#i’ll take a picture of it later :) it’s all red black and white

[carpetbug]

okay today is off to a pretty horrible little start but maribug would approve of my outfit so it’s okay

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 1)

This is to answer a request I received from an anonymous user a couple of months ago “Billy asks shy reader out and is protective over her”, for some reason I can't directly respond to their post still getting used to Tumblr. Sorry for taking a while to write this one. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away and turned it into a short fic, I just loved the whole concept. I’ll definitely post a part 2. Comments and constructive opinions are always appreciated 🩷

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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You have always watched him from a distance.

There was something magnetic about him. Where he was, energy swirled.

You have never spoken to him. He’s something inaccessible to you. He hangs out with the popular crowd. Yet, unlike all of them, he doesn’t seem to pretend. He doesn’t show off. He naturally exudes an aura that makes him alluring. He’s not just what could be called "hot." No, he’s beautiful. When you first saw him in the school hallways, you could swear that for a second, your heart stopped. He was playing with his lighter, walking with an assured stride in the direction of his classroom with Jason Carver. He was a palette of contrasting colors that stood out in perfect harmony. His tanned face was framed by long, golden curls that almost fell over his shoulders. He looked straight ahead as he listened to the boy at his side with his red mouth stretched into a smirk that revealed white teeth. His cupid bow was dusted with stubble. It was no surprise that most of the girls looked at him with no shame, the shyest ones glancing up as soon as he passed them. That California boy did not look like a boy. He looked like a man. You could tell by the way he was built, the black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the muscular legs in his denim jeans.

You had realized that you were staring openly at him when he passed by you and, probably feeling the weight of your gaze on him, his eyes had met yours. There, something had happened inside you. His eyes were the purest blue you had ever seen. They were crystalline. But it was the long dark lashes that gave his gaze something expressive and unique. They were the embodiment of what is called a piercing gaze. It was a unique paradox: as angelic as it was rough in outline. Awakening from your enchantment, you lowered your gaze with an abrupt jerk of your head and resumed putting your books away in the locker, feeling your cheeks on fire and your heart beating wildly.

That was the only time you had even a remote semblance of contact with him. 

As you rush to your English literature class a month later, rounding the corner of the hallway, the last thing you expect is to bump into him. You let out an "ouch" as you collide with his hard chest, your notes and pencil case tumbling to the ground in the chaos. It's only when you raise your eyes in a flurry of apologies that you realize who you've bumped into. You swallow, kneeling and picking up your notes hastily. 

"You alright?"

"Yes. Yes." the notes slip through your shaking fingers.

His hands appear in your field of vision, and when you accidentally touch them, an electric shock almost makes you wince. He helps you pick them up, then raises to his feet and holds them to you. You thank him, thinking about what else you could say to avoid making the situation awkward. His baby blue shirt matches the color of his eyes. He’s even prettier from closer. 

"We’re in History class together, right?

His question surprises you. You didn't think he would remember you. You didn't think he would notice you.

"Yes. That's right."

He holds out his hand, his heavy-lidded gaze on you. "Billy."

You shake his hand, introducing yourself. His hand is large and his grip his firm, but gentle at the same time. That touch makes your stomach tangle. You can't believe he is talking to you.

"You're new, right?" you ask. You know fully well that he arrived here a month ago. You know full well that he is from California. He probably knows that you know, but he doesn't say anything about it

"Yes. Moved here last month."

“Oh, okay. Welcome to Hawkins, then.” you say gently as you absently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence, him probably waiting for you to say something else. You point at the door down the hallway, starting to walk away. “I ah, I have to go to class. Sorry.”

And you walk away, no, you scurry away, almost escaping him, feeling a pang of embarrassment as you replay the scene later in your head, regretting how abruptly you left without saying more. 

You don’t cross paths with him again after that. However, you are clearly more aware of his presence during history classes even though you don’t interact again. 

In recent months, you've adopted a strategy of minimizing your visibility as much as possible. It’s not always easy. That Thursday is one of the hard days. Mr. Jensen, the new history teacher, makes his way through the rows of desks, collecting permission slips signed by parents for the upcoming day trip he has organized to Indianapolis. 

"Ah, I don't seem to have your permission slip yet," he inquires gently as he sees you empty-handed. "Did you forget to bring it today?" 

Feeling the eyes of everyone on you, your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. You hate all of this attention on you. "I, um, I haven't been able to get it signed yet. My dad's been working double shifts, and I haven't caught him at home."

“I understand,” the teacher says, “But I need to give all the signed papers to the principal by tomorrow. Is it possibly to get it signed today? By your mother, perhaps?”

Before you could answer, Tommy Hagan's voice pierces the air, his tone laced with mockery. "She's probably halfway across the country by now, cozying up with some other guy."

You don’t even turn to look at him. You saw it coming. It’s been five months since she left now. Hawkins is a small town, so the news spread quickly. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact with your classmates as you feel the weight of their curious gazes. 

"I uh...I just," you try to ignore Tommy's comment, resting your eyes on the professor whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell my dad tonight. He's just been really busy. I will bring it to class tomorrow."

“If he comes back with the milk.” snickers Tommy. 

You stiffen instantly without wanting to, which the teacher doesn’t fail to notice.

“That's enough, Mr. Hagan. Comments like that have no place in my classroom.” he snaps as his eyes darken, his jaw set. His expression softens as he turns to you. “Don't worry about the permission slip for now. We'll make sure you're included."

As the professor returns to his seat, your eyes remain fixed on the spot where the desk is chipped, absently touching it with your fingernail. Your body fails to relax as you fight to ignore the burning in your throat, careful not to blink, your vision blurred for a few moments. But Tommy's yelp draws your attention and you turn your head to your left, where he is sitting next to Billy. 

“What was that for, man?”

Tommy is rubbing his shoulder, his face scrunched up in pain and a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face. Billy stares straight ahead, his face cold and hard. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" he eventually mutters under the teacher’s explanation. However, it sounds more like a statement than a question.

As you go back to stare at your desk, your throat is still burning but your vision is clear again. You wonder if what Billy said was because of Tommy's comments. Why would he defend you? 

The rest of the class passes in a blur of confusion and unanswered questions. Tommy's hurtful words echo in your mind, leaving you shaken and upset, the sting of their cruelty lingering long after the bell rings.

***

On the morning of the school trip, you are tempted to call the school and say you are sick, but your father comes back from the plant later in the morning and will see that you are actually fine. Also, Mr. Jensen might suspect that something is going on. Only, the idea of spending the day with the whole class, but feeling more alone than you are when you're at school, doesn't appeal to you. You've never been very outgoing. Since your mother left, the armor that covered you has only thickened, alienating you from the rest of the world. To this day you have received no answers. She left overnight without warning. You never received a call. You knew that things had not been going well between your parents for some time. Or rather, your mother kept complaining about how being in Hawkins was suffocating her, how she was no longer happy. The pain was slowly becoming coated with resentment. She had abandoned you and your father as if nothing had happened, as if years of living together had counted for nothing. As if being a family had cost nothing. Arriving on the ground floor and finding the kitchen light off had now become a habit, not an odd occurrence. Other things had become routine: the unaccustomed silence in your house, the TV once perpetually on now always off, the teapot once always in use was now in the kitchen drawer. 

Once on the school bus, you spend your time looking out the window and counting the trees on the distant hills. You can feel the wind blowing outside, the rain pelting cruelly on the window. A crack lets a trickle of air through, making you shiver and clench tighter in your jacket. The ride at least passes quietly, no one talking to you or bothering you. Tommy Hagan keeps his comments to himself, too busy jabbering in the back of the bus with his band of friends. You can hear the occasional shrillness in the voice of Carol Perkins, his girlfriend. 

You spend almost the entire morning in the Indiana Historical Society, following the professor through the corridors of the museum. You stay in the background, drowning out the guide's voice and looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. As you change rooms, you realize that you are not the only one who has remained aloof. Billy Hargrove lingers to your side at the back of the row of students, his hands tucked into his leather jacket. You try not to be affected by his presence, suddenly self-conscious of the way you walk and breathe. You still remember what he told Tommy Hagan the week before. You are increasingly convinced that he defended you. As the class spreads in different directions, everyone observing something different and speaking lowly in small groups you realize he’s still here, on your side.  As you ponder if you should say something, or just assume that he’s walking behind on his own, he catches you off guard. 

“Kinda boring, huh?” 

“Yeah, a little," you respond, offering him a small smile that probably looks like a grimace. "History isn't my cup of tea."

“Mine neither,” his gaze scans the display cases lining the wall on your left. “Beats being seated all day in class, though.”

“Definitely,” you nod in agreement as you slowly cross through another room. Desperately trying to fill the silence, you come up with the first thing that crosses your mind. “I’ve been here before.”

“The museum?” 

“Indianapolis,” you say. You hesitate before finishing your thoughts. “My grandma lived here. I spent some weekends at hers.” 

Billy hums. He sniffs, then retrieves some chewing gums from his back pocket. He unwraps one. “How’s the city?” 

“It’s great. Oh, thank you.” you softly say as you take the gum he’s offering you. “There are some nice parks.” 

He pops the chewing gum in his mouth. “We have quite a few in San Diego too.

You turn toward him, curiosity overcoming your shyness. “You lived in San Diego?”

“Yes. Big change of scenery.”

“I can imagine.” your gaze wanders to the antique objects displayed in a glass case. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks incredible.” memories of your dad's album, from when he was young, flood your mind – images of palm trees swaying in the breeze, golden beaches stretching for miles, and endless blue skies that seemed to merge seamlessly with the ocean. 

“That’s something else, yeah. Honestly, I couldn’t complain at all.” 

“I wish I could see California,” you say a little dreamily. 

“I can take you one day.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. So you let out a nervous giggle, avoiding his gaze, assuming he is joking. Fortunately, the professor calls your attention back. It's lunchtime and he tells you that you are free to go wherever you want, as long as you are outside the museum within four hours. You told your father the school would pay for the student's lunch because you know times are tough. He insisted on giving you ten dollars in case you need it.

You walk down the steps of the museum looking around and thinking about where you could make all this time go. It's going to be long. You know a few restaurants, but you know that your pocket money is clearly not enough to eat there. A gust of wind brings the smell of smoke to your nostrils, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy stop beside you. His eyes take in your surroundings.

“So, you told me you know the city.”

“Huh, yes,” you answer, a little lost. “Not all of it, but most of it, like downtown.”

Billy exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth.  “Are we downtown?” 

You look around, recognizing the skyscrapers in the distance. "Yes," you point to the skyline to your right, figuring he simply wants to ask you for information so he knows where to go with his friends. "It's over there."

“Sweet. You hungry?” 

The silence that passes between the two of you makes him turn toward you, waiting for your response. So you rush to answer, ignoring the way his piercing blue eyes make you feel self-conscious.

“Yes. Yes, a little bit,” then you ask him, unsure: “...are you?”

“Starving.” he resumes walking down the stairs again, and you follow him, trying to figure out if he really means what you think he means. Some classmates are already leaving in different directions. “You know someplace to eat?” 

“I do. But I don’t have enough. In case you want to go together. If that’s what you were offering.” You add, mentally slapping yourself. Why does everything you say have to come across as weird? Besides, you just admitted that you are practically out of money. “I can show you, though.”

Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.” 

“No, really, I can't let you do that," you insist, your voice tinged with concern. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I can't just let you pay for me."

Billy turns to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he exhales the smoke sideways. "Come on, it's no big deal," he reassures you. "Consider it my way of saying thanks for showing me around. Besides, it's not like I'm short on cash."

You hesitate for a moment. But ultimately, you know that accepting his offer would ease the burden on your wallet. With a resigned sigh, you nod in agreement. "Okay, if you insist," you concede, offering him a small smile. "But just this once.”

You wanna immediately grimace at your pathetic implication that there would be another time, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice anyway.

He just winks at you. And even if he’s not smiling or anything, it still makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way."

As you walk beside each other through the park later on, you relish in what surrounds you, not even realizing the silence that has settled between the two of you because it feels so natural. Some people are jogging, there are some families too, or people walking alone headed who knows where. The birds are chirping in the trees that are alongside the walk. You spot a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of one of them, its fluffy tail waving wildly. The late afternoon sun is shining right in front of you, hitting your skin in a gentle caress. Spring is gradually unfurling its colors, bringing with it a glimmer of warmth that has been absent from your life lately. In the midst of the cold and desolation that settled in after your mother's departure, this glimpse of light offers a tentative promise of renewal, a small beacon of hope amid the darkness that has enveloped you and your father. You glance at Billy, realizing that in the short span of your conversation, he's frequently reached for a cigarette. Yet, even during the moments when he abstained, like in the museum and at the restaurant, his mouth was never empty. It was either occupied by a mint, a bite of burger, the straw of his milkshake, or eventually a toothpick found on the table. 

“So, uhm, have you been somewhere else besides San Diego or Hawkins?” you venture. 

“Nope”, he answers, the “p” resounding loudly. He looks around, one hand in his jacket pocket as the other one holds the cigarette on his side. “Never moved from Cali. I was born in Santa Barbara. Then moved to San Diego when I was ten.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Is Santa Barbara close to the ocean?”

“It is. I’ve always lived by the ocean.” 

You turn to him, enthusiasm laced in your voice as you get carried away in the conversation. “So you know how to surf?” 

Billy chuckles, nodding as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “I do, yeah. Surfed every day.” 

“Wow.” you breathe, your mind wandering away. “It must be…like an adrenaline rush.”

As Billy exhales the smoke, you don’t miss the nostalgic glint flickering in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. "Yeah, it's something else. There's nothing quite like catching a wave, feeling the power of the ocean beneath you."

“I’ve heard it’s hard to learn.” you muse softly. 

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps punctuates the conversation. Billy stays silent for a few seconds, probably lost in his thoughts. Then he shrugs. “To be honest, I was on the surfboard since I was a child, so must’ve been natural for me. But yeah, it generally is.

“I can only imagine," you respond, a sense of longing in your voice. You’ve only seen this kind of landscape in pictures or on TV.  "Must have been amazing growing up with that kind of freedom."

Billy's sigh is loud as he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It was. Surfing was my escape, you know? Whenever things got tough, I could just grab my board and disappear into the waves."

What he says lightens some curiosity in you. You wonder what he means by that. You wonder what he went through, what his past was like. There’s something really intriguing about him. But you refrain from asking more, aware of how little you know each other. Besides, you can’t help but notice the little twitch of his jaw muscles as he says it. 

"It’s always been books for me.” you offer. “They have this way of transporting you to another world, making you forget about everything else."

Billy nods in understanding. “What kinda books you read?”

“Oh,” you look at your shoes as you feel suddenly vulnerable. You almost feel ashamed of your taste in books, but you know you shouldn’t. “A bit of everything, really. I’m reading a Dostoevsky one right now.

“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff.”

“You’ve read some of him before?

“I read Dream of a Ridiculous Man. A long time ago though.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, recalling how challenging it was to finish it when you read it a couple of months ago. Reading books by Dostoevsky, especially that one, has been both a cathartic and enlightening experience. They made you feel less alone in your pain. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda controversial.” he grimaces. “It’s a fucking depressing book. But... it's like... there's something about it that just... resonates, you know what I mean? Like, you read it and... it's like looking into a mirror, but... the reflection's all twisted and weird. I don't know if that makes any sense.” he shrugs. 

It couldn’t make more any sense to you. For the first time, you feel understood in that sense. It's a relief to know that you're not alone in finding meaning within its pages. His words resonate deeply with you. 

“I totally get it. That’s part of the reason why I like his books.” 

The subtle revelation hangs in the air with the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the concrete path. You hope he’s not reflecting on your words too much, aware of what you’ve implied. Your own thoughts go on what he said. Why did Billy resonate so much with the book? What if there’s something everybody can relate to, even people who haven’t experienced anything bad in life?

“You?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”

“Born and raised.” you nod. Then you add, a bit sheepishly: “Nothing like California, unfortunately.” 

Billy snorts, flicking his cigarette. “What’s there to do in summer?”

“Oh uh. Nothing much. We have a public pool.” you offer, looking at him. 

Billy takes a drag, his eyes trailing on the path in front of both of you.

“We have Lover’s Lake too,” you add. “It’s quite nice, actually. People spend the day there and have barbecues or campfires.” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that one,” he says. “You guys party by the lake during summer or something like that.” 

“Yes.” then you keep quiet for a few breaths, imagining he’s probably heard it from one of his friends from the basketball team. They’re usually to host parties or organize them. It always involves loads of alcohol and ends up in big scandals. You feel the urge to correct him. “Not me, though. I don’t, uh…I don’t party.” 

You feel his eyes on you. “Makes sense.”

You look up at him in question. 

“Didn’t see you at the Halloween party.”

“The one hosted by Tina Williams?” you soon look away as soon as you meet his gaze. “I didn’t know you…you noticed.”

“Would’ve sure as hell noticed if you were there.”

As Billy's words settle in, you feel a warmth spreading through you, starting from the tips of your ears and flushing your cheeks crimson. His simple compliment catches you off guard, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within you. You find yourself struggling to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering away as you search for some semblance of composure. None of this makes sense. The mere fact that he recognized your absence at the party, that he shared lunch with you, that he's now walking beside you in the park—it all feels inexplicable. You're accustomed to blending into the background, being an outcast in the bustling halls of the school. You're no stranger to the whispers that swirl around you, painting you as the outsider, the comments about your situation at home, the subtle jabs at your circumstances. The silence between you stretches, pregnant with unspoken thoughts. 

“You alright?” you hear him ask.

You slow down, lingering to a stop as you realize Billy has stopped walking too. He looks down at you with a hint of curiosity, the sun caressing his golden skin and reflecting in his eyes, becoming like polished, crystalline gems. That’s when you notice little details you haven’t paid attention to before. The scar cutting through his right eyebrow, the pattern of freckles dusting his nose. 

“I guess I’m just a little confused,” you admit. 

Billy exhales the smoke from his nostrils, his gaze effortlessly fixed intensely on you. “Why is that?”

“I just…” you try to not avoid his gaze. “Why are you here with me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and what looks like genuine confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

His question is so simple it takes you off guard. Makes you question your reasoning. As you’re at a loss for words, you feel a blush slowly creeping down your cheeks. 

Billy’s lips slowly curve into a smile, somewhat teasing. “You really have pretty eyes, you know that?”

You’re positively sure you’re as red as a lobster now, a little whine escaping your lips as embarrassment settles over you. It’s the most instinctual reaction. It makes him chuckle, and makes you awkwardly laugh in response, because what else can you do? He tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your avoiding eyes. 

“How about that? I’m here with you ‘cause of your pretty eyes”. 

“I really don’t think they’re that special.” you shake your head, still laughing. 

You’re not that innocent to not realise he’s openly flirting with you. You’re not surprised, because just looking at him is enough. You’ve also heard things about him and some girls at high school. What surprises you, is that he’s flirting with you. You don’t have that much experience in the love department, but there’s something sincere and genuine in the way he’s doing it now. There’s something soft in his eyes that tells you he’s sincere.

“Well, it’s a shame,” he says, that’s when you realise how much closer you are to each other. You can tell by how you can smell the tobacco and his cologne, his silver earring shining as it catches the sun. He tilts his head again, this time catching your gaze as you muster the courage to lock eyes with him. “’Cause you have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, nodding your head slightly. You swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

You feel like you want to return the compliment because his eyes are the reason why your heart is reacting the way it does. But then again, you’re too shy to do that, and a tiny part of you thinks it would make things weird or would end up having you vulnerable because you don’t know for sure if his compliment is fueled by real interest in you. 

“I just don’t hang out with anyone, trust me.”

As a distant church bells toll four times, their echoes drifting across the park, a subtle reminder of the passing time washes over you both. The realization settles in that it’s time for you to go. You should be back in front of the museum in half an hour. 

Luckily, Billy saves you from answering as he breaks eye contact and looks up beyond your shoulder, where the church is. “We should go,” he says.

As you walk back to the museum, you think about his words. Now you realize that you didn’t see him hanging around Tommy Hagan lately. In particular, today on the bus, the latter was seated with his girlfriend and hung out with two other members of the basketball team. Billy was somewhere else the whole time.

When you two reach the museum, the teacher is already counting everyone to make sure the whole class is there. Billy joins his mates, elbowing one of them in a friendly gesture. You didn’t fail the notice the looks most of your classmates shot at you when he saw you two arrive together. The teacher draws the class's attention back to the trip, prompting feedback and reflections from everyone.

What you don’t expect either once on the bus, is feeling someone sitting on the empty seat next to yours. Billy gets comfortable, making it seem something so normal as he stretches his long legs as far as the cramped quarters allow. His thigh brushes against yours and your heart jumps a little in your ribcage, but a few minutes later you start to relax. You can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest as you take in his choice to sit deliberately next to you. You don’t need to fill the silence, or at least not as strongly as a few hours ago. You’re also quite tired. As you venture a glance in his direction, Billy’s eyes are closed. It seems you’re not the only one feeling tired. His arms are crossed over his chest but his facial features are totally relaxed now that he’s dozing off, his head resting against the seat. His hair seems soft at the touch, a curl falling unruly on his forehead. You feel the distant urge to wrap it around your finger, brush it from his face. There is a difference between now and when he’s fully awake: his expression softened, his gaze peaceful, and his features relaxed. It's a stark contrast from the demeanor you've observed from a distance, where his smile is more wolfish, his facial muscles tense, and his eyes often distant or bored. You force yourself to look away from him, setting your gaze on the window. As the rhythmic hum of the bus lulls you into a state of drowsiness, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the moment envelops you, and soon, you find yourself dozing off as well. 

Once you get off the bus, you wrap your arms around your waist as you shiver. The weather is distinctly different. It seems to have been raining all day. The sky is darkening. School buses cannot take you home because there is no bus stop near your house. Forest Hill Trailer Park is in the isolated part of Hawkins. There is no one from the high school living there, so you can't ask anyone for a ride. It's not like anyone would have offered anyway. You've always walked to and from school, in total it takes you forty minutes. As you start to walk away from the bus, you hear footsteps behind you and Billy is at your side, effortlessly catching up with you. You realize his car is parked a few steps away from you. The gleaming navy blue Camaro stands out among the other cars, ‘CALIFORNIA’ on the license plate.

You take the opportunity to thank him before he can dart away and you will probably never exchange another word again.

“Hey,” you start, turning to look at him. “I just wanted to thank you for paying at lunch today.”

Billy plays with the lighter, making it bounce in his hand. “It’s nothing. How are you getting home?”

“Oh, I’m walking.” you point your thumb at the road on your left.

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Your mouth opens and closes stupidly, then your brain finally decides to cooperate. Accepting his offer feels like taking advantage of his kindness. You don't want to do this. “I…it’s not a long walk, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s probably gonna rain soon.” he points at the sky, walking past you and toward the parked car.

“You don’t have to.” you insist, guilt filling my stomach as he opens the passenger door for you.

“I know.” he chuckles. 

The soft thrumming of a rock song fills the air, the bass pulsing gently as Billy lowers the volume as soon as he turns the engine on. The interior of the Camaro envelops you in a world that feels distinctly his. The smell of leather fills your senses, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne. It's clear that he takes immense pride in his car and the care and attention he devotes to it reflects on the interior. The leather seats feel soft and smooth. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corners. A pair of aviators rests on the dashboard. 

You give him directions, your voice cutting through the quiet ambiance of the car. He nods in acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the road ahead. His left arm casually drapes against the window, while his other hand firmly grasps the top of the steering wheel. 

“It’s quite a walk,” he observes as the Camaro speeds through the road surrounded by the woods. 

“Yeah…”

You’re thinking of asking him to stop before getting to Forest Hill, but it’s pouring and you don’t have an umbrella. As you get closer and closer, anxiety starts rippling through you. You shake the feeling out of your head. You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Additionally, you barely know him. You try and distract yourself, asking him about where he lives instead.

“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?” 

“Yes, it’s a nice and quiet area. It’s not that far from school either,” you observe.

Billy absently scratches his chin, the glint of a silver braided ring catching your eye. “Yeah. It’s quiet, that’s for sure.” 

You find yourself wondering about its significance. Does it have one? You've heard numerous accounts of Billy's involvement in fights at parties, tales of the severe injuries sustained by those who crossed him, and the ferocity of his punches. How many times has that ring been tainted with someone else's blood? Despite the rumors surrounding his aggressive behavior, your interactions with Billy have always been positive. He's consistently shown kindness to you.

Billy turns left, veering off the main road onto a narrow side road, the tires crunching on the gravelly dirt path that winds its way towards Forest Hills. The rain drums insistently against the car, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence between you.

The first trailer emerges into view, its weather-beaten exterior casting a shadow of foreboding over your already uneasy mind. Despite your discomfort, you muster the courage to speak up, directing Billy to continue driving until the end of the road.

You steal a furtive glance at him, searching for any hint of judgment in his expression, but Billy remains impassive. There's no trace of surprise or disdain in his features. His gaze lingers on the scene before you, studying it with a detached curiosity that seems to characterize his view of Hawkins as a whole.

“Thanks again for today, really. I wanna pay you back,” you venture as he slows down.

Billy waves a dismissive hand before settling it on the gear shift, smoothly transitioning into first gear. “I told you it’s no big deal. Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

You worry at your lip, still not totally convinced. You glance at him. “I know that. But it doesn’t sound fair. It’s important to me.”

Billy's gaze shifts to the road ahead as he seemingly considers your words. "If you really wanna make it up to me," he starts, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continues, "How about you show me around Hawkins sometime?"

You blink, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Show you around Hawkins?"

"Yeah," he nods, resting his forearm loosely on the steering wheel as he gestures while he talks. "I've only been here a short while, and I don't really know my way around outside downtown yet. Like, all the places you talked to me about. The lake, the quarry."

The idea appeals to you, though the thought of spending more time with him outside of school never crossed your mind. The fact of spending time with him in the first place was out off the charts for you. "Sure, I could do that," you reply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I mean, I'm not exactly a tour guide, but I could show you some cool spots. Whenever you want, uhm. Yeah.”

Billy reaches out to the compartment on the passenger side, brushing your knee with his arm. He opens it and extracts a pen. 

“Here,” he takes off the cap with his teeth, and before you know it he’s taking your arm, gently lifting your sweater sleeve. 

You try to look unfazed by his touch, though the feeling of his fingertips pressing gently against your skin as he holds your forearm, the sensation of the pen as he writes something on it makes you shiver, raising goosebumps. You look at him in silent confusion as he writes, his dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sharp canine as he holds the cap between them. Then he releases your arm, and you take a look at it while he takes the cap from his mouth. A series of numbers are written in blue ink on your skin. A phone number.

“Oh.” you say softly. You definitely haven’t expected that.

“Call me when you feel like it.” 

It’s really hard for you to hide your nervousness, acting as cool as you can.

“Okay, will do.” you unbuckle your belt, glancing at him enough to give him a soft smile.

Billy nods at you in silent farewell before you close the passenger door. “Have a good night”.

“You too. Bye.”

The warmth of Billy's presence lingers in the car as you step out into the cool, damp air, the raindrops falling softly around you. Closing the door behind you, you watch as the sleek navy blue Camaro disappears down the little road and into the woods from the small window of the living room. As you stand there, the drops of water falling from the end of your hair, you can't help but brush at the phone number on your forearm, tracing the neat handwriting with your fingertips. It's like you're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. Though you're trying to keep it under control, you can't help the fluttering feeling in your heart.

[danikamariewrites]

Heist

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

Note: another day another Mob!Az fic for you all to think about teehee.

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood

You giggled as Azriel lightly nipped at your cheek, his hand trying to sneak into the bowl of cookie dough. “Az,” you laugh out, smacking his hand away. “You can have some later when the rest of the Boy Scouts show up.”

Azriel rolls his eyes at the nickname. “I’ve told you, we are not Boy Scouts, we are-”

“A highly trained and dangerous group of powerful families that are allied.” You say, mimicking the overused statement. “Yes, yes I know Azzy, geez.” You tease, bumping him with your hip.

Moving from his grasp you bustle around the kitchen grabbing ingredients and plates. Azriel’s kitchen was gorgeous, and criminally under utilized. When you moved in it was all black and white, barely any ingredients or extra appliances.

“Oh this won’t do.” You had told Azriel, demanding you go shopping for every and anything you’d ever need for a kitchen. You gave the place a complete makeover, painting the walls and cabinets a lovely sage green and replacing the countertops. Adding an island and dark wood table and cushions to the breakfast nook the room was complete.

Coming back to stand between Azriel and the island you start scooping out the cookies. “You really don’t have to do this, you know.” You shrug, a generous scoop of dough and chocolate chips falling from your spoon. “I want to. Plus, I never really got to bake since work took up too much time. And your meetings go on forever, you guys absolutely need snacks.”

Leaning down Azriel presses a kiss to the back of your head. “You’re amazing, my love.” He says softly. You lean back into his chest, tilting your head back to stare at his pretty face. Turning, you hold up a finger with dough on it. Azriel’s eyes light up at the treat, licking it from your finger. Pushing up on your toes you peck his lips, murmuring, “I love you.”

Before Azriel could pull you to him and go for a more heated kiss, Rhys walks in, clearing his throat. “They’re here Az.” He nods at his brother, signaling Rhys’s dismissal.

A heavy sigh leaves his nose. Holding your face, Azriel gives you one last kiss. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

An hour later you were balancing a tea tray laden with chocolate chip cookies in your hands. The guard at the door smiles at you, knocking and opening one of the double doors for you. You nod in thanks as you quietly make your way to the occupied half of the table.

It was a small group today. Only Helion, Eris, Kal and their second and third in commands, along with a few other key members of their organizations. Reaching between Helion and Rhysand, you gently place the tray in the middle of the table.

The men looked hesitant to reach for the snack at first, but also didn’t want to be rude. “Thank you, my love.” Azriel says, giving you a small smile from his place at the head of the table. “Of course,” you whisper.

Azriel leads the conversation back to their plans, “Now, we can’t stand for this. The Molina family made us look like fools and trust me gentleman, that will not happen again. This robbery has to be big.” Odd, you thought to yourself, Azriel’s MO isn’t home robberies.

The pictures of the mansion in question spread across the table caught your eye. It’s familiarity had you titling your head, wracking your brain for where you’d seen it before.

then it hit you. The paintings on the wall! You knew them because you delivered them! Your lips parted slightly in surprise at your memory.

You felt Helion’s attention on you as he asked, “What’s wrong?” Your eyes snap to his deep brown ones, cheeks tinting red in embarrassment. Azriel takes his tone as rude but you brush it off, knowing he’s just curious about what you’re seeing.

You look to Azriel, not knowing if you have the right to give your input in a meeting. You didn’t want to make Azriel seem less in charge or something.

Azriel gives you a soft, encouraging look. “Go ahead, y/n. Tell us what you see.” You nod at him, dragging the picture of the paintings toward you. “These paintings are fakes.” A confusion spreads over the room as a few huh’s sound around the table.

“My boss got his hands on the real ones somehow, these are like rare pieces, hell museums would kill for these. Before he sold them I honestly thought they were in the Louvre. But he sold them to Molina Jr. who also requested fakes to display, since he bragged so much about buying them. They aren’t very good fakes if you ask me though.”

Helion brought the image closer to his face, attempting his untrained eye to see the falsity of the paintings. Kal snatched it from him, giving him a you-don’t-know-shit-about-art look.

Conversation bubbles around Azriel but all he can focus on is you. You and your beautiful, passionate, intelligent mind.

“Where would he keep the real ones?” Eris asks, breaking up the conversations and Azriel’s concentration on you. Though that didn’t last long. As soon as you opened your mouth Azriel was laser focused on you.

You give Eris a knowing smirk, “His vault, where I helped deliver the paintings.” Cassian and Kal let out laughs or triumph as the others gave you approving looks. Rhysand unrolls the blueprints to the mansion in front of you. “Alright y/n, point us in the right direction.”

Two hours later the heist was planned perfectly thanks to you. You waited in Azriel’s office as he bid his guests goodbye. Kicked back, sitting in his kingly leather chair, your feet propped up on the desk.

Hearing the door click shut you perk up. Azriel grins, strutting over to you. Crossing his arms he leans against the desk in front of you. “I don’t think I could’ve planned that without you.” You shrug at the praise. “Eh, you would’ve gotten by.”

Azriel nudges your feet off the polished wood, chuckling at you. Lifting you up and pulling you into his lap you immediately lean against his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“You’re too modest, my love. Everyone was telling me how brilliant you are.” You giggle, burying your face deeper into Azriel’s chest at the compliment. Hooking his fingers under your chin, Az tilts your face up to meet his shimmering hazel gaze.

“My clever girl.” He hums, pressing his lips to yours. You slip your arms around his neck pulling him closer. Azriel stands, gently placing you on his desk. He nudges your thighs apart to stand between your legs, deepening the kiss. “I think you deserve a reward,” his voice had taken on a deep and seductive tone. That smirk promises a very pleasurable reward. Tugging on Azriel’s dark locks he pulls away from you, dropping to his knees.

——

Tonight is the big heist. When Azriel had kissed you goodbye you plastered a convincing smile on your face, trying to ignore your heart pounding so hard against your chest you thought it was trying to escape.

You were always nervous when Azriel went out with his men for a job. Pacing the TV room, more like a theater, you dug your toes into the carpet to focus on something other than Azriel. You had lots to keep you distracted like a book, your favorite show cued up, your phone. However, moving around was a necessity right this very second.

The first time Azriel went on a job after you moved in was a disaster. You had a panic attack so bad not even Baxian, your bodyguard, could calm you down. Baxian was on the verge of calling Azriel as he walked through the front door. It made him contemplate never leaving you again.

You still can’t decide if you’d rather Az not tell you and just be blissfully ignorant. Or if you would still worry if he was out until all hours of the night. You’d probably still worry but worse.

In the silence you paused at any creaking or popping that sounded in the house. About to settle on the couch to pick an activity, the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.

Staring at the doorway to the TV room you held your breath. You didn’t want to see Azriel if he was hurt. You didn’t think you could stomach the sight of his blood.

Footsteps grew louder and louder until Azriel was staring at you. He was unscathed. Safe. And home.

You let out a cry of relief, running into his open arms. Azriel pulls you flush to his body, tucking your head under his chin. You revel in his warm touch. A smile spreads across your lips at having him back home.

Pulling away, you stare up into his tired eyes. “Everything went ok?” You ask softly. Azriel nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “It went perfectly, all thanks to you my love.” He says, exhaustion lacing his voice.

“Come on you,” you squeeze him around the middle. “Let’s get you to bed, baby.” You move to his side, pulling him along. “Sounds perfect, my love.”

Tucking into bed you couldn’t shake this feeling in the pit of your stomach. Watching Az sleep peacefully you snuggle into his side, holding on to him. Just in case.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 7 - Mall and/or Job

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,884 | rated: G

“Munson Residence, wha'd’ya want?” Eddie groans into the receiver.

Whoever this is better be someone super fucking important to have woken him up with their damn ringing. He’s surprised Wayne didn’t wake up too, but it’d be kinda hard to hear the phone over those snores.

“Eddie! Thank god,”

Oh. Steve! Very important, actually.

“Oh, hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Eddie, can you do me a huge favor?”

“Yeah, of course, what’s wrong?” he immediately spirals into what all could have gone wrong, what could be going wrong. Everything dark blue and cold, vine-y and the flashing of red lightning—

“Nothing, nothing–well, something.. Can you please run to my place later today and grab my lunch? I forgot it this morning and I know I’m not going to be able to run back and get it and get back in time to eat it before my break is over.”

“Your lunch?” “Yeah, I packed one this morning but left it on the counter. There’s a key under the mat and everything.” Eddie barks out a laugh, “Tryin’ to get robbed, big guy?”

“I don’t care about any of the shit in that house.” Steve scoffs. He shrugs even though Steve can’t see him. “Fair enough. Sure Stevie, I’ll bring your lunch; when do you want me there?” “Dude, you’re the best; My lunch break is right at noon, can you be here just before then?”

“Got it. Five to noon at Family Video.” he drawls out as if he’s writing the information down.

“Uh, actually…not Family Video..”

A short two hours later, Eddie finds himself among a throng of people inside Melvald’s. He has to fight his way forward at first, but the crowd thins out as he gets closer to the registers.

Damn, he’s not even that far into the store and he feels like he’s ran a mile.

“Ms. Byers!”

“Oh! Hello Eddie, what brings you here?” “Steve called and asked if I could drop off his lunch to him. Do you know where he is? I didn’t even know he was working here.”

Joyce just grins at him. It’s weirdly mischievous. “Only temporarily, he’s near the back of the store. Just head back there and I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“Uh..thanks. See ya later Ms. B.”

He wanders toward the back of the store through the aisles, but stops up short when a fake white picket fence blocks his path.

The whole back corner of the store has been covered in fake felt snow, a couple of those fake plastic trees like Steve’s (though these are a normal size), a candy-striped ‘North Pole’, and dozens of paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling between what seems like hundreds of string lights.

And there, sitting in the middle of it on a throne that looks suspiciously like the one he used to use during Hellfire, is Steve. Dressed in a Santa suit. With long white beard, big ol’ belt and buckle, shiny black boots..

“Psst!”

He’s got something stuffed into his Santa jacket to give him the right shape, and even some small half-moon glasses, but those sparkling eyes, the freckles, that one swoop of brown hair stubbornly sticking out from under the fuzzy brim of his hat, that’s all Steve.

“Eddie!”

Santa Steve is fully enraptured by whatever story the kid on his knee is telling him, their hands waving every which way but somehow missing smacking Santa right in the face. Steve just continues to nod along, then gives them a hearty “Ho Ho Ho!” when they try to squeeze their tiny arms around his fake belly.

“Eddie!!”

He glances over at the sound of his name, and sees Robin waving frantically at him from her spot at old school music stand-turned-podium. She’s got on some sort of outfit that honestly looks like it was supposed to be a jester costume, where’d she even get that from?

His feet start toward her, but his eyes fall back on Steve Claus, now posing for a picture with the kid who’s smiling so wide it looks like his face will split in half.

Managing to take his eyes off Steve for a moment, he sees Jonathan behind the camera, and that Argyle kid is crouched in front of Robin, talking to the next kid in line to see Santa. All three of them are wearing matching jester costumes.

Eddie steps up to her podium after Argyle and the new kid pass in front of him to see Steve, “Family Video not paying enough, Birdie?”

She rolls her eyes, “Well, the extra cash doesn’t hurt. Joyce asked us to help out.”

He nods at her, and finds his eyes drifting back to Santa Steve.

This kid is much more shy than the last one, tilting her head down and taking short glances up at Steve’s face.

Steve is saying something to her, a low comforting sound that Eddie can only make out the tone of. His one hand covers the entirety of her upper back, and his thumb is moving up and down to try and soothe her nerves. His head is ducked down to be more level with her, looking at her over those half-moon glasses.

Suddenly, the girl’s head snaps up and Steve leans back a bit. “Yeah?” he hears him say.

The girl grins, nodding her head like crazy, then she too is squeezing Steve into a hug. It’s so unfairly endearing, he can actually feel his heart swelling in his chest.

Robin speaks up then, “So..?”

“So?” he repeats dumbly.

“So wha’d’ya think, Munson?” 

“Does he need a Mr. Claus?”

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

“Uh, wait, I mean Mrs.–Do you have— is someone going to—”

Eddie chances a look over at her…she’s wearing a smug, shit-eating grin. She leans toward him conspiratorially and mumbles out “I wouldn’t mind a Mrs. Claus myself.”

She leans back, still looking smug, but there’s a note of panic in her eyes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So would he.” he mumbles out himself, jerking his chin towards Steve.

Robin only shrugs “You never know.”

“You never—what do you know, Buckley?” he asks, stepping closer and pointing an accusing finger into her still smug face.

“I know that there’s some mistletoe hanging above the breakroom door.”

He’s confused for just a moment, then understanding floods through him, “You little—”

A short whistle interrupts his incoming tirade, and Eddie can see Steve Claus moving out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorry folks, it’s time for Santa’s Cookie break!” Robin calls out over the long line of people. “He’ll be back in 30 minutes though, don’t you worry!” the smile falls off her face as soon as she turns her back to them.

Eddie follows her, Jonathan, and Argyle toward the back rooms, “I’m gonna take a nap.” She says, “Tell Santa to grab me before he goes back.” She waves toward a door as she passes it and from the sprig of greenery hanging above it, this must be the breakroom. 

Robin takes a right down a turn in the hall, and Jon and Argyle push out the back door of the building.

He expects more of the same when he opens the door to the breakroom, for Steve to huff and grouse about the kids or the parents or something, but when he does, Steve is grinning ear to ear as he combs through his (now removed) fake beard.

“Hey Santa Stevie.”

“Eds!”

“I’ve got your lunch.” he holds up the brown paper bag for Steve to see. Steve nods, and lays the beard out on an empty chair, taking off his hat and glasses too and setting them both on top before stepping forward to grab the bag. “And you have hat hair.” Eddie laughs.

Steve’s free hand jumps to his head and scruffs up the long hairs, making them stick up every which way instead of just being plastered down on his forehead.

“Better?”

“Sure, big guy.” Eddie pokes Steve’s fake belly.

Steve chuckles, then heads to a table in the corner where he dumps out his lunch bag.

“So what’d Past Steve pack for Future Steve?” Eddie asks, plopping down in a chair kitty-corner from Steve’s. “Bologna and mustard sandwich, Doritos, and half of a leftover Hellfire cookie.”

“And a Coke,” Eddie says, taking a can out of his jacket pocket, “I grabbed one for you from your fridge.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” Steve smiles warmly at him. “You want some?”

“No way dude, you gotta get your energy back after dealing with all those kids, right?” Eddie says, waving him off. 

“Eh, some of them are little assholes, but most of them are really well behaved.” he’s ripping his sandwich in half, “Gotta impress Santa, right?”

He offers him one half, and Eddie takes it.

“It’s really not a bad gig, though the beard is itchy as hell…”

Steve starts talking about some of the kids who have come by in the last couple days of them doing this, having started on that past Monday, the 1st.

There were the kids asking for baseball bats, Lincoln Logs, Malibu Barbie, Rockstar Barbie (“Barbie’s a rockstar now?”, “Barbie can be anything, I guess.”), all the usual things.

Then there were kids that asked for actual Santa stuff, “I don’t want my mom and dad to get a divorce.”, “I wish I had some friends.”, “I want my grandpa to get better.”

“Makes me wish I actually was Santa, y’know? Then maybe I could actually help them.”

Eddie’s heart is definitely getting way too fuckin’ big for his chest.

He puts his hand on Steve’s forearm where it’s resting on the table between them. “You are a good man, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s face flushes nearly as red as his suit. “Thanks, Eddie.” he glances above Eddie’s head then, “I better go wake up Robin, if she naps too long on top of the potatoes, she gets cranky.”

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, better get on that.”

Steve stands up and tugs on his hat, not bothering to put on the beard and glasses yet. The fuzzy white band smushes a lock of his hair onto his forehead. 

“Hold on,” Eddie stands as well, reaching forward to tuck the hair under the bottom of Steve’s hat. “Now you’ll be ready to see your adoring public.”

“Thanks,” Steve laughs, walking with him toward the door.

And of course, Eddie forgot all about the damn mistletoe until Steve’s arm stops him in the doorway.

‘Jesus H. Christ…’

He glances over at Steve, then up at the offending plant.. 

Eddie looks back down, out toward the rest of the store where they’d be clearly visible in the doorway.

“I guess you owe me one, huh big boy?” Eddie chuckles, ‘Stupid plant, stupid Robin, stupid Ed–’

His thoughts are cut off when Steve tugs him back into the breakroom, moves him against the wall, and leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. The opposite to the kiss he’d given Steve three weeks ago.

Steve leans back, a smirk on his lips and a pink flush on his face. “Now we’re even.” he winks, then turns out the door to wake up Robin.

i may have actually kicked my feet and giggled about this one lmao

also, rockstar barbie mentioned here is from the 1986 Barbie and The Rockers set

also, also, i'm getting rid of the 'pre' before the steddie up top, you all know what's happening and where this is going lol - it's steddie.

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year

[cjsoleil]

Love That I Like You (Seungmin x Reader)

Summary: Having just run away from her arranged marriage, Y/N is stuck walking around with a empty stomach and heels that hurt her feet. On the way, she meets a well dressed man who is more than kind to her. Little to her knowledge, he knows her better than she thinks.

Authors note: If you couldn’t tell, Seungmin is my bias.

People whisper and stare at Y/N as she walks down the sidewalk, but she doesn’t pay them any mind. She tries to focus on keeping the pristine white gown she is wearing clean, so she can sell it on eBay later. Or maybe she’ll keep it and wear the wedding dress around the house like pajamas.

Really, she didn’t plan on the day going like this. She has been preparing for her wedding day for months, since it was arranged by her grandparents' insistence. Sure, she was bothered by the idea at first, but eventually accepted the lack of control she had over her own life. Thinking back, that is as sad as it sounds. She never met her fiancé before, and refused to look at any pictures of him out of pure spite.

“It doesn’t matter what he looks like.” She would say, “I might as well keep him a surprise, just like our proposal.” Her grandparents always got upset when she acted like that, but never commented on it. They were just happy she wasn’t fighting too hard against the marriage. The wedding was just a business arrangement for her grandparents, and her fiancé’s parents' companies. It was all explained to her, but she never bothered to listen to the details.

Anyways, Y/N has got a classic case of cold feet and is now wandering the streets while looking for something to eat. She hasn’t eaten all day and is obviously missing her dinner plans. A place to rest her feet would be nice as well. She’s been walking for well over an hour, not wanting to be dragged back to the chapel. But these heels are not made for long strolls, and she finds herself tripping over air in them. The autumn wind brings goosebumps to her bare arms and has already blown her vail out of her hair. She didn’t bother to try to catch it.

After a few more minutes of walking, Y/N comes across a convenience store. She’s just about to go inside when she realizes her problem.

“Damn it.” She practically huffs when it hits her that she has no money on her person. She left her phone in the car and her purse is at her apartment. Sitting down at one of the tiny tables outside the store, Y/N puts her head in her hands and sighs.

‘I could play the left at the altar card’ she thinks, ‘Who wouldn’t feed a crying bride?’ Just as Y/N is about to make herself cry, she feels a tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me.” The soft voice makes her look up to see a young man in his early twenties. He has big eyes, short and soft looking brown hair and a somewhat awkward look on his face. Y/N must say, he is such a cutie. He holds up a piece of white fabric, a vail, “I believe this is yours?”

“How’d you know?” She smiles and takes the veil.

“Lucky guess.” He seems to hesitate for a moment, before asking, “Is there something wrong?”

“Not really. I’m just hungry.” The man nods before looking at the store.

“Let’s go then.” Y/N shakes her head with a laugh,”I’ll pay.”

“That’s sweet, but you don’t-“ he’s already walking into the store, making her follow.

Looking at the man now, Y/N can see that the man is dressed pretty formally. A white button down with black dress pants and dress shoes.

“Hey, where are you on your way back from?” Y/N asks as she picks up an instant ramen package, her other hand still holding her veil, “Cause you're dressed so nicely.” She snickers a little when she sees the man’s ears turn red.

“Thank you. I had a… business meeting. Plans fell through.”

“I can relate.” Y/N had only picked up the ramen, but the man bought much more food for the two of them, despite her insistence that she didn’t need much.

“You are my saviour.” Y/N tells him as they eat at one of the small tables the store has, “Thank you- Oh, I don’t even know your name. I’m Y/N.”

“Seungmin.” Y/N lets out a small laugh.

“Funny, that was my fiancé’s name too.” She pauses, “That makes me sound horrible. I promise, I didn’t leave because I cheated or because of something bad.” Seungmin nods and takes a sip of his coffee.

“It’s none of my business.” Y/N appreciates that, but can still see the curiosity in his eyes.

“It was arranged. I don’t know anything about the guy, except that he has good taste in engagement rings. It’s a shame I’ll have to give it back.” She looks down at the ring. It’s pretty simple, the diamond itself is small and the band itself is sparkly, “but enough about me, you said you had a business meeting? What do you do?”

“I work for my family’s business.” He says.

“Oh, how is-“

“I hate it.”

“Ah.” Y/N nods, a little taken aback by his answer, “So, why don’t you quit?”

“Why didn’t you say no to your wedding?”

“Touché.”

Y/N smiles when she finishes eating, nodding her head to Seungmin.

“Thank you very much for feeding me. I'll get out of your hair.” As she stands, Y/N winces. Damn, these heels are killing her.

“Are you alright?” She waves off his question.

“I’m fine.” She says bye again but after a few moments, she notices Seungmin following her, “Are you following me?” The question is asked without a hint of anger or annoyance, clear by the smile on her face. Seungmin smiles and shrugs.

“I don’t have much else to do.” Now, any other person, Y/N would have told the guy to beat it. But Seungmin is super cute and nice. Plus if the man who bought her food wants to hang around, who is she to object to it?

“Well, I’m just wandering for a while. I don’t want to hear whatever spiel my family has prepared for when I get back to my place.”

“Let’s go shopping.” Y/N looks over to Seungmin, tilting her head, “Unless you want to wear that day.”

“Maybe I do. This-“ she gestures to herself, “- is going to be the new trend.” She can’t conceal her own laughter as Seungmin shakes his head at her, smiling to himself.

“You’re right. Should I buy one?”

“You can have mine, I don’t really like it anyways.”

“You look beautiful in it.” His words are said so quietly, she barely hears them. But she does, and blood rushes to her face. The dress is pretty, yes, modern. But that’s not what Y/N dreamed of her wedding dress being. She wants something like a princess gown, tulle and sparkle.

They soon end up in a clothes store, and after seeing Y/N wince again, Seungmin forced her to sit down on a cushioned bench in the store as he went to get her clothes. She didn’t try to fight him on it, since he is the one paying. In less than ten minutes, Seungmin comes back to her and hands her a bag.

“What’s your shoe size?”

“Um, seven.” Seungmin nods.

“Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.” Before she can respond, Seungmin is walking away from her. Y/N shakes her head with a smile before she goes to the bathroom to change. Seungmin has cute taste, he got her a pink pleated skort, a white shirt and has even remembered to buy her a bra, which almost makes her die of embarrassment. After getting out of the dress and getting into the clothes, she folds up the dress, though she’s pretty sure you're not supposed to do that, and puts it in the large bag. She puts the veil in there as well.

Back at the bench she was at, she sees Seungmin waiting there with a bag.

“Seungmin, you're doing too much for me.” Y/N tells him, but he only smiles.

“It’s fine.”

“Really Seungmin. I have shoes, just go return these-“

“Sit down.” She does and Seungmin kneels right after.

“What-“ he takes the shoe box out of the bag, before he holds Y/N’s right ankle in his hand and begins to take off her heel. That renders Y/N speechless as she watches Seungmin put a nice but comfortable sandal on her foot.

“Okay okay.” She taps Seungmin’s shoulder and gestures for him to get up, “I got it. Get up.” She notices he has a small smirk on his face. Happy that he got his way, no doubt.

Y/N puts her heels in the shoe box and puts it back in the bag. When she stands up, she sighs at the relief of wearing shoes that don’t hurt. “Thank you so much. You’re so kind to me. The minute I can, I’ll pay you back.” Seungmin rolls his eyes and flicks the girl’s forehead.

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I cared about that.”

“Oh no, that’s not happening. I’m paying you back. Give me your phone.” Seungmin blinks at her with his big eyes, but still hands over his phone after unlocking it. Y/N puts in her phone number in his contacts before handing it back to him.

“There. So you can text me later and we can meet up so I can pay you back.”

“You don’t need an excuse to give me your number.” Seungmin says, and she can see a hint of blush of his ears, “I was going to ask anyway.”

“Then I guess it works out.” Y/N grins and they leave the store together.

“What made you decide to leave?” Y/N hums hearing his question, asking him to elaborate, “You initially agreed to your arranged marriage. What made you change your mind?” The girl shrugs. They're walking around a park, having already dropped off Y/N’s shoes and dress at a donation box.

“A lot of things I guess. I didn’t really want to get married to someone I never met, but…” Y/N trails off for a second before continuing, “When I was sitting in the back of my dad’s car, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted. A winter wedding, a Cinderella dress, a horse and carriage, a man who I actually know and love. Then I was telling my dad I had to go to the bathroom, and ran away.”

“Do you feel bad about it?” Y/N hesitates.

“…No. Like, I feel bad for him and his family, since I’m sure they’ll probably be on his ass about it all. But I decided to not let my family bother me anymore. If they want to disown me for this, so be it.”

“Good.” Their hands brush, “You shouldn’t feel bad. Not for living your own life.” Y/N laughs and bumps into Seungmin’s shoulder.

“What about you? I have no right to say what you do, but if you hate your job, you should just quit. We can be our family’s disappointments together.” Seungmin laughs at that and Y/N just can’t help but grab his hand, interlocking their fingers. He doesn’t pull away. Y/N looks up at him, before taking a single step closer. Seungmin tilts his head down and oh my god, she really wants to kiss him.

“You know something?” Y/N starts before she can actually acknowledge what she’s saying, “If I was supposed to marry you, maybe I wouldn’t have ran away.” Seungmin has an unreadable expression.

“I should tell you something.” Seungmin whispers softly, pulling back. Shit she’s so stupid for saying that.

“What is it?” She must have a odd look on her face, because Seungmin snorts.

“Don’t look so scared, I just need to tell you my last name.”

“Your last name?”

“Kim Seungmin.” Seungmin watches as the gears turn in Y/N’s head before a sense of dread fills her.

“Oh my god, oh my god! I’m such a dumbass.” Seungmin nods, “Don’t agree!”

“You seriously thought You coincidentally met someone with the same name as your fiancé, dressed formally who also had their business plans fall through? Y/N, I’m practically wearing a tuxedo.”

“Seungmin is a common name! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He grins.

“I thought you might’ve been able to come to the conclusion. Idiot.” The name is filled with fondness. Y/N covers her face with her hands and laughs, because the situation is hysterical.

When she catches her breath she looks over at the man, who is still smiling.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For what? Leaving you at the altar!” Seungmin shakes his head.

“No, it’s a good thing you did. I’m glad you had the confidence to stand up for yourself, something I don't have.” He caresses the back of her hand with his thumb, “I’m happy we got to meet like this. Or we can pretend we never met and go our separate ways.” Yeah, as if.

“Let’s not. I… I really like you Seungmin.”

“I like you too, even if you're a little stupid.” Y/N shoved him and cried out “Mean!”

When they stop laughing, Y/N removes her hand from Seungmin’s and pulls off the ring on her left ring finger.

“Here.” She hands the ring to Seungmin.

“You sure? You can keep it if you want.” She shakes her head.

“We’re not engaged, it’s not right to keep it.” He nods and the corner of his lip twitches upwards. “Maybe one day, I’ll be able to give it back to you.” Y/N nearly gasps hearing him say that. Then she suddenly grabs Seungmin’s shoulders and kisses him, so quickly that he can’t even react. The kiss would have been longer if they weren’t in public.

“You’re so sweet Seungmin, so cute.” She kisses his cheek before she pulls away. They walk around for a little longer, and Seungmin suddenly voices what they were both thinking.

“Are we going to tell our families about this?”

“No.” Her response is immediate, making her back peddle, “I mean, we can if you want. But I don’t. God I’d never hear the end of “if your dating just get married. Why wait?” It’d be worse than if I went straight home.”

“Dating?” Seungmin repeats, a little glint in his eye, “Who’s dating?” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“We ate together, went shopping and strolled through the park. We kissed like two minutes ago, that’s a date.”

“Ask me formally and I’ll consider it.” Y/N scoffs.

“As if you weren’t ready to marry me a couple of hours ago.” She mumbles before forcing a smile that is borderline creepy, “Seungmin dear, would you do me the pleasure of going out with me?”

“I guess.” Y/N pretends to frown and starts to walk away, only for Seungmin to grab her hand and pull her back to him.

Y/N likes Seungmin, but she doesn’t love him. But maybe one day she will. Maybe, when she goes back home he will call her and plan another date, where Y/N will force him to let her pay him back. Maybe, in a few years he will offer her the ring back and she will take it. He will gain the confidence to quit his job in his family’s company. Then, maybe in January, she will take a carriage ride while wearing a white and sparkly ball gown dress and will meet Seungmin wearing a complete suit. With only a few people to bear witness of their elopement, he will say his vows and that he loves her while meaning it, and she will do the same.

Maybe.

[xkaidaxxxx]

Shoto x Reader

Mentions: Characters are aged up! Body image, Plus size reader, Drinking, NSFW, Virgin reader, cute aftercare, fluff morning,

No proof read sorry for errors

MDNI

Reblogs are appreciated.

“ You should totally go on a date with him. He sounds very nice. I’ll be there at a distance just in case you don’t want to be there anymore or something goes wrong okay.” Mina said and Momo agreed. Girls gotta help each other.

Shoto’s name on the online dating: Senju 

Senju: We can meet up at weston. 

(weston is a fancy restaurant) 

You made very good money but you weren’t stupid rich

y/n: oh um Isn’t that too much? I’m a simple girl. Plus I don’t have that type of luxury.

Senju : You doll up and I’ll pick you up okay. Is 8pm good? 

Y/n: I’ll meet you there and yes that's perfect.

Senju: Okay see you there then. I’ll be waiting. I’ll be wearing black tux with a white and red brooch.

y/n: I’ll wear a red dress then! See you later.

You were so nervous and scared. You hadn’t shown him a picture of yourself. You’re a plus size woman. That was something you’re so insecure about which is why you didn’t date at all. Even in highschool. You did have crushes here and there but when you confess to them they’d instantly reject you, not even in a feel sorry for you way. They were rude. 

————————————————————————

They’d say things like:

“Hell no you look like a blob”

“ You’re a piggy and I don’t date such an ugly thing”

“Maybe in your next life you’ll be pretty”

“ lose a few pounds and even then maybe not.”

———————————————————————-

“ Come on let’s get you ready! You’ll look like a princess once you’re done dressing up.” Momo said. 

You wore a simple but classy red dress Momo created for you. It was short, had a slit to teasy a bit with one strap. Your make up was simple as well. Overall you looked Amazing! The girls dropped you off. You noticed a tall,handsome man with the white and red brooch that matches his hair color. You walked up to him nervously. “S-Senju or should I say Shoto ” you said. He looked down at you shocked. It wasn't that he didn’t like what he was seeing, if anything he was trying to control himself from devouring you. “ Y/n?” he replied smiling. “ Yes. It’s nice to finally meet up with you.” you said. “I lied about my name because…being one of the greatest heroes causes relationship issues.” he said walking inside with you. You were nervous about how dinner would go. “Reservation for Todoroki.” he spoke to the host. The host checked his table. “Yes sir, right this way.” you both followed the host. You were confused on why you were lead to a room with Shoto. “ The waiter will be right with you.” the host said and left, closing the door behind him. It was so beautiful. A private room. Every single detail screamed romantic and sweet. “ Is it to your liking?” Shoto asked as you sat down and he helped you tuck in your chair. “ It’s beautiful. Thank you. You’re very kind.” you replied. He sat down and started looking at the menu and so you did the same. About 20 minutes later the waiter shows up taking out his pad. “ We’ll have Cheesy Potato Croquettes as appetizers. I’ll have Lemony Salmon with potatoes and tensoba. Cold please.” Shoto said then looked over to you. “ I’ll have a lobster risotto,” you said. “ Drinks?” the waiter asked. “ Armand de Brignac Ace of Spades Demi-Sec and 1999 Andre Beaufort a Ambonnay Grand Cru Doux Rose” , Shoto said. You trusted him. He knows his champagne. After an hour you were having an amazing meal. You loved the taste of the champagnes and couldn’t get enough and so while you ate the more champagne you craved. Shoto was concerned about how much you drank. “Uh you should take it easy. It might not taste strong but it sure is.” he said. “ S’fine I’m not a lightweight. I swear.” you replied. Biggest lie. You guys had to leave through the back and since you were too drunk to speak correctly he had no other choice than to bring you to his house to spend the night.

You were at his house by 12am. 

Being drunk makes you tell the truth on how you enjoyed the night and how sexy Shoto looks. 

“ Did I..tell..handsome sexy so much.” you said and hiccuped. He chuckled and opened the door while holding you. “No ma’am you haven’t told me that.” he replied walking in with you. You were getting touchy. Playing with his hair and leaving a peck on his cheek. He set you down. “ Careful now, okay.” he said, locking the door. You looked around walking wobbly. As you were about to fall he caught you. He was tired of holding back and so he kissed you. You let yourself go and allowed him to have all of you. You are a virgin but you thought fuck it why not? He carried you upstairs to his room . The moment was so heated you guys quickly took your clothing off, so desperate for each other. 

“ You’re so cute my baby.” Shoto said, tossing you on the bed.“ Let me claim you.” he whispered in your ear. “ Yes please.” you replied. He reached down to your pussy and played with your clit. You moaned softly. He felt all your wetness dripping onto the bed, spreading your legs further as he pressed a kiss on your pussy. Your cheeks turned red. Eating you out was heaven for him. He hummed as he sucked and slurped so sloppy.. You grinded yourself against his mouth. “Nasty girl. You’re so needy.” he slapped your pretty cunt which made you jump and close your legs. “ Obey me.” he ordered, spreading your legs. Your cunny was aching thinking about the need of being stuffed by him. “P-please. I need you inside of me.” you said with glossy eyes. Your pussy clenched around nothing. He smirked, liking the power he has over you. “ m’kay baby.” he replied, running his tip teasingly at your folds. You whimpered as he finally stuffed your tight cunny making you wince in pain. He groaned. “F-fuck.” you sniffled.  He noticed how very sensitive you are.. There were tears slipping from your eyes. He eventually figured you’re a virgin and he didn’t want your first to be after a 1st date. “ I can't.. I won’t allow this to be your 1st time. It isn’t special.” he said. You nodded. “It hurts.” you cried. You never imagined it being painful then again every woman's  body is different. Even after foreplay some women still aren't relaxed enough to be penetrated. He pulled out carefully. You gripped his arm. “I’m sorry. You must be upset to not receive anything” you spoke as you noticed he was staring. He left and came back with a warm wet cloth. He cleaned you up thoroughly and carefully. You did bleed a bit. “Thank you Shoto.” you spoke. He nodded and tossed the cloth in the trash can. It was definitely a night to remember. You slept comfortably cuddling with him. It felt so natural. The following morning was shocking as you woke up in his arms remembering the event of last night. “Morning y/n. I hope you slept well princess.” he said, giving you a soft kiss. You decided to let fate take over. You smiled feeling happy,“Morning Shoto. I did sleep well." you replied. He couldn't help but carry you and head to the bathroom. You giggled. He was very strong so to him you felt like a feather. "Put me down sho." He refused to obey you. "No ma'am." you pulled his hair lightly. He set you on the counter as he got the bath ready. " Ready for a warm bath?" He asked winking at you, you understood he'd be washing you. You were insecure..no man has ever seen your body, let alone worshiped it. Shoto watched you as you let the warm water surround your body. "You're very beautiful." he commented. You blushed as he started scrubbing your back. " Just so you know. You're mine. Forever." he said kissing you. Your body was trembling with happiness. "Forever." you replied. His heart was beating at a fast pace. He knew that its you he wants to date, to get married someday and have children if you wanted. He wants to raise them and watch them grow into wonderful strong people as you two grow old. He wants forever with you. He kissed you again leaning in closer. He slipped inside the tub. He was drenched as well. Thank goodness this man is stupid rich otherwise there would be water all over the ground. You both laughed, bubbles on your cheeks and foreheads. You began to wash each other up. It was relaxing and intimate.

[munson-blurbs]

You know how eddie mentioned he’s got Playboys? maybe bookworm!reader does for Eddie what he did for her and figures out his favorite picture and recreates it so they can role play again?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), semi-public sex, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up folx), use of pet names, daddy kink

WC: 2.1k

--

Sitting cross-legged on Eddie’s bed, you should be doing some work for your courses. The Thanksgiving break means that you don’t have classes for the week, but your professors certainly didn’t hold back on their assignments. And you’d had every intention of starting on them, but when you’d dropped your pencil and went searching for it under the bed, you found something a lot more interesting than computing z-scores and making statistical inferences.

That’s how you find yourself flipping through your boyfriend’s stack of Playboy magazines, eyes widening with each page turn. Photo after photo of women scantily clad in lingerie—and sometimes nothing at all—stare back at you. 

At first, you don’t notice a pattern among the pictures that Eddie has dog-eared; blondes, brunettes, redheads, curvy, thin, tall, short—they’re all there. No, the models couldn’t be any more different, but they do have something in common. It was almost cliché: your mechanic boyfriend jerking off to women sexily posed next to a car. Of course. 

You take note of one particularly well-used page, slightly warped and wavy, stuck to the page in front of it. The Playboy Bunny in the photo is wearing the tiniest denim shorts you’ve ever seen. Her bra barely contains her breasts, and she’s looking into the camera like she’s been caught doing something bad. Her cherry-red lips match the convertible she’s straddling. 

So this is what Eddie’s into, you think. The two of you have been exploring different kinks ever since your library escapades, but you hadn’t thought to surprise him at work. 

When he gets home an hour later, covered in motor oil with his long curly hair pulled back into a bun at the nap of his neck, you’re trying to figure out how you can pull off your plan. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs, bringing his hands to your cheeks and kissing you tenderly. “Wayne let you in?”

“Mhm,” you nod, holding up your notebook. “Figured I could get some work done before our movie night.”

Eddie grins. “My genius bookworm girlfriend,” he teases, smacking another kiss on your lips. “C’mon, you deserve a break. You can pick the movie tonight. Maybe I’ll even throw in a foot massage.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Either you want sex or you’re feeling guilty about something. Or both,” you add wryly, making him laugh. 

“Y’got me,” he mumbles, taking your hands in his and lacing your fingers together. “Tim asked me to close tomorrow, somethin’ about wanting to get a headstart on the Thanksgiving traffic, and I felt weird saying no…being the new guy and all…” He looks up at you sheepishly. “Wanted to spend as much time with you as I can before you go back to school.”

Your heart melts at his admission. “Eds, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, standing up and looping your arms around his neck. “Gotta make money so we can get our own place next year, yeah?”

That seems to relieve him of any remorse, and he peppers kisses all over your face. But you have an ulterior motive; if he’s closing by himself tomorrow, that’ll give you an opportunity to surprise him.

You spend the next afternoon combing through your closet, tossing aside the fuzzy sweaters that lay on top. Finally, you settle on a cropped white shirt that barely covers your sheer lace bra. Your thong matches your bra, one of the few matching sets you have. The pièce de résistance are your denim cutoffs, shoved to the back of your drawer during the colder months. They’re not as short as the model’s–you don’t own anything like that–but they’re close enough. You slide on your favorite black kitten heels, swipe on some red lipstick, and check yourself out in the mirror; not too bad, if you say so yourself. Hopefully Eddie feels the same way.

At 5:30, you’re throwing on your longest coat and rushing out to your car. The shop closed at five o’clock, and you’ll get there around six, just to ensure that everyone else has left. Are you actually doing this? Are you seriously walking into your boyfriend’s place of work, half-naked, with the intention of re-creating a photo from a nudie mag? What if he laughs, or thinks you look silly? Was this all a mistake?

You swallow your fears as you approach the garage, heels click-clacking along the pavement. You immediately spot Eddie; rather, you spot his legs, since the rest of him is under a black Cadillac. Shedding the coat as inconspicuous as you can, you make your way over to where he’s meticulously working. 

“Hey, handsome,” you nudge his foot with your exposed toe. “Got some time for your favorite customer?”

“Baby?” Eddie’s confused voice rings out from under the car. “Did I forget my dinner at home?”

You giggle. “No, but I did bring something I know you’ll want to devour.” You press one palm against the hood of the car. “Care to take a look?”

Intrigued, Eddie slides out. The wrench in his hand drops to the ground with a clang as he takes in the sight before him. “Ho…ly…shit,” he breathes. “You look…you’re…holy shit.” His brain practically short-circuits as he drinks you in, a grin spreading across his face. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.” No sooner does the word leave your lips is he running his calloused hands along your bare torso, leaving black grease stains in his trail. You press up against him, feeling his hard length straining against his coveralls. “Already so worked up?” you lightly tease, grazing his clothed cock with your pointer finger. 

He nods, tugging you closer so he can kiss your neck. “Got my hot girlfriend showing up at my job, dressed like—”

“Your favorite Playboy Bunny?” you interrupt, watching his cheeks flush pink. “Relax, Eds. You found out my kinks from Fast Ride; it’s only fair that I find out yours from your, um, reading material.” One of his curls has come loose from the hair tie, and you wrap it around your finger. “Now, what did you always dream about doing to her?”

“Not her,” he shakes his head, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You. Always pictured you.” He looks around for a remote to close the garage door. “Get on the hood,” he murmurs, grabbing a rag and wiping the grease off of his hands. His eyes never leave you as you sit on top of the car, feet resting on the front bumper. He leans over you, resting his hands on either side of your body. He kisses you hungrily, fingers flying over you like he can’t determine where to touch first. “Fuck, I gotta taste you,” he mumbles into your lips, fumbling with the button on your shorts. “Bet you taste so damn good. My pretty girl, so sweet f’me.” He brings your legs to his shoulders, taking in the most beautiful view he’s ever seen.

Eddie crouches between your thighs, pressing kisses against your lace-covered cunt. “You’re dripping wet, baby,” he moans. “Bet you don’t even need me to touch you.”

“No, I do. I n-need you,” you whimper. You hear him groan, growing even harder as you beg for him. The cool air hits your bare sex as he tears off your panties, diving in to eat you out. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up your folds, and you squirm at the sensation.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, not moving from his position, “be a good girl an’ stay right there.”

“What if I wanna be bad?” you coo, and you hear him groan as his fingertips dig harder into the plush of your thighs. “Good girls don’t walk around wearing next to nothing at their boyfriend’s job; not when anyone could walk in and see them.”

Eddie’s only response is to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking it harshly. One thick finger makes small circles around your weeping hole before he pushes it in. He curls it slightly, grazing your sweet spot with each little thrust. A mix of his spit and your slick drips down the curve of your ass, and he laps it up like he just can’t get enough.

“Daddy, please,” you cry out, using his favorite nickname as you lace your fingers through his hair, “‘m gonna come. Don’t stop.” He hums his approval, sending that final buzzing sensation through your core and bringing you to your orgasm. “Fuck, I’m coming. Yes, yes, fuck yes!” 

Eddie grins as your legs tremble around his head, and he knows he’s done something very right. He gently lowers them back down and helps you sit up, shucking off his coveralls and his boxers in one go. His cock springs to attention, and you start salivating at the way his pre-cum pearls at the tip. You guide him to the passenger side door and press him up against it, kissing down his neck and wrapping a hand around his girth. “Y’like that, Daddy?” you coo, giggling as Eddie lets out a pathetic uh-huh.

You get down on your knees, ignoring the cold asphalt underneath you. One hand cupping his balls and the other pumping the base of his shaft, you bring your lips to his tip and swirl your tongue around the circumference. You work your way down to the thatch of curls, trying to match the rhythm he’s setting as he moves his hips into it. 

“Look up at me, sweetheart,” Eddie croons. “Want to see those beautiful eyes while I fuck your face, yeah?”

You do as you’re told, though your vision is hazy as his thrusts test your gag reflex. His fists clench and you feel him twitch inside your mouth, and he reluctantly pulls back. Your lips pop as the tip passes them, and you pout. “Not good enough for you, Daddy?”

Eddie shakes his head and gives a terse chuckle. “Too good, princess,” he grunts. “Need to be inside that tight little pussy before I blow my load.” He reaches down to help you up, kissing you deeply. You can taste yourselves on the other’s lips, and it takes all of your willpower to break away.

“Bend over,” Eddie orders, and you lean your elbows on the hood of the car. He positions himself behind you, smacking your ass with his hard cock before dragging it through your slick folds. “Oh, baby,” he sighs, pushing himself into you, “y’always take me so good. My sexy little vixen.”

You whine as he grabs onto your hips, starting off slow and quickly picking up his pace. He nearly pulls all the way out before slamming back in, making you scream out his name. “Thas’ right, tell everyone who’s fucking you like this.” You feel one hand leave your waist, and you know exactly what’s about to happen.

“Y’know,” Eddie begins. He brings his palm to the fat of your ass and spanks it, “when we first met, I thought you were this goody two-shoes.” Another smack to your ass as he fucks you. “And then I found that book in your locker, and we–smack–fucked in the library. Knew you were dirty then, but goddamn.” He breathes out, trying to adjust his grip. “You’re so…fucking…perfect…” He rolls his hips, eyes rolling back with pleasure.

“Faster, Daddy; ‘m so close,” you mewl, and he speeds up. He’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. His tip hits that blissful spongy part, and you unravel with crying chants of his name.  

“Fuck, I can’t hold back any longer.” Eddie pulls out at the last possible moment, spilling onto your ass with a breathy groan. He brings his free hand to the hood of the car, and you look up to see him grinning widely. “That was…wow. If I didn’t already know you were my dream girl…” He keeps staring at you, as though he can’t believe you’re real.

“Um, babe?” you start, “could you clean me up?”

“Wha–oh, yeah, sorry. Just…fuck, you’re so fuckin’ hot.” He scrounges around the garage for a clean rag, snapping one up and wiping his cum off of you. “This is much better than coming on a magazine,” he teases, and you swat at him playfully before pulling on just your shorts, since your panties were destroyed by Eddie’s impatience.

You wrap your arms around his lithe waist once he’s back in his coveralls. “So, that was your favorite magazine. Am I going to find any favorite videos hiding under your bed next?” You giggle as he tickles you and kisses your neck.

“Nah,” he says, laughing. “But, y’know…we could make one.”

[tllgrrl]

Checking In… by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rated: SFW | -500 Words

Characters: Bucky Barnes-Winter Soldier/White Wolf . Alexi Shostakovich-Red Guardian . Yelena Belova-Black Widow . John Walker-US Agent . Ava Starr-Ghost . Sara Wilson (mentioned)

* * * * * * * * *. *

“Hey, Sarah. Yeah…I’m okay. Nah, I’m fine. I—what? No, you’re fine. Fine as…never mind. Don’t get me started. I’m not exactly alone right now.“

Alexi tilts forward and whispers, “Yasha has a girlfriend!?”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, tilts in, “He and Captain America’s sister Sarah Wilson are Doing It.”

“What?” Walker all but yells. “Really?! Sam’s sister? Wow! Say, did you know my wife is—“

“Yes,” the others say simultaneously, in various tones of utter exasperation. “We all know.”

“Hey!” Bucky throws daggers at them with his eyes. “Pipe down.” He wishes he could throw actual daggers. He has more than enough knives on his person for each one of them, but he maintains a cool demeanor on the phone.

“So,” he continues, lowering his voice and turning his back for more privacy, “about Christmas. I…I might be kinda late getting back. No. Just some idiots I gotta take care of here. I’ll call you later tonight if I can. Hug the boys for me, okay? Ndiyakuthanda.”

“Aww!” Ava practically squeaks. “I don’t speak Xhosa, but I know what that means.”

“I’ve seen pictures of Sarah Wilson,” Alexi smiles and nods approvingly. “Good choice, Yasha. Beautiful woman. Nice frame. Almost as nice as your mother’s, Yelena. A good, sturdy woman, your mother. Ahhhh, the way she fills out her blue jeans is—“

Yelena’s chin drops to her chest. “Oh my god, Dad! Stop!!” If her hands had been untied, she would have buried her face in them…after using them to choke him out.

“What!?! Am I wrong?”

“Hey, Bucky,” Walker says brightly, “We do have something in common. We both have—“

“No.” He pockets his phone and feels the hilt of the knife in his shoulder holster.

“Okay, pal,” Walker grins. “I mean, we—“

“We’re not the same,” Bucky growls and stalks away. “If Val doesn’t call back soon, I swear ta God…”

* * * * *

@fleurdelouvemonth 2024: SarahBucky Bingo - “Free Space”.

The photo is from Entertainment Weekly’s preview of THUNDERBOLTS* and shows Alexi, Yelena, Walker and Ava tied up, and Bucky is on his cellphone while watching them.

Thank you @khululekile for inspiring me to finish this little drabble as we laughed about Walker trying to bond with Bucky over their wives, and Bucky wanting no part of that conversation, especially with the likes of him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Fleurdelouve Month 2024 | SarahBucky Bingo

[plotbunny-bundle]

Bruce having his morning coffee looking out the window: "Is that a fucking peacock?"

I made this with https://fakechatmaker.com and microsoft paint

attempt at an image description and more legible text under the cut.

Image description

[a fake screenshot of an unlabeled discord chat. The time marked at the top of the fake screenshot is 9:26 AM.

An image of a peacock standing on grass. A person without an icon labeled Me, implied to be Bruce Wayne comments “Apparently we have a peacock”. The time of this comment is labeled as 7:54 AM.

A person labeled Robin III with an icon of an overhead view of the Gotham skyline replies “oh you found it”

An icon of a black and yellow flashlight labeled The Signal replies “was that not normal fake rich people shit?” Then corrects himself to “stuff” with an Asterix.

Batgirl 3.0 who has an icon that is a block of purple replies “OMG did Damian steal it from Penguin or something?”

Me(Bruce Wayne): “language.”

The Signal: “sorry”

Nightwing whose icon is a comic panel of Nightwing eating popcorn comments “B I don’t think this is an appropriate place to be having this discussion.”

Me replies “My front yard is not an appropriate place for a peacock.”

Robin III comments “@Batgirl 3.0 He did. Exotic animal trafficking raid. About a week and a half ago.”

 Me asks “how long has that animal been in my house?”

Robin IV: “he is not an animal! He is a majestic peafowl who deserves more than to live life in a cage!”  Robin IV’s icon is the Robin symbol associated with Damian Wayne.

Red Hood whose icon is a brick wall comments “WHO IS BLOWING UP THE GROUP CHAT AT EIGHT IN THE FUCKING MORNING!” in all caps.

Me: “language.” Red Hood responds with an emoji of the middle finger.

Nightwing: “Guys let’s calm down. It’s just morning and we were all up late last night.”

The Signal: “I wasn’t.

Batgirl 2 whose icon is a yellow Bat symbol over a black background. Asks “cute what’s its name?”

Robin IV: “His name is Richard”.

Batgirl 3.0: “LMAO”

Nightwing: “excuse me!?”

Robin III replies with a crying laughing emoji.

Red Hood: “Ha that’s perfect. Hold on.”

Robin IV: “it isn’t an insult you imbeciles! The peafowl is a majestic animal that represents the beauty and grace of the flying Graysons!”

13 minutes later Red Hood replies by posting a black-and-white picture of Nightwing in his discowing costume.

The Signal replies with two crying laughing emojis.

 Batgirl 3.0 replies “what is that?”

Robin III:  “Nightwing’s first costume. It was Acrobat inspired. It’s not as bad as the mullet.”

Batgirl 3.0: “Oh I have to see that.”

 Robin III: “give me a moment. I’ll find a photo.”

Nightwing: “don’t dish out what you can’t take little brothers. B has footage of both your first weeks as Robin.”

Robin III: “which means he has footage of you to Dick”

Nightwing: “Caroline. Hill.”

Robin III: “you wouldn’t.”

Nightwing: “you have no idea what I do.”

Red Hood: “I change my mind. It is still worth getting woken up at ass a.m. for this.”

Robin III: “really? Look at your eighth grade textbooks in a while? I wonder if Rena is still around.”

Me (Bruce Wayne) : “enough. Tim Dick stop blackmailing your brothers. Damien you will find a rescue for Richard. We will not be keeping him. Everyone else next time you see a strange animal in the manner tell me or Alfred as soon as you can.”

Robin IV :“yes father.”

The Signal : “well that was an interesting way to start the day.” The time of last comment is 9:25 AM

End ID]

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 15 - post-war indoors fashion

I already need three posts to go through all of the indoors fashion of this season, and it’s only the second. Can you imagine how many posts I will need once they have 200 and more costumes introduced in one season?

Edith has been wearing this blouse to a walking suit before, but now we get an uncovered look at it. Quite cute; while the color isn’t super exciting, these little flower bundles do their thing. And the little black button rows under the collarbones? So unnecessary, yet so lovely.

The art deco blouse is BACK, baby! Have I mentioned I like these? They are something to look at, but they also are cut quite wide and seem comfy. Very brown outfit; once again, this might’ve benefitted from a contrasting skirt. But I like the little scallops embroidered on the top of the waistband, and they seem to have liked it too, as this skirt gets another moment on stage. Also, this was Sybil’s last season, and I hate only noticing repeats like this in hindsight because it messes with my statistics.

Here, it goes with a greenish grey blouse. Edith has a lot of indoors day outfits this season because, during the war, we mainly see her working in the house. She hasn’t quite grown into her confidence yet, daring a print pattern here and there, but rarely a bold color.

Well, polka dots are one of the patterns that turn me off like garlic blooms do Dracula. Edith kind of looks like a librarian here, but I guess that is one of her jobs for the convalescing soldiers. I wonder if the apron is her own or she had to get one from Downstairs.

Is this dress grey or lilac? I’ll tentatively say lilac. The stripes don’t pick me up as they usually do. Maybe they would have more impact if it weren’t for the white lace-ish embroidery around the collar. The dress is fine, I guess; it just doesn’t wow me. Edith, do you wish to become one with the curtains?

See, this is the outfit I meant that looks a lot like one Mary wore during the same season. Only Edith has a round buckle where Mary chose a square one, Edith wears a slightly brighter red, and the lapels of her blouse are longer, but they also end in these little tassels. I also think the cuffs are worth a second look; they are buttoned up, and these buttons are cute. What is it with me and buttons?

This sort of washed-out emerald green becomes one of Edith’s signature colors. It’s almost a shame to introduce it in such understatement, but I do like the structural weaving on this shirt. Interestingly, she wears it again years later in season 4, and it fits into an entirely different fashion just by virtue of how she wears it: Loosely over her skirt instead of gathered in at the waist.

Speaking of color understatements. Edith does have a quite brown- and grey-dominated wardrobe this season, but alright; she at least gets to play with some patterns. And the silk ribbon trim is back.

And a dress where I really don’t mind the dull color so much because the cut is so neat. It compliments her figure, the neckline is flattering, I love the buttoned front and cuffs. Look out, Mary; fashionista Edith is on her way.

--------------

Sybil also gets another of these blouses, and she also gets some soft lilac to wear. I’m not the biggest fan of this big-ass flower print (I can’t help it; I’m a sucker for art deco), but the overall picture is rather lovely. Wouldn’t want to wear this buckle though; that probably pokes her in the stomach if she ever leans forward. Or maybe not; this is still corset time.

We gotta appreciate the simple things. There’s nothing fancy about this knit cardigan. But oh my god, I want one! It looks so supremely cuddly and warm. You know things are bad when I consider taking up knitting again.

More lilac because Sybil is still in her pastel phase, but this blouse has a cute checkered print. And I’m bringing back the apron question, although with Sybil, I at least have a solid reason to think she got one from Downstairs – because she walked up to them and asked for help with everyday knowledge such as basic cooking.

Look at Sybil being one of maybe three people in this house who ever show Edith any kindness and support. I mean, look at this blouse! I don’t know if this is Sybil’s farewell to light blue, but it may well be her farewell to wide, flat collars. The folded lapels give this a little extra though, and so does the tiny strip of lace trim. Yeah, alright; I’ll admit it: This look is another favorite.

This shouldn’t be too noteworthy, except it’s the outfit in which Sybil runs away from home and gets all the way to the next inn. I appreciate that Edith and Mary found her sleeping fully clothed in a separate bed; Branson would have come off as a little too pushy otherwise. I wonder if Sybil picked this on purpose because it doesn’t look like much. Someone running around in a grey skirt and a white blouse devoid of decoration except for a little simple lace on the collar is not who you’d suspect of being one of the young Crawley ladies.

This isn’t so much indoor fashion as it is a work uniform. I don’t have a category specifically for that because it would be a lonely outfit there; since nurses aren’t service workers, I didn’t want to put Nurse Crawley in with the staff of Downton. Anyway. Grey dress with white cuffs and white collar, grey arm band with a Red Cross on it, white apron – it’s all very practical and, obviously, very uniform. I was a little surprised at the head wrap, I’ll admit; I’m more used to nurses of the time wearing these starched little veil caps, but I also don’t know enough to compare specifically British WWI nurses. So I wonder if this was a fashion choice or a historical one.

[luvly-writer]

"XOXO"

Ch 8 She makes the whole place shimmer

-•-

Author’s note: Long chapter ahead! I worked so hard on this and Chapter 9 so please, you are invited to let me know your feedback! Hope you all enjoy!!<3

Warnings: creepy men

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphantom @1lellykins

if you’d like to be added to the taglist; leave a comment below!

masterlist:

-•-

Y/n's leg kept bouncing as she sat in one of the rooms of the Gilded Hall. Her family had arrived early due to the fact that her mother and sisters were part of the organization committee. Yn was always in charge of the decorations and this year she had gone all out. The theme was red, gold, and green and it looked beautiful. She would have enjoyed her work even more if only her family hadn't invited Mr. Moris as well. The moment that he arrived, she had fled to one of the many vanity rooms of the hall. Still, in her white long furry coat, which she maintained to keep her beautiful dress hidden, she waited for Tim's text telling her that he had arrived. Finally, she hears the notification go off on her phone.

She sent Tim her location and soon, she heard him knock. She walked towards the door and let him in.

"Why are you still in your coat?" he asked taking a good look at her.

"I panicked and ran when I saw Mr. Morris making his way towards him. Plus I wanted to make a big reveal of my dress because no one else has seen it, " she said looking down and playing with her coat.

"Isn't that a bit dramatic?" he asked with an amused smirk.

"You dress up in a spandex suit and fight crime under the alias of a bird. Do YOU have room to judge?" she quips as she takes him in. Sleek black suit, grey vest and white dress shirt that fitted him just right. Sleek black pants with black shiny dress shoes as well. But that wasn't what caught her eyes the most...it was the very shiny, very glittery light blue tie he was wearing. She walks towards him and smiles.

"Your tie..." she whispers as she caresses it..

He looks down at her. Even with her heels, he was taller than her. "What about it?" he asked softly.

"It matches perfectly! My sisters are going to freak out. We will look perfect...AND AND IT SPARKLES TIM IT SPARKLES!" she smiled brightly and a part of Tim's heart wanted to keep that smile there forever.

"Yes it does, angel" he smiled.

"Let's go!" she took his hand and pulled him out. She led him around many different passages.

"How do you know this place so well?" he asked seeing as she finally reached one hall. He could see the entrance at the end of it and knew that she was going to defininitely going to make a big entrance.

"How does it look?" she asked and Tim finally turned to look at her. She had taken her coat off and was showing him her dress. True to her word her dress was light blue with a lot of sparkly diamonds. A true winter goddess. She was dazzling. She twirled in front of him and smiled.

"Breathtaking, angel. Doing justice to your name" he said with adoration in his eyes.

"What name?" She laughed and it really went straight through his heart.

"The ice queen" he answered, offering her his arm. "I still don't understand why that is your nickname seeing as of the three of you, you are the least that should be classified as a nightmare," he asked as you both began walking forward. Y/n stayed quiet, the dazzling smile she had on faltered a little. He was expecting one of her witty comebacks or another of her lovely eye rolls and yet he got silence and a sight frown.

“Sometimes you have to be a little bit cruel for people to take you seriously” she said looking down, “but that is not the topic tonight! Ready?”

she changed the subject, tugging his arm and smiling again.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said trying to move past that weird moment. He will store it in his head to investigate it later on.

Once they neared the entrance, the attention was on them. Paparazzi from everywhere were taking pictures and asking questions. Everyone wanted the latest insider on what was going on between two of the most prominent figures of Gotham. Y/n smiled and waved as she hugged Tim's arm tighter. Tim wanted to look at the camera but all he could do was admire her. They posed here and there, he smiled at them every once in a while, but his eyes would not leave Y/n. This made the crowd go even more wild.

Finally, they were beginning to get closer to the Vanderbilts. William Vanderbilt, Y/n's father, stood tall and imposing. He was known to be quite serious. Next to him was Franchesca Vanderbilt, Y/n's mother. It was obvious where Yn got her beauty from. Y/n had her eyes, fave structure, and hair. Not far from them were Aurora and Charlisse with their respective husbands. It is true what they say, there has never been an ordinary woman in the Vanderbilt family. They were all known for their remarkable abilities and breathtaking beauty. Not too far back, Mr. Morris was standing, sizing him up. Noticing this, Tim smirked and decided to pull Y/n closer, kissing her temple.

"Mother, father, sisters, what a lovely evening! I would love to present you all to Timothy, my boyfriend" Y/n said, showing him off proudly. She laid her head on his shoulder and hugged his arm smiling. His heart warmed at her affection, even though he knew it was for show.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all. Mr. Vanderbilt, it has been a while. Ladies, you all look dazzling." said Tim as he flashed his most charming smile.

Yn's sisters smiled at the pair and shook Tim's hand.

"The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Drake Wayne. Our sister seems to be completely smitten over you," said Aurora, smiling softly at how Tim turned to look at Y/n and wink at her, causing her to roll her eyes playfully. "Let us hope that this pairing does both of you good." she finished and left with her husband. Charlisse inspected him lightly and raised her eyebrow at him. "That's the baby of the family, Timothy, one wrong move and I will have every private investigator in a 5-mile radius on you and leave you with nothing." She said with a big smile.

"Ever the diplomatic, Char. Let's leave the threats for another day, please, we are in public" responded Y/n. Charlise raised her nose and walked away. That left them with her parents, who had not spoken a word the entire time. Franchesca tried to give him a warm smile and seemed welcoming. On the other hand, William speaks up. "I hope tonight's dinner helps us get to know you Timothy, we have been anxious to meet you," he said. Something about the way he said anxious gave Tim a bad feeling. Not only that, the way Y/n tightened her grip on him made him grow cautious. What had he stepped into?

-•-

So far the dinner had gone fairly well. They had been seated at the table and people were mingling amongst themselves. They were placed on a straight table. Yn had been seated between Tim and Mr. Morris. To his left, were sat Aurora and her husband. In front of them, from left to right, were seated Charlisse and her husband, William, and Franchesca. He sat directly in front of her father, and Y/n sat in front of her mother.

They had gotten through the first two courses when William spoke up. "So Timothy, is it true you actually dropped out of high school?" Francesca turned to look at her husband scoldingly. Before she could open her mouth and excuse her husband, Tim spoke up. "Yes, I decided to drop out when Bruce offered me the position of CEO, I wanted to focus on the business." William's face stayed stone cold. Charlisse decided to continue with the question, "How ethical is it to place a seventeen-year-old in the position of CEO?" Y/n glared at her, knowing that her sister was playing the same game as her father.

"Pretty ethical, I'd say. He had been teaching me the ways of the company when I had recently turned 17, and he gave it to me a few weeks before my 18th birthday; meaning that when the paperwork was finalized I was legally an adult." Tim responded taking a sip from his drink. Y/n held his hand on top of the table and squeezed it in reassurance. She had warned him of the targeting they would have done to him.

"Say, and how has that gone for you?" she asked, "Surely a kid can't possibly be apt to take over and not lead them to bankruptcy"

"I'll have you know that Tim's mind is brilliant, Charlisse. If you'd been informed, you would know that Wayne Enterprises has done nothing but flourish and grow ever since Tim became the head of the company." Y/n defended. This wasn't the first time they piled up against a boyfriend of hers. (well fake boyfriend in this situation, but they did not know that)

"Thank you, angel. And to answer your question, Bruce went a few months shadowing me so that if I had any problems or questions, he would be there to help. He made sure the transition was as smooth as possible. I am completely grateful for him trusting me with this opportunity and helping me along the way" he answered. Your mother awed at that and smiled.

"I find that difficult to believe," said Charlisse and was about to ask another question when Aurora spoke up, "Charlisse, that is enough. He is a guest at our party, don't forget your manners," she said. Y/n smiled at her gratefully.

"Francis, old friend, what did you say you did this weekend?" your father asked smirking at the old man. You felt your heart drop a little.

"I took a trip to the Met Museum in New York. I had the pleasure of purchasing one of the most lovely paintings I have ever encountered. Are you all familiar with the Le Saule Pleureur?" he said and looked directly at Y/n. Tim felt her stiffen at his words and looked at her questionally.

"I'm afraid that I am not aware of how that is possible. Le Saule Pleurer is not a painting that is on sale," said Y/n taking a big sip of her wine.

"But it is. Your father put a good price on it and now it is currently being sent to my home gallery." Mr. Morris said, sending a chilling smile towards Yn.

Yn felt her heart stop. She looked towards her father and he looked down to his food, unable to meet her eyes. She turned to her mother whose eyes were filled with pity. Yn could feel a knot in her throat. "How could you?" she asked softly.

Tim felt his heart shatter at her tone. He looked at the young girl and placed his arm around her. He had no idea what they were speaking about yet he didn't press much. He decided to observe the room around him. Aurora looked horrified at the news and turned to discuss it with her husband. Charlisse was watching her father and sister intently, waiting for the next move. Something about her reminded Tim of a snake willing to pounce. Then her mother, reached out to Y/n and tried to place her hand on top of hers but only received a cold look. Her father was watching Yn intently, waiting for her next move and Mr. Morris was smirking at the scene. Yn was about to say something but her father cut her off.

"It is just a painting, Y/n. Don't make a scene now." He said dryly, "Besides if you wish to see your precious painting, you know the answer to your problem is clear as day". Everyone caught his insinuation. Tim had deduced that it was something of great value to Yn and the only way she would be able to see it was if she married Mr. Morris. "Father...." Yn began, but wasn't able to finish because the debutantes were going to be presented.

For the rest of the meal, Y/n would only interact with him and Aurora. Mr. Morris would try to make advances to her and she would cuddle closer to Tim every time. Finally, the dinner was over. The debutants and guests were invited to take the floor. Tim took this opportunity to bring Y/n away and give her some space to breathe.

He wanted to ask but refrained from doing so in a very public setting. He could feel Yn was glad that he had not asked yet. A few dances later and Tim went to look for some refreshments, leaving Yn alone to wait for him.

"Miss Vanderbilt" she heard someone call her. She turned around and saw Mr. Morris nearing her. She looked around for Tim but she was too late, Mr. Morris had gotten a hold of her.

"You seem to be constantly avoiding me, Miss Vanderbilt," he said. She saw his eyes scanning her body up and down. She hugged herself trying to place a little coverage. "And that saddens me, my girl. I have been nothing but kind to you all these years and this is how you repay me. I have held nothing but admiration for you ever since your were a child" he smiled creepily.

"Ever since I was a child? What is that supposed to mean?" she asked disgusted.

"I have held adoration for you, your remarkable abilities, and your beauty ever since you were a young girl, my dear. Have you not ever noticed?"

"I have Mr. Morris, and I believe it is hardly appropriate," she said timidly.

"Please call me Francis"He insisted.

"I'd rather not," she remarked, which made the man grow frustrated.

"Miss Vanderbilt, I can assure you it is appropriate, you are 21 years of age. You are surely a legal and consulting adult, I have been waiting for-"

"Surely, waiting for a minor to become legal must be considered an act of pedophilia by some people, don't you think, Francis?" interrupted Tim. He had heard some of the conversation and was absolutely disgusted by it. He had to intervene. Mr. Moris glared at Tim and made a displeased sound. Tim gave Yn her glass and wrapped his arms around her waist. Feeling Tim hug her from behind, Yn relaxed into his body. She felt safe around him.

"I suggest you stay out of the matter at hand, Timothy." He said, straightening his back to try to be at eye level with Tim.

"That is Mister Drake Wayne to you, Francis.. and of course this concerns me. My girlfriend is being weirded out by the flirtations of a man twice her age who refuses to take the hints of her clear discomfort and notice the clear boundaries she has placed." He said tugging Yn behind him, creating a physical division between Mr, Moris and her.

"You are in no good authority to speak to me as such. I will have a conversation with your father about this, Miss Vanderbilt. This is an insult. You will face the repercussions, Miss Vanderb-" he was cut off by Tim

“I can assure you she will not. Go near her again and I will have my lawyers and my father's on call by sunrise. You are familiar with the expression 'a Wayne never loses a case' am I correct? I will have you know if anyone in my family catches word of this predatory behavior you can say goodbye to your public standing because we will make sure your reputation will be considered dead. Have I made myself clear?" Tim seethed. You had never seen this side of him and were taken aback.

"You can't do that" said a trembling Mr. Morris.

"Yes. I. Can." stated Tim coldly, "I have the money and the standing, so test me." Everybody knew the Wayne's name was Old Money, so standing he did have. He was going through with his word and everyone knew it. Finally, Mr. Morris backed up with an angry face. Tim took Yn's hand and let her out. She was too in shock of the situation to say anything.

-•-

[mayson-jarz-artz101]

Umbrella Academy Rewrite

Episode one: The World We Knew (Over and Over)

Part 2: The Power of a Little Sparkle

April 5th, 2019

The Hargreeves family have just arrived in the brand new timeline. They argue on where to go, with Viktor saying they should try to stay together. The siblings eventually all go their separate ways and the camera fades to black with text appearing on screen saying February 17th, 2028…9 years later.

The camera pans over the city and then shows the siblings living their daily lives with “The World We Knew (Over and Over)” by Frank Sinatra playing.

Luther has a closeup shot when a pencil floats past his face. As the camera pulls away and turns around, he is shown to be floating upside down and wearing a blue suit with a NASA symbol.

A closeup shot of a police badge moving back and forth. The camera zooms out to show Diego running in a police uniform. He then catches up to a criminal and he tackles him to the ground. He places his hands behind his back and handcuffs him. Diego forces the criminal up and puts him into the back of a police car.

Allison is shown on a red carpet, flashing lights everywhere. She then turns and faces the camera, holding a bottle of laundry detergent. She puts on a fake smile and starts talking, doing an ad read.

Klaus walks out of a room and the camera focuses on a plaque that says “Dr. Ryans, psychologist.” It cuts back to Klaus putting on a new pair of blue surgical gloves and a new face mask. He then walks down the street and into another building where the camera leaves him to focus on a sign saying “Alcoholics Anonymous.”

Five is sitting in a car, fixing up his suit and tossing a folder into the glove box. The folder is shown to say “CIA: Confidential” written on the front. He picks up a picture of his husband and three kids. He smiles and puts the picture into his coat pocket. He gets out of the car.

Ben is wearing an orange jumpsuit and sitting down at a table with other inmates, playing cards.

Viktor is playing the violin in a bar called “White Violin.” The song fades out into a violin cover and then stops.Viktor sets the violin down and thanks the patrons for coming tonight. Viktor gets down from the stage and goes over to the bar where his wife, Bella, serves him a small glass of whiskey.

———————————————————————————

Bella: Good job tonight, babe. Everyone’s so happy..

———————————————————————————

She smiles as Viktor chuckles

———————————————————————————

Viktor: Yeah..it feels good seeing everyone smile..thanks for..encouraging me to play again. I kind of missed it..

Bella: Well, of course..you needed something to take your mind off everything else for a bit.

Viktor: “Everything else?”

Bella: Yeah..I see you staring at the picture of you and your family when we went to Five’s wedding. I know you miss them..

Viktor: Yeah..I guess I do. We just don’t see each other as often as we should..we all live in different places and we’re always so busy. But…as long as they’re happy. I think we deserve it after everything..

———————————————————————————

A phone on the bar started to ring. Viktor gets up and heads over to the phone. He answers.

———————————————————————————

Viktor: Hello?

Luther: Hey, Vik! I was wondering if you were gonna head down here for Grace’s birthday party…I know you’re all the way in Canada but…It’s been awhile since the family got together. It..It would be nice if you came.

Viktor: Oh..I-I don’t know if I can, Luther. I mean, I’ve got the bar, we’re still cleaning up after Valentine’s Day..I don’t think I’ll be able—

———————————————————————————

The phone gets ripped away from Viktor.

———————————————————————————

Bella: We would love to come, Luther. Send us the details and we’ll be there. See you soon, big guy. Bella hangs up the phone.

Viktor: Bella!

Bella: What? It’s been 9 years, Vik. Your family wants to see you…and I’m sure Grace wouldn’t complain about seeing her Uncle Vik, hm?

Viktor: I-I guess not. I mean, I don’t think she remembers me. Diego probably doesn’t talk about me a lot.

Bella: Quit being cynical and go start packing. I’ll close for the night.

———————————————————————————

Viktor sighs

———————————————————————————

Viktor:…Alright. I’ll trust you on this, Bella.

———————————————————————————

We cut to the outside of an arcade when a white minivan pulls up. Lila gets out of the car and opens the trunk. Another car pulls up behind her and starts honking. Lila freezes in place. She marches over to the car and knocks on the window. As the woman rolls the window down, Lila leans in and looks her directly in the eyes.

———————————————————————————

Lila: If you touch that horn one more time, I’ll disconnect your brain stem.

———————————————————————————

Lila then reaches into her pocket and pulls out a party hat. She puts it on the lady’s head and says with a strained smile “It’s my daughter's birthday. Have fun.”

———————————————————————————

She goes back to her car and pulls out some grocery bags and a cooler. Her eldest daughter, Grace, gets out of the car with her younger twin sisters and an older Stanley, who is on his phone. They all run into the arcade. Lila struggles to close the trunk but manages to do so. She walks inside and sets the groceries on a table. At that moment, Diego walks in, still in uniform. He walks up to Lila and goes to hug her.

———————————————————————————

Lila: Woah, Daddy Pig, Why’re you still in uniform? I thought you said you were going to be in “civie” clothes.

Diego: Sorry, a 10-31 came up..Dude kept running but I caught him. I had to drop him off at the station..I didn’t have time to change over. But hey, I look cooler in the uniform.

Lila: Yeah, well, your fly is down, cool guy.

———————————————————————————

Diego looks down only to see it is in fact, not down.

———————————————————————————

Diego: Hey—

Lila: Made you look.

———————————————————————————

Lila chuckles

———————————————————————————

Diego: Oh, whatever, you.

———————————————————————————

He chuckles and shakes his head.

———————————————————————————

Diego: Say, did you get the piñata? No party is complete without one.

Lila: Yes, I got the damn piñata..it’s over there, I haven’t hung it yet..

———————————————————————————

Diego looks over. That isn’t the piñata from the store he had asked earlier.

———————————————————————————

Diego:…Is that the one from the east side store? I told you the ones on the west side are better…that one is basically impossible to destroy.

Lila: well…the east side store was closer. It’s fine, it’ll still get the job done.

———————————————————————————

Lila walks off.

At that moment, Luther walks in with his wife, Mallie, and their five kids. Luther walks up to Diego and they bro hug.

———————————————————————————

Diego: Hey, bro! Good to see you again, glad you could make it.

Luther: Oh, yeah! We were really excited to come here. Y’know, Dimitri loves hanging out with Grace so..we wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Diego: I can’t remember all of your kids, man. You need to lay off Mallie. I turn around for a second and suddenly there’s two more kids.

———————————————————————————

Luther smiles happily.

———————————————————————————

Luther: Well..What can I say? We’re happy. Maybe we should have two more…bring up the next Umbrella Academy.

Diego: Oh, god…an Umbrella Academy full of Luther’s. I think I had a nightmare about that once.

Luther: Shut up. Anyway…Look who I got out on a day pass.

———————————————————————————

The camera panned over to Ben leaning against the wall, as far from the party as he could.

———————————————————————————

Diego: Dude…you brought that asshole to my kids birthday party? He’s a criminal! He’s…He’s not even our Ben. He’s like the..shitty knock off Ben.

Luther: Hey, Hey..Dad—

Diego: Luther. Don’t.

Luther:…A certain man adopted all of us. Even if it's a different timeline…He’s our brother, in a way. He deserves a chance. Plus…it’s not like he killed someone. He got arrested for doing what you used to do.

Diego: What I did was different. I actually trained. I was an actual hero. Not some diva thinking I was.

Luther: Diego, come on. Let him. Lila was a crazy spy..yet here she is.

———————————————————————————

Diego sighs and rubs his eyes.

———————————————————————————

Diego: Fine. But he stays away from my kids. And the alcohol. It’s my booze. I paid for it with my legal money.

———————————————————————————

Diego walks away. Luther heads over to Ben and hands him a canned soda.

———————————————————————————

Luther: Hey, Buddy. Having fun?

Ben:…Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.

Luther: Sorry…you kinda get used to it after doing it for so long. But, seriously…you having fun?

Ben: Prison is more fun than this.

Luther: Well..tomorrow, you get to go back.

Ben: Either way, you’ll still find a way to bother me.

Luther: Of course, I’m your brother..it’s what we do.

Ben: You’re not my brother. My brothers are dead. The only one here is Jackson and it’s not even him.

Luther: well..yeah. I get it…you’re not our Ben either…but you’re still our brother.

———————————————————————————

Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes.

———————————————————————————

Ben: Whatever…

———————————————————————————

Ben walks away and the camera cuts over to Five walking in with his family.

———————————————————————————

Five: I’ll try to stay as long as I can, Jack…I just got a lead in my case.

Jackson: I know, but your niece doesn’t see you that often and I’m sure she’d be happy to. Also…these are your siblings.

Five: I know, I know.

———————————————————————————

Five kisses his cheek and walks over to Diego. He leans over a railing.

———————————————————————————

Diego: Five, good you could make it…hey, did your boss get my resume?

Five: Uh…I wouldn’t know. I’m not his file keeper.

Diego: I’m telling you, he’s not gonna regret it. I’ve been awesome as a cop.

Five: Yup…so I’ve heard. Y’know how the others have been?

Diego: Well…I’ve seen Allison on tv. Seems like she isn’t doing too bad. Klaus…Jesus, that guys rough. He was an alcoholic druggie…an alcoholic druggie cult leader…a sober idiot…now he’s a massive germaphobe.

Five: A germaphobe?

Diego: Yeah, big time. He lives in Allison’s basement…I don’t know how Beatriz handles it. He’s got a kid now, too.

Five: I’m sure that kid will be just as sane.

———————————————————————————

The camera cuts to Klaus walking in, pushing a stroller. Next to him are Beatriz and Claire. Klaus stops and looks around. He takes out a box of gloves and masks and replaces the ones he’s wearing.

———————————————————————————

Klaus: Hang on, Claire-bear, let uncle Klaus get situated…arcades are known to be the filthiest places on earth..next to dive bars and movie theaters.

Claire: I..don’t know where you get your info from, Uncle Klaus. It’s gonna be alright…I’m…sure your brother knows how weird you are. So he’s prepared.

Klaus: yeah, I suppose so…here, don’t forget your hand sanitizer..and your mask. And gloves! And remember, stay and arms length—

Claire: —away from everyone, I got it..don’t worry.

———————————————————————————

Claire walks away and goes over to Grace and gives her a hug. Klaus panics a little bit but Beatriz pats his back and tells him it’s okay.

Theon walks in with Emme, the Swedes and Fei. The Swedes set some gifts onto a table and Emme walks off, going over to Stanley.

Viktor walks in with Bella. Viktor gives Diego a hug and they start chatting away about life.

A montage starts playing of everyone having a good time at the party.

Stanley and Emme put mentos into peoples sodas, running off and laughing.

Lila goes outside to get something from the car. She notices Allison and heads over, noticing her smoking. She takes it from her and takes a smoke, smiling. They talk a bit before going inside.

Luther helps the kids hit the piñata.

Ben is still standing against the wall, but Five joins him and they have a small talk.

Klaus is happily talking with Lila and Theon’s family, with Theon sitting next to them, clearly embarrassed.

Diego brings out the cake but Luther accidentally bumps into him, causing him to drop the cake. Diego looks up at Luther and stares at him. As Grace lets out a scream of “MY CAKE!”, Lila appears, holding another cake.

———————————————————————————

Lila:…What? This family is a disaster, I planned for this.

———————————————————————————

Diego laughs and he takes the cake from her, setting it on a table. He puts candles on it and Grace blows it out. He helps Grace cut into cake to give everyone slices.

As the night goes on, the party slowly comes to an end, with everyone saying their goodbyes and giving hugs.

Five goes over to Jackson.

———————————————————————————

Five: Hey…sorry, but I can’t head home after this. Something came up with the case…

Jackson: Alright…just be careful, Five. I don’t want you to die in your god awful disguise.

Five: What’s wrong with my disguise?

Jackson:…the fake mustache. The name. “Jerome”…come on, anything is better than that.

Five: I’ll run it by you next time, then. I’ll see you later tonight, okay?

———————————————————————————

Five kisses him and walks out to his car. He gets in and he puts on his disguise. He drives to a building and walks in, looking around.

A woman walks up to him and grabs his shoulder.

———————————————————————————

Lila: Hey, big boy.

Five: Li—

———————————————————————————

He noticed her name tag, “Nancy.”

———————————————————————————

Five:…What are you doing here?

Lila: I’m interested in what they have to say. Aren’t you?

Five: Whatever. Just…stay out of the way.

———————————————————————————

Five leans in and whispers.

———————————————————————————

Five: I don’t need you compromising my mission.

———————————————————————————

Lila leans in too, whispering.

———————————————————————————

Lila: Nor do I.

———————————————————————————

She smirks and takes him over to some seats. They sit down and the lights dim. A projection appears on a screen, showing a picture of an open upside down umbrella being held by a sparrow.

Five looks at the screen, slightly confused. How do they know about the sparrows? The umbrellas?

As he ponders, a man and woman walk onto a small stage and stands in front of a podium.

———————————————————————————

Woman: Welcome to our weekly meeting…it’s so good to see all of you here. We’ve got some old faces…and we have some new ones. For the new friends, my name is Jean…and my husband is Gene Thibadaeu. We study various possible timelines. Now, please, give a round of applause to our newest members, Nancy and Jerome.

———————————————————————————

Applause fills the room and then dies down.

———————————————————————————

Jean: Lovely to meet you both..

———————————————————————————

She gives a warm smile. Lila leans over to Five and whispers.

———————————————————————————

Lila: She seems like a sweet old lady.

Five: So did the handler.

Lila: Touchè…

———————————————————————————

Gene clicks a button on a remote, changing the slide.

———————————————————————————

Jean: As many of you know…we have been collecting relics for a very long time. Relics of other timelines. Most people don’t believe us…they think we’re crazy. But as you see here…Carriages with umbrellas and birds. Little figures wearing similar uniforms and masks, one of which has tentacles coming out of his chest. Two masks, a blue bear and a pink dog.

———————————————————————————

Five whispers to himself

———————————————————————————

Five: Hazel and Cha-Cha…

———————————————————————————

Gene presses the button again.

———————————————————————————

Jean: There have been no records of any of these existing. Anywhere. But today…me and my husband bought a new piece. Some of you may know the movie “Love on Loan.” A romantic comedy, nothing special..but the one we bought stars a different actress. A woman named “Allison Hargreeves.”

Gene: You heard her right. The very same Hargreeves who owns half of this city. We checked all official records…this man has no known children or family, nor does his wife. And this Allison woman doesn’t exist either. So…who is she? Why was she replaced?

Jean: Good question, Gene. We believe…she was from another timeline. One that was destroyed in “the cleanse.”

———————————————————————————

Gasps are heard around the room. Five and Lila look at each other. Five whispers to Lila.

———————————————————————————

Five: what’s “the cleanse”?

Lila: hell if I know, I just got here.

———————————————————————————

Jean coughs and looks at Five and Lila.

———————————————————————————

Jean: Very chatty, Nancy and Jerome. Perhaps you’d like to share?

———————————————————————————

Five stands up.

———————————————————————————

Five: Yes, actually. I’d like to know what this “cleanse” is. I’ve never heard of it.

Jean: why…it’s the very cornerstone of our little group here. We believe that at some point, every timeline that exists…is destroyed. And each timeline will collapse until we are left with the perfect one.

Five: And what is the perfect timeline?

Gene: Not this one, if that’s what you’re getting at. You and I won’t be around to see it…but our other versions will be. They are. They’re living their lives right now, not a care in the world.

Five: How do you know?

Gene: We’ve seen it, boy. Visions…we can’t deny it. And the cleanse is coming…and it’s coming soon.

Five: I..see.

———————————————————————————

Five slowly sits down again. Jean and Gene continue their presentation. As time passes by, the presentation ends and everyone begins to leave the room. Lila and Five look at each other and get up to leave. Gene steps in front of them.

———————————————————————————

Gene: Good to have you two here. So..inquisitive. That’s good around here. Questions give you answers and answers give you satisfaction. I hope we’ll be seeing you at the next meeting…

Five: You will. Don’t worry.

———————————————————————————

Five walks past with Lila and goes to his car. He sighs and gets in. Lila gets into the passenger seat. Five looks over.

———————————————————————————

Five: What are you doing?

Lila: Hitching a ride. I walked here, y’know. Ooh, let’s go to a cafe, I’m starved. There’s a good one just up the road.

Five: No. I need to go home, Jackson’s probably worried…

Lila: It’ll be fine. Just go!

———————————————————————————

Five sighs and says “Fine.” He drives to the cafe and they go inside, order food and sit down.

———————————————————————————

Five: so..wanna say why you’re really here?

———————————————————————————

Lila has her mouth full.

———————————————————————————

Lila:…because I’m hungry?

Five: No! Why you were at the meeting. You’re…a mom.

Lila:…and you’re a dad? What’s the difference?

Five: Just answer the damn question.

Lila: I was bored, alright? Can’t just “be a mom”…I was something before…at the commission. It’s hard now…I’ve got to do everything for my family…I’ve got no time to myself.

Five: So…you're using it as an escape. I see…well…you should stop. This mission is bigger than you. I’ve got the resources…this is my actual job. You’re playing pretend. You should go back home before this all falls apart..

Lila: Says you. You’ve got your kids and Jackson..

Five: I know. Sometimes I regret taking the job…but it ensures he lives the life he wanted. And that’s all that matters.

Lila: I guess. Well, I’m done…perhaps I’ll see you next week, hm?

———————————————————————————

She smirks and gets up. Five watches as she leaves. The camera pans out to reveal Diego parked in front of the cafe, watching Lila. He narrows his eyes, angry. At Lila. At Five.

Five gets up and walks out to his car. He noticed a little note on his windshield with the number 5 on it. He takes it and opens it. Written on the note are two numbers. What could it mean?

End of episode one

[rafeverse]

the new plug

CW: r sells weed

“goddamn, bro” rafe coughed, carefully handing the red bong back to kelce. “this is some good shit.”

“fuck yeah it is. i got it from my new plug, got the best weed you’ll ever smoke in your life.” kelce placed the bong back on the table in front of him.

“what happened to that other dude you were buying from? leo or some shit?” rafe asked, prepping the bowl to take another hit.

kelce shook his head, “he’s a fucking bitch. he scammed me and then just disappeared. nobody’s seen him.”

rafe nodded, carefully lighting the bowl. “so, who’s your new guy?”

“actually,” kelce’s face lit up with a boyish smile. “it’s a girl.”

rafe almost choked when he heard the last part of his sentence. a girl? kelce was buying his weed from a girl?

“what?” rafe was sure he was joking, that the marijuana was talking for kelce.

“yeah, man. it’s this girl in my econ class. we had to work as partners on this project, so we decided to meet up at the library. when she got there, i smelled it on her immediately, asked her about it, and she finally told me. then, we smoked together and i bought this from her. i told her to text me when she gets new shit in.” kelce shrugged as he decided to ditch the bong and roll a blunt instead.

rafe sat across from him, jaw dropped. he couldn’t believe the weed he’d been smoking for the past hour came from a girl plug. he honestly thought it was kind of hot and was now intrigued, wanting to know more about his friend’s new plug.

“is she hot? what’s her name?” rafe asked, trying to play it cool.

kelce laughed and passed the blunt, “y/n is hot as fuck, bro. you’d love her. she’s fucking funny.”

rafe nodded.

“what’s her number?”

-

y/n felt her phone buzz in her jacket pocket. rolling her eyes at the interruption, she ashed the blunt and grabbed her phone.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hey

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Y/N?

her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the unknown number on her screen. she hesitated on texting back, but ultimately decided to, figuring it was just someone trying to buy from her.

Y/N: hi

Y/N: what do u want

Y/N: wait who is this

rafe smiled to himself, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in as he saw her responses come through.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Rafe. I got your number from Kelce earlier. We smoked that shit you gave him and it was crazy.

RAFE: You got anymore?

“rafe,” y/n thought to herself. she had never met him before, but she’d seen him at parties with kelce. he was usually doing the harder shit (coke) that she didn’t care too much about, so their paths never crossed. but, a quick look through his instagram was enough to tell her that he was loaded and she could always use the extra money, so she texted him back.

Y/N: ya

Y/N: come over whenever, i’ll be home all day

Y/N: *current location*

y/n locked her phone when she saw that he had read the messages and placed it back into her jacket pocket.

-

a few hours later, y/n heard the rumble of a truck pulling into her driveway. she carefully peeked between her blinds to see who it was and exhaled when she realized it was only rafe.

she stood up, ran her hands over her hair, and opened the door for him.

“you must be rafe.”

he felt his stomach flip at the sight of her sweet smile. he almost laughed after eyeing her up and down. she wore a huge hello kitty sweatshirt that hung off of her shoulder and black leggings, complete with the most basic white nike socks. there was no way this was the girl kelce got that weed from.

“i must. i’m assuming you’re y/n, the drug dealer?” he smirked at her, crossing his arms.

“that’d be me.” y/n laughed nervously. she knew he was cute from afar and from his pictures, but up close was a completely different story. she felt her cheeks heat up as she admired his features. “um, you can come on in if you want or you can stay right here, it doesn’t matter. i just, um, need to go get my, uh, stash. so, i’ll be right back.” y/n pointed behind her as she opened the door wider for rafe, allowing him to step inside her small house.

he watched her as she disappeared down a hallway. her house was not what he was expecting. it was very clean and nicely decorated. rafe could tell she’d put a lot of effort into making her house a home.

his attention turned back towards her when she appeared in front of him, holding a small pink baggie.

“here you go, sir!” y/n handed rafe a small, pink baggie and began walking with him back onto the porch.

“that’s it?” rafe stopped walking as he eyed the baggie in confusion. “this might be one blunt. maybe two. don’t you have more?”

“but if i give you all my weed at one time, you might not come back for a while, and where’s the fun in that, hm?” y/n tilted her head to the side, putting on a fake pout.

rafe smirked, leaning down to talk in her ear. “well, if this shits as good as it was earlier, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me, princess.”

y/n mirrored his expression, a smirk plastered on her own face. “i’ll be waiting.”

he sent her a wink as he walked off of her porch and back to his truck. she waved goodbye before walking back inside.

when she shut her door behind her, she couldn’t help but let out girlish giggles to herself.

-

later that night, as she was lying in bed, she heard her phone ring. she was surprised to see that rafe was facetiming her.

y/n sat up, turned her lamp on, and quickly fixed her hair before answering his call.

“y/n,” rafe began.

she knew he was outside and assumed he was already high.

“rafe,” she replied.

“look at this! i told you it would only be enough for one blunt! see, look.” he flipped the camera around to show a small table. on the table was the blunt he’d rolled from the weed he’d bought from her and the empty pink baggie.

“oh man, you’re out already!” y/n slapped her palm on her forehead, faking concern. “what are you going to do?!”

“well, i’m feeling nice right now, so i’m not going to come over tonight since you’re already in bed. but, i will be over there bright and early tomorrow morning. so be ready for me, princess.” rafe winked as y/n rolled her eyes (with the biggest grin on her face).

“of course. goodnight! i’ll be awaiting your arrival, mr. cameron.” y/n said in her best british accent, before blowing rafe a kiss and hanging up.

she put her phone on the charger and got comfortable, trying her best to fight the newly arrived butterflies in her stomach and get some sleep.

[dalamjisung]

feel something ❁ lee minho

genre: p u r e  a n g s t

word count: 5835

pairing: reader x lee minho

description: he was a habit that was just too hard to break, but you did it. two years ago, you broke the vicious cycle that was him... until he came back.

[to be read as a continuation of Habits of My Heart, but can also work as a stand alone!]

You are in his apartment.

How the fuck did you end up in his apartment?

And is that– yes, that’s his arm, laying heavy on your naked waist.

Fuck, is all you can think, raising your head from the oh so soft pillow while blinking your tired eyes awake. This is not how you planned to spend your holiday, but alas, there you are. Under his soft, striped sheets that, moments ago, you held onto for dear life as you moaned his name so prettily. That, you are sure, is something he would love to talk about once he is up, and that is why you start stirring, slowly moving despite the anxiety rising up your throat having you ready to run. It’s still quite dark, the cold, winter days taking their time with sunrise, but you could see enough with the dewy shine coming in through the sheer curtains. Your underwear is thrown by the end of the bed, and somehow, you still manage enough strength in your legs to drag it up to where you can reach with your hands. Unfortunately, your body is trapped under his weight, half on top of you and half taking every little free space available, and you can’t really move too abruptly or else he’ll wake up and you’ll be forced to face a reality you’re not quite ready to.

You’ll be forced to face Lee Minho.

“Oh come Y/N, are you really back on that dating app?” Sam asks, laughing her guts out over the cup of coffee that has long gone cold. “You didn’t even last the month!”

And she is right– last time you deleted that god forsaken app was three weeks ago, with the promise of taking a break while things at work started to pick up. Cue to now, 21 days later and counting, and you are back on it, swiping left and right whenever you feel the odd tingle of boredom creeping in. It’s an easy distraction, is what you always say; the amount of men in that app giving you a bit of a power high at the opportunity for choice, but the conversations bringing you way back down to the sad reality of the dating world. In between ghosting people and being ghosted, finding ‘the perfect match’ is impossible. For those that claim that they found true love on such places, you simple smile and nod– there is no point in debating your beliefs on modern if they are living their own happy ending. All you can do then is bubble a little in your jealousy, pretending is not big deal.

“Let me see your profile,” Sam is one of your closest friends, and definitely your biggest enabler. “Are you still using that photo of you I like? The one in the red shirt with– yes, you are, amazing.” Her feedback is overall positive, from the pictures, to the prompts, to the profiles of the people you matched with. “Oh! Miss dating app has 23 new likes! Let’s check them out, I’ll swipe– no. No, no, no, no way… right? No way!”

You are not sure what she’s talking about until you catch a glimpse of your phone in her hand. And there he is, that same photo you had swiped right on two years ago. Black and white– a dramatic flair, you’re sure– with him in the centre, smirking in a way that it seems almost taunting. It’s like he hasn’t changed at all, like time stopped when it came to him, and you can’t help but gasp in shock. Your hands are trembling when you grab the phone from your friend, bringing it closer to you in a way that very much so said you didn’t believe your eyes. “Holy shit.”

Two years. “Holy fucking shit.”

Two years without talking to each other. Without seeing each other. Without texting. “Holy shit, it’s Lee Minho.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You mutter like a crazy woman, and it gets on his nerves. It would get on his nerves, that is, if he was awake. Minho likes to tease you; he likes to push you away only to make the pull that much more appealing. And you fall for it, every single time, no matter how many times before you promise you won’t.

The routine is the same, as if you two are following a script. You get to his place– he never have and never will step foot into you apartment– and you text him. It feels oddly detached to ring his doorbell and announce your arrival, so a message is more than enough. The first thing he does is basically roast you for being unable to open his door, and really, who is he kidding? That old thing is so stuck in place you’re a bit surprised he’s able to have guests over. You try to tell him so, but he just clicks his tongue in that condescending way that makes your eyes roll as you follow him inside.

As always, the apartment is impeccable. He might be many things, really, with annoying being one of them, but the man is neat. The floor is clean, the lighting is perfect, the music in the background washes over you like calming waves trying to still your racing heart. Minho has this power over you, making you nervous in a way that no other man ever has, even if this is not your first encounter… by far. But you don’t show. Actually, you refuse to show, purposefully acting a bit too nonchalant about being there at all, loving how you can see it ticking him off by the second.

But before that– before the flirting, before the fucking, before the sneaking around with your underwear in your hands, there was the game. And boy, did you hate playing that fucking game.

Hey :D

What do you want, Minho?

What do I want?

I don’t know! I have a lot of things to say sorry for! :)

So… sorry! I acted like an immature dick back then.

I had other reasons to behave the way I did, but I don’t want to use them as excuses and just wanted to apologize

Apologize? You want to apologize after two years… on a dating app?

Well, okay… Uh, thank you, I guess? You did act like an immature asshole and I appreciate your apology.

But you do have my number, so I’m a bit confused as to why you just didn’t text me?

I do have your number, but… sometimes all we need is a push, you know?

I got this app yesterday and you were literally the third profile that showed up. Seeing your face again felt like a punch to the gut haha

And I thought I’d just say that if I could go back and do it all over again, I’d be better. For you. You were never anything but nice and understanding, and I should’ve treated you better.

So if you ever feel like… trying again… I’d love to give it a shot.

Are you serious, right now?

With all due respect, Minho, you gave me no reason to want to try and give it a shot. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the apology and I hope you are good and happy, but there is no way in hell that I’d ‘try again.’

Just thinking of the messages has you cringing. It was probably the stupidest thing you’ve convinced yourself of– the fact that you wouldn’t fall for his pretty words. It’s like he has a way with them that truly makes you wonder if he’s in the wrong profession. You tell him that, too, saying he should have been a poet or a fiction writer; the pictures he paints to you with his words do look better in your head, after all.

It takes him five days to get into your head… by literally doing nothing. After the conversation dies, with many more attempts of ‘let’s try again’ and empty ‘I miss you’s, you feel like you’re on a runner’s high. You feel like you’re on top, like you’re the winner of this stupid game you two always end up playing. But then he doesn’t text again. No ‘good morning’ or ‘how are you?’. No ‘thinking of you’ and definitely no begging for you wonderful, amazing presence to be back in his life. Now, it’s a little foolish to believe he’d ever do any of those– not even when you two were actually dating, two years ago, did he do that, so why now? What’s different now?

Well, to start, you. You are different, and he knows it. You’re grown now, more mature than you were. You are smarter, too, despite falling for the same words you feel for before. And now, you want different things too– no more silly ideas of a perfect relationship; no more giving your heart away in a whim, no more letting him handle you like a little stupid toy, no more wanting to call him when things get tough. All you want now– more like all you need, really– is some relief. Things have been hard… and that is putting it lightly. Work is hell, the winter is harsh, and life is just… a mess. So yes, safe to say you are desperate for some sort of soothing relief, looking to ease that growing tension on your shoulders.

Hence the dating app.

Going on dates is harder than you remember, when you begin again, but you simply amount the exhaustion to work and push yourself to get past your door, and out onto the street. It’s like you have a schedule for your free time as well as one for work– Hyojoon Friday night at the bar, Juyeon Saturday afternoon for lunch, Mark Sunday evening for an early dinner, and the list goes on and on and on. A few are first dates only– actually most of them are– but the ones that make it to a second or even a third date remain as that. A second or a third. As bad as it is to say, none seem to excite you as much as Minho did. Some are boring, and those are, oddly enough, the ones you try to stick to the most. If they are boring, you think, they won’t surprise you with any hurtful realisations of how you are not enough, or how they are better alone, or how they ‘can have some fun, but otherwise, just don’t have time.’

And it’s one of these boring ones, the ones you want to work so badly, that is the last drop in your very, very full bucket.

“And what do you think of climate change?”

You try so badly to ignore the itch in your hand, making you want to grab your phone and check that useless app again. You have your notifications off as a way to not allow an obsessions to arise but it’s futile and, honestly, quite naive to believe you’re not going to overthink every little thing that man said; and so you check, again and again, to make sure you don’t miss a message you know it’s not coming. It has been two days since he sent you anything and yet, you still check, and check, and check. The funny thing is that you meet Jeongin on the same app that Minho reached you on, but unlike Minho, your first date with Jeongin is one that you count the seconds to end.

“Climate change?” You repeat, eyes wide a bit in surprise. There is a smile on your lips, stiff and so well trained that, at this point, you don’t think it’s even believable. “I worry about it, of course.”

“But you eat meat?” He asks. The glint in his eyes tell you that he finds amusement in caging you against a wall. “That’s not very environmentally conscious.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.”

The close-lipped smile and the way your eyes discreetly check your wrist watch should have been enough, but he still manages to drag you to a coffee shop, running from the rain that poured all over you two as you marched out of the park. Tomorrow is a Monday and you have a presentation to prepare for, but still, he ignores you. And talks, and talks, and talks. By the time you make it home, you barely have any energy left to re-read your slides before passing out in the couch.

Date two isn’t much better, but at least it is a nice day and there are some musicians out playing in the park to keep you entertained as you two sit in complete silence. He’s not a chatty one, and you’re kind of tired of putting so much effort in and getting nothing back, so when you get home after that, you promise to not go out with him again. It’s a bit of an ego trip, how much he tries to contact you for a date you’ll know he’ll silently through, but you keep up with your dedication to your peace of mind. It’s not that deep, once you think about it. All this guy knows about you is the basic stuff– what you work with and how busy it keeps you. You take ages to respond to his message, and yet he still tries, and, at one point, he tries too hard.

It’s more the joke he makes than anything. You are mid report writing when you get a notification about an Instagram account trying to send you a message.

Hey Y/N, found you.

Who is this?

Kai!

Oh! Hi :) hahah how did you find me?

Took me hours lol

After that you just tell him that you’re not really ready to date and that you’re too busy, but it was lovely meeting him. After that, you get scared, and tired, and defeated. It’s like no matter what you did, you still couldn’t feel safe. No matter how many times you went out with them, how many chats over coffee you had, how many slightly intrusive questions you asked… it was never enough. It was still strange and new and unfamiliar and, quite sadly, unsafe. The slight touches have you flinching and the hungry looks make your curl inwards. Dating is hard for you, mainly because you’re not adventurous or fearless, quite the contrary– you are very, and with all the right, paranoid.

So when you text Minho, on your way home, regretting every words typed, you know that despite breaking your heart and acting like a class A idiot, he is, and will always be, familiar.

Familiar. Yes, Minho was familiar— everything about this situation was fucking familiar. The way that you hurriedly got dressed, the way that you walked on your tippy toes in hopes to make less noise, the way that, when you did make noise, you flinched, looking at the door in panic. Waking him up is not an option. Throughout the night, multiple times he tells you about how busy he is; how he has to write a speech for work, and how he has to present in front of a very important crowd, and how he is oh so nervous to do what he always does. And multiple times through the night, you nod and smile and say that ‘everything will be okay’, even if you don’t quite know what you are nodding and smiling about.

Is it because you’re there with him? No, that’s not it. There was a time Minho made you happy; a time in which the aftertaste of him lingered in your lips and you smiled, wide and unabashedly, every time your tongue poked out to lick your lips. A time in which the smell of his cologne that clung to your sweater would make you blush at the memories of limbs intertwined on the couch and whispered words floating in the air. Yes, there was a time in which Lee Minho made you happy. But that time is now long gone.

“Why are you here, then?”

And isn’t that the question of the hour? Why are you there? On his couch, laughing with a cup of wine in hand, retorting every little quip he throws your way. There are quite a lot of them– Minho is a man that likes being right, he likes being on top… in all facets of life. Winning, for him, is extremely important, and you wonder just how much he’s willing to sacrifice for that first place position in a competition with no one else but himself.

Actually, you know how much he’s willing to sacrifice. You know it very well. “I was bored,” You shrug, taking a sip of your glass. “And horny.” It’s no secret why you’re there. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. You know he’s trying to get a rise out of you, as he always does– something about how cute you look when you’re all flustered and annoyed– and you wonder if he knows how cuter you can get when you’re excited and driven. You wonder if he knows how much you can talk about something you love, instead of having to talk about something irrelevant. You wonder if he knows you at all and it’s quite depressing to even question that, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

Of course he doesn’t.

In some odd self-defense against yourself, trying to ease the admonishing conscientious voice in your head, you tell yourself that his laughter is nice. It’s quite loud and free and his shoulder wiggle in amusement, and you like when he laughs. The same way you like when Sam laughs, or when your flatmate laughs, or when your work teammate laughs… the same way you like when anyone you care for or about laughs. And this is not news to you, you’ve always known you care for Minho. His opinion matters to you, and his words, as fake as they can be, still get to you. You might be blinded by youthful impulses and thoughts of immediate satisfaction, but you are definitely not an idiot– you see reality, but you wilfully ignore it for a few hours or so. Minho allows you to do that, and it’s quite a relief to allow yourself to do it, too.

The moment he sits next to you is impactful. The air stills, and it’s more out of expectation than anything else– will he make a move now? Later? There is no dance in between the two of you, as ironic as that sounds, but more of a game of who can surprise who. He enjoys the moment he touches you first, you know he does; it’s the smirk on his lips that gives him away. He adores tugging you closer, even if it ends up with you two crampled up in awkward positions on his couch. And he lives for the moment of the first kiss of the night.

It starts like it always does– a simple touch of lips, a bit of space for reassurance, because Minho is many things, but he is not forceful; and then the lunge. You smile everytime he does it and maybe you’re at fault for how smug he looks about it, but it doesn’t really matter. You like the lunge, you love it, even; it appeals to something inside of you, a need to be needed, to be wanted, that has you putty in his hands with one single move.

There is time.

You convince yourself that you still have time, and that maybe rushing around the empty apartment at 7 in the morning is not needed. Minho sleeps like a log, and unless you break something, he’s not waking up. And even if you break something, he might not wake up… or he might just not care. The later hurts a little, but you’re used to being hurt by him and you accept that you have no one else to blame but yourself… after all, you’re the one that told him you wanted something like this– casual, noncommital, stress free.

All in all, the plan is supposed to be fail proof. It’s that youthful impulsive behaviour, you see, and you are quite embarrassed to admit it, but you are not, in your core, a casual person. You are not noncommital and stress free. If anything, you are probably the most commital and stressed person you know, dedicating a full 110% of yourself to everything you do. It’s why you are always so tired, so burnt out… it’s why you avoid, with everything you have, debates and discussions. You just don’t have the energy to do all that anymore. You are still young, but you’re not stupid, anymore, and that’s what changed.

Sitting on the couch as you pull your sweater down, you sigh. “What the fuck am I doing?” It’s laughable, the amount of times you sat on that couch and asked yourself that exact question. Your friends don’t even want to hear about this anymore; they get annoyed, with you, with the situation, with him, and it’s always the same. 'You’re too good for him' or 'he doesn’t deserve you.' They are not wrong, but there’s only so many times you can try to tell them that you know that. You know; you know better than they ever will, and as much as you embrace their annoyance as love, you’re annoyed too. You want to vent too. You want to laugh about stupid shit Minho does too. You want to make all the mistakes you just weren’t allowed to make when you were supposed to make them, and he is definitely one of them. You want to not have to think about everything al the time, to be right all the time, to make the smart choice all the time. You want to simply not think all the time, and better than anyone else, Minho lets you not do that.

“Arms up.”

It is easy to ignore the bossy tone of his voice when his mouth is working on your neck, kissing, licking, biting. It feels good– it always feels good and, sometimes, it feels too good. Right now, however, it just… feels good. Feels peaceful and serene. It’s like time doesn’t matter when you’re kissing him, like all you have to do is follow his lead and not think and you love that. You love that feeling, even if you don’t love him. “Good girl,” He whispers, smiling as he pulls your sweater over your head.

It’s cold outside. Really cold, actually, and you shiver the moment the air hits your skin, goosebumps littering your arms as you shiver. Minho is on it, though, warm hands touching you all over, spreading a path of fire through your back and stomach and arms and breasts. “Cold?” He asks, and it’s a stupid questions, but it makes you giggle. These are the moments that are okay to pretend… okay to pretend he cares, with his hands tracing patterns all over until your bra goes missing, your pants are open, and his fingers are slowly brushing against your wet underwear. With his voice, mellow and soft, whispering sweet nothings and everythings against your ear, calling you all the names he knows you like to hear. With his restrain, cock hard against his jeans but not rushing or pushing until he knows you’re good and ready for him.

The thing about his house is that, as much as his living room is this sea of mood lighting and comfort, his windows run from the floor to the ceiling. You dream of the day you’d be brave enough to fuck him right there, on the same couch you two always start but never end– but right across the street is a bar, filled to brim every night you’re there, almost as if he had invited a crowd to watch you crumble at his fingertips. “Room,” You gasp, air being knocked out of your lungs just as his fingers tug your underwear to the side, teasing your entrance while playing with your clit. It’s amazing, how he moves his hand in the little space your pants allow him to, but with every push and pull of his fingers inside you, you gasp. Minho knows your body just like you know his– he knows what you like and it just so happens, he likes it too. Likes seeing you like that, breathless and limp; likes kissing you as you moan his name, wiggling on his lap as you make out on his couch. Likes when you beg him, to go to the room, to speed it up, to make you cum. He likes being in power, you assume, as much as he might not like you.

“You wanna go to the room?” He chuckled, speeding up his movements in a way that has you too distracted to event think. “Not a fan of exihibitionism, are you?” You would have laughed if that wasn’t the exact moment he chooses to pull his hand out, fingers dragging up, up, up to your clit for a little tease. A taste of what you can you have if you just let him work. “Come on, let’s go.” But before he can even take a step towards the familiar room, you tug him by the collar for a kiss, filthy and wet, and you basically rip his shirt off of his body. He is soft and hard at the same time, pun intended. For a man, he takes a lot of care of himself, and you envy the clear and soft skin of his chest, feeling self conscious about the blemishes you know you have. It’s an anxious impulse to pick at your arms, and it’s times like these that makes you cuss are your longish nails.

You forget all about it when he moans at the feeling of those same nails scratching down his chest, stopping just below his bellybutton. These moments are rare, you never have a chance to have some resemblance of control in how things unfold between you two, but something about it makes your eyes twinkle… and you want more. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so hot.” And you are– you feel like you are and that’s all that matters as you pop the button open, making space for your hand to slide down, under pants and underwear, to grab a hold of him. “Oh…”

There’s a draft coming from the room, where he insists on sleeping with the window upen as snow covers the entire street outside in white, and you shiver almost the same way you did last night. Except this time, you don’t have his sweaty, overheated body on top of yours, and it’s not as pleasant anymore. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on that couch, but you do know it’s time to get up and go. At one point or another, Minho will notice the empty space next to him in bed, and you don’t wish to be there to find out if he cares enough to come look for you or not.

You grab your jacket as if it’s made of glass. He hangs them neatly at the front door, which is right next to the room entrance, and you are scared to even step on his wooden floors. If the wood gives you away, then you are not sure you’ll have the guts to face him again. Usually, when you leave like this, doing the classic Irish goodbye and disappearing for a couple of weeks or so until someone falters. To be fair, so far, t’s an equal score. You wonder if there is an unspoken agreement between you two that dictates whose turn is it to text first… last night, it had been him.

“Fuck!” You moan, and just like before, you wiggle in place in a silent plea. Sometimes, in your opinion, Minho takes too long with his teasing, but you know it’s on purpose. Like how he is right now, brushing the tip of his dick between your folds. If it wasn’t for the condom, you’d feel the way he leaks in excitement. But alas, that’s one level of intimacy you are not, and never will be, ready to have with him. Someone, maybe, just not… him. You will never give yourself that fully to Lee Minho, because you did, once upon a time two years ago, and it was a struggle to get yourself back. “Minho, please, please just– oh my god…”

He’s a calculated lover. He knows just when to push and pull, and just then, as you beg and buckle your hips into him, hoping to feel that delicious, burning stretch of him, he pushes. Despite everything, you don’t quite like feeding his ego, and so you try and hold back the whimper that threatens to escape.

The build up of sex with Minho is slow. He pauses, moaning into your neck as he gives you a couple of seconds to get used to the feeling of him. “Y/N, fuck,” He whispers, moving to give you a bruising kiss and that’s when you know your time is done. The way he pulls back and pushes in again, and again, and again starts to build up inside of you, making you throw your head back into the pillow, fingers sinking into his back. You enjoy keeping him close, knees pushed up to his hips trying to feel him deeper, harder. You like the way he picks up the pace little by little, hipbones harsh in how they snap against yours, letting you know you’d be sore for next day with the echoes of his skin on yours. “Minho!” You moan, feeling his harsh breathing on your cheeks. A shiver runs up your spine when he fucks you harder, mouth everywhere until he finds bliss sucking marks on your chest. “Fuck, baby, please, please, please–” At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re asking for, just wanting to feel that tension in your stomach explode and tingle everywhere, blanking you out from existence.

It’s not an easy job, making you cum, but he never fails to impress you with how determined he is. Not that he has ever been successful, but as you explained before, it’s not about the destination, but the journey. Sometimes, you think the reason why he keeps calling you back is the fact that you are a challenge. Sure, he had made you cum with his mouth before, those sinful lips wrapping around your most sensitive part as sucking like he was trying to drink you fully. Or those hands– long fingers drawing an orgasm out of you as if he was simply beckoning you to come closer and closer to him. But cumming from his dick, as much as your mind loved the fantasy, is hard. It’s more of a you thing than a him thing, but he is relentless in his mission. He pushes away from you, as much as your grabby hands try to keep him in place, and raises to his full glory, standing on his knees while holding your hips up to match his erratic rhythm. “So tight… feels so fucking good,” He groans, bringing one leg over his shoulder and you can’t handle it anymore. It’s odd, feeling this good yet feeling pain at the same time. Your leg is cramping up, and your hands are holding onto the bedsheets so tightly you might just crack your fingers out of place, and your core… god, your core is on fire.

“Minho, please, just– oh my– cum, please baby,” Your twisting your whole body in a sensation that is foreign to you, and for a moment, everything stops. This is the first time you know it’s coming… you feel it, so close yet so far, and just as you’re about to tip over the edge, that euphoric sensation starting to spread in advance as your stomach coiled tighter and tighter as he pounded into you harder and harder… until he groans, impossibly loud, and his hips slow down to a stop. “You have got to be kidding me.”

What comes after is not that important– mainly because it’s not you, even as he slides his body down the bed, throwing your legs on his shoulders to get to work. If there is one thing Minho excels at, besides driving you absolutely nuts, is coaching you to the brink. It’s a shame, really, that you panic early, never letting him push you off the edge and make you cum so hard you scream his name in that high-pitched tone he loves teasing you about.

It’s a hard relationship you have with yourself, really. On one hand, that’s the only reason you’re there, the sex, the panting, the hours that pass by and you don’t even notice. But then, on the other hand, as much as you chase that orgasmic feeling like a madwoman, you don’t want it to end. No the sex, no– sometimes, all you want is for it to end, because you’re close, so so close to cumming that you might just ruin it all.

You don’t want to lose.

If you cum, you lose. It’s a sick game, and you’re playing it with no one else besides you, but you refuse to lose. This time, you’re on fucking top.

This time, if anyone is getting heartbroken, is him. If anyone is ending up on the floor crying, it’s him. If anyone is desperate for answers, it’s him.

This time, if anyone is losing, it’s fucking Lee Minho.

“Leaving early again.”

Chuckling, you don’t really acknowledge him yet, finishing tying your boots and wrapping your scarf around your neck, your chin, your face. You cover everything his eyes trace, smirking under the soft fabric and enjoying how it brushes over your lips so gently… he’s never that gentle with you, so it’s a welcoming contrast, your inanimate scarf to Minho.

It’s cold out, cold enough for the little skin you have on show to numb. With every step you take away from him, you numb. With every goodbye wave, every nonchalant glance, every uncaring smile– you’re numb to the point of feeling like you’re hypothermic. The cold, you find, opening his front door, only brings you back to a state of being you’re awfully too familiar with.

“What can I say,” You shrug, refusing to admit the defeat that is when he simply leans against the wall, smirking as if he knows what you’re going to say next. “I have nothing else to do here.” And with that, you step out, ignoring the pang in your stomach when the door actually slams shut behind you.

You can’t lost, you remind yourself one more time, marching to the subway station just a block away.

You can’t lose because if you lose, you lose him. And if you lose him, you’re numb forever.

--------------------------------------

Hi lovelies!!! Oh my god, this one was a wild ride >.< I hope you guys enjoy it, my little heart needed to write this as a venting session haha

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 27: Secret Secret

Chapter Word Count: 4,060

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

When Jihoon went back to the jewelry store with a single manager, masked up and nearly covered from head to toe to keep his identity hidden. It was later in the afternoon, just after the longer dance practice and before an actual meeting with Bumzu and Seungcheol. He had received an email during a break saying that the ring was ready for pick up and he wanted it in his hands as soon as possible after waiting a long week. When he entered inside, there were a few customers floating around but he was thankful to see Myung behind the register working on something.

“ Myung-nim,” He said quietly, bowing his head, “ I received the email-?” 

“Ah~” Looking up to him, she smiled, motioning him over towards the back of the room. “ I’ll grab it from the back, meet me over there.” 

Jihoon shuffled his way over, leaning himself against the counter before his manager joined to stand beside him. 

“ How are you going to hide it?” 

Oh shit, he didn’t properly think of that. 

“ Uh- I’ll probably give it to one of you…or Cheol-hyung…or pray that Ruby-ah won’t find it in the apartment.” 

His manager laughed, crossing his arms. “ Such a smart plan.” 

The sarcasm made him huff and roll his eyes. “ Listen, I was more busy thinking about sneaking around and getting pictures with them in the shot but not looking. I want to at least try and get a picture or two.” 

“And here I thought Lee Jihoon wasn’t cute.” He lowered his voice but the tone was laced with teasing. 

“Haha.” Another roll of his eyes. 

Myung was standing before him not long after, holding the square, black velvet box in her hand. “ Are you ready to see it?” 

“More than ready.” He smiled behind his mask, watching as she slowly opened the case and his breath caught in his throat. 

It looked…perfect. Better than he had hoped. Much like the first, it had the three set diamonds on the side, but what stared back at him was no longer the glittering round diamond. The ruby’s red color looked dazzling under the white lights, seeming freshly buffed. 

Reaching up, Myung handed over the box. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until the ring box was in his hands. 

“ It looks amazing, Myung-nim.” He finally let the breath he had been holding out, never taking his eyes away from the piece in his hands. 

“ It’s an eight and a half. If it is too big like we assume, we resize for the first time for free. If you bring it in for a cleaning, the first one is also free. You purchased the insurance in case it gets lost or stolen so all of the bases are covered.” 

While he didn’t want to, Jihoon closed the box, holding it tightly between his hands. “ Thank you, I'm sure we will be back here in the future.” 

“Just give a call, we’d love to continue doing business with you, Woozi-ssi.” Quietly, she bid you a goodbye after handing over the vouchers for the sizing and cleaning. 

Sitting in the passenger seat of the van, Jihoon opened the box in his lap, ghosting his thumb over the silver of the ring setting. The manager commented that it was pretty and that he thought Ruby was going to like it (but made a comment much like Cheol that they’d like whatever he gave them). 

Jihoon was quick to shove the box in his pocket and pass through security to get up to Bumzu’s studio. He didn’t bother to knock, having come acquainted well with the other producer over the years. Seungcheol was lounging back on the dark couch, hugging a pillow to his chest with his phone held up with the other arm. Bumzu has his feet kicked up on the couch from his desk chair, also holding up his phone. It was clear the both of them were waiting for his arrival. 

Seungcheol leaned his head back to meet Jihoon's eye, peering at him upside-down. “Sup?” 

“Hi.” Shutting the door behind him, Jihoon shed off his outer jacket and sat between both Bumzu’s and Seungcheol’s feet, stretching his arms and legs out. “ How long have you guys been waiting?” 

“Not long, but that doesn’t matter.” Cheol was quick to sit up, criss-crossing his legs and holding out a hand. “ Lemme see.” 

“ Can’t I sit for one minute?” Exasperated, Jihoon looked unamused at the older man’s antics.

“Um…No.” This time, he put both hands out, making grabby-hands. “ Give.” 

Jihoon reached into his pocket and pulled the velvet box out, handing it over to his friend. Almost instantly Seungcheol snatched the box from his hand, pushing the top back to reveal the ring. With shining, wide eyes, Seungcheol took it in, bringing it extremely close to his face, examining it by turning the box in his hand.

“ It’s gorgeous.” He hummed, peering at Jihoon from the corner of his eye. “ Any ideas for your own wedding ring?” 

“Can they say yes before I even think about it?” 

“You are no fun, Jihoonie!” 

“ Hand it over.” Holding out his own hand, Bumzu motioned for it, having not seen it yet, only hearing the gushing from Jihoon. The box was handed to Jihoon only to be snatched away once more, leaving him a bit defeated but unsurprised by their antics. Bumzu was quiet in his analysis of the ring, nodding his head a bit with every turn of the box to view the different angles. When he finally closed the box and passed it back over to Jihoon, he smiled, reaching over and patting Jihoon on the shoulder. “ You picked very well, ‘Hoon-ah.” 

“Gross, you guys are getting weird,” Faking a gag, Jihoon shivered. “ Can we just work on some music?”

“ Jihoooonnnn-ahhhh~” Hyeji bursted into his studio, his head shooting up from staring down at the strings of his guitar. Vernon and Wonwoo were sitting behind his desk, both discussing something between the two of them. “ Oh hey guys.” 

“Did they get back to you?” With the days counting down, Jihoon had been getting anxious on whether the greenhouse conservatory would be a feasible venue. 

“ They did!” Hyeji pulled up the email on her phone. “ We have the fourteenth booked after hours.” 

“Thank god.” He leaned his head back against his chair, sighing. “ Now that we have that, we can get a place booked for everything after.” 

“Cheol-hyung suggested the barbecue place.” Vernon chirped up. 

Wonwoo nodded but spoke up himself. “ Shua-hyung said the fancy bistro we all like.”  

“Ah- I haven’t taken Ruby-ah there.” Jihoon cringed, “ But I don’t see why not for the bistro. Hyeji can you-”

“Alright on it, boss.” She gave a thumbs up, shooting the three of them finger guns. “ Three more weeks!” 

And she was gone as quickly as she came, her silhouette disappearing down the hallway. 

“Hyeji is an interesting person.” Wonwoo commented, going back to whatever him and Vernon were working on. 

“ Hyeji is…something.” 

Ruby was dead asleep. Jihoon tried to wake them a few times but each time they either didn’t move or mumbled to leave them alone. They had been running around all day in the apartment cleaning and getting things done despite him asking them to sit down for maybe five minutes. 

When he did manage to stop them in their tracks, when they were in the middle of sweeping the floor, Ruby was reluctant, grumbling about the apartment needing to be cleaned. Jihoon had asked if there was anything Ruby needed help with or anything they wanted to talk about prior to getting them to sit down but both questions got a no. He didn’t have to fight much to have them sit, even bribing them with a peak at the new album’s instrumental. 

For a good while, he just held them, letting Ruby rest their head on his chest, ghosting his hands up and down their back. Every so often he would ask if they were okay, if something was wrong. Each time Ruby shook their head until they confessed that they were nervous for Jamie and Kazuki coming and wanted everything to be perfect. It had been so long since the three were together and even Jihoon knew that the time they’d have together wouldn’t be enough. He tried his best to reassure them, whispering sweet nothings and words of affirmation that he knew made their heart flutter even the smallest amount.

In the end, they were curled up in the mountain of pillows in the corner of the couch, the weighted blanket wrapped snugly around them. Ruby had migrated over when he went to the office and sent an email with some music files the managers asked for. 

Though it wasn’t ideal to do this…

As quietly as he could, Jihoon stood from his spot and went to get his gym bag. Though it wasn’t the best place currently to hide the ring box, it was the best way to hide it from Ruby since they refused to touch it. Their excuse? With how much he forgets to take clothes out of it, the bag is radioactive. Kinda rude if you were to ask him. 

Jihoon took out his phone and opened the camera, holding the ring box tightly in his hand. He made sure that they were asleep for a hundredth time before lining up a shot. 

Jihoon opened the ring box and held it up, letting the dim living room lights hit the ruby gemstone just right. He got Ruby just off to the side of it, unconscious and looking absolutely comfortable. It was cuter with their sock covered feet peeking out from under the blanket and everything above their lips just able to be seen. When he was satisfied with his placement, he snapped a few pictures and had a brilliant idea. 

Well, more of a dumb one but he thought it would be funny to show them later. He turned around and held the ring box up to his face with Ruby still sleeping behind him. Holding his phone up, he once again lined up the shot but took a selfie, smiling wide in one but gave a mischievous grin in the second, knowing he was keeping a big secret that they didn’t know. Looking through the pictures, he snickered silently to himself and hid the ring back in his bag. 

He went into the bedroom to change, pulling back the comforter and dimming the lights. While it wasn’t hard, Jihoon slowly unwrapped Ruby from the blanket, hearing them murmur and grumble before he managed to get their arms around his neck and lift them up to wrap their legs around his waist. 

“ Come on.” He whispered, feeling them drop their head on his shoulder. “ Time for bed.” 

Jihoon couldn’t make out the next round of grumbles they got out but he was slow in walking towards the bedroom and laid them down. Ruby clung to him, refusing to let go with him leaned over. Gently, he ran a hand up and down their side, trying to coax them but it only made them tighten the hold. 

“ Love, can you let go for a moment? I can’t lay down.” 

Ruby shook their head so…he did the only sensible thing and lied flat on top of them, hearing an oomph and a forced breath of air being pushed out. It was only a few moments before they released him, starfishing out but he refused to move now. 

“ Get up-” They tried to shift onto their side, trying to get him off but he was definitely hard to move

“ I don’t know, comfortable over here if you ask me.” 

“You are heavy-” Trying again, Ruby used their arms this time, even just attempting to get either of them on their side. “ Gym rat-” 

“Ask nicely.” 

“Move, you slab of meat-” 

With a laugh, Jihoon rolled off, only to pull them to his chest. “ Go back to sleep.” 

“Already done..” Ruby yawned, pulling the covers up over them to better. 

“ Let me get this straight, its called Fuck My Life?” You asked, sitting beside Joshua on the couch in Universe Factory . “So as a group, you guys can say fuck but Vernon can’t say it in his solo? Sounds rigged.” 

“Okay well, He wrote the lyrics for Black Eye himself so it was his choice.” Joshua side-eyed you before looking back at his phone. “And the company also has a role in it.” 

“Still sounds rigged, but okay.” 

“ I know why Ruby-ah is here, but why are you here, Hyung? Don’t we have a day off?” Turning in his chair, he peered over the half wall towards both of you.

“He says day off and here he is in the studio.” Kicking your feet up, you eyed him with a raised brow. “You’d think as someone that holds himself to a high standard would listen to himself.” 

“Hasn’t done that since the day I met him.” Joshua mirrored your lounging pose and the glance you sent towards Jihoon. 

“The green room days…” 

“The horrible green room days…” 

“ If you both are going to be idiots, can you at least do it quietly?” 

“Who does he think he is?” You crossed your arms. 

Joshua copied you. “I don’t know, definitely rude though.” 

“My soulmate and he still treats me like this.” Shaking your head, you watched as Jihoon took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. There was a hint of annoyance in the bond that had you holding back a chuckle. “Soulbound and I’m still an idiot.” 

Jihoon pointed to the door. “ Out, both of you, I have work to do.”

“There's the door!” You yelled out before Joshua followed behind quickly. 

“There’s the door, bitch!”

And now the both of you were cackling while Jihoon looked just about ready to beat the two of you up. 

“ We’ve been here for four hours, Hoonie, can’t we get out of here and spend a day not at home or in the studio, even if we just go out to eat?” 

“Can I join?” 

“No, I’m making it date night.” 

“Ew, couples are gross. I’m getting out of here.” Joshua stood, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He patted Jihoon on the shoulder with a light chuckle, leaving the studio and disappearing beyond the door. 

“Insufferable.” Jihoon stared blankly at the two of you for a moment, something running through his mind before he huffed. “Fine.” 

“Don’t sound too excited.” You sounded disappointed but Jihoon was quick to step up and shook his head.

“ Don’t be like that!” He complained, slumping back in his chair. “ Going out is just…labor intensive.” 

“Labor- All we are doing is eating.” Standing up, you stepped over to him, placing a finger under his chin and tipping his head back. “ Are you worried about fans getting in our faces?” 

Jihoon placed his hands gently on your hips, letting his thumb knead into your hip bones. “ I enjoy my privacy.” 

“Can we make a deal?” You tilted your head, seeing the tired eyes that he had been sporting for the last week and a half. 

“ Depends.” He tilted his head like you did, leaning forward and resting his chin on your stomach, staring up at you lovingly. 

“ Once a month, if we can and feel up to it, maybe we can go out and say fuck it to being spotted? Not like the world should be surprised at this point.”

His shoulders deflated but his expression didn’t change. Jihoon let his eyes gaze over your face and slowly his lips pursed, eyes reflecting back all the lights from the ‘galaxy’ he had on the ceiling. Wrapping his arms around your waist, the purse on his lips turned into a full on pout and he leaned his weight on you. 

With his hair getting longer and longer, you brushed it back from his face, twirling a few strands around your finger. “ You can say no instead of pouting at me.” 

“It doesn’t feel fair to you.” Jihoon muttered, feeling him drum his fingers against you.

Scratching at his scalp, you swore he could have purred with how he leaned into the touch, let his eyes roll back, and closed his eyes. “ But I’m not going to be a dick about it if you do say no.” 

The hum of the bond was warm and inviting, letting you smile down at him with bright eyes. 

“You’re playing dirty.” 

“I’m giving myself an advantage.” 

“Once a month?” 

“Once a month. We can go somewhere casual, just to get out and have a good dinner without the entire security team and the guys butting in.” 

“We’d need some security just in case.” He didn’t even open his eyes, still letting you message his head. 

“ Jisung and your head of security? They can sit away from us though.” 

“Compelling argument.” 

“So…” You clasped your fingers together behind his head, cradling it easily. “ Is that a yes?” 

“If I say yes, can we get burgers?” 

You silently snickered, nodding your head. “ Only if we can get ice cream after.” 

“Deal.”

That was how the four of you ended up in a decent burger joint at a booth towards the back with Jisung and another security guard at a table diagonal to you. Instead of taking seats across from one another, Jihoon had slid in beside you, both of your backs facing the entrance to better keep you hidden while also keeping you close. 

“ Wait wait, you never told me that Jamie and Kazuki are Mingyu-ah and Jeonghan-hyung biased!” He laughed alongside you, face scrunched up in a wide smile. 

The plates before the two of you were nearly done aside from some fries. 

“ Jamie calls Mingyu-ah ‘Big Sexy’ .” Exposing your friends was fun, especially when you see the glee on Jihoon’s face. “ And Kazuki thinks that Jeonghannie is really pretty.” 

“Of course he thinks Jeonghan-hyung is pretty, every Jeonghan-hyung stan does.” 

“ They really do.” You shoveled a few fries into your mouth. 

“ Jamie has been bugging me for days asking if I can introduce him to Mingyu-ah. And you know Mingyu-ah, if someone fawns over him, he is in love.” 

Jihoon snorted. “ Oh? Like you?” 

“Hey, whoa! I’ll have you know, because you were there, that Mingyu-ah fawned over me first because I’m the same age as him! Same with Seokminie!” 

“Mhmm.” He nodded, clearly not believing it. “ I hope his soulmate can tolerate his clingy ass.” 

“Honestly? Humble him, I hope they won’t.”  

“That’s mean, he already gets bullied enough by us.” 

The two of you bursted into a fit of laughter, leaning on each other. You grabbed onto his arm and his hand gave light pats to your thigh, trying to catch your breaths. Honestly you don’t know how long the two of you had been sitting in the booth just eating and talking, enjoying the hum of the bond and the time spent together. The occasional look at where your security sat showed it evident that they had finished long ago and were either chatting or messing around on their phones with no one of interest looking at the two of you. 

“Who do you think is going to find their soulmate next?” 

Jihoon pursed his lips, leaning his head side to side. “I’m placing my bet on Cheol-hyung, him or maybe Wonwoo.” 

“Ohh, good guesses. I was also thinking Seungcheol-ah next. Wonwoo is a good guess too. I was thinking of either Seokminie or Shua.” 

“ I really want to see what kind of person Cheol-hyung’s soulmate will be. We both know he can be…a lot sometimes but I want to see who will have to put up with him forever.” 

You chuckled, nodding. “ Same with Wonwoo’s. I know they can write back and forth to one another but who can put up with his weird personality? Will they also like video games?” 

“You and I are pretty similar in some aspects, same with your grandparents and my parents. It will probably be the same with them.” 

“...Hey ‘Hoonie?” 

Turning his head to face you, he raised a brow. “ Yeah?” 

“...Can we get ice cream now?” 

His bright laughter filled your ears. “Ahhh-” Jihoon leaned his head back before nodding, sending you a wide, toothy smile. “ Yeah, yeah we can.” 

There were fans at the cafe you both decided on, it wasn’t a surprise. With it being a smaller place and a more open concept, it was easy to get spotted. The sun had set, bathing the city in a dark blue sky. Though you sat at a corner table, both facing away from the windows and the fans that were trying to get pictures, Jihoon felt uncomfortable, sharing a bowl of ice cream with you. 

You needed something to distract him. 

“ Remember the day when we first met?” 

He frowned for a moment before his eyes lifted and focused on you. “ Of course I remember it.” 

“You said to me that you were there to listen to me and get to know me. You said we’d get mad at each other.” You let a smile spread on your lips. “ I think about that a lot.” 

“We have to admit, we did a decent job at all that in the beginning.” He matched your expression. Jihoon loved over his shoulder towards the fans behind both of you then back towards the ice cream you shared. “ Then the fight over the live…” 

“Still can’t believe you did that.” You bumped into his shoulder, hearing him scoff. “ But I hope you know I appreciated it.” 

“Did I ever tell you what happened that night after I got back from the studio?” 

Frowning, you shook your head, leaning on your elbow to better see him. 

“ Cheol-hyung was about ready to kill me.” Jihoon shook his head, still smiling. “ That night…It was the first night I thought that I wanted to protect you for the rest of my life.” 

“ Do not make me emotional right now.” Poking a finger into his chest, he shook his shoulders in a laugh. “ I’m serious, Lee Jihoonie, I will kick your ass.” 

“Hmm, sounds like a challenge.” Jihoon leaned in, your noses nearly touching. “ Do you want to know the moment I really fell in love with you?” 

“Jihoonie…” Narrowing your eyes, he leaned his arm on the table and supported his head with a hand under his chin. 

“It started the day that you were really down before we flew to Bangkok.” The soft gaze he set on you made you flustered and a blush flourished on your cheeks. “ You made that stupid joke to lighten the mood when I was in my head, ‘how dare you call my soulmate dumb?’. I should have been the one helping you but you ended up helping me. Then we went to the dorms and you made another joke about me liking you. It was the second time I really wanted to protect you but the day that I knew my feelings were more than just liking you.” 

You didn’t say a word, watching as he leaned in, pressing your foreheads together, that silly little thing you both did. 

“ The day at the airport was when everything solidified and I had told you. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops of Japan.”

“You are pushing it.” It was a baseless warning, swallowing down any bubbling up emotions. 

“ Can’t I tell my soulmate I love them? When they were trying to make me not feel like a thousand eyes are staring at us?” 

“You can, and I’m more than happy to distract you anyday.” 

“Ruby-ah,” He placed a gingerly kiss to your lips, short and sweet with the prying eyes not far from you. “ I love you.” 

“I love you too, Jihoonie.”

[moonlight-phobia]

Falling Star

Jamil X Gn!Reader

Trying a bit of a new writing style? Really wanted to write something for Jamil though so here we go! Heard it was @merotwst birthday so Happy Birthday! Hopefully this can bring a little light to your day! Even if I’m late! @cvlutos as well hope you enjoy!

Trigger Warnings: Past Injury, Mentions towards depression, and Blot

Word Count: 800+

“Come on henchmen! You’re slowing down..” the cat monster would meow out in disappointment of the other half.

“I’m coming don’t worry go on ahead I’ll meet you there Grim-“ what an anxious little cat monster for his human friend. It’s only been a few weeks since another student’s blot. A few injuries had ended up with you in this case. With a ankle brace around your left foot.

Along with the teasing that came with Ace saying you looked older because of that now. Mystery on how he ended up in a tree later that day hanging upside down with some bats bugging him. Whoever could have done that? Even Ace didn’t seem to remember but he didn’t tease you anymore about what happened.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve sustained an injury since arriving in the world of twisted wonderland. The blots were dangerous and choosing to stay there had left worry amongst some of the older students that treated you more like a sibling. Tsunataro especially seemed- more angry then normal when you two couldn’t go gargoyle watching because of the state of your leg.

Even with magic it was going to take time. Time to heal- perhaps that was on purpose of Agapi though. The school’s therapist. Sure it was an experience but now it was time for summer! The school gets a few months off but..considering there’s no home to go back. Along with Crowley being extremely unreliable, Kalim had invited you over to his place! One of his family’s summer homes that was barely used anymore. In the Sunshine Lands too! Pictures had been shared on Magicam before, it’s hot and has lots of beaches after all it’s so close to the Coral Sea!

“I’m hungry though Nyah..”

“Don’t worry about it too much Grim we can ea-“ the sound of another voice overpowering your own “Yuu-san!” Hues locking onto the colorfully dressed white haired man.

“Kalim!” He had originally said beforehand he wasn’t going to be here-

“Yuu-San! I decided I couldn’t leave you here especially during such an important part of the year so I just told my family that I would see them later on after the solstice!” the young man would come closer to you with a bright smile on his face that shone like pearls. “Oh and I brought Jamil too-!” Pointing his fingers towards the man clad in a loose red top and black shorts.

“Hello little star”

“Kalim you’re confusing the events. Yaldā Night is for the winter solstice and Tirgan is for the summer solstice.” The man would sigh and go back to braiding your hair. One’s that we’re similar to his own. Small yes but with detail and decorated with small tassels.

He had been at this for awhile now along with the rainbow colored bands that were around your wrist. Kalim insisted that Jamil was the one to make it special and help you out! Really Kalim- can’t seem to remember the holidays that are seen as important. Sometimes even needs a reminder for his own birthday.

Hues focused on watching the white haired male get distracted by something and running off to check what it was- probably a crab.

Jamil would let out a small chuckle close to the shell of your ear “I didn’t get to say it yet..but I’m glad you are here. Spending Tirgan with you is much more interesting since you don’t know a single thing about it” a teasing look in those dark hues of his.

“You should tell me more about it then..”

“Only if you tell me more about yourself, little star..”

The food was so good it might bring tears to your eyes!

Jamil’s cooking was on a whole new level if he wasn’t basically babysitting Kalim all the time then he should try and become a cook instead!

“Are you enjoying the Sholeh Zard? It’s my mother’s recipe she taught me it for today..”

“For today?”

“Like I said today..is a very important day for a lot of people, maybe it doesn’t seem like it but it’s just being with the people you care about and spending time with them”

that smile is as bright as the sun

“And I was happy to hear you’d be coming here for the break instead of staying back at the school alone-because you’ve done so much for others but the one thing you’ve convinced me to do- was take a break. Though I’ve yet to see you relax.”

He wasn’t wrong- you’re always running around. Doing task, getting hurt, overblots, trauma, overworked, and studying! It’s so much the weight is so much-

“So you can take this time-“ feeling a tug at your hand and being hoisted up onto your feet “to be yourself and allow me to carry the weight.”

For a moment it hurt the pressure on your foot but nothing could be as blissful compared to the next few motions dancing under the sun.

The bright star shining over two people celebrating where the darkness will only reach for a few hours. Where shadows can’t invade on the footsteps dancing in sand and sea.

For now everything can be forgotten, just being around each other for now can be enough.

Enough for the brightest star to witness while other stars watch on in amazement from their faraway places.

“I love you, little star”