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zayray030 · 4 years ago

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Don't Mess With Shiratorizawa's setter

Summary: Semi didn't appreciate having his boyfriend ogled by a bunch of boys. It was time to set things straight.

Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou

If those absolute assholes did not shut the fuck up in the next five seconds someone was going to get whacked by his chemistry textbook and then stabbed with a whisk.

And that was the least descriptive killing method that the Shiratorizawa team had for killing the asshole, homophobes that sat on the table in front of them, shit-talking Shirabu, whilst said boy had gone to get a book

“Satori, I need your help to help restrain myself from injuring these boys. I would much rather not inform my father that I have regressed to methods such as punching to let out my anger,” said Ushijima, the usually stoic teen having a demeanour of complete rage surrounding him.

“You're funny, big guy if you actually think I'm going to stop you from killing those brats.” came Tendou’s tight response.

“Semi-San? Are you okay?” asked Goshiki. The poor boy was probably the only thing stopping the team from committing first-degree murder but they could tell it was all being reluctant.

“If one more thing about my boyfriend comes out of those prejudistic assholes and it has to do with the size of his ass, or his clothes, or anything to do with sex then I will personally admit to being guilty at the trial.” Semi threatened darkly and Goshiki resisted the urge to shudder. His Senpai was scary when it came to their setter.

“As his best friend I allow this,” muttered Kawanishi, equally as dark. He did not appreciate hearing that shit come from those boys. Shirabu might be a brat but he was his best friend dammit and nobody was allowed to say anything about him.

Okay, so like let's fast forward a couple of hours ago before the Shiratorizawa boys volleyball team had begun to discuss torture methods on how to kill the idiots talking about their bratty yet adorable setter.

~A few hours ago~

Semi was going to go into cardiac arrest. He was sure of it. That was the only excuse for why his heart had begun racing to the point he was sure he would have to go to his doctor as quickly as possible.

Or maybe it was because seeing his boyfriend (yes! Boyfriend! God, he was never going to get tired of saying it) of three months in an adorably oversized, pink pastel sweatshirt and shorts so short you couldn't see them below the sweatshirt. Along with this ridiculously adorable look, his salty boyfriend had a pair of golden round glasses on and his cheeks were flushed.

Semi Eita would gladly die right here and now and be quite happy with his life. After all, this image of his boyfriend was enough to check everything off his bucket list.

The rest of the team seemed to have the same thought, all of them just staring at his boyfriend as if he was an angel and if they weren't used to his normal saltiness they would have all assumed him to be an angel. Even Ushijima seemed to find his boyfriend angelic cause the normally stoic teen seemed to have his jaw unclenched. And in Ushijima language that practically meant his jaw was dropping.

All except Kawanishi seemed to have trouble thinking as they stared at Shirabu. Kawanishi, the little fucker, had had the nerve to just simply waltz up to the work of art and hug the smaller boy. The boy replied with the same energy as a tame cat turned savage and he aimed consistent kicks at his best friend's ankles.

“Put me down you savage.” the boy hissed and Kawanishi snorted before finally releasing the boy.

“I'm going to ignore the hypocrisy just this once.” said the taller boy.

When Shirabu merely touched he turned around and threw a smug look at Semi, the expression rare on his normally deadpan face. The look screamed, ‘Ha, I get privileges as his best friend that you don't get and you're his boyfriend, bitch.’

Okay, so Semi might be over-exaggerating but it was clear that the second year had it for him, especially after he had started dating Shirabu.

It wasn't that Kawanishi wasn't supportive of his best friend. In fact, he had been ecstatic when the two setters had announced their relationship cause it meant that Shirabu wouldn't be talking about the older boy constantly and asking whether he liked him or if he would be kicked out of the team for being gay and if the team would tell anyone and if it would be like with his dad.

He was glad that his best friend was no longer second-guessing himself but he had seen Kenjirou at his most vulnerable and he wasn't sure he wanted anyone else to see him like that. If Semi wanted to earn the right for him not to be a prettier brat than even Shirabu then he would have to earn the gingers trust.

(Who knew that that time would come in like, the next two hours.)

“Eita,” Kenjirou said, usually monotone voice happy as he walked over to his boyfriend. He'd gained more confidence over the course of their relationship and had started initiating things first now.

Semi had to suck in a deep breath when the small boyfriend wrapped his arms around him. ‘The sweater is as soft as it looks.’

“Baby,” he answered back, with his usual smirk and internally cheated when the boy blushed and puffed out his cheeks. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Tendou clutch his chest and he couldn't blame him, Shirabu was adorable.

“Loser,” he mumbled, face still burning and stud on his toes to peck his cheek. The boy quickly turned around, cheeks flushing and walked away, making a show of making everyone follow him. Semi followed, with a giddy grin on his face. He so wasn't going to get used to that.

Everyone, although still slightly shook at seeing their feral setter in such adorable attire, followed the shortest player.

“So, Kenjirou~” began Tendou, leaning into his Semi’s boyfriend. Out of a fit of jealousy and not really thinking about it, he pulled the younger onto his lap and shot Tendou a glare. His boyfriend however seemed more reactant to the surprising touch, if the immediate blush didn't say anything.

The redhead on the other hand simply smirked at the reaction before turning to the boy with uneven bangs.

“I didn't know you couldn't look so cute!” he teased. Wrong thing to say, which was made clear when Taichi immediately tensed and winced.

“Problem?” Shirabu answered testily and Tendou knew he accidentally stepped on a nerve far too raw to be touched.

“Well, I wasn't going to say it's bad. Just different. Which suits you.” he says, trying to salvage the situation and make the air less tense and awkward.

That wasn't enough for one Shirabu Kenjirou however, and he continued to scowl, turning back to his text.

“What Satori is trying to say,” and Ushijima, ever the peace-loving farm boy he was, decided to help Tendou with indirectly apologising to their underclassmen. “Is that you do indeed look different. But you also look cute and content. And I feel like that should be enough.” his normally blunt voice softened a degree as if to not scare the boy that idolised him so much.

Kenjirou just blushed and everyone present wished that they had the ability to sneakily take pictures on their phones.

Semi simply cuddled Shirabu’s back and continued to work on his assignment, adamant on both ignoring his boyfriends best friends glare and cuddling with his boyfriend. It was peaceful and quiet, and everyone in the Shiratorizawa volleyball team felt themselves relaxing a significant bit.

However, that all changed when Shirabu got up to grab a book from the shelves to help him on one of the essays that he was stuck on and too stubborn to ask help for.

“You know you can always ask, right?” asked Reon, apparently one of the fastest to recover but nor completely. He at least had the human decency to not stare at Shirabu as if he was an object.

“Hmph,” replied Shirabu, already moving away. Everyone around the table chuckled at the sheer stubbornness before returning back to their studies.

Or at least that's what they would have wanted. Instead, they began being subjected to a bunch of immature boys talking about Shirabu.

“That ass looks tight.” one of the guys jeered, annoying voice lowered down enough so the librarian couldn't hear.

“I know right? Always knew that little brat was a slut.” another continued.

“Think we could corner him later and see if he is as tight as he looks?”

“I doubt he is. But, why the fuck not. Would love to see him put in his place.”

A small snapping sound came from the table where the volleyball team were at and Eita realised it was because he had snapped the pencil in his hand. And it had been his favourite one as well.

And that's how we got put in this situation.

“Bet you his volleyball teams already had a go at that ass. There's no other way he could have possibly made it on to this team without having to bend over for them.”

Semi stood up after hearing that. No way were they going to insinuate that his boyfriend, the guy who worked his ass off day and night to stay on as first string and to also keep up his grades, was only on the team because they were fucking him. No fucking way.

Nobody tried to stop him as he walked over to those boys. Taichi even looked excited at the thought of Semi beating them up.

“Hello there.” he greeted, flashing them all a bright smile.

Immediately, they all stiffened. He could faintly hear an ‘oh shit’ but his grin just became sharper. They wouldn't be feeling regret in the first place if they had kept their damn mouths shut.

“So I couldn't help but hear you guys talk about my boyfriend, Shirabu Kenjirou?” he questioned sweetly, but everyone could see the venom on his eyes, daring them to say anymore. Seems like some of the students at Shiratorizawa had death wishes.

“Oh yeah? And what about it? You gonna invite us to fuck his tight ass?”

Everybody stared at the boy, all wondering how in the great Lord's name he had managed to get into Shiratorizawa.

“No. I'm giving you an opportunity to shut the fuck up before I beat you into the next century,” he replied sweetly and he could see a few boys scooting away from the one who had been oh so stupid to try and provoke Semi. At least some seemed to be getting their survival instincts back.

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to about it you fag-” the boy never got to finish his sentence and he doubted the boy would ever be able to speak again, out of fear or physical inability who knew, as a fist connected into his mouth. The boys around them didn't say a peep but their eyes widened and they all huddled together scared. Good.

“Here's out it's going to go, k buddy boy? You are going to never look, talk or think about my boyfriend or me again? If I ever hear you say any of those words I will find you and show you the true power of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team.” his voice had gotten deeper and he could hear one of the boys whimpering.

When the boy who's collar he was holding nodded in fear he let him go and he fell into a crumpled heap on the floor.

“That goes for the rest of you,” he added back to the boys behind him who were trying to escape. Immediately they all nodded, all in fear. Immediately he flashed them all a grin that caused the fear in their eyes to grow. “Perfect! Hope to never see you assholes ever again,” he said brightly before making his way back to his table.

When he finally got there he was swarmed with quiet congratulations however Taichi stayed silent. After everyone finished praising Semi he spoke.

“If you hurt my best friend I will make you wish for death. Currently, I am holding you in high respect. Fuck that up and you'll be lower than those assholes.” and that had to be the most passion the normally dead inside boy had used.

“Got it,” Semi said, giving him finger guns. The look of utter disgust on the redhead's face made him let out a small laugh.

“What's gotten you so happy in a library?” came a voice from behind him and when he turned around it was his own personal angel.

“Nothing, sunshine,” he said, pulling the younger in between his legs and wrapping his arms around him. “I'm tired. Can we go back,” he whispered into the ear, hands grasped tightly onto his hips.

He could hear Shirabu tsk but his boyfriend complied. “Fine. Let's go you lazy, cute, jerk.” he huffed, cheeks blazing.

Semi just chuckled, bending down slightly to give the boy a kiss on the cheek.

He quickly packed their stuff up and waved bye to their friends. After that Shirabu went up to the librarian and asked to check out the book he had gotten for their studies.

Once they were outside Shirabu turned to him, face a mixture of gratitude and annoyance.

“You know you didn't have to do that, right?” asked Shirabu, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“If somebody tries to talk shit about the people I care about they will get the shit beat out of them. A fair system if I do say so myself,” said Semi, not even bothering to beat around the bush.

Shirabu stared at him and it was clear the boy was about to have a go at him before he yawned. “We'll finish this off when I don't feel dead on my feet, clear?” threatened Shirabu.

“Pfft, sure darling. Meanwhile, I'm going to take you to your dorm. And don't bother trying to argue with me.” he added when he saw Shirabu opening his mouth in protest.

The copper blonde shot him a glare before walking ahead. Semi merely chuckled, before going after him, slinging an arm around his waist.

By the next day, it seemed everyone had found out about the library incident. Semi managed to get away scot-free since there wasn't any evidence against him and soon the whole school learned not to fuck with the people on the Shiratorizawa team.

Well unless you wanted to die young.

#semi x shirabu #semishira #semi eita #shiritorizawa #shirasemi #shirabu kenjirou #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou satori #taichi kawanishi #goshiki tsutomu #Reon #Fluff #Protectiveness #Don't fuck with members of Shiratorizawa #Shiraby wearing pastel clothes is my favourite headconon

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mystech-master · 4 years ago

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F/GO High School/Modern AU BS

Me and @rex101111 have been talking about a modern/HS AU ft. as many Chaldean servants as possible. Here are the ideas we came up with (I am pretty much cut and pasting our message convo, so this is a mixture of both me and Rex's ideas):

Gil is the douchbag Senior everyone hates but his dad owns the school or whatever so he can do whatever he wants. The only decent person who willingly hangs out with him is his childhood friend Enkidu who's hoping he can un-douch his bro. He has kid Gil as his little brother and Caster Gil as his older bro who both agree that he sucks (Gil is the loser middle child of the family), Caster Gil wonders what Enkidu sees in his shit head brother. "He's too good for you." "Blow it out your ass." "One day he's going to wise up, see how much of a shit you are, and when you're all alone don't come crying to me." Caster Gil is in college studying political science, Kid Gil goes to a fancy boarding school. Archer Gil goofs off and throws parties

Scathach is a swimming class teacher, mainly b/c I recall underwater training being a part of Cu's regiment under her tutelage. People were jealous of the Cus for like two seconds when they find out the swim teacher is their mom, then they see her having them do an extra twenty laps and ignoring when OG Cu starts floating in the water. "CU DIED!" "YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!" while Scathach is like "you have two seconds to stop playing around before I ACTUALLY drown you" and he's back to doing laps.

Yeah with 4-5 Cus (if you count Setanta from Arcade) that is like 5 brothers.

Nightingale as school nurse, she is friends with Asclepius who works at a hospital associated with the school (strictly professional, but the students think otherwise).

Side note, keep in mind you can have multiple servants be the same type of teacher, just for different classes/grades.

King Hassan is the old Religious History teacher. Every one thinks he's older then the rock is the school is made out of. He has a scary face and a scarier voice but most students consider him the most fair and patient teacher in the whole school. He always gets a lot of food gifts before Ramadan form the students. (A few students, such as the Guda twins and Mash, call him gramps.) The other Hassans are his grandkids, like actual grandkids. He's super strict with them because he expects a lot from them. He always praises them when they do well though. He made sure they ALL got into his class and they've been living in fear ever since. They love their grandpa but by Allah they know not to disappoint him. The only one to ever get out of anything is kid Hassan (one of the hundred face). Cursed Arm is oldest, then Asako (the main hundred face), then Serenity.

"I am very disappointed in ALL of you, have you all lost your heads? I swear I-*to kid Hassan*-ah no Habibi not you you're fine here have a candy-*back to the rest*-I KNOW you're better than this!"

VERY traditional guy, Cursed Arm mutters "Oh for God's sake" while doing a pop quiz and King Hassan looms over him and growls, "No Blaspheming In This Class Room"

For the various Artoria/Arturias, I imagined Lancer and Lancer Alter being sisters, so Saber Alter is a cousin. That leaves everyone else to just be sisters with one brother. Mother Lartoria owns a casino and gas her own yacht in reference to the summer event where she became a Ruler. If you want MHX could be a part of the family as a massive fucking Star Wars nerd. MHXX and MHX Alter are her mom and sister (so MHXX is a third sister for the two Lancer Artorias)

For Irisviel, I remember in one of the Nero Fest things that she was called Therapist Iri. Maybe she starts to get into that b/c she wants to help her adoptive son Shirou (instead of a big fire like in Zero it can be an orphanage fire thing, similar situation but a much smaller scale) , so she is the school therapist/psychiatrist. Like Maruki in P5 Royal.

Iskandar died in his 30s, Waver is around his 30s as Lord El Melloi II. The two are old college friends who still hang out and Alexander is Iskandar’s kid.

If you guys want you can see this as the two being gay dads since I know that ship is popular.

Fran had an abusive father before Babbage and Moriarty got involved. In the og story, Frankenstien has a scientific mindset like his creator, here Fran has a talent in the field, but she also hates it b/c it reminds her of him. Like imagine being talented at the thing your abusive parent was good at/known for. Moriarty tried to get it into her that SHE'S the one with the talent, not her college dropout bum of a father, "From you tell me of him Victor couldn't engineer his way out of an argument with a cat, you have a magnificent mind my dear, not letting it flourish to spite him would be a horrible waste...it's your talent, your skill. Not his." He smiles that smile she loves that scares every one but she knows he only smiles like that when he is absolutely convinced of something, "and you can out perform him without breaking a sweat."

Moriarty teaches Fran sign language while Babbage teaches her some engineering.

Jekyll is going for a major in medicine with a minor in law (in the actual irl story Dr. Jekyll was a doctor in medicine and law).

For science associated servants, you got da Vinci, Babbage, Edison, and Tesla as possible science teachers.

The Jeanne sisters. Without the Avenger BS, the reason Jalter (or Joan as one series of fics calls her) could hate her here is just inferiority complex and being compared to her perfect saint big sister all her life. Joan does have her talents, based on the summer event an, but again she doesn't acknowledge her own talent b/c of her always being compared to her older sister., in the 7 counterfeit events she is a really good artist. And it is the typical thing of Jeanne actually being scared out of her wits of being less than perfect because of all the expectations thrust on her. She gets one A- and runs to the bathroom crying and Joan has to swallow her pride and actually have a conversation with her sister for the first time in years. Jeanne Alter lily puts up Christmas decorations super early, much to Jeanne Alter/Joan's displeasure.

"IT JUST TURNED NOVEMBER CHILL TF OUT!"

"CHRISTMAS!"

Martha is Jeanne's BF since middle school and has this HUGE dog that scares everyone and growls at anyone expect Martha and Jeanne. She calls him Terry.

Rex loves Penthesilea. and we talked at length about the situation between her and Achilles. Can you not tell that he likes a woman who can kick his ass *gestures to all of his Baiken posts*

Rex's idea: I think they had a fight when they were little and Achilles, being a little shit back then, made fun of her for being a girl, and Penth has been sore about it ever since. She keeps running into big misogynistic meatheads that reminded her of that and she just got angrier over the years. She's a wrestler and can knock out just about every dude in school by herself. Achilles is very regretful about back then and wants to apologize but Penth ain't having any of it.

My idea: I thought they were on opposing HS sports teams and when Achilles handed her ass to her he forgot to drink his respect women juice and then Penth got all pissed.

In this AU, Penth and Hippolyta's dad was a general who taught them how to kick the ass of men twice their size since they were seven or something.

Penth surprises everyone when a festival comes up and she gets picked to be the one to organize everything...and does a spectacular job. Another surprise is that she plans on being a business major when she goes to college (Obligatory Amazoness CEO jokes)

Bedivere is the Arturia Pendragon family butler with a prosthetic arm. He's also the security guard, last guy that tried to steal something or cause trouble got slapped right out of the window he sneaked in from.

Francis Drake and Artoria Alter Lancer are work friends (referencing them both being associated with the Wild Hunt in F/GO's lore).

Beni-Enma is the short and shorter tempered lunch lady, last kid who mouthed off at her during lunch got smacked upside the head with her spoon. She's sweet, but if you're in detention and have to help her in the kitchen she's a mini Gorden Ramsey, "IT'S RAW DECHI!!!" She can also come into the home EC class where Shirou is her best student. Also her roasting of the other girls like in her quest. Getting Fs in Beni's class is the worst, because it isn't just an F, it's a meticulous dressing down of exactly why letting into a kitchen should be considered a war crime, dechi.

The three Avenger Nobus are three different people. 1st Ascension is basically Archer Nobu, then you got Oda Kipposhi, and then the mom is Ascension 3 with Demon King Nobunaga. The youngest Ascension 1 Nobu is a musician. Demon King Nobu is one of those "super scary but also super polite people that only makes them scarier" type, basically a female koei Nobunaga from samurai warriors (check out some cutscenes form the games with him, he's a treat).

Imagine Demon King Nobu mom in a business suit.

Suzuka Gozen and Sei Shonagon are the textaholics who always talk in slang to the point of it sounding like they speak a different language. Murasaki is the librarian but Sei is like that ONE student who just makes her job so much harder.

Every week it's "No phones in the library Miss Shonagon." while Sei rolls her eyes and types out twitter post like "fugly ol librarian at my school needs a life lol"

Oui Katsushika is a gifted art student, and her dad (not a floating little octopus), is just a normal dude with a squid/octopus like beard. She's the teacher's pet in De Vinci's art class.

Eresh and Ishtar come from a rich family, Ereshkigal is the older sister so she had a shit load of responsibility to take over the family business while Ishtar basically gets to party her life away. Rin is the cousin they each try and swing their way. Eresh wants Rin to keep up her studies and get into a good university, Ishtar wants Rin to loosen the fuck up and admit that she likes that scrawny Emiya kid already.

BB is the host of a talk show downtown so she is kind of an absentee mom. Meltryllis has prosthetic legs that she specifically asked to be made into stilts b/c she wanted to be taller, and Passonlip has a massive rack that makes life difficult (either people staring, people assuming she's gonna be a home wrecker b/c said staring must be intentional, etc.), and of course he also has prosthetic arms to match her canon claws, obviously not as massive.

Hijikata is a very serious police officer but his wife Carmilla just uses this to have fun in the bedroom. They have two Dobermans. Hijikata's route has him patrolling near the school so most of the kids know as that scary police dude that has a picture of his wife in his pocket. One day a famous Idol called Eli-chan~ (yes spelled with the ~) is about to perform in the town and the kids can't stop talking about her, so Hijikata overhears. But, being the serious dude he is he shrugs it off until he sees a picture of this "Eli-chan~" and realizes it's his sister-in-law that came to visit and suddenly the influx of parasitic paparazzi near his house start making sense.

Carmilla: "Now you see why I hate them?", Hijikata: "No you cannot send the dogs after them honey."

She almost ran one of them over in her, very expensive, car and when that reporter says she should be locked up Hijikata corrects that would only happen if she had hit him...and she would be fined. For littering.

Okita Alter being Hijikata's partner, while Okita is her younger sister who's looked up to Hijikata since she was a little kid but she has asthma and such so she's afraid she might not get accepted.

Sigurd owns a metalworks shop (referencing his myth where he was raised by the dwarf Reginn), he met his wife Brynhildr when she was disowned by her overly controlling father.

Ozymandias, Nitocris, and Cleopatra are all the high board members of a company. Nitocris specifically got wind of Scheherazade's abusive husband situation and after getting said husband arrested, she offered Scheherazade a job.

Atalanta is a college student/TA who worked with Achilles' dad who ends up at their HS for a program or something, Achilles' dad has told him a lot about her.

Amakusa Shirou is an uncle married to the CEO of Babylon Gardens Pharmaceuticals, Semiramis. Semiramis herself is kinda chill if REALLY scary. She had to be pretty cutthroat to get to her position in the company, but Amakusa Shirou helped her mellow out, but she is still a massive tsundere.

"You know you COULD poison their lunch." "Semi, dear, I'm not going to poison my coworker's sandwich for being an ass." "It wouldn't kill them! Just a bit in their peanut better and they'll be stuck on the toilet for a week, no harm no foul."

Rex initially said Taiga would be an overly enthusiastic gym teacher but then I remembered that she was a homeroom/English teacher in Fate canon, but either or can do if you wanna be unique.

For Quetzalcoatl, Wrestling club supervisor when she isn't the senior year gym teacher. Some of the male students laughed that they didn't think a woman would know anything about wrestling. Two piledrives later, the students have earned a new appreciation for the importance on how not to be two pieces of shit. She's big on Lucha as in canon and during Halloween she gets JAGUARMAN to have an exhibition fight with her. They make a show of it but later on Taiga admits that Quatz could have CRUSHED her if they were actually fighting. She takes the wrestling club out for homemade Mexican food after tournaments

For Siduri, there's a bunch of rumors she's dating Caster Gil but it's strictly professional, Caster respects her too much to consider that. Archer Gil hits on her relentlessly, she manages to wound his ego more severely then anyone else simply by being unfailingly polite in her rejections and treating him like what he is, a teenage punk jumping higher than he can handle to land.

Ibaraki is Shuten's adoptive little sister after she was taken from an abusive mother, hence why Ibaraki looks up to her. Ibuki is either Shuten's big sister who had to take on a guardian role, or just her mom. Shuten and Ibuki have a bit of a strained relationship because Shuten saw the way Ibuki acted as they grew up, taking more and more responsibilities onto herself and refusing any distractions. And she decided that her biggest nightmare is to wake up one morning and realize she's turned into Ibuki so she tries to do everything to avoid that, hence their relationship not being the best. Ibaraki is kinda stuck in the middle because she wants to side with Shuten but she sees where Ibuki is coming from. Messy.

Caren is still Kotomine’s daughter, but he isn’t a good dad and in rebellion she sleeps around despite being a woman of god. Including sleeping with local punk Angra Mainyu. Angra Mainyu seems like a bad guy but he has a shit load of issues due to being blamed for everything going wrong in his old town, eventually coming to believe them and thinking he will cause nothing but problems. Caren banging him gives him a type of closeness he’s never felt, but under very warped circumstances.

For the Tamamo family, Vitch totally fucked her way up a corporate ladder or something, imagined Tamamo Cat working at a Cat Cafe if she were a Student. Tamamo no Mae accidentally fed her prev BF a food he was allergic too, and that kind of haunted her and scared her rep. IDK basically she seriously fucked up a previous relationship, either on purpose or accidentally, and that kind of hurts her deeply so she wants to start over with Hakuno.

Nero and Tamamo no Mae are rivals over this one guy.

Kiichi Hougen is the adoptive mom, Benkei is the family friend/uncle, Taira is Ushiwaka's older sister. Taira isn't on the best of terms with her family, some drama way back caused a rift and nowadays Ushi is the only one who's willing to talk to her and visit. Benkei never lets her go alone because he doesn't trust Taira one bit. Taira and Ushiwaka are Kintoki and Tomoe's cousins (I say Tomoe b/c apparently her husband and Ushiwaka were half cousins, with their grandpa having kids with their grandmas. I tried to make a whole family tree out of a few servants).

These are the ideas we had the most to talk about, if you guys have any suggestions for your fav servants in this AU, let either me or Rex know. Or just reblog and say them here. Who knows maybe you have a much better idea for a Servant we already mentioned.

#fgo #fate series #fate grand order #high school/modern au #high school au #f/go #fate/grand order

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ddaenggtan · 5 years ago

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as we go along | myj [m]

pairing | min yoonji x reader

wc | 10.4k

genre | NSFW; Fluff, Smut, a dash of Angst bc why not

Four years ago, the beautiful stunning attractive frustrating Min Yoonji came into your life. Ever since, it’s been a competition between the two of you to win the HOA’s Holiday Decorating Contest. The fiery looks she gives you paired with the pointed insults throw you off your game every year, but not this time. This holiday season, you’re determines to win; and along the way you might just find that Yoonji’s been trying to win something else.

;OR the queer hallmark movie of your dreams.

warnings/tags | idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers, Awkward Gays, Idiot/Oblivious Gays, very strong language i think this MC curses almost as much as i do, oral (female receiving) x2, fingering, wall sex, theres like....a hint of body worship in that MC loves eating pussy bc lbr. what else could possibly compare to that. uhh side jinkook, as well as some side namyoonmin and some vhope if u squint real hard. hwasa and chungha are a lesbian power couple. OH The Min Twins aka Yoongi and Yoonji are siblings uwu

a/n | this is 100% every single lesbian fantasy of my dreams because i just really love the ladeez and also min yoonji needs more characterization outside of 'stone cold butch domme' so uh. here ya go. i love ladeez so this is v self indulgent and also Super Gay.

this is part of the 25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology

[Today]

Red bleeds into green and glitters magnificently on the snow. Lights and tinsel are strewn all over the yard of your parents’ house, creating a rather pretty collage of sparkles and swirls against the white backdrop. You wish you could appreciate it more.

As it stands, however, you’ve been outside for hours untangling the decorative strands so that you can hang them on the gutters, eaves, and railings of the two story house behind you. Your mother had insisted you work inside but you know better. The cats - Mochi and Pablo - are your favorite in the world and you love them dearly, but one of their favorite things in the world has always been holiday decorations. The number of times you’ve had to stop them from chewing on lights of knocking the tree down is frankly ridiculous. So instead you’re unravelling everything so you can get started on what you’re sure is going to be your best year yet.

You’ve always loved decorating, of course, especially for the holidays. Getting up before dawn to go pick out one of the giant fir trees to stand in their living room, picking out new figurines for the Winter Village that sits on the mantle, helping your parents put ornaments on the tree. You love holiday decorating nearly as much as you love the feeling of victory in your chest.

“If you had an organizer that wouldn’t take nearly as long,” says a voice from behind you. It’s melodic and deceptively sweet in spite of the lower register, and you don’t turn. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. You don’t even respond, instead settling your gloved hands on your hips and eyeing the front porch so you can decide where to start.

“Really? Ignoring me now? Tsk tsk, and here I thought you were better than being a sore loser.”

Continuing on your mission to pretend she isn’t there, you heft several yards of lights over your shoulder and head toward the ladder you have against the porch roof. You may as well start up high.

“Interesting choice,” Yoonji mutters as she watches you. The hair on the back of your neck bristles, and you take a deep breath to calm and center yourself. “I’d heard that icicle lights were a bit last season, but I’m excited for this vintage look you’re going for. If you need more, let me know. I think the ones I used last year are still in the garage.”

“What do you want, Yoonji?” You huff, turning over your shoulder to glare at her. She looks entirely too at home in your yard with a steaming thermos in her mittened hands.

“Just wanted to say hi. Wasn’t sure you were coming this year, considering how late you got in.”

“My flight was delayed for weather reasons,” you snap.

“Ah. That’s why I always drive up instead.” There’s a pregnant pause that’s filled only with the huffs of your breath as you focus on the lights in front of you. “Oh, but you never got your license, did you? Ah, you should call me next year, we can carpool.”

“I got my license this past year,” You bite out. She doesn’t need to know that it took a few tries. It’s not your fault it makes you anxious to be behind the wheel. “Seriously. I have work to do.”

“Obviously,” Yoonji mutters. You flash her a glare and she just smiles back. “Just wanted to see how you were, if you needed any…” She pauses, eyes trailing over the explosion of decorations on your lawn with thinly veiled judgement in her eyes. “Help.”

“If I needed your help, I wouldn’t be winning this year’s contest.”

“By the looks of it, you aren’t winning this year’s contest anyway.” Her mutter doesn’t escape your notice. But that’s the real problem you have with Min Yoonji.

She’s sarcastic and blunt and kind of intimidatingly hot, but you can handle that. You are a strong, independent queer woman in the modern age and you are not about to let some random lesbian intimidate you, no matter how much you kind of wanted to fuck her in the past. Yoonji is not a problem for you.

It’s the way she’s constantly putting you down, giving you backhanded compliments, and generally acting like she’s better than you. While winning your parents’ neighborhood’s annual Holiday Decorating Contest that their local Homeowner’s Association runs. Everyone gets a kick out of the friendly competition, the winners get a gift certificate to a Korean BBQ place, and a good time is had by all.

Except you.

Because you’ve made it your mission to win - to beat the current reigning champion of the past three years who stands on your lawn sipping what smells like hot cocoa and silently judging your decor choices like she didn’t put a massive inflatable pumpkin on the roof for Halloween.

She watches you the entire time you hang up the lights, carefully attaching them to the edge of the awning covering the front porch. It isn’t until your father pulls into the driveway and you’re done with the upper half completely - about to start the railing - and descending the ladder one careful step at a time that she speaks again.

“Those are hanging too low,” She tells you. She doesn’t seem to mind when you ignore her in favor of wrapping lights around the stair banister.

“Hey there, Yoonji!” Your father calls as he starts to unload the groceries. “What brings you to this part of town?” They both laugh at the joke and you force back a gag.

“Just hanging out,” She calls back. “Making sure your daughter doesn’t break her neck for some silly competition. You need help with those?” Your dad waves her off.

“I’m not that old, but thank you. Besides, it looks like you’re needed elsewhere.” He gestures with one bag-laden hand, and both you and Yoonji turn.

A large SUV pulls into the driveway across the street; the passenger door swings open before the vehicle even stops, and a girl - woman, really - launches herself out of the car. She’s across the street in record time, nearly tackling Yoonji to the snow with the force of her hug. Both look excited to see each other, a rare smile on Yoonji’s face that makes you burn with something that doesn’t feel quite like the usual rage.

The two are talking rapidly in your front lawn, too harried and chaotic for you to make out much of anything besides the fact that they missed each other. They look comfortable with each other in a way you’ve never been and you force yourself to remember that you don’t care . Even as you eye the way the newcomer’s hand sits just that little bit too low on Yoonji’s back.

The sounds of car doors closing and snow crunching draws your attention and you’re shocked to see another gorgeous girl making her way over. She looks as excited as the first, yet more subdued about it.

Likely because they’re on a lawn that decidedly does not belong to them, but you could be wrong there.

Both of the women are absolutely gorgeous, though, easily model material. The first has artfully styled dark hair that falls in perfect waves down her shoulders, and is delightfully curvy in all the places the world loves. Her cheekbones are to die for, makeup flawless, and you resist the urge to pluck at your own outfit, chosen for warmth over style.

The second woman is no different; not quite as thicc, as Jimin would say, but the figure suits her, as does the straight platinum hair that hangs down to her lower back. It’s stark against the black of her expensive-looking coat, and it only adds to the energy she carries that draws you in even as you wish it wouldn’t.

“Oh, how rude of me! These are my neighbors,” Yoonji says after a minute. You don’t miss the way she hesitates saying your name, or the almost predatory smiles the other two women get.

“So you’re the one,” The dark-haired one says. You don’t get a chance to question it before the blonde cuts her off.

“I’m Chungha,” She says with a friendly smile. “And this is Hyejin.”

“My friends call me Hwasa, though,” The brunette adds. “We hate to tear her away but it’s been ages since we’ve seen our girl.”

“You saw me like two weeks ago,” Yoonji mutters. You’re too caught off-guard by anyone calling Yoonji their ‘girl’ to respond, but you don’t miss the way her cheeks tinge pink from something that isn’t the cold.

“So we’re gonna steal her away now,” Hwasa continues, oblivious. You don’t protest, letting your father chat amicably while they say their goodbyes and you look between the girls.

Hwasa’s hand is still lingering on Yoonji’s lower back, something neither of them seem bothered by. That’s something that friends do, though, right? Jimin squeezes your ass constantly and the two of you definitely aren’t together.

You hear your name and a question but you can’t seem to really focus beyond a mumbled agreement to whatever you were asked. The way Chungha’s eyes glance over her companions feels like something more, but you can never really be sure. Not in this day and age.

But when they head back across the road to Yoonji’s house, Hwasa doesn’t hesitate to lace their fingers together. Yoonji lets her do it, and the glimpse of the grin and the flushed cheeks you see make your heart clench.

Paired with the way Chungha eyes the pair as she follows behind - a decidedly more than friendly gaze - and every alarm in your brain is going off. She looks ready to jump them both the second they get in the door.

“I’m impressed,” Your father says.

“I’m not done yet,” You tell him, turning back to the decorations sprawled across the lawn. “I’ve still got to-”

“No, no,” He interrupts. “Not the decorations. That you’re finally making strides to be nicer to Yoonji.” You stare blankly at him, not understanding what part of your attitude towards her said anything about being nicer.

And anyway, why shouldn’t she be nicer to you?

“The party…?” You blink at his words, looking in all respects like a startled rabbit. “The annual Min family holiday party? That they just invited you to? The one that you said you would attend?”

“I’m sorry, I did what. ”

“It just happened, sweetheart. I was standing right here for the entire thing.”

“No,” You tell him firmly. “No, because I would remember telling Min fucking Yoonji that I was going to her stupid holiday party.”

Your father just shakes his head. “Then perhaps we ought to get you a doctor’s appointment, sweetie, because I watched it all happen not five seconds ago.” He pats your shoulder, doing his best to show his solidarity for your sudden idiocy, and makes his way inside.

You spin to watch him go, all the potential protests and complaints clogging together in your throat and leaving you silent. He gets to the bottom step before you’re storming angrily back to your decorations, because whatever , you’ll go to the stupid party.

Yoonji can have her dumb holiday party with those overhyped cookies your father always raves about. She can have her caroling and her sing-a-long that your mother adores. She can even have her two super hot model girlfriends, because you’re a modern woman, and sometimes that’s what a relationship is. Whatever. It’s her prerogative. You don’t care. It is not going to affect you, or your decorating, at all.

You scream a little when the icicle lights you so carefully hung knock against your father’s head on his way inside.

[Three Years Ago]

“You look like you’re struggling,” a voice says behind you.

They aren’t wrong, either. You’re balanced precariously atop the porch roof your parents’ new hours, hanging garland off the edges so your dad doesn’t have to do it himself.

You turn to see who’s talking to you - especially since you don’t actually know anyone, this being your first visit to the neighborhood - and very nearly have to hold on to the edge beside you to stop yourself from falling off.

The man that stands on your parents’ front walkway is easily the most beautiful you’ve seen - a casual elegance to his stance that you’ve not seen outside of celebrities. His leather jacket looks warm and comfortable while remaining stylish, and the all-black underneath suits him while highlighting the lithe form. All of it is perfectly complemented by the mop of jet-black hair tucked under a knitted beanie, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of neighborhood your parents have moved to, when models are just walking around the streets.

“Uh…” You would kick yourself for sudden ineloquence if you thought you could without falling straight on your ass. The guy bites back and obvious smile, ducking his head for a moment to do so.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” He calls as he looks back up at you. “Did you move in recently?”

“No, I don’t live here.” He raises a brow and you huff. “It’s my parents’ place. I’m just doing their decorating for them.” The guy nods and starts to say something else, but he’s cut off before he can.

“Jimin-ah, what are you doing?” You look back to the garland as someone else walks up, some girl based on the quick glimpse you get while tugging on a strand that doesn’t want to untangle. You give them some semblance of privacy as the guy - Jimin - relays to her everything you’ve said so far. It only strikes you as a little odd that he’s being so detailed; she could be a jealous girlfriend, for all you know.

“Oh,” the girl says, tone as dry as the dead leaves piled in the corner of the yard, “Is this supposed to beat me somehow?”

“Yoonji,” Jimin scolds under his breath.

“Sorry,” You say, standing up to your full height. It’s a considerable distance considering you’re still on the porch roof. “But what is that supposed to mean? Is there some kind of competition I don’t know about?”

“Oh,” Yoonji repeats, surprise evident in her voice this time as she eyes you. You take the opportunity to do the same, and you’re glad the nip in the air already turned your cheeks pink because fuck.

Yoonji’s god damn gorgeous. She’s slightly taller than the average girl, even in the winter boots she’s wearing, but she wears the height well; her shoulders are straight and her chin has a natural upward tilt to it, like she’s used to looking down at people in more ways than one. She’s not dressed fancy - just thick leggings and an oversized sweater - but she looks like she belongs in a commercial or something. Her hair is similar to Jimin’s - pitch black and soft - but hers is glossier, more like a cat’s coat; her cheeks are pink from the cold, her lips are slightly parted and invite too many thoughts about if they’re as soft as they look, Even in such casual circumstances, she’s radiant, even as she says-

“That explains a lot.”

It takes a second longer than you’d like to admit for your brain to resume function, but when it does, you huff with indignation.

“Excuse me?” You hiss. “What, are my decor choices not good enough for whatever this competition is?”

“No,” Yoonji says slowly, cocking a brow, and you see red - and it isn’t the lights from the house across the street. You don’t even let her continue before you’re defending yourself.

“Well I’m sorry that not all of us can decorate like they just stepped out of...of…Better Homes And Gardens, or some shit like that. Some of us focus more on making sure we like our decorations and that they actually mean something instead of just doing things for the aesthetic .”

Yoonji mutters something under her breath but you can’t make it out; it’s lost among the breeze that kicks up and the soft sound of laughing that Jimin is trying desperately to muffle. You huff a little and return to your mission of dragging the garland up on top of the roof, a new determination filling your chest.

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be doing this?” Yoonji asks, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a brow. You freeze. You can hear Jimin’s quiet inhale, and when you look up, he’s got his lips puffed out like that meme of that guy doing the duckface. You let your hand rest on your hips and give this girl the best glare you can - which you have to admit is quite powerful when you need it to be.

Like now, when this random super hot girl is judging you for being single and also assuming you’re interested in men. The nerve of her.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” You tell her firmly. She frowns a little, and you wish the expression wasn’t so cute.

“Why not?”

You scoff. “ Because,” You tell her firmly, “Not only am I happy by myself and don’t need someone else to be complete, I happen to prefer women. You may be happy with a member of the opposite sex,” You wave at where she and Jimin stand close together and return to trying to pull up the piece of garland that’s probably stuck on something, “But I tend to lean the other way.”

Yoonji just arches a perfect brow at you, but she at least doesn’t bust out laughing like Jimin does.

“Oh man,” He says, wiping tears from his eyes as he stumbles forward, “Imagine looking at us and thinking we’re straight. Oh my god, imagine, can you believe-”

“So why don’t you have a girlfriend doing this then?” Yoonji asks. Her cheeks are a little redder, but you’re pretty sure it’s just from the cold. “Wouldn’t it be better?”

“Because I’m a strong,” You heave another string of garland up, “Independent,” heave, “Woman!” You give one last tug on the garland and it flies loose, sending you landing back on the flat of your ass atop the porch roof. It doesn’t hurt too bad other than the fact that you can see a smile playing on Yoonji’s lips and your pride has already taken a few hits.

“Well then,” Yoonji says, patting Jimin’s arm and stepping back, “We’ll stop distracting you, Miss Independent.” She and Jimin walk across the street, and you pretend not to notice the way she looks back every so often.

[Today]

“No, it needs to be taller.”

“Sweetheart if it’s any taller, it won’t fit in the house.”

You send your mother a frustrated glance and shake your head. “It will, it just needs to be the right height and shape.”

“Why can’t we just get a fake tree? They’re so much easier to move and put together, wouldn’t that be better?”

“No,” You hiss, scandalized. “Real trees are better overall for the environment, not to mention how you can’t manufacture the smell of pine trees that come with them that set the entire atmosphere. Plus this nursery uses the profits to plant more trees both here and in areas that suffer with deforestation. It’s for a good cause.”

“And that’s why we had to get here at five in the morning?” Your mother asks sarcastically.

“Yes,” You reply firmly, “Because otherwise all the good trees will be gone and we’ll be forced to choose from the leftovers.” Your mother mumbles something else under her breath, but you don’t hear it. You’re distracted because there it is. The perfect tree.

You’re two steps away from your perfect tree - tall, evenly spaced, full branches, well balanced, with the perfect shade of evergreen - when you hear her.

“It’s over here,” Yoonji’s voice echoes. “I need the perfect tree, and it’s the best one I’ve found in years.”

You ignore the way your mother lights up and shush her when she tries to call out to Yoonji. You listen closer; your nemesis is still talking, something about needing a tree for someone - which, who leaves tree shopping to the last minute? The only reason you’re here is that you got in late because of the weather - but her voice is definitely getting closer.

Panicking, you look at your tree. If Yoonji sees it, it’s definitely over. It’s perfect, there’s no way she’ll want any other, and what Yoonji wants, she gets.

The only real explanation for what happens next is that you’re running on four hours’ sleep and Yoonji tends to make you a little stupid.

“Get the other side,” You whisper to your mom. She stares at you and doesn’t move. “Hurry up, before they get here!”

Your mother watches for a few seconds as you wrap your arms around the tree, getting pricked in the face with pine needles as you do, and start to tug. It’s a heavy tree, and it’s only just started to shift when the voices get closer.

“Seriously?!” You exclaim in a harried whisper to your mom. “Not even a push?!”

“You’re trying to steal a tree,” Your mother says. “From a nursery that gives to charity. I’m not helping with that.”

“I’m gonna pay for it later!” Your mother sighs and starts pushing halfheartedly on the other side of the tree.

“Shit, no, I meant-” Your words are cut off by a grunt as you manage to catch the tree before it falls entirely. It’s heavy against your shoulder, and of course that’s when Yoonji turns the corner, followed by the broadest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. Both stop in their tracks at the sight of you.

“Hey Seokjin.” You say, faking a laugh. “How are you? Haven’t seen you this year. Business good?”

“Yeah,” He says, cocking a brow, “When people don’t try to run off with our trees.”

“Who? Me? I would never!” The tree starts digging into your shoulder and your legs tremble. “I just thought I’d load it up for you, y’know, save you the trouble.”

“Oh did you?” There’s amusement in Seokjin’s voice as he fiddles with his ring. “You know our policy, you have to pay before loading.”

You start to stammer out some bullshit about him being busy but you’re only halfway through the excuse when Yoonji says your name.

“It’s alright,” the woman says with a bored voice. “She was loading it up for me. That’s the tree I was coming to show you anyway.”

The weight finally overtakes you, and you crumble under it. You manage to twist so that nothing important is trapped under the trunk, but you get a faceful of needles for your efforts.

“Maybe you should do it, though, Jin,” Yoonji says. “It looks a little much for the poor dear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin huffs. He pulls the tree off of you with what looks like little effort, hefting it over his shoulder so the base drags the ground. “Where are you parked, Yoonji?”

“Load it onto their car,” Yoonji responds. Both you and your mother stare at her in shock. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“Oh, well isn’t that sweet of you,” Your mother coos. She points the way to Seokjin and the two head off, chatting amicably as they go.

You narrow your eyes at Yoonji where she stands, not even offering to help you up from the snow where you still lay.

“What’s wrong with it?” You ask. All she does is quirk a brow. “The tree. Why are you giving it to me? You wouldn’t unless there was something wrong with it. So what is it? Termites? Leaking too much sap? What?”

Yoonji shrugs. “You wanted it,” She says simply. Your blood boils, and she steps back like she doesn’t even notice.

“You aren’t even going to help me up?” You call as she starts to walk away.

“Good try, Miss Independent,” She calls back. “I think Jungkook’s still in the office if you need him.”

You half-scream a growl as you flop your head back into the snow. A pout forms as you watch the sky start to color with the sunrise.

You’re going to have to throw away your perfect tree.

[Two Years Ago]

It’s the day of the contest. You’re confident in your decor choices this year, even if you couldn’t get every single thing you had in mind, you decide as you wander the neighborhood to scope out the competition. Last year you went simple and got second place, and you’ve switched it up this year. All out with the best decorations possible.

You’re going to win. Losing isn’t an option, not again. Not when you were beat by her.

It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself as you turn the corner onto your parents’ street. Your decorations are as good as they can be.

Your mood sours a little when you see a figure in the yard across from yours, but the soft beanie and oversized hoodie cheer you up once you notice them.

“Yoongi!” You call with a smile. The man turns and gives you a gummy grin. “I didn’t know you were in town!”

“Yeah, we got in late last night. Kinda crashed once we did. Then someone dragged us all out to the store early this morning.” He rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“Well the house looks good. Not as good as mine, obviously,” You tease, “But good.”

“Yeah, you might win this year. Yoonji’s got some good competition.”

You sniffle a little, doing your best to contain your distaste for his twin.

The Min twins, nearly identical save for the fact that they aren’t the same gender, are easily the best and worst things about the neighborhood. Worst because of that pompous priss Yoonji, obviously.

Best because Min Yoongi is one of the sweetest people you’ve ever known even if he is a bit shy. You met him last year, when he’d carried in an obscene amount of groceries for your mother and you’d almost mistaken him for his sister. You’d made him coffee to say thanks, the two of you talked, and you’ve been friends ever since.

“No Jimin?” You ask him. He gestures vaguely to the roof, where you can see a small blue hat bopping around. “Ah. I take it you aren’t finished yet, then.”

“Do you know any other reason my sister would have my boyfriend on the roof?” You share a grin with him as you both watch a strand of lights fly off somewhere. “Apparently she needed to make some last minute adjustments. That’s why she dragged us all out to the store, to hunt down some stuff for her.”

“Oh, did you happen to see one of those big dancing snowmen? The one that plays music, you can control it all from your phone? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find one, it’s the one thing I was missing. Had to use an inflatable yeti instead.” Yoongi frowns.

“Huh, how weird. That’s what we were-”

“I got it all ready, it just needs to be plugged in.”

Yoonji strides out from the house - looking as good as ever in some plaid pants, how dare she - and stops dead when she looks up and sees you.

“What are you doing here?” She snaps, and you scoff.

“Visiting a friend,” You respond with a nod towards Yoongi. You take a glance at the phone in her hand, then up to where you can see Jimin standing up a snowman. “Did you seriously steal my idea?!”

“What? No.”

“Really. Because I distinctly remember telling Jungkook about this yesterday while I was picking up my tree and you were right beside him talking to Seokjin. I was even going to put it on the roof so everyone could watch it dance to Pentatonix covers.”

“Like I would listen when you talk,” Yoonji says. Yoongi sighs but you can barely hear it over the flood of rage.

“Y’know what? Get fucked,” You tell her as you storm out of their yard and back to your parents’ house.

“I guess you won’t be coming to the holiday party then?” She calls over the road. You send her a rather vulgar hand gesture in return that you hope your parents don’t see. By the time you get inside, the snowman is playing a Mariah Carey Christmas song and you kind of want to set it on fire.

You do not win the competition that year.

[Today]

Maybe you should have listened to your parents when they said not to drive today. Probably you should have taken the big ass truck that your father keeps in the garage specifically for when the weather is bad, because it’s got that fancy four wheel drive and traction control and all sorts of stuff meant to keep people safe in the middle of floods and monsoons and blizzards. You definitely should have remembered to charge your phone before you left the house.

Especially considering that your car isn’t great in the snow now falling gently from the sky to land on your hood, mixing with the smoke pouring out from under it.

You’re lucky you managed to drift to the side of the road and get your hazard lights on, but that’s where said luck runs out. Your phone is dead, it’s several miles back to the house, even further than that to town, and the temperature is already dropping into dangerous territory.

You’ve been sitting here for three hours, though, tucked inside the residual warmth of your car with spare blankets wrapped around you as you watched night fall. You’re not sure what else you can do. There aren’t any wild animals around here, or anything like that, but it’s definitely too dangerous to trek back to the house.

“I should’ve just walked back earlier,” You groan as you bundle the blankets closer. “At least it was warmer then. Stupid car, stupid car, stupid me , didn’t charge your stupid phone, how dumb am I.”

Your tirade against yourself continues for several minutes and includes a few very crafty curses that would make your mother gasp. You’re in the middle of another when lights shine into your mirrors, nearly blinding you.

The lights slow and come to a stop behind your car. A door shuts and you scramble to exit, ready to get on your knees and beg whoever it is to give you a ride to literally anywhere that has heat.

It takes a second too long for you recognize the shiny purple jeep and the elegant black peacoat backlit by the headlights, and by the time you do, she’s already got an angry snarl on her face.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” She demands. You shiver in response and glare at her.

“Oh, just hanging out, thought I’d take a little nap beside the road in the freezing cold, the usual y’know,” You bite back. She rolls her eyes and starts back towards her jeep. You frown, watching her, and she stops with one foot inside and her hand on the door.

“What are you waiting for?” She asks. You shrug, and she huffs. “Get in the fucking car, I’m taking you home before you turn into an icicle.” You don’t move and her frown deepens. “Fine, but if you die out here, I’m not the one that’s going to tell your parents it was because you were too stubborn to accept a ride.”

Guilt gnaws at you, and with a frustrated huff, you stomp your way over to the passenger side of her jeep and climb inside.

She’s careful as she drives, you notice. Long fingers wrapped tight around the wheel, jaw tensed so hard it could be stone, and one arm leaned against the window after she’s finished turning the heat up as high it will go.

It’s not even been five minutes when she tosses a thick, fleece-lined blanket at you. You look at her, ready to be pissed off, and she cuts you off before you can complain.

“Your teeth are chattering so loud that I can’t hear myself think. Try not to get hypothermia before we get there, okay?” You huff a disbelieving laugh but curl into the warmth of the blanket anyway. It feels almost too-warm, like when you pull clothes out of the dryer, but it’s a comfort against your freezing skin.

“Why are you even here? You aren’t heading back from town, you’re not heading to town. Do you just drive around looking for lost girls?”

“No,” She says carefully, hand tightening around the wheel. It’s all she says for a full minute before she sighs. “Your parents got worried.”

“What?! ”

“They said you went to town to pick up some salt for the sidewalk and drive, and that it had been hours, and that they hadn’t heard from you again even though you took your phone. They were scared that something had happened, so I…”

Your sarcastic response dies on your tongue when you look at her. Really look.

Her shoulders are tense and set, in a way you haven’t seen before. Her brows are creased, and the pretty lips you refuse to acknowledge are set in a thin line and turned down at the corners. There’s something fizzling in the air between the two of you, something new and unknown.

“...Were you worried about me?” You ask quietly. She shoots you a look and then laughs, a second too late with not enough amusement.

“Drink that,” She says, gesturing to a thermos. “It’s coffee, it’ll help you warm up a little.” You take the thermos, thoroughly enjoying the warmth it provides your hands, and take a sip. You don’t know why, but you’re surprised when it’s the exact way you like it. You shoot her a thoughtful look, wondering just how else she might surprise you.

The rest of the ride is quiet, only the lull of the engine and the tires. Neither of you talk much; perhaps because she’s too angry, but you’re too distracted by your own thoughts to say much.

There’s no way, right? The two of you hate each other, you have since you met. It tints all your interactions, colors every single conversation where either of you are even mentioned, it’s one of the basic facts of the universe.

So why, as Yoonji pulls into your parent’s driveway and smiles at where they stand watching from the window, do you have a feeling like maybe you’re wrong?

[One Year Ago]

“Really? Inflatables?”

You scowl and turn, already prepared. There stands Yoonji, arms crossed. The weather is fairly mild for the season, and she’s taking advantage of that. High waisted shorts, an off-the-shoulder top, lace-up boots, leather jacket, she looks like every rebellious lesbian you’ve ever dreamt about, and it only makes you hate her more.

“Yes, inflatables. Because some of us like a little fun. Besides, you stole my dancing snowman last year, and I wanted something you aren’t going to rip off.”

“I didn’t steal your-”

“Whatever,” You interrupt, not wanting to even bother to listen. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

She starts to say something else, but the slam of the front door cuts her off. You turn and grin, waving.

“Tae! C’mon, put it over here!”

Taehyung smiles and makes his way over, inflatable deer in his hands. Yoonji’s silent as he gets there and sets the animal where you direct. When he’s finished he turns to you, boxy smile and all, to make sure he’s good, and glances at Yoonji.

“Oh, you didn’t say you had a friend over,” He whines. “Now I’m being rude. Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung.”

Yoonji doesn’t answer, merely eyes with distaste the hand he’s got extended.

“Right. Well then, I’m gonna go get the fawn, alright? Be right back.” He smiles at you, and you watch as he jogs back into the house.

“I thought you only brought Namjoon with you this year.” You turn at Yoonji’s words.

“No, Tae came as well. It’s a good thing, too, because Joon is utterly useless now since he met Yoongi and Jimin. Little punks stole my best friend.” You’re only mostly kidding. You’re happy for Namjoon - he’s been somewhat lonely these days, and now he’s got not one but two handsome men vying for his affection.

It does reinforce your own loneliness, though.

“I thought you liked girls.” You look back at Yoonji and notice she’s got a small pout on her face. It’s cute.

“I do like girls.”

“Then why is Taehyung here?” The way she says his name is full of spite, and it makes you laugh.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that I had to get your permission when I want to bring my friends and loved ones up to visit my parents for the holidays.” You adjust the inflatable deer, posing it so that it looks like it’s glaring at Yoonji’s house in anger.

Taehyung comes back out before Yoonji can say anything. He’s got his jacket off now, and he does look good in the simple white shirt and the headband that makes his hair look even fluffier than usual. You just really can’t focus on anything but the inflatable fawn he’s got tucked under one arm and the matching rabbit tucked under the other.

Yoonji’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you roll your eyes.

“You need another deer,” She spits before she turns around and stomps back to her house. Taehyung shoots you a look.

“I take it that’s Yoonji, then,” He says with a laugh. You make a puking sound and he tuts at you. “You’re supposed to be nice. That is not nice.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t steal your dancing snowman, did she?”

Across the street, you can see Yoonji fuming as she stands on the porch, talking to Yoongi about something or other. They both look over and while your first instinct is to turn around like you haven’t been watching them, you resist. Instead, you give Yoongi a bright wave. He doesn’t return it but his frown lessens slightly, though that could be because Jimin stumbles, laughing, out of your parents’ house with Namjoon not far behind him.

Both of them have hearts in their eyes, and it only gets worse when they look at Yoongi.

“That’s disgusting,” Taehyung says with a wrinkle of his nose. “Eugh, they’re so couple-y and gross. Remind me not to come next year if Namjoon’s here.”

“Oh no,” You tell him with a grin as you wrap him in a hug. He’s warm and solid against you, as he always is, and you thoroughly enjoy it. “If I have to struggle, you do too.”

“Fine,” He whines dramatically. “But I’m bringing Hobi so he has to suffer, too.” You laugh and set him to work organizing the inflatable animals. There are eyes on your back the entire time, but you refuse to turn around and give Yoonji the satisfaction.

Especially once you realize that you do need another deer to make it look balanced and perfect.

[Today]

The holiday party is well underway by the time you arrive at Yoonji’s, however reluctantly you do so. Your mother and father disappear almost immediately, sucked into conversations with people they’ve known for years now; Tae and Hobi are tucked into a corner, nursing glasses of cider while they look at the rather extensive Winter Village display on the Mins mantle; Namjoon has been here for hours already, and is no doubt locked away in Yoongi’s room with the man himself, and Jimin, and you choose to believe that they’re having some philosophical discussion and not doing anything else.

You think you catch a glimpse of Jungkook amidst the people from the neighborhood, but by the time you get to where he was, there’s no sign of him, or the broad-shouldered man he’s usually with. Abandoned in the kitchen, you pour yourself some cider and spike it with a hint of rum, just to get you through the night.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” A voice says.

When you turn, you find Hwasa perched on the countertop, Chungha leaning back between her legs. Both are watching you curiously, and both look absolutely fantastic in figure-hugging dresses and tights and heeled boots. They look like they just stepped off a runway, but the look in their eyes feels more like a panther than a model.

“What boyfriend?” You ask eventually.

“Tall, great chest, soft hair,” Hwasa says. When you just stare at her, she smiles a little. “Boxy smile.”

“Oh, Tae?” You laugh a little. “He isn’t my boyfriend. I’m not even interested in him like that, he’s just my best friend.” The two women share a look and Chungha kisses her cheek before heading out of the room. Hwasa eyes you and you have the distinct feeling you’re being judged.

You thought you looked okay when you picked out the simple but nicer outfit; black sweater, maroon skirt, tall black boots. It’s classy but casual. You’re sure of it.

At least you were.

“So tell me about this thing with Yoonji,” Hwasa eventually says. You nearly choke on your cider.

“I mean...there’s not much to tell. We’ve hated each other ever since we met four years ago.”

“Oh?” Something lights up in her eyes that you don’t particularly like.

“Look, no offense to you or your girlfriend, Yoonji’s just...kinda mean for my tastes. I guess some people are into that.”

“Elaborate.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and you find yourself explaining before you can stop. You tell her nearly everything, about all the shit Yoonji’s done to you, and by the time you’re finished, she’s actually smiling.

“Like...I’m sure you love her and all, otherwise you wouldn’t be dating her, but-”

“What? ” She nearly falls off the counter, she’s laughing so hard, and when you start to help steady her, she just waves you off. “No, sweetie, I’m dating Chungha, not Yoonji.”

“I thought you were dating both of them? Did you all break up?”

“Oh my god , she wasn’t kidding,” Hwasa says breathlessly, still fighting back giggles. “Holy shit, this explains so much. Ha, oh my god, no, we never were dating Yoonji, she’s just our best friend. Like you and that Taehyung guy?”

“Oh.” You feel foolish; it makes sense, friends can be just as physically close as romantic partners. You and Taehyung are proof enough of that. “I...just assumed…”

“I know, but you’re definitely wrong. You drink more cider, stew on that, maybe rethink things from another perspective, I’ve got to tell Chungha about this, it’s too good.” Hwasa hops off the counter with ease and disappears out the door before you can ask her to explain what she means about other perspectives. You can hear giggles as they slowly drown in the chatter of the party and the soft carols playing over the speakers.

You stay in the kitchen for a while, nursing your cider and thinking. If Yoonji doesn’t have two model-hot girlfriends, then could you have been onto something in the jeep that night? You’ve hated her for so long, and assumed that she hates you in return, but if you were wrong about the girlfriends, then maybe you’re wrong about that, too.

Something enters your vision and you look up, nearly spitting out your drink as you do.

Yoonji stands in front of you, in a slinky green velvet dress that she keeps tugging the bottom of. It doesn’t look like anything she usually wears, down to the floral lace tights and the wedge heels that make her even taller than she already is, and she looks slightly uncomfortable if the burn in her cheeks is any indication.

The worst part is that she looks good. Like, good good. It suits her, even if it isn’t her usual style, and for once you can’t deny the attraction swirling within your stomach.

“What are you wearing?” She asks angrily, glaring down at your clothes like they kicked her dog - whom you have not seen tonight, which is a travesty, because you adore Holly. A cough echoes from somewhere behind the two of you, and Yoonji wrinkles her nose. “I mean...I like...your outfit.”

You quirk a brow at her and set your cider down on the counter nearby. “Really? Because it looks like you want to tear it off and then set it on fire.” Something complicated happens with her expression and a spark ignites in your mind.

“Are you sick?” She asks. Her face does something else complicated as a groan echoes from nearby, and something painful twists in your stomach. You really didn’t think you looked that bad. “I mean, after the other day. With the snow. And the cold. Are you sick?”

“Is...this your way of telling me I look ill?” You ask her. She frowns. “Because if wanted me to leave your party, all you had to do was say that, you don’t have to insult me.” You head toward the door of the kitchen and there’s a scrambling that sounds much too loud for just her friends.

So your friends are also eavesdropping. Fantastic. Now everyone knows she’s insulted you. Just what you needed tonight.

Her hand catches your wrist as you’re about to leave the kitchen. “I didn’t mean it like that,” She mumbles, not making eye contact. “I just...wanted to make sure you were feeling okay. It was really cold that night, and you were out there for a long time.”

“So, what, you suddenly care? Why? Because you don’t want to win by default or something?”

“No, because I-” She cuts herself off with a groan, and you’re glad there are so many people around, because it seems like everyone’s distracted with something else. They’re too busy to notice this absolutely disastrous conversation.

“Hey look,” Taehyung says, appearing from nowhere and pulling roughly on Yoonji’s arm until she’s standing beside you in the doorway. “Mistletoe! How random! Guess you have to kiss!”

“That’s a stupid tradition,” Yoonji spits, and you’re inclined to agree with her. “Forcing people to kiss just because of some plant? How is that okay? Besides, it’s got nothing to do with the actual myth behind it, and-” She sounds like she could go on forever, but you cut her off.

“And it’s not like we want to kiss anyway.” Her grip on your wrist slackens, and you turn to look at her. Uncertainty fills you as you look at her expression, because the only word that comes to mind is crestfallen. “Right?”

“I...I mean…” Taehyung disappears as Yoonji searches for words, and you just know he’s hanging out somewhere nearby to watch it all happen.

“Because we’re nemeses.” You say slowly. “We hate each other.”

“Do we?” Yoonji asks quietly, threading her fingers through yours. “Do you?”

“Don’t you? ” You ask her. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me since we met. You’ve insulted me, and stolen my decorating ideas, and-”

“No,” She says quickly. “No, I never meant any of it like that, you just never gave me a chance to explain. You’re...you’re so pretty, and I always get flustered around pretty people, and I say the wrong things.”

“You told me I wasn’t as good if I didn’t have a significant other the first time we met.”

“I was trying to figure out if you were interested in women, and when you said you were, I just...panicked, because I figured you had someone, because you’re…” She gives a wave to your general being.

“You stole my dancing snowman.”

“I did not! I heard someone talking about a dancing snowman at the tree nursery, and I didn’t realize it was you, and I thought, since I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I’d get a dancing snowman that would play this cheesy playlist thing I made for you. I didn’t know you were looking for it, and I didn’t steal your idea. Not on purpose, anyway.”

“Okay, well...last year you were so rude! And you said you wouldn’t listen when I talked!”

“I thought…” She trails off, looking ashamed. “I thought you were dating Taehyung, and I got jealous. But the listening comment wasn’t like that! It’s because I always zone out because I like to listen to you talk, because your voice is so pretty, but I never hear what you actually say, and also you just...are really pretty. So I get distracted.”

“I…” You’re rather speechless; your entire world has shifted on its axis. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never.” Yoonji insists. “I just don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“You hang out with Hwasa. And Chungha.”

“Yeah, and?” Her brows furrow. “What’s your point?” If you could, you would keysmash at her, but as it stands, you just gape.

“Uh, they’re literally model gorgeous?”

“Oh, are they?” She looks down at where your fingers are still entwined with hers. “I hadn’t noticed.”

You blink at her, and she looks up at you. There’s a faint smile playing on her lips, and something bright in her eyes that you haven’t seen before.

“I’m sorry,” You say, shaking your head. “I just still don’t-”

“Will you shut up?” Yoonji asks, free hand coming to gently glide across your cheek. “And let me kiss you?” Your jaw shuts with a snap and you nod.

Her lips are soft against your own, and your breath catches in your throat as you return the kiss. Her hand moves to grip your jaw, tilting your head ever so slightly so the two of you fit together that little bit better, and your hands come to rest on her hips.

Electricity sparks through you to her. She pulls back just a little and you’re distracted by the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“This might be moving a little fast, since we hated each other an hour ago-”

“You hated me an hour ago,” She corrects.

“But I would be very, very happy taking this to a more private area so I can express to you just how apologetic I am that I thought you hated me.” You tear your gaze from her lips to look at her face. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown out at the mere thought.

“Upstairs,” She growls, already pushing you in the direction of the staircase. You’re both speeding through the crowd of people as fast as you can without being obvious, and you have to help her every few feet because she’s wobbly in her heels, but by the time you make it up the stairs and into her room, you’re both desperate.

Her mouth meets yours with a fire behind it that you’ve never felt before, and you hardly even get the door closed before she pushes you back against it. Your tongue darts along the seam of her lips and she grants you entrance, and you could moan at just the taste of her if you were just a little weaker.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” She whispers, moving to nip at your neck. Her hands are under your sweater and you don’t even remember them getting there, but you can’t complain as they move to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples through your bra. “Can you even imagine how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you? Tasting you? Hearing you moan?”

She bites, hard and rough, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. How she possibly knows that you like that is something you don’t have the energy to ponder, nor the will to question.

“Please,” You breathe, hands tangling in her hair as she sucks a mark into the skin of your throat. She’s slotted between your thighs and your hips are rutting against hers ever so slightly, desperate for some friction. You know you’ve already soaked through your panties, which is a feat considering all she’s done is play with your nipples a little and kiss you like you’ve never been kissed.

“What is it, angel?” Her voice is deeper than usual, roughened by the desire coursing through your veins and hers, and it only makes you wetter. “What would you like me to do?”

“Anything,” You plead. “Please, just touch me.”

“Anything?” Yoonji mutters. She chuckles, low and raspy and so unbearably attractive that you want to scream. You almost do scream, from frustration, when she pulls her hands away from your nipples, but she drops to her knees and you forgive her.

Yoonji kisses up your thighs, from the edge of your boots all the way to where the hem of your skirt hits mid-thigh, and her hands are warm as they slide underneath. She doesn’t stop kissing you, not even as she lifts the fabric of your skirt and nips at the crease where your thighs meet your hips. Still, she’s so far away from where you need her, that you can’t help your whine.

“Patience, angel,” She whispers as she glides one finger along your fabric-covered lips. Your hips rut forward on instinct, and she laughs a little.

“You stole my dancing snowman, you could at least be quick about this,” You mutter.

“What’s the fun in being rushed?” She leans forward to mouth at your pussy through your underwear and your legs tremble slightly. She’s gentle as her hands slide your underwear down to pool around your ankles, and even more gentle as they glide back up to rest on your thighs. “But I’ll be nice this time. Besides, I’ve been dreaming of what this pussy tastes like for years.”

Anything else you might say to her is cut off with a moan as her tongue starts to tease at your clit. One of your hands comes to rest on the back of her hair before you even realize you’ve moved, and she takes that as all the encouragement she needs.

Yoonji eats pussy like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have, and you’re in absolute awe. The way her tongue moves against you is absolute bliss, no matter where it is; she teases at your entrance, sliding the very tip of her tongue inside to gather your wetness before she runs the flat of it up to your clit, where she circles and sucks mercilessly before moving back down to thrust it in and out and in and out relentlessly. She coaxes an orgasm out of you faster than anyone else ever has, and even as your writhing against the door with her head under your skirt, she doesn’t stop.

Instead, she slides one long finger inside of you and keeps it there. She doesn’t move it, doesn’t even allow it to twitch, but it’s there and you can feel it as she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks, making your clench around her. She moans into your pussy, too, the entire time she’s at work between your legs, and it only turns you on more when you glance down to see her hand between her legs.

“Yoonji, please, I want, please, I wanna taste you too, please,” You beg, tugging gently on her hair until she pulls back. Her chin is covered in your cum and the sight is so unbelievably unerotic that you could probably come just from that.

“Take this off,” She growls, pulling on your skirt as she stands. You do as she says without hesitation, more than willing to get naked if it means getting your mouth on her, and by the time your boots are in the corner with the rest of your clothes, she’s just as naked as you are.

And god, she’s beautiful.

Your lips meet hers again as you push her towards the bed, and you can taste yourself on her tongue as it slides against yours. The two of you tumble onto the mattress and you situate yourself between her thighs. It isn’t until you’ve got her legs spread wide and your licking and sucking at her nipples that you register that her face is flushed with something new.

“What is it?” You ask, panting, as you detach from her - beautiful, wonderful, adorable, perfect - tits. “Do you not want me to? I don’t have to, I just would really like to, it’s up to you.”

“No, it’s not that, I’ve just never…” She trails off, looking embarrassed, and realization smacks you in the face.

“No one has ever gone down on you before?” You ask in disbelief. She shakes her head.

“I’ve always been the one to do so, all the other girls have been kind of...well. I’m usually the dominant one, so…”

“Yoonji, sweetheart,” You say seriously, pressing a kiss to her cheek with each word. “Will you allow to me to eat you out? Because seriously, those other girls are trash, and I would absolutely cherish the experience if it’s something you want.”

Her face turns even more pink and she nods. You press a quick kiss to her lips and gently spread her thighs so you have better access. You mimic her actions from earlier, pressing kisses to her thighs and the crease of her hips. When you finally get a taste of her, you moan.

She tastes like absolute fucking bliss, you decide as you glide your tongue through her folds. You could live off of nothing but the taste for her until the end of time itself, and the way she moves is amazing. Little jerks and thrusts, and her fingers tangle in your hair to push you closer even as her hips pull away slightly.

Your tongue rubs circles around her clit, flicking and licking and coaxing her closer and closer to her high. You dip down to fuck your tongue into her for a second or two, and the way her back arches is art in motion. You reach one hand up to tweak one of her nipples while your other arm remains wrapped around her hip like a steel bar, keeping her in place even as she grinds against your mouth.

You remember how it felt earlier when she wrapped her lips around your clit, so you mimic the action. Her bud fits perfectly between your lips, and when you suck on it, she tenses. Everything stops for a second, and you’re afraid maybe you ruined it, but then her whole body jerks, and she presses you hard against her. You lap up her essence as it comes, eager and more than willing, and when she finally stops spasming, you pull yourself away with a grin.

“Holy shit,” She mutters, and you laugh.

“I can’t believe no one’s ever eaten you out before,” You sigh, one hand sliding along her waist to massage her breasts. “Does that mean no one’s ever fucked you before either?”

“I mean…” You stop, staring at her with wide eyes. “I told you, I’m usually the dominant one, so most people don’t really...return the favor.”

“Can I please fuck you?” You ask in a rush. “Please, I promise I’ll be gentle.” She huffs a little, and you think it’s amused but you can’t be sure, because she’s spreading her legs again and your focus is elsewhere.

“Yeah, angel, you can fuck me.”

You lower yourself to kiss her, lingering and deep, and you don’t miss the moan she gives as she tastes herself on your tongue. You wait until she’s thoroughly distracted by the way your mouths move, then glide your fingers over her.

Her clit is still sensitive, based on the way she jumps as you ghost your fingers over it, so you avoid that. You don’t want to overwhelm her. She groans as you slide a single single finger inside her, and you moan.

Her walls are softer than the velvet of her dress, and warm around you. She’s tight, too, so incredibly tight that you aren’t sure you’ll be able to fit another inside her. She moans as you slide your finger out and then back in, gathering more of her wetness as you do.

You’re careful as you fuck her, gentle and slow, and you think you could get addicted to it. Her hips move in time with your hand, gaining speed as you do. “Fuck, angel, it’s so good,” She whimpers. You smile.

“Let me know if it gets too much, okay?” She nods, and you start to slide a second finger in. Yoonji winces, just a little, so you slow until her hips rock against your hand.

“More,” She breathes. “Please, more.”

“As you wish,” You tell her. You still are gentle as you thrust into her, feeling her walls contract around you. It’s heaven, absolute perfection, and you tell her so as she grips onto the sheets.

You latch your mouth onto her nipple as you continue fucking her, biting and sucking as your fingers curl.

“I need, ah, please, I need more, I need, holy fuck, to come, I need to come,” She moans desperately. You grin and curl your fingers more, sliding them against her walls. You finally find what you’re looking for, that small spongey spot that has her convulsing around you.

“That’s right, baby,” You coo, “Come on, I know you want to.”

Her hands are in a death grip on your shoulders, and they only get tighter as you press harder against that spot inside her. She comes with a cry that you muffle with your own mouth, her body shaking as she lets go.

You slide your fingers out when she’s relaxed a little more, licking the taste of her off as she pants.

“Holy shit,” She breathes. You grin, peppering kisses along her stomach, up her chest, along her throat and over her cheeks. “Can we do that every day?”

“I dunno,” You tease. “Are you going to steal my dancing snowman again?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves at your shoulder, and you laugh.

“I’m just saying, you’re supposed to be nice to the people you like.”

“I’m bad at that, though,” She mutters. “I always just...say the wrong thing. I’m more of a do-er.”

“I’m still caught up on how I was supposed to know you liked me based on the things you did.”

“Really?” She huffs, glaring at you playfully. “I went tree shopping at five in the morning for you.”

“Yeah,” You say softly, grinning. “You did.”

25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Christmas Anthology

858 notes · View notes

skinks · 5 years ago

Note

I would just like to say Bongo Smugglers killed me. I’m sitting in class giggling thinking about a Losers movie night where they have a dramatic showing of the movie. Audra and Richie are less embarrassed then they should be. It becomes an annual tradition to play a bongo smugglers™️ drinking game at Christmas.

AHH this is amazing, I just shoved two words together that I thought were funny and suddenly it’s this whole ugly 2002 sex comedy fully formed in my head. Glad it killed you during class. And yeah, they’re definitely not embarrassed, everyone’s heckling the writing and the early 2000s fashion more than anything else anyway.

Richie happily provides commentary the whole way through even though he’s only in the sex scene, waving his tortilla chip in Eddie’s face because he’s got his arm around his shoulder, hugging him close into Richie’s side. Eddie keeps snapping bites at it so often that Richie just ends up hand feeding him chips.

“Aaaaaaand... that’s the first time I touched a boob, right there!“

“Glad to help,” Audra winks.

“The exact moment I realized I was totally lying to myself. I’m having an entire existential sexuality crisis right there on camera, but can you tell? Does my fratty façade crack an inch?”

“I could tell, because you spent fifteen minutes before the scene pacing around set and chanting you can do this, you can do this, don’t throw up, you like girls, but not too much, because you don’t get paid if you pop a boner, c’mon Richard, c’mon—”

“Like I said,” Richie shouts, over all his stupid friends laughing at him, “no one can tell, ‘cus I’m a pro—”

“You call yourself Richard during pep talks?” Stan’s grinning at him sharp-beaked, like a vulture. Has Richie seen him blink even once since he came back from the dead? Not sure, not sure, make note to ask Patty to spy.

Onscreen Audra is shimmying down her low-rise stone-wash boot-cut jeans, boots with the fur, the whole club was in fact lookin’ at her. What the fuck was anyone thinking back then? Richie privately blames the Bush administration, and continues.

“You’re a great scene partner, Audra-my-deah, and I respect you for cougaring not one but two of our little balding Brady Bunch here, but you were kinda the reason I figured out I’m gay. Like, big time gay. Well, the second reason.” He rubs tortilla-salt fingers through Eddie’s hair and feels his stomach go fuzzy when Eddie kinda thrums out a low noise against him. Oh, he’s purring. Some deep down part of Richie’s caveman psyche, lodged right in the hungry reptilian nub of his central brain wants to bear-hug Eddie to a pulp, wants to Lenny him like a mouse until they both stop breathing at the same exact moment from the pressure.

Yeesh, dark!

He smooches one of Eddie’s Easter Island eyebrows instead, keeps his lips mushed there. Smooches again. “Biiiiiiig time.”

“My wife,” Bill whips around from his seat on the floor at Richie’s feet, cheeks bulging with wontons, “my wife did not cougar me.”

Eddie shushes him. Everyone else is exchanging Looks, including Audra, because she totally did cougar Bill. Good for her!

“My wife,” Richie mimics, all sing-song and bugling. “Who the fuck are you, Borat?” Eddie snorts, hard. “Turn around and watch me make sweet love to ya woman, Bill.”

Onscreen Richie is struggling out of a giant hockey jersey at the sight of Onscreen Audra’s nubile charms. Everything is lit terribly, to a Smash Mouth deep cut.

“Oh man, check out that figure.” Richie whistles at himself, twenty-six years old with muscles like long ropes. “These were the pre-gut days. Even though my diet was just Adderall and instant ramen.”

“I like your gut,” Eddie murmurs, squidging at it with the hand not shoved up the back of Richie’s shirt. He’s already looking pretty tipsy, because he told everyone loudly and at length that he’d have to be what he deemed, shithouse drunk, to cope with whatever 90 minute dick jokeathon he was about to endure for the sake of two minutes of Richie-ass. “You’re hotter than him.”

Richie preens. “I am him, dude.”

Eddie’s hand lands clumsy on his cheek, pulling Richie’s attention away from his own foregrounded bare ass and Onscreen Audra’s shocked expression, to face him. Eddie’s all unfocused, flushed in the cheeks. “You’re both hot. Him and you, I’d fuck you both. I’d let both of you fuck me at once.”

“Um,” says Ben. Mike keeps slorping up noodles, but his eyes are saucering at Bill’s giant TV.

“Hhohkaaay,” Richie breathes.

“Is this when you saw it, Audra?” Bev asks. She waggles her eyebrows at them from the muscular nook of Ben’s arms. “The famous Tower of Tozier? You mentioned in the group chat.”

“What group chat,” Richie croaks, wrenching his eyes from the sight of Eddie’s slick tongue pulsing gently against his lower lip, hanging open like he wants Richie to see inside his mouth. Yowza-yowza-yowza, this is so much better than movie-nights back in the 90s. “I never saw anything about that? And I monitor you all on WhatsApp twenty-four-sevs. I literally have nothing better to do while Eddie’s working.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Beverly dismisses him with a flick of her wrist.

Audra is nodding vigorously while Onscreen Audra tilts her head comically far to the right. “That’s when I saw it,” she says. “They couldn’t find a modesty sock that fit you, Richie, remember? I didn’t have to fake that reaction. And that’s with them blasting the A/C on high so my nips would poke through my shirt.” She nudges Eddie’s shin gently and stage-whispers, “Well done.”

Eddie growls hot miso breath into Richie’s neck. Snarls, really. That’s the only word for it. Richie’s not embarrassed—he’s been telling people about his donkey schlong for years, not his fault nobody ever believes him. It’s a boy who cried wolf situation, perhaps, if the boy was actually telling the truth every time and just wanted to brag to everyone about seeing a really big, thick wolf.

“Honey,” Bill says, visibly distressed, “this is already weird enough for me, please don’t say nips.”

“Nips, nips, nips.” Audra tickles into Bill’s ribs, and Richie joins in the chant, they all do. It’s a hailstorm of sesame toast raining on Big Bill’s protesting head. “Stiff nips! Stiff nips!”

“Shut up, I’m, uh’wanna see Rich fuck!” Eddie roars, wrestling the couch cushions for the remote and stabbing the volume obscenely loud.

Moans fill the air. Rice sprays from Mike’s mouth, between his hasty fingers. Patty is laughing so hard into Stan’s shoulder Richie would be kinda worried about her, if he wasn’t so distracted by the way Eddie’s leaning forward, hand on Richie’s thigh and eyes locked to Onscreen Richie’s bare bucking hips. He remembers this part horrible and clear, preserved behind glass in his mind like the embarrassing ninth grade school photo his mom still won’t remove from the mantelpiece. Braces like train tracks and his eyes squinted up small and moleish because his mom said she wanted to see his handsome face without his glasses for once. Eddie laughed at it for five whole minutes the first time Richie brought him up to visit mom and dad as his—as his, at last, before snapping a careful picture of the photo with his phone and muttering, so cute.

It’s the noises.

“This was the day I learned women really can, uh, fake orgasms,” Richie says. He coughs. Eddie’s fingers tighten on his thigh and he looks back at Richie over his shoulder, eyes all drunk and dark and dilated like a shark’s to the backdrop of Onscreen Richie and Audra’s plastic din. Richie’s head thumps dizzily, sliding his hand secret under Eddie’s shirt to the damp small of his back, watching his neck go pink. This, now this is familiar from 90s movie nights, how sweaty they’d get, tangled together like pocketed earbuds the longer the VHS spun. Always on the same couch by unspoken agreement, kicking and left to do so by the others, like the clubhouse hammock flirting was more RichieandEddie status quo than behaviour tethered to any one location. Feeling your heartbeat in your ears and everywhere your limbs are shoved between another sapling boy-body, and the couch.

Richie can see exactly what Eddie’s thinking, in that darkness. That’s not how you sound in bed with me.

“This is revolting,” says Stan, mildly, but Richie holds up his hand like a stop sign, pulled roughly back to the present.

“Wait, wait, here comes my line!”

“Thought you said it was a non-speaking—”

The camera cuts from Onscreen Audra’s bouncing breasts to Onscreen Richie’s slack-jawed face, his ill-conceived soul patch. He was asked to remove his glasses for the scene, he remembers, and was glad of it, feeling useless and young and stupid and exposed enough already just by virtue of needing the money, he didn’t need to see this perfectly nice and reasonable actress pity him for not even knowing how to pretend at being with a woman. Onscreen Richie tilts his chin up, and Bill’s entire rec room holds its breath. There will be bruises on Richie’s thigh tomorrow.

A grunt, a groan. An unsubtle trumpet fanfare musical cue on the soundtrack, but hey, neither of them ever claimed Bongo Smugglers was a masterpiece. “¡Ay, chihuahua!”

Richie throws his arms up in triumph. “All my own improv, folks! And they kept it in the final cut!”

Eruption. He’s pelted with howls of disgust and prawn crackers. Eddie grabs one of his arms and just shakes him, ragdolls Richie’s laughing body around until he tips over and sprawls into Eddie’s lap, shielded from assault. Eddie chews his insistent teeth into Richie’s shoulder, and finally, the scene ends with Onscreen Richie leaping a naked escape from Onscreen Audra’s balcony.

“Worst,” Eddie mumbles against Richie’s nape. “Worst thing’ve ever seening m’life.”

He’s so drunk, sweet thing. Richie sits back up, still wheezing. He rests his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder and gazes starrily up at his plastered little face. Steel-cut jaw softened with laughter and stubble, un-gelled hair curling around like a chestnut lamb’s. “Worst ever-ever?”

“No,” Eddie says plainly, and that’s true, “but it’s up there. Woulda rented the shit out of this at Blockbuster.”

Richie flings his leg over Eddie’s knees, kicking Bill in the process. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, gathering up all Richie’s loose ends in a big circling cuddle. “Every week. Woulda worn it out. Broke the disc.”

“Got your ‘Lil ‘Busters membership card revoked for being a creep.”

“Worth it.”

“Aw, Eddie-baby.”

“Would you two stop, you’re making the rest of us look bad,” Bev says, smiling fondly. The movie’s moved on, and none of them are really paying attention now that the main event’s over, but everyone’s still coming down, dismounting from belly-laughter and landing ankle-deep in giggles. “That was inspired.”

“He made me laugh so hard on that take,” Audra sighs, leaning against Bill. “I remember thinking, shame he’s a closet-case. I always knew you were a good guy under all that fake stand-up.” She rolls her head back on her neck to look at Richie, upside down. “D’you remember right after, too?”

“Ah,” says Richie, tensing up. Eddie must feel it, because he makes a lowing noise of concern and turns the volume down.

“What you did to those guys?”

“Ahaha, uh.” Richie struggles to sit upright with hot embarrassment tugging at his stomach. “They don’t need to—Audra, it’s not, anyone would’ve done the same—”

“No, actually, you were the only one who ever did,” Audra says, sharp-eyed, and Richie remembers that too. How much surer and in control of herself she was than him, even back then, when they were both just simple bottom-feeders on L.A.’s sludgy floor.

“What happened?” Patty asks. They’re all looking. Richie stares at the wall beside the TV’s garish over-saturation, scratches at the back of his neck, until Eddie takes his hand softly back to hold in his.

“I was pretty much always the only woman on set,” Audra explains. “Par for the course on a movie like that, it was whatever. It’s nothing like real sex, obviously, you have to stop and wait for lighting changes, new set-ups and stuff, you’re surrounded by crew. But you’re the only ones naked, and pretending to fuck, right? It can be a little.” She pulls a face, tilts her palm back and forth. “Degrading.”

Richie snorts, humorlessly.

“Anyway, that scene wrapped and they called cut, and a few of the guys in the crew said some stuff. About me. The director ignored it, the producer ignored it. I was used to it,” Audra says. Richie can see the edge of Bill’s jaw clench and re-clench like a fist as he watches his wife speak. Audra smiles widely, then, and jerks a thumb at Richie. “But this guy?”

They’re grinning, they’re all grinning, because they know him. Richie squirms under it. He can feel blood pounding behind his ears, across the surface of his scalp in pulsing waves of embarrassed heat, because it’s one thing to spend your life running your big fat Trashmouth to distract the bullies’ attention onto you, but it’s another for people to treat you like some kinda hero for it. Like it’s not just something friends do.

Bev’s eyes go all emerald-shiny with delight, like the quarry in sunlight. She covers her mouth. “Oh, Richie.”

“Knocked the first one out cold,” Audra crows. “You tried your best after that. It was three against one and he had a black eye before the rest of us could separate them, but he had the element of surprise at first. I mean, he flew at them, if you can imagine it—you’re what, six-one, six-two?”

Eddie’s trembling ever-so-slightly against him. Richie screws his eyes shut. “Six-two.”

“No wonder the asshole shit himself, you came at him all six-foot-two naked inches, pissed as hell, with a massive—”

“Alright!” Richie yelps, because if there’s anything more embarrassing than his brief Bongo Smugglers cameo, it’s the fact that he left set that day with a black eye and no money. Who cares. His closest friends are alive and they’re cheering, and Eddie is shoving himself into Richie’s lap just like it’s movie night in 1991 but with 100% more enthusiastic frenching, seating his drunk ass in Richie’s startled hands and hissing god, you’re such a crazy dumbass, I love you so much, Richie, even back then with that soul-patch I’d have loved you so much, god, sexy, Rich, wanna see you with a black eye, can I give you one, can you give me one, Richie, I’m gonna fuck you so good for this later, ay chihuahua—!

#long post #once again i did not mean to write over 2k about fake sex comedy Bongo Smugglers (2002) when i started answering this message #reddie #ficlet #bongo smugglers

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richietoaster · 5 years ago

Text

We’re Just Stardust In The Night

part two of the series “I Think About You A Lot”

can be read as a standalone!! but here is the previous part

wordcount: 2,660

playlist

read here on AO3

THANK YOU @s-s-georgie FOR BETAING

if you dont mind reading unformatted, you can continue below

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

It was peaceful, the sleep that Richie was sound in. That is until a foot kicks at his face and knocks his glasses off his face; he almost loses his balance and falls out of the hammock he’s sharing with his boyfriend.

Richie scowls at Eddie and picks his glasses up from the floor. “One day I’m gonna really get you back.”

“Is that a promise?”

Richie adjusts the frames back onto his face. “No, it’s a threat.”

“Ominous.” Eddie pushes himself up on the hammock and leans over to steal the glasses from Richie’s face.

“Hey!”

“Maybe I was removing them for a reason, dumbass.” There’s a glint in Eddie’s eyes as he angles his head and bends down to kiss Richie. And that.. That’s just something neither of them will ever get used to. How can anyone go this long without kissing the love of their life? Their fucking soulmate? God, Eddie would never tell Richie that- it’d go straight to his head. Eddie clutches the frames in his hand, and uses the other to slide it up Richie’s neck, his thumb resting underneath of his jaw. Eddie opens his mouth slowly, taking the lead, and feels the warmth of Richie’s tongue dip in, and he thinks this must be what paradise is.

The second that Richie turns his head to kiss Eddie deeper is when he hears the door to the clubhouse open, and there’s two of their friends jumping down. Richie tosses his boyfriend off of his lap out of reflex and immediately apologizes when Eddie starts groaning.

“Shit, sorry Eds-”

“What are you losers up to, huh?” Richie can hear Bev’s smirk.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You know,” Stan starts, “You guys don’t have to hide the fact that you’re kissing- we all know that you fuck.”

“We do not,” Eddie corrects, and it makes Richie’s face drop slightly. It’s true- they haven’t slept together. They’ve only been dating for a whole three weeks. He guesses that some people are comfortable with doing it early in a relationship- and not that he wouldn’t have an issue fucking Eddie; it’s Eddie and sex. Richie knows that he’ll be head-empty-no-thoughts once they start getting sexual. It’s just he doesn’t know if Eddie would be up to it, based on his reaction just there. Hell, even his reactions previously. The other losers tease them for not having sex. They’re all surprised because: ‘Really? You guys haven’t slept together? Shit, Rich. Shocked you haven’t jumped his bones yet!’ And- that’s not really fair. Richie’s been wanting to fuck Eddie since his voice dropped.

Richie reaches down to help lift Eddie to his feet. “Leave it, you guys. Eddie doesn’t like talking about our sex life. It’s because he’s shy.” He presses multiple quick kisses to Eddie’s hand.

“No,” Eddie flicks Richie’s nose, “It’s because we don’t have one.” The ‘yet’ lingers in the air.

“No,” Richie mocks, “It’s because you don’t wanna let everyone know that all those things I’ve said about my dick is true.” He pulls Eddie closer, playfully yet suggestively.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.”

Bev laughs at them, “Has anything even changed for you guys? You still bicker like an old married couple.”

Richie and Eddie look at each other and shrug, saying simultaneously, “We kiss.” Richie adds on, “and a lot.” He thinks it’s nice being in a relationship with his best friend. Because nothing really had to change at all, just like Bev said. And it shouldn’t have to, honestly. They just added to it- kissing.

“Okay, yeah, spare me the details,” Stan pretends to gag.

“You're just jealous that you don’t have your own Spaghetti.”

“No, I’m good, actually, thanks.”

“And what is wrong with my Spaghetti, huh?”

Stan leans over the bean bag he’s sitting on to grab a stray pillow on the floor and chucks it at Richie.

“Hey!” Richie squawks. “You know what? I’m taking a nap. Wake me up when Eddie’s mom realizes she wants to hit it and quit it with me.” He turns over in the hammock, rustling Eddie.

“I thought you would quit those,” Eddie says, but there’s no serious tone to his voice. He knows that’s just Richie’s humor.

“Fine. I’ll change it up a bit: Wake me up when your dad wants to hit it and-”

“-My dad’s fucking dead, you asshole.” Eddie barks out a laugh.

“Can we stay down here and get drunk tonight?”

“No, I have to be in a good present state tomorrow for school. Handing in the last few slips of shit for graduation.”

“Hm. Seems a good enough reason to get drunk.” Richie huffs. He and Eddie have talked about this multiple times, he knows. It’s just he can’t shake the thought away. Sometimes it just sticks too long in his mind and he needs reassurance, which Eddie is more than happy to give.

Eddie slots himself against Richie like he was before their friends made an appearance.

“Hey,” he whispers, “are you good? I know what you’re thinking.”

“You do? That’s kinda hot.”

Eddie taps at Richie’s chest. “It’s okay to be worried, you know. It’s healthy to be worried. I just want to make sure that your head is in a good place, though.”

“M’fine. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” Richie rakes back Eddie’s hair, stopping at the base of his neck to pull him up in an open mouthed kiss. Eddie grasps Richie’s chin to get a better angle and tilts his head.

“If y’all are gonna fuck can I please record it?” Bev asks, not looking up from her phone.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Stop interrupting us.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be making out in a public place.”

“This is literally our private clubhouse, Stan.” Eddie says.

“Seven people use it and come and go as we please.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m trying to do but you’re here.” Richie says. Nobody can tell if he’s joking or not.

“If I ever fucking find out y’all end up banging in that hammock, so help me God.”

“I thought jewish people don’t have a God.”

Richie braces himself and Eddie, who’s still laying on top of him, from another incoming pillow that Stan throws.

“You’re so stupid.”

----

A few days later, Eddie’s in Richie’s room, laying on the bed that’s shoved in the corner, unmade. His head hangs off the edge as he impatiently waits for Richie to come back into the room. They got their graduation caps and gowns and Eddie insisted on having Richie try it on for him.

“If you don’t hurry up we’ll miss graduation at this rate. Come on, Rich.”

There’s ruffling from the bathroom and Richie pokes his head out. “I feel weird.”

“Why do you feel weird?”

“Because graduation. It’s like a bittersweet taste in my mouth.” Richie steps out and trudges back to where Eddie is. “Feel like I gotta brush my teeth every time I talk about it.”

Eddie flips his body and sits upright, reaching out to clutch the gown between his fingers, pulling Richie closer to him. “You look cute.”

“No, you.”

“You can’t use the Uno reverse card in verbal conversations.”

“Says who?” Richie challenges.

“Me,” Eddie smooths out the deep red robe. He plays with the Honor cords around Richie’s neck. “You’re gonna nail your speech, you know.”

Richie slumps, “I’m scared shitless.”

“Why don’t you practice it and read it to me?”

“No can do, Spaghettio.” Richie shakes his head. “It’s a surprise.”

“Am I in it?”

Richie shrugs, smirking, and unzips the robe, hanging it back up in his closet. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“That’s not fair.” Eddie pouts and flings himself backwards to lay on the bed, toying with the sheets.

Richie jumps up next to Eddie and cozies into his side, draping an arm around his torso. “It’s totally fair, you’re just impatient.”

“Maybe so,” Eddie hums. He looks down at Richie, who’s already looking up at him. They meet in the middle to kiss slowly. “Hmm.”

“What?” Richie asks, lips dragging over Eddie’s as he speaks. “You good?”

“Very,” Eddie responds and pushes the hair out of Richie’s face.

And it’s moments like this where Richie wants to tell Eddie that he loves him. He supposes that Eddie might have a strong inkling about it, or maybe already knows, but Richie’s never actually said it outloud. Yet, he says a lot of things that sound a lot like i love you, like, when Richie drives away from Eddie’s house after dropping him off, ‘i’ll text you when i’m home,’ or when Eddie does something funny and Richie says, ‘you’re so stupid,’ with a huge ass grin. It’s in the little things, as cheesy as it sounds.

“Tell me.” Richie says after a minute.

“Mm?”

Richie watches Eddie, sees how his eyes are closed and smiles. “Would you be mad if I just stole you away for the whole summer? Just you and me? Like as much as I love our friends.. I kinda rather just be with you.”

Eddie peaks an eye open, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it with that logic,” and looks down at his lips, nudging Richie with his nose. Richie gets the hint and begins to push himself up from the mattress. Before they can kiss again, the door is opening and Maggie Tozier’s voice fills the air.

“Hey, Eddie you should call your mom and- oh.”

“Shit,” Richie curses and pushes himself away from Eddie, but there’s not much room for him to work with seeing as they’re on his bed.

That’s another thing- only their friends know, well, until now. Maggie totally knows.

“Could you..” Richie chokes on his words, “knock next time? Please?”

Maggie gives him a look that definitely says ‘we have to talk about this later’, but she nods, “Yeah, I- sorry.. I was just gonna say that Eddie should call his mom if he wants to stay for dinner..” She pauses and looks between the two. Maggie doesn’t know who’s more red: them or her. “I’ll just..” She points behind her and slowly backs out of Richie’s room, closing the door.

“Holy fuck.” Eddie turns to Richie. “Is she gonna tell my mom? Because I-”

“-No, Eds. She’s cool.. She won’t tell your mom.”

“Jesus- and- what is she gonna say to you? Is she gonna yell?”

“Eddie.. She knows I’m gay. She just.. didn’t know that I’m with you.” Richie shrugs, “I don’t think she’s gonna care, but she, uh, might not let us keep the door closed anymore..” He trails off.

“Why would she not-” Richie sees the moment Eddie gets it. “But we’re not.. We’re not having sex.”

“She doesn’t know that. She just walked in on us with me practically on top of you, looking like we were kissing. Which was actually accurate, so.”

“Can’t you tell her that we aren’t?”

Richie laughs, “You think she’s gonna believe that her son and boyfriend aren’t fucking? I mean.. It’s gonna happen eventually, so I mean-” He stops himself. “I-I mean it doesn’t have to, of course..”

Eddie relaxes and reaches for Richie’s hand. “Yes, it will. I just don’t want either of us to feel pressured just because others think we should or already think that we are. I want it to be natural. That’s for us to know- nobody else.”

“Like a secret?”

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Sure. But I’m sure our friends will catch wind of it eventually.”

“So,” Richie changes the subject, “Are you staying for dinner? Maybe even the night?”

“I’ll stay for dinner, but not the night. I don’t want your mother to have a heart attack. Plus I don’t think I’d be able to handle it if she made me sleep on the couch or something. I’ve been sleeping next to you years even before this, don’t think I could without you anymore.”

“Alright then,” Richie decides, “Then I’ll sneak over to your house tonight.”

“My mom would not let you in.”

“You have a window,” Richie tells him. “That I’ve used plenty of times.”

“Okay smartass.” Eddie rolls his eyes, grinning.

Richie kisses his temple and noses along his face. “Once we’re in California we could get our own apartment and then I won’t have to worry about sneaking over.”

“You’d want that?”

“Eds, I’ve wanted everything with you for a long time now.”

Eddie turns his head and slots his lips against Richie’s, kissing him hard, knocking them both over. “You’re amazing.”

Richie thinks that kind of sounds like ‘i love you.’

---------

“Mom, I want to talk to you, um, about what you saw earlier..”

It’s been two hours since Eddie left, and Maggie’s getting ready for bed. She looks at him with an amused expression. “I’m not mad, Rich. I’m not upset or angry either. I’m proud of you.”

Richie’s a little taken back by her statement, because that’s a lot to take in. “You’re.. You’re proud of me? For what? You walked in on me and Eddie seconds away from kissing and you’re proud?”

Maggie shakes her head, “No, Richie. I’m proud of you for finding someone who makes you happy. And you deserve that, honey. I know that living here hasn’t always been the most accepting, even in this day-and-age.” Richie looks like he’s going to cry. “Don’t get soft on me, now.”

“I’m not.” Richie wipes a tear away and embraces his mom. She strokes his hair.

“How long have you been together?” Maggie asks him.

“Only three weeks.”

“You’ve liked him for a long time.” Richie gives her a look and she nudges him back, “Okay I know you are not dumb, Richie. I notice things. I’m your mother. Of course I know that the way you’ve always looked at him was different from the way you look at the rest of your friends.”

“Since the eighth grade,” Richie admits. Maggie hums. “So, are you gonna like.. make us keep the door open now?”

“We’ll see. But if I knock and there’s no answer within seven seconds, I’m opening that door.”

“Don’t even worry about it- we’re not..”

Maggie looks surprised, “You guys aren’t boning?”

“Mom!”

“What? I just finished what you were gonna say! Don’t be a pussy, I raised you better than that.” Maggie bumps Richie’s shoulder with hers, giggling. “But that’s surprising, actually.”

“I am not talking about my sex l- nonexistent sex life with you right now. Nope, not happening. This is a conversation for another night. Another year.”

Maggie laughs, “Alright, alright, understood.”

Richie pauses though, suddenly nervous to speak. “I love him, ma.”

“I know.”

Richie stumbles into Eddie’s window around midnight. He thinks Eddie is still asleep and climbs in the bed, carefully, snuggling up next to him. Richie presses soft kisses to the back of Eddie’s neck. He sighs contently and smiles against Eddie’s skin. Most people would probably think they’re moving too fast, despite them not actually moving fast at all. They’re in that weird position where they’ve just liked each other for so long, that the amount of time they’ve been official, doesn’t matter. Everything just feels so right.

Which is why Richie runs a hand through Eddie’s hair and mutters against his neck, “I love you, Eddie,” because he felt like it was the perfect time to say it. He freezes though, when Eddie stirs, turning to look at him. Richie starts to internally panic, but then:

“I love you too, Rich.”

Richie’s eyes are wide, his emotions are a mix of shock and happiness. Eddie smiles and reaches up to caress his cheek.

“I love you, too.” Eddie repeats. He wipes away a tear that rolls down Richie’s face and then suddenly a mouth is covering his own.

Honestly, fuck what others think. It’s their relationship, their pace, and they can do whatever they want.

And if that includes kissing Eddie forever, Richie definitely wouldn’t mind.

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

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years ago

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Robin//It’s Nice To Have A Friend

hi!! based off this song! apparently this is about two childhood friends falling in love?? what a concept. a concept that my brain did not think of when listening, this is what i assumed it was about. basically its a lot sadder than the actual song.

As soon as the school bell rings, Robin is pushing out of her seat and running to get her coat. All day she’s been locked in a stuffy classroom, destined to watch the snow fall from her desk while Mr Peters drones on about the History of Hawkins. What 10 year old wants to learn about why Hawkins has so many farms? Not this one. She wants to be free outside. As she rounds the corner, she runs straight into another girl, and at first she’s frightened, scared that its going to be one of the popular girls who’ll push her over and call her names. But as soon as she see’s your wide smile, she knows she’s safe and the frown on her face turns into a grin.

The pale yellow of the wall is a wile contrast to the bright pink coat your wearing, its puffy and far too big and you can barely move your arms in it, but you’re happy and warm and excited to be out of school. The two of you look at each other for a few seconds, matching smiles on your faces and you don’t even have to say anything to her, she already knows what you’re thinking.

“Last one out is a loser!” You call and take off into a sprint out of the front doors. She laughs loudly and follows you, the both of you narrowly avoiding any teachers that would ruin your fun and then your outside. The ground sparkles with the soft snow, and both of you smile gleefully as you watch your classmates throw snowballs at each other while they walk home. Your breath is visible in the air and you take a few moments just breathing and watching it disappear.

“I win.” You turn to her once you’ve gotten bored and she rolls her eyes, despite the smile on her face. The tip of her nose is tinted pink due to the cold and a giggle bubbles to your lips before you call her Rudolph. Again she rolls her eyes, telling you she already has a Winter themed name, but you’re not listening, you’re already at the bottom of the steps, your head tilted up so you can look at her.

The sky is as white as the ground, but neither of you care. Your both too wrapped up in the beauty of how peaceful everything looks. You and Robin live the furthest away from school, meaning you take a different route from the rest of your classmates, plus with the weather, the majority of students will either be getting the bus or being picked up by parents. The bus is far too crowded, no matter if its been snowing or not and you’ve told both of your parents specifically that if it snows they are not to pick you up. Its too pretty to be looked at through a car window. You have to experience it.

A small sun peeks out from underneath the snow, and its like the brightness of the yellow chalk has melted everything around it. While you stare at the ground Robin pulls her gloves and hat from her pockets and starts putting them on.

“Did you lose your gloves again?” She asks once she’s finished. You’re still distracted by snow falling around you, its not as heavy as before but it still gets stuck in your hair and when you look at her, she giggles a little at a snowflake stuck on your lashes.

“Yeah.” You reply. “I put them down outside but when I went back I couldn’t find them.”

“Here.” She takes a glove from her right hand and gives it to you. You smile gratefully at her and place it over your hands, feeling a tad warmer. She interlocks a gloved pinkie with yours as you start the walk back to your houses. “Wanna hang out?” She says casually and you’re so happy that she wants to spend even more time with you.

Despite being best friends and neighbours, sometimes you can’t help but feel that you’re not cool enough to hang out with Robin. Which, at any age is ridiculous, but at ten, even more so. And you’ve seen in films where friends go to high school or even middle school and one of them gets popular leaving the other behind and the thought of that terrifies you.

“Sure!” You beam. “Sounds like fun.”

After a small argument about where to go and an impromptu snowball fight, you finally make it to the arcade. Its bright lights pulling you in, but thats probably because the neon sign makes it stand out against the all white backdrop. The two of you run across the parking lot and through the fronts doors in record time, despite the snow, and your loud laughter gains the attention of a few people.

The two of you make a beeline for the the back, narrowly avoiding a few older kids as they walk past you both. Once you’ve made it, you instantly start playing while Robin scribbles something on a piece of paper from her bag. She slides it you and she takes over the game for you while you read. Her handwriting is messy and to most people difficult to read, but to you its the easiest thing in the world and your eyebrows furrow as you take in the words.

“What do you mean this place is haunted?” You turn to look at her and her eyes widen before she stares back at you, your character dying due to the lack of attention making you groan loudly.

“You don’t say that stuff out loud.” She huffs. “Thats how you get possessed.”

“This place isn’t haunted.”

“It is.” She argues. “I heard Heather talking to Andy on my way to the bathroom and they said this place is haunted by some kid who got addicted to playing the games here. And he ended up obsessed with winning one of them so he stayed overnight and ended up dying of exhaustion.”

“Thats bullshit.” You reply and her eyes widen at your words. “Heather and Andy don’t even know what this place is, and this place is closed at night.”

“Thats true.” She nods. “But Heathers brother does and Andy’s sister too, they go on dates here. And thats why he died, because there was no one here.”

“They make sure the place is empty before leaving.”

“They didn’t that night.” She crosses her arms stubbornly and you send her a look.

“They do every night. Plus, his parents would have been worried that he didn’t come back so they would have looked for him and Hopper would have found him.”

“Well-” She starts, but she can’t think of anything else to say so she just huffs loudly before going to playing. “Hey, do you want to sleep outside tonight? My dad bought a new tent for the summer.”

“Yeah! I’ll bring some snacks!” You say excitedly. “Will your mom be okay with it though.”

“Yeah.” She waves you off. “She’ll be fine with it.”

It's nice to have a friend...

”Hey, can you remember when you asked your mom if we could sleep in the garden and she told us stop being so ridiculous and that there was no way we were sleeping anywhere other than our beds in three foot of snow?” You ask and Robin chuckles beside you.

The light pink sky casts a soft hue against her skin making her freckles look like stars scattered across her face. She shifts a little, moving slightly closer to you and she wobbles a little bit on the roof. Your hand reaches out to grab her arm, steadying her and she sends you a grateful smile. A blush creeping up both of your cheeks at the contact. The street below is quiet, the trees swaying a little in the slight breeze and in the distance you can hear a few dogs barking. Its suburban, but its perfect. And there’s no other way you’d rather spend your Friday night.

The sun sinks behind the houses and you both sigh contently. Your parents have gone on a double date meaning you don’t have to be in bed by 10...despite you both being 16.

“Do you want to play a game?” Robin asks, still looking out into the night sky.

“Sure.” You shrug and cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep some of your warmth in. “What are we playing?”

“20 questions!” She says, her eyes bright as she looks at you and you groan loudly at her suggestion. “The reason we are here and not at Harrington’s party is so we don’t have to play these stupid games.”

“No, the reason we’re here and not at Harrington’s party is because we weren’t invited.” She says sarcastically.

“Whatever.” You nudge her softly making her giggle. “Even if we were invited, we wouldn’t have gone. Steve’s an ass, and I already have to deal with Carol in 2nd period English. I don’t need to see her anymore than I already do.”

“Have you finished complaining?” She raises an eyebrow while looking you up and down. Another groan escapes your lips but you nod slowly and a bright smile appears on her lips. “Okay. What do I not know about you?” She hums and looks up the to stars. You sneak a quick glance at her to just admire her, the way her hair frames her face perfectly, or the soft smile that appears on her lips as she quietly names constellations. “Oh!” She looks back at you, an excited grin on her face and you quickly look away, deciding to focus on your shoes hanging off the edge of the roof. “Would you rather have endless money or endless love?”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow. “Thats what you want to know?”

“Yes.” She replies confidently and you roll your eyes.

“Endless love.”

“Really?” Now its her turn to look at you confused, but you just shrug in return and look back out into the street.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure the person I love is really rich.” You say casually making her chuckle. The fact that you didn’t use any pronouns is such a small thing but it raises Robin’s heart rate and a small part of her can’t help but wonder...what if. “My turn!” You smile gleefully and now she’s worried. She’s known you long enough to know what that look means. And it never ends well. “What’s one secret you’re still keeping from your parents?” It feels like the air has been knocked out of her lungs and the knowing smile that was previously on her face has been completely wiped off, now replaced with a look of uncertainty.

There’s on secret she’s been keeping not only from her parents, but from everyone.

“I’m gay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she speaks. She refuses to make eye contact with you, instead looking at her legs, but she can feel your gaze on her and its suffocating.

“Okay.” You shrug and she looks at you quickly.

“Okay?” She asks.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Now come on, give me your worst.” You challenge, expecting her to make some sort of stupid joke, but instead her arms wrap around your figure, squeezing you tightly and the sudden action takes you by surprise. You lean into her, also hugging her and the two of you stay like that for a few minutes. She takes a deep breath and the scent of apple and vanilla invades every single part of her. Its you and every time she smells either of them she can’t help but smile. And now she realizes that there’s another secret she’s been keeping from everyone, including herself...she’s in love with her best friend.

“I’ve been so stressed recently.” She mumbles.

“Yeah...me too.”

“I didn’t want to lose you. I’ve been scared about telling my parents but part of me was even more scared to tell you. You’re my best friend and...I love you.” She sighs and you pull away from her, a frown on your face.

“You would never lose me.” You reassure her. “And I love you too.” Her hand reaches out slowly, almost anxiously before she rests it on top of yours. Your eyes meet and you send her a bright smile. Her smile isn’t as bright, its like she’s still holding something back but you decide not to press any further. “So, whats your question?” She sends you a look, but its followed by a grateful smile.

“Would you rather be left at the alter once, but eventually marry again. Or just never marry?”

It's nice to have a friend...

The church corridor is full of people running around, but Robin it still outside your suite. In all the years of your friendship, she’s never had to deliver news like this. As soon as she saw Steve’s pale face she knew what was happening. The solemn look and the shaking hands gave it away.

“Robin?” He touches her arm gently and she jumps, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before facing him. “What are you waiting for?”

“Oh, I dunno. I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to tell my best friend that her fiancee has left her at the alter. Actually, he left her before he even got to the alter.” She snaps and he flinches at her tone. Robin is always calm, level-headed. Its usually either himself or you that freak out in these type of situations, but then again, none of you have ever been in this situation. Steve’s glad to be your best friend, but he’s even more glad he doesn’t have to be the one to tell you this. “Sorry.” She sighs and leans her head against the door. “Its just...how do I tell her?” Steve thinks for a moment, looking down at the ugly carpet hoping that in the hideous pattern he’ll find an answer. But when it doesn’t appear and he can feel Robin staring at him, he looks back up.

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

She opens the door and for a second everything is well with the world. And then...

Apples and vanilla.

“Robin!” You squeal excitedly, your dress flowing around you as you run towards her, one hand holding a glass of champagne and the other reaching towards her while you narrowly avoid a table. “Where have you been? I need help with my dress.”

You place the glass down and pull her towards you, and before she has the chance to say anything you’ve pulls your hair to the side, exposing your bare back to her and she feels exactly the same as she did when she was 16 and coming out.

“Can you do my dress up please? I can’t reach and I don’t know where everybody else is?” You sound so happy...so excited.

And then she feels angry. Hot, white rage. Because why would anyone want to leave you? How could anyone leave you? Perfect, pretty you. That can make people laugh and leave a whole room breathless just with a smile all at the same time. Daniel was lucky to have you. She thought that as soon as she met him, and despite the pain that she felt when she saw you go through all the milestones with him and not her. She saw how happy he made you and so she decided she’d be in pain every single day if it made you happy. But now. Now you’re both going to be in pain. And there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s going to have to tell you the worst news of your life and she can’t make it better. She can’t bring him back, Steve’s already tried looking for him. She can’t take it away...god she wishes she could take it away.

“Robin?” You ask, your voice filled with worry as you sit her down on the small sofa, your guiding hand still in hers even when you’ve both sat down. You’ve only ever seen Robin cry a handful of times, so why is she crying on your wedding day? “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry.” She sobs and you look at her confused. Its only when she finally makes eye contact with you that you understand. You know every single look. Every smile, frown, quirk of an eyebrow and even though you’ve never seen this one before, you know. Your face falls, the confused smile crumbles, replaced with a look of pure devastation and Robin is never going to get that image out of her head. Her arms wrap around your shaking figure, pulling you into a tight hug and the more she shushes, the louder you cry.

Steve’s still outside, waiting for Robin to come back out but when he hears you crying he knows she won’t be out for a while, so he decides to make himself useful and break the bad news to everyone else. What else is the best man supposed to do?

After an hour, the church is empty and your loud cries have turned into small sniffles. The shoulder of her pale pink dress is covered in mascara, lipstick and tears but she doesn’t care. She needs to get you home.

“Come on.” She helps you stand and you laugh bitterly as you see your reflection the mirror. Smudged make-up, crumpled dress and a completely pathetic expression. “You don’t by chance have any other clothes here?” She asks but she already knows the answer. “Thats okay.”

As soon as your out the church, bells ring and its like the universe is laughing at you. Robin looks around, the bright blue sky a huge juxtaposition from what is happening below and she hurries you into her car. The rice crunching underneath your heels reminding you of snow and you can’t help the small smile that appears momentarily as you remember your childhood.

“You okay?” She asks once the two of you are buckled in.

“Fine.” You mutter and she sends you a pointed look.

“Y/n.” She says and before you know it you’re crying again. She sighs before starting the short drive back to your house. “Its going to be okay.” She looks at you once your parked outside your home, but you’re not looking at her. You’re gaze is focused on your front door, your mom standing just outside it, a solemn expression on her face and based on the amount of cars parked around your house, you both know she’s not the only one thats going to look like that. “Do you want to sleep at mine tonight?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Robin?” You ask, finally looking at her. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Yeah.” She nods, a tight smile on her face. “Everyday.”

Despite Mrs Buckley’s attempts to talk to you both, Robin practically pushes you up the stairs, sending her mom a look before following you up. Any other time you’ve walked through the threshold of this house, its always felt like home. But today, it feels empty. Although, you’re not entirely sure if its just you that feels empty.

You’re already out of your dress and raking through Robin’s drawers by the time she’s walked through the door. She puts the dress outside the door while you get changed and once she’s turned around you’ve already in bed, the covers pulled right up over your head.

“Hey Y/n?” She asks but you don’t respond. “Do you want to sleep outside tonight? My dad got yet another new tent...and I don’t think my mom will mind.” She sighs when she still doesn’t get a response so she decides to go to your house and try and tell everyone what little information she knows.

“Robin?” You call out, your voice barely above a whisper when you hear the door open.

“Yeah?” She’s looking at you instantly, and her heart breaks once she see’s how broken you are.

“Please don’t leave.”

“Of course not.” She smiles and closes the door, climbing into bed beside you. She’ll change once your asleep, but right now she needs to make sure you’re as okay as possible. “We can stay in bed all weekend if you want.”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Robin?” You ask and she hums in response, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It's nice to have a friend.”

#robin buckley #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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dlwritings · 5 years ago

Text

Got Your Six | Tom Holland | pt 2

series masterlist found here

general masterlist found here

pairing - mob!Tom x reader word count - 4,173 warnings - swearing, drinking, masturbation (f)

summary - April drags (Y/N) clubbing with her, Harrison, and Tom, and (Y/N) can’t even make it through the night.

(previous) (next)

Truth be told, I thought April would be over Harrison after she fucked him. I always forgot she wasn’t as familiar with one night stands as I was.

Not that I was familiar anymore. It had been a while.

April liked relationships, and it seemed like Harrison liked them too. The next day, Harrison dropped April off at our apartment about an hour before our shift at the cafe. She walked in all smiles with a bounce in her step. I had no idea how she was so awake so early in the morning. She always was. While I was grumbling good mornings to her until I had my cup of coffee, she was chatting as soon as she got out of bed. Just like every other morning, I rolled my eyes at her energy but smiled anyway. Seeing her happy always made me happy. I couldn’t help it.

“I take it you had a good night?” I asked her.

“The best!” she called back as she went into her bedroom. “Harrison’s so lovely, (Y/N). I really like him.”

April finished getting ready just in time for our shift, so we headed out and made our way down the street to the bakery. It was nice to live within walking distance of the place, and as long as we were together, neither of us minded the early morning walk through the streets of New York.

The first hour at the cafe was busy, as usual, but when there was a lull in customers, she dove right in to tell me about her night with Harrison. She spared me the details, which I appreciated, but she talked with such a glow that I knew she had a good time and that Harrison had treated her well.

When Harrison came in around noon with the intent to take her out for something to eat since our shift ended, I knew she was smitten. After two days? How? I was still iffy on how I felt about my gynecologist, and I had been seeing her for five years. April always did trust faster than I did.

For almost two weeks, I saw Harrison everyday. Often, because I saw Harrison, I saw Tom. Fucking Tom. I hated him. Him and his stupid button-up shirts and perfectly gelled hair and taut muscles and his annoying ass smirk. He would be the death of me, I knew.

Whenever Tom and Harrison came to the cafe, it was empty. If it wasn’t, it cleared out moments after they arrived. I couldn’t understand it. It was as if they had this magical power to make everyone around them vanish. Whatever it was, I hated it, because it meant I had no choice but to talk to Tom or look like a straight-up bitch. And I hated talking to Tom. He always made me mad, always called me sweetheart or babe or darling or princess or sweets. Who was he to call me pet names after insulting something about me?

“You need to make stronger coffee, princess.”

“Did you even warm up this muffin, sweets?”

“There’s too much ice in this, darling.”

Well I’m so sorry sir, I wanted to say to him. While I dump out all this coffee to brew a stronger pot, throw your muffin the microwave, and remove three ice cubes from your iced coffee, would you like me to shine your shoes or suck your dick?

The fucking nerve.

I made sure to support April though, because I was glad she was happy. And it really seemed like Harrison was treating her well. I just didn’t like that I had to suffer while she thrived. Yes, I considered spending time with Tom suffering.

Every waking moment with him made me want to blow my brains out. He was rude, arrogant, self-centered, and completely aggravating.

Then one day, Harrison came to the bakery on his own. It was the first time since he met us that he had done so, so it caught me a little off guard. “Hey, Harrison,” I said, giving him a smile. April was in the back getting a tray of muffins to replace the ones we had run out of at the counter. “Americano?” I asked.

“You know me so well,” he said back.

“You ever thought about trying something new?” I asked as he handed me a five dollar bill.

“Why ruin what’s already perfect?” he joked. I rolled my eyes and handed him his change. “Isn’t April in today?” he asked.

“She’s in the back,” I said. “She’ll be out in a minute.” The next question fell from my lips before I could second guess it. “Where’s Tom?”

Harrison grinned and ran his hand through his hair. “Missing him already?” he asked. “We were just here yesterday.”

“No,” I said, furrowing my eyebrows as I prepped his coffee. “I don’t miss him at all. Just surprised you’re not together. I’m still not entirely convinced you’re not gay lovers.”

Harrison laughed. “Surprisingly, that’s not the first time we’ve heard that.”

“Oh, I’m not surprised at all,” I said. I handed him his mug of coffee just as April came out from the back. “Harrison!” she said, her face lighting up. She put the tray of muffins down and ran around the counter. She threw her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his lips, making me fake gag. They pulled away from each other, and April rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have to be a buzzkill somewhere else?” she asked.

“Not until my shift ends,” I said, giving them both a smirk.

“Speaking of the end of your shift,” Harrison spoke up. “I was wondering if you ladies wanted to go out clubbing tonight.”

At the same time that I said, “No thanks,” April said, “Of course.”

We both looked at each other as Harrison chuckled. “Tom’ll be there, too,” he said. “If that helps.”

“Oh actually, that does help,” I said. “That turns my no thanks into a hell no.” April groaned and gave Harrison a tight-lipped smile.

“Give me two minutes to talk to her, yeah?” she said. Harrison smiled and nodded, then walked to the other side of the cafe where he sat at a table and drank his coffee while scrolling through his phone.

“April, I’m not going!” I said as soon as we were alone.

“You know I’ll tell-”

“I don’t even care about Chris,” I told her. “Tell Mom and Dad. Whatever. I can’t stand another minute with Tom.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh, I will be so dramatic!” I huffed back.

“(Y/N) I’m begging you,” April whined.

“Why can’t you and Harrison just go alone?” I asked. “Why does Tom even have to go with us?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “He once told me that one of them doesn’t go to a club without the other. It’s some dumb bro thing. And if you don’t go, you’re going to make Tom third wheel.”

“Tom third wheeling is not my problem,” I said with a shrug. “And anyway, are you sure they’re not gay? I mean, they’re attached at the hip.”

“Oh, I’m positive they’re not gay.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Gross!” I said, giving her arm a playful shrug.

“You started it,” she laughed. I rolled my eyes. “Please (Y/N).”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“(Y/N).”

“April.”

April groaned and put her hands on her forehead. “I’ll pay you,” she said. “I’ll do anything. You can half my paycheck for three weeks. I’ll, I’ll do the dishes for a month. Two months. I’ll do your laundry.”

I took a deep breath and let it out through my nose, letting my eyes wander to Harrison. He was talking on the phone now, still not looking in our direction. “Why does this mean so much to you?” I asked.

“Because I really like him,” she said, her voice lowering a bit. “And I like hanging out with him. And I haven’t been clubbing in a while, and I’d really like to go. With him.” I groaned and threw my head back. It was hard. I knew April liked to socialize, and I knew our budgets didn’t exactly allow for clubbing and nights out. If she had the opportunity to get drunk and go dancing with Harrison for free, who was I to stand in her way?

“Fine!” I caved. “Fine. But I won’t have any fun.” I looked over at Harrison. He was off the phone. “And Harrison!” I called. He looked over at us and smiled. “You have to buy all my drinks. Lord knows you can afford it.”

“Yay!” April cheered, throwing her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Awesome,” Harrison said, walking over to us with a smile.

“I’ll pick your outfit,” April told me. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“Do you not think I’m capable of doing that myself?”

“No, I don’t.”

Around 6:30 that evening, we both started to get ready. For me, April picked out a lace, bodycon, burgundy dress- one that we both knew usually made boys fall at my feet. “You’ve got something up your sleeve for me tonight?” I yelled through the apartment as I slid on my dress.

“I just want you to keep your options open!” she called back. “You gotta look your best in case you meet the one. Or just a one.”

She came into my room wearing a mauve bodycon dress, her hair curled, and her hairspray in hand. “Are all my curls good?” she asked, spinning around for me to inspect her look. I nodded, so she sprayed each hair into place. We were both ready to go by 8:00. I asked April what time we had to meet Harrison and Tom. “They’re picking us up,” she told me, looking at her phone. I groaned, and she rolled her eyes, not even looking up from her device. “And why does that upset you?”

“Because,” I huffed, “I’m going to get dropped off at the end of the night like a loser and you’re going to go back and have sex with Harrison.”

“Or you could meet a really great guy at the club and not need us to give you a ride at all,” April said. She locked her phone and smiled at me. “They’re here. Get your party face on.”

“I don’t have a party face.”

“Well you could at least pretend.”

The boys arrived in the Porsche, and Tom was driving. Harrison got out as soon as he saw us and opened the car door. He gave April us both hugs, April a kiss on the lips, and me a kiss on the cheek. I was flustered by his manners. Was his greeting abnormal, or had it really been that long since I met a decent man? I figured it was a bit of both. Tom, as expected, sat silently in the driver’s seat. “You girls both look lovely tonight,” Harrison said as he slid back into the driver’s seat.

“Doesn’t (Y/N) just look amazing?” April said, a teasing smirk on her face. “She says she hates going out, but you’d never tell by looking at her.”

“You look great, (Y/N),” Harrison said with a chuckle. “I mean, you couldn’t hold a candle to April, but-” I couldn’t help but laugh as April slapped his arm.

“Charming,” I said.

“Tom, doesn’t (Y/N) look nice?” Harrison asked, nudging Tom in the arm. Tom hummed in response and pulled onto the street.

“Don’t bother, Harrison,” I said sarcastically. “I think Tom is allergic to kindness.”

“Am I that obvious, babe?” Tom said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. I just rolled my eyes, folded my arms across my chest, and leaned back into my seat.

When we got to the club, we were let in right away, despite the line out front. “How did you do that?” April asked Harrison, hooking her arm with his.

“Who said real estate didn’t help make good connections?” he said, kissing the top of her head. She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder as the four of us walked into the club. April might’ve been charmed, but I was suspicious.

“Do you guys own the place or something?” I asked.

“Or something,” Tom said. I knew I wouldn’t get any farther, and frankly I didn’t care enough to press, so I just turned to Harrison and April.

“You owe me a drink, Haz,” I said. “I told April you were buying tonight.”

“Haz?” he repeated, a grin on his face. “Where’d you hear that from?” I jabbed my thumb in Tom’s direction even though he was already at the bar away from us. Harrison just laughed and nodded. “As you wish. What’re you drinking?”

“Tequila lemonade?”

“You got it.”

April joined him to get the drinks while I sat alone on a couch in the area of the club they left me in. The music was loud and there were sweaty bodies everywhere dancing and grinding against each other. I people watched, as usual. Everyone was dressed for a night out- tight dresses and button-up shirts. As my eyes scanned the room, I swore I saw the same three men in a corner booth that I had seen when April and I were out to eat with Harrison and Tom a few weeks ago. I figured I must’ve been imagining it, and when they looked in my direction I looked away.

Tom made his way over to me before Harrison and April did. He handed me a drink, and I raised my eyebrows at him. “Harrison told me to give it to you,” he said.

“Oh did he?” I said. “And how do I know you didn’t drug it?” He seemed to tense the minute the words left my mouth, but I convinced myself I was wrong.

“And what would I get out of drugging your drink?” he asked. “How would that benefit me at all?”

“Look, I don’t know what sick twisted motives you have,” I said. “I’m still not entirely convinced you’re not a psychopathical rapist.”

“Okay,” Tom said slowly. “We don’t have time to unpack all of that.” I scoffed. “First, I’m pretty sure psychopathical isn’t a word. Second, I’m way more interested in fucking girls who want to fuck me back, which-” He motioned around the room. “-aren’t hard for me to find.”

“You know,” I said, “if you don’t want me to think you’re an asshole, it might help if you stopped fitting the stereotype of one.”

“Oh, I don’t care if you think I’m an asshole, sweets,” he said, sipping from his drink. I scoffed and finally took a large gulp of my drink.

“I’m going to ask you something.” I figured it was better to tell him rather than ask for permission. He seemed interested, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. “Why don’t you and Harrison ever go to clubs alone?”

“How do you know we don’t go to clubs alone?” Tom asked.

“April told me it’s a thing,” I said. “She told me it’s a bro thing.” Tom scoffed and took another drink from his glass.

“When you’ve had as many bad nights out as we have, you sort of develop a system,” he said.

“Oh?” I said. “What kind of bad nights?”

He chuckled dryly. “Sweetheart, you don’t even want to know.” I rolled my eyes.

“You're so dramatic,” I said. Tom just chuckled, and I took a long drink from my glass and scanned the crowd. Harrison and April were already dancing together, which made me sigh and bring the drink up to my lips again.

As much as I liked to argue with April and tell her I was content alone, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when I watched her. Maybe companionship would be nice. Also my vibrator could not replace the real thing, and I hadn’t picked up a decent guy in ages. I gave up on Tinder as soon as the sexy 26-year-old ended up being a 43-year-old hooked on cocaine. The 40-something-year-old I could handle. The lying and drugs were not my thing. Plus, I hadn’t been out clubbing in a while -not able to afford the lifestyle- so I didn’t exactly frequent any spaces popular for hook-ups.

I finished my drink and headed over to the bar to get another one, leaving Tom without a word. The bartender put my drink on Harrison’s tab, and I sat at the counter and drank it as quickly as I could. I wanted to get drunk, and I wanted to get drunk fast.

I wasn’t someone who got drunk often. Again, it wasn’t exactly a habit I could afford. All I knew was that when I was drunk, I was happy, way more carefree, and a hell of a good dancer. Or at least I had the confidence to pretend to be a good dancer. Once my drink was gone, I made my way to the crowd of people dancing and started to move to the music. I didn’t have a care in the world. As I was dancing, I let my eyes scan the crowd for potential males. Some men were staring at me, others too wrapped up in other girls to pay me any attention.

One man specifically caught my eye. He was one of the guys I had seen in the corner of the club who had looked like someone from the restaurant. He was tall, brown-haired, and had a short beard on his face. In one hand he gripped his glass, and the other was rubbing his chin as he stared at me. He wore black slacks and a black and white striped button-up loosely tucked in. I noticed an expensive watch gleaming on his wrist. Who cares if he was probably ten years older than me? I was alone, horny, and feeling him.

Just as I was about to approach him, I felt a pair of hands on my hips. Before I could turn to snap at the man who had the audacity to touch me, his lips were by my ear. “You’re not gonna want to go for that one, petal,” Tom muttered.

“And why would I listen to you?” I asked. I probably should’ve moved out of his grasp, but something about his hands on my hips made me continue dancing. I blamed the alcohol.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said. “But you’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

“How do I know you’re not just trying to steer me away from all the guys and take me for yourself?”

Tom scoffed. “Like I said, doll. I’m not a fan of the chase. I’m much more interested in girls who fall at my feet.” He chuckled. “Preferably to their knees.” He paused, his breath fanning my neck. Did I tilt my head to show him more skin? No, of course not. I wasn’t that drunk. Right? “Would you get on your knees for me, (Y/N)?”

“I-” I let out a sigh, almost positive I felt his lips ghost across my skin. “I can’t fucking stand you.”

Tom laughed, and I felt one of his hands slide from my hip to my thigh. “Just because you can’t stand,” he taunted, “doesn’t mean you can’t kneel. Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t suck my cock. Wouldn’t beg for it. Just like all the others. You’re no better than the other girls, (Y/N). Don’t try to tell yourself otherwise.”

“I would never beg for you,” I said, trying to blink away my buzz. “I don’t beg for men I hate. And I hate you.”

“Believe me,” he said, a slight growl in his voice. “The feeling is mutual. I find you absolutely infuriating.”

“The way you’re asking me to suck your dick says otherwise,” I said.

“Oh, I’m not asking,” he said. “I never ask.”

“Is that supposed to turn me on?” I asked. “Because you’re basically telling me you never ask for consent.” Tom’s grip on my hips tightened.

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, “and you know it.”

Tom suddenly pulled away from me, so I finally turned to look at him. Honestly, I thought we were just bantering in the annoyed fashion that we both do, but he seemed actually angry. I sure as hell wasn't going to apologize, but I wondered what I had said that made a flip switch. “I’m bored,” I said to him, rolling my eyes. “And you’re a buzzkill.” I put my hand on his chest as I started to walk past him. “Tell April I’m ubering home it you see her.”

“I’m not your fucking messenger,” he said.

“Jesus,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Whatever. I’ll do it myself.”

I left Tom alone on the dance floor and found April, shouting to her over the music that I was heading back to our apartment. “Are you sure?” she asked, stepping away from Harrison. “We’ve hardly been here more than an hour.”

“I’m not feeling it,” I said, steadying myself by holding onto her shoulder.

“You had a lot to drink?” she teased.

“I put it all on Harrison’s tab,” I said. She just rolled her eyes, and I noticed Harrison smirk. “Okay,” I said, clapping her on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go. Harrison-” I clapped him on the shoulder too. “-take care of my sister.”

“Always,” Harrison chuckled. They both waved me off, so I stumbled through the club and headed outside. The Uber I ordered arrived within minutes, and I got home within a half hour. Once I was at the apartment, I stumbled inside and to my room, kicking off my shoes as I went along. I fell onto my bed, laying on my back in the middle of the mattress. I was annoyed, crabby, and so fucking horny. The whole ride home, all I could think about was-

“Stupid Tom,” I muttered to myself, tossing and turning as I laid above the covers. “Stupid Tom and his stupid, stupid fucking everything.”

His stupid face.

His stupid arms.

His stupid hands.

His stupid lips.

His stupid ass.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I pushed my dress over my hips and tugged my underwear down my legs, then reached into my nightstand and grabbed my vibrator. I was already wet. Truthfully, I had been ever since Tom touched me at the club. I was angry turned on, surely. That was a thing, right? I didn’t like him. In fact, he made me absolutely furious, but I would be lying to the world if I said I didn’t find him sexy as hell. But he made me so mad. Telling me not to go after guys. Acting like he had some magical dick.

His stupid dick. Probably big and thick and-

I turned my vibrator on the lowest setting and started teasing my clit, then moved it across my juices before easily sliding it in me. I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning and thought about Tom’s hands and how they gripped me on the dance floor, wondering how it would feel to have him gripping them as he pounded into me from behind, his lips dragging across the back of my neck, and his fingers rubbing my clit. I turned the vibrator up a setting and dragged it across my clit.

“Shit,” I muttered, using my other hand to grip my hair. I pushed the vibrator into me then, imagining how much bigger Tom’s cock probably was. Imagining him fucking me for making one too many annoying comments to him. Calling him sir in the bedroom. Letting him mark me however he wanted. Letting him claim me as his. Fucking me wherever he wanted to. Touching me in public, telling me not to make a sound but secretly wanting me to so he could punish me for it later.

“Oh, Tom!” I called out, digging my head into the mattress. “Fuck!”

I turned around onto my stomach, moving my hips against the vibrator, chasing my release. My moans were muffled by my pillow, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer. I pictured Tom slamming into me from behind, spanking my ass until I came all over his cock, then him having me suck him off and swallow what he gave me. I turned the vibrator to the highest setting and pressed it to my clit, feeling my legs shake as I came and collapsed onto the bed.

I turned off the vibrator and laid on my bed, taking a moment to catch my breath. I seemed to sober up after that, realization hitting me that I just gave myself one of the best orgasms to the thought of Tom. I sighed in annoyance and got out of bed, hoping to wash off the shame in the shower.

“I fucking hate him.”

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

TAGLIST

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #smut #marvel #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #got your six

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princebugs · 5 years ago

Text

stolen dance. (reed900)

small note before this begins--- this oneshot is based off of some art made by @jude-shotto !!! pls go follow them theyre amazing

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

"Fucking--- shit," Squinted eyes gaze into his dust-ridden reflection before him, his phalanges evidently not nimble enough for this simple task he had to complete; tying a tie. Perhaps he was skilled in this in another life of his, but ever since he was a young kid, he was never able to finish any sort of tie. Whether it be a regular ass tie, or a bowtie--- tying that shit? Not Gavin's thing; he would just force his father to tie it, when his dad was still in the house, that is.

Cue another long-winded groan, and he gives up. The tie had gotten all sorts of messed up during the actual wedding, due to him having to lift it up to wipe away the tears dripping down his cheeks. Weddings were emotional, alright? Tina could barely get through her vows to North, and Gavin felt too many emotions at once--- anger at her for leaving Gavin so easily (not in the romantic way, he didn't like her like that), sadness for seeing her go away into her new life, and happiness for seeing his best friend finally finding someone that cared about her so dearly.

Nonetheless, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Jealousy.

When the fuck was it gonna be Gavin's turn, huh?!

He threw the abandoned, wrinkled tie behind him, not really caring to see where it landed, and he points to himself in the mirror. "You, Gavin Reed, are a fuckin' delight to be around. You will find someone eventually. And, your ass looks GREAT in these pants, so don't go in there and look all depressed. You're gonna walk into that stupid dance-floor, immediately sit the fuck down at the bar, drink champagne, and hope for the best--- because Gavin Reed isn't a desperate man!"

A proud grin stretches across his visage, confidence washing over all of his insecurities as he turns around to leave the bathroom--- of course, taking a quick look at his ass along the way.

You're damn right it looks good.

He straightens out his suit jacket on the way out, before noticing that someone was in the bathroom stall directly behind where he did his little pep talk. Freezing in his tracks, the air is silent in the room for several moments.

"...I'll give you twenty bucks after this if you don't tell everyone about me talking about my ass."

"Deal."

Done and done with that, he walks out of the bathroom.

A brief exhalation, and still meandering with a new surge of confidence, his hues breeze over the area, searching for a very specific lady of the hour--- he wasn't letting her go on that honeymoon without stealing a dance from her, duh. That's just how they rolled, ever since highschool prom.

His train of thought is broken by someone speaking to him, and he inclines his cranium to the side to catch a glance of who wished to partake in a conversation with him--- oh. Connor, and Hank.

Connor was wearing suspenders along with his bowtie (stupid phckin' neat android who could tie a tie--), and his jacket was placed on a chair just a few feet away from them. His hair was done as it usually was; slicked back except for a few baby hairs. His smile was as bright as ever. "Gavin! We were wondering when you would come out of there. I queried to Hank that you might have had a bad lunch, and were possibly disposing of i--"

"Connor, stop that shit," Hank interrupts before Gavin gets the chance to, and Gavin almost laughs at his appearance. Listen, it's not everyday that you see Hank Motherfuckin' Anderson dressed up nicely, and Gavin actually has to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter. He didn't catch sight of him beforehand, so he was just seeing this--- this monkey suit of his.

He couldn't deny that it did look good on the Lieutenant, but nonetheless, it was fuckin' hilarious. "So, Hank, did you borrow that suit from your grandpa, because it looks just a lil' dusty riiiight--"

"Don't even touch me, Reed. Don't even think about it," Hank's coarse voice states, causing Gavin to retract his palm from almost wiping off the other male's shoulder. Gavin snickers anyways.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll bug you about that shit later, after the wedding," He actually has a tone of genuine joy, his childish smirk turning into a bright grin.

Connor beams at that. "Wow, Detective! You actually... don't look pissed off for once. I'm quite impressed."

His cerulean irises roll in slight irritation, but he keeps smiling. "Listen, today's a good day for me, alright? My best friend got married, for fuck's sake--- speaking of Tina, where is the secondary bride? I need to get my dance from her real quick before I dash outta this place. It smells like my nana in here."

"Don't tell North that," Markus joins in on the conversation, looking as pristine as ever with his tuxedo (suit jacket abandoned), and his sapphire-and-emerald optics practically sparkling in the light. Gavin almost blushes. Almost.

There may have been a possibility that Gavin used to have a minor, MINOR, crush on Markus. Who could blame him? Look at the guy--- he was too pretty. If Gavin was the president during the revolution, he would've let the androids live free just because he would have gotten entranced in everything that is... Markus.

He gave up on that MINOR crush soon enough, and now they were just mutual friends.

"Oh, shit--- she isn't around here, is she? North'll kill me if she heard that," Gavin glances around himself, emitting a sigh of relief. North was the one who planned the majority of the wedding occasion, and if she heard any complaint about it, she wouldn't hesitate to snap a certain-coffee-infused-relatively-short-detective's neck. Phew. "Coast is clear, y'all."

"Tina and North are actually sitting down right over there," Markus turned around to point over towards the newly-wedded couple before continuing, "be careful what you say, of course. North could still commit a murder tonight." Markus chuckles, but Gavin gulps.

"Alright, see ya, losers," The human begins his sauntering over towards Tina, ignoring any possible looks that were given his way (he was hoping it was merely because he put just a little extra sway in his step to catch people's attention), and then tapping Tina's shoulder once he made it there.

"North? Mind if I snatch away your wife for a dance?" Gavin bit down on the inside of his right cheek, extremely nervous about merely asking her that. He had met North beforehand, of course--- he was just very afraid of her. She didn't generally like humans, besides her partner, and he didn't generally like androids; it was a match made in HELL.

Surprisingly, North smiled softly, gesturing for Tina to go ahead and stand up. "Go ahead, I'm sure she needs as much time with her best friend as she can get."

"Sweet. C'mon, Tina," Finally taking off his jacket and placing it around an empty chair near his current area, as well as pushing up his sleeves, he then holds a palm out for her to take, and Tina laughs.

"Dude, are you taking me for a waltz, or something? Don't be so fancy," Tina, that beautiful bitch, giggled before giving her wife a kiss on the cheek, then taking Gavin's hand. "This doesn't make me any less gay, you know that, right?"

Gavin stuck his tongue out in disgust, a little 'bleugh' sound emitting from him, "Gross, man. Plus, you're totally not my type," he says as he leads her to the dancefloor. People are already dancing there, but once they see the grey-black vest of Gavin, and the sleek black dress of Tina, they move out of the way. Perks of being the best man and one of the brides, eh?

"Yeah," Tina began, peeking behind Gavin's shoulder as they swayed around to the rhythm, their hips shaking at a leisurely pace, "in fact, didn't your type just walk right through that door?"

His eyebrows furrow momentarily, his head turning to look behind him, and---

Yowza.

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

keep reading on ao3!!!

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loserslibrary · 5 years ago

Text

pairing: Stanley Uris/Richie Tozier [Stozier] warnings: illusions to major character death/canon compliant written by: Amy rating: Teen word count: 2,059 prompt: “may i get some stozier? maybe richie or Stan coming out to the other for the first time angsts with happy ending”

Richie wasn’t sure how, but at some point throughout his years growing up in Derry, Maine, he had acquired a habit of climbing in his friends bedroom windows instead of using the door. Maybe it was because of Eddie’s mother, and the fact that she hated his guts, so he had to use the window there, but he couldn’t be sure. This was how he found himself climbing into his best friend, Stan’s, bedroom which was thankfully on the first floor of his home.

“Staniel, thank goodness you’re awake!” Richie crowed as he pushed himself inside, closing the frame behind him and flopping down onto the bed next to Stan. A deep sigh came from his friend and Richie looked up to see him watching him over the top of the book he was reading. “Am I interrupting something?”

Stan shook his head, “Not necessarily, but I was in the middle of a really good part of the book so I suppose in a way, yes you are. What brings you here at...ten in the evening on a school night?” Stan was staring at him fully now, the book cast aside on the bed. He crossed his arms. “Everything okay?”

Richie chewed on his bottom lip, the reason for him barging in so late on his friend’s quiet time still fresh in his mind. He had been at the arcade, as he normally was when trying to avoid homework. The place still left a bitter taste in his mouth since the summer of 1989, but over time he had fallen back into his same old routine. That is, until that night, when the past came to bite him in the ass. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even hear Stan repeat his name. “Huh?”

“What’s going on?” Stan asked, his expression a little softer this time as he moved closer to Richie, a hand settling on his knee. At the action, Richie jumped a little and groaned internally, and Stan’s frown deepened. “Rich?”

There were a few reasons that Richie had chosen Stan out of all the losers to confide in about his internal problem. Not only was Stan a fantastic listener, but he was also honest and honesty was something Richie really needed at that moment. There was also the fact that Richie had a little bit more of a connection with Stan than he did with the rest of his friends, even though he loved them all dearly.

“Henry’s cousin is back in town,” Richie finally muttered, looking down at his lap. Stan had removed his hand from his knee and it was sitting on the bed a few inches away. Richie tried to ignore the way he wanted it to be back on his leg, grounding him. “Connor.”

“Okay?” Stan prompted, waiting for Richie to continue. When it was clear that it was going to take a little more than that, he sighed. “What about him? Did he bother you or something?”

Richie looked up then, his eyes wide behind his large glasses and shook his head, “No- No he didn’t bother me or anything.” He ran a hand through his hair. “He uh- he kissed me actually. Out back when I was having a smoke.” He looked down after the confession and then back up at Stan’s somewhat shocked expression. Yet, Richie wasn’t done. “He kissed me and…and I liked it.”

As he spoke, his thoughts drifted back to that moment an hour ago outside the arcade. He had seen Connor come in to the arcade, but had focused on his round of Street Fighter instead, trying not to bring any unwanted attention to himself, especially after what happened the last time. However, fate hadn’t been on his side, as Connor had approached him, starting up a casual conversation, asking him how he had been. Not wanting to be rude, Richie had replied and they ended up talking about a lot of things.

Then Richie had excused himself to go for a smoke, and a few minutes later before he had even lit up his cigarette, Connor was outside with him and they were kissing. It wasn’t even a gentle kiss at that, it was tongue, teeth and rather dirty, the two of them grinding against one another in the back of the alleyway outside the arcade.

To Richie, it felt good.

The only reason they parted was because of the sound of voices coming from inside the arcade, and the last thing they wanted was to be caught in a tryst with each other as Richie already had a reputation of being a faggot. If this got back to Henry about Connor being with Richie, the reactions would not be most welcome.

“Say something, Stan…” Richie whispered as the silence became too much to ignore. “I need you to say something, or do something because this silence is killing me.”

Stan blinked and ran a hand through his hair, “Is this your way of telling me you like boys?” He asked. “Because if you are then, Richie, it’s completely fine. You know that neither I nor anyone else would judge you for being gay or even bisexual.”

At the second word, Richie tilted his head to the side in confusion, “Bisexual?”

“You know, when someone likes both girls and boys? Bisexual. Bill’s uncle is bisexual, even though he’s with a man right now.” Stan explained and Richie’s jaw dropped a little. Everyone knew about Bill’s uncle James and how he had chosen to settle down with another man even though they couldn’t legally get married. Richie had no idea that he liked women too. “You didn’t know that was a thing?”

Slowly, Richie shook his head negative, “I- I didn’t know that was a thing; but Stan…I don’t think I’m attracted to women. In fact, I am definitely not attracted to women. I am very much attracted to men and I feel, fuck I don’t know how I feel.”

“Scared?” Stan offered, this time placing his hand over the top of Richie’s and immediately Richie felt a calmness wash over him and he relaxed into the bed. He felt a little pathetic being a seventeen year old boy, soothed by the touch of his closest, best friend. At that, Richie’s brain came to a halt and his heart made a little jump in his chest.

Oh. Oh fuck. He liked Stan.

“Yeah,” Richie croaked eventually, the realisation settling in his brain, making his normal strong voice weak and small. “Yeah, I’m scared Stan. Absolutely terrified.”

And Richie was.

* * * * *

It had been a week since Richie had come out to Stan, and at the same time realised that he had feelings for his best friend. In that week, Richie had not only avoided Stan, but the rest of the losers as well, which left everyone talking. For the most part, Richie managed to ignore it, but even he had to admit that he missed his friends….he missed Stan.

So a week after his confession, Richie found himself alone at the kissing bridge, legs dangling over the edge as he rested his chin on the wood. He held his dad’s pocket knife in his hand as he debated on whether or not to do what he had come all the way out here for. Before he could think about it further though, there was a new presence next to him.

Richie turned his head to the side and smiled a little as he realised it was Stan. “Hey,” he whispered, breaking the silence and Stan turned his head to face Richie, his eyebrow raised.

“Why have you been avoiding us?” Stan asked. He mentioned the other losers in his question, but Richie was no fool, he knew that Stan really wanted to know why Richie was avoiding him. “Is it because of what you told me last week? Because I told you Richie, that I don’t care who you like, you’ll always be my friend.”

At the word, Richie winced a little but nodded his head. “It’s not because of that, Stan. I mean- it kind of is but I haven’t been avoiding you because I think you think any less of me. I know you would be honest with me, which is one of the reasons why I came to you in the first place. That, and you’re my best friend.”

Stan smiled at that and they fell into a somewhat comfortable silence. The kissing bridge was a little far from town, so only occasionally a car would drive past. No-one really batted an eyelid at them though, since everyone knew that Richie and Stan were the best of friends.

“You know, what you did last week, telling me about Connor? That was really mature and brave of you Richie,” Stan whispered after a few more moments of silence. “I never thought I’d say that to you, but I mean it. I’m glad you told me.” Richie turned to look at Stan, sensing that there was something else his friend had to say. “I wanted to say this last week, but I’m not as brave as you so I chickened out.”

Richie raised his eyebrows in surprise and curiosity, tilting his head to the side, “What is it Stan the Man? Open up, tell me all your woes.”

“I like boys too,” Stan spoke quietly, his cheeks a little red. “I have known for a while though, but I was too scared to tell anyone. Until now. I guess I’m feeding off of your new found courage to speak the truth.”

Out of all the things that Richie thought Stan would say, this was not one of them. His jaw dropped a little and he stared at him, trying to figure out how he hadn’t realised before now. “You- you do?”

Stan nodded his head once and in another unexpected move, he reached over and laced his fingers with Richie’s, a bashful smile on his lips. Richie felt his cheeks heat up and he turned his head to look down at the water flowing under the bridge, trying to will himself to calm down. “We can’t do anything about this now, not while we’re still in Derry. If anyone finds out, we’ll both be dead.” Stan stopped and cleared his throat. “After we leave though, if you still feel the same, then maybe we can try?”

All Richie could do was nod his head. If need be, he’d wait a lifetime for Stanley Uris.

* * * * *

A choked sob escaped forty-year old Richie Tozier’s lips as he approached the kissing bridge, his body now free of the blood and grime that had covered him when he was down in the Sewers. They had done it, they had finally defeated the evil clown that had hunted them as children. They had defeated it and saved so many lives…but at what cost?

The cost of both Eddie Kaspbrak and Stanley Uris’ lives. A big price to pay, Richie would add bitterly.

Now that he was back in the cursed town he had grown up in, all the memories that had been covered over with a veil were now back at the front of his mind, making his chest and heart ache more that it had ever done in his whole life. How he remembered telling Stan he was gay, and then how Stan had told him he had feelings for him- in a very Stan way, of course.

How they had promised they would try once they’d gotten the hell out of Derry. Yet the second they both crossed the town lines, in completely different directions, all the memories of that promise had gone with the wind, trapped in the town of Derry. Now Richie had nothing but the distant memory of his best friend, etched as best as he could in the back of his mind. Another bitter thought entered Richie’s mind right at that moment. He never got to see what Stan looked like as an adult.

It was then, for the first time since he had given up in 1996, that Richie Tozier needed a cigarette.

#stozier #stozier fic #stanley uris #richie tozier #ours #by amy #ours: stozier #canon compliant #angst #coming out

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ccatvalentine · 4 years ago

Text

murder house | pilot

introduction

Season 1 - Murder House

Episode 1 - Pilot

word count: 2,438

1978

Far above , the branches twisted like distorted limbs reaching out. The forboding tree reaching out towards you. The open gates, showcasing a gnarled, old looking- house and a young girl standing on the front lawn

CRASH! A sound crashes as someone throws a rock at the window of an abandoned house and shatters it.

Bryan jokes “Hey, Troy. You're a dork.”

“Hey, shut up. Hey, freak.” Troy insults.

On Bryan’s way to the front door, Bryan blows some kisses at Addie who stares back at him, keeping a straight face.

“Excuse me. You are going to die in there.” the mysterious girl warns.

“Shut your mouth, or we're gonna kick your ass!” Troy says,angry at the girl.

Bryan “We got bats.”

Troy moans “I hate trees!”

As they enter the house, Addie chants “You're gonna regret it. You're gonna regret it. You're gonna regret it.”

Troy “Yeah!”

Bryan “Yeah!”

The boys smash everything inside of the house with their bats.

“Troy” Bryan says he looks at the door.

“Awesome, go,” Troy forced.

“No, you go, shithead.” Bryan says, not wanting to go first.

The boys go down the stairs, not knowing the dangers that they are about to face.

“Check it out." Troy pushed.

They find a room full of jars filled with human's and animal's parts. Troy picks up a jar containing an ear and drops it. As a result, it shatters onto the ground.

“It stinks in here. It stinks like shit. You remember last summer when we get the raccoon stuck in our chimney? That's what it smells like. Let's go find it.” Troy says, disgusted.

“No, it smells bad... I'm getting out of here.” Bryan says.

Troy goes further into the room, poping his crackers, while Bryan turns around, up the stairs. Suddenly, the popping stops. Bryan stops his ascension.

"Troy? " Bryan questions.

(A bottle rolls across floor)

"Troy? Who's down there? Cut it out, Troy. Cut it out." Bryan asks again, scared.

Bryan finds Troy on the ground, his throat slashed while Troy is reaching out to him, unable to utter anything. Suddenly, Bryan turns around and sees a terrifying creature called the infantata, running in their direction.

As a result, Bryan starts screaming bloody murder as Addy simply stars back at the house.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

18th July 2011

Ugh this is soooo boring, I don't know why my parents aren't divorced already, whatever, it's not like I care.

"Mommmm are we there yet?" I complain.

" We'll be there soon honey. " mom says looking at me from the mirror thing.

Vivien : The light is different out here. It's softer.

Violet : It's called smog.

Ben : You should be excited, Vi. You can stop sneaking cigarettes and just start taking deep breaths.

Violet : I need to go to the bathroom.

Ben : We're almost there.

Violet : I need to go.

Ben : Vi, it's a freeway. Really, where do you want me to pull over? Maybe the Honda next to us has a bathroom or something.

Violet : Bet if the baby had to piss , you'd find somewhere.

"Hey! Don't call me a baby!" I pouted.

Vivien : Really? Violet, I hate that word, unless I'm saying it.

Ben : I'm really glad we named you Violet, instead of our second choice. Same with you Eve.

Violet : Which was?

Vivien : Sunshine.

"lol, cringe." Violet shoots me a ' wtf' look.

Ben : It's funny. Come on, you gotta admit it's funny.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Currently, we’re at the front of our brand new house and dad is ringing the doorbell.

Ben : I love it. Don't you love it, hon? I mean, it looks even better than it did online.

Vivien : Yeah, it's interesting.

“How about you Evelyn?” Dad asks me.

“I think it’s cool and superrr creepy. :) it’s totally haunted!” I beam while Violet keeps on thinking, ‘why does my sister have to be so creepy?’

Violet : Great. So we're the Addams Family now.

Ben : Hey, crabby pants. Come here.

Vivien : What are you doing?

Ben : Isn't this place amazing?

Suddenly, I see an old looking lady open the door.

Marcy : Welcome. It's a classic L.A. Victorian. Built around 1920 by the doctor to the stars at the time. It's just fabulous. These are real Tiffany fixtures. As you can see, the previous owners really loved this place like a child. They restored everything.

‘Tiffany, in that super cool famous store I see big celebrities like Lady Gaga buy and wear???!’ I think, amazed.

Vivian: Gay?

Marcy : What do you think?

Ben : Tiffany. Wow.

Marcy : Do you cook?

Ben : Viv is a great cook. I got her cooking lessons a few years ago, and she ended up teaching the teacher a few things.

Marcy : Cooking lessons... romantic. Aren't you a psychologist?

Ben : Psychiatrist. You said something on the phone about there being a study that I could use as a home office? I'm planning on seeing patients here, so I can spend more time with the family.

‘That’s kinda cool I guess : I wont have to deal with seeing the patients every day. Privacy, at last.’ I smile, happy at the idea.

Marcy : How refreshing.

(Vivien puts her dog down, and it goes running outside the kitchen, yapping)

Vivien : Violet, honey, would you go see where Hayley we-nt? Oh, never mind. Eve, try not to trip sweetheart!

“Hey fluffy, what’s wrong?” her eyes widen (she just came up with this) “I know! It’s ghost... spooky. 😃” Whoever the ghost was, decided to prank her by tapping her on the head lightly. “ Aaahhhh!!!” she screamed while running into her mothers chest while her mother was confused. Nevertheless, she’s pulled her daughter into a hug. “Mom! This shits haunted, so cool!”

Violet was used to this, username to her sister being obsessed and fascinated with scary things. Violet signed and went up to the dog,” What are you yapping at?”

That was soooo epic! Finally, I get to feel a ghost!!😊😃😀 im watching as the loser attempts to open a random creepy door, oh she’s done it, finalllly. I see her go in a bit and peek inside while she goes down the stairs. it's dark and creepy but whatever cool I guess.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

I was walking back to the living room?? area.

Vivien : This wallpaper is peeling over here. Looks like maybe there's a mural underneath it.

Marcy : The last owners probably covered it up. They were modernists. Speaking of the last owners, full disclosure requires that I tell you about what happened to them.

‘Wait?! something happenedddd???’

Vivien : Oh, God... they didn't die in here or anything, did they?

Marcy : Yes, actually, both of them. Murder-suicide. I sold them the house, too. They were just the sweetest couple. You never know, I guess.

‘omgggggg ghostsss!!!! i called it! 😉’

Ben : That explains why it's half the price of every other house in the neighborhood, I guess.

Marcy : I do have a very nice mid-century ranch, but it's in the Valley, and you're going to get a third of the house for twice the price.

Ben : Right.

Violet : Where did it happen?

Marcy : The basement.

Violet : We'll take it.

‘:) operation find ghosts!’

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Ben: Come on, babe, let's go to bed. Leave that for the morning.

Vivien : I'm a little bit worried about Violet, you know, these kids here are very different. I don't know if she can handle another year of not fitting in. Same with Evelyn, her friends at her old school weren’t a great influence on her.

Ben : You mean... you can't?

Vivien : Can't believe this place doesn't freak you out a little bit. 'Cause of what happened here?

Ben : My repulsion is tempered by the fact that this house is worth four times what we paid for it, so let's not think about it.

Vivien : This is your professional advice, Doctor, just denial?

Ben : Come on, let me give you a little love. Moving here, buying this house was the exact right thing to do for us and our family. It's a good thing and we deserve some good after all the shit we've been through.

Vivien : I've got some stuff I want to... unpack down in the kitchen. I appreciate that you're trying. I'm trying, too.

Ben : Okay.

Vivien : It's just gonna take some time.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Currently, I’m at the campus of my new middle school. I see a group of bitchy-looking girls out front.

Maria : Hey! Student council passed a rule against blowing bubblegum.

Katy : yeah, you could choke on it.

‘tf okay karen.’

“I'm new, I didn't know, sorry.” i roll my eyes.

Maria : What the hell is wrong with you? People sit here, they eat here.

“You don't know me. Why are you doing this?”

Katy : Maria's grandmother died from choking on gum, she takes this pretty seriously.

Maria : Eat it... eat it or I'm gonna kick the shit out of you.

“No. What?”

Cathy : Come on, , that's enough.

Maria : No, no, no, I want to see her eat it.

“No. No.”

Maria : Eat it, eat it.

Katy : Maria, seriously, she's like 10.

Maria tries to force me to eat the gum, but I take the gum out of my mouth and place it on Maria’s head. Maria screams.

Maria : You are dead! You are dead!

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Currently, I’m peaking, leaning around the corner of my sister’s door.

Tate : This one I did after my dad left. I was ten, I think.

‘Who’s this?’

Violet : Last week, first day at my new school... sucks.

‘Ouch, that looks like it hurts.’

Tate : Westfield, right? The worst. I got thrown out of there.

Violet : I hate it here. I hate everyone. All there bourgeoisy designer bullshit. East Coast was much cooler. I mean, at least we had weather.

Tate : I love it when the leaves change.

Violet : Yeah, me, too.

Tate : Why did you move here?

Violet : My dad had an affair. My mom literally caught him in the act.

‘Yeah, why don’t they divorce then????!!‘ I acidentally slipped as i had been leaning into the door to much. oof

Violet: what are you doing here? wait, were u listening in on our conversation?!

“err, maybe?”

Tate: Who’s this?

“I’m Evelyn, Violet’s better sister, epic ghost hunter😼😎“

Tate smiles lightly, violet says, “whatever, come here.” she puts me on her lap while they carry on their conversatio

Tate : That's horrible. If you love someone, you should never hurt them... never.

Violet : Right? I know. And the worst part is that six months earlier, my mom had, like, this brutal miscarriage. The baby was seven months old, and we had to have this macabre funeral. Have you ever seen a baby coffin?

Tate sits near Violet and gently touches her wrist.

Tate : I'm sorry.

Violet : Why are you seeing my dad?

Tate : Don't ask questions you already know the answer to. You're smarter than that.

Violet : Want to listen to Morrissey? He's cool and he's pissy and he hates everyone and everything.

Tate : Got any Kurt Cobain on that thing?

Ben : What are you doing in here?

I turn my head around and see dad by the door

Violet : Just listening to music, Dad.

Ben : You need to leave, Tate. I'm sorry. He shouldn't be in here, and I think you know that... please.

Tate : What's that thing you think I'm afraid of? Fear of rejection?

Ben : Stay away from him.

Violet : Dad, nothing...

Ben : You heard me!

Tate : No! Bullet, bullet, bullet!

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

im in the kitchen with mom eating some sweets and i see a women and a girl.

Vivien : I want you to stay out of my house. Do you understand?

Constance : Can I smoke in here?

Vivien : No. Adelaide, answer me, please.

Addie : Can I pet your dog?

Vivien : No, Adelaide, I want you to stay out of the house. I want you to stop coming in and opening things up and telling me that I'm going to die.

Ben : She said that?

Constance : She says that to everybody. Say you're sorry, Addie.

Addie : No, they did it.

Vivien : Who did it?

Addie : The twins.

Constance : Shh.

Addie : Can I... pet your dog?

Vivien : No, Adelaide, listen to me. I want you to stop coming in here without permission. Am I clear?’

I wisper to mom, ‘why does she always come in the house, i can hear her a lot.’ mom just shrugs

Ben : Vivien.

Vivien : Am I clear?

Addie : Yes.

Vivien : Thank you.

Constance : Time to go, Addie.

Ben : Hallie!

Vivien : Are you okay?

Addie : She shouldn't have done that.

Constance : Sorry about all this. You touch my kid one more time and I will break your goddamn arm.

‘awkward, now thats a TRUE karen’

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

im at school and this bitch is trying to fucking fight me

Violet : I'm not scared of you!

Maria : Should be!

Kids : Fight, fight, fight!

i spit

Maria: little bitch!

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Vivien : Hey. Whoa. Come here. What happened to your face?

“Fell down.”

Vivien : Come here. Sit, sit, sit. Boy or girl?

“Girls. Three of em.””

Vivien : Hope they look worse than you do. You know their names?

“I'm not narking.”

Vivien : You know, we can easily move you to a different school. There are a lot of really good private schools right in this neighborhood.

“I'm not running away. I'm not scared of them. Not afraid of anything.”

Vivien : It's like that time in kindergarten, when you insisted that I bring you home from the slumber party 'cause all the other girls were sleeping without the nightlight on. I know you've gotten the short end of the stick, lately. This move, and...your dad and I haven't exactly been great to be around.

“Why don't you guys get divorced, if you're so miserable?”

Vivien : We still love each other.

“ You could've fooled me. I thought you hated each other. Well, at least you hated him. I don't blame you. He was a shithead. Sorry.”

Vivien : It's okay. He was a shithead. You know, we got a lot of history. Your dad's been through a lot, I've been through a lot. Guess we need each other. What are you scared of?

“You said I'm not scared of anything, so... what scares you?”

Vivien : Lately? Everything. Life will do that to you.

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