seen anyone do before. Your hands reached out for his belt, taking it off with nervous fingers. What if you weren’t good at this anymore? What if he didn’t like what you had to offer? That didn’t matter, it couldn’t matter. You were going to do this.

You slowly pulled his pants down, revealing just how large his bulge was in his underwear. All you could manage was “oh my god,” under your breath. This man was already cocky enough, but by god that just amplified it by ten.

“C’mon baby, i know you can take it. Such pretty lips, it would be a shame for them to go to waste,” he said with such arrogance. You were all too distracted to really process what he was saying, too distracted to even feel the floor killing your knees. You were too focused on what was to come. It wasn’t till his hand came to your neck, guiding you down that you realized how transfixed you had been.

“Be a good girl, take it,” he whispered. That right there went straight to the spot between your legs. It caused you to take action. Your hands pulled his boxers down, revealing him in all his glory. And by god was it glorious, no wonder they called him Rooster. He had the cock to match. You kissed the tip, licking on it, sucking it. Taking your time before working your way down, you wanted to watch him squirm, watch him anticipate it.

His hands guided your head down more, pushing his cock all the way to the base of your throat. It stung, but you didn’t mind. It was all for him. “Oh, such a good girl for daddy,” he moaned out. You had no choice, you needed to be his good girl. You started to work for him now, bringing your hands into it. Sucking, licking, jerking him off. You wanted to be the best he ever had.

“Ohhh, so good,” he groaned. His hands pushing your head down even farther on his dick, now you began to choke on it. This caused him to push your head down even farther. you quickened your pace, trying to get him off even faster.

“S-stop,” was all he managed to mutter out, but you couldn’t stop now. You liked seeing him like this, so helpless. This caused you to go even faster. “Stop!” He said with more of a firmness now, “if you want me to fuck you, stop.”

You listened then, retracting your mouth from his dick. You looked him in the eyes as you did so, watching them drift off in the back of his head.

“Did I do a good job daddy?” You asked, with a sweetness that you knew would just get to him.

“The best, but now it’s time for me to put in the work sweet girl,” he responded. This caused you to get even more excited now. He picked you up onto his lap, “but if that’s gonna happen, I think it’s time for your sexy little shorts to go.”

He pulled them off without hesitation, without even asking you. You loved that, you had never ever seen him so demanding before. He reached to feel you through your underwear, “already so soaked and I haven’t even done anything,” he said with a cocky tone.

“You don’t have to, I just want you to fuck me,” you whispered in his ear, “just fuck me lieutenant Bradshaw.” you played on his obsession with power, knowing that would drive him crazy. He picked you up know, walking to your bedroom, throwing you down on your bed. He watched you from the edge of the bed, standing there, staring at your body. He dick was so hard, it looked painful.

“Who knew you would be so naughty, Y/N?” He teased. His hand went to his cock, rubbing it, jerking himself as you laid there helpless.

“Please,” you begged.

“Please? Please what?” He teased once again, still playing with himself. You gave up on him, getting up from your bed and kissing him hard. You pulled him onto the bed too, so now he was laying on top of you.

“Fuck me,” you said sternly, “or I will find someone else who will.”

“No,” was all he said as he took your panties off. He guided the tip of his cock up and down your folds, “you really think I would let someone else fuck you? No, not now. You’re mine Y/N, completely mine.” His tip grazed your hole as he was guiding his cock.

“C-condom?” Was all you could manage.

“No,” he stated, “you’ll have my babies if I want you to. No one will ever fuck you again, you’re mine.” It was as he said this, he found your hole and pushed in. His tip was sucked in by your walls.

“O-oh, fuck. Rooster,” you moaned out. He pushed himself in more, “too much, can’t take it. It’s too big,” you whined out.

“You’ll take it if I want you to take it,” that was his answer and it was final. He lifted you up and his hands guided your face to make you watch him invading you, slowly but surely you did. Although he talked a big game, he was not going to move till you indicated he could. He was so big and it was such a stretch.

“You took me so well, Y/N. Look, it fits perfectly. Feels so good, mmm” he praised you. You slowly squeezed on him, almost to get him moving but he wouldn’t budge until you gave him the go ahead. You slowly started moving your hips, but you were doing all the work while he stayed still. His head in-between your head and shoulder. He was planting kisses.

“Fuck me like you said you would,” you demanded.

“Okay, you’ll get what you want,” he said cockily, “you’re gonna take daddy’s dick so well, huh?” He said while slamming into you. It hurt as much as it felt good, “ohh,” you moaned out. It felt too good, you slowly started to crawl away. Trying to get away from the pleasure and pain.

“No,” he said as he dragged you back, “you wanted it and now you’re gonna take it. Gonna take my cock and cum, gonna fill you up so good,” he said as he pounded into you, it was too much. You couldn’t breathe it felt so good. All you could let out was stuttered breaths as he was pounding into you.

“Brad-Bradley,” you squeaked out.

“Not my name,” was all he said as his hand went to your throat, pulling your face to make eye contact with him. “Say it right, or don’t say it at all.”

“Daddy,” you moaned out. His dick was hitting all the right spots and one hand was circling your clit. You were on the brink of ecstasy as he was pounding into you, you began squeezing the life out of him. “I want you to cum in me, fill me up. I want everyone to know who I belong to,” you whispered in his ear.

He flipped you over. now your face was pressed into the bed, ass in the air, and his dick was so, so deep. Before you didn’t think he could go any further in you, but now it felt as if he were in your stomach.

You were letting out endless moans as he pounded into you, smacking your ass as he did. You could feel the sweat dripping off his face and landing on your back.

“Love seeing you like this darling, so full of me. Never seen somebody move like this before, never seen anything like you.” He praised you, getting you off even more. “You really want this dick, huh? Ass in the air just ready for it.”

“Mhmmm, only ready for you,” you groaned out, not even entirely sure he heard you. His hands left behind prints on your ass, as his mouth left behind marks on your neck.

“I can’t take much more daddy, I’m gonna explode,” you couldn’t even find the right words to describe it. It was so painful, but so good at the same time.

“Will you fill me up? Huh? Make me yours?” You questioned, teased him trying to make him finish faster.

“Yes baby, all mine,” he grunted. He wasn’t listening to you anymore, his eyes were focused on the way your ass jiggled as he pounded into you. You couldn’t even keep yourself up anymore, his hands were holding your hips as your whole body went limp.

It was too good, everything was too good to be true. “I-I’m done, i can’t,” you shouted as you came. You saw stars as he continued to relentlessly thrust into you. something about it was so primal, so real.

As you recovered from your high, he was still going. It was silent, no words. All you could hear was his grunts and your moans, plus the sounds of your bodies colliding. Your body couldn’t take much more and you wanted him to get off before you tapped out. Your body couldn’t do it twice, you would pass out if it did.

“Make yourself a daddy,” was all you had to say before he came in you. And cum in you he did, he released what felt like gallons into you. As he came, he continued to thrust into you, making sure his cum reached the deepest part it could. Even after he finished he stayed inside of you, making sure nothing would go to waste. He flipped you over to where you were laying on his chest and he was below you, still seated inside of you.

His breaths coming out shallow and quick, you felt as though you couldn’t speak after that. After ten minutes of silence and him playing with your hair, all you said was “this is gonna hurt tomorrow.”

“Oh, we’re not done sweetheart. That was just the beginning,” he responded kissing your head. You felt some excitement, but also some fear for your poor vagina tomorrow.

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#top gun #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster smut #maverick smut #Bradley rooster Bradshaw smut #smut

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fangirlingpuggle · 2 years

Text

Dumb LMK fic prompt, where MK gets thrown back in time to post JTTW time(magic also giving him a monkey form because reasons)

He ends up being found by PIF who takes one look at him and is like ‘Are you fucking kidding me that FUCKING SIMIAN KNOCKED UP MACAQUE!’ MK is trying to explain that he is not the Monkey King and Mac’s kid but PIF is not buying it he does look way too much like the two of them in Monkie form and having the Monkey Kings powers...PIF is 110% convinced he is the Monkey Kings kid... he tries explaining that he’s the Monkey Kings successor and was human and is from the future...PIF just thinks he must have hit his head or something and is confused but is undeniably Mac and SWK’s kid.

MK is kinda scared she’s going to kill him but

PIF: THAT ABSOULTE BASTARD NOT ONLY DID HE KILL MY BEST FRIEND

MK:Wait your what?

PIF:AND HIS MATE

MK:...WAIT WHAT?

PIF:BUT HE ALSO KNOCKED HIM UP FIRST! AND NEITHER TOLD ME! UGH I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS

MK: Because it’s not true but sorry what did you say about the Monkey king and Macaque being ma...

PIF:I TOLD LIU ER A MILLION TIMES HE COULD SO MUCH BETTER AND NOW, OH I AM GOING TO MARCH DOWN INTO HELL AND DRAG THAT MORON OUT

MK:No sorry please go back Monkey king and Macaque were what now?

PIF instead of killing him just drags very confused MK back explaining that he’s basically part of the family and she is not letting him go back to his ‘deadbeat simian dumbass’ of a father that she’s getting Mac back finding a way to get DBK out and then they’ll find someone worthy to set his other father up with no matter what he says because clearly his taste is the worst.

MK is just so confused... things get worse when he meets younger Red Son, who instantly falls head over heels for MK and MK is very embarrassed and awkward and somehow ends up letting DBK out because he moves the staff and now he’s freaking out about space time continuum and dealing with PIF matchmaking him and Red Son and everyone thinking he’s Mac and SWK’s kid.

SWK is very very confused by the angry letters he’s getting from PIF calling him deadbeat and threatening to castrate him he feels like he should be worried.

The court of heaven see MK and are like ‘…FUCK WHEN DID SUN WUKONG HAVE A KID?’ and then ‘Wait doesn’t this kid look the six eared…OH FUCK’ the court of heaven freaking out over 1)SWK having a kid who seems to have his powers oh no oh no oh no (The Jade emperor is hyperventilating and hiding under his desk) 2)SWK BEING A PARENT! And 3) SWK’s mate being dead….

It’s kinda decided very quickly that the six eared Macaque was the more rational one….apart from the unpleasantness at the end… that the court of heaven still feel awkward about cause they were meant to send someone to tell the Monkey kings mate about what was going on but sort of ….forgot (times weird and by the time someone figured it out… it was to late) so they pull some strings and Macaque is back alive.

Court of heaven: Hey sorry about all that um… please go make sure your kid doesn’t wage war on heaven…please

Mac:…

Mac:My what now?

Bonus

PIF:Oh you idiot I told you that Simian was the worst oh I’m so glad your back

PIF:…oh my the way your kids engaged to my son

Mac:…I’m sorry my WHAT NOW?

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kisses4suna · 2 years

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suna rintarou is slowly developing a crush on you, and it’s driving him nuts.

it’s actually pathetic. the way he can never talk to you anymore without stuttering once, the way he can’t seem to focus on anything else whenever you’re around him, the way the miya twins easily see how head over heels suna rintarou is, no matter how many times he tries to deny it.

“dude, you kidding me? i hate y/n.” suna says whenever the miya twins tease him about how he always stares at her, suna’s small voice crack at the end of that sentence doesn’t go unnoticed by the twins, in which they both proceed to look at one another, smirking, as their twin telepathy seems to be coming through.

the worst part about his huge “little” crush on you, is how he can’t get you out of his head, it’s physically impossible.

he feels like a teenage girl crushing on someone whenever he writes about you in his notes app, the way he smiles while he types it out, all of his feelings right there.

he feels like he’s on cloud nine whenever he sees you smile with your friends.

his mind only goes to you when he listens to those silly little love songs, wishing you were in his arms as he listens to them.

his smile grows wider the more you two bicker, as annoyed you may be at the moment, he thinks you look the absolute cutest. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like whenever you two would jokingly argue.

the more you crowd his mind, the more lovesick he grows, it’s practically an obsession at this point. the thought of you not liking him back was sickening.

suna rintarou has officially accepted the fact that he has a crush on you. a big, fat, juicy, crush on you. and it’s driving him nuts.

after months of crushing on you, it suddenly hits him, what if you did like him back? and he just would never know, not unless one would come out and confess, and hell, he knows how stubborn you are, you wouldn’t be the first to crack. but the thought never leaves his mind, what if he did have a chance with you? is he wasting time, time he could be spending with you if he just finally confessed?

so with a deep breath, he texts you, “meet me at the park in 10?”

he gets there, 5 minutes before you, he sits on the swings, thinking of what he should say.

5 minutes later and he sees a shadow walking towards him, “hey” you say, you’re voice already making him flustered. good thing it’s night time, if it weren’t then you’d see the blush spread across his cheeks.

“hi.”

“so why’d you want to see me here?”, you ask, taking a seat on the swing next to him.

“well- uh- i-“ he stutters, he regrets asking you to the park, “hm?” you ask, looking straight at him, his yellowish-green eyes seem to be brighter than the stars at this moment.

“y/n, i hate you”

“are you being serious right now suna?” you ask, eyebrows scrunched.

“i hate the way you don’t realize how much i stare at you in the hallways, and the way you make me stay up late, cause all i think about is you. i hate the way you constantly look so effortlessly beautiful, i hate the way i’m addicted to the sound of your voice. i hate the fact that i’m not yours and you aren’t mine, and i hate the way you’re so stupid to realize that how infatuated with you. god, can’t you see? you’re driving me nuts.”

sitting there on the swings, on a cold night, you don’t think the night sky could get any prettier than now. “hey suna?”

“what” he says, embarrassed of his full-on, long confession.

“the moon looks beautiful tonight doesn’t it?” you ask, you’re voice gentle and smooth.

“it does” he says, only looking at you, “it looks absolutely perfect” he whispers. you look back at him, your hand grabbing his.

it’s that look.

the look that drives suna rintarou absolutely nuts for you.

#kisses4suna #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu suna #enemies to lovers suna #suna fluff #suna rintarou #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #suna x y/n #suna x reader #suna rintaro fluff #hq suna #sobs bc im so single #i want a bf like this #why cant he be real

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coffeehighallthetime-blog · 8 months

Text

I am Kind Not Complacent Chpt 2

I am Kind not Complacent chpt 2

{prev},{next}

Heimdall gow x reader

word count: 6 k

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hello and thank you to every single person who has liked, commented, and reblogged my silly little story. I'm so glad I can make a few people smile and share my little fic. if anyone would like me to tag them to make finding the next chapter easier in the future please don't be afraid to ask!

as always, enjoy and have fun reading!

@engardeitsme as always, love bouncing ideas off and getting to share stuff with you before I post it! thank you for helping again! @lunaryasha @nokolla I hope you enjoy Thank you so much for your support and kind words <3

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As YN got closer to the training grounds, Her limbs got ridged and her steps were more sluggish.

“Um, Mal?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think I can do this.” She froze in her tracks, whimpering as Mal tried to move her forward. She sighed and grabbed hold of the girl’s arm. YN leaned against her pulling, digging her heels into the mossy floor. “I-I mean I’ve only fought to get away, I don’t know anything about combat!” she looked up at Mal pleading, Her cheeks going rosy in embarrassment, “A-and I don’t know these people…” Mal huffed, looking back at Thor and Heimdall as they seemed to be waiting for YN, getting more and more annoyed the longer she took to get there.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice really, do you? No come on, I'll introduce you. But you need to act properly. They are the Aesir princes and as someone under Asgard they now rule over you as well, you should know,” Mal tried to encourage the girl while also pressing it was important not to keep the princes waiting, “I’m sure they won’t go hard on you, dear little thing.”

“Oh? Are they nice?” YN asked, a bit hopeful. Mal looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

“Ni-? No, they’re princes. But you’re so small and sweet, so they may lose interest in you. Where did you say you were from again?”

“Vanaheim.”

“...Mmh,” Mal just hummed, now getting s bit nervous herself for the girl.

YN frowned at Mal’s lack of help. She almost felt like she was going to throw up. Meeting new people? who were mean? And she had to spare with them?

“B-but why do I have to? Why now? I-I just got here, d-don’t you think-”

“Ah ah ah, don’t you go doing that negotiating thing. I saw what you did at breakfast. Now let’s hurry on, I rather not keep the Aesir princes waiting.” YN swallowed thickly, looking down at her feet as she allowed Mal to drag her the rest of the way. They stopped at the edge of the sparing area, where the dirt had gone wet and muddy from constant trampling. Thor quickly blocked a hit from young Heimdall and looked over at Mal and the girl.

“Lord Thor, Lord Heimdall,” Mal lowered her head and put her hand on YN’s head to elicit a bow as well. “This is YN, a guest of the All-Father’s. She is to train with you today for an introduction to Aesir's fighting tactics.”

“Took you long enough, come here, I don’t have all day.” Thor didn’t even glance an eye at Mal, his focus purely on YN who gulped as he pointed to a spot at his feet. Heimdall didn’t even spare her a glance as he made his way to the opposite side of the circle across from Thor. YN felt Mal give her one more nudge as she finally moved to stand in front of the thunder god.

“I will take my leave,” Mal stated, before turning back towards the great lodge. YN tightened her fists as she watched Mal retreat. Thor crossed his arms as the girl stood in front, craning her neck up at him. She gulped and dipped into a deep bow. ‘Just introduce yourself, don’t speak too much, and maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe they’ll go easy if I’m polite.’ YN thought she heard a scoff come from behind her at the thought. But that was impossible.

“Hello, my name is YN of Vanaheim and I am the goddess of peace. I was brought here to-” She peeked up at the sound of Thor clicking his tongue in annoyance or boredom, she wasn’t sure. She swallowed thickly, focusing on her feet, “U-um to be of assistance in some way t-to the All-Father?”

Yn gasped at a sudden large hand on her shoulder, roughly twisting her to face the blond boy on the other side of the sparing circle, and nearly tripped into the mud as she was shoved forward.

“Quickly, let’s see where you are. Heimdall, keep her face intact. We don’t want to be scolded by Father, do we?” YN could almost hear the smirk in Thor’s voice and tried not to show her fear as the boy in front of her picked up two swords, the blades dulled for training. He tossed one to the girl and she caught it before it hit the ground, surprised at the weight of it. YN was shocked as the boy seemed to disappear from in front of her and yelped as she was kicked sharply in the back, skidding in the mud but staying on her feet. She whipped around to see Heimdall starting to circle her, smirking with his lips but glaring at her intensely.

“Gods you pathetic. ‘Maybe I’ll go easy if you’re polite’? Ha!” he laughed sarcastically, before sneering and rushing YN. She moved quickly to try and block, their swords straining against each other as he leaned in, overpowering her easily.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Her eyes widened as she processed his words. What would happen if she failed? Would she be shunned again, would she be shut out? Didn’t she want to go home? Why did the thought of isolation suddenly scare her so much?

She thought of how to get out of the stalemate, wanting to parry and jump back to put some distance so she could have more options. But as she moved to do so, Hiemdall was quick to twist her around and shove her back from him. While she stumbled, her back turned, he moved quickly again, grabbing her by a fistful of hair and kneeing her hard in the ribs.

“And thinking we could ever get along? That you’ll ever belong here? Don’t make me laugh. Crawl on your belly like a dog and maybe I’ll tell the All-Father to send you back to your hovel in one piece, Vanir scum.” there was venom in his voice. Even at this young age, godly strength knocked the air out of her and she sputtered, coughing up drops of blood onto his once pristine tunic. He scoffed in disgust and pushed her back. Her mind raced as her vision blurred. She dissected the situation, his movements, reaction time, and words. She caught her breath, feeling him approach again behind her, and whipped around, knocking him in the brow with the hilt of her sword. Heimdall stumbled back in a daze and stared at the girl in disbelief. He wasn’t planning on retaliation, so he had stopped reading her movements.

He watched her as she panted, her face contouring into a snarl as she squared her shoulders and changed her stance from submissive to feral; like a beast trying to get away from a hunter. Desperate, scared, angry.

“That’s a dirty trick,” she growled out, straightening to stare into his eyes, “you have some nerve crawling into spaces you’re not welcome.” he was caught off guard by the statement, shocked that she had found him out so quickly. Thor meanwhile just rolled his eyes on the sidelines, thinking his brother was a fool for talking too much and revealing his hand so easily. Heimdall flushed in embarrassment as he heard Thor’s thoughts prodding into his head and growled, lunging in frustration. YN was able to narrowly dodge and the two circled each other.

“You catch on fast,” Heimdall offered with a sneer.

“You talk too much,” YN bit back, guarding her body just in time as Heimdall attacked again.

Thor noticed the following pattern:

Heimdall would always attack first, getting a few good hits in. he moved fast, and precise; then got cocky and didn’t remember to put space between him and his opponent. He had a bad habit at his young age of underestimating enemies and didn’t use his foresight as fluidly as he should be,(or so Odin thought, and told Thor to push him harder.)

YN was the opposite. She seemed to almost run away, backing away and refusing to keep her eyes off her opponent for as long as possible, and constantly whipping around to try and keep up. She would try to defend herself, taking a slash to the arm, or leg while protecting her core, and when Heimdall got careless she would go in to retaliate. Her movements were hard-hitting and violent, going for jabs hard enough to push Heimdall across the field or knock the air out of his lungs. That said, she was precise in her own way. Thor also noticed that as Heimdall seemed not to care where he hit the girl, aiming for arteries, joints, and soft spots; she only aimed for places that would discombobulate him, throw him off balance, and put space between them. Thor stroked his beard in thought, calling out to Heimdall.

“You need to use your powers, Heimdall,” He scolded, “you underestimate too much, and you need to do so quickly, process the information, and act accordingly.”

“Underestimate?” Heimdall scoffed and dropped his stance to stifle a sarcastic laugh. YN stiffened at the mockery and growled.

“Well, what kind of god who can read minds lets his opponent land hits on him?” She barked, blocking another attack and ducking to elbow him in the side. Heimdall was quick to pary and kicked against the length of her sword, knocking her off balance.

“Maybe you just think yourself too highly. What is a goddess of peace supposed to be able to do in a real fight? You haven’t attacked me once! Goddess of pushovers more like!” He cackled, nearly doubling over. YN dropped her stance, her cheeks searing red in anger and embarrassment.

“Try goddess of logic and tactic, you oaf!” Her heart pounded in her ears as her anger started to rise. She wanted to stand up for herself. She wanted to reason with him. She wanted to rip his tongue out from his teeth and-

“Ooh! Such snark! Not very peaceful of you, Queen Kindness ~”

“I’m warning you!” ‘Be calm. Be calm. Be calm. Don’t let your anger get the best of you. It will only end badly. Just breath.’

“Oh or what? You’ll sign a peace treaty? Bake me a cake? Cry and beg for forgiveness?” Heimdall was almost out of breath from laughter, and YN saw red. Suddenly time stood still as Heimdall’s laughter was cut off by a mound of mud flying into his face. YN watched satisfied as the dirt dripped down his chin and smeared down the front of his tunic.

Thor snorted and threw his head in laughter as he watched Heimdall swipe his hand down his face, his fiery pink eyes searing holes into the girl's face.

“I told you to shut up!” she shouted, She reeled her hand back with another pile of mud. Heimdall dodged, running at her full force and grabbing her face, slamming her down into the mud.

“You repulsive little worm.” he snarled, watching her sink into the ground under his weight. With her face still covered under his palm, she blindly grabbed another fistful and slammed it into the side of his head, knocking him off of her and deafening him in one ear momentarily. Thor was wheezing, doubled over the fence. YN stood slowly, the weight of water and dirt seeped into her clothes and hair dragging her down. She looked down at her grimy hands and shook them once, spraying mud and hitting Heimdall with droplets of muck.

“I don’t bake cake” she stated, smearing mud off her face nonchalantly. “But you’ll find I’m quite good at mud pies,” She smirked as Heimdall shook his head, regaining his senses. The next three minutes were full of pure chaos.

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“ Sire, are you certain that Lord Thor and Lord Heimdall were the best suited for the job of testing the girl’s abilities?” A man with curved horns spoke, walking a foot behind Odin at all times.

“Of course. Heimdall and her are nearly the same age, so it’s a fair fight wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes sir, but Heimdall is young and doesn’t know how to hold back at times. That with his fighting prowess and Thor’s…buffoonery, may cause a bit of disastrous cocktail.” Odin laughed at Mimir’s statement, holding his belly.

“I always appreciate your bluntness, dear friend!” Odin regains his composure with a sigh, still smiling slightly. “That may be true, but I need Heimdall to read the girl’s mind. And because he is progressing so slowly, he still needs to be close and be able to concentrate, making the whole ordeal less than ideal. And Thor? He’s just grounded and I knew he would hate the job of babysitting.” Mimir frowned at this, not sure why Odin was so carefree about having his two most hot-headed sons be with their new guest. “ I fear Tyr or Baldur would go far too easy on the poor creature. I need results quickly to see where she stands. I just hope they haven’t beaten her too badly.”

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Mud flew in every direction, both from wads being thrown at each other, or residual splatter from tackling each other into the ground and wrestling each other like feral little goblins.

“Ugh!! You are such a little weasel!” YN screamed as Heimdall managed to slip behind her, shoving mud down the back of her shirt, but not before she flipped around and tackled him to the ground, shaking his shoulders violently and slamming him into the mud. He growled, his eyes glowing as he flipped her over, pinning her to the ground under his hips and yanking her hair, smearing it with dirt.

“Oh yeah!? Well, you’re nothing but a squawking raven!”

YN reached up, yanking at Hiemdall’s mud-caked hair, pulling so they flipped and rolled across the floor. Heimdall elbowed her in the eye. She yelped and punched him in the nose, pinning him to the ground, and closed the gap between them. Her hands found home around his throat and she didn’t feel herself squeeze, tighter, tighter, tighter. Heimdall gasped for air, kneeing her in her already bruised ribs. She screamed out in pain, her grip loosening and Heimdall threw her off, making her skid into the mud, curling up in pain as her side throbbed.

“Hey, alright, that’s enough,” Thor called, getting closer to the two, still chuckling at the state of his brother. Heimdall heaved, grabbing a sword that lay forgotten in the mud.

“Heimdall, come on, put the sword down,” Thor spoke firmly this time, reaching to grab the sword, Heimdall yanked free of his hold and trudged over, raising the sword above his head to swing down, YN nursed her side and prepared to dodge and tackle him again.

“Heimdall!”

“ What is the meaning of this!?” A voice boomed, making the children both freeze. YN watched as Heimdall’s eyes widened in horror, dropping the sword and stepping away from her immediately, getting down on one knee in the mud and bowing his head, eyes screwed to the ground. Thor followed, not even the hint of a smile on his face anymore. YN finally looked up, seeing Odin approaching with a scowl on his face, followed by a man with curved horns atop his head, his eyes shining with what looked like opals.

Odin turned immediately to Thor, his arms crossed and his foot tapping as he waited impatiently for an answer. Thor straightened, deciding to look at the children instead of his father.

“They were just sparing, All-Father. Nothing but some roughhousing.”

“Roughhousing?” Mimir drawled out as he walked closer to YN. “They’re covered head to toe in filth. And this one’s eye is swollen shut!” He grabbed YN's face to get a good look at the bruising. He tutted and walked over to Heimdall, looking him over as well. Heimdall winced as the man checked his nose. “Oh lovely,” he spoke sarcastically, looking back at Thor and Odin. “his nose is broken!”

Odin sighed, bordering on a groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose. YN couldn’t explain it but despite what only looked like mild frustration, there seemed to be electricity in the air. She was not blind to the way Heimdall seemed to cower under his father’s gaze, and Thor seemed so small all of a sudden in the All-Father’s presence. The way everyone reacted to him unnerved YN and she hated the feeling of tension closing in on everyone.

“Boys, I told you to train her, not maim her. Mimir helps her up, will you?”

Mimir gently grabbed her arm, helping her to stand, and walked her over to Odin’s side.

“ S-sir it was my fault. I-I’m no good at fighting! I fought desperately and my temper got the better of me, I’m deeply truly sorry.” She tried to reason. Heimdall peaked up at her, confused as to why she would bother to take the blame. She didn’t know him or his brother. Didn’t she know what would happen if she spoke out of turn? Heimdall couldn’t help the pang of jealousy he felt at the way his father acted towards the girl. How his voice softened. Was she manipulating him? Heimdall tried reading her mind but he was still dazed from the scuffle the two had had.

Odin cut off the girl’s apologies by holding his hand up, shushing her silently.

“ I won’t hear it. You are a guest and in a strange new land. You were taken from your home and told to fight without any time to understand what was going on. I simply wasn’t thinking. And for that, I am sorry. I was supposed to come here to introduce you and watch you spar, not fight! But I thought to myself, ‘Surely my sons will do well in some friendly competition. I mustn’t worry so much!’ Isn’t that what I said, Mimir?”

“Yes, sir.” Mimir nodded, but YN felt his hand tense against her shoulder. Odin nodded and scowled at Heimdall and Thor, shaking his head with a sigh.

“But I suppose I was wrong to trust them with such a simple task.” YN was caught off guard as she felt Odin’s hand rest on her head.

“Are you alright, child?” YN looked up at him and nodded meekly. He smiled and pushed the girl over towards the two still bowing in the dirt. “Get up.” They stood quickly. Thor looked his father in the eyes, while Heimdall struggled to do the same, his hands squeezed tight at his sides. Odin nudged the girl forward. “I’d like all three of you to apologize to each other.”

At this, the girl immediately bowed, apologizing for letting things get out of hand. Now that her anger had subsided all she felt was anxiety at the tension in the air. YN wanted nothing more than to apologize and hopefully get along with everyone. She turned to Thor and looked up with big round eyes.

“ I apologize, Lord Thor, for not paying better attention to your encouragement and advice, and instead letting my nerves take over. Thank you for taking the time out of your day to teach me.” Thor let out a harumph, looking away. But then sighed and lowered his head in a passive bow.

“Yeah… sorry I didn’t keep a better eye on you both.” Odin scoffed, not satisfied but knowing that was the best he’d get out of Thor. He looked down at Heimdall expectantly, who just seemed to be frozen in place. Yn stuck out her hand as a peace offering.

“I’m deeply sorry, Lord Heimdall. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.” Heimdall tsked at the statement and didn’t move. YN looked him in the eyes and he heard her thoughts.

‘I know you can hear me. Shake my hand, and play along. Unless you want to get in more trouble.’ He clicked his tongue in annoyance but with the nudge of her thought and the searing eyes of his father, he grabbed her hand and shook it.

“No my…lady…” he strained with a smile, his brow twitching “The fault is mine for thinking you could withstand a fight with me. I must remember that you are a woman, and therefore, weak and delicate. Like a baby bird,” She smiled back, squeezing his hand so tight that the tip of her fingers turned white.

‘I’ll show you delicate, you little weasel.’She thought, her brow twitching as she pried her hands away and noticed him flex his hand subtly at his side to subside the aching of her anaconda squeeze.

“There, see? All better now! Mimir, take our guest to the infirmary will you?” Mimir nodded, guiding YN away. When they were out of earshot, Odin’s smile disappeared and he looked at his sons expectantly.

“What have you learned?”

“She is reactive in her fighting.” Thor started his report, “ only attacking after her opponent makes a move. Otherwise, she’s a bit of a chicken shit. Kept running away from Heimdall until the only choice was to fight back.”

“Hn…” Odin looked down at the younger boy. “So she was trying to run away and you still ended up like this? Honestly, Heimdall.”

“B-but father-“

“ I don’t want to hear it.” Heimdall shut his mouth stiffly. Odin repeated his original question, directing all his attention to Heimdall. The boy swallowed thickly and remembered her thoughts and the way they rushed one after the other.

“She…she’s a goddess, and she’s from Vanaheim. She wanted to avoid fighting me, kept trying to find a way to introduce herself, and thought being polite would stop me from hurting her. She kept trying to calm herself down, so I provoked her to see where she would go from there. She’s hotheaded and immature. I don’t think she can be trusted. You should just send her back.” Heimdall fidgeted as he spoke and Odin lost his patience, grabbing the boy’s chin roughly to look up at him.

“Unfortunately that’s not in the cards just yet, son. She’s a child, and a goddess, therefore powerful and unpredictable. We need to keep an eye on how she grows and see if we can use her for the betterment of Asgard before one of our enemies finds her and uses her against us. You understand, don’t you?” Odin squeezed Heimdall’s chin as he posed the question. Heimdall whimpered slightly at the pain of Odin’s bony fingers digging into his skin and just barely was able to nod. Odin abruptly released his son, smiling brightly. “Good. So then, anything that we can use to get her to trust us? Get her to work with us?” Heimdall nodded again, reaching up to rub his sore chin.

“She’s very lonely and pathetic…, which you can use to gain her trust, All-Father. She seems passive in her solutions but she is also quick to anger and frustration so it would be important to keep that in mind during any negotiations…”

Odin looked down at his son, taking in the information. He hummed in satisfaction and nodded.

“ alright. Good. I can work with that.” With that, Odin turned to walk away, paused, and spared Heimdall a glance over his shoulder. “Clean yourself up. You’re filthy.”

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“What’s his problem, anyway? Is everyone in Asgard as… volatile?” YN asked as Mimir prepared an ice pack for her. He snorted and shook his head.

“Heimdall is a special cocktail of issues, lass. Best to keep away from him. He’s a spoiled little prince, and I’m afraid the way he’s going it will only get worse.” He walked over to her with a white cloth. He dipped it in a bowl of warm water, rang it out, and pressed it to the girl’s swollen eye. She hissed, pulling away slightly, but Mimir kept her head gently in place, blotting the wound. “Stay still, I know it stings but I need to get all the dirt and blood off.” YN stayed tense but allowed Mimir to clean the wound. There was silence in the room, save for the slow trickle of water from the towel being run out every once in a while. YN interrupted the quiet.

“Are you allowed to say that about the princes?” She asked meekly, looking up at Mimir with her good eye. He raised a brow, dipping the cloth in the water again and going back to cleaning.

“Are you going to rat me out?” He posed, grabbing the ice he had prepared and holding it up to her face. YN shook her head slightly and smiled as Mimir simply shrugged, “Then I have nothing to worry about. Besides, my loyalties lie with the All-Father, not his band of brats. Like I said, best to just keep away.” YN thought for a moment and shook her head, holding the ice to her face as Mimir walked away to grab some medicine for the cuts on her face.

“That doesn’t seem right. Why should they be able to do whatever they want at the expense of others? Because they’re royalty? They should be held to even higher standards considering the power they have.”

“What we think is right and what will end up happening are two different things. Best to forget the whole thing to save yourself the disappointment.”

“And who taught you that? Was it the All-Father?” Mimir stilled, seeming to be in deep thought. YN pouted, guilty at the tension she had caused.“ I-I’m sorry.” Mimir shook his head, a smile returning to his face.

“It’s alright. It’s just… you’re quite forward for a young goddess in a new place.” YN frowned at that. She wasn’t really sure how she was supposed to be acting. She had spent so long working off instinct, that it may have made her a bit blunt in her words and actions. Mimir let the silence hang as she fidgeted with her ice pack before deciding to elaborate.

“… I’m not from here… Asgard, I mean. Hel, I’m not even from the 9 realms.” He looked back at YN and chuckled as she straightened her posture, her interest peaked. “ I’m a Fae, a Goodfellow. I used to be a fool to a Celtic faerie king.” He got a faraway look in his eye, as he slowed the grinding of herbs. She swung her feet as she waited for him to continue, tilting her head in curiosity. “What’s a Fae? What’s Celtic?” Mimir snorted at this, shaking his head.

“That’s too long a story. The point is that I’m an outsider, like you. And I wasn’t happy where I was so I left… things may seem rough here, but they are better than they were. That’s what I hold onto. This is all new to you, and new is strange. The All-Father told me a bit about your background. Going from complete isolation to being surrounded by people and sparing lessons is a lot, and I apologize for your rushed introduction to Asgard thus far.”

Yn nodded, thinking about her own home. There was nothing for her there, really. And though Heimdall and Thor were less than pleasant and Odin had not yet shown he could be fully trusted, there were already things YN felt would be hard to let go of. The food she was able to eat here, the feeling of a warm bed and a crackling fire, the sound of people moving to and fro in the morning. The sound of people living around her, unbothered.

“ Odin called you Mimir…that means wise one doesn’t it?”

“ yes. I am Mimir, the smartest man alive.” He said proudly. He saw as the girl raised her brow in confusion and chuckled, “I am the ambassador of the gods and the nine realms, I know every corner of the realms, everything that has happened, every language spoken, every moment in time past now.” YN’s eyes widened in awe, to meet someone who claimed to know so much of the world after she had been isolated from it for so long, it made her mind soar. YN pulled the ice from her eye and balled her hands together in anxious excitement.

“ Would you… Would you be able to teach me? Please?!” She pleaded, nearly shaking with excitement. Mimir pretended to think about it, stroking his beard.

“ Oh? I dunno, it’s a lot of information I’d be throwing at you. Could be a bit boring.”

“Yes, that’s what I want! I want to learn about the realms, I want to help build connections, That’s what Odin said I’d be able to do here! Will you please teach me, Mimir?”

The truth was, he was tasked with keeping an eye on the girl and taking her under his wing. Odin wanted him to teach her about the relations of Asgard to the rest of the realms and see if she could aid in Mimir and Tyr’s growth of Agard’s connections. He looked back down at the girl, guilt buried at the back of his mind. She was only here to be used. But then, weren’t they all in some way?

“I suppose I could use an apprentice. But don’t whine when you feel you're being thrown over the deep end.”

“Yes!” she cheered, hopping off the table. She bowed deeply, before looking back up at the man with a hopeful smile. “Thank you, Mr. Mimir. I hope that your teachings allow me to be more useful, so that I may continue to stay here. Maybe my first day was hard, but I’m sure I can find my place here.” She beamed, the pain of her wounds already subsiding thanks to godlike healing and the creams that had been applied. She runs to the exit, hoping to find Mal. She wanted to tell her about her fight with Heimdall and tease her for being too scared to stay and watch.

“Oi, wait, your eye! I need to put this on it!”

“I’ll be fine! I have to go! Thank you again, Mimir!” she gathered her things, a new skip in her step.

“Ah ah ah, at least take it with you.” He grabbed her by the shoulder, handing her a metal tin with the cream he had made with the crushed herbs and some bandages. “The great hall! Tomorrow at 6 am. Do not be late!” he barely got it out before she left, the heavy door slamming behind her.

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The sun had set in Asgard and YN was on her way back to her room from supper with Mal, who had apologized for leaving in a hurry and gave her an extra serving of potatoes as a sorry.

YN yawned with a stretch. The swelling in her eye had gone down, but the bruising was now a deep yellow and purple. Mimir had also found out she had two broken ribs, but with the ointment and bandages he had applied, the girl felt fine and knew they would be fine by morning.

YN was about to retire for the night, walking to her door, when she heard a loud hiss come from across the hall. She quirked a brow at the sound and turned. Dim candlelight flickered from under the door and YN walked over at the subtle sound of a pained groan.

“Hello? Are you ok in there?” She asked with a knock. There was silence for a beat, and she knocked again, “Hello?” The person on the other side clicked their tongue in annoyance and YN could hear the loud screech of a chair dragging across the wooden floor. The door swung open and YN was met face-to-face with Heimdall, scowling with a blood-stained handkerchief over his nose. She tilted her head in confusion.

“What the Hel do you want?” he grumbled, but his voice was slightly nasily because of his broken nose. YN had started to regret ever knocking but quirked a brow and pointed at his handkerchief.

“You’re still bleeding.”

“No! Really?” Heimdall gasped in fain surprise.

“ I didn’t know we lived across the hall from each other.” She spoke again, ignoring his rudeness. Heimdall rolled his eyes and went to slam the door in her face.

“Seriously, just get out.” She held her hand up to stop the door from fully closing. “What the- hey! I said, "Get out!”

“Why didn’t you go to the infirmary?”

“Tsk! Are you serious? I’m not a baby, I don’t need bandages and a cookie for staying still.” YN just rolled her good eye at the statement, pushing further against the door. “Hey!”

“You know we heal too fast for you to leave that alone. Your cartilage is going to grow back crooked.” Heimdall’s eyes widened at that, but he frowned as he looked away.

“That’s not true. You're lying.”

“Why would I lie about your nose growing back crooked?” YN watched him fidget in place. It didn’t take a genius to know that he cared about his vanity. The bright white shirts with gold trim and intricate braids in his hair when she first saw him were enough of a hint. And despite everything, she still wanted to make peace, if not to become friends then to at least have to worry less about being tackled at a moment's notice. Heimdall groaned in defeat, knowing she was right.

“ Alright, fine then. What do you suggest I do, pestering raven?” YN sighed at yet another insulting name and crossed her arms.

“ May I come in?” She asked, annoyance obvious in her voice. Heimdall frowned but opened his door wider. Yn walked in and noticed the room was nearly the same as hers, save for a vanity in the corner of the room with the chair pushed back. She grabbed the back of it, dragged it over to the bed, and sat down, turning to Heimdall and patting the spot on the bed across from her. He shut the door and trudged over, sitting across so that their knees touched.

“Can you move the handkerchief?” Heimdall hesitated but slowly did so, his face showing discomfort as he removed pressure. His nose had in fact already started to bend slightly and YN couldn’t help the concerned hiss she let out. “ I really am sorry…”

“ Whatever. Just fix it.” His bright eyes glared through her.

“ I’ll have to break it again.”

“Like hel you will!”

“OK, if you don’t mind a deep bend at your bridge.”

“… fine.”

“What was that?”

“ I said fine already!”

She just nodded with a smirk, touching at the soft cartilage, and pressing it into place. Heimdall winced and tensed at each prod, his hands squeezed tight on his thighs.

“If you keep scrunching your face, this won’t work.”

“Well, it hurts! You're doing it on purpose.”

“ I am not. Do you want a towel to bite down on?”

“ Shut up- ow! Hey!”

“OK, take a deep breath, This one is gonna be the worst but it should open up both nostrils so you can breathe better.”

“H-how do you even know what you're doing is right?”

“ I’ve been alone for a long time. I’ve always had to heal myself. And I’ve fallen on my face many times, my nose looks pretty good if I do say so myself.” She smirked slightly at him as he only gulped. YN grabbed the bridge of his nose and when he braced himself, she twisted her hand sharply, effectively knocking a piece of cartilage that had grown crooked out of place. Heimdall screamed as blood rushed out his nose. He brought the handkerchief back up to his face.

“Are you crazy?!”

“If I didn’t do that, your nose would have looked like a tree branch. Keep pressure on that for a moment.”She pulled the small tin from her pocket. “Look, Mimir gave me this to apply to my eye and ribs before going to bed. It will help with the pain.” She grabbed some bandages that were tucked in her pocket and ripped them into two strips, rolled them up into tight coils, and dipped the ends into the concoction. “Take that off, please. The bleeding should have stopped, and this will stop the soreness.” YN had started to think the boy’s brows were permanently knitted together in annoyance by this point as he moved the kerchief from his face. YN quickly pushed the wads of bandage up his nose to keep the cartilage from collapsing and to promote healing in the correct direction. That being said, he looked ridiculous and she couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of her mouth. His face went red and he pushed her chair away from him with his boot.

“ Alright, you’re done, right? Get out.” he hopped off the bed, pushing her towards the door.

“W-wait a minute, do you think we could-” she gasped as she was shoved out the door, but twisted and jammed her foot before it could slam. Heimdall let out an exaggerated growl, throwing his head back.

“Gods- now what do you want?” she swallowed thickly and offered a small bow.

“My name is YN, goddess of logic, tactic and peace. I will be staying across the hall from you. I hope we can learn to get along.” She stood back straight and smiled nervously. Heimdall pulled together a sickly sweet grin.

“I am Heimdall, god of foresight, and my time is too precious to be wasted on you. Good night.” And with that, he swung the door wide open before slamming it in the girl's face. YN winced and then sighed in defeat, fidgeting with her hands.

“Good night…” she called softly back through the door. At no response, she turned toward her room to retire for the night. Maybe the next day would be better.

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#heimdall gow #gow odin #gow x you #heimdall x reader #fiction #gow Heimdall #gow thor #gow x reader #god of war x reader #fem! reader #heimdall x you #mute!reader #child! reader #child! heimdall #I am kind not complacent #dance with me like the sun and moon #@engardeitsme #@coffeehighallthetime-blog

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kyufessions · 2 years

Text

JUYEON - GARDENIA

meaning: gardenia’s are symbols of secret love

pairing: non-idol! juyeon x dance rival! g.n. reader

synopsis: being rivals when it came to dance was no secret, unlike your secret rendezvous’

warnings: reader gets physically hurt but nothing serious, otherwise it’s fine!

word count: 2.1k

a/n: why did this actually turn out pretty cute whattheheck ,,, double update today since i missed one two days ago my apologies </3

another day, another dance competition. you were always the top in your dance classes, and it’s been that way for the past six years. you never once slacked off and took dance very seriously, even going to university to become a dance teacher and open your own studio once you had the money and experience to do so. every weekend you attended a dance competition, and every weekend you always won multiple medals or trophies. being number one in dance was always so important to you, so you did all you could to remain at the top. but once lee juyeon came into the picture, you found yourself pushing even harder to remain at number one.

he was your biggest rival when it came to dance. the studio he attended turned out to the down the street from your loft, so on occasion you would stop by and watch him practice to see how you could improve. you figured out he was a threat to you when he placed number one at his very first competition against you, leaving you at number two. that was almost two years ago, and since then you have been working even harder to beat him. whenever he would place first, whether it was against you or someone else, a piece of your pride shattered onto the floor within you. you couldn’t stand lee juyeon, even now that you and him were sort of a thing.

it all started when you snuck into the studio he practiced at, watching him secretly as he practiced for the upcoming competition you both had in a few days. when you shuffled in the distance knocking down a broom stick and it hitting the floor with a loud thud is when he noticed you watching him intently.

he stood there shocked, his arms crossed against his chest and tsk’ing as he shook his head. “this is low, even for you y/n.” he spoke, adding a chuckle at the end of his sentence.

you stood up with confidence, dusting off your pants and clearing your throat. “what? i can’t be curious about my competition?” you stood in your place with confidence, attempting not to crumble in embarrassment in front of the man.

he took two steps towards you, running a tired hand through his wet hair. “you can, but it’s kind of weird. don’t you think?”

you shrugged your shoulders, stuffing your hands in your pockets as you rocked back and forth on the balls of your heel. “not really. i think i deserve to know how you keep getting number one.”

another step forward taken by juyeon. “because i’m a fantastic dancer, that’s why.”

your first step taken forward towards juyeon, the gap starting to close. “doesn’t mean you should steal my number one spot.” you glared at him, your eyes squinting slightly.

another step by the orange-haired man, your bodies practically touching at this point. “your jealousy is showing, babe.”

you hit his arm gently, making sure not to actually hit him hard because you weren’t that type of person. “don’t call me that.” but you secretly wanted him to because even though he was your biggest competitor, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was and the tension you both harbored against one another.

a smirk spread across his face as he pat the top of your head playfully. “why?” his hand trailed down to your cheek, cupping it for a split second before placing his middle and index finger under your chin. his eyes trailed down to your lips and back to your eyes. “you didn’t like it? the sparkle in your eyes beg to differ.”

you swallowed hard, staring into his eyes. you fought the urge to stare at his lips as well in this moment, not wanting to give into your temptation. all you wanted to do was just crash his lips onto yours and taste him, but he was your rival. everyone knew that. it would be weird. but you imagined it would feel so right as well. the silence was deafening as you tried to think of something to say. but your mind was a blank canvas filled with the occasional colors of the urge to kiss your dance rival.

juyeon just stared, eventually removing his fingers from your chin and taking a step back. “guess i was wrong, my apologies.” he broke the silence, starting to turn around but stopped by your sudden grip on his wrist.

you spun him back around, pulling him against you and cupping his face in your hands as you smashed your lips together. should you be doing this? at ten at night, with of all people, lee juyeon? no, you shouldn’t. but you also didn’t care in the slightest. as your lips moved together hungrily, his large hands gripping your waist harshly as he pushed you against the wall, it felt as if the only people in the world were you and him.

since that night, juyeon always come’s to your apartment after his nightly dance practices. he never fails to bring snacks and sometimes dinner when you don’t cook or order in, sometimes even a small gift from one of the stores on his way up to your loft just because it reminded him of you. sometimes it was a stupid little keychain, sometimes a small stuffed animal, it was always random but meant the most to you. after a few months of seeing each other, he started to spend most nights with you as well.

you were surprised when no one caught onto your secret, loving glances at one another at competitions. for some reason, you both didn’t want to come forth with your relationship. it wasn’t that you both didn’t like your relationship, matter of fact it was quite healthy and the best one either of you have been in. but you two being known rivals when it came to dance and suddenly coming forth as partners would definitely make things weird for those around you and you didn’t want that.

“what should we do for our one year?” juyeon asked as he played with your hair, your head in his lap as you both were cuddled into your couch with Spongebob playing on the TV screen.

you looked up at the ceiling in thought for a moment. “we have a competition that day, but we can do something after?”

he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, smiling as he did so. “i know, i meant afterwards my silly little muffin cake.”

you playfully gagged at the stupid nickname he gave you, earning small laughter from the man. “call me that again and there won’t be a one year anniversary.” you joked, looking up to meet his pouting face. you smiled at him, cupping his cheek in your hand and rubbing circles into his skin. “how about we go to this new restaurant in seoul? i heard it’s fancy and has international foods as well.”

he nodded down at you, placing a small kiss on your lips before smothering your face in endless smooches. your giggles filled the room, mumbles of asking him to stop being drowned out by the dramatic kissing sounds he was making. “sounds. perfect.” he said between kisses, a goofy smile on his face.

a week later you both were at the dance competition, excited to finally be able to celebrate your one year with the best partner either of you could ever wish upon. it wasn’t going to be a long day, but a couple hours and you would be out by three in the afternoon. you both watched each other from across the room, making sure not to get caught by those watching you. you watched juyeon when it was his turn to perform, smiling with your eyes and subconsciously clapping as he finished. juyeon looked for you in the crowd as he finished his dance, smiling proudly as he saw you clapping for him. you normally don’t to not draw any suspicion, but you couldn’t help it. you were just so proud of him, and utterly happy to call him your boyfriend.

your friend from the same studio you both attended turned to you, raising a brow. “you’re clapping for him?”

you nodded nonchalantly, standing up to get ready for your performance. “he’s a good dancer, minjee. talent should be able to admire talent. whether he’s my biggest competitor or not.”

you made your way to the back of the stage, waiting for the signal to head to the middle of the stage and begin performing. you watched from behind the curtain as juyeon made his way to his seat, taking deep breaths and waiting for the cue. when you were told it’s your turn up on the stage, you walked out to the middle and got into position. as soon as the music started, the rhythm took over your body and you started moving effortlessly. cheers were heard throughout the area, and you could’ve sworn you saw juyeon smile when you glanced at him for a split second. as it was nearing the end of your performance, you ended up making a wrong turn and twisting your ankle.

you fell to the floor, clutching your ankle as people started to surround you. what you didn’t expect was for juyeon, your biggest rival and secret boyfriend, to come running to your side at lightning speed. you didn’t even have time to react as the pain shot through your body, mumbling curses at yourself for messing up the routine.

“it’s okay, baby. you’ll be fine, don’t worry.” juyeon said aloud, causing some people from around him to look at him oddly. why was he calling you baby? and why was he being so nurturing instead of excited about his possible win? nobody understood his actions except for you two.

juyeon picked you up bridal style, carrying you towards the parking lot and out of the competition. as he carried you towards his car, his coach came towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“if you leave now, you’ll have to forfeit. you know that, right?” his coach asked him in a ‘what the fuck’ tone.

all juyeon did was nod, assuring his coach that taking care of his significant other was more important than possibly taking first place. he turned back around, rushing towards his car and putting you in the back seat to fully lay out your legs. he grabbed the blanket from his trunk, fluffing it under your ankle and making sure you were comfortable.

all you did was stare at him, your love for him overflowing in this very moment. you just smiled at him as he continuously asked if you felt comfortable and okay, leaving him to look up at you with concern.

“what? why're you smiling? you twisted your ankle and you’re smiling?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side. he wasn’t sure why you were smiling when this was serious, to him it was anyway.

“everyone knows now. you know that right?” you replied, placing your hand on top of his.

he let out a huff, taking your hand and placing a small kiss on the back of it. “youre weird.” he let out a small laugh before continuing to speak. “you just twisted your ankle and you’re smiling all happy because everyone knows we’re dating?”

you nodded, grabbing his hand and placing a small kiss on one of his knuckles. “you’re weirder for being so nonchalant about it.”

he rolled his eyes, getting out of the back seat and closing the door to get into the front seat. as he pulled off, he decided to finally reply. “i don’t care if everyone knows anymore. my partner was hurt and i wasn’t going to sit idly by while you were suffering. i love you, and i'd do anything to keep you safe and make sure you’re comfortable.”

you giggled at his statement, reaching forward to ruffle up his hair in the back. “cant believe this is your first time saying ‘i love you’ to me.” juyeon’s eyes widened at the statement and you could see that. you laughed, blowing him a dramatic kiss from the back seat. “i love you too, juyeon. don’t worry.”

instead of going out to dinner for your one year, you both ended up back in his apartment for once. he ended up learning a favorite dish of yours and cooking it for you that night, along with picking up some melona bars for dessert. you both just cuddled the rest of the night, making plans on for when you were able to go get dinner together after your ankle healed well.

#kyufessions tbzflowers #kyufessions tbz #the boyz #the boyz fluff #the boyz series #the boyz scenarios #the boyz juyeon #tbz fluff #tbz juyeon #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios

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asterkiss · 11 months

Note

Hello!

I have a request for a Mabill one shot; Bill and Mabel are watching a cheesy romance movie and a kissing scene comes on. Ofc Mabel is swooning but Bill is gagging. Lots of teasing and fluff ensues and maybe some smooches too ;)

Also, just want to let you know that I think all your fics are really good! They are well written and the plots are always exciting. The way you write the Gravity Falls characters is so fitting!

Thank you!!

I just recently watched 10 Things I Hate About You so have a oneshot about Mabel and Bill watching that. Also, thank you for the kind comments ^^ Glad you like!

-MOVIE NIGHT

'Why do I have to watch this again?'

'Because you lost the bet.'

Bill pressed his lips into a thin line. 'In my defence, no ordinary human should be possible of fitting that many gummy worms in their mouth without asphyxiating.'

‘Thank you!’

‘That wasn’t a compliment, brat!’

Mabel ignored him, plucking out a DVD from the shelf and spinning on her heel to display it towards him with a bright grin. ‘Tah dah!’

The demon remained seated on the large sofa chair, expression one of clear disinterest. When his eyes fell on her movie pick, his expression soured even more.

‘It’s 10 Things I Hate About You,’ Mabel gushed, shoving it into the DVD player before rushing over towards the sofa chair. She shoved him by the arm, forcing him to grumble and shift aside to make room for herself as they sat side by side in the living room of the Shack.

‘I can list ten things I hate,’ Bill replied flatly, folding his arms like a sulking child. ‘This movie is one of them.’

The teenager rolled her eyes, used to his antics by now. ‘You’re not gonna get out of this from being snarky.’ Nope, no way. She’d won the bet fair and square.

‘Meh.’

‘This movie has a young Heath Ledger in it, he’s soooo hot!’

‘I don’t follow the same beauty standards as humans.’

Mabel raised her eyebrows, peeking curiously at him as the movie began. ‘What are your standards, then?’

The demon glanced at her, remaining silent for a moment. And as the silence stretched on under his intense scrutiny, her curiosity began to be eclipsed by self-consciousness. ‘What?’ Was he about to point out a zit on her face or something? She was sure she didn’t have any this morning…

‘Eh, let’s just get this over with.’

‘Okay!’ Mabel settled into her seat, grinning ear to ear as the movie began, enjoying it despite Bill’s sarcastic comments every five minutes.

Time passed by and one of the characters proceeded to pull out a pair of black panties from a drawer

“You don't buy black lingerie unless you want someone to see it!” Bianca the character proclaimed on screen.

‘Guess that’s why yours are flower print,’ Bill remarked dryly out of the blue.

‘Wha-’ Mabel snapped her head around so fast she almost got whiplash, face flushing red in impressive speed. ‘How the hell do you know that!?’

‘You threw them at me once with the rest of your laundry when I drew on your pig with a permanent marker,’ Bill replied. He kept his eyes on the screen but it was hard to miss the smirk on his lips as he wound her up.

Mabel felt embarrassment swelling up inside her as she glared at him. ‘You can’t-!’

‘Shhh, I’m trying to watch the movie,’ he whispered, placing a hand over her mouth.

Ooh, she wanted to hit him so bad. She shoved his arm away from her, folding her arms as she tried to refocus on the movie and reign in her anger. Calm down, Mabel. He was trying to rile you up on purpose so you’d end Movie Night and he could escape. It’s what he wanted.

She would persevere, dammit!

Gradually, her ire waned as the movie proceeded. It was one of her favourite movies after all and she enjoyed it. Bill still kept trying to ruin it though.

‘It’s so sweet how far Patrick goes to win over Kat,’ Mabel sighed blissfully, watching as Heath Ledger serenaded her on screen with a beautiful rendition of ‘I Love You Baby’.

‘Yeah, but only because he’s getting paid to do it.’

‘In the beginning, sure, he comes off as this intimidating and scary guy who is fine getting paid to show fake interest, but then he begins to really fall for her and changes for real. It’s such a romantic story.’

Bill hummed in response but didn’t say anything further. When she cast him a peek, he was staring at the screen with his lips tugged down slightly. Jeez, was he still sulking that he was watching this?

The next scene showed the main pair going on a date and eventually making ou with one another on screen. Mabel swooned happily, clasping her hands together as she watched in delight. She heard Bill making a displeased grunt and she elbowed him in the side. ‘Shut up, this part’s good.’

‘I find no joy in watching strangers make out. Not unless he’s about to pull a spider out of her mouth.’

Mabel’s smile vanished, making a face as she pinned him with a sharp stare. ‘Ew gross, why would you say that? Kissing is nice, it’s a way for you and the person you like to be close and show you like each other! It makes you feel all giddy and happy inside.’

‘Uh huh, and how many people have you kissed?’

She closed her mouth quickly.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘H-Hey, I’ve kissed at least two guys!’

‘Kissing your brother on the cheek doesn’t count.’

‘I wasn’t counting him!’ she cried, face red. ‘I kissed Mermando when I was twelve, and then there was a Spin the Bottle game when we were fifteen…’

‘That’s not really an impressive record.’

‘Oh yeah? How many people have you kissed?’ she shot back, feeling defensive.

Bill blinked. ‘I dunno, a handful?’

‘Wait, what? How? You’re a demon! You just said so yourself that you don’t like kissing!’

‘Sometimes I had to play pretend when possessing someone, or there were a few times it worked to charm a human into doing what I wanted. Heh, that was fun. The manipulation, not the kissing.’

Mabel lowered her eyes, grasping at her head with both hands. ‘Oh God.’ Bill Cipher had a more luscious love life than her, this was appalling. Not even the movie playing on screen could distract her.

‘Seriously, this is what gets you down?’ Bill asked in disbelief.

‘All the girls in my class have kissed loads of boys, or have boyfriends,’ Mabel muttered dejectedly. ‘I tried to make a guy up when they asked me, but that kinda fell apart when I panicked and said his name was Elmo.’

Bill snorted.

Mabel raised her head back up, watching as the characters got ready for prom. ‘Urgh, my prom is in two months and I won’t even have a date. Where’s my Heath Ledger to sweep me off my feet?’

A few seconds later, Bill spoke.

‘I’ll take ya.’

She turned her head to find him watching her. She frowned suspiciously. ‘You will?’

‘Sure, unless you wanna go with your brother?’

Her face screwed up at that. ‘No way.’ A pause. ‘But why you? You’re not planning to like, spike the punch, are you?’

‘Oh, I definitely will. But I’ll keep it restrained to alcohol only, no illegal drugs. Scouts honour.’ He smiled, placing a hand over his chest.

Mabel’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s it? You don’t want anything else?’

‘Ya want me to ask for more?’

‘No. But… it’s weird.’ She straightened up, focusing on his face as she looked for any sign of lying. ‘You don’t do nice things.’ Sure he’d been more laid back as of late compared to his original self, but this was still pretty far out of the ballpark for him.

He blinked. ‘I can be nice.’

‘Why?’

His expression grew annoyed. ‘I already said why.’

‘I want a better answer,’ she insisted, leaning closer.

Bill scowled. ‘You’re being a brat.’

‘You’re being difficult.’

He clenched his jaw, gaze flaring with irritation before something inside him seemed to snap. A second later both his hands grabbed her arms as he leaned down, nose inches from her own as he pinned her beneath his gaze. She tensed up, her earlier gusto faltering in the wake of his abrupt actions.

‘I’m offering to do one nice thing for you because out of all the morons in this hick town, you’re the only one I can slightly tolerate in a way that doesn’t leave me nauseous and wanting to leap off a cliff.’

Mabel blinked. But before she could reply, he tightened his grip on her biceps and spoke on. ‘You’re aggravating, exasperating, and irritating. I find your hobbies ridiculous and your food tastes questionable. I think you’re annoying and loud and troublesome, and yet despite all that I still find myself craving your company and smiles and I hate it.’

He finished off his tirade with a deep breath, eyes drilling into her. ‘Is that a good enough reason?’ he snapped, face flushed red with anger. Or was that embarrassment?

Mabel wanted to reply but wasn’t really sure what to say. Huh. When she continued to stare at him speechless, he eventually growled and released her, turning his head to look away.

Wowzah.

It wasn’t exactly him listing ten things he hated about her, but it was close enough and oh wow her face felt hot. She placed both hands on her cheeks, feeling the heat practically radiating from her face.

‘Soooo,’ she began, also averting her gaze. ‘You like me?’ She wouldn’t have thought that was possible. Sure they’d been hanging out a lot but she’d always thought he hated their time together.

He grunted, not saying anything.

Mabel raised her head, finding him leaning far away in the chair as he looked at the movie with a sudden intensity she doubted came from his interest in the movie. She shuffled closer, noting how his eyebrow twitched as their legs brushed against one another. Peering at him keenly, she could see him growing more and more antsy beneath her burning stare. Eventually, his eyes snapped towards her, their gazes locked.

‘What?’ he asked, gruffly.

Mabel smiled. ‘I also like hanging out with you.’

He frowned, eyes wandering over her face. Neither of them had explicitly said they liked each other but it was good enough.

Eventually, his expression relaxed, and he raised a hand towards her. She tried not to flinch away in nervousness as he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Ooooh, there went the giddy feeling in her chest.

His gaze darkened and he began to move his head towards her and oh god, oh god, was this happening?

Heart swelling inside her chest, her eyes begin to flutter close as he drew nearer, and she prepared for her third ever kiss. (Third time the charm, folks!)

But then, just as their lips were about to meet, they were interrupted.

By a scream.

A piercing loud feminine one that went through the Shack and cut through her ear drums. Both of them flinched, almost knocking heads as Mabel felt her heart leap into her throat. She looked towards the television, eyes widening in horror as she watched a woman getting chainsawed in half as blood and guts splattered across the screen.

Mabel was the one to scream this time.

So much for her third kiss.

‘My bad, I forgot I did that.’

Mabel glared at him, their Movie Night having been brought to an abrupt halt after that. Bill shrugged sheepishly.

‘I saw the movie on the shelf, and thought it would be funny to record over the end with a slasher film. Seemed pretty funny at the time. In my defence, I thought it belonged to your brother since he watches all the cheesy romance films and then lies about it.’

Ooh, she wanted to hit him again.

‘Cm’on, it was a mistake,’ he said, nudging her on the shoulder. ‘No biggie. All done.’

‘You haven’t even apologised!’ she cried.

He stopped at that. ‘Apologise?’

‘Yes!’

‘Okay, fine.’ He smiled. ‘I’m sss…..’ He paused, clearing his throat. ‘I’m sssssss….. sooooooo…. soooooo….’ After several seconds of struggling, he groaned and threw his hands up in exasperation. ‘You know what I’m trying to say, right? That’s good enough.’

‘No, it’s not!’ she snapped, annoyed with him. ‘And I’m not gonna forgive you until you say it.’

When he continued to stand there awkwardly, not saying anything, she groaned and turned to walk away. ‘Forget it.’ She was going to go eat some ice-cream in a tub and hole up in her room by herself.

But then:

‘I’m sorry.’

She stopped. Turning back around, her eyes fell upon Bill as he stood there in the middle of the room looking queasy.

‘You said it,’ she mumbled, surprised.

‘Yeah, first time saying that and genuinely meaning it in a trillion years. So I’m forgiven now, right?’ he asked, folding his arms gruffly.

‘...Yeah, I forgive you,’ she said. ‘But, I’m still mad at you. You have to make it up to me!’

‘How?’

She considered it for a moment. ‘There’s a movie at the cinema that’s out. Another scheesy romance one. I want to go see it. You can take me.’ He wouldn’t be able to mess with the movie then.

Bill blinked. ‘So, like a date?’

Mabel’s heart skipped a beat. Oh. ‘Um… sure, like a date.’

They both stared at one another.

‘Alright, ready to go then?’ he asked.

‘Uh… No, wait, I need to get changed.’ She couldn’t wear old sweats to a date! And make-up, she needed make-up! ‘Gimme twenty minutes!’ she blurted out before quickly rushing away and up the stairs with a flushed face. She needed to ring Candy and Grenda, stat!

Meanwhile, Bill was left behind on his own.

But not for long.

As a tall shadow loomed over him from behind, the demon slowly turned around to come against a familiar face.

‘So, I heard you’re taking Mabel on a date,’ Stanley Pines said, voice slow and calculated.

Bill smiled brightly. ‘Yup! Don’t worry Fez, I’ll have her back by eleven.’ Wink.

The older man’s face darkened, and maybe making a joke wasn’t the right thing to do but he couldn’t resist! A large hand suddenly came down on his shoulder, the man’s grip like that of a grizzly bear.

‘I think you and I should have a chat, hm?’

‘Haha, Shooting Star’s expecting us to leave in twenty minutes. Don’t wanna leave her waiting, she'd get upset!' he replied, smiling back even as he internally began to panic.

‘Oh really?’ Another hand grabbed his other shoulder, leaving no room for escape. ‘No worries then, that’s plenty of time for me to finish up.'

Finish up? Finish up what!?

'Why don’t we go down to the lab, eh?’

Oh boy. If he was late to the date, someone call the cops!

#mabill #i have a few more prompts in my inbox which im getting to!#thanks for sending them in!#drabble

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 1 year

Text

Mr. Binder

Character/Fandom: Steve Binder - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes! by @ch3rries-n-cream - i hope you enjoy babes!!

Prompt: As you're leaving work for the night, you hear someone rummaging around in the control room. In a true stroke of luck, you find yourself totally alone with the man you've been crushing on since day one: Steve Binder. Now's your chance to make a move.

TW: none!

Rating: Pg || Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: back at y'all with some soft steve!! it's a bit shorter than what i've been posting recently, but i hope you enjoy the fluff!

[ request | masterlist | wanna be tagged? ]

🦋 mila

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You stuff your last folder into your tote bag and string the bag over your shoulder. After the long day you’ve had, you’re more than happy to head home for the night. You flick off the light in your office and start down the hall. The heels of your shoes click, echoing with each step. You suddenly think you hear a sound and pause in the hall. Listening closely, you definitely hear someone still here.

You walk quietly toward the sound, albeit away from your exit. As the noise grows louder, you realize that it’s coming from the control room. You stop outside the door and peek your head around the corner. You’re shocked to find none other than Steve Binder, one of the studio’s producers. He also just happens to be the man on whom you have the world’s biggest crush.

You met Steve when you started work at NBC studios in Burbank and have basically had a crush on the man since you first saw him. He’s absolutely gorgeous with striking clear blue eyes and soft sandy hair. He has the most perfectly sculpted face you’ve ever seen. You want nothing more than to kiss his pink plump lips every time you see him.

But you could never do something so bold. Besides, he barely even knows that you exist. You’ve worked closely here and there, passed each other in the hallway. He knows your name and your face. But you only work in the costume department, which means you rarely have any reason to be near him. The office isn’t that large, so you’ve shared passing comments about the weather or lunch or other usual small talk topics. But you’ve never had an actual conversation about something real. You could never be with him. He’s out of your league.

You wait a few minutes, observing him in the control room. He’s on his hands and knees, bent over at the waist with his arms shoved elbows deep into some machine. He’s grumbling and spitting quiet profanities to himself. You know it’s ridiculous to find him attractive at this current moment, but you do. You really do. As you stand, watching him in the eerie silence of the building, you realize that this is the first time you’ve ever been alone together. Just the two of you.

This is your chance, maybe the only chance you’ll get. With a deep sigh, Steve grumbles angrily. Stifling a giggle, you clear your throat and step out into the open.

“Goodnight Mr. Binder,” you say, just loud enough for him to hear.

His head snaps up and you wince as a loud bang accompanies his head hitting the table. He glances over his shoulder with one eye closed in pain. He reaches up to rub the back of his head with his fingers. You hold a hand up to your mouth in embarrassment, glad that the low lighting is hiding you from his sight.

“Oh….Y/N, hi. I didn’t hear you come in,” he says, his hand still massaging the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Binder, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you say, shaking your head.

“No, no that’s okay,” he replies with a soft chuckle.

A semi-awkward silence settles between you as you both wait for the other to continue the conversation. Your heart starts to pound in your chest as you realize that you should say something to fill the void.

“Working late?”

“Attempting to. I guess that’s why you startled me. I was a little too involved in this…mess.”

“Oh?” you say, pretending like you hadn’t noticed. “What exactly are you attempting to do, Mr. Binder?”

“Oh, just trying to fix this stupid sound machine,” he responds, laughing nervously.

“Maybe I can help.”

You mentally scold yourself as you start walking forward. You know damn well that you haven't the slightest idea what the hell you're even looking at. But the opportunity to spend time alone with Steve is too good to turn down.

So you walk anyway, all the way into the room where you crouch down next to him. Clearing your throat, you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and stick your head into the space. Steve waddles back to make some room. You can’t help but realize just how close you are to one another. You go to put your hand on the ground, but accidentally place it directly on top of Steve’s. With a gasp, you pull it away quickly.

“Sorry…” you both mumble at the same time.

You lean forward and reach into the machine to tug on different wires. With a nervous chuckle, you parse through red, green, and blue wires which are all tangled together. You raise your eyebrows as your gaze flicks around the machine confusedly. You laugh anxiously and pull back.

“Do you happen to know what’s wrong with it?” you ask sheepishly.

You try to ignore the heat that creeps up into your cheeks and tips of your ears. Steve glances over at you and grins. You can’t help but share the expression at the beautiful sigh of his handsome features curving up into joy. His eyes sparkle, even in the low lighting of the room.

“Nope. Not a damn clue. It looks like maybe something came unplugged but I can’t tell. I think this…”

Steve leans forward as he talks, grabbing one of the red wires with his fingertips. To get a better view of it, you follow his lead and press your head right next to his. You’re extra careful not to allow your faces to touch, though. You watch his fingers as he tries to explain his thought process, although not a single word is getting through.

You’re far too distracted by the warmth you can feel radiating off his skin, by the sweet smell of his cologne, by the way his arm just gently brushes against yours when he shifts his weight, the soothing sound of his voice. Everything about him is intoxicating and you can barely keep control of yourself.

“...but who knows. I’m not an electrician,” he finishes with a shrug.

“I see what you’re saying,” you agree. “Maybe if we just…”

You take the cord from him, your fingers brushing. You both pause immediately, the cord dropping as you separate your fingers as quickly as possible. You giggle nervously and Steve clears his throat. You pick the cord back up and plug it into one of many open sockets in the back.

“And then if we just-”

Steve must have had the exact idea as you, because you both move your heads to the side to raise them up from under the table at the same time. Your foreheads knock against each other and you both immediately fill the room with a chorus of ouches. Wincing and rubbing your head, you carefully sit back onto your bum and open an eye to glance at Steve. He’s in the same position as you, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth from the pain of your collision. When he opens his eyes, they land squarely on yours. Horror crosses his face in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, Y/N, are you alright? I am so sorry. I didn’t…that was a total accident. My fault completely, I-”

You can’t help it, you just start to chuckle. After a few seconds, a smile spreads across Steve’s face and he starts to laugh along with you. The gentle sniggering quickly turns into deep wheezing. The next thing you know, you’re both clutching at your stomachs, unable to breathe.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, Mr. Binder. I can’t believe I’ve wounded you twice in one night,” you choke out through laughs.

“It’s my fault for being so clumsy,” he says, shaking his head. “And, you don’t have to call me that, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Binder. You don’t have to address me so formally. I think we’ve worked together long enough for you to call me Steve. As a matter of fact, I’d like you to call me Steve.”

You lift your eyes to his to find a soft smile resting on his features, his eyes glinting. He stares so sweetly at you that your stomach erupts into fits of butterflies. You avert your eyes and giggle in whispers.

“So, should we see if our pain paid off?” he asks, grunting as he pushes himself to a stand.

He turns toward the switchboard and clicks on the machine. Surprisingly, a familiar slow song starts to play. You shoot him a pleased expression as he claps excitedly.

“Alright! There we go, problem solved, amazingly.”

As the music continues to play, you suddenly realize what you’re listening to: Elvis’ famous song “Can't Help Falling in Love with You.” You smile to yourself.

“Oh, don’t you just love this song.”

“I do.”

You lift your gaze back up to his to find his hand outstretched toward you. You nervously slide your fingers into his. To your surprise, your palm fits perfectly. When his fingers curl over your grasp, your heart skips about a thousand beats. He helps you to a stand and your dumb ass somehow manages to trip back over your own feet.

He immediately places his hand on your back to steady you, holding you upright so you don’t fall flat on your face. Embarrassed as hell, you sheepishly giggle again and apologize. You put your feet flat on the ground, but Steve doesn’t release you as you expect. Instead, he holds tightly onto your body, his free hand carefully sliding onto your back to join the other. Your breath hitches in your throat as he holds your body against him. He smiles softly.

“You know, I have to confess that…I’ve been imagining this moment since the first time I saw you."

“What?” you ask with wide eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No, not at all. I’m being totally serious. Why would you think that?’

“There’s no way someone like you could ever be interested in me. I’m…I’m nobody. You’re…”

“Also nobody,” he replies with a chuckle.

“No! No, you’re everything. You’re so much more than I could ever be. You’re out of my league, Mr. Binder, I-”

“Shh,” his whisper interrupts your words. “How could you ever say that? You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on. If one of us is in another league, it’s you. You’re…you’re out of this world, Y/N.”

“Mr. Binder, I…I don’t know what to say, I…”

“Then don’t say anything. Because I can think of a far better way to use your lips.”

Your eyes widen but not for long as he leans forward, pressing his mouth sweetly to yours. You melt under his grasp, your arms winding around his neck to pull him closer. His lips are warm and soft, fitting perfectly between yours. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you further into his body. You don’t want him to leave, so when he acts as though he’s going to pull back, you yank him against your chest, smiling into the kiss. When you start to run out of breath, you finally release him. Your lips separate, although you keep your foreheads pressed together tightly, both heaving for breath.

“Oh, Steve,” you whisper between breaths.

He nudges his nose against yours and you crinkle your face with a smile. You pull back to look at him, but notice his expression deep in thought instead. Tilting your head, you gently shake him.

“What?”

“I was just thinking maybe I should work late more often.”

“Perhaps I’ll join you, if you’ll have me?”

“I’d be glad to take you, anytime,” he replies with a smirk.

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#steve binder #elvis #elvis 2022 #milasthings #milaselviscontent #milasstevebindercontent #milasfics #milaselvisfics #milasstevebinderfics

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moonmoolight · 1 year

Text

chapter one: small mountain town

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Ben and I stand behind Dad, leaning against his SUV, watching him converse with the realtor who had sold him our new home. The woman was droning on about something to do with paperwork as Dad put on a friendly face, though he was eyeing the set of keys dangling from her fingers.

My thoughts wander to the last two weeks that we spent in Seattle. It went by in a big blur between packing everything and helping dad deep clean the house. Of course, I also wondered what life in South Park would be like. Maybe I could finally break out of the rut I've been stuck in for some time. I was happy that my days in Seattle were going to be miles behind me.

Breathing in the petrichor-scented air, I take in the foreign suburb.

Mountains and pine trees lay as a backdrop. Soft birdsong rang out from the trees as the neighborhood sat in the ambient silence of dawn: all but one home, the house just across the street.

Their porch light snapped on, following what I assumed were the lights in their living room. I could make out a pair of silhouettes peaking through the curtains, more than likely in curiosity at the large moving truck parked on the side of the street.

I wondered how long it had been since someone new moved into the neighborhood.

"Lily, look at this," Ben nudges me, diverting my attention from the peeping neighbors to the phone he gestured in my line of sight. He had found a map of the town online. To call South Park small was no understatement. The town center and a small shopping mall were the largest buildings I could make out in the pixilated picture.

"At least it won't be hard to find anything," I reply as he sneers.

"What do people even do for fun here? Get shitfaced and tip cows?" He mocks before throwing his head back and groaning dramatically.

"Probably, maybe we should try it out," I say mischievously, snickering silently up at him. Ben scrunched his nose up, fainting disgust.

"Sorry to hold you up, Doctor. I'm sure you all are tired after the long drive over here. That should be everything. Give me a call if you have any questions." The real-estate agent says as she finally hands our eager father the keys to the home. "-I hope you enjoy your new home." Shaking her hand and sharing some parting goodbyes, he turns to us and grins from ear to ear.

"Alright, kids, you two head inside! I'll go get started on the boxes." He runs over to the moving truck and throws the keys to Ben.

"How does he have so much energy at six in the morning?" I question my brother with a groan as we begin the slow ascent up the porch steps.

"He's just excited, don't be such a dick about it."I scoff at him as he unlocks the front door to reveal a spacious living room.

Floorboards creek under the weight of our bodies as I survey the space. Besides a cozy fireplace fixed to the white eggshell walls, the whole place felt barren. Ben throws his bag down beside the door, and I follow suit.

"The bedrooms must be upstairs." He grunts out.

"No shit?"

Ben sends me falling to the floor with one lethal shove. We have both grown irritable after spending almost two days cooped up in the car together. Used to his tactics, I acted fast and coiled my hand around his foot as he attempted to speed away from me. Losing his balance, he hits the floor with a loud thud.

"Lily, you fuck-"

"Benjamin, language!" Dad's voice booms through the empty home as he juggles a few boxes in his arms. He was peering past them as he shook his head disapprovingly at seeing us on the ground. "Very mature, you two."

My face grows red, embarrassed that I had once again stooped down to Ben's levels of sibling rivalry. Ben, on the other hand, smiles sheepishly. Dropping the boxes a few inches from my face, I squeeze my eyes shut as I shrink away. Dad turns on his heels.

"Please just take these upstairs. And I don't want to hear or see you two fighting anymore. Got it?" We were both quick to get upright. As Dad exits the house again, I shoot Ben a glare, sticking my tongue out at him as I grab a box that had my name scribbled over the side sloppily in black sharpie ink.

The two of us make our way to the house's second floor. Placing our boxes down, I cross my arms.

"I'll take that room." Ben points to the room on the left that faces the backyard. Not having any objection, I nod.

"Fine by me."

Branching off from each other, I enter my new room.

It was devoid of life, to the point that it felt like I was the only person who had ever set foot in the room. Soon, it would be uniquely my own.

The layout was pretty simple. There was nothing extraordinary about it. A closet was hidden behind two large doors. A window that faced the front door had a small built-in reading nook. I walk back to the top of the stairs and grab the box I had abandoned there.

Setting the box on the window seat, I open it and get to work unpacking my life.

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

After hours of sorting out my room, it was finally in a complete state. Besides my mattress and desk, I couldn't get them up the stairs alone.

The walls were littered with posters and string lights, just the way I liked it. I sat on top of the amp for my guitar as I thoughtlessly scrolled through my socials, using it as an opportunity to give myself a break. Before long, I heard a knock at my closed door.

"Yeah?" I shout, turning my phone off.

Ben's head pops around the door frame, "Do you want to go for a drive? Dad wants me to go buy some stuff."

Piquing my interest, I nod quickly. Of course, I wouldn't turn down an opportunity to explore the town more. I was thrilled that he had asked at all.

"Yeah, let me grab my jacket." I hid my excitement as I followed him out of the house.

Once we were in the car, Ben quickly whipped his phone out to get directions to the closest store.

"I guess we are going to Walmart," He mutters after looking it up.

He sounded displeased, but I figured he didn't want to go anywhere in the first place. Ben was more introverted than even I was. Ben wasn't always a hermit; he'd become borderline agoraphobic after our parents divorced. He had taken the split pretty hard. And whether or not he would admit it, I was pretty sure that he wanted me to join him on outings as a sort of reassurance or creature comfort.

As he steers the car out of the driveway, he pulls a vape from his pocket, though he keeps it in his lap until we are a few blocks away. Taking a very long draw from it, he gestures it in my general direction as he keeps his eyes glued to the road.

"You know, you're enabling my addiction. That's not very brotherly of you." I quip, taking it from his hand.

"Oh, shut up. If I didn't, you'd whine about it."

It didn't take us long to make our way from the suburban area. The streets were now lined with small businesses, already closed for the evening.

The streets were pretty empty since most people had turned in for the night. We passed a couple of chain restaurants and a few bars that showed signs of life. Resting my head against the window, I watch each street light we pass while listening to Ben sing along to a song he had been playing through the aux cord.

We come to a stop at a traffic light. In the lane next to us was a beat-up truck. They had taken the muffler off as it roared beside us. Music that blared from the vehicle almost drowned out their loud exhaust. I peer up through the window in curiosity.

Besides us were a group of teenagers, around mine and Ben's age, huddled in an old single-cab Ford Ranger.

The driver appeared to be grinning at something the girl next to him in the middle was saying. He'd been wearing a dark orange sweatshirt beneath an old brown Carhartt jacket, strands of dirty blond hair peeking through the hood. His left arm was slung out the window.

The girl beside him was very alternative looking. Her features were emphasized by her bridge piercing and how her Ramona Flowers-esk hair framed her face perfectly. I couldn't see who sat on the other side of the couple, as it was already pretty hard to strain my eyes to see through the headlights that beamed against the dark road.

I caught the driver's attention as he swiveled to look down at me. Quickly slinking down, I try to hide my face behind my hair. Hearing their music turn down a few notches, they shout towards us.

"What the hell?" Ben mutters as he looks at them.

"Roll down your window!", Shouts the alternative girl, and the guy motions his hand in a way that mimicked turning the handle of a crank. A couple of masculine voices also carry through from the other side of the truck.

Looking at Ben, he gives me a warning look. "Lil, we don't know them." He says through gritted teeth.

I look down at the sleeves of my oversized jean jacket that covers my hands. I don't know what overcame me. It was a feeling that I hadn't felt in a long time.

Was it bravery or confidence? I contemplate.

"They look nice," I reach over to hover over the passenger side window switch, "We can make some new friends..?"

"Lily, did you consider that I don't want to-"

He quickly tightened his lips as I started rolling down the window. I could feel the brisk wind against my face as I awkwardly waved to them.

"Are you guys the ones that just moved here? On Hawthorne, right?" The girl shouts over the guy. I nodded as Ben's face turned red as he tried to ignore the conversation. She smiled brightly, and it reminded me of warm sunlight.

"That's so cool; we're neighbors!"

I was about to reply when a car horn blared behind us. The light had finally turned green. I returned her smile and waved goodbye as Ben quickly sped away. I look over to see his hands shaking as he concentrates, his face still tinged a light pink.

"Why did you do that?!"

I shrug, as truthfully, I didn't know why I had done it.

"I don't know. I just wanted to be friendly, I guess. I'm sorry. I mean, maybe things can be different here, Ben."

There was a long pause between us, Ben taking an anxious drag from his vape. There was that feeling again. It boiled to the surface and festered in my chest until I took a sharp breath.

"I want it to be different. Don't you?"

My tone was dramatic, laced with exasperation. I watched Ben's expression soften as he glanced at me momentarily, almost like he was ushering me to continue, which I did.

"Aren't you sick of being a loner? I know I am. It doesn't have to be like that here!" I say, uncharacteristically confident in my words. As we finally pull into the store's parking lot, he sets the car into park, pausing as he looks down and absorbs what I said.

"Come on, Ben. Do you want me, your sixteen-year-old little sister, to be your only friend during your last year in high school?"

He turns off the car and gets out without a word, shutting the door gently behind him. I sighed as I felt like I had upset him with my words. Riddled with guilt, I follow my brother toward the store entrance. Suddenly, however, he veers in the opposite direction. Where in the world was he going?

"Ben?"

He stops, looking back at me, "... You're right. Okay?"

He gestures toward where he is headed, and I see the truck that was once beside us on the road. The teens began to push out of the tightly packed space. "I... We need to make the most of this. It's just terrifying. But it'd be good for the both of us to," he pauses as he looks to the side and outwardly cringes, "- Socialize."

I was surprised to hear him admit that. But I was proud of him too. I would have never envisioned either of us making this kind of progress in a night. I nodded at him with a soft encouraging smile, "Thanks. You know, for agreeing with me."

Turning back towards the other teens, he puffs out his chest subtly. "Yeah, 'just don't let it get to your head, Lily."

Ben leads the way toward the group of friends, all looking at us in what seems to be a cheery curiosity. My brother holds out a fist to the blond-headed guy who had been driving as I unintentionally hide behind him.

"I like your truck," Ben says, putting on a friendly facade to hide his anxiousness.

The guy gives him a big toothy grin, "Thanks, new kid." He reaches out to bump his fist against Ben's.

"I'm Ben Freeman, and this is my little sister, Lily."

The girl I had seen earlier peers around my brother to offer me another friendly wave. All the bravery I had felt earlier had dissipated. I must have used it all in that stupid speech I gave Ben. Shyly, I returned her gesture, though I looked back down at my shoes as though they were more interesting. They weren't.

"It's nice to see some new faces. We don't see em' often here in South Park."

I heard a few more feet shuffling against the asphalt towards us.

"The names Kenny McCormick, and these are my friends," He stops and, I assume, gestures to his companions.

"This is Ophelia, Butters, Stan, and Cartman."

I glimpsed up at the group, though I still had difficulty making complete eye contact with them. They all exchanged pleasant greetings towards my brother and me, except for the large guy in the group, who looked annoyed.

After that, there was a lapse in conversation before Kenny spoke up again.

"You guys want to join us?"

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bangtanflirt · 2 years

Text

Intuition (One-Shot)

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Namjoon makes an appearance)

PG-13 for one brief mention of “going home” together.

Summary: Jeon Jungkook’s intuition has never let him down before, but there’s a first time for everything.

This is just a lighthearted, short fic that was in my mind. There’s embarrassing situations and misunderstandings but it’s more humorous than angsty.

Jungkook feels your gaze from across the club, causing him to puff out his chest and drink down the beverage with sultriness levels cranked up to eleven. He’s used to this kind of attention—thrives off of it, even. These stolen glances and shy smiles never get old, no matter how many girls he does this dance with. He remembers you from one of his lectures, mainly because you’re far more interesting to look at than the professor.

“Earth to Jeon”

Jungkook didn’t notice when his hyung had taken a seat in front of him, too busy playing this cat-and-mouse game with your gaze.

“Oh, hey hyung”

“What’s got you so spaced out?”

“Girl behind you. White dress, blue purse. She’s into me.”

Namjoon chuckles, not surprised at the younger’s confidence. He’s not one to challenge Jungkook on such matters—mostly because, Jungkook is always right. Namjoon himself can read if a girl is into him pretty decently, having around an eighty percent success rate…but his dongsaeng is on another level of intuition. Gone are the early days of their friendship when the hyung would tease the younger’s confidence and bet that he’d strike out. He knows better now.

The dimpled man opens his front-facing camera, checking you out discreetly. There’s a beat of silence where Jungkook can’t read Namjoon’s expression.

“Okay, she’s hot.” He concludes.

Jungkook chuckles.

“Are you gonna go make a move or should I go test my luck?”

And that’s Jungkook’s cue to get his ass up and walk over to you.

Your eyes immediately drop down to your dirty martini, demeanor turning shier the closer he gets.

She’s nervous. Cute.

“Hey there, mind if I join you?”

You gulp, nodding your head as he grabs a seat, and you two exchange names.

“So, I think we both know why I came here” he grins.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll stop staring…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I just—”

“Relax y/n. You didn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, I’m flattered.”

“Oh” your shoulders visibly lower in relief.

“How’d I grab your attention in the first place, doll?”

You’re taken aback by the nickname but choose to brush it off.

“All the girls keep staring at you. Even in class.”

Well, that was not the answer he was expecting, but an answer he’s happy with nonetheless. So, you’re one of those girls that wants what everyone covets; you want to parade him around like a trophy to prove you’re better than all the other girls. He’s more than fine with being a trophy if it’s by someone who looks like you.

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue amusedly, “so how ‘bout we let them know I’m not leaving with any of them tonight?”

Your eyes widen as the situation finally sinks in, immediately shaking your head no.

“That’s not what I—oh my god, I’m so sorry Jungkook. I wasn’t trying to hit on you.”

“What?”

“I just think you’re really cool and girls obviously like you so…so I was trying to get some tips. Y’know…on how to flirt with girls.”

“Oh. OH.” His face is etched with embarrassment.

“I assumed you knew I was gay when you walked up to me, since our campus is so small.” Your eyes fill will guilt, even though there’s no reason for them to do so.

Jungkook’s mind races at full speed. Why didn’t I know? Why did no one tell me? How do I escape this situation and flee to another country but still look cool doing it?

“No sweat. Sorry I assumed.” He gives you no chance to respond as he turns on his heel and rushes back towards the other side of the club—it’s there he’s met with Namjoon and his shit-eating grin.

“No luck getting the lesbian’s number?”

“YOU KNEW?!”

“Of course I knew. Everyone at school knows!” he gets his words out between bouts of unrestrained laughter.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have gone over there!” Jungkook asks in half-whine, half-pout.

“How could I pass up an opportunity to take your ego down a notch?” He winks, giving Jungkook a pat on the back as well as a glass of whiskey. “Here, drink up until you forget how cringy you were back there.”

____

A/N: Let me know what you think and have a lovely day!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #bts university au

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aajjks · 5 months

Note

TPOL!JK

“I DON’T FUCKING TRUST HIM”

and there it is. the real reason, if you can call it that. the history between you and namjoon was sweet, you’ll admit but that chapter is over. you’re a stepmother to a beautiful baby boy and head over heels in love with his father but there will always be something or someone threatening to come between you two.

“so how did you know he was asking me on dates, jungkook?” you say when he brings up not snooping through your phone but namjoon asked to get coffee either yesterday or the day before that. “just gonna blatantly lie in my face, huh? okay” he wants to talk about trust yet here he is lying in your face about looking through your phone.

the salt on your wounds only burns more when he brings up chaeyoung, the woman he has a BABY with. sure, he regrets his actions but you don’t hold that against him. you just wish he’d stop being so regretful because jaemin has been nothing but a blessing in both yours and his life.

regardless of chaeyoung or namjoon, one thing jungkook can always do is trust you or he should try and trust you. if there’s anyone that should feel betrayed here, it’s you.

“no, i don’t trust chaeyoung around you but i trust you. i trusted you when you came back with scratches and bite marks on your neck, i trusted you when you went to see her at the hospital, i trusted you when you didn’t revoke your parental rights KNOWING jaemin i’m not his biological mother. so, hell no i don’t and would never trust her around you but i’ve always trusted you. i always have”

“if you claim to trust me so much, why does grocery shopping with him bother you so much? you trust me, right?“

He buries his head in his hands, feeling incredibly stupid and embarrassed. “ you are right I should trust you and I really do believe it or not. I just let my insecurities get the best of me…. Please try to understand where I’m coming from.”

“Isn’t it fuckin obvious yn?! I’m scared to lose you because I know that he’s better than me and he can treat you so much better than I can.” His voice is breaking as he finally lets out his fears.

And that is the truth, Jungkook knows very well. You deserve better, you deserve so much better because he’s so toxic. And he’s kind of fucked up.

But still, he cannot let you go. He’s so selfish.

“Why wouldn’t you want to be with a stable man who has a stable family and isn’t too fucked up in the brain?? And doesn’t have a child with his crazy ex?” His Sentences come out, wavering.

It is so hard for him to admit the truth. How pathetic is this? A 36 year-old man is still so insecure.

“Truth is… I can’t let you go, and I cannot let him have you again- you don’t belong with him you belong with me,” after finally gathering the courage, he says it the words he’s been wanting to for the longest time. “And I’d rather die than to watch you be with someone else.” He looks at you with desperation.

Jungkook sighs and he thinks for a while, still standing right in front of you, and then it hits him, so without wasting a moment- he’s off to search his nightstand.

You’re probably confused as to what he’s doing in the middle of an argument, you probably think he’s crazy. Yes he is, about you.

You repeatedly call out his name because you’re frustrated and clueless while he smiles big when he finds the thing he’s looking for.

And with the speed of light, Jungkook is right in front of you, he doesn’t waste another moment to get down on his knee, and he is presenting you with a purple velvet box.

He opens it and there’s a gorgeous ring sitting in it, it is a diamond ring with three diamonds attached to the band, Holding a very special meaning behind it. he just hopes that you’ll actually accept because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if you don’t.

Jungkook is a desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures and he honestly didn’t expect or think about proposing to you like this.

Oh no, not at all.

“Marry me, yn. Please.”

This is the only way he can be sure that you’ll be his forever and that he cannot steal you away from him.

#ask: tpol!jungkook #talk about his timings 😭#Also can you tell me why did he choose a tree diamond stone ring?

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parcequecestnotreprojeeeet · 1 year

Note

Hello! It's Winter. I am loving everyone's stories lately. Keep em coming!

From down the hall, Emmanuel could hear grunting, cursing and shouting. To the best of his knowledge, his wife was alone in their bedroom. As he moved closer to their door, he started to make out specific words she was saying. Her tone was harsh like she was upset with someone. Emmanuel hoped it wasn’t him. He couldn’t think of anything he was guilty of doing that would have set her off.

“Cherie?” He lightly tapped on the door before opening it. “It’s me”

“Come in” she grunted.

The scene in front of him was perplexing. Brigitte’s beautiful designer clothes were scattered across the floor. Expensive scarves were rolled up into tiny balls and stilettos and boots had been divided into two large piles. She was currently on her knees sorting through a mountain of Louis Vuitton blazers.

“What are you doing?”

She pointed to the larger of the two piles. “I’m donating these to charity or to my daughters - if they want them”

Emmanuel kneeled beside her, rubbing her back. “Why? You love all these outfits”. He glanced at the pile of shoes in horror. “Brigitte! There must be at least 40 pairs here!”

Carefully he picked out a pair and held them up. “These are your favourite Chanel boots! They were an anniversary gift from me”

She pointed to a new pair of shoes, ones he’d never seen before. “These will be my new everyday shoes from now on”

Emmanuel picked the flat-heeled, brown, cheap-looking shoes off the floor with disgust. “They’re hideous! They look like something a grandmother would wear! Where did you even find these? A flea market?”

She snatched them from his hand. “In case you weren’t aware, I am a grandmother!”

He scoffed. “You’re not a typical grandma! Brigitte, why are you getting rid of everything? What has gotten into that brilliant head of yours?”

Suddenly...Just like that, it hit him like a ton of bricks. All the negative articles that had been published recently about her wardrobe, how she dressed too young for her age, the colour of her hair, and the length of her skirts had all been criticized.

Emmanuel scooped the pile of beautiful shoes up in his arms.

“Where are you going with those?!” She shrieked.

“I’m putting them back on the shelf! I won’t let you toss these away because of some stupid people’s bullshit opinions! I happen to love the way you dress, and I know how much you adore your clothes! You look damn good in them too! Please, don’t let these fools change your appearance”

Lightly touching his leg, she smiled up at her husband. “I don’t embarrass you with my short dresses? Or the blonde hair?”

He bent down to capture her lips. “Never! You’d embarrass me if you started dressing like a 90-year-old woman. Do not cover up those sexy legs! I don't want you dressing the way my mother does”

Emmanuel offered to help put everything back in her closet. Once they were done, they stared blankly at the ugly pair of brown shoes on the floor.

“What should I do with those? I paid good money for them!” Brigitte teased.

“How much were they??” He asked in horror, afraid she paid hundreds of dollars for those awful-looking things.

She covered her mouth and with a giggle replied, “$10”

He playfully tickled her stomach. “That’s $10 too much, Cherie! I have an idea - we can let Nemo chew on them. They won’t go to waste”

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Yes Brigitte, you just dress whatever you feel comfortable with and to the hell with the people’s opinions!

In the meantime, Nemo won a new “toy” hahaha

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #winter

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aghostpost · 2 years

Text

An Indecent Proposal (Pt. 2)

Part 1

I was reluctant to take my shoes off, already clenching from the idea of my bare feet on the ice cold marble. Besides, this wasn’t even his place, so why should I? “Would you be completely offended if I didn’t take my shoes off? It’s just, the floor’s really cold. Plus I don’t plan on staying here very long.”

“Afraid to get comfortable?” he teased as he peeled off his suit jacket.

“This’ll be a short chat.”

“Would you like a drink?”

“Oh yeah, Mr. Moneybags hit big tonight, didn’t he? Minibar on you?”

“Help yourself. I owe you for my drink downstairs anyway.”

I sauntered over to the not-so-mini fridge, heels still tied on, noticing that of course his refrigerator was substantially larger than the one in my room. Not shocking, because so was the room itself, which was also on a much higher level than mine. I could have sat and came up with an encyclopedia of reasons why that may be, but why soil the mood? By now my night’s drinking had caught up to me to the point that even if Satoru strolled in I’d probably be more amused than exasperated by him. I peered inside the fridge and decided not to overdo it, reaching for the miniature bottle of Riesling. I looked over at Kento, who was parked by the sliding glass door that opened to the suite’s balcony. “Want anything?” I picked up one of the glasses on the counter beside the minibar.

“No, thank you,” he responded curtly, unlocking the door and sliding it open. I was instantly engulfed in an enchanting summer’s night breeze, the hustle and bustle of Paradisio patrons heard in the distance below. “Before you get too drunk to remember-”

“-I am absolutely not drunk,” I interjected, walking to the couch in the living area. I made a little show of it by walking with my arms stretched my full wingspan, then taking an index finger to the nose and walking a straight line. “See?”

He shook his head to himself as I sat. “I’d like the answer that I won whenever you’re ready, Y/L/N.”

“Ugh- Okay, stop right there. Do you always have to do that? The last name thing, no matter how long you've been in the states now?”

“Is that why you don’t like me? Because I refer to you by your last name?”

I cracked open the twist top to the wine and poured myself a glass before resting it on the elegant gold-rimmed glass coffee table, crossing my legs and reclining against the couch. “Just because I don’t wanna sit and pore over every second of that night-”

“-That isn’t what I wanted-”

“-Does not mean I hate you or I am avoiding you. I’m just… not one to dwell on the past,” I said with a lackadaisical wave of the hand.

“You seem to engage more with someone like Gojo more than you do me, someone that you claimed has said and done nothing out of line, and that you had sex with. Which brings me to my next ask…”

“Ask away.”

“Did you not enjoy it?”

“... The sex? Are you asking if I enjoyed the sex that I had with you, Kento Nanami?” I asked with a smirk, going for another sip of my wine.

He sighed and rolled his neck, either in irritation or mild embarrassment. Hell, most likely a bit of both, but I couldn’t help myself. This was way more fun than the first time I got to poke at him when we met in San Fran, and I was enjoying cracking open that impenetrable shell of his. “Yes.”

I looked toward the ceiling as if in deep thought. “Hmm… Nope, I have no complaints on that front either.” I noticed him clench his jaw in frustration and couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Listen. We’re good, okay? It seemed to me like you were moving on with life just like I was. Why do you wanna talk about this now, almost two years later?”

“It wasn’t until recently you and I were on the same team working together. I noticed how tersely you’d speak to me, how short you seemed. I wondered if I had wronged you in the past.”

“Work is work, that’s all. I don’t mix business and play.”

“Except for the time that you did,” he sassed, looking out of the balcony door to the night’s sky, unable to hide the cheeky little grin on his face.

“Oh? Must be the drinks talking now.”

“Hm. If you say so…”

As much as I was dreading it, I guess this little chat wasn’t so bad after all. I got to see Kento in a more... sentient manner, his icy shroud slowly melting but of course not completely. Emotional expression looked good on him. “Are you gonna be a gentleman and walk me back to my room now?”

“I could, if that’s what you’d like...”

I noticed his voice seemed to trail off at the end, as if to say he had another option to put on the table. Besides, answers to yes or no questions that were neither yes nor no always begged to be investigated. “Or?” I asked, taking the bait.

“I have another proposal,” he stated, still leaning against the opening of the patio with his arms folded, still staring outside as if he was conversing with the moon.

“... By all means, please keep me in suspense, Kenny.”

At that he chuckled and visibly softened by the smallest degree, turning his focus to me. “Been a while since I heard that.”

“I like it. It humanizes you.”

“Am I inhuman?”

“Mmmm, you can be a bit inscrutable.”

“To a fault, it seems?”

“Oh absolutely, yes. Speaking to someone with an unmoving, round-the-clock poker face? It lent a great help in my remaining distant, to say the least.”

“I can’t help my nature, I’m afraid.”

“No, I guess you can’t. Unless you have Satoru’s persistence in getting under your skin, which I can proudly say I don’t share.”

“Thankfully.”

“Now, that proposal?” I swallowed the last of my wine glass and rested it on the coffee table.

“Well, you said that you enjoyed yourself? In San Francisco?”

“... I think that’s a fair assessment.” Now I was in the mood to have my ego stroked a little, plus I was curious. The alcohol was whispering sweet nothings to my lesser nature, and I felt my own frigid self begin to warm. “Did you?”

Suddenly I felt hyper aware of myself as he eyed me from top to tail, his eyes lingering on certain parts of me just a second longer than others. Which parts, I couldn’t tell, and that was gonna drive me fucking nuts. He turned to look back to the outside, and I took advantage of whatever time I had to survey him as well. He was so elongated, captivating in a modelesque kinda way, especially his gaunt facial features. He tended to look like he and a good night’s rest were strangers whenever I saw him, his cheekbones protruding just a little like he was the tiniest bit emaciated.

He was dressed as sharp as a tack, which wasn’t short from the usual. Everything he wore was fresh pressed, lines crisp, details minimal as to not distract from the flattering tailoring. I studied his crisp powder blue dress shirt that he carefully rolled to his elbows, which drew my attention to his forearms, his hands.

And that watch. That sexy ass watch on his wrist.

Had I not known him, and based on the watch and shoes rules I stated before, it was painfully evident he was a money man.

“Yes. I enjoyed myself.” He looked over to me. “But it could have been better.’

I snapped out of my reverie, forgetting I even asked him a question. Wait, what the hell did he just say?? “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t mean any offense, I just know that was the tip of the iceberg.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I know what I would have liked to do, had you given me the opportunity.”

Well this was the last thing I ever expected: a smooth talking Kento Nanami. Was this him after a few drinks? Shit, maybe it was the drinks having an effect on me ! I don’t remember any of this energy during our last rendezvous; maybe he was determined not to repeat anything that would make me distant again. For a moment there was just silence between us, and I tried looking at almost anything else but his eyes burning into me. My mouth had gone bone dry, all playfulness sucked outta me and vanished into thin air. Out of absolutely nowhere the roles had been reversed. I poured myself the remainder of my wine and sipped, pondering my next move. The idea was tempting, but it was supposed to be a one and done. What would it mean if we became repeat offenders?

“What are you thinking, Y/L/N?”

I focused my attention from my bouncing foot to him. “My first name isn’t some kinda curse, y’know. It won’t kill you to use it, I promise.”

“It's just customary where I’m from; tough habit to break, I suppose. And I think your first name is lovely, Y/N.”

I felt a tiny tickle release inside my gut hearing my name from his mouth, something I think I’ve heard only once. Even when we had sex he didn’t say my name, just opted for soft, sweet moans that encouraged you onward.

You liked the moans, remember?

… Fuck.

You’re gonna fuck him.

I sighed and finished my wine, a silent toast to myself as I clearly made up my mind. It wasn’t a terrible idea, as my night could have ended with far worse prospects. And there was a level of comfort here, small and fragile as it may be. I also couldn’t deny the effect of the confidence he exuded tonight by presenting me with this proposal to begin with. Alcohol aside, I’d be fine with this being how I ended my night.

But the drinks certainly helped make things feel better.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Do I seem more human when I call you by your name?” he mocked.

I chuckled. “Yeah you do, actually.”

He paused before speaking again. “Are you uncomfortable, Y/N?”

My brows furrowed with confusion. “No?”

“Nervous then, maybe?”

“No. Why are you asking? Am I acting weird or somethin’?”

“No, but you’re fidgeting. The leg bouncing…”

“I do that sometimes when I’m thinking.” That was only partially a lie.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“A handful of things. For starters, are you gonna hang by the balcony all night?”

“Hopefully not, but I think it’s best for now.”

“And looking outside instead of at me? Is that best for now, too?”

“Without a doubt.”

I paused, wondering if I should go on. Maybe this was how I shifted the power in the room back to my favor. I’d be lying if I said scratching at his edges, watching him fray and slowly unravel wasn’t igniting a fire deep within my spirit. “We can’t act on your proposal with you all the way over there, Kento.”

He hesitated briefly before speaking again. “I have two conditions.”

My brows raised with amusement. “Ooph, do go on.”

“First, uncross your legs. The skirt of your dress, the way it’s hugging your thigh tightly while it peeks from under the hem; I’m not sure I can avoid looking at it much longer.”

I started to salivate. For the majority of the night he barely looked at me, on the casino floor or here in his suite. You’re tellin’ me he’s been stealing glances this entire time? And he was studying me so closely without my knowledge… “What if I want you to look?”

“Then I’ll look. From over here.” He turned to me and cocked his head slightly to the side, shifting to move his hands to his pockets. I pondered not listening just to push him a little further, but decided I would have much preferred his company beside me to toy with him up close. I uncrossed my legs and tugged my dress skirt as low as the tight fabric would go. “Thank you. Second, I’d like you to cover yourself with my suit jacket.”

I looked slightly behind me to my left and pointed. “This suit jacket?”

He nodded once. “That would be the one.”

“You want me to cover up, even though my clothes are about to be on the floor?”

“Yes. I’d like to remain a gentleman for a moment longer.”

I shrugged and sighed. I was growing more eager to move this night along at the sudden threat of an uncouth Kento Nanami, so I begrudgingly obliged, grabbing his jacket and draping it over my front side. “Now I have a condition. Come sit.” Finally he pushed himself off the wall and casually made his way to the couch. “Here,” I redirected him, tapping the floor space right in front of me with the toe of my heel. A small huff came from him, but no back talk as he did exactly as I ordered.

A good boy.

“Then perhaps the time to be a gentleman is over.” He situated himself comfortably in front of my uncrossed legs, propping an arm on the coffee table as he rested his head on his hand.

“Good. Now tell me what it is you wanted to do before but didn’t have the chance.”

“Is it safe to assume you’re clean?”

“As a whistle. And I doubt I’m the only woman you’ve made this indecent proposal to…”

He went to pull his cell from his pants pocket. “I’ve made it a bit of a habit to get tested prior to these work events,” he said before producing a screen with test results. “Comes in handy. Just in case.”

“Right. Just in case…” I said, eyeing him smugly as I reached to place his phone on the coffee table. It was a bit slutty of him to be honest, but also smart, and we love a smart hoe. If hooking up was the thing to do at these little gatherings it made perfect sense to be prepared and have all your boxes checked.

He flicked his wrist to look at that beautiful watch. It has to be Swiss. “Do you have to wake up early?”

I shook my head. “Free ‘til the dinner.”

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning. I’d rather not rush this like last time.”

My head fell back into the couch with the most dramatic sigh I could muster. I closed my eyes and flung an arm over them, noticing that the motion made his suit jacket fall just enough to reveal a little chest, but not enough to be dangerous. “You’re not seriously about to blueball me…”

The corner of his mouth upturned to a hint of a smirk. “I wouldn’t do that to you or myself. There’s plenty I could do with limited time.” Without warning, I felt a hand, firm but unexpectedly gentle, trail up the back of my calf. I visibly tensed, causing him to pause in motion, but he didn’t remove his hand from me at all.

“Sorry. You’re kinda cold.” I lied. In fact, his touch was pretty fuckin’ incendiary.

“Not that you need my permission, but you can always tell me to stop.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean it. Don’t hesitate.”

“Kento,” I spoke with annoyance, returning my arm to my side before looking directly at him, “if you stop I just might kill you. You don’t have to give me the consent speech, okay?” I smiled and nudged him with my leg. “Now show me what you can do on a time crunch.”

He shook his head and returned his attention to my leg, eyes still on mine as his fingertips trailed up my calf. I watched his hand as it traveled higher and higher before reaching behind the knee, one spot that makes me completely spasm when tickled. I flinched, but with a smile this time as I tried not to erupt with laughter. “Extremely ticklish there; you’re doin’ great.”

“Noted.”

I composed myself, sinking comfortably into the couch as he carefully untied the tassels of my right heel before doing the same with my left. I watched him work with surgical precision on such a trivial task; was he this meticulous with everything he did? The thin straps pooled around my ankles like noodles. He slid each heel off and discarded them to the side, then moved to actually kneel before me. “Stand up.” I couldn’t ignore the change in his tone if I wanted to. It was still short and curt as usual, but it was less matter-of-fact and more… commanding.

He was telling me to stand in a way I knew better than to disobey.

I pulled myself up from the couch cushions without objection. Even kneeling he was tall, his head reaching my navel. I stared at the slicked blond head and he set one hand to a leg, running them up down and around in painfully slow strokes. My heart began beating like a war drum the higher his hands rose, from my ankles, to swirling along the back of my legs, tickling behind the knees again. I buckled at the sensation, putting my hands on the thick muscle of his shoulders for support. As he reached my thighs, his fingers splayed on the skirt of my dress. I wonder if he could see the rapid rise and fall of my stomach as my breathing intensified. I studied every vein and muscle movement in his hands as he squeezed and gripped at my thighs, when it suddenly became my only desire for him to grab me this same way all over my body.

I nearly melted into a puddle when his hands carefully slid beneath my dress, still firm, still igniting me under his touch. He grabbed at the sides of my thighs and started to knead them like dough. I drifted off for a second as I imagined how magical a massage from him would be…

“Is there any part of you that isn’t this soft?”

Take this dress off me and find out.

Too forward. “Sorry to disappoint, but…”

“I’ve never known disappointment to feel this tantalizing.” His hands journeyed higher, and the skirt of my dress rose with them. He slid his hands to my backside and grazed my ass with his nails before gripping each cheek firmly. I squeezed his shoulders to brace myself, my own overwhelming thirst taking hold of me.

Then I felt his hands glide under the elastic waist of my panties, twisting and wrapping the fabric around his fists so tightly I knew the material would rip. The dark navy blue lace began to sink into my skin in just the right amount of pain before he let up, running his index fingers along the waistband delicately. Finally, after twisting his fingers in the material once more, he held his grip and began sliding them downward, past my skirt and into visibility before they were around my ankles. He looked up at me, wordlessly telling me to step out, and I did.

I could have looked at him staring at me that way for hours.

He tossed the panties off to the side before sliding his hands up my thighs again, pushing my dress to bunch up around my waist. His hands firmly gripping the back of my legs, pressed beneath the crease of my ass, he leaned forward and placed butterfly-light kisses to me. My breathing hitched momentarily, my heart in a confused flux, caught between rapidly beating or completely pausing. He kissed higher and higher, back and forth between each leg in random places, using the tip of his nose to trail along my skin. Finally he reached the apex, and looked me in the eye once again, the look in his eyes nothing like I’ve seen from him before. Eyes I would once consider distant, cold, devoid of feeling, glinted with a burning thirst. It was the same thirst I was feeling for him in this moment in every single bone in my body. He sprung up to his full height, looking down his nose before nodding to the right. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

“Are you… gonna lead the way?”

“I’d rather follow you.” He nodded in the same direction once more. I turned to begin walking, pulling my dress back down as I did. “Leave it, Y/N.” My heart leapt into my throat, but I quickly swallowed it back down and continued walking and listening for directions to the bedroom.

The room would have been pitch black if not for the wall of floor to ceiling windows, the illuminated city twinkling brighter than the sky and offering some lighting in the room. He moved from behind me to flip a switch on a further end of the wall, the room now dimly lit by the two mounted bedside lamps.

“Sit on the bed.”

“Scared of the dark?” I teased, but truthfully it was a weak attempt to poke at him to make it seem like I still could. It wasn’t very effective since I still crawled on the bed like a house cat at his command, because that’s what he was doing at this point, bossing me around. Not only could I not think of any sound reason not to listen to him, but I didn’t want to. I couldn’t have asked for this night to go any better than it was going at this very moment, all courtesy of following Kento’s lead.

So why not let him continue leading?

“I want to see you.” He moved to grab the ottoman at the foot of the bed, sliding it towards the wall opposite. “I want to see every single part of you,” he began as he took a seat, “every rise of your chest at each intake of breath, every clench and spasm of your muscles as you try to grasp for control of your body.”

I swallowed. Hard . I don’t fucking know how, but here I was fighting to hide the very reactions he was describing. My chest wanted to rise and fall with hyperventilation, I clenched from my nerves being on a razor sharp edge at his words. My thighs clenched at the way he stared at me from behind that famously unbothered face.

“Are you ready?”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #kento x reader #nanami x reader #kento nanami

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ddproductionsw77 · 2 years

Text

Friday I’m In Love

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing(s): Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak)

Characters: (Major) Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak (Minor) Maggie Tozier, Wentworth Tozier, and Sonia Kaspbrak, (Mentioned) a couple of the other Losers

Rating: T (M if language and violence offends you but nothing sexual)

Description: Richie and Eddie have a pretty shit week (Reddie songfic to “Friday, I’m in Love” by The Cure) (Aged-up to high school)

Author’s Note: This is the REVISED version of Friday, I’m In love. Lyrics from The Cure’s “Friday, I’m in Love”

|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|I don't care if Monday's blue

Richie had always hated Mondays. They only meant another week of school he’d have to find some way to survive through. A Junior in high school at the age of 17, he was desperate to get through his last couple of years of required education and do… well, something more interesting than Algebra II, that was for fucking sure.

Waking up that Monday, the fall of 1992, Richie clambered out of bed in a bit of a blur. Searching for his glasses, he finally found them and shoved them onto his face, tripping around his bedroom. He’d hit snooze on the alarm clock one too many times again and was running a tad late.

In his hurry and because he still hadn’t fully grown into his gangly limbs, Richie tripped over one of his bright red Chuck Taylors and groaned from the floor after he when sprawling.

“Dammit, Richard! Keep it down! I’m trying to sleep!” He heard his mother scream from down the hallway.

Rolling his eyes, he sat up and rubbed the place where his shoulder had collided with his dresser on the way down. Unable to keep his notorious mouth shut, he called back, “Sorry, Mother Dearest! Silly me, I fell and almost killed myself! Inconsiderate, I know!”

There was a pause and then his father’s voice, “Richard, stop being a fucking idiot and get ready for school!”

Nodding to himself and running a hand down his face, Richie forced himself to his feet, muttering, “Yeah, stop being a fucking idiot, Richard.”

He made his way quickly to the dresser he’d nearly killed himself on a second ago and scrambled to find some articles of clean clothing. He really should do more laundry… Fuck all knows, Maggie Tozier couldn’t be bothered with making sure her kid had anything decent to wear.

Richie pulled on a white t-shirt featuring The Cure and some black ripped jeans, tugging on his old, favorite matching hoodie, zipping up the hole-ridden thing. He smiled a little, just imagine what his best friend would say when he saw him adorning the same hoodie once again.

A disaster, That’s what Eds had called it last time he’d seen it on Richie. You’re wearing a fucking disaster, Richie.

A grin still on his lips, Richie quickly made his way downstairs only to meet his father in the kitchen where he’d intended to quickly make some toast for the road. He tried to spin on his heel to avoid the man but was immediately called back.

Sighing, he turned around, “What can I do for you, Daddy-o?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Wentworth barked, making Richie flinch involuntarily and immediately flush in embarrassment for doing so. “I need you to actually be home tonight. Be responsible for once, you know? Your mother’s sick—“

Richie snorted and was smacked hard in the ear by his glaring father.

“Sorry.” The boy mumbled half-heartedly.

Wentworth continued, “Your mother’s sick and someone needs to look after her.”

Yeah, someone needs to…just not you, right, Dad?

Richie forced his eyes to stay on his father and not roll back in his head. His ear still stung from being hit a second ago, he wasn’t jonesing for a repeat.

“So, you get your dumbass back here the second that goddamn bell rings. You understand, Richie?”

Richie nodded, a beat later feeling his father’s hand collide with the side of his face once again.

“I said, you understand, dumbass?”

Gritting his teeth, Richie growled out, “I understand.”

Yeah, Richie hated Mondays.

Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too

Eddie sighed and looked worriedly at his wristwatch before glancing at the classroom door once again. It was halfway through the third period on Tuesday and the seat beside him was still empty.

After his best friend had canceled his plans to meet the rest of the Losers at the Aladdin movie theater and then traded his shift at the arcade with one of his co-workers, Eddie had been left understandably confused. Richie was a sucker for classic movies and he loved his job, which was pretty shocking coming from the boy who hated basically any kind of physical labor.

Well, he had started off confused, now he was just plain worried.

Richie hated school, everyone knew that, but he didn’t actually skip too often. It always got back to his parents and Eddie knew Richie’s father wasn’t too forgiving about such offenses. So, no way Richie was skipping. And he’d seemed fine just the day before… Eddie practically had a built-in radar for knowing when someone was getting sick and Richie hadn’t been. He wasn’t missing because of illness.

Eddie was running out of ideas as to why on earth Richie wasn’t sitting next to him in boring ass Chemistry, cracking stupid jokes about how they must be electrons and protons because they were so attracted to each other. Eddie always rolled his eyes at those stupid jokes, never admitting how they really made his heart race, but now he found himself longing to just hear the Trashmouth’s infuriating voice.

Who was he even kidding? Richie’s voice wasn’t infuriating… It was probably one of Eddie’s favorite sounds in the whole world. And he missed it. He missed Richie.

Sighing again, Eddie glanced at the classroom door once more before returning to his notes.

After school Wednesday, when Richie had missed school once again, Eddie drove slowly, almost hesitantly, to the Tozier household. He pulled up to the curb and drummed his fingers against his squeaky-clean steering wheel and looked at the house with apprehension.

Eddie hated going to the Tozier’s.

He hated how sweet, kind, and normal Maggie and Wentworth always acted while he was around, when he’d seen for himself all the damaged the couple could do. He’d seen the frequent bruises, the occasional tears, and the more common than anything else fists slamming against walls and doors.

How dare they look Eddie in eye and pretend they were decent, even good, parents? How dare they when Eddie was the one Richie most often turned to whenever his parents told him to ‘fuck off for a bit’?

Biting his lip, Eddie forced himself out of the car and approached the faded blue front door, paint crumbling away from years of being overlooked. Raising his fist and internally scolding himself for his throat attempting to close, Eddie knocked on the door.

You don’t need your inhaler. You fucking know you don’t need your inhaler. You haven’t for years. Stop being a fucking baby, Kaspbrak. He chanted over and over in his head as he looked down at his white Keds and waited.

Shifting from foot to foot, he glanced around, noted the cars parked in the driveway and knocked again.

After a beat, the door was thrown open and revealed a rough looking Maggie Tozier. Richie looked shockingly unlike her; where she was straight blonde, her son was messy and jet black, as her eyes reflected dull, pale blue irises, her son’s were warm and brown and Eddie’s favorite color probably ever.

Most of all, though, she looked hungover.

She leaned against the frame of the front door and squinted into the bright light of the late afternoon, taking a moment to focus on Eddie’s face. “Ed- Eddie! Right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie muttered, eyebrows drawing together. She had known the boy since he was 5… Twelve fucking years ago. The alcohol must have still been screwing with her head. “I was just wondering if Richie was home? I was, um, just worried since I haven’t seen him at school.”

“Richie?” Maggie echoed, her expression blank for a second before she blinked and smiled, “Richard! Richie! My little boy…”

Your what? Eddie wanted to bark, clenching his fist.

He didn’t think a mother got to call her son that anymore once she’d also told him straight to his face that she wished he’d never been born and that she’d had a daughter instead.

Maggie licked her lips and glanced back into the house before looking back at Eddie, “He can’t play right now.”

“We’re 17,” Eddie noted before he could stop himself, eyebrows knitting together, “We don’t really ‘play’ together anymore, but that’s not the point. I just need — I wanted to see him…” He trailed off, cheeks flushing as he heard how his own words sounded.

Too clingy, too needy, too much more than friendly.

Maggie’s eyes narrowed for a moment and Eddie was absolutely sure she had heard it too. He wanted to pull the words back in, rephrase himself, not risk his stupid slip-up causing more trouble for Richie.

When Richie’s mother spoke next, her tone was cold, “He can’t come to the door.”

And then she slammed that pale blue door in Eddie’s face, not giving him time to try and articulate himself again.

Eddie’s stomach twisted painfully and he felt sick as his chest began to ache. It wasn’t the ache of his panic attacks that he’d thought for so long were asthma; no, it was something else entirely. An ache like a wound, like a punch to his lungs.

No, not his lungs… maybe to his heart? An ache like someone had gripped it and was squeezing too tightly.

Numbly, with the world around him appearing only in varying shades of grey, Eddie Kaspbrak walked back to his car and begrudgingly drove away, feeling a little like he was leaving a part of himself behind in the Tozier household.

Thursday I don't care about you

Richie slammed his locker shut so hard on Thursday morning, several heads in the hallway whirled around to give him perplexed looks. His knuckles turned white as he clutched his economics textbook in one hand and balled a fist in his hoodie pocket in the other. Yup, back in the disaster of a hoodie and he couldn’t give a fuck.

Hearing familiar footfalls approaching him hurriedly from behind, Richie squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that Eddie and his spotless Keds would just go away.

Richie couldn’t do it today. Not that Thursday.

He wasn’t so lucky, though, as a small hand grabbed at his arm. He could feel the familiar cold fingers of poor circulation through the holes in the sleeves of the black hoodie, his gray Queen t-shirt doing him no favors to prevent the physical contact.

Richie considered jerking his arm away and walking on, but this was Eddie, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

So, instead, he stopped, waiting for the smaller boy to round on him.

“What the hell, Richie? Where have you—“ Eddie stopped dead, taking in Richie’s appearance in full. He paled and Richie bit down hard on his lip, sighing as he looked off to the side. “Wh-what happened to you?”

Eddie, without thinking, reached up and traced his fingers gently over the bruised skin under Richie’s right eye, down to the split lip on the opposite side. Even though the other boy barely touched him, Richie still cringed away and took a step back while forcing a lazy, bored smile.

“Nothing, Eds. Don’t have a fucking panic attack.” It was a low blow and Richie knew it but he really hadn’t wanted to deal with Eddie in the first place so…

“Nothing?” Eddie barked, incredulously, for once ignoring the nickname that had rolled off Richie’s tongue without a second thought.

Richie shrugged and nodded, only pissing his best friend off more.

“You missing school for days, being unable to even come to the door to talk to me yesterday, and now showing up with a black eye and split lip?! And that’s just nothing?!”

Richie scowled at the linoleum floor before leveling his gaze with Eddie’s, eyes still cold. “Yeah, I fucking guess so.”

“You guess so?!” Eddie howled, turning more heads in the hallway. Richie looked around and shuffled in place for a moment, for once being the one to wish for silence. “Richie, tell me what happened? Was it—“ He cut himself off but his look said it all.

Was it your Dad?

Richie groaned, looking toward the ceiling in exasperation. He just wanted the conversation to be over. He didn’t want to fucking talk about it. He never wanted to talk about it and Eddie was always pushing, picking, asking for more than Richie ever wanted to give.

And maybe any other day, any other Thursday, Richie would have given his best friend what he wanted. But not that fucking Thursday.

Harshly, Richie pushed past the smaller boy, knocking him a bit to the side. “Stop being a fucking drama queen, Eddie. I have class.”

The Trashmouth could feel Eddie’s eyes on him all the way until he rounded to corner but he didn’t look back. He didn’t have to to know what he’d see; Eddie looking confused, angry, and hurt. He didn’t want to see that… and not that he really cared, but he did have class.

Richie told himself that he cared even less about Eddie’s nagging and micromanaging and nitpicking. In fact, he even didn’t care about Eddie Kaspbrak’s opinion. If he did and he did so too much, he knew it would just end in him getting smacked around some more.

He could still hear his mother’s disgusted tone from last night, could hear the echo of his father’s taunts as the man laid into him once again, even more aggressive and angry than ever before.

It started as soon as his Mom had closed to door in Eddie’s face...

Maggie turned on her heel, glaring when she found her son watching the interaction from the kitchen doorway. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Raising her voice in a squeaky attempt to mock Eddie, she said, “‘I just need to see him!’,” She dropped back into her usual harsh tone, “You know your little friend’s a fairy, right?”

Richie did actually. Eddie’d been out to the Losers’ since they were Freshman, still, he didn’t appreciate his mother’s cruel moniker for his best friend. His jaw clenched and he rolled his eyes, “So what if he is?”

“So what?“ Maggie shook her head, crossing the hallway until she was right in Richie’s personal space with a look of utter revulsion. “So what, Richard? So, you shouldn’t be keeping company with the likes of him. You might catch it.”

“Catch it?” Richie echoed, looking at his mother like she’d grown a second head. “You can’t fucking catch queer, Mom. If Eddie is then he was fucking born that way. It’s not a damn disease, just how some people are.”

“You sayin’ it’s how you are?” His mother hissed, glaring at him suspiciously.

Richie shifted under her gaze and knew full well that was the wrong thing to do. He wasn’t gay, he knew he wasn’t. He just happened to like boys about as much as he liked girls… Bisexual was what Bev had told him was the new, modern term for it.

But Maggie Tozier would never understand that. She wouldn’t even try because she didn’t care enough about him to see things from his side. She hadn’t in a long time.

Richie knew he had to say something, heart pounding his ears and clenched fists sweating, “No.”

“You sure? Because you seem awfully protective of your little fairy friend.” Maggie asked, eyes still narrowed.

“Because he’s my fucking best friend, Mom. You know that.” He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I’ve known him since I was still eating sand on the playground.”

Maggie stared at him for a long time and even though Richie was now much taller than his mother, he still felt like a scolded child under her withering gaze. He wondered if he’d ever get over that or if it was some instinct in him he’d never be able to kick just because she was the one who’d popped him out into the world.

“Wentworth!”

Richie’s heart dropped and he silently squeezed his eyes shut, cursing his mother. After a moment, he heard heavy footsteps thundering down the steps. If his heart had been pounding before, it now felt like it might beat right out of his chest.

“Goddammit, Maggie, what!? I have a job to do, you know? One I need if you’re going to keep drink us out of house and home!”

Richie opened his eyes as his father stepped into the kitchen, looking between his son and wife with a red, livid face. Well, that was just great, Daddy Dearest was already in a sour mood.

Maggie crossed her arms over her chest and kept her scrutiny focused solely on her boy, “Sonia’s boy came by, asking for this dumbass. You know, Went, the fairy? He was practically falling over himself, saying he just needed to see Richard, like he was in love with him or something.”

She spat the last bit like it was poison on her tongue and Richie’s face burned.

Eddie wasn’t in love with anyone, let alone Richie Tozier. He was just a decent human being, a good guy, and a great friend. Something Maggie obviously couldn’t fucking comprehend.

Still, she ranted on, her words growing more and more disgusting in Richie’s ears with every syllable, “And you know what I think, Went? I think Richard here might be just as queer as that little sicko.”

He hated her. Fuck the fact that she was his mother, that she’d given him life or fucking whatever. He hated her more than anything in the world in that moment.

Little sicko? Eddie wasn’t sick. He was wonderful. He was the best of humanity and he didn’t deserve judgment from scum the likes of Maggie Tozier.

Before his trashmouth could even voice any of these thoughts, his father was inches from his face, breathing down at him like an angry bull. Richie was ashamed of how his gut still twisted in fear. He was so tired of being afraid in his own fucking house, of his own fucking father.

Wentworth grounded out three short words, “That true, Richard?”

Some spark of either courage or idiocy ignited to life in Richie’s chest and without thinking, he shrugged and said, “Maybe it is.”

His ear rang as his father’s fist came up to clobber him there. Wentworth grabbed the collar of his son’s t-shirt, pulling him roughly forward so that the boy nearly tripped over his awkwardly long legs.

Richie swallowed, staring his father back down.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said,” Richie answered slowly as if trying to explain something to a struggling toddler, “Maybe it is, as in maybe I am just as queer as Eddie.” He emphasized the name, sending his mother a look over his father’s shoulder.

She just glared back.

He looked back at his shaking father with a rebellious smirk on his lips, “Maybe I am gay.”

In the next moment, a fist connected hard with his smirking lips and he tasted blood. It might have been a busted tooth or just a busted lip, no way of knowing in that instant. Richie barely managed to cover his mouth and yelp in pain before his father hit him again, harder, in the eye.

He stumbled back, tripping over the legs of a kitchen table chair and falling back on to his ass. Looking up at his father with nothing but contempt, even as his eye swelled, he spat blood on to his mother’s favorite tile flooring and grinned. Blood coated his teeth, making him look manic and a little crazy but he didn’t care.

He was so fucking tired of being afraid. It felt good to not care for once.

It was short-lived, as all good things in life seemed to be. Except maybe Eddie Kaspbrak; he seemed pretty long term in the scheme of Richie’s existence.

Wentworth stepped forward in a flash and kicked Richie hard in the side, enough force to knock all the air from the boy’s lungs. Tears stung Richie’s eyes as he coughed and instinctually tried to crawl back, but it was no use. His father’s foot connected again and again and one more time with his ribcage before the man seemed to think he’d learned his lesson.

Leaving their son on the kitchen floor, Maggie and Wentworth went back to whatever the fuck they’d been doing previously as if nothing had happened. As if Maggie hadn’t hurtled insult after insult and Went hadn’t nearly broken his own child’s ribs.

Richie deserved it, after all, didn’t he? For being sick, for being a freak, a fairy. For actually giving a damn about another boy; a wonderful, god-sent boy who was one of the few people that made Richie feel like he even mattered at all.

Yeah, he deserved a good smacking around for that.

He was so fucking done with getting smacked around.

It's Friday, I'm in love

Eddie was stubborn. It was a trait so firmly built into his personality that at this point in his life, he’d stopped trying to deny it. He was stubborn, he just was and nothing was going to change that.

Not even Richie goddamn Tozier being a complete asshole to him.

Honestly, Richie was kind of always an asshole, but this was different.

Normally, the Trashmouth took things too far almost accidentally because he simply didn’t have a filter and when called out by his friends, he was as close to apologetic as he would ever be. He even actually said sorry out loud now and then these days, since they were a little older and just slightly more mature.

Normally, Richie didn’t actively try to be an asshole, he just was. Insanely, it was almost endearing to Eddie, something he found himself actually liking Richie even more, not inspire of, but because of.

Though, if Eddie was being completely honest with himself, he knew full well that all of Richie’s flaws and quirks were at the core of why he liked him so much to begin with. Maybe even more than liked him…

Definitely more than liked him, fuck him.

Friday rolled around and Eddie was more relieved to reach the end of the week than ever before.

Which was ironic since he actually liked school… well, maybe not school but he did like to learn and be educated. It sometimes felt like the only thing he just simply excelled at. He sucked at sports, having no hand-eye coordination, he couldn’t run worth a shit, still prone to panic attacks that showed up as fake asthma, but at least he could get top marks in all his classes, dammit.

But this week had been shit and he was definitely ready for it to be over.

Friday night, Eddie sat alone in his room while he tried to get a leg up on studying for his upcoming Pre-Calculus test in a week and a half. Africa by Toto played throughout the bedroom, probably too loud if his mother was asked but he didn’t really care. The music helped him concentrate, pushed through the muddled mess that was his over-analytical brain to get to the root of things.

He was humming along absentmindedly, nodding his head to the beat, when a tiny plink pulled him out of his mathematic stupor. Looking up from his notes, Eddie glanced around for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing, he reluctantly returned to his work.

Thunk.

Again, that noise, only harsher and louder this time. Eddie stood up, now sure it was coming from his window. Eyebrows knitting together, he slowly crossed his room, waiting for—

Thud.

This time, Eddie saw the rock hit the glass pane and jumped a bit. Goddammit, what dumbass was throwing fucking boulders at his window? It was going to bust if anything heavier got thrown at it.

The second he asked himself that question, he already knew the answer.

Quickly, Eddie rushed over and slid the damn thing open, sticking his head out in the chilly twilight air. Just as he’d known there would be, a disaster of a boy stood near the foundation of his house right underneath his window.

“Hey Eds,” Richie called up, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mind a little chit-chat?”

“Not like this, dipshit,” Eddie called back. He saw Richie’s shoulders slump and quickly added, “But if you get your ass up here, I wouldn’t mind.”

Richie looked back up, moving his neck so quickly Eddie couldn’t help but think about how the idiot had probably just given himself whiplash. He was smiling again and this time it actually made Eddie’s chest burn in that weirdly pleasant way that he both feared and craved.

As Richie began to climb up Sonia’s old trellis that never had flowers on it anymore, Eddie moved back into his room and looked around. Everything was in its place, as always, and Madonna’s Borderline had replaced the Toto. It would have to do since he didn’t exactly have time to change anything up.

He whirled around when he heard Richie clambering in through the window and bit down hard on his lip so as to not laugh when the other boy’s oversized foot caught on the sill, sending him sprawling across Eddie’s bedroom floor.

Giggling lightly, Eddie went to help pull Richie up only to let him fall back to the floor upon hearing his mother’s voice calling from down the hall.

“Eddie Bear? What was that thud? Are you okay?”

The boys stared at each other, wide-eyed, as Eddie pressed a finger to his lips and prayed that for once Richie Tozier could keep his fucking trap closed. Calling back, Eddie knew he sounded a little obvious, “I’m fine, Mommy!”

He cringed as Richie slapped a hand over his own mouth to muffle his laughter. Eddie flipped him off before continuing, “D-dropped a textbook, that’s all. Absolutely nothing else going on in here! I swear!”

Richie gave him a look that clearly said And I’m the one who can’t shut up?

Eddie ignored him and waited for his mother’s response.

“Okay, if you’re sure. You know I’m just in my room if you need me.” Sonia emphasized and Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Yeah, Mom, I know!”

There was the shuffle of footsteps and the creaking of Sonia Kaspbrak’s bedroom door before both boys let out sighs of relief.

Richie finally jumped up to his feet and reach out to pinch Eddie’s cheek, “You’re so damn cute when you try to lie, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” He mumbled, before shoving Richie’s hand away. Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned to his best friend as the other boy took a seat on his pristine bed. Raising his eyebrows, he said, “So, you wanted to talk?”

“Chit-chat,” Richie corrected, pointing into nothingness. Eddie rolled his eyes at the completely unnecessary clarification before raising his eyebrows at his friend, gesturing for him to get on with it.

Richie sighed and patted at the thighs of his jeans. Eddie noted he was bouncing one of his legs like he always did when he had too much pent up energy in his veins… so pretty much all the time. Richie never stopped moving, it was just another one of his many quirks.

“I—I’m sor—“ Richie’s voice cracked a little and he cringed, clearing his throat, “I’m such an asshole, aren’t I, Eds?”

Eddie shrugged, leaning back against his bookcase and taking in all of Richie. “I’m pretty used to it.”

Richie nodded, beginning to pick the sleeves of that god awful dark hoodie he always fucking wore.

Eddie groaned and moved forward to swat at his hands, “Stop! That thing’s enough of a disaster without you picking at the holes and making everything worse.”

The music changed again, temporarily drawing both of the boy’s attention. Richie quirked an eyebrow, “The Cure? Thought you hated rock?”

Eddie shrugged, “Some of the shit you play isn’t the worse…”

“Just not quite Cyndi Lauper, though, right?”

“Shut up, Tozier.”

Silence fell between them and after a few minutes of just listening to Friday, I’m in Love, Eddie sighed in annoyance, “Well, are you gonna talk, Trashmouth or—“

“You literally just told me to shut up!”

“When have you ever done what I told you to do?! So, spit it out or go home. I don’t really care either way since you’ve been a grade A dick to me lately…”

Richie groaned, “Yeah, I know I have. I just—“

He stopped and Eddie waited again. After another few seconds passed in silence before the hypochondriac threw his hands up, “Yup, you need to go. This is so fucking dumb. Just go home—“

“I can’t, okay?” Richie snapped, taking Eddie by surprise. A second later he repeated himself, voice quieter, “I can’t.”

Everything easily clicked into place in Eddie’s brain. Of course, Richie couldn’t go home, he thought while looking at the lingering bruise under his friend’s warm brown eye. If he went home, a black eye would probably seem like light punishment.

“Okay,” Was all Eddie said, slowly making his way back across the room to sit beside Richie on the bed.

Swallowing, he moved close enough for their shoulders to brush. An unspoken reminder that he was right there whenever Richie was ready for… whatever he needed to be ready for.

Finally, after much more fiddling on Richie’s part and much more patience on Eddie’s, the former spoke up, “You’re pretty fucking smart, you know that, Eds?”

Eddie didn’t know exactly how to respond. Richie’s compliments always sounded like they were doubling as jokes but this time was different. There was a hesitance and uncertainty that even Eddie wasn’t familiar with from Richie Tozier.

Luckily Richie didn’t wait for the words he didn’t seem able to find, continuing on as he traced over his split lip, “You were right that it was him, my jackass of a father. He smacked me around a bit the other night.”

Eddie cringed and was thankful Richie wasn’t looking at him, as he knew how the boy hated anything that could be seen as pity. “Why would he do that?”

Richie looked off into the bedroom, looking over Eddie’s color-coded math notes still out on his desk, the boy’s out-of-date stereo set up that he wouldn’t upgrade no matter how many times Richie told him to, all the polos and oversized t-shirts hung up the closet nook. Being surrounded by all the Eddie made Richie finally begin to relax, the bouncing of his knee slowing just a little.

“He doesn’t seem to need a particular reason most days but…” The lanky teenage shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, “Probably because I said that I might be gay?”

“You wh-what?!” Eddie exclaimed, jumping up and whirling on his friend, “But you’re — you know — not!”

“Debatable,” Richie countered, lazily.

“No, it’s fucking not!” Eddie said, incredulously.

Richie raised his finger to point at Eddie, “I think I’m a little gay, Eds. I think everyone knows already that I’m a little gay. I mean, yeah, I like chicks but I’m definitely into dick too.”

“That makes you bisexual, asshole. Not gay. I’m—“ Eddie stopped, eyes flickering to his bedroom door as he lowered his voice, thoughts going to his mother just down the hall. “I’m gay.”

“I know you are,” Richie said, eyebrows drawing together as he became suddenly thoughtful. “And there’s nothing wrong with that, Eds.”

Eddie was taken aback, glancing away from his best friend and shifting awkwardly, “Yeah, I — uh — know that, Richie.”

“Well, not everyone does.” The boy scowled at the ground. “Like my stupid fucking parents. They said dumb shit, Eds, and I just—“

“Couldn’t shut the fuck up?” Eddie finished.

Richie looked up at him, smirking, “You know me too well, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie couldn’t even be bothered to scold him for the nickname, shrugging, “Comes with being friends twelve years, right?”

“Right,” Richie nodded, “Friends.”

There was something almost… bitter in Richie’s tone. No, maybe not bitter but certainly something else, something that felt important for Eddie to distinguish. His palms began to sweat and he swallowed, wiping them on his shorts.

He opened his mouth to try and say anything but nothing came.

Richie had already looked away, anyway…

“My mom called you a fairy, a sicko too, and it just—“ He huffed, forming a fist and biting his shaking knuckle. “I hated her so much right then because you’re not, Eddie! You’re not sick, you’re just you.”

“Really, Richie, your Mom calling me names isn’t worth you getting your ass handed to you by your Dad. I know I’m not sick. Maybe I didn’t always but I do now and you shouldn’t have…” Eddie trailed off, gesturing to his best friend’s battered face.

“The hell I shouldn’t have!” Richie jumped to his feet. “What else could I do? Let her talk about you like that? Like you were dirt? Like something is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know!” Eddie snapped, “Yeah, maybe, you should have just let her, Richie. Then you wouldn’t be hurt! I hate it when you’re—“

He slammed his mouth shut along with his eyes, counting to ten in his head.

Only Richie could get him this angry, this mixed up and scattered. Make him so flustered and worried that he almost said too much, said the words he wouldn’t be able to pull back. And then what would he do?

“Getting yourself hurt for me is fucking dumb.” Eddie finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, well, my Dad pretty clearly told me just how fucking dumb I am while he was beating the shit out of me, so…” Richie glowered. His eyes flickered to Eddie’s window. “Maybe I should just—“

“Don’t even think about it, Tozier. You wanted to talk — sorry, chit-chat — so you’re not leaving until we fucking chit chat, asshole.” Eddie snapped, stepping forward to shove a finger into Richie’s chest, “You didn’t climb through my window to complain about your shitty parents and you didn’t come to tell me you’re bi or whatever, so stop bitching and just say what you came to say!”

“I don’t know what that is!” Richie argued, his voice strained. “Okay? I don’t know! All I know is that I didn’t fucking want to go back to them and you,” He paused, faltered, and then pressed on, “You’re the first person I thought about going to.”

Eddie’s arms dropped to his sides as he looked up at Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier, the boy who was never serious, who was never ever genuine, and still felt his breath catch in his throat. Not in a bad way like his panic attacks or asthma either but in a completely different way.

It made his lungs burn and for the first time, Eddie welcomed the feeling.

“You’re always the first person I think about, Eds,” Richie muttered, looking off the side and shaking his head, “It’s really fucking annoying, actually. I can barely pay attention to shit half the time anyway and then there’s always you just fucking up my focus even more. I fucking hate it, Eds.”

“D-don’t call me that, you know I hate it.”

The flustered words slipped out before Eddie could stop them and he instantly hated himself for them. Here, Richie was saying about the closest he’d ever say to what Eddie really wanted to hear and Eddie was complaining about a stupid goddamn nickname, again?

“I don’t think you do,” Richie said after a minute, looking back into Eddie’s dark eyes. “Just like I don’t actually hate thinking about you all the time, like how I don’t really hate it at all.”

Eddie said nothing for a long time before slowly nodding, “Maybe.”

Then he licked his lips and forced out the words he knew he owed Richie at this point. “I think about you all the time, too, just so you know. Worry about you, too. Way more than I probably should, considering you’re an asshole who spends most of his time practically begging for trouble. And I hate it, too, only I don’t really either.”

Richie stared at him and Eddie thought it was probably the longest time he’d seen the boy go without moving. Shuffling, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut again and finally uttered the words he knew he probably should have said a long time ago.

“I… like you, Richie.” He breathed out, like if he said it too loud everything in his world would crumble and fall apart.

It was quiet for so long that Eddie was forced to peek his eyes open, only to find Richie staring at him just like before. His heart sank and he felt like falling through the floor, through the Earth, and just disappearing for the rest of his goddamn life.

“You know what? Just— just forget it. I didn’t mean—“

Suddenly split lips were crashing against his and awkward, gangly limps were pulling him closer and it couldn’t have felt more right because nothing in all of Eddie’s life could even attempt to compare to this.

Instinctually, his own arms came up to snake around Richie’s neck to make their ridiculous height difference a bit less imposing. Maybe Richie felt the same way, maybe he didn’t but if this moment in time was all Eddie ever got of all the things he’d never dared to want, he thought maybe he’d be okay with that. He thought maybe he could live through that.

As quickly as the kiss had begun, it was over.

However, Richie didn’t move away. He remained exactly as close to Eddie as he’d been for the short-lived lip lock, his eyes still sealed shut. His breath was warm and smelled like dime store mints and nicotine, which was exactly what he had tasted like. It was surprisingly pleasant in Eddie’s opinion.

Eddie swallowed hard, only then realizing just how out of breath he was. Sounding a bit strangled, he began to panic once again, “It—it’s okay, you know if you don’t feel the same way. If this was just whatever this was then that’s okay.”

Richie’s finally opened his eyes and gave Eddie an incredulous look, “You fucking kidding me, Eds? You’re supposed to be the smart one! You think I’d make a move as fucking bold as kissing you if I didn’t fucking like you, too?!”

Eddie shrugged, face turning pink, “I don’t know! Everything’s a joke to you, so I thought maybe—“

“You’re not a joke to me,” Richie argued firmly. “You’re not.”

Numbly, the other boy nodded, “Yeah, I know that now. I’m sorry, I just never thought you could ever like me the way I like you.”

“Honestly, Eds?” Richie muttered, biting his lip like he was nervous. A nervous Richie Tozier became Eddie’s new favorite thing in that moment. “I think I more than like you, you know what I’m saying?”

Eddie nodded again, “Yeah, I think I more than like you, too.”

Richie smiled as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he nodded enthusiastically. “Well, that’s fucking great! Now, we can like make-out, like, all the time!”

“Oh my god,” Eddie muttered, shoving the other boy away, “Why do I even like you?”

“More than like me, Eds. You more than like—!”

This time it was Richie who was silenced with a kiss.

He definitely didn’t hate it.

It’s Friday, I’m in love

#reddie #the losers of ‘89 were here #the losers club #losers club #it (2017)#it: chapter two #revised #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak

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