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chernabogs · 17 days ago

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A Rainy Wandering

Inc: Reader/Malleus (99% platonic but we had to sneak those subtle feelings in there at the end. Love me some two oblivious clowns) Second person POV Warnings: None WC: 1.8k Summary: Er so that new Malleus card, yeah? (Or: hey your bff scheduled in a 4 hour gargoyle tour, are you coming, orrrr...?) Also s.o to Alexandra with her literal Field Guide to Gargoyles and founding of the Gargoyle Appreciation Society. My hero rn for this hope they are thriving.

The campus is shrouded in grey as the rain falls at a steady rate around you. You grip your umbrella with both hands to combat against the gentle tug of the wind as you stand at the end of your dorms long walkway, shifting from side to side on occasion to look at both ends of the road. Behind you, the orange glow of Ramshackles cozy inside beckons to you, promising an escape from the rain in the form of wool blankets and terrible reality television. You’re half tempted to go back, but you staunchly remind yourself that you had made a promise, and you were not someone to fall back on your word.

That being said, your friend is about five minutes late, but you can forgive him. He’s never been good at keeping track of time.

You shift on your heels again as you tilt the umbrella back to look at the grey sky. You last all of two seconds before too many raindrops fall on your face and you look back down, blinking the water out of your eye. The motion lets you take note of a pair of boots standing to your right.

“Oh!” You splutter, moving your umbrella again to look at to whom those boots belong. Malleus stands in a very casual, unassuming manner, his own umbrella in hand and his brow quirked in amusement. “How long have you been standing here for?”

You know the answer to that already—probably just seconds—but Malleus’ lips curl into a secretive smile as he shrugs a shoulder. “Long enough to observe you taking a makeshift wash.”

A sour look is what he gets in turn, although yours always lack venom when it comes to him. A quick glance over his form shows you that he’s come prepared for the weather as well. In addition to his umbrella (which is decorated with gargoyles, to your amusement), he wears a black and purple raincoat, gloves, and has tied his hair back in a looped knot you think you've never seen him wear before. Compared to your yellow rubber boots and yellow raincoat, he looks like he stepped out of a high-fashion shoot.

To serve and observe, apparently, is the agenda for today. You missed that memo.

“I need to tie a bell to your wrist so I know when you’re coming.” You grumble as he steps back to the road, leaving you to fall in line with him. His warm laughter fills the air as you begin the first few legs of the tour he’s been talking about for ages.

“Now, I do think I recall you saying that once before,” he muses, tapping his fingers against the metal gargoyle at his umbrella's base. “You have yet to follow through.”

“I think your students would mob my dorm if I were to try and tie anything to you. Maybe I should just put an alarm on your phone instead—as long as you don’t break it again.”

Often this would earn you a look of mock hurt, but Malleus seems far too jubilant at the moment to care about the subtle read you’re giving him. He’s smiling away, as happy as can be as he walks by your side. He even has a little bounce in his step. It almost makes you want to laugh at the sight; how can anyone call him intimidating when he’s looking like a child about to get a present?

“Ah, yes, yes. I have been diligent in keeping my devices in check. Shroud has been of much help in that.” His gaze darts around the campus until he loops his arm with yours and pulls you swiftly to the right. You’re pliant to his guidance, only sighing in response as you let him pull you wherever he sees fit. This is something you’ve come to realize about the nature of your relationship with the prince. Malleus is a chronic wanderer, tending to just go off wherever he wishes, but he’s also mildly codependent. Since you two had firmly established that you are friends—hell, you gave the man a friendsgiving card—everywhere Malleus drifts off to, he takes you like a tether.

“Ah! Our first stop on our tour,” he begins, still brimming with energy. He tries to move his umbrella, only to have it collide with yours in the process. “Actually, before we begin, would you be so kind as to close your umbrella? We can use mine.”

You lean back to look up at your friend incredulously. At well over 6 feet, horns excluded, you doubt that you will remain dry for long should Malleus shield you both with his umbrella. He stares back both unwavering and with expectation in his look. You purse your lips. He raises an eyebrow. You lean back a bit, he replicates the action, his gaze looking you up and down. Daring you.

Oh, girl.

After a second of silent staring with a dash of attitude that the man rarely shows anyone else, you huff a sigh and close your umbrella, scooting closer to him once you do. His expression lights up as you roll your eyes, and he resumes his tangent.

“Thank you, my dear friend. Now, as I was saying, our first stop on our tour! If you direct your attention upwards you will see what is aptly called a screamer gargoyle. The positioning of its body—with hands behind its head and its mouth agape—is meant to remind those who witness it that torment lay ahead if they fail to fulfill a particular purpose. You may see these on the cathedrals in numerous nations, as they were quite popular to evoke terror in worshippers.”

You scoot forward to look past the edge of the umbrella at the gargoyle in particular. True to Malleus’ word, the carved figure looks as though it’s screaming in agony, its eyes directed upwards, and its body bent at an angle. You smirk a little.

“Kind of looks like Ace and Deuce during exams.”

Malleus hums thoughtfully. “Perhaps that is why they put one on a school ground. To remind students of the torment they will endure should they neglect studying and strike deals for grades instead.”

“So mean,” you chastise, even though you were the one to start this train of thought. The two of you continue your trail along the main road. Malleus keeps your arms firmly linked together as he chatters on, stopping on occasion to point out a particularly significant gargoyle, or a grotesque lined against the wall. You reckon this is the most your friend has talked in a while, considering his need to stop and clear his throat with an apology.

You also consider that this is probably one of few times that he’s managed to rope someone into a walk with him like this. Out of the joy his joy seems to bring you, you prompt him with several questions as you tour about, doing your best to remember the info dumping you’re being subjected to. A slip up of calling a grotesque a gargoyle by mistake, which earned you a verbal berating in the gentlest of manners, was enough to make you pay closer attention.

As the rain begins to lighten and the sun valiantly fights to break free, the two of you come to a stop in one of the courtyard areas of the main building. You fish out a granola bar from your pocket as Malleus holds the umbrella, offering him half of it before you look around at the building. There aren’t as many gargoyles here as the other areas, save for one impressive dragon carving looming over the courtyard entrance. You gesture to it in silence, your mouth too full of chocolate and granola to speak. Fortunately, Malleus has become more then attuned to your gestures to know what you’re saying—another reward of your friendship.

“That is one of the older gargoyles present on the campus. Considering that the courtyard we are standing in served as part of the original residence, I would wager that the initial owner of the lands commissioned this.” Malleus taps the base of the umbrella again as he tilts it back to look upwards. A few stray raindrops hit his cheek, making his brow furrow as he inspects the moss-covered structure. He’s looking at the gargoyle, while you’re looking at the expressions he’s pulling. “Most people surmise that the selection of a dragon was done to evoke fear in opponents who may try to take these lands, but I’m of the mindset that it was done to symbolize the wisdom and guardianship the owners held over their subjects. Dragons are, after all, quite wise.”

“So the dragon says.” You reply teasingly as you look at the statue. He’s right to guess that it’s certainly the oldest one you’ve seen. The stone is aged and slightly cracked along the edges. You know that Malleus has a habit of carving statues himself, and you wonder if he’s ever considered trying to repair it. Given his love for all things crumbling and ancient, however, you also wager that the thought of rebuilding something that time has claimed is well against his personal morals.

“My assessment is free of bias, Prefect.” He counters with a mockingly scolding tone to his voice. You know it to be in jest by the way his eyes remain alight with joy. He really is infectious when he’s in a good mood, dangerously so, and a part of you wishes he could stay this way consistently instead of sliding back to the quiet, brooding form he can be when he’s feeling temperamental.

You scrunch up the granola wrapper before shoving it in your pocket with a shake of your head. “Oh yes, definitely no projecting going on here.”

“I will leave you out in this rain.” He warns, tilting the umbrella so that you’re out of its cover. You yelp in protest and duck back underneath, practically squishing yourself against him to keep from doing that again.

“You like me too much to do that!” You argue back as you grip the umbrella handle yourself. He breaks his facade of sternness to laugh as his arm comes around you to rest on your back. The act feels far too natural for the first time he’s ever done it, yet you acquiesce regardless. “Besides, who else will finish this loop with you? Silver is training with Sebek and Lilia is off… well. Doing whatever he pleases.”

Another thoughtful hum vibrates in Malleus’ chest, which you can feel considering the proximity of your bodies in this moment. A sudden awareness strikes you that makes you feel a bit awkward about it all. Out of reflex you nudge his waist with your arm, prompting him to give you some more space.

“I suppose you have me there,” he notes, granting you a half smile as he looks down to your irate expression. He offers you the crook of his arm, and you silently oblige by linking it with yours. He tugs you a bit closer this time around as he beckons to the courtyard exit. “Let us continue, then. I would say we have another hour at least. Oh, I do hope you’re as excited as I am for what’s to come.”

#twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #he pulls up while ur looking like a duck asking if ur ready for a 4 hr hike wyd #anyway total vomit on this page i just got hyper locked in over his card sorryyyy #twst fanfiction #twst x reader #malleus x reader

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covetyou · 8 months ago

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the howler monkey

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Mature (18+ only!) warnings: no smut but some nudity, implied drug use/addiction, little bit silly, mildly angsty, performance anxiety, screaming, Dieter Bravo's soft cock. basically mild hurt/comfort/fluff with my usual bit of silliness. word count: 2.8k summary: You got him here, he was safely tucked away upstairs and everything was going, mostly, according to plan. So, who the fuck is screaming?

A/N: For the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot Club March Server Challenge - you're unhinged and I love you all. Dieter would be so, so proud of us. Circus mention in honour of Clown!Dieter.

TROPE: Only one bed and forced proximity PROMPT: "You're going to get us arrested." "Oh, I've always liked the idea of you in handcuffs."

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On days like this, getting Dieter Bravo out of the house was more like wrangling an overtired toddler than it was dealing with a full grown man. At least, you assumed it was. You didn't have a toddler for reference, but you did have a Dieter and, sometimes, that felt worse. He stalled and delayed for so long that by the time you finally - finally - got him out of the door, it was quite literally a race to get the the airport.

The flight hadn't been much different, having to practically drag him through the terminal with head down and sunglasses on to cram him into his window seat. Truth be told, you didn't know why you were flying with him anyway, only to fly back later tonight. Still, as long as it wasn't your money on the line, what Dieter wanted, Dieter got.

But now it was done. You got him here relatively unscathed, all things considered, and Dieter had been deposited in his room, ready to get a full nights beauty sleep before the press descended and the festival opened. All that was left to do was check in with his publicist and you'd be on your way back home, where you couldn't wait to crawl into bed and have a few blissful days to yourself.

So, as is the natural way with these things, it's when you're just finishing up with his publicist in the back of the bar that it all starts. It's nothing but a few strained looks from the hotel staff to begin with.

Then the phones start ringing. Every single one.

And when the phones can't be answered quick enough, hotel guests start crowding around the lobby, whispering amongst themselves about the screaming.

The screaming.

And your blood turns cold. Because it's not. It couldn't be. He wouldn't.

The publicist pays no attention, continuing swiping through his phone and yammering away. Not your circus, not your monkeys, you try to think to yourself as the lobby just gets busier and busier.

But then the hotel manager rushes in, sickly sweet smile plastered on his face, Dieter's publicist blissfully unaware as he stares down at his phone, looking at schedules and interview times and literally anything but the chaos evolving around you.

"Excuse me? Excuse me," he's saying, wringing his hands together as he approaches the table. "You're with Mr. Bravo?"

His publicist doesn't even bother looking up, simply nodding as you stare, open mouthed, into the lobby.

"It seems we have... a bit of a problem," he whispers with wide eyes. "Mr. Bravo is uh... well, screaming. It's disturbing the other guests. I'm afraid if he doesn't stop we're going to have to ask him to leave or call the police."

Well, shit. This is your circus, and that is your monkey in particular.

You're swiping the extra key card out of his hand and making your way out of the bar and into the packed lobby as quick as you can while his publicist sits there, arguing that Dieter would never (he would), that he was quiet (he wasn't), and so it couldn't possibly be him (it absolutely could).

The elevator feels so slow, the whirl of gears and an unseen mechanism pulling you up and up, as you ascend the many floors of the hotel. Then, in a blink and with another creak the doors are about to pull themselves open, and you swear you can hear it already.

The fucking screaming.

You're running now, the elevator doors barely open before you're squeezing through them, not caring for the noise you make as you thud heavily down the hallway. What would a little extra noise matter when there's someone screaming blue murder inside one of the hotel rooms.

Tapping the card, the lock on room 819 illuminates green and you're throwing open the door, the screams having subsided for a moment, and shutting yourself inside and trying to catch your breath.

Aside from the silence, it's dark. That's the first thing you notice. The second thing you notice is Dieter Bravo is nowhere to be seen, even in the dim light creeping around the window.

"Dee... Dieter?" you whisper into the darkness, hoping beyond hope that he's not here and he hasn't been screaming for the past fifteen minutes.

A small, hoarse voice floats toward you from much further away than you'd expect him to be able to be given the size of the room, "Who is it?"

"Dieter? It's me. What the fuck is going on? Where are you?" you loud whisper into the hotel room, running your fingertips across the wall as you creep forward. From what you can tell it looks the same as when you left him here. Nothing is wrecked or overturned, and he hasn't had another sudden burst of artistic inspiration - the walls look the same as they did when you shut the door to Dieter looking forlornly out of the window to the city below.

"What do you mean?" comes the muffled voice. It's closer now, but you still can't see him. There's no lump on the bed, no one sat in the chair, and he's not lying spread eagle on the floor.

"Dieter, where the fuck are you?!"

He sighs, and you hear a slap, like the sound of a hand hitting a flat, solid surface. "Under here, numbnuts."

You take another step forward, peaking under the desk, seeing no sign of Dieter. Turning toward the bed, you try to find somewhere else to look under to find wherever Dieter has stashed himself when you see it.

Two bare legs sticking out from under the bed, the end of his soft green robe just poking out from beneath the frame.

"Dee... what is going on, why are you under there? There was screaming, they think it's coming from in here."

Dieter's silence is all you need to confirm it was indeed coming from in here, from him. Pinching your nose, you ready yourself for whatever he's going to throw at you this time.

"Why are you screaming?"

"Come under here."

"Dieter, no, it's disgusting under there, they don't clean these -"

"I'll tell you if you come under here."

"No, I know this is a nice hotel, but the floors are still filth-"

Dieter cuts you off, a loud scream ripping out of his chest and rattling around your head at a frequency that makes you feel like your skull is about to burst. It must hurt, is all you can think, his throat must be raw and his mouth dry. Panic sets in - hearing a scream like that will do that to a person, you suppose. You panic not just because it must hurt, but because if there was one thing you knew, despite Dieter Bravo's flair for dramatics, he wasn't a man to scream for no reason. And, as much as you hate to admit it, you can't help but think down to Dieter's publicist likely still sat in the bar - Dieter will be impossible to interview tomorrow if you don't stop him soon, and that's if he's even allowed to stay in the hotel much longer.

So, you do the only thing you know how to do when a metaphorical fire in the shape of Dieter Bravo threatens to burn everything down. You throw yourself over it and hope for the best.

"DEE! DIETER! OKAY, OKAY!" you shout, trying not to grimace as you get on your hands and knees to crawl under the cramped space under the bed, ignoring the grit and dust already on your palms.

"Fuck. Shit, Dieter. Ow." You're wedged under there with him now, ass sticking up in the air as you cram your upper body under the bed frame. You can see the vague shape of him under here, a Dieter shaped profile visible in front of you as he stares blankly up at the underside of the bed.

"What's wrong with you?" you ask, somewhat breathlessly, only to watch Dieter tense up at your words. Shit. You didn't mean it like that, and you certainly didn't say it like that either, but before you can take it back and apologize, he beats you to it.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with me," he says in a voice so much smaller and quieter now that your head is right beside his.

"Sorry. Look, I didn't - I meant, why are you screaming, Dee. They said they'd have to kick you out or call the cops. You're going to get us arrested."

"Arrested, huh?" he says thoughtfully, turning to look over at you. "I've always liked the idea of you in handcuffs."

"No, Dieter," you say, and even though you know he can't see you, you roll your eyes in the dark anyway.

Dieter's sigh is so big it picks up errant dust swirls it around under the bed. The urge to swipe at your nose is strong but you resist, knowing from the state of things and the chalky feeling of your palms that it'll only make things worse.

"I'm nervous," he finally says, and that's all you needed to hear.

His face is turned toward the underside of the bed when you crawl backwards. It takes a moment for him to notice, but as soon as he does he's whimpering and taking in a breath big enough that you know he's going to scream again. But you're not leaving, and instead you roll onto your back with an oof and slide yourself under the bed to look up into the nothing with Dieter.

You think back to other times he'd been like this. Too scared to perform, anxiety taking root, frightening him off into some dark quiet corner of a set or his house. You'd found him in his closet once, the only thing apparently capable of coaxing him out was watching you unbutton your shirt a little more because you'd gotten so hot sitting in the stifling little room with him. When he'd finally made his way out, it had been with his eyes glued to the extra patch of skin you'd uncovered and the trickle of sweat dripping down your chest.

Dark as it was, visual distractions wouldn't work this time.

"How many times do you have exactly the same thoughts, and how many times does everything turn out okay anyway? You're good at this, Dieter. You're going to be amazing tomorrow, just like you always are, and I'm not saying that to pressure you to perform, but just because you are. You're amazing."

"Yeah, right," he scoffs, slapping a hand dramatically down on the floor again with a grunt.

"I'm serious. You have a lot to be proud of."

"A lot to not be proud of too."

"Well, you know what to do about that."

"I'm not going to rehab."

"I've never told you to."

Dieter sighs again, because you were right. You had never told him to go to rehab. You never would. It didn't feel like your place to - you were only his assistant. He knows this and you think - know - that sometimes he'd like for you to just tell him to get it together and go, but you don't. "I know."

You don't know how long you both lie there in silence and darkness after that, softly exchanging breaths under the bed. You do know it's long enough for your mind to wander back down to the bar and all the people now going about their evenings. It's not lost on you that no one came in to check on him before you. That now that he'd been silent for several minutes, no one had bothered to knock on the door to see if he was okay. None of them cared, not really. You knew that and, worse of all, Dieter knew that. The people here didn't care about him unless he was being a shiny, glitzy movie star who could say and do the right things in front of the cameras.

Scuffling feet alert you to his movement as Dieter move shuffles toward you, his head colliding gently with the side of yours. You make no effort to move and neither does he, choosing instead to lean his head against yours and rest it there.

The signs are obvious then. The small weave of his head as his eyes track invisible shapes in the dark. The twitch in his fingers, the bounce of his foot. He'd been a mess all day, you can see that now, and whatever he had taken since getting here was somehow making it better and worse all at once.

"How much have you taken this time?"

His breath catches, caught doing something he said he wouldn't do, not here, not this time. But he doesn't lie, not to you. He'd stopped doing that a long time ago, and that was as much progress as you could ever hope for.

"Too much. Not enough. I don't know."

"Okay," you say, even though it isn't, not really. He should stop. You wish you could do more to stop him.

"Will you stay?" he murmurs, even though he knows you have a flight to catch. He'd paid for it when he demanded you come with him, promising you a few days off while he was stuck at the festival answering the same questions over and over again.

"You know I can't, my flight is in a couple of hours, I need to get through the traffic -"

"Please stay."

"There is nowhere for me to stay, Dieter. You don't need me here and I couldn't get a room if I tried. Everywhere nearby is booked." Assistants don't sleep with their employers, assistants don't sleep with their employers...

"I do. I do need you. I'm not asking you to stay anywhere else, I'm asking you to stay here. Stay with me," he mumbles. "I can sleep under here if I have to. Just stay." Assistants don't sleep with their fucking employers...

"You're not sleeping on the floor. And I- I can't." By this point you don't know why you can't, because maybe assistants don't sleep with their employers, but you and Dieter were always a little bit, well... y'know.

"Please."

And your resolve never was that strong where Dieter was concerned. Not really. "Fine. I'll stay. I need a shower and I need to go -"

"You can borrow some of my clothes," he says quickly. "We can shower - separately, I mean - get room service - fuck I'm starving - and then when we sleep, we can cuddle?"

You can't help but laugh, smiling up at the bed at how quickly his mood could turn around, particularly where cuddling and a good meal were concerned. Sometimes, when he was really tired, or high, or sad, or a combination of all three, he'd ask you to cuddle. You'd always settle on stroking his hair instead, watching his face as his jaw relaxed and sleep finally pulled at his features before sneaking away. Today, you had nowhere else to be so, you think, you may as well stay to cuddle.

"Yeah, Dee. We can cuddle."

You talk over room service - fancy toasted sandwiches and warm chocolate chip cookies that weren't on the menu, but Dieter had the audacity to ask for anyway. When you shower, he waits outside the door for you, restlessly stepping from foot to foot. You wait for him too, convincing him to leave the door open a little just in case, and he does so without question. A few minutes later he comes out, flushed red from the heat of the water and totally naked. You don't bat an eye.

Your skin still feels damp when you're climbing into bed, grateful to be on top of it and grit free now rather than under it. Dieter soon follows, crawling naked on all fours before tucking his legs under the sheets beside you.

You talk for a little longer, listening as Dieter sounds more and more slurred with sleep, before flicking the light off. He fidgets, shuffling closer to you until his arm wraps around your chest, resting his hand softly on your shoulder, his nose nuzzling into your neck on the pillow you now share. It's not comfortable, not for you, but the contented sounds coming from Dieter and the way his face twitches against your bare skin tells you he's holding back tears, that he needs this. You can be uncomfortable for one night, you think, just before he hooks his leg over yours, well and truly pinning you to the bed.

"Dee?"

"Yeah?"

"Your cock is on my leg."

"I know."

"Okay, well... G'night Dee."

"Night," he says straight into your ear, smacking his lips as he snuggles into your side, soft cock squished against your leg. And when, somehow, sleep ignores your discomfort and pulls you under barely a few minutes later, you swear you can feel Dieter press his lips to the bare skin of your neck.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #coveted fics

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trueangel420 · 4 months ago

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Ghostface!Kai / wc 1856/ “do you have a boyfriend?”

You leaned on the counter, the popcorn in the microwave clacking as you absentmindedly watched the horror movie playing on the TV in the living room. It was another monotonous Friday night, and you found yourself babysitting as usual. This time, it was an odd little boy you called Ozzy, who was obsessed with clowns—so much so that he had the creepiest clown figure in his room. You tried to ignore it; after all, he was only ten, and watching him didn't require much effort. Ozzy was self-sufficient, only needing you to answer his endless curious questions and read him a bedtime story. Now, you were the only one awake, feeling increasingly bored. The microwave dinged, and you turned to retrieve the popcorn, pouring it into a large bowl. Before you could grab a handful of the buttery snack, the landline rang, its noise obnoxious and loud. You shuffled over to answer it, bringing the receiver to your ear with a small breath. You expected Ally or even Ivy, but instead, you were met with a static-like noise that made you wince and pull the phone away slightly. "Hello?" you said softly into the receiver.

You waited for a moment, growing increasingly impatient before hearing a dark chuckle with an almost robotic tone. "Did you know today was Halloween?" the voice said, making your eyebrows furrow. Something told you not to entertain this, but your boredom got the better of you. "No, I didn't," you replied truthfully. You had been so busy babysitting Ozzy this week that you hadn't even glanced at your calendar.

"Do you like scary movies?" the voice continued. You nibbled at your bottom lip, leaning on the kitchen counter. "No, stranger, I don't really like scary movies," you answered, prompting him to tsk tsk at you. "Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked. You let out a small scoff, laughing a bit as you glanced at your nails. "Why? You wanna be my boyfriend?" you replied in an amused tone.

"You shouldn't tease me like that, doll," he hummed into the phone for a moment before letting out a breath. "Especially dressed in that little tank and that pink skirt of yours... is that a bow?" Your heart skipped a beat, and you instinctively looked down at your outfit. How could he know what you were wearing? You scanned the room, your eyes darting to the windows and the dark corners, but saw nothing unusual.

"Who is this?" you demanded, struggling to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

He chuckled, a sound that sent chills down your spine. "You know me," he said, his voice clear and unsettling. Without thinking, you blurted out, "You're a fucking creep" Immediately, you regretted it, covering your mouth. That was a bad choice. The voice on the other end of the line let out a slow, sinister laugh. The voice oozed with a dark, mocking tone. "You know, I've always liked how feisty you are," he said, the words dripping with a twisted sort of charm. "It's one of the things that makes you so... intriguing."

You tried to steady your breathing, struggling to keep calm. "What do you want from me?" you asked, forcing your voice to stay even. "Oh, it's not what I want," he purred. "It's what you're going to give me. I'm just looking forward to our little game, doll. I have a feeling you're going to be a lot of fun."

You nibbled on your bottom lip, looking outside the window as you leaned forward on the sink. "Wha-what do you mean?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. The voice on the other end took on a teasing, ghostly edge. "Oh, come on, don't play coy with me," he said, his tone dripping with flirtatious menace. "You know exactly what I mean…I can't wait to see that fear in your eyes up close, especially when i stick my knife in you."

"What?" Your voice trembled a bit, trying to grasp the full implication of his words. The line went silent for a moment, and then you heard a low, almost inaudible whisper.

"Turn around."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you quickly turned, your eyes scanning the dimly lit kitchen. The shadows seemed to stretch and morph, playing tricks on your mind. There was no one there, but the feeling of being watched was overwhelming.

"See you soon, doll," the voice said, just before the line went dead. You dropped the phone, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Panic surged through you, and you knew you had to get out of the house. Now. You sprinted upstairs, heart pounding, and burst into Ozzy's room. The boy was still sleeping, oblivious to the danger. You shuffled over to him, shaking his shoulder urgently.

"Ozzy, wake up," you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. "We need to go, now."He stirred, groggy and confused. "What's going on?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "No time to explain," you said, your voice trembling. "I need you to hide, okay? Don't come out." You grabbed the phone out of your pocket and dialed the police, your hands shaking as you pressed the numbers.

As the phone rang, you guided Ozzy towards the closet, helping him crawl inside. "Stay quiet," you urged, closing the door just as the call connected.

"911, what's your emergency?" the operator asked.

"Someone's in my house," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Please, send help quickly." You stayed on the line with the 911 operator, your heart racing as you gave them your address. They assured you that officers were on their way. Every second felt like an eternity as you crouched by the closet, keeping an eye on the door.

Within minutes, you heard the sound of sirens approaching, followed by a firm knock on the front door. You hurried downstairs, throwing open the door to find two police officers standing there. "Are you the one who called?" one of them asked, his eyes scanning the area. You nodded, your voice shaky. "Yes, please come in. I think someone's in the house." The officers entered, quickly spreading out to search every room. You stayed close behind one of them, your heart pounding with every step. They checked the kitchen, the living room, the basement—every possible hiding place.

After what felt like an eternity, they regrouped in the living room. "We've checked the entire house," one officer said, his expression serious. "There's no one here." "But I heard him," you insisted, frustration and fear mixing in your voice. "He described my clothes. He knew what i was wearing."

The officers exchanged glances. "Sometimes, these kinds of calls can be pranks or misunderstandings," the second officer said gently. "But we'll file a report and increase patrols in the area. If you hear anything else or see anyone suspicious, don't hesitate to call us again." You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and lingering dread. As the officers left, you went back upstairs to get Ozzy. Opening the closet door, you found him curled up, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Is it safe now?" he asked, his voice small.You nodded, trying to smile reassuringly. "Yeah, it's safe. The police checked everything. I'm going to call your moms, okay?" you said, trying to keep your voice steady. When Ally and Ivy arrived home, you filled them in on what had happened—well, not everything, but enough to avoid making Ally overly anxious. Afterward, you retreated back to your house. Ally offered to drive you, and you accepted. Luckily, you didn't live far from Ally's place, and she made sure to watch you unlock your door.

"Try to be safe, hun," she called out as she started her car.

You shuffled inside, locking the door behind you and turning on the lights. Letting out a sigh of relief, you crawled onto the couch and turned on a random channel, trying to distract yourself. Your mind raced with a mix of fear and unease, especially since the voice on the phone had sounded faintly familiar.

The next morning, you found yourself nibbling on a piece of bacon, your nerves still on edge. You'd called off work, unable to shake the lingering anxiety from the previous night. Every sound in the house seemed amplified, and you couldn't help but keep glancing toward the door, half-expecting it to bust open. You grabbed your phone, wrestling with the urge to call your neighbor and ask if he'd heard anything about what happened. Your fingers hovered over his contact before you finally pressed it, your heart pounding as the phone rang.

Kai answered groggily, as if he'd just woken up. "Yeah?" he mumbled, shifting around on the other end. "Did you hear?" you asked quickly, not wasting any time. Kai was your neighbor and, despite his intense demeanor, he'd been kind to you when you moved in, even helping with the boxes. "About last night? Yeah, I heard," he said, clearing his throat. He glanced out his window, his gaze landing directly on you. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry," you murmured into the phone. He let out a fake sigh. "Yeah, you did, doll. But it's okay." His face held a smirk, knowing all too well how clueless and trusting you could be. "It was so scary, Kai. I was babysitting and—"

"And you got a call, and they threatened you?" he interrupted, finishing your sentence. You nibbled on your bottom lip, letting out a breath."Yeah, how did you know that?" He let out a small laugh. "The news, doll." The suspicion you'd been feeling faded as you rolled your eyes at yourself for even doubting Kai. "Right, yeah. I even called off work, so I'll be stuck in my house all day," you murmured. "Maybe I'll swing by and make sure you're safe," he said softly, his eyes still fixed on you from his window as you nibbled on the bacon.

"That would be great. You're so sweet, Kai," you replied, your cheeks flushing. Maybe you liked Kai more than you let on, but it seemed he was always there for you when you needed him.

After the call ended, and you settled into your couch, curling up in your favorite nightgown. You turned on some trashy reality TV, letting the mindless drama provide a distraction from the lingering tension of the night before. As the skies started to darken, you continued watching the show, debating whether to turn on the lights. You felt too lazy to get up and didn't want to miss any of the unfolding drama on TV. The phone rang, jolting you from your daze. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced at the screen, half-expecting it to be Kai checking in. You reached for it, trying to steady your nerves. The phone displayed an unknown number. You hesitated for a moment before answering, your anxiety spiking. "Hello?" you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Missed me?"

#kai anderson imagine #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #tate langdon #kai anderson drabble #ahs cult #american horror story #stan bowes #evan peters #ghostface!kai #ghostface #fem reader #kai anderson x you #kai anderson x y/n

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taeyegu · 4 months ago

Text

confession is not flashy — 002. just for a month

previous // next

word count — 909

warning(s) — none... except a painfully whipped chan <3

lunch time at the hospital was always busy. today's lunch crew consists of the interns along with dr. moon from neuro and dr. hong from gs.

dr. moon took a small glance over at y/n who was currently pacing back and forth talking to someone on the phone. he then turned his attention to chan, "dr. jeon told me you actually met up with him for shadowing today--how was that?"

"it was fine…" chan sighed, "but y/n was with dr. kim today. i should have just followed them."

"you know dr. kim thinks you're really fond of pediatrics with how often you 'try' to shadow him." dr hong chuckled.

"he's only doing it so he can keep an eye on his girl." vernon said through a mouthful of rice. "we clowned him earlier today about it and i guess it was enough for him to finally follow his schedule with dr. jeon."

"oh? my girl?" dr. moon smirked, "when did this couple become a thing?"

"w-we're not a couple yet… unless y/n has said something about me…?" chan said in a hopeful tone. the whole table softly laughed at the youngest's antics surrounding his very obvious feelings. "a-anyways! sure, so what if i like y/n? it's not like it's that obvious!"

"it is very obvious." vernon deadpanned. seungkwan nodded along,

"you're always buying y/n lunch and never us…" seungkwan listed.

"that one time when you tried to arm wrestle dr. choi after y/n mentioned how strong he was and then dr. choi almost dislocated your shoulder…" dr. hong added.

"i also remember during the previous hospital dinner party, dr. kim and y/n were talking about their interest in eating chicken breast for protein and then you proceeded to eat an obscene amount of chicken that night and threw up…"

"okay!" the youngest exclaimed, "i admit, i am a little obvious…"

"i think all of the departments know about your little crush." dr. moon comforted chan, "we're all supporting you so don't worry!"

after finishing the phone call, y/n walks back to the lunch table and sits down with a sigh, "sorry that took so long everyone, did i miss anything?"

"is something the matter y/n?" seungkwan asked, "you look really tired after that phone call."

"it was just my mom again--she won't stop bothering me about the wedding!" y/n rubbed her fingers against her temples, feeling an oncoming headache at the thought of thinking back to the conversation.

"what happened?" dr. hong asked, "if you don't mind telling us."

"yeah it's not a big deal. seungkwan, vernon, and chan already know a little." y/n sighed once again, "my cousin is getting married and her wedding is like a month away. my mom has been pestering me nonstop to bring a date." y/n crossed her arms across her chest to display her annoyance, "i know she's worried about me with how busy school and rotations at the hospital have been, but i feel like a relationship right now wouldn't be the best for me."

"why does your mom want you to have a date so bad?" dr. moon questioned.

"i know she's just worried about me," y/n said, "but i also think it's because most, if not all of my cousins are in committed relationships right now. my mom thinks that i'm too focused on my career. she wants me to find a significant other before it's too late."

"that sucks y/n," dr. hong gave her a small pat on the back, "i'm sorry you have to deal with that right now."

"what does y/n have to deal with right now?" dr. kwon interjected as he placed his lunch tray down at the table.

"y/n has a family wedding to attend and her mom keeps pressuring her to bring a date." seungkwan summarizes to dr. kwon.

"why can't y/n just bring a fake date?" dr. kwon states like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"a fake date? what do you mean a fake date?" y/n perks up.

"it's exactly like it sounds." dr. kwon says, "find someone to be your fake date for the night so that you can get your mom to stop pressuring you--there's a bunch of websites where you can just pay someone to do this for you."

"on this salary… i don't think i can afford that option." y/n says dejectedly.

"or you can just ask one of your friends to be your fake date for free!" dr. moon exclaims.

"i've never really thought of that… that's actually a really good idea dr. kwon." y/n turns to look at her three best guy friends, "seungkwan? vernon? would you guys be able to?"

"sorry y/n, seungkwan and i bought concert tickets for aespa that night… we've been planning it for awhile." vernon says.

"o-oh y/n i can be your fake date--if there's no one else!" chan stutters.

"that's perfect y/n!" seungkwan exclaims, "you and chan would be great together!"

"would you really chan? i'd owe you my life!" y/n beams at him.

"haha, no worries y/n!" chan smiles, "i'm down to be your fake boyfriend for the wedding…"

"then it's settled!" dr. moon laughs, "congrats to the new couple at the hospital! love is definitely in the air!"

"very funny dr. moon!" y/n chuckles, "it's just for a month!"

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lowkeyremi · 1 year ago

Text

How they react when you "bro/bruh" them ft Eren, Connie, Levi, Jean.

I saw this tiktok where this girl called her bf bro and he gave her the meanest side eye lmao

CW: Language (obvi), mostly just fluff tho

Eren:

His big ass feet where near your face. You're pretty sure this clown is trying to gain your attention and it's working. Your eyes glance over at his feet again, then back to the instagram reel you were watching. Eren could hear the reels too because you have your volume all the way up.

In your peripheral you could see those toes wiggling, "Bruh, stop it."

Eren pauses, then looks you right in your eyes, emerald green meets (ur eye color) eyes, "who's 'bruh?' You know my name is Eren."

He's met with silence followed by a giggle and roll of your eyes, "then maybe I'm not talking to you. Mind your business Eren, 'Bruh' and I are trying to have a conversation."

"I'll beat his ass." Eren mutters and shoves his foot in your face. You squirm and shriek. Your efforts are useless though, his foot is right on your face.

"I'm about to beat your ass, if you don't get your big clown foot out of my face." Your words are mumbled... cuz of the foot.

"Huh? Can't hear you baby, speak u- AH." He retracts his foot and covers his face, which is turning red by the way. "You still scream like a little girl!" Eren watched as you clutched your stomach, the laughter you let out was loud and contagious, soon eren's laughing.

"I screamed because you bit my fucking foot!" He said in fits of laughter, he was half frowning, trying to be upset but it wasn't working.

"Listen here, bruh. I didn't even bite that hard." Eren's off the couch in seconds and he picks you up by your feet. You're upside down, screaming no less. "Put me down! I have a boyfriend!!"

You feel Eren's sharp canines on your foot, he bites hard.

Your scream is mixed with shortened laughter, you can't help it, "unhand me you weirdo."

He smirks but you can't see it, "if you say so." Eren releases your feet and you drop to the ground. Eren hears the thump of your head hitting the hard floor.

"Owww Eren, fuck you." You whine holding your head.

"You said to let go." His smile is malicious and undeniably huge.

"I hate you." Your pout grows and your head is throbbing.

"I love you too," he kisses your head where he dropped you.

Connie:

"Yeah, seriously. I would never let anyone talk to me like that." You say to your friend over the phone. You've been talking to her for maybe two hours? She's your bestie after all. Connie sneaks into the kitchen while you're finishing up lunch to take a little sample.

He grabs a biscuit off of the pan and tries to sneak out. Yeah he's on the shorter side, but he's bulky. So, you see him try to get away.

"Bro, stop! I just got those out." Connie pauses, stands to full height, with bread in his mouth.

"I'll call you back, yeah.. it's Connie." She hangs up and you set your phone down. Connie watches as you place your hand on your hip.

"Two minutes, all you had to do was wait two minutes." The small smile on your lips gives him everything he needs to know. You're not mad, but you're trying to be and failing.

"Sorry, Mami." He leaves the kitchen with a big smile on his face.

----

A few days have passes since then and it's been pretty normal up until today.

Connie didn't do the dishes...

"Constance Springer, get up and come do these dishes." There was strictness in your voice, he froze up for a second before relaxing.

"Bro stop! I'm playing my game." He mimicked your voice from the other day.

"Excuse you? I'm not your bro." You scoff.

"Mami, I was copying you, you called me 'bro' the other day. I was just kidding. I'll go do the dishes right now." His voice is soft as he turns of his game. He walks over to you and kisses you all over your face.

"Damn right you better do those dishes." Once again he can tell you're not mad.. but you're trying to be.

"Love you, pretty." He smiles.

"I guess I love your bald-headed ass, too." He gasps dramatically when you cross your arms.

Levi:

The hot chocolate you have isn't doing it, the chill still gets to you. Even with the fireplace going, you're still so cold. Your heater is broken and Levi waited until the last second to fix it. Winter has made its way into your little town and it is not kind. The winds have kept you inside, wishing that spring would come around even though winter just barely started.

You wanted to hire someone to come fix it, but your husband told you he was capable. Plus there are probably many people in the same situation as you who don't have a very capable Levi to fix their heater.

His words not yours. Right as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, the door opens to reveal Levi in his black parka. "I fixed it, come look outside, it's snowing."

You turn around to face him. "Bro, are you serious? I am not going out there." Levi hears you scoff and settle back into the couch.

"Who the hell is your "bro"? I didn't marry my fucking sister, hell I don't even have one. So don't call me bro." There's no real heat behind his words. He always gets like that when you call him bro.

"Calm the fuck down, it's an expression. We'll go outside later but you're literally shivering. I'll make you some hot chocolate. Go turn the heater on." You stand up, shivering yourself. Those trained eyes watch as you walk over to him and give him a quick peck on the lips.

"I think I deserve more than that for fixing the heater." He grabs your wrist.

"Um, no you don't. It doesn't count when you wait last fucking second to do it. If you want a real kiss, this house better be warm in the next hour." You yank your wrist out of his soft grip and walk to the kitchen to grab a mug for Levi.

"Fucking stupid." He mumbled.

"I heard that you dumbass." You yell from the kitchen, a silent chuckle following in pursuit.

"Good for you, idiot. I love you." The last part was mumbled softly.

"I love you too, my grumpy husband."

Jean:

"Dude I can't," he clicks his tongue, you're in his lap, snuggling him. "I told you already that I'm hanging out with my girlfriend today."

You can slightly hear Connie over the phone sighing and trying to come up with an excuse to get Jean out.

"We literally went out for food yesterday, shut up." Jean sighs, squeezing your thigh with a weary smile. You nod back because he remembered his promise 'Tomorrow baby I promise, we'll spend some time together.'

"Whatever man, I was gonna tell you mi madre is making her famous mofongo and I know you like that so I just wanted to let you know." Connie says this knowing he has your boyfriend in a tight spot.

"What?! Why didn't you say so? Save me some dude, but I can't come." Jean is holding strong.

You sigh deeply, "Bruh.. you know what? Go ahead, I don't care."

"No, I'm staying with you." He argues, "and don't bruh me, it's baby or my love to you."

"Okay, bro." Jean glares at you and you two have an intense staring contest for like three minutes.

"I win!" You smile.

"Just bring your girl, my mom loves her. Problem solved." Connie's tone says it all, he thinks it's the obvious answer.

"You don't understand. I promised her alone time, I'm always dragging her around everywhere." Jean tries to cuddle you and you get up off the couch to walk away.

Within a second his phone is on the couch and he moves to pick you up bridal style. "A promise is a promise, wanna watch a movie?"

"I want mofongo, so you better go and get some and bring it back." You say rolling your eyes and hopping out of his arms.

"It'll be quick, 15 minutes. I'll see if his mom has to-go boxes." He says kissing your forehead.

"Okay be safe, bro." His face turns into a pout, "Stop that."

"I'll think about it bro."

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danieyells · 6 months ago

Note

I don't know if you've done it yet but I would like to request Ren lines? I'm having tokyo debunker Ren brainrot bro 😭.

@otomelover23

You're all very welcome! I love you guys too, so far! Sorry you've been deprived of lazy boi lolol HOPEFULLY THESE SATISFY YOU A LITTLE BIT.

He's a little tsundere I think. He's one of those characters who just wants to be normal but he can't just pretend to be normal because he lives surrounded by chaos so he just complains a lot lolol. . .but i think he's a good guy. Aside from that he does not help his mother captain at all.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Great, shift change. I'm gonna head out then... What? Do I really need to be here for that?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"I think you've got a notification... Aren't you going to look at it?"

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Who did I disappoint in a past life to end up in Jabberwock... There's no general students or even a single other sane person, and these jumpsuits are a crime..."

"Why do I have to look after all these weird-ass animals? This is forced labor... Ugh, they're so gross..."

"If you're just gonna stand there, could you go feed the animals in the aquatic zone? I'm too busy."

"Ugh, why is that clown calling me... ... Whatever, I'll just let it ring out."

you know damn well that if you don't answer the phone you're gonna have to deal with Haru in person. Better to just answer it.

"Oh, hey... Could you open the link I sent you? No, you don't have to sign up or anything. Thanks."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Ugh... Tell me how I'm supposed to sit through classes when I've been up since 4 AM? (yawn) I'm exhausted..."

well if you didn't stay up until 4am--oh who am i kidding i stayed up til like 3 watching a stream and reading datamine stuff and then I got up at like 6:30 to get ready for work I'm no better kekw.

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Ugh... I can't believe I'm hiding right now... Why the hell does that clown have to chase me around at lunch time too?"

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Preach about doing it for the sake of your friends or the animals or whatever all you want— I really don't give a shit. People who say that stuff are just deluding themselves."

i've known people with this kind of cynicism before. once he finds people care about him and a little more stability he'll come around a little more.

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? I can't see that clown anywhere... Hell yes. Gonna get through my watch list. I hope he never comes back."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm grinding this game on my phone, so could you not talk to me for a while? Crap, I think my RSI is flaring up..."

in Japanese he specifies tendonitis haha

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Don't people get embarrassed calling out those words when they use their stigmas? It makes them look like LARPers..."

in japanese he says they sound like they have chuunibyou which is much funnier imo lmao. also i guess that means he can say his in his head? since he'd feel embarrassed doing it aloud, maybe he's practiced already lol

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You think I sigh a lot? Got a problem with that? You realize trying to take away people's freedom of speech is power harrassment, right?"

you're starting to sound like ritsu. gonna hurt yourself reaching like that.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm so done... I'm out of HP... Shouldn't I be exempt from missions and classes since I'm looking after all those animals?"

well based on one of Haku's chats, you can just do missions if you don't go to class, and based on Kaito you can just go to class instead of doing missions. . .but I'm sure Haru forces him on missions anyway lol. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Pfft... The video of that clown getting attacked by that hawk thing is getting so many interacts. This editing thing's actually pretty fun."

does editing count as a creative effort? i wouldn't be surprised if he switched to Hotarubi next year if so, assuming he doesn't get used to Jabberwock and the animals. Also why didn't he get stopped by Sophy for uploading a video with an anomaly? Unless he uploaded it to an Institute social media site like WickHive or something. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Gotta change the locks so that clown can't get in again. I've bought enough padlocks to start my own business by now..."

life haru finds a way. sometimes that way is "towa, break down the door" if he runs out of lockpicking equipment.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"My head's killing me... This is the worst... Rise and shine! my ass... It's basically still the middle of the night. Guess I should padlock my windows..."

5-6am I can understand being 'basically the middle of the night' but after that you're pushing it lmao

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The cafeteria's way over capacity... The assholes who save seats before its even noon are ruining it for everyone else..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Why's my pay so low... huh? What's this deduction for? "Consultation Fee: Ritsu Shinjo..." He's seriously charging me for complaining...?"

Ritsu charges for looking at him too long. i'd try venting on wickhive over complaining to Ritsu.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That rabbit sure has it good. All it has to do is breathe and everyone fawns over it. Doesn't even have to feed itself. Just wait till it grows up and learns what the world's really like."

WELL BASED ON THAT THE ADULT PEEKABOO WAS STILL BEING FAWNED OVER AND HARU HAD TO STOP PEOPLE FROM PETTING IT BECAUSE IT BITES. . .IT'LL PROBABLY STILL HAVE IT GOOD. Haru takes good care of the animals.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Sup... Huh? I'm alone today. I just got up on my own since if I don't that clown'll wake me up anyway."

yeah? it's because of haru? not because of your affinity with the pc being more than half so you wanna be up earlier to spend more time with them? sure.

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oof, nearly missed the noon raid... Not like I'll have any time to myself once I get back to the dorm, so I guess I should do it now..."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"No, I'm not going to sleep yet. I'm gonna watch a horror B-movie. You don't have to think, so they're the perfect thing to watch before bed."

i used to watch/listen to mts3k to go to sleep so. i feel this.

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Well done me for surviving another day... Oh, same to you too, {PC}. I don't how you can do this stuff voluntarily."

SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE ANIMALS DAWG.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? I'm going to the campus store to buy some stuff, where are you going? Well, I'm going that way, so...bye."

not sure if shy or asocial lmao. could be both!

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're being forced to help out again? Wow, a doormat out in the wild. So? Where do you want me to carry all this food?"

he's helping you even though he doesn't wanna work. HE'S GOT IT BAD.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"This? It's a video I uploaded. People seem really into it. It's of that clown getting chased by a dog and flailing around like one of those inflatable air dancers."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What am I doing today? Working at the diner. Oh, if you want to keep me company, feel free to come by. As long as you serve yourself."

it's not a date or anything since he's at work but like. . .he is inviting you to hang out. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? You were waiting for me to get off work? Oh... Thanks. Wait, that clown put you up to this?! I'm gonna kill him..."

NO NO WE CAME HERE WILLINGLY probably. although it does seem like Haru to be like "oh hey Ren really really likes you, you should go pick him up from work! he'd love that!!" like a real nosy mom who's trying to get his son together with his crush.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"When did it get this late? That was horrifyingly fast... I'll walk part of the way back with you. I was gonna go buy something to drink anyway..."

excuses, excuses. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Every day here is a fresh hell, sure, but... You're suffering through it with me, so I guess I'll stick it out a little longer..."

'this sucks but you make it suck a little(a lot) less so i can keep going'. yep, that's our tsundere alright!

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That clown's even more slap-happy than usual lately—it's horrible. Has he got spring fever or something?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Otonashi keeps trying to make me drink some kind of rice porridge with weird flowers in it... It's actual porridge harassment."

considering the flower Towa associates with Ren is poisonous, i think it's safe to assume he is literally trying to poison him to death lmao. also wtf is porridge harassment--i even tried looking it up in japanese and the first thing that came up was someone screenshotting it and saying "what is porridge harassment" lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"All this farm labor's bad enough without all the caterpillars and weird plants that are out there now...This is harassment."

what's harassing you, nature? as someone who just had to kill a huge mosquito that came into my room, nature is harassing me too.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I hate cherry blossoms. They're like the flower version of being a legacy kid— all they have to do is bloom once a year and everyone claps."

in japanese what he says is something like 'i hate them just like people born with silver spoons in their mouths'. basically he hates people born into privilege lol i bet he'd have the potential to get along well with haku until he learns he'll be inheriting a shrine. . .then again he's getting along with Ritsu in their own little way

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"This is the worst... It's not even noon yet, how is it so hot? Summer is for extroverts and party animals, I wish it could just be over already..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A group trip to the beach? I'd rather die. No decent person would ever go there of their own free will."

butbutbut. think of the summer skins!!!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Summer was our busy period back home, so I always had to kill myself helping out. Now I'm here though... nothing's changed."

. . .did Ren's family run some sort of seaside shop??? And he happened to end up afraid of the ocean and hating aquatic creatures and such?

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How can the A/C be banned in the dorm...? Who gives a shit what temperature some anomalous animal that sneaks in prefers, humans should come first..."

okay i agree with him here though what the fuck kind of rule is that. can we talk to hyde about that, that's insane haru.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Now it's getting colder, I nearly found myself feeling grateful for this tragic jumpsuit... Am I being brainwashed...?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Fall, the season of the harvest—I'll stick with cup noodles, thanks. "Fall, the season to enjoy the outdoors"—screw that. I'm gonna make it the season of naps."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Look—I got bitten by some weird bug anomaly. To hell with the stupid bug spray ban, I'm buying some."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I feel like the mountains are rowdier when there's a full moon. Pretty sure my enemy encounter rate goes up when I'm on patrol too... Maybe I'm just imagining it."

is 'enemy encounter rate' here referring to people or anomalies. . .because if it's people then that's just because of tsukimi. . .although I wouldn't be surprised if there were a lot of anomalies or anomalies were more active on full moons.

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"There's less patrols in winter but anything involving water like washing up gets even worse... Ugh, I wish I could hibernate too..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Since the climate in Jabberwock's so messed up, sometimes it's actually warm in winter. The blizzards are way stronger though..."

have you tried pissing towa off less?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Oh god, I just saw what's in the diner's new Mystery Hot Pot... It's gotta be a matter of time before this place goes bust..."

i mean if they had ordinary health inspectors maybe lolol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"That clown broke my window so my room's like a freezer... Oh, don't worry. I just took his room instead."

lmao imagine Ren invites you to hang out and takes you to Haru's room instead of his like nah he broke my window so i'm using his room and he can freeze.

His birthday: (July 25th)

"You got this for me? That clown's been spreading my personal info around... No, it's fine, I'll still take it. Thanks."

i guess he doesn't really tell people his birthday, huh.

Your birthday:

"Happy birthday, {PC}. ...Isn't it kind of rude to look so surprised I'd celebrate your birthday? That came from the heart, you know."

I MEAN YOU NORMALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING. . .it's happy surprise!!!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. My resolution? Escaping the hell hole that is Jabberwock, for starters."

well you got here in like September or something so. you've got a while befor eyou can switch houses lmao but you can do it this year!

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"You got me chocolates? You're the type who does all this kind of stuff, huh? No, it's fine, you went to the trouble and everything so I'll take them."

i love when characters kinda mock you for doing getting them something but then they're like "nonono i want it gimme--" lolol from Ren especially it's very tsundere. poor guy wouldn't be straightforward about his feelings unless a damn life was on the line.

White Day: (March 14th)

"{PC}... Here, if you want them. I just bought the first thing I saw, so don't read into it..."

i bet it's actually really nice lolol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Guess what? I got special permission to switch houses. That nightmare is now behind me! I wish..."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"I hope everyone who gets excited about Halloween lives in misery for the rest of their lives. Why the hell do I have to help out with this stupid themed tour?"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Can I ask you a question, {PC}? You don't still believe in Santa Claus, do you? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Have a good Christmas."

i mean. . .after coming here santa is a plausible entity to believe in. . .if there's gonna be a santa i don't wanna be caught not believing and missing out on gifts. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Where'd she go...? Whatever. Guess I'll catch up on some of my games."

(13 affinity and above)

"Pfft... This edit's awesome. I'm a genius. I'll show {PC} when she gets back."

true bonding is sharing the funny memes you worked hard on. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"It's not like I was waiting for you or anything. It's just this hell hole is even more unbearable when you're not around..."

YEP THAT'S OUR UNFORTUNATE CUSTOMER SERVICE EMPLOYEE TSUNDERE ALRIGHT. His lines don't really get super affectionate but. They still have a charm to them when you realize how much he hides his feelings in the usual tsundere way. He likes you a lot but like. . .it's a bother and it's embarrassing. . .and what're the chances you're into him? He'll just invite you over to watch movies and play games with him and stuff. . .and tell himself it's fine to just be friends until it eats away at him. . .or until Haru spills the beans for him--

this took way too long because i got distracted like three times in the middle and my laptop started freaking out and i had to figure out why and close and reopen everything about 8 times hahaha. . . . OKAY TIME FOR ME TO GO TO BED! I hope this satisfies you a little bit!!

#ren shiranami #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker spoilers #datamining cw #danie yells at tokyo debunker #danie yells answers #danie yells with anons #I ONCE AGAIN HAVE A DOUBLE TOMORROW LIKE EVERY WEEKEND but then i can sleep a little more sunday night #it is almost 1am lol i haven't even had anything to eat yet. . . .#i probably shittalk him a little bit i do love him. like what a relateable dude.

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illneverrecover · 8 months ago

Text

god dammit i like it (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: card shark/gambling Changkyun, cocktail server reader, poker!AU, hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff (in that order). ➛word count: 9005 (oof) ➛rating: M ➛warnings: excessive alcohol use, cursing, dirty talk, very very soft femdomme energy, oral sex (female and male receiving), changkyun begging, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, very brief mentions of blood, more soft clown changkyun. ➛summary: One last game, he tells himself. Just one last game, and he'll have enough money to take care of you the way you deserve, to show you how much you mean to him, to give you the life that you want... as long as he doesn't get caught. ➛notes: My second time writing Changkyun and as always, it's for the one and only @taetaesbaebaepsae. She had commissioned me (back when I still did those) to write something based on the God Damn MV, and then patiently waited for me to get my life together. I thoroughly enjoy creating new ways to hurt you with your ult bias, so I hope you enjoy this one! I did edit this one, but just barely, so please be gentle with me. Let me know what you think! ➛song: God Damn - I.M | Habits (Stay High) - Tove Lo (Hippie Sabotage Remix) ➛tagging: @taetaesbaebaepsae @lvupmushroom @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife - thank you for letting me use your likeness for this, and for looking it over to make sure it would truly hurt Kristy's feelings. Teamwork makes the dreamwork, bbs.

He’s an idiot, but you already knew that.

The alcohol in his gut sloshes as he moves to stand, his glass painfully empty. Changkyun stumbles towards the bar, the thrumming in his head keeping pace with the bass thumping through the speakers of the club.

His eyes are glassy, faraway when he reaches his destination, the cup fumbling out of his grasp as he indicates to the bartender he wants another. The bartender looks him over, seemingly debating on following through with the request, but he turns to grab the bottle of whisky regardless.

Changkyun hates it. Hates that he’s so drunk, that you’re not here, that the guy serving him thinks he’s a mess. He knows he’s an idiot, that he should stop. Put down the glass and pick up his phone. That he should just call you and tell you he’s sorry for being such a moron all the time, and that he’ll listen to you from now on. That he does love you, and wants to take care of you, and he can fucking prove it, if you’ll let him.

But then he recalls the look in your eyes when you caught him – the disappointment, the pain – and he reaches for his now refilled glass, taking a swig before facing back towards the club.

He doesn’t deserve it – doesn’t deserve you, to provide for you, to do any of it. Not when he’s such a jealous asshole, not when he’s such a fuck up. You deserve the world. Someone who can really give you what you need.

Fuck, he wants to be that. There’s some moments when things are good, when you’re tucked into his arms in bed, sleeping softly beside him that he thinks he might be that – someone who can provide, be reliable, strong. But then he remembers your fights; his words of jealousy and anger, his avoidant nonchalant fake ass attitude, his fragile little ego shattering with a flick of your eyebrow and a sharp word.

So he leaves his phone in his pocket, instead slinking back towards his booth before dropping into it. It was easy to ignore his friends’ questions, to insist that he was fine, to pretend to be more interested in the tray of shots being dropped off at the table. He accepted the small glass, slamming it down before he could think about the burn, about the empty churning in his stomach.

It was easy to ignore his friends, but damn, Changkyun was tired of pretending he wasn’t fucking exhausted of trying to be okay without you.

It had always been push and pull with him.

From the minute Changkyun had walked into Yvonne’s, the lounge where you worked, you could feel the snap of electricity, the buzz of magnetism that pulled you to him. He would’ve stood out from his clothing alone; his lithe form draped in a bright red perfectly cut suit, shirtless under the vest to show off his tanned, broad chest. The combination of cut and color was lethal on him and he knew it, his dark hair swept back to allow the full potency of his sharp gaze. The group of men he was with were also impeccably dressed and attractive, but there was something about him that had your eyes following him, unable to look away.

Luckily for you, he had seemed to feel the same way.

His friends had gone to sit at the Baccarat table in Kat’s section, but he had stayed behind, noting which tables your body was sliding between as you delivered drinks before he made his selection at the blackjack table at the end of your section.

He couldn’t keep his gaze off of you, ordering more drinks than he was actually playing cards you were certain, but you weren’t going to stop a paying customer. The table he was at was pretty low stakes overall; the crowd was a bunch of casual players, but he had enough money to keep up with the table, so they were willing to ignore his flirting.

You were also trying to ignore it, playing into him enough to ensure your tip would be secure, but also knowing that this was likely all just fun for the rudely handsome stranger. And if there is one thing you enjoy doing, it’s having a little fun – especially while at work.

But there was something in the way he looked at you, the way that he spoke to you, that had you hanging on a bit more than you’d care to admit. You wanted to tell yourself it was just the fact that he looked like that in that suit – that his tattoos and cocky smirk on top of it all was just too much for you – but you knew it was more than that.

It was when you were dropping off his umpteenth cocktail that he finally made a move, his tattooed hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you and slide a piece of paper into your palm.

“When do you get off?”

You smirked, trying to ignore the sudden rush of blood in your veins at his skin touching yours. “Why? Who wants to know?”

His face deadpanned, his mouth dropping to a pout, and the juxtaposition of such a cute expression on such a lethal man made you laugh.

“I don’t even know your name,” you clarified, pulling away from his grip and tucking the paper into your apron.

“You could call me whatever you wanted,” he replies, voice low, glare fixed on you, “but others call me Changkyun.”

The same things that had drawn you to him also made you roll your eyes, his cockiness frustrating just as much as it was attractive. He insisted on waiting until you had finished your shift, ensuring that you made it safely to your car before reminding you about the paper tucked into your apron pocket.

“It has my phone number on it so you can text me and let me know what time you want me to pick you up tomorrow.” He had murmured, his face so close to yours that you had forgotten to breathe.

“Pick me up, hmm? Well aren’t we feeling awfully sure of ourselves,” you replied in a shaky breath, hating how much he was affecting you. “What are you picking me up for?”

“I was hoping to take you on a date, but if you have things you need to do - errands, work - that’s fine with me too. Just let me take care of you.”

It was as easy as that, the way he slid into your life. You hadn’t believed the offer, not really, but decided to text him anyway. You had some things to do before your shift, why use your gas when you could waste his?

But Changkyun was effortless, showing up in gray sweats and a black t shirt promptly at the time you requested, ready to chauffeur you all over town. He kept up with your teasing about his sad fuckboy music he was listening to, and let you mess around with his AC without complaint, like he had been doing it for a hundred years.

Maybe that’s how he broke your walls down – acting so nonchalant, while also being dependable, always showing up when and how he said he would, always ready with an easy smile and a light joke.

It could have been days, maybe weeks, but it didn’t take long for you to realize you wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. That you didn’t think you wanted to.

Which was a complete contradiction to what you had told him – that you weren’t interested in anything serious, but if he played his cards right, you could be convinced for an evening of fun. An offer he had declined, telling you that he would wait until you changed your mind and wanted him fully. An answer that had infuriated you to no end, but one that felt inevitable.

It was the 14th or 15th day of hanging out that he finally said the words, putting the feelings out into the space between you. His “I love you” came out rushed, as if the words had pained him, but the flush of his cheeks and shimmering soft eyes had you cracking, reaching for him to smash your mouth into his own.

The kiss was unlike anything you had ever felt; the intense rush of heat nearly choking you when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. He groaned when you had opened, the feeling of his tongue on yours sending the kiss deeper, starved for each other. He tasted like whisky mixed with the faint hint of gummy bears he was always snacking on, and you were drunk on his mouth, drunk on him. You don’t even remember if you had said the words back, the volatile energy between you now snapped and now your full focus until it was fully satiated.

Changkyun slotted into your life like he had always been there. The familiarity of it soothed you, brought you a deep peace that you didn’t know you needed – but there was the other side of you, the one that had never allowed anyone to get this close, that was terrified of what this would mean. That knew letting someone in also gave them the power to break you.

It was always a push and a pull with him, an intoxicating desire to give in, to let your heart find a home with him – mixed with the fear that eventually, that home would be ripped away.

“Fuck,” Changkyun cursed, and your fingers tangled in the hair at his nape, tugging.

“No marks,” you reminded him, though you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the feel of his mouth at your throat. His tongue was laving at the junction of your skin between neck and collar bone, suckling it between his teeth before soothing it with sloppy kisses.

You had been pressed against the wall of your apartment, him latched to you like a man starving until you had coaxed him down the hall towards your bedroom, letting him push you down onto the bed before resuming his work on your neck.

“Mmm,” he acknowledged, though he didn't stop his ministrations. “I wish I could mark you up, make sure everyone at Yvonne’s knows who you come home to.”

You had let out a breathy giggle, eyes rolling though he couldn’t see it. His silly jealousy over the stares you got while working at the lounge was just that - silly, nothing of merit - and yet, you couldn’t help but play into it just a little bit.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” you whispered, using your hand in his hair to guide him to your mouth, only stopping his descent when he was a breath away.

“Don’t play games, sweetheart,” Changkyun leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip, and your grip deepened. “We both know I’m the only one you’d let stick around this long.”

He was right about that.

Closing the distance, you melted your mouth into his, letting him take control of the kiss for just a moment before you tug at his head once more, dragging him down your body. He complied quickly, pressing small kisses into your flesh as you guided him lower.

“I don’t know,” you breathed, eyes hazy as Changkyun settled between your thighs, a groan leaving his throat when he saw you had forgone any kind of underwear beneath your skirt. “That one guy at table 7 was tipping really well, I bet I could-”

Your words were choked off with a moan as Changkyun dragged his tongue from the bottom of your cunt to your aching clit, giving it a singular swirl with the offending muscle before pulling back.

“What was that?” he asked, but he didn't wait for a reply, not before delving back between your legs. He lapped at your center, taking his time tasting you before he settled up near your clit, sucking it between his lips.

Any retort you had been working on died as he made quick work of you, sucking and licking until you were bucking up into his face, both hands tugging at his hair to hold him in place. He had become pliant beneath you, molding himself just where you needed in order to push you over the edge. Just when you felt like you couldn’t take any more, that you were going to snap, Changkyun slid two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards.

“Please, come for me, sweetheart,” he begged, murmuring against the heat of your flesh. “I want it so bad.”

His words were your undoing, and you find yourself doing exactly as he asked, moaning out his name as he takes you over the edge, his mouth and fingers working you through it in tandem.

You exploded, white bursting behind your eyelids until you were boneless, unable to do anything but ride out your orgasm at the will of the man in front of you. Changkyun made sure to taste every drop of your release, slowly sliding his hand away from you only to quickly replace it with his tongue to lap at you until you were shoving him away.

You wanted to make him feel as good as you did in that moment, wanted to return the favor, so you pushed him off of you and onto his back, switching positions to settle between his legs.

Hands tugging at his boxer briefs, Changkyun complied to your silent request, lifting his hips until you could drag them off. You were quick to palm his erection in your hand and squeeze, relishing in the hiss he rewarded you with, your thighs squeezing together.

“Please,” he groaned, and fuck did he beg so prettily. “I just want to be inside you already, let me be inside you, yeah?”

Teasing the head of his cock with your lips, you hummed, playing as if you were considering his words. The truth was, having a beautiful man like him pleading you for anything was your kryptonite, and you would give him anything he asked for as long as he sounded like that.

Taking a final swipe of your tongue over his sensitive flesh, you gave him a smirk, moving until you straddled him, hovering for just a moment. Grasping his length, you line him up with your dripping cunt, sinking onto him slowly, tortuously.

You may be giving him what he had asked for, but only because you wanted to, because you had deemed it aligned with your desires. Changkyun gave you full control over your pleasure, and you took it greedily.

Once fully seated, you moaned, hips beginning to undulate and swirl against his. Pressing your palms into his chest, you began to work yourself over him, sliding back and forth until you were panting, thighs burning.

His eyes searched yours, waiting for permission before he did anything more than take what you were giving him. “Fuck me, Changkyun,” you gasped, voice teetering into a whine. “Wanna come on your cock.”

Changkyun didn’t need to be told twice, didn’t need any more instruction before he was thrusting up into you, pelvis meeting yours. His hands tugged you down until your chest was flush with his own, his mouth seeking yours and coaxing it into a filthy kiss.

“Fuck, yes, please come on my cock,” he rasped against your lips, his pupils blown as they make contact with yours. His gaze was intense, searing, but you couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. You wanted to be engulfed; consumed by him. “Use me, baby.”

Slamming down onto him, your pace began to turn frantic as he matched you thrust for thrust, each connection against your tender clit sending you further into oblivion.

“You feel so good, Kyun,” you praised him, adjusting until your face was pressed to his neck. “So good for me, so perfect.”

His answering moan reverberated in your chest, his arms tightening around you as his pace turned punishing, and it drove you crazy how something as simple as your words has him frenzied, falling apart beneath you.

Drunk on the power, you felt yourself hurtling towards your climax, nails digging into the skin on his back as he relentlessly slammed up into you. “Fuck, yes,” you cried, letting yourself go, giving in until you were over the edge, orgasm overtaking your senses.

It was too much for Changkyun; the way your scent was all around him, intoxicating him, the way you were moaning curses and his name, the way you were clenching so fucking tightly against his cock. Before he could stop himself he was chasing his high right alongside you, shuddering as he pumped his release deep, unable to still his hips even when you were mewling from the sensitivity.

Panting heavily against each other, you had tried to pull away only for Changkyun to roll you beneath him, pinning you under his weight. He was still fully lodged inside you, face nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your still sweaty-from-sex skin.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” you chuffed, making a feeble attempt to lift his weight before letting him resettle against you. It was all for show, the response he expected from you. The truth was you didn’t mind it - the feeling of him still inside you, the familiarity of his lips on your skin, the intimacy of it all - you didn’t mind it if it was with him.

“Just let me hold you like this for a bit, hmm?” he mumbled against your neck, and you hummed your agreement, letting your eyes fall closed. He pressed a few lazy kisses to your throat before his breathing became measured, even, and you decided joining him in slumber wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Promise me,” you murmured, voice thick and lazy. You were still naked and draped across his chest, listening to the calming beat of his heart. You had already woken and showered, deciding that clothes weren’t necessary before jumping back into bed together. That was several hours ago now. The smoke coming from his cigarette was curling up towards the ceiling, leaving a dreamy haze in the room.

“I’d promise you anything,” he replied quickly, taking a drag, “but what specifically am I promising you this time, sweetheart?”

“No more going to Kihyun’s high roller floors, Kyun. I know the pots are bigger, but you don’t know those men at those tables - not like I do.” You paused then, taking a shaky inhale.

Being in your line of work, you were no stranger to dangerous men, however you purposefully stayed away from serving on those floors of the lounge for a reason. Those men were the worst of the worst, and even if they weren’t, they rubbed elbows and served those who were. Either way, the money may be sweet, but the risk wasn’t worth it. You made better than you ever had at the lounge with the sections you served, and that was fine with you.

But Changkyun had always wanted more.

Ever since you had told him about your lofty dreams - the ones that you had saved for yourself in the darkest parts of the night, when your mind was racing and you couldn’t sleep - he hadn’t let them go. Truthfully, you always loved the idea of retiring your waitressing shoes and being able to finally write full time, working on the novel you’ve been imagining for years in some quiet home somewhere, tucked away from the world. But it broke you to see Changkyun willing to risk his life to see it come true by hanging around that crowd, placing higher and higher bets at Yvonne’s most hazardous tables.

It was strange for you to accept that he would even want to do this for you, to support you in this way, but he always knew how to soothe those concerns, promising you that he genuinely wanted to care for you before gently ribbing you to stop being so damn stubborn.

However, it was his stubbornness that had been creating a wedge between you.

“They’re bad people, Changkyun. And I don’t mean like - scamming old ladies for their pension money bad, either. I mean like extremely shady dealings with people who are involved with things that would get them sent to prison, bad.”

His free hand fell to your head then, smoothing your hair back as he took another puff of his cigarette.

“I know they are. I’m only just polite enough for the rules of the game, I never engage with them more than that. I’m not there for friends or connections, just the money.” He took a final pull before dropping the spent butt in the ashtray on the bedside table, his other hand moving to rest over the one you had placed on his heart.

“I get that, but it doesn’t take much to get on their bad side. It could be the slightest thing. Sometimes, just winning is all it takes.”

He sighed, but let the silence linger, instead letting himself get lost in stroking your hair softly. You were about to say something again, to make sure he had heard you, when he finally spoke.

“I just want to take care of you, you know?” His voice was low, thick with emotion, though he tried to swallow it back. “Give you what you deserve.”

That pain came back, the one deep in your chest, and you sat up to face him. “I know that. But I already have everything that I need, right here.”

You tap his chest once, twice - his hand still firmly resting on top of your own.

He met your gaze, giving you a small, cocky smirk, as if his eyes weren’t shiny with unshed tears. “What, you mean this hot body?”

You scoffed, eyes rolling. Maybe you should’ve called him out on his side stepping, forcing him to vocalize that look he had been giving you, but instead you fell back into step with your teasing. It was, after all, the familiar dance between you two.

“No, stupid. I meant you - you’re all I need. The rest of this shit is just noise.”

“I bet I can make you make some noise–”

“Changkyun–”

“Okay okay,” he laughed as your soft touch turned into pointed jabs into his chest, sitting up to wrap his arms around you and stop your onslaught. “I hear you, sweetheart. You’re right. I’ll stay away,” he said, pulling you up and back until you’re leaning against his chest, arms still wrapped tight around you.

“Promise me?” This time when you say it, you made sure your eyes were locked on his, made sure the fear you felt was evident behind the words.

“I promise.”

It felt like a sign from the universe. Well, either that, or a promise from the devil.

But sometimes, those can look the same.

The posting for Kihyun’s upcoming game had just gone up, but it was already making the rounds. Games like these were advertised in a certain way - you had to know where to find it in order to play, and the regular gamblers all knew the common message boards to keep an eye on. Changkyun hadn’t been looking for it, wasn’t even checking the forums anymore – but had gotten a text about it from Joohoney, a screenshot of the flyer accompanying his message of “Bro, did you see this shit??”

A high stakes game, in two nights. The winning pot large enough that he would be able to retire you permanently, and he wouldn’t be too far behind you, honestly. You were already off work that night, plans in place for a girls night with Kat and a few of the other servers, so you wouldn’t be at Yvonne’s.

It would just be one last time.

One last game, and with enough luck, he could finally give you the life that you’ve always wanted, provide for you in the way a man should. Sure, you wouldn’t like it – the idea of him going to the tables again – but that was only if you found out, and the chances of that were slim.

He could win the money and set it aside, give himself a week or two of regular games to make it seem a bit more feasible. A few days of being off your feet and back on your laptop would have you forgetting about work anyway, and the top floor of Yvonne’s would fade quickly away from your memory.

It had to be a sign. He could do it, could pull it off, could be the man that you deserve.

His fingers hovered over his phone, the reply ready to be sent to Joohoney. It would be just as easy to delete it, to tell him that he’s done with that shit. To text his best friend back and tell him that he can’t, because he told you he would walk away and stay away from those men. Joohoney might give him some shit, but he would understand, likely wouldn’t push the matter.

But the money…

It didn’t take long for Changkyun to do the math; it would take months at the regular tables to get this kind of money, and that’s only if he kept winning. Which didn’t seem like long in the grand scheme of things, but when he thought of how your eyes lit up at the idea of writing full time, made it seem like it was centuries.

You wouldn’t have to know. It would just be one last time.

He pressed send on the text, foot tapping nervously until he saw the read receipt pop up under his message.

“I’m in - one last game.”

You were mad at him again, but your friends didn’t need to know that.

All they needed to know was that you were in the mood for a girls night out, and if they knew what was good for them, they’d be there in their sluttiest outfit ready to indulge with you.

However, it only took you ordering the second round of shots to have Bri’s questioning stare fixed on your own.

“So, what did he do this time?” she deadpanned, sipping from her straw.

“What? Who? I don’t know what you speak of,” you replied. “I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.”

“Sure, okay,” Kat nodded, giving a convincing performance of someone who actually believed your nonsense. “If he didn’t do anything, then why isn’t he here, buying us all drinks?”

She had you there. Changkyun was always wanting to show up on your nights out – not to crash them, but so that you and your friends could enjoy your time without having to worry about a single thing. He covered the tabs, made sure everyone was having fun, and ensured each person got home safely – all while staying tucked away at a nearby table until you needed him, never putting too much pressure on you.

It had pissed you off the first time he had suggested it, but after he showed you what he meant, showed you how he could be supportive in the shadows while still letting you shine, you had slowly given in. Part of you loved being able to enjoy yourself with your friends while knowing he was always looking out, even if he wasn’t directly visible.

“Maybe he’s busy.”

Twin glares pinned you to your seat, and you allowed several beats of the bass blaring in the speakers to pass before caving.

“Okay, fine, yes. We’re having a slight disagreement,” you conceded with a sniff, “over something that happened at work.”

“Wait a minute - is this about what happened with Vanda?” Kat questioned, mentioning the newest server at the lounge. She had only started a few weeks prior, but had been making a lot of work for you - constantly acting like she knew what she was doing in front of management, only to flounder and follow you and the senior staff around asking a million questions the minute they weren’t on the floor.

It wasn’t her confidence in her lacking serving skills that had bothered you, not really. It was more so how the minute she did get called out on a mistake, she was quick to try to throw you and your friends - the same people who had just been helping her ass - under the bus.

You had told Changkyun about an incident earlier in the week of this exact scenario – she was flirting with another customer instead of checking on the tables in her section, and a patron of hers ended up getting up to go to the bar to order a drink. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal, mistakes happen after all, except she had immediately told the manager on duty that you had promised to cover that table. Which was news to you.

“Are you serious? After all the help you’ve given her?” Changkyun had shook his head, irritation evident in his voice. “Did you tell the manager the truth? Who was on?”

You had smothered a smile at the question, trying and failing to hide how much you loved him wanting to know more about your life.

“It was Amy, and yeah, I told her. She believed me, but still. I don’t get it, I’ve never done anything to that girl.”

“Want me to show up to Yvonne’s and request her section with the guys, give her some shit? You know how annoying I can be when I want to,” he offered, brows raised in a teasing lilt, but you could tell by the line of his mouth that he meant it.

“Yes, I do know how truly annoying you can be. It’s almost like a super power.”

He grinned then, a full one, and you wanted to kiss his stupid mouth.

“But no, it’s fine. I got this. I know how to handle people like this, and having anyone else fight the battle for me will only make her more bold about it.” This wasn’t your first rodeo, after all - you had been serving a long time, and doing luxury serving at Yvonne’s for even longer than Vanda had been out of diapers. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was handle people.

But did Changkyun listen to you?

Well no, of course not.

He did exactly as he had threatened - showed up the following day with his full group of rowdy friends, sitting in her section and dedicated to being the most obnoxious people Vanda dealt with all night. They didn’t do anything harassing or illegal, just toed the line of being pretentious drunk pricks gambling and drinking – sending back drinks for being made incorrectly, asking for complicated cocktails and shots, requesting a rundown of the entire menu before telling her they were no longer hungry.

Kat and Bri had found it hilarious, stating that your boyfriend’s malicious compliance of the rules while still making Vanda run around so much she was pouring sweat was truly an artform. And there was a tiny piece of you, deep in your soul, that was pleased at the lengths he was willing to go for you.

But you were also pissed, because you had been exactly right. It did nothing to stop Vanda from sending bullshit your way; if anything, it had spurred her on, the following shift of yours even more annoying and mind numbing after hours of her questions and subtle sabotage.

“Yes, it’s about what happened with Vanda! I told him to let me handle it, and he didn’t listen. I know he meant well, I get that, but still. He didn’t listen.” You had known his heart was in the right place - you hadn’t questioned that. But it didn’t negate the fact that it made you feel so small when he didn’t listen to your requests.

“I thought that was hilarious,” Bri said, arm reaching out for another shot glass. She had one already prepped in front of her, but preferred taking her shots two at a time. “But I get it. Vanda’s been worse since.”

“I can handle Vanda, I don’t really care about that. But it feels like our fights are usually because he just doesn’t listen to what I’m telling him. It’s like he thinks he knows better than me.”

Deep down, you know he didn’t mean it in this way, but it was like he didn’t trust you - your judgment, your read on the situation, whatever it is – and that hurt, especially when you had worked so hard to open up that piece of yourself to him.

“And I know that I’m not always right, and it’s not like I don’t want to hear his opinions, but I don’t like the choice being taken from me. Or worse, dangled in front of me like he’s going to consider my feelings, only to have him do whatever.”

Downing her two shots in rapid succession, Bri shook her head, reaching for her chaser before speaking. “I think that’s part of the problem, he thinks he is considering your feelings. He thinks he’s standing up for you and fighting for you. He thinks he’s taking some of that burden off your plate.”

“I don’t need, I mean, I don’t-”

“When is the last time you let anyone fight a battle for you?” Kat interrupted, elbows leaning on the table to make direct eye contact with you. “You tell everyone that you got it, that you can handle it. And we’ve seen you do it, so it’s not that we don’t believe you. But sometimes, we want to help you, for no other reason than we love you. And we can.”

The direct read into your defenses had your throat tightening, and you blinked back the tears that threatened to form and ruin your makeup.

“He should listen and take your feelings into consideration, absolutely,” Kat continued, voice gentle, “but also, you should let him support you and help more. I think if you let him be there for you in smaller ways, he wouldn’t feel the need to be the knight in shining armor so much.”

There was a lot of wisdom in your friend's words, and you had taken a moment of silence to chew on it, to let it sink in.

“He really loves you, you know that, right? So stop being a dumb bitch about it,” Bri deadpanned, but her expression was soft, “and let him love you. And you know I say that with affection.”

“I know,” you said, nodding at your friends. As much as it wasn’t easy to admit, they had a point, which also meant that maybe Changkyun did, as well. “Thank you both, seriously.”

It had only taken one text message, a quick “This tab isn’t going to pay itself” with a kissing emoji to have him showing up at the bar, settling into a table a few down from your own with a wink and a sly smirk, where he proceeded to wait out the evening, taking care of you and your friends as always when the time came.

“I’m still annoyed with you,” you had panted against his mouth when you got home, letting him push you up against the wall and cage you in with his arms. He was on you like a starved man, and it had made your buzz intensify, making you drunk on him, his kiss.

“Of course, I understand,” he mumbled, words barely intelligible in the urgency of his lips.

You had to fight to pull away, using one hand on the base of his throat to push him back for a moment to catch your breath.

“But, also, thank you. For what you did with Vanda. And for always wanting to protect me.”

If Changkyun noticed how soft your voice got, he didn’t say anything, instead leaning down to press his forehead against yours. You could tell he was going to say something – probably something devastatingly sweet – and you needed to finish what you were going to say, before the bravery lost you.

“I’m not used to having someone who wants to fight with me, or for me, you know.”

“I know,” he replied in a rush, like he had already known your confession, knew what you were going to say long before the words had formed. “I know, and I also shouldn’t be an ass and push all the time. But I will always protect you, yeah?”

Nodding, you fought back tears for the second time that evening, but this time you didn’t shy away from letting him see the emotion in your face.

“You’re mine, and I will always fight for you, sweetheart.”

This time when he kissed you, it was slow, purposeful, heated. Like he was going to make sure you felt and wanted for nothing other than him, his touch, and that you could allow yourself to fall into him forever and would always have a safe place to land.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, to be vulnerable with someone, to let them in, if you could feel like this.

Or maybe it wasn’t so bad, only because it was Changkyun.

Tonight was the night, and everything was in place.

So why did Changkyun feel a ball of anxiety forming in the base of his gut?

Everything had been going according to the plan so far, not that there was much of a plan for any of this. It mostly relied on you and your friends being away from Yvonne’s for the night, which was easy enough since you were all off on the same evening. A rarity that you all were going to take advantage of, and had planned for movie night with drinks and sushi take out over at Kat’s place, an event that was common enough that Changkyun knew it usually ended in a sleepover.

He had dropped you off an hour prior, kissing you gently and shouting a greeting down the hall to the girls before heading back to the car, ignoring the feeling of guilt roiling in his stomach. He had just kept reminding himself that he was doing this for you, doing this so he could support you and give you the life that you deserved.

It was one last time, one last game.

But that pit didn’t dissipate as the evening went on, not even when he met with Joohoney who had insisted he take a shot when they arrived at Yvonne’s to help with his nerves. It had burned his esophagus, blurring the edges of his tension a bit, enough that he felt confident walking through the lounge next to his friend..

“You good?” Joohoney asked, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

Changkyun nodded. “Yeah, just really wanna win some money, you know?”

Joohoney had given him an understanding grin before guiding him past the tables in the lower section of Yvonne’s towards the stairs leading up to the high roller tables.

“It's our lucky night, Kyun,” Joohoney said, pausing in front of the door leading to where the game was about to begin. Through the heavily frosted glass, Changkyun could see several bodies already seated at the few VIP tables, and he felt his pulse spike. “We’re going to win.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The sleepover at Kat’s had been just the reset you needed.

A night of screaming at the television, drinking cocktails and eating your bodyweight in sushi with your friends was healing in more ways than one, and you had left the next morning feeling lighter and more content than you remembered in a while.

It was surprising to find your apartment dark and quiet when you returned, as you had assumed Changkyun would be there waiting for you, like he always was. You had given him a key long ago, figuring there was no point in pretending like he didn’t spend all of his free time glued to your side, but not fully ready to give up the independence of living alone quite yet.

Sending him a quick text, you let him know that you’re home and about to catch up on sleep before your shift later. He replies quickly that he had fallen asleep at his place after a late night with Joohoney, but that he would be there once you got off work.

Nothing had felt out of the ordinary, and you felt energized enough from your nap to get ready quickly, getting to work much earlier than you normally would for a shift.

You should’ve known something was up the minute you walked into work and saw that Vanda had a shit eating grin on her face.

She kept sneaking side glances, watching you with a scrutiny that made you uneasy. She’s normally more obvious in her attempts to annoy you, and her passive aggressiveness is setting your teeth on edge.

After the third glare and giggle on your way to drop off more drinks, you decide you’re going to confront her and ask her what her deal is, when she beats you to it.

“Did you have fun last night?” Vanda questions, a stupid smirk on her face.

“Why do you care?”

“Seemed like Changkyun did,” she continued, like you hadn’t asked a question. Your stomach dropped.

Raising a brow, you wait for her to go on, not wanting to give her any more satisfaction. She clearly knew something that you didn’t, and she was already well aware of that fact.

“How much did he actually end up winning last night? I mean, him and Joohoney were upstairs until last call, and he seemed pretty happy when he left.”

Instantly, your throat tightens, unease now unfurled into full blown anxiety. He was here last night? If he was here last night, and with Joohoney upstairs, no less…

“I didn’t manage to hear how much he won, just that Changkyun shouldn’t worry, because you would never find out.”

It was enough. You had heard enough.

It was surprising how quickly you switched into autopilot, spinning on your heel and striding out of the room before your throat tightens, before your vision fully blurs. Vanda says something more behind you, a lilt of concern in her voice, but you can’t hear her, not anymore.

Your mind quiets as your body takes control, moving you to find your manager to tell her that you need to leave, before grabbing your purse and coat, and leaving the lounge. Turning towards your apartment, your rage fuels your step, gut churning with the betrayal of knowing the only reason why Changkyun would be upstairs at Yvonne’s last night, why he would be leaving looking so pleased with himself.

The wind bit at your face, chapping your lips, but you didn’t care; needing the night air in your lungs and for the anger to be burned out in your movement before seeing him.

Because once you walked out your anger and faced the betrayal, you would need to deal with the deep seated fear for Changkyun’s safety, and how the hell you would be able to protect him now.

Changkyun wasn’t expecting you so early when you barged into the apartment, and the mix of confusion and excitement quickly bled away once he saw the look on your face.

He strides towards you, grabbing your shoulders, concern knitting his brow. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Blinking, you allow yourself a moment to stare at him, to drink in his full mouth and stupid handsome face, before you swallow around the knot in your throat.

“Tell me it isn’t true, Changkyun.”

You hate how your voice sounds; weak and strained and like you’re just bone deep tired, defeated. Maybe you are.

“What are you talk-”

“Tell me that you weren’t upstairs at Yvonne’s last night,” you sigh, irritated with the ruse. “Tell me that you didn’t go and do the exact thing that you promised me you wouldn’t, and that I didn’t have to find out from fucking Vanda, of all people.”

Pulling away, you slide from his grasp, tucking your arms around your middle so that you wouldn’t be tempted to reach back out for him. It was tortuous, how much you want to reach for him, even when your heart is breaking.

“Sweetheart, I just- it was just going to be one last time, one last game. The pot was too good, it was enough to get you set up, so you could quit,” he lets the sentence hang, almost waiting for you to interrupt, but when you stay silent, he continues. “Joohoney made sure everything was good, and we won just enough to get what we needed, not enough to rock too many boats. I had it under control.”

Closing your eyes, you let the last sentence settle around your shoulders like a heavy weight, the same old feelings bubbling up. “It wasn’t about you being in control or not, Changkyun. It was about listening to me, actually listening to me. You promised.”

It was on the last word that you broke, that the tears started to fall, and for once you didn’t turn away, wanting him to see.

“You promised me you would stay away, and then you didn’t. You hid it. You thought you knew what was best for me, instead of just listening to me.”

Pain laces Changkyun’s face as he takes a step towards you, only pausing when you take an equal step backwards. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I know better, I just-”

“Please leave. I’m done.” Your voice is low but measured, certain.

“Baby, please, let me just explain, and- and-”

“I don’t want to hear an explanation. I want you to leave.” Tears continue to fall, but you don’t drop his stare, willing him to understand just how serious this all is, how serious you are.

He wants to fight it, wants to say more, but something in your eyes must convince him, because he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he moves back to the couch, grabbing his coat and phone, before making his way to the door. His gaze is mournful as he gives you one last look, lingering, before shutting the door behind him.

You aren’t sure how long you stand there, unmoving, before the autopilot kicks back into gear, forcing your limbs to move. Heading towards your room, you place your phone on the charger before you curl into your bed, surrounding yourself with the blankets and the lingering scent of Changkyun.

And then you let yourself break down.

Changkyun was drunk. Too drunk.

He shouldn’t have taken that last shot, especially not after that last drink from the bar. It was too much, but fuck it. Who cares?

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” he mumbles to himself, not caring how crazy he looks. He wishes someone would just give him some direction, tell him what he would need to do in order to fix this.

He didn’t listen. He never listens.

And now he’s lost the only good thing he’s ever fucking had, the only reason he got up each morning and what’s the point, if you’re gone?

Fuck. Fuck.

Sliding down low in the booth, he lets his head hang, the whisky glass precariously dangling in his hand. His body felt so heavy, so numb, and yet the anguish deep in his chest only worsened, throbbed along to music blaring in the club.

If only he could apologize, he’d beg for mercy, he’d promise he’d never fuck up like this ever again. Explain how you were right - how he doesn’t need the money, or any of that shit, as long as he had you.

He needs you.

His heart is in a vice grip, squeezing so tightly that he thinks he might explode from his body, his skin, until he’s nothing but red.

Pain suddenly licks up Changkyun’s palm, and he looks down to see the glass cup gone. In its place are thousands of tiny shards, twinkling in the dim club lights, reflecting everything back to him. More red, but this time welling in his palm, pooling in the deep lines of the skin.

“What the fuck, are you alright dude?”

Changkyun thinks it’s Joohoney who asks him, or maybe it’s Hyungwon? It doesn’t matter either way, because it’s not you.

He goes to stand, to ask for a bandage or a rag or something, but instead his vision blurs, the room spinning. And then he’s flat on his back, blinking up at the cacophony of lights, faces coming in and out of focus, but not the one he needs, not the one he’s looking for.

He can faintly hear his friends talking to him, feel them digging in his pockets for his phone, but he can’t be present anymore. It’s too torturous, too heavy. Much easier to close his eyes, to think about your face. To let himself get lost forever.

He’s happy to die here on the floor of this stupid club, imagining your smile, your laugh, your lips as you say his name.

Changkyun just wants to take care of you, just wants to give you everything that you deserve. How can he do that if he’s here? If he can’t listen?

He lets the darkness swallow him.

Changkyun isn’t sure where he is.

He feels like he got hit by a truck, his head specifically feeling like it had been trampled on, though it’s his right palm that's aching in time to his pulse.

Without moving, he opens his eyes slowly, trying to take in his surroundings. It’s dark, wherever he is, and his head is propped on a pillow, body stretched out on a couch. He can see a small trash can directly in front of him, as if whomever brought him here wasn’t sure if he’d be capable of finding a bathroom if the contents of his stomach decided to make a reappearance, and he groans.

Fingers swipe through his hair, easing the pounding in his skull by a fraction.

“Hi, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Changkyun thinks he has to still be sleeping, must be having a very good dream if it’s your voice he’s hearing, your scent he’s inhaling as he settles onto the pillow. He smiles to himself, not wanting to speak and having the dream fade too soon.

“Changkyun? Are you going to answer me?” This time, you peer over him, leaning down to stroke his face. You let your fingers linger briefly on his cheekbone before lightly touching his lips.

His eyes snap open.

“Is this real?” He asks, voice hoarse, gaze searching your own. He doesn’t feel strong enough to sit up quite yet, but you don’t seem to want to make him, either. “Are you really here?”

“Technically, you’re here at my place, but yes, it’s real.” You reply, your nails sliding back up to his hair to give his scalp a soothing scratch.

He swallows as he stares at you, as he drinks in the tenderness in your eyes that he thought he wouldn’t get a chance to see again. It took him a moment before he recognized your apartment in the dim light, and another more before realizing the pillow he’s laying on is settled in your lap.

Even knowing that this was real, that you truly let him back in, he was still too scared to speak, not wanting to scare you off. Not wanting the moment to end.

When he finally gathered enough courage, he cleared his throat.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry, sweetheart. You’re right. I don’t listen. I hear what you say, and then just act like an ass who thinks he knows everything.” Changkyun swallows thickly. “The only thing I do know is that you’re my everything. You’re all I need. Please, don’t give up on me yet.”

His pleas make your eyes well, and you force yourself to take an even inhale before speaking.

You want to tell him that you couldn’t give him up, that you had tried because you knew it would be easier in the long run, but your heart wouldn’t allow it. You want to say that you had regretted telling him to leave the moment the words left your lips, that you hadn’t meant them. You want to say that you were just so tired of not being heard, of people making decisions for you.

Instead, you roll your eyes playfully. “Now why would I do that, after all the trouble I went through to patch up your hand while you were black out?”

You will tell him those things, but later. When the sting of last night had faded a bit from both of your memories, and the impact intended can land.

He gives you a small grin, meeting your gaze. His hand - the bandaged one - raises slowly, tentatively, until it’s cupping your cheek.

“I just wanted to give you the world,” Changkyun murmurs, almost reverently. “I will give you the world, the right way. It might take me longer, but I will.”

His words soften you more, and you reach for his other hand, pulling him up until he’s facing you. He’s slow to move, the onset of a hangover taking hold, but eventually he settles sitting upright, eyes still intense on your own.

He is always trying to take care of you, trying to lessen your burdens. You know you’re not the best at accepting the help, but dammit, you were trying. For him. And he was trying for you, too.

You lean forward until your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling.

“I already have it, stupid.”

He kisses you then, a gentle press of lips that quickly builds, as everything always does with him. A push and a pull. Changkyun leans away slightly, grins against your mouth. “I’m an idiot, but you already knew that.”

“You’re my idiot. The rest is just noise.”

#changkyun x reader #changkyun smut #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #IM x reader #monsta x smut #monsta x fanfic #monsta x x reader #ksmutclub #im changkyun #i.m monsta x #my writing #fic: god dammit i like it #fic: gdili

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snowy-vee · 9 months ago

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ALL MINE: Hidden Scene (2)

CHECK MY PINNED POST!

DAILY CLICK!!!!

Chapter 3: Abby vs Ellie Fight Scene

(…)“It’s pretty much her name and physic description, yeah,” Ellie licked her lips, nodding slowly.

“Does anyone know where Abby is right now?”

Ellie was furious, she was not going to let her ruin your reputation, she did not cared if you were unbothered by it. She was and that was enough to make her storm in the gym lockers where there was the team around Abby and her phone.

“Everybody out!” She screamed slamming her palm in one of the lockers to make noise, the girls that were there quickly grabbed their things and ran for their lives. Yes, Ellie was a loser socially but she also was know for beating up people who wronged you and she never lost. “Except you”

“I was not going to” Abby chuckled getting up from the bench “She sent you here to beat me up or you just like to act like her guardian dog? You shouldn’t waist your breath in a bitch like her”

Ellie’s punch connected with Abby’s face. No hesitation. Just punched her right in the face, that hurt, but she was so angry of she badmouthing you that she barely felt anything. Abby, caught off guard, raised her arms to shield her face from barrage of punches kept throwing and the moment she saw an opening, aimed a precise kick Ellie’s stomach and pushed her making her trip on the bench.

She did not waist time tackling Ellie putting her leg on top of her back pressing her onto the bench, grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back with her leg. Ellie screamed and shaked trying to break to free.

“You’re truly pathetic, this is the second time I steal something from you and a girl too! You don’t know how to protect was yours, huh?”

“You’re a liar! She told me nothing happened between you too”

“And you believed her? She’s a whore, here! Tell me that’s not her” With her right hand she grabbed Ellie’s hair and pulled her hair up and with her left hand she showed her some compromising pictures that YOU sent to her, that was your user, your face, your body… you lied to her and now she looked like a clown fighting to defend you.

She was so furious but more disappointed that you, one of her most important people on her world, would do this and then she had the memory of that day years ago when she was so excited to go see her first girlfriend, Cat, at her house and Cat “butt-dialed” her

“Cat! I am on my way, well, I am in my house now, I left early, I was going to call you-”

“…¿And what about your girlfriend? I don’t think little Els would like this”

“She doesn’t have to know, anyway I was planning on leave her soon”

“Is that so?”

“Because you like me, right? I’ve been seeing how you check out Ellie’s best friend time to time, I don’t like that”

“Can you blame me? She’s hot”

“Don’t.”

“Why not? You’re still with Ellie, I want to be part of the group too, hell, Imagine I get with the girlfriend and best friend.

“Don’t even joke about it, I will leave Ellie, in fact I’ll do it today, we are going to hang out later… I used to like her a lot at the start but she’s so clingy and there’s the bestie who’s clearly in love with her and Ellie seems to not see that”

“…Are you on a call or something? Your phone is on”

“No… Omg, Ellie?-” Ellie hanged up as soon as she was discovered, her phone fell from her hands, she went to the bathroom to look at herself. Eyes ready to shed tears, she punched the mirror and the scream because of the pain of her hand and her heart.

She punched again, more pain but not as she was feeling on her chest, she couldn’t breath well, she was hyperventilating. She didn’t know what to do, she wanted to hide, she wanted to beat up Abby, she wanted to… She needed you, she needed someone that she could feel safe.

She ran out of her house and kept running until she got to your house, knocking hard, you ran downstairs opening the door kind of scared because who was knocking like a maniac when you were alone at home, but soon that feel became worry as you saw that was Ellie with blood on her.

She threw herself on you, hugging you hard sobbing, you closed the door as you asked hee what happend but it wasn’t until she relaxed a little bit that you could take her to your room and make her sit on your bed while you wen search a first aid kit on the bathroom.

You could hear her mumbles but nothing clear, you couldn’t make something out of it, you had to clean her wounds first. You sighed returning on the room, she was still crying but less than before, you did your job in silence sat in the bed besides her, not making eye contact with her, only saying “sorry” as she winced or made sounds of pain.

“Can you explain to me what happened really?”

“Abby stole something important from me…”

“What Abby? Anderson? That fucking loser? Ellie, I will beat her ass and make her return to you whatever she took ¡Let’s fucking go, rigth now!” You got up from the bed ready to go outside in your pajamas bu Ellie grabbed your hand shooking her head.

“I don’t want it anymore…”

“What else happened? You’re not telling me everything, rght?”

“Please, I just want to rest…” Her broken voice made you roll eyes and sit again caressing her hair. It broke your heart to see her like this.

“Let’s have a sleepover! I’ll call Joel to let him know and I’ll lend you some pajamas… I think you left one the last time, my mom must have cleaned it, let me search first on my drawers” You went to your drawer searching for the pajama. “Maybe it’s downstairs with the clean clothes, wait here! I’ll make popcorn, call Joel, bring the pajama and come back!”

As you went downstars, Ellie’s eyes followed you with Cat’s words passing briefly on her mind ¿Were you in love with her? No way… Ellie knew you were loyal to her as her bestfriend, that you would be there for her no matter what, that you would love her forever and that she would so the same but what if you two ended up as a couple and Abby steal you from her? Abby said to have interest in you, no, she couldn’t take that, she wasn’t that strong.

So, even if you were, Ellie was going to play dumb. If you tried to make advances on her or flirt outside of the friendly kind, she was going to act oblivious, dismissing you everytime you tried to confess changing topics, being clear that her type was the opposite of you and more because as a best friend you couldn’t betray another.

You came back with everything you said and later you two started watching a movie on your laptop. “You don’t like Abby, right? In any way I mean”

She interrupted the silence, you looked at her shooking your head. “Nope and I dislike her more for making you cry”

“You would never have anything with her, right? promise me, promise me, promise me” There it was again her hurt voice.

“Ellie, don’t cry anymore, I promise on our friendship that I will never ever ever do that to you”

You kissed her forehead and kept watching the movie, ellie was satisfied and she finally could feel in peace.

All that memory made her more overwhelmed by anger, with her head she hit Abby on the head and broke free and the fight continued until some teacher stepped in between them two , attempting to diffuse the situation and send them both home.

Ellie didn’t know if she trust herself to drive back home but she did anyways trying to control her breathing, you broke your promise, you broke her friendship, he trust and mostly her heart.

taglist;; @boobdrug @lovelyxbaby @pedropascalsbbg@cherryimaa @yumimak @amberputh @cattjull @carylinflors @ghostlyfangs @teawithnosugar @azxulaa @elliesexual @gato-chino @divinesdior @yumimak @abbystoy @gosomewjere @isitadinosaur

for people who asked me to be tag but it's not, sorry, it's not letting me tag you, I'll try later or next chapter <3

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courtingchaos · 1 year ago

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An Excuse in the Form of Pie

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: A little Thanksgiving ditty for you, just a few days late. This is in my Rent universe but you can just read it on its own if you’d prefer. Takes place like a year into them dating.

Warnings: Sex

NSFW 18+ No Minors

Oh they shouldn’t have trusted either of you two to do shit asked of you. All Wayne had to do was huff at the cardboard box that he was unloading onto your mom’s counter and Eddie was at the front door with your hand in his.

“What’d you forget?” He asked it too enthusiastically, earning a hard side eye from Wayne.

“The buttermilk pie.”

“We can go grab it.” Eddie already had the door open with you nodding along behind him.

“It’s not a two person job.” Wayne’s gaze never falters off his nephew or you, just a raise of his eyebrows while you two practically jitter out of your skin.

“What if my hands get cold? We can share the load, right Samwise?” Eddie has mischief all over his face when he glances at you over his shoulder. It’s in the dimples on his cheeks and the crinkles around his eyes. Those shine with giddiness that he’s been trying to tamp down all morning.

Wayne relents wordlessly, a toss of his hands upwards and another huff. “Nothing wise about either of you.” Muttered as he turns to help your mom with the unwrapping of casseroles.

Your aunts came in two days ago and he hasn’t had a moment alone with you since, all of it spent at your place in your mom’s living room listening to three middle aged women gossip. It was fun for the first day but when he realized you were essentially being held hostage and he couldn’t get even a quick feel up in the hallway without someone calling for you. A trailer not much bigger than his own and it was swarming with people and you kept getting lost in the throws.

“How long before they send out a search party?” Eddie asks while stomping up his front steps and unlocking the door, everything done in a rush like he’s running from your extended family.

“Well bud, I think Wayne already knows.” Your laugh follows him into the dark trailer before he yanks you in with him.

“Bud?!”

“Yeah, my buddy that I sleep with.”

“Is that all I am to you?” He pulls you against his chest in the midst of giggles and a tangle of feet trying to rid themselves of shoes. “Just a warm buddy you can take advantage of?” He asks like he isn’t the one manhandling you down the short hallway to his room. Your protests fall on deaf ears though as he nods along all aloof like and blindly slaps around behind his back for his doorknob.

“Seriously Eddie we gotta be quick, I don’t want Wayne marching over.”

“Hey.” He pulls away to point at you. “You don’t get to make fun of me when it’s over in under a minute, capiche?”

You laugh into his mouth while trying to kiss him and also trying to pull at his belt. His hands immediately find their way under your blouse, a lavender colored satin thing your mother forced you into that morning. He’d made a comment about you looking like one of those sad porcelain clowns and you’d thrown a serving spoon at him.

Now though you can’t get enough of his teasing mouth. His teeth that nip and pull away to draw you closer to his bed, his tongue that sneaks out to lick at the corner of your lips.

“Eddie c’mon.” You whine when he dips his head to kiss under your jaw, his hands still skirting the edges of your bra under your shirt. “Get me out of this stupid thing.”

He’s already plucking at the covered buttons before you finish your sentence. “Say no more.” Undone, just like your bra apparently, his little magic trick he’s perfected in the almost year you two have been together. He tugs you with him to sit on the edge of the bed and with you barely in his lap, the phone trills from the kitchen.

“There’s that ten minute warning.” Your hands slow down on the zipper of his ‘nice’ jeans, coming to terms with the fact you weren’t going to get anything you wanted this week.

“Well fuck their ten minutes.” His hands are rough on the wool of your skirt where he pushes it up your thighs, fingers sneaking under the silky lining to find the crease of your hips. “It’s not like we’re eating pie first.”

“You might be.” Your laugh is soft between you. Breath pushed out from the tickling movement of his fingers along sensitive skin. He gets a grip on you though and rolls you onto your back, your legs kicking around until he settles between your knees.

“Unfortunately no.” His fingers hook on your underwear to pull them down quickly. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to sneaking away later for a slice.” He vaguely pushes his jeans aside, finishing the job you left undone. The phone stops finally and Eddie grins down at you looking flushed and disheveled and wanting. He wants to get you out of your holiday finest and keep you in his sheets while the sky is still grey with rain. He doesn’t want to make this quick just because he’s missed you for a few days but the ache in his boxers does make a persuasive argument.

“What are you smiling at?” You ask him, trying to reach out to pull him closer. He gets the idea and drops down on his elbows to crowd into your space, nose running down along your cheek to plant a kiss on your earlobe.

“You. I miss you.”

“I know. The aunts will be gone by Saturday and you can have me all to yourself till Monday.” You run fingers through his tangled hair and he sighs, taking the moment for longer than he should. This was supposed to be a quickie after all.

“I’m gonna hold you to that-“

The phone rings again and he could swear it sounds more insistent than it did two minutes ago. “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying.” Your giggling does him in. He sits up with a rough yank of your hips to meet his and he works himself out of his boxers. Doesn’t give you more than a second to realize before he rocks his hips forward and makes you gasp through your smile.

The shriek of the phone echos through the empty trailer and it sets his teeth on edge, anger a whisper on the back of his thoughts “I swear to god I’m gonna graduate this year.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yup.” He grabs your leg to sloppily kiss your knee and keep your hips open for him. “I’m gonna get the fuck out there so we can get the fuck out of here.” His other hand sneaks between your legs to find your own ache, thumb rubbing circles over that bundle of nerves. The leg in his hold jumps and he laughs through his nose at the way you squirm against his onslaught. “Have our own fucking Thanksgiving.” His hips pound a rhythm against yours. “And I’m unplugging the fucking phone.”

Your laughter turns to moaning that you don’t have to keep hidden and Eddie’s eyes roll in his head. These are the daydreams he gets lost in during biology, ideas of you two living on your own anywhere but here. A place where you don’t have to keep quiet due to thin walls and family ever present. Eighty five is gonna be his fucking year if it’s the last thing he does.

When one call ends and immediately picks up into another loud ring, Eddie drops his head and focuses on you. “Come on baby, they’re gonna send out the sheriff soon.”

“I don’t-fuck I don’t care!” You give him a show with your head thrown back and your hands pawing at your own chest, one of your nipples pinched between your orange painted fingers. His hips snap in an uneven rhythm while he tries to hold off until you break, always trying to make you break first. Eyes screwed shut, back arching off the bed suddenly, he feels you clench around him and he buries himself deep to ride out the feeling with you. His movements stutter and he mumbles his love at you, babbling about next year in your own shared place. In your own shared bed.

There’s no room for basking in the afterglow and when Eddie finally lifts his head you’ve already rehooked your bra and started buttoning your shirt back up quietly. “I’m sorry this was…well, this.” You look around you sadly and spot your underwear on his crowded floor.

“Don’t be, I got to steal you away for a bit.” He’s redoing his belt but leans down to kiss your forehead. “And maybe later we can sneak out back and have some quality neckin’ time.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and the phone rings again and he turns unceremoniously out of his room without another word.

He tears the phone of the cradle and immediately hears Wayne, exasperated on the other end, asking where in the blue hell you two are. “Hello!” Eddie twirls the wire around his finger, his irritation clear through the line. “No we didn’t get lost, I was looking for something in my room.”

A moments fucking peace, he thinks to himself.

“Yeah, I see it. No I’m literally staring at it right now. Yep, she’s picking it up and we’re walking out the door.” You’re strolling into the living room and picking up your shoes and his, waving them at him. “Yes Wayne, I know. I’m sorry. Uh huh. Well…oh.” You’re watching him as his face softens and he smiles. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“What’s up?” Your hair is stuck up around your head and after he hangs up he reaches out to smooth a hand over the flyaways.

“He said he was stalling for us.” A blush creeps into the tips of his ears at the thought of that. A sweet gesture but still something he wished he could have kept to himself.

“Well that’s sweet of him. Told you he knew what was up.” You hand him his shoes that he drops and shoves his toes into while you grab the homemade pie out of the fridge. “You ready?”

“I was serious, by the way.” He doesn’t look at you while he locks the door and makes his intentions clear.

“About what?”

“The getting us out of here.”

You wait at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him warmly with the glass pie dish tucked up against your chest. “I know.”

He has a hard time meeting your eyes sometimes when he tries to talk about the future. “I mean, if that’s anything you’d want anyways.” He keeps his gaze unfocused while you both start back off to your trailer and your full family.

“Getting out of the trailer park?”

“Yeah.”

“Getting out of Hawkins?”

“That too.”

“Getting away with you?”

“That’s the part I wasn’t sure about.”

You find his hand swinging between you to grab it tight, lacing your fingers together. “Eddie, I’d love nothing more.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson Fluff #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson x Reader #My Work #My Fic

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shelbystales · 4 months ago

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Best Aid - Part Nine

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.

Warning: swearing

A/N: Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot. Hi guyss!!!! long time no see hahaha, sorry for the hiatus, needed some time. Can't promise i'll be back 100% posting every week but i'll try for sure! Gotta say i missed writing :)

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A week has passed since your last conversation with Thomas. In that time, you had only seen each other once when he came to pick up John Doe, now also known as Johnny Dogs. This time apart helped you sort out your feelings about everything you had been through in the past few weeks.

Surprisingly, the week went by like any other. You kept up with your shifts, visited your mom and brother over the weekend, and caught up on your TV series episodes. It felt like everything had returned to how it was before the man with the incredibly blue eyes walked into your emergency room, and you saved him.

Back to your normal and safe routine.

As soon as your shift ended, you joined Jeremy and his fiancé, Alan, for a pizza night at their place. You spent the evening eating, drinking wine, and gossiping about everything, from the most unrealistic romances at the hospital to Alan’s latest work presentation.

The evening turned out better than you imagined. Being in Jeremy's company is always great; he's a clown, constantly making everyone laugh, even if not intended.

Alan, on the other hand, has a geekier style and is a bit more reserved, resembling those cute librarians the main character falls for in a classic romantic movie. They were a perfect match.

After dinner, your stomach ached from laughter and overeating. The fact that you spent the past few hours laughing and getting drunk made you feel like things were back on track again.

You left their place feeling happy and carefree.

The lobby of your hotel was nearly deserted, with only a few employees and scattered guests, which was odd because the hotel restaurant was usually packed at this hour every day.

As you waited for the elevator, the quiet murmur of the lobby was interrupted by two passing employees whispering about the kitchen being closed for maintenance. “An intern messed something up,” the woman said, her voice loud enough for you to catch.

When the elevator doors opened, Thomas stood there, looking effortlessly handsome. Your heart skipped a beat, and your stomach fluttered nervously. When his eyes met yours he gave a small smile.

You smiled back, hoping your voice wouldn’t betray your nerves. "Heading up?" He nodded, and you stepped into the elevator. The space suddenly felt much smaller. His presence, his warmth, and that cologne mingling with the faint buzz from the wine, made your pulse quicken. "I didn't even know there was a floor below us" you chuckled, trying to ease your nerves. “Well, obviously, there are several negative buttons here," you pointed to the panel awkwardly. “Funny… I never noticed it before.”

"Just a few parking levels," he said in his smooth Birmingham accent, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "How are you? You seem happy."

"Well, I am," you smiled, butterflies dancing in your stomach. "And also in urgent need of a shower. But I'm good." You leaned against the elevator wall, the weight of your shift and your growing desire for him pressing down on you.

"Had a good night, eh?" he asked, glancing briefly at the notification on his phone.

"Yeah, trying to enjoy myself before next week," you said, "I have 36 consecutive hours on call."

"That's a lot of hours," he said, his eyes flicking back to the screen as new notifications appeared.

"Yeah, but I'm used to it," you smiled. "Is everything ok?” you wondered what was all the fuzz on his phone.

“Yeah, just having a kitchen mess today” he put his phone back on his back pocket

“I overheard someone mentiion that it’s closed. A result of some sort of an intern’s lack of care?” you said and watched confused as he frowned

“Sure. That's what happened” he let out almost as a whisper "you should know that things will start to calm down," he replied, and your smile grew wider. His words gave you a glimmer of hope.

"Good to hear that! What happened?" you asked almost as an impulse.

“I'm not sure you want me answering that Y/n…” he chuckled as he got a cigarette out of his pockets. Will he light it in here? you wondered, but he simply put it to rest between his lips.

“Right…” You hesitated, your heart pounding, desperate to talk about something else, too afraid to let that subject be the center of your conversation once again. “So, uh, do you have any plans for tonight?” The question slipped out before you could stop yourself, and you immediately regretted it.

Thomas looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. His gaze was penetrating, almost as if he could read your thoughts. "Plans?" he echoed, his tone light but curious.

You quickly clarified, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that! I was just wondering what you're up to this late at night." You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, trying to appear nonchalant. Begging for the elevator to stop making random stops at almost every floor and finally get to yours, now hating the fact that he gave you one of the top rooms.

Thomas smiled faintly at your question, his eyes studying you for a moment longer than usual. "Polly is traveling, so I'm checking on things for her and the kitching needs some cleaning up. I'm heading to her room to get the master key"

You nod, trying to hide your slight disappointment at his answer. "Oh, that sounds nice of you," you reply, mentally chiding yourself for asking in the first place. It wasn't like you were inviting him or expecting him to join you, right?. The elevator dinged softly as it reached your floor. “Well, I won't keep you. Have a good night, Thomas."

"You too," he said, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer before you turned and walked down the hallway.

The elevator doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Why did you ask that? You mentally scolded yourself again as you walked down the hall to your room as you replayed the encounter in your mind.

Thomas's presence had a way of unnerving you, yet you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement his proximity brought. As you walked you were already mentally planning your night: a hot shower, maybe some Netflix, and straight to bed. That's all you need right now.

As you settled into your room, the encounter with Thomas replayed in your mind again, like a vivid movie scene. His smile was etched into your memory, and the way he looked at you sparked a warmth deep within.

Your phone buzzed with a notification, breaking your train of thought. It was a message from Jeremy, asking if you got home okay. You quickly replied, assuring him you were fine and thanking him for the fun evening.

Setting your phone aside, you found yourself unable to shake the lingering thoughts of Thomas. The way his presence seemed to fill the elevator, the scent of his cologne that still lingered in your mind - it all stirred something unfamiliar yet exhilarating.

Suddenly your mind started to play games with you as it imagined his hands on your skin as he kissed you desperately on the elevator. His lips gently caressing your cheek, making his way to the warmth between your legs…His body pressing yours against the cold elevator wall.. fuck!

You sat on the edge of your bed, a sudden heat spreading through you. You needed a cold shower to cool down and clear your head.

After a refreshing shower that did little to dampen the heat of your thoughts, you settled into the living room, deciding to distract yourself with a Netflix series. The soft glow of the screen and the familiar characters helped ease your mind, at least temporarily. Ozzy nestled at your feet enjoying your presence but trying not to show it, as all cats do.

The characters on the screen moved and spoke, but your mind kept drifting back to Thomas.The more you thought about him, the harder it was to focus on the TV.

Your mind replayed all the moments you had shared, trying to convince your horny mind that it would be a bad bad idea. But you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him, a magnetic attraction that left you both excited and unnerved.

You sighed and shifted on the couch, trying to shake off the thoughts. But they kept coming, flooding.Remembering the first time you kissed, how you just felt like ripping his clothes apart.

And just like that, loneliness settled over you like a heavy blanket. The silence was too loud, and the emptiness too vast. You looked around, seeking something to occupy your time, but nothing seemed appealing. The wine you had with Jeremy and Alan had left you with a pleasant buzz, a feeling of warmth and courage that now pushed you towards a decision.

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the loneliness, but suddenly, you found yourself standing up, driven by an impulse you couldn't quite explain. The thought of Thomas dealing with the kitchen mess alone nagged at you. You had nothing better to do, and the idea of being around him again was too tempting to resist.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed the bottle of whisky you opened a few nights ago and headed to the door. The walk to the elevator felt surreal, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You pressed the button and waited.

As the elevator doors opened, you took a deep breath and stepped inside. The ride down felt both too quick and agonizingly slow, your thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation. You almost gave up the idea and went back to your room a few times. When the doors opened to the lobby, you made your way towards the kitchen, each step filled with a strange sense of purpose.

You knew it was a bit crazy, but the wine had given you the courage to step out of your comfort zone and yes you needed to fuck, and why the fuck not him?

You reached the kitchen door and paused, taking a moment to steady your breathing and gather the courage to push open the door.

taglist:

@deanlovescassie @hellstears @randomfanfics02 @literishdegree99 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @hellstears @rito4ka @alexxavicry @atomicsoulcollecto @Violet_19999 @lyarr24 @woofgocows @milkshakelol @knowledgefulbutterfly @watercolorskyy @redhead7799 @star017 @stuckinmylittlebubble @bat-luna-cat @babaohhhriley @scullys—alienpussy @kassieesworld @deepangelstudentsworld @batgurl42 @starlitjellyfish @velenzia @lyarr24 @Sweetiecake180 @musicsweetie21 @lostgirl219 @slaypussypop-21 @nyenye @izzwizz774 @ooldcardigan @kielsegur @nikkialex @1nterstellarcha0s @mariamx1 @swingingmusicalfunnydragon @illuminwtesz @lazyylover

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hey-august · 10 months ago

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Dadbod Buggy is so good and my personal hc (because how on earth would he pull off a sixpack? I’m not even calling him weak or unfit I just really feel a pirate that’s a tad more on the lazy side and has an affinity for food and drinks would at least not have a SIXPACK I don’t CARE what canon says) so please imagine with me:

Dadbod Buggy wearing something like a a girdle or other shapewear to keep his outline a tad smoother. He feels he looks more respectable with it and it also helps him get back into place correctly after using his powers and HES NOT SELF CONCIOUS ABOUT YET ANOTHER THING ABOUT HIMSELF SHUT UP!!

Imagine him getting someone into bed and being nervous because for all his showboating and boisterous behavior he didn’t think about what to do when the clothes would finally have to come OFF. Tries to dim the lights and hope he can maybe suck it in for long enough but of course his bedfellow notices and… are just completly smitten? Swooning even? It’s not a turn off at all? What- OH OKAY SLOW DOWN SLOW DOWN THERES ENOUGH OF HIM TO LAST THE WHOLE NIGHT GEESH!! Bedmate is in heaven. Actual pirate heaven, where god has blessed them with a man with long hair and thick lashes and even thicker tights, paired with a belly that has just the right amount of jiggle when you ride him like a rodeobull.

Also now got blessed with the mental image of Buggy’s stomach resting slightly on someone’s ass while he fumbles with his belt so he can take of his pants and rail them from behind. hmmmmm fat men ❤️

ANON. ANON HOW COULD YOU. Let me tell you how I needed DAYS to recover from reading this. The way I had to put my phone down while reading this the first time. KICKING MY LEGS AND GIGGLING each time I re-read it!! so blessed 😩🫠❤️❤️❤️

BIG YES to dadbod buggy. To chubby squishy clown man. To rolls I want to smother in butter.

He absolutely would try to hide his insecurities wear functionable accessories. The leather belt corset-looking thing he wears in OPLA seems like the exact thing he’d wear to keep shape. This also works with his whole flashy outfit. Anything to distract from…whatever. Let’s not talk about it. It’s not a big deal.

Until it is a big deal and he has to be vulnerable. Ew. Awful. But you’re right, this is not a turn off. Buggy’s not sure how things turned out the way they did, but the absolute mind-blowing enthusiasm from his partner seems way too sincere and real. They can’t keep their hands (and mouth) off of him.

He didn't expect all the attention - hands running everywhere on his body, squeezing his thighs, groping his ass and trying to get the biggest handfuls of that sweet sweet plumpness, kisses squished into every soft mound - but his partner is loving it. They’re absolutely feral.

They’re begging to suck him off and be smothered between his legs. For real. Seriously. Buggy better wrap his legs around their head. Push them so far down that their face is pressed against his stomach. They want to feel him everywhere. How dare Buggy try and deny them this pleasure????

Buggy still feels unsure the next day. The horniness is gone and so is the attraction, right? NOPE. TIME FOR SQUISHY CUDDLES. BIG BEAR HUGS. The attraction is NOT GONE. They want to rest their head on his stomach. Not his chest, not his shoulder, but his goddamn stomach. It’s the best pillow and they drift off into twilight so fast.

The hugs. Buggy didn’t get it at first...he still doesn’t, actually, but he’ll put up with it. It makes his heart pitter patter when they come up and wrap their arms around him from behind, squeezing into his rotund tum until he grunts and groans from how tight the hug his. Sometimes they sneak a handful and a jiggle of his tits pecs. His pecs.

Finally, slowly, he starts to accept this about himself a little more. It started with wearing pants and no shirt around his partner, despite his stomach hanging over the waistband. Any time Buggy was unsure about how he looked, his partner would be so supportive. They’d hear him out and give Buggy whatever he needed, which was usually a mountain of compliments that quickly turned into flirting and dirty raunchy sex.

Now listen. Imagine with me...convincing Buggs to have a little beach day. No swimming, obviously. But to hang out under the palm trees and soak in the sun. And this motherfucker shows up like a hotshot. Blue hair in a ponytail. Sunglasses. And he’s in shorts. They show so much of his goddamn thighs. You're looking so respectfully. How could you not?? He’s also wearing an unbuttoned shirt. And holy shit, the way it flutters in the breeze. You can see the chest hair on his beautiful pecs and dusting down his tummy. That gorgeous squishy body.

Fucking beach day.

#buggy headcanons #buggy x reader #x reader #buggy smut #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown headcanons #buggy x you #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #gender neutral reader #hey-august buggy headcanons

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bucking-mustangs-with-wings · 6 months ago

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Heart of Gold (5 Times Gale's Heart Gives Out And +1 time Ken's Does) Barbed Wire Hearts Universe - Chapter One

God I can't believe I can finally publish this after so many problems preventing me from both writing and editing it, it feels like it's been too long! But here's the next instalment in the BWH universe. Only one chapter written and edited so far, but I'll be updating when I can with more. This is to add some much needed little details and lore for upcoming plot fics in this series.

For now though, enjoy! This chapter is only a short one, just to give the general start to the fic, but following chapters will be a little bit longer as the story continues (and don't worry, the big plot fics will be longer as always haha)

@swifty-fox @onyxsboxes @stoneinyourshoe @carnevol @trashbag-baby666 @slowsweetlove

Ken stared at the little box that Curt was brandishing in front of himself with a raised brow, taking in the self-satisfied smirk behind still fading clown paint from the day before on the other man’s face. He let the exasperated sigh escape him from where it had been building since Curt first showed him the box.

“You can’t be serious, Curt.”

Curt wiggled the box at him, the item inside rattling gently in response as Curt’s smirk grew. “Oh I’m deadly serious,”

Ken eyed him, judgment clearly written across his own expression as he snatched the box from Curt’s fingers. He looked down at the box, eyes scanning over the words with another sigh, albeit gentler than the one before.

“You’re gonna give Gale a Fitbit, because you wanna, and I quote ‘record the uptight bastard’s stress and heart rate because it would be funny’?”

Curt shrugged nonchalantly, reaching out and plucking the box from Ken’s fingers with the tip of his tongue caught between his front teeth.

“Yes. I think you’re missing the whole point here, Kenny. Have you seen the guy? Man is one big walking ball of stress, especially around Bucky and his bullshit, and all he says is that he’s ‘fine’.”

“So you just wanna prove him wrong so that you have something to brag about, basically?”

Ken raises one eyebrow at Curt and watches as the other gapes slightly, expression turning chastised but no less mischievous underneath Ken’s scrutiny. A hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Basically,” Curt affirms, looking slightly sheepish, and Ken can’t help the knowing smile that curves his lips.

“Uh-huh,” Ken hums. He stares down at the box again where Curt is starting to peel the edges of the tape holding it closed with the edge of his fingernail.

Curt pauses and glances up at Ken through his lashes, scanning over Ken’s face before his shoulders sag and he rolls his eyes.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick. Call it genuine curiosity and slight worry for the sake of one of my best friends and his well-being.”

“With bragging rights,” Ken tacks on with his own answering eye roll.

Curt laughs, goes back to picking at the tape again with a wide grin. “Exactly! See? Now we’re getting on the same page here, Kenny my boy.”

Ken breathes out through his nostrils, watching Curt work away at the tape until he flicks the opening flap upwards and starts to extract the packaging holding the little black watch from its confines.

Curt holds it up, like a prize dangling from his thumb and pointer and looks at Ken with no less pride on his face. “You can even hook it up to your work phone so you have 24/7 access to Gale’s heart rate. Just in case there ever is actually cause for concern. It’s got a little alarm setting and everything.”

He waggles the device towards Ken’s face, eyebrows rising and falling in a suggestive gesture until Ken once again snatches it from Curt’s hold.

The little watch is cool in his palm, and he turns it over to observe it before glancing up at Curt again, lips pursed.

As much as Ken wouldn’t put name or face to it, he couldn’t deny that there had been a few times through the course of getting to know the men in their circuit that he had observed and noticed that Gale, in particular, had a bit more weight sitting on his shoulders in comparison to most of the others.

When he had first met the blond cowboy, all done up in his roping get-up with his stoic steel-hard expression and sizeable buckle sitting on his belt, Ken could admit that even though he wasn’t a competitor himself, that he couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated by the air that Gale often exuded. Especially when in competition mode.

Despite only being a rodeo EMT, it was hard to come by anyone involved in the circuit that hadn’t at least heard of the great Gale Cleven and his achievements in the arena. Coupled with the known talk that the guy was ‘all work and no play’ and advice of ‘just don’t get in his way and you won’t have to worry’, Ken had truthfully dreaded the day that he would have to meet the man and have him under his jurisdiction of care and medical expertise.

The day he had met him, Ken felt like the world was trying to swallow him whole as he was faced with meeting most of the crew that he would be looking out for and tending to if any of them sustained injuries in the arena. He had shaken hands and introduced himself a number of times, friendly smiles and warmth being directed at him as easy as breathing before the group had all but parted in the tail end of their greetings and Ken was faced with Gale.

The blond cowboy had walked up to Ken with his shoulders straight, blue eyes questioning while also exuding an air of careful scrutinization as he’d looked Ken up and down, and Ken had felt like he was about to be snapped up like a bird between the jaws of a cat and crushed between sharper than needle fangs.

He’d stared at Gale, not game enough to break eye contact as the other thrusted his hand out in Ken’s direction, still adorned with worn but expensive looking brown leather gloves. The strength and power behind Gale’s grip alone once he’d taken his hand in to a firm handshake was enough to have him shivering in his sneakers.

But as Gale had introduced himself, Ken had watched as a slight look of warm fondness had broken through Gale’s expression, lips curving upwards in to a perfect smile full of straight white teeth directed at him, and felt his shoulders relax from their timid posture.

“Welcome to the crew, Ken,” Gale had said to him, words soft and sweet and dripping with unintentional charm. “Heard you’re one of the best we could possibly ask for. You might have your work cut out for you though, with this band of hooligans.”

Ken couldn’t help the smile that had slowly crept its way on to his own face in answer to Gale’s obvious attempt at easing his nerves, and he had felt his shoulders sag as Gale had dropped his hand, but feeling no less welcome.

It was from that point forward that a sort of easy friendship had blossomed between Gale and himself, the terrifying tales of strict and hard-faced Gale Cleven all but melting away in his mind until any time he heard Gale’s name whispered with unease from the mouths of any of the other competitors from different circuit teams made him smirk knowingly.

The guy was all bark and no bite, as far as Ken was concerned. At least when it was towards his own team, and he had come to realize that whenever Gale would be the first one to comfort or build up the confidence of the other boys without a second thought.

It was all a structured hierarchy, and Gale had been appointed the unquestioned leader of the group and the overseer to most of the happenings and organizing both between and during the rodeos that they travelled to and from over the course of the season.

It was with that unsanctioned leadership, though, that Ken could also see the immense strain heaped up on top of the cowboy’s shoulders in the thick of it all. And he would be unhesitant to admit that there had been a few times that he had observed Gale in the quieter moments where the weariness and need to keep on a brave noble façade was obviously eating away at him.

Especially once Ken realized that the group’s main bull rider John Bucky Egan was more than just a friend to Gale, and every time the man went in to that arena and sat on one of those great muscled animals, Gale turned a few shades whiter every time Bucky’s dismounts were a little less than graceful.

Ken had also noticed, through several different interactions both with himself and with other members of the group, that as much as Gale would unthinkingly dole out support and softness and strength, that when it came to himself, it was a completely different story.

He had noticed on more than one occasion the cowboy shying away from support directed at him, waved it off with a strained smile or an off handed comment that left Ken with a sour taste on his tongue and a worry settling in deep in his bones like a festering flame.

As much as Gale gave it, receiving it was a whole other ball game, and was met with such a conditioned resistance that Kenny often wondered what was laying in wait underneath Gale’s carefully composed surface. What scars were carefully concealed under a strong expression.

He was thankful for John in those moments, seeing Gale respond to Bucky’s carefully extended supports more than anyone else, but even then it was barely a sliver of open acceptance to the gentle touch, cards still close to his chest and roped back against him and away from prying eyes.

Ken looked back up to where Curt was still standing in front of him, now holding out the charger for the Fitbit and Ken’s work phone that had been sitting on the counter being waggled in his direction underneath an imploring look.

He stared at it for a few seconds, mind running through all the pros and cons and the precarious thought of ‘what could possibly go wrong’ cycling through his head, and let his shoulders sag with an exasperated sigh. He tried to ignore the gleaming smile Curt shot him as he took the charger and phone from his hand.

“Fine,” Ken gave in, switching on the phone and opening up the app store to download the accompanying app that would sync with the watch. “But I’m doing this purely for Gale’s well-being, and to give myself some piece of mind.”

Curt laughed, a smug but joyous lilt to its tone as he walked up to Ken and patted his shoulder. “Yeah you keep telling yourself that, Kenny.”

Ken rolled his eyes, a small smile working its way on to his lips as Curt pressed a loud smacking kiss against his cheek as the other made his way to the door of the trailer, swinging it open and stepping out to leave Ken to hooking up the devices.

“You’ve still got paint on your face, by the way!” Ken called out behind him as an afterthought before looking back down at his phone.

He could hear Curt’s laugh echo back to him from a small ways away outside.

“All part of the charm, baby!”

–

Surprisingly, Gale had accepted the watch from Ken without so much as a second thought, albeit a small look of question directed at him as the watch was passed into his hands. He had turned it over in quiet observance a few times, lips pursed and brows furrowed before he’d carefully pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and fastened it to the surprisingly delicate circle of his left wrist.

Ken couldn’t help the way it lifted a nervous air from his body and mind at Gale so trustingly taking the watch paired with Ken’s words of professional reassurance, and had to remind himself that as much as Curt had palmed the whole endeavour off with the pretense of it being a joke, it also gave Ken some peace of mind to now have a bit more of an insight into the medical signs of one of the most important cowboys in the team.

He also couldn’t deny that Curt’s curiosity had bled into him as well in the face of the act.

“Can’t say I ever really put much thought in to actually using one of these things,” Gale confessed to him, eyes still curious as he looked down at the face of the watch with interest. The time flashed back at him as he turned his wrist, experimenting with the movement of it a few times.

Tapping the face of it, the small screen cycled through his steps, distance travelled, energy burned, and finally the rate of his heart, which Ken couldn’t help but notice was currently sitting at a steady 89 as they spoke.

“You can thank Curt for that,” Ken chuckled, pointedly and casually adding in Curt as the culprit as well so he wasn’t the only one being thrown under the bus. “He figured it’d be a good idea to keep an eye on you fellas, your health and what-not seeing as how you’re all meant to be tip top athletes. And you’re one of the only ones who doesn’t actually have one.”

Gale looked up at him, a knowing smirk on the blonde's lips as he quirked one brow. “You mean Curt’s morbidly curious and just wanted something to brag about to John when I blow my top at him.”

Ken couldn’t help but laugh at Gale’s words, the sound punched out of him in surprise as Gale hazarded the guess and got it as close as he possibly could. He had had a feeling long before he’d even set up the watch that Buck would be clued in to exactly what was happening, especially once Ken name dropped Curt in the scheme.

“It’s alright Ken,” Gale assured him, smile still colouring his face as he winked. “I won’t let him know I’m on to him if you don’t.”

“Sweet,” Ken grinned, holding out a fist towards Gale in a silent ask for a fist bump which the cowboy gladly reciprocated without a second thought.

Gale gave another small look down at the watch as he let his hand fall back to his side, carefully pushing his sleeve down over it as it went to hide the little device from view.

“I’m actually a little curious myself,” Gale added on as an afterthought. “Might actually come in handy.”

Kenny nodded, casting his gaze over his shoulder towards the arena where Brady and Rosie were currently trotting their horses around in circles around a fake practice rig shaped like a steer. He could hear them laughing good-naturedly as they threw their ropes over it, joking amongst each other in friendly competition as Brady missed and Rosie whooped in triumph, arms coming up high in celebration.

Jack, Benny and Everett were perched up on the rails watching with smiles on their faces and chatting amongst themselves, Meatball at their feet chasing something in a patch of tall grass against one of the posts.

Ken pointed his chin in their direction. “This lot seems in a good mood today.”

Gale looked up to where Ken’s gaze was directed, and Ken couldn’t help but note the small fond smile that slipped on to Gale’s expression. Likened it to that of a proud parent looking at their unruly bunch of teenagers.

“Yeah it’s a lazy day today. Figured with more than a week until the next rodeo I’d back off and let them have their fun. Don’t need me breathing down their necks 24/7.”

Ken looked back at Gale with a questioning expression that he hoped Gale didn’t notice. Underneath the pride, Ken could sense a sudden hint of doubt mixed in Buck’s words, smile still evident but more muted as he stared over at the others. His blue eyes were slightly distant, and Ken felt his chest constrict just a little at the sight.

“I’m sure they’ll need your instruction sooner or later with how that’s going,” Ken tried, grinning as he turned to watch Brady expertly lasso Rosie around the middle with the other cowboy’s laughing squawk of offense. Brady’s replying laughter reached them seconds later with a shouted insult barely audible, and Ken could see the fond smile return to Buck’s expression.

Buck rested his hands against his hips with a gentle sigh, smiling up at Ken before dropping his eyes towards the ground. “Yep, yeah, I’d say you’re right.”

Ken saw a suddenly questioning frown pull at Buck’s brow as the other looked back up towards the arena, eyes scanning over the expanse of it, the stands behind and then flickering around. “Speaking of, you seen Curt or Bucky anywhere since earlier?”

Ken felt his eyes slightly widen in realization as Buck’s words sank in and a pit of innocent fear started to curl its way in to his gut.

“I can’t say I have, and I don’t know how I should be feeling about that,” Ken confessed to him with a grimace.

Buck blew out an exasperated breath, shoulders squaring as he tipped his hat at Ken with a smile before making his way past him. “Terrified, would be the correct term, I reckon.”

Ken couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at Buck’s words as he watched the blond walk casually over to the others.

–

The sounds of the crowd spectating the rodeo from a small distance away reached Kenny as he took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke curling its way out in to the air on his exhale in a wispy array of patterns before disappearing into nothing. He adjusted his seat on the step at the back of the med van, the back doors open to reveal the sterile and organized inside, medical equipment stored carefully and tucked away ready at a moments notice if needed while the current rodeo was in full swing.

This one had been going on without so much as a hitch so far, which Ken and a few of the other EMTs were thankful for, leaving them meandering around outside the van without much to do to occupy their time besides talking amongst themselves or scrolling on their phones to pass the time.

They knew at some point they’d probably need to patch up a knee or do the mandatory check over for concussions or other types of damage, but they were taking the peace while they could and being lax in the moments they were afforded.

It left some room for a tiny hint of boredom to thread its way through, but Ken would rather feel that unconcerned drag of time over doing vital signs on a bull rider that got too big for his chaps or be knitting together another cowboy’s split open brow while trying to stem blood flow with a stern hand and hint of exasperation.

The audience noise crescendoed in to a flurry of whoops and hollers by a few octaves, but being where he was Ken couldn’t quite see what event was currently happening around the edges of the towering bleacher seats. It was only still halfway through the rodeo so he knew that nothing truly spectacular was happening at this point, and he was content to sit, sneaker propped up on the tow-ball of the van and scroll for a few moments on his socials while sucking down the last few dregs of what he guessed was his third cigarette of the day.

Thought on the disapproving glance that Curt would be sending his way if the other wasn’t currently out behind the bull chutes painted to the nines in clown makeup and baggy shorts and suspenders waiting to run in and save the day once the bull riders were performing.

Also thought on the way the other would tut in disgust but still pluck the still burning cigarette from his fingers before stealing a drag in the face of Ken’s knowing smirk.

Almost too lost in the depths of his thoughts as he brought the cigarette up towards his lips for another inhale, Ken couldn’t help the way he jumped, startled and nearly losing grip on the burning stick as a sudden continuous beeping blared at him from the pocket of his jacket.

Frowning, he propped the cigarette in between his lips and reached down to clumsily fish what he realized was his work phone from the deep pocket and pull it out.

It was only when the bright words of warning that the current connected device was picking up irregular rhythms did he also manage to look up in time to see Buck, pale faced and looking a little worse for wear stumbling from somewhere over towards the camp grounds in the distance before leaning one shaking arm up against a telegraph pole.

Distress was obvious in the tense line of the cowboy’s shoulders, shuddering on a deep inhale and face pointed towards the dirt with tightly squeezed eyes, and Ken quickly stubbed out his cigarette in to the grass by his shoe and flicked it away as he half rose, alert.

“Buck! You okay, man?” Ken called out, worry tainting the tone of his voice, hand that was holding the still beeping work phone tightening until he could feel the plastic creak underneath his grip.

He kept his eyes trained on Buck’s figure, worry seeping even further in to his awareness when the other only managed a haphazard glance in Ken’s direction, a gloved hand waving out in dismissal before he turned his eyes back to the ground at his feet, arm falling back against his side.

With a groan of effort, Ken hoisted himself up off of the step of the med van and started in Gale’s direction with purpose. He turned off the work phone, silencing the noise and shoving the device back in to his pocket without a second thought.

The closer he got to Buck, the more he could hear the ragged exhales the blond was attempting to get under control and see the trembling shudder wracking the other’s taut shoulders.

Ken reached up one hand, resting his palm on Gale’s shoulder and leaning down to try and catch Gale’s line of sight where it was currently still trained downwards, brows furrowed in obvious distress.

“Talk to me, buddy. What’s happening here?”

The professionalism that bled into Ken’s voice in the situation finally reached through to Buck, blue eyes glancing up to Ken’s face with a blank look that morphed into a humourless smile for a second or two before falling again.

“‘m fine, Kenny,” Gale huffed, shoulder trembling more violently underneath Ken’s hold for a fleeting moment. “Don’t gotta get all serious on me, now.”

Ken chuffed out a laugh, a bit disbelieving as his eyes raked over Gale’s shaken form. “You sure? Because from where I’m standing your words aren’t exactly hitting home for me, Chief.”

Gale flicked a dismissive hand in his direction again, body straightening marginally like he was trying to put Ken’s mind at a little bit more ease if he showed less weakness. It made Ken frown in reply, the minute beeping originating from underneath the cuff of Gale’s shirt where he knew the watch would be reaching his ears amidst the ambient sounds of the rodeo around them.

Gale sniffed, eyes flickering towards Ken again in what he could only name as chastised.

“Was wondering though,” Gale started, tilting his chin towards his sleeve as he brought up his other hand to pull it back and reveal the Fitbit. “That ain’t normal, yeah?”

Ken gave Buck an exasperated look before turning his attention to the face of the watch, and felt his eyes widen marginally but managed to conceal the sudden unease in his expression so that Gale wouldn’t pick up on it.

Knew he had failed when Gale shot him a frown with accompanying worry reflected in his own eyes.

“I’m guessing no,” Gale grinned, forced and fake as he swallowed underneath the scrutiny of Ken’s expression.

“No, not so much, man.” Ken answered, simple and direct. He adjusted where his hand was on Gale’s arm, moving it more up underneath in a concealed attempt at support as he tugged slightly. He was still very aware of the shudders wracking through Gale’s frame, the beads of sweat sitting on the cowboy’s upper lip and across his brow underneath the brim of his hat on an ashen pallor. “Why don’t you just come over to the van with me and I’ll give you a quick look over, yeah?”

Gale shot him an unreadable look, but allowed himself to be guided back to the open back of the med van thankfully only a short distance away.

Ken helped lower him down so that the blond was occupying the seat against the low step that Ken was only on a few moments before, movements a little bit stiff and uncomfortable and made sure that Gale was comfortable before he stepped up in to the van.

He glanced back at Gale’s figure, reaching out and getting the vitals pack hooked up on the far wall and snatching the blood pressure cuff off of the built in bench as he turned.

Jumping back down onto the hard packed dirt, Ken knelt down in front of Gale who was still looking pale but not as frantic as the younger man started retrieving different equipment from the bag that he sat in front of him.

Gale eyed everything speculatively with that ever present frown still evident on his face. “I’m fine, Ken. Really.”

Ken glanced up at him with a strained smile as he pulled the velcro of the blood pressure cuff apart with a stark ripping sound, reaching up to secure it around Gale’s upper right arm with perfect and practised precision.

“Just taking precautions.” Ken assured him. He started manually pumping the small decompressor attached to the cuff. He unlooped the stethoscope from where it was draped over the back of his neck and lifted Gale’s sleeve up enough to be able to press the cool metal against his inner elbow gently. “Alarm went off for a reason, Buck.”

Gale rolled his eyes at Ken good-naturedly, but Ken could see the hint of worry reflected in the blonde's eyes as he flickered his gaze down to where Ken was listening to the thrum of his blood underneath his skin, wincing at the tight restriction of the cuff around his bicep.

“Dumb is what it is, I don’t even feel that bad any more.” Gale grumbled.

A few moments of silence went by as Ken listened intently to Gale’s pulse, holding his breath but allowing it to pass back out in a gentle exhale as everything seemed to be normal at least as far as blood pressure went.

Pulling the stethoscope away from Gale’s skin, he rolled the cowboy’s sleeve back down to cover cool but clammy skin and ripped off the cuff from further up. “Yes, well, as true as that may be right now, I just want to check you over in case. False alarm or not. I don’t particularly feel like having to explain to Bucky why you keeled over dead from a heart attack on my watch.”

Gale let an amused snort escape him at Ken’s words, lips curving up into the semblance of a smile as he kept his focus on Ken’s rummaging around in the med bag below.

“Point taken,” Gale mumbled, and Ken felt his own lips quirk up in reply.

The next few tests went by without so much as a suspicious blip or reading, and as much as Ken was confused, he was also incredibly relieved that Gale didn’t seem to be suffering from anything life threatening. As a small after thought, he reached out and gripped Gale’s wrist wearing the watch gently and turned the face of it towards himself, eyes scanning over the lit up surface and feeling satisfied when no warnings or alerts glared back at him. The heartrate had also gone back to a steady pace, and he let Gale’s hand drop with a sigh.

“Well, whatever was happening, you seem to be fine now,” Ken informed him. He looked up in to Gale’s face from where he was still crouched in front of the other, taking in the now more normal looking complexion and clear blue eyes staring back at him in curiosity and their own brand of confusion. “It might have been just a false alarm.”

Gale sighed, peeking down at the watch hidden back underneath the sleeve of his shirt with a blank look, posture relaxing that small increment more so he was slouched in a lazy lean, an elbow propped up against his knee.

“Fat lot of good a false alarm is,” Gale grinned. One of his hands came up to wipe the remaining perspiration still sitting against the ridge of his brow underneath the rim of his hat. That same hand then rose up to point an unthreatening finger in Ken’s direction, a mock expression of seriousness moulding on to his features. “But not a word of this is to be spoken to Bucky, under any circumstances.”

Ken chuckled, pushing himself up to stand and wincing at the ache that accompanied the movement from being crouched down in the same position for so long. He stretched out his back with a groan. “For once, I do agree with that statement.”

Gale looked affronted, mouth gaping slightly as Ken’s words but Ken could see the humour reflected there. “For once?”

Ken raised his hands in mock surrender, feeling something in his chest warm at the sight of Gale’s barely concealed amusement as he reached out a hand in Ken’s direction for help. Ken gladly accepted, gripping the other cowboy’s hand and pulling him easily to his feet until the other was standing tall and firm in front of him. The other did sway slightly, and Ken held out a hand in concealed readiness in case he needed to keep the other balanced, but in a blink any tilting had disappeared.

The sounds of the rodeo pierced back in to both men’s awareness, and Ken watched as Gale’s focus turned out towards the arena with a sharp turn of his head, the small smile that was there slowly slipping back into something that Ken couldn’t quite put his finger on. He allowed his own gaze to wander over in the same direction as Gale’s before pursing his lips and glancing back towards Gale’s face. The other looked lost in thought, blue eyes far away amongst whatever was running amongst his thoughts as the sound of cheering echoed across the grounds in a muted distant roar.

Licking his lips, Ken hesitated for a few seconds before parting his lips and letting the words that were sitting on his tongue escape in to a more simple question than the true ones he had.

“You sure you’re okay, Buck?”

Gale seemed to come back to the present at Ken’s words, face whipping back to look at Ken with a blank numb expression before his lips pulled up in to a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Though they were soft as they looked at the younger man.

He reached up and let his hand fall in a friendly comfort against Ken’s shoulder, patting it twice before allowing his arm to fall. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. You don’t gotta worry, Kenny, promise.”

Ken let himself smile back in reply to Gale’s words, but he knew that it didn’t quite reach his own eyes either as the image of Gale only a small time before all but hyperventilating and looking moments from death leaned up against that telegraph pole flashed through his mind in vivid technicolor. He could almost hear the ghost of the beeping of his work phone buzz behind his ears.

He almost asked again, taking in the way that Gale had suddenly started gnawing at his bottom lip between perfect white teeth until the plush skin was red and looked moments from breaking apart underneath the ministrations, but something squeezed in his ribcage and he swallowed the words down.

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