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datawyrms · 3 years

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Ectober Day 3: Mutant

heads up for some mild body horror today. And AO3 crosspostin!

Phantom was a constant, frustrating presence. Sam could feel the demon when it chose to lurk closer to her instead of keeping after Tucker, a low whining sound that settled at the back of her jaw and refused to leave. It made it hard to focus on schoolwork, let alone figuring out how to deal with the monster that literally stole half of her soul. She might have enjoyed strange tomes and tales of demons, but she never really thought they actually existed. Half remembered facts and possibilities could make things worse, and the awful hum had her doubting a large portion of what she remembered.

It might be less annoying if Tucker had to suffer this toothache in her brain too, but apparently he didn’t hear the creature that had wrapped itself around them- to them, really. Not unless it spoke. Well, it was more her fault than his. Maybe it was just punishing her for trying a silly prank on her friend that ended up being more real than it should have.

“Hey. You really don’t like that blonde guy in the jacket, huh.”

Great. Think of the devil and it pipes up. “I thought I told you not to talk to me”

“You might have. You don’t like em though, right? How he shoves the smaller kids around and no one cares. Or is it the girl you don’t like, since he’s showing off for her? While she doesn’t even tell him off for picking on weaklings?” The demon’s words invaded her skull, effectively drowning out anything her teacher was saying, barely able to keep a grip on her own train of thought.

Just ignore the thing talking right in your head. Was the class over yet? Tucker being around felt like it helped, a little. Distracted the presence that she couldn’t completely ignore. Her notebook remains completely blank, unable to even distractedly doodle in the margins with the combined forces of the headache and demonic chattering.

“I could give him that telling off, you know. Just a little thing. They’ll never know it was you. It wouldn’t even hurt him.”

The only upside was no matter how quietly she muttered, she had a feeling Phantom could hear just fine. “I’m not setting a demon on Dash. Just give up already.”

“So letting him keep hurting others is better? It could just be an illusion, a temporary little chastising! It’s what I’m good at.”

Sam did not appreciate the fact Phantom apparently was getting better at the whole goading thing, even if it had not even been a full day. She had seen how her and Tucker’s shadow would sometimes linger, but she hadn’t really considered why the demon had been doing that. To watch people? To learn about targets it wanted to attack? She might not be a huge fan of Paulina and her clique, but she didn’t want some monster devouring them. Or whatever Phantom wanted to do to them, it was frustratingly vague about what it even did. All she knew is it could look like a shadow, make things cold, and mimic a human before pulling out too long claws. She just needed time to actually look at the book they used, learn what a demon actually was, seeing as Phantom would keep existing no matter how much she used to believe they didn’t. Was messing with her head something it could do to other people too? Or was that just a special ‘gift’ for herself and Tucker?

“Or maybe you do like watching the others suffer, at least you aren’t the target anymore, right?”

Clutching at her hair did nothing but wrinkle her brow at the slight pain, the voice as loud and insidious as ever. “I don’t care, just be quiet.”

“I can do quiet.” It was snickering again as the pain in her jaw eased, her shadow looking less ominous when caught out of the corner of her eye.

Shit. A demon would be all over word semantics, wouldn’t it. Was that close enough to a ‘yes’ for it to go after Dash? Lousy cheating demon-cat-thing. She didn’t care that it looked strange to sprint out of class the moment the bell rang, she had to find Tucker and track down the demon before it did something.

Phantom moved quickly. Too quickly. Intentionally getting clear before she could call him off. Stupid of her to say anything, she warned Tucker and then just did it herself.

“Sam? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Tucker stopped looking at his PDA as his friend ran up, adjusting his glasses to look over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Opposite problem, I don’t know where it’s gotten off to.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? He’s decided to just go back where he came from for a bit?”

“Not if I might have accidentally set it on Dash.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Still not seeing the problem here.”

“Tucker!”

“What? He’s a jerk! Phantom was entertained by erasers, I don’t think he’s gonna do much to Dash.”

“Or it’s just been playing you and might kill him? It’s a demon Tucker!”

“Still kinda think he’s a cat.”

The goth groaned, grabbing her friend by the wrist as she set off down the fall. “Well then we’re herding cats.”

“Okay, okay um. If he’s after Dash I think they have practice today” he struggled to navigate his PDA with only his thumb, eyes darting to the clock and back. “They’re probably on the field by now?”

Sam picked up speed, ignoring Tucker’s cry to slow down. He could have time to collapse after there wasn’t a demon problem.

The football team was scattered on the grassy field, loud discussions just a reminder of how much the sports teams could get away with thanks to earning awards for the school. She wouldn’t dream of going near such a cringe worthy testosterone zone, certainly not without gagging, but gleaming green eyes lurking under bleachers forced her to ignore her preferences.

“See. A cat.” Tucker commented with a wheeze, pointing out the same eyes Sam had noticed. “Just get him a box or something. Probably...behave…”

Maybe they’d been fast enough? Dash didn’t look too bothered, running down the pitch. The buzzing wasn’t back, and much as she hated it, the fact it wasn’t gave her the unpleasant suspicion the demon was still busy imposing on someone else. “Try calling it back or something if you think that’ll work.”

“Don’t have to bite my head off.” Tucker rolled his eyes, trying to edge closer without attracting too much attention, apparently more wary of jocks than actual hellspawn.

Then Dash failed a catch, earning jeers and other comments. Normal, everyday macho bull. The stumbling after a heavy shoulder check was not.

“Woah! I get you too hard there Dash?” Kwan had his head half down in apology, reaching out to steady their star quarterback.

“Just tripped over a stupid rock or something, forget it.” Dash seemed to shrug it off, unaware of how his shadow twisted, ankles at a horrid misshapen angle. He went down hard after taking a step, yelping from apparently nothing but his own careless step.

“He didn’t actually break his ankles, did he?” Tucker said with a dry swallow, caution thrown to the wind.

“He looks okay?” Not that it meant much. “Phantom’s just a shadow right now, isn’t he?”

“W-What’s going on?” Dash sounded wrong, sputtering and afraid instead of the cocky confidence he normally had.

Kwan was already bending down to help him out, but jerked back. “Dash, what happened to your hand?”

“I don’t know!”

He took another step back, half covering his face. “It looks contagious man- hey coach!”

Sam couldn’t blame him- Dash’s hand looked twisted and grey even from this distance, and it only seemed to get worse, more withered and ashen every time he moved, a foul pallor crawling up his skin in a grotesque creeping advance. He was just wasting away while his friends watched, as he teared up in panic but seemed unable to get back to his feet- not that he would be able to get away from his own body weakening and fading.

“Phantom, get over here and stop that, now.” The words felt heavy in her mouth, admitting that any of this was her fault triggered an awful pain in her heart. “Stop tormenting him.”

“Holy shit.” Tucker moved closer to Sam, looking away from the mess of terror unfolding. Not that it could keep the terrified cries from reaching his ears.

“He’s not even bone yet, such a baby.” His voice came from behind them, the teenager-looking monster taking half a step back as Sam tried to slug him. “Hey, I just did what you wanted!” His green eyes were almost as mocking as the hint of fangs showing in his grin. “Thanks for letting me have my own body though.”

“Nuh uh, Sam wouldn’t want you to kill someone! Not even Dash.” Tucker tried to come to her defense. “You did that on your own.”

“I didn’t kill him. It’s illusion. A fake. Just an hour feeling like his helpless victims.” Phantom snorted, pushing some of his white hair clear of his face. “It’s like that ‘karma’ stuff you guys like so much, but actually effective. Mutate his worldview a little.”

It took a moment to realize the demon was speaking out loud, and not in her head now that he was masquerading as an incredibly weird looking human again. “I don’t care, stop it now.”

“Okay, okay. You’re such a killjoy Sam.” He cracked his knuckles. “One boring big guy back to seeing reality. Happy?”

The panicked chatter had fewer screams, but still plenty of confusion. She only lingered a moment to make sure Dash wasn’t a mockery of a slowly decaying corpse before dragging Tucker and the monster away before there could be any new trouble.

#Danny Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #sam manson #Tucker Foley #demonau #dash baxter #body horror #in which danny gets to be scary

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kafka-ish · 4 years

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the act of being a boy-friend | r.t.

y/n’s plan to make her crush, or ex crush, jealous backfires when she realizes she’s been the jealous one all along.

word count: 6.7k

warnings/included: fluff, losers aren’t friends anymore, fem!reader

a/n: i just rlly love writing love triangles hgeoigso also fake dating tropes ftw🥳

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” Bill sat next to y/n on his worn sofa. The two were watching a movie but he couldn’t put a pin on what was wrong until he noticed y/n wasn’t making her usual commentary. y/n always talked whenever they got together to watch a movie—either letting her petty remarks be known to the rest of the viewers or judging the style choice. And if she wasn’t talking, her face was stuffed full of popcorn or sour candy.

But y/n wasn’t doing either of those things.

She sat in a ball—her bare feet on his couch and her kneecaps digging into her stomach. Her eyes were wide and focused on the screen ahead of them that blared ET. Her nails that were in tip-top condition when she first showed up to Bill’s house, neatly trimmed and polished with a layer of topcoat were now bitten to the bed, ragged and raw.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n said, surprised that she was able to even squeak out the words after zoning out for so long. Something was wrong. But it wasn’t like y/n would tell him. This is what she wanted, right? Just the two of them—Bill’s arm wrapped around her while she pressed into his side while the only light in the room came from his television set.

So why did everything feel so wrong?

Richie and y/n had dated two months prior. Well… ‘dated’. The relationship wasn’t real, but the butterflies whenever Richie called her a dumb pet name or kissed her on the cheek (because kissing on the lips was too far) certainly felt real. And the heartbreak that came from him talking about other girls felt more real than the time y/n got stood up at the eighth-grade dance.

“I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ boyfriend,” Richie protested. His mouth was full of the turkey club sandwich he snagged from a detention buddy and his perfectly straight nose was now scrunched in disgust at the absurd idea his friend had to offer.

“I don’t get why you’re being so pissy about this.” y/n took the sandwich from him, taking a bite of her own and cringing at the taste of mustard that was hidden under the lettuce.

“Grow up.” Richie laughed at y/n who was using a napkin to wipe the tangy aftertaste off her tongue. “You know.” He took another bite. “This sorta shit never ends well.”

“What shit?” y/n prodded. She was still hooked on the idea of getting Richie to play house with her.

“The game where you and I pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend and eventually one of us falls for each other.” Richie was taking an oddly rational approach to y/n’s suggestion. But Richie was logical in a sense where he just knew.

“Who says I’d fall for you?” y/n poked at his shoulder. One of her eyebrows raised because in what world would she let herself catch feelings for Richie Tozier?

In this world. In this lifetime, y/n would let herself fall for one of her best friends, only to be dating her longtime crush.

“How could you not?” Richie smirked but y/n could tell he was just joking. “I’m irresistible, love.” His stupid British-man Voice made yet another appearance and y/n had to refrain from hitting him.

“What about me?” y/n didn’t care whether or not Richie found her attractive, but to say his response never left her mind after that day would be an understatement.

“Well, just look at you.” Richie put the sandwich down. “If it’s anyone, I’ll be having a harder time.”

“So does that mean you’ll go through with it?” A new light hit y/n’s eyes; the sparkle almost blinding Richie who was shaking his head.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this.” He sighed. y/n could tell he was getting annoyed, but y/n was also persistent. If she wanted something, she’d get it; careless about the lengths she’d have to go through for her fantasies to become a truth. Her truth.

“I’m just saying there are benefits for both of us.” y/n’s head tilted to the side, trying to get a better glimpse at Richie now gnawing at his lunch like an animal.

“Benefits?” Richie asked mid-bite.

“Yeah. I can make Bill Denbrough jealous and he’ll fall madly in love with me. Same for you and your ex.”

“Bill Denbrough?” Richie ignored the mention of his ex-girlfriend. He was fifty-percent sure he was already over her, but the other fifty percent of him still stole glances in her direction and kept a copy of her school picture in his wallet. But Bill Denbrough? y/n had a crush on the Bill Denbrough? Richie had to take a moment for his ears to adjust to this staggering news.

Bill Denbrough was a baseball player and Richie’s old childhood friend. Him, Bill, Stan Uris (who was coincidentally also on Derry’s baseball team), Mike Hanlon (who didn’t play baseball but football), Ben Hanscom (he was on the track team), Eddie Kaspbrak, and Beverly Marsh were all a group back in middle school. And Bill and Richie went way back—back to elementary school. It was until the end of freshman year when Stan tried out for baseball (Bill tagged along but made the team anyway) and Mike brought up how he wanted to go out for football next year.

Everyone’s interests started to diverge. Everyone started to diverge. They still went to Mike’s games at the beginning of their sophomore year, but their lunches together only seemed to happen on Wednesday and their afternoon hangouts at the quarry turned into just Richie smoking puffs on the edge; the only company being his portable radio.

Richie befriended y/n sophomore year, around the same time he and his friends fizzed out in January’s crisp air. He met her in his new art class when Derry High released students’ new schedules for the second semester. They’d stayed friends ever since; sharing their lunches and staying after school to finish up on a Social Studies project that wasn’t worth the grade they received. y/n was the one to comfort Richie after his breakup with Vanessa Jennings, but this was the first Richie had ever heard of y/n’s crush on Bill. He didn’t even know she knew Bill.

“You like Bill Denbrough?”

y/n nodded. “So, what do you say? Partner…”

Richie gave in. Although it wasn’t in his interest to get back with Vanessa, he’d still go along with y/n’s scheme.

He’d pick her up at her house before school at seven o’clock sharp—whether it was in his dad’s old Chevy or by foot in his red Converse.

y/n rushed to her front door as soon as she heard a ring. Her hair was half done, and she hadn’t had enough time to do her makeup yet. Luckily, she was already dressed in her school clothes—the denim of her jeans scuffing together when she walked, and her red blouse having to be pulled down every time she rose her arms.

“Morning, sugar.” Richie’s lazy grin and tired eyes never failed to bring a smile on her face even before they started ‘dating’. His hair wasn’t brushed at all, making y/n feel better about her appearance. His body leaned slanted against the doorframe while he waited for her and the white tip of his Converse made its attempt to dig into the porch.

“Sugar?” y/n asked, bemused. She grabbed her keys from the table next to the door, using them to lock the door behind her.

“You look different today.” y/n’s head raised from its once concentrated position from the lock on her door.

“Different how?” She inquired, mostly wondering if this difference was a good or bad thing.

“You look good.” y/n’s cheeks couldn’t help but heat at the compliment. Richie was always calling her cutesy names or saying shit like actually, now that my glasses are on, your ass does look good in those jeans. This should be no different, right?

It only felt different because they were… an item is what y/n convinced herself somewhere along the drive to school. Richie opened the door for her when she got in (and out), but in return, she’d have to let him play his favorite station.

“it’s only courtesy, babe.” Richie shrugged but his eyes kept on the road. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

But two weeks in, y/n found out she liked what this rock ‘n roll guy had to offer. She liked the loud beat of the drum and how the guitar sang in her ears. She liked Richie’s voice that overpowered Elvis’s when he sang along to the lyrics, knowing every word by heart.

“I don’t get why you’re taking me anywhere,” y/n said. She sat in the passenger’s seat of his car like she usually did. “We don’t have to pretend unless we’re, like, in public.” Her voice became small, almost regretting the words that came out of her mouth. Secretly, she hoped Richie wouldn’t turn the 1965 Chevrolet Camaro around.

“It’s not like we aren’t friends.” Richie’s thumb made a tap, tap, tapping sound against the steering wheel. “Friends hang out, right?”

y/n smiled but didn’t answer. It never occurred to her that they weren’t dating. After a while, it just seemed so natural; the hand holding under lunch tables; the way he held her binder for her.

“Is that heavy, sweetheart?” Richie stood next to y/n, intently watching as she struggled with her books in one arm: her other hand turning the combination lock. His gaze never left her figure. He was thoughtful, caring…

“Kind of, but you don’t need to—”

Ignoring y/n, Richie took the books from her hold. He already had books of his own to carry, but he couldn’t let his girlfriend struggle with hers.

“Yeah… friends.” y/n couldn’t seem to face him while uttering the words. Friends. The declaration felt so distant. After all, they had been more than friends—or pretending to be more than friends. But at the end of the day, y/n didn’t know if she wanted to be just friends with Richie Tozier. That was new considering, she never saw Richie as something else. Something that greeted her with flowers before school and held open the door for her. Not until now, no. Richie was always… Richie.

Richie Tozier who was always caught doing his homework last minute in art—because that’s the easiest class, babe. Richie Tozier who liked detention because he could catch up on a few extra minutes of lost beauty sleep. Richie Tozier who stopped bringing his lunch to school because you’re the only sugar I need.

y/n rolled the window down, letting a breeze sweep through her hair and tickle her skin. She needed a distraction because the recent epiphany of the boy next to her being the reason for her heart palpitations was something to need a distraction from.

The sky bled orange and purple—the colors perfectly melted into one another—and y/n wondered if this wasn’t their world after all. Maybe they were being controlled and the puppeteer behind her was playing some sick joke by making her catch feelings for Richie Tozier. y/n didn’t even notice they came to a stop until the click of Richie’s seatbelt grabbed her ears from their trance.

“You comin’?” Richie asked from outside of her side of the car. He was hunched down, his forearm resting on the door to help prop him up.

“Yeah.” y/n swallowed but it hurt. It felt like acid ripped through her esophagus but the only thing she had to drink that day was water. She reached for the door handle, but Richie was faster, already opening the door himself. “Such a gentleman,” y/n snickered.

“Of course.” Richie stayed behind to lock the doors.

“So, you drove me, just a friend, all the way out to the best milkshakes in town?” y/n asked, eyeing the neon-lit sign that read

Hwy 90

The highway to your stomach.

They served other things, but they specialized in milkshakes—something neither Richie nor y/n would care to pass up. But nothing y/n would drive thirty minutes for just for some glorified ice cream in a glass.

“It’s the least I could do.” Richie opened the door for y/n once again. The entrance door to the diner made a jingling sound as the top corner hit the bells which hung from the ceiling.

“The least you could do?” y/n wondered aloud, but Richie wasn’t given the chance to answer her question when a waitress scurried up to them, a stack of menus in one arm and a bundle of silverware in the other. She was taller than y/n but shorter than Richie and she wore black and white bowling shoes to match the wide-legged jeans and polo underneath her apron. “Is it just you two?” She asked sweetly, hiking the pile of menus up higher on her arm.

“Yeah,” Richie said. He stuffed his hands in his back pocket, not knowing where to put them.

The waitress showed them to a small booth that sat in the corner of the brightly lit restaurant. It was too bright for y/n’s eyes under the red, blue, and pink hues that reflected across the shiny white tile, But the corner table the girl had brought them to would do. There was a certain coziness to it, or maybe it was the thought of sitting so close to Richie in a public setting that settled y/n’s eyes.

“I’m Annie. I’ll be your server today,” the girl said as soon as Richie and y/n slid into their respective sides of the red pleather seats. She was fast-talking and all shades of nervousness as her left hand went to grab the number two pencil that fastened the blonde curls that were pinned in a knot on top of her head. “Can I get you anything?”

“A menu would be nice,” y/n said. In front of them sat a table, salt and pepper shakers, and a half-empty Heinz ketchup bottle. Annie had forgotten to give the two a menu.

“My apologies!” She exclaimed, bashful. She handed them each a menu to sift through.

“Don’t sweat it.” Richie winked in her direction and y/n felt herself grow… what was that? Anger? Annie’s pale skin blushed a bright red and y/n could tell it wasn’t the apron making her feel hot.

It took Richie a full-fledged thirty seconds and two skims through the laminated paper for him to decide what he wanted, and it took y/n at least two minutes. “I’ll have a Cookies n Cream. Extra sweet.” Just like you.

y/n was biting her thumb and still reading over the same three flavors that caught her eye while Annie stood patiently waiting for her response. Richie was messing with the saltshaker. His leg found hers under the table and gave it a quick kick.

“Ouch.” She looked up from the menu, averting her attention to the boy in front of her with a fix glare. “Can I have Vanilla? With a cherry on top?”

Annie scribbled down both of their orders in messy writing before making her way across the floor and to the kitchen.

“Vanilla?” Richie laughed and y/n didn’t know what was so funny. “’Cause you’re vanilla?” He covered his mouth with his hand before another fit of laughter would consume the table.

“Shut up.” Swiftly, y/n’s leg propelled into his which caused Richie’s laughs to die down, replaced by a single yelp.

“So…” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled. His nails, which were painted a shade of deep blue by y/n and already chipped, thumped against the surface of the table. y/n could tell whatever he was beginning to suggest wouldn’t be something she liked just from the tone of his voice.

“So?”

“Why Bill?” Oh.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant.

“Why do you like ole Big Bill?” The nickname had slipped out unconsciously. The nickname Richie hadn’t heard in years. The nickname Richie hadn’t said in years. It felt exotic on his lips, but comforting, like a hug from his mom.

Why did she like Bill? y/n asked herself silently. She was gnawing on the inside of her cheek when the question popped up again and the sound of Bill’s voice startled her.

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” What was wrong? Seemingly, everything was perfect. The boy y/n had been crushing on for years was finally in her reach—her grasp, even. Bill’s head turned to face y/n, but his arm stayed tightly coiled around her side. It wasn’t the same as Richie’s possessive hold from two months ago. His hand that played with the fabric of her shirt felt cold. Bill felt cold.

It couldn’t be that she missed Richie, no. Richie was busy—probably swapping spit with one Vanessa Jennings. Vanessa with the light brown hair and curls that framed her not-too-big head ever so perfectly. Vanessa who never needed a tan. Vanessa with the long legs that were probably wrapped—

But it didn’t matter. y/n was busy, too. The Bill Denbrough was at her side and she couldn’t have asked for anything else. She didn’t need anything else. Not when his red flannel hugged her torso because are you could? My parents won’t let me turn up the heat, but I can offer you this. Like a gentleman, he proceeded to strip the flannel from his bodice, leaving him in a white baseball tee.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n looked at Bill then looked down to see the nails she had just painted were now ruined. She looked up again. “Nothing’s wrong,” she assured, not all convincingly.

“You just… yo-you ha-haven’t-t s-s-said anything since you cuh-cuh-walked in.”

“I haven’t?” y/n asked, now picking at the tip of her thumb, hoping what had taken two weeks to grow out would magically regrow in seconds. Saving his voice, Bill only shook his head.

“You nuh-know you can tuh-tell me. Ruh-right?” y/n nodded but what could she tell him?

Sorry I’ve been holding a massive crush on you for years like one holds a cleaver over their head but all of a sudden I’m into this guy I met in my art class who never brushes his hair and writes ‘smoking and smoking hot’ on his college resume.

“I think I’m just tired,” she lied while also feigning a yawn. She covered her mouth when it opened, pretending to be sleepy.

“Do-do you want me to tuh-take you home?” Bill asked. He was just as thoughtful as Richie. He was just as handsome as Richie, maybe even more. So why couldn’t y/n bring herself to like him as much as Richie? His arm left from her side and he used it to pick up the remote, turning the tv off. The worst part was, that when Bill’s hand stopped playing with the fabric of the flannel she wore and his arm left her frame, she didn’t feel a coldness that would usually wash over her when Richie’s arm left her. She felt free.

“I don’t want our afternoon to be spoiled,” y/n said. Her eyebrows furrowed and even though she knew she was lying through her teeth, she wanted to make this work. After all these years of pining for her study partner and favorite Derry High baseball player, she needed for this to work. To see the vision she’d created in her head, just a mere two years ago, collapse in front of her very eyes broke her. But at the same time, she was indifferent. Why should she care about the boy in front of her when the boy she actually wanted was a neighborhood away?

“Tr-trust me. It-it’s not.” Bill shrugged. He stood up and offered y/n his hand which she didn’t take. Instead, she sat there, planted in her same seat, waiting for him to continue. “I can tuh-take you home. And wuh-we can hang out to-tomorrow. You nuh-know when you’re well rested.” All of the sudden, this felt very real. Hanging out with Bill felt real. Being at his house felt real. And though his efforts were valiant, y/n couldn’t accept the offer.

A smile graced her lips and Bill mirrored that. “Yeah, okay. Uh, take me home—please.”

y/n stood up and Bill guided her to the door and to Zach Denbrough’s car as if she hadn’t had the place memorized from when she first came over for a History project they’d been assigned to do.

What did she ever see in him?

“I don’t know.” y/n’s shoulders bopped up and down and even though her figure was hunched, Richie still thought she looked graceful.

“Are you just sayin’ that or did you end up falling in love with little ole me and you can’t think of anything?” Just then, their milkshakes arrived. Both in frosted glass and both with a cherry on top. A feeling of relief swallowed the lump in her throat, or maybe that was the taste of vanilla ice cream now that she was given some time, and a reason, to stall. y/n hated how on-the-nose Richie could be. But she also loved that about him. He could be so, so unexpectedly smart about some things. Things that were right in front of her that she’d never even notice until Richie pointed it out. “Oh, come on.” Richie’s words would’ve sliced through the silence in the air if it weren’t for the chatter of other people and jukebox playing in the background. “Seriously, y/n/n, there’s gotta be something that drew you to him.”

“Well… he’s nice.”

“Okay cut the crap.”

“What?” y/n asked, finding herself annoyed that she not only had to reveal her feelings to a boy she may or may not like but also because he’s nice apparently wasn’t a sufficient enough answer.

“I need an actual answer. Not some bullshit response like he’s nice or he’s funny. Anyone can be nice or funny, y/n.”

“Well, whether you like it or not, Bill is nice. He’s genuine, and cares about the people around him… Selfless.”

Richie was upset at her response. Not because y/n countered his argument in a way he was left speechless but because she was right. Bill was the nice guy and Richie… wasn’t. Bill was the one who looked out for others, making sure they were okay. He was the one who made sure no one got left behind. He was the one everyone looked up to—not Richie, Bill. It was always Bill. Whereas Richie’s just the guy who stands in the background making funny noises only to be told to shut up.

“Yeah… Bill is nice.”

“Don’t tell me you’re my competition, Tozier.” y/n laughed at the oddity of fighting with Richie for the chance to be with Bill.

“Nah,” Richie shook his head, his hair flying in any direction possible. “You’re lucky I’m not, though. You wouldn’t have the chance, babe.”

y/n wanted to eat her heart out at the usage of babe in such an informal setting where they didn’t have to pretend, but the maraschino cherry resting on top of the pile of whipped cream would suffice. “Do you still like Vanessa?” The words tumbled from y/n’s mouth like they were nothing. But embarrassment replaced the blood flowing through her veins once she was aware of what she just said.

“It’s… complicated,” Richie said honestly, not caring that y/n might’ve crossed boundaries just then.

“What’s complicated?” y/n cocked her head like a puppy questioning why its master was making weird hand motions.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, kid.” Richie didn’t mean to come off as condescending, but he did.

“I’m the same age as you.” y/n crossed her arms after pushing away the half-empty, frosted glass in front of her.

Ignoring the red straw in his drink, Richie brought the edge of the glass to his lips and swallowed the thick shake. “Here’s the thing. Vanessa and I go way back.”

“How far is way back if you only dated her for four months?” y/n regretted even bringing her up. Maybe it was different back then, back when the two were actually dating. But now, y/n couldn’t remember a time when someone said the name ‘Richie Tozier’ and her heart didn’t feel like it would explode into a collision of fireworks.

“Four and a half,” Richie corrected with a grin breaking out on his lips. “But I dunno. She’s just special.”

“Special as in…?” y/n probed, and she hated herself for her big mouth that wouldn’t stop applying lemon juice to an obviously open wound.

“I love her.” Richie took another drink of Cookies n Cream, which was more cream than cookies, and y/n sat there in shock. She would be silly to think that after all these weeks, Richie would feel the same way about her. After all, he had a life outside of the fake one they’d construed. Or maybe Richie was just less emotionally confined to these sorts of things. He knew better than to get caught up in a fake relationship. Of course he would.

But knowing Richie still loved his ex, struck something in y/n’s core. And the fact that he was able to say it in such a nonchalant manner—such casualty—only dug deeper at the pit in her stomach.

“You love her?” y/n asked, her mouth still full of the sweet treat he’d pay for later in the evening.

“Love. Loved.” Richie shrugged like this was nothing—well, maybe this was nothing. Maybe y/n was the speck of dust on his shirt and him shrugging was the last of her existence from his being leaving. “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference.” y/n wanted to scream. Luckily, she had enough self-perseverance to keep her composure. She swallowed. “One is past tense, and one is present tense.”

“How ‘bout I put it this way.” Richie set aside his drink so now nothing was blocking his view of y/n. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “I don’t like…” He paused. Revealing that he had no intention in getting back with his once first love would possibly wreck this whole thing. “If Vanessa asked, I’d probably get back with her,” Richie finally said, thinking that must’ve been a suitable way to word the jumble of letters floating around in his head like alphabet soup.

“You would?” y/n asked, feeling like a little kid all over again.

Richie didn’t say anything.

“Do you and her still…”

“Still what?”

“Talk, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” y/n messed with her fingers, pulling at a hangnail she’d know she’d regret doing when it got to later in the night.

“Nah. But don’t worry about it, sweets.” Richie took out his wallet only to be met with a picture of the dreaded girl they’d just been talking about. He gulped. His spit tasted like Oreos and he knew he’d have a stomachache later. Richie thumbed out a ten-dollar bill and five ones to keep Alexander Hamilton company. “Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

It was what she was wondering.

But she’d never let Richie know that. y/n crossed her arms tighter around her torso because right now it felt like Richie could see right through her.

Richie drove her home in the same way Bill would a month from that night. But Richie had a better taste in music and y/n was actually sad to part from him when he left her at her doorstep.

“I’m really sorry I had to cut our time short,” y/n said. She was sorry.

“It’s ff-fine. I al-already sai—”

“Yeah, but I feel awful, Bill.” y/n finally mucked up the courage to look him in the eye. Those blue eyes that’d been searching for hers all afternoon. “This was probably like… the worst first date in the history of first dates.”

“Ih-it’s not so bad. But that duh-depends on how muh-many first dates you’ve been on.” Bill laughed and y/n was trying to figure out what was funny about what he said.

“You’ve been on worse ones?” y/n asked anxiously.

“Luh-let’s just say th-they duh-didn’t get a second date.”

y/n nodded while her hands started to search for the keys in her purse.

“I’ll ss-see you tuh-tomorrow?”

“Or at my funeral. Whichever comes first.” For a moment, the bad thoughts cleared from the surface of y/n’s head. Laughter was the only thing she was aware of for a moment.

“Bye, y/n/n.”

“Bye, Richie,” y/n said bashfully. Her hands were strewn behind her back because she didn’t know what they would do if they weren’t. He was about to walk off—off into the moonlight. And y/n would have to wait until Monday to see him again. It was one day too long because she knew even though the two of them had nothing better to do tomorrow, he’d see it as just friends whereas y/n would see it… differently. “Richie, wait!”

“What?” Richie turned around. His hands sat inside of his front pockets and his posture was slumped, as always.

“Thanks… for tonight.” Richie nodded, and validation from him served as a sick kind of ego booster that egged y/n to keep going. “They really are the best milkshakes in town.”

“Yeah.” Richie’s scratchy voice soothed y/n under the frosty air that came from winters in Maine. y/n stepped closer, her hands still behind her back.

“Did you have a good time?”

“You know I always have a good time when I’m with you.” Richie nudged y/n’s elbow with his but was taken aback by her hands that now gripped his shoulders and how suddenly close she was against him.

y/n kissed him on the cheek, not daring to go for his lips because who’s ever heard of a kiss goodbye on the cheek? Is probably what Stacy Howards would retort back to her after she’d spill the happenings of Saturday night to Derry High’s favorite cheerleader in study hall.

His cheek tasted like salt and Irish Spring—that is, if she knew what Irish Spring tasted like. Which she definitely didn’t.

She didn’t linger long. Richie wished she stayed longer. The kiss was short and sweet and the taste of vanilla on her lips replaced a fraction of his cheek that tasted like body wash and sodium chloride.

“Goodnight,” y/n said, now finally coming to her senses.

“Ye-yeah.” Richie blinked, an alternative to pinching himself in front of the girl he’d been pretending to date. “Night.” But after pretending for so long, Richie couldn’t help but notice the less it felt like pretending.

y/n closed the door behind her with a slam, making sure to lock it in case intruders were in the neighborhood. Now that Bill was gone, her first instinct was to call up Richie—tell him that the date went well, and how he was such a great friend, and thanks for the help. But there were only so many times she could lie to a boy she felt feelings so deeply for. The first, coincidentally, was when Richie had asked how things were going with Bill.

“Make any progress so far?” Richie asked with a face full of ham. They were eating lunch together, per usual. But this time, unlike the many times before, the hand that wasn’t holding his sandwich was rubbing circles on y/n’s small hand that Richie’s swallowed.

“Comme ci comme ça.” y/n smiled to herself at her basic understanding any French One student would master. “It’s going alright…” y/n had never been a natural liar. Whenever she told her parents she had cleaned her room when she, in fact, didn’t, the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and her forearm broke out in an itch she could never quite scratch. But her internal biological workings had given her a break today. There was no itch and her hairs stayed in place from when she styled her hair that morning.

“What’s alright?” Richie questioned, though it sounded more like an interrogation.

“He started talking to me more.”

“He didn’t already talk to you?” Richie’s eyebrow rose because how were you supposed to fall for a guy you barely talked to?

“Well, yeah, he talks to me.” The pad of Richie’s thumb that was drawing slow circles onto y/n’s knuckles turned into lines. Back and forth. Back and forth. “But he used to talk to me about classwork and… you know, like, school.” Richie smiled when she talked. He was happy for his friend. He truly was. But he couldn’t stand the fact that the guy she was talking about wasn’t him—let alone, his former best friend. “And in APUSH, instead of asking about my grade or whatever, he… asked about me.”

“What’d Mister Charming have to say?”

Mister Charming sat two seats away from y/n. But that didn’t stop him from talking to her. Every now and then, Bill would steal glances at the girl from his peripheral vision. Sometimes, if he were feeling bold, he’d turn to face her—but that action only occurred when she was speaking. Today, however, was different. Today he’d talk to her.

Lucky for Bill, the pencil sharpener sat in the back of class—close to where y/n’s seat was.

“Hey.”

y/n looked up from her textbook. She didn’t want to assume the hushed voice was for her—but she had to figure the tap on her shoulder was.

“Hi.” She set her pencil down and folded her arms flat on the desk. “What’s up?” y/n swore she sounded insane. Who says what’s up—

“Th-the sky.” Bill’s smile made cloudy days seem cloudless. “I was wuh-wondering ih—” He swallowed the trail of saliva that gathered in the back of his throat. “If… are yo-you and Ruh-Richie like…”

“No!” y/n said quickly and a little too loudly.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Muh-maybe we cuh-could hang out… This Saturday work?” A stroke of nervousness flitted across his features for a second even though Bill didn’t have anything to be nervous about. The rest of y/n’s words got caught in her throat and she instinctively found herself writing down her number on the scratch piece of paper Mr. Ferguson passed out for notetaking.

“Call me.”

Bill did call. Which was precisely how y/n was stuck frozen in time; her back slanted against the door and her thoughts racing against one another.

She had two options at hand. Call Richie. Find Richie. Or wait it out for tomorrow when Bill’s same car would be in her driveway, waiting for her.

But a third option was already at y/n’s doorstep, contemplating ringing the doorbell.

Richie Tozier stood outside of y/n’s front door, palms sweaty and unusually anxious for confrontation. His pale fingers knotted together. It was their way of stalling from interacting with y/n for as long as possible—or as long as curfew would allow him to.

“Hey.” His stalling attempt was left unsuccessful when y/n opened the door. Ironically, he was just the person she had hoped to run into. “What are… what are you doing?”

“Me?” Richie’s eyebrows stitched together, and he pointed to himself with his index finger.

“You’re the only one here,” y/n deadpanned.

“I was just in the neighborhood, y’know. Doin’ neighborly things.”

“You don’t live in this neighborhood.” Richie feigned laughter but this time y/n didn’t laugh with him. “Seriously, Rich, why are you here? You knew I had my date with Bill and—”

“And what?” His tone grew firm, like it had grabbed her by the hand and urged whatever was eating at her insides out of her.

“And I don’t think you should be here, after I just got done with my date with somebody else!” y/n said with a shaky breath. She could feel her heartbeat almost burning through her chest that rose and fell harshly.

“How was it? Your date?” Richie had calmed down, but y/n didn’t.

“It went bad. Is that what you wanted to hear?” y/n muttered, but it could’ve been mistaken for a yell.

“No, why would you think—hold on. What’s up with you?” Richie’s hands stuffed themselves in his front pocket. His posture was hunched over, and his face now screwed together, trying to understand the girl standing before him.

“I don’t know.” The flame that had once ignited y/n’s lively spirits had died down. “I just. It didn’t go well, that’s all,” y/n said, unable to coax the words she actually wanted to say out of her lips.

“He wasn’t an asshole, was he?” Richie’s tone was protective—nothing y/n would expect from him two months ago when she’d gotten themselves into this mess.

“No! No.” y/n was complicated. First, she’d spew off about how her date was bad and now she was defending said date?

“God, y/n/n, can you just make up your mind?”

She could do that.

“You were right,” y/n declared.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, but Richie could still make out what she was saying.

“Well, I’m always right, toots. I just need context—”

“About the fake dating thing. How eventually one person’s bound to fall for the other…” Her toes curled from under the white Converse she hadn’t had time to slip off. They were worn and the bottoms were yellowing from the number of times she’d matched them to an outfit. “And you don’t look like you’re on your knees, so.”

“So, what?” y/n didn’t notice the smirk edging on the corners of Richie’s lips.

“Tozier, don’t make me say it.”

“You have to, or God knows how long we’ll be standing on this fuckin’ porch,” Richie said patiently. Patient. Richie was never patient—always the one to urge his friends to hurry the fuck up, always the one to ask are we there yet? But this time he was. His figure stood still and ominous, like Santa on Christmas Eve. His breathing held steady in his lungs that had seen more smoke than his mother’s kitchen and his feet stood planted on the concrete stoop of y/n’s house and they’d stay there until she told him the very damned thing she didn’t want to.

“I like you, okay?” y/n knew if she blinked, the dam of tears in her eyes would finally burst and the last thing she wanted was having Richie Tozier see her cry. Well, second to last thing. The first thing on that list had already happened. “Look, I know you’re still in love with Van-Vanessa.” It hurt to say the girl’s name because she wasn’t just a girl, she was Richie’s ex. “But you asked me to say it and I did. So there.”

y/n was about to turn back. Back into her house and back out of this friendship. It was only because Richie laughed that y/n stopped. His chuckle was like music, not the kind that Richie blasted in his car with the windows down, but like a symphony. And if y/n were any less mortified right now, maybe she’d stop to admire it—him—for one second more.

She was about to ask why. Why are you mocking me when I’m so clearly in a vulnerable state right now? Why are you mocking me after I’d just shared something so deep and personal with the likes of you? About the likes of you? But y/n didn’t get the chance when Richie surged forward and pressed a kiss against her lips. She could feel her heart pick up even more at the taste of him: spearmint and tobacco. She thought it’d stabilize itself once his lips left hers, but it didn’t. His taste lingered and at the time it felt permanent, like a red stain on white furniture.

“Like I said. Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you.” His breath hit her face, warm and intoxicating, and y/n could only think that kissing Richie on the lips was way better than kissing him on the cheek.

221 notes · View notes

dreaminae · 3 years

Text

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 8

Hours rolled by as sunlight shifted to moonlight. Friendly competition soon became dangerous as personal tensions rose within the group.

"Rise of Batman!" One person guessed of Jordan's pose.

"Transformers!" A friend playfully argued.

Jordan changes poses in hopes that it might be easier to guess.

With time up, Jordan cracked up as everyone failed to guess his term.

"Okay, what even was that?" Simone giggled.

"Back to the future." Jordan responded in a 'duh' tone as if everyone should've known. "Greatest movie of all time!"

"I've never watched that movie in my life." Simone chuckled, "Plus, the greatest movie of all time is Parasite. Hello!"

"Jordan doesn't do subtitles." J.J laughed. "Like have you met my man?"

Everyone joined in the laughter, but Simone couldn't help but feel like it was strange that she hasn't known a small detail like that.

The game went on as Vanessa took the reigns.

"One word." One person shouted.

"A place. No no, a person." Another one added to list of clues.

"Uh, a painting.... a movie." Layla interjected.

"No, a plane. Wait, what?" One of them fumbled over when Vanessa switched stances.

"You're on a plane."

Giggling, Vanessa changed gestures again.

"Bald. You're bald. A bald eagle." J.J guessed.

"No, not an animal." Vanessa choked up.

"Aye, no cheating." Jordan chuckled as Vanessa spoke.

"C'mon guys." Vanessa encouraged, ignoring Jordan's rules. "You had a poster of him in your room when your ten." She spat out in Asher's direction.

"Samuel L. Jackson!" Asher shouted, jumping up as if he won the lottery.

Liv glanced between the two of them as if they grew two heads. It was stupid how one small detail held a bigger picture.

"Well, you don't get a point for that one." Simone scrutinized, gaining a careless shrug from Vanessa.

The game rolled on, leading to Spencer's turn.

Galloping his feet and twirling his arm, Spencer caused everyone to gather into fits of laughter.

"A cowboy," Jordan shouted first.

"The rodeo." Asher chuckled.

"Wild, wild west." Layla joined in, holding back her laughs.

Adding to his performance, Spencer shook his foot hysterically, while twirling his arm like a madman.

Finally catching on to his charade, Olivia thought back to the night she made Spencer rewatch all her favorite childhood movies. Quoting one of her favorite lines, Spencer had her in hysterics for half an hour. She could still remember him using her belt as a rope, shouting 'There's a snake in my boot'.

"Woody," Olivia muttered with a small smile.

"What?" Her brother asked curiously, not completely hearing her response.

"It's woody!" Olivia laughed, which Spencer replied to with a smirk.

They met each other eyes, before bursting out, "There's a snake in my boot!"

The entire group fell out laughing, excluding Layla.

Spencer returned to his seat grinning like an idiot, but couldn't help but to notice his girlfriend's harsh mood.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Layla nodded lightly. "Guess I am just tired." She muttered, not bothering to look in his direction.

Sensing there was more to it, Spencer left it alone, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his friends.

"Alright, I have the perfect game to play next," Vanessa announced, as she returned from the house with her bottle of booze. "Anyone up for a game of Never Have I Ever. The more you've done the more you drink."

Her announcement soured the mood as Spencer immediately shut down her idea. "Sorry, Ma." Spencer asserted firmly. "Ain't bo drinking happening this weekend."

His eyes flew to Olivia, followed by everyone else's. She rolled her eyes at their dramatics.

"Oh, please. Don't stay sober on my account." Olivia dryly encouraged. After all, this was the first time in weeks she'd been completely sober. With all of her friends within proximity this weekend, drinking wasn't an option for her.

Noting Liv's bitter tone towards her, Vanessa tried to ease the tension. "Sorry, Liv. I forget that you don't drink. That was so insensitive of me." She apologized, placing the booze on the ground.

"It's okay. It's not something I'd expected you to know, so.." Liv shrugged it off, dismissing the subject all together.

"No, liquor. Got it." Vanessa summed up, ignoring Liv's clear implied diss of Vanessa's newness to their group.

Asher rubbed Olivia's thigh, silently asking her to lighten up. Cocking up a brow, she gave him her iconic 'I could careless' glare.

"No drinks doesn't mean no turn-up." J.J cheered. "Introducing the burns of all burns -- jalapeno-infused pickle juice."

"What don't you have in that box man?" Spencer questioned, seriously wondering where J.J randoms items came from.

"Let the burns begin."

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

"Alright, never have I ever walked in on my parents doing it." Simone started the game off.

First victim up, Asher gulped down his first dose of the throat burning juice.

"Oh, God. Asher. No!" Olivia cringed.

"I don't wanna talk it." Asher chuckled at the memory. "RV trip...'08....super weird."

"Oh, you're gonna talk about it." Spencer and Jordan laughed together.

"Not the one to up to Sanoma. How could you not to me?" Vanessa asked playfully, catching Olivia's attention yet again.

Liv couldn't help but wonder just how much did Vanessa know about Asher, that she didn't.

"Cause I was scarred for life," Asher replied, oblivious to the questionable expression of Liv's face.

"Alright, my turn. Never have I ever bought 300 dollars shoes for my one night in Vegas." Simone teased Olivia's bad spending habits.

Tensing up, Liv looked everywhere besides at Layla.

"No cheating. Drink up, Liv." Simone laugh, unaware of the big secret she just revealed.

Layla's eyes narrowed in Liv's direction, fed up with the secrets.

Spencer gawked at his girlffriend, realizing that he and Liv might have to come clean sooner than expected.

"Alright, never have I ever said I love you just to get someone to hook up with me." Vanessa added to game.

All the boys drank besides Spencer.

"Yikes, that was a test that you all failed." Vanessa taunted, "Besides Spencer."

"My bro is a real one. When he says it, he means it." J.J admired, increasing the growing tension between Spencer and his love interest.

In Liv's case, her heart clenched at the mentally, replayed memory of Spencer professing his love for her. She yearned to have a chance just to tell him how she felt, despite the chance he no longer felt the same.

However, in Layla's case, all the times that Spencer claimed to love her we're burning in a flame of betrayal. Because despite that fact she had no solid evidence, that conveyed her worse thought she knew Spencer wasn't being truthful with her.

"You're a lucky one, Layla."

Layla's sneer went unheard by the majority of the group besides the two people who knew the jig was up.

Unaware of the conflicts brewing, J.J continued the game. His hand already pointing at his aimed victim.

"Never have I ever ran naked through a football field."

Admitting the embarrassing memory, Jordan gulped back his shot of pickle juice.

"Jordan! Tell me you didn't!" Simone teased.

"Okay. Okay. I did it. I run through the field, butt naked." Jordan chuckled. "What was it? Freshmen year?"

He and J.J chuckled laughed over the recollection.

"Varsity team stole all of our clothes, thanks to Ash -- over here --- acting like he owned the place during tryouts" Jordan recalled funnily.

"Cause I did." Asher cockily popped his collar. "It's called confidence."

"Confidence. Okay." Jordan playfully mocked. "Whatever you want to call it. Your dumbass stays getting us in trouble."

Asher nodded with a knowing smile. But Vanessa saw nothing funny about it.

"Wow." She gasped seriously. "Okay. Never have I ever crapped all over folks that we're supposed to be my friends."

The laughter stopped, and the smiles dropped in reaction to Vanessa switch up.

"Uh, Vanessa it's alright." Asher tried to jump in before she took things too far.

"It's just jokes." Jordan defended himself, not seeing the harm in messing around.

Vanessa's scornful expression was enough for Jordan to see that she couldn't disagree more.

Maybe it was her role as a protective sister that came into play. Perhaps, it was the jealously towards Vanessa knowing things about Asher that Liv didn't. Or maybe it was simply that Liv didn't feel Vanessa had any right to make presumed assumptions on any of the dynamics within their group when Vanessa barely knew any of them beyond a first-name basis.

Whatever it was, Vanessa's attempt to trash talk her twin was Olivia's last straw. And with that, she felt it was only right to return the favor.

"Hmm, well, Never have I ever spent the summer getting to somebody else's boyfriend a little too much." Liv snapped at Vanessa.

"Liv! What the hell!" Asher choked up, unable to believe that she publically humiliated Vanessa in that manner.

"Yo, Ash. Relax. Let's just play the game." Jordan instructed, trying to ease the tension he caused.

"You wanna play? Fine." Asher groaned. "Never have I ever cheated a concussion protocol to play in a game." He added spitefully.

"What is he talking about?" Simone inquired seriously, over the entire game. "You cheated your concussion protocol? How could you not tell me something like that?"

"You mean like you told me about Princeton?" Jordan asked, trying to guilt trip her right back.

"Wow!" Simone gasped in awe, tossing her blanket aside before storming off.

"Ah, babe, wait! I didn't mean it like that!" Jordan quibbled, following behind Simone. "Baby, wait. Sweetie!"

With the fun atmosphere ruined, the remainder of the group broke off to deal with their own problems.

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

"Can you believe Liv?" Asher groaned, as he and Layla entered the kitchen.

"Not really. Find it hard to believe anyone with all the secrets that's been hidden." Layla replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, clueless.

"Simone's Never Have I Ever!" Layla responded in a duh tone. "When has Olivia ever gone to Vegas."

"Olivia wouldn't lie about going to Vegas. She has no reason to." Asher scoffed.

"You mean like she had no reason to lie about being in Mexico." Layla revealed.

"Liv came to Mexico? When?" Asher asked desperately. "She never told me."

"She went to Mexico to surprise her boyfriend." Layla groaned, annoyed that she had to be the one to tell him. "Only when she got there she saw you and random girl boo'd up." She gestured towards Vanessa as the brunette and J.J entered the room.

"Wait, you and Asher?" J.J asked heartbroken, catching the last part of Layla's statement. "Since when?"

"Where's Olivia now?" Asher requested to know, needing to hear all of this from her.

"I don't think that" Spencer began to suggest against going after Liv, but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"She's down by bonfire," Layla interjected before her boyfriend could continue to shield his side piece from the mess they made.

Bypassing the other three teens, Asher went to find his girlfriend and demand some answers. Meanwhile, Vanessa and J.J left Spencer and Layla to handle their business in private.

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

#3x07 #all american #olivia and spencer #spelivia #olivia baker #spencer and olivia #spencer james #3x06

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 4 years

Text

Restrained

Notes: I have no excuse, I just want a crack fic with smut treated seriously with Tai-chan to step on me the reader while looking down cockily. Humor, angst, fluff, splashed with pining dust :’) Also, I love Linkin Park.

Setting: Reader-chan is a villain and is terrible at being one, cue ongoing physical and snark battles with Tai-chan.

Warnings: Kinky Smut (So here’s what my unacknowledged, vanilla self, has tried to write and nobody has to read it but it’s here in the story: Dirty talk, safe words, possessiveness, edging, talk about inexperience, handcuffs, breeding kink, unsafe sex, Tai’s mean and leaves the reader unattended, but he feels bad afterwards, lube, somehow there’s vanilla, and fluff) and my weak emotions for Good Boys.

……….

You didn’t exactly chose the Villain life, it basically chose you. Cue your dad’s maniacal laughter, your mother’s evil smirks and her ways of teaching you how to go for the jugular since you were five...wasn’t the most heroic childhood. You grew up distant away from others, living life learning how to avoid the law and training heavily to avoid losing a fight, your parents seemed to take that as a green-light and pushed you into the family business. Not like you could fight it, anyway. You were an outcast from day one, and had no close friends.

That being said, you didn’t really like hurting other people or doing typical villainy stuff, but you liked fighting. It gave you a feeling of pushing all of your aggression and bottled up anger onto somebody without killing them, whether it be heroes, vigilantes, or hell, other villains. It wasn’t healthy, but you had nothing else, really.

Cue in the physical form of your recent excitement, the BMI hero who resembled a matryoshka doll and was kinda cute in his big form, no lie. The two of you had met near his agency with Sakura petals floating along with the breeze, and honestly it reminded you of a shojo manga. Well, him minding his own business until he’d seen your pathetic attempts at shoplifting.

He was there for a fight, and at first you overestimated him, thinking that he would go down quickly, but you were wrong. So wrong. You weren’t the best of the villains, but you held your ground, the both of you panting and sweaty and for the first time, you liked fighting against a hero.

Of course being a self-called villain full of dirty tricks up your sleeve, you were good at vanishing, leaving him to shout curses at you, but you didn’t care. From then on out, the two of you would continue ironically meeting in places. It was either you stumbling into him walking around town, eating Takoyaki, or him catching you...not doing anything villainous because you sucked at it, but you know, it’s the thought that counts.

Then the snark happened.

“Where did you get your hero outfit? From the thrift store?” You quipped.

“As in a matter of fact, I did. Saw yer mom there buyin’ old man’s underwear, Sweetheart.”

Kami help you.

“You don’t even know my mom! But yeah, she’d probably do that.” You answered.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, she’s kind of weird.”

You weren’t on the top of the villain lists (or if you were on the list), but you were good at holding your ground, and he seemed to know of you, and thus seemed as if he was always making plans to run into you. You were no better. You had gotten into the habit of causing small trouble around his agency, and your battles were always lengthy, full of snark, and you admit you kind of liked to feel him push you against a brick building, leering down at you before the whole thing started.

Anyway, you’ve always managed to either escape or he’d just throw up his hands and turn and walk away in a frustrated huff, like that one time you fell flat on your face, accidentally dodging his spear-formed punch. It was one time, but he didn’t let you live it down, asking about your nose.

Oddly enough, the other pro-heroes, Miruko and Hawks, would just glance at you, sigh and then leave, muttering something about idiots, Eraserhead would just guide the children away from the two of you with a blank look, and Endeavor would just avoid the two of your messy fights altogether, opting that he ironically wasn’t going to deal with “an old married couple”. Whatever that meant.

It didn’t stop smaller, weaker heroes from trying, though. Trying to be hotshots and bring you in. Of course, they failed. You didn’t listen to Linkin Park while training your ass out in the cold rain just to be brought down by some punks.

Tai-chan, or what you’ve become calling him (thanks for Hawks just silently handing you a paper with his name on it, the absolute Wing-man), noticed. Although he was a hero and didn’t dissuade the young ones from chasing after villains, he did basically say that anybody around his area was his to battle. It melted your heart, a little.

It didn’t stop the two of your bantering and bickering, or sometimes he’d say something, trying to be serious but it comes out as silly, that you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles and he’d get flustered, having a cute blush that you couldn’t help but just eat up.

It was like an odd addiction, you wanted to see more of him, even though it was through unhealthy things such as your fights, you wanted to hear more corny catchphrases, see his eye twitch of annoyance (you were a little shit), and finally, the both of you panting in defeat as he angrily munched on Takoyaki, snarling as you stole one, but let you have it, and so on.

You weren’t sure if you were becoming an unhealthy masochist, or you just really liked him. Perhaps both, because your heart would flutter every time you see him smile around his sidekicks from afar, and then clench because you were so far gone into the life of a villain, you knew that you could never have that life. Be a hero, or have him at least as a friend.

Such sad thoughts did plague you, and it must have shown through, because you would halfheartedly remark to his commentary or sometimes, you just wouldn’t show up for a day. He noticed. He was keen like that, and so to your surprise, he would take your fights more seriously, as if trying to keep you there, not letting you keep running away.

Honestly, it was a little sweet, but your poor heart was getting confused at your little game, and didn’t know how to honestly feel for him.

Of course, everything must come to an end, doesn’t it?

He was leering down at you with a cocky smirk, clothes ruined, showing off whatever he had, a boot stepping onto your chest, rain soaking through his soft hair and splattering your cheeks. An odd feeling came over you. Something you weren’t familiar with, but through your mask, you felt that it was safe to just take a mental picture and burn it forever within your brain.

The fight was different. You were sick all week with the common cold, and when you returned from your little hibernation, weird gossip and rumors were littering about near the FatGum Agency. It was either you left him because you were getting bored, or you had found another hero to play with, or you were finally caught. Whatever it was, he seemed to be excited, relieved(?), and at the same time furious to see you. He demanded where have you been, and feeling increasingly snarky and not sure what to feel with your pining dumbass heart, you retaliated that you were on a vacation from his stupidity.

Yeah, you lost.

“Finally caught ya.” His voice rasped out and hot damn did that not help with the odd searing warmth churning within your guts. The feeling of losing always frightened you, for you weren’t sure whether or not your family would actually give a damn. Yet, you felt elated and calm. It was over, he could finally call the shots, and you could just sit in a jail cell and atone for whatever petty crimes you committed.

“So you have. How’s the weather up there, you giraffe?” You couldn’t help but ask, and the boot on your chest pressed a tiny bit down in annoyance, but he made sure that you weren’t hurting.

“Just fine. I think I stepped in shit, though.”

You couldn’t help it. You began laughing, and to your astonishment, he did, too.

“I missed ya.” He admitted as the both of you calmed down. That surprised you.

“I thought you hated me?”

He gave you a look.

“You’re annoying, and persistent, but not evil. Like a flea, you keep on bouncin’ back up, and I can’t help but not dislike ya.” The words sent a warm tingling up your spine, and you found yourself smiling softly.

“I couldn’t hate you either, you know. You’re the only one,” You swallowed, and the continued as his eyes now focused onto yours. “who I can freely just be myself around with.”

“Whaddya mean?” The tone was softer, now, but ever so curious. Well, it’s a good time as any to release your tragic backstory while in the drizzling rain.

“My parents are both villains, and so I was raised as one. I could never be friends with heroes, or really anybody. I could never dream to be a hero, because of my background. It’s shady from the start, who in their right mind would pick a hero who could just end up being like their parents?”

The words tumbled out of you, feeling the metaphorical weight be lifted off from your chest, as the rain quickened it’s pace. An uncomfortable silence washed over the two of you, and already you were regretting the word vomit that had just spilled out of your mouth. You said too much, you cringed inwardly. You should have just kept your mouth shut, now he’s going to pity you-

“You know what? Fuck it.” Your eyes widened with shock and confusion as the so-called “DadGum” had just said one of the worst bad words.

“Did you just-”

“Your parents can jump into the nearest jail-cell. You,” His eyes glinted with an unknown darkness that set your insides ablaze. “have two options. Either you can platonically become a hero-in-training and live with me, or you can be mine. My hero-in-training, my roommate, my lover, just, mine.” He put an emphasize on the word, and your face flushed despite the chilly autumn rain.

You would be surprised, but you oddly weren’t. Endeavor was right, the two of you were basically an old married couple, bickering and bantering, always staring at each other when one was sure the other wasn’t looking.

“Alright. I’d like us to try...um...being more than...rivals?” You stammered. He cocked an eyebrow.

“I didn’ just pour my heart out for ya so ya can deliver that. Try a lil’ harder.” He scoffed.

“Fine, fine! I..I like you too-”

“Love.”

“Love, you too! I just...I dunno, always wanted to find an excuse to just be around you.”

“That’s sweet, an’ I love ya too, Sugarplum, but ya weren’t here for a whole week-

“I was sick with the common cold!”

“N’ then these shitty rumors started-

“Don’t act as if that’s my fault!”

“So I’m feelin’ a lil’ snappy an’ hungry today, but not for food.” He humored you.

“What does that mean?” You tested the waters, knowing the truth, already. He took his boot off of you, crouching down to give you a predatory smile.

“I won’ touch ya unless ya beg me, but our lil’ cat’n’mouse games have had me riled up, for a very, very long time.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t help but swallow thickly with want as he continued.

“N’ now we’ve discussed our feelin’s, I’m all just wantin’ to tie you to my bed.” He finished as he continued leering at you as if you were the sheep, and him the wolf. You didn’t blame him, you’ve been wanting this, too. It was a little fast paced, but several months of mutual pining would probably do that to you.

“I mean, at least take me out to dinner, first.” You tried to joke. He just shrugged.

“Done.”

“What? I’m a villain! My family are villains!” You tried to argue. He gave a smile mixed in with a humorous look.

“Villain? Last time I checked, starin’ at candy from the hand of a baby, isn’t puttin’ ya on any wanted list. You’re mine, now. Doesn’t matter what yer shitty family thinks. I’ll fight’em, too.” The sentence made your heart swell, feelings of joy and acceptance fluttered within your for the first time in a long time, and you let yourself give a warm smile. His eyes softened, as he helped pull you up to your feet, letting you lean against him as you maintained your balance.

“Alright. We...we can just be a normal couple? How does this even work?” You tried out. He glanced at you.

“Yeah, we’re goin’ to jus’ be a normal couple. Well, you’re gonna train with me, so that we can eventually get ya a license. N’ you’re gonna kick your parent’s asses, not as a villain or a civilian, but as a hero.” He started off softly, but then a more rambunctious grin took over his face at the prospect, and to be honest, you felt like that was a good idea, spitting everything that they’ve taught you, back in their faces as you live life the way you want it, with your partner, of course.

Speaking of which.

“So...we’re just going to continue getting soaked?” You asked, trying to keep yourself from shuddering.

“Yeah, but not in the rain. C’mon, my place.” He gruffed, and you found yourself eagerly nodding.

You weren’t sure how this happened so fast. First you entered his apartment, shivering, then he said that your clothes needed to be washed, aaaaand you were here, on his bed, naked, chilled, and your hands completely cuffed to the post as he was staring at you with such a dirty, hungry look, you felt thrilled by it.

“You want this? Say no an’ we’ll stop.” He offered one last time.

“I want this.” You admitted, and he gave off an almost predatory grin as you watched in amazement of him shucking off his clothes at the pace of the speed of light. Hot damn, he was huge, and beautiful. He grinned at your unabashed stare, crawling towards you on the king-sized bed, opening your legs as he slotted himself between them.

“So pretty, and wet.” He chuckled, giving you little time to think as his thumb swiped at your leaking opening, causing you to gasp.

“I think that I’m gonna eat you out.” Was the only warning you were given as your legs were pulled further apart, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. Your hands jerked against the fuzzy handcuffs as you felt him licking long, hot, and wet stripes from your opening, to your clit. You couldn’t help but mewl as you subconsciously fought against your restraints, thighs trying to clench around him as he gripped them, keeping them apart as he suckled at your clit.

You felt helpless as he was giving you such an intense and dark stare while he was driving you to the edge, gauging your teary-eyed reaction while you bit your lips, hands squeezing onto thin air as you felt yourself getting closer and closer, hips bucking wildly.

Then, he stopped, and you growled into a pitiful whine, causing him to laugh.

“How does it feel, causin’ others to wait?”

You huffed. He seriously couldn’t be that petty!

“Common. Cold.” You let out a hiss, and he gave you an unimpressed stare.

“Are ya givin’ me an attitude?” Was a warning.

“Yeah, I am!” Like a bull, you ran right into that red flag. He grinned, a little darkly. It honestly would’ve scared you a little, if you weren’t so turned on.

“Yer still a lil’ too feisty. As much as I love it, I ‘ave other plans in mind.” He gave a false pout, and your stomach churned with awaited excitement in what he was going to do, next.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to the store. Be good, okay?” He gave your surprised look a dark smirk, and you couldn’t help but growl. The audacity! You loved him, but the audacity! You couldn’t help but look on with bewilderment as he gotten dressed, opening and closing the bedroom door shut as he left you all alone and tied up.

You waited for what seemed forever, pissed off and bored out of your mind as you felt increasingly cold and still wet. You refused to cry. He said he’d be back, didn’t he? Then why do you feel so helpless and lonesome. You felt tears shed with relief and frustration as he finally opened the door to the bedroom, black bag in hand.

“Bastard!” You hissed, and he eyed you with a sympathetic expression mixed in with a little guilt. He got undressed and set the bag next to the two of you, crawling towards you and wiped away the wetness on your cheeks, kissing them and your mouth as he held a gentler expression. He held your chilled frame against his too warm one, nuzzling you as he soothed your ruffled feathers.

“I know, Darlin’. I’ll make it all better for you, I promise.” He kissed your nose as he gathered the blankets to surround your skin, still letting you be exposed, but at least you’ll be a little warmer.

“Do you wanna continue?”

“Yes.” You said without hesitation, feeling relieved after seeing his softer side, and still wanting release, and received a wet, dirty kiss. You moaned into it, feeling his hands rub your breasts, squeezing them rather roughly as he toyed with the nubs with his roughed up hands. He broke away too soon, leaving the two of you panting as his dark, feral look returned as he eyed you.

“Bought you a lil’ somethin’.” He turned away, rummaging through the bag. You eyed it wearily, hoping that he didn’t go too crazy. He pulled out a bottle of strawberry lube, that was good, and...your face flushed.

“Ever used these, before?” He held out the little vibrating bullets for you to see. You shook your head, and he chuckled.

“You’re very vanilla, ain’t you?”

“I-I…” You stuttered, but he kissed your forehead.

“What’s yer safe word?” He asked. Safe word? Why couldn’t the two of you have a normal first time, together? You thought about it.

“Grapes.”

“Why that word?”

“I hate them.” You shrugged.

“Fair enough. Alright, let’s get started.” He said lowly, opening the lube and bullets. He added some of the lube onto the bullets, attaching one bullet to your clit, and the other to your nipple with little pieces of tape. Yeah, you were confused, too, but he didn’t pay you any mind as he set the controller to both bullets to the side, flipping the switch to a low setting.

You let out a choked whimper as your clit was being stimulated, him leaning forward and enjoying the view of your wetness drenching the sheets.

“Such an eager slut.” He bit out almost darkly as his fingers spread open your labia.

“’M notta slut!” You protested, but it was on deaf ears as he had something else in mind. He generously poured a dime amount of lube onto his fingers, grinning down at you as the strawberry scent floated nicely in the room, mixing in with your own scent of arousal. You almost jolted as his lubed up fingers prodded the tight muscle to your vaginal entrance.

“Damn, relax, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He murmured, and through your lust-fogged brain, you wondered if anybody else knew about this side of “Dad-gum”. Although having a rough demeanor, he was gently opening you up, and you felt warmth blossom in your chest at the extra attention that he was giving you, glancing at you from time to time to see if you were alright.

You were more than fine. Five fingers deep, and a higher setting to the mini bullets, you were very close to coming. You rocked your hips in a desperate fashion, hands clenched tightly as the fuzz to the handcuffs prevented you from hurting yourself.

“You gonna cum?” He leered.

“Yes!” You bit out, and your stomach fluttered with excitement mixed with dread at that dark chuckle.

“Not yet.” He switched the vibrator off, and you swore you could hear yourself huff into an annoyed growl. Tears of frustration threatened to spill, and he gave another sympathetic look. You swore that he was mocking you.

“It’s okay, alright? I’ll give you what ya want.” He kissed your eyes, holding your frame close to him as he then rubbed his cheek against yours.

“Patience, Baby. I’m hurtin’ too. Right now, let’s let ya cool down while I mark up this pretty skin of yours, alright?” He kissed you gently, and you were now aware of his own need. It was swollen and looked angry as precum was headily dripping onto the sheets. It twitched as you realized that he knew that you were staring. You licked your lips and he groaned with want.

“See? Hurtin.”. He then continued to do as he promised, kissing you slowly as his hands rubbed against your skin, squeezing here and there as your hands itched to touch him. He paid your whining no heed as he licked at the juncture at your neck, biting it harshly, suckling at the blossoming bruise as his dick twitched at your wanton whine and buck of hips. He kissed the spot gingerly, eyeing your debauched frame with greed as he lowered his mouth to another spot.

“Damned young punks, trying to bring you in. They should know better. You’re in my territory.” Bite. You winced, but keened with need as he lathered the blossoming bruises with gentle kisses.

“Every inch of you is mine.” His eyes glittered almost darkly as he tore away from his work. Oh yes, you were looking nice. He didn’t do too much, but the love bites he imprinted onto your neck and clavicle helped soothe the possessive ache that he had. He knew that you wanted to touch him, too, and was thrilled at the aspect.

“You wanna touch?” He prodded. You keened into a hurried nod, not caring about your pride.

“Please.” What a cute sound, how could he refuse? He relented, and you were on him. It felt as if he was guiding you, letting your hands roam, doing your own squeezing at his stomach, biceps, and pecs while you kissed him feverishly. He basked in your attention, letting you claim your prize for being such a wonderful and patient Sweetheart. Of course he kept you from touching his dick, promising that another time, definitely, so you relented in favoring of returning his little marking game.

He swore he could come untouched by your less rough touch, eyeing him to see if he acknowledged that you were doing a good job, to which he couldn’t help but find that adorable, as well.

“You’re so good for me. So patient and sweet. I’m going to breed you, now. Would you like that?” He hummed, and you swore that your brain stopped and your core clenched with need. One sentence should not sound that hot, but it did.

“Yes. I would like that.” You answered a little too gently, and he hummed with approval, kissing you.

“If you don’t, remember that we don’t hafta do anything that you don’t wanna do. Remember your safe word?” He inquired, you nodded and told him.

“Good. You wanna be bred n’ dirty-talked? I gotcha some Plan B at the store, didn’t really think about condoms. Is that fine?”

You nodded, telling him that you liked both ideas. To be honest, you didn’t mind being marked up in such a way. Not with your pent up lust and feelings of love towards this sadistic Himbo of a man.

“Lie on yer back. I wanna see ya.” He growled out, and you hastily complied.

“Now, tell me, how experienced are ya, really? Not hard to notice that you seem to be learnin’ a few things.” He gave you look in which you couldn’t decipher.

“It’s dumb.”

“No it ain’t. Doesn’t matter to me if ya have history.” He kissed your knee softly as his expression gentled, and you felt yourself relax.

“Your possessiveness says otherwise.” You tried.

“’Cause they’ve been houndin’ around what’s been mine in my territory. Your earlier experiences don’t count. You’re mine, now, and I’m planning on keepin’ it that way.” He smoothed your leg gently despite the dark edge in his tone of words. Really, you feel elated.

“So no judgment?” You inquired.

“None.” He promised. You believed him. Feeling a bit more braver and relaxed, you could trust him with your secrets. You didn’t know a way how to make it less cringe-worthy to admit, but you wanted to tell him, anyway.

“I never really had to time or opportunity.” You found yourself saying, and that’s all he needed to hear.

His eyes flashed into something that you couldn’t decipher, but it didn’t matter. He wan onto you, kissing you slowly yet frequently, retouching every place where he could reach with a more gentle approach.

“Don’t make a kink out of it.” You groaned. He chuckled lowly.

“Why not? Ya get to do this, once.”

“It’s a social construct, and dumb. It’s not like my personality is magically going to change after having something within me.”

“I agree completely, Dearest, but I find it endearin’ and sweet that you’re willing to share this with me.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” You huffed out softly.

“Might be, but my dick’s trying to convince itself to do the thinkin’.”

“Maybe you should let it, then.” You prodded, and he then gave you a dark grin.

“As ya wish. Don’t forget yer safe word.” Was the only warning you had.

You were already loosened and wet, and although his actions resembled of that like an animal as he kissed you with fervor and biting some new areas, he was gentle when he decided that it was time for the main course. Coating himself with a generous amount of cold lube, he hissed as he turned on the bullet vibrators, letting you get stimulated as he breached your vaginal opening, teasing and prodding the muscle as it opened up for him.

You felt the hot, thick head of his dick slip inside with little to no restraint, surprising you as your legs widened further, allowing him to sink in further. He was big, and your walls had to stretch to accommodate him, but you wanted it so damned badly. It hurt so good, you thought. There was a little pain, but the delicious stretch heavily outweighed it, and it reached places that you didn’t know that just needed to be itched.

Hot damn, did you feel stuffed.

“How are ya?” He then asked, and then you realized that he was fully seated inside, and you could tell that he was desperate and hot as you were.

“If you stop this time, I might actually kill you.” Your threat was light, but he swallowed thickly at the intensity of your stare and heated gaze of want.

“Good?”

“Wonderful. Move.” You all but demanded, but he eagerly complied, letting your too-tight walls massage him.

“Fuck! So tight. Might keep ya like this, re-tie ya to my bed. Fuck ya full n’ heavy.” He couldn’t help but growl out the words, being rewarded with the tightened clench of your walls.

“Ya like that? Bein’ my personal cocksleeve? Belly round n’ breasts heavy with milk?” His movements jerked faster as he squeezed your breast that didn’t have the bullet pleasantly buzzing against it. You couldn’t help but nod, arousal dripping onto the sheets as the bullet roughly buzzed against your clit, the both of you feeling the painful aching need for release. His hips were all but snapping to meet your thrusts, balls slapping against your ass, as he engaged you into a filthy kiss as the lewd sounds and scents echoed and filtered within the walls.

Your head felt light and the both of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, he opted to weave his hand into yours, holding it rather almost gently as he moved as if a man possessed. Yours hit first, gripping you and clenching you out of nowhere as you let out his name in a frantic shout, clutching onto him ever so tightly as your head fogged into a sharp relief that left you into tears from finally able to cum. He was no better, hips faltering as he felt you embrace your own orgasm, causing his mind to almost go blank as the movement of his hips bucked into a frantic state. He huffed out, calling out to you as he held onto you tightly, anchoring the both of you into a freight train of orgasmic bliss.

You whimpered out your oversensitive clit and breast, hitting the damned power button to those little bullets as you came down from your high. Taishiro collapsed next to you as the both of you were panting, trying to catch your breaths. You were so drowsy, but you really didn’t want to sleep in your own spunk and messes.

“Dirty.” You whined, and he laughed, kissing you.

“Let’s get cleaned up, then. Know ya don’t wanna, but you could seriously get an UTI if ya don’t use the bathroom.” You agreed, tearing off the bullets, and pulling your weakened state up to use the bathroom as he decided to lazily change the sheets, throwing the used sheets, toys, and the black bag in the corner, somewhere. He would deal with that, later.

He caught you as you stumbled into him from coming out of the bathroom. Gently, he maneuvered you to where you were snuggled up against him, a heavy blanket re-warming up your cooling skin as he hummed, gently playing with your hair as he kissed you softly.

“Ya good?”

“Tired n’ fine.” You mumbled, peeking up to look at him. He smiled gently.

“I looooove you.” He singsonged, earning him your own gentle smile and a soft kiss.

“I love you, too. Go to sleep.” You playfully griped at the last part, and he chuckled in compliance.

…………..

Bonus: Yeah your parents were pissed, but you were a hero, and their opinions didn’t really count, anymore. They knew your potential, so they cleared away from you as you and your fiance moved into a safer city. End.

……….

Here’s my poor attempt at being more versatile in writing kinky smut. Hope it’s not too much cringe, I’m usually too vanilla :’)

#Taishiro Toyomitsu x reader #Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #I mean #I tried #It's fun kinky adult times at the end #Don't @ me #Heed the warning sigils that I've placed #trash but my trash that you're welcomed to #Welcome to my hut

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kirishibi · 4 years

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Nights Like These | Kirishima Ejirou

Summary: You’re having a rough night struggling with your anxiety and your long time crush, Kirishima, helps you through it

Pairing: Kirishima Ejirou x Reader

Warnings: pretty vivid and possibly triggering descriptions of the physical symptoms and racing thoughts that come with an anxiety attack, non-established relationship, pining, lots of Kiri comfort, so much fluff, very very mild cursing, spoilers abt Kirishima’s backstory, (y/n)’s pretty shy in this one oops

**this fic has a lottt of comfort and fluff in it after the first quarter, but if descriptions of anxiety are triggering for you please read with caution and skip over bits if needed**

Word Count: 2.8k

a/n: chef actually writing for once??? unheard of. anyway, i was struggling really hard this week, so i wrote some kiri comfort because who doesn’t want this sweet boi to hold ur hand and tell you everything’s gonna be okay when it feels like the world’s falling apart.i legit wrote this while crying bruv if any one of my fics is a window to my soul its this one

It began with that all-too-familiar pit of dread in your stomach, an uncomfortable rush of adrenaline in your upper chest that you desperately tried to force away. Trembling fingertips, wobbling knees, the sudden urge to crawl out of your own skin. All you did was get tongue-tied while chatting with Bakugou and a few of his friends, but your fumbled words wouldn’t stop echoing through your skull, the angry blond’s mocking gaze replaying over and over again in your mind.

You barely made it to your dorm before shards of your shattered confidence gathered to form a lump in your throat, and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. You threw open the door to your room, hastily swung it shut as you entered. As heavy wood slammed into its frame, a jarring bang echoed throughout the hallway outside. You physically cringed, brows knitting together and nose scrunching in disgust at your own actions.

Damn it, you thought to yourself, everyone heard that, and now they’re all pissed at you.

This happened more times than you could count: one minor mistake drudged up what seemed like hundreds of embarrassing memories from your past, and in a matter of minutes you knew you’d wind up a sobbing mess on your bedroom floor, gasping for air, convinced that the only thing you’re truly good at is being a burden.

There was a dam inside your mind; one that held all of your regrets, self-loathing thoughts, and most embarrassing memories. The multitude of cracks in its foundation threatened to give with every little thing you deemed a screw-up, and in that moment, the dam broke.

A half-complete exam sat before you. Your left leg nervously bounced beneath your desk as a pencil twirled between the nimble fingers of your dominant hand. The eraser of your pencil caught on the surface of your desk mid-twirl, causing the utensil to fling from your grasp. It arched through the air and thumped the boy seated in front of you, Ojiro, right between his shoulder blades. No amount of rambled apologies from you, nor sincere ’it’s okay!’s from the kind-hearted blond could stop that moment from searing itself into your memory. Just another reason you should never leave your room again.

Sinking into an unmade bed, you pulled your knees up to your chest. Feeble arms hugged your legs tightly as you desperately tried to shake the unpleasant thoughts from your own brain. “No,” you pleaded with yourself, “no, (Y/n), you’re not doing this again.” Fingernails dug into soft flesh beneath your school uniform’s knee-high socks, a momentary distraction from the sheer panic swelling inside your chest. Forehead pressed against bent knees, you hoped that if you made yourself small enough, maybe you could disappear entirely.

Accidentally interrupting someone during a conversation, tripping over your own feet while walking down the hall, getting anxious speaking to your redheaded crush and forgetting what you wanted to say altogether.

You couldn’t help but gasp for air, the angry burning of your lungs only worsening with every shallow breath as hot tears trailed down the sides of your face. There was no stopping the sobs that pushed past your lips, nor the self loathing thoughts that racked your brain. You pressed your back firmly against the cool drywall beside your bed with the vain hope that the sudden chill may keep you grounded.

Nearly spitting out your tea as Kaminari cracked a joke during lunch, not realizing you took someone else’s seat in the common room, bumping into an elderly woman on the train, dropping a handful of textbooks in front of your entire class.

A knock on the door momentarily pulled you from what seemed to be an inescapable frenzy of thoughts. You stumbled to your feet, stole a glance in the mirror beside your bed. Reluctant to allow someone else to see your puffy, red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, you forced yourself to speak up, “uh- uhm,” your voice wavered with every word, but you cleared your throat and continued on, “I-I’m sorry, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Aw,” a familiar voice pouted from the other side, muffled by the wall between you, “well, think ya could let me in anyway?” It was Kirishima, the guy you’d been head-over-heels for since the beginning of your freshman year.

You refused to let him see you so disheveled, couldn’t bear the thought of willingly adding another embarrassing moment to your catalogue of painful memories.

“I’m sorry, I- well,” you wanted to lie, to make up an excuse as to why you couldn’t answer the door, but nothing came to mind. “I just can’t talk right now. Do you need something?”

“Yep! It’s really urgent, can’t wait another second!” He eagerly pleaded, and you just couldn’t find the will to say no.

Hastily drying your wet face with creased sleeves and fixing your hair to the best of your ability, you made your way to the door and cautiously inched it open.

The crimson haired boy stood before you with a box of your favorite candy in his hands and a warm smile on his face. His brows were knit together in concern, tender eyes wholly trained on you. He glanced both ways down the vacant hallway to ensure that no one was within earshot before speaking in a hushed tone, “you didn’t seem like yourself in class today. Like, you were quieter than usual, and then Bakugou was a bit of an ass earlier...“ He nodded to the cardboard container in his hands, “I’ve seen you eat this before and it always seems to put a smile on your face, so I thought maybe it could do the same today too.” His grin faltered for a moment, gaze dropping to the floor as if embarrassed by his own words. “It’s stupid, I know, but I had to do somethin’!”

Despite your best efforts, the happy facade you’d forced on for Kirishima fell, and your eyes welled with tears once again. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to swallow the lump crawling up your throat. His gaze shifted from the floor, back up to meet yours, and he nearly dropped the container in his hands at the sight of you so close to crying.

Without a second thought, he threw his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug, “What’s wrong, (Y/n)?” His voice filled with worry, further breaking your heart, “Did I get the wrong kind of candy?”

“N-no,” you whimpered into his shoulder, unable to finish before the words caught in your mouth and tears wet the thin cotton of his shirt . Your arms wrapped around his waist, unconsciously reciprocating his hug. His warmth reminded you of just how long it had been since you’d let someone be so close. Your knees buckled under the weight of your own grief, and before you knew it, Kirishima was scooping you up into his strong arms. He carried you to the comfort of your bed, kicking the door closed as he passed.

“I knew you weren’t okay,” he muttered into your ear, tone much softer than you were used to from the boisterous man. He carefully set you down on your plush mattress, grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, then knelt on the floor before you.

“I’m f-fine,” you forced out, trying to steady your voice but failing horribly, “You can go if you wa-want. I don't want to-”

Kirishima silenced you with a tender palm rested atop your own. “I’m not leaving you, (Y/n). Whatever’s going on, I care about you too much to make you deal with it alone.”

Up until then, you had made it a point to keep your anxiety hidden from your peers. You worried that they would treat you differently if they knew, that they wouldn’t quite understand. But, something about Kirishima told you that he was different, that nothing would change if you opened up to him. Regardless of your fears, the look in his eyes and tender cadence of his voice made you feel safe, like it was okay to be vulnerable.

“I,” your eyes flicked from your lap to meet his worried gaze, “I can’t help but remember everything I’ve done wrong over the years and just hate myself. I hate every mistake, every failure, every moment I did something dumb and didn’t know how to fix it.” Your stomach clenched as yet another sob forced its way past your lips. “I have so many regrets, and I constantly feel like an awful person because of them.”

A calloused thumb brushed along your upper cheek, wiping away the tracks of fallen tears. He nodded along as you vented, as if he understood exactly where you were coming from. Then, when you went silent, he waited for a few beats to ensure you were entirely finished speaking before responding. “I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it, but I used to be someone I’m not proud of either, and, honestly? Sometimes I still don’t like the person I see in the mirror.” He paused for a moment, lips pulled in a thin, contemplative line before continuing, “can you keep a secret?”

You nodded, surprised and mildly confused by his words. Could someone as confident and lovable as Kirishima really struggle with the same anxieties that you did?

He chuckled at the quizzical look you gave him, took a deep breath to steady his own nerves. “So, I actually didn’t look like this back in middle school -- hold up, I think I actually have a picture.” Five fingers flexed around your own, holding you close as his free hand fished into his pants pocket and pulled out a red-cased phone. Within a few seconds, ruby eyes were locked with your own once again, a shy smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Promise not to laugh?”

The redhead’s grin was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile with him. Your worries hadn’t been entirely forgotten, but with every word spoken between you, every passing second with his fingers entwined with your own, a subtle calm began to wash over you. “I’ll try not to,” you responded. That seemed good enough for him, and with only a short moment of hesitation, Kirishima turned the phone’s screen toward you to reveal a photo of himself from a few years before.

Long, black hair framed a round face, slender shoulders slumped and eyes downcast as he stood alone in the courtyard of what you assumed to be his old middle school. Your head cocked to the side, brows furrowed in disbelief as you looked from the photo to the person in front of you. For a moment, you thought he must have been kidding. The muscular, seemingly self-assured man that knelt before you didn’t resemble the boy on his phone in the slightest. “You’re serious? That was you?”

He nodded, clearly amused by your reaction. You wanted to ask what changed, how he pulled such a total one-eighty, but couldn’t find a way to without sounding rude.

He seemed to read your mind, though, and answered your question without hesitation. “I realized that I didn’t like the person I was, and vowed to be better.” He powered off the device in his hand and tossed it aside, attention entirely back to you, thumb unconsciously caressing the back of your hand as he continued. “I’m not telling you this because I think you need to change. Frankly,” his eyes darted to the floor, voice lowering nearly to a whisper, “I, uh, I really like the person you are now.” He cleared his throat, a pink tinge dusting his cheeks as his gaze flicked back up to meet yours. “I’m telling you this because, like I said before, I’m like you in a way. I can’t help but cringe when I remember the way I used to be, and I still worry sometimes that I haven’t actually changed that much.”

“But you have. I mean, you’re a completely different person now.”

“Exactly. Here’s what I’ve learned: if you cringe at something you did in the past, that’s probably because you’ve matured enough to know you were being dumb back then. Being able to look at your past self and recognize your mistakes means you aren’t that person anymore.” His other hand moved to rest atop your knee, as if he wanted to hold you closer but found himself hesitant.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words, yet still one question continued to gnaw at the back of your mind. “But, what if I’m beating myself up something I did recently… like,” your voice lowered in embarrassment, “when I a-accidentally threw that pencil at Ojiro, for example…”

“I promise, you’re the only one who even remembers that.” Kirishima chuckled softly, “you’re sweet for worrying about those little things, but no one worth knowing is gonna judge you off small mistakes. I know how great you are, and so does everyone else in our class. You light up every room you walk into, I swear. It’s like you’ve got a second quirk or somethin’.” You giggled, and his smile only grew wider. “I mean it! How could anyone not fall in love with that laugh?” The boy’s face turned bright red, eyes widening in realization at what he had said, grip tightening around your own. “Shit, I mean- well-” he cut himself off, sharp teeth nervously nibbling on his bottom lip.

His words resonated with you, filled the anxious pit in your stomach with warm butterflies and heated your cheeks with a rosey blush. Still, you convinced yourself he was only embarrassed because his words had come out in a different way than he had meant them. There was no way he actually had feelings for you, you thought. He was clearly just being nice. “I-It’s okay, I know you don’t like me like that. You’re way out of my league, anyway.” You forced a nervous laugh, attempting to comfort him through words that burned as they passed your lips.

You thought he’d relax at what you had said, agree with your comment, and thank you for understanding. Instead, he rose to his feet, a look of bewilderment in his eyes as he pulled you up to stand with him. “Do you really think that?” He questioned, expression twisted in disbelief, hurt by your self-deprecating words. His hands gripped yours tightly as you stood only inches from one another. Heat radiated off of his tan skin, shielding you from the chilly air of your room and prickling your arms with goosebumps.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but you couldn’t be more wrong.” Kirishima lightly tugged you closer, closed the distance between your bodies without a second thought. You allowed your chest to press against his, listening carefully as he continued, “I was afraid of making you uncomfortable or scaring you off, so I didn’t say anything before. But, if that’s really what you think, I’ve gotta set you straight. Truth is, I’m absolutely crazy for you, (Y/n). I mean, you’re cute, and sweet, and witty -- It’s impossible to take my eyes off of you whenever we’re in a room together, and just hearing your voice makes me feel warm all over.”

Calloused fingers released one of your hands, traveled up to caress a now-dry cheek. He cracked another sharp-toothed grin at the realization that you were no longer crying. “Can you do me a favor and tell me next time you start to feel all anxious and stuff again? Regardless of if you like me back, I just want to be there for you, whatever you need. It’s not very manly to fall for a girl, then leave her hangin’ when she needs ya the most.”

An eager nod in agreement was all you could manage for a long moment as you stood entirely awestruck by his confession. All you wanted was to find your voice, to tell him how much his efforts meant to you, but the words refused to come.

So, you did the next best thing.

The box of candies he had brought as a pick-me-up laid forgotten on your bed as tentative fingers gripped Kirishima’s broad shoulders and you rose onto your tiptoes. Without allowing yourself time for hesitation, you pressed pursed lips to a flushed-pink cheek. It wasn’t a large gesture, but in that moment it felt perfect.

You’d never seen Ejirou smile as wide as he did in that moment, strong hands firmly gripping your waist as you pulled away -- as if to make sure that you wouldn’t stray too far from his grasp. “That settles it then! Tomorrow I’m asking you out properly -- with flowers, and chocolates, and way more than just one box of your favorite sweets… but you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That we’ll take care of one another. I’ll never judge you, hurt you, or belittle whatever you’re struggling with, as long as you promise the same to me, okay? From now on ‘til the end of time, I’ve got your back unconditionally, and you’ve got mine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

#kirishima ejirou #no beta we die like men #kirishima #kirishima bnha #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #ejirou kirishima x reader #hurt/comfort #anxiety help #kiri writes #trigger warning: anxiety #fluff #bnha fluff #kiri gives good advice from my therapist #anyway #pls forgive me if this isnt that good #its been months since ive written a full fic #lub u be good to urself #its 4 am forgive me for typos and goodnight

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nightcoremoon · 3 years

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so for the first time I saw batman: the killing joke.

...

it was okay I guess. but massively overrated. I expected some fucking masterpiece of cinema but instead it was just two unrelated short films that were more style and flash than substance.

so first off, barbara's storyline was mediocre. franz wasn't a compelling villain; just a creep, and a trust fund brat. oh wow he's a mafia kid who stole his family's fortune by hacking. if it was the falcone family I'd have cared more but it wasn't so it's just some faceless deathfodder rando. who gives a shit. the whole situation was just a vehicle to shove batman's dick into babs. which kinda fucks over bruce's character here and judging by the timeline kinda makes him a bit of a groomer, yikes. bruce and gordon have known each other since bruce was a young boy and we know that bruce is way older than babs so yeah bruce totally knew her from birth until present day, he literally utilized an active power dynamic to police her crimefighting activities, and he should have fucking known better and stopped her when she kissed him because it would (and did) compromise their professional dynamic, but hey, batdick. and at least barbara recognized that she was behaving emotionally rather than logically when it came to bruce and paris and took the high road out. that would be a serviceable standalone episode to write her on a bus in a serialization but THIS IS A MOVIE. so for a waste of an already short runtime it's like having an appetizer before your meal but instead of something like a crab cake before stuffed flounder, you get greasy onion petals that are more fried batter than onion before getting a well done cheeseburger that's just a glorified hockey puck on a sponge with a kraft single on top. the animation and vocal delivery were excellent of course, not gonna disparage that aspect, so it was well made, but the writing was just not very good. a polished turd. quantic dream must have developed it then because it feels like I watched a david cage production.

so in a 78 minute movie, five of which were the credits, we had a half hour Disney/Pixar short except those bring joy and this brought boring. also there were a lot of shots of her ass tits and underwear that were obnoxiously male-gazey and there was a token gay for the sole purpose of dangling a carrot on a stick for the queers. look kids, warner brothers and dc comics cares about the lgbts! give us money! a waste of time before the real reason why anyone came to see the movie that literally only exists to pad out the runtime to make it a feature length (even though paying a full ticket would've been a total ripoff because, again, IT WAS ONLY 78. even 9 was 81 minutes long and that had an amazing storyline so I forgave it, but 78 minutes? ugh.

also, GOTHAM RAGE??? CRINGE. SO CRINGE.

alright now for the joker segment.

*ahem*

what the fuck? that sucked! *throws tomato*

mark hamill and the joker's lines and the art and the cinematography and the choreography was all good and the plot was cohesive. I get it.

but holy shit was the writing weak as fuck.

okay so some rando breaks the J-ster out of Arkham (already unlikely but ugh whatever), he didn't turn a trick or recruit or anything, he just went to purchase a carnival. or, steal one. but wait, he DID recruit, but he went to get all of the stereotypical Circus Freak™ stereotypes. little people, fat lady, bearded lady, wolf man, strongman, diaper man (wait, what?), and the two headed woman. I guess if you don't really think about why all of them were super readily available in the outskirts between arkham and gotham [i just realized they both end with -am] then it makes enough sense. and then literally right after that HE RECRUITS SOME GUYS TO HELP HIM KIDNAP GORDON. and then strips and photographs barbara. um. ew. you can tell the writer and director were men. Alan Moore is constantly molesting women in his comics and this one trick pony should be put down already. but whatever. the plot is weak and it only gets saved by the flashback sequences.

oh.

oh no.

they're not that great.

he's a failed unfunny comedian who just wants some money to move his wife to a better house so he turns to thievery with the mob. OR YOU COULD JUST STOP GOING TO THE BAR AND BLOWING IT ALL ON BOOZE. I mean the cops knew where to find him after all so clearly he's a repeat customer (or moore is a bad plot writer who relies on convenience and shut the fuck up and don't critically analyze it). alright so he gets wrapped up in the mob to perform a heist on a playing card factory. GET IT, BECAUSE HE'S THE JOKER??? and he uses the moniker of the red hood to retain his anonymity. I expected the mobsters to be working for francisco but no the paris storyline was only cooked up screenplay for passing the runtime so why would they do something clever and interesting and make the film cohesive? that'd be really stupid to make the movie feel more like one movie and not two short films. at least when grindhouse & planet terror did it they advertised themselves as an anthology film. whatever. he falls in the vat of acid which melts the red hood to his face and I gotta say that's actually a pretty good idea to get his face white and his hair green and his lips red. I like that part. oh wait I forgot about the most important part! his wife gets shoved in the refrigerator. OH WOW THAT'S JUST SO COMPELLING AND ORIGINAL, TOTALLY NOT SOMETHING THAT ALREADY HAPPENED TO GREEN LANTERN. TWICE. although she wasn't literally shoved into a literal refrigerator like alex was. rip in frozen pieces you absolute legend of a trope namer. alright, so... so the joker is sad because his wife died. you know, the wife we saw for two minutes and knew the moment we saw her drenched in sepia she was gonna die. and she died offscreen. kyle's gf died and he was fine. gordon's wife died and he was fine. batman's parents both died and he was fine. oh boo hoo someone I love died! fuck off. I am so goddamn sick of people trying to justify their evil with "I was sad once". it's a stupid trope and it's not compelling. the only valid version is doctor doofenshmirtz' evil(er) version in the PF movie because it's hilarious that it's because of a toy train because that's the emotional depth that fridgewomen is treated with in all of these storylines. but at least batman said so. oh yeah, I almost totally forgot, batman's in this movie.

batman punches people and nonlethally takes them out. by suffocating them and letting them get stabbed and throwing them into pits of spikes and HEY WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND! okay let's just ignore that bit and hope that the little people squeezed between the gaps in the spikes and the strongman could breathe in the face mask and the two headed women had KO gas and the fat lady was fat enough that the knives only stabbed her cellulite. it wouldn't be the biggest reach one would have to make in watching this fucking disaster of a plot mess.

now I did like that it was actually batman, and by that I mean he gave a shit about the insane because he recognizes that mental illness is not a cause of dangerous or criminal behavior, just a potential exacerbating factor if it wasn't treated. yeah he brutalized mobsters and crime lords but they were mostly in self defense while gathering intel. he politely asked sal maroni and the sex workers for information and they gave it to him without violence- he manhandled maroni but only after he reached into his pocket for a cigar which could've been a gun. also batman says sex work should be decriminalized if only by not ratting them out to the cops. he was a genuinely good person in the second half of the movie. too bad it was ruined by the shitty first half that made him a borderline groomer.

joker's song was... bad. mark hamill performed his ass off but the song wasn't that good. it just tried to be willy wonka if he was a voyeuristic monster. oh yeah have the only girl character be paralyzed stripped and photographed only to give her father ManPain™. again... the fuck? joker and batman were both gross but, again. male writers. if it was a one-off I could drop a thermian argument because, alright one and done makes sense, especially 1988 standards. but it saturated and soured the entire goddamn movie because of abhorrent pacing decisions. so you're goddamn right I'm gonna bring it up twice! joker was a creep, his plan was dumb, nolan and burton and lord/miller and even ayer had better motivations. YES I AM SAYING THAT JARED LETO'S JOKER HAD BETTER WRITING THAN MARK HAMILL'S JOKER. not nearly to the level of ledger nicholson or galifanakis but hamill didn't have a lot to work with here and I maintain that his performance was amazing; honestly I like his the best out of all of them but just... not here. but I think I can cut some slack to firelord ozai and luke skywalker even if he just phoned it in here which he didn't. writing was just weak. and that's all there is to it. don't anon me and threaten to remove my bones ok?

alright so batman and joker fought and joker got the upper hand and was gonna kill him but it was a prop gun. haha. they had a heart to heart and batman tells joker that he wants to help him get better, even after joker killed robin and molested barbara and traumatized gordon and did countless other travesties, he still said he would help. but joker said no, and told a joke that was good enough to make batman laugh. and then the credits rolled.

...

what a completely pointless and empty ending. oh it's deep and meaningful and poignant? ok sure, I guess, movie, but you didn't earn that. shyamalan did the same thing a dozen times. that doesn't make him any less of a shit writer.

I can understand the concept of batman laughing at joker's joke, humanizing him.

I get it. I see what they tried to do. I respect it.

but this movie was massively overhyped and overrated and I expected it to be so much better than it was. but overall to me it was just another batman cartoon to throw on top of the pile. maybe it was influential to graphic novels. maybe it shaped batman into what he is today. it published right as tim burton's movie and I can respect its place in the pantheon of comic history. but sometimes things that are classic...

aren't that great.

citizen kane, casablanca, the maltese falcon, the treasure of the sierra madre, gone with the wind, singing in the rain, all of them are classic and legendary pieces of art. but they're just not that good, interesting, appealing, watchable, or FUN. they were good at the time- I mean come on we all know them today- but on going back you'd have to really appreciate the finer details to still love the movies today. and this belongs there, in the vault, to be appreciated from afar. influential if dated.

but god am I still disappointed nonetheless.

TL;DR

it was just okay. had some good ideas, had some really bad ideas, had some ugly stuff. overall mediocre. first half 5/10, second half 7/10, overall 6/10.

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quizzical-paradox · 4 years

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OK FUCK THIS NOISE IM GONNA CLASSPECT FUCKIN INVADER ZIM CHARACTERS BECAUSE I CAN AND CRINGE CULTURE IS DEAD. WELCOME TO THE HYPERFIXATION ZONE

(please keep in mind that this is a huge shitpost and isnt meant to be taken seriously at all--)

Zim = Prospit, Bard of Doom

Ok this one should be kinda obvious. Abusing and manipulating the powers of doom and never even benefiting from it in the end? Overall being full of themselves and is ALWAYS confident, no matter what? 100% Zimcore. Need I say more.

Gir = Prospit, Knight of Heart

Never thought I’d see the day when I’d have to classpect GIR of all people. Or, dogs. Or, robots. Anyhow, GIR being a Knight of Heart...kinda works. After all, what the IZ universe mostly lacks is optimism, heart, and overall that kinda positive stuff--which is what Gir brings to the table, along with Minimoose. I’m smart.

Minimoose = Derspit, Witch of Space

I AM CLASSPECTING A FLOATING PURPLE MOOSE. Oh my absolute god. Anyway, I couldn’t decide on a lunar sway for Minimoose, so I just went with Derspit because yes. Anyway, as we can see in ETF, Minimoose CLEARLY has space-manipulating powers. He teleported an ENTIRE PLANET, for god’s sake. He uses it mostly to the advantage of others, but he mostly benefits from it indirectly because Zim is an idiot, so I made him a Witch. For all we know, Minimoose could be god-tier already and noone would bat an eye.

Dib = Derse, Seer of Void

Pretty much any paranormal investigator character could be a Seer of Void, not gonna lie. They're just like that, ya know. Anyway, a sense of wanting to understand the unseen, the unknown, and even the nonexistant is a TOTAL Dib move. Like holy shit that fits way too much.

Gaz = Derse, Rogue of Rage

Gaz. Gaz sweetie. You can’t just hoard all that rage. You gotta leave some for another poor bastard--shit she’s already gone. Fuck. Anyway, I feel like Gaz being Ragebound is...kind of a given. I mean, she already canonically saves up and hoards a bunch of Rage and unleashes it on some other poor utterly fucked soul, so this works. Trust me.

Membrane = Derse, Heir of Space

Okay just hear me out here. He’s well-versed in creation, he does it mostly for the benefit of others, AND he’s pretty space-oriented in the first place. Seriously, everything about the man just SCREAMS Heir of Space. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong. See, you can’t. Checkmate.

Almighty Tallests = Prince(s) of Hope

Welp, the Tallests are Eridan kinnies, who knew. Also YES they share a classpect, they're practically identical, gimme a break. Anyway, the reason I chose Prince of Hope rather than Prince of Space was 1: we already have way too many space players so we dont need two more. And 2: they already destroy hope by being galactic monarchs and conquering planets--plus, they destroy WITH hope by being naive to the consequences of their actions, as seen in ETF. Also, they're MONARCHS, so of course they're princes. Hee hoo I'm smart.

Tak: Derse, Mage of Doom

Yo holy shit, Tak is a Sollux kinnie. ...I need to make a shitpost of that now. Anyway, the reason I made Tak a Doombound mage is because she has CLEARLY, canonically, fought against Doom throughout her backstory (failing the exams and being banished for god knows how long, only to return and fall to Zim after carefully constructing a plan, etc.) and, since Zim is a Doombound Bard, that would make her defeat as his hands a way of her suffering Doom, therefore further securing her Magehood. She could have god-tiered after getting thrown into the sun, for all we know.

(EDIT: I FUCKING FORGOT THE BONUS CHARACTERS SO HERE YA GO:)

Chammy Wamboo = Prospit, Knight of Blood

Okay not gonna lie this one's a big brain move. See, Chammy's one of those shippers, focused on interpersonal relationships, right? Lil Meulin kinnie. So of course, she'd be Bloodbound. Since that's what the IZ universe lacks, then she's a Knight attempting to defend it and bring it to the table. (she shares a classpect with KARKAT OF ALL PEOPLE. WHAT THE FUCK)

Keef = Prospit, Thief of Blood

Yeah Keef being a Hero of Blood is kind of a given anyway. Poor boy, he doesn't MEAN to steal Blood per se, but he ends up doing it anyway because he just wants human connection. Tragic, but still annoying. RIP.

Zib = Derspit, Mage of Rage

Not to toot my own horn, but THIS ONE IS FUCKING BIG BRAIN. See, since Zib's backstory is heavily ambiguous, this one was a challenge. BUT, Zib has been shown to be fighting (and losing) against his own Rage in the form of his Zim half, and eventually suffers the consequences of his Rage by failing and being deserted in the Void. I considered Void for him due to the aforementioned reason, but I think Rage works better.

Pilot Dib = Derse, Thief of Beans Time

Now, this one is less big-brain, but it still works. Since Pilot Dib is suspended in IZ canon, and is widely regarded as the most feral character in that suspended canon, as well as being the most memorable character in the pilot itself, he basically has a monopoly over the entire time he spends on-screen. So, he basically stole the pilot's runtime and became the ULTIMATE DIB. Good for him, good for him.

Concept Dib = Derse, Seer of Mind

Hee hee, Concept Dib is a Terezi kinnie. Anyway, since Concept Dib is basically just Dib if he was Dexter, I feel like he'd be very Mind-oriented. And, being a scientist, he'd be dedicated to understanding his mind, so of course he'd be a Seer.

ANYWAY, that's my stupid fuckin analysis because im dumb and cringe culture is dead. if you see this no you dont <3

#invader zim #homestuck #musings of the conjurer #PLEASE DONT LOOK AT THIS IT'S MY SHAME PLEASE #SOBS #long post

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casper-writes-stuff · 4 years

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The Black Cat Part Four

ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247103/chapters/58845892

This took almost two months to write and I’m honestly so sorry for that but also like... It’s almost 2k words of platonic affection. Part four of my fic trade with @rose-gold-roman!!

General Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns, @emo-disaster, @greenninjagal-blog, @jungle321jungle, @sleepy-sides, @gattonero17, @another-sandersidesblog, @strawberryjellystuff, @remusownsmyuwus, @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit, @gr3ml1n-loser, @main-chive, @kiribakuandcats, @firey-alex, @orca-iguana, @spooky-scary-virgil, @sanderssidesweirdo, @stormypaint, @just-a-little-bit-gay-oops, @dying-is-a-hobby

TBC Taglist: @daring-elm

Waking up to the sun in his face sent a jolt of panic through Patton. There was still school to go to, and the sudden shouldn’t be out when he had to get up.

“Oh, crud!” he cursed, shooting out of his bed and cringing when he looked down at himself.

He didn’t have time to get changed, he’d have to go to school without a binder today. Gosh this was going to suck with his dysphoria, but he was late and he had to get out of the house.

A thought struck him, and Patton looked at his bed, and then under it, and then other places around his room. The window was still closed too, and Patton let out a noise of confusion because if that were the case, how did Salem get out?

Patton’s text tone went off, and he remembered he was supposed to be getting ready dang it! He’d worry about Salem when he wasn’t at risk for detention or his sister getting mad at him!

It was a rush to get ready, and since his sister had already left for the college he was going to have to walk to the school. Heck, he was going to miss so much of his classes.

He pulled out his phone, wincing when he saw it was approaching nine. Missed all of the first period already. Logan might be able to pick him up though? Now was his free period and he usually drove to school.

Decision made, Patton pulled up his text conversation with Logan and hit call, putting his phone on speaker while he struggled to get pants on.

“Patton? Where are you, it’s unlike you to miss school without warning us before it even starts.”

He winced, then let out a yelp when he nearly tripped.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked, clear worry in his tone as Patton sighed.

“Yep! Trying to get my pants on. Will you come pick me up? Morgan’s at college and if I call her-”

“Ah, the dragon witch, yes of course Patton, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

The amount of affection and gratefulness he felt for Logan in that moment nearly overwhelmed Patton to the point of crying.

“Thanks Lo! See you in ten!”

Before Logan could respond, Patton tapped the end call on his phone and finished buttoning up his jeans before he shoved his phone in his pocket.

With a sigh and a frown at his dresser drawer, Patton grabbed his backpack and then made his way to the bathroom to fix his bed-head. The brush caught a couple times in his curly hair, and he hissed in pain (the sound bringing his mind back to Salem for a moment) before he decided the mess was tamed enough.

Patton was at the top of the stairs when he heard the TV on and felt his heart sink into his stomach.

Was his sister home? She had class today, why the heck would she be home?

Making his way downstairs, Patton did his best to creep as quietly as possible. As soon as he was able he peeked around the corner of the wall to see Morgan passed out on the couch, arm thrown over her eyes and mouth hanging open.

There was drool on her mouth, she was still asleep. He’d have to skip breakfast if he wanted to get passed her without waking her up.

His stomach growled in protest at the thought and Patton winced. That’s right… he’d skipped dinner last night too.

With a deep breath, Patton shook off his hunger and tiptoed through the living room. He kept his eyes either on the couch or the door, straining hard to make sure she didn’t wake up until he had his shoes in hand and was out the door.

Sighing in relief, Patton sat on the concrete step and shoved his feet in his shoes, glancing up every few seconds to watch for Logan.

Hearing Logan’s truck pull up made his heart leap into his throat, and he rushed to get in so they could leave faster.

“You’re rushing,” Logan commented while Patton pulled his seatbelt over his chest, wincing at the way it nestled against his chest and making his breasts way more pronounced than he wanted.

“Yeah, Morgan over slept too apparently,” he responded, looking up to eye the door and windows while Logan shifted gears.

“Your sister is infuriatingly hypocritical.”

Patton sagged when Logan finally pulled away and he didn’t see any signs of his sister having woken up.

“Not like I can do anything about it, Lo,” he said, pulling the seatbelt away from his chest and staring out the window while he played with it.

Logan hummed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“My offer for you to stay with me still stands.”

Shaking his head, Patton sighed and let go of the seat belt. He didn’t answer verbally though, not really having the energy to fight with Logan about why he didn’t want to do that.

Silence filled the truck, and Patton settled in to deal with how awkward he felt by pulling on the seatbelt intermittently until Logan pulled into the school parking lot.

Patton didn’t really want to go inside. Didn’t really want to deal with feeling like everyone was going to be staring at his chest.

“If you’d turn around, Patton, you’d see the sweatshirt I’m holding out to you,” Logan said, making Patton do as he narrated.

Holy heck that was a massive hoodie.

“Is that… Is that Teagan’s?” he asked, grabbing the navy fabric and holding it up.

“It was. I borrowed it when he moved out for college,” Logan said, unbuckling his seatbelt before turning off the truck and pulling his keys out of the ignition.

Patton looked at Logan, then raised an eyebrow.

“You stole it from him while he was packing, didn’t you?”

Logan cleared his throat, hiding the embarrassed tint of his cheeks by climbing out of the truck and making Patton giggle at his expense.

“He never used it, I just wanted to re-purpose it in case something like this happened.”

Patton felt his affection from earlier return, and he climbed out of the truck himself before pulling the hoodie over his head and breathing a sigh of relief at how it hung off his frame.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks Lo, I really appreciate it. Where’s Roman? Doesn’t he have a free period this period too?”

Logan scowled, though it was probably because Roman said something stupid to irritate him again rather than actual anger at their friend, and pointed at the building by the stairs.

Following his finger, Patton grinned when he saw Roman sitting in the grass hidden by the shade. He started waving his arm over his head, but when that failed to get his friend’s attention he took off in his direction, trusting Logan to follow behind.

Roman didn’t notice him until he slid across the grass like a baseball player would to base, a yelp escaping him followed soon by groan and a giggle.

“Padre! You made it!” he exclaimed, earning a ‘shut up’ glare from Logan before he looked around to make sure there were no teachers around while Patton was supposed to be in class.

“I did!” Patton shouted just as loudly, making Logan rub the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger.

“You two are impossible. Patton, do you want to get in trouble?” he asked, sitting across from the two while Patton draped himself in Roman’s lap.

“No! We’re in love specs! Do you really want to break up our wonderful chemistry? Become a home wrecker? Are you really that cruel of a man?”

While Roman spoke, he wrapped his arms around Patton and maneuvered him until he was resting against his shoulder. All the while Patton giggled, resting a hand on Roman’s chest and doing his best to give Logan his best impression of a hurt look.

His laughter definitely ruined the effect, but based on the fact that Logan was struggling not to smile, Patton thought it hit home well enough.

“Insufferable, both of you. Patton you need to get to class, you can’t stay here the rest of the period.”

Patton let out a whine and sagged in Roman’s arms, letting out an ‘oof’ when he dropped him back into his lap.

Well, he’d been planning on complaining, but now he was giggling too hard to continue.

Roman seemed to have him covered though, because he pushed Patton off his lap and stood up with gusto to wrap an arm around Logan’s shoulders.

“We’re not skipping,” Logan spoke before Roman had a chance to say his piece, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh come on Lo! We need a break! School in Salida is stressful! One missed day won’t hurt us, consider it a mental health day!”

Patton lifted himself off the ground, shifting until he was sitting cross-legged in the grass as he looked up at Logan and Roman in consideration.

“I- That sounds really nice actually. Morgan-”

“Ugh, Dragon Bitch.”

“-only answers the phone when it’s one of her friends, so I shouldn’t get in trouble for it.”

Logan sighed, looking between the two for a moment before dropping his arms in defeat.

“Alright, fine. Mental health is just as important as physical, skipping it is.”

Roman let out a cheer, though Logan cut him off quickly by clamping his hand over his mouth. Patton started giggling again, getting up from the ground and grabbing his backpack that’d he’d flung off him so he could be dramatic in Roman’s lap.

“I’d ask if you were stupid, but you asked me what the capital of Paris was last week,” Logan hissed, looking at what they could see of the school doors to make sure a teacher wasn’t about to come out and ask what they were doing.

With a roll of his eyes, Roman pulled Logan’s hand off his mouth.

“Relax, specs. The only one here who has a class right now is Patton and he knows how to sweet talk his way out of being in trouble.”

Logan sighed again, rolling his eyes to the sky.

“I don’t have enough patience to deal with you.”

Roman grinned at him, tightening his grip on Logan’s shoulders before suddenly rubbing his knuckles over his hair and earning a yelp.

“We should go to the park! The one by the river so we can watch all the birds!”

Patton watched the two interact, giggles still occasionally bursting out of him.

He just hoped Salem wasn’t at the park today, considering that was the one he’d met him in.

#casper writes #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #moxiety #future moxiety #shapeshifter au #trans male patton #platonic moralogince #platonic logicality #platonic royality #platonic logince #theyre so soft im !!!!!#i ended up having to split this chapter up into two parts #it was supposed to have the park scene too #but i wanna keep the chapter lengths consistent

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creepyalienghost · 3 years

Text

Employee’s help

Sammy pulls the car into a parking space at a near empty motel and killed the Engine. He sat back in his seat, there in the dark for a long while thinking about what had he just done. He had just left his abusive boyfriend with his two children. It had took everything in Sammy to finally escape and it’s taking everything in him not to go back. He couldn’t go back. Going back is deadly. Joey would kill him and the twins if he went back.

Sammy turns his attention behind him. In the back seat the twins were there sleeping peacefully like nothing bad ever happened to them or like they never seen anything bad. Sammy had always tried to protect them when Joey was pissed at them. Sometimes it worked and Joey would beat him instead, sometimes it wouldn’t.

Sammy sighs, turning back around and pulling out the money he stole from his pocket and counted it. It was enough for three nights at lest but he would just need one night here. After counting he reached up and grabbed his mirror, turning it more to him so he could see his horrible reflection. His left eye had become swollen shut and his head had a huge goose egg on the side. Unfortunately Sammy had cut his hair really short as well as dyed it black to disguise himself at the pit stop two hours ago. He hated that he couldn’t hide his eye anymore. It made him feel expose. More vulnerable to the world. He had to though. He couldn’t continue to drive anymore for the night. He needed sleep and the twins needed a real bed to sleep in. He took a breath and stepped out of the car.

As he enters the office of the motel the Employee working there looked up from his book. “Welcome.” He greeted in a southern voice, setting down his book and standing up. He got a clear look at the man now. Seeing that deep purple swollen eye made him felt sorry for the guy. He wondered if who ever was beating on him was still with him. But he stayed professional. “What can I do for you?”

“I-l need a room w-with two beds please?” Sammy replied. He was squeezing his hands in first to help with his nerves of being exposed. “Just for one night.”

The employee nodded and pulled out his customer book. “I need your license sir.” employee asked.

Sammy hesitated for a moment before pulling out his wallet and Handed his license over to him with shaking hands.

The employee took the license and looked over the information needed to fill out the form. He couldn’t help but to notice the photo of Mr. Lawrence. Long Blond hair, bright blue eyes. He thought Sammy looked happy in the photo. It was probably taken before he started getting beat on by whoever.

Once the employee finished the form he handed back Sammy’s license and gave him a pen to sign it as he got him a set of keys. “I’m placing you in room 07.” He stated as he hands him the keys But didn’t tell him it was to watch over him.

“Thanks” Sammy mumbled taking the keys from him and turning away to leave the office. Until the employee stopped him.

“Wait. Sir.” He said. “I’m sorry to ask, I know it’s personal. But I need to know. Are you safe tonight?”

Sammy cringe that’s a question. Of course he had to get into his business, southerns couldn’t help but not to. Sammy sighed turning around to face him and nodded. “Yes sir. I’m fine. I’m safe.” Sammy replied. He could tell the employee thought he was lying. He didn’t blame him. He always said -I’m fine- when asked. It’s what Joey taught him to do. Lie. “I know it sounds like a lie sir, but this time it’s the truth.”

Eventually the employee nodded. “Alright Mr. Lawrence. You can come to me if needed, alright?

Sammy nodded in reply. “Alright sir. Thank you.” With that he left the office, back to his car. He awoke his children long enough to lead them into their room and to the farthest bed from the door. The twins both crawled under the covers and fell back asleep.

Sammy tucked them in nice and snuggled then he stuffed his hand in his pocket, pulling out his cigarettes and lighter as we walked outside. It was cool out with little breeze, which felt nice to him. Sammy sat on the edge of the Sidewalk, pulling out one of the cigarettes and sticking it in his mouth, lighting it. He sits there letting the smoke fill his longs for a long moment then releasing it into the sky. He hated smoking and knew it was slowly killing him. but he couldn’t stop it now. It a habit he got from Joey In their earlier days. Before Joey showed who we really is. He was stupid for trying it. But he had so badly wanted to impress Joey by taking his cigarette from his mouth and trying it. It nearly killed him right then but Joey helped him through the coughing.

He missed that Joey. When he was Kind and sweet, fun and adventurous. Things were good back then, before the studio started to fail. Now he goes to the bar every night and comes home drunk. Sometimes Sammy would have to help him up to his room, other times he would have to pick him up from the police department the night morning from fighting or speeding. And those were the good days where he nor the twins got hurt. He couldn’t take it anymore and now he’s here. Running from the man he use to love.

The office door slammed shut, snapping him back to Reality. He listened as the footsteps grew nearer, hoping that they would just pass him by. He didn’t feel like talking right now. He just wanted to be left alone with his cigarette. Unfortunately though the footsteps stopped right beside him. “Everything alright so far?” The voice of the employee ask.

Sammy huffed out the smoke before looking up at him. “Yes sir. Everything’s good” He turned back away from him.

The employee casually sits down next to him and held out an ice back. “Here. For your eyes”

Sammy’s Gaze at the Ice pack then again at the employee, before signing as he puts out the cigarette and takes the ice pack. “Thank you...” he mumbles placing it over his eye. It immediately felt nice around his eye from the coldness.

“Don’t mention it” the kind employee replied,with a smile. He didn’t ask any personal questions that could be uncomfortable for him to answer but he had to ask one thing. “Are you going back to whoever did that?”

Sammy shook his head. “No.” He replied shortly. “No way I’m dealing with him anymore.” Sammy mumbles dropping his hand with the ice pack in his lap. “I can’t. I can’t go back to him.” He said looking at the employee with a defeated look.

The look he gave makes the employees heart cry for this stranger. “Hey now. Don’t give up, alright.” He encouraged. “You made it this far already. You can make it the rest of the way.”

Sammy shakes his head. “But I don’t know where I’m going. I have to place to go!” He nearly cried and dropped his head in his hands.

The employee reaches out to him out of pity, hesitates for a second then places his hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “Hey. Look. I am looking for some help running this motel. If you want it of course.”

Sammy looked up at him in surprise. “Y-you really m-mean it?..Your give me a job here?” He ask hopeful.

The employee nodded. “I mean it. You can stay at my house for a while with your kids. There’s a school a few minutes away for them. Lots of things to do here.” He added.

Sammy nodded and thought for a little while of the pros and cons. “I’ll take the job.” He replied.

The employee smiled. “Then Your hired. He replied stirring a bit“now go some sleep, ok?. I’ll be needing you for day shift tomorrow.

“Yes boss” Sammy nodded standing up s and dusting his pants off. “Goodnight Mr-uhh-?”

“Norman.” The employee replied looking back at the man. “Norman Polk.”

This time Sammy smiled at him. “Goodnight Norman.

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #norman polk

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chimswae · 4 years

Text

Untold Bonus Part 3

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance, Father!Au

Word Count: 2,324

Author Note: I totally forget to finish update Untold! forgive me ;; This is an old story of mine i think i wrote it in 2017, so please ignore my clicheness and the excessive usage of clicheness~ that makes u cringe haha

You can check full masterlist below :)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Part 3

Although their camel tour ended a little comically, everyone had fun. Hoseok on the other hand was salty the whole day because of the poop incident. As soon as they reached their hotel, Hoseok spent at least two hours in the bathroom alone taking super long bath just to get rid of the smell or whatever he thought it was. He claimed it was to stabilize his mental state after the horrifying event.

Hoseok could be a little too dramatic sometimes, no one could stop that guy.

Leaving Hoseok with his delusional thought, others went to get dinner at nearby restaurant and bought takeaways food for him to savor later on. Enjoying the night city view, the stars sparkle in the night sky.

“I love the city when it shuts down” Jimin whispers.

Yeoul smiled upon hearing that low and raspy voice of his, so enticing. They both strolled the parks pedestrian pathways following others from behind silently. The streets was empty, there were minimal number of people around and most of them were couples. The emptiness was strange and magnificent.

“This is perfect” she squished their hand tighter.

In front of them, there were Taehyung with his cameras and his loyal assistant Kim Namjoon, his eyes fixated on his gadgets. These two guys sometimes stopped in the middle of their walk to take good picture and admiring them afterwards. Or ended up bickering over Vante’s photos.

Maknae and Jin on the other side were busy scanning the city and finding good spots to shop, though there were fewer shops opened past 11. The couple did not give up on whatever they were planning to buy, more like souvenirs.

Taehwan and Yoongi went back earlier than them since they wanted to catch up their sleep, with that they offered to bring Minyeol together. Poor Minyeol being dragged around by the adults. Not to mention, they still had to feed loner Jung Hobi, that guy must be starving.

Yeoul and Jimin took their time to enjoy this night stroll exchanging funny stories or stealing glances. Being with Jimin taught Yeoul how to swoon him with a simple flirt and playful kisses. She was taught well.

“Baby..Let’s ditch them” he tugged on Yeoul arm preventing her to move.

“Are you crazy? They will flip out” raising her eyebrows with a questionable look, she watched Jimin took his phone typing something in his phone.

Jimin grinned “Done. I notify them in our Kakaotalk group,so lets go” he pecked her lips, intertwining their hand together. Yeoul could only smile at his randomness and followed him wherever he wished to go. Anywhere with Jimin is everywhere she wanted to be.

Like a flash the couple disappeared from their vicinity for their own oh-not-so-romantic midnight tour. Jin and Jungkook had so much sense in them that they did not even care when they left unlike someone who insisted of following those two. Another reason how they ended in Morocco anyways, Kim Taehyung really need to stop pursuing different career in his life. The preferred V and Vante for now.

Please don’t turn him into Varazzi or something.

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

There sitting side by side, two pure soul enjoying each other company under dark sky accompanied by the heat from the bonfire across them. Being drawn by the warmth of their body heat, Yeoul snuggled in Jimin’s embrace smiling as he rested his chin on top of her head.

The fire glimmered and gleamed, its warmth drawn people in creating an atmosphere for sharing and making memories. As the night grows, they wished to linger around just a little longer in the warmth and contentment around the fire.

Everything about tonight was perfect.

“Aren’t you tired?” he was the one who first broke the silence between them.

Jimin felt Yeoul shifted a little in his embrace and soon he heard she replied “Tired of what? You? That is impossible.. I prefer to cling onto you for the rest of my life” she teased while wrapping her arm around his waist tighter.

“You cannot be tired of me. My charms are overflowing” he gazed down into her dark orbs. A pair of eyes that never failed to draw him in into this crazy world. World with unspeakable love. World that fills with hope. World that fills with happiness.

If she were to list down her weakness when it came to Jimin, his gaze would definitely on the list. In fact, that’s her utmost weakness.

“Aren’t you being a little over confident right now Park Jimin-ssi?” she ran her thumb over his lips, stroking it softly.

“I don’t mind if it is you I am trying to win over” caressing the back of his hand along Yeoul’s soft cheeks, Jimin closed the gap between them and locking her into a long endearing kiss. A kiss that he wished to give everyday.

Their lips move just perfectly in sync following their rapid heartbeat. He stroke over her back in a light touch that sent tingles in her heart. Every time their lips touched the spark ignite anew. Yeoul placed her palm upon his chest over his heart and felt it strong steady beat. The kiss deepened as she could feel with every stroke of his tongue latching onto hers.

They broke the kiss to catch a deep breath “You are irresistible Park Jimin” Yeoul mumbled against his lips.

“I am sorry. You have to deal with it until death do us part” nuzzling her face, Jimin chuckled softly.

“I don’t mind” this time Yeoul was the one who initiate their second round. Locking her arm around his neck tight, she pulled him down for another kiss. Who knows a kiss with Jimin can be addicting? Well Yeoul had her whole life to deal with it.

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

It was time to get back to reality. Everyone was physically ready to be back in Korea but not mentally. They will be missing Morocco for sure. Nonetheless, thanks to Kim Taehyung unexpected plan Yeoul and Jimin stays in Morocco was extra fun than they expected. Creating new memories with their loved one especially Bangtan, Taehwan and Minyeol, it was beyond perfect.

Boarding the plane on time, everyone got into their seat. First class seat as they said, but Jungkook was stuck with Jin for the whole journey, how unfortunate. He liked his hyung but sometimes he’s a little too bubbly for someone at his age. Considering he is in the hyung line, Jungkook felt he had slowly shifted toward the maknae line.

Welcome aboard Kim Seokjin!

Even before the plane took off, Jin insisted to sit on the aisle and made Jungkook stay in the middle. They had no idea who would take the window seat but scratch that, he hoped that person wouldnt snore that much.

Jungkook eyes wandered at the direction of their seat and noticed the window seat was already occupied. He couldn’t get a full view of the person but he’s sure it was a girl. So, he sank in his seat carefully not to startle the girl whom seemed engross with her reading. She had earphone plugged in both of her ears got him less anxious to sit behind a stranger some more a girl.

The older boy came few minutes later with a triumph grin plastered across his face, more like mocking Jungkook for sitting beside a girl.

Maknae grunted under his breath feeling unfair as he sent death glare at Jin’s way “If it weren’t for you……” Jin dumbfounded look was even annoying.

As the plane was ready for take off, Jungkook stole a glance at the girl beside him. He admired her long eyelashes, and her soft fluffy cheeks which again reminded him Jimin’s puffy one. Her fingers were beautiful and those accessories that she wore fitted perfectly around it. He tore his gaze from examining her feature even more like a creep. Jungkook had no idea why was he so nervous when the girl beside him showed no interest to start a conversation even a simple hi.

You are so stupid Jungkook. He grimaced.

The first hour of the journey, Jungkook had decided to pay all his attention on the games in his phone. His mind sometimes was too wild and he tended to over thinking too. The girl snapped the book closed as she stifled her yawn, stretching her aching muscle.

She loved window seat since she had more space for herself and most importantly she didn’t have to deal with strangers on plane. Engaging into unimportant conversation was one thing, but she hated people who snore in the plane.

Thank god, the two guys beside him seemed normal. She totally forgot to take a glance at the guy beside him and only to realize he’s quite good looking. Not an average look for a man at his age, but his eyes and those visible veins were her weakness.

Reaching out to her hair, she’s about to tie it into a bun but only to lose grip on her red hairband. It landed just few inch from Jungkook’s feet. Jungkook realized that and put away his phone. He bent down to pick the hairband up but at the same time the girl was already reaching for it. Their head were hitting each other, earning a low gasp from both Jungkook and the girl.

Jungkook straightened up with a baffle look “I am so sorry” he apologized earnestly.

The girl took the hairband and rubbed her sore head with a small smile “It is alright. I am sorry for dropping this” their eyes met. The girl grew anxious at the sudden staring battle that they had right now. She touched her face in case she smeared her lipstick.

“I am sorry? Is there something wrong” she inquired.

He was brought back to his sense as he blurted without he realize “Nothing. You are just pretty” Jungkook himself couldn’t believe what’s coming out from his sinful mouth. Clasping his hand over his mouth, he patted it giving it a scold.

The girl blushed upon hearing his compliment as he watched him in horror “W-hat…” she faked a laugh and averted her gaze from Jungkook.

“I mean..I didn’t mean to say that. That is just weird. I am sorry again” He bowed a little hoping he would not scare the girl away. What’s wrong with him anyway? This stupid filthy little mouth gave away compliment so casually especially to a stranger like her.

She shook her head “It is alright. It must be the gravity” she reasoned.

Jungkook bit his lower lips to surpass his chuckle at her silly reply “Urm.. I am Jeon Jungkook by the way” he flashed her a charming smile not trying to win her over but that’s just how he smiled.

The girl was taken aback at first not expecting the guy beside her would introduce himself. This was the start of every conversation, how she hated that. Therefore just to be polite, she replied Jungkook casually “Nari…Son Nari” her eyes gleams.

“Nari.. Nice to meet you Nari-ssi”

“You too Jungkook-ssi”

Interestingly, this Son Nari girl seemed to not recognize him. Not to sound like a superstar, but to be frank everyone knew Bangtan Sonyeondan but for some reason this girl had zero idea of his existence as one of famous idol members.

After exchanging their names, they fell into silence again. Nari exasperated a sigh of relief knowing Jungkook was not a talkative person, so she could enjoy this plane ride with ease.

Little did Jungkook know, Jin was actually faking him being asleep. He heard it all up until those little innocent conversation made by Jungkook introducing himself to some random girl. It was a rare sight but he’s proud of his dongsaeng mustering his courage to talk to opposite sex.

Jungkook stiffened in his seat still contemplating whether to ask questions or kept his mouth shut. Part of him wanted to prolong this conversation as he was curious of this Son Nari person. A soft sigh escaped as his fingers fiddled nervously.

“You should be thanking me later Jeon” a soft voice whispered awfully low and close to his ears causing him to jerk backwards accidentally hitting Nari again.

“I AM SO SORRY AGAIN” he looked over at the confused girl and threw a nasty glare at Jin, grinding his teeth together.

“You seem to have the knack of bumping into others clumsily” she chortled.

The corner of his lips tugged into an embarrass smile “I thought there was a bug on my seat” he lied. Studying her facial more clearly know, he could tell she’s judging him considering how hard she tried to hold back her laughter.

“Actually you kinda remind me of one of my friends.. he is..” Nari couldn’t believe with her own eyes that she actually felt comfortable talking to a stranger exchanging their stories and life which was she rarely did every time in public.

But..Jungkook. Something about him made it feel different.

Was it his smiley face?

Was it his perfectly round eyes?

Was it his giggly side every time he got shy?

It had always been a start of something new. Nari could use new friends.

Previous | Next: Epilogue

#untoldseries #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jimin x oc #jimin idolau #jimin father au #park jimin father au #bts series #jimin parenthood au

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

Caramel Skin Under A Red and Green Cloud - prt 1

Keith wasn't sure if time on Daibazaal moved faster than he remembered, or if it was Lance's presence that seemed to make time fly. Initially, he'd been doubtful of Lance sticking to his word and handing the reins of Kre'el's case over to Shiro. Out of everyone, he understood painfully well what this case had meant to Lance. So when he'd seen Lance rifling though papers in the control room of the Telula, he'd been sure his husband was about to break it to him that all the words that made his heart sore, were just that. Words. Yet, for his sake, Lance organised everything he could for Shiro. He transferred the information he had on each planet that he and Coran had thought plausible to a "liberated" holopad, then gone about meticulously transcribing all his notes to go along with them. As well as his own personal statement over what had happened since he first set foot on the outpost. With Shiro now knowing almost all there was to know, the white lies in the reports were minimal, covering that he could conceive and carry a child. The quintant that Lance passed it all over to Shiro, Keith had very nearly cried. Lance had worked himself to the bone to make sure the report was perfect. Working himself into a panic attack so severe he fainted, then woke up so disoriented that he'd tried to go, Keith, almost the same tick as his eyes opening.

Keith was proud of his boyfriend for trying to stay on Daibazaal for him. There was plenty of work that needed to be done when it came to transcribing prisoner documents and releasing those who'd only committed petty crimes. Lance was still unable to venture through the palace without his mask half up. The scents sometimes so severe that his eyes would water, but not once did he complain about it. Keith had thought things were all going smoothly until a few quintant before they were supposed to head to join Lance's family for Christmas.

Having kept the evidence case under his bed until it was finally time to turn the evidence over to the Blades for processing, Keith hadn't realised Lance had found it. Not until he'd returned from a quintant filled with Blade meetings which Lance wasn't allowed to be privy to... a stupid and pointless call. It wasn't like Lance was going to be leaking information about the secret workings of Daibazaal to anyone. His husband was nervous about returning home, Keith had accidentally overheard him fighting with some family member on his comms, which had set Lance on edge. Assuming the nerves would ebb once they actually made it to Earth, Keith swept it under the rug. Allowing Lance to have his privacy. But that's the thing about hindsight. It was a quiznakking bitch when you saw the picture in full.

Boarding the Telula, Keith had dropped by to say "hi" to everyone in the bridge, thinking Lance would be pouring over plans for Christmas. He'd written up a full plan on dealing with family, something Keith had thought a joke until they were all forced to memorise every plan and strategy, and the bug-out plan on the off chance that quiznak hit the fan. With Lance not there, Keith headed down to their room. Lance's sensitive nose and Keith's instincts didn't want the Cuban man too close to Galra. Lance couldn't control his scent. Keith knew if something happened, he was more likely to attack completely unprovoked, so he'd suggested that they simply sleep on the Telula where the doors could be locked down.

The first sign that something was wrong, was Lance not being in their bed. His boots were near the end of it, the blankets half pulled to the floor, with the hint of coppery-iron in the air that could only be blood. Daehra had been on the bridge, if something had happened to Lance, she would have informed him. Backtracking to their bathroom, he let himself inside. Curled up in the corner for the shower, Lance was crying his eyes out. Blood running down to stain the water pink from his nose, vomit clogging the drain. Not even noticing as Keith turned the freezing cold water off, Keith lifted his boyfriend out the shower when he failed to rouse at Keith clicking his fingers near Lance's ear. As he lifted his lover, a sodden bag of pills spilled to the shower floor. In their wet and mushy state, there was no way to tell how many of the obnoxiously yellow pills Lance had taken... In the tick that followed, Keith had no words for the range of emotions he felt. The happiness he'd allowed into his life was snuffed out in an instant. Lance having betrayed his trust so thoroughly disgusted him. Carrying his boyfriend out the bathroom and to their bed, he wasn't as gentle as he should have been. Hurt that Lance hadn't told him he was struggling with the compulsion to dose himself up. The moment Lance hit the bed, his body began to seize. Panic mode setting in as he bolted to the bridge to retrieve Daehra, the voice in the back of his head yelling at him for his carelessness.

Lance was still seizing when they got back. Dimly he found himself mentally aware of the fact the seizure has already passed the dobosh mark... when the two dobosh mark passed to the three, the seizure finally slowed. Lance's body shaking and twitching as the fit passed. His husband had promised he'd talk to him if the cravings got too much. If his mind got too much. They'd spent that morning running through "forbidden" topics at Lance's family home... He didn't understand how things had gone from shaky to a drugged up mess... Under Daehra's guidance, Lance was moved to the medbay. Keith left unable to do anything but bury his face in his hands and wait until Lance woke up.

He knew him waiting a full four vargas before he woke. Tired blue eyes were quick to form tears. Reaching for Keith's hand, Keith pulled away. All the half-Galra could do was mumble "What happened?" Pushing himself up to sit, Lance pinched the bridge of his nose "It's not what... no. It is..." "You swore you were quitting!" "I was! I am..." "So why did you steal that bag from evidence?! God. Do you have any idea how upset I am right now?! I spent all day in meetings while you were getting high" "I threw them up... I... I threw them up. The moment I swallowed I knew it wasn't what I wanted..." Like that made anything better "You could have died!" "I know!" "Then why did you do it?!" Drawing his knees up, Lance shrunk back against the bed. Daehra had the back of the examination bed raised in case Lance vomited in his sleep "I... I..." "You what?" "I had a breakdown. I wanted to go find you for lunch and I got lost..." "That's an excuse" "I know..." "Then tell me what happened? How long have you had those tablets?!" Lance cringed "Lance!" "A few quintants. I found the case by accident when looking for my socks that Kosmo stole. Before I knew what I was doing, I took them. I didn't know how to return them, so I kept them hidden. It was after Great-Aunt Sara fought with mum..." "What fight?" "Sara's very religious... She said that if "that gay son of yours doesn't repent his sins, won't be allowed in heaven". I basically started another fight in the family. So when I saw the pills I took them. Then today... I got lost in the palace. Two of the guard tried to help, but one of them sniffed at me while the other grabbed my arm and I lost it. I think... I think I broke the nose of the one who grabbed me. It wasn't even hard... I was back there again with Klearo on top of me and then holding me down... his men telling me how good I feel... and I... I wanted to die... I could feel them on my skin again... but... when I swallowed the pills... I felt so sick with guilt that I made myself throw up... I don't remember what happened after that. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking stupid. Klearo is dead. He's dead... but his voice. I... I could feel him breathing across my neck... I'm stressing so badly about going home... that I don't even know if I should go anymore. I know I want to go... but... I'm so fucking anxious now that it's so close. I want it to perfect... because I want to show off the man I love"

Keith let out a sigh as he sat back in the chair, legs slightly bent and back arched against the cold metal as he stared up at the lights above. This was the first bad relapse Lance had had in a while. He was talking with a therapist, not one of the two Coran had found, but one that was based on Erathus and had been recommended by one of the girls at the club. Therapy wasn't an instant cure, but if Lance had finally found someone to talk to... why... why did this have to happen? "Why couldn't you tell me this? You could have sent me a message?" "That my family is stupid?" "No. Yes. That this woman was being stupid" Family had always been hugely important to Lance. That'd pretty much been obvious since day one. If Keith coming home for Christmas as Lance's boyfriend was going to cause issues, then... "Because I didn't think it would affect me like it did... and I was so fucking ashamed. I'm still coming off that red stuff..." "Would you have told me? If I hadn't found you in the shower?" Doey eyes looked into his, sniffling, Lance nodded "Tonight... when you came back. Honesty... if I'm not honest I can't get over this. The tick the pills went down my throat... I wanted to call you and tell you what I'd done" "You tampered with evidence" Lance nodded sadly "I know..." "And you scared the fuck out of me again" "I'm sorry" "I wish that this hadn't happened, but you did try to throw it up. You know you've done the wrong thing. You admitted it. Did you take anything else from the case?" "No... just the uppers... I wanted to forget him" "Anything I say won't be as bad as what you're telling yourself right now. I'm not happy... really not happy. Even if you're ashamed, you need to tell me things like this. There are other ways to deal with it"

The dam broke, Lance dissolving into soft sobs "Did you hurt yourself? Other than the pills? Did you cut yourself?" "N-no... I... I tried to wash him off my skin... but... I couldn't... couldn't..." Lance was working himself too much. Softening his approach, the half-Galra moved from his chair to up to sit on the edge of the bed, gathering Lance up against him "You scared me. Your seizure passed after three doboshes. Do you know how bad that is for a seizure?" "I'm sorry!" "Shhh. Ok. Ok..." "I was fucking stupid... I knew that taking them was a bad idea... but I've been on pills for so long now... and we still can't... the red..." They'd tried dipping the red uppers in Lance's daily doses again, only for Lance's symptoms to become almost unbearable, especially around the others. Hunk, Shay, and Pidge had stayed around for the first movement after Lance passed the case over, in an attempt to fix bridges... only it wasn't so easy to fix bridges when Lance's arse was being kicked by withdrawal. In the end, for the sake of his mental and physical health, they upped the dose again to the half-strength with the plan to drop it once Christmas had passed and Lance was safely setting up his new outpost venture. Sighing against Lance's hair, his boyfriend smelt pained and exhausted "How about I take you back to our room? I need to shower and change, then we can watch something in your holopad for a bit?" "You're being too nice to me. I fucked up" "I'm being nice too because I love you, and because you were honest. I'm choosing to believe you when you say you were going to tell me you'd taken those pills, so your reward for being honest is rest and cuddles" Lance shook his head "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve that" "As your husband, I'm saying we're having cuddles" "You've worked all day... it's not fair on you" "It's not fair that when I get home from a full day of Galra bullshit, that I want cuddles from my man?" "Cuddles from me... I'm not that good" Keeping one arm around Lance's back, Keith slid the other under his boyfriend's legs, lifting him to his chest "Trust me. I've been waiting all day to come home to you. The shitfest that Galra politics is... Nope. I'm out. Too many people still want to shoot each other" Lance stiffened in his hold, Keith quick to realise why "Not that they could. We have blaster jammers in place in the main hall. It's just frustrating that we're trying to transition to peace and people still want to resort to weapons" "You're safe there... aren't you?" "Yeah, babe. Mum and Kosmo make sure of that. Where is he?" "He's not here" Kosmo had gotten good at reading Lance's moods before Keith could. Sometimes when it looked to the wolf that Lance was going too far into his own head, Kosmo would take it upon himself to distract Lance with sloppy kisses and yips "Then he'll probably be with mum, or Acxa... anyway, you need to rest while I shower"

Careful to lay Lance in bed this time, the bottom sheet was suspiciously fresh, with Daehra's scent lingering in the air. Tucking Lance in, Lance shyly asked for his shirt. Handing him over the thin garment, Lance was like a cat with catnip as he rubbed his face against the shirt in the search of scent. Keith might have done similar with more than one of Lance's shirts before, but there was something so much hotter when Lance was happily sighing up a storm over his scent. Feeling his dick twitch, he scolded himself, practically fleeing the room before it could progress... but fuck if it didn't tickle his pride to have such a cute husband who found safety and satisfaction in something as small as his scent.

* Other than the slight bump in the road, and Lance nearly having a panic attack, that he worked himself out of, while they were readying to leave Daibazaal, the trip to Cuba went smoothly. Taking both their ships for the sleeping spaces, Keith's ship was grav hooked to the bottom of Lance's. On the bridge Lucteal, Daehra, Zak and Tobias watched in anticipation as they exited the wormhole and got to lay eyes on Earth for the very first time in their lives. Resisting the urge to smirk at their looks of awe, Keith confirmed their arrival with the Galaxy Garrison and their flight plan to Cuba, Daehra letting out a long gasp as they flew over the complex that had once been their school "Yeah. It's pretty impressive now. Most of what you see has been added on since Earth was liberated from the Galra. This is where Lance and I both went to school, with the other Paladins"

Keith hoped that didn't sound too insulting. The complex was much larger than the outcrop of buildings on Daehra's planet, possibly even larger than the cave system her race called home. Having been to Earth before, his team was down in his ship more than likely getting into mischief. Veronica had told Acxa to go ahead, that she'd been working for Christmas, but Keith knew that was a lie due to the fact Shiro had told him that the three of them would swing by on Christmas Day. Shiro and Curtis had other plans with Curtis's family, but Veronica would be staying on until the New Year. Being Acxa, she'd wanted to stay with girlfriend so was slightly confused as to why she'd been sent to Earth with everyone else.

"Keith technically got kicked out after he attacked a teacher and left him half-blind" Piping up from the passenger chair to the left, Lance's input wasn't welcome. Shooting his husband a glare, Lance shrugged "My whole career there I had to be continually told how I was never any good, and how I failed in comparison to you. I think I'm allowed the jab" "Then take the jab at them, not me. It's not my fault they recognised my incredible talent" "Yeah, yeah. You don't need to rub it in. What's the ETA on Cuba?" "Around... 10 doboshes..." "So direct. Don't crash, I'm going to freshen up" "Babe, don't you want to see the look on your team's faces?" "I do... but that was me trying to covertly say I'm going to give mum the heads up" "Oh..." "Yeah. Don't crash"

Leaving them in the bridge felt weird. Lance was nervous, but he said he wanted to face his fears. Yet, it kind of felt to Keith like he was running from looking at his family's farm. With the coordinates pre-entered, it was an easy flight. Daehra's face nearly pressed against the window as they flew over the ocean, even Lucteal looked impressed. Zak was trying to ignore it all, talking to Tobias, but Keith was sure that was an act too. If he hadn't wanted to come to Earth, then he could have gone to Erathus with Th'al who was anxious to get back to work. The view of the ocean barely lasted a few moments before they were back over land and Keith's attention was on a vast sea of red. When Lance had planted the junipers in an attempt to call Allura back to him, he hadn't quite pictured the fields after fields surrounding the modest two-story house. The sight was more than breathtaking and frankly verging on intimidating. In front of the house was a large white tent of some sort, with a huge white "X" assumedly painted to indicate landing around the side of the property where the barn wasn't "Is this Leandro's home?!" "Yeah... but remember, it's Lance while he's here" "It's breathtaking..." Scars of occupation still littered the grounds near the house. Deep chasms that had been rocky holes when Keith's had left Lance behind, were now bathed green with new life. Still, below them, people were starting to gather at the sight of the ship's shadowing the sky. From down the stairs, Keith heard Lance yelling up "Land already! You're scaring the aunties!" Rolling his eyes at the thought of Lance's judgmental aunts, Keith lowered his ship down to sit on the "X", then spent the next few ticks finding the system to release the grav hooks. Maybe showing off just a little, he looped the Telula around to show the scale of Lance's farm off, before settling her down on the side closer to the tent "Alright. Are we ready?" "Yes..." Squeaking her reply out, Keith really wished Lance was there to comfort Daehra "Don't worry, his mother likes you. From what Lance has said, you're home free" "I do worry. I hope his mother likes her gift. I have no idea how to navigate your Earth traditions" "Most of the attention should be on Lance, so you have nothing to worry about. Plus, the actual day is in a few days, by then you're going to be a pro at this... and you have your powers. You'll probably understand everything happening around us better than we do" "I do hope Lean-Lance has waited for us"

Lance had waited. Standing at the top of the loading ramp, his husband was a ball of nerves practically jumping on Keith as soon as he was in pouncing range. Clinging to his arm, Lance nodded at his team "Don't forget, we can leave if something goes wrong. Don't take anything they say too personally, and... Most of all, I want you to know I'm proud of all of you. It doesn't matter what they say, I'm proud to call you my team. Mami's waiting for us in the marquee. She got a bit carried away cooking and organising everything, so don't be overwhelmed at how many people are there and how much food there is" Lance's team still looked pretty nervous. Moving his left hand, Keith intertwined his fingers between Lance's "You, ready babe?" "Yeah..." They'd settled on saying they were dating, and letting Lance's immediate family know they'd gotten married. It was more than Keith ever could have hoped for, which was why his heart was racing as cool beads of sweat rolled down his back. Facing a horde of rabid Galra would have been easier, or at least that was how it felt.

Making it down the ramp in one piece, his team was waiting for them in the shadow of the Telula. Acxa looked as if she was ready to faint, summing up Keith's fears perfectly "If they can accept me, they can accept you" Pursing her lips together, Acxa shifted her weight. In a very "Shiro" move, Lance reached out and patted Acxa's shoulder "Seriously. The only family members that matter will be cool with it. Rachel will probably tease you, but she'll save most of that for me. Especially after we tell them we're dating. You've got nothing to be embarrassed over. You make V happy, and that's the main thing. We should head over before Mami comes to get us. Her feet aren't that great, no matter what she says"

Lance was trying so hard to make them all comfortable, despite his anxieties. His husband was adorable in the way he rested his head against Keith's shoulder as they walked over to marquee. Inside were what seemed to be at least three dozen people. Kids were running around playing and screaming. Adults sipping drinks as they gossiped and laughed. All of it cutting to silence the instant Lance led them in...

"Mijo!"

Calling out them, Lance's mother came rushing over. Whispers erupting as some stared at the way Lance was clinging to Keith's arm "Let me see my boys! Both of you are so handsome. Lance, you need your hair trimmed now that it's long enough to do something with. And Keith, as handsome as ever. Oh, I'm so happy you're both home for Christmas..." Hugging them both tightly, Lance's mother kissed both their cheeks before releasing them and moving back to examine their teams "Please excuse this old lady from Cuba. Lance did tell me all your names. Acxa, sweetheart it's wonderful to see you again. I know Veronica is sorry she's not here with you, but you're part of this family now too. And Daehra, and Lucteal... then we have Tobias. Zak, Zethrid and Ezor... right? It's all so wonderful to have you here" Lance snorted, he had mentioned his mother had an abundant fondness for Christmas "As if you'd forget, mami. Where's papi?" "He and Marco will be down shortly. They're breaking apart the ice for the drinks" "Ahh... mami, can we talk to you?" "Why? What's wrong? Has something happened again?"

Shaking his head Lance moved to try and hide as the savage older woman came up behind his mother "What's going on here? Who is this boy our Lance clings too?" Keith could see the mental resolve it took not to snap at the woman as Lance's mother turned to face her "Sara, this is Lance's..." "I'm his friend, Keith" Holding out his free hand, the woman openly sniffed at it "Right. Well, that's enough of that" Letting his hand drop when the wisened woman didn't take it, Lance tugged him back as he moved to stand in front of him "This is Keith. Keith is my boyfriend" Lance's aunt Sara looked as if she was about to faint as she staggered back from them "No... No, did you know?" Lance's mother gave a thin smile. The poor woman probably thought she'd have time to ease the great aunt into the idea of Lance loving another man. Keith really didn't understand religion, even before his trip to outer space, but just because he didn't understand it didn't mean that he didn't understand how important it was to others "Lance? Our Lance? Running away from home to fight aliens wasn't enough for you? You had to bring... one of them home?" "Keith is only half-alien. He's also my boyfriend. We've been together for months now"

Sara dropped her drink, Spanish pouring out her mouth as Lance glared at her. Tugging Lance's hand, Keith felt as if he was ruining the family reunion "Babe?" "Ignore her" "If she doesn't want me here..." "Don't want you here! What did you do to our Lance?! He was normal before..." Growling, Lance pulled Keith tight. His boyfriend's mum trying to calm the hysterical woman down "Babe..." "No. This isn't ok. I don't care that you don't speak Spanish, I do and this is unacceptable..."

Clearing his throat, Lance drew the attention from his great aunt Sara. Keith's heart in his throat, knowing that anything was likely to come out of Lance's mouth now that he was annoyed "... You're all going to find out eventually, but Keith is my husband. We're married. I know that goes against what some of you believe, but he's been my best friend for years and it kind of just happened. The people with me are our teams. They're all family to me. Now, I know you're all going to gossip, so don't you dare start making trouble for any of our friends. They have saved me and all of us here on Earth more than once. Lisa, are you able to get everyone set up while Keith and I head up to the house?"

One of the women who'd been fussing over the kids shot him a thumbs up... which logically meant that she had to be Lisa. Mumbling something prayer like under her breath, Lance's mother shooed them towards the open flap the marquee with the two other wrinkled bags coming to fuss over Sara. Keith knew he shouldn't think of her that way, being Lance's relation and all, but they had no right prying their noses into something as personal as their relationship... Hold up... Lance just told them all that they were married... They'd gone from thinking they were having Lance home, to knowing Lance was running around with his husband and space... without having told any of them that he was married or having invited them to the wedding ... Oh quiznak... Acxa would call Veronica... if Veronica told Shiro and found out Shiro knew... A shudder of sympathy ran up Keith's spine as they quickly followed Lance's mother.

Stopping a few metres from tents opening, Lance's mother turned to them "You shouldn't let her get to you like that, mijo. You know everyone will be talking about you and Keith now. Keith, I'm sorry. Some of the others can be quite narrow-minded..." Lance pulled Keith up to him like he was a safety blanket as he tried to interrupt his mother "Mami..." Lance's mother steamrolled on "And married. My goodness... Why did you not tell me?" Lance was growing tense, scent starting to change. If Lance could up to his whole family for him, Keith could stand up to Lance's mother "I'm sorry. I... ugh... we didn't know we were actually getting married at the time. And now I've shown up here after marrying you son, but I promise I won't let him down or hurt him. He means the world to me, and while we were married by accident, I wouldn't change it. He's amazing. He's smart, and funny, and way too caring... and I love him" Lance's mother sighed as she fished her tea towel out her apron, giving it a small flick before wiping her hands "Heavens give me strength. I don't know how someone gets married by accident, but if anyone was going to, it was the pair of you. We'd better head up to tell your father before someone else does..."

Staring up towards the farmhouse, Lance held him back as his mother strode on "Babe?" Shaking his head, Lance sighed "Sorry. She made me so mad when she dismissed you like that. Like, she doesn't even know you. She can't just... I was supposed to tell mami and papi about it before everyone else... I quiznakked it all up" "You might have gone about it in the wrong order, but you made me feel really happy when you stood up for me" "Why wouldn't I stand up for you? I'm your husband and you're the love of my life... we'd better head up. Dios... mami's probably going to have told papi by now..." "We can say it was a slip of the tongue... If you want?" Lance held him tighter "No! No. We decided we would tell them. And I want to say you're my husband... I just didn't expect it to be so soon" "They'd probably have caught on eventually. We should head up, I don't want to make a bad impression in front of your rather" "Papi... Papi will love you. He's not as loud as mami, but that doesn't mean anything bad. He's worked hard all his life and it's just him" "I married you without asking..." "You married me without me knowing either. It'll be fine. I'll get to show you the house..."

Lance had shown him the house before. And he'd carried a drunk Lance home more than once after the immediate death of Allura. His husband probably didn't even remember "That'd be nice" "Yeah. Rachel is in my old room. So we'll have to be stealthy" Releasing his hold, Lance took up his hand, striding towards the house as he pulled him along "Our stealthy? Or actually stealthy?" "There's no air vents, so super stealthy? She hears all" "I'll have to remember that" "She's also probably going to try and flirt with you..." "Flirt with me?" Why would anyone be flirting with him? He was just... Keith? "Yep. Don't let her suck you in. And don't let her start talking to you. She'll never shut up" "What about Marco?" "Oh, he's cool. I can picture you two standing there watching the crowd with a drink in your hands, exchanging the occasional "yep" as you do" "Babe, are you sure this ok?" Turning back to him, Lance shot him a smile that went straight to his heart "I've got no idea, but it's all going to be ok if you're here" "I've got your back babe" "I know" Keith really wasn't ready for this... and it definitely wasn't his back that he was worried about.

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joonyverse · 5 years

Text

too close. - Suho (EXO) (oneshot)

A/N: this series is totally based on real-life experience. a story that seems cliche? but i can assure you this is really what happened in my life, although i dramatized it more, but hence explained the first person point of view.

Summary: what are we? we are too close for friends, too distant for lover. you are so close yet so far. we both know there’s something between us, but what is it? are you entirely sure that you’re letting her go? or are you slowly coming back... to her?

Genre: angst, fluff, slowburn (kinda)

Warning: bad english, grammar mistakes, some curses here and there, slight trigger warning

Suho x Readers

oneshot

I... I truly don’t know where it first started. Was it during the mid semester examination? Or was it during the first day of new semester? Or was it somewhere along the timeline and I just... didn’t realize? Or was it me on denial?

I don’t even know what even caused it. I don’t know how. I’m the notorious y/n. Focused on my study is all i care about. Lover? I’m passed that.

But somehow. Somehow. That one message from you that evening makes me feel... so important. Makes me feel like I could take on the world. Makes me feel like the feeling of being alive is blooming back inside my heart that has been long filled with emptiness and monochrome memories.

And suddenly that one message from you, it makes my heart beats again. It makes me found a new motivation. A motivation that has long gone, now coming back, all because of you? A feeling that’s been so long since I last felt it, suddenly I’m going through it again? All because of you?

[Suho], 20:20: y/n, i may seem desperate, but can you help me? Pls!

[y/n], 20:25: sure! What can I help you with?

[Suho], 20:26: for our economy class, can you help me with this thing about distribution? I still can’t get the hang of it somehow

[y/n], 20:27: lmao, can you believe it? The smart great suho! Part of the notorious exo gang! Asking for my help! But sure, sending you the notes!

[Suho], 20:28: GREAT! THANKS Y/N!!!

Perhaps it’s the way I know how nice you are? Perhaps it’s how I found you adorable at the time? But really, I didn’t mean to fall this deep into it.

There I feel you. Staring at me. I can’t see it for sure, but I can feel your eyes burning into the back of my head. And honestly speaking, I’m beyond nervous to even look back. My brain is somehow more focused into thinking how do I engage a conversation with you, rather than into the test itself.

An idea popped out in my head. Stupid. I truly know the answer to the question, to hell with, I even answered it. But for the sake of engaging a conversation, I turned my head back, into your way. Low key feeling afraid of getting caught.

“Psst, Suho, what’s number 10?” I asked in a whisper. My heart beats fast.

Suddenly, you moved forward, getting closer to me. I swear we’re only inches apart, if it wasn’t for your table between us.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Suho asked again. It seems like he didn’t hear what I was saying. At that moment I hesitate to continue it, too nervous to do so. But I gathered my courage and ask him the same question again.

“Ah! It’s B” he answered, in a whisper, doesn’t want to make the teacher aware of both of you.

“Thank you!” I said, in a lower whisper, as I turned my head back forward into its original place.

Ever since then, I keep noticing you. Noticing the smell or the scent of you. Noticing the smallest thing about you. It’s fluttering yet annoying. I hate how I let myself getting into this mess.

I knew I don’t have a chance with you to begin with. I’m literally longing for something that’s impossible, and it’s silently killing me.

“Oh my god- y/n! You’re so in love!” My friends teased.

I can’t control the blush that painted my cheeks. “Shut up oh my god, I hate you all” I muttered loud enough.

“Oh? Oh? Y/n? Won’t you look who sat at the seat right at the opposite of you?” My friend who sat beside me said as she nudged me.

I look up from my food. Only to found the very man I’ve admiring from afar to sat at the seat behind my friends’, facing me.

I quickly looked down and ate my food again. Too startled to respond to the situation. He was with his friends, looking damn good like the usual.

From time to time, I stole some glances at him. Just for a slight second. His chubby cheeks are just so adorable while he’s eating, and I can’t help but feel the urge to pinch them. Seeing him ate makes me feel full myself.

Perhaps, my friends are right... I’m perhaps so in love.

But who am I kidding? Suho is a nice man. Nice to everyone. Despite being friends with such jocks, he knows what he prioritizes. He’s smart. And his look? It’s a bonus point. How can someone not fall for him?

The grieve mistake I made was, stole glance at him at the wrong time. I swear I caught him staring at me. The fact he was staring at me got me off guard. I quickly look at my food and finish it. Brushing the awkward moment away.

It doesn’t help that he and I worked for the same event. We got closer of course! Our relationship gets more playful too. It was the happiest episode in my life, the happiest I’ve ever been in a while.

The littlest moment of ours, I cherished them a lot.

“Suho! I swear to god! If you step on me one more time!” I whisper-shouted at him, trying not to disturb the class. He was sitting beside me. And for some reason, he keeps stepping on my foot, of course in a no harming way, just to let his playful side out.

I see that he didn’t remove his foot from mine. His face calm. He knows I was complaining yet he pretended like he didn’t hear. So I put my other foot on top of his that stepping on me. As soon as I put it down, I realize the mistakes I made.

His face turned at you, as his other leg being put on top of your other one. “I have two legs, y/n” he said before he stuck out his tongue at you.

I mentally slapped myself for it.

“I swear to god, Suho let me go!” I said as I struggle to get my legs out of the ‘legs sandwich’ we just made.

“I swear to god, Suho let me go!” He mocked. I can’t help but giggle slightly at his playfulness. To my surprise, he giggled along with me.

Not known to him, my heart beats 12 times faster. I’m loving this moment very much. Perhaps... more than I’m supposed to.

“Y/n, aren’t you afraid?” My friend asked.

My head turned at her. Confused at the question. “Of what?” I asked.

“Liking him, of course” she said casually.

In that moment, I fell into a deep thought. I knew I’m gonna get hurt, just like always. I know where this is going, where its final destination is.

“It’s not that serious, so... not really” I said to her. The lie was so obvious. Even I can detect it. If my friend know, she didn’t say anything. It makes me cringe how I lie through my own teeth. It feels more like I’m convincing myself than her.

“Okay, I just don’t want you to hurting” she said. “Real question though, how could you like him knowing his history?” She asked again.

I closed my eyes for a moment. I know. I know it all. More of the reason why I shouldn’t like him. But what can I do? I can’t control my own feeling sometimes, and it’s suffocating.

I know. I know for a fact that he...

“You know that he loves Anna for years now right?” She said.

It stabbed me right through the heart. I know, I really do know. That was really uncalled for. It feels like having a lime juice being poured over an open cut.

“Nana, I told you, it’s not that deep, I’ll get over it” I shrugged. Not really in the mood to discuss this any further.

It seems like Nana sensed my discomfort. She stopped asking.

The room was quiet. Every one was focused on their tests that they failed on. It was just me, Suho, and two other friends who managed to pass the test.

We were quietly chatting, not wanting to disturb the silence.

“You know my love stories never end well” a friend named Jenna said. I quickly high fived her slowly. “Same, me too” I relate to her.

“Suho, aren’t you keep getting rejected by Anna?” Jenna asked.

I slowly cower back. Leaning back onto the back of my seat. The question intrigued me. But I’m just... way too afraid of the answer.

I can hear Suho slowly sighed. My eyes were focused on him. Interested yet afraid at what he had to say.

“She’s really hard to get... So I moved on you know” he said. No matter how much he tried to hide it, I can hear the devastation in his voice. I know how that feels. Believe me, I do.

It makes me feel good and bad at the same time. It’s good that it boosts the little confidence in me to believing that I have a chance. But... it’s also bad, I just feel so bad for... liking someone that isn’t mine from the beginning, someone I have no chance with, someone who... supposedly my own friend’s.

Anna is a good friend of mine. She’s really nice. No matter how much I tried to hate her, I just can’t. She’s just way too nice and way too pretty. If I were Suho, she’d totally be the girl I fight for.

I mean,

Who would fall for a broken hearted fragile souled me?

Anyone would choose the perfectly sculpted vase instead of the broken shattered into pieces one.

It was tiring. Physically and mentally. Studying and brainstorming took a lot in me. And so there I was, with my friends, hanging out in the cafeteria. Every once in a while, I took a sip of my chocolate milk, while staring into the distance. Not one of us saying anything, enjoying the silence, knowing every each one of us are spent from all of the studies, knowing very well, we only have one mandatory extra class left. Which by the way, is hell.

Suddenly, something caught Nana’s attention. I saw her eyes widened at the sight. Her strangeness caught my attention as well. “What?” I asked, curiosity peaking in.

“He’s here! Suho’s here!” she said, eyes still set on him.

I don’t need to look back. I heard Baekhyun, Suho’s friend, voice booming throughout the cafeteria. His loudness was the one that caught my attention, enough for me to look back.

Honestly speaking, I’m not even in the mood to have Suho in my line of vision. I’m too tired of everything. Tired of my study, tired of my feels. Tired of seeing him, feel my heart blooming, only to shatter at the reminisce that he will never be… mine, or even look my way.

“Oh? He’s not alone?” Nana added.

My curiosity got the best of me. I look back again. Saw him and Baekhyun were sitting with two girls at the opposite seats of them. Seems like they were in deep conversation.

“Lucky for you, they are within my hearing range” Nana said as she winked at me.

I keep looking at Nana expectantly. Hoping for… something. Anything really. God damnit, I don’t even know what exactly I’m hoping for the outcome.

I saw it. I saw the light disappear from her face, how her expression darkened.

“What?” I asked, trying to keep it casual, like as if I’m expecting nothing.

Nana turned her head at me. Her eyes seems saying something that I know the meaning of, but won’t accept it. “Seems like he’s getting matchmade” she said.

I sighed. I try not to let it show that it’s slowly killing me inside. That I’m broken. I feel so stupid for being like this. I know what I’m going into, yet I’m still hurt. This feel so unfair.

“I don’t care, I’m too busy” I lied. Well, not really. I really am busy. Being in senior year and have to work on the school’s biggest event as a division chief is not an easy job. To make things worse, I have personal feeling that I hate to admit but getting in the way of my priorities.

I feel my throat tightens. The familiar burning sensation around my eyes. I feel like I’m going to broke down. But, I’m just not one to broke down in front of my eyes.

“y/n?, are you okay?” Nana asked.

I gulped. Knowing fully well I can’t lie at the fact I’m on the verge of tears. I know. I know they see the tears Im holding in. I don’t know which one hurts more anymore, the burn in my eyes, or the burn in my heart.

“I-I’m too stressed out” I excused as I choked on my words. I know I should’ve let them know the truth. To hell with, they probably know the truth, and I’m hella grateful they decided not to act on it.

I quickly packed my bag and get up from my seat. I feel like I’d just lose my cool and sanity if I keep staying there. I can feel Nana following me afterward.

Things getting more and more confusing. I swear I’ve never felt so conflicted in my whole life. And… it’s very suffocating. Because honestly talking, I don’t know who got the answer, even if I do, I don’t have the courage to ask for it.

It’s so confusing. I rather have him be clear of his liking towards other girls, than having me hoping and getting confused by the signs he’s giving.

I can’t even put it into words. I want to say so badly that he might took even the littlest amount of interest in me, but who am I to say? Among Anna and the girl who I heard getting matchmade with him, I could be the silliest and ugliest choice out there.

I keep getting my hopes up only to feel like a over-confident bitch afterward. Only to have my insecurities eating me up alive afterwards.

It was at a meeting. A meeting which suddenly having him and his friends interrupted at. No one minds though, since it’s not a formal or official meeting.

I was busy on my laptop, doing the works for school event, making sure of sponsors and tenants, keeping things in check. When suddenly I felt his presence right in front of me. I looked up from my laptop, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposedly in shift?” I asked him.

Suho chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Oh sweet y/n, give me a break won’t you? It’s hot out there” he said with a pout.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Well, just don’t distract me, I’m busy” I said as I continue to do my work.

Suddenly, his hand grab the screen of my laptop and turn it towards him.

I yelped in surprise. “Suho I swear to god!” I said. “Don’t ruin my work!” I warned.

He looked up at me. Suddenly a dangerous grin appeared on his face. My eyes widened. “Don’t stare at me like that” I said to him.

Slowly, he put his fingers on top of the keyboard. I panicked. My hands reaching out to his. At the same time, his finger click randomly on the keyboard.

“Suho!” I yelled as I retracted his hands from my keyboard.

He laughed. He laughed at me who was in panicked. I can’t help but laughed along with him.

I stare back at my job, sighing in relief that he didn’t actually ruined anything. I stared back at him. I saw him raising an eyebrow and smile at me. I, of course smile back. No one can’t resist his angelic smile, can they?

Suddenly Chanyeol, another Suho’s friend, come at me, showing me something on his phone. “y/n? Isn’t this Linda’s ex?” he asked as he showed Linda’s ex boyfriend’s instagram page.

Linda is Chanyeol’s girlfriend, who happened to be my friend since elementary school. To put matter worse, her ex was also my… best friend… well at least until something happened.

“Yeah… He used to be my bestfriend” I said. “Why? Anything peek your interest?” I said with a smirk. I stare a bit at Suho and I saw him getting interested at our conversation.

“Well, I don’t think you should worry about him though, you’re way better than him, he’s an asshole” I added.

“Asshole? Why?” Chanyeol asked.

I sighed. I… don’t want to go back into those memories. I don’t mind telling him, it’s just… the memory is just disgusted me.

“He… sexualized me once, of course after he broke up with Linda” I said, in a much quieter voice.

Suho’s eyes shoot up at me. I looked back at him. I saw emotions in his eyes, I can’t exactly pinpoint what it is, but I could have sworn anger was one of them.

“It’s- it’s probably not much, but anyway he said things, sexual things, about me, and it makes me uncomfortable” I said, trying not to worry anyone.

Suddenly Suho got up from his seat. Shouts of curses flying through his mouth. “What the fuck?” he said, keep repeating it. He went out of the room for a moment to cool down with Chanyeol following behind him.

His reaction was really unexpected. What was that? Why did it anger him so much? So many questions popped up in my mind, but before I can dwell on it, Chanyeol and Suho entered the room again. What Chanyeol said next was just… he said it loud enough for me to hear, whether he’s aware or not.

“Suho, now you know how it feels when people you love is being disturbed!” Chanyeol said.

I gulped. What was that supposed to mean?… “Love”?… I really don’t even want to think about it. I quickly dive myself into my work again, not wanting to overthink it.

But I can’t help it. What Chanyeol said keep being replayed, over and over again, in my mind.

It was 8pm. I was all alone in my room. Still with my laptop on. Multitasking, going back and forth between my duty as a student and as a chief of division. The class group chat keep sending notification. As my brain getting more tired, I can’t help but check it out. Apparently a questionnaire about our end of year student trip was posted and everyone was discussing about it.

I checked the choices of place, and can’t help but wonder about it, not knowing which one to choose.

I don’t even know where I got the courage, but I found myself typing a message to Suho, asking him about his choice.

[y/n], 20:05: Did you see the questionnaire?

[y/n], 20:05: What are you gonna choose?

As soon as I pressed send, I quickly regretting my choice. It was stupid. Now he’ll probably see me as desperate. The ring of my phone made me sighed in relief.

[Suho], 20:06: I don’t know

[Suho], 20:06: Jeju probably?

[Suho], 20:06: Which one do you want y/n?

His replies make me excited beyond belief. I can’t help but let the smile making its way into my face.

[y/n], 20:07: Oh, I don’t know

[y/n], 20:07: I never went to either Busan or Jeju

[Suho], 20:07: Really?!

[Suho], 20:08: You know what y/n?

[Suho], 20:08: Let’s just go to your house!

[y/n], 20:08: Oh? You’re right, it’s so comfortable here in my house

[Suho], 20:09: Never mind that, let’s just escape

[Suho], 20:09: To Bali

[Suho], 20:09: Just the two of us

I swear my heart stopped. I really need him to stop playing with my heart like this. My heart stopped yet beating 12 times its normal race at the same time. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as they warmed up.

[y/n], 20:10: Good idea, Let’s go!

I typed in as I put my phone on the desk and rushing to bed. Can’t handling all of the emotions.

It was the festival of the school event. The peak of the event itself. Every staff were busy. But we found time to rest and enjoy the performances by the singers we invited between the hectic works.

I found myself at the back of the audience area. Leaning to the side of an air conditioner. Feeling spent, but singing along to the song the singers sang.

I stand up more straightly, fixing my posture. And then I realized Suho was the one who leaned on the front side of the air conditioner. It was so hot, and I need some air to cool with, but I also didn’t want to disturb his little rest, knowing his job is more difficult than mine, more exposed to the bright sun outside.

I carefully reach my hand towards the front of the air conditioner, behind his neck, not wanting to disturb him. When suddenly, he turned his head at me and stares. I stared back, not knowing what to say. My hand continue its journey anyway.

He looked back ahead. What caught me off guard was he suddenly made a move to nuzzle the hand that was behind him. In shock, I quickly retreat my hand. “What are you doing?” I asked in shock.

He didn’t say anything but closing his eyes and leaning back into the air conditioner. I sighed and attempt to do the thing I was doing again.

And, again.

He snuggled into it.

My heart. My heart is beating way too fast. This time, I didn’t retreated it back. Perhaps I’m liking this too much, but I didn’t care. If this is the only time he would ever do this, then I’d let him do it as long as he wants.

Finally, after all of the hectic schedule ended, it was time for us in senior years to get ready for the upcoming exams. Even if it means… Going to school during weekends.

It was Saturday. To put matter worse, it was my birthday. I can’t wait to get it over with to be honest, and go into that dinner my family has planned as my birthday coincidentally is two days apart with my parents’ anniversary.

To put matter even worse for my heart, Suho was being put into the same class as me.

I’m just glad Nana was also in the same class at me.

But it seems like the earth and its fate hate me. Nana was sick that day. Leaving the seat next to me empty. And… now here I found myself seating beside Suho.

Stupid heart, stop beating so fast, he might hear it.

It was fun though. He and I keep making jokes here and there. And honestly? It didn’t help me from moving on from him like I planned to.

It was during math. Where I found him shivering. I stare him up and down. “I thought you bring a jacket?” I asked.

“Yeah, Minseok borrowed it though” he said.

“Tough luck” I said as I laughed lightly.

Suddenly, he grabbed a hold of my hand. My head quickly shoot up.

“Holy shit, your hand is so warm y/n” he said as he tightened the hold.

My cheeks. I swear they are madly blushing. My heart feels like it’s about to explode. Please stop for the sake of my well being.

“H-huh? Is it warm?” I asked nervously.

“Yeah! It is! you are so warm!” he said as he suddenly intertwined our hand.

My thoughts are everywhere. I can’t control my emotion anymore. I’m liking, no, I’m loving this beyond everything.

I don’t even know where my confidence come from, but I suddenly found the courage to put my other hand on top of his. “Here, let me warm you up” I said cheekily to him

“You know what? That feels so right” he said as he turned his head at me, and giving me his soft angelic smile.

Dear god, this is just too much for me. I don’t want to fall for him even deeper than I already am.

Months passed.

Season changed.

And so does whatever it is I had with Suho.

I thought we were getting better.

I thought we had something

I thought we were getting closer

But I was wrong

And my earlier insecurities and suspicion keep getting close to right.

Suddenly, slowly but surely, Suho avoided me.

For no reason.

I keep trying to search for an answer. Keep trying to found where it’s all gone wrong. But nothing came up.

Perhaps it’s just me. Perhaps It’s just me and my boring self. Me and my boring desperate self. Perhaps it’s just him getting tired of me.

Each day, I keep seeing him and Anna together. Building a relationship closer than ever.

Each day, I feel like he keeps getting further and further out of my reach.

Each day, I saw them together, laughing and all. I see nothing but pure happiness.

I loathe myself for wanting to be in Anna’s place.

I hate myself for letting myself fall for him so deep, now I don’t know how to get out.

Of course. I should’ve known earlier.

What he had for me, will never be as strong as what he had for Anna.

What he had for me, was a mere interest, nothing much. It was me who overthink it. It was me who think we had more than what we had.

Who am I kidding? I am nothing compare to her.

And it’s killing me every day that I could never be her no matter how much I try.

I thought, that perhaps I have a chance on owning his heart. But who am I kidding? I’m just a broken hearted fragile souled person with too many flaws.

It’s killing me, that I’m willingly gave him my heart, knowing I’ll just get another jab and stab at the end.

It’’s killing me, that no one, perhaps, will love me, as much and as genuinely as I love the,

It’s killing me, that at the end of the day, I will always be at the hurting end.

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inyournightmares97 · 6 years

Text

Another collab between myself and @koreabooeauty! Credits for the gorgeous moodboard go to her, and I wrote the drabble! This was my first time writing for Seventeen, so hope you guys enjoy it!

HighSchool!au + Joshua

You took a deep, shaky breath and tried to calm yourself.

This was probably one of the scariest things you’d ever done in your life. You were standing outside the senior classroom with an envelope clutched to your chest. It had taken months of hesitating, and talking yourself out it and cold feet, but now you were finally here to take a huge risk and do what you had wanted to do for the past one year.

Give Joshua Hong a love letter.

There were a lot of girls who had a crush on the sweet, soft-spoken Student Council President. Maybe Joshua wasn’t as popular as some of the athletes or the rougher bad boys, but there wasn’t a single girl who didn’t feel at least a little flustered when he flashed them his sweet, innocent smile and looked at them with his caring eyes. You were no exception. You had fallen hard for the gentle senior from your very first day in Student Council, when he held the door open for you to enter the room and smiled at you sweetly. Your face had flushed pink and you had avoided eye contact, hurrying to your seat.

Somehow, you always failed miserably at responding to Joshua’s kindness. it should have been perfectly natural to give him a smile and thank him for holding open the door or offering to carry something heavy, or passing you a glass of water during Student Council meetings. But you always froze up when Joshua did something sweet for you, and you ended up hurrying away from him or not responding at all. Had you been in his position, you would have thought yourself extremely rude.

But after months of being unable to say a word around him, and clamming up around the gorgeous man, you decided that something had to be done about it. Joshua was the sweetest person in the world. He was always extremely helpful with whatever work you’d been assigned and constantly asked you if you were doing okay and needed anything. He didn’t deserve to be treated so rudely just because you were socially inept. So after a lot of hesitation, you decided you were just going to confess and let Joshua know why you couldn’t manage a word in his presence.

You weren’t stupid; you knew that if you tried to confess your feelings face-to-face, you would probably clam up and chicken out, not to mention humiliate yourself. So you decided that the safest way was to just write Joshua a letter and force yourself to leave it somewhere he would find it. You’d spent all night drafting the letter, trying to make it heartfelt without being too cringe-worthy. Joshua was a perfect gentleman and you knew that even if he rejected you, he would appreciate the amount of effort you’d put in and be very sweet about it.

So here you were.

Your first thought had been to put it in his locker, but you couldn’t find a time of day when the hallway was empty enough. If anybody saw you putting the baby pink envelope into Joshua Hong’s locker, you were positive that you would die of embarrassment. But how else were you supposed to get it to him? Joshua was a senior, and you had no mutual friends that you could ask for help. It occurred to you to try and slip it to him during a Student Council meeting, but the thought of trying to slip it to him while he was sitting right there was unbelievable.

After much contemplation, you decided that your best option was to sneak into the senior classroom during lunch and slip it into his backpack. There would be nobody there in lunch break. It would be infinitely much easier than trying to slip it into his locker without anybody noticing. You peeked into the classroom and made sure that nobody was inside. Your trained eye could easily spot Joshua’s navy blue backpack on a seat near the window, so you took a deep breath, hurrying into the classroom.

You were terrified that somebody would walk in, so you unzipped his backpack as fast as you could and stuffed the letter into the top zip. Just as you were zipping it back up, a horrible thought struck you. What if this isn’t really his backpack? It was a rather unremarkable, plain-looking bag and it was possible that somebody else carried a similar one. The thought of giving the love letter to the wrong person horrified you and you unzipped the backpack again, trying to find something that would confirm that it belonged to Joshua.

The first thing your hand touched was a wallet, and you pulled it out eagerly, hoping to check the ID. Your eyes had just fixated on Joshua’s diving license (how could somebody look so good even in a driving license photo?) when you heard a voice yell behind you.

“Hey! Aren’t you a junior? What are you doing in here?”

You froze in horror, and turned to face a pair of large, scary-looking seniors that were frowning at you. Their eyes narrowed at the wallet in your hands and you felt your world spin as one of them pointed at you accusingly.

“Isn’t that Joshua’s bag? What are you doing with his wallet? Man, I think she was trying to steal something!” the guy exclaimed, while you stared at him with wide eyes. You opened your mouth to explain yourself but as usual, your voice failed you. You could only stare in horror as the older boys spoke to each other.

“Seungcheol, you make sure she doesn’t go anywhere. I’m going to go get Joshua so he can check what she stole. Joshua! Yah, Joshua Hong!”

Your heart sank into your stomach as you watched one of them run out, calling Joshua’s name. You had never felt so humiliated in your life and you wanted to die. The senior boy who had stayed behind glared at you, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes at the look of disgust on his face. You opened your mouth again to try and explain yourself, but before you could say anything, the classroom door opened again.

“-stole-wallet-what?” Joshua was saying, confused as he entered the classroom, dragged along by the other boy. Oh no. He was here. You felt small under Joshua’s gaze as he turned and blinked at you with wide eyes. He seemed shocked to see you there. “It’s you? Hey, what are you doing here?”

Your composure cracked and the tears spilled out of your eyes, causing your throat to choke up. How had things gone so wrong? Your anxiety bubbled up and exploded, so you simply thrust the wallet at Joshua, blubbered out something incomprehensible and then ran out of the classroom before any of the three boys could stop you.

You were never going to do anything like that again.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

You weren’t called to the Principal’s office or anything like that, so you assumed that Joshua figured out that you hadn’t meant to steal. He probably found the letter that you had stuffed into your bag and realized that you weren’t a thief; you were just a pathetic little girl with a crush that she didn’t have the courage to confess to his face.

Ugh, so humiliating.

Even thinking about the experience made you shudder, so you resolved to stay as far away from Joshua as possible. The only time you would have to face him was at Student Council meetings and even then, you could always turn up a little late so that there were already plenty of other people in the room. You spent the next two days ducking whenever you caught a glimpse of Joshua and avoiding him successfully. One of your friends even came and told you that Joshua Hong was looking for you, but you were too embarrassed to tell her what had happened and you definitely didn’t want to see Joshua, so you ignored it.

You were just beginning to hope that the whole thing might be over, when you found a letter in your backpack after lunch one day. Fingers trembling it, you opened it to find a note in Joshua’s neat handwriting.

–

It’s not very fair of you to write me such a sweet letter and not give me a chance to respond. Did you change your mind? I understand if that’s what happened, you can ignore this. But if you haven’t….

Then give me a chance to confess too?

Meet me after school today near the front gate, if you’re not too busy.

Yours,

Joshua

–

Your heart fluttered as you clutched the letter to your chest and smiled giddily. Maybe things hadn’t gone too terribly wrong after all.

#seventeen #joshua #seventeen scenario #seventeen moodboard #seventeen drabble #joshua drabble #joshua hong #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #svt #svt joshua #joshua fluff #highschool!au #seventeen reactions

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a-confused-turtle · 6 years

Text

The Will to Live

Fandom: Star Wars

Request by @blindperfectioniswasted : “ Can you do a fanfic of Poe and The Reader about the reader leaving for a mission and crashing, making everyone think she’s dead. She comes back two months less than a year only to find Poe basically dying from a broken heart. He’s deathly unhealthy and can’t even speak without wincing. So, the reader cares for him and nurses him. In the end he proposes to her! THANK YOU AND LOVE YA”

Pairing Characters: PoeDameronxReader,

Words: 2,000+

Warning: Curse words, mentions of death and disappearance

Author’s Note: Agh, the ending is something I’ve been playing with for a while... I altered the timeline just a bit (just felt like it should have been less time away). I also made the reader a solo and vaguely explained how she tried to get her brother back - it just felt right. Okay, I’m going to go hide now, I hope you like it but I’m not too confident about this one....

The moment you set foot on that planet you would have some explaining to do. Leaving… you’d loathed it, especially the way you left Poe. You hadn’t even been able to summon the courage to say goodbye and tell him, besides you’d known he never would have let you go through with your plan if you’d told him. And that was the trouble, you had to go through with it. If you hadn’t at least given it a shot, everyone would have died - Poe, your mother, everyone you had left would have been destroyed by the First Order.

So, you made everyone think you were dead - so they wouldn’t go looking for you - and found your brother, simple enough plan. Not many technicalities to it, except those awful things called feelings. Fuck those. Those were why you found yourself flying a junker ship to the base you hadn’t set foot in for eight months.

You could tell the communications officer nearly shit himself when you told him your business and your name. You merely cringed. Solo didn’t have the same ring to it as it used to, not since your dad, not since you almost died at the hands of your brother.

As you finally touched down, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Despite your best efforts, tremors continued assaulting your hands, especially as you neared the door. The door you knew the people you both loved most in the world and had hurt in the worst possible way. Finally you bit down the anxiety and strode down the ship’s ramp, hands up in case they still didn’t believe you were who you said.

Before you had a chance to process your surroundings fully, your mother rushed to hug you without a word. A number of weapons lowered as she wrapped you in her death grip. “I’m just glad you’re alive… How?” She murmured so lowly no one else could hear and, surprisingly, without a trace of anger.

“I owe you an explanation, but I owe Poe one too… Where is he?” Already misty eyed from simply hugging your mother, you dreaded her answer. You’d just assumed he’d lived through the last eight months of fighting, what if he…. hadn’t?

“You were the one that did the attack on their armada aren’t you?” Her grip kept you tight against her chest, even though you had to awkwardly lean down given the height difference.

“Mom…”

She pressed on, “Rey said your ship was destroyed, she thought you died. After what happened to your father… You were captured, weren’t you? On purpose?”

You tried to pull away, but she kept you in place a moment more.

“You did what you had to do. You tried to turn him, and he wouldn’t. You thought it’d be safer to disappear instead of leading him back to us?”

As you straightened up again, you swallowed thickly. “Something like that. I knew we would see him at the base, even before we left. I felt it and I thought I could save him, but I couldn’t drag all of you into that. You couldn’t come after me…”

Your mother nodded, eyes fixed on your entire face like she was seeing a ghost, and in many ways she surely was.

“Wh-Where is he?” You finally forced out, voice weak and the epitome of reluctance mixing with urgency.

When your mother once again failed to answer immediately, your stomach tightened and that horrible fear spread through your veins.

“Please tell me he-”

“He’s alive, but he’s not doing well. The doctors say he’s dying.”

Again you found yourself hesitating in front of a door, just staring at the smooth, though somehow still disconcerting surface. He wouldn’t want to see you… You’d done this to him, you’d abandoned him in a way that if he’d done the same to you, your whole life would have imploded. And his had…

Your mother’s words reverberated in your mind: He’s essentially dying of a broken heart… There’s nothing wrong with him, but his will…

He’d lost his will to live. Your Poe. Your strong, brave, courageous Poe…

Fighting off those stupid feelings of fear and doubt, your forced yourself through the door. You needed to see him whether it was for better or worse, and you needed to stop being a little shit, to reign in those regrets and feelings. You could never change the past.

You barely recognized the form on the white hospital bed sheets. He had no ounce of the light you remembered, the strength, or even those playful little ticks you remembered. No, that brightness had diminished and he didn’t move at all as the door closed, eyes open and fixed on the ceiling.

“Poe?” You whispered, tentatively. Had you actually gone to the wrong room? This couldn’t be him, please let it not be him.

Finally those beautiful chocolate eyes, once full and wholesome - now shattered and empty - lazily drifted over to your position. For a long moment they simply stared, blank as if out of sheer boredom, until something finally awoke in the damaged shell of your Poe. “Y/N?” He murmured, wincing almost as he spoke, in confusion and disbelief. “That’s not you. It can’t be…”

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you rushed to his side, kneeling and taking his hand in yours. “It’s me,” you forced out, the guilt you felt in your bones palpable in your voice, “It-It’s me.”

His brow furrowed skeptically and his eyes studied you appraisingly, searching for any sign it was some awful trick, that you weren’t his Y/N.

“I’m alive and I’ll explain everything, but-”

With a surprising amount of speed, Poe leaned forward and stole a chaste kiss. Of course, you didn’t object, you even leaned in, deepening the kiss and enjoying what you’d longed so dearly for.

“I don’t care,” he asserted in that utterly certain and unwavering way.

“Poe, I really-”

“You’re here. I couldn’t ask for anything more… Without you, I…”

You brought your hand to his cheek tenderly. “You can’t die on me. I’ll never die on you, well I won’t ever again…” An hollow promise of a sweet nothing; since the two of you lived such perilous lives neither of you could guarantee such a thing, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try. For him.

Poe smiled warmly, placing his hand over yours and bringing it to his lips. “Die? You’re alive! If you want, I’ll go win the war right now, with my bare hands,” he replied in between pecks on your hand and eventually on your lips.

A wince and a groan from Poe finally interrupted that happy reunion. Immediately at the sound of his pain, you pulled yourself from him, ready to solve the problem, fix it whatever it was. And Poe, well he frowned at the loss of your touch though his strength from the excitement waned.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Let me get you one of the nurses-”

“Y/N.”

“You need to get better, I’ll just-”

“I,” he insisted, “am better with you here.”

You shook your head at him, biting your lip nervously. “Well, you’re about to get a whole lot better then.”

Just shy of a month after you’d returned, Poe was finally getting fully back to his old self. Mending those emotional and mental wounds had actually been easier than the physical ones. Who would have thought? Just your presence had pushed the two of you back to a honeymoon phase almost.

Through it all, you’d stayed at his bedside, only really leaving when he insisted you get some rest or take a shower - that one always earned him a glare. Even so, you seldom devoted your time to anything besides Poe getting better, either because of the love or the guilt…

True to his word, he hadn’t asked about what you did or why and you’d try to explain too. Everytime, he changed the topic of conversation easily, telling you with his eyes that it didn’t matter to him. While that seemed sweet and clearly indicated he forgave you, it still knifed your insides and your heart… He hadn’t deserved what happened, he was too damn good for you.

Finally, one day you couldn’t take a second more of it. You’d gone to take a shower and had run into your mother on the way to your room. She took your hand, offering a small smile and comforting words about Poe’s health. But, then she asked how you were feeling and you let it all out.

“Tell him for your own sake, sweetheart. He needs to hear it too whether he thinks so or not,” she said wisely.

“I’ve tried, mom, but he just…”

Your mother stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to look at you. Her eyes reflected a different sort of light, one you hadn’t seen for many years, probably since your father left. “He’s just as stubborn as you. You’re perfect for each other.”

So, as you strode back to Poe’s room every step held purpose and determination. You didn’t even hesitate in front of the door. “Poe?”

The man appeared in the doorway to his bathroom a moment later, walking back to the bed. “Hey there, princess,” he chimed back happily, “I was just about to take a shower myself, care to join me?”

Glossing over the awful nickname, you had half a mind to take him up on that offer, because your heart leapt, beating stronger, at the sight of his normal antics. However, you quickly refocused and answered, “I’d love to, that is if you still want me to after I’ve explained.”

He frowned in that concerned fashion.

“I know you don’t want to know, but I have to tell you,” you pressed and moved to sit on the side of his bed.

Poe watched your eyes and movements carefully before sitting down next to you, taking your hand in his. “If that’s what it takes to get you to stop blaming yourself.”

“Of course I blame myself,” your shot back incredulously, those feelings getting the best of you, “I made you believe I was dead so I could try and bring my brother back! It didn’t even work, he’s gone! But I left you, and you almost died!”

Your outburst surprised him, but he quickly adapted to the new information. “You did what you had to do. I should have realized what you were planning and if I could do it all over again, I would’ve-”

“No, I should’ve told you. I just couldn’t bear the thought of him killing you because of me,” you full on sobbed, hunching over into your hands, while Poe placed his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “He would’ve if you’d came after me!”

“If I could do it all over again, I would’ve let you go. That might’ve killed me, but you should know by now I’d do anything for you…”

Those words only made you cry harder, letting out all those pent up emotions you’d been willing away. You clung to Poe until the tears began to subside, leaving you sniffing pathetically. “Can’t imagine why,” you murmured.

Poe kissed the top of your head, but quickly resolved to more mischievous means of cheering you up. His fingers changed course before you knew it, straying from their protective hold to tickling. “Stop that,” he exclaimed, “You’re gorgeous and wonderful and every other brilliant adjective out there!”

You squirmed in his arms, trying anything to weasel your way out of the tickling trap. “I concede! Stop! Please!” You laugh-shouted.

“Only because you said, please.”

“You’re the worst.”

He snorted in response, pecking the top of your head once again.

“I really don’t deserve you…”

“That’s nonsense. You’re the best person I know, and I don’t want anyone else. I’ll never want anyone else,” Poe replied firmly, voice barely above a whisper as if for you and only you - something you knew you’d hold onto forever.

You forced yourself up, sitting and meeting those chocolate eyes. “I love you, Poe.”

“Now, how about that shower?” Poe quipped cheekily.

Tags: @enniaram

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